All of My Life

All Of My Life
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/20759912.
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Kim Seokjin | Jin/Kim Taehyung | V, Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Kim
Seokjin | Jin/Original Male Character(s), Kim Taehyung | V/Other(s)
Character: Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Taehyung | V, Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook,
Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Namjoon | RM, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Park
Hyungsik, Original Characters, Bangtan Boys | BTS Ensemble's Family
Additional Tags: Coming of Age, Fluff, Angst, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, Pre-Relationship,
Domestic Fluff, Family Dynamics, Homophobia, Internalized
Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Domestic Violence,
Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Outing, Societal
Pressure/Perception, Smut, Pining, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Panic
Attacks, Self-Hatred, Switch Kim Seokjin | Jin, Infidelity, Soul-Searching,
OT7 Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Much of this is
written from personal experience, Hooking up under the influence,
Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Bangtan are the same age,
Anxiety, Coming Out, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, Found
Family, Platonic Soulmates, No translations allowed, Switch Kim
Taehyung | V, A story about ordinary life
Language: English
Collections: taejin fics (nsfw/smut), It's gonna be you
Stats: Published: 2019-09-24 Completed: 2021-12-20 Chapters: 60/60 Words:
290470
All Of My Life
by taejindreams
Summary
In which Seokjin and Taehyung question if they're friends, lovers, or nothing (in no
particular order).
[NO TRANSLATIONS AND/OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ALLOWED - AO3 does

not allow reproductions of whole or substantially-whole copyrighted works without the
consent of the copyright owner.]
Notes
NO TRANSLATIONS AND/OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ALLOWED - AO3 does

not allow reproductions of whole or substantially-whole copyrighted works without
the consent of the copyright owner.
Due to the deeply personal nature of this story I am NOT allowing any translations. Thank
you for understanding and respecting my wishes.
---
PLEASE READ: INCLUDES T/W AND DISCLAIMERS
Hello everyone. I am back with a fic and this one is a doozy. Began writing on August 10,
2018 and finished end of August 2019. Starting from September 2019 I've begun the
process of uploading chapters one by one, with the time in between spent editing/rewriting
as needed.
Much of my own struggle with mental health, self identity, relationships, and sexuality has
been woven into the storyline. Hence the plot will be very realistic/relatable, and at times
extremely heavy. The "angst" tag is not to be taken lightly, proceed with caution.
Please also pay attention to the following trigger warnings:
-Mental health (depression/anxiety/panic attacks/self loathing)

-Homophobia
-Domestic violence
-Toxic family dynamics
These topics along with others mentioned in the tags will surface throughout the course of
the story. If any of these matters are triggering for you, please DO NOT read and x out of
this.
Some more important disclaimers to keep in mind:
-Bangtan are the same age in this AU. (They meet their first year of high school.)
-This story aims to explore love in all forms, whether it be familial, platonic, or romantic.
More often that not Taejin will spend time apart and grow in their individual journeys.
Heavy, heavy emphasis on friendships and found family.
-I've done extensive research regarding Korean culture + any mentioned destinations to
make this as realistic as possible. I was lucky enough to visit 99% of the locations in this
story and experience them firsthand, as well as receive valuable cultural insight from my
Korean friends. With that said, I've taken some slight creative liberties for the sake of this
fictional storyline: in this universe, gay marriage is legal in Korea, however the stigma
attached to it remains prevalent. Korea's mandatory military enlistment also does not exist
in this alternate reality.
-SLOW. BURN. I think the word count says it all haha.
My ultimate goal in sharing "All Of My Life" is to uplift and encourage. Again, this fic
delves into heavy themes and in certain moments may feel hopeless, but more than
anything I want those of you that have gone through similar experiences to read this and
know that you're not alone. <3
See the end of the work for more notes

Part 1 | Year 1: Like a rose when in bloom
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
❀ I. LIKE A ROSE WHEN IN BLOOM
February: Year 1
His favorite part of the day wasn’t the beginning nor the end, not even lunchtime or the bus ride
home. It was 8:00PM, the sacred hour of evening slotted for study session break. At the sound of
the bell, most of his first year classmates would rise from their desks, stretch their tired limbs and
boil a cup of ramen, wolfing it down before the 8:30PM bell would ring, signaling for them to
return to their studies.
In this half hour window, Kim Seokjin had a habit of wandering out of his third floor classroom,
down the stairwell and through the back doors onto the soccer field. It was only the first week of
school when he developed such a routine, the biting cold of February certainly an obstacle, but not
enough to deter him. He simply gritted his teeth and wrapped the puffy coat around his shoulders a
little tighter. It was difficult to explain, but there was something cathartic about walking onto the
empty turf, laying down in the center of it, and fixing his eyes upon the starless skies of Seoul.
If he was lucky, he’d catch a glimpse of a yellow moon every once in a while.
From his vantage point he could spy on the clusters of students lingering by the school building,
hovering like moths underneath the lamplights. He’d watch the small figures shifting about,
casting shadows on the wall, movements eventually blurring together, the boy slowly losing track
of time.
It was 8:05PM, Monday evening of their second week of school when Seokjin noticed another
figure approaching.
The person was small in stature, bounding across the lawn with a spring in his step, his coat flying
behind him like a cape as he neared the field where Seokjin lay. His eyes followed the boy until he
came to a halt at the opposite end of the field, lowering himself down on the grass to lie down as
well.
Seokjin recognized him instantaneously, just from the unique gait in his step. Kim Taehyung, the
token happy kid from his class. The one that sat all the way across the room by the windows,
windows that were usually slightly open to the school courtyard. The two had never spoken before.
But Seokjin’s eyes often drifted to the other side of the room during lessons, and he’d often catch
Taehyung’s head turned towards the trees swaying just beyond the glass, fascinated by the little
birds that flitted from one branch to another. It was either that, or Seokjin would sometimes look up
and find Taehyung gazing in his direction, eyes fixed directly on him.
Which led Seokjin of course to wonder what the hell Taehyung could be staring at. He’d swivel
around in his seat to glance behind himself, scanning his unremarkable backdrop of peeling paint
and weathered plaster. What’s so great about a blank wall?
What he loved the most about that empty field was the silence of it. The guaranteed peace and
quiet, a sanctuary that the moon and clouds created seemingly just for him. But that particular
night, mere seconds after Kim Taehyung burst into his safe space, there came from Taehyung’s
phone the faint blaring of music, cutting through the stillness and prompting a groan from a
disgruntled Seokjin. Some sort of bubbly, vapid mainstream pop song.
He wanted to maintain a guise of annoyance. But as the sickly sweet tune faded away only to be
replaced immediately by another, Seokjin couldn’t help but break into a chuckle.
Cute.
And so they lay like that for a while, children of the moon, until the 8:30 bell beckoned them back
to reality.
---
It wasn’t easy to make friends.

Seokjin transferred from an entirely different school district, his family having just moved across
town after his middle school graduation. To him, everyone in his class of fifty-strong was a
stranger, whereas most of them had grown up together, some going as far back as kindergarten. His
parents had advocated to enroll him in a private academy, but the boy somehow managed to
convince them that public school was the best option.
It doesn’t really matter where I go to school, anyway.
The first friend he made was Kim Namjoon; the class genius who sat directly in front of Seokjin,
who also happened to be one of the most forgetful individuals he’d ever encountered. Nearly every
day the boy would swivel around in his seat with a flustered look, mumbling under his breath,
“Hey, you got a spare pencil?”
For the first week or so Seokjin would quietly dig out one of his “spares” and hand it to Namjoon,
earning an embarrassed “thank you,” in return. But by the middle of the second week, his supply
was running short, as was his patience.
“I’m out of pencils too. You took ‘em all. Where’d they go?”
To which Namjoon simply laughed and turned to ask the classmate on his left instead.
They started eating lunch together, scarfing down their meals in the cafeteria within the first
twenty minutes, then spending the last forty wandering the school grounds. The two truly didn’t
have much in common. Namjoon cared deeply about philosophy, art, music, subjects far beyond
their tender age of fifteen. Seokjin’s passions in life were quite simple; food, gaming, and anime.
But nevertheless he would listen with mild interest as they strolled along the running track,
Namjoon going on and on about Kant and Nietzsche and a whole slew of other dead men.
“Interesting,” Seokjin would repeat over and over again, until the word no longer sounded like
one.
The duo often ended their post-lunch walks at the bleachers overlooking the basketball court,
resting their bums on the cold metal and observing the students running back and forth across the
pavement, shoes squeaking against the concrete. It was always the same group of guys, an
assortment of rambunctious first years; the second and third years were too busy studying. Five of
the players Seokjin recognized from their class. Taehyung being one of them, along with Park
Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Min Yoongi, and Jeon Jungkook.
Namjoon was surprised, that Seokjin could remember all their names after such a short amount of
time. "They're noisy as hell," Seokjin explained. "Hard not to notice them."
It was on a fateful Thursday afternoon, while Namjoon and Seokjin loitered at their usual lookout,
that Seokjin accidentally made eye contact with the captain of the team. There seemed to be a dire
situation at hand, Min Yoongi’s gaze especially piercing that day as he squinted at the quiet pair
seated courtside.
“We’re missing two players!” He could hear Yoongi cry out. “We need tall people. All y’all are so
damn short.”
“Says the shortest person here,” Park Jimin shot back with a scowl.
“Don’t get me started-”
“OY!” Hoseok called out to the stands, his voice overpowering the argument unfolding beside him.
Seokjin gulped, as Hoseok was waving wildly at none other than himself and Kim Namjoon.
“YOU TWO!” The boy cried, beckoning for them to join. “COME PLAY! WE NEED TWO
MORE!”
“Fuck. I do NOT know how to play for the life of me,” Namjoon whispered, panicked.
“Should we just make a run for it, or…”
“GET DOWN HERE!” Jimin bellowed, his voice shockingly loud for someone so small.
“Too late.”
It was a silly thing to be nervous about, a film of sweat forming upon his palms as he rose from his
seat and followed Namjoon’s lead off of the bleachers. The moment the two stepped down from
their perch and onto the perimeter of the court, the other five boys descended upon them like
vultures.
“We all know each other, right?” Hoseok asked.
“Of course, same class-”
“You don’t need to be any good,” Jimin assured, sporting a bright smile across his face. “We’re all
shit anyway.”
“Speak for yourself, Jimin,” Yoongi teased, stretching his arms with the air of a pro. “And you
two, take off your outerwear. It’s going to get hot.”
It was as they removed their blazers that Jungkook approached Namjoon from behind, tapping him
lightly to grab his attention.
“Hey Namjoon, you know if you ever need pencils, I’m two seats behind you?”
Seokjin actually burst out laughing.
Their team let out a collective chorus of “Oo”s and “Ah”s the moment he wriggled out of his
jacket, revealing a set of enviably wide shoulders. “He can play defense!” Yoongi declared
gleefully, rendering awkward laughter from Seokjin as he rolled up the sleeves of his button down.
Defense? What does that even mean? He thought to himself as his eyes scanned the court, landing
on an uncharacteristically quiet Kim Taehyung standing off to the side. Defend himself from
imminent humiliation, maybe. He had no fucking clue what he was doing.
And sure enough, the seven of them lost badly: by a solid fifteen points. A combined effort of
failure, really. And yet they walked away from the game in oddly jolly spirits, arms slung over
each other's shoulders, stumbling in their steps as they headed back towards the school’s entrance.
“We should do this more often.”
Chapter End Notes

Happy birthday Joanie! :D
Part 1 | Year 1
Chapter Notes
As a disclaimer for those of you not familiar with Korean high schools: their
schooldays are extremely long and do not end until LATE (i.e. 10PM). Either they stay
on campus and study in their classrooms or they run off to separate cram schools
called "Hagwon."
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“So have you figured out which university you want to go to yet?”
He lost count, the number of times his parents asked him this very question. If ever the dinner table
was met with silence they would divert the conversation to Seokjin’s future. “When do you want to
start going to Hagwon?” “What do you think about going overseas for university?”
His answers sounded increasingly like a broken record. “Oh, maybe.” “I’ll consider it.” “I’m not
sure yet, mom.”
Can I play Nintendo for the rest of my life? He thought to himself as he lay under the covers at
4:00AM, the snowy glow of the console reflected in his tired eyes.
School quickly became intense. Being one of the most esteemed public academies in the district,
his classmates dove into studying with terrifying voracity, every student either running to Hagwon
after class or staying on premises well into the evening, heading home at 10:00PM the earliest.
Seokjin often found himself scanning the hushed room, at the cowered necks and the occasional
flipping of pages. It was only the beginning, he reminded himself; he had nearly three more years
of this.
He developed a simple daily routine, one that could be performed rather effortlessly on automatic
pilot: wake up at 5:00AM, squeeze in a bit of light reading, whip up the usual breakfast of spam
and eggs, change into his uniform, run a comb through his hair if he was feeling peppy, then plug
in his headphones and trudge towards the station, wait for the bus that would arrive in a puff of
fumes to whisk him away to his doom.
On certain days he’d arrive just before the teacher, on others a good fifteen, twenty minutes ahead.
Depended on traffic. The first week of school he'd managed to spend this precious time in solitude,
listening to some calming music or playing a couple games on his phone before the day would
officially begin. But ever since he and Jeon Jungkook underwent a proper introduction, the boy
took it upon himself to pester him incessantly, often poking his back with a sharpened pencil and
cackling at Seokjin's reactions.
“Yaish!” Seokjin finally snapped one day, chucking an eraser violently at Jungkook’s head.
Jungkook ducked just in time and the object ended up clocking the classmate behind him instead.
Seokjin ultimately looked like the bad guy. There was no way he could win against this kid.
And so with silence now being a rarity, he would swivel around in his seat to chit chat with the
brat, feigning annoyance but secretly relishing in the amount of gossip Jungkook seemed to
possess. Out of all the members in their established basketball posse, Jungkook seemed to know
the most about everyone and everything.
“You see Hoseokie in the back?” Jungkook nodded in said individual’s direction, who at the
moment was busy joking around with his neighbors. “None of those guys sitting next to him went
to our old school. I don’t know how he can make friends that quickly.”
“Taehyung and Jimin are like, best friends,” Jungkook continued, motioning towards the pair all
the way across the room, their silhouettes almost angelic in the early morning light. “Inseparable
since elementary school.”
“Who are you closest to?” Seokjin asked. “Out of everyone here.”
“Probably Yoongi,” Jungkook confessed, scrunching his nose. “We’re very similar.”
“In a weird way, I can see that.”
“It’s funny that Yoongi and Taehyung are sitting next to each other though,” the boy whispered, a
sly smile on his face. “They used to despise each other in middle school.”
“Really?” Seokjin implored, eyes widening. “Why’s that?”
“They got in this huge argument their first year. It was a whole scene. The principal had to
intervene. I’m just crying laughing thinking about the fact they have to sit next to each other for the
rest of the year.”
“What did they fight about?”
“Food. Fucking food.”
“Makes perfect sense to me.”
---
As much as Seokjin detested the prospect of studying, he somehow managed to become a model
student within his class, one that his teachers seemed to be absolutely smitten with. “It’s cause
you’re handsome,” Jungkook reminded Seokjin constantly.
“Great.”
“Like really handsome.”
“Okay.”
“Like not even just in our class. The whole school. The most handsome one.”
“I get it, please stop.”
“It’s a shame we go to an all boys’ school.”
He quickly became an object of admiration, his stature prince-like and proper, his demeanor calm
and reserved. Answering every question directed his way correctly, scoring exceptionally high on
all of his exams, consistently ranking within the top ten of their class. Treating all of his fellow
classmates and teachers with the utmost respect, bowing a full ninety degrees when the occasion
called for it. He'd gotten it down to a science, near perfection.
Every day it was four hours of class in the morning, followed by a one hour lunch that was really
just an excuse for basketball, then another four hours of lessons until the last bell of the day would
ring. And yet this didn’t signify their dismissal; if anything, just a small break before another four
hour study session would commence. Seokjin had a habit of hiding in the bathroom during that tiny
window to play games on his Nintendo.
And before he knew it it was 8:00PM again, his favorite time of the day. On some nights he’d stay
in the room to partake in Jungkook’s daily ramen feasting, which typically also involved brawls
between Jungkook and Hoseok over the division of snacks. But more often than not, he’d slip out
of the building and retreat onto the soccer field to enjoy some peace and quiet.
It was a curious thing, the way Taehyung sometimes trailed after him silently, never coming close
enough to merit conversation yet always lingering in his periphery. It perplexed Seokjin, how the
most gregarious, bubbly boy in their grade would fade away to a shell of a human in his presence.
He saw the way Taehyung would giggle uproariously with Jimin, how he would spiral into petty
arguments with Yoongi, how he’d devolve into silly voices and odd personas with Jungkook, how
he’d muster all of his sickening aegyo for Hoseok, how he would shower Namjoon with endless
praise and affection. But with Seokjin, he could count the number of sentences the two had
exchanged on one hand. And he couldn’t help but wonder if and/or why the boy seemed to despise
him so.
Which made Seokjin want, all the more, for Kim Taehyung to like him.
It started with a rubber band. A silly thing that Taehyung had been toying with all morning,
twirling the object between his fingers, wrapping it around his wrist, absentmindedly stretching it
this way and that as the first class of the day droned on in the most painful manner. “Cut it out,”
Jimin whispered with a smirk on his face. But Taehyung was already pulling the band back, using
his thumb as an anchor and aiming it square at the teacher currently lecturing in the front.
“Who did that.”
Seokjin glanced up from his notes to find the teacher twisted around from the board, hands on her
hips, steam practically rising from her head. And a bewildered, empty-handed Taehyung on the
other side of the room, face a flaming, fiery red.
The rest of the class was reduced to silence, save for the sound of the ticking clock on the wall.
“I don’t want to have to ask again.”
His eyes were flitting back and forth now, between the evidently guilty perpetrator and the fuming
victim, who much like the ticking clock on the wall appeared as if she were a time bomb. Like she
could explode at any moment and no one in her path was safe.
And so Seokjin’s next move seemed like a very logical thing to do.
“It was me.”
Except the moment Seokjin stood to his feet, on the left side of the classroom came the squeak of a
chair being pushed back against the tile and a low voice confessing the exact same thing:
“It was me.”
The teacher’s eyes darted back and forth between the two boys now standing at attention on
opposite ends of the room, an incredibly flustered Taehyung and a nervous Seokjin.
“BOTH of you?” She questioned, her skepticism largely aimed at model student Seokjin. “Stop
playing around. Whoever actually-”
“It was me, teacher,” Jimin piped up, shooting up onto his feet without warning.
And Jungkook, seeing Jimin volunteering himself as bait, decided he wanted in on the fun. “No,
me.”
“Teacher, I-” Namjoon towered over his desk, pushing his thick frames further up his nose.
“Idiot,” Hoseok mumbled under his breath, kicking his chair behind him.
And Yoongi, Yoongi didn’t utter a word as he too rose quietly from his seat. Seokjin inwardly
chuckled at the sight of it; the kid just didn’t want to be left out.
The teacher was now seething.
“I’m going to ask one more time, nicely. Who did it.”
“I did,” the seven of them proclaimed in unison.
---
In his fifteen years of existence, Kim Seokjin had never been in detention. The concept was always
a myth to him; he’d known particularly rebellious classmates who seemed to float in and out of it,
remaining unaffected by the whole experience and never really learning their lesson. So when he
heard that the principal was putting all seven of them to manual labor that afternoon, he couldn’t
help but let out an audible groan. “You’ll be doing a deep clean of the courtyard,” the principal
informed them as they stood in his office in a straight line, heads bowed, eyes glued to their feet.
“Make it snappy. Have it done by 8:00PM. And be back in time for study session.”
The moment classes officially wrapped for the day, they were escorted to the courtyard by the
principal and the school janitor, brooms, buckets, and trash bags in tow for the task. “Get every
crevice, every corner. This place has to be spotless when you’re done with it. Understood?”
“Sir,” Jungkook asked with piqued curiosity. “When was the last time anyone cleaned this place?”
To which the principal laughed, shaking his head at the innocence of the question. “A long time.
It’s been a long time since we’ve had problem students.”
Once the seven of them were left alone, an indignant Jimin whipped around with broom in
possession, smacking Taehyung with a loud thump on the butt. “YAH. I TOLD YOU TO CUT IT
OUT.”
“SHUSH.” Namjoon hissed, picking up a bucket with a gloved hand. “There's classrooms all
around, everyone can hear us.”
“Ours is on the third floor,” Jungkook shot back. “I doubt they’ll hear anything. And if they can,
who cares? Let’s make 'em jealous.”
“Maybe none of you care about your reputations,” Jimin seethed, adjusting the collar of his
uniform. “But there are some of us that do.”
“Why’d you speak up if you care so much about your image?” Taehyung whined, rubbing at his
throbbing bottom.
“Because I care about you two idiots MORE!” The smaller boy snapped, this time whacking both
Seokjin and Taehyung.
“OW!”
Seokjin was laughing.
The view of the courtyard from the classroom was always one that Taehyung treasured. The way
the birds would dip between the tree branches, the way the sun reflected against the windows on
the opposite side. But being up close and personal was an entirely different story; the place was
covered in filth. A layer of dead leaves carpeted the ground, along with a forest of cobwebs, sodden
plastic bags and other varieties of trash.
And while the first ten minutes of the clean up effort was spent in relative silence, a giggle slipping
from none other than Kim Seokjin seemed to brighten the mood instantaneously. As the sky above
faded from pink to purple to black, as the fluorescent lamp lights flickered on to illuminate the
concrete, they spent the rest of detention in remarkably good spirits, cracking jokes incessantly and
doubling over until their stomachs twisted in knots.
They reported back to the principal’s office before the 8:00PM bell with time to spare.
“I can’t believe we still have to study after break,” Yoongi mumbled as the seven of them
wandered back to their classroom, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
“At least it’s only for another two, maybe three hours,” Hoseok piped up cheerfully, stretching his
limbs with a languid yawn.
“I fucking love detention,” Jungkook confessed. “I had a blast. I’m going to learn from you, Tae.
Teach me your-”
The bell began to ring, cutting the boy off mid-sentence.
“Teach what?”
“Your ways.”
“You’ll be just fine on your own, Kookie. The rate you’re going.”
“Fair,” Jungkook nodded, giving his friend a pat on the back. “You guys want ramen tonight?” He
asked. “I brought the extra spicy kind.” A chorus of enthusiastic “yes”s ensued from the group.
But when the seven of them came to a halt at their classroom door, one in particular lingered a little
ways beyond it, slowly backing further down the hallway.
“I’m going to the soccer field,” Seokjin smiled. “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”
“A lone wolf,” Yoongi mumbled.
With a wave goodbye he traversed down the hall, making a turn at the staircase and descending the
steps with a light jog. It was as he'd nearly reached the bottom of the stairs that he could hear
another pair of footsteps following him, slow at first but growing in speed and urgency.
He paused at the double door exit, waiting for the figure to emerge from the shadows.
“Taehyung.”
The two walked side by side, stepping into the wintry cold once more, folding their arms across
their chests for added warmth, the sound of their shaky breaths mingling with the crunch of the turf
beneath their feet. And once they reached the center of the field, they both came to a halt, slowly
lowering themselves to the ground and leaning their backs against the grass.
For the first time they weren’t three hundred feet apart, but just three. And the proximity was rather
jarring for Seokjin.
They lay in silence, blinking shyly at a nonchalant sky, dark clouds rolling across the expanse and
shielding the moon from view. There was nothing interesting to look at aside from one another, yet
neither boy wanted to be the first to look.
“Hey,” Taehyung spoke, a sense of hesitation in his voice.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you stand up for me today?” He asked.
Seokjin glanced to his right to find the boy now staring at him, his eyes sparkling with curiosity in
the dark.
“Oh,” Seokjin replied sheepishly, diverting his gaze back to the clouds. “Maybe I just didn’t want
to study anymore.”
“Quite an extreme measure to skip school.”
“That’s how much I’m losing my mind.”
He liked Taehyung’s laugh. He’d heard it thousands of times from a distance; on the basketball
court, across the room. But never this close, close enough that he could feel it. A deep, surly
chuckle that seemed to belong to someone much larger than himself.
“You ready for the exam on Friday?” Seokjin asked.
“Hell no.”
“Why?”
“I’ll be honest with you,” Taehyung confessed, a smile tugging at his lips. “When I go home after
study session, I spend the rest of the night playing games. I don’t even open my books until I go to
school the next morning.”
Seokjin’s eyes widened in absolute delight. “Games?” His head was fully turned in the Taehyung's
direction now, giving him his undivided attention. “Which games do you play?”
Never had the half hour flown by at such an alarming rate. For when the 8:30PM bell inevitably
rang, pulling them out of the little world they’d created, it was like peeling off a bandaid. Neither
of them wanted to leave.
Chapter End Notes
Hope you enjoyed! As you can see the story is still being set up, but the frame is
slowly taking form.
Let me know what you think in the comments, comments feed my soul! >:)
I think I will upload two chapters a week from now on. Maybe like Monday and
Thursday kind of deal, something like that.
Part 1 | Year 1
Chapter Notes
Before you read, there is a certain day mentioned in this chapter called "White Day."
For those of you unfamiliar with it, it's almost like a second Valentine's Day in many
Asian countries that takes place on March 14th every year. Traditionally your partner
would gift you with something white, i.e. white roses, white chocolate. Just an FYI!
At last there was something new, something different in his routine.
Like clockwork the two of them would slip out of the classroom and disappear at 8:00PM,
resurfacing half an hour later with rosy cheeks and red noses, shivering from the residual chill. One
day Jimin stopped Taehyung just as the boy was pulling his coat on over his blazer. “Where are
you guys going every day, anyway?”
“The soccer field.”
“That’s it? What’s so great about it?”
“None of your business.”
But Jimin had to see for himself. And so that evening it was not two, but three laying sprawl-
eagled on the ground. And the next day four. And the day after that, seven.
So much for peace and quiet.
It was early March when the spring rains came, pummeling the Earth relentlessly, sending all
seven fools scrambling back to the building with coats draped over their precious heads, the sound
of their laughter louder than the storm surrounding them.
---
During lunch the first week of March a new table was suddenly positioned at the front of the
cafeteria, setting the entire school abuzz. A bored looking second year boy from student council sat
behind it, his arms folded in front of him, a clipboard off to the side and a dull looking banner with
the words “Surprise someone on White Day!” printed upon it.
“White Day?” Yoongi scoffed. “Why the hell are they doing this at an all boys’ school?”
“What are you selling, exactly?” Park Jimin asked the representative in charge, approaching the
table with heightened curiosity. An equally inquisitive Jungkook and Taehyung looked over their
friend’s shoulder while the rest of the group lingered by the cafeteria exit, waiting for the three of
them to catch up before heading to the basketball court.
“Roses. Only white ones, because it’s White Day.”
“Like a bouquet or what?”
“Just single stems. We can’t afford to sell bouquets.”
“How does this work, usually?”
“Most people just have the flowers sent to themselves and they’ll do the delivering on their own.”
“Okay, you said most. What about the others?”
“We get anonymous requests within the school, yes.”
“SHUT UP.”
“You’d be surprised,” the boy replied with a yawn. “There are some names in particular that are
pretty popular.”
“Who?” Jimin’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. “Is my name anywhere in the
mix?”
“Uh, what’s your name?” The upperclassman asked with a hint of annoyance, scratching his nose
with the end of the pencil.
“Jimin. Park Jimin, first year…”
“Aish, come on, Jimin,” Jungkook mumbled, grabbing the smaller boy by the wrist and dragging
him away from the table. “You too, Tae…”
But when Jungkook reached down to grab a hold of Taehyung’s wrist, he was met with a swat of
the hand and the shake of the head.
“You guys go first,” he urged them before turning back to the student council member. “I’ll join
you all later.”
“Don’t take too long!” Jungkook cried out, tugging a rather giddy Jimin out of the cafeteria.
He made sure the group was out of sight before he turned back to the boy with the clipboard.
“How much for one?”
---
On the morning of March 14, Seokjin was running behind. Terribly so. He barely had time to wash
his face before throwing on his wrinkled uniform, bolting out the apartment and chasing after the
bus for a good minute before the driver noticed the poor kid and came to a halt on the side of the
road.
He raced past the security ahjussi at the gate, up three flights of steps before veering into his
hallway, shoes clapping loudly against the tiles, eventually slowing to a halt as he neared his
classroom door. The room was already packed to the brim, eyes turning in his direction upon
hearing the creak of the hinge.
“You’re late!” Jungkook sang as a breathless Seokjin lowered himself into his seat, wiping sweat
from his forehead and dropping his bag to his feet with a thump.
“At least the teacher isn’t here,” Seokjin wheezed, making a sad attempt to straighten out his
uniform.
Heads swiveled to the door as it opened once more, this time with a shameless bang as another
second year council member entered the room, arms overflowing with white roses.
“Oh right, it’s White Day,” Namjoon mumbled.
“LEE JAESUNG!” The boy bellowed without introduction, standing at the very front of the class
and scanning the sea of confused first years. Said classmate’s hand shot up, and the upperclassman
beelined for him, dropping a single rose on his desk then promptly moving onto the next name.
“CHOI YOONSEOK!”
“Here!” A voice cried from the back of the class. He squeezed his way down the narrow aisle to
plop another single rose in front of Choi Yoonseok.
“And last but certainly not least,” he announced, heaving a sigh as he said this. “KIM SEOKJIN?”
Seokjin’s eyes widened upon hearing his own name. “Uh, here?” With a tentative raise of his hand.
“Enjoy,” the council member mumbled with a smirk, dumping the rest of the roses onto Seokjin’s
desk.
“Oh my god.”
He couldn’t count just how many roses were stacked before him. An eyeball figure: perhaps
fifteen, twenty? Perfect trimmed flowers, thornless and still dotted with dew, little messages tied to
the stems with a bit of twine.
“Did you buy all these for yourself?” Jungkook laughed, poking Seokjin in the back with the tip of
his pencil.
“Like I have the time for that,” he replied numbly, combing through the pile, eyes glancing at the
various notes scrawled on each piece of paper.
You’re so handsome.
Can we be friends at least?
I don’t know you, but I like you.
He could feel every set of eyes in the class boring holes through his head. And as the teacher
finally made her entrance, she too spotting the heap of flowers nearly concealing Seokjin from
view, never had he wanted to disappear more than that moment.
“Nobody’s surprised,” she tutted, setting up her textbook at the podium to begin the lesson.
---
He had no choice but to lug the flowers around with him for the rest of the day.
Frankly, the sight of it caused a scene everywhere he went. As the first year students spilled into
the hallway at the sound of the lunch bell, those who passed by did a double take at the bouquet
cradled in the boy’s arms.
It was drizzling that afternoon, forcing their group to take a break from basketball to eat in the
cafeteria instead. Just my luck, Seokjin thought to himself as he settled down into his seat, the hum
in the room reaching an all time high as the rain outside continued to pitter patter onto an empty
field.
“Shouldn’t I get a cup of water so they don’t die?” Seokjin asked to no one in particular, his brow
furrowed as he examined the tired stems.
“Show off,” Hoseok teased as Seokjin gingerly set down the roses to his side.
“I didn’t ask for this,” he repeated for what felt like the millionth time that day, the tips of his ears
a bright red.
“How many did you get again?” Namjoon asked.
“Sixteen.”
“Christ,” Yoongi cackled. “We go to an all boys’ school. How is that possible?”
“Beats me.”
“What do the little notes say?” Jimin questioned, craning his neck to peer at the notes for himself.
“Let me see…” Seokjin mumbled, shuffling through and reading half-heartedly. “Handsome, blah
blah...I like you....” He paused, chuckling at one message in particular. “Marry me.” The other
boys joined him in laughter. “No thanks.”
“Seems like most of them just say you’re handsome,” Jungkook noted. “How original. I’ve been
saying that this the whole time…”
“Did you send all of these then?”
“As if.”
“Any of them stand out to you?” Jimin pressed, leaning in even closer to Seokjin, his chin
practically resting on his shoulder.
“Actually, yes.” He fumbled a bit more until he found the one he was looking for. “This one.” He
showed the entire table the rose in mention. “ Notice me. I’m right next to you. ”
An odd hush fell over the group as the boys contemplated the meaning of those words.
“Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh,” Jimin cooed, being the first to break the silence.
“ Right next to you? ” Yoongi pondered, scratching his chin.
“Alright, which one of you is it?” Seokjin pried, eyes flitting from one friend to the next in feigned
scrutiny, finally landing on Kim Taehyung sitting directly across from him, who since the
beginning of lunch had remained absolutely silent, head downcast and fixed on the tray of food
before him. By now Seokjin knew Taehyung well enough to pick up on his occasional moods.
Perhaps he was feeling a bit down again today; was it the weather? Regardless of the reason,
Seokjin decided to take it upon himself to make him laugh again.
“Is it you?” Seokjin nodded towards Taehyung, giving him a light kick under the table and causing
him to flinch in response. The boy opened his mouth as if to say something, but before words could
come out an indignant Jimin interjected with a scowl.
“Yah, Seokjin, we all know you too well by now. The magic is gone.”
Chapter End Notes
Honestly I don't think I'll have a set uploading schedule. I'll just update whenever I feel
compelled to. (Will still be at least once a week though.)
Let me know your thoughts!

Part 1 | Year 2
Chapter Notes
We are now moving into their second year of high school. (Korean high schools have
three years total.) Enjoy!
May: Year 2
The funny thing about reputations: they were always what people wanted to believe.
It was true that Seokjin was a bit of an enigma. On the surface he maintained amicable relations
with everyone; helping underclassmen when the occasion called for it, submitting to the
upperclassmen with just the right amount of reverence, obeying the teachers and authorities with
militaristic discipline. And perhaps such mannerisms combined with his decent looks led people to
procure a fantasy of him. Dream up ideas that were simply untrue.
“I bet he’s dating three, four girls at a time.”
“He’s kind of a cold person, no?”
“I heard he trained to be an idol a couple years ago.”
Ddaeng, ddaeng, ddaeng.
It was suffocating, the way such far-fetched rumors swirled around him like fumes. And while a
part of him wanted to clear the air and set things straight, he knew all efforts would ultimately be
futile. People talked too much; he’d never be able to put out the flames.
I’ve never even looked at a girl like that in my life.
Cold? Is it something about my face?

As if I’d subject myself to slavery.
It was a relief that those close to him knew the real him. The Kim Seokjin who hated crowds and
loud noises, who yearned for simple things like anime marathons and a warm bowl of soup, of
quiet mornings and late night conversations on existential matters. The Kim Seokjin who hated
studying, who didn't really have a dream, who failed to see a point to the whole system. The Kim
Seokjin who found dad jokes and puns to be funnier than they really were, whose laughter sounded
exactly like the squeaking of windshield wipers (and all the boys gave him shit for it).
“You’re a fucking dork,” Jungkook made sure to remind him every day.
In the beginning of their second year, Taehyung’s family moved apartment buildings, his dad
having earned a shiny, hefty promotion at work, his new complex being just a short twenty minute
stroll from Seokjin’s. Having previously lived within walking distance to their school, the boy now
had to acclimate to public transit instead. Luckily he had a rather experienced Seokjin to show him
the ropes.
Taking the bus had its highs and lows. On some nights the passenger count was sparse and the duo
could snag seats by the windows, lean their tired heads against the dusty glass and talk until they
reached their stop. At other times the crowd was a bit of a riot, shoulder to shoulder, packed to the
brim like sardines, sometimes even pushing the two boys apart so that they could only peer at each
other over the heads of strangers.
Perhaps their shared commute naturally prompted the pair to become the closest within the group.
Inseparable, like pieces of velcro stuck together. Jimin was the first to comment on it.
“Have you noticed that Taehyung follows you around like a puppy?”
Rendering laughter from Seokjin. “What do you mean?”
“Like literally that. He’s always by your side. And when he’s not he looks totally lost.”
“How cute.”
“That’s exactly what I mean! He's like a little kid with you, I swear.”
And as if intentionally trying to stir the pot, Jimin then mentioned to Taehyung on a separate
occasion:
“Don’t you think Seokjin gives you special treatment?”
Taehyung hadn’t really been paying attention to Jimin up to that point, nibbling on the straw of his
juice box as he absentmindedly played a game of Tetris on his phone. His eyes shot up from the
screen the moment he heard Seokjin’s name.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s always looking after you. When you lag behind in the group, he waits for you. When you
struggle with homework, he goes out of his way to help you. When you’re feeling down, he tries so
hard to cheer you up. Haven’t you noticed?”
Jimin could tell that his words were having a noticeable effect on Taehyung, for the boy was trying
his very best to conceal the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I never noticed,” he lied through his teeth.
“Oh really now?” Jimin cooed, ruffling his friend’s messy hair with a smirk. “Well everyone else
has.”
---
It was no secret that the seven of them were best friends. Even when they’d leave school premises
and go their separate ways they still kept in touch with one another. Hoseok even created a KKT
group chat that was daily filled with their typical madness and mayhem.
Almost everyone hit a growth spurt by second year. Namjoon somehow sprouted another three
inches, securing his title as one of the tallest students in the entire school and proving to be quite an
intimidating figure on the basketball court.
“If I had your height,” Yoongi grumbled, “I’d be in the NBA by now.”
“Just you wait Kim Namjoon,” Jimin would wag his finger. “I’ll catch up to you. I’m a late
bloomer, but I’ll beat you to it.”
Out of the seven, three of the boys participated in student body governance, with Jimin taking the
cake as not only class representative for their classroom of fifty but class president for their year of
five hundred strong. The kid won by a landslide during both years’ elections.
Namjoon and Seokjin were simply student council representatives, with the former severely
lacking in commitment as he was too busy studying English and sprinting from one cram school to
another. Seokjin spent considerably less time with his nose in the books, so he somewhat enjoyed
the lengthy, pointless weekly meetings headed by none other than best friend Park Jimin. It was
highly entertaining, watching Jimin trying to upkeep a serious face and failing miserably every
time the two made eye contact.
“Got something to say, Kim Seokjin?” Jimin would pipe up in the middle of announcements.
“Nothing, Class President. You’re doing a great job.”
Every council member had his own responsibilities. Kangwoo was in charge of accounting. He was
terrible at arithmetics but incredibly fond of money. Namjoon was in charge of event planning,
which meant no events were ever planned. Seokjin was regularly assigned to hallway patrols.
“Don’t you want to do something more meaningful?” Jimin asked several times, to which Seokjin
always shook his head in response. “This is my life’s calling, Jimin.”
Patrols during study session mostly meant doing a half-assed sweep of each hallway, then sneaking
Taehyung out of their classroom to go outside and take a lap around the track, usually sharing a can
of coffee as a pick-me-up. They could never be gone for too long. The teacher was under the
assumption that Taehyung had an overactive bladder and needed an incomprehensible number of
bathroom breaks.
“What do you tell the teacher every time?” Seokjin asked as he took a swig for himself, then
handed the can back to Taehyung.
“HA!” The boy laughed so hard he nearly spit out the drink. “I don’t say much. Just make this
super sad face like I’m about to piss my pants.”
---
Seokjin had a habit of pulling on Taehyung’s bookbag (sometimes too hard) to get the boy’s
attention. “HEY!” He’d creep up from behind, sending his friend flying backwards several feet,
stumbling wildly in the process. Taehyung’s response was usually something along the lines of
“Cut it out,” or “Get away from me,” but his face always told a different story.
There was something about the warmer weather that drew crowds out later and later every evening.
By the month of May the 10:30PM bus was practically overflowing on a nightly basis, the driver
often yelling at the patrons to keep squeezing, shuffling to fit more. They both began to hate the
bus.
“Can’t we walk?” Taehyung whined one day as another packed vehicle pulled up to the curb with a
dreadful squeak.
“It’s almost a two hour walk one-way.”
“The view could be nice.”
“You know it isn’t.”
Even with the AC on full blast it was useless, with too many bodies and breaths mingled into one
space. “Back it up!” The driver cried at the huffing passengers as a new wave of high school boys
boarded in a single file line.
“Jin-”
“I’m right here, Tae.”
“Where-”
“Hold onto me.”
Like a ship on an angry sea, Taehyung found himself being jostled from one shoulder to another,
the mild stench of sweat and musk, the rise and fall of chatter overpowering him until he felt a
familiar hand grab him by the arm and pull him out of the chaos.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
He was pressed against Seokjin now, his cheek plastered against the taller boy’s chest, a protective
arm wrapped around his shoulder, keeping him secured in place as the bus lurched forward.
For a moment Taehyung felt brave. He looked up from the buttons of Seokjin’s uniform to meet
his gaze, only to regret the impulse immediately and retreat back down to chest level. At least he
can’t see me smiling from here.
If he had to be dramatic, and admittedly Taehyung had a proclivity for it: if the bus was a storm
then Seokjin was the eye of it; a fortress, a refuge, one that smelled refreshingly of pine and
laundry detergent.
“How many more stops?” Taehyung mumbled into Seokjin’s shirt, utterly pleased with his current
predicament.
“Three more,” Seokjin responded, pulling the boy just a little closer.
Taehyung was suddenly reminded of their first several weeks at school, of the silence that
manifested between them like a brick wall. How it all came crashing down the moment Seokjin
pulled his idiotic, self-sacrificing act of serving detention alongside Taehyung. And from that day
onwards it was as if the floodgates had opened and there was no turning back; the two couldn’t
stay away from each other even if their friends tried to pry them apart.
But now, for the first time in over a year, it was silent again save for the sound of his own heart
pounding in his ears.
“We’re here, Tae.”
With a flurry of “excuse me,”s and “sorry”s they wiggled their way past the other bodies to the
open door, stumbling down the steps and onto the sidewalk.
“You can let go of me now, Jin.”
“I can’t.”
“No really, I’m fine-”
“No like I really can’t.”
They wavered at the curb of the deserted station, the bus having quickly departed, the other
students that had disembarked with them already scattered in separate directions. Yet the two
remained in the exact same position they’d maintained during the entirety of the bus ride: Seokjin’s
arm still firmly wrapped around Taehyung’s shoulder.
“W-What do you mean-”
“I mean my...I think I have a stray thread stuck on your button.”
“OH.”
“Hold still, let me try and…”
He could feel Seokjin’s other hand reaching up to said button on his right shoulder, shaky fingers
fumbling with the knots, the sound of the taller boy’s focused breathing close to Taehyung’s cheek.
Dare I look up again? His eyes shot up for a moment to catch a glimpse of Seokjin’s ears,
glaringly red in the pale moonlight.
“Any luck?” Taehyung mumbled after some time of struggle.

“Tae, I…” Seokjin sighed. “I might have to rip off the button, is that okay?”
“Do what you have to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
Pop.
It felt like breaking the surface after holding his breath underwater, the moment Seokjin stepped
away from him with a sigh of relief, a little button resting in the palm of his hand.
“I can’t believe that happened,” Taehyung laughed, carefully picking up the item and turning it
over within his long fingers.
“Let me fix it,” Seokjin insisted, snatching it back into his possession.
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll have my eomma do it,” Taehyung retorted, reaching for it again only
to have Seokjin dodge his attempt.
“I broke it, I’ll fix it.”
“You can sew?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You stubborn ass.”
“Give me your blazer.”

“Aish, this is the only one I have right now,” Taehyung whined. “My other one’s at the cleaner’s.”
“I promise you, I’ll get it back to you tomorrow morning.”
A long pause as Taehyung eyed the pleading boy in front of him, whose lips had formed into an
endearing pout.
“Fine,” He finally relented, pulling his arms out of the jacket sleeves and handing it to Seokjin.
“But you really don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” Seokjin smiled, draping the jacket neatly over his arm. “I want to.”
---
Early May meant that the day could start off brisk and chilly, yet by afternoon the sun could be
sweltering. As Taehyung waited at the bus station the next morning, shivering in just a collared
shirt, eyes peering down the street in hopes of seeing Seokjin, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
Seokjinnie: Go without me. I’ll catch the next one, running late.
Taehyungie: Okay~
He rode the bus in solitude, bobbing his head to an album he’d randomly discovered while studying
the night before. A jazz collection of Chet Baker’s greatest hits. Up until that point he’d only
bothered listening to whatever was charting on Gaon. And while he couldn’t understand a word of
what this Baker guy was singing, somehow the music still managed to move him.
It was two minutes before the teacher walked in that Seokjin made his grand entrance, bursting
through the classroom door, eyes locked on the boy seated innocently by the far window.
“Sorry,” he whispered breathlessly, laying down a perfectly folded blazer on Kim Taehyung’s desk
before hurrying back to his own.
The teacher could walk in any moment now. With haste Taehyung unfolded the navy blue jacket,
pausing when he spotted a piece of paper poking out from the front pocket. Written on the paper in
messy scrawl was Seokjin’s unmistakeable handwriting:
Sorry. I only had purple.
“What?” Taehyung mumbled under his breath, turning the material over until he located the button
in question. And sure enough, sticking out amongst the rest of the buttons like a sore thumb, was
the one that Seokjin had yanked off the night before, now secured with a shock of purple thread.
He barely had time to get the blazer on over his shoulders before the door flew open once again,
this time the teacher walking in with the familiar click clack of her heels, class president Park Jimin
rising to his feet to announce her arrival.
Chapter End Notes
Hope you liked, leave a comment and let me know what you think, don't be a silent
reader!
Thought I would share a really nice song I heard recently, it made me cry. "How can I
love the heartbreak, you're the one I love" by AKMU. I know it's a long title haha but
really worth the listen.
Part 1 | Year 2
Chapter Notes
“Do you guys ever get tired of each other?”
Seokjin widened his eyes. “No. Not at all.”
He and another third year council member were assigned to double patrol duty, tasked with tearing
down all of the election posters hanging around the school building. Seokjin could never
remember the guy’s name, despite having crossed paths several times. So he resorted to calling
him “sunbae,” making certain that the word dripped with affection every time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you guys apart from one another,” the upperclassman continued. Not
in an accusatory tone, but rather out of genuine curiosity. “You’re on the basketball court together.
You’re all in the same class together. Some of you even go to Hagwon together.”
“How do you know that?”
“People see, people talk.”
They came to a halt on the peripheral of a familiar classroom door, Seokjin quickly tapping a
message into his phone before tucking it back into his pocket. Mere seconds later the door of the
room creaked open, Taehyung tentatively poking his head out from the frame.
“Let’s go,” Seokjin whispered.
The three boys tiptoed past the room until they were well out of earshot.
“You got the coffee?” Taehyung asked when they finally reached the other end of the hall.
“Of course,” Seokjin replied. “Sunbae, can you hold this?” He passed the pile of old posters to the
third year and dug the can of coffee out of his pocket, handing it to an eager Taehyung. “Thanks,”
he mumbled, taking the papers back into his possession.
“Oh right, forgot the introductions. Sunbae, this is Taehyung. Taehyung, this is…” Seokjin trailed
off, hoping to dear God that his fellow council member would speak up for himself. Yet all that
ensued was an awkward silence as the other two boys waited for him to finish his sentence.
“T-This is...sunbae,” Seokjin stuttered.
“Sunbae?” Taehyung questioned, shooting the older boy an inquisitive look.
“Yah Kim Seokjin, do you not know my name?”
“Shit.”
Third year Minwoo sunbae had a good point. One was rarely seen without the other. Even when it
was narrowed down to pairs or trios: Jimin and Jungkook holed up in their usual hideout in the
library, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi riding their bikes to Hagwon, Taehyung and Seokjin doing
their mindless laps around the track field at night. It was difficult to corner one of them on their
own.
There was hardly any relief in the heat of late June, the workload and its subsequent pressure
mounting like a ticking time bomb. End of the semester exams were quickly approaching, which
meant late, late nights at school were all too common. Most students stayed well past 1:00AM, let
alone 10:00PM.
“You’d think they’d give us two breaks, with all of us sticking our necks out like this,” Yoongi
muttered bitterly as the seven of them wandered out of their classroom at the 8:00PM bell.
“You guys really don’t want ramen?” Jungkook asked one more time before Jimin gave him a good
slap on the arm.
“We need fresh air,” Hoseok nodded in agreement with Jimin. “I can’t stay holed up in that little
room any longer.”
They could never kick the ritual of laying out in the soccer field. It was a sacred thing now, a
practice that belonged to them and solely them. Sometimes they’d spot a group of first years
fooling around on the basketball court or a huddle of third years taking secret smoke breaks by the
chain link fence. But no one dared to venture onto their turf.
They laid down side by side like matches in a box, leaning their tired heads against the wet grass,
resting their eyes for just half an hour before their eventual return to hell.
“No talking,” Yoongi ordered. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“Me too,” Namjoon mumbled sleepily at his side.
That night Taehyung was lying smack in the middle, a dozing Seokjin to his left and a bored
looking Jungkook to his right.
“You sleeping?” Taehyung whispered to the boy on his left, giving his cheek a little poke, giggling
as he stirred in his slumber.
“Hnnng.”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Taehyung whispered, scooting his body over so that his head was nestled on
Seokjin’s shoulder.
“Go away.”
Which only prompted him to move even closer.
Perhaps there was no use in trying to sleep; his body was tired but his mind remained wide awake,
buzzing with useless thoughts, senseless worries. Blinking open his heavy eyelids, he shifted his
gaze towards another cloudy, starless expanse, the moon well hidden from sight, the night
absolutely still with not a hint of a breeze to set the sky in motion.
“We never see the stars,” Seokjin’s lips moved without him realizing it.
“Yeah. It’s depressing,” Hoseok piped up to Seokjin’s left.
“Hopeless,” Seokjin chuckled. “Just like our future.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jungkook shot back.
“They’re up there somewhere,” Taehyung whispered into Seokjin’s shoulder.
“When was the last time you guys saw real stars?” Hoseok asked no one in particular. A brief pause
before an unexpected voice broke the silence.
“Elementary school,” Yoongi answered, his eyes still sealed shut. “The last time I visited my uncle
in the countryside.”
“What was that like?”
“Incredible. You couldn’t even count them if you tried.”
“Oh, there’s one,” Seokjin mumbled, pointing at a little light skirting through the clouds.
“That’s an airplane, you dummy,” Taehyung laughed, giving the boy an affectionate punch on the
arm.
“Ah. No wonder it’s moving.”
“You idiot,” Taehyung cackled, giving Seokjin another shove before pulling him closer again.
“It’s not even funny?” Yoongi muttered incredulously, turning to Namjoon who was also in the
middle of a hefty eye-roll.
“Five minutes, guys,” Hoseok reminded the group, earning a collective groan from the other six.
“If only we had five more hours,” Jimin sighed, a sad smile upon his lips.
They spent the rest of their five minutes in absolute silence, save for the distant voices drifting in
from the basketball court and the sound of their own varied breathing, slow and steady, rising and
falling like waves.
Hoseok glanced at the watch on his wrist, lips forming into a small pout when he realized that the
bell would ring any minute now. As he lifted his head to check on the rest of the group, his eyes
fell upon a particularly entangled pair in the middle: Taehyung using Seokjin’s arm as a pillow, his
face buried snugly under the taller boy’s chin.
“Look at those two,” Hoseok whispered, elbowing Jungkook to his left.
“What’s new,” Jungkook mouthed back.
“Go and mess with them,” Hoseok prompted, cracking into a wide grin. Jungkook raised his
eyebrows in compliance, rolling over in the grass so that he was facing Taehyung’s back.
“Hey Tae,” Jungkook mumbled, tugging on the sleeve of the boy’s blazer. “Tae. TAE.”
“What?” Taehyung snapped, finally peering over his shoulder at a smirking Jungkook.
“What’s up with this button?” Jungkook commented, flicking it with his finger and trying his best
to keep a straight face. “What’s with the purple? Who did this?”
“Cut it out,” Taehyung whined, shrugging Jungkook’s hand away. Hoseok had to look the other
direction to hide his silent laughter.
“It was me.”
All heads turned to the sound of Seokjin’s voice. “I did it.”

---
“You don’t think Jin likes him too, do you?”
The two boys were camped out in their usual corner of the library, sitting side by side in a pool of
light spilling in through the fourth floor window.
Park Jimin paused in his reading, bringing the book down to his lap, chewing on his lip as he
pondered Jungkook’s question.
“What do you think?” Jimin whispered.
“I think he does.”
A brief silence, aside from the librarian’s faint coughing in the far corner.
“He’s...Jin’s hard to read,” Jimin began, choosing each word carefully.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t treat anyone else the way he treats Tae.”
“True,” Jimin mumbled, chuckling sadly and thumbing the corner of the next page.
“Why the long face?”
With a glance over his left shoulder, then his right, making certain that the coast was clear, he
leaned in close to Jungkook and cleared his throat. “Do we even know if Jin is...you know?”
“You can never really tell,” Jungkook shrugged, taking a hefty bite out of his apple.
“Careful, if she catches you eating in here we’re out.”
“It’s fine.”
“Chew quieter please.”
“You’re annoying.”
Another pause as Jimin reached behind his ear for his pencil, jotting some notes down in the
margins of the page.
“Should we ask him?” Jungkook suddenly piped up, catching his friend off guard.
“Fuck no.”
“Why not?”
“You can’t just ask someone like that out of the blue. It’s insensitive.”
“Ah. True.”
“Besides. Tae…” He tucked the pencil back behind his ear. “Tae will only get hurt in the end.”
“Why?”
“Jin will never let it happen. Whether he’s in love with Taehyung or not.”
Chapter End Notes
Thank you for the lovely feedback so far! They're very encouraging and definitely
prompt me to edit faster haha. At this rate it seems like I'm updating every other day
no?
I think part of me is eager to get to the heavier stuff. The earlier chapters are quite
light and a bit slower paced, all with the purpose of setting a strong foundation for not
only Taejin but their friend group. I know some of you may enjoy this kind of fluff, but
real movement is coming.
Please also pay attention to the smaller details; they will resurface sooner or later in
the story. My writing style is nuanced and I will often trust the reader to make their
own conclusions/assumptions. If you're ever confused, please don't be afraid to ask for
confirmation.
Continue to let me know your thoughts. :) I really, truly appreciate every single
comment.
I will probably update very soon. Either tomorrow or the day after. Stay tuned. <3
Part 1 | Year 3
Chapter Notes
We are now in year 3, the final year of high school for these boys. All of them are 19
years old at this point.
Some fun FYI's that may be useful in better understanding the story: the Korean
school year begins around Feb/Mar and ends around Dec. They'll have a couple
months off in the summer, but when they return from break they're still in the same
grade.
In high school, not only will each individual classroom have a representative, but so
will every grade, and ultimately there will be one individual as the entire school's
representative.
That's all I can think of for now. Enjoy!
September: Year 3
“Kai bai BO.”
A chorus of laughter.
“Bye Yoongi.”
“Why is it always me?”
“Get me the spicy one. The spicy crab one.”
“The usual for everyone else?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, wait, hold on. Can you also get me...oh, what’s it called. Get me banana milk, but that one
brand, the one with the-”
“I know, I know which one. Anyone else besides Jungkook?”
“No, that’s it. Go go go.”
With a dramatic sigh the third year boy stood onto his feet, prying open his coin pouch to make
sure he had enough money. When he was sure that he did he stuffed the bag back into his pocket,
gave the group a sullen shake of the head, and disappeared out of the classroom.
“I’ll just go next time,” Seokjin chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “It really is always him.
I feel bad.”
“How can you suck so bad at rock paper scissors?” Hoseok wondered out loud. “I thought it was a
game of chance, not skill.”
Much unlike the pursuit of education. None of that was chance. All of it was skill.
It was only their first week back from a two month long summer break, one that hardly felt like rest
and was instead consumed by Hagwon and camping out at the library, coupled with long nights of
tossing and turning, of fretting over their future. Far too often Seokjin would wake up from his
sleep in a cold sweat, throat tight and chest heaving.
Why do I care so much? He wondered, laying flat on his back and practicing his breathing, waiting
until his anxiety died down before instinctively reaching for his phone.
Seokjinnie: Tae~
Taehyungie: You okay? It’s 4AM…
Seokjinnie: I’m fine
Seokjinnie: Why are you up?
Taehyungie: Can’t sleep again. You?
Seokjinnie: Same :(
Taehyungie: I want to see you
Seokjinnie: Meet at the usual?
Taehyungie: :)
If it wasn’t for the ghastly hour they’d settle on one of their places, watch old animes or play video
games until one of their mothers would give them an earful and beg them to go outside and get
some fresh air. But at 4:00AM, they had no choice BUT to go outside and “enjoy the fresh air”:
meet at a perfect halfway point between their two apartments, a small bench situated in the center
of a “park,” if you could even call it that. Really just a gathering of trees surrounding a sad
bubbling fountain, the surface of the water often layered with dead leaves.
The bench served no other purpose but to pass time. Wait for the minutes to tick forward, the light
of day to seep through their veins, for the inevitable fatigue to sink into their bones. On some
nights they’d exchange words of nonsense, of meandering ramblings into the burgeoning hours of
dawn. Other times they’d sit in absolute silence; sharing a pair of headphones, Taehyung’s head
cradled in Seokjin’s lap, soft jazz crooning in their ears. Chet Baker of course, but a healthy
helping of Coltrane, Brubeck, and Blossom Dearie, too. Seokjin had a habit of draping his arm
across the boy’s chest, the gentle pulsing of Taehyung’s heartbeat slowing down Seokjin’s anxious
heart, too.
Jazz was never really Seokjin’s style, but he learned to appreciate its nuances, its angsty melodies
whenever he looked down at the boy in his lap, whenever he saw a small smile stretch across his
lips at the beginning of each song.
“Am I too young to be afraid like this?” Taehyung murmured tiredly, turning over onto his side and
burying his face in Seokjin’s stomach.
“Everyone says it’ll get better after high school,” Seokjin assured him.
“Are you scared?” Taehyung mumbled into Seokjin’s shirt.
“I’m doing okay,” he lied.
“You sure? Because I can hear your heart and it’s beating crazy fast.”
“I’m fine,” he promised, his throat feeling awfully dry.

They stayed there until sunrise. Taehyung eventually dozed off, his breaths seeping through the
cotton of Seokjin’s shirt and warming his skin. Seokjin remained wide awake, eyes fixed on the
canopies of the trees above and the timid morning light filtering through, the last of Miles Davis’s
album humming against his eardrums. It was as the birds joined in song that the dreaming boy
stirred in his sleep.
“You wanna grab coffee and head back?”
“Mhm.”
“Let’s go.”
There was a cafe just a stone’s throw away from the park that opened bright and early every day, a
place that the two frequented so generously that most of the baristas there knew them on a first
name basis.
“Morning noona,” Seokjin greeted the girl behind the counter.
“You two!” She cried, gawking at the boys in disbelief. “7AM on a Saturday, are you crazy?”
They ordered their usual share of lattes and migrated to the windowside, taking a perch on the
wooden stools and leaning on the counter for support. Taehyung was playing with a piece of
napkin, tearing it apart at random and leaving a bit of a mess in his wake.
“You have these huge bags under your eyes,” Seokjin commented. “And your face is bloated. Like
loaves of bread.”
“Yaish. You don’t look so hot either, Kim Seokjin.”
“Now I know that’s a lie. When has that ever been true?”
He chuckled in amusement as Taehyung tugged languidly at the collar of his white tee, one that
Seokjin was certain he’d worn several days in a row now. A bit off-putting, considering how
frighteningly hot and humid it could get in August, in the height of monsoon season. Early
mornings and late nights were a bit more forgiving, but in the dead of day the weather was
relentless, teetering between either scalding heat or torrential downpours. The aircon in that little
coffee shop was somewhat of a godsend.
“Guess what,” Taehyung piped up, pushing the pile of shredded napkin off to the side.
“What.”
“Did you know-” The barista placed two warm cups of coffee in front of the boys, simultaneously
scooping the mess of napkin into her hands and confiscating it. “Thank you. Did you know I
actually don’t like coffee?” He confessed while lifting the latte to his lips.
“What are you talking about,” Seokjin laughed. “You’re lying.”
“I’m dead serious,” Taehyung nodded, sprinkling in a bit of sugar for added taste.
“Since when?”
“Since forever.”
“We’ve drank coffee every day together for the last like three years.”
“Trust me, I’ve never liked coffee.”
“You liar-”
“I like you though.”
“H-what?”
A brief silence as Taehyung picked up the mug to take yet another sip of the beverage he
supposedly despised.
“Needs to be sweeter,” the boy mumbled, ripping apart another packet of sugar. It was as he tossed
the empty packet to the side that he looked up to find Kim Seokjin staring at him, boring holes
through his forehead.
“You okay?”
To which Seokjin cleared his throat and looked out the window instead. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
---
When Jimin was elected to be the school representative of over 1,500 students, the boys went
absolutely berserk. Pretended to worship him, to grovel at his feet.
“Park Jimin is so cool.”
“I want to be JUST like him.”
“Oppa~”
“Don’t you oppa me, you ass.”
“Yah, how can you speak to our president like that?”
“Fuck, you’re right. Should we use honorifics from now on?”
“I think we should.”
“I’m done with you guys.”

Once a member of student governance was promoted to schoolwide representation, the neighboring
institutions would naturally learn of his existence. It was the closest any of them would ever come
to celebrity status.
“That Park Jimin, he’s a charmer.”
“I’ve heard about him. He only cares about that group of weirdos he’s always hanging around
with.”
A flurry of giggles. “What about that Kim Seokjin guy? Have you heard of him? He’s insanely
handsome.”
“I have a friend of a friend who knew him in middle school. Says he’s kind of a weirdo as well.”
Perhaps the most significant responsibility of student council was the selection of the third year's
class trip destination. The last hurrah for their class of five hundred strong, the final number before
the curtain would fall upon their graduation. The decision was usually solidified in the spring,
nearly half a year in advance. Such planning required coordinated teamwork, of which Jimin’s
team lacked severely. Kangwoo the accountant and Namjoon the event planner had to work hand
in hand, yet the two had hardly ever spoken a word to one another.
“I really don’t have time for this, if I have to be honest,” Namjoon confessed to Kangwoo off to the
side after a particularly chaotic meeting. “I have the TOEFL coming up, I’ve got to study.”
“That’s cool. I really don’t care, either.”
“Oh thank God.”
“But Namjoon, you still gonna go on the class trip or you gonna skip?”
“Oh, I’m still going. I just don’t want to plan it.”

Which only meant that the task was dumped into Seokjin and Jimin’s hands. Not that the duo
minded; the prospect of having the power to choose was far too enticing to pass up. And so with a
bit of an arrogant flair, the two sat the group down during one of their study breaks, dropping the
question upon the other boys like a bomb.
“Where do you guys wanna go?”
“PARIS!” Taehyung screeched.
“BALI BALI BALI-”
“AMERICA!”
“YAISH!” Jimin hissed. “In KOREA, guys. There’s a budget for fucks sake.”
“Ah,” Yoongi nodded, sinking slowly into his chair as he racked his brains. “Budget, huh?”
“What about Busan?” Jungkook suggested.
“That could work,” Jimin agreed, quickly jotting the idea down in his planner.
“Or Damyang,” Namjoon piped up. “The bamboo forests are amazing.”
“You lost your privileges for ideas, Joon,” Seokjin interjected. “But yeah, Damyang sounds nice,
write that down.”
“JEJU!” Taehyung cried, this time with even more intensity than before.
“OH that would be nice, actually,” Hoseok nodded, popping a chip into his mouth. “Would that be
within the budget, you think?”
“Might be a bit pricey, but we can look into it.”
“JEJU JEJU JEJU-”
“WE SAID WE’LL LOOK INTO IT!” Jimin bellowed.
---
It was a tough case to present to the school’s administration, seeing that after several rounds of
calculations, the total cost of the trip spilled well over the designated budget. “Why can’t you guys
just go to Busan or something?” The principal asked, rubbing his temples as Jimin stood behind his
desk, eagerly awaiting the green light.
“But it’s me, sir! Can’t you make an exception?”
“You? What about you, Jimin?”
“Because I’m your favorite -”
Seokjin during the entire exchange had stood wordlessly by the school representative’s side. His
mouth dropped open in shock when the principal actually responded to Jimin’s aegyo with a
defeated “yes.”
So it was remarkable, really, for the seven of them to find themselves standing on the shores of
Jeju in the thick of September, red fire sun dipping low in the horizon and lowering slowly into the
water.
He couldn’t remember the last time he saw all of his friends out of their navy blue uniforms and in
casual clothes instead. Traveling together had been a whirlwind of chaos; meeting at the airport in
the early hours of dawn, occupying not one but two entire flights, the inevitable rowdiness of the
third years driving the flight attendants mad.
The beach was another world, one far beyond the weight of reality; of school, of responsibilities
and obligations. A utopia of soft cold sand and lazy evening birds, of rosy pink skies and the
beckoning of high tide. Seokjin cackled as he watched Namjoon and Hoseok run hand in hand
straight into the water, its currents icy cold and biting to the touch.
“Okay, okay DON’T DRAG ME ANY FURTHER!” Namjoon pleaded as the two tumbled into the
sea. Somehow the sound of Hoseok’s laughter carried higher than the chorale of waves crashing
onto the shore.
Just three boys chose to remain on dry land; Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin. Yoongi laid flat on
his back with a cap resting over his face, arms crossed comfortably behind his head. Taehyung
observed their frolicking friends with glee, absentmindedly grabbing fistfuls of sand and dumping
it onto Seokjin’s toes.
“The sky is purple today,” he suddenly piped up, a soft smile upon his face.
“It’s beautiful,” Seokjin murmured, his feet now completely buried.
“You know purple is my favorite color?”
“Since when?”
“A while ago.”
A gentle snore sounded from their left, prompting both boys to glance at Yoongi, who had now
drifted into a deep slumber. But his peace did not last long, for mere seconds later a sopping wet
Hoseok and Namjoon descended upon their victim, yanking Yoongi from his makeshift bed and
dragging him towards the relentless sea.
“He had it comin’,” Seokjin chuckled as Yoongi’s head went under.
“Poor thing. We’re always giving him a hard time, aren’t we?” Taehyung nodded in agreement.
Yoongi had resurfaced from the waves, sputtering and scrambling away from a cackling Jungkook.
“I HATE WATER!” They could hear him hollering.
Yet despite the pandemonium unfolding in front of them, it was hard not to stare at the view next to
him. He watched as the wind toyed with Taehyung’s bangs, rebellious locks tickling his lashes,
prompting him to flick the hairs out of his eyes. The boy had a soft side profile. A gentle sloping
nose, an elegant, pointed chin, and the prettiest pink lips Seokjin had ever seen.
“You wanna go in the water?” Seokjin asked, gaze unwavering.
“No.”
“Too bad.”
The next thing Taehyung knew he too was being pulled from the ground, Seokjin’s hand grasped
firmly around his wrist, both of them stumbling over their own feet as they charged towards the
water to join their screaming friends.
They would never forget the taste of salt on their tongues, the sight of lavender skies, the feeling of
cold ocean against their skin.
Chapter End Notes
Well what do you guys think? Please let me know, hehe.

Part 1 | Year 3
Chapter Notes
Hello! New chapter, please enjoy.
You will see hints of canon sprinkled throughout this story, just a reminder that this is
still fiction haha.
The seven of them returned to their campsite a sopping wet mess, earning curious looks from the
rest of their classmates.
“You guys missed dinner!” Classmate Lee Minhyuk bellowed as they each made their way to their
respective cabins.
“Shit.”
“Did you guys save us anything?” Jimin asked sweetly, approaching the picnic table and eyeing the
remnants of said dinner.
“Of course,” Minhyuk assured, gesturing towards a pile of food covered in foil off to the side.
“My man, Minhyuk,” Jimin grinned, clapping the boy on the back.
They changed out of their soaked attire and tried their best to wring them dry, hanging them on a
clothing line stretched between two large pine trees. Some of them had opted to shower after their
ocean escapade, whereas others (namely Taehyung and Jimin) were simply too lazy and changed
straight into new outfits instead.
There were a good number of fire pits going, blazes roaring and cackling in the now inky darkness,
their class split into small groups huddled around the flames. After they had each helped
themselves to Minhyuk’s leftovers, they one by one trickled to the fireside, plopping their tired
bodies down into chairs and scooting their feet closer to the hearth. By the time their other
classmates retreated into their cabins, the seven resided stubbornly by the remaining embers, the
smell of smoke lingering on their skin.
“So much for showering,” Seokjin chuckled, shifting in his seat. A long yawn escaped from a
sleepy Yoongi to his right.
“You tired already?” Jimin teased.
“From the way you guys tortured me today? Yes,” Yoongi replied, eyes skirting to the cabins just
beyond the trees. The six of them knew he was simply waiting for the conversation to die down
and the fire to go out before he’d bolt back to his precious bed.
“You’re not allowed,” Taehyung pouted. “This is our last trip together. We’re gonna stay up all
night.”
“Please, spare me-”
“You’re gonna miss out on all the fun.”
“I’ll see you losers every day at school,” Yoongi mumbled, sinking lower into his seat until his
bum was nearly off of the chair.
“Yeah, but not like this,” Namjoon piped up suddenly.
“I mean that Tae’s right. This is a rare opportunity."
"Is it-"
"We don’t have much time left.”
It was then that the sobering realization hit each and every one of them, leaving the group in a long
bout of silence. They were third years now. In just a couple months, they would graduate high
school and walk out of its wretched doors for good.
“Well that’s depressing,” Yoongi sighed, scratching the side of his chin. “Now I won’t be able to
sleep at all.”
“Are any of us actually getting sleep these days?” Jimin surveyed, only to be met with a chorus of
adamant “no”s.
“I’m so stressed,” Namjoon groaned. “I’m waiting to hear back from Yale, and I-”
“At least you don’t have to take the national exam,” Yoongi shot back. “At least you can take the
SAT’s as many times as you like. We only have one chance.”
“It’s ridiculous. What if something happens on the day of the test? Like what if you get the shits?
What happens then?” Jungkook whined.
“Then you go to a shit school,” Jimin answered without missing a beat.
“Don’t you guys feel like we’re studying for nothing?” Hoseok mused, scuffing his foot against the
dirt. “We’re never going to use any of this bullshit in real life.”
“All the time.”
“Like what do you guys actually want to do with your lives? No, better question - what did you
guys want to be when you were kids?”
“Why are you asking so many questions, Hobi?”
“I’m just curious. We’ve never talked about this before.”
“Farmer,” Taehyung and Seokjin answered in unison, the two surprising one another.
“REALLY?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow at Seokjin from across the fire.
“I was about to ask you the same.”
“You guys didn’t plan this?” Jimin pressed, head swiveling between his friends.
“No, not at all. What’s your reasoning, Jin?”
“My uncle had a strawberry farm in the countryside. I used to visit a lot as a kid. You?”
“I have family out there too.”
“That’s fair.”
“I wanted to be a swordsman,” Jimin confessed with a serious expression, the others descending
into fits of giggles.
“Swordsman, you know. Like in the movies. I can’t remember which movie I watched but
afterwards I begged my mom to let me do it. She actually agreed to sign me up for classes. I’m still
a bit shocked she was okay with it.”
“How old were you, Jimin?”
“I-”
“Sixteen,” Jungkook answered for him.
“-Five, you idiot,” Jimin fired back, giving Jungkook a sizeable shove of the shoulder.
“This was last year.”
“So do any of you know what you actually wanna do?” Jimin pressed, ignoring his best friend’s
incessant teasing. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“I wanna be a writer,” Namjoon mumbled. “Write novels.”
“Good on you, Joon. I can see you doing that.”
“Designer,” Taehyung added.
“Producer.” Hoseok followed. “Music.”
Seokjin mulled over the question, turning it over and over in his mind until the words stopped
making sense. What do I actually want to be? He glanced at his now quiet friends as they too
grappled with their own existential matters. Why am I even taking part in this conversation?
Seokjin finally conceded, releasing a lengthy sigh in the process. The boy had no choice; his future
had practically been set in stone since birth. In his younger, more innocent years, not once did he
question his fate of succeeding his father as CEO of the family business. Why wouldn’t he want to
be just like his old man? Rich, powerful, comfortable . And yet somehow, and he couldn’t pinpoint
exactly why, in the last three years of high school a seed of doubt began to grow within his mind.
For the first time in his life he began questioning everything he thought he knew to be true. And
that tiny seed, that stubborn, pesky thing he’d tried to smother, had now taken roots, gripping him
wholly, making it difficult to breathe.
“Office worker like my dad,” he heard himself answer numbly.
Through the wisps of rising smoke he could see Taehyung eyeing him strangely, a look of disbelief
upon his face.
“You mean sexy CEO,” Jimin teased. “Can you guys imagine Seokjin ten years from now?
Walking around in his big corner office, ordering his minions around, wearing a smart ass suit…”
Seokjin could only chuckle weakly.

“Can you hire me if I end up on the streets?” Yoongi mumbled.
“You?” Seokjin laughed genuinely this time. “Anyone but you.”
---
It was 3:00AM by the time they dragged their weary bodies away from the dying ashes,
exchanging whispers of “goodnight” before going their separate ways. With a careful hand Seokjin
pushed open his cabin door, wincing at the slight creak of the wood as he tiptoed across the
floorboards to his tiny twin bed. I smell like firewood , he thought to himself as he slipped under
the covers, placing his phone beside his pillow and finally closing his eyes.
It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes when he felt the device vibrate noisily by his head.
Blinking awake languidly, he swiveled his neck to glance at the illuminated screen, lips tugging
into a smile when he realized exactly who the culprit was.
Taehyungie: Are you sleeping?
Seokjinnie: I was
Taehyungie: Oh perfect. Don’t!
Seokjinnie: Why are you like this~
Seokjinnie: I’m going back to sleep
Taehyungie: No you’re not
Taehyungie: You’re meeting me outside of the cabin in five minutes >:)
Taehyungie: And I won’t take no for an answer.
Seokjinnie: ...
It was 3:30AM when a shivering Seokjin spotted Taehyung emerging from the shadows, noisily
crossing the campsite, the leaves and sticks on the ground crunching underneath his feet. He was
wearing a different top from earlier, an oversized grey hoodie with sleeves that were far too long
for his arms, the excess fabric swinging about as he walked.
“I hate you,” Seokjin mumbled, the large hood of his own sweatshirt nearly concealing his eyes.
“Love you too,” Taehyung smirked, positively giddy.
“Where are we going,” He asked, allowing the boy to lead them out of the trees, through the
clearing and onto a dirt path.
“The beach, dummy.”
“Why, Tae…” Seokjin whined, turning on his heel as if to make his way back to the cabins.
“HEY!” Taehyung hissed, grabbing the boy’s wrist and dragging him further down the road.
“Don’t make me have to kidnap you.”
“You already kinda are.”
“This is nothing,” he jested, stuffing both of their hands into his hoodie pocket to keep his friend
on lockdown.
The walk to the beach was incredibly brief. A brisk ten minute stroll and they could hear the sound
of the waves crashing on the shore again. Climbing up a small hill they could see the moon now
high in the sky, a matching silver disk balanced on the surface of the sea.
It was the same beach the seven of them had frolicked upon just hours before, and yet in its
abandoned state, in the hush of early dawn, it appeared new and unfamiliar. As if it were showing a
different face, one that had been otherwise concealed.
Seokjin wondered what possessed Taehyung to return here at such an hour; nevertheless he
followed in blind obedience, the boy dragging him along until he found a satisfactory spot in the
sand, the two laying their backs down onto the cold ground.
“Are we just going to sleep?” Seokjin questioned, trying his best to stifle a laugh. As inseparable as
they were, at times Taehyung still remained a bit of an enigma; he could never quite figure out
what kind of thoughts were running through that wild mind of his. And so over the past three years
that they’d been together, Seokjin learned to simply accept and to follow.
“I don’t know,” Taehyung mumbled. “Just like being here, that’s all. One of the guys in my cabin
is snoring super loud. I think it’s Sungjae.”
Seokjin cackled. “Of course it’s Sungjae.”
“Driving me crazy.”
A pleasant silence fell over the two as they lay side by side, nothing but the hum of the ocean, the
September breeze and the pretty white moon to keep them company.
“Cold,” Taehyung finally broke the silence, his voice small and mouse-like.
“Come here.”
Without hesitation he scooted closer to Seokjin until their frames fit together snugly like puzzle
pieces, fitting his head underneath the taller boy’s chin, his cheek squished tightly against his
chest, both hands tucked into the little space between their bodies to retain warmth.
“Better?”
“Mmm.”
It was a curious thing, the sound of Seokjin’s heartbeat. A slow and steady pace at first, yet with
every second growing in speed and intensity until the poor muscle was practically beating like a
war drum. Until every inch of his body was pulsing in the same rhythm. And what an
inconvenience, that Taehyung’s ear happened to be pressed firmly against it.
What is going on with me. The more he tried to control it, the more uncontrollable it became. It
wasn’t long before he could feel his cheeks, even his ears burning too. And suddenly he was no
longer cold; no, it was hot. Far too hot for his liking.
Swallowing down the lump in his throat and tugging on the collar of his sweatshirt, he glanced
down to the boy at his chest only to find said boy with his head tilted upwards, tiger eyes locking
with his own, his heart rate spiking chaotically once again.
“What?” Seokjin cleared his throat.
“Nothing.”
He tried to dwell on useless, senseless things; thoughts of equations, algorithms, theories,

diagrams. Musings of logic and reason. Only after several minutes of meditation could he feel his
pulse slow to normalcy. He blinked his eyes open to a sky full of stars, a heaven of diamonds that
he’d never seen before.
As if reading his mind, Taehyung piped up, “You can see the stars out here. It’s nice.”
Seokjin nodded in agreement. “I forgot they existed.”
A contented silence ensued as the two lay under the magnificent tapestry, eyes flitting from one
constellation to the next. In the most childlike of ways Taehyung untucked one of his hands from
the space between them and draped it across Seokjin’s chest, fingers gently curling around the
fabric of his sweatshirt.
“Are you scared for the future?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.
Seokjin chuckled sadly. “I keep telling myself there’s nothing to be afraid of, but somehow I’m
afraid of everything.”
“Like what?”
“Hm.” A pause. “Actually, I’m not so afraid of failure. That’s one thing that doesn’t worry me too
much.”
“I think you’re the only person I know who feels that way.”
“Well you know why, Tae. My whole life has been mapped out for me. I’ll go to school for
business management, start working at my dad’s company, then slowly take over until I’m in full
control. All I have to do is to do as I’m told.”
“I’m jealous.”
“Don’t be. I also don’t have a choice.”
“True.”
“Anyway. I’m not afraid of failure. But it’s the ‘moving forward’ part that I’m terrified of the
most.”
“Why?”
“When I move forward, what will I be leaving behind?”
“What’re you so sentimental for?”
“You’re the one that brought this topic up,” Seokjin huffed. “I’m just being honest.”
“Okay. Then what are you afraid of leaving behind?”
“Like...hm. Don’t laugh, okay?”
“I won’t.”
“Like school. Tae, you’re laughing.”

“Sorry.”
“Like school. I know we hate it, I know. But I feel somehow that I’ll miss it, looking back?
Walking through those gates every day, dragging myself up those stairs, sitting down at my
desk…”
“And?”
“Basketball. God, how many hours did we waste playing basketball?”
“I have no regrets there,” Taehyung chuckled heartily.
“Even the uniforms. The same old blue blazer and pants every day. We’re never going to be able to
wear that again.”
“You can still wear it to university, Jin.”
The two laughed out loud at the thought of it, Seokjin wandering around his college campus in his
old high school uniform. The mental image of it was simply ridiculous.
“That’s a sure fire way to make a lot of friends, eh?”
“I’ll be the coolest kid on the block,” Seokjin sighed, bringing his hand up to Taehyung’s shoulder,
fingers absentmindedly trailing along the length of his arm.
“What are you going to miss the most?” The boy was looking up at Seokjin again, eyes brimming
with a certain expectation.
“You should know the answer.”
“What if I don’t? Tell me.”

“You guys, of course,” he admitted shyly.
“Yea but like, who the most, out of everyone?”
“I can’t pick and choose.”
Taehyung cut right to the chase. “Mostly me, right?”
Seokjin blinked his eyes open for a moment, long enough to catch Taehyung staring keenly into his
face and licking his lips.
“Sure,” he agreed sheepishly.
It was evident that this answer was not enough. For the next thing he knew he felt Taehyung
adjusting himself until he was practically laying on top of him, the two of them chest to chest, the
boy’s chin resting innocently upon his folded hands.
“Jin.”
“Mm?”
“Have you liked anyone in high school?”
This time Seokjin’s eyes fluttered wide open, frantically finding Taehyung’s in the dark.
“Why...why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
It wasn’t the first time Taehyung had stared at Seokjin like that. The boy’s soft, baby face could
sometimes transform into something else entirely, like a switch had been flipped. He could never
quite decipher the meaning behind it. Does Taehyung realize he’s looking at me like this? Am I the
only one who’s been on the receiving end? He gulped nervously before diverting his focus to the
stars; it was easier that way.
“We go to an all boys’ school, Tae.”
“So you haven’t then.” A hint of frustration in the boy’s voice.
How long can I stare at the sky in silence?
“I never said that,” Seokjin finally whispered.
His heart was off to the races again. And this time there was no use in taking hold of the reins.
“So...so you have?” Taehyung stammered, voice shaking, but gaze never faltering.
Seokjin ignored the question and asked another instead. “Have you?”
“Yes.”
His heart was practically at his throat.
“Who?”
Taehyung also failed to deliver an answer, shifting his body further upwards, closer and closer until
his face was hovering just inches away from Seokjin’s.
“Why is your heart beating so fast,” Taehyung murmured, warm breath tickling his skin.
“I don’t know,” Seokjin responded thickly, his pulse now pounding in his ears.
“Who do you think it is?”
Seokjin swallowed before speaking. “Why don’t you just tell me.”
“Okay.”
The last thing Seokjin remembered seeing before closing his eyes was Taehyung’s grin. And then
it all happened so quickly, like something out of a dream. The softest touch of his best friend’s lips
against his own, warm and gentle and tender, much unlike the chilly September winds that
enveloped them. He was lucky that they were laying down, for he suddenly grew dizzy, faint with
bliss.
He could feel Taehyung trembling; shivering? Was he cold or was he scared, too? He kissed him
once, twice, slow and timid as a moonrise over the sea, pulling away only for a moment to take a
shaky breath before diving back in again, this time deepening the kiss with an almost animalistic
confidence, prompting them both to open their mouths a little wider, to drink the other in.
What hour of dawn it was, Seokjin had no idea. It was as if time had frozen still and the only two
left in the world were himself and Taehyung. And while the night was cold and relentless, their
bodies were on fire. The heat mixed with the smell of the sea and the lingering ash and wood in
their hair, upon their skin, it was all too much to the senses.
He could feel Taehyung growing more passionate by the second, soft tongue entering his mouth to
explore all that he’d been yearning for, a groan sounding from the back of his throat as Seokjin’s
hands snaked tentatively to the small of his back, eventually traveling up and under his sweatshirt,
relishing in the warmth, the smoothness of the boy’s skin. Three years they had known each other.
Three years they had done life side by side. And never had they touched one another; never like
this.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Taehyung was now on top of him entirely, their legs
tangled messily together, chest to chest, the boy’s long fingers desperately cupping Seokjin’s
cheeks, jawline, intertwining into his hair. “Tae,” he gasped in between kisses, causing the boy to
giggle shyly against his lips.
Without warning Taehyung began mouthing at Seokjin’s jawline, trailing slowly down to the nape
of his neck, deciding on one spot in particular before sucking hungrily on his skin, intent on
leaving a mark for the world to see.
He felt as if his whole body would burst into flame. And perhaps it was when his mind started
screaming “FIRE!” that he suddenly came to his senses: I am laying on a beach in the middle of
nowhere, God knows what hour in the morning, making out with my best friend Taehyung.
“Wait.”
It all came to an immediate stop, the feeling of euphoria dying down as Taehyung halted the work
he was doing, slowly lifting his head from the crook of Seokjin’s neck until they were once again
eye-level.
“What?” He asked breathlessly, a look of confusion etched across his face.
Breathe, Jin. Breathe.
Without the courage to look back at Taehyung, he resorted to squeezing his eyes shut instead, the
gears in his mind turning furiously as he felt the boy on top of him slowly press their foreheads
together, waiting. After a silence that dragged out for perhaps far too long, Seokjin released a
quivering sigh before finally speaking.
“What are we doing.”
“What do you mean?” A nervous chuckle.
“We can’t do this,” he whispered, voice catching in his throat as his hand slid limply off of
Taehyung’s back.
“Why not.” It was less of a question and more of a demand.
“Tae.”
Pushing himself up by the elbows, he pried the two of them off of the ground, prompting
Taehyung to slip off rather reluctantly and settle by his side instead. With his legs bent in front of
him, Seokjin propped his arms on top of his knees, burying his face in his hands. Taehyung simply
curled up beside him in an almost fetal-like position, anxiously waiting.
“Why.”
“This isn’t reality, Tae.”
“Yes it is-”
“We’re on a beach. In the middle of nowhere. This isn’t school, this isn’t Seoul. We’re...we’re not
in our right minds.”
“But you are you and I am me,” Taehyung pleaded softly. “Why is it any different here?”
His head felt heavy, like a rag soaked in water. Running his fingers through his messy hair as he
tried to come up with an adequate answer, he could feel his best friend’s gaze boring right through
him and his facade.
It was the sound of a particularly angry wave upon the shore that jolted him awake. Say something
, his mind deplored of him, despite it being resolutely blank.
Lifting his face from his hands, the first thing his eyes landed upon was the restless sea before him,
hint of a sunrise blooming on the distant horizon. The second thing he saw was the face of
Taehyung to his left; brows furrowed, lip bitten. Still waiting.
He was every bit aware of the pained expression he himself was bearing, for it reflected like a
mirror in Taehyung’s sullen disposition. With every ounce of strength his pathetic body could
muster, with cowardice steering a shaky hand to Taehyung’s cheek, he gently cupped the side of
his face, thumb stroking his cheekbone.
“I love you,” Seokjin whispered. “I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Taehyung whispered back, tears brimming in his tired eyes. “But I want you to like me.”
Chapter End Notes
Yes, this is where it begins. It gets heavy.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments, I will always respond and value your
feedback greatly. :)
Part 1 | Year 3
Chapter Notes
The rest of the year (let alone the trip) was awkward. It was assumed by the group that Taehyung
and Seokjin would naturally sit together on the bus out of the campsite, on the airplane back to
Seoul. But instead Taehyung clung to Jimin like velcro, and Seokjin stuck firmly to Jungkook and
Yoongi.
There was no time to rest nor reminisce, for the moment they returned to school they dove right
back into their studies with an intensity like never before. The national exam loomed over them
like a heavy fog, every student suffocated by the weight of it. Only Namjoon felt any semblance of
relief, as he’d chosen to apply exclusively to American universities; all he had to do was wait for
an acceptance. “I’m so nervous,” he’d interject from time to time, earning a flurry of “shut up”s
from the rest of the group.
Everyone knew something was different, that the temperature had shifted. Perhaps the word
“gloomy” didn’t suffice in describing Taehyung’s disposition. He trudged through the halls as if a
raincloud was hanging over his head. Seokjin on the other hand seemed rather unaffected,
continuing about his days as if everything was peachy keen, but his friends knew better; the tension
was thick enough to cut with a knife.
They rarely saw daylight. Perhaps in the morning on their bus rides they’d catch a glimpse of the
sunrise if they weren’t completely conked out. Most stayed inside the school building until the last
bus stopped running, subsequently moving their studies to home and slaving over their textbooks
into dawn.
The two never discussed the events that transpired on that beach in Jeju. It may as well have been a
figment of imagination, a faraway dream. Fiction. While Seokjin tried his best to salvage their
friendship and carry on with their usual rituals, he was often met with a wary response from
Taehyung; a hesitancy, a reluctance that had never existed before. And so they began handling one
another like fine china, as if each was constructed from the most delicate beams. They were afraid
to look at one another. Whereas the two used to share prolonged staring contests out of sheer
boredom, Seokjin now avoided the other’s gaze like the plague, choosing instead to focus on
everything and anything else. His hands, his feet, the pencil twirling between his fingers. One look
into Taehyung’s eyes and he couldn’t bear it.
It was only when Taehyung wasn’t looking that Seokjin would stare unabashedly. Like when the
two sat across the room from one another, when the pale November light trickled in through the
glass and shined a halo around Taehyung’s silhouette. His long lashes, his focused brow, his pretty
lips. He would almost dare himself to keep staring, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his
bones, his heart beating fast at the notion that any moment, Taehyung could turn around and catch
him in the act. But Taehyung never did. He chose to look out of the window instead.
---
Their dinners were usually quiet, uneventful. Seokjin’s father liked to have the television blaring in
the background, cycling through the evening news, then the variety shows, then the korean drama
reruns. He watched it all in numb resolution. Seokjin’s mother was the chattier of the two,
pestering the boy regularly on the state of his studies, on how the rest of the students were faring.
His answers were always the same, yet she always seemed excited to hear them.
Family gatherings were a rarity, with Seokjin pulling late hours at school, then bouncing between
Hagwon and the library on weekends. On the occasion that he would be home for a meal, his
mother would whip up an extravagant feast full of his favorite dishes. “Eomma, this is too much,”
Seokjin would mumble sheepishly. “Nonsense,” his mother would retort.
It was an evening two weeks before the exam when he announced (last minute) that he was leaving
the library early and would in fact make it in time for dinner. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” His
mother sighed as he boarded the bus back to the apartment. “I don’t have time to go grocery
shopping.”
And so the portion prepared for him that evening was rather humble in comparison. A steaming,
bubbling bowl of kimchi jjigae. “I’m sorry, darling,” she cooed as he settled down at the end of the
table. “This is more than enough, mom.”
It was on that particular evening, as Seokjin tiredly slurped his soup, as his father grabbed the
remote to switch channels for the fifth time that his mother asked him an unexpected question.
“Where is Taehyungie these days?”
Seokjin nearly choked on his mouthful of food.
“Why?”
“Oh, just…” She chewed thoughtfully. “It feels like I haven’t seen him in forever, that’s all. He
used to come over every other day.”
“We’re all super busy studying now.”
“Ah. I see.”
“I’m not even doing patrols anymore. The second years took over.”
“That makes sense,” she nodded. “When it’s all over we’ll have him come over for dinner. I’ll
make him his favorite jajangmyeon.”
“Thanks, mom.”
Perhaps it was a good excuse for all traditions to die. No more coffee breaks, no more walks. No
more soccer field rendezvous, no more meeting at the park. Everyone was on a one-track mind.
Seokjin was on autopilot. Taehyung was in another world.
---
For as long as he could remember the day of the exam felt like a national holiday, the entirety of
Korea rallying behind the nation’s third year students. He’d always been a bystander to the
spectacle, marveling at how everything seemed to come to a deafening halt; the whirring of planes,
the honking of horns ceasing to exist. For one day the country fell to a silence. And this time, this
day was for him.
It was an exceptionally cold November morning, brisk and crisp, the air biting to the touch.
Administration opted to turn on the heating, which normally would’ve been a welcomed gesture.
But as beads of sweat trickled down Seokjin’s brow, as he tried to decipher if it was just the
temperature or his anxiety, he found it difficult to focus on the test at hand. The six of them, upon
entering the classroom and taking their usual assigned seats, had barely spoken a word to one
another, the usual banter and squabbles saved for another day. Scattered throughout the room were
several empty seats, one of which belonged to Kim Namjoon. For him, the worst was already over;
he’d been accepted to Duke University and was now waiting to hear back from his dream school,
Yale.
By the time the whole ordeal was over, they streamed out of their classrooms like salmon up a
river, feeling wave after wave of emotion; dazed, confused, relieved. As if they’d been holding
their breath for three years and they could finally breathe again.
“How’d you guys do?” Hoseok asked the group as they descended down the steps of the building,
following the crowd towards the school gates where hundreds of parents stood, necks craned in
search of their child.
“Eh,” Yoongi mumbled, lips barely moving.
“It was hot in that room, wasn’t it?” Jungkook piped up, relishing in the cool night air.
“Yeah. They shouldn’t have turned the heat on,” Seokjin nodded.
“But then we would’ve been freezing. It’s so fucking cold today.”
“True.”
“I feel bad for our parents,” Jimin sighed, as the six boys neared the gates, eyes scanning over the
endless sea of mothers and fathers shivering in their coats and scarves.
“Namjoon said he’d be here too,” Hoseok noted. “Where’s that ass-HA! I found him!”
And sure enough, the lanky boy was lingering a little ways off to the side, his tall frame standing
out easily amongst the shorter silhouettes.
“Hey guys!” Namjoon waved enthusiastically upon spotting his friends.
They trickled out of the gates and beelined for Namjoon, surrounding him in a small huddle,
grateful to be reunited once more.
“How was it?” He asked with genuine concern. Half of the boys; Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung
appeared rather sullen, stressed. The other half; Seokjin, Jimin, and Hoseok seemed to be just glad
that it was over.
“The English portion was fucking hard,” Yoongi complained. “I should’ve gone to Hagwon with
you, damn it.”
“I’m sure you did fine,” Namjoon chuckled weakly. “Oh yeah. I saw some of your parents here.
Jin, Tae...I saw both of your parents, actually. They’re all together, somewhere on the left-”
It wasn’t difficult to spot them. Seokjin’s parents had a way of sticking out like a sore thumb. The
two were always immaculately dressed, even to events as petty as this. He could see his mother
donned in one of her more expensive fur jackets, his father sporting a heavy wool coat and a thick
Burberry scarf to shield him from the wind. And standing right by their side were Taehyung’s
parents; plain and humble in comparison, wearing their usual cheerful smiles, smiles hauntingly
reminiscent of Taehyung’s boxy grin.
“Seokjin-ah!” His mother cried upon spotting him. “Taehyung-ah! Come here!”
In obedience the two boys pushed past the crowds until they reached their parents’ side, rewarded
with a flurry of hugs and kisses to the head and a chorus of “Aigoo”s.
“We’re going out to dinner, all of us,” Seokjin’s mother declared, linking her arm with Taehyung’s
mother.
“No!” Seokjin and Taehyung cried at the same time.
“Why not?” Seokjin’s mother inquired, raising an eyebrow. “This is a cause for celebration. We’ve
already booked a private room at your favorite restaurant, honey.”
“I’m tired-” Seokjin began, only to be cut off by the indignant mothers pushing him towards the
sleek Mercedes sedan resting on the side of the road.
“Nonsense,” the adults clucked, opening the car doors and leaving neither boy any room for
objection.
“Sorry kids,” Seokjin’s father added. “I didn’t realize there were six bodies and five seats.
Taehyung-ah, just sit in Seokjin’s lap. We’ll be fine. Just a ten minute drive.”
“Why didn’t you bring the SUV,” Seokjin seethed, tips of his ears reddening as he stood beside the
open door, unmoving.
“It’s in the repair shop, remember kiddo? Get in.”
It’s just ten minutes. What could go wrong.
He could feel his heart leaping wildly at his throat as he scooted in next to Taehyung’s mother,
who occupied the middle seat and was too busy chatting away with his own mother to her left.
Mere seconds later he could feel Taehyung sliding into the car as well, shifting onto Seokjin’s
thighs and gingerly closing the door behind him.
“Hold onto Taehyung. Don’t let him fall.”
Is this some kind of sick joke.
With a jerk and a screech the car pulled off of the curb and onto the main road, directly into two
lanes of crippling bumper to bumper traffic. Knowing his own father’s driving, it was bound to be
a chaotic ride; they had several cars, yes, but the man hardly drove any of them as he nearly always
utilized a personal driver. But for private family matters such as this, somehow he refused the usual
services and insisted he take the burden upon himself; Seokjin’s worst nightmares realized.
He could hardly breathe, eyes fixed pointedly upon the passing scenery, hands wrapped loosely
around Taehyung’s waist. Taehyung was trying his best not to settle into Seokjin entirely, his
fingers clinging onto the headrest of the passenger seat in front of him. But as the car began to
speed up and the force of gravity came into play, Seokjin could feel his best friend being pushed
tightly against him; skin on skin, chest to back.
He could hear Taehyung’s mother gasp in awe over Seokjin’s mother’s purse. “Is this Chanel?”
She cooed. He craned his neck in curiosity, only to be met by a mop of hair in his face. Lavender ,
he recognized instantaneously, a waft of Taehyung’s shampoo infiltrating his nose. But it wasn’t
just the boy’s scent that invaded every inch of his being. It was the warmth of his body, each little
fidget and shimmy sending shivers down Seokjin’s spine. It’d been so long since the two were in
such close contact, the slightest touch causing every muscle in his body to tighten. As the car flew
over a speedbump and Taehyung’s ass practically bounced against his lap, he knew it was game
over. He was hard.
Despite the fact that the car was currently careening down a highway, he seriously contemplated
the prospect of throwing open the door and jumping out for his own sanity. It was as if the gods
had read his mind, plucked his worst fears out of his head and turned it into reality. Sporting a
massive boner with his parents only an arm’s length away, with the inspiration for said boner
literally squirming in his lap, maneuvering himself further along Seokin’s leg, closer to his knees
as to not sit directly on top of his hardening length.
“Taehyung-ah, sit still!” His mother hissed, pushing her son back. “Stop moving around, it’s
dangerous.”
This has to be a nightmare. I must be dreaming.
The moment the vehicle pulled into the parking lot, an understandably flustered Taehyung kicked
down the side door, barrelling straight towards the restaurant entrance without looking back at the
rest of the party.
“Is he okay?” Seokjin’s mother asked with concern.
“I think he’s tired, that’s all,” Seokjin could only reply weakly, draping his jacket in front of him
and praying for his blood to simmer down.
The party of six followed the hostess to the back of the restaurant and into a private room, the
space tastefully decorated with extravagant table settings awaiting them. To Seokjin such an
ambiance was far too commonplace, but to Taehyung’s family this was extraordinary indeed.
“It’s okay, Taehyung-ah,” his mother shooed him away. “Sit next to your friend. Don’t worry about
your Eomma.”
It was the longest dinner he’d ever endured in his life. Two and a half hours of one course after
another, dazzling entrees and enough side dishes to feed an entire village. And yet as the four
parents jabbered on about work and neighborhood gossip and taking turns sharing embarrassing
stories of their children, their corner of the table remained noticeably silent. Taehyung’s eyes were
mostly glued to his phone, Seokjin’s own attention at refilling the adults’ glasses and making
painful small talk all the while.
“Taehyung-ah, you okay?” His mother questioned once more, just after she’d brawled aggressively
with Seokjin’s father over the bill and of course, lost.
“Just tired, sorry.”
“We’ll go home soon. How was the food?”
“Delicious. Thank you, Mrs. Kim.”
---
By the time their celebrations came to a close night had descended upon the city, small disc of a
moon hanging high in the sky, the rest of the world doused in inky blackness. They could see their
breaths materialize in the air like smoke, curling upwards and dissipating in the cold.
“Eomma, Appa,” Taehyung suddenly piped up before they could all pack into the vehicle once
more. “We’re going to walk back.”
“Nonsense. It’s freezing out. Only a five minute drive-”
“We’re going to stop by the comic book store,” the boy lied through his chattering teeth.
“Oh,” his father shrugged. “You sure?”
“Positive. We’ve been meaning to go for a while, just haven’t had time.”
“Text us if you need anything.”
“Okay.”
There came a sigh of relief the moment the Mercedes disappeared out of the lot, leaving the two
boys standing awkwardly across from one another.
“I think we should talk,” Taehyung spoke firmly.
They stepped off of the restaurant premises and onto the sidewalk, their internal compasses guiding
them down the familiar path home, a thick blanket of dead leaves crunching under their feet. The
air was unbearably tense, awkward. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Seokjin resorted to
tugging on the insides of his coat pockets, waiting with bated breath for what Taehyung was about
to say.
“Hey so-”
“I-”
“You first,” Taehyung prompted.
“Okay,” Seokjin inhaled deeply before clearing his throat. “Tae...listen. What happened back in
Jeju, I should’ve stopped it. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” The boy wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean, sorry?”
“I mean I shouldn’t have let it happen. Neither of us were thinking straight.”
“I was thinking perfectly clear that night.”
“I know it’s been weird, these past couple months,” Seokjin continued, ignoring the fact that
Taehyung’s eyes had widened with indignance. “I’ve hated it. But I didn’t want us to have to stress
about another thing while we were studying. I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier.”
“I bet you weren’t going to say anything. Not until the universe literally threw us on top of each
other like today.”
Seokjin swallowed thickly at the thought of the events that had unfolded earlier, cheeks flushing a
crimson red. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”
“Gotta admit, this is not the conversation I had in mind,” Taehyung sighed, kicking at the foliage
on the ground.
“Then what were you thinking?”
He did not hold back. “Jin, are we just friends to you?”
“Yes,” he replied confidently. To which Taehyung literally flinched, as if his answer physically
stung.
“Really. Just friends. So I’m like Jimin or Yoongi or Jungkook to you. Just buds.”
“Well, okay. It’s a little different.”
“How.”
“I’m closer to you than the rest of them. We’re best friends. So whatever happened, I just want to
save our friendship-”
“You keep saying ‘friends.’ But God, I know that there’s more. You kissed me back that night.
Hard. Speaking of hard, that’s exactly what you were in the car. I’m not an idiot, I could feel it.”
“Tae, I-”
“What? You what?”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin groaned, running a ragged hand through his hair. He hated the traces of
anger in Taehyung’s voice, but he didn’t blame him.
“I feel like you do know. You’re just not being honest with me or yourself.”
A particularly chilly breeze blew past, Seokjin’s shoulders trembling under its spell, Taehyung’s
heart quickly thawing at the sight of him.
Ah.
This must be his first time.
“Then can I be totally honest with you?” Taehyung continued, this time his voice lower and softer,
earning a tentative nod in response. “I like you, Jin. A lot. Not as a friend. Much more than that.
For as long as I can remember.”
The two had wandered into a secluded alleyway that served as a shortcut home, a tunnel of total
darkness save for the distant glow of streetlamps on the other side.
He could see Seokjin chewing furiously on his bottom lip, gears in his mind grinding painfully
together. “I can’t…I can’t say how I feel right now,” he finally mustered.
“That’s okay,” Taehyung urged, as if speaking to a frightened child. “Don’t overthink it. Don’t beat
yourself up.” They paused in their step, Seokjin leaning against the wall with his hands burrowed
into his pockets, gaze downcast.
“This has to be just a phase, right?” He whispered, voice cracking. “I’m-I’m just going through a
phase, I think.” He finally looked up from his feet to lock eyes with the boy standing before him.
“I’m confused. My mind is a mess...I don’t want to drag you into this, I-”
“I don’t think I could ever stop liking you, you know that?” Taehyung confessed with a sad smile.
“You will never be just a phase to me.”
Tae.
“I liked you pretty much since the moment I saw you.”
I think I like you too, Tae.

“So it’s been what, three years?” Taehyung laughed wetly. “Three years of liking you like crazy .
Three years of jumping out of bed in the morning because I couldn’t wait to see you at school.
Three years of waiting for that little text from you during patrols so I could run out of study session
to meet you, even if it was just for a little while. But all that time, not once did I entertain the
possibility of you feeling the same way. I never thought this could happen to me.”
So why can’t I say it out loud?
“But now that we’re here...after everything that’s happened, things I could’ve never dreamed
of...can you at least…I don’t know...” The boy trailed off, taking careful steps closer. “Can you tell
me if there’s even the slightest chance? For us?”
More silence, as rivers of tears streamed down Seokjin’s cheeks.
“Do you want me or not?”
He never answered the question, but he didn’t have to; his eyes were doing all the talking for him.
He knew Taehyung could see it too, the desire woven together with pain, all of it manifesting into
flame, burning him up from the inside. Before he could fathom what was happening, Taehyung’s
shoes were suddenly tip to tip with his own, sweater paws for hands reaching first to Seokjin’s
stomach, then gradually upwards towards his chest, finally coming to a rest against his pounding
heart.
This is how I knew at Jeju.
He continued past Seokjin’s shoulders, fingers eventually snaking around the boy’s neck, bringing
his face down so that their noses were touching.
“There’s no rush. Whenever you’re ready,” he mumbled, warm breaths mingling together before
he tilted his head upwards, meeting Seokjin’s lips with his own.
Taehyung tasted salty and sweet, tears mixing with traces of fizzy soda on his tongue. God knows
how long he’d waited for a moment like this to happen again. He craved it like a madman, like an
alcoholic yearning for liquor. Taehyung was his wine, soft and plush, tender and broken, hungry
and eager. The boy was taking his time, kissing him in an almost lazy manner, as if they had the
rest of their lives to do this.
It was almost Christmas. The lights of the city always went up at the end of November. Any day
now they’d install the giant tree in Seoul Plaza. And just a couple months after that the whole
group would be (depending on acceptances and rejections) going their separate ways. To where
exactly, they hadn’t a clue. Perhaps they had no choice but to pretend that whatever they shared
was infinite.
Why are you being like this to me, Tae? For every time their lips met it became a long, lingering
affair, as if the boy was trying to breathe the two of them into one being. Nothing vulgar or
grotesque, no tongue or groping or touching. Seokjin’s hands remained planted in his pockets,
Taehyung’s cold fingers lightly tracing his locked jaw, thumb occasionally brushing aside the tears
that continued to fall.
“I love you,” Taehyung murmured between the slowest kisses.
“I love you too,” Seokjin replied without hesitation. This much he knew. This much he could say.
They resurfaced from one another, shaky breaths rising like smoke, Taehyung’s eyes of innocence
searching Seokjin’s glassy ones, fingers still stroking his cheekbones, catching whatever remnants
that threatened to escape.
He’s trying to be brave for the both of us.
---
It was an hour later when Seokjin walked through the apartment doorway, both his mother and
father craning their necks from the living room to catch a glimpse of his return.
“Seokjin-ah!” His mother cried affectionately as he trudged into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of
water and chugging voraciously.
“Seokjin-ah, are you okay?”
“Mm.”
“How was the comic book store?”
“Good.”
“Did you buy anything?”
“No, they didn’t have it in stock.”
“I’m sorry, darling.”
“It’s alright.”
“Everything okay with you and Taehyung?”
To which he faked his absolute best smile. “Yes, mom.”
“Did you fight?” She pressed.
He shook his head. “We’re both exhausted.”
But somehow she didn’t buy his excuses. “Brothers fight, Seokjin-ah. You’ll be okay.” His eyes
skirted towards his father, who sat numbly in front of the television, flipping through the late-night
variety shows.
The moment he entered his room he tossed his possessions onto the ground, collapsing upon his
bed fully clothed, eyes sealed shut, willing himself to think of everything, anything except
Taehyung.
It’s all over, he realized. Three long, grueling years of slaving over the books, gone in an instant.
Now all that was left was the waiting game, perhaps more daunting than all three years of studies
combined.
It felt as if the warmth of the room was cradling him, beckoning him into dreamland, yet his
restless mind resisted its enticement. For all he could think of was Kim Taehyung and the events
that had just transpired; the cold night doused in blue, the chill of winter, the warmth of his best
friend’s lips on his own. The moment Taehyung pulled away Seokjin was already hungry for more,
yet the words rolling off his tongue warred against his heart in every which way. “Give me time,
yeah?” He begged. “To figure it out. Let’s stay friends for now. Is that cruel of me to ask?”
To which Taehyung shook his head with a soft smile. “It’s fine. Friends it is.”
As his body sank into the bed, fists clutching onto the pile of blankets beneath him, his mind
danced from one thought to another, thoughts of a certain “friend” consuming him in a way that far
exceeded friendship. The ways his eyes would linger on him, often for a second too long before
he’d look away with a wry smile. His long fingers, how they’d sometimes brush over his own,
feather light and delicate, like sending a secret message. His hair, his soft brown tresses, the
rebellious strands that would fall into his lashline. His surly laugh, his deep chuckle and its gentle
vibrations against his chest. And then the thoughts, as innocent as they had began, quickly spiraled
out of control. The warmth of his touch. Lavender. His arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Kissing him, holding him. Like walking through a field of lavender. His ass in his lap. Body on
body. His lips, the softest, sweetest liquor he had ever tasted. Before he knew it he was unzipping
his fly with haste, stroking his own hardened length, writhing on the bed until he came all over his
own hand, his mind screaming Taehyung’s name, the sound from his lips barely a whisper.
And as he stood in the shower moments later, washing himself clean and allowing the scalding
water to trickle down his skin, the words of his mother echoed endlessly in his head. “Brothers
fight.”
Brothers fight.
Brothers fight.
He couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or to cry.
Chapter End Notes
Please let me know what you think! :)

Part 1 | Year 3
Chapter Notes
Graduation, in Seokjin’s opinion, became a gigantic mountain out of a molehill. His parents made a
great fuss about it, having his uniform dry-cleaned, his hair freshly trimmed for pictures. But
despite his apathy surrounding the event, he had to admit there was something bittersweet about
throwing on the uniform and filing into the auditorium, seeing class after class gathered in the
hallowed hall for one last time. Seokjin watched as Sungjae, Minhyuk, and several other
classmates wiggled past him to their seats, giving him a small pat on the shoulder as they passed.
Will I ever even see these guys again?
Five hundred strong sat in silence as Park Jimin’s petite frame glided across the stage to the
podium, a smile of utter pride and joy spread across his face. With a loud squeak the microphone
kicked to life as he began his speech, voice dripping sweet and slow like honey. The teachers
sitting on the stage behind him looked close to tears, as if it were their very own child graduating.
There would certainly never be another Park Jimin to walk through the school’s halls ever again.
Most of the boys in his row were fast asleep throughout the entire speech. Namjoon and Yoongi
were practically bumping heads every couple seconds. Hoseok looked as if he were trying his best
to stay focused, yet his heavy eyelids kept drooping, chin nodding dangerously downwards.
Seokjin, much to his own surprise, remained wide awake, hanging onto Jimin’s every word.
Jungkook sat to his right, focused intently on the speaker at hand with a goofy smile upon his face.
As much as Jeon Jungkook tormented Park Jimin over the years, the two had become incredibly
fond of one another, inseparable to the point that they ended up applying to all the same schools
and ultimately picked the same one to attend: Hongik University. The duo were the only ones in
their group that would stay together, however, with the rest diverging separate ways. Namjoon
would be traveling the farthest to Yale University in America. The boy fell to his knees when he
received his acceptance letter in the mail.
At least several of them would be together in the same city. Yoongi and Hoseok would attend
Chosun and Chonnam Universities respectively in Gwangju. Seokjin would stay in Seoul alongside
Jungkook and Jimin and enroll in Konkuk University.
But Taehyung; sweet little Taehyung was bound for Daegu’s Kyungpook National University,
about a two hour train ride south of the peninsula. Two hours too far for Seokjin’s liking.
To Jungkook’s right sat Taehyung, jiggling his foot restlessly with his arms folded across his chest.
During the last several months of high school, if Jimin wasn’t present, it was Jungkook who acted
as a buffer between Seokjin and Taehyung. Always sandwiched between the two to lessen the
tension.
He tore his eyes away from Jimin for a moment to peer over Jungkook at a pensive looking
Taehyung. The way his long eyelashes fluttered against the top of his cheek every time he blinked.
How he absentmindedly fidgeted with his fingers, toying with the stacks of small silver rings. How
he’d lick his lips every minute or so, a habit he’d had for as long as Seokjin could remember.
As if reading his thoughts, Taehyung too peeled his attention away from the stage to stare Seokjin
directly in the eye. But neither boy flinched nor looked away that day, choosing instead to lock
themselves in a long gaze. One that was only interrupted by the uproar of clapping and cheering
from all around them.
They shivered in their blazers outside of the school’s tall iron gates, lined up in a row of seven as
their parents yelled at them to move closer for the photograph. The moment the cameras finished
flashing the boys scurried back to their mothers and fathers, hurriedly tossing their winter coats on
over their uniforms.
It was a hilarious affair, to see all seven sets of parents finally mingling. Jimin’s parents were just
as warm and welcoming as the class president himself. Yoongi’s parents, on the complete opposite
spectrum, looked blatantly bored by the fanfare. “I almost fell asleep,” his mother confessed with a
sheepish smile. “I slept through the whole thing,” Yoongi agreed.
The families split up in separate ways to celebrate the rest of the day privately. But at the very end
of it, the boys promised to meet up again, just the seven of them somewhere in the city. Hongdae,
they ultimately decided. The Christmas lights were on full display. It would be foolish to miss it.
They kickstarted the festivities with a four hour karaoke session, followed by a vicious round of
drinks at a korean barbecue joint and capping the night off by wandering down the avenue,
swimming through the gold and silver reflected off of every window, the melodies of street
performers rising like angel song. At four in the morning there were still plenty of hooligans
roaming about, half of which were inebriated much like the seven of them. Perhaps the only sober
ones of the group were Taehyung and Hoseok, rolling their eyes as the rest of their friends clung
onto their shoulders and swayed wildly about. Jimin and Jungkook were belting an old song at the
top of their lungs, their vocal chords begging for mercy as they screamed into the night. Despite
earning looks from irritated bystanders, he relished in the moment anyway, smiling drunkenly as
the familiar tune washed over him like a wave. This feeling of home, the comfort of their
company; he knew that very soon it would all come to an end.
It was nearly five in the morning when they bid goodbye to one another, sloppy hugs and clumsy
kisses on the cheek. “I love you,” Jimin lauded over Jungkook, arm hooked around his best
friend’s neck. “I mmmmluh you doooo,” Jungkook responded with equal enthusiasm.
Most of the boys opted to grab a taxi home, but Seokjin lingered at the bus stop at the end of the
pedestrian street, eyes glazed over with a certain stupor. “I’m gonna-” -hiccup- “Grab the first
bus,” he drawled, pointing at the abandoned station.
“Are you sure?” Hoseok asked worriedly. “I’ll get you a cab, dude. You’re out.”
“No, I WANT to take the bus.”
“You’re going to sleep past your stop, you idiot.”
“No I won’t-”
“I’ll go with him,” Taehyung declared suddenly.
“Are you sure?” Hoseok questioned once more, eyeing the two warily as Seokjin wobbled in his
step.
“Positive,” Taehyung nodded, waving the rest of the boys off. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”
“Okay, okay,” Hoseok sighed with a small smile. “Text the group chat once you guys are back
home.”
“Okay.”
With a light hand on his back, Taehyung guided Seokjin to the bench underneath the awning,
helping the boy to lower himself down onto the cold metal. The two sat side by side with about a
foot or two in between, Seokjin’s head drooping so low his chin nearly touched his chest, the smell
of alcohol swirling around him. Taehyung merely observed in quiet care, watching his best friend
as to make sure he wouldn’t fall over entirely.
It took about half an hour for the first bus of the day to arrive, the sky painted dark blue with a
sliver of deep orange brimming on the horizon. Had they opted for a taxi both of them could’ve
possibly been home already. But for some reason, and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, when
Taehyung saw how badly Seokjin wanted to take public transit, he felt it almost a duty to honor his
wishes.
They boarded onto the empty vehicle, maneuvering down the aisle until they reached the very back
row. Seokjin collapsed into the center seat, head knocking painfully into the headrest behind him.
“Careful, careful,” Taehyung hissed, instinctively placing a hand behind his neck.
“Taehyung-ah,” the boy moaned in response, eyes sealed shut. “Where-where are you?”
“I’m right here, you dummy,” he chuckled, scooting a little closer.
“Ummmph.” Without warning Seokjin began nuzzling his face into Taehyung’s neck, seeking for a
place to rest his head for the remainder of the ride.
“Hold still,” Taehyung sighed, shifting so that Seokjin could use him more comfortably. He could
feel the boy settle against his shoulder, their arms pressed firmly together, his shallow breathing
ghosting his cheek. “Why did you drink so much?” Taehyung whispered, peering into his flushed
face.
The warmth of his breath, the warmth of the bus, everything was warm. The night outside was blue
and sad but the inside of the vehicle was golden. Taehyung stared straight ahead at the reader-
board, tiny letters dancing across the screen, announcing each stop as they careened onward.
“Tae,” Seokjin mumbled, lips dangerously close to his skin.
“Mm?”
“Don’t leave.”
They had paused at a stoplight, the red glare flooding in through the front windows, the engine
purring in anticipation of the next green. Taehyung was suddenly keenly aware of every noise,
every movement.
“Don’t leave where?”
“Don’t go to Daegu.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “I have to.”
“Why so soon,” Seokjin moaned, sending shivers down Taehyung’s spine.
“We still have almost two months.”
“But then you’re leaving.”
“Yes.”
Another low groan from the bottom of his throat, raspy and froggy and laced with distress.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Taehyung asked, small voice barely audible even in the stillness.
“Urghh.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
No response. Within moments the bus jerked forward once more, the engine kicking to a sputter,
Seokjin finally drifting into a deep slumber.
This would be their third Christmas together. Certainly not our last, Taehyung thought to himself
as the bus came to a squeaky halt at their designated stop. With a gentle tug, Taehyung pulled
Seokjin from his seat and dragged him down the narrow aisle, the two descending the steps onto
the curb.
They walked arm in arm towards Seokjin’s apartment, their path lit by tall, handsome lampposts.
The air surrounding them was still chilly, yes, but there was a leniency to it, a certain warmth
characteristic of that right before snowfall. I wonder if we’ll experience first snow together, he
mused as they rounded the corner to Seokjin’s complex.
But the first snow never came that night. It wouldn’t snow that winter until late February, two days
after Taehyung would take the train to Daegu. But he didn’t know that, so he remained foolishly
optimistic, standing across the intoxicated boy with a look of unbridled hope in his eyes.
“Merry Christmas, Jin.”
“Mmmurr Chrismm.”
---
Taehyung boarded a train from Seoul to Daegu two months later.
He was the first of the gang to leave, the rest of the group either remaining in Seoul or departing
shortly after. Hence the other six decided to send him off together, the boys standing alongside
Taehyung’s family, shivering in their winter coats.
Seokjin watched with bittersweet fondness as Taehyung’s younger siblings took turns enveloping
their brother in big bear hugs.
“I’ll visit you, hyung,” Jeonggyu promised, nibbling on his lower lip as to hold back impending
tears.
“Aish,” Taehyung cooed affectionately, pinching his brother’s cheeks. “You have to focus on
studying. Then maybe you can join me in a couple years in Daegu, okay?”
“What about me, oppa?” His little sister whined, shamelessly vying for his attention.
“You still have a long way to go baby,” Taehyung teased.
“Stop teasing her, Taehyung-ah. She might actually cry,” his mother whispered.
“I’ll be back soon, Eonjin-ah. Before you even know it.”
Seokjin had seen Taehyung messing around with his younger siblings on countless occasions prior
and had thought nothing of it, but this time everything felt different; a tightness forming in his
throat at the sight of his best friend holding both siblings on either arm, stroking the backs of their
heads and making rosy promises.
He was really leaving.
He continued to watch numbly as Taehyung took turns bidding goodbye to their friends. An odd
handshake for Jungkook, a slap on the ass for Yoongi, big hugs for Namjoon and Hoseok, an even
bigger bear hug for his best friend Jimin. He knew Taehyung would save him for last; both an
honor and a burden he was frightened to bear, particularly in front of so many eyes.
So perhaps it was a relief when he nonchalantly walked to Seokjin’s side, placing a guiding hand
on his elbow to lead him away from the rest of the group.
In the pale light of morning Taehyung’s dark brown eyes looked like pools of gold, tiger-like. It
sounded silly, for Seokjin to try and memorize every inch of the boy standing in front of him, as if
they’d never see one another again. But as the passerbys on the platform streamed steadily onto the
train, as the chatter around them rose and fell like the tide, Seokjin was scared out of his mind.
Scared to say goodbye to a person who had become like another limb. How could he live without
an arm, a leg? The very blood that ran through his veins?
“I’m going to miss you, weirdo,” Seokjin confessed, voice calm but laced with a sense of urgency.
Wordlessly Taehyung took one step forward, then another, eventually burying his face into
Seokjin’s shoulder, resting there for a moment before craning upwards towards his very red ear, as
if to lean in and whisper. But instead he placed a soft kiss on the boy’s temple, a tender peck
disguised as an exchange of secrets.
“I’ll miss you more.”
There came the last screech of the train whistle, signaling that there was no more time left to spare .
Everything that ensued was a wild blur. From the distance his family and friends waved frantically,
beckoning for the boy to hurry back and board the train. “I’m coming!” He bellowed as the two
rushed to rejoin the group, Taehyung swiping his giant suitcases and giving a final flurry of hugs
and kisses. The next thing Seokjin knew the boy rushed past the conductor and into his car,
settling his luggage down with haste before plastering himself to the moving window, a sad smile
lingering upon his lips, eyes locked on the image of Kim Seokjin growing smaller and smaller until
he disappeared entirely from sight.
Chapter End Notes
This is the LAST chapter of "Part 1." My next update will be entering into "Part 2"
which is a MUCH longer phase of this story, their time in college. This is where the
growing pains really happen.
Anyway, thank you for the lovely comments. Reading them really makes me happy
and motivates me to keep going. If there's one bit in particular that sticks out to you,
feel free to even copy and paste that section when you're giving feedback, I'm always
curious as to which parts speak to readers the most.
Part 2 | Freshman Year: Like cherry blossoms scattered in the wind
Chapter Notes
Here we go. Kicking off part 2, college. Like I said previously this part is the meat of
the sandwich and therefore quite lengthy. Please enjoy!
❀ II. LIKE CHERRY BLOSSOMS SCATTERED IN THE WIND
February: Freshman Year
Seokjin had three roommates. Taejoon, Minho, and Sungmin.
Taejoon was a Grade A toolbag, a cocky chain-smoking club-going rat of a human who somehow
managed to lock down a girlfriend despite all of this, which meant if he was ever back in the dorm
he was bound to be yammering on the phone in his nauseating baby voice. Seokjin quickly learned
to tune him out.
Minho was the polar opposite of Taejoon. Quiet, reserved, mouse-like. Almost afraid to leave the
room aside from attending classes, which he rarely did. At face value one would assume that he
was the studious type, occupying his desk late into the night. But it didn’t take long to discover that
really, the boy was busy with either two things; anime or porn, or a combination of both.
And the last of the bunch, Sungmin. Sungmin was the only “normal” roommate, one that could
hold a decent conversation, who seemed to have a solid group of friends outside of the dorm. Who
seemed to enjoy watching One Piece just as much as Seokjin did. The two often shared meals or
walked to lectures together, but that was the extent of their friendship.
It would’ve been a lie if Seokjin said he didn’t miss his friends from high school. The idiotic
simplicity in which they lived their lives. He knew that there existed a certain level of prestige to
Konkuk, but he wasn’t prepared for the way everyone seemed to be trotting on top of their high
horses. It was suffocating.
There was a small man-made lake in the middle of campus that served as a much needed refuge, its
placid surface often reflecting the wintry sky. Hundreds of cherry trees and their barren branches
surrounded the perimeter of said lake. But sitting on a wooden bench overlooking the water, he
could imagine what the place would look like in the spring. In the summer. When everything
would come back to life.
For the first time in three years, the seven of them were no longer together every single day. The
reality of their circumstance didn’t sink in until the very last ones left Seoul for Gwangju; Hoseok
and Yoongi. They took the train together on the same afternoon, Hoseok rather composed but
Yoongi an emotional mess. “I’m going to miss you guys,” Hoseok had chirped, dishing out big
bear hugs while Yoongi stood quietly behind him, blinking back tears.
“You big baby,” Seokjin teased Yoongi. “I’ll visit you. We’ll visit you guys as soon as we can.”
Namjoon’s case was undoubtedly the toughest, being oceans away in a timezone literally night and
day to theirs. His first semester didn’t technically begin until the end of August, but he’d departed
for the states early to attend a specialized English language academy. Just so he was at the top of
his game once school really began.
At the very least, Jungkook and Jimin were still in the same city. It was no surprise to Seokjin that
the first time he visited the duo on Hongik campus, they were: one, attached at the hip and two,
well endowed with friends. Jungkook had a tendency to be shy and wary when meeting new
people, but with Jimin’s help the boy’s true colors quickly showed through, attracting a whole lot
of like-minded loons.
And then there was Taehyung. Taehyung all alone in Daegu.
The group chat became instrumental to their survival, the boys messaging each other aggressively,
sharing nonsensical findings on the internet, interesting articles, pictures of their day to day.
Namjoon often had to play catch up, reading through the slews of bullshit he missed before gearing
up to respond. The moment the other boys saw Namjoon typing they’d go into a frenzy. It wasn’t
easy, to be awake at the same time.
University, they quickly discovered, was nothing like high school; more like a long-awaited
vacation. “The fuck we study so hard for?” Jungkook complained. Gone were the days of waking
up in a cold sweat, of secretly weeping in the bathroom, of Hagwon on weekends, of camping out
in the library from sun-up till sun-down. The world was now their oyster.
The gamers of the group: Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung played more in the first two months of
college than their entire three years of high school. Far too frequently they’d stay up past the wee
hours of dawn, only going to bed when the birds began to wake in the morning.
Jungkook was usually the first to sign off. “I’ll talk to you losers tomorrow.” And their colorful
screens would secede to black, the noise to silence. “Talk on the phone?” Taehyung would suggest
to Seokjin. To which the boy nearly always said, “yes.”
Seokjin never stayed in his room during these phone calls. If the weather outside was too
formidable he’d excuse himself to the stairwell, sit on the bottom step and speak soft and slow,
occasionally giving a nod to random passerbys exiting the dorm. The other boys in the building
were used to it now; the sight of him swallowed in his sweats, head propped against the handrails.
It was close to midnight on March 13th when Taehyung reached out via text, asking if the two
could chat on the phone the next evening. His request was met with a bit of suspicion; they never
scheduled their calls in advance. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?” Seokjin prodded.
“I want to play League,” Taehyung lied. “Should we invite Jungkook?” Seokjin asked, to which
Taehyung quickly rejected the idea. “No. He’s got plans with Jimin.”
And so on the next evening, 8:00PM on March 14th, Seokjin and Taehyung linked up once more
to play their beloved game. Taejoon and Sungmin were both absent from the dorm, most likely out
on dates. Only little Minho remained in the room, a pair of giant headphones resting over his ears,
the sound of his keyboard clicking in rhythm with Seokjin’s.
Hardly an hour had passed when Taehyung cut it short. “I’m bored. Wanna talk on the phone?”
It was the first nice day of spring, the typically bitter winds having died down to complacency. He
pulled on a thin jacket, wiggled into some sneakers, then slipped out of the building to take a walk
around campus.
There were plenty of students still roaming about the tree-lined paths of Konkuk. His feet moved in
accordance to muscle memory; one in front of the other in the direction of his beloved lake, all the
while with Taehyung’s voice humming close to his ear, the boy rambling on about nothing
especially important. Nothing that would merit a pre-planned call like this. “I swear, I flunked that
math exam today. I really shouldn’t have gone to karaoke last night.” Seokjin laughed softly as he
ambled past couple after couple, past lovers and their bouquets, all the while keenly aware of the
empty set of footsteps beside him.
The lakeside boasted even more lovebirds than the rest of campus. He should’ve expected as
much, being that it was White Day, but there was no where else he could think of going. Every
several feet or so he would spot a couple kissing quietly beneath the camphor trees, another pair
posing for photographs, others simply holding hands and taking slow steps around the water.
Am I really the only one by myself right now?
Shivering as he lowered himself onto his favorite bench, he opted to look upwards and outwards
instead; up at the starless sky, blanketed with clouds. Out onto the surface of the lake, glassy and
smooth and black like stone.
“Where are you?” Taehyung asked, picking up on the faint voices in the background.
“I’m by the lake.”
“Ah, of course. Where else would you be?”
“And you?”
“In bed,” the boy replied matter-of-factly.
Unlike Seokjin, Taehyung never left the room during their talks, preferring to burrow himself
underneath the covers and use his phone as a pillow. His roommates were used to it, he claimed.
Seokjin often imagined the boy curled up in his blanket, almost asking to be cuddled, his own
heart twisting into knots at the mental image.
“I miss you.” The words rolled off of his tongue just as quickly as he realized his mistake. “I miss
everyone,” he corrected.
A long pause. “Same.”
“Tae, did you know it’s White Day today?” He chuckled awkwardly. “So many couples around me
right now.” His eyes followed a girlfriend and boyfriend strolling hand in hand with matching
outfits.
“I know,” Taehyung sighed. “Two of my roommates are on dates tonight.”
“Must be nice, huh?”
“Must be.”
Seokjin couldn’t help it. He was weak.
“Did you um...did you have plans tonight, Tae?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, I see. What kind of plans?”
“With you, Jin. What else would I be doing?”
“Ah.”
“There’s no one else I’d rather be with. You know that. I’m happy.”
A sharp intake of breath as he tried to still his pounding heart.
Somehow the night was less lonely and all the more beautiful.
---
Yoongi and Hoseok were the first ones to return to Seoul.
The Wednesday prior to their visit, Yoongi had casually messaged the group chat, asking what
everyone’s plans were for the weekend. “Nothing,” the Seoul crew responded. “Just gonna hang
out at Hongik.”
So when the Gwangju duo showed up on Hongik campus that Saturday morning, naturally the
other boys went ballistic.
For a moment with the five of them reunited, it almost felt complete. The laughter was louder, the
jokes rowdier. But to Seokjin it was glaringly obvious that two were missing; one inevitably being
Namjoon halfway across the world, but the other being a very important Kim Taehyung.
“Did you guys invite Tae too or no?” He asked tentatively once the chaos died down.
“We did, we tried. But he’s got a friend’s birthday this weekend, couldn’t make it.”
Then why couldn’t you guys wait one more weekend?
He hated the bitterness bubbling to the surface. I should be grateful. His eyes flitted between a
cackling Hoseok and a beaming Yoongi. What’s wrong with me? So he pushed down the unhappy
feeling and chose to focus on the bright side instead.
They spent all of Saturday doing the things they loved the most; basketball, computer games, with
a bit of naptime sprinkled in between. Their interests remained exceedingly simple, childish
passions they perhaps could never outgrow.
Come dinner time they considered eating at the school canteen to save money, but Jungkook
vehemently rejected the proposition, declaring that such an occasion called for a proper feast of
lamb skewers and soju. Out of the five boys, four of them were heavy drinkers. Poor Hoseok
flushed cherry the moment he touched liquor. So as they clinked glasses for what felt like the
hundredth time that night, Hoseok let out an audible groan, running a hand through his frazzled
hair yet still downing the shot in one go.
“That’s the spirit, Hobi.”
“No more after this,” he begged. “Spare me.”

“Yoongi, do you guys not go out in Gwangju?”
“We actually don’t see each other that much,” he mumbled, tearing a chunk of meat off the skewer
with his teeth.
“Yeah, just weekends,” Hoseok agreed. “Weekdays are tough.”
“Hobi joined a dance team and he forgot about me.”
“As IF. Someone’s forgetting about the time I skipped practice because SOMEONE was sick-”
“Guys, stop bickering,” Jimin giggled, eyes forming into small crescent moons.
“Whatever. Ungrateful brat. What about you guys? Well I know you two are attached at the hip,
must be nice. But Jin, I feel like you visit them a lot too, no?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin drawled, pouring himself another shot. “They always make me go to them,
bastards.”
“Just transfer to Hongik!” said Jimin and Jungkook in unison.
“God, you two are really molding into one.”
The drinks continued to flow long after the food was consumed. After every emptied bottle
Jungkook would swivel around in his seat, flag down a waiter, and ask for another. Eventually
even those of the strongest will were glowing rosy pink from the alcohol, Jimin dangling his arm
around Hoseok’s neck and hiccuping between every other word. The chatter of the restaurant, the
rich scent of meat, the upbeat music in the background. The mood was good.
“It’s been a couple months now. Anyone on campus catch your eye?” Hoseok asked as he patted a
clingy Jimin on the back.
“Nah,” Jungkook shook his head, fingers toying with his empty glass. “Too busy-”
“-With your head up Jimin’s ass,” Seokjin cut in, earning a hearty round of laughs from the table.
“You’re annoying.”
“It’s true.”
“But really,” Jungkook continued, a bit embarrassed. “I could care less about dating right now. It’s
too early to settle down.”
“He’s popular with the ladies though!” Jimin pointed accusingly at his friend. “You should see the
way they stare at him when he walks by!”
“Yeah, whatever. They’re probably staring at your big old head instead,” Jungkook expertly
deflected. “Anyway, if any one of us is popular with the ladies it’s Jin here, you kidding? Have you
seen him? An actual greek god?” Seokjin pounded down another shot. “Look at him in that jacket,
handsome devil. Anyone send you flowers on White Day this year? Remember what happened our
first year in high school?” The other boys nodded excitedly. “What’d you do with all those flowers,
anyway?”
“Gave them all to my mom,” he answered. A white lie. He gave his mother all but one rose, the
one with the cryptic message of “I’m right next to you,” tied to its stem. He couldn’t pinpoint why
he felt a certain affinity to it. He kept the flower even after it dried up to a despondent yellow.
He glanced up from his drink to find Park Jimin staring in his direction, a strange look of knowing
that made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He had to avert his gaze elsewhere, quickly.
The atmosphere was blissful; warm, like what home should feel like. In his slight inebriation he
realized just how much he’d missed the two Gwangju boys. Yoongi and the way he slurred all his
words together if he was passionate about something. The sheer volume of Hoseok’s laugh, how
with every burst it would turn heads from tables in their vicinity. Even Jungkook and Jimin, the
pair already wild enough on their own, seemed far more chaotic than usual.
It was as they settled the check that Yoongi proposed a last minute trip to Namsan Tower.
“Namsan Tower?” Jungkook raised his eyebrow incredulously, stifling a laugh.
“I’m SERIOUS,” Yoongi insisted, his voice cracking. “I want to see the view. It’s been so long
since I’ve seen Seoul.”
He was right in saying that it had been a while. In fact, none of them could remember the last time
they’d gone to Namsan. Perhaps sometime in middle school on a class trip; other than that or to
give tours to out-of-town guests, there was no reason to go there. But Yoongi seemed to be
particularly adamant about it, and the rest of the group was too tipsy to object. Half an hour later
they’d traversed cross-town via taxi, taking the cable car up to the very top of the hill, the air at
such heights nipping at their skin as they braved the chilly night views.
“I miss Seoul!” Yoongi bellowed, waddling up to the railing and looking out onto a dazzling
display of city lights.
“You okay there buddy?” Hoseok teased, trailing closely behind his friend. “You gonna cry?”
Seokjin listened to the two bickering back and forth before wandering off to a quieter corner, away
from the students and couples and tourists, a tiny alcove where the view wasn’t so great and the
only sound to be heard was the whistling of the wind past his ears. Nevertheless he fixed his eyes
on what he could see of the skyline, digging his hands deep into his pockets and wishing
desperately for a pair of earmuffs.
“What’re you thinking about over here, you mysterious guy, you?”
A gentle, familiar voice interrupted his train of thought, prompting him to tear his eyes away from
the scenery to a cheerful Jimin by his side.
“Oh, Minnie. Nothing really. Great view, huh?”
They could hear the sound of Jungkook and Hoseok guffawing in the distance.
“I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much, but you seem a bit down.”
“It’s the alcohol. Messes with my head.”
“Yeah, okay. But I know you. Every time you drink...when you’re happy you get happier. When
you’re sad you get even sadder.’
Seokjin gulped. “I miss Namjoon.”
Jimin nodded. “Me too. I just sent him a picture. He should be waking up soon.”
“Mhmm.”
A nod, a bit of silence.
“And Taehyung too, right?” Jimin piped up, breaking the stillness.
He couldn’t help but flinch at the name, yet he quickly regathered his composure and offered
another small nod.
“You miss him?” Jimin pressed.
“Yes.”
“You miss him the most.”
He didn’t know how to respond, his breath catching at his throat, words coming to a halt at his
parted lips. Jimin had spoken so matter-of-factly, poker-faced, fixated on the cityscape before
finally turning to meet Seokjin’s widened eyes. Again with the look of knowing. Of knowing more
than he should.
“It’s getting late,” he patted Seokjin on the shoulder. “We should head down soon.”
Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes
Thoughts? :D
Some of you left comments quoting which parts you enjoyed the most last chapter,
please continue to do so if you'd like. It's super encouraging to me and I love seeing
what stood out to each reader.
Much love and gratitude for those keeping up with this story.
Part 2 | Freshman Year
Chapter Notes
Thank you everyone for your patience! Enjoy!
Seokjin had the luxury of living close to home, whereas many of his friends couldn’t say the same.
Sungmin often grumbled over meals about how much he missed his mother’s cooking back in
Ilsan. Namjoon admitted he’d cried himself to sleep a couple times in America. So while family
time could be a bit suffocating in the Kim household, he made sure to pay a visit at least once a
month, even if just for appearances. And with his older brother finally finished with school and
living at home again, his presence became a welcomed relief.
Seokjung didn’t quite fit the mold of “hyung.” Even when they were children, the elder had always
been a bit of a lone wolf; cold, aloof, intimidating. Seokjin was the exact opposite; gentle, rosy,
lovely, pleasant. Although their parents never explicitly expressed it, both brothers were certain that
they took a much stronger liking to the younger. Neither were okay with it.
It was the tail-end of March when he decided to drop by for a quick dinner. “I’m back!” He
announced as he stepped through the front door into the foyer, a thick cloud of home-cooking
wafting through the apartment. He spotted his father lounging quietly on the sectional, reading
something on his tablet with a furrowed brow. Seokjung was nowhere to be seen.
“Seokjin-ah!” His mother cooed as he padded towards the dining room table, the sprawling feast
upon it coming into view.
“Why’d you cook this much Eomma?”
She ignored his question, giving him an affectionate squeeze on the cheek and a pat on the bum
before sending him to fetch his brother from his room.
His door was always closed, always locked. “Hyung,” he called, following up with a couple light
knocks. “Dinner’s ready.” He received a grunt of acknowledgement in response.
Perhaps it was the lighting and the way it cast harsh lines across their faces, but once the four of
them sat down for dinner it was actually heartbreaking to look across at them. Even in the span of
two weeks it seemed that his parents had aged considerably. Did his father always have that many
grey hairs? And was it just his imagination or did the wrinkles at the corners of his mother’s eyes
deepen as well?
She always said her wrinkles came from smiling. From smiling too much because she was so proud
of him, so proud of the man he’d become.
They were good parents. Seokjung grumbled a bit more about their shortcomings than Seokjin did,
but the elder had every right to feel bitter. They were strict, yes. Traditional, yes. Perhaps too rigid
in their ideals. But he wanted desperately to focus on their strong points; their father, despite his
frequent absence due to work obligations, tried his best to maintain a sense of normalcy when he
was home. His mother had a tendency to get overly involved in other people’s matters, but it was
always out of the goodness of her heart. Did you eat yet? Are you sleeping well? How are your
friends doing?
They just want the best for me. That’s all.
He convinced himself he didn’t mind the two of them dictating every aspect of his life. They’re
much older and wiser, he reasoned. What do I know? But from the moment he kicked off his first
semester at Konkuk, a new topic of conversation was suddenly brought to the table, one that
Seokjin sincerely wished was off limits: dating.
They’d done this for years to his hyung and knew that it was simply a matter of time before it was
his turn. He’d lost count, the number of instances he’d come home after school to find a random
girl seated on their couch, hands folded neatly in her lap as their mothers chatted cheerfully and a
disgruntled Seokjung simmered in silence on the side. But his hyung never listened to their parents
anyway, being stubborn and rebellious to a fault. Hence why they gave up on him so easily.
Seokjin had a feeling he wouldn’t get so lucky.
“Honey, any news on the dating front?” His mother teased with a coy smile on her face.
Ridiculous, how in high school they’d mandated that relationships were completely, absolutely off-
limits, out of the question. (Sending him to an all boys’ school was a way to guarantee as such - the
irony. ) Yet the moment he entered university he was expected to be arm in arm with a girl. He
couldn’t fathom their logic.
“School’s kinda busy,” he chuckled, stuffing his mouth with food as quickly as possible.
“Ah, our hard working son,” she cooed. “Do you want us to help, then? Set something up for you?”
“NO,” Seokjin yelled, nearly choking on a piece of meat. The corners of his brother’s lips tugged
upwards ever so slightly.
“Are you interested in someone already?”
“No. It’s only two months in,” he dodged the question.
“Have you been interested in anyone before?” His father interjected.
He felt his muscles tense into a spasm, felt a slight ringing in his ears before he answered honestly,
“Yes.”
“REALLY?” His mother gasped, possessed by a look of glee. “What was she like? Is she pretty?
Did we know her?”
He swallowed thickly before speaking. “It’s in the past. I’d rather not talk about it.”
---
By mid spring Jimin had developed an unhealthy obsession with polaroids. He brought the camera
with him everywhere, along with packets of differently patterned film, always at the ready in case
the occasion called for it.
But to Jimin, everything was an occasion. Walking to classes. Studying at the library. Eating out
with friends. Click, click, click.
So when Jimin texted Seokjin and asked if he wanted to look at cherry blossoms together, he knew
their outing would manifest into an entire photoshoot.
It was a rare case where it was just the two of them: Seokjin and Jimin, sans Jungkook, the latter in
Busan celebrating his grandmother’s birthday. While it certainly felt odd to have one person
missing, it was also a rather refreshing change in dynamic. Whereas the three of them together was
equivalent to three simultaneously-occurring natural disasters, Seokjin and Jimin on their own were
actually quite calm and collected. There existed a strange sense of contentment between them, as if
the usual screaming and hollering was no longer necessary and inside voices were just fine.
Jimin took the train over from Hongik, arriving at Konkuk’s campus just before noon. The two
scarfed down a simple meal at the dining hall before making their way to the lake.
None of the flowering trees were in full bloom yet, just shy, tiny pink buds. The weather was mild
enough so that a winter coat was no longer necessary. Jimin sported a handsome leather jacket,
Seokjin an oversized hoodie. “Why didn’t you dress up more?” Jimin whined, picking dust bunnies
off of Seokjin’s sleeve. “You knew I was gonna take pictures today.”
“I’m going for a natural look.”
They began their walk around the perimeter of the water, relishing in the warmth of the sun and the
blue of the sky. Every couple steps Jimin would pause to snap a photo of an appealing branch or
make Seokjin pose as his grumpy model.
“Still so handsome,” Jimin giggled, tearing the polaroid away from the camera and stuffing it into
his pocket.
“The power of my visuals.”
He liked the sound of Jimin’s laugh. Like a melody, a song he could play on repeat for hours on
end. Every time he told a joke, no matter how corny it could be, Jimin would react the same way;
crinkled eyes, a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He really was the perfect friend.
“God, I love this place,” Jimin mumbled, lowering his camera for a moment to admire the
glittering expanse before them.
“I come here too much,” Seokjin admitted, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. “There’s a nicer
lake in Daegu, actually.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Not really near Tae’s campus but still worth a visit. Maybe we should all go and check it out
soon? Me, you, Jungkook-”
“HA! No thanks.”
Seokjin turned to his friend in surprise. “What do you mean, no thanks?”
Jimin shook his head. “Don’t wanna go with you.”
“What are you saying, Min? Tae’s there, he’s your best friend! And he misses everyone like
crazy…”
“No. No, no, no, no-”
“Why? I’m genuinely confused.”
“Aish,” Jimin finally sighed, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “YOU should go, Jin.”
“I will , I’m just asking you to come with me.”
“ALONE.”
“Huh?”
“Just you, Jin. Go see Tae.”
A cluster of sparrows swooped over the lake’s surface in that moment, prompting Jimin to whip
out his camera and focus the lens on his new subjects. “Shit. They’re flying too fast,” he scowled,
the shutter clicking frantically with each attempt.
He licked his lips carefully, waiting for his friend to say more, but the boy seemed to be too
engrossed in his photography to elaborate. So he took it upon himself to break the silence instead.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I feel like you two should just be together.”
He was now covered in a cold sweat.
“Jin, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Hello? You there?”
Silence.
“Hey, don’t freak out,” Jimin mumbled, rubbing his arm up and down reassuringly. “Tae never
brought it up to me. I was the one who guessed it first. Long time ago.”
“Huh?”
“Like ages ago, Jin. Listen. I’ve known Tae since grade school. I know him like the back of my
freaking hand. Heck, I might know him better than myself. Even when we were kids I knew he
was different. He officially came out to me in middle school. I had to act surprised. He’s always
been open about it since...not that he’s broadcasting it to the world, more like if you ask him he’ll
tell you. Anyway, the second we got to high school and the moment he laid eyes on you in class, I
just knew. I knew that he’d made up his mind that you were the one. That’s why he was so shy in
the beginning, not sure if you noticed.”
“I definitely did. I thought he hated me.”
“He doesn’t have an ounce of hatred in his bones, that kid,” Jimin chuckled.
“I know that now.”
“But anyway, for you? For you I couldn’t tell at first. It was really hard. Took a couple years for
me to figure it out. It wasn’t until our third year when I was sure that it was mutual.”
“How?”
“Jin, you know how many times I caught you staring at Tae from across the room? Remember
how I sat right in front of him? You’d stare and stare and stare and sometimes I’d do a small wave
or something to try and catch your attention, but you never even saw me. You could only see him.”
“Did...did you and Tae ever talk about it?”
“I mean he’s my best friend, so kind of?” He absentmindedly kicked a pebble into the water, the
two watching as it skipped twice then sunk to the bottom. “Well from day one he told me that he
had a giant crush on you, and I told him to slow down because my God, I’d never seen him like
that before. It scared me. So for the first couple years I just listened to him gush over you.”
Oh.
“But then there was a turning point, and I don’t think it was just me...I think the rest of the group
felt it, too. After the Jeju trip. Something was off. I didn’t want to pry. I think the other guys
thought you guys got in a big fight or something and figured you two would make up eventually.
But I knew that wasn’t the case because neither of you were angry, just really sad. So I pulled Tae
to the side one day, right after the exam and I asked him what was going on...and he bawled, Jin.
He broke down sobbing.”
There came a sharp pang of guilt with every word coming out of Jimin’s mouth.
“He didn’t need to tell me much. I’d already figured out what happened. All he said was something
along the lines of, ‘He says he doesn’t want me, but I feel like he does.’”
He paused in his speech, glancing tentatively at Seokjin’s solemn expression.

“Don’t worry. He hasn’t said anything to anyone else. And I won’t either, not even to Jungkook.
Don’t worry.”
“No, no,” he mumbled. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I feel terrible.”
They stopped to let a couple of students ride past on their bicycles, their laughter quickly swelling
then subsiding.
“Can I ask something then, Jin?”
“Sure.”
“ Do you want him?”
He suddenly felt the urge to run. Anywhere. Run straight into the lake if could.
“It’s not that simple, Jimin. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“That’s okay. You don’t need to explain anything. I know it’s not easy. Especially for you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. You’ve got a lot at stake.”
And then he suddenly felt the urge to cry.

“I feel like I’m paralyzed,” Jin whispered, his throat growing tight.
“Yeah,” Jimin responded weakly. “You’re scared. I hate that you’re scared. I wish you didn’t have
to be.”
“Mm.”
“Even so,” Jimin smiled. “Go to Daegu and see him.”
Seokjin shook his head fervently. “No. You know that would complicate things. So much.”
“Life’s already complicated, Jin. You’re both so miserable apart as it is. At least be happy
together.”
---
They’d lost track of time again, as they always did on these late night phone calls. Taehyung lay
buried under his covers, whilst Seokjin planted himself on the concrete steps of his dormitory,
smack under the lamplight and adjacent to the cherry trees. He’d thrown on one of his baggy
sweatshirts before stepping outside, the hood shielding nearly half of his face, spring wind blowing
petals across his sandaled feet.
He could tell from the way Taehyung was talking that he was exhausted to the bone, words
slurring together until they were no longer comprehendable. But nevertheless Seokjin kept the
phone close to his ear, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to the boy on the other line
ramble on about nonsense.
“We have the windows open,” Taehyung mumbled, deep and groggy, words drawn out long and
slow. “I can feel the breezeee. S’nice.”
“Yeah. I’m sitting outside now. I could get used to this.”
“What’re you seeing right now?”

“I’m the only one awake, it seems,” Seokjin chuckled. Not another soul in sight. “Sitting on the
steps of my building. Lots of cherry blossoms.”
“Thatssssounds so nice.”
“You’re sleepy, aren’t you?”
A heavy sigh, followed by a groan, then a long silence.
“I know I shouldn’t be sssaying thisss Jin.”
“Hmm?”
“I know we...we made that rule.”
Ah. The rule. The rule that they’d unanimously agreed upon to remain as friends, to not cross the
line again no matter how badly they wanted to, not until Seokjin figured his shit out. But it was a
funny thing, that damned line, for they were always dancing around it. Seemed like that night
Taehyung wanted to take a step over it entirely.
“We made that rule but ah. Fuck, I miss you so much.” The words escaped his lips as almost a
whine. Perhaps he heard his own voice out loud, prompting the boy to laugh at himself. “Is it bad I
wishhhyou were here withhme right now? Right by my side?”
Seokjin whispered almost inaudibly, “I wish I was too.”
“I can’t-I can’t remember the lassss time I saw your handsome face. God, I’m forgetting what you
look like.”
“We FaceTime a lot, Tae.”

“You know what I mean, issss different.”
“I know.
“I want to hold you ssooo bad. Y’know?”
“I miss you too,” Seokjin affirmed. And he meant every word. He pressed his cheek tightly to the
screen, wishing he could physically melt into the device and reappear on the side, pull the boy into
his arms, feel his heartbeat against his skin, his hair tickle his cheek, that they could fall asleep like
that to each other’s breathing. It was something he fantasized far more than he liked to admit.
“Jin. Jinnnnn.”
“Yes, Tae?”
“Isss not that far, from Seoul to Daegu.”
“It’s not.”
Chapter End Notes
Ahhh. Y'all don't know how happy your comments make me. How it encourages me
to keep going. I have never been this nervous sharing my writing, so your assurance
gives me a great deal of comfort.
Again if there are any specific parts that stuck out to you, please let me know, I'm
always curious.
And lastly...if you're having a hard time, don't keep it to yourself. Talk to someone.
Chapter Notes
It really wasn’t that far.
Seokjin glanced at the time stamp printed in the center of his train ticket. Just a little over two
hours and he’d arrive at Daegu station.
He wiggled his way down the aisle until he found a vacant seat by the window. It took seconds to
get settled in; all he brought with him was his trusty old backpack, its only contents being that of a
toothbrush, a towel, and a change of clothes.
The train rumbled on, past the dusty greys of the city, bounding into brilliant greens of the
countryside. Breathe , he willed himself, placing a hand over his heart to try and steady its chaotic
beating. For a Friday afternoon there were a decent amount of weekenders as company, mostly
families with young kids, couples, the elderly. Not many travelers of his age.
Despite his outfit appearing simple at first glance, he’d in fact agonized over what to wear for
hours the night before. He finally settled on something that screamed I’m-not-trying-too-hard-but-
I-still-want-to-impress-you; black Converses, a pair of skinny jeans with rips at the knees, a plain
white tee, and his varsity jacket to top it all off. He must’ve checked the mirror twenty times
before leaving his dormitory that morning. Since when do I care about looking cool? He thought to
himself as he stared out of the dirty glass. Not a big deal. Just surprising an old friend, that’s all.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice to his left; their train had come to a stop at a new station
and an ahjumma was asking if she could take the empty seat next to him. With a polite bow he
shifted closer to the window, allowing her to settle in by his side. They ended up sharing a couple
of clementines before arriving in Daegu.
He could feel his heart rate spiking again as the conductor crackled onto the intercom, announcing
that they’d arrived at their final destination. Rising from his seat and hoisting his backpack further
up his shoulders, he warily eyed the platform outside. A crowd was already bubbling at the foot of
the escalators.
Seokjin had never been to Daegu before. In his younger years he’d traveled a considerable amount
internationally; America, Europe, Australia, Japan...the list was extensive. But domestically within
Korea, he could name the number of cities and towns he’d visited on one hand.
He managed to flag down a cab rather smoothly after exiting the station. “Kyungpook University,
please.” The driver nodded and proceeded forward, Seokjin leaning back in his seat, nervously
retracing the steps of the plan in his head.
The cityscape looked similar to Seoul, at least judging by the view from the highway as his car
careened past slower lanes. Part of him wanted to get to Kyungpook as quickly as possible; the
other half of him felt like he was going to hurl.
Seokjinnie: What’re you up to, TaeTae?
He pressed “send” then waited with anticipation, although he didn’t have to hold his breath for
long; the response was almost immediate.
Taehyungie: In class. :( About to fall asleep…
Seokjinnie: At least it’s your last class today, no?
Taehyungie: Thank fuck, yeah. About to die.
Taehyungie: Save me :)
Seokjin couldn’t help but crack into a grin upon reading the last message. Hang in there. I’m
coming.
He mumbled a small “thank you” to the driver before hopping off onto the curb, releasing a shaky
exhale as he scanned the entrance of the university and its many buildings. Where are you, Kim
Taehyung.
He was fully aware of the eyes that followed him as he weaved through campus, looking like a
clueless tourist with two pieces of paper clutched in his hands; a map of the grounds and
Taehyung’s class schedule. With careful steps he approached the specific building listed on the
schedule, taking in its proud brick walls and lofty glass windows, the lump in his throat growing
steadily larger as the watch on his hand ticked to 3:45PM. Fifteen more minutes until classes were
over. Yes, he could’ve utilized the extra time to do some exploring on his own, but somehow his
feet remained glued in his spot, sneakers scuffing against the grass until they were stained green at
the soles.
Before he could gather his thoughts coherently, the doors of the hall burst open and one, two, five,
ten students came pouring out and down the stairs, the quiet suddenly replaced by chatter and
fanfare. It was 4:00PM. He tried to ignore the fact that he was having trouble breathing, that his
palms were sweating so profusely he had to wipe them over and over again on the sides of his
jeans. There was now a sea of heads passing him by, prompting him to stand on his tiptoes to get a
good look at all of them. He could not miss Taehyung in this whole affair; the surprise had to be
perfect.
A flash of red. His head jerked upwards, following the object in question; a red backpack that
looked all too familiar, with a tear in the right shoulder strap and a pin secured on the front pocket.
It was him.
It was Taehyung.
Looking at him from behind, it was evident he hadn’t gotten a haircut since he moved to Daegu,
long tresses fluttering in the spring breeze as he bounded down the steps, a pair of headphones
secured over his ears, the wire of said headphones tucked into his pocket.
It was like muscle memory, the way Seokjin pushed through the crowd, the way his arm reached
out to grab the handle of the backpack to yank it back, hard. He could feel Taehyung stumble
several steps before whipping around, eyes flaming for just a moment before they landed on
Seokjin and burst into fireworks instead.
“JIN.”
The next thing he knew Taehyung was cackling with glee, throwing his body full throttle on top of
him and causing him to nearly fall off balance. Several students still milling out of the building
dodged out of their way. Whatever traces of nerves were immediately overtaken by pure
unadulterated joy, as he struggled to wrap his arms around the boy practically flying off his handle,
bouncing up and down on his heels whilst embracing him in a chokehold.
“WHEN DID YOU GET HERE WHAT ARE YOU DOING WHO EVEN ARE YOU WHO AM
I-”
“TAE I CAN’T BREATHE!”
“I’M SORRY I’M SORRY OH MY GOD!”

He briefly let go of Seokjin to take a good look at him; eyes glittering, smile stretching from ear to
ear. “IT’S YOU? It’s really YOU?”
“Of-”
“I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE-”
“TAE,” Seokjin giggled as two arms wrapped tightly around his neck once again, the shorter boy
burying his face into his shoulder like his life depended on it.
“It’s your last class of the day, right?” Seokjin mumbled, giving him a shy pat on the back.
Taehyung nodded “yes,” into his chest.
“I know Jimin asked you already, but I just want to be sure. You don’t have plans this weekend,
right? Can you spare it for me?”
“Yes. Well...actually I made last minute plans to get dinner with some friends tonight but I’ll
cancel.”
“No. Don’t cancel.”
“I’ll cancel. Everything, I’ll cancel everything. You’re here.”
---
The first order of business was to drop off their bags at the dormitory. It was a short walk from the
academic building, no more than five minutes. Seokjin’s initial impression of Taehyung’s room
was that it was much smaller than his, albeit with the same number of bunks; four beds cramped
into a space that was really more ideal for two. The second thing he noticed, and perhaps the lack
of space exasperated this, the place was unbearably messy. Clothes strewn across the tiled floor,
empty snack bags littering the desks, dust collecting on every surface.
Taehyung had claimed the bottom bunk on the left, his sheets and blankets gathered into a
haphazard pile. “Settle down, make yourself at home,” Taehyung urged as he plucked a pair of
pants off of the ground to change into. The two avoided eye contact until both had slipped into their
lounge clothes, Seokjin wearing a pair of sweatpants and the same white tee, Taehyung opting for
his patterned pajamas.
His roommates were nowhere to be seen. The wall clock ticked to 4:30PM, the afternoon light
digressing from high noon to a demure gold. Taehyung fluffed up his pillow and propped it behind
his back, eyed fixed on Seokjin balanced tentatively on the opposite end of the bed.
“You tired from your trip? Wanna lay down?”
He couldn’t remember the last time the two of them were alone like this, in the seclusion of a warm
and quiet room, the air laced with a delicate yet dangerous intimacy so that even making eye
contact stirred within them a raging temptation. Resisting every urge to pounce on the boy across
from him, he gave Taehyung’s foot under the covers a light pat before suggesting, “Why don’t you
lie down for a bit? You’ve had classes all day. I’ll just stay up and read a little.”
“We can nap together.”
“What if your roommates walk in?” Seokjin muttered, fingers absentmindedly toying with some
stray threads on the quilt. “Don’t want to make it awkward for them.”
“Okay,” Taehyung relented with a pout. “I’ll take a quick nap then. Feel free to join me if you
change your mind,” he teased, sliding down until he was laying on his side. “Wake me up in thirty
minutes?”
Seokjin nodded, waiting for the boy to settle in before taking out his phone to catch up on the
webtoon he’d been following. Within minutes he could hear Taehyung’s steady breathing, could
feel the boy’s feet pressed firmly against his thigh, his toes twitching every so often in his sleep. It
was oddly comforting.
Half an hour passed like lightning, the clock on the wall ticking to 5:00PM. Setting down his
phone he placed a gentle hand on the outline of the boy’s foot, giving it a shake and waiting for a
response. Nothing.
He scooted further upwards until he was seated against Taehyung’s chest, his hand reaching to his
shoulder, earning only a faint groan in response. “Tae,” he muttered, running his fingers through
his long bangs, brushing them back and out of his face. A sheepish smile formed on the boy’s lips.
“Tae,” he whispered, leaning forward so that they were nearly eye-level. It was obvious up close;
he was clearly awake, just squeezing his eyes shut in playful defiance. “You brat,” Seokjin
chuckled softly, getting ready to tickle the life out of him. Taehyung was already giggling.
It was then that they heard the jingle of keys, the turn of the lock, the door creaking open upon
Taehyung’s roommate’s return, prompting Seokjin to move away and snap to his senses.
---
The two went back and forth for quite a while before Seokjin was finally able to convince
Taehyung not to cancel his plans. “I want to meet your friends,” he urged. “But I want alone time
with you and only you .” To which he laughed. “We’ll have all weekend for that.”
The dinner was off of school grounds, at a small sundubu joint around the corner from Kyungpook
campus. Upon their entry a flurry of hands in the back of the restaurant shot up, waving for them to
join their table.
“Taehyung-ah!” One of the boys bellowed as Seokjin and Taehyung seated themselves side by
side. “So this is the friend you were talking about?”
“Yes, yes. This is Seokjin. He’s visiting from Seoul.”
“WOW, you’re handsome.”
“Jin, this is Jeongwoo, Eungi,” Taehyung continued, ignoring their side comments.
“So freaking good looking, what the heck.”
“Best looking man I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Jeongwoo and Eungi’s Daegu accents were thick, dripping in heavy Satoori that made it initially
difficult to understand. But much to Seokjin’s surprise, Taehyung seemed to have no trouble
communicating with them at all, laughing heartily at their jokes and scanning the menu
simultaneously. And he wasn’t sure if his ears were playing tricks on him or not, but for a moment
he thought he could detect a hint of the accent in Taehyung’s speech, too.
The four got on quite swimmingly, the Daegu duo asking numerous questions about life in Seoul
and what Taehyung was like in high school. “Was he as cute as he is now?” Eungi asked. “Even
cuter,” Seokjin replied without hesitation. “Dunno what happened to him.” Earning a kick under
the table from the boy in question.
Towards the end of the dinner as the dirty bowls and dishes were cleared and the check settled, he
felt a small tap tap tap on the tip of his Converses. He glanced down to find that Taehyung’s foot
had scooted all the way over so that their feet rested side by side. Yet when he looked back up at
the culprit he was looking away instead, a coy smirk tugging at his lips.
Two can play at that game.
In an act of retaliation, he inched his fingers close to Taehyung’s leg and gave his inner thigh a
sizable pinch, eyes fixed straight ahead just as nonchalantly. He could feel the boy next to him
flinch rather violently, causing Eungi to furrow his brow in confusion. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Taehyung winced, smiling at Seokjin with a certain glint in his eye.
There was a certain thrill in meeting all of the new and important people in Taehyung’s life. He’d
met just one roommate briefly prior to dinner, and he was now on friendly terms with Eungi and
Jeongwoo, even going as far as exchanging contact information before parting ways. “Next time
you come to Daegu hit us up too, okay? Don’t let Tae hog you all to himself.”
They strolled back to the dormitories at a leisurely pace, Seokjin soaking in every detail of his
surroundings, no matter how mundane. The unfamiliar street names. The varieties of trees lining
the sidewalk. Even the shape of the moon seemed a bit more charming in Daegu.
“Are you sure you’re okay with just going back to the dorms?” Taehyung asked for the tenth time
in a row. “Isn’t there anything else you want to see?”
“Other than the lake, not really. But we’re going there tomorrow night, right?”
“Yeah, we are. But your time here is so short, don’t you want to see more of the city? I’m a really
good tour guide.”
“Honestly? I just want to do what you’d normally do on a Friday night.”
“But that’s...that’s so boring...”
“Not if it’s with you, dummy.”
A deep blush crept to the boy’s cheeks. Thank heavens it was already dark out.
They spent the rest of their first night together playing video games with Taehyung’s roommates.
Youngjae, the one Seokjin met prior to dinner, had already left Daegu, on a Busan-bound train to
visit his friends for the weekend. Seokjin was able to meet the remaining two upon their return;
Ilhoon and Changsub. Youngjae had been a bit more reserved in demeanor, but the latter duo were
loud and vivacious, like a pair of circus clowns.
“I won’t be here tomorrow,” Ilhoon mentioned just minutes after meeting Seokjin. “Going to my
girlfriend’s place. So we’ll have to make the most of tonight.”
Which really meant a lot of lounging around in their pajamas, watching episodes of anime back to
back, cracking open a couple bottles of beer, getting sucked into conversations of existential crises
until one person caved and excused themselves for bed. That evening it was Ilhoon who backed out
first, releasing a hefty yawn as he stretched his long limbs. “I have an early morning tomorrow.
Gotta crash.”
Ilhoon and Changsub shared a bunk, while Youngjae and Taehyung shared another. “Jin, you sleep
in my bed. I’ll sleep in Youngjae’s,” Taehyung suggested as the room went dark and the boys
shuffled to their respective corners.
He felt a certain warmth flood through his body as he pulled Taehyung’s blankets over his
shoulders, the faint yet familiar scent of lavender enveloping him as he shifted into a preferable
position.
Everything was pitch black, with only a hint of a silver moon trickling in through the windows.
Seokjin could hear the slight creaking of the bed frame above him, of Taehyung rolling around for
several minutes before he finally settled into his mattress. He couldn’t figure out why he was
smiling at such a trivial thing, how the simple act of falling asleep could be so endearing.
Less than five minutes of silence before he heard the creaking noise again, shortly followed by a
tiny “Pssttt.” Blinking his eyes open he looked up to find a mop of hair dangling over the side of
the top bunk.
“What, Tae?”
“Thank you,” the boy whispered, eyes forming into little crescents.
“For what?”
“For coming.”
His eyelids fluttering to a close, a sheepish chuckle escaping from his lips. “Go to sleep, you silly.”
Chapter End Notes
Hehe. Were you guys surprised? Most of you probably saw it coming from the last
update. Their time in Daegu spans several chapters, so this is just the beginning.
Let me know what you guys think. As always the comments are like fuel to my
engine, I absolutely love and look forward to reading and replying.
Chapter Notes
They woke with the sun and without an itinerary. His eyes adjusted to the bright light filtering in
through the windows, ultimately landing on Ilhoon wandering around the room, picking up various
items and throwing them into an open duffle bag on the ground.
“Morning,” the boy flashed a smile at a sleepy Seokjin.
He could hear the light snores of Changsub, still fast asleep with his back turned to the room’s
other occupants. The bunk above his own was already empty, sheets tossed to the side, the boy
nowhere to be seen. As if on cue the door opened with a bang, a freshly showered Taehyung
standing at the frame with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“You’re awake,” he mumbled, shaking beads of water out of his hair. Seokjin couldn’t bear to look
in his direction.
With the coming of a new morning also came a fresh determination from Taehyung to spend the
whole day alone, just the two of them, no one else in the mix. It was endearing, the way he rushed
Seokjin out of bed before Changsub could wake up and tag along. “Let me pick out a nice outfit,”
Seokjin purposely delayed, knowing full well that it was driving the boy crazy.
“You literally only have two shirts to choose from, can you hurry?”
“What’s the rush, Tae?”
“Can you just hurry? ”
Bickering and teasing aside, Seokjin truly wanted to see every aspect of Taehyung’s new life.
Where he ate, where he studied, his secret hideouts, where he and his friends liked to loiter and
waste time. Purchasing a couple of snacks from the canteen, they walked and ate leisurely,
weaving in and out of buildings, up and down the abandoned weekend pathways of campus.
There was nothing remarkable about Kyungpook’s library. But there was something warm and
lovely about the way the sun spilled in through the dusty panes, something charming about the
smell of old books as Taehyung led them down a narrow aisle to a certain corner on the top floor.
“This is where you’ll find me if I’m ever studying,” he whispered, gesturing towards an empty
table by the window.
“And how often is that?”
“Like once a week, tops.”
Pulling out one of the wooden chairs and settling into it, he watched as Taehyung did the same in
the seat across from him, both boys with their hands clasped neatly upon the tabletops, looking the
part of prim and proper students but with mischievous glints in their eyes.
“Do you come here alone or with others?” Seokjin asked out of curiosity.
“Mostly alone. Couple times with other people too.”
“Oh?” He felt a pang of jealousy but pressed it down with an impressive poker face. “Really.
Anyone cute, worth mentioning?”
“Mmm…” The boy trailed off, licking his lips. “Yeah, actually.”
“What’re they like?”
“A total jerk. Really distracting. Can’t focus for life when he’s around.”
“Sounds like a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah. Devastatingly handsome, though.”

“Oh?”
“Yeah. I don’t get to see him as much as I used to, but when I do…” He trailed off, at a sudden loss
for words, heart swelling at the sight of Seokjin sitting opposite him, dark hair falling into his
lashline, a soft smile tugging at his pretty lips.
“Sounds like a hopeless situation,” Seokjin chuckled, breaking the silence.
“Hopeless situation?” Taehyung grinned before leaning over the table so that their faces were just
inches apart, his amber eyes like little pools of the afternoon sun. “It’s ‘cause of me. I’m the
hopeless one.”
---
They took a southbound bus into the city for dinner. “What do you want to eat?” Taehyung asked,
scrolling through his phone for recommendations. “Your favorite place. I don’t care what it is or
where. The place you love the most.”
The entire busride Seokjin sat by the window with Taehyung leaning in close, pointing at all the
various buildings and structures outside, explaining what each landmark was and why it was
important to Daegu. It had only been a little over two months since Taehyung moved to the city,
but he appeared to be a seasoned tour guide already. It made Seokjin’s heart twinge in a way he
couldn’t comprehend.
It seemed that the boy was almost self conscious about his choice of dinner, carefully leading them
to a humble nureunguksu mom and pop shop. But once the bowls of noodles arrived at their table
and the two began to dig in, there was no room for doubt; the food was absolutely delectable. No
wonder the establishment began to fill up until a small line formed outside the door. “Good thing
we came early.”
They’d spent the entire day together and yet the two still hadn’t run out of things to talk about.
Above the buzz of patrons and the occasional hollering of waiters greeting new customers, they
chatted as if they hadn’t seen one another in years.
And after they fought over the check like a pair of old ahjummas (Seokjin won, as usual) they
made their long-awaited trek to Suseong Lake, just a ten minute walk away from the restaurant.
Both were dressed comfortably; Seokjin wearing the same jeans, varsity jacket, white tee,
Taehyung sporting a pair of black skinnies and an oversized jean jacket, sleeves rolled messily past
his wrists. He remembered the way his friend would dress in their high school days; dorky looking
khakis and oversized tees, but not oversized in a cool way. When did he become so heartbreakingly
fashionable?
It was strange, how it felt as if the whole world had shifted once they stepped onto the premises of
the lake. The sun was beginning to set, its rays soaking the trees around them in a liquid gold. The
cherry blossoms were finally in full bloom, the grass blanketed in a demure pink.
He shivered as the evening breeze blew by, prompting Taehyung to scoot a bit closer so that they
bumped arms every so often. Once they reached the lakeside, they stood in the middle of the path,
debating which way to go.
“Left? Right?”
“Right.”
“Okay.”
There was an abundance of university students in their company, most also making laps around the
perimeter, some lounging under the cherry trees, others situated on benches by the water. And it
was beautiful, how the wind carried the sound of their laughter, honeyed melodies convincing him
that at least in that moment, there wasn’t a care in the world to be had.
“This lake is so much better than mine,” Seokjin confessed, taking it all in as they ambled side by
side, sweet and slow.
Taehyung smiled wordlessly, sliding his arm around the small of Seokjin’s waist. The boy tensed
for a second before returning the favor, bringing a hand around his shoulder and pulling him in
closer. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to walk, but he knew that Taehyung enjoyed things like
this. And perhaps being in a different city helped to ease his nerves, the anonymity making him
feel safe.
“Tae, you know you’re starting to pick up an accent?”

“So I’ve been told. You like it? It’s sexy, no?”
“It’s cute,” Seokjin couldn’t help but laugh. “Makes me miss you, though. Feel like I don’t know
you anymore.”
To which Taehyung swiveled his head around to look up at Seokjin incredulously. “What do you
mean, you don’t know me? We talk every day, what’re you saying?”
“Well it’s not the same as actually being here. Feel like in just the last twelve hours we’ve made up
for two months of talking on the phone.”
“You’ve missed me that much, huh?” He beamed, Seokjin biting his tongue and giving him a
shove instead of an answer.
“Do you miss Seoul when you’re here, Tae?”
“Seoul is whatever. I miss you.”
This kid. Still as shameless as ever.
The sun had set behind the trees, the world hanging upon dusk and its periwinkle blues, the
sleeping lanterns around the lake slowly blinking awake. He wanted to look more at the view but
found himself staring at the boy beside him instead, his eyes glittering with glee even when they
strolled in silence.
They reached a point in the path where the branches of a particular row of cherry trees hung so low
to the ground most pedestrians chose to walk around it. Taehyung, taking the lead, decided to duck
underneath it; unhooking their arms for a moment to lift up one branch after another, sending a
shower of petals to rain down upon them as they forged forward. From a couple feet behind
Seokjin could catch glimpses of his back before it would disappear behind another pink curtain.
“Tae,” he called out, hand prying away a heavier branch. “Where...where do you stand these
days?”
“With us?”
“Same as before. Nothing’s changed,” he replied matter-of-factly, emerging from the tunnel of
flowers into open air. Seokjin quickly resurfaced by his side as well. “It’s only been a couple
months, Jin. Have you no faith in me?”
“So there’s no one else you like here in Daegu?”
A fervent shake of the head. “Not a single person. I don’t even look. ”
He reached for Seokjin’s hand this time, lacing their fingers together, walking backwards so he
could keep looking at his face.
“I don’t get it.”
“Get what.”
“Why you even like me,” he mumbled softly, eyes darting away.
“You’re seriously asking me this?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I never understood why.”
“What’s not to understand?”
“You liked me since the first month-”
“First DAY,” Tae corrected him.

“See, that’s...it’s crazy to me. Why?”
“Where do I even start?” Taehyung mused, swinging their arms back and forth as he pondered the
question.
“Wait, don’t actually answer, I was just-”
“No no, I’ll tell ya. You’re gonna have to give me a couple days to finish rambling. I’m kidding.
Or maybe not? You ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad. You’ve got me riled up now,” he cackled, relishing in the blush creeping upon Seokjin’s
cheeks. “I’ll be honest...the first reason I started crushing on you was because you were so damn
good looking. I know you probably get so sick of hearing that. I’m sorry. But it’s true. God, you
took my fucking breath away.”
“You’re dumb.”
“But you know...as the years went by, the more I got to know you…”
“Mm?”
Taehyung paused for a lengthy amount of time, running a thumb across Seokjin’s knuckle before
answering in earnest: “I don’t know. I don’t know why I like you.”
A small chuckle escaped from Seokjin’s lips. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I have no clue, Jin. I like you. I just-”
A thud, as Taehyung came to an abrupt stop, body slamming into that of another. The two were so
engrossed in conversation that they forgot to keep an eye on the walkway, especially with
Taehyung traversing backwards the whole time.
“Sorry!” Amongst a flurry of apologies both parties bowed to one another, Seokjin and Taehyung
hurriedly releasing each other’s hands, the other gentleman assuring them repeatedly “It’s okay!”
But once all three straightened their backs to look one another in the eye, both the “stranger” and
Taehyung’s faces lit up in recognition.
“OH! Sunbae!” He exclaimed brightly. “What are you doing here?”
“Could ask the same to you. I’m waiting for Seojoon and Dahyun. They’re running late again.”
“Who’s surprised?”
Seokjin couldn’t help but ogle at the upperclassman as he spoke, the way his eyes crinkled at the
corners, how sincerely happy he seemed every time he cracked into a smile, like a sun breaking
through the clouds.
“Where are my manners,” the elder mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Is this your friend?
Wait, is this the friend you ditched me for?” He teased accusingly.
“YES. Yes, I’m sorry, my fault. Seokjin, this is Hyungsik sunbae. Sunbae, this is Seokjin. He’s
visiting from Seoul. We went to high school together.”
“Hello! Just Jin is fine.”
“Nice to meet you, Jin. I’m actually from Seoul, too.”
“Ah, that’s right!” Taehyung exclaimed.
“Oh, no way! Which high school did you go to?”
“Apgujeong.”
“Oh, how fancy!”
“No, not at all. I was the village idiot.”
“Well it’s cool that the two of you met here in Daegu, of all places,” Seokjin remarked.
Hyungsik laughed. “Right? Like fate.”
“Anyway, we won’t bother you for too long. Enjoy the rest of your night, sunbae.”
“Okay, okay. Was good meeting you, Jin. Enjoy your time in Daegu.”
“Good meeting you!”
After a series of prolonged waving and bowing, the two finally turned their backs to Hyungsik,
continuing on their journey around the water.
“How old is he?”
“He’s a junior.”
“How’d you two meet if he’s older?”
“Ah,” the boy cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you
some other time.”
“Seems like a really nice guy.” And he meant it.
“He is, he is,” Taehyung nodded, hand searching for Seokjin’s until their fingers interlocked once
more, this time with a sense of familiarity as if they’d practiced this before.
Perhaps it was the way the sky had seeped from blue into black, how the lights danced upon the
water like fireflies in the summertime. But there in the chill of early spring, in the refuge of a city
unknown, in the promise of nightfall, Seokjin felt bolder than he’d ever been. He tucked their laced
hands into his jacket pocket, thumb tracing Taehyung’s knuckles, memorizing every little rise and
fall, every curve and line.
“Can we stay here forever?” He sighed, leaning against the cold railing.
“You can visit anytime. Come every weekend if you like. Just imagine this place in the summer.”
They took a couple of photographs to commemorate the moment, the flash blinding them and
producing somewhat unflattering pictures. But nevertheless they giggled over the outcome,
lingering by the pier for some time before finally peeling away.
It was Seokjin’s turn to walk backwards, eyes flitting between Taehyung’s boxy grin and their
clumsy feet, carefully leading the two through an alcove of trees. “Careful, you’ll trip,” Taehyung
muttered - and sure enough, mere seconds later his foot caught on a protruding root, sending him
stumbling forward and crashing into Taehyung.
There fell a strange silence over the two when they realized they’d wandered into the thick of the
blossoms, a secret nook tucked away from the rest of the world, away from the glittering lake and
its proud lampposts. The way Seokjin looked at Taehyung had changed. The air too subsequently
shifted, heavy with the perfume of flowers and desire mixed all together. Suddenly he was taking
one step closer, then another, and then both hands were snaking around Taehyung’s waist, coming
together at the small of the boy’s back and pulling him in so that the two were chest to chest, hip to
hip, their eyes never leaving one another’s.
“I don’t want to go,” Seokin whispered, voice barely audible over the sighing of the wind through
the branches.
Taehyung blinked back up at him through his long lashes, lips parted in anticipation. “I don’t want
you to go.”
He felt as if his heart could burst open at any moment, leaving him no choice but to bring
Taehyung so close to him it felt as if they were melding into one. He could feel the boy’s hands
clutching tightly on the fabric of his jacket, could feel him nuzzle his face into his chest. Is this
what friends do? He wondered as he buried his face in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, picking up
the familiar scent of lavender.
Nothing has changed.
There were so many petals dotting his hair that it looked as if it was snowing.
If anything, I only want you more now.
He pulled away from Taehyung in silence, brushing the flowers out of his tresses before finding his
hand again in the dark. He didn’t even need to look this time.
But I can’t get used to this, he thought as his thumb grazed every mountain and valley of the boy’s
hand in his.
Because here I am with you, and I’m missing you already.
Chapter End Notes
THOUGHTS? FEELINGS? DON'T BE A SILENT READER AND SCREAM AT

ME!
I love reading your feedback. Seriously. This week has been tough
mentally/emotionally so I need encouragement pleathe.
Chapter Notes
This chapter is very short. It was originally supposed to be part of the previous chapter
but I got tired of editing. Here you go, enjoy.
By the time they returned to the dormitory it was nearly 2:00AM, the room shrouded in total
darkness, the slow and steady breathing of Changsub in the top bunk the only sound to be heard.
Switching on Taehyung’s tiny desk lamp for illumination, the two scuttled about as carefully as
they could, each making their trips to the bathroom as needed, changing into pajamas before
slipping into their respective beds; Seokjin on the bottom bunk, Taehyung climbing to the top, the
wood of the ladder creaking under his every step.
It was 2:30AM by the time their heads hit the pillows. With great satisfaction Seokjin shifted
beneath the covers, stretching his legs and wriggling his toes until he found an optimal position.
“Goodnight,” Taehyung whispered from above. “Goodnight,” Seokjin whispered back.
Unlike the night prior, a part of him felt inexplicably restless, eyes opening and closing ceaselessly
as he tried and failed to drift off to sleep. His bunkmate on the other hand was less subtle about it;
tossing and turning noisily, fluffing his pillow, kicking his covers, the bed frame groaning under
his weight. After a good ten minutes of commotion the room finally fell to a silence, Seokjin
managing to steady his breathing with practiced inhales and exhales until his eyelids drooped to a
close.
It was almost 3:00AM when his eyes fluttered open, vision adjusting to the blackness, ears perking
at the sound of sheets tossed to the side and the creak, creak, creak of the ladder’s hinges once
again. With a soft thud Taehyung landed on the tiled floor, shimmied into his slippers, then exited
the room with a click of the door. No more than five minutes later the bright light of the hallway
poured in through the crack as the boy re-entered and shuffled back to their beds. He came to a halt
at the foot of the ladder, but instead of proceeding his way upwards, he lingered for a long time,
long enough to rouse Seokjin’s suspicion.
“Hey. Jin.”
Silence.
“Jin? You awake?”
“Mm?” He hummed groggily in response.
“Can...can I just sleep with you? I’m too lazy to go back up.”
It was a wordless gesture, the way he scooted further against the wall to make space for Taehyung.
Just as quietly, the boy acknowledged the signal and climbed into the tiny twin bed, wiggling under
the blanket, back pressed firmly against Seokjin’s chest.
“You comfortable?” He whispered, craning his neck behind him to catch a glance of Seokjin, who
feigned sleepiness and nodded with his eyes sealed shut.
It was an exceptional squeeze for two grown men to attempt, but nevertheless they tried their best
to make it work. Within minutes the smaller boy’s body began to heat up, prompting him to peel
off the covers yet refusing to move even an inch away from Seokjin; his hair tickling the taller
boy’s chin, their feet grazing every so often, the curves of their bodies melting into one.
Instinctively Seokjin’s hand twitched with want, wanting to drape his arm around Taehyung’s
stomach to pull him close. Instead he resisted with every fiber of his being.
His breath hitched in his throat when Taehyung decided to roll onto his other side so that the two
lay face to face. Keep your eyes closed, he willed himself. But the moment he felt Taehyung’s nose
brush the tip of his own he blinked wide awake, only to find the boy staring back at him, large
amber eyes searching his own in the dark.
“What,” Seokjin mumbled, trying his best to suppress the blush creeping to his cheeks. The tips of
his ears were already burning.
“Nothing,” Taehyung murmured, not for a second breaking eye contact.
It was as if he was on automatic pilot, his body operating with a mind of its own. Hand trembling,
he reached up to cup Taehyung’s face, fingers tracing his delicate jawline, prompting the boy to
nuzzle into Seokjin’s palm, hungry for more.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed, stroking Taehyung’s skin just under his eyelash. Then,
feeling braver - stupider, he slid his thumb down, caressing his cheek before finding his way to his
bottom lip. Stop, his mind screamed as his heart plowed forward without abandon. But it didn’t
help that Taehyung was drumming onwards too, his lips pressing gently to Seokjin’s knuckle.
He gulped. “I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.
He seemed to understand what Seokjin meant without having to ask. “It’s okay.”
They had danced behind the line for months; never daring to cross it as if they were tethered to
ropes. But as Seokjin drank in the image of the boy in front of him one last time before closing his
eyes, it was as if the rope he’d been bound to was cut free, and over the line he went.
Neither could fathom what was so extraordinary about two lips meeting in the middle. But the
moment he felt Taehyung’s upon his own he was instantly overcome with unparalleled euphoria. It
was just as he’d remembered, like the last time they kissed in the alleyway mid-December; supple
and tender, although this time he tasted more like toothpaste instead of the fizzy soda, fresh and
minty, tantalizing. Within seconds his hands found their way to Taehyung’s waist, reaching
underneath his cotton shirt, gripping the soft flesh of his tummy as the two exchanged gentle pecks.
He wanted to take things slow; the jarring stillness of the room, a sleeping Changsub no more than
ten feet away from them, the very fact that it was his last night in Daegu; all of it prompted them to
savor every second as if it were their last.
And so he inhaled and exhaled deeply, making sure to pull away and to process, to relish in the
warmth of Taehyung’s breath fluttering across his skin. But he could feel that Taehyung was
growing impatient, pressing himself deeper into him, lips chasing his if they were ever apart. He
couldn’t help but chuckle as the boy’s hand reached around to the back of his head, fingers
intertwining aggressively into his hair to bring him even closer.
Fuck.
He was moaning into his mouth now, legs curling to hook themselves around Seokjin’s. Breathy
little gasps in between desperate kisses that set his whole being on fire.
Fuck it.
Before either could comprehend what was happening Seokjin was twisting their bodies so that he
was looming on top of Taehyung, the blanket that had covered them falling messily to the side. He
couldn’t see nor hear anything else anymore; nothing mattered except the carnal need to grind their
hips together, for the boy’s hands to caress the dip of Seokjin’s back, pushing his tee shirt up past
his stomach. They kissed as if they were drunk or high or a combination of both; sloppy, hungry,
lips bruised and slightly bitten, tongues licking like there was no tomorrow.
A small whine escaped from Taehyung’s mouth as Seokjin broke away for a moment, planting wet
marks along his jawline instead, trailing down his pretty neck, sucking at the skin around his
collarbone, causing the boy underneath him to writhe with pleasure. He was already hard; Seokjin
could feel it against his thigh.
He couldn’t stop himself. He’d imagined this moment for far too long. Years of longing in high
school to months of yearning while being apart. He hovered over the crook of Taehyung’s neck,
laughing silently as the the other swallowed thickly.
“You okay, Tae?”
The boy was panting too heavily to respond.
He took it as a cue to move back up his neck, finding his mouth once more and earning throaty
moans and gasps in the process. It was sensory overload; it was driving him mad. “Fucking take
this off,” Taehyung breathed, fingers grappling at the hem of Seokjin’s shirt.
Said piece of clothing was nearly halfway off his head when they heard a faint cough from the
other side of the room.
They came to a halt at once; Taehyung laying motionless on his back, Seokjin straddling his
thighs, shirt hanging limply around his neck, bare chest heaving. Neither dared to make another
move as Changsub continued shifting in his bunk. Both boys were still hard.
It wasn’t until they heard a definitive snore that they breathed a sigh of relief, Seokjin gradually
lowering himself down so that the two were touching foreheads, Taehyung’s eyes squeezed shut in
horror.
“Fuck,” Seokjin mumbled against his swollen lips.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung responded weakly, long fingers reaching into Seokjin’s sweaty hair.
“Maybe-” Gulp. “Maybe we should sleep in separate beds.”
An exceptionally long pause. “Yea. Okay.”
They untangled themselves from one another, Seokjin peeling himself off of Taehyung to allow the
boy to stumble out of the bed.
“Goodnight,” Taehyung whispered at the foot of the ladder, his clothes rumpled, his hair an unruly
mess.
“Goodnight,” Seokjin nodded, laying back down against his pillow, the bed still awfully warm
from the events that had just transpired.
It would take hours before his heart would slow down to a normal pace.
Chapter End Notes
BOW CHICKA WOW WOW EHHHH?????
I told y'all this chapter was short. Short but sexy, hopefully. The next one...which I
hope to have up by mid to end of the week...should be considerably longer.
Last update I cried about silent readers and many of you emerged from the shadows to
calm my needy ass down. In all seriousness, thank you for speaking up. Reading all
the feedback made me very happy. Please continue to express yourselves in the
comments below.
Chapter Notes
Changsub’s bed was already empty by the time Seokjin blinked his eyes open. Thank God, he
thought to himself as he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste from the nightstand. I don’t even
want to know how much he heard-
So it was incredibly unfortunate that the two happened to run into each other in front of the
bathroom sinks.
“Oh! Jin!” Changsub exclaimed, mouth full of foam.
“Oh! Morning.”
He’d been humming a cheerful tune when Seokjin entered, shaving the last bit of his stubble with
heightened concentration. Turning the faucet back on and rinsing his face with water, he casually
asked if their guest had slept well the night before.
“Mhm,” he nodded, shoving the toothpaste laden bristles into his mouth in hopes of avoiding
further conversation. “You?”
“Me? Eh. I always toss and turn, wake up in the middle of the night.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Can never sleep all the way through. My problem, not yours.”
---
Upon re-entering the room he found a disheveled Taehyung sitting at the edge of the bottom bunk,
scouring through his drawers in search of his glasses. Changsub was dressed head to toe in workout
gear, a heavy gym bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m going to Keimyung campus. Gonna be there
all day for a basketball tournament. You guys wanna come?” He asked out of courtesy, already
making his way to the door. As expected both boys shook their heads and watched as the roommate
stepped out with a quiet click of the lock.
With the room falling to silence, every sound seemed magnified; the ticking of the clock on the
wall, the chirping of the birds outside, the creak of the mattress as Seokjin sank into it, maintaining
a foot of space between himself and Taehyung.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Morning,” Taehyung smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.
“What’s the game plan?”
There hung an awkward tension in the air, thick enough to slice with a knife. He focused intently
on a stray piece of thread, looking up for a moment only to find Taehyung staring at him with an
intensity that veered on dangerous.
“What do you want to do?”
“Let’s get some fresh air first,” Seokjin suggested. “Let’s go get food.”
---
It was an exceptionally chilly spring morning, one that merited more layers than usual, Seokjin
sporting Taehyung’s hoodie underneath his jacket as they traversed to the nearest dining hall. After
piling heaping portions onto their trays they settled down at an empty table by the window,
basking in the warmth of the sun through the glass.
“Sorry this isn’t as glamorous as you’re used to. Figured it’d be good for both of us to save
money.”
Seokjin laughed. “Free food is the best food.”

Taehyung watched as Seokjin dipped his spoon into his bowl, blowing gently before bringing the
soup to his lips. A dismissable detail to anyone else, but for him, it stirred his heart in a way he
couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he was currently wearing his favorite
grey sweatshirt, the hood draped over his messy bedhead, slight bags under his eyes, cheeks still
rosy pink from the cold. Suddenly the table felt like a barrier, one that he wanted to leap across so
that he could wrap his arms around the sleepy boy.
“Can we talk about the elephant in the room?” He piped up, causing Seokjin to nearly choke mid-
slurp.
“Awfully rude of you to call me an elephant,” he replied without missing a beat.
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh at his stupid jokes. But he found himself cracking into a smile
nevertheless.
“Jin, let’s be serious.”
“Okay.” He set down his spoon with a clatter, finally looking up from his tray to meet Taehyung’s
sharp gaze.
“Why did you visit me?”
“Been a while since we’d seen each other.”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed, not satisfied. “And?”
“I missed you,” Seokjin mustered, ears reddening. “You know that.”
It’s always hard for him to say these things.
“And?”
“What are you getting at?”
“We kissed, Jin.”
“Yeah.”
“Actually, you initiated it.”
“Right. I did.” A pause. “I wanted to.”
“So what does that mean?”
He was poking at his food with his chopsticks, his whole face and neck now crimson too.
“We’ve been a bit reckless, haven’t we?” Seokjin murmured softly, the events from hours before
still fresh on their minds.
“Just a little bit.”
“I…” He trailed off, chewing on his lips as he searched for the right words to say. “I can’t seem to
keep myself from you.”
Taehyung’s heart leapt to his throat.
“No matter how much I try...to use logic and reason,” Seokjin chuckled. “I look at you, and all of
that goes out the window.”
For the first time he was the one at a loss for words, releasing a lengthy exhale as his hands
trembled underneath the table.
“What happened last night...yes, it was in the heat of the moment. Maybe a little dumb. But I’m
sure you already know by now, Tae. I wanted it. It wasn’t a mistake.”
Why do I feel like crying.
“Even so.” Seokjin was shaking too, with every word. “For me...it’s not as simple as ‘want.’
Although I wish it was.”
Taehyung nodded.
“I keep thinking . Maybe I think too much, I don’t know. But part of me believes if I think hard
enough, then one day I’ll come up with a solution.”
“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”
“Tae.”
“Whatever it is you need to think over, I’ll wait. I’m good at waiting.”
“I don’t want you to sit around and wait for me when you could be moving forward.”
“I will sit there. And I will wait.”
“Look, there are things I can’t control-”
“I’m sure you have a lot of good points, but I don’t care. There’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure
of in my life, and it’s that I love you and I like you. So yeah. I’ll wait for you too.”
---
They’d meant to make better use of Seokjin’s remaining hours in Daegu, but instead they came up
with excuses of being “tired” and succumbing to “food coma”, making a mad dash back to an
empty dorm room to “take a quick nap.” This time there was no need for discussion; wordlessly
Taehyung climbed into his bottom bunk, Seokjin following suit and laying down by his side, arm
wrapping around the boy’s torso and pulling him in as close as physically possible.
Sleeping was out of the question. Both made an admirable attempt of closing their eyes and
feigning rest when really, their hearts were pounding like tiny war drums. He ran his hand up and
down Taehyung’s tummy, drawing light circles against his skin, prompting him to press his body
deeper against Seokjin’s chest and hips. Eventually they gave up on pretenses, Taehyung rolling
onto his other side so that the two were face to face, grabbing Seokjin’s face with haste and
bringing their lips together once more.
They kissed endlessly; at first soft and slow, tender and languid, breathing each other in, chests
rising and falling in unison. Shy, breathless whispers shared in between. It didn’t take long for the
air to shift, heat rising as they gripped onto one another with animalistic desire, pushing the
physical boundaries until Taehyung was rutting against his thigh, his moans and whines driving
Seokjin mad with want.
But they knew their limits; how far to go, and when to stop. In the waning afternoon light, as their
breathing slowed to a normal rate, as liquid gold saturated the room and painted their faces, they
took the time to simply look at one another. “I think I forgot just how handsome you are,”
Taehyung giggled, his thumb absentmindedly stroking Seokjin’s eyebrow.
Likewise, Seokjin peered into the eyes of the boy before him, soaking in every inch, memorizing
every detail. Taehyung had three prominent moles on his face; one on the lower waterline of his
right eye, the other on the very tip of his nose, the last balanced at the edge of his lip. He marveled
at the little specks on his face, how beautifully, almost strategically they were placed, like stars
forming a constellation. “And do you know how lovely you are?” Seokjin whispered, leaning
forward to plant a kiss beneath his eyelashes, moving down for a quick peck on his nose, then
finally finding his bottom lip, lingering there, unwilling to move away. All the while Taehyung’s
eyes remained closed, only fluttering open when he felt Seokjin’s warmth depart from him.
His train was scheduled to leave just before dinnertime. Despite fervent protests, Taehyung insisted
on sending him off at the station, the pair finding a quiet corner of the platform away from the
bustling crowds to say their farewells.
The night had become colder since they last ventured outside. “Keep the hoodie,” Taehyung
smiled, his hand reaching upwards to fix the hood so that it draped nicely over his jacket collar.
“Looks better on you anyway.”
“I’ll return it next time I see you. It’ll be summer by then, no?”
“Yes. Summer. I’ll come and see you this time.”
They could hear a shrill whistle in the distance, signaling a five minute warning before departure.
Seokjin glanced at the train waiting behind him, then back at the boy in front of him, a bit of a
frantic look in his eye. A look of I-want-to-kiss-you-but-I-don’t-know-if-I-should.
“No one knows us here,” Taehyung mumbled, as if reading his thoughts.
He caved in with that final push, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks, to give him one last kiss for
good measure. Or perhaps two, three, four more as he kept peeling away only to dive back in for
another, humming a smile into the other’s lips.
“Okay, okay. You’re going to miss your train,” Taehyung giggled, giving Seokjin a playful shove.
“One more,” he protested, planting a quick peck before backing hurriedly towards the tracks.
They rushed over to his designated car, Seokjin disappearing into it with a hastened squeeze of the
hand, reappearing moments later in Taehyung’s line of vision through the tinted windows. They
walked parallel to one another, Seokjin down the train aisle and Taehyung trailing alongside the
platform edge. By the time the boy settled into his seat by the window, Taehyung was already
standing on the other side.
He felt as if his heart could burst, the way Taehyung pressed his palm against the glass longingly,
wearing a sad expression across his pretty face. He couldn’t help but do the same, press his own
hand to the window so that their fingers were aligned, flashing a reassuring smile and urging for
him to go home, to go back to the dorm and get some rest.
Taehyung didn’t leave until the engine rumbled to a start, until the train lurched forward, the glass
escaping from his fingers, the sight of Seokjin growing steadily smaller until he was no more.
---
The weather warmed considerably later that week, enough so that Seokjin could wear a sleeveless
tee, and Jimin could go completely shirtless during a round of one on one basketball.
Jungkook was being a model student for once, holed up in the library in preparation for a rather
daunting exam. It was a shame that he was missing the first truly nice day of spring, the breeze
mild and inviting instead of cold and biting. With the sun halfway behind the buildings, the rest of
the sky was cast in a glorious pink glow. The mood was good. Seokjin was happy. A row of girls
perched quietly on the sidelines, sipping on their lattes and watching the game (or rather, scoping
out the eye candy).
“That’s Tae’s hoodie,” Jimin nodded towards the sweatshirt draped over Seokjin’s gym bag.
“Yeah.” A swoosh of the net as a shot went in.
“Care to explain, Jin? You haven’t told me anything since you’ve been back. I was your wingman,
dude. I helped to make it happen.”
“I do owe you one,” Seokjin laughed.
“Well?” Jimin prodded, clutching the ball to his side. “How did it go? What happened? I want all
the nasty details.”
“Do you actually want those nasty details?”
“NO. Don’t tell me you actually WENT THERE?” Jimin grinned from ear to ear. “I take it back.
Spare me, please. But overall, how did it go? How are you feeling? What’s going on with you
guys?”
“I feel more conflicted than before.”
“I sense a but coming-”
“But I’ve never been more sure of how I feel.”
“And that is?”

He hesitated, afraid to confess it out loud, fearful that if he spoke the truth into existence it would
become a reality he’d have to endure. But as he gazed at the sun now three quarters of a way gone,
as the sky burned a clementine orange, as the breeze rustled the strands falling across his face, he
couldn’t bear to hold it in any longer.
“I like him.”
Jimin simply listened in silence.
“I like him so much that it scares me. I just saw him last weekend and I miss him already.” He
sighed, tousling his sweaty hair, albeit doing so with a small smile. “What am I supposed to do,
Minnie?”
“One step at a time. For now, ignore the bigger picture.”
Chapter End Notes
Y'all, I don't know why I was super emotional editing this chapter. Have any of you
been in a scenario like this before? Just curious.
Please let me know how you feel so far. Screaming at the silent readers has worked as
many of you have shown yourselves. I see you and I love you.
Chapter Notes
He didn’t want to call it hope. He knew it wasn’t that simple. He was living in denial.
There was a paradigm shift, one that even Jungkook could sense when the three of them played
their games together, although he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. It almost felt as if he was third
wheeling.
“Going to bed early,” Jungkook lied, signing off after just an hour of League.
Taehyung and Seokjin didn’t mind one bit.
The two texted from sun up till sun down, phone calls prolonging late into the night. By the end of
spring both boys were in the thick of finals, and neither could fit in the time for another visit. But
they held onto the promises of summer.
It was an unspoken, unanimous agreement that any previously established rules were dissolved.
What’s the point? He mused one evening as he relished in the sound of Taehyung’s laughter
through the receiver. We will never be just friends.
He was on cloud nine and he never wanted to come down. But every time the thought of going
home crossed his mind, he’d come crashing down to earth again. Waves of panic with every
missed call, texts from his mother asking when he’d come back for dinner. “I’m busy,” he
answered repeatedly. “Finals.”
Perhaps it was childish of him, but he wanted to live in that bliss for as long as he possibly could.
---
It was the last week of June when his brother called. Seokjung never rang. Only texted, and even
that was a rarity. The last message they’d exchanged was back in April; something about who was
going to pick up groceries for their parents.
“Oh, hyung. What’s up?” Seokjin asked innocently, heart already racing.
“You’re not picking up mom and dad’s calls, are you?”
“I just don’t have the time.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Listen. They’re driving me crazy now. You need to come home. It’s been too
long.”
“I’m still in finals mode.”
“Yeah but school’s out in a couple days. So just come back this weekend.”
“Hyung,” Seokjin sighed in desperation.
“Jin. You know that it’s easier just to get it over with, right?”
A pause.
“Fine. See you on Saturday.”
“Dress nicely. Apparently mom and dad wanna go out to eat.”
---
On Saturday evening Seokin boarded a city bus back home. He meandered to the very back row
and plopped down in his usual seat, awkwardly rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. It was
sticky hot inside the vehicle, the air conditioning obviously kaput, the only relief being the small
slit in the dirty window.
He was on the phone with Taehyung, the boy’s soft voice helping to calm his skittish nerves. His
leg which moments before had been shaking violently was now reduced to a slight bounce, his
eyes fixed on the familiar scenery passing him by. Taehyung was walking through the streets of
Daegu, on his way to meet some friends for a night out. But he’d insisted he had time to squeeze in
a quick phone call with Seokjin first.
It made Seokjin’s heart flutter, the way he chattered animatedly on the other line, breathing labored
as he crossed through noisy traffic.
“And then afterwards Hyungsik and I are gonna meet Seojoon and Dahyun for karaoke, so I
probably won’t be done until like really, really late, but if you’re still up we should still talk.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just have fun. Don’t drink too much like last time though. Wandering
around the streets like a crazy person.”
“My friends will be with me this time, silly.”
“Mm.”
“You’re worried about me?”
“Shut up.”
“Are you excited to eat dinner with your family?”
“Gotta be honest, no.”
“Why? They always take you to such nice places. Do you know where you’re going this time?”
“Not sure,” Seokjin mumbled, itching to change the subject. “Just told me to dress up a little bit.”
“Ooohhhhhhhh,” the boy cackled. “What’re you wearing?” Seokjin swore he could almost hear
Taehyung waggling his eyebrows.
“Mmm. Shirt, pants, shoes.”
“Can you be more specific, for crying out loud?”
“Light blue dress shirt, black pants, black shoes. Are you happy now?”
“I’ll just let my imagination run free.”
An embarrassed chuckle.
“Guess where I am, Jin.”
“Where?”
“The lake. I’m walking past it right now.”
“God, I miss that place.”
“I know. Remember how you said you’d want to come here in the summer? I was right, Jin. It’s
beautiful. There’s so many people out tonight. And you know all the cherry blossoms? They’re
gone now. All the leaves are green.”
“I wish I could see.”
“I’ll take pictures for you, I promise. Speaking of pictures, I don’t think I’ve told you this yet.
Hyungsik’s uncle owns a photography studio in Daegu and they need an assistant really soon, since
it’s wedding season and they’re going to be busy. He wants to meet with me next week to talk
about it. If it goes well they’ll ask me to stay for the summer. But the thing is, I want to go back to
Seoul, I really do. But this is a great opportunity, you know? I just-”
“You want this?”

“I...I do? But I want to go back to Seoul too, I…”
“Do what’s best for you, Tae.”
“Okay, so coming back to Seoul to see you? Will do.”
A chuckle. “Taehyung-ah.”
“Seokjin-ah. Hey. Guess what. I’m walking past the place where you almost kissed me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember when we were leaving the lake? And you suddenly stopped in between all those trees
and you stared at me like you wanted to suck my lips off but you pulled me into a hug instead?
Like you chickened out, remember?”
He remembered everything about that night. The pink curtains that drew to a close around them,
the perfume of flowers. But Taehyung was wrong; Seokjin hadn’t planned on kissing him. He’d
only wanted to hold him. To feel for a moment, no matter how fleeting, that Taehyung was truly
his.
The line between right and wrong no longer existed. They had forged over it long ago. And now
they were simply walking hand in hand with no clear destination in mind. Walking in circles. But
at the very least, together.
---
It was odd. As soon as he stepped through the door he could detect the scent of cooking wafting in
from the kitchen. Some sort of grilled meat. Weren’t we supposed to go out-
He’d barely made it past the foyer when his eyes fell upon the scene in the living room. Any and
all questions swirling in his head were immediately answered. There was his father, sitting in his
usual chair. But he was talking to someone. Sitting across from him were two figures, and although
he could only see the backs of their heads, he already knew what lay in store for him. A mop of
grey speckled hair and next to him, that of a girl, tresses pulled into a respectable ponytail. The
moment all three heads turned to Seokjin, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.
“Hello,” he bowed a polite ninety degrees before straightening up again.
He recognized their guests; the prestigious Lee family. The father being the CEO of TXT
Corporation, a real estate behemoth based in Seoul, and Mr. Kim’s long-time friend from
university. And the girl, Jia. The only child of Mr. and Mrs. Lee. They’d crossed paths once, many
years ago at a company function. Aside from exchanging names and standard formalities, nothing
had come to fruition otherwise.
But this second meeting. Seokjin knew exactly what was to come.
“Seokjin-ah!” His mother called after him, hurrying into the main den from the kitchen. “I know
we said we’d go out but we’ve had a change of plans, okay? The Lees were in the neighborhood
and they wanted to stop by. You remember Jia? And her father?”
“Yes, yes, we’ve met,” he nodded, forcing a smile. Yet on the inside he was fuming. Furious that
for one, he was dressed so formally just to have dinner in his own home. And second, that he was
blatantly tricked and lied to to get here.
“Do you need help setting up, mom?”
“No, honey. Go in the living room and talk. I’ve got it.”
“No really, it’s okay,” he insisted, giving the trio a small nod before making his way to the kitchen.
But his mother only shooed him away in annoyance.
“Go and talk to them, Seokjin. Or at least go get your brother,” she murmured before turning away
and stirring the contents of the pot on the stove.
He chose the latter option. Striding past the living room, he traveled down the long hallway until
he reached the second doorway on the left.
Part of him was angry at his brother too, as he knocked thrice, each knock resounding louder than
the last. There was the muffled sound of Seokjung shuffling towards the door before finally
opening it, revealing his usual poker face.
“Hey. Welcome back.”
“What’s going on, hyung.” There was a slight edge in his voice as he asked this, his eyes narrowed
to a glare. “You never told me there’d be guests. Out of all people I thought you’d give me a
warning, no?”
“Yah, you punk. You think I’d hide things like this from you? It’s a surprise for me too. I don’t
even know who she is.”
“Is she for me or for you?” He asked, despite already knowing the answer. Seokjung was still
dressed in his wrinkly pajamas. Seokjin, his parents had ascertained, looked positively pristine.
“Trust me. Mom and dad gave up on me a long time ago.”
---
Dinner conversation consisted mostly of the parents chatting up a storm while the children sat
obediently to the side, pouring liquor into emptied glasses and nodding along when needed. Jia’s
father apologized for Mrs. Lee’s absence. “She’s on a project in Berlin. Won’t be back for another
month.” From what Seokjin knew Mrs. Lee was also a powerful woman, a top executive of a
luxury brand whose name escaped his mind.
Much like the two brothers, the girl sitting across from them hardly spoke, only pausing from her
chewing to smile toothlessly or to answer any questions directed her way.
“Seokjin is attending Konkuk, Jia. And you’re going to Kookmin, right? You’re not too far from
each other. Have you been to his campus before?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’d love to see Konkuk though. I heard it’s beautiful.”
“It’s really lovely, especially in the summertime. Seokjin-ah, you should show Jia around when
you have the chance.”
“I’d love to,” he lied through his teeth. “Come visit whenever you’re free.”
The meal dragged on senselessly. Once the wine bottles were cleared, fresh liquor was brought out
from the cellar. The brothers each nursed a glass of whiskey, neat. Jia opted for a splash of it as
well but it was evident she disliked the taste of it, leaving her serving mostly untouched.
Seokjin, to his parents’ apparent frustration, conversed mostly with her father. Topics ranging from
the challenges of property development in the city to the current political climate. Seokjung sat
numbly to his side, eventually excusing himself from the table as he’d previously made plans to
meet up with friends downtown. Jia sat to her father’s right, seemingly listening to the conversation
although never engaging.
It was as the hands of the clock-face ticked to ten that Mr. Lee finally brought the evening to a
close. “It’s getting late. Apologies for overstaying, but Jia and I better get going.”
“Not at all,” Seokjin’s father replied. “You should come over more often, hyung. Bring Jia, too. Or
next time maybe we can go to you.”
Hyung. It was fascinating, how Seokjin’s father spoke to his former sunbae with such reverence.
From what he could recall, they had gone to the same university and met through a finance club.
Fast forward thirty years and the two hot-shots were now setting up their children at the dinner
table.
“Seokjin. Why don’t you and Jia exchange numbers? That way you can keep in touch.”
Up until that very moment, he’d done a pretty swell job in upkeeping a facade. And perhaps if he
took a couple of deep breaths, if he tried to approach the situation objectively, he’d be able to
clench his teeth and push through the act. Just give her your number. What’s the big deal? But he
couldn’t help it, the waves of anger rolling over him and pinning him under. He wanted to scoot
his chair back, stand up and walk away from the whole affair. Instead he remained seated, fingers
curling into a fist against his thigh, mind drifting to a time when Taehyung’s hand used to find his
underneath the table. The feeling of his warm palm pressed against his own. His sweet lips upon
his. His pretty, amber tiger eyes. And suddenly he could feel his heart twisting upon the realization
that reality was staring him hard in the face. A quiet, wide-eyed reality in the form of a girl who
didn’t deserve what was about to happen to her.
There was a long pause, too long for his mother not to address it.
“Seokjin, honey. Daydreaming again?” She chuckled nervously.
He finally cleared his throat and spoke unwaveringly. “No.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to.”
Another bout of silence, this time excruciating as her father flashed red in humiliation, as the girl
nibbled on her lip and glanced down to her lap. He knew he was being cruel; none of this was her
fault, and if anything the two of them were trapped in the same boat. But perhaps he could save
them both if he flipped it over. If he overturned the damned thing so they could both swim out to
open waters.
He refused to meet his parents in the eye. But he didn’t need to look to know that both were
positively fuming, steam practically blowing out of their ears. He could hear his father scoffing.
“It’s okay,” his mother interjected hurriedly. “We have your contact of course so we’ll reach out to
arrange something. Kids, you know. Might be too busy, you know how this time of the year is. Our
Seokjinnie, he’s shy-”
“I’m not. I just don’t-”
“Yes, yes of course,” Jia’s father played along, cutting Seokjin off before he could finish his
sentence. “Next time come to our place. It’ll be our treat.”
Jia finally glanced up from her lap, eyes locking resolutely with Seokjin’s. And while he expected
a look of pain and confusion, he received instead one of curiosity.
The two families exchanged cordial, albeit awkward goodbyes, the father-daughter duo excusing
themselves from the penthouse, door closing behind them with a soft click. His father wasted no
time in confrontation.
“Sit. Down.”
Mr. Kim was a quiet man, rarely raising his voice at his family. Even in his anger he’d exercise
self-control, keeping calm and collected in stature. That night was an exception. Taking large
strides over to the dining room, he slammed his fist down on the table, plates and glasses clattering
noisily, sending Seokjin into a shock. It was just the two of them in the room now; his mother was
preoccupied with cleaning duties in the kitchen.
“There’s nothing else for me to say. I’ve already said everything.”
“Sit down RIGHT NOW, KIM SEOKJIN.” Another slam to the table, this time even louder than
before. “You are NOT going ANYWHERE, UNDERSTAND ME?”
He refused to sit. He merely stood on the opposite side, determined not to break eye contact or
show any hints of weakness.
“How DARE you humiliate me in front of them like that,” he spat. “HOW DARE YOU-”
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do.”
Part of him felt a twinge of guilt, watching his father trying to gather his composure, the vein in his
temple throbbing dangerously. He was terrified that if he kept pushing the envelope further the
thing might rightly burst. But he too was flooded with rage, blood coursing through him like an
unquenchable fire.
“You’re. Just. Exchanging. Numbers. ” His father seethed, voice quieter but if anything more
menacing.
“No. Because I know where this is going and I don’t want any part in it.”
“Okay, okay. Fine.” He let out a dry laugh. “We know you’re not dumb. You’re smart. You
figured it out. Good for you. But she’s smart too. Smart, well off, pretty, nice, what’s not to like?
Unless you have someone else? Something you’re not telling us?”
He was cornered. If he confessed to seeing someone else they’d want to meet said person
immediately. Pick them apart piece by piece, perhaps even hire a private investigator to sift through
their dirt. So he lied.
“I don’t have anyone. And that’s my choice, whether I want to be with someone or not. I hope
you’ll respect that, appa.”
Another scoff from the older man as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Funny how you kids
these days are always talking about these...these choices. Sometimes there are things in life you
just HAVE to do. Like settling down. Building a family. You may think you’re young now. But
these next several years will fly by and WHEN you take over the company after graduation you
will NOT have time to date. We are trying to HELP you. And you don’t appreciate-”
“Why are you talking like you know everything?”
“SON, DON’T TALK BACK TO ME IN THAT DAMN TONE. You don’t think we know better
than you do? Who do you think you are? You know NOTHING-”
“BUT YOU DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING.” Seokjin snapped, his entire body shaking as he
spoke. “WHY CAN’T I MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS? I’M MY OWN PERSON TOO. HOW
COME YOU DON’T CARE AT ALL ABOUT SEOKJUNG HYUNG? WHY IS IT SO
DIFFERENT-”
“WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO YOUR FATHER LIKE THIS?” His mother interrupted,
storming in from the kitchen, hands dripping with soap. She too never yelled at the boy. Seokjung
got a good amount of ass whooping as a child, but Seokjin was raised like glass, like fine china.
“SINCE WHEN? WHAT HAS COLLEGE DONE TO YOU? WHERE IS MY SWEET BOY?”
“I’m not doing this,” he persisted through her cries of hysteria.
“JUST TRY .”
“I CAN’T.”
“You WILL try.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t do this.”
“Then I’m telling you this now. You have no choice, son.”
---
He didn’t have a clue as to where to go after he stormed out of the apartment with just a cell phone
in possession. He couldn’t call Taehyung, as the boy was out with his buddies and he didn’t want to
ruin his night. So somewhat on a whim he phoned his brother instead, sighing in relief when he
picked up on the other line.
“Hyung, where’d you go?”
“Myeongdong. I’m drinking with my friends. Why?”
“Hyung, can I join?”
“Uh...sure? I’ll send you the address. Hold on.”
He took a cab to Myeongdong where he located his brother and said friends in a dingy bar, ordered
enough drinks to kill a small cow, then proceeded to throw up on the curb outside. The rest of the
night was a blur for him, memories hazy and discontinuous.
The only thing he could remember was when the two finally stumbled through the door at four in
the morning, collapsing onto the bathroom floor, Seokjin leaning over the toilet and sobbing,
Seokjung sitting behind him, wordlessly stroking his back like lulling a baby to sleep.
Chapter End Notes

I have been having a hard time editing, especially as the chapters get heavier. I will try
to be more diligent about it.
Thoughts? Always love hearing them.

Chapter Notes
His mother approached him at the breakfast table the next morning, handing him a small note with
two different phone numbers on it.
“Jia’s number is at the top, her father’s number is at the bottom. Apologize.”
In the sobering light of day, with all of his liquid courage gone, he resigned to his parents’ wishes
and called the girl’s father first, apologizing profusely over the phone and blaming his behavior on
sheer nerves. He opted to text the girl instead, knowing that a phone call after such events was
perhaps too close for comfort. Her response was pleasant, simple, forgiving. It made him feel all
the more guilty.
With school out between the small window of July to August, the boy had no time to waste in
regards to summer plans. He’d spend his Mondays through Fridays as an “intern” at his father’s
company, BH corporation. He had to start somewhere if he wanted to learn the ropes.
It was his last Sunday of freedom before his imminent work week. The atmosphere in the house
was still tense. With Seokjung holed up in his room and his mother hardly glancing in his
direction, he figured it’d be best to take a walk outside. Once his internship began he wouldn’t
have the luxury of wandering around anyway.
Slipping on a thin tee and light jeans he stepped out of his building and into the sweltering heat,
walking leisurely towards the coffee shop by the park that he and Taehyung frequented in high
school. It was nearly noon and yet the streets of his neighborhood remained largely abandoned;
most either too hungover or hiding from the hot weather. Nearing the familiar storefront, he took a
peek in through the glass and saw that his favorite noona was working behind the counter,
currently preoccupied with the espresso machine.
The door flew open with a tiny “ding,” signaling his entrance and prompting the noona to turn in
his direction. “Seokjin-ah!” She cried with a bright smile. “You forgot about me, didn’t you?”
There were short queue waiting to pay but she didn’t seem to care that they were listening.
“Sorry noona,” he cooed sweetly in response. “I’ve been away at university. I’m on my break
though!”
“Summer break now, huh?” She replied, ringing up the customer and handing them their latte.
“Yeah. ‘Break.’ I’ll start work tomorrow, actually.”
“Aish. You kids need to live a little. Where are you working?”
“My dad’s company.”
“Ahh,” she nodded, entering in his usual order without asking. “About that time, huh? You’re
growing up so fast, it scares me.”
“I know right?” He laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaning on the counter. “But
noona, all these years have gone by and you still look the same as when I first met you.”
“Shut up,” she mumbled, cheeks a rosy pink.
He wasn’t certain how old this noona was exactly. By the looks of it, close to thirty. And what he’d
said moments before wasn’t entirely truthful; she’d aged a little bit over the time he’d known her,
but seeing her face light up at the compliment was worth the white lie.
“Where’s TaeTae?” She asked, changing the subject.
“In Daegu. He should be coming back soon.”
“I miss seeing the two of you together. The cutest little sleepy heads walking into my cafe.”
“I miss him too.”
“You guys keep in touch?” She smiled, handing him his cappuccino.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Come back with him next time.”
He sat down by the windows, relishing in the combination of the cool draft against his back and
the warm sun upon his fingertips. Blowing over the surface of his coffee, he nearly sent the foam
flying when his phone buzzed loudly against the countertop, a text message coming in from the
devil himself.
Taehyungie: God.
Taehyungie: Jin. Save me. I’m dying
Taehyungie: I don’t know why I drank so much, haha
Taehyungie: Good morning my love. Or afternoon. God I’m messed up
Seokjinnie: Morning cutie, haha
Seokjinnie: Glad you’re alive at least
Seokjinnie: Did you have fun last night?
Taehyungie: Yeahhhhh. I missed you.
Taehyungie: What are you up to?
Seokjinnie: I’m at the coffee shop
Taehyungie: Great, I’m gonna call you. Hold on.
He picked up after one ring.
“Hey you,” he mumbled, breaking into a grin the moment Taehyung croaked back.
“Don’t I sound sexy right now?”
“I’m a little turned on, yeah.”
A sheepish laugh. “Is noona there?”

“Yeah, she’s here. Want me to tell her you said hi?”
“Yes please. WAIT. NO. Wait till I come back and we’ll go again together. Let’s surprise her.”
“What do you mean, come back?” Seokjin questioned. “What about that photography job?”
“Aish. That’s this Wednesday. I’m meeting him this Wednesday.”
“What’s with the sigh, Tae? Don’t you want this?”
“I mean...kinda? I don’t know. Honestly, right now, all I want is to go back to Seoul. Go to that
coffee shop and sit next to you. Say hi to noona. I don’t know. Is that wrong of me?”
He chewed on his lip, thinking of the right words to say to his friend. He too was torn; on one hand
desperately yearning to see him again, and on the other-
“Tae. You can do that anytime. This opportunity is now . Take it while you can, okay?”
A long pause.
“I really want to go home.”
“I really want you to try. ”
“But I’m never gonna be able to see you.”
And maybe that’s for the better.
----
Most of the senior employees at his father’s company had practically watched the boy grow up, so
needless to say Seokjin’s first day at work was somewhat awkward. He was without a doubt both
the newest and youngest to join the ranks, and yet every worker he encountered was eerily
respectful to him. Perhaps they meant to be welcoming, but if anything it had the opposite effect; it
was isolating.
For his very first summer at the office headquarters, he was to rotate through various departments
to get a sense of everyone’s duties and how the company operated holistically. After his father
introduced him to the directors, team leaders, all the necessary higher ups, he was sent to work with
the finance department for his first several weeks of “employment.”
His father never discussed it with him explicitly, but it was evident that Seokjin was to blend in as
much as possible. An ordinary desk and a humble computer was arranged for his workspace.
Special treatment was out of the question. He was to learn everything just as a regular rookie
would.
It was a difficult concept for his teammates to grasp as they continued to tiptoe around him, the
usual office hierarchy deemed obsolete and tossed out of the window. He was lucky that his
immediate superiors were fairly young. With the exception of several managers, most of the staff
ranged from mid twenties to mid thirties. If he’d bumped into any of these people in the streets of
Seoul it’d be easy to mistaken each other for the same age.
His team consisted of four guys and one girl, an imbalance typical in the finance world. The token
girl’s name was Nayoung, an individual of sullen disposition who seemed perpetually irritated by
her fellow teammates, all of whom happened to be a least half a decade her junior. The rest of the
boys; Beomseok, Jaehyuk, Yechan, and Kangmin seemed sweet and personable at first glance, but
Seokjin knew better than to fall for their charms. He often passed the four of them clustered
together by the coffee station, cackling at something on one of their cell phones, then scattering at
the sight of the CEO’s son.
It was Wednesday afternoon as he was refilling his coffee tumbler that he received a text message
from Taehyung. “ I got the job.” It just so happened that the fabulous four were huddled in the
corner by the refrigerator, monitoring the score of an ongoing basketball match. They were so
engrossed in the gameplay that none of them bothered to make a run for it upon spotting Seokjin.
“You like basketball, Seokjin-ssi?” He could hear Yechan calling for him.
But it was as if all sounds surrounding him were muffled as his eyes scanned over the same four
words on his screen over and over again.
I should be happy for him, he thought to himself, looking up from his phone and mustering a
smile.
“Don’t really follow sports,” he responded cordially before capping his tumbler and walking out of
the room.
And I am. I’m happy for him. But I can’t say the same for myself.
---
It took some convincing on Seokjin’s part to get Taehyung to say “yes” to the gig. He ducked into
an empty stairwell immediately after receiving the text, speaking with hushed tones into the
receiver, saying one thing and feeling entirely another. Come back, his heart screamed while the
words “Stay in Daegu,” escaped from his lips instead.
Taehyung’s role of Hyungsik’s uncle’s assistant was a wide umbrella of responsibilities; helping
with photo development, administrative tasks, booking appointments, actual shoots, carrying
camera equipment, facilitating set-ups, directing the bridal party. With his schedule packed and his
hands full, the prospect of returning to Seoul even for a weekend seemed like a far-fetched
proposition. Saturdays and Sundays became prime working hours for the boy, while corporate
weekday hours held Seokjin captive.
Seokjin toiled earnestly, tirelessly, even when it wasn’t required of him. His team leader frequently
stayed late at the office, and while the man insisted that Seokjin could go home at normal hours,
the boy refused and chose to occupy himself with busy work instead. Hence he became quite well-
liked amongst both his superiors and equals, often praised for his humble attitude and his relentless
work ethic. As much as he resented his father for forcibly putting him in such a position, still he
wanted to make the old man proud. For the Kim family reputation to truly shine. And it helped that
the job took his mind off of other things; like the fact that the boy he loved remained a two hour
train ride away. That each of them were so wrapped up in their own lives, as if two lines that had
once intersected were now simply running parallel.
Taehyung was often tired. Aside from engagement shoots during the weekdays, he was pummeled
with back to back weddings on the weekends. The events would occupy his entire day, draining
him of all his energy. “Let’s FaceTime,” he’d insist, only to fall asleep ten minutes into the call.
The sight of the boy with his head propped against his arm, shoulders rising and falling through the
tiny screen; it twisted Seokjin’s heart in a way he couldn’t explain.
---
The clock on his living room wall ticked to 5:55 in the evening, its tiny hands the only sound in the
empty apartment. Seokjin lay sprawled out upon the large sectional, head propped on two
cushions, eyes fixed upon his cell phone screen as he waited for Jimin’s text signaling he was
near.
He was home alone on a Saturday evening, the rest of his family meeting up with the Parks for a
nice dinner downtown. “While they’re at dinner,” Jimin had suggested. “Why don’t I come over to
your place, and we can order chicken and beer and actually enjoy ourselves?” To which Seokjin
readily agreed. Jimin’s plan sounded much better.
Jimin had advised he’d arrive around 6:00PM. The kid had a knack for tardiness, so Seokjin tacked
on an additional thirty minutes. So really, he’ll be here by 6:30. Yet as his eyes gazed upon the
golden sun filtering in through the floor to ceiling glass, his heart jumped at the sound of the
doorbell piercing through the silence.
“On time for once?” Seokjin mumbled, peeling himself off the couch and stumbling towards the
door.
Only when he pulled the door back, he saw none other than a breathless, beaming Kim Taehyung.
“You’re home alone, right?” Were the first words out of the boy’s mouth.
“Ye-”
He was cut off mid-sentence; Taehyung tackling him, locking lips as they careened blindly through
the living room, eventually down the hallway to Seokjin’s bedroom, hands grasping, lip biting,
neither bothering to close the door as Taehyung threw Seokjin onto the bed, crawling on top of him
like a tiger going in for the kill. Seokjin’s mind was running a thousand miles a minute: Is this real,
or am I dreaming? How is he here?
With a strong twist of his torso he flipped the boy onto his back instead, holding himself upright by
pinning both hands on either side of Taehyung’s face. For a moment he simply hovered, trying to
catch his breath as he soaked in the sight of his boxy smile, his crescent eyes, his messy hair falling
into said eyes.
“How...how the hell did you get here?”
“I literally only have two hours.”
“Why?” Seokjin asked as Taehyung’s arms reached upwards, looping around his neck to bring him
down for another kiss.
“Hyungsik and his uncle came down for a photoshoot. We had a client in Seoul. I was helping
them out all day but now they’re at dinner and I told them I had to slip out for a moment, but I have
to go back but DID I GET YOU GOOD OR WHAT?”
“I’m still processing all of this,” Seokjin grinned, leaning down so that their noses were touching.
All of it felt incredibly surreal and unbelievably scandalous, that of all places the two were
intertwined in the seclusion of his parents’ home. Taehyung had come over countless times during
their high school years, but never like this.
“I’m guessing Jimin’s not actually coming, huh?” He laughed, shaking his head. He should’ve
known this was another one of his best friend’s schemes.
“Nope,” Taehyung giggled gleefully. “Just me. Is that okay?”
“No offense to Jimin,” Seokjin whispered. “But I couldn’t be happier.”
“He’ll kill you for saying that.”
They both chuckled at the thought of a raging Jimin.
“Two hours,” Seokjin mumbled against the boy’s lips. “What’re we gonna do for two hours, hm?”
“This.”
And just like that their lips molded together again, soft and plush and divine, warm wet tongues
meeting in the middle to deepen the exchange. It didn’t help that Taehyung was dressed in his
professional attire, a fitted black button down tucked nicely into a pair of dark jeans. Like a true
photographer’s assistant. He wanted nothing more than to rip all of the aforementioned clothes
clean off of him, to leave marks all over his body, to claim him as his own. But instead the two
took it nice and slow, Taehyung wrapping his legs around Seokjin’s waist, the two sharing quiet
words in between kisses.
“How was the photoshoot today?”
“Miserable.” A giggle. “The bride was sweating and complaining so much and the groom was a
total ass about it, too.”
“Your patience amazes me.” Another kiss. “I don’t know how you deal with these idiots all the
time.”
“You don’t know how badly I wanted to scream.” Kiss. “And run to you. I’ve been waiting all
day.”
He pulled away once more, admiring the beautiful boy beneath him, tracing his pretty smile with
his thumb, diving back in to the crook of his neck and releasing a deep sigh.
“Two hours,” Seokjin repeated.
Without warning he rolled onto his side, scooping Taehyung off of his back so that the two were
lying face to face, mere inches apart.
He was a bit sweaty, which Seokjin only found to be even more endearing. Ever so gently he
pushed the boy’s hair back from his forehead, running his hand along his cheek, chuckling at his
doe-eyed expression before pulling him into his chest; so close, so tightly that Taehyung’s laughter
was muffled. “I’m suffocating, Jin.”
“Sorry.”
They continued their little ritual of kissing and talking, mostly Taehyung ranting about the wedding
and all of its successes and mishaps. He spoke of the insane heat, the dizzying effect of it and how
he nearly passed out in the middle of ceremony. How Hyungsik took care of him, bringing him
water and fanning him until he regained his color.
“I’m glad you have someone to take care of you,” Seokjin mumbled, pausing for a moment.
“Yeah. I’m thankful.”
“Seems like he really cares for you.”
“He’s a great friend.”
And there it was, cutting through the bliss; a strange uneasiness taking hold of Seokjin.
“Stop chewing on your lip,” Taehyung mumbled.
“Hmm?”
The boy leaned over, giving Seokjin’s lip a playful nibble. “That’s my job.”
As if determined to prove it to Seokjin, he climbed on top of him so that he was straddling his
thighs, diving back in with a fresh aggression, hungry kisses of grazing teeth and labored breathing,
hands roaming on hot skin, Seokjin reaching to give Taehyung’s ass a firm squeeze, causing him to
hitch forward before subsequently giggling.
“Fuck,” Taehyung breathed as Seokjin tangled his hand in his hair, pulling him closer in an almost
animalistic manner. He could feel that the boy on top of him was already hard, slowly grinding his
erection against his thigh, eventually picking up the pace to a desperate rutting.
The thing that drove Seokjin wild was just how vocal Taehyung could be. If he liked something, he
had to express it. And when it came to the bedroom, this was usually in the form of moaning. In
the heat of July sans AC; slick of sweat, shirt riding up over the stomach, as Taehyung gently
nipped at his exposed collar bone, he found his hand snaking past the curve of the boy’s hips,
down and under until he placed his palm over his throbbing bulge, giving it a good squeeze,
causing Taehyung to buck his hips forward and cry out his name.
“JIN-”
Yet just as Taehyung was about to moan something else incoherent, there came from another room
in the house a soft click of the door.
In an instant both heads jerked up, the crude noises coming to an immediate stop, looks of horror
smothering the clouds of lust. They’d found themselves in a somewhat hairy situation before, but
this; everything else simply paled in comparison to this. For Seokjin’s bedroom door had remained
wide open the whole time, and now as they fixed their eyes upon its gaping frame, neither could
gather the courage to make the first move towards it.
“You...you said no one would be home?”
It was difficult for Seokjin to speak altogether. “Y-yes. That’s what...I…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence, choosing to slowly sit himself upwards, Taehyung following suit
and kneeling numbly by his side. How familiar this scenario was to the both of them. How
unfortunate that it was in fact, familiar.
They sat there for a good two minutes more, waiting for further sound in the house before Seokjin
finally peeled himself from the bed, tiptoeing towards the doorframe and eventually out of it into a
dim hallway. All of the lights in the living room, the kitchen, and the common areas remained off.
Then who the hell could it have been? An intruder? He swallowed thickly, hyper aware of his own
breathing and trying his best to steady it.
But he didn’t have to travel far to figure out the source of the sound. For pouring out of the crack
beneath his door was the lamplight from Seokjung’s room, muted bass of a hip hop song blaring
from the inside.
Seokjung hyung.
It could be worse.
But it could be much, much better.

He stood in front of his hyung’s closed door, covered in a cold sweat, fists trembling as his mind
warred over what to do next. Part of him wanted to knock, wanted to look his older brother in the
face, wanted to clear the air right there and then. Yet the other half of him wanted to hurl at the
very thought of confrontation.
And so he retreated back to his room, leaned against the open door frame, eyeing a fretful
Taehyung still perched at the edge of his bed, black shirt slipping off of his shoulder revealing a
good length of collarbone. Even with the look of worry etched across his face, the sadness in his
expression, he was beautiful.
“It’s my hyung,” Seokjin whispered hoarsely, to which Taehyung nodded.
They couldn’t call it relief. It was simply the lesser of two evils.
Chapter End Notes
What did y'all think? Anyone expect this? Haha.
If there's a particular part that stuck out to you as well, please feel free to share in the
comments. I'm always curious and love hearing your feedback.
Chapter Notes
This is going to be a short chapter, since I am updating more frequently. Enjoy.
With only an hour left of their rendezvous they decided to step out of the apartment, into the thick
of summer in an attempt to walk off their troubled thoughts.
Despite the pressing heat of July folding into August, there were a fair amount of respectable
upper-class families on their post-dinner strolls, several of them nodding in Seokjin’s direction as
they passed, having known the boy since he was quite young.
They walked in a heavy silence, passing the familiar cafe which was now darkened and empty.
They paused at the entryway of the park before meandering around the bubbling fountain, only to
find their usual bench occupied by another couple.
He licked his lips in frustration, desperately yearning for a quiet place to sit down, to process, to
talk things over. But with their options increasingly limited, it left them no choice but to continue
plowing onward.
Seokjin was troubled, and deeply so. It was neither of our faults, he tried to rationalize. Just two
young lovers, driven by wild passion and inconvenienced by sheer stupidity. If only they had
closed the door. If only they’d controlled their hormones. If only, if only, if only.
In the three going on four years Taehyung had known Seokjin, he’d never seen his friend this
unraveled, this undone. Kim Seokjin never cracked. Everyone else could be falling apart, but he’d
surely be the one piecing them back together. Always with a calm, almost church-like demeanor.
There had only been a handful of incidents where he’d seen Seokjin like this; most of which
involved Taehyung himself.
So of course, it was Taehyung who jumped the gun and spoke first. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out.
They had wandered down a narrow path gilded by bamboo trees, lush and tall, creating a dense
archway to conceal them from prying eyes. Upon hearing Taehyung’s apology Seokjin came to a
halt, turning so that the two were face to face, the taller mustering an unconvincing smile.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I was dumb,” Taehyung began frantically. “I barged into your home, I was impulsive, I wasn’t
think-”
“Tae, no. It’s my fault. I should’ve closed the door.”
“I just thought...Jimin and I, we...we planned this out so well,” Taehyung trailed off, at a loss for
words. For no matter how much Seokjin tried to hide behind his nonchalance, the devastation in
his eyes was undeniable.
“I’m just happy to see you.”
It was hard to believe what he was saying.
From beyond the green canopy they could hear the muffled voices of passerbys, the laughter of
children as they played, the crickets singing songs to one another in the late evening haze. It was
too beautiful of a night to be this anxious. Taehyung cleared his throat and tried again.
“Does your brother know?”
“Hmm?”
“About everything. Not just...not just what happened back there. About us.”
“Nope.” Seokjin sounded almost casual, and Taehyung hated it.
“You...you didn’t get the chance to talk just now, right?”

“I didn’t, no.”
The entire exchange Seokjin had kept his gaze fixed on his shoes, his voice soft and low. So when
he finally looked up with a sense of urgency, Taehyung felt his own heart leap to his throat.
“Tae. Can I be honest with you?”
He nodded.
“You know that...” He inhaled sharply, eyes glassy and fogging over by the second. “No
matter...no matter how badly I want you, I can’t have you. You know that right?” And still there
was that silly little smile on his lips, even as the first tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off
his chin.
“Jin,” Taehyung exhaled, startled at the sight of the boy actually crying. “Is-is this because of your
brother? It can’t be that bad, can it? I mean let’s say Seokjung hyung knows. He’s not gonna rat
you out to your parents, he’s not like that. And if he knows that it’s me...I mean he likes me, right?
Wouldn’t he be understanding of everything? It’ll be okay-”
“My family isn’t like your family.”
This much Taehyung knew to be true. Even in his youth he recognized that his parents were one in
a million. A father who taught him that it was okay for boys to cry, to wear his emotions on his
sleeve. A mother who was proud of him no matter how different he was from the others, choosing
to celebrate his unique quirks and charms. When he was finally old enough to figure out his
sexuality in middle school, he wasted no time in announcing it to the both of them, knowing full
well that they’d accept him as they always had.
He couldn’t fathom a parent reacting any other way.
“But your family...they love you so much, you know that?” Taehyung pleaded. “They love you the
most, I can tell. They’d never hurt you.”
“There are things I haven’t told you.”

“So then tell me,” he murmured timidly, latching his pinky around Seokjin’s finger and swinging
their hands back and forth. “And we’ll figure this out together.”
“We’re walking towards a dead end,” he whispered, choking back sobs. “I really need you to
understand every word that I’m saying. So listen, like really listen, Tae. I’ve been selfish and
stupid. Wanted to make myself believe things could work out between us so I could hold onto you
a little longer.”
“Are you saying there’s absolutely no way we can be together?”
“Yes.”
“How can you say that when we haven’t even tried?”
“Trying would only hurt us even more.”
“So then let’s get hurt together.”
To which Seokjin merely shook his head before resting it with a defeated thump on Taehyung’s
shoulder, tears quickly soaking through the cotton of his shirt.
“Whatever happens, I wanna be by your side, okay?” He practically begged, reaching a hand to the
boy’s back and rubbing up and down his spine. “Whatever you’ll have to go through, I’ll bear that
burden with you, okay? You’re not gonna go through it alone. You have me. I promise you. I’ll
never leave you.”
“Tae.” Please stop liking me. For your sake. For both of our sakes, he wanted to say.
But Taehyung had other ideas. “I love you, you dummy.”
He continued to swing their arms as if the repetitive motion could somehow convince Seokjin to
change his mind. He waited until his tears subsided, as the trembling of his shoulders lulled to
steadier breathing. Eventually Seokjin gathered his composure and straightened his back, eyes still
downcast as he wiped away at his raw cheeks.
“You should get going soon.”
He didn’t bother letting go of Taehyung’s hand as he turned on his heel to lead them further down
the narrow path. But within seconds he felt Taehyung untangling their fingers, warmth enveloping
his back as the boy pressed up against him, arms wrapping firmly around his torso.
He froze in his place, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt Taehyung tighten his embrace.
“I’ll be with you,” he mumbled into his back. “Whatever happens. It’s me and you, okay?”
“Hyungsik and his uncle will be worried. Let’s get you back.”
---
Taehyungie: We’re leaving Seoul now. I don’t know when I’ll be back again. It was good seeing
you.
Taehyungie: I’m sorry again, for everything that happened. Please don’t dwell on these things
Taehyungie: You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.
Taehyungie: I have so much hope for us. I don’t know why
Taehyungie: I love you so much. I hope you understand that
Seokjinnie: I love you too.
---
The home was still shrouded in darkness upon Seokjin’s return. Flicking on the hallway light he
beelined for the bathroom, splashing cool water onto his face, peering into the mirror and cringing
at the sight of his bloodshot eyes. Pathetic. Their parting hug lingered upon his skin like an
apparition. And being that the two were in public, neither had dared to kiss the other goodbye. He
shook off the traces of regret and wiped himself dry with a towel.
It was perfect timing really, that as he exited the bathroom his brother would open the door of his
bedroom as well.
“H-hyung.”
“Hey,” Seokjung mumbled, ambling past Seokjin who remained paralyzed in his spot. “I brought
leftovers home. Food’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.”
And with that he disappeared behind the bathroom door, leaving his little brother standing in the
middle of the hallway, dumbfounded.
Chapter End Notes
:(
Thoughts? Talk to me.

Chapter Notes
Hi guys! Thanks for waiting. A couple of things I want to mention before we start this
chapter, PLEASE READ! DISCLAIMER INCLUDED!
-T/W: brief mentions of hostile sexism. Please do not read if this makes you
uncomfortable.
-This is a coming of age story, specifically SEOKJIN'S coming of age story. While
this is definitely a Taejin fic, the focus is mainly on Seokjin's growing pains as he
deals with his feelings for Taehyung versus his obligations to his family. Therefore
90% of the fic will be from Seokjin's POV, with the other 10% from Taehyung. When
the perspective switches to Taehyung, it is also done for a very strategic reason. At the
end of the day, I want you to really feel like you're in Seokjin's head.
The excuse of “I’m busy,” was easy to fall back on, for it wasn’t a complete lie. His internship at
BH Corporation kept him occupied five out of the seven days, sometimes even bleeding into
weekends if his managers proposed Hwaeshik for the team. Hwaeshik was undeniably a mandatory
affair for regular employees, but there was a silent consensus that this rule didn’t apply to Seokjin.
But the boy never turned down the opportunity, always joining his colleagues in drunken
merriment, pretending as if he really wanted to be there.
It wasn’t that Taehyung didn’t notice the sudden rift that had appeared between the two. If
anything he was hyper-aware of it, yet he quietly went along with whatever Seokjin felt
comfortable with. Was it to give the boy space? To provide him a bit of relief after that
unspeakable incident? Or was it to convince himself that everything would eventually be peachy
keen, that he didn’t really need to speak up at all?
For their conversations had dissolved to something miserly like this:
Taehyungie: Just finished a shoot. You up?
[Two hours later]
Seokjinnie: Sorry Tae. Still at work. Go to bed, okay?
Taehyungie: Can you squeeze in a quick call?

Seokjinnie: I don’t think so. Working on a project and deadline is tomorrow
Seokjinnie: Just go to sleep
Taehyungie: Oh okay.
Taehyungie: Love you. Goodnight.
Seokjinnie: Night!
This is for your own good, Seokjin thought to himself as he tucked his phone into his pocket, as he
waited for the train’s doors to open before stepping inside.
---
Oddly enough it was the younger employees that seemed less afraid to approach Seokjin. While the
managers kept the boy at an arm’s length, the subordinates warmed to him day by day, particularly
the rowdy group of boys seated in his vicinity. He’d grown closer to them after several Fridays of
Hwaeshik, all of them thoroughly impressed by Seokjin’s ability to sling back shots like water.
“You should go clubbing with us,” Kangmin suggested one day, tilting so far back in his chair he
nearly bumped into Nayoung behind him. “I think you’d be a ladykiller.”
“He’s too young,” Nayoung mumbled, gaze still fixed on her screen. “Don’t drag the poor thing
into this.”
He could count the number of times Nayoung sunbae-nim had held a substantial conversation with
him on a single hand. Yet every time she chose to do so it was always for the sake of his protection.
“Noona,” Jaehyuk tutted. “There’s a first time for everything. Have you been clubbing before,
Seokjin-ssi?” To which he shook his head.
“So come with us,” Kangmin insisted. “We’ll take care of ya.”
“If our Seokjin comes back with so much as a scratch,” Nayoung warned, still not making eye
contact. “I will personally deep fry all of you and serve to CEO Kim for lunch.”
---
They texted him an address somewhere in Hongdae shortly after work on Friday, designating a
meeting time of 11:00PM. “It’s actually a bit early,” Kangmin noted. “But we can’t have you out
too late. Noona will kill us.”
“Dress to impress,” Jaehyuk had added.
He didn’t have many “nice” clothes per se. Most of his wardrobe consisted of comfortable pieces;
soft hoodies, plain jeans, modest sneakers. Either too casual or too formal; there was no happy
medium. He stood in front of his closet for a long time, scouring over his options until he settled on
a pair of edgier ripped jeans, paired with an expensive white blouse his parents had bought him
years ago for his birthday. How to not look like a dork, he wondered, adjusting the shirt every
which way until he figured out that rolling up the sleeves created a rather chic look.
The ground outside of the club shook as the music blared from the inside, clubgoers idling in a line
by the door, waiting for their turn to enter. He felt a heavy clap on his back, followed by raucous
laughter as his coworkers closed in around him, having just arrived on the scene and already keen
on starting a riot.
“God, you look good,” Beomseok mumbled, sizing Seokjin up and down and shaking his head.
“He’s gonna get all the ladies tonight,” Yechan sighed in agreement, the five of them breezing past
security and beelining straight for the VIP section.
It seemed that the boys were club regulars; the bouncers knowing them by name, servers and
bartenders nodding in their direction as they pushed past the sea of girls girls girls, and boys
circling said girls like hawks. The stench of cigarettes, of stale liquor, the pounding of the bass in
the dark room. All of it invaded his senses against his will, rendering him dizzy, overwhelmed. It
couldn’t have been more than a minute and already his lungs were closing up, making it difficult to
breathe.
The five of them settled into a lounge area on the second floor, separated by rope and tucked away
in a more secluded corner. Seokjin sat in one of the leather armchairs, eyes following the scantily
clad servers walking back and forth between their section and the bar, weidling large bottles of
liquor and trayfulls of shot glasses for the group.
“You just started your shift?” He heard Jaehyuk ask the girl dropping off their alcohol.
“Yes, darling,” she smirked, giving the boy a small pat on the shoulder. “It’s fucking crazy tonight,
don’t call for me too much, okay?”
“She’s such a bitch,” Beomseok chuckled once she was out of ear-shot. “Don’t know why you like
her.”
“Precisely because she’s a bitch,” Jaehyuk smiled, pouring the vodka into each little glass to start
off the night.
“Cheers,” Kangmin cried, lifting up his arm and prompting the others to do the same. “To
Seokjin’s first night out.”
“To Seokjin’s first night as a real man,” Jaehyuk added.
---
Taehyungie: Ugh STILL at the photoshoot my GOD
Taehyungie: They wanted to bring their freakin dog but this dog is crazy and it’s taking twice as
long
Taehyungie: What are you doing?
Seokjinnie: [read]
---
He could see why they loved the place so much. Once the liquor began flowing and the DJ started
playing the real setlist, there came from seemingly out of nowhere a long slew of women to their
table. Leggy, young, beautiful. Wave after wave, often arriving in pairs or threes, staying for
fifteen minutes at a time to partake in shallow conversation and rounds of shots. Some, if a
connection was felt, lingered longer, draping their arms over the boys’ shoulders and whispering
sweet bullshit into their ears.
Most of the women seemed drawn to Seokjin, yet were too afraid to approach him. Unlike the rest
of his posse; his fun, flirty, open, happy colleagues, he appeared rather unenthused, hardly opening
his mouth unless it was to down another shot or make side conversation with the boys. It wasn’t
that he was trying to bring down the mood. He simply had zero desire to partake in anything
further than simple alcohol consumption. But it was evident that the girls wanted more, eyeing him
with curiosity and asking him if he was okay. “Fine,” he’d smile curtly, sending them away in a bit
of a huff.
“Am I interrupting?”
Five heads shot up in the direction of their newest visitor, one evidently familiar with the boys as
they all laughed and greeted her by name.
“Jiyeon-ah,” Kangmin drawled, hand reaching upwards to brush against her fingers. She gave him
a coy smile in return.
“Not surprised to see you guys here,” she mumbled, eyes unsurprisingly steering towards the
newest member of the group.
“Same for you,” Jaehyuk shot back. “Is Yoona here?”
“Yeah, yeah. Downstairs. Don’t keep her waiting too long.”
“I’ll be down in a bit.”
“What do we have here?” Jiyeon purred, ambling over to her unsuspecting victim on the far couch,
eventually perching on the armrest and placing a hand behind his back.
“He’s new at the office,” Yechan piped up.
“Seokjin,” he introduced himself politely, swiveling sideways to look at her. “Kim Seokjin.”
“He’s young,” she laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “How old are you?”
“He’s only three years younger than you,” Beomseok interjected. “Just has a baby face.”
“Cute,” she giggled, her hand sliding from the back of the couch to his neck instead, cold fingers,
long nails grazing against his skin. “Do a shot with me?” She suggested, raising her eyebrow and
waiting for the boy’s response.
“Sure,” he agreed quietly, too nice to say otherwise.
They watched in amusement as she reached over to the table, grabbing a spare shot glass and filling
it up with vodka, swaying in the process, still a bit tipsy from the liquor she’d consumed earlier.
Wordlessly Seokjin pushed forward his glass, allowing her to fill it up before she handed it back to
him.
“Wedding style?”
Before he could register what was happening she’d slithered effortlessly into his lap, arm now
hooked around his neck, the hem of her dress riding dangerously up her thigh. Her breath
uncomfortably close to his cheek, the smell of alcohol stinging his nose. He could hear his
coworkers chuckling by his side, waiting for him to oblige, to loop his and hers arms together and
throw back the shot as she desired.
But Seokjin had frozen in his spot, hands suspended in the air and nowhere near the girl, a flush
blooming upon his ears, a deep crimson creeping to his cheeks as well.
“He’s embarrassed!” She cried, cupping a hand to his now burning skin.
Not embarrassed. He closed his eyes. Irritated.
With a soft clink he set down his glass on the table before clearing his throat. “Sorry. I think I
drank too much. I gotta use the restroom.”
He shifted upwards in his seat, prompting her to stumble to her feet, the boy mustering a fake smile
to his now quiet colleagues before squeezing out of their corner, through the smoke filled room to
the winding staircase down to the main floor.
He didn’t have an objective in his wandering. He simply wanted to get away. Perhaps if he
lingered long enough downstairs Jiyeon would be gone by the time he returned, and, give or take
half an hour, he’d excuse himself from the whole affair and hail a car home.
He couldn’t pinpoint why he was angry , the color red coursing through his veins and lighting up
his entire being. Pushing rather aggressively through the crowd, he came to a halt at the end of the
bar, craning slightly forward to grab the bartender’s attention.
“Pernod Ricard, on the rocks,” he mumbled.
“Keep the tab open?”
“Close it, please.”
He leaned against the counter, head a bit light from all the alcohol swirling in his system. He could
feel the people behind him pressing against his body in an attempt to flag down the very busy staff
behind the bar. Digging into his pocket he fished out his wallet, thumbing through a couple credit
cards before settling on the newest one in his collection.
That is, before a deep voice interrupted him.
“I got it.”
He looked up to see a taller man; slightly older by the looks of it too, donned in a sharp black
button down, hair swooped back, jawline strong and set, muscles straining against the fabric of his
shirt. A rather expressionless face, eyes lackluster and dark, lips curled into a hint of a smile.
“I can pay for myself, thanks.”
“So can I.”
The man was too quick, having already exchanged Seokjin’s whiskey for his own credit card, the
bartender swiping it at the machine and printing out the receipt for him to sign.
“Completely unnecessary,” Seokjin mumbled, the supposed act of kindness only fueling his
annoyance. Under normal circumstances he’d uphold his manners and thank the stranger, but he
was too disgusted with the whole scenario to extend such formalities.
“You just don’t seem too thrilled to be here,” the man chuckled, ordering a shot for himself.
“You’re the odd one out, you know? All these other fuckers couldn’t be more happy.”
And he was right. A quick scan around the crowd and it was hard to miss it, the hordes of men
choraling around circles of women with a pathetic eagerness. Only Seokjin remained aloof, cold,
distant in the corner of the bar.
“You got me there,” Seokjin admitted, taking a big swig of the whiskey, yet avoiding eye contact
as he did so. He didn’t know why he wasn’t walking away from the conversation. Perhaps he was
thankful that someone could see through his facade.
“Let me help you change that, then,” the man suggested nonchalantly.
Seokjin glanced up from his glass, brows furrowed. “What are you even saying?”
“Are you dumb?” He jested, breaking into a smile. For someone so intimidating Seokjin was
surprised to see a small dimple form in his cheek.
“I’m annoyed,” Seokjin retorted.
“If you really didn’t want to talk to me you would’ve walked away already.”
Touche.
He chewed the inside of his cheek before finally replying, “I’m here for the drinks. Not you. Let’s
be clear.”
“You’re fucking rude,” the guy full-on laughed. But it wasn’t malicious. “Choi Joowon. What’s
your name?”
“Seokjin.”
“Allright, Seokjin-ssi. If you’re here for the drinks then that’s what *oppa will deliver. Bartender,
line up ten more shots for us?”
“W-What?”
“We’ll drink a little bit till you decide you want something else.”
He was too tipsy to object to the proposition, too tipsy to stop the words rolling off his tongue.
“What else could I possibly want.”
“Me.”
---
The next thing he knew they were crammed into a narrow bathroom stall, Seokjin so intoxicated he
could barely stand straight, falling on top of Joowon and slamming the man against the metal wall,
fists grabbing his shirt collar as their lips met in what felt more like a brawl than a kiss. It was vile,
the way their tongues tasted of poison, the odd scent of Joowon’s cologne mixed with sweat. Yet
he couldn’t stop himself; hands roaming across his broad chest, the man aggressively tugging at
every inch of fabric he could get a hold of, tearing off a couple buttons in the process. If he had any
ounce of sobriety left in him it would’ve struck a nerve, but he was too intoxicated to feel anything
anymore.
They were loud. Any patron to the bathroom would undoubtedly hear them, pick up on the
obscene sounds coming from the stall on the far left. For a moment the entryway opened, the bass
of the EDM track pounding until the door was closed again, reducing the music to a muffle once
more. But they didn’t care.
He could feel Joowon smiling through the kiss, grinning as Seokjin messily groped at his ass
through his jeans.
“I knew you would cave the moment I saw you,” he mumbled against his lips.
Seokjin hated him. He hated him, but he hated himself more.
---
Taehyungie: Hmm. You must be busy huh
Taehyungie: 1AM. It’s getting late
Taehyungie: I’m going to bed
Taehyungie: Talk to you later
Seokjinnie: [2 hours later] Sorry.
Chapter End Notes
Don't k word me.
*For any of you wondering, when Joowon refers to himself as "oppa" he is doing so
intentionally/sarcastically. It's his way of flirting.
Joowon is loosely inspired by a webtoon called "Love or Hate." He's a pretty

controversial figure in the story, at times morally dubious but also incredibly complex
and in my opinion, the best written character in the series haha. I'm merely borrowing
this character's name/vibe for /my/ Joowon.
Chapter Notes
Remember, this is a coming of age story.
Which means these characters are young, dumb, confused about love, and bound to
make mistakes.
Enjoy. :)
He blinked his eyes open to searing sunlight, as every inch of him protested in pain to the prospect
of waking up. He lay there for a minute or so, taking deep breaths in and out of his nose, grappling
with the pounding of his head, the strange aftertaste lingering on his tongue.
I drank way too much.
At least he didn’t feel sick.
Rolling onto his side, he scooped up his phone from the nightstand, scowling when he realized he
forgot to plug it into his charger the night before, the battery teetering at a dismal 19%. Heaving a
ragged sigh he scrolled through various work emails and group chat messages until he paused at
two particular notifications: several texts from an unsaved number, and a missed call from
Taehyung.
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: Hey
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: It’s Joowon ;)
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: Hope you got home safe. Don’t miss me too much. We’ll meet soon enough.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly he felt sick again.
After retching into the bathroom toilet he returned to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed in
a broken daze. He could hear his mother calling him from a distance. “Breakfast is ready!”
“Okay,” he answered weakly.
He stared at the little green icon on his phone screen, displaying Taehyung’s missed call. It was
about an hour ago.
These days, Taehyung never really just...called. Not like he used to. Not like months ago, when
he’d phone in the middle of a workday and know that Seokjin would willingly pick up on the other
line with a sheepish laugh. He had learned to ask for permission instead. “Can you talk on the
phone now?” To which Seokjin nearly always declined. Perhaps he got tired of asking and decided
to take matters into his own hands. Or did something actually happen?
“SEOKJIN-AH! HURRY, BEFORE IT GETS COLD!”
There was no way he could get a moment of peace at this rate.
Sliding his feet into slippers and pulling on a pair of old gym shorts, he shuffled past the dining
area, past Seokjung and his mother and a steaming pile of food on the table. “Where are you
going?” She pressed as he headed towards the door. “To get coffee,” he lied. “I’ll be back in a
second.”
He took the elevator up to the rooftop instead.
It was a large open green space with incredible panoramic views of the city, its gardens boasting
perfectly manicured hedges and a variety of flowering plants. Most of his friends who had seen the
place were envious, but Seokjin himself rather disliked spending time there. He couldn’t put a
finger on it as to why. The other residents in his building didn’t take advantage of it either,
meaning at the very least it was quiet. That was all he really needed in the moment.
Sucking in a deep breath, he pressed on the call button under Taehyung’s name and waited. Just
one ring and the other line crackled to life.
“Taehyung-ah.”
“Seokjin-ah,” his warm voice answered. No bitterness, no judgment. Within seconds fresh tears
stung his eyes, but he quickly pushed down the waves of emotion.
“What are you doing? Where are you? I can hear the wind.”
“I’m at my rooftop.”
A surly chuckle. “Rooftop? You never go there.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s too noisy in the house. How are you, by the way? Everything all right with you?
Sorry I didn’t answer your messages last night, I was out. Did you wanna talk about something?”
“Do I have to have a reason to call?” Taehyung teased. “All I really want is to hear your voice.
These days I forget what you sound like.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? I know you’re busy. It’s okay. Don’t apologize for things like that.”
He swallowed thickly, head growing faint from the mid-morning sun. He hated that Taehyung
sounded so soft, so gentle, so kind against his ear. As if he were speaking to a child. A child that
deserved punishment, but was receiving forgiveness instead.
Do I tell him?
“But actually, I did wanna talk to you about something,” he confessed, pausing carefully before
divulging his reason. “Are you okay, Jin?”
For the duration of the conversation thus far he’d idled by the edge of the rooftop. Suddenly he felt
the pressing need to sit down. Crumpling onto a bench facing the Seoul skyline, he watched as the
light skimmed the tops of the buildings, like the sun glittering on an ocean.
“I’m fine, Tae.” He could still taste a hint of alcohol on his tongue. “Don’t worry about me. Focus
on yourself.”
“How can I not worry? You’re...you’re being weird lately. Feel like I don’t know you anymore.”
Do I tell him?
“Didn’t I warn you to stay away?” Seokjin half joked. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”
“I’m not. Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” he insisted with a sigh. “You’re so lovely.” Just like the sun swimming through the
clouds and warming his back. “So don’t think about me anymore, okay?” He whispered, courage
draining out of him as he wrestled with the words sitting at the tip of his tongue.
I can’t tell him.
“Remember our conversation from that night?” He resorted to instead. Neither of them had brought
it up since the incident, but they couldn’t keep going on as if it never happened. “Remember what I
told you? I meant what I said, Taehyung. You’re gonna be miserable with me. I didn’t just say that
in the heat of the moment.”
There followed a silence that dragged on a bit longer past comfort. He could almost hear
Taehyung’s anger simmering on the other end.
“Why are you saying these things? I really hate it when you say these things.”
“You would hate me more if I didn’t warn you.”
“No. When you talk yourself down like that. It really hurts me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Why do you keep saying-”
“Ah, Tae. My battery’s about to die.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll let you go.”
A sad chuckle as his screen devolved to black, as a cool breeze swept across his skin. Surely his
breakfast would already be cold by now. Then there was no harm, he thought, to sit there on his
lonesome for a little while longer.
—-
Taehyungie: I still don’t think you’re okay
Taehyungie: But I’ll give you space. Seems like that’s what you need the most right now
Taehyungie: I’m telling you though, once I get back to Seoul I’m not going to give up so easily
Taehyungie: You’ve warned me, now I’m warning you.
—-
It amazed him that they managed to exchange numbers after their bathroom rendezvous. Seokjin
could barely recall the details, his memories shrouded in a haze, something he was both nervous
about yet thankful for.
He remembered the worried faces of his colleagues when he returned to the VIP lounge. He
remembered not being able to explain the gaping tear in his shirt. “Did you get in a fight?” He
remembered a bumpy cab ride home, in which he had to ask the driver to pull over twice so he
could hurl on the side of the road.
The days following their initial encounter were spent in relative silence, Joowon sending an
occasional text or two but only late into the night, usually after Seokjin was already sound asleep.
And even when he woke up to his messages in the morning, he’d never actually bother responding.
It was one night. One mistake.
So he couldn’t quite explain why the moment Joowon actually proposed a second meeting, he
actually complied.
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: [5:00AM] Hey. You free later today?
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: Let’s get dinner.
Seokjin: [11:00AM] Why, what for?
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: Just would be nice to have some company :)
Seokjin: Don’t you have other friends
0XX-XXXX-XXXX: Well yeah, but can’t I mix it up a bit?
Seokjin: Oh. Then sure.
Seokjin: Dinner is fine.
---
Summer break was almost over. There were only two weeks left before Seokjin’s internship would
come to an end, before he’d pack his bags for the dorms again.
It was his first summer without Taehyung. Usually the monsoons, the pressing heat, all of it was
almost enjoyable with his best friend by his side. But it was as if everything had lost its color this
year, as if all the things he could bear before now threatened to crush him.
He waited for Joowon to send him the address of the restaurant, scoffing when he finally saw the
name of the establishment. An incredibly ritzy joint in the heart of Gangnam. Figuring that his
work clothes would suffice the dress code, he opted to leave directly from the BH office.
He could’ve taken a taxi, but there was something cathartic about taking the old bus across town.
He remembered in high school; God, those days felt like eons ago - that he and Taehyung would
meet at their usual station, board a bus to nowhere in particular, share a pair of headphones and
watch the scenery of the city shift before their eyes. Get off at a random stop whenever they felt
compelled to, grab a cheap bite to eat, meander home in much the same way.
The thought of Taehyung haunted him like an apparition. As promised, he’d started to give Seokjin
the space that he needed, bringing about a sense of relief, yes, but more so than that, emptiness.
He saw the boy everywhere. In the vacant seats of the shaky bus. In the winding paths of his
neighborhood. Even in the halls of his very own home. Everything breathed Taehyung, Taehyung,
Taehyung.
Leaning his head against the dusty glass, he willed himself to reflect on other matters, particularly
on the state of affairs at the office. How after their messy clubbing escapade his coworkers made
even more of a point to suck up to him, Seokjin gaping in disbelief as Kangmin placed a cup of
coffee on his desk the following Monday, waiting for his reaction with nervous fiddling. Of course
they’d think their jobs were on the line because of a silly weekend mishap. Of course Seokjin
accepted the beverage with a joke and a smile to ease the poor kid’s heart.
The situation at home was equally, if not more tense with his mother and father. They still hadn’t
forgotten Seokin’s little act of rebellion with the Lee family, their disdain for his behavior
lingering long after. The house now felt cold, even in the dead of summer.
And now I’m on my way to see a stranger I hooked up with in a dirty bathroom stall.
Perhaps this version of his life was the best he could afford.
And Taehyung; Taehyung was priceless.
---
Joowon was already sitting in the far corner of the restaurant, sporting a similarly fitted button
down as the one he’d worn at the club. Seokjin beelined to their table, sliding into the seat beside
the man and smiling civilly in acknowledgement.
He hated establishments like this. Double wine glass, triple fork and knife set up, classical music
seeping out of the sound system. All of it felt far too stuffy and pretentious. Watching Joowon swirl
his red wine in feigned sophistication, he could understand why the elder wanted to meet in such a
place. He seemed to be one for appearances.
Joowon was a talker, too. They didn’t get to do much of it on that drunken Friday night, but now
that the occasion called for actual conversation, he couldn’t seem to stop. Seokjin quickly learned
the basics as they each cut into their share of steak; Joowon was a club promoter. Hence his
copious connections with all of the hottest clubs in Hongdae, Itaewon. To earn some extra coin he
also had a side of hustle as a personal trainer at a luxury gym in Gangnam. The two of them
boasted a seven year age gap, although the difference in maturity seemed to be rather minimal. The
more the elder talked, the more Seokjin was convinced that he was a certified idiot. A cocky,
bullish meathead who seemed to think he had the younger wrapped around his finger. So much so
that by the time dessert was served, he felt it appropriate to place his hand over Seokjin’s on top of
the table.
Somehow making out in the bathroom was fine, but this...he hated this. Perhaps a bit quicker than
he meant to he retracted his hand from underneath, earning a look of confusion from the man at his
side.
“Hold on, Joowon-ssi. All you said was that you wanted someone to keep you company for dinner
tonight. Which I am. But I’m not looking for anything more than that.”
“What. So you’re not looking to date anyone right now?”
“No. Maybe I should’ve clarified that in the beginning. But now you know. I’m not interested in
taking this further.”
A small huff escaped from the elder’s lips as he toyed with the cuff of his own sleeve. “How
misleading, you are.”
“Well I’m telling you now. So don’t get the wrong idea.”
“But why is it that…” Joowon suddenly lowered his voice, leaning dangerously close to Seokjin’s
ear. “When we hooked up the other night you were so hard for me, mmm?”
Silence, as Seokjin clenched down on his jaw, cheeks burning cherry red.
“You don’t have to be so tense,” he continued with a drawl, hot breath ghosting the skin on his
neck. “Just tell me the truth, Seokjin-ssi. You’re really not attracted to me in the slightest?”
This twenty six year old man was actually pouting.
“No. It was just carnal instinct.”
“So let’s just keep it at that then.”

He could feel his breath hitch in his throat as without warning, Joowon’s large hand came to a rest
on his upper thigh, fingers digging into his flesh and sending shivers down his spine.
“Use me for your ‘carnal instinct.’ And nothing else.”
---
Joowon was tall. Brutishly handsome. A stupidity that was almost endearing. And the best part of
it all? When the two of them kissed, Seokjin felt nothing. And somehow that nothingness made
him feel safe.
It was the last week of summer, the same week one of the deadliest heat waves in decades struck
South Korea, making the simple act of grabbing a meal a taxing venture. With the internship
coming to a close and a new semester just around the corner, the remaining boys in Seoul at the
time: Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi, and Seokjin opted for one last dinner before Yoongi would have to
return to Gwangju for school.
The four of them chit-chatted over cool bowls of naengmyeon, mumbling in between slurps and the
occasional clinking of soju glasses. By the time their meal was finished the four of them were
pleasantly buzzed, leaning back in their chairs with a satisfied laze.
“Gonna use the restroom,” Seokjin muttered, excusing himself after settling the check.
“Me too,” Jimin piped up, trailing after him.
Once inside the men’s room, the two quietly went about their own business until they reconvened
at the sinks, pumping their hands with soap then lathering and rinsing. Park Jimin was unusually
silent, the air thick with a strange tension before he finally cleared his throat.
“Hey,” the blondie piped up, prompting Seokjin to make eye contact in the dirty mirror. “Been
meaning to ask you but haven’t gotten the chance. You and Tae okay?”
“Oh. Yeah, we’re great. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin sighed, grabbing a paper towel to dry off his hands. “Doesn’t seem like it. I
thought after that trip in the spring you guys were good. But the last conversation I had with him he
was kind of panicking.”
“Why?”
“Says you’re slipping through his fingers,” Jimin turned so that the two were face to face.
“He’s overthinking it. You know it’s been a busy summer for me. He knows, too.”
“I know you’ve been busy, Jin. You’ve ghosted me, too. Is it really just work?”
“Yes,” the boy laughed unconvincingly. “Don’t worry, Min.”
“Hey,” Jimin took a step closer, voice low in his throat. “You know we’ve known each other for
four years now right? There’s something you’re not telling me, I can feel it.”
“Now you’re overthinking too,” Seokjin chuckled, flicking the shorter boy on his forehead. “Come
on. Let’s get back. They’re gonna think we fell in the toilet.”
---
They took turns hugging Yoongi goodbye, wishing him best of luck for his new semester in
Gwangju. They were more than halfway through their first year now, barrelling towards final
exams in the winter and ultimately sophomore year in the spring.
“Tell Hoseok we said hi,” Jimin grinned, him and Jungkook backing away from the group and
headed in the direction of the subway station.
“I will!”
The two remaining boys, Yoongi and Seokjin, waved at the Hongik duo until they disappeared
from view, then averted their gaze back to their phones where both had called separate cars to head
home.
At least Yoongi had. Seokjin, on the other hand, was doing an excellent job of faking it, waiting
instead for Joowon to pick him up for a quick make-out session. The elder had insisted. If he really
wants to see me that badly...
“Time goes by so fucking fast,” Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t believe I
have classes tomorrow.”
“You had a great summer though,” Seokjin pointed out. It was true. The majority of Yoongi’s
break was spent traveling across Europe with his family.
“I’m super cultured now,” the boy beamed as his car approached the curb and came to a stop. “
C’est trop cher! ” He exclaimed, reaching for the door handle.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s too expensive!”
“Of course you would learn that,” Seokjin grinned, leaning in to give his friend a one-armed hug
before patting him goodbye on the back.
“Promise you’ll visit Seok and I soon?” Yoongi asked, sliding into his seat.
“Promise!”
It didn’t take long for Joowon to arrive.
Ten minutes after Yoongi’s departure Joowon appeared in view, damp tee sticking to his skin, hair
slicked with perspiration and brushed to the side, swinging his car keys coolly around his finger.
“Hey you,” Joowon smirked as he neared.
“Come from the gym?”
“Yeah. Is it okay if I’m a bit sweaty?” The elder chuckled, looping his elbow around Seokjin’s
neck and planting a brief kiss on the boy’s lips.
“Whoa,” the younger stepped back. “Not in public.”
“Then let’s find somewhere private, sweetheart.”
He winced as Joowon threw an arm around his shoulder, tugging him closer as he steered them to
his car parked on the corner.
Neither of them had noticed Yoongi’s unexpected return; the boy now frozen at the storefront, jaw
dropped to the ground, eyes fixed on the back of his friend in another man’s arms.
He’d rushed back to the restaurant in search of the wallet he’d left behind. He hadn’t bargained on
finding dirty secrets on the sidewalk instead.
Chapter End Notes
Well, well, well.
Thoughts?
If there's something in particular that stuck out to you in this chapter, please feel free to
share it with me. You can literally copy and paste. I'm also intrigued to hear this kind
of feedback. :)
Thank you to every single one of you that take the time to keep up with this story.
*FYI: a reminder...up until this point, the only friend in the squad who knew about
Seokjin's sexuality is Jimin (and obviously Tae).
Chapter Notes
There could be some triggering content in this chapter. Without giving it away, please
review the tags of this fic thoroughly before proceeding at your own discretion.
“Fuck this shit.”
He glanced up from his textbook, eyes landing upon his understandably frazzled roommate
Taejoon, cowered over his lecture notes and in the middle of tearing out his hair.
Everyone had said college would be a breeze compared to high school. And up until that final
semester of their freshman year, those claims had held tried and true. But come September and its
cooler disposition, it was as if a monster had awoken and reared its ugly head. Within weeks the
workload surged to an impossible amount, so much so that Seokjin soon found himself making the
library his second home.
On most days he’d camp out on his own, but on occasion a couple of friends or classmates would
join him in his suffering. Misery certainly loved company.
It was a rare event, however, for Seokjin to be accompanied by his roommates . The four of them
occupied the same living quarters, but they hardly spent time together outside of the dorm. Perhaps
it was a combination of desperation and delirium that prompted the odd group to convene around a
table on the library’s third floor. Taejoon had finished pulling out his scalp and was now
preoccupied with texting his girlfriend, a pencil shoved haphazardly up his nostril. Minho was
tapping away furiously at a game of Candy Crush, book completely neglected off to the side.
Sungmin was planted in front of his laptop with multiple tabs open “for research,” but with
Youtube plastered on the main screen instead. Seokjin rolled his eyes. He was watching his
favorite mukbanger tackle a boatload of ramen again.
His phone vibrated violently on the table, causing him to jump in his seat before peering at the
screen. A text message from Joowon; he was on campus with food in tow.
I told him not to come.

“Be right back,” he mumbled to no one in particular.
Pulling on a hoodie over his shoulders, he descended several flights of stairs to the ground floor,
past the receptionist and through the double doors. He could spot Joowon waiting at the bottom of
the steps, clad in a grey sweatsuit, swinging a plastic bag back and forth in one hand, the other
hand tucked into his pants pocket.
“Hey,” Joowon chirped cheerfully, making sure to avoid physical contact altogether, greeting
Seokjin as if they were just a couple of “bros.” It was a rule the two practiced whenever they were
out in public, dictated as such by the younger and honored by the elder.
He figured it’d be just a summer fling. That once the heat of August simmered down to September
chill, their affair would naturally disappear into the folds of the seasons. Yet somehow the two
were still walking side by side, through the milky dusk to the quiet lakeside.
They ambled to Seokjin’s usual bench, sitting about a foot apart from one another, breaking open
their wooden chopsticks to feast on steaming piles of tteok. Other students walking along the water
eyed their food in envy.
“Ready for the exam?” Joowon asked nonchalantly, stabbing a chopstick into the tteok and stuffing
it into his mouth.
“No,” Seokjin replied. “I just started studying seriously today.”
“You weren’t playing video games with Jungkook all week were you?”
It was already October, the leaves above their heads ruby red in the day but reduced to black in the
night. By now Joowon had a general knowledge of Seokjin’s group of friends, with the singular
and deliberate exception of sweet Taehyung. He made certain to never mention the boy around the
elder, knowing he couldn’t bear to hear Taehyung’s name roll off his tongue.
“Because I’ve been too busy studying for other exams,” Seokjin snapped. There were times that
Joowon’s incessant teasing would genuinely annoy him; this was one of those instances.
“I know. We barely see each other these days,” he pouted.

“I told you, Joowon-ssi. I really don’t have time for this anymore.”
“You’re so mean to me. Why don’t you just call me hyung? And how come you have time to eat
with me then?”
“Because I have to eat, right?”
“Why not sneak in a kiss?” He smirked, leaning the slightest bit closer and earning a disgruntled
hiss in return.
“Cut it out.”
“Why are you so cold-hearted?”
“If that’s the case then why are you still looking for me?” Seokjin sighed with exasperation.
“Didn’t you say your new client at the gym was cute? So go hook up with her.”
A hearty chuckle. “Well she is cute. But she’s no you.”
Seokjin ignored the latter comment, choosing to stuff his mouth instead.
“You know what it is about you?” Joowon continued, lowering his voice to a murmur.
“What.”
“I think I like you so much because-” He paused for effect, Seokjin’s chewing coming to a halt as
well, gears in his mind trying to process what he’d just heard. Like? Me? He’s just messing around
again, right? Joowon resumed speaking once he’d found the right words. “You act all tough and
scary, like you’re some sort of bad boy...when really you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
A clatter of sounds, as Seokjin tossed his chopsticks into the container and slammed the lid shut.
“Okay, I’m done eating. Are you done bullshitting now.”
“Almost. You’ve got sauce on your cheek, by the way.”
“Where?”
“Here,” he tutted, wiping at the splatter with his thumb.
“Thanks.”
“But anyway. What I’m trying to say is,” Joowon continued, looking Seokjin in the eye as he
finished his grand speech. “You remind me of me, when I was younger. You and I are the same,
aren’t we?”
Looking the elder square in the face, there came a sobering realization that he wasn’t all that far
from the truth. Seokjin wasn’t always like this, but he was well on his way.
Perhaps this was just a part of growing up.
A small buzz against the side of his leg jolted him to his senses. As Joowon grabbed their
styrofoam boxes and tossed them into a bag, Seokjin slipped his phone out of his pocket, heart
leaping wildly out of his chest upon spotting the newest messages.
Taehyungie: What are you doing
Taehyungie: Can I call?
“I gotta head out,” Joowon stretched like a cat. “I’ll walk you back.”
“Actually, it’s okay,” Seokjin assured quickly. “I’m gonna stay out here more. Clear my head.”
“You sure?” He stood to his feet, swinging the plastic bag like a big kid.
“Yeah, yeah. Go on. Have fun at work.”
“Alright,” he patted Seokjin on the shoulder. It was the most he was allowed to do. “Later,” he
brandished a wave, stepping off of the lake’s path and disappearing from view.
With shaking hands he opened up the message and typed out a quick response.
Seokjinnie: Sure.
Mere seconds later, his phone began to ring.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
He couldn’t sit still. So he started to walk around the lake.
His eyes scanned the familiar glassy surface, its peripherals largely abandoned as most of the
students were camped out in the library instead. The sound of Taehyung’s voice flooded his entire
being, warm, chocolate, velvet, lovely. It’d been weeks since he’d heard it. Much of their
conversation had dwindled down to casual exchanges in the group chat or a cordial check in every
other day. Phone calls were born out of necessity. He wondered what Taehyung could’ve possibly
needed from him at a time like this.
“Everything okay?” Seokjin pried, pacing aimlessly.
A heavy sigh from Taehyung. The boy didn’t like to harp on his personal problems, even in times
of genuine distress. He’d gloss over the actual issue with a less significant one just so he could get
something off of his chest.
“I have this really tough exam on Friday and I think I’m going to fail.”
“You too, huh?,” Seokjin chuckled. Just as he’d suspected; there was definitely something else
bothering him that he wasn’t disclosing. Do I play dumb and just go along with it? “What subject
is it for?”
“Psychology.”
“This course doesn’t even matter to you in the long run,” he reasoned. “I’m sure you’ll do fine
anyway. You’re a good test taker.”
“I was. But man, I’m rusty. Been a while since I’ve studied like this.”
“You’ll be bragging to me this time next week about how easy it was. Stop stressing, Tae. You’ll
be fine.”
“Yeah. I hope so.”
A brief pause, as Taehyung fell into a contemplative silence, prompting Seokjin to clear his throat,
to pry a bit further.
“So what else is bothering you?”
“What do you mean.”
“Feel like that can’t be the only reason you called.”
He listened to the sound of shuffling on the other line, of what sounded like shifting blankets and
the creaking of a mattress. Taehyung was probably lying on his stomach, studying in bed. He hated
sitting at his desk.
If he closed his eyes he could almost smell the scent of his sheets again. Linen and lavender.
“Remember in high school,” Taehyung finally whispered. Seokjin found himself already nodding.
“Mhm?”
“How you started going to the soccer field during breaks just to lay there?”
Of course he remembered. He remembered everything. The dew on the turf. The starless skies of
Seoul. The distant lights of the school building.
“I remember seeing you slip out for the first time and wondering, where the hell is this weirdo
going? And then when I saw you plop down in the middle of the field all by yourself I seriously
cracked up. Like is this guy going through some existential crisis already? Aren’t we too young for
that? It was the first week of school, I think.”
Seokjin couldn’t help but laugh.
“And then I became so intrigued that the next time you went I joined you. Wanted to see what was
so great about that field for myself.”
“And was it as great as you expected?”
“Better!” Taehyung exclaimed, voice bright but quickly losing color. “I could see why you did it. I
never looked at the sky like that before. I mean, there was nothing up there to look at but I
suddenly felt small, but in a good way? Like nothing really mattered. School, exams, none of it.
The world is so big, what’s there to worry about?”
“Why are you bringing this up, Tae?”
“Because right now I feel really small. But not in a good way. Feels more like the world is too big
and it’s going to swallow me whole.”
“I know that feeling.”
“All I want,” Taehyung sighed. “Is to go back to that stupid field. Lay there next to you and look
up at the sky. Feel invincible again.”
“Me too.”
---
The last few months of their freshman year was much of the same; long nights buried under
textbooks, downing coffee like water, watching the sunrise from the library’s dusty third floor
windows.
Their reunion took place just after New Years, all of them present with the exception of Namjoon,
who opted to stay in the states for the holidays. “I can’t afford the plane ticket,” he’d explained to
his devastated friends. “I’ll pay for it,” Seokjin offered earnestly. But Namjoon was quick to turn it
down. “I could never,” he retorted. “Plus...you know that girl I told you guys about? The one I met
at the house party?” A chorus of “yes”’s from the group. “I’m meeting her family for Christmas
and New Years.”
So that was something to gossip about.
They picked a familiar joint in Myeongdong, a busy mom and pop barbecue shop where the
owners knew a couple of the boys by name. The five of them were waiting for the last of the bunch
to arrive; Kim Taehyung, fresh from a family holiday to Busan.
He burst through the doors with his typical bravado, tailed by a swirling wintry gust, causing all
heads in the restaurant to turn in his direction. A pair of rosy cheeks, a red nose, a scarf wrapped
snugly around his neck so that only his crescent moons for eyes showed when he grinned from ear
to ear. His friends broke into rowdy fanfare as he maneuvered towards their table, each taking turns
to clap him on the back and ruffle his messy hair.
“Took you long enough, you bastard,” Hoseok yelled, pulling Taehyung into a bear hug before
letting him settle in next to Seokjin.
The two had locked eyes the moment Taehyung entered the establishment, Seokjin’s chest
clenching as Taehyung slid into his seat and gave a gentle pat to his knee.
“Hey you,” Taehyung mumbled, this time only loud enough for Seokjin to hear.
“Hey.”
He kept his hand on Seokjin’s leg until he was urged to flip through the menu and pick out what
kind of meat he wanted for the grill.
They ordered a generous amount of food, mountains of pork and beef, endless bottles of soju and a
token can of Coke for Taehyung. “Our baby,” Jimin cooed as he downed another shot of liquor on
his own.
The alcohol was flowing, the music blaring in the background, the sound of Taehyung’s laughter
like hearing an old melody again. He found himself getting lost in the senses, pushing aside his
anxieties and forgetting the complications that had mired their friendship. Circumstances aside, he
was simply happy to see him; to see the certain sparkle reflected in his eyes, to graze shoulders
from time to time as they shifted in their seats.
The night carried on ceaselessly, various patrons coming and going as they ordered one bottle after
another, making it clear that they were to stay for quite some time more. Not that the ahjumma and
ahjussi minded; they even provided a round or two on the house. Soon drunkenness took hold of
each of them, words slurring comically, eyes glassy and hooded, hiccups and giggles rolling off of
their tongues.
“What’s her name?” Hoseok asked in reference to Namjoon’s new beau.
“Daisy, I think,” Jimin piped up.
“OH! So she’s American?”
“Korean American.”
A chorus of “Ohhhhhh”’s.
“Has he ever dated before? No, right?”

“First girlfriend!” Jungkook nodded proudly. “And she’s super fucking cool, too. Don’t know how
he did it.”
“Shush,” Jimin admonished. “Our Joonie is a CATCH.”
“How’d they meet again?” Seokjin questioned.
“At a house party,” Jimin explained. “Like the only party Joon has gone to all year. Apparently he
was a bit of a wallflower and he found this girl crying in the corner because she bumped into her ex
and he was making out with some other chick. And he basically sat with her for the rest of the
party and kept her company, and apparently they got on so well they exchanged numbers and went
on a proper date a couple days later.”
“So they didn’t do anything at the party?” Taehyung asked, wide-eyed.
“No,” Jimin shook his head. “He was the perfect gentleman.”
“That’s our boy,” Yoongi drawled, taking a small sip of water before guzzling down more beer.
Hoseok laughed heartily, shaking his head at the thought of a lovestruck Namjoon. “I remember
that pic he sent us. She’s cute. Lucky bastard.”
“You think they’re gonna last?” Taehyung directed the question at Jimin, who seemed to know the
most about the situation.
“He says if he can come back next Christmas, he’ll bring her to Korea. So we’ll see.”
“Sounds like Joon,” Seokjin smiled. “Thinking long term already. He’s always been a hopeless
romantic.”
“What about you, Jin?” Yoongi piped up out of the blue.
The other four sets of eyes turned to the boy in question, who appeared equally perplexed by the
sudden attention.
“Hmm?”
“What about you?” Yoongi pressed on. “Where’s that guy you’re seeing?”
A deafening silence, save for the sound of Seokjin’s own pulse pounding furiously in his eardrums.
“You know, that dude you’re-” he hiccuped, “-with.”
He could feel his heart physically plummet to his stomach, cold sweat breaking at his brow and
beading at his palms. He didn’t dare look to Taehyung on his left, whose breathing had gone from
steady to shallow.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seokjin lied through his teeth, hoping his inebriated
friend would drop the topic altogether. The other boys at the table were rendered speechless in
shock, eyes darting nervously back and forth between the two.
Does...does he know about who I think he knows…?
“You know,” Yoongi licked his lips. “That really tall, really tough lookin’ guy you were kissing.”
How does he fucking know?
The heartbeat in his ears turned into ringing, his head suddenly faint, the lights of the restaurant no
longer warm but blinding. He couldn’t cut his friend off, he couldn’t lie, he couldn’t pretend. The
damage was already done. The more he’d deny it, the more Yoongi would insist. To save himself
was a lost cause.
“It’s…” Seokjin began, picking every word with the utmost care. “Nothing worth discussing,” he
finally stammered, heat rising to his cheeks, scorching his ears. He could feel Taehyung boring
holes through the side of his head.
“Ah,” Yoongi nodded, swallowing thickly before finishing off the rest of his beer. “Sorry,” he
muttered. “Just thought you were dating or someth-”
“Yoongi, stop,” Jimin snapped.
“HEY!” Jungkook cried, breaking the heaviness with an uncharacteristically cheery smile. “Did
you guys see on Instagram? Kangwoo is dating Sooyoung!”
It worked, somewhat. For a moment the attention shifted away from the crisis at hand as the others
indulged in juicy gossip over their middle school classmates. With a light thud Yoongi’s head
slumped over onto Hoseok’s shoulder, Jimin casting a worried look before suggesting that someone
escort him home.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, eyes practically sealed shut. “Water. Jusss...water. I’m good.”
But Seokjin was not good, and neither was Taehyung. Far from it. Warm, bubbly, happy Taehyung
was now cold, as chilly as the draft seeping in from under the front entrance. After what seemed
like an eternity of silence, he felt the boy scoot his seat back, a rustle of his coat as he slipped it
over his shoulders.
“I’m gonna go outside for a bit,” Taehyung announced, tugging on Seokjin’s pant-leg underneath
the table, terse, urgent. “Get some fresh air.”
“Me too,” Seokjin excused himself, glancing at a confused and frantic Jimin before trailing after
Taehyung’s angry backside.
They were met with the sting of cold January air, relentless and cutting but not enough to slice
through the tension looming between the two. He followed Taehyung wordlessly along the
sidewalk, eventually turning into an alleyway, illuminated by a lonely lamp and tucked away from
the busy streets of Myeongdong.
Another dark, secret place. Never in the light of day.
Once they’d walked far enough into the narrow space, the boy finally came to a stop, turning so
that the two were face to face, forcing Seokjin to peel his gaze away from the ground, to look up at
him instead. There were already pools of tears swimming in his eyes.
“I can explain.”
“There’s something to explain? So what Yoongi said is true?”
“It’s…it’s not like that anymore…”
“Tell it to me straight,” Taehyung demanded, a fat tear escaping and sliding down his cheek. He
was biting down on his lip in determination, feigning bravery in spite of verging on heartbreak.
“I’m not afraid. Tell me everything.”
“I will-”
“Are you dating?” He interrupted, unable to wait for the full explanation.
“No.” Seokjin denied fervently. “Listen. I met him when I went out one night in the summer. He
came onto me. I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking-”
“But it wasn’t a one time thing?”
A shaky inhale. “Not exactly.”
“So-so you’re seeing each other?”
“NO. No, we...it was a summer thing. We don’t do that anymore.”
“What do you mean, don’t do that -”
“We were just hooking up for a little while. That’s all it is. No feelings, nothing. I’m-I’m sorry I
didn’t tell you, I should’ve said something, I-”
“He...he kissed you?” Taehyung asked for confirmation.
Seokjin nodded.
“Many times?”
He couldn’t look him in the eye.
There were tears streaming down the boy’s face, hot rivers burning his skin as he tried to maintain
composure, arms clutching his jacket tightly around himself as he processed the atomic bomb of
new information. “I feel like an idiot,” he stammered. “I feel like an idiot thinking this whole time
that I’m the last guy you kissed.”
“Tae-”
“D-did you come out already?” Taehyung cried, breaking into a sob. “Did you come out and not
tell me?”
“NO!” Seokjin exclaimed, voice cracking in frustration. What have I done. “I was never planning
on coming out, not now, not ever.”
“Then how does Yoongi know?”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin shuddered, racking his brains for an answer. “I really don’t know. But I
mean, now I guess...I guess everyone knows,” he mumbled numbly as the full realization dawned
upon him. “I would never keep that from you, Tae. You’d be the first to know.”
“So why did you keep THIS from me?”
“I didn’t plan on any of it going this far.”
Not with you, nor with Joowon.

“I know I have no right to be mad. We’re not together. We never were. Maybe I’m the idiot, huh?”
“You’re not,” Seokjin shook his head. “It’s my fault. It’s all me. I’m a fuck up. I’m a screw up. I
told you, didn't I? You don’t want to be with me, Taehyung-ah. Can’t you see? I...I don’t know if
I’ll ever figure it out-”
“Why can’t you figure it out with ME?” Taehyung was full on bawling.
“Tae, I CAN’T do that to you. I can fuck it up with someone else, ANYONE else but you, you
know that.”
“I’m literally GIVING myself to you,” Taehyung cried, shoving Seokjin by the shoulders as he
tasted salt in the corners of his mouth. “Why can’t you just TAKE ME? SO WHAT if we hurt each
other? Isn’t that what relationships are? You love each other but you hurt each other!” Another jab,
this time Seokjin reaching up to grab a hold of his wrist. “LET GO, JIN.”
“I cannot. Hurt you.”
“YOU ALREADY HAVE!” Taehyung bellowed, using his free hand to push him away, only to be
caught at the wrist once more, his arms now locked in Seokjin’s grasp. “I didn’t want you to hurt
me THIS way.”
“You know he means nothing to me, right?” Seokjin too raised his voice, eyes fogging over as
Taehyung thrashed wildly before him.
“Why do I feel like I’m the one who means nothing.” He was shaking his head, brows furrowed in
confusion as he tried to make sense of Seokjin’s words. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin exhaled, letting himself succumb to emotion as well. “I’m sorry. I should’ve
told you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated over and over again until the words no
longer sounded like such, pulling the boy close to him by the wrists until the space between them
ceased to exist, until they were chest to chest, Taehyung’s forehead landing against Seokjin’s
shoulder with a dull thud, tears quickly soaking the felt of his coat.
“I understand if you hate me,” Seokjin whispered, releasing his grip from the boy’s wrists to wrap
his arms around his shoulders instead.
“When I said I’d wait for you, I meant it,” Taehyung sobbed wetly.
“It’s not worth it. You’ll only be miserable with me,” Seokjin pleaded, a gentle hand reaching up to
the back of the boy’s head. “I’m sorry. Just forget about me. I’m sorry. Promise me you’ll forget
about me.”
But Taehyung only continued to shake his head in disbelief.
“All I really wanted was you,” he whispered. “And why...why do I feel like you still want me
too?”
Seokjin had no more words left to give.
“It makes no sense,” Taehyung gasped.
He booked a last minute train back to Daegu the very next day. Sent a very brief message to the
group chat explaining he’d be staying at a friend’s place until the new school year started in
February. No one saw him off at the train station. He made sure that he was already halfway to his
destination when he broke the news.
Just as quickly as he came, he was gone.
Chapter End Notes
I was extremely delirious editing this chapter. Apologies in advance. I'm tired lol.
Thoughts? Always love hearing from y'all.

Chapter Notes
T/W: panic attack.
[The next morning, 11:00AM]
Jin: Hey
Yoongi: Heyy
Jin: How you feelin?
Yoongi: Like shit haha. My head is pounding
Jin: I figured
Jin: Would you be down to meet though? Maybe for haejangguk?
Yoongi: Eh. Not hungry
Yoongi: Could use some coffee
Jin: On an empty stomach? You’re crazy
Yoongi: Tell me something I don’t know
Jin: [drops address] Meet me at this cafe in an hour?
---
He tossed on a puffy coat, threw on an old baseball cap, then took the bus cross town to their
designated meeting place, a coffee shop just a stone’s throw away from Yoongi’s apartment.
Joowon: Dinner tonight?
He ignored the text.

He opened the door of the cafe, a gust of cold wind following him before the interior’s warmth
embraced him like a blanket. The space was mostly deserted, big glass windows facing an equally
desolate street. Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. Seokjin approached the counter, ordering a latte
for himself and an Americano for his friend, then claimed a table in the far corner, waiting for his
arrival.
About fifteen minutes later an evidently hungover Yoongi stumbled through the entrance, eyes
scanning the room until they landed upon Seokjin. Seeing that the boy already had two cups of
coffee on the table, he walked sheepishly past the counter and settled into the chair opposite him.
“You didn’t have to,” Yoongi mumbled, peeling off his coat and placing his cold fingers around
the cup.
“My treat,” Seokjin waved it off, taking a sip of his latte. “Still feeling shitty?”
Yoongi nodded slowly. “I regret everything.”
A nervous laugh from Seokjin. “Do you remember everything?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm,” he hummed, a sudden wave of fear washing over him, prompting him to shift his gaze to
the street outside to quell his pounding heart.
“How-how are you feeling?” Yoongi asked in turn, eyes fixed on Seokjin’s locked jaw.
A deep sigh. “Could be better,” he admitted, focused on the little bubbles dotting the surface of his
latte. “I uh...I actually wanted to talk to you about something specific today,” he finally stammered,
his entire body trembling as he willed himself to make eye contact. “Something that you said last
night.”
“Yeah, sure. What did you want to talk about?”

Judging by the way the boy swallowed down the lump in his throat, he knew that he’d truly
remembered everything.
“How did you know.”
They talked it out in hushed, broken tones, Yoongi explaining how he’d hopped into his car on that
fateful day only to discover five minutes into the ride that he’d left his wallet back at the restaurant.
Flustered and embarrassed, he’d asked the driver to turn around. It was perfect timing, really, that
the second he stepped onto the curb he stumbled upon a scene he should’ve never bore witness to.
He hadn’t told anyone. Not a single soul. Not even his brother. He watched their backs disappear
around the bend, bottled up the memory and sealed it shut. But it was like a pressure cooker, the
secrecy of it. Perhaps it was why the moment alcohol was added to the mix he boiled over, words
spilling out of him and dribbling messily into the fire he’d created.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi repeated over and over again, voice cracking, face hidden behind his large
hands. The entire conversation he hadn’t dared to look up at his friend, shoulders shaking, gaze
downcast to his lap, a whole mess.
“I...I would never do this on purpose,” he continued. “I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am.
I’ll...I’ll never forgive myself for this, I swear to you. I can’t believe you’d even want to meet up
with me today. If...if you hate me, I get it. I hate myself too.”
“Hey,” Seokjin whispered as he pried Yoongi’s hands away, exposing his raw cheeks and
bloodshot eyes. “It’s okay,” he assured, voice dripping gentle and sweet like honey. “It’s okay.”
Which only made Yoongi feel worse.
“In a way it’s nice,” Seokjin lied, mustering a chuckle to make his friend feel better. “It’s a relief,
honestly. Felt kinda shady, hiding this from all of you.”
“You don’t hate me?” He asked, eyes misty.
How could I hate you.

“The only time I’ve ever hated you was that one time you dragged me out to McDonald’s at 4AM
when you were super drunk because you were bitching about chicken nuggets, and then not even
two nuggets into it you proceeded to throw up all over me. That was the one time I hated you.”
“Oh god. Why are you bringing that up again.” He got a good chortle out of Yoongi just as a tear
threatened to spill over.
“But seriously Jin,” he pressed on, red blooming across his cheeks. “I...I hope you know...this
doesn’t change anything between us, okay?”
“I know.”
He wanted to mean it when he said “I know.” Their entire group had been long aware and
accepting of Taehyung’s sexuality, never alienating him nor shaming him for it. And Seokjin
wanted to believe that they’d extend the same grace to himself as well. But he and Taehyung were
two very different people. Taehyung had always been wild, coloring outside of the lines, running in
the opposite direction. Seokjin was a cookie cutter kind of guy, or at least he presented himself in
such a way. Clean cut, upper class, straight A’s, straight . Certainly they wouldn’t toss him to the
curb if they found out he liked men too. But would they suddenly feel awkward in his presence, as
if they couldn’t be themselves? Would they tiptoe? Would they laugh too hard at his jokes just to
make him feel better? Would they worry if he sat too close or if they’d ever be left alone with him?
Would they secretly pity him?
He couldn’t help but worry about these things.
“No like, really, truly, I mean it. I speak for all of us when I say this. We love you, you know that?”
“I know,” he replied weakly, throat tightening.
“Jimin scolded me when you walked out of the restaurant last night. Everyone else was just really
worried. Worried that you’d be upset. And that it was too cold out.”
“Oh boy. Sounds like our Jiminie.”
“Did…did anyone else in our group know already?” Yoongi asked out of curiosity.
“Yeah, actually.”
“Who?”
“Jimin.” To which Yoongi nodded, “Of course.” A long pause. “And…Taehyung.”
“OH!” Yoongi clapped his hands together upon hearing the latter’s name. “That’s right,
Taehyungie! That makes sense.” An innocent smile crept to the boy’s lips. “It must be nice, having
someone who can understand you.”
Seokjin swallowed. “It is.”
“I’m sure the two of you can help each other out,” Yoongi spoke with great hope. “That’s crazy.
That’s awesome.”
The mere mention of his name felt like a stab to the gut.
Yoongi’s cup was nearly empty. The boy consumed coffee the same way he consumed alcohol;
like water. “Speaking of the devil. Did you see Taehyung left for Daegu today?” He piped up.
“Didn’t realize he was leaving so soon. He literally just got back to Seoul yesterday.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s sad, isn’t it? The fact that the seven of us are never really together anymore.”
They drained the last bit of their drinks before slipping their coats back on and stepping out into the
chill. “Just promise me,” Seokjin turned to Yoongi so that the two were face to face. “Promise me
you’ll keep it within the group?”
“Of course,” Yoongi pledged with a tinge of shame. “You have my word.”
“Just…don’t go drinking and babbling to anyone else, okay?”
“I won’t. Never again. I’m a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.”
“I still love you,” Seokjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. To which his friend beamed,
eyes clear, cheeks rosy.
He wasn’t lying when he said it felt like a weight off of his shoulders. It wasn’t how he imagined it
to be, coming out; how did he picture it to look like? Something more graceful, perhaps? Words
woven together with his own mind and mouth? Yet a small part of him acknowledged that if it was
up to him, he would’ve likely taken it to the grave. Lived a whole life shouldering the weight of a
lie.
Yoongi’s apartment was within walking distance. Seokjin opted to take the bus back home. “I’ll
walk you to the station,” Yoongi offered, his voice now bright and cheery, like night and day from
the heaviness it carried before.
It began to snow as they walked. Soft, timid flurries, like dust, more emboldened by the minute
until the flakes began to dance, forming a small layer upon their shoulders.
“It’s the first snow,” Yoongi smiled.
And he’s gone again.
---
The snowfall was ceaseless, endless, shrouding the evening sky of Seoul in a white veil, dancing
clementine orange under the lamplight. He walked down the abandoned pathways of his
neighborhood, boots pressing into fresh powder, his trail of footsteps lonely and singular.
It was his tenth attempt at a phone call that day. Pressing the cold screen to his ear he waited with
bated breath, waited until he finally heard a voice only to realize it was the answering machine
once again.
“This is Kim Taehyung. Sorry for not picking up, leave me a message and maybe I’ll get back to
you. Depends.”
Beep.
“Hey. This is Jin again. I know you’re still probably mad. I just...wanted to see if you made it back
safely. And to talk to you one more time, if that’s possible. Call me back when you get this.”
He heaved a sigh as he ended the call, inwardly cursing at himself for sounding like a coward, like
a dog with its tail in between its legs. He could see his apartment complex come into view, its
impassive silhouette looming over the landscape like a dark tower rather than a home.
Everything was cold, cold, cold. Empty and cold.
He could see the golden light of the lobby through the building’s revolving doors when he felt his
device drone within his palm.
Taehyungie: What is there to talk about.
Without thinking he came to a halt in the middle of the snow, quiet flakes kissing his skin and
coming to a rest on his coat.
Seokjinnie: Hey. Can you talk on the phone?
Taehyungie: I’m out. I can’t.
Seokjinnie: Maybe when you’re done?
Taehyungie: You can tell me over text
Seokjinnie: Would really feel better if it was over the phone…
Taehyungie: Would feel better if not.
He had never seen this side of Taehyung.

Seokjinnie: Okay.
Seokjinnie: You’re probably sick of hearing this from me and you probably don’t want to talk
anymore, but I’m sorry.
Seokjinnie: I know it may not seem like it, but I care for you. Always have, always will
Taehyungie: I’m gonna stop you right there
Taehyungie: Don’t waste your breath. Don’t waste my time.
Taehyungie: There’s nothing left to be said between us
Taehyungie: So you’re right, Jin.
Taehyungie: Let’s not talk anymore.
A deafening silence, save for the wind whistling past his ears, numbing him, mocking him. In the
eye of the storm, in the center of a ghost town, he found himself feeling emptier than he’d ever
been in his shell of a life, as if he had no other choice but to dial the next number to make himself
feel somewhat whole.
“Hey. Where are you?”
“Out drinking in Gangnam,” Joowon replied, the background noise nearly drowning out his voice.
“Why? What’s up?”
“I want to see you.”
---
Jimin: Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin
Jin: What do you want Jiminie
Jimin: Are you free tonight? Dinner? :) My treat? :)
Jin: No, sorry…got plans tonight :(
Jin: Tomorrow?
Jimin: Perfect
Jimin: Come to my place. Parents will cook for us
Jin: You’re the best.
---
When Joowon arrived at his own apartment to find Seokjin waiting for him by the doorway, he
took no time in throwing himself on top of the boy, drunk as hell but hungry with desire. It had
been too long since they’d touched each other like this. And Seokjin all too readily obliged, the two
of them tangled together in a needy mess, stumbling through the front door and beelining for the
bedroom.
He wasn’t himself. It was as if he was possessed, pushing Joowon’s tall frame onto the bed,
shaking hands working the shirt off of his torso, tossing it to the ground, other articles of clothing
joining it in a pile until there was nothing left to strip.
And they fucked. They fucked until he swore he saw stars, his head dizzy with pleasure, heart
heavy with sorrow as the room sank into a pit of moaning, lewd and dirty, sweaty and grimy.
It was his first time.
When all of it was said and done, when the two rolled off of one another onto their backs, as
Joowon quickly drifted into a deep slumber peppered by contented snores, Seokjin stared pointedly
at the ceiling, feeling even more empty than he had in the beginning of the night.
He was hollow.
Clambering out of the rickety bed, he carefully cleaned himself in the tiny bathroom, grabbing his
heap of clothes off of the floor before pulling them back on over his aching body, ultimately
wandering into the living room with not a single light on, the apartment basking in cold moonlight
alone.
Why am I hurting.
Everywhere. Everything hurts.

Do I even have a right to hurt?
Crumbling to his knees with a dull thud, he let out an animalistic groan as every inch of him
throbbed in biting pain. Walking was agonizing. (That was the sex.) Breathing, excruciating. (That
was something else.)
Why do I feel like I’m going to die.
He could hear Joowon’s snoring reverberating through the walls as he clutched at his chest rising
and falling far too rapidly, his throat constricting as a violent panic gripped him full force,
rendering him immobile, the boy gasping for air like a fish out of water.
Breathe, fuck. Just breathe.
But even such a simple task proved to be difficult; his face, his hands succumbing to jarring
numbness, as if a thousand tiny needles were stabbing at his skin.
It took him a long time to come to his senses, for air to return to his tired lungs. He opened his
teary eyes to catch a glimpse of the moon through the window, its taciturn face partly shielded by
winter clouds.
The snow had stopped, the storm was over. His train had left the city, his world had shifted.
Chapter End Notes
:(
What are your thoughts?
If there's a certain part that stuck out to you, resonated with you, anything you have
questions on, please feel free to comment below. I love going through everyone's
feedback.
The next chapter (23) will be the last one for their freshman year. And then we're
moving onto sophomore year. Freshman year was quite long now that I look at how
my chapters are structured, haha. I guess a lot of growing up happens when you shift
through a new life stage.
Anyway, thanks again for reading guys, even if this is dark and depressing. I really
appreciate your support.
Chapter Notes
By the next evening the snow on the ground had transformed from a pristine white to a sloshy
grey. Seokjin arrived at the Park household half an hour earlier than agreed upon, catching their
little family by pleasant surprise.
“Jin!” His best friend cried, launching himself full speed onto his tall frame and nearly causing the
two to crumble to the ground.
“Jimin-ah, cut it out,” his mother scolded. “You’ll hurt yourselves.”
“Our lovely Seokjinnie,” his father chuckled, flecks of kimchi splattered on his cheek. “You’re
early! Dinner isn’t ready yet. Sit down, help yourself to tea, snacks, anything. But don’t eat too
much-”
“I’m here to help,” he retorted, elbowing his way into the kitchen much to the parents’ protests.
“Don’t you dare-”
But the boy was stubborn, and after several minutes of bickering they had no choice but to give in,
allowing Seokjin to help with dinner preparations as if he wasn’t a guest but rather, family. Their
apartment was about a quarter size of the Kim penthouse, but somehow it always felt more like
home; warm, lived in, with its humble yellow wallpapers and its creaky wooden floorboards.
Close to actual dinnertime Jungkook barreled through the door frame with the energy of a small
tornado, brazenly announcing his arrival before shaking the snow off his boots and setting them by
the entryway.
“You made it,” Jimin smirked, giving his friend a light smack on the bum, earning a playful push
in return.
They hadn’t bothered taking down the Christmas tree just yet, its twinkling, multicolored lights an
odd but inviting sight. The six of them (including Jimin’s brother Jihyun) sat cross-legged around
the coffee table, passing dishes back and forth, Jungkook hardly lifting his head and inhaling his
portion like a vacuum.
“Slow down, kid,” Jimin’s father tutted, only to be entirely ignored. Jimin’s mother knew better
than to attempt to correct his ways.
All four boys helped to clean up after the meal was consumed, the parents eventually retreating to
the den to catch up on some TV, Jihyun ducking back into his room to do God knows what. As
soon as Jungkook spotted the newest episode of his favorite drama flash across the screen, he let
out an animalistic cry and bolted into the living room, seating himself on the ground in front of
Jimin’s mother and father.
“You wanna watch too?” Jimin asked Seokjin, already knowing the answer was a resolute “no.”
Seokjin didn’t like the lead actor.
The two slipped away to Jimin’s bedroom, closing the door with a soft click behind them. His
room was just as he’d left it in high school; messy as hell, adorned with trophies and awards, his
diploma framed and fixed right above his headboard. Jimin’s carry-on with all of his dormitory
clothes lay sprawled out in the center, the boy too lazy to fully unpack and opting to live out of it
instead.
Letting out a contented sigh, he collapsed into his computer chair while Seokjin threw himself onto
the bed, letting out a yelp when something sharp jabbed him in the stomach. A rubik’s cube.
“Sorry,” Jimin mumbled, clicking on his computer to find a suitable playlist to listen to. “Been
trying to solve that thing.” Seokjin chuckled, placing the item on the nightstand and settling back
into the mattress.
Above the soft tunes spilling out of the speakers, they could hear Jungkook yelling at the TV in the
next room, followed by Jimin’s parents’ urges for him to calm down. Seokjin couldn’t help but
laugh, rolling onto his side to face Jimin, who was swiveling around in his seat with peculiar
reservation, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew that when his friend was
uncharacteristically quiet like this there was something he wanted to talk about.
“Does he know?” Seokjin asked, nodding towards the angry hollering persisting from the living
room.
“I think everyone knows,” Jimin replied.
“I mean about me and Taehyung.”
“OH,” he licked his lips, absentmindedly twirling a pen between his fingers. “Honestly? He’s
suspected since high school. I’ve never confirmed anything, of course. But he did ask again
after...you know. Everything that happened the other day. When Tae left suddenly.”
“And what did you say?”
“Played dumb. Told him I had no idea.”
“You can tell him if you want,” Seokjin mumbled, picking at a loose thread on Jimin’s comforter.
“He’ll figure it out on his own eventually.”
“Okay,” Jimin nodded. “Only if he asks again.”
The last song fizzled to an end, the room devolving to a hush.
“Who is this guy, Jin?”
He looked up to meet Jimin’s gaze, the boy’s brows furrowed in a look of concern.
And so he explained everything. How he and Joowon first met, how it snowballed into something
he hadn’t planned nor foreseen, how Taehyung reacted to the news when the two left the restaurant
that evening. But he opted to leave out a smattering of details. Like the fact that their first kiss took
place in a bathroom stall. Or that he literally just lost his virginity to the guy the night before. He
knew that Jimin knew he was hiding something; as much as he adored his friend, he despised how
smart the kid was. How he could pick up on just about every little nuance, every shift in the wind.
“Remember when you came back from Daegu in the spring?” Jimin asked, Seokjin nodding. “You
looked like you were on top of the world, Jin.”
“Mm.”
“But now? It’s like the light’s been sucked right out of your eyes.”
“I’m just processing,” Seokjin sighed. “Processing the fact that everyone knows now. Or the fact
that Taehyung left so quickly. Or that he wants nothing to do with me anymore. I know I fucked up
but...I didn’t expect things to pan out like this.”
Silence, as Seokjin nibbled nervously on his bottom lip, as the muffled sound of Jungkook’s
laughter countered the solemn atmosphere in the room.
“Why not Taehyung?” Jimin asked gently. “You two were so happy together.”
“You know why.”
A heavy sigh, as he brushed his blonde locks away from his forehead. “Maybe I’m at fault here
too. Maybe...maybe it was wrong of me to convince you to try. To go to Daegu to see him,” his
voice low and laced with guilt. “You’re right. It probably complicated things. But I just...I’ve
always rooted for you two, even from the very beginning. Maybe I was living in denial too.”
Seokjin nodded.
“And this...this whole thing with what’s his name, Joowon? I know why you’re doing it. You don’t
have to explain anything.”
“Mm.”
“But do you really have to go through with it? I get where you’re coming from but can I be brutally
honest, as a friend who cares for you? It’s a-”
“I know-”
“-Terrible idea.”
“I know.”
“And Taehyung...I don’t want to go too much into detail,” Jimin continued. “Long story short, he’s
in bad shape. I think if you go about this carefully he’ll come around eventually. But if you’re
really gonna go through with this Joowon thing, you know it’ll never be the same between you and
Taehyung, right?”
“I know.”
“And you still wanna go through with this?” He repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.
He stared fixedly at his own palms. “Just...just let me have this one thing.”
And when Jimin kept quiet, Seokjin continued: “It’s better this way. Tae will be happier without
me.” He mustered a smile as the two finally looked one another in the face, Jimin’s heart
shattering at the sunken appearance of his best friend’s cheekbones. He’s lost weight. (But not in a
good way.)
“Will he?” Jimin whispered.
“He will be,” he nodded, eyes glassy with tears.
And will you, pabo-yah? Jimin stared back. Will you be happy?
The more he looked at his friend lying motionless on his bed, the more he wanted to break down
into sobs. It was like night and day, the Seokjin now compared to the simple, pleasant boy he’d
encountered their first year of high school. Now he was battered and broken, despite being too
young to feel this way. Torn apart on the inside but somehow still utterly beautiful. He could see
why it was easy to fall in love with him, and so difficult to fall out of it.
“Scoot over,” he murmured, more of a demand rather than a request.

The boy hesitated before shifting back towards the wall, Jimin prying himself out of his chair and
climbing into the bed, moving various items aside before pulling the covers over their shoulders.
The two lay there in their little nest, Jimin settling into a comfortable position until he was pressed
firmly against Seokjin, warmth flooding through both of their bodies upon contact. Seokjin
squeezed his eyes shut as two arms wrapped around his back, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Even though Jimin was petite in stature, Seokjin had a way of making himself even smaller,
tucking his head underneath his chin, burying his face into his chest. He could feel the fabric of
Jimin’s sweater against his cheek, could hear his steady heartbeat like a gentle metronome.
Suddenly he felt like a kid again, memories of his mother coddling him in his childhood
resurfacing to the forefront of his mind. She would hold him the very same way, pull him close and
card her fingers through his hair, remind him of how sweet he was, how he was her precious little
angel, and that she loved him because of that very fact.
If she knew who he really was. If all the sins he’d committed in the dark became exposed in the
light. Would she still love him if he was no longer her little angel?
He wept soundlessly, hot tears soaking through cotton, Jimin not minding one bit as he tightened
his grip with every tremble of his shoulders. He could pick up the scent of orange blossom
lingering on Jimin’s skin. It’s always been the same. The ticking of the alarm clock on the
nightstand. The blaring of the television, the distant murmuring of Mr. and Mrs. Park, of Jungkook,
the rhythm of Jimin’s breathing assuring him that despite everything, he was still loved. He felt a
light kiss on the top of his head before drifting into a deep slumber.
---
With a dull thud he dropped his phone to the ground, lowering himself onto the plush carpet and
curling into a ball. Dahyun was nestled in her corner of the couch, typing away on her laptop,
eventually pausing from her work only to find Taehyung in fetal position on her living room floor.
“Everything okay?” She asked, voice strained with worry.
No response.
He’d been crashing at her and Hyungsik’s shared apartment in Daegu since he’d fled from Seoul a
couple days before. He was noticeably quieter than usual, his characteristic cheeriness gone and
replaced by a sullen disposition. But neither her nor Hyungsik pushed the subject; they simply let
him mope in their home, laze on their couch, the boy mostly glued to his phone screen, always
with the same solemn expression.
“Taehyung-ah?”
She removed the computer from her lap, crawling onto the ground so that she was eye level with
the younger. Brushing his bangs away from his forehead, she gasped upon spotting fresh tears
streaming down his face. He shook like a leaf as he cried, arms clutched defensively across his
chest.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” She gasped, rubbing her hand along his back. “Breathe, take it easy.
Breathe.”
“Noona,” he choked, still trembling uncontrollably. This was not the Kim Taehyung she knew.
Taehyung was a happy kid with not a care in the world. The person before her was
unrecognizable.
“Y-yes, I’m here,” she stammered, rubbing circles. “Noona’s here.”
“Nothing makes sense-”
“Shhh,” she cooed, eyes scanning the otherwise empty living area and kitchen, ultimately landing
on Park Hyungsik’s closed door. Her roommate was home, albeit tucked away in his room,
reading. She needed him to come out and help her; she knew Taehyung, but not in the way
Hyungsik did. Perhaps staring a hole through his wall would lure him out of hiding.
“Do you want to talk?” She asked gently, only to be interrupted by the sound of her roommate’s
door flying open.
“Tae,” Hyungsik breathed, pacing towards the pair crumpled on the floor and squatting down next
to the boy. A look of relief washed over Dahyun’s face, the girl scooting to the side to allow the
elder to take over.
“Taehyung-ah, why?” He whispered, pulling the younger upright into sitting position, palms
wiping away at his tears, allowing him to bury his face into his chest.
The three of them sat in a sad pile for a long time, Hyungsik with his arms enveloped around the
broken boy, Dahyun gently stroking up and down his spine. The two shared worried glances in
between Taehyung’s raspy sobs.
He finally gathered the strength to speak.
“I-I really want to hate him,” He sputtered, breath hitching in his throat. “W-why can’t I hate
him?”
Hyungsik knew without Taehyung having to say anything more. He only wrapped his arms around
him even tighter.
Chapter End Notes
This is the end of freshman year. Next chapter the boys will be in their sophomore
year of college. Onwards and upwards.
Just an FYI, I don't know if I ever clarified this. The Park Hyungsik I'm using in this
fic is Taehyung's actor friend irl, also part of the Wooga squad. Lead actor in Strong
Woman Do Bong Soon, member of boy group ZE:A. If you want to visualize his look,
search "Park Hyungsik Strong Woman" and you'll get the idea.
Dahyun referenced here is yes, my bias in Twice haha. I don't stan the group but I like
Dahyun a lot.
*ALSO. Feel like some of you might question Jinmin and the possibility of these two
being an item. The answer is a resolute no HAHA. As much as I love Jinmin as a
romantic ship, I want to focus on their platonic friendship throughout this story. So no,
there’s no feelings involved. They just love each other as best friends do.
Apologies if there are typos...it's almost 5AM and I'm sleeeeeepy.
Anyway, THOUGHTS? Don't be a silent reader and let me know! Love hearing your
feedback and will always take the time to answer questions.
Part 2 | Sophomore Year
Chapter Notes
April: Sophomore Year
When the weather warmed enough, the Kims and Lees took a weekend trip to Busan, Jia and her
parents, Seokjin and his. Seokjung felt no need to participate and stayed behind in Seoul. The Lees
had a gorgeous penthouse in Busan overlooking the sea with plenty of guestrooms to accommodate
the Kim family, hence the excuse for an escapade down south. “Just for fun,” both parents had
insisted.
Seokjin was amazed that Jia’s father managed to forgive him for his antics during their initial
meeting. Perhaps it was his own father’s long withstanding ties with Mr. Lee that saved the boy
from condemnation. The man greeted him good-naturedly upon their reunion, giving him an
affable clap on the back as if nothing had happened.
They spent an extended amount of time wandering up and down the shores of Haeundae Beach, the
parents choralled in the front, Seokjin and Jia trailing in the back, bare feet pressed into the cold
wet sand, their shoes dangling from their fingertips. They walked mostly in silence, observing their
mothers and fathers having a jolly good time without them, the wind carrying the sounds of their
raucous laughter.
He supposed it was nice to be away from everything. Away from school, away from campus, away
from the dingy greys of Seoul. Despite it being only the second month of his sophomore year, the
course load was already proving more difficult than the year prior. He found himself bouncing
between the same three points like a boomerang: the dormitory, lecture halls, and the library. And
when he had a moment to spare, he spent the bulk of it trying to balance his time between his
buddies on campus, the boys at Hongik, and a tumultuous, roller coaster of a “relationship” with
Joowon.
They weren't dating. Seokjin liked to frequently remind Joowon the terms of their little agreement;
purely physical, no strings attached. And although the elder readily accepted these conditions,
there were fleeting moments after the sex where he’d linger, as if he yearned for something more
than just carnal. Something like affection.
But Joowon knew about everything. He knew about Jia. Even about their little weekend trip down
south. Knew what kind of future lay in store for Seokjin, and seemed to be okay with all of it
regardless.
Seokjin watched as the wind unraveled the Louis Vuitton scarf from his mother’s neck, watched as
Mrs. Lee chased after it in haste, the two women cackling in good humor as it fluttered like a bird
in the air. Why couldn’t he be happy like them?
It had been two, going on three months since he and Taehyung last spoke. It’ll get easier day by
day, he convinced himself after the first week of silence. But if anything the passing time created
the opposite effect; his heart weighed heavier than it had ever before.
Neither attempted to contact the other; Seokjin, driven by the belief that things were better this
way, and Taehyung, most likely fueled by lingering resentment. He couldn’t blame him. He sort of
hated himself too.
Their parents paused mid-step, Mr. Lee retrieving a hefty DSLR camera to take some photographs
of sunlight hitting the water. Seokjin and Jia followed their example, coming to a rest by a large
cluster of rocks, wild waves of Busan crashing at its feet.
The girl by his side remained tight-lipped the entire time, ambling beside him with an unreadable,
almost unenthused expression, eyes squinting at the blue expanse stretched endlessly before them.
He took a good look at her, observed the way the breeze toyed with her loose tresses, the way she
wrinkled her nose when said hair tickled her nostrils. He tried to imagine right then and there a
lifetime with her. The two of them growing old together, perhaps forty, fifty years down the road,
strolling along the very same beach with their own children frolicking behind them. But no matter
how magnificent of an imagination he possessed, he found it nearly impossible to picture such a
reality. He could only think of him.
“Why didn’t Seokjung oppa come?”
Her sudden question interrupted his train of thoughts, Seokjin blinking in surprise before answering
with a shrug of his shoulders. “He doesn’t think this concerns him.”
“He shouldn’t think that way. Think of it more as a chance to get out of the city.”
“To be honest, I don’t think my parents wanted him to come, either.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, her voice getting lost in the wind.

“Yeap,” Seokjin sighed, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.
She began scaling one of the lower rocks, climbing until she perched herself on the tallest one, its
surface slippery and smooth, dotted with algae and slicked over with salt water. He followed suit,
sucking in his breath to steady himself as he ascended. Soon the two stood side by side on the
largest rock, ocean mist kissing their toes. A sizeable wave slammed against its edge, causing her
to flinch in fright, Seokjin instinctively grabbing a hold of her arm to steady her.
“Whoa,” he breathed, not letting go until he was sure she had a good footing.
“Thanks,” she giggled, cracking a smile for the first time that day.
There was something about her laughter that brought forth a surge of courage from within.
“Jia,” he piped up, finally turning to look in her direction. “Were your parents an arranged marriage
too?”
She nodded. “Of course. How else does marriage work?”
He chuckled weakly at her response, knowing that it was more so truth rather than a joke.
“You think you could be that happy with that?”
“Happy,” she repeated, her mind deep in thought. “I don’t know. Happiness is awfully fleeting in
any case, isn’t it?”
“I mean...not always,” Seokjin objected. “Haven’t you ever been with someone where even on your
worst days you’re happy because it’s them? ”
“Sure,” she agreed. “Like right now.”

He froze. “N-Now?”
“Not right NOW,” she tutted, running a hand through her messy hair. “You wish. But right now in
my life, yeah. There’s someone.”
“Can I ask who?”
“There’s this guy at my university,” she began, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “Really cute. His
name’s Kyungsoo. A year older than me. We met through mutual friends, nothing crazy.”
“Are you guys dating?”
“Dating?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “What’s the point? I can’t. I can admire him in secret,
that’s all. He probably just thinks of me as a cute dongsaeng anyway. I mean, what else can I ask of
him? There’s nothing I can offer him in the end.”
She was awfully blunt. And it was, in a way, refreshing.
“How bout you?” She turned the question on him. “Anyone special for you?”
Seokjin chewed on his lip before nodding yes.
“What are they like?” She pressed.
“We met in high school. Our very first year. They…it’s hard to put into words, what they’re like.
They’re my other half, I guess. Better half.”
“So you two are together?”
“Not quite.”
It wasn’t all too far, the distance between Busan and Daegu. But he’d never felt further away from
Kim Taehyung.
---
He moved out of the dormitories in late June per his parents’ insistence. A chic apartment in a
modern building just a stone’s throw away from campus. “Why is this necessary?” He questioned
them. “You need to learn to live on your own. To maintain your own place.” To which he shrugged
his shoulders and obliged. They were covering all the costs; purchase of the actual property, brand
new furniture, state of the art appliances, a stunning flat screen TV complete with accompanying
consoles.
His friends were over the moon, ecstatic at the prospect of hanging out in Seokjin’s new man cave.
To lounge about on his cloud-like sectional. Roll around on his ridiculously fluffy carpet. Spend
hours in front of the television dueling it out on the Playstation. “You’re so lucky!” Jungkook cried
upon seeing the space for the first time. And he knew his friend was right; most people around him
couldn’t afford the same luxuries.
But it was strangely bittersweet to bid his roommates goodbye. Sure, their dormitory at Konkuk
would transform into a furnace over the summer months, the aircon out of service half the time,
ceiling fans their only saving grace, the whole building hot and stuffy, stale with the stench of
sweat. And sharing a bathroom with an entire floor of disgusting sophomore boys; he was thankful
that such miseries would be a thing of the past. Yet there were certain aspects of communal living
that he would inexplicably miss, like Taejoon’s obnoxious sweet talking to his girlfriend over the
phone, or the sound of Minho’s nerdish chortles coming from the far corner, or the deep,
existential discussions with Sungmin at four in the morning.
After clearing out his bunk and dragging the last bag out of the room, he turned around to take one
last look at the three of them; Taejoon and Sungmin in their respective bunks, limbs dangling
dangerously over the edges. Minho peeking out from behind his desk. “We’ll be at your place ALL
the time,” Sungmin warned. “See you, Jin.”
Yet whenever his friends would ask to come over, there was just one small issue at hand: the fact
that Joowon was always there.
He made the mistake of giving Joowon his passcode on one occasion, out of sheer convenience
and with little thought to its consequences. And ever since the elder gained premium access he
began taking full advantage of it, often times showing up unannounced and earning a scolding from
the younger. But as much as Seokjin tried to lay down the law, he didn’t really know how to stop
Joowon from bleeding into his life. Because at the end of the day, he didn’t know how to stop
himself.
So perhaps it was a blessing, that the beginning of July reined in a busy season for Joowon. With
students out of school for a couple of months, the gym experienced a sharp surge in clientele,
desperate stragglers attempting to get in shape on a last minute basis. Joowon being preoccupied
with work meant that Seokjin could shift his focus a bit more towards his old friends instead.
Jungkook had taken a keen liking to Seokjin’s new man cave, the boy frequently dropping by in
Joowon’s absence to play hours upon hours of video games. It was on one particularly sweltering
afternoon that the two were going head to head at Mario Kart, caught in their usual trance-like state
until Jungkook’s phone vibrated noisily on the coffee table. “Wait, pause pause pause,” he
muttered, the television falling to a silence as he scooped up the device and pressed the “answer”
button.
Seokjin only caught a brief glimpse of the name on the screen.
“T-Hey.”
He could hear a low murmuring on the other line, Jungkook chuckling a couple of times in
between before finally clearing his throat and speaking into the receiver. “Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah,
sounds good. I’m still on. I’ll see you there. Okay. Sounds good. Bye.”
Despite hanging up the call rather quickly, neither bothered to resume the game immediately after.
Jungkook knew that Seokjin knew who was on the other line, the latter boy suddenly feigning
thirst and taking hefty gulps of water to dispel the awkwardness.
“So uh...Tae is back in town.”
“Nice.”
“He just got back today. A couple of us are gonna eat dinner with him. Well, just me and Yoongi.”
“You leaving soon?”
“Yeah, in a bit.” A wary pause. “You...you wanna come?”

And Jungkook knew that Seokjin knew he was only asking out of courtesy.
“No, no. You go ahead,” he smiled, ruffling Jungkook’s hair with an air of nonchalance. “Thanks
for the invite though.”
“What’re you gonna do for dinner then?” Jungkook blinked at him innocently. The kid was the
human embodiment of a headache ninety-nine percent of the time, but Seokjin admittedly had a
crippling weakness for his big puppy eyes.
“I’m probably gonna order in. Watch some TV, get some rest. Got a big day at work tomorrow.”
“Ehhh? That sounds boring as hell. Are you sure you don’t wanna-”
“It’s fun to me!” He lied, picking up his controller to jump back into the game. “Let me kick your
ass one more time before I let you go.”
And hours later, after Seokjin had indeed kicked his ass (severely), Jungkook found himself
reuniting with Taehyung in front of a bustling shopping plaza, the boy already engrossed in
animated conversation with Yoongi standing by his side. The moment Taehyung noticed Jungkook
coming into view he split into his classic boxy grin, opening his arms for a warm hug and offering
a hearty clap on the back. “Look who it is,” Taehyung drawled with a hint of Daegu satoori.
But when Jungkook pulled away from the embrace, when he got the chance to stand back and get a
good look at his old friend standing before him, he hoped to God it wasn’t too obvious, that he was
scrutinizing his every move with nervous care. From the blinking of his eyes to the width of his
smile to even studying his posture.
Was he as bad at hiding his unhappiness as Seokjin was?
In the end he couldn’t tell. Taehyung liked to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he also had a knack
for rolling said sleeve up if he had to. And the Taehyung in front of him was throwing his head
back in laughter, dressed tactfully for the sultry weather, flowy linen blouse framing his
blossoming shoulders, tiny rivers of sweat trickling down his neck. His hair was now a pretty peach
color, just like the fruit in the peak of summertime.
“How’ve you been?” Jungkook asked.
“Good. Really good.”
Chapter End Notes
Sorry for a bit of a wait for this chapter. I was kinda stuck in a rut.
Chapter Notes
Just a reminder that this is coming of age and slow burn angst HAHA. Enjoy.
All three heads snapped up at the sound of thunder, eyes catching a glimpse of an ominously dark
sky. They’d planted themselves at a jokbal stand a little ways off the main road, feasting heartily
on rich meat and cold liquor.
“Is it gonna rain?” Yoongi wrinkled his nose.
“It wasn’t in the forecast,” Jungkook muttered, tearing pork off the bone with his teeth.
Mere seconds later, as if a direct reply, the storm clouds above them split open, rainwater pounding
into the pavement so loudly they had to shout at one another across the tiny table.
“You guys wanna stay and drink some more?” Yoongi yelled over the noise.
“YES PLEASE!” Taehyung cried with enthusiasm.
They were already two bottles in, Yoongi and Jungkook hardly suffering a dent, Taehyung slightly
buzzed but just the right amount. Around them passerbys scurried through the downpour to duck
under awnings, but their little trio remained safe and sound under the table’s large umbrella. The
rain, if anything, was somewhat of a relief in the July heat, a light mist spraying their feet and their
backs as they cracked open another soju. “Feels nice,” Jungkook hissed with satisfaction.
Lifting their glasses to a gentle clink, they slung back the alcohol and let it scorch their throats,
Taehyung making a strangled noise before downing a bit of grape juice as a chaser. Yoongi
watched their tipsy friend with mild amusement.
“You’re glowing, Tae.”

“Am I?” He gasped, hands coming to his cheeks to feel at his skin.
“No, not glowing from the alcohol. Just glowing in general.”
It was true, Yoongi’s observation. Taehyung was radiant. Tanned skin, bright, peachy hair to
compliment it. Toned muscles rippling underneath his linen shirt.
“Are you checking me out?”
“Pfft. I’m just making an objective statement, calm down.”
“You don’t have to be so coy about it.”
“But in all seriousness, you must be quite the catch on campus,” Yoongi continued with sincerity.
“Anyone on your radar these days?”
Taehyung merely batted his long eyelashes in response. “You think so?”
“Well ARE you seeing anyone?” Jungkook chimed in with an equally earnest expression, causing
Taehyung to burst into giggles.
“Why are you two so serious all of a sudden? So what if I’m seeing someone?”
“Well are you, or are you not?” Jungkook pressed, this time voice slightly raised. The two used to
bicker endlessly throughout middle school and high school. He could feel his blood pressure rising
by the second, his patience growing thin once more. Just give us a straight answer, you brat.
“Not telling you!”
“FINE! NOT INTERESTED ANYWAY!” At this point Taehyung was cackling with glee, which
only pissed Jungkook off more.
“Well, forget about me then. What’s new with you, hot shot?”
A scowl, followed by a shake of the head. “Nothing,” Jungkook mumbled bitterly. “Same old.”
“Aww come on. There’s gotta be something. Drama at school? At home? Girl drama? Drama
llama?”
“Okay, fine. FINE. I’ve got something, I guess.” He cleared his throat. “Jimin and I are thinking of
renting an apartment together.”
“Oh yeah?” Taehyung raised an incredulous eyebrow. “How come Minnie didn’t tell me about
this?”
“Because it’s not until next semester,” Jungkook explained matter-of-factly. “We’ll probably move
out sometime in September. So right now we’re just casually looking. It’s still a bit early.”
“You guys sound like a freakin’ married couple,” Yoongi chortled.
“They ARE a married couple.” Taehyung agreed. “But why all of a sudden though? The dorms not
good enough for you two?”
“No, it’s not that. I think after we saw Jin’s new apartment-”
Like clockwork, his eyes darkened upon hearing his name, the atmosphere shifting from airy and
light to chokingly heavy. Even Yoongi, who remained oblivious to Seokjin and Taehyung’s
circumstances, noticed the boy’s sudden change in expression.
“Ha! That bastard,” Yoongi hurriedly chimed in to alleviate the tension. “He didn’t even tell me
about his pla-”
“DON’T.”
Silence, save for the pouring rain.

“Don’t.” Taehyung practically growled. “Don’t mention his name in front of me.”
As much as Jungkook and Taehyung bickered and teased each other over their eight years of
friendship, never had the former seen the latter actually angry.
It was mildly terrifying.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook blurted nervously. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out.”
“Seriously, not a hint of it.”
“I’m sorry. I promise, no more.”
Yoongi merely observed the exchange with a mixed look of perplexion and concern. Gingerly he
reached for Taehyung’s shot glass, sliding it away from him as a precaution. “Tae, are you okay?”
To which Taehyung promptly yanked it back, grabbing the nearest bottle of soju and pouring
another splash for himself.
“I’m fine,” he murmured, simmering down. “I told you guys. I’m good.”
---
He noticed numerous changes upon his return to his father’s company. For one, Beomseok and
Jaehyuk were both gone, Beomseok having found a higher position at a rival corporation, Jaehyuk
having moved to Tokyo with an entirely different career trajectory. The rest of the team remained
just the same as last summer.
He first bumped into Nayoung in front of the shiny new coffee machine, the elder preoccupied on
filling her cup with fresh brew before glancing up to spot Seokjin.
“Welcome back,” she muttered, giving him a light pat on the shoulder before walking past him.
Nothing more, nothing less. Still the effortlessly cool noona he remembered.
He split his summer between two different departments, both of which were run entirely by glum,
middle-aged men, all of whom were exceedingly paranoid around Seokjin and handled him like
fine china. Hence most of his days were spent in focused silence, completing his tasks dutifully
with very little room for small talk and banter.
Even during lunch breaks he ate mostly alone, on some days joined by Yechan or Kangmin if they
could spare time from their busy schedules.
On an unassuming Wednesday afternoon he walked into the employee breakroom a bit later than
usual, the tables empty save for one in the back, where Nayoung was unpacking the takeout she’d
just picked up.
“Can I sit here?” He asked tentatively, receiving a nod in return.
He slid into the seat opposite the woman, who remained fixated on her phone for a good couple of
minutes before finally tucking it away.
“Sorry about that,” she mumbled, digging into her food. Seokjin was already halfway done with his
meal.
“Oh don’t worry about me,” he assured. “I know you’re busy.”
“Actually, I was looking at the score for the soccer game,” she admitted, chuckling to herself. He
couldn’t help but crack a smile in return; her honesty was refreshingly distinctive.
“You learning a lot on the new team, Seokjin-ssi?”
“Yeah. Song Boojangnim is teaching me a lot.”
“Song,” she mumbled, mulling over the name. “The guy with the bald spot right?”
“Yeap, that’s the one.”
“Complete asshole. Good worker, shit personality. But don’t tell anyone I said that.”
To which Seokjin threw his head back in laughter. “Okay. Secret’s safe with me.”
She smiled fondly back at the boy, eyes swimming in pools of pity: for at the end of the day, he
was just a kid. A kid who was brilliant, by all means; one of the fastest learners, the most
conscientious of workers she’d come across in all her time at the company. Whether he was
capable or not was out of the question. But did he want to bear the burden? The pressure of
shouldering a corporation that was born out of his father’s pride, but never of his own?
She had a feeling he didn’t.
“Eat more with me,” she suggested, tossing the empty box into its bag. “I usually take a late lunch
around two, if you don’t mind.”
He seemed pleased with the proposition. “I don’t mind at all.”
And for the rest of the summer he ate with her without missing a day. Because for that brief but
wondrous hour he could forget that he was the CEO’s son, and pretend he was just another intern.
---
Namjoon returned from America for the first time since he’d left, spurring a frenzy within the
group as each boy scrambled to meet up with him and make up for lost time. When asked what he
wanted to do, nine times out of ten he always suggested something involving nature , something
outdoors . It was difficult to object to him; after being apart for so long, they wanted nothing more
than to honor his every wish.
It was a gorgeous Saturday evening, temperate and breezy, a rarity for the tail-end of July. Joowon
had several clients at the gym that afternoon then dinner plans in Gangnam after. Taking advantage
of the weather and the absence of the elder, Seokjin, along with Jimin and a newly reunited
Namjoon, opted to rent bicycles along the Han River.
They traversed in a row along the water, golden sun beating upon their backs, tee shirts dampened
with sweat and sticking to their skin. They paused by a nice overlook to watch the sunset, Jimin
snapping a couple of polaroids to commemorate the moment. They waited until the sun slipped
under the horizon before heading back to Seokjin’s apartment, giddy over their unextraordinary
plans of ordering takeout and watching a movie.
He entered his passcode into the keypad, his friends chattering in high spirits on either side of him.
With a soft click the door unlocked, swinging open to an empty - no, occupied apartment. Joowon
was standing in the kitchen, still dressed in his workout gear, eyes flitting upwards at the
unexpected guests.
“Oh,” Seokjin mumbled, heart dropping. “You’re here.”
“Yeap,” the elder responded with equal lack of enthusiasm.
Joowon would never openly admit it, but he was the jealous type. Green with envy. With a quick
size up of a gorgeously tanned Namjoon and a pretty, petite Jimin, seeing the happiness on
Seokjin’s face in their company, watching said happiness dissipate once he realized he was also
home; he felt a sudden rage flare up within him.
He resumed what he’d been doing for the last ten minutes; preparing his simple dinner of a protein
shake and sliced fruit, veins bulging in his arms as he fumbled around with the knife.
“I thought you had dinner plans?” Seokjin implored, lingering by the doorway. His friends didn’t
step further in, either.
“Nope. Cancelled. Why, is that a problem?”
“No, no. Just wondering. This uh...this is Namjoon. And you know Jimin.”
“Hey,” Joowon muttered without bothering to look up.
They had planned on ordering delivery from a Chinese Korean joint around the corner, but the
atmosphere was suddenly too tense, too awkward, the elder roaming about the kitchen as if it were
his own, opening and closing the fridge a little too heavy-handed. Seokjin knew that Jimin already
knew; today was not the day.
“You two should have dinner together,” Jimin piped up, a forced smile stretched across his face.
“We’ll come by some other time.” Seokjin could feel his heart plummeting again, a sense of
desperation taking hold of him. Don’t leave. He wanted more time, just the three of them. Biking
together had been incredible, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to catch up with Jimin on Hongik
campus gossip. Wanted to find out more about Namjoon’s new girlfriend, Daisy.
“You guys can stay,” Joowon interjected. Like you have a say in this, Seokjin fumed to himself.
“No, it’s okay!” Jimin declined. “Another day. Jin, let us know if you’re free this week?”
He watched his friends dip out of the door and close it politely behind them, wishing he could
follow suit and disappear too. Instead he turned to face the exceptionally moody man, who had
migrated from the kitchen to the living room, taking a seat in front of the television with his dinner
of mixed fruits, a bottle of water, and a protein shake still rocking back and forth in his clenched
fist.
The apartment fell to a silence as Seokjin shuffled to the couch, settling at the far end of it, wholly
aware of the pounding in his chest, angry and fast. He tried his best to steady his breathing; deep
inhale, long exhale.
“Why do I feel like you’re disappointed to see me here,” Joowon stated, not looking at the boy and
switching on the TV instead.
“Where’d you get that impression?”
“Your face. It’s written all over it. I’m not an idiot.”
“Don’t accuse me. I never said anything.”
“You’d rather hang out with them. I know it.”

“It’s not that . I haven’t seen Namjoon in over a year. Can you blame me for wanting to spend time
with him?”
“They could’ve stayed,” Joowon retorted, stabbing a fork into a piece of melon all too
aggressively.
“REALLY?” The younger snapped. “With you acting like an asshole just now? You didn’t even
look them in the eye! How would they feel comfortable staying?”
“I was being perfectly normal, the fuck you talkin-”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Seokjin interrupted. “You were being rude. Of course they’d want to
leave right away. And who are you to talk like you own this place? You know this is MY
apartment, right?”
“YOUR apartment?” Joowon laughed, throwing down the fork onto his plate. “Who bought this
place? You or your precious parents?”
His question stung more than Seokjin would’ve liked.
“And don’t you fucking turn this on me,” the elder continued. “Making me the bad guy when
you’re the one with the shit attitude all the time. Fuck, Jin.”
“Let’s not get sidetracked here,” Seokjin replied as calmly as he could. “The way you talk to my
friends just now, it’s not okay. Talk to me like that, sure. I don’t care. But not them.”
“Now you’re accusing me of talking to YOU like THAT? I’m ALWAYS the one trying to lighten
the mood. You’re the one who’s walking around with the long face all the time. FUCK, seriously?
After all I’ve done for you?”
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR ME-“
“I HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOU. ALL THE FUCKING TIME.”

“MAKE SOME SENSE, JOOWON. WHO’S ASKING YOU TO DEAL WITH ME? JUST
FUCKING LEAVE THEN!”
“FUCK YOU,” Joowon bellowed, grabbing the nearest item (which happened to be the unopened
water bottle) and chucking it at the television, the screen crackling like fireworks before devolving
to black, a sizeable dent now in the center of it.
“You’re kidding me,” Seokjin breathed, seeing red.
Joowon knew he’d messed up. But pride would never allow him to admit it.
“Get out. Get out of my apartment,” Seokjin demanded.
They’d argued before; petty disagreements, tiresome bickering. But never had they fought quite
like this . Their eyes flickered between each other and the gaping fissure on the TV.
Joowon knew he’d crossed the line as he rose from his seat to grab his phone and keys off the
counter, slamming the door shut so loudly that the walls shook upon his exit. Seokjin sat in numb
disbelief for quite some time afterwards.
The first order of things was to call his parents and blame it on an accident. “Was moving furniture
around and a chair accidentally fell against it,” he lied through his teeth. “Be careful,” his mother
had simply warned. “We’ll get you a new one this week.” The easy part was over.
He ate dinner alone, boiling two packets of ramen and eating it straight out of the pot. It was too
late to call over Namjoon and Jimin, and frankly the fight lingered in the air, leaving a bad taste.
No longer was he in the headspace to entertain.
In the waning evening light he laid on his couch, watching the steely lavender of the sky outside
sink into black, realizing as night descended upon him that after losing Taehyung, he truly had
nothing left.
He couldn’t afford to lose the thing that caused him to lose Taehyung in the first place.
With fear crawling over his skin, he climbed into bed at a peculiarly early hour, hoping that sleep
would overtake his lingering nerves. Yet his efforts were to no avail; the bed was empty, his heart
was empty. Even though Joowon snored like a locomotive, even though the man’s presence barely
left him half full, he still needed him. So he sucked in his pride, typed out a brief message on his
phone, and pressed “send” with bated breath.
Seokjin: Hey
Seokjin: I’m sorry.
Half an hour later, his phone screen lit up with the long awaited response.
Joowon: What do you want.
Seokjin: Just come over.
The man showed up an hour later, letting himself in via keypad. Wordlessly he slipped into the bed
next to Seokjin, his back facing the younger, shoulders rising and falling beneath the covers. Just
as wordlessly Seokjin wrapped his arm around the elder’s torso, pulling him in close, fingers
tracing the hills and valleys of the muscles on his stomach.
“Sorry,” he whispered one more time for good measure.
The elder eventually turned onto his other side, pressing his lips to Seokjin’s and kissing him hard.
They also fucked, hard, before collapsing into a deep sleep.
Chapter End Notes
Thanks for your patience! I just arrived in Korea actually, it was a pretty crazy 24
hours of traveling. I am now in Busan.
I had this REALLY cool moment on my train from Seoul to Busan. Just this weird out
of body experience where our train pulled into Daegu station. I suddenly thought of
the scene between Taejin on the platform, when they say goodbye to each
other...there's so many places in Korea that I've researched for this fic, but seeing it
with my own eyes, in REAL LIFE is really fucking cool.
I will try to post one more chapter this week. :) Thanks for reading, I appreciate every
single one of you. As always feel free to leave me feedback, scream at me, whatever
tickles your fancy.
Special Chapter: Character Q&A
Chapter Notes
Hello! Since we're about halfway thru the fic at this point, I've decided to post a
special chapter of a "Character Q&A". This way you can get to know Taehyung and
Seokjin in a more fun/quirky way.
This was born out of a brainstorm session a couple weeks ago with a fellow writer to
get our juices flowing.
Hope you enjoy!
Character Q&A
1. Favorite food/eating habits?
Taehyung: Tends to overeat/overestimate his appetite (lucky he has a fast metabolism). Has a
very childish palette, enjoys fast food, junk food, tonkatsu, etc. Always down to eat.
Seokjin: A picky eater with a small appetite. Eats out of necessity and won’t go out of his
way for good food. Strongly prefers alcohol.
2. Favorite hobbies?
Taehyung: Doesn’t like physical activity. Enjoys photography, 1000 piece puzzles, cafe
hopping (for desserts, not the coffee).
Seokjin: Loves being active. Swimming, running, tennis. Also likes reading webtoons.
3. Do they like animals? Do they want pets?
Taehyung: LOVES animals, especially cats. Goes to cat cafes on his own to de-stress.
Seokjin: Really likes animals, but doesn’t know how to interact with them (i.e. how to hold
them), prefers to watch from afar.
4. Where have they traveled, and what’s their favorite city?
Taehyung: Hasn’t traveled outside of Korea before. Has a love/hate relationship with Jeju. Is
very curious about Europe though!
Seokjin: Has traveled extensively internationally; Europe, Asia, Americas, etc., but finds
traveling overrated. Would rather stay at home. Likes chill places, Hawaii is probably his
favorite.
5. Closer to mom or dad?
Taehyung: Mom
Seokjin: Mom
6. Typical weekend outfit?
Taehyung: Some sort of trendy jacket, ass-choking jeans.
Seokjin: Blue jeans, plain white tee. If he’s having a bad hair day, he’ll throw on a baseball
cap.
7. Childhood dream job?
Taehyung: Astronaut! He wanted to be the first man on Mars. Or a farmer.
Seokjin: Wanted to help in Santa’s workshop until Seokjung hyung told him Santa isn’t real.
Aside from that, also farmer.
8. Favorite season?
Taehyung: Autumn. Cold weather = good excuse for cuddles.
Seokjin: Spring. Low-key really loves flowers.
9. Coffee or tea?
Taehyung: NEITHER! Gets all his energy from soda and the people around him.
Seokjin: Coffee all the way. But has to put milk/sugar in it. (Doesn’t understand how Yoongi
can just drink it black.)
10. Favorite subject in school (pre-university)?
Taehyung: History and literature.
Seokjin: Math.
11. Boss lets them out early, they’ve got the rest of the day ahead of them. What do they do
with that time?
Taehyung: Text all his buddies and try to convince them to play hooky too.
Seokjin: Jump into a cab as quickly as humanly possible to go home and SLEEP.
12. Typical breakfast on a work day?
Taehyung: McDonald’s breakfast. Cheap, delicious. Never gets tired of their hashbrowns.
Seokjin: Usually skips breakfast.
13. Preferred means of transportation?
Taehyung: Likes walking (opportunity to hold hands). But if it’s too far, then bus.
Seokjin: Loves the bus. Enjoys looking at the scenery from the window.
14. Top bucket list item?
Taehyung: Has too many on the list to count and in no particular order. Kiss in front of the
Eiffel Tower. Bungee jumping. A lot of cliches but no shame.
Seokjin: To have a happy family of his own.
15. Beach, city, or countryside?
Taehyung: Countryside. It makes him emotional, he’s not sure why.
Seokjin: City. Total city boy. Loves the convenience of it and is a bit spoiled by luxuries
(but he’s oblivious to this).
16. First kiss?
Taehyung: 14 (It was magical.)
Seokjin: 13? 14? He doesn’t remember. It was awkward.
17. Favorite TV shows/movies?
Taehyung: Loves really deep, introspective films like Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless
Mind, Spirited Away, Interstellar, etc. Enjoys angst and suffering. Likes to hold lengthy
discussions after watching said movies. Really can’t stand horror though.
Seokjin: Likes shows/movies that are simple, comedic, and stress free. Enjoys watching
Running Man. Has a fascination with horror flicks but none of his friends want to watch with
him.
18. Favorite color?
Taehyung: Yellow
Seokjin: Blue
19. What type of music do they listen to?
Taehyung: Used to listen to whatever was charting, now listens predominantly to jazz.
Seokjin: Whatever's on the radio. Sometimes listens to jazz, only because of Tae though.
20. 7-year-old Taejin find 1000 won on the ground (~$1 USD). What do they do?
Taehyung: LOUDLY announces his find, then starts asking everyone in his vicinity if
they’ve lost the money. Needs people to know that he’s doing a good deed.
Seokjin: Quietly picks up money and hands it over to his parents. They’ll know what to do
with it. (They’ll just keep it for themselves but they won’t tell him that.)
21. Ideal date?
Taehyung: Spend ALL day outside. Get brunch at a cute cafe, take a long walk, go to an art
museum, go shopping, get dinner somewhere with a good view...and do you have energy to
get drinks? Or go CLUBBING?
Seokjin: Just wants to stay in and cuddle all day.
22. Fuck, kill, marry? (Within their friend group)
Taehyung: Fuck Namjoon, kill Jungkook, marry Seokjin.
Seokjin: Fuck Hoseok, kill Jungkook, marry Taehyung.
Chapter End Notes
Was this informative? Enjoyable? I hope so! :D
I am currently on vacation as you guys know, so upload speed may be more like one
chapter a week until mid December. I will try to push out more than that, but the next
couple of chapters are quite intense and editing will be taxing.
Next chapter...I hope to have up maybe in a day or two?
If you have any more questions concerning these characters, feel free to ask in the
comments below and I'll be happy to answer! No matter how silly or trivial! :)
Thanks for reading. <3

Chapter Notes
T/W: brief mentions of domestic violence in this chapter.
It was Namjoon’s idea ( of course it was). “Let’s have a picnic by the river!” He’d suggested so
enthusiastically it would’ve been cruel to say no. “Watch a sunset, see the Banpo bridge light
show!”
The weather wasn’t so cooperative this time, the sun sweltering throughout the day, baking the
world so that even at night the heat rose from the earth. Nevertheless they made the best of their
circumstances, taking a trip to the nearby convenience store to stock up on food and drinks. Made
their way to the riverside overlooking the famed bridge, sprawled out on Hoseok’s blanket in the
middle of the lawn, scattered their snacks messily between the six of them. Jungkook fished into
his backpack, removing from it his beloved bluetooth speakers, quickly linking it up to his phone
and designating himself as DJ.
Seokjin hadn’t seen Taehyung all summer. It was incredible, how easily you could avoid someone
despite living in the same city. Not once did they run into one another. Largely by the efforts of
their friends, who made sure to separate them at all costs. This particular weekend Taehyung
happened to be out of town. His exact whereabouts, Seokjin wasn’t sure.
Something had changed about Namjoon. He looked great . Not that he was all that bad before, but
now there was a certain glow to him, and it wasn’t just his fresh tan or his cooler haircut. He was
radiating with confidence, carrying himself with an air of authority that he hadn’t possessed in high
school. Perhaps it was the power of love, Seokjin mused as they hounded him with questions about
America, about Daisy, about what it was like to date a Korean American like her.
The night was utterly blissful, the six of them lounging lazily upon the grass, soft pop crooning
from the speakers, small crowds relaxing in their vicinity, some of them bobbing their heads to the
music as well. A little dog scurried over to their blanket, sniffing at their food before its owner
hurriedly called for its return. Yoongi and Jungkook were arguing over the current song choice,
Jimin and Seokjin listening and laughing at dumb and dumber. Hoseok and Namjoon were deep in
conversation, the former reaching up to Namjoon’s cheek to wipe away a stray crumb mid-
sentence. “Thanks,” the latter mumbled absentmindedly. Everything was almost perfect, almost
whole.
“How long will Tae be in Daegu?” Namjoon asked suddenly out of curiosity.
Seokjin nearly choked on his beer.
“Just for the weekend,” Hoseok replied.
“It’s for what, his friend’s uncle’s birthday or something like that?”
“Hyungsik, yeah,” Jungkook piped up.
“Yeah. I heard they’re going to this AMAZING restaurant, super expensive. Hyungsik’s dad is
covering everything.”
“Tae is lucky, isn’t he?”
He felt a sharp pang in his chest, as if someone were physically twisting a knife into his flesh.
Everyone knew who, what, when, where, why Taehyung was except him. It was never like this
before. He was always the first to know, and this new reality was positively jarring. Perhaps Jimin
noticed his friend’s crestfallen face, the boy fidgeting anxiously as he looked for an opportunity to
change the subject for Seokjin’s sake.
Everyone eventually found out about Seokjin and Taehyung. After everything that had transpired;
from that fateful night at the bar last New Years, to the burgeoning tension in the group chat
(neither boy uttered a word if the other spoke), to the fact that Jimin may have brought it upon
himself to bring everyone up to date on the drama (for the sake of preventing awkward encounters
in the future).
And so with a grand flourish of his hand Jimin pointed at the horizon, at the sun seated on the
water’s edge, lighting the sky on fire with its demise.
“It’s almost gone!” He cried, redirecting their attention to the spectacle before them.
It was that magical hour when the light show of Banpo Bridge would commence, a rainbow
display accompanied by swellings of music, hundreds choraling around the riverside to bear
witness.
They sat there for a long time that night, watching several light shows before deciding it was late
enough to get going. Gathering their trash and belongings, they took their time in walking along the
water, following the meandering path, ducking under low hanging branches and kicking rocks at
their feet.
They’d wandered into a rather secluded section of said path when Seokjin recognized a familiar
figure leaning against the railing by the river. A man of tall, stocky stature and a plain crew cut.
His eyes widened upon confirming the man’s identity.
“Hyung?”
The man whipped around at the familiar voice, eyes landing upon Seokjin and his posse, shoulders
relaxing into relief.
“It’s you guys,” Seokjung raised his eyebrows. “What a coincidence.”
“Always good to see you hyung,” Jimin batted his eyelashes, reeking of aegyo. He had a way of
winning over his friends’ family members that verged borderline manipulative.
“You guys heading out?” The elder asked.
“Yea. You wanna come with us?”
He ended up giving all of them a ride home, his five seater sedan transforming into a clown car for
seven. Seokjin sat in the front passenger seat, eyeing his brother to his left, tight-lipped and
brooding as usual, wondering what the hell he was doing at the river all on his lonesome.
---
The way the seasons turned, green unfolding into gold. It all happened too fast.
Autumn swept away the summer heat, forcing Seokjin, Sungmin, and their usual basketball crew to
throw on sweats for their next round on campus. By the end of the game half of the boys had
stripped off their shirts, chests bare and glistening in the September sun. Seokjin merely removed
his hoodie, opting to keep his shirt on, sweat slicking his back, the fabric sticking to him like a
second skin.
Most of the boys traversed to the dining hall for dinner, Seokjin bidding them goodbye and
hopping on a downtown bus instead. He’d changed into something a bit nicer, a pair of jeans and
boots, topped with a respectable knit sweater for his dinner with Joowon. One glance at the name
of the restaurant and Seokjin had known it was more of an upscale establishment. He wasn’t the
slightest bit surprised.
He watched the city of Seoul pass him through the bus window, a blur of muted golds and ruby
reds scattered between concrete greys. Everything, everyone around him was changing except him.
As the days cooled and the nights chilled, so did his and Joowon’s relationship; simmering down
from acts of passion to cold shoulders, harsh words, blistering fights. Was it after the incident with
the water bottle and the cracked screen? For despite Seokjin’s parents delivering a brand new
television just days after, Joowon quickly found new things to break when he’d descend into a
rage. Dishes, cups, anything he could get his hands on. As if a dam had opened and the waters
were now bursting forth, ugly and devouring everything in its path. He’d always known Joowon
was a man of passion. He now knew what it looked like when said passion was misdirected.
Seokjin never lifted a finger. Maintained an eerily calm exterior despite the way his heart would
quake with fear. Cleaned up the mess every time Joowon stormed out.
Why am I hanging on a thread?
The elder began spending less time at Seokjin’s apartment and apparently more at his own,
although Seokjin couldn’t be sure if he was telling the truth. All too often he’d arrive at Seokjin’s
place reeking of alcohol, smoke, sin, a hint of a scent he couldn’t recognize.
And the gears in Seokjin’s mind would begin to turn, grinding and gnawing at him, rendering him
restless on such occasions. For despite the physical nature of their relationship, it was only a matter
of time before the heart and the mind would interfere.
Why do we text like a couple. Why do we eat like a couple. Why do we fight like a couple. Why do
we get jealous...like a couple?
He shook off these thoughts as he neared his final destination, quickly noting that it was indeed a
high-end Italian joint, its sign small and pretentious, the interior dark and moody, the hostess
dressed to the nines in a sleek, all-black ensemble.
“Reservation of two for Choi Joowon.”
“Is your entire party here yet?”
“No, just a couple minutes.”
“Please take a seat, sir.”
He eyed the plush bench in front of the hostess podium, lowering himself into the middle of it
when his eyes landed on a table of four seated directly by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Two
middle aged couples, clinking wine glasses and laughing uproariously. He knew those laughs all
too well.
His parents, having a fabulous time with Taehyung’s.
A glimpse of Taehyung’s mother’s boxy smile, a peek of the back of Taehyung’s father’s head.
He suddenly felt sick, waves of guilt and paranoia crashing over him. Without giving it a second
thought he beelined for the hostess, advising her he no longer needed the table, then turned on his
heel to head straight towards the door, body slamming into that of Joowon’s who happened to
arrive at that very moment.
“Whoa, whoa,” the elder grabbed the younger by the shoulders, Seokjin’s jaw clenching upon
contact. “Where you goin’?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Wait why?” Joowon demanded. “I’ve been wanting to come here for months. The waitlist-”
“This neighborhood has plenty of better options. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“What’s wrong with you-” Joowon shoved past Seokjin, only to be forcefully reeled back.
“My parents are inside, that’s what’s. Let’s go.”
“So just because your parents are here you’re not going to live your damn life?”
To which Seokjin nibbled on his lip, not uttering a word until he’d dragged the man onto the
sidewalk outside.
“You make it sound much more simple than it actually is,” he seethed before pacing away from
the restaurant, making sure to head in the opposite direction of where his parents were seated.
“Actually, you’re making it more complicated than it has to be,” Joowon yelled after him, taking
large strides to catch up to Seokjin. He could sense a tinge of anger in the man’s tone, yet he was
too panicked to care.
“Would you slow down, Jin?” He snapped. “This was supposed to be a nice night. Like I don’t get
why you had to go and ruin everything again.”
He didn’t want to fight.
“Let’s just go back to my place,” Seokjin mumbled through gritted teeth. “Food will be on me.” A
pause. “I’m sorry, hyung.”
He had never called him “hyung” before. It was all it took for Joowon to give in.
---
He grabbed whatever he could from the fridge, the shelves lined with mostly beers, drawers filled
with a random mish mash of vegetables. Switching on the stove with a click, he whipped up a
simple meal for the two of them, Joowon moping in the living room and scrolling through his
phone.
“Careful with what you’re cooking. I’m on a strict diet.”
He set two plates of steamed vegetables and grilled chicken breast on the coffee table, each digging
into their own portion, only the sound of chewing filling the otherwise quiet apartment.
“So you’re just gonna live the rest of your life like this? Hiding?” Joowon swallowed. “Like a
coward?”
“You don’t get it.”
“No, it’s pretty clear to me. You can’t even walk into the same restaurant as your parents if I’m
with you. As if we can’t just act like we’re friends, like we always do. You won’t even let me
touch you in public, for fucks sake. And we’re always stuck in this fucking apartment, hiding.
From who? Who gives a fuck except you? I’m sick of it. I’m sick and tired of it.”
He could feel his anxiety mounting with every word.
“You knew what you were getting into.”
Which was every bit true. Joowon knew everything. He knew how conservative Seokjin’s parents
were. How the entire future of the Kim family business rested on his shoulders, how his parents
didn’t trust Seokjung to lead in the same way Seokjin could. How they’d already decided who he
was to marry several years down the line.
“You know my situation,” Seokjin continued, setting down his chopsticks onto an empty plate.
“Right, I did. In the beginning I knew it’d be like this. But not gonna lie, I thought you’d grow out
of it. Grow some fucking balls. Yet you’re still the same as you were before. A fucking coward.”
“Don’t call me that.”

“So then why are we even seeing each other?” Joowon plowed forward, he too setting down his
chopsticks on a mass of half-eaten food. “You know how many people want me, right? You know
how often I get hit on when I’m out and about? You have no idea what I’m giving up to be with
you, do you?”
“Joowon. Why are you talking as if we’re together.”
“YOU THINK WE AREN’T?” The elder laughed mockingly. “We’re WAY past that, sweetheart.”
“In your thick head, maybe.”
“You really think this is just fucking? That this is only about sex for you? Hmm? Then why do you
pick up my calls in the middle of the day? Why do you agree to go out and eat with me? Why were
you worried when I told you I hurt myself at the gym? Think about it, Seokjin.”
A lengthy bout of silence before the younger mustered a tight-lipped smile.
“Well this was a lovely dinner,” he muttered as he grabbed his own plate and maneuvered to the
kitchen, tossing the dish into the sink. “You’re a great conversationalist, has anyone told you that
before?”
“Don’t pull that sarcasm right now. I’m fucking annoyed.”
“Whatever.”
He disappeared into his room, the sound of him fumbling in his closet muffled through a closed
door. When the boy reemerged he had his old backpack slung over his shoulders, a light jacket
thrown over his pretty sweater.
“I’m going to a friend’s,” he advised, slipping on his sneakers. “Study group.”
“Wait,” Joowon sighed, running a hand along his jawline. “We’re seriously ending the
conversation like this?”
“Yeap. It’ll be a late night, so don’t wait around.”
“Unbelievable.”
“In fact, I’d appreciate it if you just went home.”
“I fucking will. Can’t stand this place anymore.”
“Great.”
“Goodbye, coward.”
“Yeah, and you’re a real hero, huh? Try not to break the TV while I’m gone. This time it’ll come
out of your own pocket.”
---
He took a cab straight to Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment.
Inspired by Seokjin’s impressive bachelor pad, the two friends had gone on a hunt for a place of
their own, eventually finding an old unit near Hongik, a miniscule one bedroom saved by a rather
charming rooftop.
Their space was about a third the size of Seokjin’s, cramped and musty, smelling faintly of old
wallpaper and weathered wood. If he wore a backpack he’d have to swivel to fit through the front
door. But somehow he didn’t mind its slapdash quality; if anything, he thought of it as cozy,
intimate, worn in. Especially with Jungkook’s used socks littering the floor, Jimin’s collection of
polaroids hung along the walls. Messy strings of fairy lights strewn across the windows, piles of
textbooks scattered on the coffee table. A plush, blue second hand sofa, mismatched cushions to
boot. Random clusters of potted plants, half of which appeared parched and in desperate need of
water. A bedroom so tiny they could only share a queen sized bed and one dresser for clothes. A
small glass bowl with a red beta fish inside, Jungkook’s proudest contribution to the Park-Jeon
household. His name was Baptong, named after the rice cooker sitting behind him on the kitchen
counter.
“Come here, Baptongie,” Jungkook cooed, pressed up against the bowl and teasing the fish with its
canister of food. “Look at our cutie little baby Baptongie.”
“Why did you have to name him that,” Seokjin questioned in mild amusement, watching his friend
play with the fish as if it were a puppy of some kind.
“I dunno,” the boy mumbled, sprinkling some flakes before capping the container. “The rice
cooker was the first thing I saw, I guess.”
They did zero studying. They tried, in all fairness. Camped out in the living area with their laptops,
notebooks, bottles of beer to ease the edge. Yet after a mere half hour of clicking through slides,
Jungkook slammed his computer shut, declaring that it was a hopeless cause and he’d rather just
drink his sorrows away.
The trio clambered to the rooftop, taking their beers with them. Jimin and Jungkook both sported
thick hoodies, Jimin practically drowning in a sweatshirt so large it could’ve doubled as a dress,
Jungkook donned in his favorite black sweatsuit. Seokjin shivered as the evening breeze sifted
through the holes in his sweater.
They climbed to the highest point of the roof, a small section built at a slant, perfect for
“stargazing.” The two residents proceeded upwards with expertise, lending Seokjin a helping hand
so that the three of them eventually laid side by side, eyes fixed to the sea of clouds rolling across
the sky.
Like second nature, Jimin huddled in close to Jungkook, head resting on his broad shoulder.
Jungkook’s arm looped around Jimin’s head so that he was absentmindedly carding through the
blonde’s hair, his free hand dangling the nearly empty bottle between his fingers. “You have
like…” Jimin trailed off, picking at Jungkook’s hoodie with a furrowed brow. “Fuzzies, all over.
Were you rolling around on the carpet again?” To which Jungkook responded with an unapologetic
“Yes.” A tired sigh from Jimin. “I’m gonna lint roll you later.”
Seokjin lay directly on Jimin’s other side, trying his best to focus on the scenery before him but
getting utterly distracted by the flurry of whispers and giggles to his left, how painfully it reminded
him of the way things used to be. When he and Taehyung used to lay like that, wrapped up in one
another’s embrace, innocent and unsure aside from the small hint of each other’s heartbeats.
“Remember how we used to do this in high school?” Jimin suddenly piped up, as if reading
Seokjin’s mind.
Of course he remembered. He recalled everything, every insignificant, silly detail. Taehyung’s

tiger eyes. Wind sifting through his wild hair. Boxy smile, surly laugh. Warm arms. He sealed his
eyes shut, foolishly hoping to see the boy when he opened them again, only to find a sad yellow
moon staring back at him.
“Hey,” Seokjin whispered. “How’s he doing?”
Jimin didn’t need Seokjin to elaborate further. He gave his friend the most recent rundown.
Taehyung is doing well. Been really good about studying this semester. Skipping class a lot less,
actually paying attention in lectures. Really diving into photography on the side, playing around
with polaroids just like Jimin. The two of them sometimes exchanged snail mail with the pictures
they’d taken. He just had a bit of a crazy weekend. One of his upperclassmen friends actually
landed their dream job and would be starting immediately after graduation. It was a whole slew of
surface level information, all of which was breaking news to Seokjin.
He blinked back tears, nodding when Jimin stopped to catch his breath. “Good,” he exhaled.
“That’s good.”
“Come here, you idiot. I’m cold,” Jimin mumbled to Seokjin, beckoning for him to move closer.
He obliged, scooting until the two were arm to arm, hip to hip, the smaller boy draping his leg over
his own.
---
He returned to his apartment at 5:00AM, expecting to be greeted by darkness but instead walking
into a dimly lit room, Joowon sprawled on the couch with a throw blanket draped over his torso,
shoulders rising and falling like a steady sea. He jerked awake upon Seokjin’s entrance, sitting
upwards at the sight of the boy standing by the door.
“You’re back,” he mumbled, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“You’re still here,” Seokjin replied stiffly.
“I am,” Joowon nodded, eyes downcast, thumbs twiddling. “Can you...can you come here for a
second?”
He slid his backpack off his shoulders and dropped it to the ground by the doorway, carefully
padding over until he stood directly in front of the elder, who, as soon as Seokjin was within reach,
wrapped his arms around the boy’s torso, burying his head into his stomach, catching the younger
completely off guard. Perhaps his head wasn’t screwed on straight; perhaps delirium had overtaken
him at such an hour. Nevertheless Seokjin didn’t fight it; allowed it to happen, albeit his own hands
hanging limply at his sides.
“Why are you still here?” He pressed one more time.
“Why?” Joowon muttered, voice faint, breath warm against Seokjin’s stomach. “You know when
we first started all of this it was just fun and games, right? Thought it was just...fucking around.
That it would stay that way.”
A shuddering breath.
“I don’t know what it is,” he continued. “Maybe because I know that’s all I’ll ever be to you. That
you won’t let me in.”
A long pause.
“But I want to try. I want to prove you wrong. I want to stay.” He swallowed down the lump in his
throat. “I want to be together, Jin.”
He tightened his hold as if for emphasis, prompting Seokjin to bring a hand to the back of his head,
stroking his hair with an unfamiliar tenderness.
“I’ll leave right now,” Joowon sniffed, peeling away from their embrace, looking up at the boy
with a tinge of shame. “But beyond that, I want to stay.”
“So just stay,” Seokjin whispered, heavy with sleep, heart weak. Reaching for Joowon’s calloused
hand, he repeated it one more time. “Just stay.”
He led the two to the bedroom, where they drifted to sleep in a matter of minutes.
---
By the end of October most of the leaves had died, the ones still clinging onto the branches brown
and withered, rustling in the wind like dry bones. On a particularly chilly Saturday morning
Seokjin threw on a long wool coat, slipped on a pair of boots, walked to the subway station where
he boarded a train, then a bus all the way to the Han River.
He got a text from Jimin saying that he was running late, stuck in traffic, asking Seokjin to forgive
him and wait just a couple minutes more. The boy obliged, tucking his phone into his pocket,
taking the time to meander along the path, kicking pebbles mindlessly until he came to a halt at the
place Jimin had chosen. He could see the grey of the river in the distance, little ships gliding along
the horizon. And he could also see a wooden bench facing the water, a lone man sitting upon it.
It was funny how he could recognize him from a mile away, even by just the back of his head. As
his footsteps ceased and said head turned at the shift in sound, his heart kicked to the very top of
his throat.
“Tae.”
“What are you doing here?” Kim Taehyung breathed weakly, standing onto his feet, hands balled
into fists. A gust of silvery wind passed between the two, ruffling their clothes and toying with
their tresses.
“Jimin,” they both answered in unison.
Jimin. I love you, but...
They stood frozen for a couple seconds in their place (for what felt more like hours ), eyes
unblinking and soaking the other in. He wanted desperately to do one of two things: either throw
himself full speed towards Taehyung and hold him for dear life, or run as fast as he could in the
opposite direction.
He chose instead to walk slowly towards the bench, lowering himself at the far end of it, Taehyung
following suit and settling back into his seat, the pair maintaining a good couple feet between
them. Like strangers.
Taehyung looked different. Grown. Baby fat gone and replaced with a chiseled, set jaw. A broader
chest, shoulders, back. Taller. Dressed in an elegant ensemble of a tan duster coat, dark jeans, and a
cashmere sweater. Hair falling messily into his eyes with tragic nonchalance. Beautiful, beautiful,
beautiful. Utterly, breathtakingly beautiful.
The boy held a paper cup between his long fingers, fiddling with it nervously as he felt Seokjin’s
eyes run wild all over him.
“You drink coffee now?” Seokjin asked.
“Nah, tea,” Taehyung mumbled, turning the cup around to display the tea bag label. The boy
refused to look up when he answered, focusing either on his shoes or upon the sifting river before
them.
“Jimin’s actually coming, right?” Seokjin confirmed, to which Taehyung nodded. “Yeah, just
texted him. He said he’ll be here in twenty.”
“Great.”
With a shaky sigh he stuffed his hands into his pockets, counting down the minutes until Jimin
would come to the rescue. It was like a friend shoving you and your crush into a closet; a total
middle school move. Except the two of them were grown adults, with a cold, dispassionate world
laid out before them.
“How are you?” Seokjin tried, detesting his pathetic attempts at initiating conversation. He hated
that Taehyung appeared increasingly uncomfortable, squirming in his seat every time he spoke.
“Good, good. Busy with school.”
“Same.”
Silence.
“You’re still seeing that guy, right?” Taehyung suddenly piped up, gaze fixed on the swaying trees
by the water.
“Yeah.”
“You’re happy?”
He considered the question, a simple enough, innocent inquisition that somehow left him tongue-
tied. It should’ve been easy to answer. Yet, after much hesitation:
“At times.”
He could sense that this response only irritated Taehyung more.
“How about you?” Seokjin asked, pretending it was for the sake of conversation when really, he
was burning with curiosity. “Seeing anyone?”
The boy shook his head. “Nope. No one.”
“I’m surprised. Feel like a lot of people would fall for you.”
“Well you didn’t.”
Seokjin wanted to dive head first into the river.
“Anyway,” Taehyung sighed. “I mean I’m cute, I know that. But I’m just not interested in dating
right now.”
“Give it time.”
“Yeah, time,” the boy repeated weakly. And then he sucked in a breath before releasing it with a
whisper: “I wonder...how much time do I have to wait for you to come around?” He finally looked
up from his paper cup, directly into the eyes of Kim Seokjin.
There came from behind them a pounding of footsteps, causing both boys to swivel around, Jimin’s
figure bounding towards them in a frenzy, scarf flapping behind him, cheeks rosy from the cold.
“Sorry I’m late,” he wheezed, skidding to a stop by the bench, his two friends rising to their feet.
“Shall we get going?”
“You’re fine,” Seokjin chuckled, allowing the blonde to lean against his frame to catch his breath.
“But listen, I gotta go, actually. I had plans after lunch and I won’t make it in time if I eat now. So
you two should just catch up. I’ll see you guys later.”
“You sure?” Jimin muttered, smile falling from his face, eyes wide like that of a puppy. Despite
the mild annoyance brewing in Seokjin’s heart he resisted the urge to give his friend a big hug.
“Yeah. Sorry, my fault. I should’ve told you sooner. Good seeing you, Tae,” he acknowledged
before waving goodbye.
They watched his backside grow smaller and smaller until he was no longer in view. The shorter
boy turned to his best friend, eyeing him nervously and shriveling behind his thick scarf. “You still
down to eat? I didn’t make you lose your appetite too, did I?”
Taehyung merely grinned at Jimin, throwing an arm around his neck and bringing him close to
place a quick peck on his temple.
“I love you, Chim,” he mumbled into his hair. “But please don’t do that again.”
“I know,” Jimin pouted. “Just hate seeing you both so down all the time. It hurts me, too.”
“Then just stay by my side,” Taehyung laughed gently. “That’ll make me happy enough.”
The entire encounter shook him to his core, as if one of his many recent dreams had sprung to life.
Seokjin in the flesh. How silly it was, to have to resort to dreams when once upon a time he got to
hold him, kiss him, call him his even if the other boy wouldn’t admit it.
And although he eventually filled Jimin in on how the arrangement played out, he neglected to
leave out little details. Like the heavy bags under Seokjin’s eyes, or how his hands trembled
violently, and it wasn’t because of the chill.
Chapter End Notes
Well? Thoughts? :D
I'm still in Busan. Tomorrow is my last day. I'm so sad, this place is gorgeous.
The picnic in the beginning of the chapter was inspired by the irl Hopekook picnic,
yes. I just think it's so cute that they did that haha.
The next couple chapters, warning, are very intense. A lot of shit is going to go down.
I advise you to just go over the tags again if you haven't in case anything is triggering.
Anyway, thanks for keeping up with this story. Any questions, I'm always ready to
answer. Take care!
Chapter Notes
T/W: Domestic violence.
He lived for Christmas music. Every year he’d start listening as early as September. It drove his
parents crazy, but his younger siblings loved it maybe even more than he did.
It was a couple days prior to December 25th, he and his family browsing through a large plaza in
Myeongdong, hashing out the very last of their holiday shopping. Mr. and Mrs. Kim wandered off
on their own missions, leaving Taehyung behind with Jeonggyu and Eonjin. “Oppa/hyung, buy me
this, please?” His little brother and sister seemed to alternate one after the other. “Okay, okay,
okay,” he obliged every time, treating them to an endless array of snacks much to their delight.
The family of five reconvened in the center of the mall, Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s arms weighed down
by large bags, Jeonggyu and Eonjin hastily grabbing a couple for themselves to lessen the load.
“We’ll head back first,” they advised their eldest son.
“I’ll stay here for a little longer,” Taehyung nodded. He was scheduled to meet Park Jimin in less
than an hour.
“Don’t stay out for too long. You’ll be back in time for dinner?”
“Yes.”
So long as he was home, he never missed out on family dinner.
He still needed to buy presents for Yoongi and Hoseok. He’d already purchased matching sweaters
for Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon, with Namjoon’s already shipped and on its way to a place
called “New Haven, Connecticut.” The three of them were rather simple-minded, easily pleased by
anything thrown their way. Yoongi and Hoseok weren’t exactly fussy per se, but over time he
learned that the two had incredibly specific hobbies and particular tastes. Hence his enlistment of
Jimin for last minute assistance on the matter.
He watched his family disappear through the revolving doors, turning on his heel to head out of the
main atrium and into the veins of the mall. But a certain sparkle from a jewelry store window
caught his eye, the boy forgetting his shopping duties for a moment to draw closer in hushed awe.
An array of the loveliest diamond rings, pear cuts, squares, glittering under a demure spotlight in
the display case. He leaned in to examine the pretty stones, only to catch a glimpse of something
else; a familiar figure lingering in the reflection of the glass. There were plenty of other men
walking about in similar attire, in a long coat and baseball cap, but for Taehyung it was an instant
recognition. How small Seoul could feel at times, for him to run into Kim Seokjin; of all people, of
all places.
With his eyes fixed on the glass, feigning continued interest in the jewelry, he watched Seokjin
shift uncomfortably in his place, standing across from a taller, larger man, a man waving his arms
wildly about, mouth moving as if he were barking. Yet Seokjin remained relatively motionless,
arms folded across his chest, shoulders slouched in a look of defeat.
That must be him.
There was something heartwrenching about the way he was standing. This was not the same
Seokjin that Taehyung used to know.
A sudden jerking motion as the taller man yanked on Seokjin’s arm, causing him to stumble
forward, then subsequently dragged out of the frame. Taehyung’s eyes widened in horror, the gears
in his mind switching to autopilot. Without giving it a second thought he whipped around from the
storefront, beelining for the pair traversing towards the mall’s exit.
“Jin!”
The boy with the baseball cap turned at the sound of his name, jaw dropping upon spotting
Taehyung fastly approaching.
“Tae…”
“Jin!” Taehyung exclaimed once more, perhaps a little too brightly given the evident tension.
“What are you doing-?”

The man by Seokjin’s side scanned Taehyung up and down in confusion. “Who are you-?”
“Old classmate,” he answered quickly, voice shaking yet not breaking eye contact with his friend.
“How are you?” He asked as if they were merely cordial acquaintances. “How’ve you been?”
“Good,” Seokjin smiled weakly, playing along with the act. “Back from Daegu?”
“Yeah. Just finished exams last week.”
“That’s awesome,” he replied hesitantly, gaze flitting to a fuming Joowon. “Sorry, we’re in a bit of
a rush today. Catch up later?”
“Oh! Okay, no worries,” Taehyung nodded, words tumbling out of him in haste. “Everything okay
with you though?”
“We’re in a rush, kid,” Joowon mumbled gruffly.
“Ah, sorry. Forgot to make the introduction. Taehyung, this is Joowon. Joowon, this is Taehyung.”
“Nice to meet you,” the younger bowed. The elder merely grunted in response.
“Sorry. We really gotta go,” Seokjin apologized as he began backing away from Taehyung. “I’ll
see you around!” Joowon was already many steps ahead.
“Catch up soon?”
“Sure!”
He stood in a daze in the center of the bustling lobby, sunlight pouring in through the glass ceiling,
warming his skin despite the cold sweat seeping from his pores. Something about the interaction
left him feeling awful; sickened, with a bad taste lingering on his tongue.
---
The two sat at a small table in the middle of the food court, sipping on bubble tea and
absentmindedly scrolling through their phones, shopping bags piled on the chairs next to them.
“You really think Yoongi would appreciate a bath bomb set?” Taehyung asked for the fifth time,
eyeing said bag with traces of doubt. “It’s kind of a weird gift, no?”
“Nah, trust me, he’s in this bathing phase,” Jimin answered confidently, inhaling a string of
bubbles in one go. “He just sits in the bathtub after classes and has existential meltdowns.”
“Isn’t he a bit too young for that?”
“Come on. It’s Yoongi.”
The two cackled aloud. Out of the seven of them they loved making fun of Yoongi the most.
Jungkook was a close second.
“Hey,” he piped up, after their laughter subsided.
“Mm?”
“Do you have the address for Jin’s apartment?”
Jimin was mid-swallow when Taehyung asked this, causing him to nearly choke on a tapioca ball,
hands reaching for his throat as he gagged in shock.
“JIMIN! Are you okay?!”
His friend held up a finger as if to shush him while he keeled over, hacking out a lung and causing
neighboring patrons to turn in curiosity. After a minute or so he finally straightened up in his seat,
eyes brimming with tears from all the coughing.
“Jin? As in Seokjin? As in Kim Seokjin?”
“What other Jin do we know?”
“I’m sorry,” Jimin shook his head, attempting to mask a smile. “Sorry. Since when...did...did my
plan work from last time?”
“Er...you could say that,” Taehyung lied through his teeth.
“So the two of you are on speaking terms again?” Jimin beamed. “Why don’t you ask him yourself
then, silly?”
“I wanna surprise him,” Taehyung mumbled sheepishly. “We’re working on it.”
“Man. I hope I’m not getting ahead of myself but I’m happy for you, friend. Anything for you
two.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Taehyung scrunched his nose. “I’m just dropping off a Christmas gift,
that’s all.”
“Alright, alright. I’m calm.”
“Do you know if he’ll be home tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow? Oh yeah. He’ll be bumming at home. I asked him to go out for dinner and he said
he’s gonna stay in.”
“Okay. Perfect.”
“Yeah. Something about not feeling well.”
---
Taehyung: Hey. Good seeing you earlier today
Taehyung: Was wondering if you’re free tomorrow night?
Taehyung: Wanted to check out your place, maybe catch up??
---
So Seokjin never texted back. It was fine, Taehyung convinced himself. Maybe texting was too
drastic of a first step. It’d been nearly a year, after all, since they last exchanged messages.
He took the bus cross town to Seokjin’s apartment, settled in the very back seat by the window,
fingers turning over a small box inside his coat pocket. He hadn’t lied about dropping off a gift. In
the time that Taehyung had waited for Jimin’s arrival the day prior, he’d ducked into that jewelry
store and purchased something small, but hopefully meaningful. Something tasteful, but not
romantic. A pair of classy looking cufflinks suitable for a CEO.
Even if Seokjin didn’t want to see him, at the very least he could drop off the item with the
building’s doorman. Yet as he walked through the double doors to see the staff behind the desk
preoccupied with the phone, he figured he might as well shoot his shot. See if he could get a hold
of Seokjin himself.
He slipped quietly past the attendant’s desk towards the elevator banks, taking the first available
car up. Nothing but the quiet whirring of machinery, the soft blinking of illuminated numbers. He
suddenly felt very small, like an astronaut being propelled into space, into infinity. What if Seokjin
really was home, if he really did open the door and welcomed Taehyung in? He hadn’t prepared a
speech, didn’t know what he’d say if prompted to speak. One year ago Taehyung ran away from
Kim Seokjin; now a year later, he was running back. Not to win over his heart. Just to win over his
friend.
A small jolt, then a soft “ding” as the car came to a stop, door sliding open to floor number eight.
Double checking the apartment unit number Jimin had sent via text, he followed the signs in the
direction of 8H, eyeing every door as he passed, the hallway silent save for the sound of faint
shouting growing ominously closer, louder as he plowed forward, a sinking feeling brewing in the
pit of his stomach. His footsteps slowed as he walked past 8E, 8F, 8G…
It was undeniable, unthinkable, every worst fear realized as the walls holding 8H practically
reverberated with yelling. Standing square in front of the doorway, he was surprised that none of
the neighbors had poked their heads out and called the police. In between strings of profanity were
moments of quiet and calm, assumingly Seokjin’s attempt to put out the fire. Taehyung could feel
his knees shaking, his breathing shallow as his long fingers traced the edges of the box in his
pocket. Should I just...hand it over to the nice doorman as planned and try texting him again? Yet
his feet refused to move from their place. Or should I...
He let out an audible gasp as he caught wind of the next sound, the unmistakable shattering of glass
on the floor. No longer could he walk away. He’d heard quite enough.
Two strong knocks on the door.
The chaos inside immediately died down, hysteria reduced to hush. He could hear Joowon
mumbling “Who the fuck-?” as he shuffled to the door, a brief pause before he swung it open,
revealing a frightened but determined boy standing in front of him. The same boy from the
shopping center just yesterday.
The two shared a long stare, Taehyung eyeing the sweat at Joowon’s brow, the veins bulging in his
neck, Joowon taking in Taehyung’s smaller frame, wide eyes.
“You again.”
“Hi,” Taehyung mustered, trying his best to appear calm, to keep himself from trembling. “Hi, yes.
It’s me, Taehyung. Is Seokjin there?”
“He’s not, goodbye.”
“Really? I-I could’ve sworn I heard his voice just now,” the younger pressed, placing his hand
between the door and the doorframe, eyes peering through the slit.
“He’s not available right now-”

“We were supposed to meet, though.”
“We’re kind of in the middle of something. Try your luck later.”
And there it was. A glimpse of broken dishware littering the hardwood floor.
“I just want to drop something off in person,” Taehyung insisted. He could feel the fury mounting
in the man before him. “Can I please speak to him? It’s Christmas.”
“I could care less if you’re Jesus Christ himself. Goodb-”
But before he could close the door further, Taehyung shoved his entire arm through, eventually
followed by his whole body, forcibly squeezing his way into the space, feet narrowly missing the
sharp shards on the ground.
In the brief seconds he had to observe his surroundings his eyes traveled across a landscape of
chaos, as if a tornado had pummeled through the room, leaving furniture upturned, cushions
scattered, glass, glass, and more glass akin to freshly fallen snow. Seokjin was nowhere to be seen
in the light. It was when his eyes drifted to the dark that he spotted his friend shrouded in the
shadows of the kitchen, a look of utter fear and panic etched across his face. It made Taehyung see
red.
He could hear a voice approaching from behind.
“You’re fucking trespassing-”
Taehyung spun around, knocking Seokjin’s boyfriend in the side of his face.
Chapter End Notes
I'm in Seoul right now. God, it's cold here. Like at least 10 degrees colder than Busan.
Happy birthday to our sweet boy Seokjinnie! You are the best boy, we love you.
Your thoughts on AOML Seokjin and Taehyung though? Please share. Love reading
your comments.
ALSO! If you see any typos, feel free to point it out to me. There was one chapter a
while back where I wrote "Scott over" instead of "Scoot over." Someone caught it, but
it was like wayyy after the chapter was posted haha. THE HUMILIATION! I am the
only one editing this story so sometimes I miss things.
Chapter Notes
As you can see, I am uploading only once a week now since I'm still traveling. Thanks
for understanding! Once I get back home I'll try to update more often.
How long the two were on the ground, he couldn’t be sure. He lost track of time, of reality, of self.
Had he gone rightly insane? For there he was, straddling a guy almost double his size on the floor
of his ex-lover’s apartment, blindly throwing one punch after another, the elder underneath him
caught off guard and trying his best to protect his face, not once fighting back. Yet even upon
seeing Joowon in his state of defense Taehyung couldn’t stop himself, rivers pouring down his
cheeks as he swung over and over again, until he felt two strong arms pulling him up by the
armpits, dragging him off of the body on the ground, the same arms wrapping around him, holding
him back, begging him to relent.
“HOW DARE YOU HURT HIM,” Taehyung screamed, flailing wildly. “HOW DARE YOU
FUCKING HURT HIM.”
The man slowly eased himself up to a sitting position, hands dabbing at the liquid dribbling from
his nose, eyes widening upon spotting the crimson staining his fingers. Unlike the fury he’d been
embroiled in moments earlier, he was now stuck in an odd daze, as if just waking from a long
dream.
“YOU FUCKING SCUM,” Taehyung snarled through fresh tears as Seokjin’s grip tightened
around him, the elder staring incredulously at the sight before him, of his boyfriend holding this
mystery man who’d only made his presence known just one day prior.
“Who...who the FUCK are you?”
“Calm down, both of you,” Seokjin admonished.
With a slight stumble Joowon rose to his feet, Seokjin instinctively moving back, shielding
Taehyung away from the man. But all the fight had been drained out of him, replaced instead by
sobering shock and shame.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” Joowon muttered, voice dangerously low as he reached up to catch
the blood still flowing from his nostrils. “Case in point, Jin. Your bullshit? Your...your secrets?”
He pointed angrily towards Taehyung. “I can’t deal with this anymore. Fuck you. Fuck this. I’m
out.”
With a swift motion he grabbed his winter coat from the counter, digging out a cigarette and
shoving it between his lips, slamming the door behind him with a bang. It was the fastest exit
Seokjin had ever seen.
A long sigh escaped from his lips as he maneuvered through a field of glass to deadbolt the door.
Joowon would return, he was sure of it. Certainly not tonight, maybe not even tomorrow; this time
around he’d need more space to cool down. But the man always came crawling back, no matter
how great his pride, no matter how nasty the fight. For now his absence was welcomed, the
apartment simmering down to silence save for the soft whimpering from Taehyung crumpled on
the kitchen floor.
“Tae,” Seokjin whispered, kneeling by the boy’s side. “You okay?”
He peered into Taehyung’s face, searching for signs of injury, relieved to find none. Despite
Joowon’s atrocious temper, he’d yet to lay a finger on Seokjin, and thankfully not on Taehyung,
either. In the most helpless of ways he watched hot tears trickle down the boy’s cheeks, his
breathing shallow and shaky as he tried to regather his composure.
“Stay here,” Seokjin mumbled, ducking into his bedroom and returning with a box of tissues.
Taehyung offered a weak “thank you” before retrieving one, dabbing at his eyes in between
hiccup-y sniffles. Seokjin lowered himself directly in front of him, legs crossed, elbows propped on
his knees, waiting for the crying to die down.
“How did you get here, Tae?”
The boy was playing with the wet paper in hand, absentmindedly ripping it into shreds, a funny
habit he’d had for as long as Seokjin could remember. He smiled fondly upon witnessing it again, a
certain warmth flooding through him despite their ugly circumstances.
“Did he hurt you?” Taehyung blurted instead, ignoring the question.
“No, he didn’t. He doesn’t,” Seokjin rolled up his sleeves to prove it.

“But he might. He could, right?”
“He hasn’t though.”
A long pause as Taehyung mulled over the absurdity of Seokjin’s last statement.
“How did you get here, Jin?” Taehyung looked up, lip wobbling again. “How did you end up like
this?”
“What, me and him?”
He nodded.
“It’s…it’s not always like this. You just caught us at a bad time.”
“This is ‘bad’?” He scoffed, motioning towards the wreckage in the living room. “This is hell, Jin.
You shouldn’t be living like this. No one should.”
He has a point, Seokjin thought to himself, staring at his own lap in a stupor.
“You hear me?” Taehyung begged, hand latching gently around Seokjin’s. It was (quite bluntly)
their first skin-on-skin contact in nearly a year, shivers running up both of their spines upon
touching, as innocent of a gesture as it was. Intuitively he wrapped his fingers around Taehyung’s,
relishing in the feeling of comfort, of home.
“Tae, your knuckles,” he remarked, thumb gliding over the grisly splotches of blue and purple.
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt-”
Nevertheless he excused himself for a second time, digging through his freezer until he found a bag
of frozen peas. He handed said bag to the boy on the ground, urging him to place it over his
bruises.
“I’m gonna...clean up this mess,” Seokjin sighed, readying himself to stand up only to be quickly
pulled back down.
“Jin. Who...who have you become?”
“I feel like I don’t recognize you anymore. This...this isn’t the Jin I know. You’re like a shell of
him.”
“Or maybe this is who I really am,” he spoke with a lightness, as if the whole thing was a laughing
matter.
He grabbed the broom and dustbin from the closet and began sweeping, glass clanging together
noisily in the process. Taehyung remained on the kitchen tile, zoning out in a dumbfounded state,
trying to make sense of everything that had just transpired.
“Hey,” Seokjin mumbled, “Don’t just sit on the ground. Go into my room, relax on the bed.”
“He won’t come back, will he?”
“Well, not tonight, no,” Seokjin chuckled. “I think you scared him off.”
How did he manage to find the humor in all of this?
Taehyung stood shakily to his feet. “Let me help you clean.”
“No. Stop. I don’t have an extra broom. Just go to my room, Tae. I’ll be there when I’m done.”
He knew better than to argue with Seokjin; his most stubborn friend...an idiot, a self-sacrificing,
self-deprecating idiot. With heavy feet he trudged down the hall to the dimly-lit bedroom, taking in
the rumpled sheets, the plain walls, the bare minimum for furniture. A relatively empty table was
pushed up against the window, a sleek monitor occupying most of its surface, albeit a small picture
frame placed off to its side. Upon closer examination it was a photograph of the seven boys
standing in front of their high school gates on graduation day, arms wrapped around each other’s
shoulders, toothy smiles plastered all over their faces. A comfortable-looking chair complimented
the desk, a grey hoodie draped over its back. Taehyung recognized the hoodie as his own.
He sat on the very edge of the bed, turning his hand over to examine his knuckles. The bag burned
ice cold, numbing his skin until he could no longer feel any pain. He inhaled deeply in an attempt
to calm his racing heart, breathing in spicy notes, the familiar scent of Seokjin’s cologne. He
wanted to collapse onto the bed, roll around in the blankets, drown himself in the smell.
A considerable amount of time passed before he heard the sound of Seokjin approaching, the boy
entering the room and settling into the mattress as well, maintaining a safe space between the two.
“How’re your knuckles?” He asked, lifting the corner of the bag to take a look.
“Fine,” Taehyung muttered, letting his friend fuss over his hands for a while before finally piping
up.
“Are you staying here tonight?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You shouldn’t. After everything that happened here, you shouldn’t. Do you think you could sleep
well?”
Judging by the bags under his eyes, Taehyung suspected that Seokjin probably hadn’t “slept well”
in a very long time.
“Where am I gonna go, my parents’?” He sighed. “Kind of the last place I want to be.”
“No,” Taehyung shook his head. “We’ll go to Jimin’s.”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “His place is so small, though. I don’t wanna disturb him
and Jungkook.”
“I already asked him. Just now. He said he’s waiting for us.”
“You’re joking.”
“You need to get out of this apartment. Just for one night. You need to clear your head.”
A lengthy pause as Seokjin chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over the proposition.
“Jungkook said he taught Baptong a trick and he wants us to see it,” Taehyung whispered.
To which Seokjin burst out laughing for the first time that day, nodding as he imagined Jungkook
looming over the fish bowl to “train” the poor thing. Perhaps it would be nice...healing, even, to see
their friends again. And to witness just what Baptong could do.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung grinned.
“Yeah.”
---
He tossed two pairs of pajamas into his backpack, one for himself and an extra pair for Taehyung.
Grabbed other necessities like a couple of toothbrushes, his laptop just in case, chargers.
They shared a cab to Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment, Seokjin’s gaze fixed on the distant city
lights, Taehyung’s eyes glued to Seokjin.
After climbing up several flights of stairs and panting heavily by the door, they gave the Park-Jeon
doorbell a couple of rings, moments later greeted by an exceptionally bubbly Jimin.
“HEYYYYY best friends!” He cried, pulling them one by one into a hug before ushering them
inside.
Like a bear emerging from hibernation Jungkook lumbered out of the bedroom, donned in his usual
basketball shorts and oversized hoodie, a bowl of cereal in hand despite the late hour. “What a
pleasant surprise,” he commented, sounding awfully sarcastic even though he meant every word.
He led the boys in front of his beloved fish tank where he proudly showed off Baptong’s new
trick; essentially he’d point at a random spot on the glass and Baptong would swim to wherever his
finger was. Taehyung gasped in amazement, Seokjin unsure if he was genuinely impressed or if he
just wanted to make Jungkook feel good about himself. Yet Seokjin remained rather
underwhelmed, a smirk creeping to his lips as Jungkook asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“I think he just thinks you have food.”
“What? NO! It’s not that simple,” Jungkook protested.
Jimin leaned against the kitchen counter in quiet observance, wearing a classic collegiate Yale
sweatshirt, sporting a pair of smart-looking glasses and flannel pajama bottoms, blonde hair a
tousled nest as if he’d just woken up from a nap. He smiled sheepishly between Taehyung and
Seokjin, without the slightest clue as to why the two were suddenly crashing at his place; Taehyung
hadn’t explained much over text. His eyes flitted to the black and blue on Taehyung’s knuckles,
questions forming at the tip of his tongue. But he knew that now wasn’t the right time to ask. He
simply wanted to enjoy the moment; the four of them back together again, teasing and joking and
laughing just like the good old days.
They ordered take-out of chicken and beer, planting themselves in front of the television once the
food arrived. They spent a solid twenty minutes arguing over which movie they’d watch before
finally settling on Jungkook’s pick.
The couch was too small for all four, the hosts giving up the seats to their guests, they themselves
sprawling out on the carpet in front of them, Jungkook lazily propping his head on Jimin’s thigh.
“You’re gonna fall asleep if you watch like that,” Jimin tutted as the opening scene began. “Will
not,” Jungkook retorted. “I’ve wanted to see this movie for forever. ”
Yet by the time the end credits were rolling the boy was indeed knocked out, snores and all, drool
dribbling out of his mouth and onto Jimin, who had stayed awake the entire film, soaking in every
detail quite intently.
“Jungoo, you big dumb,” Jimin giggled, pushing back his friend’s hair from his forehead. “You
can’t sleep here. Get up, you.”
“Hnngggg.”
“You big old baby,” Jimin jiggled his leg, causing Jungkook’s head to roll off of it and onto the
ground with a thud. “Come on. Up up up.” With a strong tug he hoisted him upwards, dragging him
out of the living room and into their bedroom.
Their apartment was never meant to house four people, but the sleeping arrangements had been
decided as such: Taehyung and Jungkook would sleep in the bed, while Jimin and Seokjin would
crash in the living room. They hadn’t figured out who would sleep on the couch yet; both idiots
were fighting over the floor.
“You too,” Jimin reappeared by the doorframe, waggling his finger at Taehyung and beckoning
him into the room. “It’s already two thirty.”
In the short amount of time that Jimin and Jungkook had disappeared, Seokjin and Taehyung had
taken advantage of the silence to exchange soft smiles, quiet words.
“What’d you think?”
“Not as good as I expected,” Taehyung admittedly shyly. If he were to be brutally honest, he didn’t
give a damn about the movie and had hardly paid attention for the past two hours. He’d been
admiring Seokjin instead, waiting for the occasional smile that bloomed on the boy’s lips, his heart
surging with joy every time.
So no. He wasn’t quite ready to sleep just yet.
“I’m not tired though,” Taehyung objected meekly.

“Oh, no?” Jimin raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I think I wanna stay up more.”
“And you, Jin?”
“Same.”
“Well,” Jimin smirked. “Suit yourselves. I’m going to sleep with Kookie then. Goodnight.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving Taehyung and Seokjin completely alone.
---
[ ♪ Big Heart - Paul Kim ]
They stayed up all night. Doing what exactly, they couldn’t recall. In the wee hours of dawn their
words and memories blended together like a dream, hazy and beautiful in their own right. They
raided the Jeon-Park pantry for snacks, brewed some tea but forgot to drink it, cooed over Baptong
who seemed to follow their fingers, too.
“No loyalty to Jungkook, this bastard,” Seokjin joked.
“Let’s be real, who is?”
“No one. How much would you trade him in to satan for?”
Taehyung mused over the question for a millisecond. “One chip,” he nodded, tossing a shrimp
flavored piece into his mouth.
“For me, nothing. Just take him. For free.”
Muffled laughter.
“How does Jimin deal with that dumbass all day?” Taehyung sighed.
“Well he’s kind of a dumbass, too.”
They ended up playing another film, one that Taehyung had secretly wanted to see but didn’t
mention earlier, as Jungkook had been so adamant on watching the other. Seokjin climbed onto the
couch, but Taehyung opted to sit on the floor instead. Perhaps they both acknowledged that
boundaries had to be put into place. Circumstances were different from before.
The television buzzed with pictures and sounds, the two conversing nonstop throughout, giggling
and making comments when the occasion called for it. Seokjin sat cross-legged, nestled in the far
left-hand corner of the sofa, Taehyung planted directly in front of him, his head dangerously close
to his leg but never quite touching. That is, until two-thirds of the way through when he suddenly,
wordlessly leaned against Seokjin’s knee. Neither of them bothered to acknowledge it. Neither of
them moved for the rest of the movie.
It was 5:00AM by the time the screen dissolved to black, their eyelids heavy, bones weary as
morning chased the darkness away. Yet they never wanted the night to end; if only it could be
infinite, if the world could stay forever quiet, the apartment ever so still aside from the intermittent
snoring of Jungkook and Jimin in the next room, the inky dawn tinged with the slightest hint of
light. If only they could freeze this moment in time.
They argued over who would sleep on the ground, Seokjin ultimately winning (as usual),
Taehyung climbing onto the couch in defeat. Once they’d tucked cushions under their heads and
pulled blankets over their shoulders they lay facing each other, a hush falling over them, Seokjin’s
eyes drooping slowly before blinking open again to find Taehyung’s gaze still fixed upon him. And
so they stared at each other in the dark, sleepy, bashful smiles tugging at their lips -- until Seokjin
spotted a lone tear trickling out of Taehyung’s eye, rolling over his nose bridge and seeping into his
pillow.
“Hey. W-what’s wrong?” Seokjin asked, furrowing his brow.
“You lied to me.”

“When I asked you by the river that day, if you were happy. You said sometimes. But I don’t think
you’re ever happy anymore.”
Taehyung did a sharp intake of breath as the emotions he’d intended to bury got the best of him,
prompting Seokjin to rise from his pillow, scooting closer but still keeping a distance between
them.
“I know I’ve kept things from you. And I’m sorry for that. But I wouldn’t outright lie to you, Tae. I
am happy sometimes. You just keep catching me on my bad days.”
“No amount of happiness can make up for your unhappiness,” Taehyung stammered. “At least not
from what I’ve seen.”
Seokjin’s throat tightened at the sight of more tears traveling down Taehyung’s sweet face.
“Can’t you leave him?” He begged, not caring about subtlety any longer.
“I...” He trailed off into a heavy sigh.
“Why are you with him,” the boy pressed on indignantly. “I don’t get it. Explain it to me so I can
understand.”
“I-I know you won’t, even if I tried. But Joowon and I, I don’t know. We have our differences. It’s
normal. All couples do.”
“No. We had our differences. He hurts you. He scares you.”
“He’s never laid a finger on me.”

“He destroys everything else around you. It’s not any better.”
“Tae-”
“A relationship shouldn’t be like that. You should be loved, held. Kissed. Not what he’s doing to
you.”
He couldn’t argue with the boy. And he could tell with every justification, every defense of
Joowon, Taehyung was becoming more and more undone.
“Tae. What you did today was...it was stupid and reckless and I’m begging you to never do that
again-”
“If you don’t want me to do that again then don’t go back to him again.”
“-But at the end of the day I have to thank you, you know that?”
“I know. The thing is, I don’t care how stupid I look anymore. I would do anything for you.”
A brief silence, as Seokjin’s face twisted with an indecipherable pain.
“I don’t care if people laugh at me. I don’t care if I look desperate for hanging on for so long. If all
my friends are telling me to move on and find someone new. When I said I love you I meant it. I
love you no matter how much you push me away, no matter how much you hate yourself. That
Joowon guy...can he say the same? Can he love you the way I do?”
He can’t.
“You said before that maybe this is who you really are. I hate that you said that, because you know
it’s not true.”
“I’m not who you think I am. I’m not a good person, Tae-”
“And you think I am?” Taehyung retorted. “You know I’ve fucked up a million times too, right?
But that’s okay, right? We fuck up, we live, we learn. That’s life. So why can’t we figure it out
together?”
“I’ve hurt you. And I’ll have no choice but to keep hurting you if we go down this road together.
That, I could never forgive myself for.”
“Listen to me. Yes, you hurt me and it hurt like hell. There were nights I’d cry myself to sleep and
I’d try to curse your name, to really hate you. But I never could.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know why you’re doing all of this. I’m not dumb. And I don’t know what I can do to help your
situation, either. Maybe me saying this will only complicate things...maybe it’s selfish of me to
confess this...but I’d rather have you and be miserable, than be without you and be happy.”
He could hear his own heart pounding in his eardrums, Taehyung’s gaze practically piercing
through his soul.
“It’s not happiness that I want,” he continued. “It’s you.”
He reached out a hand, long fingers grazing Seokjin’s cheek, stroking his temple before curling
into his hair. Like second nature Seokjin closed his own hand around Taehyung’s, eyes squeezing
shut as he relished in the familiar tenderness. He knew this hand better than his own.
“Can I come down?” Taehyung whispered.
Seokjin scooted backwards on his bum, giving Taehyung room to slip off the couch and join him
on the ground. They moved almost telepathically, the two lowering themselves so that they were
once again laying down, except this time side by side, faces close enough so that their warm
breaths mingled together in the middle. Pulling a blanket over their shoulders and closing the gap
between them, Taehyung wrapped his arms around Seokjin’s broad back, fingers skimming over
the muscles he so missed, Seokjin’s arms snaking to the back of Taehyung’s head, fingers brushing
along his neck and into his hair. He could feel the boy’s lips pressed against his collarbone, spurts
of air escaping from his nostrils into the crook of his neck. There were no more words left to say.
Each had stated his own opinion; good and valid points were made. But they were both tired of
logic and reason, filled instead by an inexplicable want, guided by their aching hearts which
happened to beat in steady unison, chests rising and falling like waves in succession, feet tangled
together in an altogether lovely mess.
It had been a long time since Seokjin laid with a lover.
“I love you,” Taehyung whispered over and over again until they drifted to sleep, his hand rubbing
up and down Seokjin’s spine. Seokjin pulled him in even tighter in response.
Chapter End Notes
I'm in Jeju right now. Actually tonight is my last night here, haha. During this Korea
trip so far I've pretty much been able to visit all the places I've written about in this fic.
The train station in Daegu. The lake at Konkuk. The streets of Hongdae. The beaches
of Jeju. Going to said places and revisiting scenes in the story is an insanely
surreal/rewarding experience. I'm very thankful that I've been able to do this.
I've been listening to "Big Heart" by Paul Kim on repeat these days. I think it goes
quite well with the last scene of this chapter...hence if you want to listen to it while
you read...it /could/ enhance the experience!
Please, as usual, feel free to let me know your thoughts. I set aside time specifically to
go through the comments and I really enjoy it.
Hope you're having a good day/night wherever you are. Take care of yourselves.
Chapter Notes
Sorry I've been MIA, just got back home from Korea and feeling pretty bummed lol.
Thank you for waiting and I hope you enjoy this chapter. FYI I've been told that
Christmas in Korea is more of a couple's holiday and not so much family-centric, New
Years tends to be more of a family gathering.
When Jimin and Jungkook poked their heads out of their bedroom door the next day, the very first
thing they spotted was Taehyung and Seokjin intertwined on the living room floor, the couch
vacant and unused. “Idiots,” Jungkook grumbled, walking past them to the kitchen to greet his fish
a good morning. “Helllooooo, my baby Baptongie.”
Jimin disappeared into the bathroom then re-emerged after brushing his teeth, blowing his minty
breath into Jungkook’s face and earning a playful shove in response.
“Is that my shirt?” Jungkook smirked, eyeing the humongous long sleeve draped over Jimin’s
petite body.
“Yeah,” Jimin giggled, fingertips barely making it past the hem of the sleeves. “I need to do my
laundry.”
“Oh yeah, you haven’t done that in a while. Gross.”
“I feel like this would be big even on you,” Jimin mumbled, examining his own sweater paws as
Jungkook rummaged through their fridge, searching for ingredients for omurice.
“Looks like a freaking dress on you,” the boy agreed, giving Jimin’s tummy a good squeeze. “Help
me with these eggs, will you?”
Seokjin was the first of the two to awake, stirring at the smell of sausages drifting in from the
kitchen. He opened his eyes to the top of Kim Taehyung’s head tucked underneath his chin, hair
tickling his nose, the boy’s arms wrapped firmly around him like a koala. Suddenly Seokjin’s heart
was off to the races again, his chest aching with sickening fondness, with a real physical pain.
He craned his neck ever so slightly, spotting Jimin and Jungkook’s backs in the kitchen, the taller
boy humming a silly song and the shorter boy next to him dancing to the beat, the two bumping
into each other now and then, whether by accident or on purpose, it was hard to tell. It was a
heartwarming sight and a wonderful scent to wake up to.
And for the first time in nearly a year, Seokjin felt full. So full. Happy.
Taehyung eventually blinked to consciousness, moaning slightly as he shifted within his embrace,
then gasping aloud when he looked straight into Seokjin’s gaze. In the light of day such intimacy
quickly felt awkward, forbidden. They peeled away from one another, avoiding further eye contact,
ultimately rising from the floor to join their friends in the kitchen. Neither Jungkook nor Jimin
made any mention of the scene they’d witnessed, pretending as if they’d missed it entirely.
They whipped up a simple breakfast of omurice and banchan to share. Jungkook had taken the
liberty of drizzling lopsided smiley faces with ketchup on each of their servings. It was almost too
cute to eat.
They chit-chatted about everything and anything under the morning sun, finishing their meal at a
leisurely pace, leaving the dirty dishes in the sink before migrating to the living room once more.
It was a gloriously lazy day, the foursome opting to lounge about like cats and ignore all
forthcoming responsibilities. Jimin and Jungkook sprawled out on the couch, Jungkook resting on
his back with Jimin lying on top of him, cheek pressed against his stomach. Within half an hour the
two had drifted off into a shallow slumber.
In the silence of the apartment, the relentless buzzing of Seokjin’s phone seemed exceptionally
loud. Taehyung and Seokjin leaned their backs against the couch for support, their shoulders, hips
and toes touching innocently, neither knowing exactly what to do next. They glanced behind them
at a napping Jimin and Jungkook, chuckling softly at the funny sight. As much as the two of them
bickered and fussed, they surely couldn’t live without the other.
“Did you sleep well?” Seokjin whispered to Taehyung, who nodded sweetly in response.
“Did you? You move a lot in your sleep by the way, did you know that?”
“I do?” Seokjin laughed. He’d never heard that before. “Your body heats up. Like a furnace.”
“It’s nice right? Who needs a heater when you have me.”
He split into a grin, then swallowed thickly as Taehyung’s foot began gently rubbing against his
own. It was fascinating, how the boy’s body burned like a fire but his toes remained cold as ice. It
wasn’t off-putting, by any means. If anything it was inexplicably endearing. He allowed Taehyung
to play a game of footsies for far longer than he should’ve. Eventually he came to a stop on his
own, leaning his foot against Seokjin’s ankle as they sat in the quiet, as they watched cars glide
through the streets beyond the window, as they observed the pedestrians milling about in the cold.
“Do you have plans for Christmas?” Seokjin questioned, to which Taehyung shook his head.
“I wish. Wish I had a hot date,” he winked. “But nah. Just gonna have dinner with the fam. Maybe
go out with the kids after.” Seokjin knew that by “kids,” he meant his younger siblings Eonjin and
Jeonggyu. “How about you?”
“Me?” A pause. “I should get going, I think.”
“Where? Like your apartment?”
“No. Home home. Parents want me back for dinner tonight.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He had a feeling all of those unread messages pouring in weren’t from his parents.
[ ♪ Love Poem - IU ]
The last twenty four hours, Taehyung reflected, were nothing short of a roller coaster ride. A
debacle of downs and a swelling of ups. But upon the realization that all of this, this delicious
dream they were swimming in was coming to an end, a wave of panic crashed over him and sent
him under. Back to reality they’d go. What kind of a hell was Seokjin returning to? Seokjin had
sworn he’d be okay, and Taehyung wanted to take his word for it, to believe that Joowon would
never truly hurt him. But Taehyung was smarter than that.
He advised Taehyung that he could keep his pajamas, no need to return them any time soon. The
boy smiled shyly and didn’t bother protesting. Seokjin slipped on his long coat and shoes, hoisting
his backpack over his shoulders, letting his friend guide him to the door to exchange their
goodbyes. It was a task difficult beyond imagination, the two standing awkwardly across from one
other, not knowing which words to string together.
“Tell Minnie and Kookie I said bye,” Seokjin whispered.
“Yes, of course. I-OH! WAIT.”
“Hmm?”
He watched Taehyung dive into the coat closet, scouring around until he popped back out with a
small object in hand. A delicate box wrapped in shiny paper. He handed said box to Seokjin,
beaming brightly as he did so.
“What’s this for?”
“Merry Christmas, dummy.”
“OH!” Seokjin widened his eyes, turning the package between his fingers in surprise. “Tae, I...I’m
sorry, I didn’t…”
“It’s okay. It was a last minute thing for me, too. Also why I wanted to see you yesterday. Open it
later, please? Not in front me.”
Seokjin nodded, giving the box a good shake and listening for a sound, only to hear nothing
decipherable. He tucked the item into his own coat pocket, mouthing a sincere “Thank you,” to
Taehyung.
“And another thing,” Taehyung peered into Seokjin’s gaunt cheeks. “Make sure you’re eating and
sleeping regularly, okay?” He tugged demurely on his coat sleeve. “I didn’t want to say anything,
but I can’t help but feel worried. You’ve lost too much weight.”
Seokjin hadn’t really thought about it up until that point, but Taehyung was right. His clothes did
feel bigger than before.
“Okay. I will, I promise.” A pause. “And you...take care of yourself too, please? Put yourself first,
okay?”
They lingered by the doorway, Taehyung looking upwards at Seokjin, Seokjin looking down at
Taehyung. He wanted to exercise self control but his heart disobeyed in every which way at the
sight of the beautiful boy. He knew that they shouldn’t see each other like this again; for even with
a boyfriend to his name he still couldn’t hold himself back.
He placed a hand on Taehyung’s cheek, admiring his rosy apples, soft and round, gaze falling to
Taehyung’s lips, pink and pretty and practically begging to be kissed. No, he willed himself to aim
for the forehead instead, planting a small peck against the boy’s skin, tender yet firm. But one kiss,
he realized quickly, wasn’t enough. He moved down to Taehyung’s closed eyelid, a butterfly touch
before trailing down to his cheekbones, Taehyung actually tilting his head to give Seokjin better
access. You are not helping, he fumed, heart doing somersaults as they were now nose to nose, his
breath hovering over Taehyung’s ever so lovely pout, the boy standing absolutely still as if waiting
for something to happen.
They’d already gone too far. Friends don’t say goodbye like this.
“I gotta go,” he breathed shakily before turning away.
I have to go.
When I’m with you I forget who I’m supposed to be.
---
He really did go home. He hadn’t planned on it originally, but figured it was better than going back
to his apartment. Despite the onslaught of texts from Joowon earlier in the afternoon, he’d left all
of the messages unread, eventually muting the notifications altogether.
Joowon: Hey
Joowon: Answer me
Joowon: Don’t ignore me
Joowon: You must think I’m stupid, I know you have your phone on you
Joowon: Are you kidding me ha
Joowon: Are you still with that guy? Don’t fucking tell me you’re still together.
Joowon: Okay I get it
Joowon: Merry fucking Christmas.
Joowon: Hope you have a jolly good time.
Seokjin replied silently in his head: no, he was no longer with “that guy” anymore. One more
second alone with Taehyung and he would’ve lost all restraint. It wasn’t so much about remaining
faithful to Joowon any longer; he had very little grace left for the man after thinking over what
happened the previous night. He simply didn’t want to repeat the same mistake again; to paint
more red on his ledger.
With a muted click he pushed open the front door, wiggling out of his shoes and entering the foyer.
A tall and proud Christmas tree stood in the center of it, its lights and baubles glistening in the
otherwise darkness. He could hear soft music drifting in from the living room sound system,
causing him to raise an eyebrow in surprise. He had fully expected to be alone.
“Hello?” He called out, coming to a halt when he spotted a figure sitting on the couch on their
lonesome.
“Mom?”
The woman whipped around, she too shocked to see her youngest son standing in the apartment
entryway. With a loud sniff she placed her wine glass on the coffee table, then cleared her throat
with a cheery disposition. “Seokjin-ah?” It was too dark to see her face properly.
“Eomma, what are you doing by yourself? Where’s appa?”

She wasn’t supposed to be home, at least not to Seokjin’s recollection. He remembered her talking
about that exclusive reservation she’d managed to snag at one of Gangnam’s hottest new
restaurants, the one that everyone was clamoring over to book their Christmas dates. She’d even
purchased an expensive new outfit from Dolce a month prior, having gotten it tailored for the very
occasion.
He set down his backpack before stepping into the living room, his eyes taking in the nearly empty
bottle of Chardonnay surrounded by a snowfall of balled up tissues. His mother was donned in her
usual pajamas, far from the extravagant dress that was now nowhere to be seen.
“Your appa…” She mustered a chuckle. “Your appa is in Shanghai. He left this morning. Had
some business to take care of.”
“On Christmas?” Seokjin asked incredulously. He was finally close enough where he could make
out the details of her face; eyes red, cheeks wet. But still smiling.
“Yes, on Christmas.”
It perplexed him as to why she was crying. This kind of scenario was far too commonplace in their
household. How many birthdays, anniversaries, milestones his father had missed because of work.
Seokjin grew up learning not to expect his father’s attendance at all. And even when the older man
was present, it always seemed he was half there, half elsewhere.
Perhaps she’d been really looking forward to trying out that restaurant. Or maybe with the house
being completely empty it felt lonelier than usual (Seokjung was noticeably absent, too). It
could’ve also been the last straw on the camel’s back. Whatever the reason, Seokjin stood in a bit
of a trance, not quite knowing how to comfort his mother.
“Did you eat yet?”
“No, not yet. Did you, darling?”
He’d stopped by a 7/11 on his way home and scarfed down a serving of ramen. But he shook his
head with a smile as he told a little white lie. “Not yet. I’ll cook for us.”
“No, no. I can-”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it.”
He briskly beelined for the kitchen, the woman not protesting any further, sitting in a daze by the
fire until her son announced the food was done. He’d prepared a simple meal of steamed rice and
marinated meats with a humble side of kimchi. His cooking was nowhere near as appetizing as his
mother’s, but it was the best he could offer.
The two sat under a dim light, Seokjin warily watching his mother dig in, her eyes widening in
amazement over his apparent mastery. “It’s delicious, Seokjin-ah.”
He tasted a bit for himself. It wasn’t that great. But he appreciated her pretending like it was.
Looking at her face broke his heart, so he kept his head down as he ate. He didn’t want her to feel
the need to fake a smile, although he knew she’d continue to do so, just as she’d done all of her life
thus far.
“Look at you, keeping your old mom company on Christmas,” she sighed. “Why aren’t you out on
a date? Did you see if Jia is free?”
“She’s busy,” he fibbed. He had no idea what she was up to. His mother nodded in resignation,
choosing not to ask any more questions about the girl. The room simmered down to only chewing
sounds as the last song on the soundtrack came to an end. Seokjin was about to finish his final bite
when she spoke up again.
“You’re the only one eomma can depend on, you know that?”
Seokjin looked up from his food.
“Do you remember you were like this too, when you were little?” She began, her eyes glassy with
tears. “Appa would work so hard, trying to get the business off the ground. And the first few years
were so tough...we had more debt than income, and he’d come home stressed every night and we’d
fight and scream and...well. Your father and I, we married for love. We were college sweethearts,
I’m sure you know. But once real life hit us, I quickly realized that love is not enough. When
things got as bad as they did...I didn’t recognize him anymore.”
He recalled certain flashes of memory from his childhood before the wealth and success. A brief
yet grisly time marred by anger and spent in fear. Seokjin was very young when such things
happened, but some images had a way of burning into his mind.
“And after your father and I would fight, you would sneak over to me and hug me with your tiny
arms. You were so little. Still a baby. But you would wipe my tears away and tell me that it was all
going to be okay. That you loved me.”
In that dark place, in that empty excuse for a home, only Seokjin managed to preserve a tender
heart. Seokjung was sent away to live in Busan during those years; they couldn’t afford to care for
both brothers.
“Of course, you don’t do that anymore,” she continued, laughing wetly. “You’re all grown up now.
But you’re still my sweet boy. Now, instead of hugging me, you cook for me. Eomma knows.
You’re still the only one I’ve got.”
He took a deep breath in and out, willing himself to maintain his composure.
“Hurry up and get married, Seokjin-ah. Settle down with that nice girl. She’s such a good girl.
Have a couple of cute kids so eomma can take care of them. Then maybe this house won’t feel so
empty anymore.”
He nodded silently.
Her bowl was now empty, so she poured herself another glass of wine. “By the way, did you lose
weight, honey?”
“I think so.”
“You look good. My handsome boy.”
---
The two best friends stood side by side on the train platform, waiting for the next one to come so
they could take it back to Taehyung’s home. His parents would be treating Jimin to a meal, a
proposition the boy almost never turned down.
The familiar, robotic drone of a voice crackled onto the station’s loudspeaker. “Due to a
mechanical issue, we are experiencing delays. Apologies for the inconvenience and thank you for
your patience.”
It was no big deal. The two of them weren’t in a rush of any sorts. They had plenty of time before
dinner would be ready. Out of boredom the shorter boy bumped his shoulder against Taehyung’s
over and over again, lightly at first but with more force until his friend stumbled forward, Jimin
quickly catching him and cackling all the while.
He couldn’t ignore the inky bruises on Taehyung’s knuckles any longer, taking his large hands into
his smaller ones, swinging their arms back and forth.
“So. You and Seokjin, huh.”
“Uh huh,” Taehyung murmured, focusing on their clasped fingers.
“What’s the status?” Jimin pried. “He still has a boyfriend, right?”
“Right.”
“Which makes you?”
Taehyung chewed on the inside of his cheek, mulling over the question before answering earnestly,
“I don’t even know if he wants me as a friend.”
“But you two seemed so close,” Jimin frowned. “Like it was back to the way it used to be.”
“I mean it was ,” Taehyung nodded sadly, pressing his lips into a thin line. Jimin knew the boy was
being careful with words; if he uttered one too many he’d rightly burst into tears. “But uh...well.
You know how it is.”
“I know,” Jimin whispered gently. “And I hate it, too. I can’t stand Joowon. I’ve only met the guy
a couple of times but my God, every time it leaves a bad taste in my mouth-”
“Jimin,” Taehyung looked up with a sudden urgency, a grave expression etched across his face.
“Yes, my love?”
“Promise me,” he pleaded, his voice cracking, gaze fogging over. “Promise me you’ll talk some
sense into him, okay?” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I can’t do it. He won’t listen to me.”
“About what, baby?”
“Joowon. He can’t be with Joowon.”
The blonde let out a small “Oh,” as the train finally entered the station, wild wind rushing in from
the tunnel, wheels squeaking as it slowed against the tracks. There were tears stinging Taehyung’s
eyes now, threatening to spill over.
“It’s okay if he isn’t mine. He just can’t be with Joowon.”
Chapter End Notes
Thoughts?
There are two songs I've been listening to on repeat 24/7 for the last month. "Big
Heart" by Paul Kim and "Love Poem" by IU.
In relation to this story, "Big Heart" describes Seokjin's inner predicament quite well,
while "Love Poem" is a reflection of Taehyung's heart.
See relevant lyrics below:
Big Heart - Paul Kim [for Seokjin]
Being alone
Compared to being with a friend
Feels more consoling to me
I can see myself falling
It feels familiar - no, relaxing
This is my place of comfort
How much higher must I rise

To be able to smile?
That feeling you’ve hidden in your heart
I hope it finds freedom
vs.
Love Poem - IU [for Taehyung]
I’ll be there, behind you who walks alone

Singing till the end, this song will be endless
Take a deep breath
For you who forgot how to cry out loud, I’ll sing
For you to walk again

I will sing
For you to love again
Here I am, look at me

Singing till the end
On the day when your long night ends
I will be there
When you raise your head and look
Yeah. Both songs perfectly encompass what each character is going through, and
they're beautiful in their own right, too. I hope you'll get the chance to listen to these
songs. I've suggested when to start listening to "Love Poem" in one of the scenes of
this chapter, so that it might "enhance" the reading experience for you.
I don't think I'll update before Christmas so everyone, regardless of what you celebrate
or if you celebrate at all, have a happy holiday season and take care of yourselves.
Chapter Notes
Unlike many of Seokjin’s other friends, the Kims never spent New Years Eve at church. Their
family wasn’t exactly the religious type. Instead they held a long-standing tradition of an intimate
party in their Penthouse, with only four or five other families in attendance each year. Elites,
mostly associates of Seokjin’s father. They’d cater food from a nearby restaurant and set it up on
the kitchen island, the guests often bringing with them lavish gifts; expensive wines, bottles upon
bottles of Dom Perignon.
All of the kids that the parents would bring in tow were spoiled rotten. Despite piling into the
living room like normal teens, playing video games and taking turns shouting at the television
screen, they did so while sporting the most ridiculously overpriced designer items: Hermes
pullovers, Gucci socks, a child as young as ten wearing a shiny Rolex on his wrist. For why?
Seokjin wondered as he watched the boy struggle to lift his heavy hand.
So long as he and Seokjung remained unmarried, they would forever be considered part of the
“kids” table. Seokjung lounged quietly in his corner of the couch, swishing around a glass of
whiskey, while Seokjin seated himself on the opposite end, sipping slowly on a craft beer. He
swiveled his head towards the kitchen where all of the parents were cackling in merriment,
unpacking the food and gossiping about the latest scandals within the upper class circle. His father
was in the middle of an animated conversation with a gentleman Seokjin didn’t recognize, all the
while with his arm draped comfortably across his mother’s back. It was as if her mini meltdown on
Christmas day had never happened, a positively jovial smile spread across her face.
The doorbell sounded with a pleasant ring, signaling the arrival of the very last family; the Lee’s.
He watched as his parents shared warm embraces with Mr. and Mrs. Lee, smiled when Jia did a
quick scan of the room and caught his eye.
She wasn’t all too bad. At the very least, there was finally someone the same age to talk to.
The three of them stuck together for the rest of the evening; Jia, Seokjin, and Seokjung. Jia settled
on a fresh glass of riesling, nursing the drink in between laughs, at one point nearly spitting it out
when Seokjin cracked a particularly crass joke. He knew their parents were watching, perhaps over
the moon that things were finally “falling into place,” and “going according to plan.”
When it was close to midnight the entire entourage took the elevator up to the building’s rooftop,
lights of the Seoul skyline twinkling like the city’s lost stars. It was another Kim family tradition to
set their own fireworks, Mr. Kim in charge of the entire process, the rest of the group letting out a
collective cry as colors exploded into the air, brilliant reds, greens, and blues. The parents
excitedly fished out their phones and snapped pictures and videos while the kids lingered
soundlessly in the back, breaths curling into the air and joining the clouds of smoke above them.
About one minute prior to twelve o’clock, Seokjin’s mother hurriedly advised everyone of the
time, readying them for the countdown. And then - “10! 9! 8! 7!...3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
There followed the sounds of celebratory cheering as the show continued on through the new year,
showers of gold cascading down like rain. Seokjin’s phone began blowing up with notifications;
well wishes flooding in from his group chats, individual messages from Sungmin, Jimin...and one
new text from Taehyung.
Taehyung: Happy New Year!
His ears perked at a particularly shrill ringtone, Jia digging into her pocket and answering the call
with a big grin on her face. “Hi oppa.” It must’ve been Kyungsoo. I guess they’re still kind of a
thing. She slipped away from the rest of the group, wandering to the far corner of the rooftop away
from the fanfare.
12:05AM. Not a single message from Joowon.
Seokjinnie: Haha, happy new year to you too~
Seokjinnie: Thank you, Tae
Seokjinnie: For everything this past year
Taehyung: I’m always here for you.
Taehyung: Listen...
Taehyung: I know you think it’s better if we’re strangers
Seokjinnie: Can I call you?
Taehyung: Oh, sure!
He pressed the call button, he too ambling to the other side of the roof, to the opposite corner from
Jia, who was now throwing her head back in laughter, mumbling indiscernible things into her
receiver.
After one ring, Taehyung picked up.

“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“I can hear fireworks. Same old family tradition?”
“Yeap,” Seokjin confirmed. “Where are you?”
“With the fam at home. We’re watching everything on TV.”
Seokjin couldn’t understand why his parents never bothered to invite Taehyung’s family to their
annual festivities. The Kims were arguably one of their closest family friends, the parents
frequently meeting for double dates and even taking trips out of town on the weekends. It made
zero sense, how they could be replaced by any of these strangers corralled behind him.
“Listen,” Seokjin spoke, teeth chattering in the cold night. “I wish I could do this in person, but I
guess phone will have to do for now. I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done. Even if it
was incredibly stupid of you, and I beg you to never do it again...but it woke me up a bit. So thank
you.”
“You know I would do it again if-”
“I mean it. Do NOT do it again. Promise me. Promise me, Tae. ”
“Okay,” Taehyung mumbled weakly. “I promise.”
“I know my life looks like a mess right now but...I can manage, okay? I’m gonna figure it out.
Don’t worry about me.”
A long pause.
“I know what you’re gonna say next,” Taehyung began. “That we shouldn’t see or speak to each
other anymore. I know where you’re coming from with that. But can I tell you something? Being
strangers with you is too hard. Too damn hard. I can’t do it. Honestly, it makes me regret ever
confessing to you, if I knew I was going to lose you like this. This past year sucked ass. Not even
because of what happened in the beginning of it...but because I lost my best friend. I know it’s been
hard for you too, going through everything alone, I can tell. So how about this. I’m not going to
push it. I’ll stay out of your hair, I swear. But can you promise me something in return? If you need
someone, I’m here. Find me, okay?”
He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “No, yeah. I actually agree. I’m with you.”
“It’s funny,” Taehyung laughed in relief. “You know how I am. I’m a little impulsive, I’ll admit it.
When I want something I don’t really think. I go ALL in. And for the longest time with you, it was
like that too. I wanted all or nothing. But now...I dunno. New year, new me? I’m gonna practice
finding a middle ground. Gonna learn how to be friends with you again.”
A contented sigh. “I’ve missed you, stupid.”
“Oh you don’t even know, Kim Seokjin. How much I missed you.”
“Are we making this a competition?”
“You know I’d win,” Taehyung shot back.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
Did he look like an idiot, standing in the shadows and smiling to himself?
“But seriously. I...I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you this past year. It kinda kills me to think
about it. I don’t want you to be alone anymore. You are not alone. From now on you won’t be.”
Why is your heart so beautiful? He wanted to ask. But he let out a shy chuckle and muttered,
“Same goes for you.”
“Amazing.” He could hear the happiness in Taehyung’s voice. And it made him feel like he was
on top of the world, too.
“Oh, by the way. Been meaning to thank you for the gift. You really didn’t have to.”
“You like them?”
“The cufflinks? I love. Gonna wear them on my first day back to class.”
“You’re gonna show up to lecture in a suit?”
“Yeah. Do you not?”
“Dumbass,” Taehyung cackled. “You’re lucky I still want to be friends with you.”
---
By the afternoon of January 1st there was still not a peep from Joowon. Seokjin had finally
returned to his apartment, the first time he’d stepped foot in it since Christmas Eve. He poked his
head around in the fridge to see if there was anything suitable to eat, whipping up a simple meal of
ramen and spam, then sitting down at his tiny dining room table, boring holes through his phone
before heaving a sigh and dialing his boyfriend’s number. He waited with bated breath, the tone
dragging on and on until the man picked up on the final ring.
“Hello?” Joowon groaned.
“Happy new year,” Seokjin replied numbly. Judging by the grogginess in his throat he’d probably
gone out the night before.
“I have a headache. I’ll call you later.”
He didn’t call back until nearly 1:00AM, Seokjin’s phone vibrating noisily on the coffee table and
causing him to jump with fright.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Where you at?” His voice sounded much clearer than before.
“My apartment,” Seokjin murmured, television humming softly in the background, his feet
propped up on the ottoman.
“Cool,” Joowon chirped, ending the call before Seokjin could utter another word.
Less than a minute later, he could hear the beeping of the keypad at the front entrance. Yet after
plugging in the usual passcode followed by the star sign the door remained resolutely locked,
Joowon tugging perplexedly at the handle before trying for a second, third, fourth time. After the
fifth attempt Seokjin merely shouted from his place on the couch, “Ring the doorbell!”
A moment of hesitation, followed by a bright, almost mocking melody flooding through the
apartment.
He opened the door to find Joowon standing there with his brows furrowed, a look of hurt and
confusion etched across his face. “You changed the passcode?”
“Yeap.”
Seokjin didn’t say anything more, merely stepped aside to allow the elder in. Upon entry he
immediately stumbled upon a mess of a living room; pillows strewn about the floor, feathers
scattered like snow across the carpet, some furniture upturned and laying on its side.
“Why is your place…” But he stopped talking rather quickly upon realizing what he’d walked into.
The younger lowered himself back onto the couch in the middle of the chaos. “Well, hyung. When
you left the other night I was sweeping up shards of glass off of my kitchen floor when it suddenly
hit me. Why should I be doing this? Why am I always the one picking up after you? You’re a
grown man. You made this mess, you clean it.”
He was in no place to argue nor object.
He began by scooping up the cushions and placing them back on the sofa, Seokjin still sitting upon
it and glued to his phone. His eyes flitted upwards to find the elder trying to pluck the feathers off
the ground one by one.
“Vaccum’s in the coat closet,” he mumbled as he rose from his seat. “Let me know when you’re
done.”
There followed a noisy clanging as Joowon wrestled the vacuum out of the closet, as Seokjin
slipped past the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. He
sat on the edge of his bed, heart pounding wildly in his chest as the muted vrrr-ing of the machine
droned on for several minutes before falling to silence. Another five minutes passed before he
heard a curt knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Joowon had barely made it into the room when Seokjin quickly interjected.
“No. Can you...just please stand there. Don’t come any closer.”
The elder froze by the door frame. “Are we not gonna talk about what happened?”
“We’re gonna talk about it. That’s why I called you in the first place. But I never said you could
come over.”
“I think it’s better if we talk face to face.”
“That’s your opinion. But you never asked me if I feel the same way.”
A pause, as Joowon swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Can you just give me a chance to
explain?”
“Go ahead.”
He fixed his gaze down at his hands, as if ashamed. “I let my anger get the best of me. And I know
this isn’t the first time. So I’m sorry.” Yet when he looked up, any semblance of remorse was gone
and replaced by resolve. “But you should know why I get so angry.”
“Why?”
“Like I said before. You won’t let me in. You keep all of these...these secrets. You don’t tell me
anything unless I find out myself then try and pry it out of you. That guy, I have every right to be
angry. The way you looked at him, Jin. I’m not stupid. What’s his name, Taehyung?”
“I’ve already told you who he is,” Seokjin seethed. He despised hearing his name coming out of
his mouth. “He’s an old classmate from high school. A good friend of mine.”
“If he’s such a good friend then why have you never told me about him, hmm? How come I know
about literally everyone else in your life? Jimin? Jungkook? Sungmin? Your brother, your parents
that I’ll never meet? Even Jia? So why not Taehyung?”
“Please stop talking about him.”
“You loved him, didn’t you? Or you still love him? Or he loves you?”
He was a terrible liar, so he chose not to speak at all.
“Does that poor bastard actually love you?” Joowon laughed coldly, his voice breaking in
disbelief. “I pity him if that’s the case. Is this a kink of yours or something? Do you enjoy
watching people crawling desperately after you?”
Within seconds his eyes stung with fresh tears. He’d never cried in front of Joowon, not in the
entire year that they’d known one another. But somehow these words hurt him more than anything
he’d ever said or done before.
“You’re crossing the line,” Seokjin whispered, willing his tears not to spill over.
“You...” Joowon lowered his volume as well, so that a hush fell over the two. “You are difficult to
love-”
“I don’t understand why you came all the way here to say these things.”
“Let me finish.”
“I don’t understand. If I’m difficult to love, then don’t. I’m tired. I realized today that I’m really
fucking tired. And I think you are, too.”
The silence that ensued was painfully long. When Joowon finally spoke again his voice trembled
with every word.
“You really don’t care if you lose me, do you?”
It wasn’t entirely true.
“If it was that easy I wouldn’t still be here.”
He didn’t mean to give the elder hope. When it came to matters of the heart he simply had a
tendency of being too honest. I know I can never love him. But that didn’t mean he could just leave
him. As much as Joowon frightened him, in a strange way the man looming by the doorway also
made him feel safe. Made him feel as if he wasn’t alone.
“Jin, you are difficult to love. But I can get there if you let me.”
It’s probably best if you don’t.
Neither of them intended for it to get this far. His mind backtracked to the fateful night they’d met
at the club bar; the noise, the stench, the adrenaline flooding back to him as if it were merely
yesterday. The steamy make out session in the gritty bathroom stall. It was only supposed to be one
night. How did it turn into one year? How did it morph from carnal lust to some twisted version of
so-called “love”?
And what was Joowon’s definition of “love” anyway? Seokjin didn’t want to find out.
“I want to sleep,” he muttered. Outside it began to rain, fat drops pummeling against the window
pane, the rhythm of it dulling his senses. “I’m glad that we could have a somewhat...calm
discussion for once. But I wasn’t ready to see you.” He paused, picking at the skin around his
fingernail. “Actually, I don’t really want to be near you right now. Please give me space. And
don’t come back until I say it’s okay.”
He glanced up at Joowon who seemed almost paralyzed in his place, mouth slightly parted in
sobering shock.
“It’s late, hyung. Want me to call you a car?”
“No. I can do it myself.”
“Okay.”
And when the room was empty again and the boy was left alone with the rain, a hint of perfume
lingered in the air; foreign and unfamiliar, like the ghost of someone who didn’t belong there.
Chapter End Notes
Apologies for the delay and thank you for your patience!
Hope everyone had a happy holiday/new years. Happy birthday to our best boi
Taehyung, you are so loved. Congratulations to BTS for performing in front of 1
million strong, legends.
Coincidentally this chapter also took place over the new year, how funny haha.
After this week I will try and update 2 chapters a week again. :)
As usual please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts, I love reading feedback.
<3
Chapter Notes
There was something inherently depressing about January; the city stripped of its holiday cheer, its
streets empty and desolate like a ghost town. But Seokjin didn’t think the quiet was all too bad, as
he sat by the cafe window and watched the occasional pedestrian amble by. He waited until he saw
the familiar figure approaching from afar, the door jingling as Joowon entered the coffee shop,
eyes scanning the room until he spotted Seokjin in the back.
With a sheepish gait he strode towards their table, unzipping his puffy jacket and removing his
baseball cap to reveal a head of messy hair.
“This for me?” He asked, eyeing the second cup of coffee placed in front of him.
“Yeah. Your favorite, vanilla latte.” As health conscience as Joowon was, he certainly had a
penchant for sweet drinks.
“You didn’t have to.”
“It’s not a big deal, hyung.”
He lifted the cup to his lips, taking a tentative sip before dipping back down for more. Seokjin
observed in silence for a moment, then picked up the shopping bag at his feet and handed it over to
the elder.
“Ah, right,” Joowon nodded, receiving the bag and peering inside at the expensive leather jacket
folded at the bottom of it. “Thank you. Sorry to make you come all the way over here.”
A couple of weeks had passed since their last serious discussion, yet Joowon was still banned from
entering Seokjin’s apartment. Not that he’d tried to fight that notion; if anything he seemed to be on
his best behavior, politely asking if Seokjin could meet him near his workplace and bring along
the nice jacket he’d left behind. Perhaps keeping each other at an arm’s length was doing them
good, for their relationship had simmered down from chaotic to cordial. It was a welcomed change.
For the first time in a long time his heart didn’t tremble at the sight of the man.
“It’s really fine,” Seokjin drank a bit more of his cappuccino. “I’m still on break, not like I have
anything better to do.”
“Must be nice. Once you start working kiddo, you’ll see. No breaks.”
“You’re extra busy these days, right?”
“Yeah,” Joowon sighed. He was wearing athletic gear from head to toe, with a couple of clients
scheduled for private training sessions later in the evening. “Everyone has these dumb New Years
resolutions…I guarantee you after two months they’ll be gone.”
“When do you have to go into work?”
He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “An hour.”
“Do you wanna stay here?” Seokjin asked. He couldn’t pinpoint why he felt antsy, why the room
felt too stuffy, too hot.
“It’s whatever, I don’t care,” Joowon shrugged. “Why, you wanna go somewhere? I can’t go too
far.”
“I just need to get some face masks. My skin is dry.”
“Okay, I don’t mind.”
They exited the warmth of the cafe into the blistering cold, strolling side by side with their drinks
in to-go cups, casually catching up on each other’s days. It didn’t take long before they encountered
a slew of beauty stores, Seokjin stepping into the first one they saw and Joowon trailing obediently
after him.
He spent quite some time consulting with the employees as to which masks to buy, Joowon
hovering over the lipstick display as if it were relevant to him. After finally selecting his items and
ringing them up at the counter, they walked out into the chill once more, this time headed in the
direction towards Joowon’s gym.
Night had fallen, the neon lights of the city flickering on, making the world feel less lonely than
before. Seokjin spotted the subway station coming into view, taking it as his cue to say his
goodbyes.
“Hyung, I should head back.”
“Alright,” Joowon mumbled, typing out a text and pressing send before looking up from his screen.
“Where you goin’?”
“Friend’s place.”
“Jimin?”
“Yeah.”
“Gonna stay in and chill?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin shivered as an icy breeze blew past. “It’s too cold to do anything.”
To which Joowon chuckled in agreement. “Good. Stay indoors. You don’t want to catch a cold.”
His voice was warm and full, almost fond.
“Okay. Have fun at work,” Seokjin waved, turning on his heel to head down the stairs and into the
station. But before he could make his descent he felt a hand grab hold of his arm, reeling him back
with a light tug.
It surprised him, the sudden touch. They hadn’t made physical contact with one another since
December. Seokjin’s eyes widened as he stumbled over his own feet.
“Wh-“
“Give me a kiss,” Joowon murmured, barely audible.
And even more shockingly, Seokjin caved.
They never did this sort of thing in public, but the night was dark and no one was around. It was a
chaste peck, fleeting and hurried, innocent and sweet, the taste of vanilla with a hint of cigarettes
lingering on Joowon’s lips. It was nothing like their first kiss.
“Bye,” he mumbled one last time, offering a hint of a smile before disappearing down the stairs.
---
It was no surprise judging by the pounding of footsteps that Jungkook was the one to greet Seokjin
at the door. It also didn’t come as a shock that he was in fact, pants-less.
“Hello,” the boy greeted him, popping a chip into his mouth.
“Seokjinnie’s here?” Jimin cried from his place on the couch. “Did you eat yet?”
“I’m okay!” He answered, entering the apartment and placing his plastic bag down on the kitchen
table. “I got us some face masks just now.”
“OH!” Jungkook beelined to Seokjin’s side, peering over his shoulder as he pulled out an array of
sheet masks. “OH! I love blueberries! I want this one!”
“What did you eat?” Jimin pressed, eyes still trained on the book in his lap.
“Uh…” Seokjin trailed off. He sucked at lying. “Cappu-“
“Okay. We haven’t eaten yet either, so I’ll cook for all of us.”
He’d practically become a third roommate at the Park-Jeon household, thinking of their home as
something of a sanctuary, sacred and safe, separate from the real world. Jimin eventually
clambered out of the living room, taking charge of the cooking process as Seokjin and Jungkook
scurried about as his little assistants. Jungkook was assigned to chopping duties, the boy hyper-
focused on the knife in hand, the task taking much longer than usual to complete. Nevertheless
Jimin allowed him to finish on his own, eventually mumbling “good job” and giving Jungkook a
small pat on the bum. “Can you go put on pants, though?”
To which Jungkook obliged, trudging into their shared room with a reluctant groan.
They ate a quick meal in front of the television and cleaned up after themselves just as briskly,
Jimin mumbling about how he had to get right back to studying. The face masks laid forgotten on
the kitchen table as Jungkook and Seokjin sprawled out on either side of the couch, Jimin opting to
sit cross-legged on the floor, nose deep in his textbook once more.
“I’m so sleepy,” Jungkook murmured. “Wanna take a nap Jin?”
“Sure.”
The two excused themselves from the living room and burrowed under the covers in the bedroom,
the blanket thick and warm, cocoon-like. With a satisfied sigh Jungkook swung his leg over
Seokjin’s hip, the latter absentmindedly scrolling through the newsfeed on his phone.
“Why is he studying already?”
“You know how he is. Wants to be ahead of the game when the semester starts.”
“Mr. Class President indeed,” Seokjin tutted.
“Mhmm.”
A comfortable silence fell over the pair before Jungkook spoke up again.
“Seokjin-ah,” he drawled, his eyes fluttering to a close. “Why are you over so often these days,
hmm? You like us that much?”
“Why, you want me to leave?” Seokjin slurred back, a yawn escaping from his lips. Both were
caught in between reality and dreamland.
“Well you can’t. I’ve got you trapped here,” he jested, tightening his grip around Seokjin’s thigh.
Their friendship had always been something of a spectacle, both to onlookers and to themselves as
well. Upon reflection, Seokjin realized that he spent just as much time with Jungkook as Jimin; the
three of them were usually a package deal. But something about Jimin drew out a fragile
vulnerability from within, whereas Jungkook had a knack for stirring up a shit storm instead; a
flurry of fists, of senseless kicking and biting words. “Feelings” were definitely not their strong
suit, and if they stepped anywhere close to that territory they’d recoil in fear and disgust.
Sometimes he wondered if Jungkook cared about him as much as he cared about Jungkook.
“Let me go, asshole,” Seokjin seethed, pushing the thought to the back of his mind and squirming
in his friend’s vice-like grasp. His struggle only made Jungkook latch on even tighter, his eyes
sealed shut albeit with a smug smile stretching at his lips.
“Or what? You’re gonna fight me? You think you can win?”
He’d spend an entire year surrounding himself with darkness. Yet there in that room, as the two
wrestled like puppies, twisting the sheets about, hum of the heater punctured by their wheezy
laughs, everything around him felt so light. Within just minutes they gave in to fatigue, falling
asleep in a tangled, breathless mess.
---
By the time Jimin finally finished studying, stretching his tired limbs and eyeing the clock on the
wall, he realized that the two losers had been passed out for almost five whole hours. It’s not even
a nap anymore, he fumed, rising onto his feet and barging into the bedroom. They’re just straight
up sleeping at this point.
“YAH!” The blonde bellowed, flipping the covers away from their feet and grabbing both by their
ankles. Jungkook let out a shrill scream; it was his biggest fear getting dragged out of bed by
ghosts, and Jimin had just brought to life his worst nightmare.
“FUCK!” Jungkook yelled, tumbling off of the bed. Seokjin gave Jimin a good kick with his free
foot in equal protest.
“Y’all are so lazy and for WHAT?!” Jimin barked back.
Jungkook moaned aloud, making a valiant attempt to crawl back onto the bed only to be pushed off
again by Jimin.
“Why’re you so mean-”
“Whatever. I’M BORED. Let’s go out and do something,” Jimin whined, prodding at their limp
bodies on the ground. “Let’s go out go out. OH!” He cried, struck by a stellar idea. “Let’s go
clubbing! It’s been so long. Dancing! Shots! I’ll invite Hobi, too. Do you think Yoongi would want
to...no, definitely not. No. I’ll ask Hobi. Come on, guys.”
“I don’t want to,” Jungkook groaned. “It smells in there.”
“Smells just like you, so shouldn’t be a problem,” Seokjin interjected, cackling proudly to himself.
“But we can dance,” Jimin pressed. “And you love dancing, Kookie. You’re such a sexy dancer.”
Seokjin knew exactly what Jimin was doing: showering Jungkook with compliments, hoping that
his sweet words would lure the boy into submission. It always worked; already he was fighting a
grin with admirable will power.
“And then we’ll all get food after. My treat for all of you bastards. Come on.”
“I don’t have clubbing clothes,” Seokjin smirked. He’d worn sweatpants and a hoodie when he left
his apartment. “Guess I can’t go-”
“Nonsense. You can just borrow Jungkookie’s clothes. Right?”

A hefty sigh. “Sure.”
---
The last time Seokjin paid a visit to a club was in fact the first time he met Joowon. He
remembered exactly why he hadn’t returned the moment the four of them set foot in “SIN,” one of
the hottest establishments in Itaewon and a personal favorite of Jimin’s. Him and Hoseok loved
every aspect of the clubbing scene; the wild partygoers, the pounding bass, the fervent dancing.
Jungkook and Seokjin, being the homebodies that they were, struggled to understand the appeal of
it all.
Nevertheless the foursome maneuvered their way to the bar, pushing past hordes of sweaty men,
women all thrashing their bodies maniacally to EDM. Seokjin was indeed wearing Jungkook’s
clothes; a pair of dark jeans that hugged his ass, more like strangled it, and a plain black tee cuffed
fashionably at the sleeves. Jungkook’s outfit was nearly identical. “A couple look!” Hoseok
cackled loudly, earning punches from his two friends. Jimin wore an ivory silk blouse with a
completely lace back, revealing the prettiest spine Seokjin had ever seen, rendering him speechless
when his eyes first landed upon it. Where the hell did he get this and why is he trying to end me,
Seokjin fumed. Hoseok wore something more conservative and borderline comical, a garishly
orange Hawaiian shirt that stuck out in the sea of neutrals like a sore thumb. At least it was easy to
spot him in the crowd.
“Let’s make a pact,” Jimin yelled after downing his shot. “Let’s just stick together tonight. No
hooking up or anything. Just the four of us, okay?” He gave Hoseok a heavy slap on the back. “I’m
talking mainly to you.”
Nods all around as they squeezed their way back onto the dancefloor. “No guarantees,” Hoseok
winked, wiping remnants of liquor from his mouth. Seokjin had heard through the grapevine of
Hoseok’s salacious conquests at the many nightclubs of Seoul. Part of him sincerely wished to see
his friend in action.
But there was something freeing, almost purifying about coming to such a place with no agenda
but to dance. With a little bit of liquid courage flowing through their veins they quickly forgot to
care about appearances, soon jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd, their shirts saturated
with sweat and sticking to their skin. Every fifteen minutes or so they’d travel back to the bar,
down another round of shots, then go straight back to dancing. After two hours of rinse, wash, and
repeat, Seokjin was having a good - no, great time. Legs sore but heart light, especially when his
mind drifted to thoughts of what kind of food they’d eat after.
Jungkook had become absolutely lost in the music, headbanging, hair flopping about, his three
friends tearing up at the mere sight of him. Admirers could only do so at a distance, for coming
within a one foot radius of the boy verged on dangerous.
“Jungkook-ah, you still with us?” Hoseok jokingly grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a
slight shake as if to bring him to his senses.
“And he says he doesn’t like clubbing,” Jimin threw his head back in laughter.
The boy in question turned in Jimin’s direction, opening his mouth as if to retort, when suddenly
his movements came to a stop as if a flip had been switched. His look of bliss just moments before
was replaced with something dark and frankly terrifying, his eyes narrowed and fixed on an
unknown target beyond Seokjin and Jimin’s shoulders.
“Hey, are you okay?” Seokjin asked, reaching to Jungkook’s arm as he remained frozen in his
place, the music now like white noise to him.
“Kookie, what’s wrong?” Jimin joined in, worry washing over him. “You’re scaring me, what?”
They tried looking in the direction he seemed to be focused on, yet their surroundings were too
dark, too chaotic to decipher.
“Did I say somethin’?” Hoseok chimed in, cocking his head worriedly to the side. “Dude, what’s-”
“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook murmured, jerking back into motion and setting off into the crowd.
He was plowing forward with an uncharacteristic aggression, fellow clubgoers yelping and cursing
as he pushed past them, beelining for something , clearly something terrible enough to have
prompted a 180 degree shift. It was then, in the fleeting yet fateful flash of the overhead rave
lights, that illuminated exactly what Jungkook had discovered.
Out of all the fucking clubs in the city of Seoul. And of course it had to be on the one night Seokjin
decided to go out with his friends. There in the center of it all, one hand on a woman’s ass, the
other curled into her long hair, lip locked like he could devour her right then and there, Choi
Joowon. Looking happier than he’d ever been with Seokjin.
Not for long. Jungkook reeled back his fist before planting it square into Joowon’s jaw.
Chapter End Notes
I'm sorry! D: I know I said I'd upload double chapters per week but I'm going through
some big life changes right now...so most likely one chapter a week realistically...until
further notice. Eek!
Editing each one is super time consuming because I'm doing a lot of re-writing too.
Adding entirely new scenes, rearranging everything...it requires more brain power
than I possess LOL.
As usual please let me know your thoughts, always love to hear them. Bless.
Chapter Notes
Please be mindful of the tags before you read. A reminder that this is slow burn, angst,
coming of age. For this chapter in particular, homophobia/internalized homophobia.
Thank you.
The scene on the dancefloor quickly unfurled to chaos, screams reverberating amidst the pounding
bass as Jungkook landed one, two, three punches before getting barred by several other men in his
vicinity.
“FUCKING WHORE!” Jungkook screamed before Hoseok and Jimin hoisted him away by his
armpits.
It felt like deja-vu, as Seokjin watched Joowon shielding his face in defense once more, as the poor
girl he’d been kissing dissolved into shambles on the sidelines. The anger flared only for a second
before it simmered down to sadness. For as soon as the two locked in a gaze, there under the
dizzying strobelights, in a room too loud, too big for a moment such as this, he could see a trace of
remorse in the elder’s eyes.
Me too. I’m sorry, too.
Count it as luck, that Joowon boasted handsome connections with the club’s owners. “Please don’t
call the police,” he begged security on Seokjin’s behalf. It was the last thing Seokjin would hear
from the man’s mouth before the bouncers heeded his request, dragging the troublemakers out and
tossing them onto the curb.
“WHERE, ARE, OUR, FUCKING, JACKETS! ” Jungkook bellowed, the bravado of his voice
frightening the patrons waiting along the brick wall.
“Tickets,” the tall man sighed, hand outstretched as each of them dug into their pockets to retrieve
the small slips of paper.
He disappeared through the front entrance, the muffled bass resurfacing to a clarity before
becoming muffled again. They waited awkwardly on the sidewalk, keenly aware of the many
stares aimed in their direction and trying their best to ignore it all.
“Cold,” Jimin whimpered, pressing his body against Seokjin’s for warmth. With a wary hand he
rubbed up and down the blonde’s semi-bare back, eyes focused on a piece of chewing gum stuck
between a crack in the concrete.
Less than a minute later, the door of the club flew open with a bang, the bouncer haphazardly
tossing an armful of jackets onto their huddle and promptly turning on his heel. “Off of our
premises, NOW,” he warned.
“IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT YOUR CUSTOMERS-”
“You want us to call the cops, kid?”
“NO!” Jungkook seethed before turning away. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
“Calm down dude,” Hoseok chided, helping the fuming boy pull his arms through the sleeves of
his coat.
“YOUR MUSIC FUCKING SUCKS TOO!” He twisted his head around to yell at the closed door.
“KOOK, stop .”
“Let’s go home,” Hoseok nodded, steering their little group to cross the street and hail a cab.
“I can’t believe the nerve of that fucker,” Jungkook spat at the ground.
“I feel bad for the girl. She didn’t have a clue what was going on.”
“She was pretty,” Hoseok agreed. “Should I go in and steal her from him?”
“Like you’re any better,” Jimin rolled his eyes.
The three of them fussed over Seokjin the entire ride home, Jimin hovering over him like a mother
hen, Hoseok and Jungkook taking turns explaining various ways they’d chop off Joowon’s dick
and cook it, the taxi driver eyeing them warily in the rear view mirror. Yet he himself hardly felt a
thing, body resigning to numbness as he looked out the window onto the passing landscape.
Everything he’d just witnessed; it was simply confirming what he already knew.
“Hey,” Jungkook swiveled around in the front seat. “Do we have enough face masks for all of us?”
Seokjin snapped out of his trance. “Oh yeah,” he nodded. “Plenty.”
And then he suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words: You are not alone. From now on you won’t
be.
You will be okay without Choi Joowon.
---
Joowon: I can go over and pack myself
Seokjin: No need.
Joowon: Okay.
Joowon: Then I can come and pick it up
Seokjin scrunched his nose, contemplating the idea before shaking his head in defiance. He didn’t
know why he’d become so territorial of his apartment.
Seokjin: No need. I’ll do it.
There wasn’t too much to pack anyway. Mostly clothes; sweatpants and tee shirts, hoodies, stray
socks. A couple containers of protein powder, an array of water bottles, an electric razor.
He threw all of said contents into some spare boxes, eventually forming a small stack by the
doorway. He made sure to scour the entirety of his apartment several times, not wanting to
necessitate a second trip to deliver a forgotten item.
Stretching his limbs with a sigh, he tossed a myriad of plastic lighters he’d found onto the kitchen
counter, for a brief moment at a loss as to what to do with them. How do you properly dispose of
these things? He wondered.
Propping the front door open with his foot, he carefully moved each box one by one into the
hallway, grunting with effort as he did so. I should call a car now, he reminded himself. Drivers
usually had a bit of trouble navigating around his complex. There was only one box left to move
when he noticed a pair of feet…no, two pairs of feet standing still by the entryway.
The poor boy almost twisted his neck with the speed at which he shot up from the ground, only to
come face to face with his own mother, accompanied by none other than Mrs. Kim; Taehyung’s
mother.
“E-Eomma. Eomeonim,” he offered a small bow to Mrs. Kim, whose warm smile quickly faltered
to anxious.
“What’s going on, son?”
“W-Why are you here?” He questioned instead, still standing guard of the door.
“We were getting lunch in the area and wanted to buy you some groceries. Can’t a mother take
care of her own child?”
He realized he was being rude, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he stepped aside to let
the two in. “You didn’t have to.”
His apartment was in a disarray. Messier than Seokjin usually liked to keep it; empty takeout boxes
littering the living room table, dirty clothes strewn carelessly across the floor. He hoped neither of
them would notice as his mother set down the shopping bag on the countertop, removing from it
jars of kimchi and packages of marinated meats, placing them on the shelves of Seokjin’s fridge
which, sadly enough, was glaringly empty save for two large bottles of spring water.
“What in the world are you eating?” She furrowed her brow.
“I am,” he urged. “Don’t worry about me, mom.”
“What’s going on in here?” She straightened her back, eyeing the remaining box by the door with
understandable suspicion. “Are you moving out or something?”
Mrs. Kim hadn’t uttered a word.
“No, I…” His mind churned frantically to think of an excuse. “My friend needed a place to crash
for a while, so I let him.” Not a total fabrication.
“What friend? Why did they need a place to stay? What’s wrong with them?”
“They were just in between places, that’s all,” he rolled with it, hoping it sounded convincing
enough. With nervous energy abuzz he ran a hand through his hair, his mother still wearing a
perplexed expression while Mrs. Kim showed not even the slightest hint of curiosity. She simply
appeared uncomfortable, as if this were a conversation she’d rather not bear witness to.
“How long did they stay with you?”
“Uh…” He trailed off, thinking of the boxes in the hall and surmising a reasonable amount of time
to merit that much stuff. “A couple months.”
A mild panic, as he watched the woman’s eye-line drift from the sorry state of his sink to the
damned lighters lined up on the counter. As if on cue, Mrs. Kim cleared her throat, breaking the
tension with her gentle voice.
“Seokjin-ah, where’s the bathroom?”
He gestured towards the open door opposite of the kitchen. “Right there, Eomeonim.” She hurried
away just as his mother picked up a neon yellow lighter, turning the item between her fingers in
disdain.
“Now does this belong to you, or your friend?” She murmured, eyes boring holes through his head.
“Friend.”
Silence. She didn’t seem to believe him.
“Friend, mom. I don’t smoke.”
But what if I did? What would you do?
“What kind of a friend is this?” She whispered. “I know all of your friends. So how come I don’t
know about this one?”
“That’s…that’s not true,” he objected. “I’ve met a lot of people at university.” He hated it, the
need to explain himself when he truly didn’t have the strength to do so. “Thanks for the groceries,
mom. But I was just about to head out now.”
“Where?” She pressed. “Dropping these boxes off for your friend?” How many times is she going
to say the word ‘friend’… “Why don’t they pick it up themselves?”
He ignored the last question. “Yeah. Dropping them off.”
“How? You don’t even have a car.”
Another wave of panic. He could see where this was going.
“I already called one.” (A total fabrication.)
“Cancel it. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Mom, I really-“
“Come on. Why waste money calling a car. And I drove the SUV today.”
Mrs. Kim reemerged from the bathroom just as his mother scooped the last box into her own arms,
as Seokjin swept the lighters into his palm and slipped them under the cardboard flap.
They packed everything into the trunk and closed it with a slam, every sound echoing almost too
loudly in the underground garage. Having vehemently denied his parents’ offers of buying him a
car, he rarely ever ventured to the basement level of the complex. All of it felt strange, foreign.
When asked why he didn’t want a car of his own, he couldn’t come up with a better reason other
than the fact that there was something about them that turned him off; that no matter how
luxurious, how spacious, they always felt too stuffy.
He slid into the backseat as the two women buckled themselves in at the front. “What’s his
address?” His mother asked, waiting to enter it into her GPS. But instead of forming words he
found himself biting down on his tongue, paranoia mounting to an all time high as he realized: he
didn’t want her to know where Joowon lived.
What if her curiosity got the best of her?
What if she hired a private investigator?
Thoughts that seemed farfetched, but not too out of reach.
“Mom, it’s easier if I drive. I know a shortcut.”
They shuffled. Seokjin strapping himself into the driver’s seat, Seokjin’s mother in the front
passenger seat, and Mrs. Kim settled in the back. It’d been a while since he’d sat behind the wheel,
but a lap around the garage and he picked it up again fairly quickly.
The ride was mostly quiet, save for a bit of small talk between the grown ups. He learned that his
father was overseas again, this time on business in Hong Kong for a whole month. He didn’t
bother telling us. Nice. He also learned that Eonjin, Taehyung’s little sister, had apparently
befriended the daughter of some B-list celebrity while attending Hagwon. Never heard of that guy,
Seokjin drummed his fingers against the leather.
The scenery on either side narrowed from sprawling city lanes to cramped side streets, the
storefronts shifting too as he pulled into Joowon’s part of town. Without looking he could sense his
mother studying all of the shop names with scrutiny, an uneasiness falling over Seokjin as she did
so. Joowon lived in a notoriously gay neighborhood in Seoul. Suddenly the rainbow signage he
used to find charming seemed too sickeningly bright, the boy overcome with an urge to cover
everything with a dark cloth.
The car came to a stop in front of a humble looking apartment complex. Unbuckling his seatbelt in
haste, he assured his mother that he didn’t need help before she could even open her mouth to offer
it. “I can manage,” he repeated for emphasis.
He’d purposely parked the vehicle several steps further away from Joowon’s unit, hoping that the
front entrance would be obscured from sight; which it was, but not as much as Seokjin would’ve
hoped. Both mothers observed as he balanced the stack of boxes carefully until he reached the
doorstep, plopping them at his feet and pressing the doorbell.
Seokjin’s mother kept watch like a hawk. Taehyung’s mother wrung her hands nervously as they
waited.
“Unnie-”
“Shhh,” Seokjin’s mother shushed her with a wave. She shrunk back into silence.
After about a minute of staring at his feet, the boy’s head finally snapped up upon Joowon’s
appearance by the entryway. They watched as the two conversed; and although they could only see
the back of Seokjin’s head, Joowon’s face was quite clear. He seemed upset.
A plastic bag dangled between Joowon’s fingers. He lifted it as if handing it to Seokjin, but the
younger merely shook his head and pushed it away. It all felt very odd. Taehyung’ mother averted
her gaze, busying herself with the hemline of her dress instead. Seokjin’s mother couldn’t tear her
eyes from the scene.
Just as quickly as he’d departed, he was jogging back to the SUV, pulling open the car door and
climbing back into the driver’s seat.
“Who was that?” His mother pressed one more time. He wanted to roll down the window and
scream. But before he could answer-
“That’s very kind of you, Seokjin-ah,” Mrs. Kim cut in, prompting him to turn and face her in mild
shock. Her eyes were warm, tender, forgiving. Just like Taehyung’s. “It’s very kind of you to help
out a friend. You have a good heart.”
---
The train rumbled through the darkness, careening southbound through sleepy countryside, the
lights of Daegu shimmering in the distance as the wheels began to slow in preparation of their
arrival.
It was the last day of January, a quiet Sunday evening as the train finally pulled to a squeaky halt
into Dongdaegu Station. He emerged from his car with suitcase in tow, located the escalators to
exit and smiled upon spotting Hyungsik waiting for him in the main hall, arms crossed, foot
tapping absentmindedly against the tile. The two exchanged a warm embrace before Hyungsik
grabbed Taehyung’s luggage, leading them out of the station to his car parked in the lot.
“Where’s Dahyun noona?” Taehyung asked with curiosity. The two of them usually picked up
Taehyung together.
“Ah, she couldn't make it tonight,” Hyungsik explained. “She’s on a date with some guy.”
“Really?!” Taehyung perked with excitement. “ON A DATE?”
“Yes. You’ll see her later tonight, though. I think. She’ll tell you all about it.”
“Oh my god,” he sputtered, wiggling into his seat with a massive grin.
They drove in the direction of Hyungsik and Dahyun’s apartment, Taehyung connecting his phone
to the car’s sound system and scrolling through his playlists as he always did, settling on a pretty
jazz number by Coltrane when their vehicle came to a rolling stop at the traffic light, Hyungsik
lowering the volume ever so slightly and clearing his throat.
“Taehyung-ah,” the elder mumbled, gaze fixed on the red in front of them.
“Mmm?” The boy murmured, still focused on his phone.
“What are you doing Valentine’s Day?”
For several seconds, nothing but the crooning of a sleazy saxophone.
“What?” Voice soft, heart aflutter.
“Next, next Sunday. What are your plans.”
“Why?”
A long silence as Hyungsik swallowed thickly before turning to look Taehyung in the eye. “I
wanted to take you out to dinner.”
This is the longest red light in human existence.
“OH!” Taehyung exclaimed with almost too much enthusiasm. “Dinner! Sounds fun. What’re you
craving? We haven’t gotten BBQ in a while, huh? Is Dahyun noona coming with us? Maybe
Seojoon hyung too-”
“No,” Hyungsik interjected quickly. “No Dahyun, no Seojoon. Just you. You...and me.”
His heart threatened to burst straight out of his chest.
“Just you, me, somewhere nice. A...you know. A proper date.”

The little man blinking above the crosswalk on the opposite side switched to a hand, signaling that
the red would flicker to green at any moment.
“I know this is my second time asking you now,” Hyungsik continued, trying his best to fill the
silence. “And I don’t want you to feel pressure, to be uncomfortable in any way. But I feel like a
good amount of time has passed since my first attempt and circumstances are a little different, you
know? So what do you think? Hey-” He gave Taehyung a gentle nudge, chuckling at the boy’s
dazed expression. “What do you say? Don’t leave me hanging.”
“Hyung.”
---
He’d never seen Dahyun that animated, that lively in the nearly two years he’d known her. Perched
at the very edge of her seat on the couch, hands flailing wildly about, mouth moving a mile a
minute as she recounted the happenings of her magical evening. Taehyung listened in both
amusement and amazement, cross-legged on the carpet across from her.
“And he said he would take me to this place, but he actually took me to THIS place-”
His eyes flitted to Hyungsik leaning against the frame of his bedroom door, chuckling at all the
right places, even clapping his hands at particularly funny moments. The two were finding it
difficult to look each other in the eye. He was thankful that Dahyun had a good story to tell.
She was divulging the details of their dessert escapade when the phone in Taehyung’s pocket
buzzed against his thigh.
Chim: Tae baby. Hey
As discreetly as he could-
Tae: Hi!
Buzz.
Chim: I wanted to wait for him to tell you
Buzz.
Chim: But he’s not really talking about it
Buzz.
Chim: So I figured I’d give you a heads up
Buzz.
Chim: They broke up.
He was no longer listening to Dahyun’s story.
Tae: What?
Chim: Yeah. Shit went down. You free to talk on the phone?
Tae: I’ll be free in thirty, I’ll call you?
Chim: Okay.
He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, offering a weak smile as Dahyun buried her face in her
hands, resurfacing with stars in her eyes and her head in the clouds. Meanwhile a whole ocean
raged inside of Taehyung’s ribcage; wave upon wave of gratitude, crashing over his heart and
pulling him under.
---
He stepped out of the living room and onto the balcony, shivering as the night air seeped through
the holes of his sweater. I should’ve worn my jacket, he thought to himself as he dialed Jimin’s
number, pacing as he waited through the droning dial tone. But he’d excused himself with such
urgency that he’d forgotten entirely about outerwear, and he couldn’t be bothered to go back
inside.
Hyungsik was showering. Dahyun was sitting on the couch, presumably texting her dream man,
the love of her life. After three and a half rings the other line crackled to life, Jimin coughing into
the receiver, Taehyung’s footsteps coming to an abrupt halt.
“Hey-“
“Tell me.”
It took five minutes for Jimin to give him the rundown of what happened. It took double the time
for the two to discuss the implications of said events.
Dahyun remained seated in the living room until the screen of Taehyung’s phone dimmed to black.
She waited for him to turn around and return to the warmth of the apartment, but he seemed to have
no intention of doing so, leaning over the railing with a slumped form, his breathing shallow and
unsteady.
She grabbed a couple of throw blankets as she rose to her feet, wrapping one around her own frame
and, as soon as she joined the boy on the balcony, draped the other over his trembling shoulders.
“What are you doing out here?” She questioned softly. She fished out a cigarette from her precious
stash, lighting the end of it with practiced finesse, orange flame burning bright in the dark. Upon
closer examination she breathed a small sigh of relief; at the very least he wasn’t crying. Just
visibly shaken.
“Is it because of…” She began, Hyungsik’s name at the very tip of her tongue. But she didn’t get a
chance to finish her sentence.
“It’s Jin,” Taehyung stammered, her eyes widening in surprise.
Did Hyungsik even get to confess?

“Your friend back in Seoul?” She took a long puff, exhaling easy and slow. “What happened? Is he
okay?”
A beat of silence. “He broke up.” He peered at her through his long lower lashes, through swirls of
smoke, the girl blinking back at him with an unreadable expression, her mind jumping first and
foremost to her poor roommate currently in the middle of his shower.
The timing could not have been worse.
“How did it happen?”
He nibbled on his lip with a pained expression, Dahyun placing her hand over his shaking ones to
still him.
“His ex cheated on him.”
Another puff of her cigarette, followed by a clearing of the throat. “Didn’t he cheat on you too?”
Taehyung froze. No matter the brevity, the lightness in which she uttered those words, it
nevertheless dragged a painful memory to the surface; one that he’d tried to bury with moderate
success. Yes and no. No, they weren’t dating. They never had. Will we ever? He wondered.
Despite all the years they’d spent together, Seokjin was never truly his. He only got a slight taste of
what it felt like, to be able to call Seokjin his lover. And yet despite all of that, regardless of the
cold hard facts laid out on the table, Seokjin choosing Joowon over him still felt like betrayal. It
burned, it seared, it scarred.
“It’s not exactly the same-”
“But it still hurt you bad, baby,” Dahyun shook her head. “It’s the same.”
“It’s NOT,” he objected, shocked by the volume of his own voice. He could feel a certain anger
bubbling inside him. “He’s…it’s…it’s like he saw this coming. Jimin said he wasn’t even surprised
when it happened. It’s like, it’s like he’s punishing himself. Like every mistake he makes he has to
suffer tenfold because of it.” He felt a stinging in his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself
of the emotion. “I’ve forgiven him a long time ago. But my god, I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive
himself.”
She snuffed out her cigarette against the ash tray, the last traces of smoke lingering in the air before
curling upwards into the night sky. The boy’s eyes were glassy now, fingers curled into tight fists,
again chewing furiously on his lip as if biting back his feelings.
He still loves him.
“You deserve someone who can love you with their whole heart. I hope you know that.”
“I know. But so does he.”
Out of the corner of their eye they both spotted the bathroom door opening and closing, hot steam
billowing out into the living room. Taehyung took a deep breath in, then out, dreading the very
notion of stepping back inside to bear other burdens he wasn’t ready to carry. He was feeling too
much. He wanted to be alone.
“Noona,” he sniffed. “I think…I wanna go back to the dorms tonight.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I’ll just walk there,” he paused upon seeing the sadness in her eyes. “Thanks for everything, as
always.” Another pause before he offered a watery smile. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
---
[“Yoongi’s Bitches” group chat]
Jimin: It’s fine. I’m just gonna die alone, I’ve already accepted it
Hoseok: Don’t you and Kookie have a marriage pact?
Jungkook: We keep upping the age, haha

Yoongi: What’s it at now?
Jimin: Originally we said 30, but that’s kind of soon. So 40.
Namjoon: 40 seems kinda soon too...
Jungkook: I don’t know why this guy is so ungrateful, anyone would be lucky to marry me
Seokjin: NO
Namjoon: NO
Yoongi: NO
Hoseok: HELLLLL NAH
Jimin: HAHAHA
Jungkook: WOWW. I see the kind of friends you are
Namjoon: Don’t worry Minnie, you’ll find someone
Jimin: Unlikely.
Hoseok: Joon, you doing anything special for Valentine’s?
Namjoon: Oh yeah. Daisy and I are going away for the weekend, we’re renting a beach house
Seokjin: So romantic you two
Namjoon: Haha yeah. How bout you Jin? You and Joowon?
Seokjin: Ah, we broke up.
Namjoon: Shit I’m sorry.
Seokjin: Nah it’s chill. Was bound to happen sooner or later
Namjoon: Shit, I’m sorry dude…I didn’t know…
Yoongi: Oh WHAT?????!
Seokjin: Yeah. It’s really not a big deal
The walk from Hyungsik and Dahyun’s apartment back to the campus dormitories was only a brisk
twenty minutes, so that by the time the group chat was in full swing, Taehyung had long settled
down into his living space, monitoring the conversation from his desk chair, taking occasional sips
from the soda he’d stolen from Ilhoon’s mini fridge. Two of his roommates were already back.
Changsub was currently preoccupied with clipping his toenails while Ilhoon was tucked away in
his little corner, fully invested in some European indie film.
Taehyung waited with the patience of a saint. He was good at it, he liked to think. The whole
waiting thing. He used to be terribly overeager, but the saying “practice makes perfect” proved to
be true. He waited until the frenzy in the group chat died down before finally messaging Seokjin
separately, about half an hour later. Cool and collected. As a concerned friend and nothing more.
Taehyung: Hey. You free to talk on the phone?
Seokjinnie: Yes.
He dialed the boy’s number, quickly clambering from his chair to his bed, crawling under the
covers to get comfortable when Seokjin picked up on the second tone.
“Hey,” Taehyung mumbled into the receiver. “I saw what happened. You okay?”
“Honestly, I’m fine,” Seokjin assured, his voice sounding forcibly light. “Don’t worry about me,
Tae.”
But they continued to talk for an hour or so, Seokjin telling a story that Taehyung already knew
(although he pretended it was all news), that he’d happened upon Joowon grinding and making out
with some girl on the dancefloor, that Jungkook had beaten the shit out of him just as Taehyung
had (to which Taehyung snorted a satisfied laugh), that the four of them got kicked out of the club
and subsequently banned for life (earning more bemused cackles from Taehyung - Jimin failed to
mention that last detail), that apparently Joowon had been cheating on Seokjin for nearly three
months preceding the end of their relationship.
“It’s really over, huh?” Taehyung whispered for the tenth time.
“Yeah,” Seokjin sighed, followed by a chuckle. “God, I wasted so much time.”
“Did you two have Valentine’s Day plans?” Taehyung asked. Just out of curiosity.
“Ah, that’s right. We did,” Seokjin admitted. “I think both of us forgot about it, we planned it ages
ago. We were supposed to go out of town. His family has a vacation home down south.”
“So what are you going to do now?”

“Honestly?” He paused. “Just spend a nice weekend at home. I just want to rest.”
“That does sound nice.”
Chapter End Notes
This chapter was kinda long, no? I didn't want to split it up, felt like the scenes flowed
nicely from one to another. This officially marks the end of Sophomore Year, the next
chapter will move on to the next "era," if you will. I don't know what else to call it
LOL.
Anyway, thanks so much for keeping up with the story. As always let me know your
thoughts, feelings, opinions, etc. I always respond.
Limbo
Chapter Notes
Review tags before reading. :) Enjoy.
February: Limbo
“Being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.”
To which Seokjin hummed in agreement. “Hmm. I like that. I like that a lot. Did you come up with
that yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Just now?”
“Yeah. Hey, do you always talk this much when you run?”
“You’re so philosophical, Yoongi.”
“I did take a philosophy class last semester.”
“Aha. Is that why you had so many existential crises?”
“Come again?”
“Like the whole bathing thing, are you still doing that?”
Yoongi came to a screeching halt, hands coming to his hips in an act of indignance.
“Hey. I take baths because it’s an enjoyable experience, not because I’m having meltdowns.”
“Oh,” Seokjin skidded to a stop as well, knees bent as he stifled a laugh at his friend’s reaction.
“Who told you that BS? Was it Jimin? That fucker.”
It’d been a while since he ran. He used to go fairly regularly, squeeze in a couple miles wherever
his schedule would see fit. But for the last half year or so his running shoes sat neglected in his
closet, collecting dust. He didn’t know why he stopped. Turning over a new leaf made him want to
start again.
Not that starting over was ever an easy feat. His joints, his muscles ached with every step, his eyes
constantly gravitating towards his phone screen, checking how much further they had left until the
three mile mark. Yoongi, who claimed to never voluntarily subject himself to physical activity
a.k.a. needless suffering, was holding up surprisingly well, keeping with Seokjin’s pace and
complaining only once since they’d began.
“You’re doing great,” Seokjin remarked as they jogged side by side.
“Are you mocking me.”
“Can you just take a compliment without making it a THING?”
They flung themselves across the imaginary finish line as Seokjin’s phone went off into a frenzy,
announcing their long-awaited liberation. He cackled as his friend stumbled towards a patch of
lawn, collapsing onto all fours and digging his fingers into the cold grass, letting out a blood-
curdling scream of mixed frustration and relief. The greyish river stretched out vast before them,
listless and unsympathetic to their pain.
With an ungraceful thud Seokjin joined Yoongi on the ground, eventually laying down on his back
so that his gaze was fixed on the muggy skies of Seoul.
“I don’t want to do this EVER again,” Yoongi wheezed. “Let’s just stick to drinking, okay? No
more of this healthy shit.”
“But it’s so sad if I have to run alone,” Seokjin pouted.
“Not my damn problem. Find someone else to yammer their ear off.”
To which Seokjin pouted even harder.
“Okay fine. Stop looking at me like that,” Yoongi huffed, avoiding eye contact. “But my reward
afterwards is beer.”
“Counterproductive, but sure.”
The fact of the matter was, Seokjin was always down for alcohol, even if it meant smack in the
middle of a weekday. They bid the riverside goodbye and returned to civilization, walking into the
nearest gastropub that allowed such casual attire and sitting themselves comfortably at the end of
the empty bar. Over the course of an hour they chugged three glasses of beer each, both of them
comfortably buzzed, conversation slow, languid, easy.
“What I said earlier, about the existential crisis,” Yoongi cleared his throat, adjusting the headband
across his forehead. “I admit…okay yeah, sometimes I freak out. And yeah, bathing really helps.
Not that I go around telling people this, don’t know where Jimin heard it from. Anyway. There’s
just something about…sitting in a piping hot tub of water and being surrounded by silence. Your
mind goes blank. It’s the greatest thing.”
“Huh.”
“You got a tub at your place?”
“I do, actually. Never used it before.”
“You should try it. Just once.”

—
He jumped into the shower for a quick rinse the moment he got home, ridding himself of dirt and
sweat before stepping out to clean the tub’s inner walls. When he was satisfied with his work he
plugged the drain and twisted the knob with a squeak, watching as the water rose to the top edge.
He stood there in his naked form, small beads trickling down his damp skin, hesitant to step back
in as a thick, menacing steam swirled upwards from its surface.
But after dipping in a toe, then a foot, then a leg, he gradually lowered himself into the bath,
everything scalding to the touch but his body adjusting to the temperature rather quickly. He
skimmed his fingers through the barrage of bubbles, leaning against the wall of the tub with a tired
sigh.
Yoongi had said that the silence was golden, so Seokjin heeded his friend’s advice carefully. He
sat in the quiet, propping his feet on the other side and wiggling his toes out of the water. This is
nice, he stretched his limbs, muscles still aching from the run but thankful for the soothing heat.
After splashing around a bit to his own amusement he resigned to absolute stillness, waiting for the
“blank” feeling to take over. The precious zen that Yoongi chased so fervently. But the longer he
sat, the more haunting the silence became.
The soft drip, drip, drip of residual water from the faucet; was it taunting him? Why did it seem to
ricochet off the bathroom walls? Why was his mind racing with thoughts, more so than ever
before?
It would be better if he still lived on campus. If he could just walk back into his tiny shared room
whenever such thoughts entered his mind. It didn’t matter that the place perpetually reeked of old
socks and mildew. He could have Sungmin distract him with thoughtful discussion, or maybe ask
Taejoon to go out and grab a bite at the canteen, or…no, he’d never voluntarily hang out with
Minho. But simply being in the presence of people, surely it would be better than this .
He lowered himself further into the water until only his eyes and his nose remained above the
surface. Why didn’t I bring my phone? He groveled, wishing he could listen to any sort of music or
watch a mind-numbing show. Why is this…stressful? Perhaps if he’d had the consideration to bring
a candle or two with him, would it feel less isolating?
It’d been two and a half, going on three weeks since his breakup with Joowon, and up until that
very moment he’d been feeling pretty great. Going on runs with Yoongi. Raiding the Park-Jeon
household pantry. Picking up old hobbies he’d previously abandoned. Even tried cooking with the
groceries his mother had bought him.
But as he bided time on his lonesome in that empty apartment...certain as the tide, it suddenly hit
him; wave after wave of sorrow. Regret.
He gasped for air as he rose out of the water, choking back a sob, tears rolling forth and pouring
down his face in rapid streams. It was impossible to pinpoint where such sadness was coming
from, only that it felt as if a dam had been broken. He covered his face with his hands, finding
comfort in the warm steam condensing upon his cheeks.
He hated the feeling, for it threatened to swallow him whole. But even more terrifying was the
admission that he’d have to get used to his feeling. That he’d have to live with it for the rest of his
life.
His mind was made up; no more fooling around. This chapter of his life with Joowon had finally
come to a close, and parting ways with it was like a stab to his gut. Because even though Joowon
never loved him (and vice versa), he was with him. Kept him company as he stalled the inevitable,
as he did a slow march towards his ill suited fate. In a strange way he almost felt indebted towards
the elder.
But from now on, he took a shuddering breath, deploring for the tears to stop. From now on, you
have to accept your circumstances as they are. Maybe his younger self had been too hopeful; had
rebelled too quickly the night Jia was introduced to him for the first time. Had been too naive, to
think that there was some sort of loophole for him and Taehyung to work things out. Had been too
selfish, to use Joowon like a drug and put Taehyung through hell, too. Had he given in right then
and there; had he taken the blow from the beginning, had he crushed his hopes quickly and
followed the markings along the side of the road…perhaps they’d all be in a better place now.
Him, Joowon, Taehyung. It was his fault, it was his fault, it was his fault.
Was it too late to make it right?
His sobs subsided to sniffles, then eventually to low chuckles as he realized how pathetic he
must’ve looked, bawling in the tub like a total fucking loser. He laughed behind his pruny hands,
splashing water onto his face to snap himself out of it. If Jungkook saw him like this, surely he’d
yank him out of the tub, stark naked, dick out, didn’t matter, and give him a roaring pep talk about
grabbing life by the balls.
He swallowed thickly, pushing back his wet hair with as much resolve as he could muster.
I am a gay man…who will marry a woman.
Who will follow the footsteps of my father.
Who will take over the family empire.
Who will someday have a family of my own.
And so it goes. Rinse, wash, repeat until someone breaks.
But it won’t be him.
Because at the end of his life, he’ll be able to look back with dignity. Hollow and empty too, but no
one else has to know.
“Being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.”
But why do I still feel lonely even when I’m not alone?
---
For the week following he didn’t leave his apartment, stepping outside only once to buy a pack of
beer from the convenience store before slinking back into his cave. So it’s colder this week, he
thought to himself as he cracked open a can and sank into the same spot on the couch.
His phone would go off every once in a while. Memes exchanged via group chats, the occasional
check in from his mother, friends asking him if he wanted to hang out. “Wanna grab a drink?” or
“You down for movie night?” But to every invitation he responded with a lame excuse to get out of
it.
Three day straight he’d worn the same clothes; a pair of grey sweatpants frayed at the hems, a
white tee now dotted with splotches of wine and splatters of sauce. When was the last time I
showered? He wondered as he laid down after finishing his beer, adjusting the cushion so it
cradled his head more comfortably.
He was usually a pretty clean guy, maintaining his home with respectable order, everything in its
rightful place. From his place on the couch he surveyed his now unrecognizable apartment; snack
bags strewn in every direction, the surface of his coffee table completely covered with junk, dishes
piled high in the sink, food crusting, dirty clothes littered across the carpet.
The feeling of loneliness; he didn’t want to be afraid of it. He wanted it to become a friend.
The weather report on the television told him it was going to rain over the weekend. Even better,
he smiled to himself as he pulled the throw blanket over his shoulders. With a soft exhale his eyes
drooped to a close, the alcohol in his system helping to lull him into slumber. Sleep never came
easy, but liquor was his godsend.
Lately he’d been having the same dream over and over again. The moment the scenery unfolded he
recognized it, knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind it wasn’t real, but all of it always felt
too tangible, too vibrant, almost cinematic. Once again he was taken down a long train corridor, the
windows in his car trembling as he and the other passengers rattled through nondescript
countryside. He could see his designated station coming into view, its lights almost glaringly
bright in the grey, but just as quickly as they’d approached it, the train had whooshed past it
without mercy, Seokjin clambering to a window and watching it disappear before his eyes. “Can
someone stop?” He could hear himself crying out again to the faceless riders. “Why aren’t we
stopping?” And the train kept going and going, faster and faster until the shaking became
unbearable.
It was usually at this point in his nightmare that he’d jolt awake, covered with a thin sheen of sweat
and gripped by a racing heart. But what pulled him out of sleep this time was something beyond his
dreamworld; a doorbell.
He blinked awake with a gasp, the outlines of his living room coming into focus as he heaved a
sigh of relief and eased up into a sitting position. Had he been dreaming still? Had he heard it
correctly? But as his eyes trained on the door and the possible figure standing behind it, there it
was again. A resounding ring.
Rising from the couch and padding towards the door, he took a moment to steady his breathing
before unlocking it and swinging it open.
Light from the hallway spilled into the dark, scent of the cold air from outside thick like a cloud.
There before him, with his tousled brown hair, bright-eyed and breathless, was Taehyung.
“Hi,” they spoke in unison.
Am I still dreaming?
A silence ensued, as Seokjin took in the sight of the boy at his door with disbelief. Gaze passing
over the baby blue sweater peeking out from underneath his peacoat, the straps of his trusty red
backpack wrapped securely around his shoulders, the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“What...what are you doing here?”
He licked his lips. “I was uh...in the area. Wanted to stop by and see you.”
“I thought you just went back to Daegu a couple weeks ago?”
“Ah, yeah.” He shrugged. “Had to come back for something.”
“Oh. I see,” Seokjin nodded, brows furrowed. As discreetly as he could he pinched his index finger
and thumb together, wincing at the slight pain and acknowledging that all of this was in fact, real,
and not a fabrication of his mind. “I’m sorry, come in,” he mumbled, stepping aside to allow
Taehyung into the apartment.
The moment his guest entered the space he was suddenly aware of how messy it must’ve looked.
Scrambling to straighten some of the fallen cushions was no use. Why was it that every time
Taehyung caught him off guard his life looked like a disaster zone? A blush crept over his cheeks
as he gestured for him to take a seat on the couch, tossing away the throw blanket to make room
for the both of them.
“So what brings you back?” Seokjin asked with curiosity. He settled on the opposite end, hugging a
pillow to his chest to hide the stains on his shirt. Taehyung was perhaps the last person he expected
to see on the other side of the door.
“Can I stay with you this weekend?”

The words came tumbling out of Taehyung’s mouth without warning, a look of shock flashing
across Seokjin’s face upon hearing them.
“You...said you were free this weekend, right?” Taehyung pressed on, carefully.
This weekend? What’s this weekend?
Oh right.
“Yeah, I am.”
Valentine’s Day.
“So...can I?”
The question really should’ve been, could Seokjin say no to the look on his face? It was easy to
stand his ground when the two were apart, but now that they were face to face he felt himself
melting into putty, nearly cooing at the doe-eyed, hopeful boy perched across from him.
Every fiber of his being screamed that this was a bad idea. He didn’t trust his own self restraint,
and he certainly couldn’t count on Taehyung’s; he’d always possessed a devilish charm about him
and it was already working its magic on Seokjin. Since when did he become so pretty? Cheeks
flushed from the February wind, tresses soft and wispy, legs folded demurely beneath him. We’re
friends, he assured himself unconvincingly. And if we’re friends, then there’s nothing wrong with
spending the weekend together.
Just us, in a secluded apartment. And it’s cold outside but here, inside, it’s so warm-
“Of course,” his mouth moved beyond his control. “I’d love it if you stayed.”
“Thank you,” Taehyung broke into a grin, breathing a sigh of relief. With a light thump he set
down his backpack on the ground, peeling the coat away from his shoulders.
“You look really nice, by the way.” He wanted to kick himself in the foot as soon as he said it. Not
an ounce of self control.
“What’re you saying,” the boy murmured shyly, eyes forming into little crescent moons.
“Can’t I compliment a friend?”
He could barely get the last word out without choking on his own spit. He’d always been a bad
liar.
---
The first order of things was for Taehyung to change out of his stiff jeans and fancy sweater into
something more homey, comfortable. “Where’s the bathroom?” Seokjin pointed him in the right
direction, waited until the door closed behind him before leaping to his feet and grabbing as much
trash as he could in one go. Plastic bags, crinkled cans, empty boxes. He was just about to dispose
all of said contents when Taehyung reemerged from the bathroom, donning a rather domestic
lounge set.
“Need help?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Seokjin shook his head adamantly. “Sit down and rest, I’ll get you
something to drink-”
“Well that sounds boring,” he pouted, stepping up to the kitchen sink and rolling up his sleeves.
They worked in tandem, Seokjin straightening out the chaos in the living room, Taehyung slowly
but surely chipping away at the pile of dishes. How long has he been living like this? Taehyung
wondered, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of grime on a pan.
With a satisfied sigh Seokjin discarded the last of the garbage, looking up from his work to see the
boy hovering over the sink, brows pinched in concentration as he cleaned each item and stacked it
neatly on the rack to the side. He remembered when Joowon used to exist in his place, usually
washing out his protein shake bottle after he’d returned from the gym. How oddly refreshing it was
to see Kim Taehyung standing there instead.
They finished the rest of the dishes together, Taehyung lathering and rinsing, Seokjin drying and
stowing them away in the cabinets. Once they switched off the water and dried their hands on
towels, Taehyung turned to get a good look at his friend under the bright kitchen lights. “When
was the last time you shaved?” He chuckled, peering at the stubble growing along his chin,
Seokjin smiling sheepishly in return. “Or showered?” A small groan.
“Feel like you should, no?” He urged, giving the taller boy a gentle shove. “It’ll help you feel
better, trust me.”
A bit of playful push and pull before Seokjin finally gave in, retreating into the bathroom with a
small “hmph.” Taehyung waited until he heard the turn of the nozzle and the hammering of water
against the bathtub floor to knock.
“Hand me your dirty clothes.”
The door opened just a crack, hot steam pouring out of it, Seokjin’s hand wriggling through with
the pile of clothes he’d just removed. He was definitely naked on the other side, something
Taehyung tried hard not to think about, focusing on the very exciting task of laundry instead.
He dumped the items into the washing machine, along with the contents of his hamper and
everything off of the floor. Pouring a hefty amount of detergent into the mix, he slammed the lid
shut and pressed start, watching with pride as the load sloshed around in the soapy water. Within
the first hour he’d arrived at Seokjin’s place they’d already accomplished an impressive amount
together.
With the apartment finally clean, he migrated back to the living room, settling down into the couch
to catch his breath. He soaked in every bit of the space, the exceedingly plain decor, the sleek and
modern furniture, the way the last of the evening’s light seeped in through the glass and cast
shadows across the walls. While it was technically the second time Taehyung had been inside, it
was the first time he got the chance to examine his surroundings in peace and quiet. A beautiful
home, particularly for someone of their age. But a lonely, empty one.
His head perked up at the sound of Seokjin stepping out from the bathroom, his face feeling
awfully hot when he realized that he boy only had a towel wrapped around his waist, his back
slicked wet and glistening in the dim hall.
“You forgot to bring me clean clothes,” Seokjin teased, disappearing into his bedroom and leaving
Taehyung in a heated daze.
---
It was awkward.
They both saw it coming, but it was a different thing to live it. When busy hands fell limp at their
sides, there lingered in the air a nervous energy, Taehyung fidgeting with the hem of his long
sleeve, Seokjin picking off dust bunnies from a cushion. The boy had returned to the living room
like a brand new person, night and day from when Taehyung first found him; freshly clothed, hair
slightly damp against a clean-shaven face.
“I’m handsome, aren’t I?” Seokjin asked coolly, cutting through the silence. Taehyung merely let
out a shy laugh and shook his head, gaze fixed pointedly at his own lap.
Why did I come here? He licked his lips. What was I thinking? As if on cue, a low grumble
sounded from the pit of his stomach, only furthering his embarrassment, pink blooming into
crimson.
“Oh shit,” Seokjin mumbled. “Did you eat yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Why don’t we order in? There’s a really good Korean Chinese restaurant I usually get delivery
from.”
“Okay.”
They ate dinner in front of the television, each with their own servings of jajangmyeon with a
shared plate of tangsuyuk in the middle. They flipped aimlessly through the channels until they
landed on a random Korean drama, not knowing anything of the beginning but ultimately watching
the entire episode.
Near the end of the program Seokjin cleared their take-out boxes, asking Taehyung if he fancied
any post-dinner wine. Under normal circumstances the boy would’ve turned the offer down
without hesitation, but given his heightened nerves, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, he
nodded a firm “yes.”
He returned to the living room with two glasses and a large bottle of Malbec, pouring generously
for both and handing Taehyung his portion.
Seokjin had always boasted an admirable tolerance. Years of practice combined with favorable
genetics. Taehyung on the other hand spiraled out of control after just one drink, leaving Seokjin to
down three more glasses on his lonesome. The television became mere background noise,
ultimately being switched off entirely as the two lazed against the sectional, conversing slow and
easy under low lamplight, relishing in the smooth liquor coating their tongues. By the time they
nearly finished the bottle Taehyung felt as if his whole body was on fire, skin burning like a
furnace, blood reaching a boiling point, mind spinning. Seokjin wasn’t any better; eyes hooded,
head lolling to the side.
They sat on opposite ends of the couch facing one another, each with their backs propped against
an arm rest, legs stretched out in front of them. They’d been good so far.
Until Taehyung maneuvered a leg so that his foot rested against Seokjin’s thigh, giving him an
innocent nudge.
“How are you actually doing?”
“Despite appearances, better.”
“Convince me,” Taehyung chuckled, his foot now rubbing up and down along Seokjin’s hip. The
latter tried his very best to ignore the sensation and formulate proper words in response.
“Well you’re here now,” Seokjin looked up coyly from his wine. “So, better.”
“What about before I got here?” He asked, trying not to let his colors show.
Lonely. I felt lonely.

“I don’t know.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Who, Joowon?”
“Yeah.”
Seokjin answered sincerely this time. “No.” He mulled over the question further, drunkenly
pressing his lip on the rim of his glass. “I feel like if anything...I wasted a lot of time.” A pause. “I
regret it.”
“Don’t think of it as a waste,” Taehyung shook his head. “It was a learning experience, no? You
grew a lot from this. And I’m sure you had good times too.”
“Thanks for trying to make me feel better. But you know, you were the one who made me realize it
in the first place.”
“Realize what?”
“That the good times will never make up for the bad.”
“I’m glad you realized.” His heart was overflowing.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell me to leave,” Taehyung admitted, shifting in his seat and moving
closer (ever so subtly).
“No, no. I’m really...I feel happy,” he slurred, resting his temple on the couch and maintaining eye
contact with Taehyung. “I missed you.”
Maybe it was the wine. Or the fact that he hadn’t slept properly in days. But all factors combined, it
made Seokjin unbearably honest.
And for Taehyung, it gave him courage; his hand reaching down to wrap around Seokjin’s foot,
thumb gently stroking across skin and bone.
Alarms began ringing in his head. Be careful.
“Tae.”
The boy paused mid-stroke, albeit hand still gripped around his ankle. “Mm?”
Seokjin swallowed down the lump in his throat, heart pounding like a tiny war drum. He was
weak. He had no conviction.
“We need to be careful,” he stammered, every inch of his body screaming otherwise.
“Why?” Taehyung retorted, doing the exact opposite and scooting closer, hand slowly traveling up
Seokjin’s ankle, then calf, then knee. They were sitting considerably closer now, Taehyung in the
middle of the couch, Seokjin pressed warily against the far end.
“Just…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t want to. He was usually good at upkeeping a
poker face, but even he had a limit. He knew his eyes were probably betraying him, burning with
desire and Taehyung could most definitely see it. They knew each other too well.
We’re both not thinking straight.
Someone stop us.
“Just what?” Taehyung whispered, inching forward until his hand squeezed Seokjin’s lower thigh.
“Taehyung-”
But Taehyung didn’t care anymore. He wedged himself in between Seokjin’s legs, the two so close
that they could smell the alcohol on each other’s breaths. “What did you want to say?”
“Don’t...don’t do this,” Seokjin breathed, rolling his neck back, groaning as he caught sight of
Taehyung’s grip on his upper thigh now. Instinctively his own hand snaked up Taehyung’s leg,
giving the boy the green light to rise slightly from the couch and settle into his lap, straddling him.
They were both delirious, tipsy out of their mind, driven by wild lust, fueled by the fact that the
world outside no longer existed and the two were utterly alone for the first time in years. But both
were also sober enough to know exactly what they were doing, Taehyung’s face so close to
Seokjin’s that their noses were touching, lips ghosting, panting in unison.
“I know we said we’d be friends,” Taehyung whispered, pressing his forehead against Seokjin’s.
“And I know that’s for the better, I really do.” He could feel Seokjin’s hand moving up his thigh,
reaching around to grab at his ass, releasing a small whimper from his throat. “Then I look at you
and fuck, all of that goes out the window,” he mumbled, lips brushing against Seokjin’s warm
cheek. “I’m sorry if I’m being greedy, or selfish,” he whispered. “But I want you to be mine.”
Seokjin found himself burying his face into Taehyung’s shoulder in response, familiar scent of
lavender filling his nose. He’d longed for this his whole life, he felt. All resolve of self control
forgotten, his palms glided further up Taehyung’s back, fists bunching together the fabric of
Taehyung’s shirt, pulling him closer with an uncharacteristic fierceness. “I want to be with you,” he
admitted. “So bad you don’t even know.”
“So I’m right here,” Taehyung murmured into his hair. “I’m all yours.”
To which Seokjin released a long, shuddering breath against Taehyung’s chest before pulling away
for a moment, hands reaching upwards to cup his pretty face instead. Silence, as their eyes searched
one another’s, glassy and hooded and true.
“Let’s be good,” Seokjin whispered, secretly abhorring himself for spewing utter bullshit. “Okay?”
He urged with a sad smile.
But Taehyung had been through this too many times, was too smart to listen to his friend’s empty
words. So he grabbed a hold of Seokjin again, nuzzling his face into Seokjin’s neck, skin on skin,
cheeks rubbing together, warm from the liquor and the friction and the blood rushing to their heads.
It was as if he was trying to leave a mark.
“I don’t want to be good.”
They held each other until they lost track of time, until their drunkenness dissolved into sleepiness.
Until Seokjin mumbled into the crook of Taehyung’s neck that it was probably time to go to bed.
He gave up his room for Taehyung, gathering spare blankets and pillows and laying them out on
the couch for himself. They bid each other goodnight before going separate ways, both settling
under their covers, minds dizzy with the events that had just transpired. Taehyung lay awake until
nearly dawn, replaying the feeling of Seokjin’s heated skin against his, falling asleep to the hope
that maybe a new day would bring another chance for the two of them.
Chapter End Notes
o__________________o
What are your thots? Thots and prayers? Thots and feelings? Thots?
This mini era is simply called "Limbo." This fic is technically divided into three parts:
high school (Like a rose when in bloom), college (Like cherry blossoms scattered in
the wind), and young adult (Like morning glory when fading). Limbo is wedged
somewhere in between.
Limbo
Chapter Notes
I am so sorry for the delay. I realize it's been 2 weeks since I last updated. Enjoy.
He blinked his eyes open to a darkened room, the world beyond its windows devoid of any light;
not even a hint of it. With a slight groan he rose from his pillow, glancing at his phone to verify the
hour. Still a bit of time to kill until sunrise.
It always happened like this, alcohol fucking with his system. Coaxing him into dreamland yet
yanking him out of it at the ass-crack of dawn. An empty wine bottle and two glasses stained red
stood as a testament on the coffee table. Seokjin bore a hole through the innocuous objects, his
skin crawling hotter the longer he did so, until he burned so intensely he had to look away.
Turning onto his side to face the back of the couch instead, he decided it best to distract himself
with various mobile games until the day’s first rays seeped through the blinds, dousing a corner of
his living room in a pool of palish yellow. The time at the top of his device read 8:00AM.
It’s still too early, isn’t it?
But he was restless.
With gentle footsteps he padded across the living room, down the dim hall until he reached his
bedroom at the end of it. The door had been left ajar just a crack, Seokjin easing it open until there
was enough space for him to slip inside.
The room was warmer than the rest of the apartment, its usually stark walls glowing clementine in
the morning. Silence, save for the monotonous ticking of the clock on the nightstand and the sing-
song of birds from outside. The boy in the bed remained fast asleep, shoulders rising and falling
like a steady sea.
I shouldn’t wake him.

Taehyung seemed innocent like this, now that Seokjin was kneeling at his bedside, eye-level with
the his long butterfly lashes and pink petaled cheeks. The slightest bit of drool dribbled from the
corners of his mouth, Seokjin resisting the urge to wipe it away with his thumb. He looks like a
baby, he smiled, heart surging with affection at the sight of him. An angel. Nothing like the demon
Seokjin knew he could be.
He’d fallen asleep with his phone wedged awkwardly beneath the pillow. Careful not to wake him
in the process, he pried the device away to place on the nightstand, its screen lighting up at the
slightest touch. He didn’t mean to read the message previews splayed across the front, but once his
eyes caught wind of the first one he didn’t know how to stop himself.
Hyungsik hyung: Taehyung-ah…did you leave Daegu without telling me?
Hyungsik hyung: Hmm I feel like you’re avoiding me. Really hope I didn’t scare you off… :(
Hyungsik hyung: I’ll be real with you
Hyungsik hyung: I can’t change the way I feel about you
Hyungsik hyung: But I don’t expect you to change either :) So don’t worry
Hyungsik hyung: I’m sorry~ Hyung is sorry~
It felt like a knife to the gut as his insides twisted with pain, as the phone devolved to black once
more, black swallowing him whole despite the rest of the room dripping in gold. I shouldn’t have
read that, he chastised himself, running a hand through his hair, the other gripped tightly upon his
hip, knuckles white. He took a steadying breath as his eyes flitted to Taehyung’s sleeping form,
fondness momentarily puncturing his panic, prompting him to pull the covers further over his
shoulders before walking out of the room in a haze.
It was the thought of Hyungsik waiting in Daegu; forlorn, anxious, alone. The events from the
night before; almost-kisses and wandering hands. Suddenly he felt as if his whole body was on fire,
the entire apartment coming to a dangerous boil. With one swift movement he peeled the shirt off
his back and chucked it to the side, beads of sweat trickling down his neck in little rivers.
He awoke to the fragrance of freshly brewed coffee, to wintry white light pouring in through the
windows on the far side. He could hear the sound of soft clinking, the opening and closing of
cabinets drifting in from the kitchen. And then there were the blankets snug around him like a
cocoon, thick and toasty and smelling faintly of laundry and pine. He hugged the fabric closer to
him, taking in a deep breath and relishing in the sensation. So this is what happiness feels like.
In a minute he’d gather himself together to join Seokjin and the living, but for now he wanted to
spend just a little more time wrapped up in Heaven. Poking a single arm out of his burrito he
grabbed a hold of his phone from the nightstand, skimming over the lock screen to catch up on
what he’d missed while he was sleeping. 9:30AM, he noted. A flood of notifications from the
group chat, probably the same bullshit as usual. A text from Jimin, a picture of something
presumably funny followed by several rows of “ㅋㅋㅋ”. Couple of perfunctory emails from
university, nothing urgent. And then he saw it, and he immediately wished he hadn’t, his eyes
glossing over the block of messages numerous times before tucking his phone away with a shaky
sigh. I can’t deal with this right now, he groaned internally, hiding his face behind his hands as his
heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach, guilt, anxiety, dread all muddling together and churning
unpleasantly.
Perhaps it was due time that he got out of bed.
The air outside the bedroom was much cooler, albeit laced with the rich scent of coffee that had
summoned him in the first place, said aroma growing stronger as he tiptoed down the hall, the
sound of Seokjin’s gentle humming drawing a grin to his lips as he rounded the corner, the
kitchen’s granite countertops coming into view.
It was a sight he wasn’t prepared for and frankly would’ve appreciated some sort of warning
beforehand; shirtless Seokjin hovered over the french press, band of his underwear peeking out
from his pajama bottoms, back muscles flexing as he pushed down on the plunger, black coffee
rising past the filter, hairs on Taehyung’s neck and perhaps something else-
He didn’t realize he’d slammed into the wall until Seokjin whipped around in a fright.
“Oh my GOD, are you okay?”
“FUCK-”
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he winced, rubbing at his arm.
“What was that?” Seokjin teased with a laugh. “You sure you’re awake?”
“I-” The boy swallowed thickly, gaze unwittingly landing on his bare chest and abs once again,
Seokjin finally remembering his half-naked state, both of them descending into varied shades of
crimson.
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin mumbled, not knowing what exactly he was apologizing for, folding his arms
across his chest to make himself smaller.
“Gonna use the bathroom.”
“Right. Yeah, go ahead.”
He closed the door behind him a little too quickly, cursing under his breath as he towered over the
porcelain sink, image of that subtle dip in Seokjin’s spine burned into his mind, details of the
previous night’s drunken escapade replaying like a broken record. Skin on skin, flames and
mistakes, fireworks. Splashing a generous amount of water over his face, he willed himself to cool
down in every physical, mental, and emotional aspect, chanting “Get a hold of yourself,” until he
felt his heart rate slow to something bearable.
Gripping the sides of the sink and staring into his own reflection, he took a deep, steadying breath
before reopening the door, met with both relief and disappointment upon spotting an empty
kitchen, freshly pressed coffee steaming and abandoned.
“Hey.”
He whipped his head in the direction of the voice, Seokjin reappearing fully clothed from the
bedroom, clad in a hoodie and jeans as if ready to leave the house. Any trace of panic from mere
moments ago was replaced with a church-like calm.
Yeap. Relief and disappointment.
“Hi.”
“I forgot you didn’t like coffee,” Seokjin scratched his head sheepishly. “And I don’t have any tea
left. Gonna go to the store to get some. You wanna come along?”
“I can drink coffee,” Taehyung lied. Ever since high school he’d cut it out of his diet entirely,
resorting to various teas and juices instead. One cup of java could make him jittery for the rest of
the day.
“And my fridge is completely empty,” Seokjin continued. “Wanted to make us breakfast but I have
literally nothing. So I was gonna go regardless.”
“Okay,” Taehyung smiled. “I’ll come with you.”
---
Being that one, the temperatures dipped below freezing and two, it was far too early on a Saturday,
they walked down the street to the market in mostly solitude and silence, their breaths curling like
smoke in the morning air, shoulders shivering with every breeze that passed.
Neither of them dared to bring up The Incident. But both of them, in an unspoken way, knew that
the other had been sober enough to remember everything. The lack of words already spoke
volumes.
They pushed a cart through the store’s winding aisles, beelining first for ingredients they knew
they needed; a carton of eggs, a box of tea, bunches of scallions, a small but certain pile forming as
they continued to add other items just for the hell of it; a six-pack of banana milk, dried seaweed,
out-of-season mangoes.
There was something so lovely, almost sacred about it: standing side by side in the produce
section, flipping through piles of unripened fruit in search of the token ones that were ready to eat,
pale light filtering in through the lofty windows and casting a spotlight upon them, mild music
crooning through the store’s speaker system, the wheels of nearby carts squeaking as they rolled
by.
Taehyung looked up from his task, giggling at the look of concentration on Seokjin’s face as he
compared one fruit to the other, ultimately settling on neither and choosing a different one
entirely.
“What?” Seokjin murmured, tossing his selections into a plastic bag and tying a knot to secure it.
“I’ve never seen someone think so hard over a couple of peaches.”
“Well I gotta get my money’s worth, don’t I?” He retorted, booping Taehyung lightly on the nose.
That was the thing about Seokjin. He was always thinking. Sometimes too much. Often times
when he didn’t need to.
“Anything else you want?”
“I’m good,” Taehyung shook his head, eyeing the formidable mountain now sitting in their cart.
“Let’s go.”
He should’ve known better than to take the shortcut down the snack aisle with Taehyung in tow,
but he figured if he pressed forward briskly enough the boy wouldn’t have time to fixate on
anything. Yet less than a quarter way through he heard Taehyung pause in his step and “Ooohhh”
at something fascinating to their left; and then seconds later, a loud crinkle as he plopped two large
bags of shrimp chips on top of their pile.
“Tae, no,” Seokjin spoke firmly, struggling to maintain a stern face. “We already have these at
home.”
“Really?” His eyes widened, puppy-like. “But, but don’t you think we need more?” He was already
pulling the aegyo card - a cruel move on his part, for he knew it was foolproof.
“So you’re gonna eat...four bags in one weekend?” Seokjin challenged, not giving in so easily. (The
more aegyo he could milk out of Taehyung the better, anyway.)
“No, we’ll eat it together,” he whined, lips forming into a sickening pout.
“Well what if I don’t want to eat any?”

“Then I’ll eat it all by myself!” He huffed indignantly.
As if he ever stood a chance.
They eventually joined the queue for check out, a young family waiting leisurely in front of them; a
father that looked to be in his mid thirties, a mother of about the same age with an infant strapped
to her back.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung cooed, leaning slightly forward and peering into the baby’s face, causing
her to giggle sweetly.
“Hi cutie!” He gushed, breaking into silly faces, the child bursting into gurgly fits of laughter. The
mother swiveled around to see what all the fuss was about, smiling upon spotting the two good-
looking boys standing behind them.
“Say hi to the handsome oppas!” She urged, to which the little girl blinked back in quiet awe.
They left the market not long after, arms loaded down with heavy bags, the sun climbing higher in
the sky and warming their backs as they headed home. The young family exited in the opposite
direction, the child’s gaze fixed on Taehyung and Seokjin until they were no longer in view.
With the passage of time they found it easier to slip into their old ways, the tension from earlier
dissipating and replaced by familiar jokes and lighthearted banter. Taehyung had a tendency to
wear his heart on his sleeve, so if he was happy (which he was), it overflowed from him
bountifully, infectiously, Seokjin too smiling like an idiot for the first time in what felt like an
eternity.
They’d nearly rounded the corner into Seokjin’s complex when Taehyung came to a skidding halt
at a particular storefront.
“What is this place?” He wondered aloud, as he watched one of the employees unlock the front
door and flip the signage to display “open.”
“New cafe in the neighborhood, I think.”

“It’s so pretty,” Taehyung marveled, pressing a hand to the glass. “Have you tried it before?” He
inquired ever so innocently.
“Not yet,” Seokjin chuckled, noting the sparkle in the boy’s eye. A pause, as he considered the
groceries still dangling from their hands. “...You want to try it, don’t you?”
A gust of warm wind welcomed them once they stepped inside, the staff that had opened up shop
offering a small bow and gesturing towards any of the empty seats for their choosing. Taehyung
picked a table for two by the very window he’d peered through seconds earlier.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d dined somewhere so charming, lovely. Joowon and his
family usually favored ritzier establishments. With friends, anything quick and cheap, whatever got
the job done. When it came to himself, it was even less glamorous, the boy resorting to delivery on
most days. Setting their bags beside their feet, he took a minute to observe his surroundings, ears
perking at the light jazz flowing from the sound system, eyes taking in the tasteful, minimalist art
hung along the walls. Taehyung seemed to be enamored by the petite roses on their table, lifting
the vase to his nose and taking a lengthy inhale.
“Does it smell like anything?”
“I think they’re fake.”
They both laughed.
“Looks real,” Seokjin muttered, rubbing the velvety petals between his fingers.
They ordered an ungodly amount of food for the table, three large entrees to share, a latte for
Seokjin and freshly squeezed orange juice for Taehyung. As the waitress collected their menus and
scurried away to the counter, Taehyung reached for the napkin wrapped around his utensils,
absentmindedly unraveling it so he could pick the paper to shreds.
Old habits die hard.
“Tae.”
“Mmm?” He asked, tearing a long horizontal strip and placing it off to the side.
“I never got to ask you yesterday. Why did you want to visit this weekend?”
Taehyung looked up from his work, blinking perplexedly at the sudden question. “Why? Do you…
are you regretting…?”
“No,” Seokjin shut down his qualms immediately. “No. I meant it last night, when I said I’m
happy you’re here.”
“Okay,” the boy nodded, visibly relieved. “So…why did I come?” He repeated.
“Yeah. I realized you just asked if you could stay for the weekend and all I said was ‘sure.’ I’m
curious what made you wanna come in the first place.”
“If you’re expecting something complicated, I assure you it’s pretty simple. Just wanted to see ya.”
“You’re not running from anything, are you?”
Silence, as the waitress returned to their table with a tray in hand, placing their respective drinks in
front of them before excusing herself once again.
He was caught off guard.
“No,” Taehyung furrowed his brow. “Why would you ask that?”
“Sorry, I’m just…you know, curious. You showing up was a bit out of the blue, that’s all.”
“My sweet, innocent Seokjin,” he tutted with a shake of the head. “Don’t you remember when I
asked you weeks ago if you had plans this weekend? And you told me ‘no’?”
“Yeah. Of course I remember.” Valentine’s Day. A day for lovers; tender pinks, rosy reds.
“And since you said you didn’t, I made up my mind in that moment that I’d be coming to see you.”
“Okay, okay. Makes sense. Forget I asked.” Taehyung’s tone verged on defensive, and Seokjin
didn’t want to push the envelope further.
“You wanna know why I always have to surprise you?”
“Why?”
“Because if I ask you in advance, it gives you too much time to think.”
“Oh.”
“And the more time you have to think, the more likely you’ll say no.”
He stared at the growing pile of shredded paper opposite him, Taehyung’s long fingers moving
mindlessly and ceaselessly, as if he hadn’t just dropped a massive truth bomb at Seokjin’s feet.
Oftentimes it seemed as if they knew each other better than they knew themselves; Seokjin
memorizing Taehyung’s funny little habits, Taehyung predicting every word from Seokjin’s
mouth. Yet funnily enough…and Seokjin didn’t know whether to blame the lapses in their
friendship or their proclivity for secrets…but a part of him felt that they didn’t really know one
another as well as they thought they did.
“Have you liked anyone else, Tae?”
Taehyung smirked over the rim of his glass. “So many questions today.”
“Making up for lost time, that’s all.”
“Fair,” he nodded. “So...like? As in just a crush, right? Not love?”

“Yeah. Just like.”
“Well in that case, lots.”
“Indulge me.”
“God,” Taehyung ran a hand through his hair. “I was bat-shit boy-crazy back in middle school. It’s
like a laundry list, I swear…if you made me write down all of their names I probably wouldn’t
remember half of them.”
“Who was your first love then?”
Taehyung stared straight ahead through his long lashes.
“I mean the first person you had feelings for.”
“I don’t remember,” he shrugged.
“Try and remember.”
“I really, really don’t have a clue.” A pause. “And I don’t think it matters.”
Seokjin sipped thoughtfully on his latte as the waitress arrived with their food, distracting
Taehyung for a moment and leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Why is he hiding things from me?
As if Taehyung was hell-bent on telling him a story, but only sharing the good parts; the happy
times, the highlight reels, the flowery vignettes. And then there was everything else that was kept
hidden from him; the lulls and the lows, the ripped and crinkled pages, tucked away in the dark,
left to the imagination.
A light touch to his lips interrupted his thoughts, Taehyung leaning across the table to wipe excess
foam from the corner of his mouth. “What about you? Have you liked anyone else?”
He did. Except for him, it was rather simple.
“Hmm,” he mused. “Long time ago, last year of middle school.”
“Tell me.”
“There was this girl in my class.”
“Oh?”
“A lot of the guys in our grade liked her, many of my friends included. I guess you could say she
was...objectively pretty? I just couldn’t…anyway. Turns out even though we never really spoke to
each other, she somehow caught feelings for me. She cornered me in the stairwell after school one
day and confessed everything.”
“Oh wow,” he leaned back in his chair with a whistle. “Bold.”
“I know. And the whole time she was talking I was a nervous wreck, not because I had feelings
too, but because I was confused as to why I didn’t. Why everyone else was head over heels for her
but I couldn’t feel anything. So when it looked like she was about to lean in for a kiss, I let it
happen. Wanted to see if it would change my mind.”
“And?”
“It didn’t.”
“So what happened after?”

“Well I had to tell her the truth, of course. Told her sorry, that I didn’t feel the same.”
“Ouch,” Taehyung giggled. “A heartbreaker from the start.”
“Well no, here’s the thing. She ended up dating this other guy not long after.”
“Oh! Moved on quick, I see.”
“-Who happened to be the guy I was crushing on.”
“ Oh. ” A pause as the air shifted from playful to pensive. “What was he like?”
“I almost forgot his name,” Seokjin laughed. “But I remember it now. Haein. Jung Haein, in the
class next to mine. He was the opposite of me. He was warm. Really warm.”
But the Seokjin Taehyung knew was warm, too. Soft around the edges, gentle like summer rain.
Kisses like velvet, like flowers blooming in the spring.
“Anyway,” Seokjin beamed, looking back at Taehyung as if he were the only person in the world.
“That was a long, long time ago.”
---
Never in his life did he think he’d enjoy acts of domesticity as much as this. That things like fast
cars, loud music, wild dancing, none of it got his heart racing quite like waking up to coffee and
Seokjin, early morning grocery shopping, lazy brunch in a quiet cafe, and now standing in the
middle of the kitchen, unloading bags of produce into the fridge.
“Where do you want the fruit? With the veggies too or...?”
“Separate,” Seokjin advised over his shoulder. “In the bin on the right, the one next to it. Yeap, that
one.”
“Got anything else for me?” Taehyung straightened his back after arranging everything according
to instruction.
“Sadly, no,” he smirked, closing the fridge door with a small thud. “What do you wanna do-”
“Ah wait, hold on.”
He dug into his pants pocket to fish out his phone, the device buzzing noisily with a call from “My
pretty lovely Momma.” With a press of the green button the other line crackled to life, familiar
warmth of the older woman’s voice filling the otherwise quiet room.
“Yeah, Eomma?”
“Taehyung-ah,” Seokjin could hear her faint greeting. “I heard you’re back in Seoul again?”
“Yeah!”
“Why aren’t you home, darling?”
“I’m with Seokjin,” Taehyung grinned, winking at the boy standing opposite him, who leaned
against the counter with a soft smile, arms folded across his chest.
“Ah really?” She laughed. “Tell him I said hi.”
“She says hi!” Taehyung mouthed silently before turning away with a spin, stepping out of the
kitchen to speak privately with his mother. “What’s up, mom? Why the call?”
He could hear the boy stepping towards his bedroom, eventually closing the door behind him with
a gentle click. After that, only indecipherable murmurs reverberating through the wall.
Crumpling up the plastic bags and storing them under his kitchen sink, he racked his brains in
search of any other duties he could busy himself with, realizing that he’d left a load of laundry in
the dryer, yet to be retrieved. The clothes having sat in the machine overnight were now wrinkled
and cold, Seokjin hurriedly fishing out every item and filling his hamper to the brim.
With his bedroom still occupied he opted to sit on the couch instead, turning on the television to
keep him company as he folded. An old rerun of his favorite variety show, distracting him a great
deal from the task at hand.
It wasn’t until Taehyung resurfaced from his bedroom that Seokjin pried his eyes away from the
screen.
“Hey you.”
To which Taehyung smiled wordlessly in response.
There was something off about his whole demeanor, a pallor evident in his face that wasn’t there
before, his mouth drawn into a tight-lipped line as he eased himself onto the couch beside Seokjin.
It must be something with his family, Seokjin surveyed, feeding off of his friend’s nervous energy
and shifting uneasily in his place.
“Everything okay?”
To which Taehyung nodded unconvincingly. “I’m good,” he mustered after a beat, reaching for a
pair of socks to assist in the endeavor.
“You sure?” Seokjin peered at him with concern. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Nah, it’s…” He avoided eye contact. “Parents were being sappy on the phone again and it made
me emotional.”
“Do you wanna visit them? You might as well since you’re in Seoul.”
“No. I didn’t come for that this time.”

Stubborn to a fault.
“What’d you come for then? To help me with my housework?” He teased, elbowing the boy to get
a giggle out of him.
“So what if I did?”
“Well maybe it’s good to have you on board, given your fancy ways of rolling socks-”
“How else are you supposed to fold them?” Some of the color had returned to Taehyung’s cheeks.
“Nope,” Seokjin chirped, looping the two socks together in a knot. “I tie them.”
“Oh bless you, poor child,” Taehyung heaved a sigh, patting Seokjin on the knee. “Thank goodness
you have me.”
They worked methodically and without haste, the TV program on display bursting with theatrics,
the two slowing occasionally to comment on the hosts’ antics. They’d nearly reached the end of
the pile when Taehyung piped up rather abruptly:
“Can’t you see us like that too?”
Seokjin cocked his head to the side.
“Like...them?” He pointed to the television screen.
“No,” Taehyung swallowed thickly. “Like...like that family we saw at the store.”
To his surprise, Seokjin reached for the remote, lowering the volume before replying matter-of-
factly, “Yeah. I can.”
“You...you can? You mean you have? You’ve thought about it before?”
“Better question is when have I ever stopped thinking about it.”
“Even when you were with Joowon?”
“Yeah. If anything, even more so when I was with him.”
Both of them had dissolved into hushed tones, every word spilling forth sacred and delicate.
Taehyung held an old tee shirt within his hands, fingers tracing the weathered collar as he searched
for the right words to say.
“What do you mean by that?” He whispered, gaze fixed on the fabric in his clutches.
The longest silence, and then the words began to flow. Like a floodgate had been opened.
“I always get these thoughts in crowded places,” Seokjin confessed, barely audible. “When I’m
walking through the city...when I’m sitting on the train. When I’m getting onto a bus. I think of
how nice it would be if I could do all of it with you by my side.”
Taehyung held his breath.
“I always dream about family dinners. I think about this more than anything. Yours and mine
together. Everyone laughing, having a good time. A dinner where I won’t have to hold your hand
under the table but I get to put my arm around you and kiss your forehead in front of everyone and
it would be okay.”
“That would be nice.”
“And then when I get carried away in these fantasies, I think of all the...the stupid little things that I
want to do with you but we haven’t gotten the chance to. Museum trips, because you love art, and
I’ll pretend to love it because…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, chuckling sadly to himself
instead. “Go on vacation together when we’re a little older. You’ve always wanted to go to Paris,
and I’ve always wanted to go with you. I want to be there when you see the lights for the first time.
But when we’re tired of running around, we’d have a really nice home to go back to. Doesn’t have
to be anything spectacular. We’d make it our own, build it from the ground up. Raise our kids
there. Grow old there. So yeah,” he paused, looking up just as the first teardrop trickled down
Taehyung’s cheek. “I’ve thought about it.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I figured it’d be easier if you didn’t.”
“So why are you telling me now?”
“Because I don’t want you to leave here without knowing that I loved you the same way you love
me. For you to think that this whole time you were feeling these things alone, because you
weren’t.”
A shuddering breath. “You love me?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin whispered. “That’s why I want you to find someone great. Someone who can do
all of those things with you.”
Chapter End Notes
Couple of things:
1. I reactivated my Twitter. Follow me @taejindreams for fic related updates. I won't

really be posting content other than that.
2. 50% of this chapter was newly written material, hence why it took so long for me to
update. Also (not gonna lie) fluff is really challenging for me to write, it just doesn't
come easy. :( I try. Originally this chapter was supposed to include 2 more scenes but
it was becoming dreadfully long and I can't focus, my mind wanders. I'll probably
update fairly soon again with a shorter chapter bleh. In summary I have never
struggled so hard to write and I’m frustrated at myself lol.
3. Please let me know in the comments of any thoughts, insights, questions, etc. I
always, always answer.
4. Psttt y’all got fic recs? I’m tryna read more. Preferably Jikook Vmin Jinmin Taejin
Jinkook Namgi Namseok, although I’m open minded. ☺️
Limbo
Chapter Notes
Slightly shorter chapter. Enjoy!
He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t.
The sound of soft crying filled the otherwise silent room as Taehyung leaned his forehead against
Seokjin’s upper arm, small rivers flowing and soaking through the fabric of his sweatshirt.
Meanwhile Seokjin remained unmoving in his seat, speechless, certain that no words he could
muster would provide any comfort for Taehyung. For he was crying from a place of such deep
anguish, like a well at the bottom of the Earth.
Shouldn’t it be a happy thing, to know that you are loved in return?
Tentatively he snaked an arm around the boy’s back, holding him as he wept, rubbing up and down
his spine in slow patterns until his cries subsided to shaky breathing. Until all that was left were
hiccup-y sniffles, his face damp and burrowed in the crook of Seokjin’s neck. They were nearly in
the exact same position as the night before, with Seokjin pressed upon the arm rest and Taehyung
curled up against his chest. The weight of Taehyung’s body on his felt comforting, as if it belonged
there. It terrified him, to imagine what it’d be like to never feel it again.
“I’m tired,” he finally murmured, lips brushing skin. Seokjin’s hand reached to Taehyung’s nape,
fingers carding gingerly through his tousled hair.
“You wanna nap?”
A wordless nod.
“Let’s go to my room.”
A shake of the head. “I wanna sleep here.”

“Oh. Okay.”
They peeled themselves away from each other, Taehyung’s watery eyes looking into Seokjin’s
tired ones.
Even like this, he wanted to kiss him so badly.
Instead Seokjin turned his attention back to laundry, grabbing each of their little piles and stacking
them carefully into his hamper. “Wait right here,” he whispered, ducking into his room to drop off
the load and to find a more comfortable pillow for Taehyung.
By the time he returned to the living room, Taehyung was sitting smack in the center of the couch,
leaning against the back of it with a pained expression, the crown of his head touching the wall
behind him, delicate skin around his closed eyes pink and swollen.
“Lay down.”
Fluffling up the pillow and wedging it beside the armrest, he moved Taehyung into a horizontal
position, the boy lying down so that his back was facing Seokjin. Moments later he felt a throw
blanket being draped over his shoulders, then the grazing of fingers against his cheek, feather light,
before he was alone again.
He didn’t plan on sleeping. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts.
Burying his nose in the fabric of the couch, he willed his breathing to slow to normal; deep inhales
and long exhales, the air in his tiny corner limited but in a welcomed way. He longed to be
swaddled like an infant, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders so that there was little
room to move. And he wished he could’ve been cooler. That he hadn’t bawled so pathetically in
front of Seokjin for however long he did, but his emotions got the best of him and everything
bubbled and overflowed in a matter of seconds. But now, after the world had fallen quiet and all
was said and done, he was like a towel wrung dry and left to hang in the sun. No more tears to
offer; his supply had been depleted.
He contemplated the awful, wicked timing of life, how nothing ever seemed to line up and in the
most unforgiving of ways. You could fall in love with someone and they could only love you back
after you’ve fallen out of love with them. You could run breathless to catch a train and maybe the
guy on the stairs in front of you is too is too preoccupied with his phone and maybe you would’ve
been on time if it weren’t for that, but instead you’re watching the train leave the platform and its
pace is slow, achingly slow as if to rub it in. That you’ve just missed it. That whatever you wanted
was within grasp, but you just missed it.
It was the first time Seokjin had confessed in such a way, the first time he’d made known that the
very same dreams of Taehyung’s mind also bloomed in Seokjin’s. For years he’d been under the
assumption that his fantasies belonged only to him, that even if Seokjin did harbor the same
feelings he merely suppressed everything, tried his best to ignore it. But knowing now that it was
the opposite, that Taehyung in fact danced on the very forefront of Seokjin’s mind, it became too
much to bear.
The damned timing of it all.
For it was only an hour ago that he’d been staring at the ceiling, admiring the vastness of it, lying
in the center of Seokjin’s plush bed, phone pressed firmly to his ear when his mother’s voice on
the other line shifted from warm to strained.
“Taehyung-ah,” she murmured gently. “I’m worried.
“Why?” He whined with a pout, not understanding the gravity of her words.
A pause. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah, I am now. Why? Is everything okay?”
“You know I want to support you in everything you do. Eomma’s always on your team. But
because I’m on your team, I want to protect you-”
“You’re scaring me. Is it you? Or appa?
“It’s you, darling.”
“Me?”
He eased up from the mattress so that he perched at the edge of it, brows pinched in confusion,
heart quickly sinking to the pit of his stomach despite not knowing why.
“There’s something you should know.” A heavy sigh. “Something…something Seokjin probably
hasn’t brought up with you, but his mother told me not too long ago and it’s been eating away at
me. I want Seokjin to tell you himself, but I get a sense that it’s very difficult for him to talk
about.”
“What is it. Just tell me.” He didn’t mean to sound snappy, but he could’ve burst right then and
there in the waiting.
“He’s set for an arranged marriage.”
There sounded a ringing in his ear. Everything else, radio silence.
“…”
“Taehyung-ah?”
He sat in numbness for another ten seconds before managing a small, “Mm?”
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“Why sorry?” He swallowed.
“I’m sorry you didn’t know sooner. I’m sorry this is happening to him. I’m sorry that it’s affecting
you. I wish…I wish I could move things around, rearrange them for you so that everything would
fall into place. Seokjin...he was introduced to her several years ago. A young girl from another
prominent family in Seoul. To put it bluntly, it’s really a business transaction. It’s been set in stone
long before he was even made aware of it.”
He closed his eyes, the room dissolving to black, darker than night, his entire being drowning in it,
a part of him dying with it. When he opened his eyes again everything was far too bright, garish,
blinding. He wanted to close all of the curtains and sink.
“You know what Eomma is trying to say, right?” He knew. She was pleading. “I debated for
weeks, whether or not to tell you…but I feel that you have a right to know. You need to know.”
He could hear Seokjin on the other side of the door, opening the dryer with a muted click,
followed by the sound of fabric hitting the metal on its way out of the machine. It felt as if they
were worlds apart.
“You know how much I love Seokjin. He’s like another son to us. He’s always been precious to us.
And my heart, my heart breaks for him. But at the end of the day you’re our first priority. I don’t
want you to be in pain either. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
The lid of the dryer slammed shut, Seokjin’s footsteps receding into the living room. Taehyung
released all of the air out of his lungs.
She’d always had a soft heart, something she’d passed down to Taehyung (much to his dismay).
He wished that they were both stronger as he stewed with the new information, as he listened to her
wet sniffing through the receiver.
“I love you, Eomma.”
“I love you too. So much.”
“Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I won’t cry, either. Don’t worry about me.”
And then the call fizzled to nothing, Taehyung seated in silence at the foot of the bed; no tears, as
promised. Not even if he tried; he couldn’t feel a thing.
But when he picked up his heavy limbs to step into the living room, when he spotted Seokjin
cross-legged on the sofa, sweatshirt swallowing his slender frame, soft brown hair and small
sweater paws, absentmindedly folding his laundry (the wrong way), boyish smile tugging at his
lips as he eyed the television screen, said eyes lighting up when he turned to look at Taehyung,
suddenly he felt everything. And it took all that he had to not break down into sobs.
---
Finally, he was done.
He was done crying, his raw cheeks, swollen eyes a sure testament to that. He was done trying,
letting go of all the fight in his body, sinking into the couch in sobering resignation.
For never before had these truths rang clearer than now:
1. He loves me.
2. He can’t be with me.
He drifted into a restless slumber .
---
Afternoon gave way into evening by the time Seokjin tiptoed into the darkened living room, the
sun having already set for the day, only the streetlamps outside the window providing any
semblance of light. He made his way to the couch, kneeling down so that he was eye level with the
sleeping boy. In the dusk he could make out the flutter of Taehyung’s eyelashes against his cheeks,
the wet pout of his lips, the soft tresses falling across his forehead.
He shook the boy’s shoulder as gently as he could to wake him. “Hey,” he whispered. “Wanna go
out and get dinner?” Taehyung stirred in his slumber before blinking his eyes open to Seokjin’s
face mere inches from his own.
“Hi,” he mumbled, a bit disoriented. “What time is it?”

“Almost five,” Seokjin replied. “You wanna go out for dinner? Get out of the apartment for a bit?”
Taehyung shook his head.
“No?” Seokjin chuckled. “We’ve been inside for a while. Don’t you want fresh air?”
“Let’s just stay in,” the boy drawled.
“Still sleepy?”
Taehyung nodded.
“All right,” he relented. “I’ll cook something for us.”
He rose from the ground and migrated to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and eyeing the
groceries they’d purchased earlier that day. A medley of marinated meats, some vegetables they
could sautee on the side. It would be much easier, he surmised, to go out; one being that it was less
of a hassle but two (and most importantly) it was a way to ensure they kept their boundaries. That
they were “good.”
But Taehyung always wins.
He pulled out the necessary ingredients to begin prepping their dinner, laying them out neatly on
the counter and grabbing a cutting board and knife to start chopping the scallions. He could hear
the sound of Taehyung rising from the couch, his footsteps growing louder as he slowly
approached from behind. Seokjin had barely dried his hands off on the kitchen towel when he felt
two arms encircling him, eventually settling around the small of his waist, a warm weight pressed
securely against his back.
“Don’t push me away,” Taehyung mumbled. “Just hear me out.”
He froze on the spot, hands finding the side of the counter and gripping them firmly, heart
pounding wildly as he felt Taehyung intake a shuddering breath.
“I give up. You win, Seokjin. You stubborn ass.” He tightened his grip as if to steady himself, for
his voice trembled terribly as he spoke. “I’m not gonna try anymore. I...I know where you stand
now. And for the longest time I thought I could sway you, but I should’ve known better. You made
up your mind a long time ago. We’re never going to be together, are we?”
Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut, heart twisting painfully as if someone was physically wringing the
muscle, every fiber of his body wanting to scream NO, we’ll make it work somehow, we’ll be
together someday- but nothing escaped from his parted lips.
“All I’m asking,” Taehyung continued, “Is for this weekend. I know it’s stupid and we might regret
it later, but I think I’ll regret it even more if I never get the chance to be with you. ”
He could feel hot tears wetting the back of his shirt.
“So can we?” The boy pleaded, voice smaller than ever. “Just for the rest of our time together this
weekend. E-Even if it’s just for a day or two. Can we be together?”
He wanted to, but not just for the weekend. He wanted to break, to crack, to fall onto his knees, to
forgo the ugly world that bound him upright on his feet. He wanted to love. To love foolishly,
freely. To live not in accordance to plans and schedules and agendas, to duty, tradition, nor
boundaries, but rather by a wild heart. His own.
“A-After this, I-I promise I won’t bother you anymore.” He was full-on sobbing now, choking on
every other syllable. “I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t listen before. I’ll move on,
I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
Silence, as Seokjin’s heart stopped at these words.
“Say something,” Taehyung begged. “Please.”
He turned in his place, letting go of the counter and shifting his body so that the two were finally
face to face, Taehyung’s big wet eyes staring directly into Seokjin’s, arms still wrapped so tightly
around him as if he’d disappear at any moment. He knew his own eyes were glassy, brimming with
his own sorrow, a pain that was sure to follow him till the end of his days. But for now, he wanted
to be happy. Even if it was just for a day or two.
“Okay,” he whispered, brushing Taehyung’s bangs away from his forehead with shaking hands.
“Let’s be together.”
When he leaned in to kiss him, he knew this kind of love was meant for much more. A lifetime of
this; of the softest lips imaginable, warm and sweet and familiar, like what home should feel like.
Chapter End Notes
I am, so, sleepy. Like delirious, I might have to come back and edit this.
Happy Valentine's Day.
I just want to take this opportunity on the holiday of lurve to express my deepest
gratitude for my readers, especially the ones who take the time to leave such
wonderful comments on every chapter. I read everything and take your insight to
heart. Your words are thought provoking, moving, and overall make me want to write
more, write better.
(Also freaky how my updates are aligning with irl. I'm releasing VDay chapter during
actual VDay...same thing happened for New Years and Christmas. FREAKY.)
As usual let me know what you think. Will try to uphold the weekly uploading
schedule but next week is gonna be pretty crazy for me...cross country road trip, ~5
days from coast to coast. So editing/writing will be kinda tough. We'll see.
Limbo
Chapter Notes
Thank you so much for your patience. Enjoy!
They forgot about dinner, Seokjin spinning Taehyung around by the waist so that the boy was now
leaning against the counter, neck craned upwards as he chased Seokjin’s lips in shameless
desperation. Their bodies practically melded into one, Seokjin holding Taehyung so tightly their
curves slotted together like puzzle pieces; chest to chest, hip to hip.
The whole room was burning, as Taehyung gasped in between feverish kisses, hands snaking
upwards into Seokjin’s hair, long fingers running through and grabbing fistfuls of it. He felt
Seokjin readjust his grip from the small of his back to cradle his upper thighs instead, lifting him
onto the counter and earning a small “Oh!” from Taehyung. But he didn’t have time to react further
before Seokjin had eagerly positioned himself between his legs, pressing forward with
uncharacteristic ferocity, as if he’d been wandering in a desert and he’d finally found the oasis.
As if he were hungry. Starving.
They lost track of time in that quiet little kitchen, movements languid and unhurried as if they had
the rest of their lives to love one another; no obligations, no responsibilities. Reality ceased to exist
and dreams burst into life.
He missed Seokjin so much. Missed holding him, touching him. Missed his broad shoulders, his
tiny waist. Missed feeling as if he belonged to him and only him. He broke away for a moment to
gather himself together, burying his face in the crook of Seokjin’s neck, breathing in the familiar
scent of laundry and pine, every sensation unbelievable, overwhelming. A violent tremble coursed
through his body, Seokjin peering down in concern only to spot fresh pools swimming in
Taehyung’s eyes.
“Why?” He questioned, voice strained with worry as he hastily wiped away the tears with his
thumbs. “Don’t,” he begged, pressing their foreheads together.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, squeezing his eyes shut and mustering a chuckle. To which Seokjin
answered with another kiss, this time gentle and tender, Taehyung shivering upon contact, legs
wrapping loosely around Seokjin’s waist, hands reaching to frame his cheeks.
It was then that the water on the stovetop bubbled to a boil, Seokjin peeling away as if to tend to it,
Taehyung reeling him back with a defiant shake of the head. He looked like a baby, eyes wide and
pouty lipped. “I’m not hungry anymore,” he spoke in a small voice.
“You sure?”
He nodded wordlessly, gaze piercing and zeroed in on Seokjin.
Somehow he knew what he meant without having to ask.
In one deft motion he switched off the burner and scooped Taehyung off of the counter, the boy
letting out a gleeful giggle upon being lifted in the air, Seokjin carefully balancing the two of them
as he steered towards the bedroom, Taehyung distracting him with butterfly kisses all over his face.
With a soft thud he plopped him onto the bed, seconds later adding his own weight onto the
mattress, looming over his smaller frame. They wasted no time in resuming where they’d left off,
Taehyung growing with aggression in the darkened room, tongue licking, lip pulling, little noises
peppered in between, all of it leaving Seokjin incredibly flustered. In the dim light streaming in
from the window he could see a pretty pink flushed across Taehyung’s skin, his whole body piping
hot, an undeniable hardness wedged against his thigh.
He trailed down the length of his neck, lips wet against every nook, every crevice, lingering at the
dip of his collarbone before moving down to his chest, his stomach, Seokjin pushing up the fabric
of his shirt to pay homage to his cute tummy. He could feel Taehyung tense with anticipation as he
shifted lower, eventually pausing at his waistband and looking up, the two locking eyes through a
cloud of lust, Taehyung nodding for Seokjin to proceed.
It felt like he was swimming through stars, everything around him moving slow and surreal, albeit
his heart leaping to his throat, his mind racing a mile a minute. This is happening, he swallowed
thickly, hesitating for a beat before palming at the bulge of Taehyung’s sweatpants, stroking the
length of it up and down, marveling at the impressive size of it, the boy shuddering under his
torturous touch. Without warning Seokjin leaned down, mouthing at it through the fabric and
causing Taehyung to jerk violently upwards. “You-” he managed breathlessly, fists curling into the
sheets underneath him.
“I what?” Seokjin smiled, fingers toying with the hem of his waistband.
“Just...just do it, please.”
If Seokjin had as much finesse as he was pretending to have he would’ve kept teasing, kept edging
him on, but he too was quickly running out of patience. With an untying of the drawstring and a
sharp tug downwards Taehyung was finally exposed, taut against his belly, precum leaking.
Seokjin could feel a tightness growing in his own pants, but it was something he’d have to deal
with later. Right now, he could only see Taehyung; hard, unraveled, and ready for him.
God knows how long he’d fantasized about this very moment, of Taehyung full in his mouth, body
slicked with sweat, chest heaving and panting just for him...how many times he’d jerked off to the
very thought, lonely in his room, skin cold and untouched. But here he was, hovering over the boy
on the bed, frozen in his place as if he’d never seen a dick before.
He let out a shaky breath before finally taking hold of it, the weight of it heavy in his palm, hand
pumping him once, then twice, Taehyung whimpering upon the very moment of contact. Then, a
tad more daring, he leaned down to lick a long stripe from the base to the head, tasting the salt of
him and lapping it hungrily. The room was pindrop silent, their blood pumping with anticipation,
pulses pounding like tiny war drums. The next thing Taehyung knew the warmth of Seokjin’s
mouth was enveloping him, soft lips gliding across oversensitive skin. Involuntarily he arched his
back off of the mattress, fucking into Seokjin’s mouth wihout meaning to. His body wouldn’t listen
to him; it was on fire.
He moved gradually at first before finding a nice rhythm and quickening the pace, bobbing up and
down, licking and sucking, ravenous with a desire to make him feel good. He could see Taehyung
clamping down on his own lips and biting back a moan, arm splayed across his face and hiding it
from view, nevertheless tiny noises escaping, heady and full of want. Seokjin’s own cock throbbed
painfully against his thigh. He swirled his tongue over the crown and earned another stifled cry,
Seokjin eventually reaching up to move Taehyung’s arm off to the side.
“It’s okay,” he murmured against his cock. “I wanna hear you.”
“Oka-” Taehyung gasped in response before Seokjin sank down once more, this time his breath
hitching and bleeding into a guttural groan.
He was taking him deep now, the head of his erection hitting the back his throat, mouth full and
tears stinging but it all felt so good; seeing Taehyung undone felt so good, like Heaven. I could
come untouched at this point, Seokjin thought to himself as Taehyung whined aloud, lithe body
rolling in waves, long neck exposed and begging for kisses. He lifted said neck off of the bed so
that the two locked in a gaze, dark eyes through damp lashes, beads of sweat rolling down
Taehyung’s temple, Seokjin’s usually angelic face more like that of the devil. It was all it took, just
one shared look before Taehyung was coming into him, Seokjin taking it all and swallowing every
last drop.
With shallow breaths Seokjin crawled back over Taehyung’s frame, marking a steady trail
upwards, first his stomach, second his neck, third his lips, the two sharing a chaste kiss, then
blooming into something deeper, Taehyung tasting himself bitter on Seokjin’s tongue. It should’ve
been gross, but somehow it was the sexiest thing ever and he could’ve gotten hard again if he
fixated on it any longer.
They lay side by side in a tangled mess, Seokjin running his hands through Taehyung’s mussed
hair, making out slow and unrushed, his own groin still aching with want but again, he’d take care
of it later. That is, until he felt Taehyung’s fingers loosen their grip from the collar of his shirt and
slide down to the front of his pants instead, shy and lingering and tentative.
It’s his first time, Seokjin suddenly remembered. “It’s okay,” he laughed gently, but was quickly
cut off when Taehyung slipped his hand beneath his underwear, wrapping around his leaking
member and stroking it lazy and sure, like a fucking pro. It wasn’t long before he was gasping into
Taehyung’s mouth and coming into his hand.
After cleaning themselves off with a couple of towels they returned promptly to one another’s
arms, everything around them soft and lush, the air in the room warm but nothing compared to the
feeling of being wrapped up in one another.
It was the way Seokjin enclosed around him, strong and fortress-like, holding him as if he were
gold, as if he was the only damn thing that mattered. With a satisfied sigh he buried his face into
his chest, grinning to himself like an idiot in love. (Not like. He was. )
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Seokjin whispered into his hair.
A pause, as he contemplated whether or not to tell him the truth. Lots and lots and lots of porn, he
chuckled to himself. And boy, have I been lonely. But all of it sounded far too crass and definitely
uncool. A flash of insecurity fell over him as he realized he wouldn’t have to ask Seokjin the same
question; of course he’d learned to do that. This wasn’t his first time. Far from it, perhaps.
But he pushed such disheartening thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to focus on the present
instead, at how good it felt to be touched, held, cherished. He nuzzled further against Seokjin’s
beating heart. “Primal instinct,” he finally answered.
A hearty laugh, followed by a sweet kiss at the top of his head.
“What do you want to do?” Seokjin spoke softly. “Just lay here and make out like horny
teenagers?”
To which Taehyung nodded, prompting another endeared chuckle from Seokjin. “Not that I’d
mind, of course,” he followed.
“Actually.” Taehyung was peeling away from their embrace, laying his head on a pillow so that the
two were eye to eye. For a moment he did nothing but stare, corners of his lips tugging upwards
into a smile. Seokjin blinked back with a rather oblivious expression, heart aflutter under the
intense gaze.
“What?”
Taehyung cleared his throat. “When you were dating...did you ever have a bucket list?”
He mulled over the question; not because he didn’t know the answer, but rather reflecting on the
nature of his past relationship. Did it ever actually feel like dating? In the time they’d spent
together, aside from rotating between some glitzy restaurants and bouncing from one apartment to
the other, they hadn’t bothered to do much else. The idea of a bucket list was almost laughable.
“No. Not really.”
Taehyung nibbled on his lip. “Is it stupid that I have one?”
“No,” Seokjin shook his head. “Not at all.” Because when it came to Taehyung, nothing was funny
and everything mattered.
When it came to Taehyung, it was an endless stream of dreams and fantasies, one that would be
impossible to fit into a weekend, let alone a lifetime. He wanted everything and anything with him.
And as if reading his mind, Taehyung echoed much of the same sentiment. “There’s so many
things I want to do with you,” he whispered, gaze shifting down from Seokjin’s eyes to a
nondescript speck on his chest. “It’s almost overwhelming.”
“Well name one, for starters,” he encouraged, sneaking in a peck, Taehyung smiling into it.
“It’s stupid-”
“Stop staying that.”
“-But I wanna go to Namsan.”
Seokjin widened his eyes. “Namsan Tower?”
“Yeah. Every couple does it. I feel kinda left out.”
“Well we can’t let that happen, can we?”
---
Taking a cab would’ve been far quicker, but they were in no rush; if anything they wished that the
world would stop spinning on its axis, that time would slow just a bit for them, that the universe
would comply to their wishes, for their desires weren’t too lofty but simple and earnest; they just
wanted to be together. They stood underneath the bus awning, shivering in their coats and huddled
together for warmth until the bus squeaked to an arrival, the duo climbing on and tapping their
cards before clambering towards the very back seats.
With Seokjin propped against the right seat window and Taehyung leaning against his shoulder,
they watched the city lights pass in silence, observed the reds and golds dance across the glass
window, their hands intertwined shyly somewhere in the middle. The inside of the bus glowed a
demure clementine, the heater humming steadily from the front vents, the driver and the other
passengers focused on the road ahead and paying no attention to the two canoodling behind them.
The vehicle began on an uphill incline, on winding roads lined with dark trees, glimpses of the
crystalline cityscape visible between sparse branches. Eventually it pulled to a stop at the bottom of
the tower, the remaining passengers spilling out one by one, Seokjin and Taehyung being the last
to set foot on the pavement.
He remembered a time - was it two springs ago? That he and some of the other boys also ventured
here after a round of drinks, per Yoongi’s drunken request. How lonely the city felt without
Taehyung beside him. How funny, that the whole world could shift because of one person alone.
He trailed several steps behind an animated Taehyung, smiling to himself as they walked onto an
outdoor terrace with the glittering skyline laid out before them, vast and endless, sapphires and
diamonds. The crowds were thin that night, a number of couples here and there, small clusters of
families calmly enjoying the view, Taehyung shattering the quiet and bursting onto the scene with
an overjoyed “whoop!”
“LOOK AT THIS!” He bellowed, careening towards the railing to get a better glimpse of it all. In
his twenty-some years in Seoul he’d never gotten the chance to pay a visit to the iconic landmark;
meanwhile it was Seokjin’s third, maybe fourth trip to the observation deck.
But never had he seen the city like this before.
They scoped out a less crowded section of the deck, shrouded in shadows and away from prying
eyes, the view slightly obstructed but second in priority. With Taehyung standing closest to the
railing, Seokjin hovered close behind him, arms wrapped firmly around his torso, head dipping
down to whisper into his ear.
“You cold?” Seokjin murmured as a slight breeze blew past them.
“Mmm,” he hummed in response, prompting the taller boy to hold him even tighter.
They spent a long time doing absolutely nothing, swaying back and forth to an imaginary song,
Taehyung often twisting his head around to catch kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his lips. They tried
looking for familiar buildings; their old high school, their families’ homes, all of their friends’
apartments, but with no success. Only the tallest buildings stood out in the sea of lights.
They watched in comfortable silence as a couple nearby fussed over a newly purchased package,
prying open the plastic casing and pulling out a pair of pink, heart shaped locks. The entire railing
was covered in similar designs, plus a medley of other colors and shapes. They observed the girl
and the boy click said locks into place on top of a formidable pile, then take a selfie — or two, no
three, to commemorate the moment.
“You wanna do that too?”
Taehyung shook his head fervently.
“No?” Seokjin laughed. “But everyone else is doing it.”
“I heard a rumor that if you do it, you’re cursed. Your relationship is doomed.”
“That’s insane. So you’re saying all of the couples that did it are gonna break up?”
“Well, some of them!” Taehyung protested. “Enough to make me not want to risk it.”
What he was really saying was this: he wanted them to be together forever. Even if “forever” had
never been theirs to begin with.
[ ♪ Lost Dreams ]
His tone suddenly shifted from joking to serious. “You know we came here without you once.”
Taehyung turned to look at him.
“When?”
“Freshman year,” Seokjin clarified. “When we were still talking…normally. Before I went to visit
you in Daegu. Yoongi and Hobi came up to Seoul to visit one weekend, but I think you were busy
so you didn’t come. I remember asking them, ‘Where’s Taehyung?’ and feeling so annoyed.” A
laugh. “I mean, we still had fun. It was good seeing them. But at the end of the night we somehow
ended up here and-” He pointed with his chin towards an even more secluded corner of the terrace.
“-I stood there and moped. Like a brat, I swear. You should’ve seen it. I missed you so badly.”
Taehyung broke into a grin at the retelling of his story. “Can you show me what face you were
making?”
To which Seokjin pulled his lips down in an exaggerated frown. “You ever see a blobfish?” He
quipped. “Like that.”
They spent a good minute cackling at the mental image before simmering down.
“I remember this vaguely, actually. I remember seeing the pictures in the group chat and feeling
jealous as hell. You never told me you felt this way though.”
“I should’ve told you.”
“Better late than never.”
“Jimin noticed though,” Seokjin reminisced. “At the time I hadn’t even told him that I liked you.
But I guess I was too obvious.”
“He notices everything,” Taehyung nodded. “And only brings up half of what he knows to us.”
“It’s scary.” He wondered if Jimin ever felt overwhelmed by too much information. “Anyway. It
was my first time being apart from you. It was really hard to get used to.”
“Did it ever get easier?” Taehyung whispered, eyes following a plane gliding through the clouds
overhead. Nothing felt real, everything a dream.
“Never.”
Because here I am with you, and I’m missing you already.
With the gentle rustle of fabric Taehyung shifted in his arms so that the two were face to face.
“Me too,” he smiled. “I don’t think it ever will.”

He loved Seokjin so much.
Two years ago, by a warm lake of Daegu under a veil of cherry blossoms, Seokjin had asked him
why, and he’d tried to find a reason but to no avail. He figured perhaps with the passage of time his
answer would become clearer, but if anything the harder he loved, the more difficult it was to
explain it. He knew what he liked about him. Liked the way Seokjin looked at him every time he
waited for an answer, eyes slightly raised, lips upturned at the corners in a semblance of
amusement. He liked Seokjin’s eyebrows, liked running his thumb through them. Liked his lips,
liked kissing them. Liked that Seokjin had a tough time making decisions, because it meant that he
would always think things through meticulously. Weigh all of the options, the good and the bad
and everything in between. In a world so rushed and reckless, so harried and careless, what kind of
an angel remained ever so careful?
He liked that Seokjin wasn’t great at expressing himself. That sweet words didn’t quite roll off his
tongue but rather he held onto them like little treasures, only choosing to give them away at the
right time, the right place. So when Seokjin said that he loved him, Taehyung knew that he meant
it.
The scenery, the passerbys, all of it was forgotten as they looked at one another, cheeks pink and
noses red, February wind biting, the two trembling under its spell. Standing on his tiptoes
Taehyung leaned forward, pressing their lips together with a certain resolve, Seokjin closing his
eyes and kissing him back. The way the curves of their mouths fitted together, like they were
meant to be. Tongues soft, breaths warm, noses touching.
“You’re shivering,” Taehyung mumbled. Seokjin got cold easily; he’d always been this way.
Taehyung wanted to protect him forever, like a fire to a furnace.
“So are you.”
Another kiss before Taehyung broke away, this time wearing his trademark mischievous smile.
“What,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes, albeit with a smirk.
“I know somewhere where we can get warmed up.”
“Well what are we waiting for? Lead the way.”

Chapter End Notes
Here is what a blobfish looks like.
ALSO. That line: "Because here I am with you, and I’m missing you already." You
recognize this from anywhere? (Hint: it was used in a previous scene in this fic.)
Brownie points to anyone who can remember heheheh.
Once again, thank you for your patience. Since my last chapter I've moved cross
country (3000+ miles) and have settled down in my new home. I've been desperately
applying for jobs in the last couple of days and everything else has been put on the
back burner, please understand. :) And wish me luck! Haha.
As always, please do let me know your thoughts on this chapter. I love reading the
comments so much, y'all have no idea. And it doesn't need to be anything eloquent
whatsoever. Even if it's just you screaming, it makes me happy.
All my love and gratitude!

Limbo
Chapter Notes
Hmm as you guys can see I'm updating more on a bi-weekly basis now. Trying to get
my real life together and it's time consuming. But I think yeah, twice a month is a
realistic schedule I can commit to for this fic. As this story progresses the content
becomes increasingly difficult to edit and I am definitely adding in new scenes as I go.
In short, thanks so much for your patience. :) Please also review tags before reading
this chapter.
They waited in the cold for another bus that would take them downhill, Seokjin not knowing the
destination but faithfully following Taehyung’s lead. A blur of lights passed them as they traversed
through the streets of Seoul, reds and blues and golds, the two of them watching the colors pass in
quiet, hands interlaced together, Seokjin’s thumb running over the hills and valleys of Taehyung’s
knuckles.
Their journey merited a transfer onto the subway, the rumbling monstrosity packed with
weekenders and partygoers, the duo unable to find a seat and opting to lean against the door
instead. Despite the incessant hum of chatter surrounding them, the stale and stuffy air, a sea of
shoulders jostling to and fro, something about being on that train with Taehyung pressed to his
chest felt sacred. Neither of them spoke during the entirety of the ride, Seokjin with his back
against the metal, Taehyung’s head resting just underneath his chin. They could feel each other
breathing, chests rising and falling in different rhythms at first, then eventually in unison.
If presented with the choice of returning to reality or staying on that train forever, he would’ve
picked the latter.
They slowed to a stop at Itaewon station, Taehyung lifting his cheek from his chest to give him an
assuring nod. Following a small flood of passengers they stepped out onto the platform, taking the
escalator to street level, brisk winter air piercing their skin, Taehyung reaching for Seokjin’s hand
again and forging forward with certainty.
Never in a million years did Seokjin think he’d be standing in front of another club again.
He stood before the “Queen” in a muddled state of fear and awe, the curbside of said establishment
frenzied and loud, a long line of patrons waiting for their turn to enter. His eyes did a swift scan of
the clientele milling in and out of the dark doors, noting the unmistakable rainbow of the neon sign
and the glaringly obvious hint that most of the customers were in fact, men.
“Is...is this a gay club?”
To which Taehyung turned to him, beaming. “Yeap.”
A sharp intake of breath as he digested the sight of it. Going to a “regular” club was daunting
enough. But this — this was unchartered territory. He felt a jolt of adrenaline course through him
as Taehyung gave a comforting squeeze of his hand, like lightning running wild through his veins.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Seokjin shook his head. “No. I want to.”
The interior looked like any other club; dark and dingy, strobelights chaotic and unfocused, bass
pounding so heavily the walls and the ground shook with it. But once they checked their coats and
began weaving their way onto the dance floor, he quickly saw that it was, upon closer examination,
very different. Men dancing with men, unabashedly, shamelessly, beautifully. So many gorgeous
fucking men and here he was, hands interlaced with the prettiest one. Despite the bitter cold
outside the heat in the room was quickly rising, the back of Seokjin’s shirt starting to stick to his
skin. The two squeezed their way through the crowd to the bar, where a muscular bartender hurried
from one end to the other, taking orders and pouring liquor without a moment to breathe.
“WE’RE ENGAGED!” Taehyung yelled over the music, leaning over the counter and raising his
and Seokjin’s clasped hands in a show of victory.
“NO WAY!” the bartender cracked a huge grin. “CONGRATULATIONS!” Seokjin scrunched his
nose in curiosity, trying to disguise the smile tugging at his lips. Did Taehyung even know this guy?
“JUST NOW!” Taehyung bragged, latching onto Seokjin’s arm. “At Namsan! He proposed!”
“GOOD ON YOU,” the bartender clapped Seokjin on the shoulder. “Shots on me, all three of us!
What do you want?”
“Fireball would be nice,” Seokjin interjected, tightening his grip on Taehyung’s hand.
“Coming right up,” the man turned around, locating a large bottle and setting three empty glasses
on the bar.
They slung the fiery shots back, letting out a hiss as the alcohol scorched their throats on the way
down.
“GO HAVE FUN!” The bartender urged them, shooing them away from the bar.
“WE’LL BE BACK!” Taehyung promised, offering a small wave before pulling Seokjin back onto
the dancefloor.
One shot hardly made a dent on Seokjin but was a huge blow to Taehyung’s sobriety, the boy
already unraveled by the time they wiggled to the center of the crowd. “I love this song,” he threw
his head back laughing, arms naturally looping around Seokjin’s neck.
“Did you know that guy?” Seokjin leaned in to Taehyung’s ear.
“NO!” Taehyung cackled. “I saw someone do it last time so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“You crazy bastard,” Seokjin murmured, pressing his forehead to his as they shimmied closer,
Seokjin’s hands snaking around Taehyung’s lower back and pulling him in.
“A crazy bastard you just proposed to.”
“Well maybe I’m crazy too,” Seokjin grinned before closing the gap between them.
It was intoxicating, enthralling, exhilarating to kiss him in a sea of people, their backs occasionally
bumping into that of their neighbors but no one protesting, no one gawking, no one stopping them
from their public displays of affection. Their curves melted perfectly together, Taehyung’s hands
tangling into his jet black hair, Seokjin’s reaching up to cup his jaw, tongues sliding into each
others’ mouths; lazy licks, warm and slow. He could feel a groan of pleasure reverberating from
the back of Taehyung’s throat as they deepened the kiss, the beat of the song quickening in time
with their heartbeats.
Of all places to feel free.
He broke away for a moment to get a good look at him, to memorize every little bit of him; from
the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin to the impressive length of his lower lashes. In the most
lovesick of ways he pushed the hair off of Taehyung’s forehead, leaning in to steal a kiss on his
nose, his cheek, Taehyung’s eyes fluttering to a close, shy giggles escaping from his lips.
“I’ve never seen you dance before,” he spoke against Seokjin’s ear.
Seokjin laughed over the bass. “I usually don’t.”
“You should do it more often,” he smiled before nibbling on his earlobe. “It’s sexy as hell.”
And he couldn’t explain why in that very instant he suddenly became very aware of the time. How
it was almost the end of Saturday night, midnight fast approaching, which only meant Sunday was
coming. And the end of Sunday meant the end of the weekend, and on Monday, whenever
Taehyung’s train was bound to leave, all of this would be over. How quickly one could fall from
the top of the world to the very bottom of it. He felt petrified in his place; scared of tomorrow,
dreading his future, breathing panicked and increasingly difficult. With all of his willpower he
deplored himself to focus on the present; of Taehyung tucked in his arms, Taehyung’s lips on his
skin, Taehyung’s scent all around him, but it only made him keenly aware of what his future would
look like. Taehyung NOT in his arms, Taehyung far away, Taehyung never to be his again.
As if on reflex Seokjin reeled him in tighter, so much so that it was hard to breathe for the both of
them, burying his face into the crook of his neck, Taehyung in turn tightening his grip around his
waist, the weight of Seokjin’s body heavy against his. And there under the lights, in a cloud of
haze and smoke came a small but certain shift in the air; Seokjin was quieter than he should’ve
been.
“You okay?”
Taehyung saw it in his eyes as he pulled away. Longing. Years and years of it; years that had
already passed and years that had yet to come.
“You wanna go home?” He asked, his whole being set afire under Seokjin’s gaze.
He answered with a kiss. “Please,” he murmured into his lips. “Before I lose my mind.”
Before I lose you.
---
They were met with rain the minute they stepped outside, torrential downpours transforming the
city’s gutters into little rivers. “NO!” Taehyung yelled, bolting dramatically back under the awning
of the club’s entrance, hair sopping wet from just seconds of exposure.
“Can’t we wait inside and call a car?” Seokjin asked.
“My phone’s dead.”
“Shit. And I still don’t have signal.”
“Fuck.”
“Let’s just try and get a cab as quick as we can and make a run for it?”
Together they took a readying breath before sprinting into the storm, splashing through puddles
and crossing over to the main road, watching one car after another pass them by, civilian vehicles
and occupied taxis until they finally spotted a singular vacant cab approaching in the distance, the
two rushing forward to claim it before any of the other clubgoers could.
They dove into the backseat of the car, rainwater dripping onto the leather, their clothes soaked
through and through. Seokjin hastily gave the driver his apartment address. “AHJUSSI!” Taehyung
cried sweetly. “Can you turn up the heat and the music? As loud as possible, please?”
“Sure,” the man obliged, cranking both the vents and the radio to full blast.
Their giggles were barely audible as Taehyung threw himself on top of Seokjin, hastily peeling off
his sopping wet coat and tossing it to the floor, lips meeting messily in the middle, giddy, sloppy
kisses, short breaths as they lay flat on the seats, long legs bunched against the car door.
“Tae, wait,” Seokjin cackled. “We’re going to break this fucking car-”
“You’re rich, you can pay for it,” Taehyung jested without missing a beat. Seokjin’s stomach hurt
from laughing.
The driver slowed to a halt in front of Seokjin’s complex, music still blaring obnoxiously through
the speakers, the car now hot and thick with the scent of rain. Rising from the backseat with a look
of guilt across their faces, they paid their fare then scurried out of the vehicle, clutching onto one
another as they doubled over in hysterics.
“Do you think he-he heard us,” Taehyung wheezed, stumbling after Seokjin through the front
doors.
“God, I hope not.”
The two exercised admirable self control as they entered the building’s elevator, bowing politely to
the ahjumma already situated inside, Seokjin recognizing her as his grumpy, somewhat
judgemental next door neighbor. Pure silence as the machine whirred upwards, past the fifth, sixth,
seventh, eventually slowing to a halt at the eighth floor. Allowing the older woman to step off first,
they trailed a good distance behind her, watching as she unlocked her own door and disappeared
into her unit, not without shooting the pair a look of disdain.
But all of said restraint flew out the window the moment they made it into their own apartment,
Taehyung slamming Seokjin against the door so that it shut with a resounding “BANG,” hands
reaching for the collar of the boy’s coat so he could get the damn thing off as fast as he could.
---
Neither bothered to turn on the lights, instead focused solely on undressing: lips locked, hands
busy peeling away cumbersome layers. Coats dropped to the ground with a thud, feet stumbled
over said piles as they blindly maneuvered through the hallway, Taehyung leaping from his place
on the ground to wrap his legs around Seokjin’s waist, Seokjin’s arms winding around the boy’s
hips and holding him in place.
They blundered into the bedroom, bumping painfully into the doorframe in the process but neither
giving a damn, too engrossed in the prospect of making love, tongues licking into the other’s
mouth, tasting traces of cinnamon from the Fireball they’d one-shotted earlier. Plopping Taehyung
onto the bed and earning a small “Ah!”, he tugged hastily at the hem of his shirt, letting out a
frustrated groan (more like a growl) as the shirt got stuck just under Taehyung’s shoulders. After
fighting with the fabric for some he finally pried it off of his frame, dropping it onto the carpet
with a triumphant flutter.
In a wild mess of limbs and fabric they continued to remove articles of clothing, Seokjin wrestling
his own shirt off of his head, Taehyung’s fingers fumbling with his belt and slipping it out of its
loops. He’d only just tossed the item to the ground when Seokjin returned full force, crawling over
Taehyung’s body and lowering himself so that their lips met once again, kisses so deep, so needy
that the boy was practically sinking into the bed to allow for better access.
“Yah, Kim Seokjin,” he commanded.
“Yeah?”
“Get these jeans off of me, damnit.”
To which Seokjin chuckled into his collarbone, teasing him there with kisses, leisurely and
torturous. “Be patient for me, won’t you?” He coaxed before shifting down to his chest,
Taehyung’s heartbeat protesting against his ribcage.
“Hurry, for fuck’s-”
“Well EXCUSE me? How RUDE?” Seokjin gasped in mock offense, lifting his head indignantly
from Taehyung’s stomach.
“JIN, I swear to GOD-”
With a devilish laugh he wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s torso, scooping his back ever so
slightly off of the sheets and pressing kisses to his tummy.
“Sorry,” he mumbled against heated skin, trailing lower and lower until he reached the waistband
of his jeans.
With slow hands he traced across the curve of Taehyung’s thighs, fingers eventually reaching his
clothed bulge and gripping it through the denim. A hiss and a mewl escaped from Taehyung’s lips,
Seokjin relishing in the small sounds before finally undoing the zipper and yanking the jeans
down, the grey of his underwear already stained with precum.
“Jin,” he moaned again, this time softer.
“Mm?”
“I’m ready,” he managed through shallow spurts. “I’m ready, I swear.”
They’d never gone this far before; were never afforded the opportunity, never dared to push the
limits this recklessly. Feigning a sense of calm, he hoped that Taehyung wouldn’t notice how his
hands trembled as he slipped the underwear past his hips, wiggling it off of his legs and discarding
it to the side. And in just one moment the world as he knew it had shifted, Taehyung now
completely naked in front of him, every fiber, every muscle of his being screaming for Seokjin to
take over.
“Put your head on those pillows,” he whispered, Taehyung obliging and scooting further back,
Seokjin shifting forward until he’d positioned himself between his legs, pressing his palms to his
inner thighs and pushing them the slightest bit apart. “I’m gonna prep you, okay?”
A small nod from Taehyung, timid and shy but wholly trusting.
It was in that moment that he realized something rather silly; he himself remained half-dressed, his
own jeans still snug around his waist.
Why am I so scared? He released a shaky exhale, willing his pulse to slow to normalcy. The room
was pitch dark, save for a sliver of city light seeping in through the windows. It’s Taehyung.
But precisely because it was Taehyung.

How long he’d waited for this moment; fantasizing about it but never believing it would come to
fruition. Yet there they were on Seokjin’s own bed, so close to dreams blooming into reality, a pair
of tiger eyes staring back at him, drinking in the sight of him as if he were the most beautiful thing
on Earth.
The feeling was overwhelming; that he didn’t deserve him.
Taehyung was beautiful, inside and out. Willing, giving, practically begging. But it would also be
his very first time, a turning point bearing a crushing finality, a milestone that no one else would be
able to claim ever again. Seokjin would be it. When he himself lost his virginity a little over a year
ago he’d thought nothing of it; a papercut to the heart at best. But with the passage of time he
noticed that the wound had begun to fester, to scar. He didn’t want the same for Taehyung. He
didn’t want him to regret the same way he did.
He says that he’s ready.
But is he really?
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
It was immediate, the way Taehyung’s features softened upon spotting the fear in Seokjin’s eyes.
“I promise you, I’m not as reckless as you think,” he whispered, easing up until the two sat face to
face. “I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember.”
To which Seokjin swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “But-”
“It has to be you,” Taehyung spoke with ferocity, curling a gentle hand around the back of his neck
and bringing him close, lips ghosting. “It can only be you.”
A deep shuddering breath, as Seokjin pressed a kiss, then two, three into the curve of Taehyung’s
mouth, slow and tender, a promise, a vow.
“I need you to know then, that I love you.”
Taehyung smiled against his lips. “I already know, stupid.”
“Okay. Good.”
With Taehyung’s assistance he freed the top button of his jeans, unzipping the fly and kicking the
pants haphazardly to the ground. “I’ll get those for you,” Taehyung offered, urging Seokjin to lay
on his back as he grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled downward, his erection
springing free, cool air on exposed skin. Without the slightest hesitation Taehyung took hold of it
in his hands, Seokjin gasping in surprise upon contact, Taehyung giving it a couple of pumps for
good measure before taking him into his mouth.
He lapped up the precum, tasting the salt on his tongue, teasing the head with coy licks and sucks.
A long release sounded from Seokjin, deep and animalistic, his head rolling back onto the pillow as
Taehyung sank deeper down, wet warmth eventually enclosing his entire length.
“Fuck, Tae.”
He began moving, agonizingly slow at first, then picking up the pace, hands roaming from
Seokjin’s thighs to the pretty dips of his waist, caressing him as his body heaved with bliss. He
could feel Seokjin’s fingers tangle into his rain-soaked hair as his cock hit the back of his throat.
“Jesus-”
But Taehyung resumed without mercy despite the light gagging, fueled by the melody of Seokjin’s
heady whimpers, his own groin throbbing painfully with want.
“Tae, wait. Stop.”
He lifted his head and licked his lips, their eyes meeting as Taehyung furrowed his brow in
confusion, as Seokjin peered at him through wet lashes, wrecked.
“Come here for a sec.”

Pushing himself up from his kneeling position, he crawled forward until he was hovering over
Seokjin, who brought him down so that their lips met messily in the middle.
“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come,” he murmured, wincing as their erections brushed against
one another. “And I don’t think we’re finished just yet.”
To which Taehyung giggled, laying kitten kisses in the crook of his neck. “Ready whenever you
are, tiger.”
“I’m ready.”
With less grace than he would’ve liked they quickly switched places; Taehyung back against the
headboard, Seokjin kneeling in the center of the bed and reaching over to his nightstand drawer,
fumbling through nondescript items until he found what he needed; a bottle of lube and a box of
condoms.
“Might feel a bit funny at first,” Seokjin warned as he warmed the lube within his hands.
“Try me,” the boy smirked.
And he did. Tentatively, carefully teasing the entrance then pressing in slow, Taehyung tightening
around him with a breathy groan.
“Feels funny, right?”
“Feels good.”
He took the cue to add a second digit, easing in just as gently, leaning down for more kisses, chaste
and desperate.
“One more?”
A nod.
With the third finger he began moving about ever so subtly, stretching his hole in preparation,
Taehyung quivering under the motion.
“Ready?”
“Been ready.”
It was a moment Seokjin felt he didn’t deserve but knew that if it was presented to him, he’d have
to make every second count. The most pleasurable, most gratifying experience he could ever offer.
He wanted to give Taehyung the fucking world.
One more kiss to the forehead, another on the mouth as Taehyung chased his lips. And then he was
pressing the tip in, achingly slow, bit by bit, Taehyung swallowing him until he emitted a tiny yelp
of pain.
“Are you okay?” Seokjin paused immediately, worry straining his voice. “Does it hurt?”
He merely nodded, teeth clamping down on his lip.
“What do you mean? It hurts?” He pressed, panicking.
“K-Keep going-”
“Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
“I’ll kill you if you stop.”
He pushed in even further, walls clenching tightly around him as if in protest. It didn’t help that he
was well endowed and that Taehyung was virgin tight. They gasped in unison as Seokjin finally
bottomed out, corners of Taehyung’s eyes prickling, a sheepish smile blooming on his face.
“You good?”
A nod, a sloppy kiss.
He began rocking back and forth at a gentle pace, pressing down so that the two were chest to
chest, thumb wiping away at the boy’s cheek, lip-locked, breaths mingled. They didn’t stop kissing
even as he picked up the momentum and intensity, Taehyung’s legs wrapping desperately around
his waist for support.
“You’re so sexy, what the fuck,” Seokjin muttered, Taehyung attempting a response but letting out
a loud sob instead, his cries intensifying as he thrust harder and harder, the obscene sound of sex
and slick filling the room, his cock eventually hitting Taehyung’s prostate, sending waves of
pleasure through the boy’s body and prompting him to bite into Seokjin’s shoulder.
“AH!” Seokjin yelled, cackling in surprise.
“Jin, I’m close, I’m going to-”
He looked down at Taehyung’s leaking cock and grabbed a hold of it, pumping it generously as he
continued to thrust, the boy cumming just seconds later all over his hand and onto his own
stomach, euphoria flooding his senses in a way he hadn’t known possible. Seokjin had been
exercising a great deal of endurance but he too felt that he could burst at any moment.
“I’m close too,” he managed between labored breathing.
“Mmm.”
A powerful cry from his lungs as he finally released, breath hitching in his throat as his body
reduced to putty. They were both a panting, heaving wreck, completely worn out, sweat dripping
from their brows, trickling down their honey skin, a pool of cum resting on Taehyung’s tummy.
But once Seokjin pulled out and discarded the soiled condom to the side, he didn’t care for the
mess at all, collapsing onto Taehyung, cum smearing between their dampened skin.
The boy beneath him was giggling, a gorgeous flush across his cheeks, completely blissed out but
so tired, so happy.
“My baby,” Taehyung whispered, catching Seokjin off guard. “My love.”
He wrapped his arms tightly around Seokjin’s neck, kissing the valleys of it fervently, sucking at
delicate skin to leave his mark after all was said and done. They lay there in the dark, Seokjin on
top of Taehyung like a deadweight, face buried against Taehyung’s cheek, the room absolutely still
save for their heavy breathing.
“I love you,” Taehyung whispered into his collarbone.
It was Seokjin’s first time making love, too.
---
“Let’s get you cleaned up, mmm?”
“Are you suggesting we shower together?” Taehyung waggled his eyebrows, still horny as ever.
Seokjin shook his head with a chuckle, rising from the bed to find a spare towel in the closet. “Or
even better-” He leaned forward to wipe away at Taehyung’s mess. “Maybe a bath?”
An eager nod. “Okay.”
“You stay right here, I’ll get the tub going.”
He disappeared out of the room, leaving the door ajar and Taehyung alone on the bed. Moments
later, the sound of water hitting the bathtub floor.
Laying in the middle of Seokjin’s mattress, wrapping himself in the boy’s blankets and sheets, he
squeezed his eyes shut sporting the stupidest, silliest smile, breathing in the collective scent of both
himself and Seokjin, the smell of sex, lavender and pine, rain rising.
Minutes later, a call from the bathroom. “It’s ready!”
He walked over in all of his unabashed, glorious nakedness, entering just as Seokjin was lowering
himself carefully into the steaming water.
“Come here,” Seokjin murmured, extending a hand to Taehyung by the doorway.
He padded across the cold tile, gingerly slipping his hand into Seokjin’s but settling into the
opposite end of the tub, stretching out his legs and nearly kicking Seokjin in the balls.
“OOF--ARE YOU JOKING?”
He couldn’t stay mad, the way Taehyung cracked into a shit-eating grin. “Stop teasing,” Seokjin
whined, finding Taehyung’s ankle underwater and yanking him closer. Giving up his act rather
quickly, he swiveled around in the water, scooting backwards until he fit snugly against Seokjin,
back to chest, a pair of strong arms wrapping around him and bringing him close.
“You feeling okay?”
Aside from the throbbing in his bottom, he felt perfectly whole and content, surrounded by hot
steam, warm skin, soapy water. Safe.
“Never better.”
He leaned his head back onto the boy’s shoulder, practically melting into him as Seokjin tightened
the embrace, their limbs intertwined like puzzle pieces fitting together. Tenderly he lapped warm
water onto Taehyung’s arms, planting soft kisses at the nape of his neck. The silence was calming;
the steady dripping from the faucet into the bath, their measured breathing, the gentle lapping
against the tub’s porcelain walls. But there were a million and one thoughts racing through
Taehyung’s mind, and ten thousand words sitting at the tip of his tongue.
“How many kids do you want, Jin?”

The boy behind him paused in his kissing. “Two,” he replied matter-of-factly. “A boy and a girl.
Traditional, I know. You?”
“Five.”
“FIVE?!” Seokjin sputtered.
“Three girls and two boys. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
They discussed what kind of fathers they would be. Seokjin would be the funny dad, telling silly
jokes and perhaps playing one too many pranks, Taehyung being the one to swoop in to restore the
peace. Seokjin wouldn’t quite know how to dress them. Would probably go to the nearest
department store, pick out whatever was on the sales rack and call it a day (triumphantly so).
Taehyung would spend way too much money on clothes they’d outgrow in a matter of months
(“But imagine how cute they’d look!”). Seokjin would sign their kids up for all sorts of sports
teams; not even for physicality, but rather practicality. “Swimming! Everyone needs to know how,
it’s a great survival skill,” or “Taekwondo! So they can beat up all the bullies.” Taehyung would
drag them out to museums on the weekends, would indulge them in classical music and enroll them
in lessons the moment they learned to walk. “I never got to learn piano. Can’t I live vicariously
through them?”
They talked about their dream homes. Unanimously they decided somewhere in the countryside
would be ideal. A quaint little farmhouse - idyllic, charming, perhaps far too romantic. But imagine
how incredible it would be, to live far, far away from the cold, oppressing greys of Seoul.
“Okay, but what do you actually want to do with your life?” Taehyung pried, absentmindedly
toying with Seokjin’s fingers. “You always give the same spiel of office worker but I don’t believe
you.”
And his little hunch was right. The last thing Seokjin wanted was the cubicle farm, the corporate
quote on quote 9-5, which in reality looked more like 7-midnight, rinse wash and repeat, the
golden handcuffs, a mere cog in the system. “I don’t know,” Seokjin answered in earnest, having
never entertained any possibilities other than his chaebol fate. “A farmer, maybe?” He felt silly
suggesting as such, but Taehyung didn’t mock him; rather, seemed to support him wholeheartedly.
“I want to be a fashion designer,” Taehyung giggled. “But if I’m going to live on that farm with
you it’ll be kind of hard, huh?”
“Kind of a rough commute,” Seokjin agreed.
“So I’ll work remote,” he declared. “A lot of people do that nowadays. Don’t even step foot into
the office. Then I can work from home on the farm with you!”
“I like the way you think.”
They imagined a hypothetical morning. Neither of them were morning people, so they’d simply
wake with the sun, which really translated to sometime before noon. They’d always, always eat
breakfast together, never skipping the prospect of starting their day on the same foot.
“Actually, we’ll have lunch together too,” Taehyung interjected.
“And dinner too. Last meal of the day. We start it together, we end it together.”
“YES!” A cackle. “And after dinner we’ll take a walk around the farm. Say hi to our neighbors,
play with their dogs. Chase after the chickens. Pick strawberries for an after-dinner snack. OH! The
best after-dinner snack? SEX! Lots and lots of it. I want you to take me on the wall, against the
counter, in the shower-”
“If we have kids we’ll have to be careful-”
“Then screw kids! I don’t want kids. I just want you.”
“Taehyung, I swear to God.” Seokjin’s stomach hurt from laughing. With a gentle hand he turned
the boy’s jaw, angling his chin upwards to share a sweet kiss, then one, two, five, twenty more.
Until the water cooled, until their fingers became pruny. Until midnight yielded to another day, but
Seokjin would never admit it.
Chapter End Notes
This might be TMI, TLDR so skip if you don't have time sdlkfdsl. Just in a rambling
mood tonight.
Seokjin's first time (with Joowon) is pretty much based off of my personal experience.
I lost my v-card to a total asshole, like a genuinely horrible person, but I purposely
chose /him/ because...idk I was punishing myself for god knows what. At the time I
didn't think it would matter in the long run, but years later, even to this day I regret
what I did.
Many people share the same shitty experience when it comes to losing their virginity.
It's not always graceful, it's often awkward, regrettable, all around stupid. Downright
traumatic sometimes. But the human mind is a powerful thing and we can heal and
move on.
What I'm saying is, if you by chance HAVEN'T gotten to that step yet in your life yet,
please wait along for someone special. No rush. Someone who will cherish you, care
for you. <3
End rant. Anyway it's late, I'm tired. Let me know what you think of this chapter, I
always love hearing from you guys.
Take care!
Limbo
Chapter Notes
He woke up just before the sun.
The room was saccharine warm, thanks to the hum of the heater. The sheets fresh, the scent of
cotton and laundry enveloping them. Blinking his eyes open to a wintry haze, he squinted in the
darkness until outlines became shapes, until his gaze wandered to the window where a hint of
daylight glimmered at its edges. And then with a hitch of his breath, his eyeline fluttered to the face
in front of him, and he couldn’t believe that he was in fact, alive.
Silence as Seokjin laid there pin-drop still, keeping watch of Taehyung’s sleeping form rising and
falling like a steady sea. In his deep slumber his boyish face relaxed so that his lips parted ever so
slightly, rebellious strands tickling his brows, his naked shoulder glowing honey gold and utterly
kissable. Nevertheless Seokjin pulled the covers further up, draping them securely over his
exposed skin and tucking the blanket beneath his chin. A slight movement as Taehyung stirred,
lips pursed and brows furrowed, but he didn’t wake. He continued to dream.
Sleep suddenly felt like an utter waste, Seokjin sincerely wishing that the human body had no need
for it, that he could stay awake until the end of his days, so long as he could relish in the sight of
him. He could feel his heart swelling so grandly within his chest he feared it could positively burst
at the seams.
He could feel the warmth of Taehyung’s toes pressed against his own underneath the sheets, could
feel the occasional twitch in his knees, the buzz of his body. Every breath, every murmur, every
sigh, every sputter; he tucked such memories away for safekeeping. He didn’t want to ever forget.
Long butterfly lashes rested upon his cheeks, lashes veiling eyes that when opened possessed all of
the power in the world, and then some. The ends of the universe contained in one look. If Seokjin
voiced all of his thoughts aloud he could see how others would call him dramatic, but he didn’t
think it was too much of an exaggeration. Taehyung had always been a sure and gorgeous thing,
one that couldn’t be pinned down. Seokjin felt like a brick.
The sun began to rise, hues of the room shifting from blue to tangerine. Meager light plucked up
courage, seeping in through the glass so that its rays setted gently upon Taehyung’s cheeks. He
looked like an angel.
It was a picture carved firmly into the recesses of his mind, Taehyung surrounded by light. Seokjin
remembered a time when he would look across the classroom and catch the boy’s silhouette
against the dusty window. The sun always seemed to chase after him, casting a halo around his
head, pouring out its favor upon him, dousing him in milky gold. It was then that Seokjin knew
God must’ve been real, that angels really did walk amongst men.
Taehyung would sometimes glance over so that they’d lock eyes, Seokjin playing it off time and
time again as coincidence. But there were plenty of instances where the boy remained oblivious, so
caught up in his conversations with Jimin that he’d forget to look, the sound of his surly chuckle
floating across the room, all the way to the far end where Seokjin sat. There was something
dangerously infectious about Taehyung’s happiness, for every time he laughed Jimin’s airy giggles
were sure to follow. And Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle to himself too.
Taehyung taught him how to be happy. A lonely boy who was prone to sadness, who hid in the
shadows, who drowned in blue, who made his bed in the valleys. Taehyung was always feather
light, living in color, dancing amongst clouds, but it made Seokjin want to dance, too. Yet more
often than not he found himself dragging Taehyung down instead.
Their first kiss on that deserted beach in Jeju; how one minute they were kings of the world,
kissing, intertwined, bodies alight and the next they were crashing and burning, embers and ashes.
Seokjin’s fault. How they spent months dodging one another in the hallways until Taehyung finally
pulled him aside on the evening after graduation to set things straight. How even then he couldn’t
look the boy in the eye, couldn’t give him an honest answer. Seokjin’s fault. How he could never
quite pluck up the courage, how furthermore he chose to betray him, Taehyung’s cries echoing in
that alleyway one January ago; his twisted face, clenched fists in his shirt, the broken sobs, all of it
haunted him like an apparition, clear as a movie reel. My fucking fault. How in light of all of this it
was still Taehyung who saved him. Followed him into the dark, pulled him out of the muck, shook
him out of his stupor.
Loved him through everything, despite everything.
No matter how Seokjin looked at it, it made no sense. There was only one thing he was sure of, a
thing he didn’t think he could ever forgive himself for: he made Taehyung cry. He made Kim
Taehyung cry. He made the boy with the honey laugh and the pretty moon eyes and the sunshine in
his heart, cry.
Not for a second have I deserved you.
He didn’t think he could fall back asleep again, mind mired with thoughts, heart aching with want.
So instead he remained resolutely awake, the gears in his brain grinding as he contemplated ways
in which he could atone for his sins. How high he needed to climb, how fast he needed to run, how
hard he’d have to swing. What measures he could take to make things right again.
But before Seokjin could let his thoughts wander further, as if Taehyung sensed a set of eyes fixed
upon him, he woke up. Blinked open to daylight, lids sticky with sleep until he rubbed it away with
the back of his hand, and then he was staring right at him. Everything had a way of coming to a
standstill whenever he did. The singsong of birds, morning light shifting, orange bleeding into
gold. The moment Taehyung registered Seokjin’s face he broke into a sheepish grin, as if on
instinct. Crinkles at the corners, smile lines, crescent moons.
“Hey you.”
Seokjin was breathless. “Hi.”
Without another word Taehyung inched closer until their noses brushed, pausing for a beat before
leaning in and pressing their lips together. Slow and unhurried, sacred and real. Breathing in the
other, life filling their lungs. Seokjin could feel Taehyung smiling into the kiss.
---
They did nothing extraordinary that day, Valentine’s day. Not once venturing outside but choosing
instead to dwell in the sanctuary of the apartment; shared meals, cuddles and naps, making love
upon every imaginable surface, Taehyung’s moans so impressively loud Seokjin feared his
neighbors would come knocking. But they never did.
He memorized every inch, every facet of Taehyung’s body. The pretty moles that dotted his face
like stars. The two moles on his arms that if you squeezed on the skin in between, they formed a
tiny elephant. His pretty pink lips, swollen from all the kissing and biting. The veins in his hands,
like little green rivers running into the ocean of his palm, large and warm, willowy fingers fitted
perfectly into Seokjin’s own.
On their very last evening together, they didn’t have sex. They’d made love all day and were quite
worn out from its physical strains. But more importantly, and it was a unanimous agreement
between the two, they simply wanted to talk. Lay wrapped up in one another’s arms on the bed;
clean sheets, thick blanket, cold winter outside, inside nothing but warmth.
They stayed up nearly the entire night in a divine, breathless exchange, not an inch left unkissed, a
rainbow of love bites scattered across Seokjin’s neck, chest, shoulders. Buried under the covers,
limbs intertwined, bodies fitted together, noses inches away from each other, Seokjin savored his
time, caressing his face, Taehyung closing his eyes as fingers brushed tenderly across his skin, the
boy pressing his cheek into Seokjin’s hand with yearning.
“What was your first impression of me?” Taehyung mumbled, eyes still sealed shut.
“You?” Seokjin chuckled, thinking back to the moment they first met. “I thought you hated me.”
“Really?” The boy looked up at him, a curious smile tugging at his lips. “Why?”
“You were so loud and crazy with everyone but me. Thought I’d done something to piss you off
without realizing it. I never thought we’d be friends, honestly.”
“Because I was shy, stupid,” he explained, a blush blooming across his cheeks. “You made me
nervous, you idiot.”
“Well now I know,” Seokjin whispered, scooting closer so that their noses were touching.
“When did you know that we were friends?”
“Soccer field,” the two spoke in unison. A flurry of giggles.
“Wait,” Taehyung interjected. “Not like the first time I joined you, right? Because-”
“No. Because you didn’t talk to me, weirdo. You laid down all the way at the other end of the
field. I was so confused.”
“I was SHY.”
“Like I was diseased or something-”

“You were SCARY.”
“No, YOU,” Seokjin protested, giving Taehyung’s stomach a good pinch. “Anyway. It was the one
time after we all got sent to detention. Because of your stupid rubber band trick.”
“Who’s stupid, me the one who actually did it or you, the one who stood up to cover my ass?”
“Me,” Seokjin admitted sheepishly, sneaking in a chaste kiss.
“When did you know that you liked me?” Taehyung asked with as much confidence as he could
muster.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, carding through Taehyung’s messy hair as he mulled over the
question. He thought back to all the fragments and pieces scattered in his memories, but couldn’t
pinpoint exactly one where it had clicked for him. “It just happened, I guess. Slowly but surely. I
couldn’t control it.” A peck on Taehyung’s nose mole. “You?”
He answered without hesitation. “It was way before the soccer field. You know this already. I
noticed you from day one. But then sometime during the second week it was this incredibly stupid,
unremarkable moment where it was morning, right before class was about to start and everyone
was talking. I remember the weather, too. It was a really cold day in February and it was kinda
cloudy and depressing. Seemed like it was gonna rain. So I was in a bit of a mood but I was
looking around the room, and you were turned around chatting with Jungkook, and for the longest
time you were just listening with the patience of a saint, no expression, nothing, and then all of a
sudden you started laughing, like a real laugh, and it caught me by surprise and for a moment I
thought the sun had come out again but it hadn’t, it was just you. I swear, Kim Seokjin...from that
moment on I was a goner.”
“So it was my laugh,” Seokjin mused. “Good thing you couldn’t hear me from across the room.
Otherwise those windshield wiper squeaks might’ve turned you off.”
“No. That made me like you more.”
Which prompted a fairly heavy makeout session before the two calmed down and returned to their
senses, the alarm clock on the nightstand ticking to four in the morning.
“What’s your favorite memory of us?” Taehyung mumbled into his chest.
“Mmm. When I visited you in Daegu. The night we went to the lake.”
“You mean the night we almost got caught by my roommate?”
“Yeah. That night. It was wild. It was fun.”
“You like the thrill factor, huh. The quiet ones are always the freaks.”
“No, YOU’RE the one that brought that up. I’m thinking about the lake.”
“And what about the lake,” Taehyung jested.
“I dunno.” He thought back to the periwinkle blue of Suseong, the flowery fragrance of spring,
Taehyung moving through it all like he belonged there, as if he was the scenery. “It was pretty.
You too. You were pretty.”
“When’d you learn to talk like that.”
A chuckle. “And — sorry, just thought of another. Remember when I was part of student council,
and I used to sneak you out of study session and we’d just walk around the track doing nothing?”
A nod. “How could I forget? You saving me from my misery every day, even if only for thirty
minutes.”
“I’d always look forward to those thirty minutes the most,” Seokjin confessed. “Even if it was in
the dead of winter. Even if it was in the middle of summer. I never got tired of it.”
“Me too.”
A pause. “What about you?”
“Our first kiss.”
Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
It shocked him, to hear such an answer from Taehyung. For from what he could recall, despite the
thrill of their first kiss, the moment was undeniably laced with pain, the sobering realization on
Seokjin’s part that he was indeed in love with another boy, his best friend at that, and that none of
it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t part of the plan.
“Yeah,” Taehyung whispered. “Because it was the first time where I knew you liked me for sure.
Even though you were telling me otherwise.”
They shared one more kiss, eyes drooping, heavy with sleep.
According to Taehyung his return train to Daegu would leave around noon. Seokjin insisted on
dropping him off at the station.
It was nearly five in the morning when Taehyung, on the verge of drifting into slumber, peered
deep into Seokjin’s soft brown eyes, willing himself not to cry but nonetheless growing misty by
the second. Thankfully the room was still shrouded in darkness, dawn yet to arrive.
“You make me so happy, Jin,” he sighed, barely audible. “So, so happy.”
“That’s all I want for you, Tae. To be happy.”
“I’m happy because of you.”
They could hear the early birds chirping timidly by his bedroom window.
And then suddenly, without good rhyme or reason, a certain memory resurfaced to the forefront of
Seokjin’s mind; the two of them circling around the old high school track in the thick of June,
lavender skies and cicadas galore, their blazers tossed to the side along with an empty, crinkled
coffee can. Their second year, if Seokjin remembered correctly. Taehyung was whining, dragging
his feet against the baking asphalt. “Don’t wanna go back to class,” he repeated like a broken
record, bottom lip jutted out in an adorable pout. Seokjin was walking backwards, cutting turns
with practiced expertise, chuckling at his best friend throwing his usual tantrums. “You know what
will make you wanna go back to class?” Seokjin suggested. “If we start running. A race, how ‘bout
that. You’ll be begging to go back.” To which Taehyung broke into a mischievous grin, one that
wordlessly screamed challenge accepted. “Try me.” To which Seokjin promptly started running.
Seokjin loved to run. Was an avid participant of middle school extracurriculars when spare time
was ample. But Taehyung was never into athletics, which meant even with Seokjin running
backwards on the track, he still maintained a slight lead as Taehyung pummeled forward. Rivers of
sweat dripped from his hairline down to his temple, the smaller boy letting out a frustrated cry but
nevertheless pressing forward against the torturous heat, flinging himself determinedly towards
Seokjin. “Tired yet?” Seokjin laughed. “Give up?” And Taehyung too was laughing, laughing his
brains out at the ridiculousness of it all. Because they must’ve looked so incredibly stupid; this
whole thing was stupid, so typical of Seokjin, but to hell if he thought he’d give up that easily. He
was a fighter. “NO!” Taehyung bellowed, then kept running. Kept chasing after him.
And eventually Seokjin was the one who came to a halt first, waving a white flag of surrender. Not
because of the aching in his calves or the tightness of his lungs, but the fluttering of his heart.
I don’t want the morning to come.
“I don’t want this weekend to end,” Seokjin admitted in a moment of weakness, a thickness
building in his throat.
“Me neither.”
Silence, as Taehyung curled his fingers into Seokjin’s hair, thumb running across the boy’s
eyebrow, the curve of his cheek.
“I will love you forever, Jin.” He spoke with a sudden urgency. “Forever, no matter what, always.
Always, always, always. No matter where I am, what I’m doing, who I’m with-” He could feel his
own voice giving in, breaking. “It’ll always be you. I will always love you the most.”
“I love you too,” Seokjin replied, voice softer than the little sparrows crying outside. “More than
you understand.”
“I love you,” Taehyung repeated one more time for good measure, kissing Seokjin, taking him in
like oxygen. “I love you with all of my breath, all of my life.”
---
So I lied. My train left earlier this morning. I figured it would be too hard to say goodbye.
Let’s see...where do I start?
I will never forget this weekend, Jin. The time we spent together, the long talks we shared, all the
kisses and cuddles amongst other things. I’ll remember everything.
I’m laughing (and trying not to cry ^^) as I write this. It sounds like I’m leaving you forever. I don’t
mean to come off as dramatic, of course we’ll see each other around. And I want us to be good . If
you ever need me, I’m always here. I know you’ll be there for me too.
But I’m finally going to do what you’ve always told me to. I guess that’s what I mean by
“goodbye.” I don’t want to do this, don’t get me wrong. If I could spend the rest of my life chasing
after you, looking like a fool, I would. But I realize as more and more time passes that when you
tell me to move on, you mean it.
So here I go! Moving on. Let me know if you ever change your mind.
Thank you for letting me love you.
He sat on the edge of his empty bed, rereading the note in his hands over and over again until he
practically had the thing memorized.
---
[ ♪ The Story - Conan Gray ]

And the movie's always running in my head
All the people, all the lovers, all my friends
And I hope that they all get their happy end
In the end
Chapter End Notes
At the end of this chapter, I really do suggest listening to "The Story" by Conan
Gray...and pay careful attention to the lyrics.
Since I last updated the pandemic has taken a sharp turn for the worse. My head's
admittedly been stuck in a pretty dark place. I'm trying to get out of it. I'm sure every
single one of you have been impacted in some way, and if you're currently having a
difficult time because of it, I'm sending my best wishes to you. Our only consolation is
that we're all in this together.
Some of you have expressed that this story brings you comfort (despite the angst). If
this is true for you I am glad...and I hope it can continue to do so. Your words have
always encouraged/uplifted me, so thank you for all of your support.
This is the end of "Limbo." We're moving on to junior year.
As usual, let me know your thoughts. Take care and stay happy, healthy, safe.
Part 2 | Junior Year
Chapter Notes
February: Junior Year
He blinked against the white light pouring into Daegu station, tiny dust particles dancing before
his eyes as he adjusted to the blinding brightness. Extending his long legs and relishing in the
stretch, he turned at the sound of small groans escaping from the boy by his side.
“Aigoo, our Diminie is sleepy?” Taehyung cooed, giving his friend’s cheek a light pinch.
“Hnnggg.”
“Come on. They should already be here.”
Jimin couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on. He’d received a cryptic text from Taehyung
on Sunday evening, advising that he was in town over the weekend for “family stuff,” later asking
if Jimin wanted to tag along with him to Daegu for a couple of days before the start of the
semester. Jimin, despite hearing bountiful stories of Taehyung’s university life and even having
spoken to some of his friends on the phone, had never actually visited. So naturally he accepted the
invitation with gusto, tossed a couple of outfits into an old duffle, and boarded the first train out of
Seoul on Monday morning.
The train ride had been mostly quiet; Jimin wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion weighing in their
bones or something else. Taehyung sat by the window with his eyes glued to the scenery outside,
headphones nestled snugly in his ears, hardly uttering a word for two and a half hours. Jimin
busied himself with a self-help book Namjoon had recommended, eventually setting it down out of
boredom and peeling clementines for the two of them to share instead.
They followed the crowd out of the train’s corridors, stepping onto the platform and filing up the
escalators to the main hall, milling through the double doors to find a lone Dahyun standing on the
sidewalk outside. Hyungsik was nowhere to be seen.
“Hi babies!” Dahyun cried, shuffling to their side and pulling Taehyung into a tight embrace.
“Missed you, my sweet dove.”
“It’s been like two days, noona-”
“And you!” She released Taehyung from her vice like grip and shifted her attention to the other
boy. “You must be Jimin!”
“Hello,” Jimin greeted with a shy bow, only to be cut off by the older girl.
“No need for formalities. Call me noona. Good to finally meet you, Jimin. Taehyung-ah, he’s a lot
cuter than you made him out to be. Such a cutie! Prettiest smile. Anyway, off we go-”
“Where’s hyung?” Taehyung piped up as they migrated to the parking lot.
“Ah, Hyungsikie? He had to fill in at work.”
“What does he do?” Jimin asked out of curiosity.
“He’s working as a barista,” she sang as she unlocked the car, Taehyung climbing into the backseat
to allow Jimin to sit in the front.
They pulled out of the lot onto the main road, the sound of Dahyun’s turn signal clicking in the
otherwise sleepy vehicle.
“How was your trip?” She asked, swiveling her head to glance at the both of them.
“Good.”
“Long.”
“Do you guys want breakfast? We can stop somewhere and eat.”
“What do you want to do, Jimin?”
“Sleep,” the boy replied frankly, laughing through a generous yawn. “Maybe eat after?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dahyun nodded in agreement, car veering onto the highway en route to
home.
He tried to keep a tab on Dahyun and Jimin’s conversation but found himself tuning them out
instead, mind mired with a tangled web of thoughts, so much so that his hands trembled as he
watched the familiar cityscape of Daegu pass them by. He didn’t want to sleep. He couldn’t sleep
even if he tried.
“Noona,” he interjected suddenly, with urgency. “Can we stop by hyung’s cafe?”
“Oh?”
“Kind of want to pick up some coffee.”
His best friend turned in his seat to lock eyes with him, the two exchanging a wordless look,
enough for Taehyung to send Jimin the hint he intended.
“I don’t need anything,” Jimin mumbled. “I’ll just wait in the car with you, noona.”
“Okay!” She chirped, reducing her speed as she opted for the next exit ramp. After two lengthy
traffic lights and a couple more twists and turns, she slowed to a stall at the curb of the supposed
coffee shop, leaving the engine on to keep the heat running.
“You want anything, noona?”
“Go ahead, baby.”
It was a less busy morning than usual, most of the university crowd either still asleep or out of
town, yet to return for the start of the school year. Only a couple of students were scattered around
the cafe, buried behind laptops, books, coffees armed at their side. He spotted him immediately,
lanky and boyish Hyungsik standing behind the register, his back to Taehyung, busy crafting a
latte for the customer waiting at the counter. It was as he swung around to hand the drink to said
customer that his gaze landed on Taehyung, his eyebrows raising upwards in surprise.
“Tae-”
“Hyung.” He was shaking.
“Welcome back,” Hyungsik flashed his trademark grin, pushing past the awkwardness that hung
thick between them. “Sorry I couldn’t pick you up with Dahyun. How was the trip in?”
“Good.”
“You just arrived, no? Where’s Dahyun? And your friend...Jimin, right?”
“In...in the car. Waiting outside.”
“I see,” Hyungsik nodded, wiping his hands off on the side towel slung across his hip. “So what
brings you here? Wanna pick up some breakfast? Or finally wanna give coffee a go?” He teased.
Taehyung cut right to the chase.
“I know I said ‘no’ to dinner this weekend,” he took a deep breath. “But are you free next
weekend?”
The older boy across from him froze in his spot, mouth dropping open yet words struggling to
come out. “I uh...yeah. I should be free.”
“Good. So it’s a date?” Taehyung confirmed, willing his voice not to waver.
“Yeah. Yeah...a date.” Another flash of a smile.

They stared at one another for a moment too long, Taehyung’s eyes wide and a bit glassy,
Hyungsik perplexed by the emotion but wanting nothing more than to reach beyond the counter to
hold him, comfort him. After a solid five seconds of silence, the elder let out a chuckle, gesturing
in the direction beyond Taehyung’s shoulder.
“There’s uh...there’s a customer behind you.”
“OH!” He fumbled, stepping to the side and offering an apologetic bow for holding up the line.
“I’ll see you tonight?” Hyungsik called out as Taehyung began backing away towards the door.
“Yeah. See you.”
It took everything in Hyungsik’s willpower not to let out a whoop and holler in the middle of the
cafe. Two years, he’d waited outside of a closed door. Two years, and finally the door was
opening, even if just a crack.
---
He crawled into the backseat empty handed, Dahyun pausing from her conversation with Jimin to
shoot the boy an inquisitive look.
“You didn’t get anything?”
“Sorry,” Taehyung mumbled, buckling himself back in. “Changed my mind.”
He was shaking violently now, not just his hands but his entire body, trembling with nerves, with
sorrow, with a feeling of loss more tremendous than he could condense into words. But the tears
didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. Why wouldn’t they come?
He didn’t glance up from his lap until he felt a warm hand close around his knuckles, small,
delicate fingers curling around his palm and squeezing tightly. How Jimin knew to reach out to him
in moments like this, Taehyung would never know. Jimin always had an inkling with these things,
matters of the heart, his friend saying nothing but clutching tighter with every tremor.
---
He peered into the bathroom mirror, fingers dabbing at the hickey blooming at the crook of his
neck, purple and blotchy. In a week’s time it would be gone. He didn’t want it to disappear.
Everywhere he looked he thought of Taehyung. We made love on this couch. We cooked in this
kitchen. Also fucked here. Told each other secrets in this bathtub. Also maybe fucked again, right
there. When he rolled over onto his back, sprawl-eagled in the middle of the otherwise empty bed,
everything around him smelled like Taehyung. Lavender rising.
The paper was now crinkled, edges worn and weathered from repeated handling. After an entire
morning of scrutinizing the thing, picking apart every letter, every line like surgery, he truly did
have the entire note memorized, but still he couldn’t stop himself from looking at it. Drinking in
the ebb and flow of Taehyung’s handwriting, the little loops and lilts, mountains and valleys. He
read the second to last line over and over and over again, until the words muddled together and
ceased to make sense.
So here I go! Moving on. Let me know if you ever change your mind.
“Good,” he heaved a shaky sigh. Of relief, he wanted to believe. But it wasn’t. Far from that.
“Good.”
Taehyung’s hoodie no longer smelled like him. Nevertheless Seokjin drew the drawstrings a bit
tighter, deploring the fabric to hold him, rid him of even an ounce of the emptiness swallowing him
whole. Loneliness had a funny way of making him desperate, the boy rolling his head back in
frustration, clutching the sheets to his chest and forming a makeshift cocoon.
Get up. You can’t just lay here all day.
He said he’d embrace it before, face it head on. But back then it’d only been a phantom, and now it
had manifested into a monster. Whatever had been haunting him in that bathtub was now drowning
him, pulling him under so that he was hitting rock bottom, the silence more pronounced than ever,
the rooms too vast, too stark. He hovered over a lukewarm cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, its
surface inky black and unsympathetic, Seokjin thumbing at the home button of his phone as he
debated whether to forge on or give in.
The clock on the wall ticked to half past eleven. The day had barely begun and yet already he
could barely hold it together.
With a tentative sip of his coffee he navigated to his group chats, scrolling until he located the one
titled “Seoulmates,” quickly typing out a message screaming cool and casual.
Seokjin: What’re you guys up to
Amongst the three of them, it was usually Seokjin or Jimin that ever really spoke up in the
chatroom, Jungkook being the notoriously dreadful texter that he was. Jimin on the other hand
would usually reply in a matter of seconds, and if it was anything later than that he’d offer a slew
of apologies to make up for it. Yet as Seokjin set down his phone and busied himself with his
shitty coffee, he was surprised to hear the persistent vibrations of an incoming call, the name
“Satan” flashing across his screen.
“Jungkook?”
“Whaddup.”
Jungkook never called.
“Not much,” Seokjin replied with feigned detachment. “Wanted to see what you guys were up to.”
A chuckle. “Why’re you calling?”
“Would you still want to hang if it was just me?”
An odd question, prompting Seokjin to furrow his brow in confusion. “‘Course I would. Why
would you ask that?”
“Dunno. Jimin’s out of town for a couple days, so...it’s only me.”
“Yeah, but...why do you think I wouldn’t want to hang out with you?”
There hung in the air a slight hesitation, a pause stretching on from the other line, tinged with a hint
of something sad, something forlorn.
“I dunno,” Jungkook cleared his throat. “Just checking. Anyway, yeah. I’m by myself. You’re free
to come over whenever. Crash too, if you wanna.”
“Remember, you offered this,” Seokjin teased. “No take-backs.”
“I’m regretting it already,” he could hear the boy on the other side chuckling.
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
He didn’t bother changing out of his sweats, didn’t even think to pack a toothbrush as he wiggled
into his shoes and slipped on a long coat. His coffee sat cold on the counter, abandoned, forgotten.
Within seconds he was billowing out the door, down the escalator and onto the street level,
flagging down the first empty cab, Hongdae bound. The buzzing under his skin quieted to
something manageable as the greys of Seoul blurred past, as the narrow streets of Hongik campus
came into view.
And soon he was bounding up the stairwell of the familiar building, making certain to slow his
steps as he neared the top, to gather his composure, to catch his breath. Yet his knuckle had barely
made contact with the wooden door when the entryway flew open, revealing a doe-eyed boy
standing on the other side of it. Hair mussed, shirt two sizes too big and terribly wrinkled, gym
shorts riding awkwardly up his right thigh, and an unmistakable look of relief flooding over his
face as his gaze settled upon Seokjin.
“Sup dude.”
With a customary clap on the back, he welcomed him inside.
They didn’t really do anything that day. Played a couple rounds of MarioKart. Invaded the kitchen
cabinets and ate whatever snacks they could find. Engaged in a heated ramen cooking competition.
Took a walk to the neighborhood convenience store and picked up a couple beers. At the end of it
all they lounged across the sofa like a pair of cats, legs overlapping the slightest, Netflix humming
faintly in the background and eventually joined by Jungkook’s soft snores. For a moment Seokjin
glanced away from the screen to look at his friend in his sleeping state, trickle of drool at the
corner of his mouth, his body curling into himself so that he appeared small, childlike. He could
feel the boy stir mid-dream, pressing the bottoms of his feet further into Seokjin’s thigh, Seokjin
unmoving in his place and awash with both pity and gratitude.
We’re all scared of being lonely.
---
At first glance it was easy to gather this much; Dahyun really liked yellow.
There were accents of it everywhere. Her smiley face mug on the dining table. The cushions on the
couch, the vase of flowers by the window. They were daffodils, wilting at that, but nevertheless
yellow, like the sun. The entire apartment reminded Jimin of his childhood home.
Together with Taehyung they set up the pull-out couch, Dahyun draping a sheet over the mattress
with expertise, scurrying into her room and returning with a pile of thick blankets. The two boys
took turns changing into loungewear and washing their faces, Jimin finishing first and beelining
for the couch, burrowing shamelessly underneath the covers. Taehyung dilly-dallied a little while
longer, emerging from the bathroom to exchange hushed whispers with Dahyun at the dining table.
“What’re you gonna do?” Jimin could hear him asking her, to which she responded with a muffled
giggle and a mention of a boy’s name, earning a light slap and some sly remarks from Taehyung.
Not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation further, he reached for his phone to scroll through
his notifications, noticing at the top of the list an unread text from the Seoulmates group chat. Just
as Jimin was about to open the message and respond with an apology, he felt a weight join him on
the mattress, a series of squeaks as Taehyung shifted his body into a comfortable position beside
him. Jimin tucked his phone away with a small click.
Taehyung laid flat on his back, comforter tucked snugly under his chin, eyes fixed pointedly at the
ceiling, far-away and vacant. Perhaps feeling Jimin’s gaze upon him, he licked his lips and
mumbled, “Thanks for coming with me.” Voice so small that Jimin had to strain to hear it.
“Of course,” Jimin murmured sleepily.
Something was off, and he didn’t know how to make it right.

So he resorted to the only fail-safe he knew. With careful movements he scooted closer, closing the
distance between them so that his cheek pressed firmly against Taehyung’s shoulder. “Hope you
don’t mind,” his lips tickled warm skin. “You’re like a furnace.”
“Not at all.”
Jimin closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Taehyung was gone.
It was evening.
He squinted in the dim shadows of the living room, its windows framing skies painted a dusty
blue. A flood of gold poured in from the kitchen, Dahyun lightly puttering around the stove and
humming an old tune, an array of produce splayed on the counter-side. The kitchen was otherwise
empty; still no sight of Taehyung.
She turned her head at the sound of Jimin rising from the pull-out bed, throwing the boy a sweet
smile over her shoulder and greeting him with abounding energy, “Good morning sleepyhead!
D’you sleep well?”
“Mhm,” Jimin hummed, slowly approaching her side and observing her deft cutting skills. “What
are you making, noona?”
“Kimchi jjigae,” she sang, slicing through the last brick of tofu. “Wanna help?”
“Of course,” he nodded, rolling up his sleeves and running his hands under the sink. “What do you
want me to do?”
“Be a dear and prepare the onions?”
The two worked in splendid unison, Dahyun shifting aside to make room for Jimin, who quickly
chopped said onion in half and began slicing it into even pieces. Dahyun averted her attention to a
hefty jar of kimchi, measuring out how much they’d need for the meal in question.
Other than the tinkling sounds coming from the cozy kitchen, the rest of the apartment remained
absolutely silent, his best friend still nowhere to be seen. “Where did Taehyung go?” Jimin
questioned, feeling a bit lost without him.
“There,” she pointed with her chin towards a closed door, soft light seeping through its bottom
crack. It must’ve been Hyungsik’s room.
“I’ve never met Hyungsik hyung before.”
“Hyungsikie,” she murmured with a fond shake of her head. Her whole being seemed to come
alight when she spoke of him. “He’s the best, I hate to admit it. I think you’ll really like him.”
“What’s he like?” He’d heard quite a bit from Taehyung, but he wanted a second perspective, too.
“Like a big puppy who doesn’t realize he’s grown up,” she grinned, all teeth. “Like sunshine.”
---
It had happened like this. Sunshine puppy man came home from work late afternoon, coffee stains
splattered across his white shirt, hair a windswept mess having biked his way back. He’d spotted
the two boys fast asleep in the living room, tried to hang his coat up with as little commotion as
possible. But the minute he toed off his sneakers with a clunk against the tile, Taehyung’s head
poked out from the back of the couch like a little groundhog. Hyungsik’s heart skipped a beat and a
half. And when he realized the boy had no intention of going back to sleep, he motioned for
Taehyung to join him in his bedroom.
The door closed with a gentle click behind them, Taehyung settling warily on the edge of the bed,
Hyungsik sinking comfortably into his computer chair. A slight pause passed between them as
Hyungsik soaked in the sight of the younger, his gaze downcast in his lap, fingers wringing
together in a nervous mess.
“Good to have you back,” he finally piped up, breaking the silence.
“Good to be back,” Taehyung replied weakly, although his face said something otherwise.
“Thought I lost ya for a second.”
“Yeah.” His lip wobbled pitifully before he took a sharp breath, “Hyung, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Hyungsik shook his head adamantly. “I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
“I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just...I just needed time to think.”
“Think about what?”
“Think about…”
He trailed off mid-sentence, at a loss for words altogether. What had he thought about? What was
he thinking about, even at that very moment? It was a simple answer, really, just impossible to
admit it out loud; every facet, every corner of his mind was swimming in Seokjin.
He was thinking about Seokjin.
Everything about him. The starkness of his apartment, its blank walls and bleak lighting, how it
didn’t deserve his warmth. The pinch between his brows when he was concentrating on something.
He was always so focused on something. And when Taehyung became the object of that focus,
when Seokjin kissed him with every fiber of his being, he couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss.
Because he felt so goddamn, fucking lucky.
Mere hours ago he’d been enveloped in Seokjin’s arms. Prying himself away, peeling from the
refuge of the bed, all of it had felt so wrong, utterly unnatural. Like breathing in outer space, no air
for his lungs. Like running underwater, his body reduced to bricks as he willed himself to move, to
walk out of that door and not go running back. For part of him didn’t want Seokjin to wake; that
was the whole point of leaving early, afterall. But another part of him, the louder one, secretly
hoped that he would. That Seokjin would sit upright just as Taehyung tiptoed out of the room, that
he’d question — Where are you going? — and that he’d stop him once he realized, that he’d ask
him to stay. But Seokjin never woke, and Taehyung slipped out of the apartment all too
uneventfully. From Seokjin’s complex all the way to Seoul station, Kim Taehyung didn’t shed a
tear. For the first time in what felt like his entire life, he felt nothing. He was numb.
Even now, as a whole Park Hyungsik sat across from him, gentle in stature, patient in waiting, he
could only think of Kim Seokjin. He despised himself for it, thought himself evil, heartless. But
with time, he promised; with time, it would be different.
“Thinking about how I want to move forward with my future,” he finally mustered.
“Okay,” the elder nodded, tentative and shy, timid and hopeful. “Does it...does it have to do with
anything you said at the cafe?”
Taehyung mirrored his nod.
“Dinner, you said?”
Taehyung swallowed thickly. “Maybe more.”
Hyungsik stared at him with a muddled look, emotions swelling within his chest and bleeding into
his face, as if he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. That was the thing about Hyungsik
hyung; he’d always been so transparent, like glass. Always stitched his heart big and bold on his
sleeve. “I hope I’m not jumping the gun here, but I just...I feel like I should be honest with you
from the get go.”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
Taehyung felt dizzy.
“Hyung.”
“Mm?”
This is too much.

“I really appreciate you being honest with me,” he managed through clenched fists. “But I
just...can’t handle that right now.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re right.” The elder ran a hand through his bird’s nest hair. “My big mouth
again-”
“No, no. I know you do. I just-”
“I love you as a PERSON,” Hyungsik clarified, still visibly flustered. “I mean...in that way too,
but...I shouldn’t have…”
This wasn’t what a confession should feel like. “I’m sorry. I just need...I’m willing to try. But slow,
hyung. Really slow, if that’s okay with you.”
He wondered if it would ever feel effortless, if the words would ever slide off his tongue and if
he’d ever mean them. I love you, I love you, I love you.
“More than okay,” Hyungsik affirmed. “We’ll take it day by day.”
Taehyung failed to respond, offering a sort of agreeable grunt instead as he fixated on a random
spot on the floor. There lingered a certain sadness around him, engulfing his entire being in a way
Hyungsik had never seen before.
“Hey,” he cleared his throat, reaching behind him to retrieve an envelope resting on his desk. “The
pictures from Seojoon’s party came out nice. Wanna see?”
The boy glanced up at the welcomed distraction. “Yeah.”
It was how Hyungsik and Taehyung had gotten close in the first place. Hyungsik was an avid
photographer, having dabbled in everything from DSLRs to disposables. Taehyung harbored a
great curiosity for it and got sucked in pretty quickly. They were the only nerds in their friend
group who took pictures with intention, let alone go out of their way to get film developed
properly. With great care Hyungsik unsealed the envelope, pulling from within it a glossy stack
and handing it off to Taehyung, who received it just as gingerly.
He remembered (for the most part) the night of Seojoon’s birthday. The idiot was turning twenty
two and partying as if it were his last day on Earth, the photographs in their hands a testament to
that. In half of the shots the boy’s eyes were closed, his body flopped all over the place like a
cooked noodle; limp against the counter, sprawled out on the floor, at one point standing tall on the
surface of a table. Hyungsik himself appeared in only one picture, a drunken selfie he’d taken with
Dahyun, the girl planting a wet kiss on the apples of his cheeks. But the rest of the stack was taken
from his vantage point behind the lens, which made sense as to why every other photo was of Kim
Taehyung.
Taehyung sipping on beer. Taehyung mid-laugh. Taehyung making funny faces, Taehyung
blowing kisses at the camera. Even in the dark and dingy club basement, the boy was positively
glowing, honey skin and radiant smile, rivaling the sun and all its glory.
He didn’t recognize himself at all.
“Look at your hair,” Hyungsik laughed affectionately, pointing at a shot of Wooshik and Taehyung
standing side by side, the latter sporting a disgruntled grimace, hair sticking up in all directions
thanks to Wooshik giving him a noogie just moments before. On instinct Hyungsik reached up to
ruffle Taehyung’s hair, the younger flinching in surprise at the touch.
“DINNER’S READY!” They could hear Dahyun’s voice calling from the other room.
He stood up faster than he would’ve liked, but he couldn’t help himself; electricity racing through
his veins, one snip to the wire and he’d crash down in flames.
---
The moment Jimin’s eyes landed on Hyungsik, he felt a small warmth bloom in the center of his
chest. Taehyung had been right, Dahyun certainly hadn’t lied. He did look like the sun.
Rather quickly Hyungsik spotted him standing in the kitchen, the boy beelining in his direction and
squeezing him an affable one-armed hug. “I’ve heard so many great things about you,” he beamed,
a mild scent of vanilla and coffee hanging about him.
Jimin liked to think he was a good judge of character. Had a way of looking through people past
the frills and the bullshit, built strong walls to keep the snakes out. He wanted to hang onto his
defenses a little longer, keep his guard up just a bit more, but there was something about being in
Hyungsik’s presence that was utterly disarming. Jimin was charmed.
The four of them sat down for dinner, Jimin perched across from the elder, eyes trained on the
boy’s every moment; not out of scrutiny but rather, fascination. Marveled at the way his bangs
flopped carelessly across his forehead, dipping into his eyeline, how he’d flick said hair away with
boyish nonchalance. Admired the baby blue of his sweater, how it fell loose and lovely around his
sloping shoulders, how soft it must’ve felt, Jimin resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. How
every time he smiled his whole face would light up, how every laugh was booming, genuine, as if
he wanted to fill the whole world with his joy.
He couldn’t stop staring. Also didn’t hear Hyungsik calling his name until he repeated it a second
time, followed by an amused chuckle. “Yah, Park Jimin,” he tutted. “You still with us?”
He blinked. “Huh?”
“Do you wanna get ice cream?”
“Oh?” Jimin questioned with an incredulous lilt. It was the dead of winter, February winds,
temperatures crawling just above freezing. But eyeing the other two occupants of the table who
waited expectantly for his response, he supposed this sort of suggestion was rather commonplace
in the Kim-Park household. “Sure,” he caved with a lopsided grin.
“Knew I could trust this guy,” Hyungsik winked, rising promptly from his seat. “I’ll do the dishes
when we come back. No time to waste.”
---
The walk to the ice cream parlor was only five minutes long, but Hyungsik, upon spotting Jimin’s
flimsy excuse for a coat, insisted that the boy borrow one of his puffy down jackets. The jacket
was two sizes too big, drowning Jimin’s petite frame, Hyungsik taking one look at him before
doubling into giggles and patting the top of his head. “You look like a baby chick,” he cooed
affectionately. Jimin lowered his head to the floor, fighting off the heat creeping to his cheeks,
thanking heavens for the dim lighting of the building’s hallways as they traveled to the elevator.
With most of the students still off campus, the pathways of Buk district remained largely
abandoned, save for the occasional passerby lurking past them in the dark. They slowed to a halt at
a storefront on the corner, Hyungsik pulling the door open and ushering everyone inside.
“This place is new,” Hyungsik explained to Jimin as the four of them craned their necks at the
colorful menu. “We’re always on the hunt for good dessert places. Dahyunie here has a bit of a
sweet too-”
“Excuse me?” She whipped around. “Don’t use me as a scapegoat!”
“Okay, mostly me,” Hyungsik cackled, pulling Jimin closer to the counter for him to get a better
look. “Pick whatever you want. One scoop, two, ten, don’t care. It’s on me.”
The elder approached the register once he’d collected everyone’s orders, greeting the store
employee with a toothy smile before firing off with impressive memory. “Cookies and cream in a
large cup for the baby chick, strawberry sorbet in a small cup for the lovely lady behind me, red
bean in a medium cone for that handsome fella, and a large rocky road for myself. Cup, please.”
The girl behind the counter offered an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry, but we ran out of red bean
earlier today.” Hyungsik’s face fell in an instant.
“Really?” He pressed politely. “You don’t have any more in the back?”
“No,” she shook her head. “It sold out a couple hours ago.”
“REALLY?” He gasped in surprise, scratching the back of his head in frustration. “Who’s eating
ice cream in this weather?”
Jimin couldn’t help but snicker.
“Man,” Hyungsik heaved a sigh, turning to face Taehyung in mild distress. “What do we do,
Taehyung-ah. You want a different flavor? Or do you wanna try a different place? We can go
somewhere else.”
“It’s okay, I’ll just have the matcha.”

“Are you sure?” Hyungsik leaned in, eyes comically wide. “Are you SURE that’s what you want?
Matcha? Is that what your heart truly desires? If you want I’ll get the three of ours first, and you
guys can head back and I’ll run to that other place-”
“HYUNG,” Taehyung threw his head back in laughter. “I REALLY want the matcha,” he tugged on
his sleeve for emphasis. “Stop being dramatic.” To which the elder merely responded with a
cheeky grin.
“Okay. And a medium matcha cone, please.”
“Got it. Sorry about the red bean.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We’ll just have to come earlier next time,” he fished through his wallet for a
credit card. “Nice to see that business is doing well.”
“Yeah. Well it’s all thanks to students like you!”
“Ah, so I look like a student?” He cocked his head to the side, fingers drumming absentmindedly
on the counter. “That’s good.”
“Are you not?”
“No, I am! I’m just afraid I look older, I get that sometimes. Do you go to Kyungpook University
too?”
He proceeded to chat with the worker until she’d finished scooping all of the flavors into their
respective cups and cones, passing each one to Hyungsik who distributed them to the threesome
behind him. Dahyun rolled her eyes as she dug into her ice cream. “He’s gotta be careful when he’s
talking to girls. He doesn’t realize his power.” Taehyung nibbled contentedly on his matcha,
catching Jimin’s gaze mid-bite and beaming on instinct.
They feasted on their ice creams as they ambled back to the apartment, Hyungsik with his free arm
slung around Dahyun’s neck and his focus geared mainly towards Jimin. “How do you like Daegu
so far?” He inquired. “I know you haven’t seen much, other than the train station and the
apartment, and this part of campus…”
“It’s nice,” Jimin replied honestly. “Nice change of pace. A little slower, quieter than Seoul.”
“Nice to get away right?” Hyungsik chuckled. “Maybe tomorrow if weather permits, we’ll take
you to the lake. Don’t know if you’ve heard of it, Suseong Lake, it’s pretty close by. We really like
going there. It’s our little spot.”
Taehyung was silent as he said this, eyes downcast at his weathered shoes. Jimin nodded. “I’d love
to.”
“Ah, Tae, you’re dripping,” Hyungsik mumbled quietly, pulling out a wad of napkins and stuffing
them into the younger’s hands. And then he looked back up at Jimin, continuing their conversation
right where they’d left off. “Great. So I’ll take you tomorrow after work. We’ll take pictures. A
photoshoot! Do you like polaroids?”
Jimin released a lengthy exhale, corners of his mouth upturned despite the freezing cold. He could
see himself falling in love with Hyungsik, easily. All of his walls came crumbling down.
They spent the rest of the evening piled in the Kim-Park living room, playing card games and
sipping beers until Hyungsik glanced at the clock, announcing his early retirement to bed. “Got
morning shift again,” he pouted, offering Jimin a small wave and Taehyung a gentle squeeze of the
shoulder. “Goodnight, you two.”
Dahyun excused herself onto the balcony for one last cigarette. She ended up smoking two before
stepping back into the warmth of the apartment, shivering from the residual chill. “Night, babies.”
The scent of smoke lingered for some time, but Jimin didn’t mind it.
After washing and brushing and changing he found himself curled under the covers once more,
digging out his sorely neglected phone and wincing at the onslaught of missed notifications. He
scrolled down until he found the earliest one, Seokjin’s unread message from their “Seoulmates”
group chat.
Jimin: Shit, I’m so sorry Jinnie. I’m in Daegu, been a bit busy
Jimin: Did you get a hold of Kookie?

A mere thirty seconds later, he received a reply.
Seokjin: Oh. Okay have fun
Seokjin: With JK now.
It was a terse response. A bit unusual for Kim Seokjin.
Jimin: What’re you guys up to?
Seokjin: I’m crashing at your place tonight
Seokjin: Take care Min I’m going to sleep
Jimin furrowed his brow.
Something definitely happened.
Turning onto his side, he blinked through the inky darkness at the outline of Taehyung’s profile,
the boy laying on his back with his phone cradled in his outstretched hands, the device casting a
snowy glow upon his face, cold and blue, like a tiny spotlight for his sorrow.
Lowering his phone with a heavy sigh, the boy proceeded to pinch at his brow, as if something
were physically paining him. He didn’t seem to notice Jimin staring this time, too lost in thought,
in his own little world.
So with the utmost care Jimin reached an arm over, booping Taehyung lightly on the nose.
“Hello, my alien,” he whispered. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
A pause, and then Taehyung rolled onto his side so that the two laid face to face.
Jimin had an inkling he’d been avoiding eye contact all day. It wasn’t like Taehyung to do so. He
knew those pretty brown eyes better than his own, knew all the different colors they took on; hope
and fear, joy and pain. There in the pool of moonlight spilling in from the window, his eyes seemed
to be holding back, yet on the very verge of breaking.
“I’m moving on.”
He didn’t have to elaborate for Jimin to understand what he meant.
“Okay.”
In all the years Jimin had known Taehyung, if there was anything his best friend was sure of, it’s
that the boy was stubborn to a fault. That he’d rather die before admitting defeat. That no matter
how many times his friends told him to move on, give up, you deserve better, he never listened.
Never lost hope no matter how beaten, battered, broken he’d come out at the end of it.
And here he was, waving a white flag. Surrendering into Jimin’s arms as he allowed himself to be
pulled into his chest, burying his face into the fabric of his shirt and taking a long, shuddering
breath. Jimin said nothing as he felt a patch of wetness form upon his skin, readjusting his grip so
that he held him even tighter, nuzzling his cheek against the crown of Taehyung’s head, picking up
the unmistakable hint of pine.
In that moment everything felt hopeless. But in that hopelessness Park Jimin hoped that one day,
there would be in fact, hope. For Taehyung was the sky, a celestial body holding infinite
possibilities. And if Hyungsik was the sun, Seokjin had a way of feeling like rain.
Chapter End Notes
I'm getting in the habit of using these end notes as a venting space, hope you guys
don't mind.
First of all, I love Vmin. Friends is my fave song from the new album. When I heard
Jimin sing "Hello my alien," I just knew I had to include it in this fic somehow.
How's everyone holding up? I hope, whoever's reading this, that life is treating you
kind...that you're finding little things throughout your day to be thankful for. Per usual
I am really, fucking struggling with anxiety but I am fighting it, I'm trying. Trying to
be thankful for good weather. Phone calls. Friends who will stay with you on said
phone calls until you fall asleep. Green tea. Good things. Been diving headfirst into
fics as well every time I feel stressed and I have to say it's a really nice escape. Some
of you have expressed that AOML is a safe space...I hope it continues to be.
Now that we're over halfway through this story, can I ask what your favorite scenes
have been so far? Scenes that stood out to you, that were the most memorable? I don't
know why I'm always so curious about this haha.
OH! Please also keep in mind that this story is coming of age, meaning not all of this is
romance. Friendship, family dynamics, self growth = key elements as well. Taejin of
course is the crux, but as other developments outside of Taejin unfold, please be
patient and trust me. :)
Anyway enough rambling. Please let me know what you think in the comments, I
always read and respond. Take care.
Chapter Notes
Taehyung’s first date with Hyungsik went horribly.
They picked a fancier restaurant than the usual, a posh Italian establishment in the heart of Suseong
district, with a second floor boasting floor to ceiling views of the esteemed lake. Taehyung arrived
a solid ten minutes early, his body a bundle of nerves as he fidgeted with the stacks of rings on his
fingers, as he glanced at his reflection for the nth time in the brassy lobby mirror. Hyungsik had
advised him to dress “a bit nicer,” which meant Taehyung had stood paralyzed in front of his
dormitory wardrobe for an embarrassing amount of time. He eventually settled on a respectable
collared shirt layered under a coffee-colored sweater and loose slacks, but the more he scrutinized
said outfit, the more flustered he became. I look like I’m going to class. Not a date.
He turned to the door as if to make a run for it, the entryway subsequently bursting open right on
cue, a flustered Hyungsik barreling through it and coming to a halt in front of Taehyung. He’d
come directly from his shift at the cafe but had time to change into something respectable, a crisp
button down paired with a heavy beige coat that framed his shoulders so nicely. Taehyung barely
had a chance to utter a greeting when a blur of color was brandished before his eyes, a bouquet
overflowing with a rainbowed variety, of dahlias and garden roses and ranunculus, petals large and
begging for attention, all of it overwhelming and stealing his breath away.
“Hyung,” he murmured, accepting the flowers with shaky hands.
“Hey you,” Hyungsik grinned, offering a one-armed hug, albeit lingering a bit longer. “You look
so good.”
“You too.”
He couldn’t tell if Hyungsik could tell how nervous he was, and if the elder did he pretended not to
as he guided them to the podium, announcing their arrival with his trademark smile.
Lowering the bouquet behind his back, the two trailed after the hostess as she showed them to their
seats, a lovely set up for two right by the window facing lakeside, everything beyond the glass a
dusty, hazy blue. A singular candle flickered in the center of the table, Taehyung carefully placing
the flowers to the side so as to not burn them. With an awkward pause they lowered themselves
into their respective chairs, neither quite daring to look at the other and choosing to fixate on the
view instead.
“Always wanted to come here,” Hyungsik mumbled, breaking the silence and turning his attention
back to Taehyung.
It didn’t seem to want to go away, the nervous energy buzzing between them like static in winter.
Hyungsik was now staring rather unabashedly, as if seeing Taehyung for the very first time.
Taehyung instead focused intently on a wilting petal of a pinkish rose, wondering if flowers could
feel pain, too, when plucked from their branches.
The waitress sashayed over a couple minutes later, filling their water glasses and taking their orders
entirely by memory. The menu was stiflingly fancy and Taehyung didn’t understand half of the
ingredients listed on the pages, so he simply asked for the staff’s recommendation and went with
whatever the hell she had said; he couldn’t remember the name if he tried.
“Don’t be nervous,” Hyungsik chuckled once the waitress was out of earshot, reaching across the
table to gently squeeze Taehyung’s hand. “Think of this as any other dinner we’ve had.”
Except clearly, it wasn’t. The glimmer of chandeliers reflected in their wine glasses. The live band
in the far corner of the restaurant, cycling through soft jazz and other mellow acoustics. The
perfume of flowers, their clothes, stiff and prim. None of this was normal.
Taehyung couldn’t believe this day would’ve ever come.
The first time Hyungsik had asked Taehyung out on a date was in fact a mere week after their
initial meeting. Seojoon hyung, who happened to be a respected sunbae in Taehyung’s department,
had dragged some of the freshmen to an off-campus house party, where he was first introduced to
Seojoon’s other buddies; Dahyun, Wooshik, and of course, Hyungsik. Taehyung knew by the way
Hyungsik was eyeing him that the upperclassman was potentially interested, and his suspicions
were confirmed correct when the next weekend at a different party but same people, Hyungsik
drunkenly professed over the punch bowl (such a cliche) that Taehyung was “a cutie patootie” and
“We sh—hiccup—I dunno…go out sometime.”
Taehyung in that very moment had been texting something funny to Seokjin, a stupid grin plastered
on his face as he typed out the message. He’d frozen mid-sentence upon Hyungsik’s left field
confession, his ghostly pallor doing all of the talking on his behalf.
“I’m sorry,” the elder had backtracked quickly, quite literally taking a step back from the boy and
scratching his head, humiliated. “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-“
“It’s…it’s okay,” Taehyung had stammered, equally flustered. “I just have someone back home
already.”
In the light of day, affairs of the dark were easy to dismiss and forget. The next morning the five
friends congregated for haejang-guk, the incident between the two boys quietly snuffed and swept
under the rug.
From that moment onwards Hyungsik served as a dependable sunbae, then a caring hyung,
eventually blossoming into a trusted friend but nothing more. Never pulled another move on the
younger, although Taehyung would sometimes catch the elder looking at him all loopy-eyed and
love-struck; it wasn’t difficult to miss it. Slowly the details of a certain boy back in Seoul surfaced
in conversation, Hyungsik becoming a source of great advice and comfort despite his secret
disapproval of the relationship.
With Taehyung, it was always Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin. And now, sitting across from him in the
dim light of the La Notte Blu, lovesick as the day he met him, was Hyungsik.
The appetizers arrived first, a welcomed distraction from his train-wreck of thoughts. And as more
food steadily arrived to their table the more Taehyung allowed his appetite to take over his nerves,
the pair settling into a more comfortable conversation, catching each other up on one another’s
days. Hyungsik was always chock full of funny stories from work, this time the boy animatedly
retelling an earlier incident of an underclassmen who clearly only visited the cafe to get her daily
eyeful of Hyungsik, the girl so distracted she’d tried paying for her latte with her student ID, and
even after she’d properly paid she accidentally left without retrieving her drink. Hyungsik never
ran out of anecdotes to share; he had a way of drawing people to him, like a human magnet, a moth
to a light. Taehyung found himself laughing; not a fake and airy thing but truly from the gut of his
stomach, the two enjoying themselves so much they decided to stay longer for dessert, as full night
descended upon the lake and blue shifted to black and gold.
It was just after they ordered their chocolate cake that the first twinklings of a new song sounded
from the band. A familiar old tune, nostalgic and weathered, dripping with bitter and sweet,
Taehyung’s ears perking at the first riff before the smile disappeared from his face. Hyungsik was
in the middle of recounting something stupid Dahyun had done earlier that day, but Taehyung was
no longer listening to him.
I get along without you very well
Of course I do
Except when soft rains fall
“-And man, you should’ve seen the look on her face, she was so-”
And drip from leaves, then I recall
The thrill of being sheltered in your arms
“-So I told her, well obviously you’re not supposed to do that-”
Of course, I do
But I get along without you very well
Chet Baker. It was unmistakable. As if the universe knew the last thing he needed in that moment
and decided to fuck it, to rub it in anyway.
It was immediate, the way the memory came rushing back to him like high tide.
Dawn barely breaking on the dusty outskirts of Seoul. Green leaves tussled by spring wind,
bubbling fountain lulling them to dreamland. His head nestled in Seokjin’s lap, the two stationed at
their usual park bench, sharing a pair of headphones as Taehyung’s favorite jazz playlist droned on
into morning.
Jazz had a way of calming Taehyung down. Seokjin had never listened to it on his own accord, but
now he was leaning against the back of the bench, the good man Chet himself crooning into their
ears, his eyes firmly closed…in contentment or annoyance or exhaustion, Taehyung couldn’t tell.
It was the last song Taehyung remembered hearing before drifting to sleep, cheeks burrowed into
the warmth of Seokjin’s stomach, the boy’s gentle puffs of breath from above feather light across
his skin, his heartbeat pounding so loudly Taehyung could hear it outside of its ribcage.
Why is his heart beating so fast.
A distant voice snapped Taehyung out of his trance, the clamor of the restaurant returning as the
memory slipped away like sand. He blinked his bleary eyes at an understandably concerned
Hyungsik, the elder leaning in closer and peering at his blank expression.
“Taehyung-ah…are you okay?”
To which Taehyung took a shuddering breath before answering, “I’m gonna use the restroom. Be
right back.”
Hyungsik watched worriedly as the younger rose from his place and beelined in the direction of the
bathrooms. Five minutes passed, as he busied himself with scrolling through social media and
answering texts he’d neglected. Another two minutes went by, the waitress returning to their table
with a single slice of cake, hot chocolate for Taehyung, and a cappuccino for Hyungsik. But still no
sign of Taehyung. It was at the ten minute mark that the older boy began fidgeting, leg jiggling
nervously against the carpet before he too rose from his chair, taking large and urgent strides in the
same direction Taehyung had gone.
He’d never been so frustrated with himself, the boy crumpled on the bathroom floor, in the corner
of his tiny stall, fists clenched into his hair, willing his mind not to think of him, to get over him, to
move the fuck on, you’re on a date with someone else, for fucks sake, get it together, but all he
could think about was Seokjin’s arm draped across his chest, the warmth of his skin. He didn’t
know what the lyrics were saying, but the song had an incredibly melancholy feel to it. A sad song,
for sure. And the last thought that had flashed across Taehyung’s mind before drifting into slumber
was that they would never be sad. That they, he and Seokjin, would always be happy together. Just
like this.
The loss was too much. Greater than the first, second, third time combined. This was the last time
he’d be losing him, and the finality of it was crushing. Immobilizing.
The main door of the bathroom creaked open, faint chatter of the dining room bubbling then falling
to a hush as the door closed once more. Footsteps, slow and tentative against the tile, ultimately
came to a stop outside of his stall, Taehyung’s hyperventilating catching painfully in his throat.
“Taehyung-ah?”
“Y-Yes?” He wheezed.
“You okay?”
A pause, followed by a small sob. “No.”
“Can I come in?”
A sniffle. “Yes.”
He didn’t say a word as the door unlatched and swung open, the elder quietly lowering himself to
the ground, a warm hand coming to Taehyung’s back, rubbing circles until his breathing subsided
to normal.
---
Jimin: Yo
Jimin: I know you’ve already got exams first week of classes haha
Jimin: But do you have time to spare for me? Wanna talk to you about something.
Jin: Sure. Just for you Park Jimin.
---
They grabbed a couple of coffees from Holly’s then promptly headed to the pathway around the
lake.
“What’s the professor even going to test you on?” Jimin muttered, sipping from his latte with
disdain.
“Material from last semester,” Seokjin scowled. “Except most of us threw our notes away. So now
I gotta find someone who’s nerdy enough to still have them.”
“What a jackhole move.”

“Who, me?”
“No, your professor.”
“Yeah. Well what’s new.”
“Actually, on second thought, you too.”
“Hey.”
It was a frigid day on the cusp of winter and spring, the latter seemingly sitting out on the affair,
frost creeping under their skin as they started their stroll along the water. Jimin wore a knitted grey
beanie, the color of it pairing nicely with his soft blonde tresses underneath. Seokjin opted for his
go-to puffy coat, the one that extended past his knees and kept him toasty warm.
“Can’t believe we’re gonna be juniors,” Seokjin wrinkled his nose, taking a swig from his
Americano and wincing as it scalded his tongue. “Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?”
A pensive smile tugged at his friend’s lips. “We’ve been having fun, haven’t we?”
“Mm,” Seokjin hummed. A lengthy pause lapsed between the two, Seokjin staring at the scuffs on
his sneakers and waiting for Jimin to speak. When the silence only stretched on longer, enough to
make Seokjin nervous, he cleared his throat and cut through the quiet. “You said you wanted to
talk to me about something. Something juicy, I hope?”
Jimin cut right to the chase.
“Taehyung is dating now.”
There was no visible change in Seokjin’s expression, just a small nod as he lifted the paper cup to
his lips once more.
“Is it that Hyungsik guy?” He merely asked, voice unwavering.

“Yeah, it is.”
“Okay.”
Another painful pause, save for the whistling wind through skeleton-bare branches.
“What’re you thinking, Seokjin.”
The boy in question remained unreadable. “Doesn’t really matter what I think. Objectively, it’s a
good thing.”
And to his surprise, Jimin nodded without much protest. “I agree. I think it’s a good thing.”
He despised that answer more than he’d like to admit.
With as much nonchalance as he could muster, he lifted his gaze from his drink to lock eyes with
Jimin. “You spent time with him, right? How is he?”
“Amazing,” Jimin sighed, another pang to Seokjin’s chest, but he refused to show it. “Like he’s
going to treat Taehyung really, really well.” A look of relief crossed with the slightest hint of pain
flashed across Seokjin’s face. “I think Taehyung will be happy,” Jimin continued. “Even if he isn’t
right now, he’ll get there someday.”
“As he should.”
They came to a halt at a small stone bridge, Jimin leaning against the edge of it and looking out
upon the surface of the lake, glowing gold in afternoon light and unsympathetic to the world and its
misery.
“I’m not really worried about Taehyung, you see,” the blonde licked his lips, weighing every word
carefully on a tiny scale. “He’s got good people around him. Good friends, great family, and…I
hope, I think, an amazing lover. I’m not really worried at all.”
Seokjin knew what was coming.
“-But what kills me, Jin, is…I dunno. I look at you, and…I’m worried sick.”
A lone heron waded through the shallow banks just beneath where they stood, poking through the
mud for food, its white feathers stained and mussed brown. Seokjin said nothing in return, allowing
for his friend to continue.
“I never wanted to say this to your face, but I feel like…like if I don’t keep you in check, I’ll lose
you. Like I’ll wake up one morning and you’ve slipped through my fingers.”
“You won’t,” Seokjin frowned.
“Like you’re always, always trying to do the ‘right’ thing, even if it makes you miserable. If it
breaks you apart.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, Jimin,” he ran a hand through his hair. “But it gives me peace of
mind, knowing I’m making these right choices.”
“Peace of mind?”
“Yeah, peace. Like I can look back on my actions and think, oh wow. I’m glad I did the responsible
thing instead of whatever the hell I wanted.”
“I see.”
“Not that I haven’t fucked up,” Seokjin clarified with a dry laugh. “Trust me, I know how badly
I’ve hurt the people in my life. But that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid now. I wanna be good.
Live a life of virtue, at the very least. It’ll ease my conscience.”
Jimin seemed incredulous still, his brow creased in troubled thought. “You really think so?”
“I’m fairly certain,” Seokjin nodded, eyeing the heron as it puttered around the grass, losing hope
in the waters. “If I’ve learned anything in these last couple years, it’s that you don’t get everything
you want in life. At one point I thought I could. When I was younger and lovesick and I somehow
thought the rules didn’t apply to me. But they do. They very much do, perhaps more to me than the
average person.”
“Yeah.”
“Taehyung and I…we were so young, when we met. We were fifteen when we fell for each other.
What do we know at fifteen? We’ve always acted like we were so sure of us, of everything but
isn’t it kind of crazy, that he’s never even tried to love another? What if he can? What if that
person can love him better than I ever could? How can I act so high and mighty, so convinced that
I’m the one for him if he doesn’t know anything else?”
“Well maybe you don’t know Taehyung as well as you think you do,” Jimin mumbled. Seokjin
could already hear the words sitting behind that pretty pout of his. You and Taehyung should be
together.
“Maybe I don’t. But maybe neither of us do. Maybe Tae doesn’t even know himself the way he
thinks he does. What I’m trying to say is…” He swallowed thickly, willing himself to believe every
word he was saying. “This is…it’s a good opportunity for him.”
Their argument reached a dead-end, Jimin kicking a couple of stray pebbles into the water, a choir
of ripples blooming at the surface. For a moment the boy squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clenching
tightly around the heat of his cup. When he blinked open again to the waning sun, he looked back
up at Seokjin with a fresh resolve.
“Then promise me this,” he spoke with command. “You’re awfully level headed right now, but I
don’t think you’re actually okay. I think you’re hurting. And more than anything, I want you to be
okay. Happy.” A small crack formed in his voice, but he plowed forward nonetheless. “If this is
the path you’re choosing, I want you to look at yourself, look at me at the end of all this and tell
me you haven’t regretted a thing. Because if you do…” His jaw tightened. “I don’t think my heart
can handle it.”
“Jimin…”
“You wanna know why I’m such a nosy brat sometimes?” Jimin whispered. “Why I stick my nose
in your business, why I’ve maybe overstepped in the past?” He blinked back rapid tears. “Because
if you’re not happy, I can’t be happy. When you’re broken, I’m never whole.”
No one had said anything like this to Seokjin before.
“So promise me,” Jimin demanded, sticking out his tiny pinky. “Don’t throw yourself away.
Promise me you’ll be happy, too.”
Seokjin drew in a sharp breath, trying to push past the cloud of emotion overtaking him, obediently
hooking his own pinky around Jimin’s and tugging their interlocked fingers downwards.
“I promise.”
---
“Press six,” his mother had told him. “Take the elevator up, you can’t miss it.”
Indeed, he couldn’t miss it. The restaurant took up the entire floor, minimalistic and suffocatingly
simple, reminiscent of Scandinavian design despite its specialty of Japanese sushi. Upon
approaching Kojima’s entrance he was greeted promptly by a chic-looking hostess, perhaps
dressed better than he himself. That was another thing his mother had badgered him about. “Dress
nicely,” she’d forewarned. “What is this for, exactly?” He’d questioned.
“Appa is back.”
His father had been away in Hong Kong for quite a while, enough so that Seokjin lost track of time
and stopped counting, caring. The old man had even spent his 50th birthday there and was now
finally home two weeks later. Seokjin wouldn’t have known of his return if it weren’t for his
mother.
The hostess led him through a sea of patrons to a private room in the very back of the restaurant,
the heavy door swinging open to reveal a massive table surrounded by what Seokjin realized was
his father’s band of top executives accompanied by their little bubbles of families. “Hello,” he
bowed a courteous ninety degrees before finding his seat between his mother and father. It seemed
as though he were the last to arrive, every other chair occupied, Seokjin recognizing some of the
children from previous get-togethers.
“Our Seokjinnie is getting so handsome these days,” an ahjumma cooed to his right. He smiled
shyly and bowed his head in her direction.
“Thank you.”
“You take after your mother,” her husband chimed in, earning raucous laughter from around the
table.
“Hey, that’s no way to talk to the birthday boy,” another ahjussi defended Seokjin’s father, to
which Mr. Kim laughed and shook his head.
“It’s true,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “And it’s a good thing, too, let’s be honest.”
The food arrived in waves, tiny bites of sushi served on delicate platters, the fish so tender it
seemed to melt into his tongue. He straightened his back the way his mother taught him, tried his
best to engage in conversation despite the urge to stare out of the window at the glimmering Seoul
skyline. But he knew he couldn’t afford to zone out in this particular crowd; every word, every
gesture was being watched, analyzed, picked apart. He had to be careful.
Their conversation didn’t really revolve around business, despite that being the very nature of their
relations. They spoke instead of personal investments, future vacation plans, their kids’ schools and
the many failures of the Korean education system, stock market trends. They congratulated his
father not only on his recent birthday but on the upcoming company anniversary. “Twenty years!”
One of the men exclaimed. “How time flies.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, hyung,” his father beamed, the two men clinking glasses and
throwing back the cool sake.
“When’s the celebration again?”
“End of May. At the Shilla.”
The Shilla Penthouse. Their company had celebrated their tenth anniversary at the very same
venue; a massive milestone since their five year mark, one that hadn’t been quite so fruitful. At
five years the company had still been up and coming, struggling, even. Ten years was a proud
moment. Seokjin had been young at the time, but he was old enough to remember the lavishness of
it all. His first real taste of riches, and it tasted something like loneliness. Like wearing clothes two
sizes two big. Drowning.
Jia’s family would be there too, not that Seokjin minded. Jia was cool. She got along with himself
and Seokjung just fine, perhaps even better with the latter. Speaking of the devil-
“Eomma, where’s hyung?”
Seokjung was nowhere to be seen.
To which his mother simply smiled at him, thin lined, leaving the question unanswered to continue
chatting with the woman by her side.
Before the end of the night the wait staff brought in a huge cake, a three-tiered beauty alight with
candles, casting everything in its wake in a kaleidoscope of gold. The room dimmed and the staff
sang, the rest of the group joining in song until his father made a three-second wish and blew the
flames into smoke. The staff stayed to help cut the cake into small pieces, distributing said pieces
to everyone at the table. Only the kids ate their fill, the rest of the slices largely untouched.
Whatever was left over was packed back into the box, slipped into an elegant to-go bag, along with
a couple of generous gifts from the restaurant, on-the-house.
Their driver was already waiting curbside by the time the party filed out of the building, Seokjin’s
family bidding goodbye first and climbing into the warmth of the car. “It’s so cold,” Seokjin’s
mother shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders and deploring the driver to turn up
the heat. “How can it be so cold in March?”
They arrived at the complex shortly after, taking the elevator up from lobby level to their
apartment. The ride was spent in silence, save for the rustling of the Kojima bag in his mother’s
hands and the soft tapping of his father’s fingers against his cell phone screen. Which reminded
Seokjin; he’d meant to ask Seokjung where he’d been all this time. Just as he was about to type out
a “Where are y-”
The door of their unit swung open, Seokjin spotting his missing brother immediately, the elder
peering into the refrigerator as if searching for something to eat. “Hello,” he greeted
lackadaisically, eyeing the bag in his mother’s hands with curiosity. “Where were you guys?”
“We just had dinner with some of your father’s work friends,” she waved her hand as if to brush off
his question, entering the kitchen with the bag in tow.
“I didn’t know dad was back,” he muttered, brow furrowed.
“Yes, yes. Just got back this afternoon. Did you eat yet?”
The crease between his eyebrows deepened. “No, not yet.”
“Well we have some leftover cake,” she offered, the boy scooting to the side to allow his mother to
place the package in the fridge. “Although you might not like it, you don’t like sweets anyway.”
He stood there numbly, watching as his father retreated to his usual spot on the living room couch
without so much as a hello, watched as his mother fussed nonchalantly with the items in the
refrigerator, then caught a glimpse of Seokjin standing quietly on his peripherals, witnessing it all.
“Try it, hyung,” Seokjin offered, sweet and sanguine as he hung up his coat and toed off his shoes.
“It’s really good.”
Seokjung ignored him. “Why the cake?”
“Well, you know. Appa’s birthday,” she sang, not realizing the weight of her words.
Part of Seokjin wanted very badly to change out of his stuffy outfit, but another part of him kept
him rooted in his spot, a certain fear creeping over him as he watched the shadows across his
hyung’s face darken by the second.
“Appa’s birthday,” Seokjung simply repeated, barely audible.
“Yes. Well, help yourself,” she smiled. “I’m going to settle in.” And with that she turned on her
heel, heading towards the counter to fix herself a kettle for her nighttime tea. Neither her nor their
father seemed to notice that Seokjung was pin-drop silent, fuming. No one except Seokjin, who
remained on the scene, at a loss as to what to do.
Wordlessly Seokjung excused himself from the kitchen, passing Seokjin with an impassive
shoulder, without a single hint of acknowledgement. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, the
younger trailed a distance after his older brother, watched as Seokjung disappeared into his room
before he himself dipped into his own, hastily ripping off the button-down, his belt, his fitted
slacks and slipping into a pair of comfortable track pants. He’d barely gotten the tee shirt over his
shoulders when he heard a deafening slam of the door down the hall. Seokjung. Pulling the hem
down past his stomach, he poked his head out of the doorframe just in time to catch Seokjung’s
backside, the elder donned head to toe in full running gear.
Is he insane? Seokjin gawked. It’s freezing.
And then there was another slam of another door. Seokjung was gone.
Seokjin didn’t think.
He sprinted down the hall, past his parents’ protests, his mother crying, “SEOKJIN-AH, where are
you-” But he never heard the rest of it, because within seconds he was out the door, too.
The hallway was empty, Seokjung quick in his movements, Seokjin hoping he hadn’t gone too far
in the brief time that had elapsed. He’d bolted out of the apartment in just his tee shirt, thin athletic
joggers and flimsy open-toed house slippers, but he paid little mind to his own predicament. Rarely
had he seen Seokjung that angry, at least as of late; it was a rather common sight when the two
were younger, when Seokjung would wreak havoc in the household, when he’d resort to impulsive
ways in the height of his anger. It’d gotten him into a fair amount of trouble, caused the rest of his
family a good measure of grief. Seokjin wanted to stop him before it was too late.
The elevator was moving too slowly, so he ditched the endeavor entirely and resorted to the stairs
instead, bounding down the echoey stairwell, feet moving in a blur, the boy willing himself not to
trip. As he flung into an empty lobby on the main level, he hurriedly asked the doorman on guard if
he’d seen his brother, to which the man nodded and pointed straight ahead, out of the revolving
doors, which were still turning slightly with a residual force.
He didn’t have time to brace himself for the cold, but the moment he stepped outside the air bit at
him, sharp like knives, as if it too were angry. The kind of chill that seeped into the bone, said
bones protesting, quaking, but Seokjin nevertheless plowing forward. He could see Seokjung up
ahead, running down the abandoned pathways of their neighborhood, a mere dot in the darkness.
Seokjin began to run after him.
With the thin cotton of his slippers he could feel everything underneath his feet, the harsh
pavement, the tiny stones cutting into flesh. But with every step he was gaining on Seokjung, and it
only spurred him to go faster.
“HYUNG!”
Said hyung wasn’t slowing down.
“HYUNG!” Seokjin cried out again, this time more desperate. Perhaps he had headphones in.
Perhaps he couldn’t hear him at all. He sprinted down the concrete until his toes went ice numb,
until he was close enough for his body to collide against Seokjung’s back.
“HYUNG-”
He didn’t have headphones in. He just didn’t want to hear him.
With a harsh shove he was pushed back several feet, the elder not once looking at Seokjin but
instead pushing forward, long limbs moving machine-like, cutting through the winter air. But
Seokjin was faster, and within seconds he caught up to his brother again.
“Please,” he cried out, reaching for an arm only to be rejected a second time, this time more
violently as he was thrown to the ground, skin scraping rock.
“DON’T touch me,” Seokjung spat, fuming, a match lit to a fire. Like he’d burn everything in his
path including Seokjin, too.
He didn’t know what possessed him to get back onto his feet again, wincing at the pain of fresh
cuts oozing blood from his palms. And Seokjung definitely had heard him scramble up and after
him again, because he finally whipped around only to scream, “STOP RUNNING AFTER ME.
GO BACK HOME TO YOUR PRECIOUS MOMMY AND DADDY.”
It was the way he said “your” that hurt more than anything else. Nevertheless, Seokjin mustered
through chattering teeth, “Hyung, please talk to me.”
He was laughing, albeit cruelly. “Why can’t I get ONE FUCKING moment to myself, FUCK.”
Seokjin tried not to let the words get to him, hurt him. It’s not personal. It’s not personal. It’s not.
He chanted like a mantra. But maybe it was, and the prospect terrified him. “P-Please don’t run
away.”
Seokjung had a bad habit of doing so. Seokjin remembered one time in middle school when
Seokjung got in such a terrible fight with their mother, got so fed up, so livid he burst out of the
house and booked a one-way train to Busan. He’d always felt closer to his relatives there; they’d
raised him for a good number of his vital years, after all. One of their older cousins agreed to hide
Seokjung away for a couple of days, only relenting after a police report had been filed. The whole
experience verged on traumatizing for Seokjin; for all he knew, his older brother could’ve been
dead in a ditch, and it was his fault for not chasing after him, for not stopping him in his tracks.
“You really want to do this?” Seokjung licked his lips, wearing a bitter smirk. “You REALLY want
to talk about this right now?” His chest heaved, not out of exhaustion but rather, anger. “Why
should you even talk to me? I’m a FUCKING GHOST. I might as well not exist. I’m NOTHING,
you understand? To that fucking family? I’ve NEVER been, NEVER will be. I never have and I
don’t fucking know WHY.” He took a moment to breathe, something like hysteria swimming in
his eyes. “What did I even do?”
Seokjin was trembling too, and not because of the cold. For there was truth to Seokjung’s
statement; he hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing that merited the kind of treatment he’d been
given. Simply had a mind of his own, a stubborn one at that, but what kid wasn’t a bit rough
around the edges? Outspoken, yes. Honest, yes. All of which translated as “difficult” to their
conservative parents. And ultimately, “unlovable.” But Seokjin still loved him, looked up to him,
wanted to be like him, and he couldn’t explain why.
“You exist to me, hyung.”
Another cold laugh as Seokjung looked up to the sky, breath curling into the night air like dragon
smoke.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Seokjin continued.
“THEN TELL THEM THAT!” His brother bellowed in return. The whole neighborhood could
probably hear them at this rate. “TELL THEM THAT, why don’t you? Because they for whatever
reason ONLY listen to YOU, for fuck’s sake. Maybe if you say it it’ll finally matter! What a
GREAT idea!” His voice dripped with sarcasm but also pain, so much of it, anger unfurling to
sorrow. “Fuck and I’m such a fucking failure, I can’t even…can’t even move out on my own, be
my own person, I’m stuck here in this hell, I’m just a ghost and…and so maybe they’re right,
maybe I DO deserve it, it all makes sense, doesn’t it? Why they’re disgusted with me, I-”
The more that Seokjung spoke, the more emotion laced into his voice, the sound of his cries more
and more vulnerable, small, afraid, the older boy desperately trying to keep his composure, running
a hand through his disheveled hair. Seokjin’s own vision blurred, then quickly yielded small rivers,
warm against his icy skin. He wanted to hug Seokjung, but Seokjung in that very moment terrified
him. His feet shuffled forward just an inch but no more than that. Wiping his tears with the back of
his hand, there flashed a glint of red underneath the tall lamppost, Seokjung simmering down
almost immediately at the sight of the blood.
“Fuck.”
“I’ll talk to them,” Seokjin sniffled, and he meant it. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll talk to them, really. As
soon as we get back. I’ll do it right away. I’m sorry, hyung.”
Seokjung cast his gaze to the sky once more, hoping to find a glimmer of hope but nothing.
Starless. No moon. Just clouds.
“Why are you apologizing?” He whispered, searching for light. An airplane, even. “Fight me, for
fuck’s sake, Seokjin-ah.”
He could almost hear Seokjin shaking his head. “I’ll talk to them.” A sniffle. “Just come home.”
A long pause stretched between them, punctured by the distant barking of a dog, one of the lights
in the building above flickering on like a firefly. Seokjung took one last gulp of air and released it
in a shaky sigh.
“Don’t,” he muttered. “Don’t…don’t talk to them. You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry.” The
words lingered heavily between them. “This is my fault. This is hyung’s fault.” He couldn’t look
Seokjin in the eye as he said this. “I’m sorry.”
It was just the two of them volleying “sorry” back and forth, back and forth.
With cautious steps he approached his little brother, Seokjin still a bit apprehensive but unmoving
from his place. With a gentle touch he took Seokjin’s smaller hands in his, turning them over to see
where he’d lodged fragile skin into dirt and gravel, wounds oozing with fresh crimson.
“Let’s go home.”
When they arrived back at the apartment, their father merely turned to glance at them with a raised
brow, their mother rising slightly from her seat, chock full of questions.
“What were you two idiots doing outside?” She nagged. “Do you see how cold it is? It’s below
freezing!”
But Seokjung merely shielded Seokjin from view, mumbling a terse response, “Nothing, just
getting fresh air.”
He guided them to the bathroom where he prompted Seokjin to run his hands and feet under cool
water, patting them dry with a towel and tossing the bloodied towel in the trash. He then pulled
Seokjin into his bedroom, urging the boy to sit at the edge of his bed as he dug in his closet for his
first aid kit.
Seokjin took the opportunity to observe his older brother’s room, everything within it vaguely
familiar but still foreign. A couple of old Wonder Girls posters, frayed and yellowing at its edges.
Some framed photos from Seokjung’s university graduation, Seokjin recognizing one of the boys
as Seokjung’s token gay friend. He’d met him once, at a bar? Seokjin couldn’t recall exactly. What
was his name, Jihoon? Jiho? And next to the photographs, a thick stack of books, something about
“programming” judging by the titles on the spines.
Seokjung was now kneeling before him, twisting open the cap of the ointment tube and dabbing
his finger at the opening. He then lifted Seokjin’s foot onto his knee and began applying the
substance to his wounds. For a long while the two sat in silence, until Seokjin piped up with an
unexpected question.
“What’re those books for?”
Seokjung glanced at said books before muttering, “Coding.” He licked his lips in concentration as
he applied a bandaid around Seokjin’s pinky toe. “Trying to make an app.”
Seokjin had no idea.

Once his feet were properly bandaged, Seokjung began working on the boy’s hands, his touches
gentle and careful, borderline nurturing.
“I uh…I regret everything that happened just now,” Seokjung murmured. “Badly.”
Seokjin winced at the sting of the ointment before shaking his head in defiance. “It’s not your fault,
hyung.”
A pause, as Seokjung laid the last bandaid on Seokjin’s wrist, sealing it with a light tap. “It’s not
yours, either.”
He contemplated the meaning of this as Seokjung remained kneeling on the ground in front of him,
the gears in both of their minds churning in unison. And then he was gazing up at his little brother,
Seokjung taking in the look of Seokjin, all grown up, almost taller than him now, albeit still lanky
and boyish and innocent. Big brown eyes full of good, eyes that tried to find the good in everyone
except himself. Seokjung’s heart promptly shattered tenfold.
“Seokjin-ah,” he finally sighed with a sad smile. “At the end of the day, you know we only have
each other, right?”
No, he didn’t know. Didn’t know yet again what Seokjung meant in his cryptic ways, Seokjin
cocking his head to the side in confusion. But the elder didn’t bother to elaborate, instead rising to
his feet and dusting off his hands, mumbling something about how he was going to make some
ramen for himself, for Seokjin to let him know if he wanted any, and something about getting a
slice of cake, too.
Chapter End Notes
The song that played at the restaurant during Taeshik's date.
Some of you may know I went to Korea while I was updating this fic back in
December. Holly's on Konkuk campus is a real coffee shop. I got to meet with a
Twitter mutual there and we had a nice talk and good coffee. It's right by the lake, if
you guys ever get the chance to visit I recommend. :)
Pst...did y'all pick up on the reference to Promise? :) Hope you did.
I mentioned that this chapter hurts me a lot personally...in particular the last scene
between Seokjin and his brother. It's a very very personal experience of mine that's
been woven into this story. I know you guys were probably expecting Taejin angst but
no, I was referring to family angst.
Some of you have also expressed in the last chapter that Jungkook is a very mysterious
character. I wanted to take time to explain why he was acting the way he was, because
there isn't a lengthy backstory to it. It's quite simple. Continue reading if you'd like to
know:
---
2 reasons why JK was sad when he called Jin:
1. He's just super lonely. Jikook are attached at the hip 24/7 since high school, so for
Jimin to leave even for a couple days is rather jarring. The apartment feels empty.
2. He worries that he's not a good enough friend. Seeing Taehyung ask ONLY Jimin to
accompany him to Daegu makes JK think this: that Jimin is SO good at connecting
with people. He's good at making them trust him, bringing out their most vulnerable
emotions. JK sees how both Taehyung and Seokjin rely so heavily on Jimin and JK
starts to question, well why not me? What's wrong with me? Why can't I form the
same intimate relationships? Why are my friendships so shallow and surface level?
Why can't we talk about serious matters, why can't I comfort my friends the way they
need to be comforted? So when he reaches out to Jin to see if he wants to hang, this
very insecurity is weighing heavily on his mind. He's particularly worried with Jin
because he knows he's a tough shell to crack, and not the most open person.
Jungkook's dilemma is meant to represent those of us that struggle in the same ways
with intimacy.
---
Hope everyone is holding up well. Sorry for this essay. Please let me know in the
comments what you thought of this chapter/this fic so far. I always love hearing your
thoughts and I respond to everyone. <3 Take care of yourselves.
Chapter Notes
Sorry for the long wait. To be fair, I think this is a long chapter. Enjoy!
It was over a month before they finally spoke to each other again.
That’s just the way some friendships are, Seokjin reasoned. Some were like Jimin and Jungkook,
the ones you’d talk to on the daily about everything and anything, the ones you’d go looking for to
waste time together. Some were like Yoongi, the kind of people who really hated texting and
resorted to sending memes back and forth instead, wordless exchanges. And then there were those
like Namjoon and Hoseok, who Seokjin never spoke to one on one anymore, who he’d only hear
from through their whittling group chat. Maybe Taehyung would fit in somewhere amongst the
latter, the kind of friend who would check in every once in a while. And there’s nothing wrong
with that.
It had happened on the afternoon of Seokjin’s tux fitting. Seokjung picked him up from his
apartment near campus, the two carpooling to the tailor’s for their joint appointment, the car ride
largely silent save for his brother’s mellow indie playlist crooning from the sound system. Seokjin
slumped in the passenger seat, eyes glued mindlessly to his phone, scrolling through social media
and dishing out the occasional “like.” He’d almost missed it, the flurry of new posts under
Taehyung’s handle, Seokjin quickly back-tracking and pausing with a muted weight.
He’d uploaded four consecutive photos onto an abandoned account he’d never used before. The
first being a view of the sunset from a window, its frames gilding golden light, dying daffodils
resting at the sill. It didn’t look at all like Taehyung’s dormitory room, gauzy curtains dream-like
and alluring, the caption a simple smiley face paired with a yellow heart. With a furrowed brow he
scrolled to the next photo, two ceramic cups placed side by side at what he assumed was a cafe, a
latte paired with what looked like citrus tea. The third, a cliche but aesthetic foot selca, Seokjin
recognizing Taehyung’s laced up combat boots standing across from some larger white Converses,
the shoes scuffed and dirtied at the edges, albeit worn in and loved.
The last of the batch was an image that wrung his heart in a funny sort of way; Suseong lake on a
sunny morning, blue skies crisp, tufts of clouds above budding trees. “It’s spring again,” the
caption read this time, Seokjin unable to stop himself as he double-tapped at the screen and liked
the photo. He briefly considered un-liking the post but figured it was far too awkward and self-
important of a notion. Friends could do this much. It wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t a big deal.
Their vehicle pulled into an underground garage, the duo climbing out of the sedan and taking an
elevator up to the twentieth floor. “When was the last time we were here?” Seokjung mumbled as
they traversed down the hall towards the door at the end of it.
“Middle school for me. High school for you.”
A receptionist greeted them upon their entry, ushering them towards a waiting room where they
peeled off their jackets and settled in on the leather couch. “Coffee? Tea? Water?” To which
Seokjin kindly requested a coffee, the young woman hurrying away to fulfill his order while
Seokjung was guided out of the room to meet with the tailor first. A mere twenty minutes later,
coffee drained to the bottom of his cup, his brother returned, signaling it was Seokjin’s turn to see
Mr. Choi.
Leaving his belongings on the couch, he rose from his seat and meandered into the fitting room, its
walls covered in tall panes of glass, a round pedestal situated in the center of it, Mr. Choi standing
at attention and beaming upon Seokjin’s arrival.
Despite having only met the Kim brothers once prior, he somehow remembered the two of them
quite clearly, fondly. “How old are you now?” He asked as he prompted Seokjin to elongate his
arms, stretching a measuring tape along the length of it.
“Junior year,” Seokjin answered.
“High school?”
To which Seokjin cackled aloud. “No, sir. University.”
“REALLY,” the elder widened his eyes, adjusting his glasses upon the bridge of his nose. “That
much time has passed?”
“Yes. I think the last time I was here was in middle school.”
“I was going to say,” Mr. Choi chuckled in unison. “Your brother hasn’t changed very much but
my, have you grown. Your shoulders-” He paused, obtaining the measurements with a look of awe.
“You’re done growing, right?”
“I sure hope so.”
As the tailor moved lower to measure his waist, another set of footsteps entered the room, Seokjin
turning at the sound to see Seokjung walking towards him with Seokjin’s cell phone in hand.
“Excuse me,” his brother interrupted politely before lifting the device to Seokjin’s eye level, the
screen illuminated with a call from none other than “Kim Taehyung.”
“May I take this?” He whispered to the ahjussi, who waved him off in good natured nonchalance.
With a nod of gratitude to his brother and a push of the green button, he pressed the phone to his
ear, wondering all the while why Seokjung didn’t just let it ring to voicemail.
“Tae?”
His voice didn’t sound like his own.
A gentle rustling on the other line, and then a familiar voice crackled to life: “Jin.”
There followed a swelling within his chest, a smile that quickly subsided once he caught sight of
himself in the mirror. “What’s up?”
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting fitted for a tux. You?”
“Tux?” He could almost hear Taehyung’s eyes widening in surprise. “Why?”
“There’s a company anniversary coming up. We have to dress kinda fancy.”
“I wanna see,” Taehyung muttered under his breath before clearing his throat. “Anyway. I um…
I’m just walking back to the dorm. Was studying with some friends just now.”
“So diligent of you.”
“No, not really. We sat there for thirty minutes and then we ran off to get food.”
“What’d you eat?”
It was a surprisingly normal exchange, considering the last conversation they’d shared was a
confession of ‘I love you’s.
“Ah. It’s weird. I got this super intense craving for-”
“Let me guess. Corndogs?” Seokjin interjected, grinning with knowing.
“Yes. How’d you-”
“You always crave them when you’re studying for whatever reason.”
“I don’t get it either.”
It was the same affair every year, cherry blossom season. Thick plumes of pink hanging heavy
over the lake, petals falling like rain, wind carrying them onto the surface of the water so that
everything breathed delicate and lovely. Hordes of students lounging under the trees, lovers
holding hands in the pathways.
He retraced the exact footsteps he and Seokjin once walked, meandering around the perimeter of
Suseong lake at a painfully slow pace, those behind him frequently surpassing him and plowing
ahead. But he didn’t seem to notice, eyes fixed to his feet, Seokjin’s voice humming pleasantly in
his ear and stirring in his heart something buried, something silly.
It was hard, to move forward.
And he couldn’t help but notice how this time, Seokjin didn’t ask why Taehyung was suddenly
calling out of the blue. Perhaps a year ago he would’ve, would’ve answered the phone with a wary
chuckle and questioned Taehyung’s intentions. But now there was no more grey area, for their
world had shifted to a clean back and white. They would be friends. They would be good. It was as
simple as that.
It felt as if he was walking with two different people. Seokjin on the phone, catching Taehyung up
on his last month of life and Seokjin’s ghost, the one who had once strolled aimlessly by his side,
hand in hand, the one who had held him somewhere under these branches, in an alcove of flowers.
For a moment he floated somewhere between said daydream versus reality when Seokjin promptly
yanked him back to the surface.
“Say, when were you gonna tell me you’re dating?”
He froze in the middle of his tracks, a bicyclist darting deftly around him and ringing his bell in
indignance. Yet all the surrounding chatter drowned out to static, the lively conversations
simmering to white noise as Seokjin’s question replayed in his mind like a broken record. He’d
wanted to avoid the topic altogether, dreaded the weight of it like a pile of bricks to his chest,
stalled and delayed and waited until he was cornered and there was no way out.
“Soon,” he mustered, hoping not too much time had elapsed in his thinking.
“Don’t sound so guilty,” Seokjin chuckled. “You’re not obligated to tell me these things.” With a
light hop he dismounted from the podium, giving Mr. Choi a slight bow as he exited the room.
Upon returning to the waiting area, Seokjung was nowhere to be found, Seokjin scooping up his
jacket and glancing at his phone screen to see a new message from his missing brother.
Hyung: I’ll be waiting in the car. Take your time.
And so Seokjin did just that. Took the elevator down to the ground floor, pushed past the revolving
doors till he stepped outside onto a bustling sidewalk, the streets of Gangnam packed thanks to the
amicable spring weather. Seoul’s usual smog was noticeably absent that day, yielding instead to a
gorgeous, cloudless blue. He idled under the awning of a cafe, half of his body shrouded in
shadows, his legs and feet dipping into the warmth of the sun.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he could hear Taehyung mumble on the other line. “It’s not
exactly…not actually official yet.”
“Oh? Like testing the waters?”
“…Yeah.”
“How’s that going so far?”
Taehyung retreated under the refuge of the cherry trees, the wind sighing through their branches,
memories sifting through him so that he almost lost his pride again. Almost opened his mouth to
beg, beg Seokjin to reconsider.
“Day by day,” he murmured instead, repeating after Hyungsik verbatim.
A pause, as Seokjin contemplated the meaning behind his words, as he imagined just what “day by
day” could look like. The little steps taken, timid and unsure but nevertheless moving closer. Shy
smiles. Warm hands. Timid cuddles. Heart to hearts. First kisses. Images quickly flooded his mind,
panic rising within him as he hurried to press them all down.
“Will I ever get to meet him?”
“You already have.”
“I know. But like properly?”
“Maybe in the future,” Taehyung replied flatly.
He didn’t elaborate further than that, leaving a long stretch of silence in his wake as if he were
waiting. Waiting for Seokjin to say something, his anger mounting with each second; not at
Seokjin but rather at himself, for holding onto something as ludicrous as hope.
Tell me you want me. Tell me you miss me. Something. Give me something.
“Are you almost back at your dorm?” Seokjin asked.

“Yeah,” Taehyung lied weakly.
Where in fact he was nowhere close to his dormitory, the sun hanging low in the sky above the
lake, bright blue dimming to a lavender haze, gold and pinks dancing together in twilight. He’d
stay until after sunset, he decided. Create a new memory in this place, like wiping his slate clean.
Empty it out so he can make room for someone new.
---
Twenty minutes later, Seokjin found Seokjung waiting in the driver’s seat of his car, streaming an
NBA basketball game on his phone. He quickly tucked away the device upon his little brother’s
return and switched on the ignition, didn’t bother commenting on the pallor of Seokjin’s face as he
pulled out of the garage.
They drove through the city with the windows down, Seokjin’s fingers dangling along the edge of
the glass, gaze fixed upon the familiar cityscape rushing past. Watched the light drain out of the
sky and out of himself. He hadn’t dropped a tear since Taehyung left, and it wasn’t that he was
proud of it, but still he considered it a feat of sorts.
And now everything sitting inside of him felt like still water, rotting.
Seokjung’s indie music was playing again, and all of it was too much.
“Hyung,” he mumbled with a sad chuckle. “Can you play happier songs? You’re gonna make me
cry.”
Wordlessly Seokjung picked a different playlist once he pulled up to the traffic light, upbeat 90’s
throwbacks that were impossible to cry to.
“Am I dropping you off at the apartment or are you coming home?”
Both sounded awful. He wanted to go somewhere with crowds, loud noises, pounding beats, sweat
and musk, sweet liquor and sticky surfaces. Wanted to drown out whatever the hell it was that
threatened to eat him alive.
“Can we go drink, actually.”
They diverted to Itaewon. Scoped out a dingy dive bar and drank until last call. Or at least Seokjin
did, pounding back shot after shot while Seokjung mostly observed in silence, keeping him
company. Kept keeping him company even when they returned to Seokjin’s apartment, Seokjung
tucking a drunken Seokjin into bed before he himself set up shop on the couch.
Because if Seokjin didn’t want to cry, then Seokjung figured the least he could do was to try and
help his cause.
---
He should’ve taken the heat wave warnings seriously, but he hadn’t, and now he was regretting
everything, from his decision to pair raw denim with Timberlands to the fact that he’d delayed
getting a haircut for this long. He took shelter under the shade of a camphor tree, desperately
fanning at his shirt for some semblance of relief. A glance at the time display on his phone
followed by a throaty groan; Jimin was already running ten minutes late.
Should I just go home first? Jungkook mused to himself, running a hand through his sweat slicked
hair. But the prospect of walking back on his lonesome was far too depressing. He’d rather wait
and suffer.
As soon as I get back …he ran through a mental list of the fantastical things he’d get to do after all
the obligations for the day were said and done. Gonna jump into the shower, ice cold. Before
Jimin. Because Jimin takes ten million years to shower. And then run around naked for the rest of
the night. Jimin would probably scold him to no end, the very thought of his roommate’s
disgruntled pout bringing him a great deal of satisfaction.
A small blur in the corner of his eye piqued his interest, the boy looking down at his feet to spot a
squirrel scurrying through the grass. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but nevertheless amusing
enough for Jungkook to fish out his phone, snapping a couple photos and recording a video for
good measure. He’d send the video to the group chat later, caption it with “Nice running into you
today, Hobi,” and get a kick out of his friends’ virtual eye rolls.
“Sunbae!”
A vaguely familiar voice, veering a bit on the high pitched side snapped him back to his senses,
Jungkook looking up from his phone to find an underclassman standing expectantly across from
him. A freshman he recognized from his department, innocent and pretty with her pin straight hair
and soft brown eyes.
“Oh! Hello.”
“Do you remember my name?” She cut to the chase, Jungkook’s face burning red with shame. He
had a fairly good idea but he wasn’t willing to bet on it.
“Sooyeon, right?” Crossed his toes for good luck.
The girl nodded, Jungkook’s shoulders relaxing considerably. “Ah, so you do remember me.”
“Of course!” He bluffed, sweat now drenching him. Where is Jimin. “What’re you doing on this
side of campus?”
“Just ended class. About to meet up with a friend.” She paused, studying Jungkook’s nervous
manner before piping up, “Are you free right now?”
He never took it upon himself to learn the faces, let alone names of all the newly minted freshmen,
but he had no choice but to be made aware of Sooyeon’s existence. Every fucking guy in his class
was gaga over her, and every single one of them was a coward, Jungkook had scoffed. Fucking
cowards, all of them too scared to make a move. How terrifying could a first year be?
But standing before her now, feeling the weight of her gaze zeroed in on him, the gravity of her
question upon his shoulders, he quickly came to realize that one, she was pretty enough to know it
herself; two, she also had a way of knowing exactly what she wanted and three, he was scared,
scared out of his wits.
“I’m uh, I’m actually waiting for someone right now.”
“Oh,” she scrunched her nose in brief contemplation. “Why don’t both of you come then? We’re
just getting coffee near the train station. And then we might get dinner after.”
“It’s okay,” he declined politely. “We have plans already.” Go home. Shower. Do nothing.
“Ah. Some other time then?”
“I’ll see you at the department bowling outing!” Jungkook diverted amicably. “Try and get the
other freshmen to come, yeah? It’s a great networking event.”
“Alrighty then,” she resigned, unable to hide her disappointment. “See you later, sunbae.”
She skulked away, just as Jimin was walking towards him.
He couldn’t help but break into a grin, the big, silly, lopsided kind that made him look like a goof
but he didn’t care. It was stupid, he knew, to get so excited to see his roommate that he already saw
everyday, but how could he not at the sight of Jimin speeding up into a light jog, blue and white
striped shirt fluttering in the late spring breeze, blonde hair a flowing mess, roots coming in and in
desperate need of a touch up? As unremarkable of a moment as it was, Jungkook figured he could
bottle it up and keep it with him for a long time. Jimin looked like an angel.
“Did I keep you waiting for long?” Said angel murmured breathlessly as he squeaked to a stop,
adjusting his shoulder bag across his heaving chest. Jungkook merely shook his head, beaming.
Like a puppy.
They started on the pathway leading away from campus, Jimin hurriedly delving into the reason as
to why he was late in the first place.
“Got into a full blown argument with my professor,” he chuckled to himself. “Got my grade back
last night for my essay and he gave me a B. A freakin B, are you kidding. So I confronted him after
lecture today and asked him why, and he pointed out this one part of the…”
Jungkook listened attentively at his side, nodding at all the right moments and letting out small
“Oh’s” and “What’s?” when necessary. He’d remembered how hard Jimin had worked on this
paper, so seeing him getting all worked up over a B wasn’t the slightest bit surprising. Rightly so.
“Isn’t this the essay where you actually went out and interviewed a bunch of people?”
“YES!” Jimin exclaimed. “THANK YOU. Exactly! Wow, you remembered.”
“Yeah well,” Jungkook scratched his head. “You really care about this topic.”
“I do.” They paused at a crosswalk, waited for a couple of cyclists to pass by before forging ahead.
“Anyway. How was your day. Who was that girl?” He tacked on, voice rising precariously at the
end.
“Some freshman from my department.”
“She’s pretty,” Jimin remarked casually, picking at a tiny stain on the front of his shirt.
“Is she though?” Jungkook’s voice too lilting incredulously.
“You don’t think so?” Jimin shrugged with a small smirk. “Anyway. Whatcha wanna do tonight?”
“Fucking shower,” Jungkook grumbled, as Jimin patted gently at the sheen of sweat glistening on
his neck. “And then…” He knew it was a Friday night, and he realized Jimin would likely want to
go out and let off steam; the clubs, the bars, what have you. But Jungkook was feeling
unapologetically selfish, wanted nothing more than a quiet evening, just the two of them.
“You just wanna stay in?” Jimin smiled knowingly, Jungkook’s eyes lighting up at the
proposition.
“Yes. Please?”
“Of course. It’s too hot anyway. Should we invite Seokjinnie?”
To which Jungkook shook his head. “He has that thing for his dad’s company, remember?”
“Ah, right. The anniversary party or whatever. How come we never get invited to these things?”
“Yeah. Well his family isn’t that close to mine but I know yours are…I don’t get it.”
“Should we crash the party?” A glimmer of mischief in the blonde’s eyes, a small flame of devilry
burning in Jungkook’s chest.
“Actually-”
“I kid, I kid. Our parents would kill us. Let’s just stay in. OH. Tae wants to FaceTime with us
later.”
“Oh! Okay, down.”
“Hyungsik might join the call. I think they’re together right now.”
“You mean like, together together?”
“Almost. At least enough that they’re thinking about visiting Seoul together over summer break.”
Something dark, cloudy, unsettling stirred within Jungkook, his mood falling from bright to
substantially dimmed. He thought of Seokjin, and in a strange way, he felt wronged too.
“Does Seokjin know about them?”
They came to a halt at another crosswalk, this one longer than the one before, stretching across a
major road, the stench of gasoline and car fumes thick in the air.
Jimin nodded.
“Is Seokjin doing okay?” He could see their apartment complex not far in the distance, heat from
the ground rising and distorting the image, everything wavy.
“You know how he is,” Jimin sighed. “Seems peachy keen but always feels like there’s something
off. I don’t know. I really have no idea with that guy.” They perked as the little green man
appeared, signaling it was their turn to walk. “Sometimes I envy the friendship you have with
him.”
Jungkook widened his eyes. “Me?”
“Yeah,” Jimin nodded. “With you two, it’s so easy. Seokjin’s kind of a tense guy. All wound up
tight and I feel like I have to unscrew him. That sounds wrong, but you know what I mean. With
you, though…it’s so…different. It’s like the moment he sees you he just melts.”
“He does?”
“Yeah. Like he doesn’t have to think about difficult things. Like he can just exist.”
“Oh.”
“Just the effect you have on people, Jungkook-ah.”
He mulled over those words for a long time. Stood under the cold of the shower until it no longer
felt cold. Replayed all the scenes of him and Seokjin together, tried to remember the look on
Seokjin’s face. If he was as happy as Jimin made him out to be when they’re together. He made a
mental note to pay attention next time.
---
Of course it had to be on the hottest day of the year for Seokjin to wear a full fledged tuxedo.
Gleaning a glimpse of his reflection in the hallway mirror, he fumbled at his bowtie for what felt
like the millionth time, frown etched into his face as he seriously contemplated ripping it off and
retying it all over again. “Still crooked,” Seokjung muttered, striding past Seokjin, he too dressed
immaculately in his own custom ensemble.
It was a grand affair over nothing. The entirety of the Shilla Penthouse rented out for the evening, a
stretch limousine purring at the foot of their apartment. Mr. Kim also donned in a fitted tux of his
own, Mrs. Kim boasting a stunning Givenchy number.
Their arrival was timed strategically, head of the household entering first, followed by his wife,
their second son Seokjin, and Seokjung tailing the family. An eruption of applause as their father
took to the stage, chest puffed in pride at the sea of partners and employees and their own familial
cells standing below, blacks and golds and reds blending together, rendering Seokjin’s vision hazy.
Jia was somewhere in the crowd. He squinted his eyes to try and find her, to no avail.
Speeches were made, champagne was poured. And then the fanfare began.
He made the mandatory rounds, greeting every executive and their husbands, wives, kids, none of
the names really sticking, Seokjin bullshitting his way through most of it. Taking a small window
of opportunity to slip away to the bar, he spotted Seokjung and Jia not far off, crowding around a
flustered server and shoving one too many hors d'oeuvres down their throats. He could feel his
own stomach growling in protest the moment he whipped around with a cab-sauv and was
immediately cornered by the VP of Finance, the older man hounding him with a barrage of
questions, Seokjin resigning to his fate and striking up more petty, useless smalltalk.
“You’re coming back for the summer, right?”
“Yes,” Seokjin assured him.
“Look forward to having you again.”
He tried his best to push down the dread.
It took him about twenty more minutes to make it to the buffet station, Seokjung and Jia already on
their second helping of food.
“Was wondering where the hell you went,” Jia remarked, as Seokjin dug rather animalistically into
a pile of grilled rib-eye.
“They won’t hop off my dick.”
“Must be nice.”
“It’s not, actually.”
“Grumpy much?”
“Very, very much.”
“Find us on the dance floor when you’re done, okay?”
“Meh.”
He watched her slip away into the crowd woefully, just as an older woman he recognized as one of
the main branch’s accountants beelined in his direction, intent on getting her time in with the son of
the CEO. By the time he’d finished the conversation and gotten a quick breather to eat, his food
had gone cold.
The live band was performing an upbeat song to a sparse dance floor, Seokjung and Jia occupying
the center of it with a tiny figure of tulled pink in tow, the three of them sticking out like a sore
thumb with their antics. He wiped at the corner of his mouth with a linen napkin before allowing a
waiter to clear his dishes, still fixed on the trio having a blast on their lonesome, the child cackling
with delight as Seokjung pulled a particularly cheesy move, causing Jia to break into raucous
laughter as well.
He squeezed past the partygoers to join them, greeting the little girl whom he recognized as the
daughter of the COO.
“Kyungmi-ah!” He gasped theatrically, gently tapping her on the shoulder.
“Oppa!” She squealed, whipping around at the sound of his voice and lunging excitedly at his leg.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he teased. “Thought you were a real life princess-”
“I AM a real life princess!” She retorted without missing a beat, the band suddenly transitioning to
a slow song.
“Alrighty then, princess,” Seokjung mumbled, tugging her away by the hand. “Let’s go find the
king and queen, shall we?”
He watched in amusement as his brother led Kyungmi off of the dance floor to find her parents,
then turned on his heel to face Jia, who shrugged her shoulders in relent.
It felt strange to hold her. They maintained a good amount of space, their stance a bit too formal,
backs a tad too straight, swaying to the swells of an old ballad he’d heard before but long forgotten.
Other couples surrounded them, most riper in age, they too moving languidly in the low light of the
ballroom. Somewhere in the room they knew their parents were watching.
She looked up from their shuffling feet to meet his gaze, face twisting into a grimace before asking
him quite bluntly, “Can you see yourself liking me?”
Seokjin fired back, just as brazenly, “What? Why, do you like me or something?”
“Ew, please,” she literally scowled. “Why would you even think-”
“Well your question is fucking weird, Jia.”
“I’m asking CAN you see yourself liking me, damnit.”
“Why are you asking this? I don’t like it. Next question.”
“Just answer, Seokjin.”
Strokes of music, violin strings and graceful keys. “Like seriously. I’ve been thinking,” she
mumbled. “I don’t think it’s that hard to fall for someone. It’s not as complicated as we make it to
be.”
“It isn’t?”
“Like if you look at it objectively. You and I, as people, we’re not that bad. We’re both rich. Fairly
smart. Maybe one’s smarter than the other. Decent looking. Maybe one’s better looking than the
other.”
“I wonder who-”
“So what’s not to like? We’re not serial killers, so that’s good, we've got that going for us. Both of
us are sane of mind. Maybe one more than-”
“Are you done.”
“Okay sorry. But I’m right, aren’t I? Everything lines up. Everything makes sense. Maybe our
parents are onto something.”
He took a moment to gather his thoughts and weave them into words, a sad smile tugging at the
corners of his mouth. “Is it really that simple?”
She knew it was his gentle way of saying no.
“You don’t think so?” She challenged.
A pause, as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, voice barely audible above the singer’s
brassy melodies. “Aren’t you with Kyungsoo?”
“No. We never stood a chance.”
“Why?”
“I think you know why.”
They locked eyes, tired ones.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispered as the song came to a glittering end, as they pulled away from one
another, as he happened to catch the gaze of his mother on the far wall. “I’m so sorry.”
She only shook her head. “Don’t be. Just don’t make me regret losing him.”
Hyungsik broke his camera. Or rather, Seojoon did during another night of drunken debauchery.
Cracked the lens on concrete, Hyungsik howling with sorrow, bent over on his knees, fragments of
the DSLR scattered in his palms. On the day Hyungsik picked up his baby from the repair shop,
Taehyung naturally tagged along as moral support. Watched as Hyungsik chatted it up with the
shop owner, discussing camera maintenance first then meandering to other non sequitur topics such
as the agony of the most recent heat wave or the rising real estate costs in Daegu. “I’ll recommend
your service to EVERYONE,” Hyungsik declared after paying the bill, grabbing a business card
for safekeeping. Taehyung knew he’d lose it within a day or two.
They were supposed to head back to the apartment straight away but the weather was too lovely to
ignore, spring nearing its end and summer rearing its head. With a haphazard tug Hyungsik ripped
the sweater off of his back, stuffing it into Taehyung’s bookbag with a pleased grunt. “Shall we get
ice cream?” He offered, grin splitting across his face as he fidgeted with his newly repaired camera.
Taehyung couldn’t say no, not when he was smiling like that.
With a light ring of the bell they pushed open the door to the parlor, the same establishment they’d
visited with Jimin some months ago, the two of them now on a first name basis with the girl
behind the counter. “Aigoooo. Our Seulgi is working hard, as usual,” Hyungsik burst onto the
scene with his booming voice. “Seobiseu*, please.”
“Seriously?” She shot back in disbelief. “You praise me for working hard then ask for free stuff
right after? Shameless.”
Perhaps in the beginning she’d been briefly fooled by Hyungsik’s copious aegyo, but by now she
knew him well enough not to fall for it any longer. Also sort of figured out that Taehyung and
Hyungsik were kind of together.
Nevertheless, she gave them each an extra scoop of ice cream, on the house.
“Nice weather for a date,” she remarked casually as she handed them their cones; red bean for
Taehyung, mint chocolate chip for Hyungsik.
“Do you have a date?” The elder asked, handing her his card with a flourish.
“Not everyone’s lucky like you.”
He leaned over the counter, eyes sparkling with something wicked. “Can I introduce you to
someone?”
“Depends. Are they cute?”
“Oh YEAH. For sure. I have a LOT of cute friends.” He glanced at Taehyung for backup. “What
about Seojoon?” He whispered. “Wooshik? You think they’re up for it?”
To which Taehyung scowled in vehement protest. “Yah, don’t corrupt her.”
A cackle, followed by a small sigh of defeat. “He’s right. You’re too good for them.”
They exited the shop and traveled towards the lake like clockwork, the two talking and walking
and eating in bliss, Taehyung’s soft brown locks tousled in the wind, Hyungsik gently flicking the
boy’s hair out of his eyes for him. All of the blossoms of the lakeside trees were gone, replaced by
lush leaves, hues of emerald green.
Hyungsik finished his ice cream with lightning speed, Taehyung taking his time and relishing in
the sweet, eyes fluttering to a close as they strolled along the shaded path, the sound of a nearby
radio soothing his wary heart. He felt good.
When he reopened his eyes he saw that Hyungsik had snapped a photograph while he wasn’t
looking, the younger letting out a giggle as the elder tried to swivel around to hide his misdeed.
“Let me see,” Taehyung whined, peering over Hyungsik’s shoulder at the tiny viewfinder. The
picture was actually... really beautiful, Taehyung beaming at his own profile set against the
backdrop of the water. “Can you send that to me, hyung?”
“Of course.”
He finally finished his red bean ice cream, wiping his hands off with a napkin and releasing a sigh
of satisfaction. Hyungsik was preoccupied with the camera, toying with its settings with a boyish
zeal, Taehyung’s heart flooding with fondness as he took hold of one of Hyungsik’s wiry hands,
interlacing their fingers together and bringing them down to his side.
They’d only held hands on two, three occasions. The first time, in a dark theater during a scary
movie, when Taehyung had latched onto Hyungsik for dear life. The second, when they were
walking through a crowded street, the pair linking together so they wouldn’t lose one another. And
third, when Taehyung’s hands had been cold and Hyungsik clasped them in his own to keep him
warm.
Hyungsik considered the “take it slow” initiative very seriously, for in the nearly three months
they’d been seeing each other, the farthest they’d ever gone was a kiss to the forehead, and even
then Hyungsik had been a flustered, nervous mess.
But now Taehyung was holding Hyungsik’s hands, not for any good or practical reasons, but just
because.
Because of the way Hyungsik’s entire being seemed to light up, as much as he tried to subdue it.
Because he couldn’t play it cool even if he tried, the tiny smirk on his face blooming into a foolish
grin as he held onto Taehyung’s hand tighter, letting the camera hang limp from its strap around his
neck. He was blushing now, cheeks tinted pink in early summer, Taehyung finding it hard to
believe he was really two years his senior.
“Hyung.”
“Hmm?”
“You don’t have to stay here for me, you know.”
Hyungsik had already graduated from university in December. Most of his classmates like Seojoon,
Wooshik, and Dahyun had settled into their respective jobs and were living and working in Daegu
as young adults. But Hyungsik was always meant to return to Seoul, to go back to the big city and
help his parents with their family business. Yet time and time again he insisted that he wanted to
stay in their small town just a little longer.
“What if I want to?”
“It burdens me, to hear that. I don’t want to hold you back.”
“Honestly, I’m kind of living my best life right now,” he muttered, giving Taehyung’s hand a shy
squeeze. “So you saying that is really ironic.”
“Hyung.”
“I just wanna be happy, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair, wistful and lovesick. “I mean I
only have this one life, and I wanna make it count. It’s simple, really. YOU make me happy, so
yeah. I’m gonna stay here and wait for you.”
Taehyung nibbled nervously on his lip.
“Taehyung-ah, I promise you,” he urged with a chuckle. “I’m fine at the cafe for now. More than
fine. I’m thriving. Trust me.”
The boy slowed to a halt on the side of the walkway, Hyungsik following his lead and coming to a
stop, too. Taehyung seemed to be lost in thought, wearing a pensive expression, the elder falling to
a silence as he waited for an answer.
And then Taehyung was looking up at him, big brown eyes, one monolid and one double, ethereal
in his own right, a pretty mole sitting just beneath his lash line. Gave Hyungsik a long, hard look,
filled with unspoken things and deferred dreams, and then he was standing on his tiptoes, leaning
forward, their lips brushing together, Hyungsik almost tumbling backwards in shock.
For the first time, it seemed as if Hyungsik was speechless, mouth agape in disbelief as he tried to
grapple with his current reality, of Taehyung standing across from him, freshly kissed.
“I wanted to thank you,” the boy murmured. “For being patient with me. You’re always so patient
with me.”
“W-Well.” He cleared his throat noisily. Be cool. “You’ve certainly tested my patience. But I guess
it’s worth it. I guess.”
To which Taehyung leaned in once again, this time their mouths fitting together more tenderly,
aching with want. Sweet like ice cream, warm like summer. Hyungsik was on top of the world.
And Taehyung was getting there. He’d get there someday, he was sure of it. For now, he’d give in
to the fact that Seokjin’s face flashed across his mind as he kissed the lips of another.
Chapter End Notes
*Seobiseu = Konglish for "service," basically what Koreans say when they want free
stuff at a restaurant, store, etc. The number of times I've heard this phrase when I go
out drinking with my friends HAHA.
Hope you liked. Again, reminder that this is *slow burn* and I really want to take the
time to flesh out not only the main characters Taejin but also the supporting characters
as well. Romance is a huge element of this story but so are friends/family dynamics, so
bear that in mind!
Please do leave a comment and let me know what you think, I read through everything
carefully and always respond.
I want to give a special shout-out to the readers that have been with me since the
beginning, that have been a constant pillar of support and have become my friends in
the process. I am grateful to anyone who gives this fic the time of day, but I am
especially thankful to those that have stuck with the plot through thick and thin, ups
and downs, waiting patiently for updates chapter by chapter. It's immensely
encouraging for me and it's really what keeps me going. Thank you from the bottom of
my teeny little heart.
Chapter Notes
Sorry for the wait guys. To be fair, this chapter is insanely long.
Summary of what happened last chapter as a refresher:
1. Seokjin tux fitting with Seokjung, Taehyung calls while he's walking by the lake
2. Jikook scene on campus, Jimin tells JK he has a way with people
3. Seokjin's father's company's anniversary celebration, Seokjin has an honest
conversation with Jia
4. Taeshik scene by the lake, Taehyung makes the move and kisses Hyungsik
Without further ado...
Namjoon: [attachment sent: Does Stock Liquidity Enhance or Impede Firm Innovation?]
Hoseok: Huh
Jimin: What is this
Jungkook: Oh helllllll naw
Jungkook: My head hurts
Yoongi: No
Seokjin: Oh, I read this
Jungkook: Fucking nerds
Taehyung: Yeah not even gonna bother
Taehyung: Joon, now that we have you, before you go to bed
Taehyung: Are you coming back to KR this summer? Specifically last weekend of July?
Namjoon: You know I can’t afford tix
Seokjin: I told you I’ll pay for your flight
Namjoon: LOLLL as if I’d let you
Namjoon: Anyway it’s fine. Gonna try and make it back for the holidays this year, I’ll let you
guys know
Namjoon: Why tho?

Taehyung: So……..
Taehyung: Hyungsik and I are thinking of coming back to Seoul together. ^^ Wanna introduce you
all to him
Hoseok: WHATTTTTTTT??!?!@!@1 Yeah I’m free!!!!!!!!
Jungkook: YESSSSSSS
Hoseok: I’M SO EXCITEDDFSDS
Yoongi: I’m gonna grill him
Hoseok: LETSS GO OUTTTTTT
Taehyung: He’s your hyung, dude.
Yoongi: Oh.
Jimin: I should be free ^^
Hoseok: DRINK HIM INTO THE GROUND
Taehyung: HAHA yessss!
Taehyung: Jin?
Seokjin: Ahh I have to check my schedule. Might have to work
Taehyung: Ooo really? It’s gonna be a weekend tho
Seokjin: Yeah, might have to even so. It’s been a pretty busy summer, company’s expanding
Seokjin: I’ll let you know~
[6 hours later]
Seokjin: Hey, just following up
Seokjin: Sorry, I won’t be free that weekend. Work is bustin my ass
Seokjin: Next time for sure, ok?
Taehyung: Ah it’s fine
Taehyung: Thanks for letting me know.
—
The entire car ride from Daegu to Seoul, Hyungsik was reduced to a bundle of nerves; sweat
slicked palms slipping off of the steering wheel, Taehyung huffing a fond sigh before giving the
boy’s knee a steadying squeeze. “Why are you so nervous, babe. They won’t bite.”
“You don’t know that.”
“They’re literally the nicest people.”
“To you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyung retorted in mock offense. “Seriously, they’re like a
bunch of puppies, all of them. You’ll fit right in.”
“Can you uh…” Hyungsik drummed his fingers nervously against the leather, the ends of his words
shallow and clipped. “Can you remind me? Go through everything again one more time?”
“Alright,” Taehyung chuckled, hand moving up from Hyungsik’s leg to card through his messy
hair instead. “Let’s see. Well Jimin, you already know. Nothing’s changed, still the same lil’ cutie
pie you met before. Jungkook is his roommate, both of them go to Hongik. Jungkookie is uh…
well, he comes off really shy and sweet at first but the moment you get to know him he’s actually
batshit crazy. He and Hoseokie are pretty close…maybe ‘cause Hobi’s got this crazy amount of
energy too. I think he tries to burn it all off by dancing and partying and running around
everywhere but yeah, it never works. And Hobi goes to school in Gwangju, which is also where
Yoongi-”
“So Yoongi kinda scares me.”
“WHY?”
“I just..I heard you talking on the phone with him once and it terrified me.”
“What, you think he’s some tough guy?” Taehyung threw his head back in hearty laughter. “It’s all
an act, hyung. The boy’s soft as fuck. He’ll try to act all cool and collected but the facade crumbles
pretty quickly.”
“Alrighty. I’ll trust you.”
“Trust me. Anyway. Namjoon’s in America, so you won’t get to see him…he goes to Yale so yeah,
pretty smart guy. Maybe you’ll get to meet him over winter break?”
“God, he sounds intimidating too. Why are all your friends so scary.”
“He’s literally the second softest. If there’s anyone you should be scared of, it’s Jimin.”
“Jimin?” Hyungsik cackled disbelievingly. “No way. He’s a baby.”
“And that’s what’s scary about him. Because that’s what he makes you think.”
They didn’t mention Seokjin.
The hazy skyline of Seoul materialized in the distance, tall glittering buildings under a hot July sun,
butterflies stirring in his stomach as the car sped down the highway towards their shared fate. “We
have to stop by the supermarket first,” Hyungsik insisted vehemently, hellbent on picking up fruits
and flowers for Taehyung’s family.
About an hour later, the pair stood in front of the Kim residence’s humble door, Hyungsik’s arms
filled to the brim with bags of oranges and wine, roses of pink and lilies white, all of said items
quivering almost comically, Taehyung once again placing a pacifying hand on the elder’s shoulder.
And then, with a jingle of the key and a creak of the hinges — “Eomma! Appa! We’re home!”
Everything was just as he’d left it. Parents butting heads over the stove, steam rising, thick cloud of
aroma, Jeonggyu buzzing around them with various kitchen duties, Eonjin lazing about on the
couch, feet dangling off of the armrest, eyes glued to her phone. “OPPA!” She cried upon spotting
Taehyung, flinging her device to the ground and lunging for her brother lingering by the entryway.
She eventually greeted Hyungsik too albeit with a shyer disposition, the rest of the family
following suit and ushering the duo into the home, collecting the gifts with a flurry of you
shouldn’t have’s , praising Hyungsik for his charmingly good looks, for Taehyung’s equally good
taste.
Dinner was loud as it always was in the Kim household, only this time taken a notch higher thanks
to their newest guest, whose nerves from earlier quickly dissipated to be replaced by his usual
enthusiasm instead.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had home cooking,” Hyungsik remarked wistfully, taking another
ravenous bite and prompting Mrs. Kim to chuckle in amusement.
“What do you mean?” Taehyung countered. “Dahyun noona cooks. I cook.”
“Yeah, but not like this.”
“Eat more,” Mrs. Kim urged as Taehyung broke into a scowl, the woman picking up a couple more
pieces of the gyeranmari and balancing them on top of Hyungsik’s pile. “Taehyung told me you
like these.”
“I love . Thank you, eomeonim.”
“You must really miss your parents,” she smiled sympathetically. “Thank you for coming to meet
with us first. I know you must be in a rush to see them again.”
“I miss them, but we’ll have all day tomorrow to catch up. They’re really excited to meet you, by
the way.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Mr. Kim chimed in. “Can your father make it on time? Taehyung mentioned he
might have work obligations?”
“No, he’ll be free!” Hyungsik beamed, cheeks puffed with half-chewed egg rolls. “He said this
dinner is a priority, so he’ll be there right on the dot.”
“It’s good that work is so busy for him,” Taehyung’s father noted. “That means business is doing
well. There’s already a couple locations in this neighborhood and a new one that just opened by my
office. I’ve been meaning to check it out.”
“Please do. And feel free to give us honest feedback. It’s especially helpful for our newer stores.”
“You’re helping out at one of the branches over in Daegu right now, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Isn’t it tiring, honey? To stand on your feet all day?” Mrs. Kim leaned forward with genuine
concern. “Are you wearing comfortable shoes? Do you get to sit? Take breaks?”
To which Hyungsik mustered a bashful chuckle. “I’m okay, eomeonim. I’m still young, I can
handle it.”
And as Taehyung’s eyes flitted between his mother and father, then Hyungsik and Eonjin and
Jeonggyu then back to Hyungsik–who must’ve felt the weight of his gaze and turned to lock eyes
with him–he felt a small warmth spread within his chest, a realization that all of this felt sort of
effortless, that there’d been nothing to be afraid of in the first place.
The Kim family dining table had prevailed through two tumultuous moves, the first during
Taehyung’s grade school years when Jeonggyu and Eonjin weren’t even in the picture yet, the
second just after his first year of high school when they upgraded to their current apartment in a
newer complex. The table had come with six chairs, three on either side, which for the family of
five meant that one chair always remained empty.
But now there was someone occupying that very space; the table fulfilling its purpose, things
finally clicking into place.
---
It happened again later that same evening, with Taehyung’s friends. Hyungsik trembling like a leaf
before walking through the bar’s entrance, his eyes searching the room anxiously until he spotted a
small cluster of boys in the back, all of them waving at him eagerly save for one whom he assumed
to be Yoongi, the boy offering a mere nod of acknowledgement.
But within minutes of sitting down all signs of nervousness had gone out the window, Hyungsik
falling into the rhythm of the group as if he’d always belonged; Jimin canoodling up to him to
catch up on life since they’d last met, Jungkook listening in intently and interjecting with a
sheepish laugh here and there. Hoseok tackling Hyungsik with a barrage of questions, his voice
rising high above the surrounding chatter of fellow patrons. Yoongi remained rather quiet off to the
side, but judging by the crinkles at his eyes and his wide, gummy smile he was having a good time,
too.
Easy. Everything was easy.
And as they loitered on the sidewalk after one too many rounds of soju, Hoseok swaying on the
spot and Hyungsik steadying him by the arm, they decided to extend the merriment and festivities
at the Park-Jeon household.
“I’m gonna head back,” Hoseok slurred, eyes drooping with sleep.
“I’ll make sure he gets home,” Yoongi murmured, definitely sober enough for more drinks but
opting for the more responsible route. “It was good meeting you, hyung.” Another gummy smile
before they hobbled away to find a taxi.
The four of them; Hyungsik and Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin returned to the apartment,
promptly grabbed a couple more bottles of beer from the fridge and headed straight to the roof.
Laid down on the slant to look up at the stars, all of them hidden by clouds rolling across the sky,
only a shy crescent moon dipping in and out of the murk, shiny with promise. Other than Jimin
who was still pounding down one bottle after another, the three boys at his side sipped steady and
slow, relishing in the welcomed breeze cutting through July heat.
It’d been a long day of traveling and socializing, exhaustion overtaking Taehyung as he rolled onto
his side, fitting himself snugly against Hyungsik, whose arm snaked around to cushion his heavy
head, fingertips dragging languidly up and down his spine. Tired, but content. He allowed his eyes
to close for a moment, digging deep into the good feelings; of warmth, of soft breaths, the buzz in
his veins—
The need to pee.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”

A grunt from Jimin on his right, who set down his beer with a noisy clink. “I’m coming with you.”
They pried themselves away from the pile on the roof and descended towards the apartment, the
air inside the unit hot, stuffy, still. Jimin gestured for Taehyung to use the bathroom first, then
busied himself with propping all the windows open to let in the night wind. What felt like only
seconds later Taehyung re-emerged from the bathroom, Jimin raising a brow at his lightning speed.
“Yah, punk. Did you even wash your hands?”
“Of course I did,” Taehyung snapped, giving Jimin a light kick to the ass.
Jimin took considerably longer, boredom befalling Taehyung and steering him towards the
kitchen, where he rummaged through the cabinets as if it was his own home to find a clean glass
for water. He was mid-chug when he heard Jimin’s cat-like footsteps approaching.
“Min, am I glowing?”
“You’re fine. I didn’t know you got the glow?”
“Only if I drink a lot. Which I did tonight.”
A pause, as Jimin helped himself to a glass of water as well. “Tonight was fun,” he murmured
between sips. “Hyung seemed to be getting on well with everyone.”
“I know. It’s a relief.”
“Were you nervous?”
“I wasn’t at first, but he was freaking out and it kind of rubbed off on me. But it makes sense, you
know. It’s a big deal, me introducing him to everyone.”
“Yeap. Means it’s pretty serious.”
A sharp intake of breath from Taehyung. “Yeah, yeah it is.”
“So how far have you gone?” Jimin smirked as he leaned against the counter, arms folded.
“What do you mean?” He blinked back innocently. “Like…”
Jimin mimicked the act of sex with his hands.
“What are we, twelve?” Taehyung scoffed at his best friend. “And no. We haven’t had sex yet.”
“Oh really?” The blonde across from him raised a curious brow. “What have you done then?”
“Hand stuff. Geez, you’re so nosy.”
“Count yourself lucky I’m not asking for dirty details,” Jimin waved away his remark. “But wow, I
commend you both for impeccable self control.”
“It’s mostly me,” Taehyung admitted. “I can’t seem to…I don’t know. I can’t go further until I’m
sure.”
“Sure of what?”
“That I love him.”
“Do you?”
He chewed on his lip as he contemplated the question at hand. “I don’t know.”

“Well what about him?”
“Oh him?” He chuckled, scratching behind his ear, a blush creeping to his cheeks. “He said it ages
ago. From the very beginning.”
“Everyone goes at their own pace,” Jimin assured him. “No rush. Day by day. Let yourself fall.
Don’t force it.”
“Yeah.”
They placed their now empty cups in the sink, glass clanging against metal.
“You ready to head back up?”
More words sat at the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t.
“Jimin, can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Try me.”
“Was Jin actually busy today?”
He watched Jimin’s smile fade into something indiscernible, shadows across his delicate features
shifting at the mention of his name. “Why?” He finally mustered, warily. “You don’t think he is?”
“I mean…” A lengthy sigh escaped from his lips, regret pooling in his gut. “It’s not that I’m
doubting what he said. I don’t want it to come off that way, but...who actually works on a
weekend?
“Some people,” Jimin shrugged. “It’s not that uncommon in Seoul.”

But the answer did nothing to soothe Taehyung, his lips hardened into a line of frustration.
“Tae, I really don’t know. He really didn’t tell me anything otherwise. But here’s what I do know. I
know that he cares for you so much. As a human, a person, a friend. But he also cares for you as
someone more than that. Or at least he did at one point, right? And those kinds of feelings don’t
just disappear overnight. You know that more than anyone. So you can see why this weekend
would be hard on him, yeah?”
Flinching at the sudden, noisy buzz against his thigh, he fished his phone out of his pocket to
squint at an incoming message, the screen casting a snowy glow across his skin.
JK: Did you guys fall in the toilet?
He stifled a cackle as he tucked the device back into his jeans, returning quickly to solemnity.
“I know. I’m mad at myself for being upset about it. It’s dumb of me.”
“Well you can’t do that either. It’s natural to feel that way. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s this weird feeling of like…” He too crossed his arms, fixing his eyes to the ceiling, cherry-
picking his next words carefully. Everything inside of him was jumbled, confused. How badly he
yearned for clarity. “I feel like…I can’t be at peace until the two of them meet. Hyungsik and
Seokjin. Until I see them shake hands right in front of me. I don’t know why.”
A thoughtful hum from Jimin. “Well there must be a reason why you feel this way. I can’t begin to
understand it but…everything you feel is valid, Tae. I don’t wanna hear any more of you putting
yourself down, no more of that bullshit.”
Somehow it was exactly what Taehyung needed to hear, the tension in his body leaving him, giddy
gratitude taking over as he stepped forward towards Jimin, nuzzling his face into the crook of the
boy’s collarbone, then sneaking in a tiny nibble on his shoulder, earning a sizable shove and raspy
giggles in response.
“Cut it out.”
“Oh, by the way.”
“Yeah?”
“You were asking me how far I’ve gone…but you …”
Jimin widened his eyes in faux naivete. “Hm?”
“Have you like…”
“Like what? Spit it out.”
The two locked into a staring contest, the gaze shared between them all too knowing, a hint of a
smile tugging at both of their lips.
“You know. Come on.”
“Whatever are you going on about, Kim Taehyung?”
“I mean, you...you look like a sex god. How could you not?”
“You tell me.”
“I feel like you have,” Taehyung waggled an accusing finger at him. “The minx that you are. But
you would’ve told me if you did, no?”
“Well which one is it? Make up your mind.”
But before Taehyung could dig any more out of Jimin they were joined by another set of voices, an
impatient Hyungsik and Jungkook also climbing down from the roof, slews of empty bottles
clutched between their fingers. Taehyung made a mental note to hound him on another day.
---
With a look of great focus he’d typed out the word “toilet?” before sending the message to
Taehyung with a definitive tap. The two had disappeared far longer than merited by a simple potty
break, and the awkward small talk with Hyungsik was beginning to tire him out.
All evening Hyungsik hadn’t stopped chattering, an easy gaiety following him, but now it almost
seemed as if he was hesitant to speak, as if he was somehow holding back from Jungkook.
It must be me, he nibbled on the inside of his cheek, watching as the moon disappeared behind a
veil of clouds once more. Hyungsik had peered over to ask if he was cold, to which Jungkook had
shook his head no.
And then (entirely in monotone) Jungkook broke through the silence: “Your couple name with
Taehyung is Hyunghyung.”
Hyungsik pinched his brows in confusion. “H-What?”
“Hyungsik. Taehyung. Hyunghyung. Hyunghyung couple.”
When it finally clicked for Hyungsik, his shoulders shook with genuine laughter. “Oh my god.
How come I’ve never thought of that.”
“Really? That’s the first thing that came to my mind.”
“Well now I can’t get it out of my head.”
---
He’d spent the better half of his evening keeping himself as busy as possible. Cooking up a storm
in his apartment, assembling a meal far too extravagant for one. Eating said meal alone at his tiny
dining table, TV blaring in the background, the familiar din keeping him plenty good company.
Yet any semblance of peace was immediately shattered when Yoongi sent him a text in the middle
of drinks, saying that he missed him, that he wished he was there.
So Seokjin left the apartment and went straight to the office.
It wasn’t too rare of a sight to see people camped out at their desks on a Saturday. With a touch of
his fob key the glass door released with a gentle click, Seokjin entering the room doused in moody
blues save for faint clusters of light where workers sat hunched over in concentration. Several of
them noticed Seokjin’s entry and gave him a nod of acknowledgement, the boy returning the favor
before making his way to his desk, setting down a perfunctory cup of iced coffee and switching on
his computer.
Except he had no work to do.
With summer break in full swing and no coursework to keep him occupied, he opened his web
browser in incognito mode and typed in “Youtube,” plugging in his headphones to remain
inconspicuous amongst his peers. Yet a light cough from the far corner caused his head to perk up
from the screen, gaze zeroing in on Nayoung across the room, also with her headphones in, brows
furrowed as she studied her own monitor.
It took her a solid minute to feel a presence behind her, the petite woman nearly falling out of her
seat when she spun around to find Seokjin.
“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Why, cause you’ve been caught red-handed watching dramas?”
“I was taking a break, for your information,” she snapped, minimizing the video and pulling up her
usual spreadsheets. “Was just about to get back to work.”
“Didn’t you say you were finally free this weekend?”
“Did I?” She muttered, clicking around aimlessly within the populated cells.
“You did, at lunch yesterday.”
“Okay FINE,” she seethed, unplugging her headphones and swiveling to fully face him. “My
husband and I got in a fight. I didn’t want to stay home so I came here, sue me.”
“And how long have you been here?”
She glanced at her wristwatch. “Four hours.”
“How many episodes?”
“I’m on my third.” A pause. “Why are you here?”
“Can I watch with you?”
He waited at the mercy of her well-merited scrutiny until she ultimately gave in with a shrug of her
shoulders. “Pull up a chair.”
They watched two more episodes together, Seokjin bringing over his iced coffee, propping his feet
up on the filing cabinet and making himself completely at home. Neither of them spoke much to
the other, choosing instead to chuckle quietly at funny scenes or sit in somber silence during sadder
ones. By the time Nayoung clicked onward to the sixth episode her phone was lighting up every
other minute, pummeled by a crossfire of missed calls, voicemails, and text messages.
“Don’t you think you should answer that?”
“Does he deserve for me to answer?”
Seokjin scrunched his nose in amusement. “What did you two fight about, anyway?”
“He said…” She pressed pause on the episode, heaving an irritated sigh before continuing, “That I
snore too loudly in my sleep. And that it’s disturbing his sleep. So NOW he should be sleeping just
fine, no?”
“That’s petty, noona.”
“It’s NOT. He knows how hard I’ve been working these days. And he knows I only snore when
I’m super tired. He should’ve known better.”
“So that’s all it was though? Over some snoring?”
“Well it kind of escalated after that. Turned into this whole you-don’t-care-about-my-feelings and
you-take-things-too-seriously thing and I don’t know, I don’t know. Now I’m here.”
“But he clearly isn’t sleeping fine,” Seokjin murmured as her phone vibrated with yet another call,
the display name “Dumbass <3” flashing determinedly across the screen.
“This is what he wanted.”
“Is this what you want?” Seokjin quipped, stretching his own aching limbs. “Sitting here wasting
time at the office, 11:00PM on a Saturday.”
Silence, then a subtle uptick at the corners of her lips.
“And what are you running away from?”
He smiled. You’re a hypocrite, Kim Seokjin.
“I should get going too.”
He took the train home, the car half empty, stale air, white lights. He leaned against the door as it
rumbled through tunnels, windows passing black expanses, large and infinite, never ending
channels of darkness until they finally slowed into a new station, doors sliding open in a hydraulic
whoosh, passengers disembarking, new ones promptly boarding.
He wondered if he could ever bump into a familiar face on a train like this. He’d heard the saying
before, that big cities had a way of feeling small in those moments. How he wished the world was
smaller. Simpler. That perhaps at the next stop, someone like Taehyung would step into his car,
poke their head around at the empty seats then spot him standing just a ways down the aisle. But
Taehyung never boarded the train, only strangers coming and going, like ships passing in the night.
---
Close your eyes and listen carefully
Before my story ends, you'll be dreaming
Little star
Tonight
All night, I will protect you
[ ♪ Little Star - Standing Egg ]
---
The texts came in as he was transferring trains.
[“Seoulmates” group chat]
Jimin: What are
Jungkook: You
Jimin: Doing?
He smiled at his phone, albeit involuntarily.
Seokjin: On my way home. Hbu?
Jimin: From
Jungkook: Where?
So this was going to be a thing. The eye roll and long sigh, also involuntary.
Seokjin: Work, you idiots
Jimin: That’s
Jungkook: Cool
Seokjin: Are you guys done
Seokjin: Goodnight~
Jimin: Wait
Jungkook: Can we
Jimin: Come
Jungkook: Over?
His second train had arrived, Seokjin shuffling onto a car and finding an empty corner by the
doors. With a sharp lurch they began moving forward once more, the boy steadying himself
against a pole and shaking his head with a disdainful chuckle. The tiny hands on his watch ticked
to midnight as if on cue; there was no way they’d be able to catch the last train and make the trek
from Hongdae.
Seokjin: Knock yourselves out
Seokjin: Goodnight.
Jungkook: Good
Jimin: Night
Jungkook: Seok
Seokjin: Stop
Jimin: Jin
The night air was cool as he exited the station, wind whipping at his skin as he scaled the escalator
up to ground level. He could spot the trusty convenience store not far into the distance, its windows
illuminated a commercial yellow in the dark. With a soft jingle he pushed open its door, nodded at
the ahjussi manning the counter, then deftly weaved his way through empty aisles to the
refrigerated wall in the back. Stood for a needlessly long time in front of the glass display, eyes
skirting over the meager beer selection before settling on his usual six pack of Hite Prime Max.
Tomorrow would be a Sunday. A no plans, no agenda, lazy kind of Sunday. Maybe he’d hit up
Jimin and Jungkook to grab dinner, watch a movie even. He made a mental note to do it in the
morning; they’d probably already gone to bed.
Tonight would be a drink-yourself-into-the-ground-then-pass-out kind of evening. The anxiety that

had plagued him earlier was noticeably absent, thanks to all of the moving about, the mindless
shuffling. Now he was simply tired, and he felt nothing. And nothing, in his book, was a good
thing.
Which was why he came to a screeching halt upon entering the lobby of his apartment building,
eyes widening upon spotting a pair of familiar idiots camped out on one of the leather benches,
Jimin and Jungkook rising hastily to their feet when they’d realized who had arrived. The duo were
dressed similarly in baggy basketball shorts and old wrinkled tees, Jimin with a backpack slung
over his shoulder, Jungkook with a plastic bag dangling from his pinky. Both were sporting the
proudest, stupidest grins as they sized up Seokjin in his stunned state.
“What are you-”
“-Guys doing here?” Jungkook finished for him.
He held up a finger to silence him. “Don’t do that.”
“Aren’t you so happy to see us?” Jimin cried out, flinging his arms open as if expecting a hug in
return. Seokjin simply remained in his place, jaw slack in shock, the doorman now observing the
two intruders with a look of concern.
“You guys actually came,” he muttered, slowly closing the gap between them and undoing the first
couple buttons of his shirt. “I thought you were fucking around again.”
“And you REALLY went to work,” Jungkook retorted, eyeing Seokjin’s office ensemble and
giving his arms a good squeeze. “Sexy as hell. Why don’t you dress like this more often.”
They took the elevators up, tweedledee and tweedledum babbling on either side of him, Seokjin
sandwiched in the middle, locked in a daze.
“Aren’t you guys tired? How’d drinks go?”
“Good, good,” Jungkook brushed off his question. “Round two?”
“You…you’re serious?” He paused outside of his unit door, hands hovering over the keypad.
“The night’s still young,” Jimin declared, pumping a fist into the air with gusto. The bags
underneath his eyes said otherwise.
The lights flickered on, gold flooding the lonely apartment, Jimin and Jungkook kicking off their
slides and bounding for the couch without pause.
“Can I ask why you’re here in the first place?” He followed suit, placing the six pack on the coffee
table with a gentle clink.
“We heard there’s this new brunch place near your apartment that’s pretty good. We wanna try.”
Wonder where they heard that from.
“Oh.” Gears in his mind were finally clicking together. “So you’re sleeping over.”
“Correct,” Jungkook winked, finger guns and all.
“I see,” Seokjin nodded as he uncapped a bottle, Jimin motioning for him to hand it over. “You
guys take the bed then, I’ll take the couch.”
“Okay,” Jimin sang innocently, Seokjin narrowing his eyes with suspicion.
They stayed up late. Until four, five in the morning, alcohol seeping deep, world moving slow then
eventually coming to a standstill. Jimin and Jungkook ended up slumped over one another on the
couch, heads lolling to the side and propped against one another.
“Did you guys shower?” Seokjin grumbled, tugging on Jimin’s arm to wake him. Jimin nodded
sleepily, Jungkook showing no signs of response aside from the wrinkle of his nose.
“And you, sir?” He turned his attention to the other, giving his thigh a loud slap.
A small smile crept to Jungkook’s lips.
“I’ll take that as a resounding no. You have to shower before sleeping in my bed.”
“But WHYYYYY-” The boy was now kicking, whining in protest.
“I will not hesitate to throw you out.”
“Okay FINE.” An obnoxious huff before he was stomping off to the bathroom, heavy feet and
swinging limbs.
As much of a little shit as Jimin was, Seokjin always had a difficult time roughhousing him.
Something about the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, the shallow puffs of breath
from his pillow lips. There were times when Seokjin suspected Jimin was from another star
altogether, a celestial, otherworldly being contained in one tiny body.
He pried Jimin off of his sunken place on the couch, pulling him by the hand down a dimly lit
hallway, steering him towards the bed and tenderly tucking him in.
“Goodnight,” he murmured before stepping out of the room.
He’d barely made it to the couch when he heard thundering footsteps behind him, followed by the
thud of another body making contact with his, wiry arms wrapping around his torso and dragging
him back from where he’d come.
“WHAT THE-”
And the next thing he knew he heard the bathroom door burst open, hot steam rising, a pair of
slippery hands wrapping around his ankles and lifting him off of the ground entirely (although his
bum skirted dangerously close to the carpet).
They tossed him haphazardly onto the bed before scrambling onto the mattress themselves,
wrestling him under the covers despite his writhing and biting and groaning.
“ARGHHHH YOU FUCKERS,” he growled, nearly clocking Jungkook in the groin, pressing
down the laugh threatening to bubble at his own throat. Jungkook’s skin was still wet from the
shower, beads of water landing on Seokjin, who shook his head furiously to rid himself of the
droplets.
“We can all fitttttttt,” Jimin wailed, throwing a leg over Seokjin’s torso and reeling him in even
closer.
A sigh of relent, followed by victorious giggles. “Whatever. I’m tired.”
When the hysteria died down, the room reduced to a hush, soft sounds of Jimin’s steady breathing,
Seokjin laid on his back, wide awake despite the hour. Technically his bed was big enough for all
three, although it was still quite a squeeze, warm pulsing bodies pressed up against him. It
would’ve made much more sense to retreat to the couch as planned, but Seokjin couldn’t deny that
he did like the feeling. Of not being alone, of not feeling empty.
It was when he rolled over onto his side that he was met face to face with a very awake Jungkook,
eyes blown wide and peering curiously back at him.
“Oh my god, you scared me,” Seokjin whispered, breath catching in his throat. “Why are you
staring at me like that?”
It was a confusing look, one of innocence and questioning and curiosity, Seokjin blinking rapidly
for a beat or two to try and make sense of it.
But then the boy seemed to snap out of his trance, he too blinking into consciousness before
muttering, “Sleeping with my eyes open, bad habit,” then turning so that his back faced Seokjin
instead.
---
Home was a place where he could never grow up. Where his mother would fuss over whether his
feet were cold (“It’s summer, eomma.”) or where he’d return to his room to find a pile of laundry
folded neatly for him, perfect stacks, clean edges. He dutifully tucked said piles into their
designated drawers, into his open weekender bag, then hung the rest in his now sparse closet.
He’d been reeling with exhaustion while leaving the Park-Jeon apartment, when kissing Hyungsik
goodnight and goodbye. Tomorrow, Sunday, would be a big day; joint dinner with his and
Hyungsik’s families. “Are you nervous?” Hyungsik had asked, hand cupping his cheek. And
Taehyung had answered earnestly, “No.”
But now he laid in bed with his eyes squeezed firmly shut, praying for sleep to overtake him but it
never did, the time ticking mockingly to 2:00AM. Suddenly the bed felt too small for his body,
despite it being the same size as his single mattress back in the dorms. His sheets far too childish,
bright blue in color and plastered with patterns of little bears. Home was supposed to feel warm,
familiar. And somehow in that moment, it only felt like the latter.
Giving up on the endeavor entirely he ambled over to his desk, flicking on the lamp and powering
on his laptop. I’ll tire myself out with some nature documentaries, he figured, settling comfortably
into his seat and willing himself to get lost in the narrator’s monotonous droning. But within
minutes his eyes began to distractedly drift, sweeping over the surface of his desk, the wood of it
weathered and covered with sizable dinks and scratches, oozing with history. A pencil cup packed
with highlighters and gel pens of every color, pencils sharpened down to their very ends, chunky
erasers. A pile of old textbooks from high school. And conveniently front and center, an
impossible-to-miss photograph of himself and Seokjin.
He had a total of three framed photos in his room. Two sitting on his desk and one hanging on the
wall above his bed. The hanging photograph being that of the gang during graduation, the last time
any of them had worn their starchy navy uniforms, lanky arms intertwined, lopsided smiles.
The pictures on his desk sat side by side; the first being an ancient artifact of him and Jimin in
middle school, taken on a class field trip to Everland Amusement Park, tiny frames drowned in
baggy t-shirts, their statures so small they appeared almost bird-like.
And then Seokjin.
By comparison their photo was taken far more recently, yet somehow the memory of it felt much
further away, like history. They’d taken the picture sometime on the cusp of spring and summer,
their uniforms soaked with perspiration and sticking to their skin. A day easily forgotten, but just as
quickly recollected. The duo had somehow convinced class genius Namjoon to skip Hagwon for
one evening and play hooky with them at the Han River instead. They’d hopped onto a sunset
chasing bus, rented bikes at the nearest stall they could find, and took off on their one hour
journey; Namjoon speeding ahead like a bullet, Taehyung and Seokjin taking their sweet ass time,
meandering leisurely on the twisting path, marveling at the orange sun. Stopping to take selfies
when the lighting cooperated to their liking, staging mini photoshoots for one another. “Put your
hand in your pocket, just like that! Now look away, pensively!”
Namjoon had had quite enough, turning around two, three times and yelling for them to keep up
before eventually ditching them entirely. But the pair left behind didn’t seem to mind, finding a
particularly pretty dock jutting out into the water, strolling to the end of it and leaning comfortably
against the railing.
“Selfie?” Taehyung had suggested. To which Seokjin willingly obliged.
They took a picture, a wild and silly thing, both of them mid-laugh, their eyes creased into crescent
moons, apples of their cheeks in high tide, pearly whites so prominent they almost looked stupid.
Taehyung was looking at the camera, but Seokjin was looking at Taehyung.
With a sharp squeak he turned the frame around so that their smiles were no longer in view. I
should replace that photo, he folded his hands underneath his chin, knowing full well that he
couldn’t, that he could never.
The door burst open without warning. He’d forgotten that in this household, with his siblings,
especially Eonjin, he couldn’t count on anyone knocking.
“Oppa, you’re awake?” She sang sweetly, Taehyung turning in his chair and nodding in response.
“Studying?”
“Not really,” he mumbled, switching off his laptop, deeming it a futile effort. Eonjin sauntered over
to his bed on autopilot, tucking herself underneath the covers and claiming it as her own territory.
“Why are you up, kiddo? Everything okay? It’s late.”
“I can’t sleep, that’s why,” she groaned, devastation weighing in her voice.
“And why’s that?”
A shy pause. “Did I ever tell you about Sunwoo?”
“Oh yeah. That guy in your class last year, right? Why, what’s up with him?”
“Oh my god,” she cried in complete agony, burying her face deep into his pillow. “You have no
idea.”
She proceeded to ramble about the Sunwoo kid for nearly an hour, delving into complete,
thorough, unnecessary detail. Explained that he was in fact a good friend of hers, that they’d hung
out in the same group since the beginning of the school year. That the two had danced in that “grey
area” since sometime in the spring, when the cherry blossoms were blooming. That Eonjin had
“tested” him on numerous occasions, to try and gauge what was going on in that “gorgeous head of
his.”
“I even tried putting my hand next to his and he didn’t move away!” She exclaimed, waving her
arms about excitedly.
Sounds like Eonjinnie, Taehyung chuckled to himself.
He figured he should be the responsible older brother and tell her to stop gawking over boys, to
focus on her studies instead, to dish her the hard truth that middle school crushes never amounted
to anything, but he merely listened with practiced patience before finally suggesting, “Why don’t
you just ask him?”
“Are you joking?” She guffawed, sitting upright from the bed then promptly collapsing back into
it. “I’m not brave like you.”
Brave like me?

Night and dawn blended together somewhere in the middle, Eonjin slipping away slowly but surely
to dreamland, words slurring on her tongue, eyelids heavy with sleep. Taehyung remained in his
computer chair, the plastic of it creaking gently as he swiveled back and forth.
“Oppa,” she mumbled. “Jeonggyu and I, we miss you so much, you know that?”
“I know,” he said, the way big brothers do. But he didn’t know.
“This house feels so empty without you,” she continued. “You know *jageun oppa and I fight over
your bed all the time?”
“Oh yeah?” Taehyung broke into a grin. “Who usually wins?”
But she never answered him, small room filled with the sound of her steady breathing instead.
He gathered a spare blanket from his closet and tiptoed to the living room, sprawling his long limbs
across the couch, feet dangling off of the armrest, fingers hanging limp off of the sides. The couch
wasn’t so bad. The leather was cool, and the street lights pouring in from the living room windows
felt like a friend.
He hadn’t known. He hadn’t known that his siblings missed him that much. They’d always asked
him when he’d be coming home, or if he was eating well at university, little things that when
pieced together did sort of sound something like I miss you.
I need to call home more.
But as he tossed and turned from his place on the sofa, watched as moonlight morphed into the
first rays of morning, he wondered if there was anyone else out there that was missing him, if
perhaps they sincerely did, and they just weren’t saying it.
---
It rained, on their drive back to Daegu.
They’d left straight from the joint dinner with their two families; double the noise, double the
cheer. Their parents seemed to click almost instantaneously, the siblings taking a little longer to
warm to one another but all smiles by the end of the affair. There was a certain reluctance to part
when the bill was paid and the separate parties made their way back to their respective vehicles.
“We’ll keep in touch,” Taehyung’s mother called out to Hyungsik’s mother after having exchanged
phone numbers. “Come to our house next weekend!” Hyungsik’s father replied, eyes crinkling at
the corners.
Everyone was so happy.
Another hour before they’d reach the city, typical highway landscape rolling past, the drizzle
following them persistently from beginning till seemingly the end, thick clouds and light mist.
Taehyung needed to pee, so they pulled into a rest area for a bathroom break and picked up some
snacks while they were at it. The scenery wasn’t too shabby either, lush greens against hazy greys.
Hyungsik ran back to his car to grab his film camera and snap some shots of Taehyung. The two of
them didn’t have many pictures together, mostly Hyungsik hoarding photographs of his muse.
The sky darkened considerably by the time they returned to the road, night falling. The squeaking
and thumping of the windshield wipers against the glass made Hyungsik sleepy, so he plugged in
his phone and picked a playlist to keep them company. There came one love song after another,
rosy and warm, Hyungsik’s left hand on the wheel and his right hand intertwined with Taehyung in
the middle.
When the last song ended he lifted Taehyung’s hand from the center console, pressing the back of
it firmly to his lips, lingering there for a while before turning over to his palm, laying more kisses
there, Taehyung watching in quiet awe, unsure of what to do or say, frozen in his seat. A certain
fire brewed inside his belly, flames licking and lighting up his entire being.
And nothing but the sound of rain.
“Why,” he finally mustered, soft and shy.
“I love you so much,” Hyungsik murmured against his skin.
He wondered if Hyungsik could feel it, the way he was burning.

“I’m sorry if it’s too much for you to hear,” Hyungsik continued, thumb stroking idly across
Taehyung’s knuckles, the beginnings of another love song sounding from the stereo. “But it’s just
how I feel, you know? Like I’m going to explode if I keep it in. I love you. It’s so easy to love you.
I’m in love with you.”
Taehyung said nothing. But perhaps for the first time, he wanted to.
“It’s never been this easy before. Always felt like I had to strive, that I had to suffer to make it
work. This is effortless. Like breathing.”
Another kiss, Taehyung shivering under the touch.
“I can’t believe I’m this lucky.” The words kept tumbling out, like a dam being broken. “That I get
to be with you. That you picked me, of all people.”
“I’m lucky too,” the younger whispered.
“I want more. Am I being greedy?” He laughed. “I want to do more with you. I want to do life with
you.” A pause, the words bearing a certain gravity that beckoned serious consideration. “You don’t
have to answer. But I hope you want the same things, too.”
And Taehyung never answered; not audibly, at least. But when Hyungsik diverted his eyes from
the long stretch of road, as he watched a smile bloom like flowers across Taehyung’s lips, he knew
that the word “lucky” no longer sufficed.
Chapter End Notes
I told you it was long.
Couple things.
Yes, Tae's reppin the demisexual community.
I recently found out that Little Star by Standing Egg is like Vmin's anthem, haha. If
you can't tell already I'm crazy about Jimin and I love writing about him. For both the
Vmin and Jinjikook scenes I feel that this song suits the mood well. Feel free to read
and listen.
The flashback scene with Kim line playing hooky by the Han River...specifically the
part where Taejin go out to the dock and take pictures...that was written with a "Don't
Forget" crossover in mind. For those of you that haven't read it, it's my super sad
Taejin one-shot and the first fic I published here. Forgive me, it's past 4AM and I'm
delirious right now, I'll probably have to come back and edit this mess. But can you
imagine AOML high school Taejin fooling around on the dock, and Don't Forget
Taejin having their first meeting right next to them? Worlds colliding. Are aliens real?
I don't know. Been thinking a lot about parallel universes lately.
Oh near the end Tae's sister mentions "jageun" oppa. Since she has two older brothers,
Taehyung being the first child, he's "keun" oppa, aka the oldest oppa. Jeonggyu is the
younger oppa, aka the "jageun." Does that make sense. Idk.
Regarding Jikook, I'm hoping some of you can pick up on their true intentions for
going to Seokjin's place in the middle of the night. The answer is not as simple as
brunch. Also hoping you guys can understand what the rain means at the end.
Next chapters won't be as long and will have more...movement. Hopefully I'll also
update quicker than a whole month. In light of recent events this story kind of took a
backburner, hope you understand.
Please let me know what you think, I cherish your comments so much and it's truly
what keeps me going. I need fuel, I am running on empty. Love y'all.
Chapter Notes
Thank you for your patience. :) This chapter contains recreational drug use.
[ ♪ Lost Dreams ]
---
He was walking in a city that he knew to be Seoul but looked nothing like it. Streets wide and
spotless, his surroundings so quiet he could hear the wind whistling past his ears, his own
breathing as he traversed forward, a bit labored but nevertheless steady. He was traveling with
purpose, as if he had a clear destination despite not having a clue as to where his feet were taking
him. A sky so piercingly blue that it hurt to look at it. The people passing on the sidewalk mere
shadows, translucent like wisps of smoke, but Taehyung didn’t question it. This was all normal.
This was how the world had always been.
He was walking into Seoul station, except it looked nothing like Seoul station. Ancient ruin; aging
stucco, chipped tiles. Towering stone steps leading to an open-aired lobby, its ceilings high like a
cathedral, every corner of the building utterly abandoned, only his footsteps echoing loudly
throughout its empty halls. At the end of the tunnel, a wide platform set in front of a backdrop of
greenery, lush trees swaying in the breeze — was it summer? Summer breeze. The unmistakable
chorus of birdsong; by the sound of it there were hundreds of them, hidden amongst the foliage.
Were they waiting for him?
Someone was. One lone figure stood in the center of the platform, back facing Taehyung, his
frame unmoving, head cast downwards, shoulders relaxed into a position of patience. As if he’d
been standing there for a long time and was used to passing the time on his own.
Taehyung halted in his tracks, and the person turned to look at him.
Seokjin was smiling at him over his shoulder.
Words failed him as he carefully inched forward, eventually coming to a full stop directly across
from the boy, studying the look of him, the pristine whiteness of his button-down shirt, not a single
wrinkle or crease to be found, his shoes so unblemished it must’ve been his first time wearing
them. With a trembling hand he raised his palm to Seokjin’s cheek, Seokjin closing his eyes upon
contact and leaning into the touch. His skin was warm, pulsing, alive. And when he opened his
eyes again, a familiar weariness.
“Are you real?” Taehyung finally mustered.
Seokjin didn’t answer, another gentle uptick at the corners of his lips, something meant to be
reassuring albeit with a hint of sadness. The smile wasn’t real, he knew that much.
He didn’t push him further for a reply, his hand shifting from the boy’s face to trail down his jaw,
neck, pausing to rub at the stiff collar of his shirt before resting against Seokjin’s chest, pressing
firmly against his heart, feeling a small but certain heartbeat; steady, unhurried, sure. As if he’d
made up his mind. It didn’t feel right.
“Seokjin-ah. Talk to me.”
To which Seokjin gently placed his own hand over Taehyung’s, fingers loosely weaving together.
“What’s wrong?”
Everything seemed perfect. A white, mid-day sun shining just enough to bake the earth; cloudless,
azure sky. The smell of honeysuckle hanging in the air, definitely unusual, particularly in the
middle of the city. But something was off; Taehyung was sure of this much, and it terrified him.
With a hint of reluctance Seokjin removed their interlocked hands from his chest, bringing them
down to waist level so that their arms hung limply in the middle, Seokjin’s gaze fixed upon said
hands, thumb stroking tender and slow over Taehyung’s knuckles and valleys, grip loose but
holding on as if he didn’t want to let go. Taehyung watched him for a long while, questions sitting
at the tip of his tongue yet refusing to spill forth. He could’ve lost track of time if Seokjin hadn’t
released him so abruptly, Taehyung’s head snapping up in confusion as Seokjin began pacing away
from him, urgently, eventually speeding up into a light jog.
There was a train coming.

It was a silent monstrosity, a long and sleek locomotive pulling into the station, no squeak of the
wheels, no horns or fanfare. Static. Before Taehyung could register what was happening the train
had come to a halt, a door sliding open soundlessly, Seokjin stepping off of the platform’s edge
and disappearing within.
“WAIT.”
There were no other passengers visible through the windows. An empty and hollow vessel with
one lone traveler going to god knows where. It was too late, by the time Taehyung gathered his
senses and started running for the train, the door promptly sealing shut and locking with a click,
merciless.
And just as quickly as it had come the train began moving again, this time radio silence growing
into a thunderous roar of engine and exhaust, wheels rumbling noisily against steel tracks, the
ground underneath Taehyung’s feet shaking.
He knew it was useless, running after the thing, but he did anyway. Ran until his lungs filled with
air, sharp and biting, everything hurting. He couldn’t breathe. But still he screamed Seokjin’s name
until his voice grew hoarse, until it no longer sounded like a word.
From a tiny window of the train’s last car he could see the back of Seokjin’s head. But he never
turned around to look back at him. He was going, going, and then he was gone.
---
“Wake up, baby.”
He did, gasping for air, throat afire as the room oriented into view. Forehead slicked with a sheen
of sweat, sheets clinging to him, suffocating. Body shivering. Hot and cold all at once. He took a
steadying breath as his eyes focused upon a familiar window, Hyungsik’s navy pleated curtains
layered with a fine coat of dust.
Just a dream. It was just a dream.
“It was just a dream,” he heard a voice echo softly from behind, Taehyung turning onto his side to
face Hyungsik, whose hand glided up and down the length of his arm, soothing him, bringing him
back down to solid ground. A wave of relief coupled with a tinge of disappointment.
“Oh good,” Taehyung murmured, barely audible. “Good.”
“Breathe with me. That’s it. In, out. In, out.”
“Okay. Okay.”
“Count down from a hundred. Think about beautiful things.”
“Okay.”
He followed the elder’s instructions obediently, taking practiced, measured breaths, chest rising
and falling like evening tide. One hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight, ninety seven. Eventually
snuggled closer so that his forehead pressed against Hyungsik’s sternum, comforting scent of
vanilla enveloping him — forty three, forty two, forty one — as strong arms wrapped around his
back, steady palms traveling up and down his spine.
Twenty six, twenty five, twenty four. Breathe.
The shoreline of Jeju under moonlight, fire crackling in the wood.
Ten, nine, eight, breathe, seven.
Cold winter air. The scent of fresh snow.
Six, breathe, five, four, three.
Showers of cherry blossoms.
Two, one.
Breathe. Let it go.
And then, somewhere on the cusp of dreamland and reality: “I love you.”
The hand on his back froze in its place, Hyungsik’s muscles tensing with a twitch, his even
breathing catching in his throat, Taehyung stirring from his reverie upon grasping the weight of his
own words. It sort of slipped out as a whisper, but there was no mistaking that he’d said it, no way
he could disguise it as anything else. They lay intertwined in the quiet for a long while, Hyungsik
suddenly stiff as a board and Taehyung curled up meekly against him, face hidden from view.
“Hm?” Hyungsik finally hummed, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance but failing miserably.
If he’d said it without realizing it, then he must’ve meant it.
This time he pulled away so that he lifted his head, looking straight into Hyungsik’s eyes with
renewed courage. “I said I love you,” he repeated, also feigning a sense of indifference. “Why,
what’s up?”
And in a mad rush of relief and release, Hyungsik broke into a grin, eyes crinkling earnestly at the
corners. “I love you too, silly.”
He leaned forward to close the gap between them, tender pecks that quickly yielded to parted
mouths and warm tongues, Taehyung pressing forward and deepening the kiss with a hunger he
hadn’t possessed before, Hyungsik welcoming the change and reciprocating just as eagerly. Shirts
came off, skin on skin, hands began to wander, soft moans puncturing early dawn. More breathless
‘I love you’s exchanged, and then they were making love, too.
Light of the next morning trickled in through the glass when all was said and done, faint birdsong
blooming and lulling them back to sleep. It was autumn, not summer. The leaves were yellowing
and the days were getting shorter, nights growing longer. He could feel the weight of Hyungsik’s
arm draped around his waist, the steady rise and fall of his chest against his back.
He watched the brown sparrows flitting about outside his window, flying free, and he wondered
why he’d dreamt of summer instead.
---
He’d always underestimated the warmth of Busan in the fall, Seokjin stripping off his sweater
minutes after stepping out of the airport and into the southern sun. He watched as Seokjung did the
same thing, unzipping his hoodie and tossing it over his shoulder. Jia had already removed her
sweatshirt, tying it around her waist.
Times like these were rare; when both Mr. Kim and Mr. Lee were free from business obligations,
when all of the kids had relatively light coursework. It was Jia’s mother who had suggested the
joint weekend getaway to Busan, both parties enthusiastically buying into the idea, even Seokjin,
who recalled with a chuckle how miserable he’d been the first time he traveled to Busan with Jia.
He no longer minded her company, especially now that Seokjung was in tow.
Their drivers escorted the families to two shiny SUVs idling on the curb, loading their weekend
bags into the trunks as the Kims and Lees piled into their respective vehicles.
They spent the better half of the day at Taejongdae Park, hiking through pine-laden trails,
marveling at the sea from their vantage point atop jagged cliffs. In the evening they returned to
Haeundae, settling on a pricey seafood restaurant in Marine City overlooking the Gwangan Bridge.
Eventually the families returned to the Lee’s decadent vacation home, the parents busting out hard
liquor and the karaoke machine, the ‘kids’ taking it as a strong cue to get out while they could.
The three of them loitered in the building’s opulent lobby, sneakers scuffing against the floor, the
intermittent squeaking of rubber on tile puncturing their conversation. After about ten minutes of
waiting a modest looking sedan pulled up to the front entrance, Seokjung breaking into a grin and
leading them towards said car.
“Hyung!” Seokjung cried as the window rolled down, their eldest cousin Changmin coming into
view.
“Hi hyung,” Seokjin acknowledged with a slight bow.
The younger ones piled into the backseat, Seokjung climbing into the front passenger seat and
greeting Changmin with an affable clap and hug combo. “Missed you, man,” Changmin mumbled,
ruffling Seokjung’s hair with affection.
With practiced eased Changmin maneuvered through Busan’s city streets, passing a medley of
sleepy storefronts and slumbering high rises, gentle lo-fi music oozing from the sound system, the
two older boys chatting up a storm in the front, leaving Seokjin and Jia to gaze out of the open
windows at the various night views. Their vehicle traversed across two bridges, water black
beneath the glittering structures, smell of salt wafting in, engulfing them. It was a pleasant change
from Seoul.
“Why are we driving so far south when we were right by the beach?” Seokjung questioned.
“Haeundae is janky. I’m showing you guys the good stuff.”
“Dadaepo?” Seokjung guessed.
“Correct.”
About thirty minutes later their car reached the very southwestern tip of the city, Changmin
parking on the side street of a quiet residential block and leading the way towards the actual beach.
The temperature had dropped considerably from earlier that day, Seokjin wrapping his arms tighter
around himself to retain warmth.
He could see up ahead a long stretch of sand and beyond it a vast and dark ocean, the sound of
crashing waves growing louder and louder as they neared. Shadows of mountains loomed in the
distance, lights of small boats flashing from the horizon, but other than that not a single soul in
sight, much unlike the touristy crowds of Haeundae. Finding a suitable spot in the middle of the
deserted landscape, Changmin laid out a tattered blanket, urging Seokjin and Jia to sit while he
dragged Seokjung off to a nearby convenience store. They returned a short while later with
helpings of ramen and beer, Seokjin’s grumbling stomach doing small flips of joy at the sight of it.
The portions at dinner had been meager, pretentious at best. How his heart sang at the promise of
real food.
They scarfed down the ramen and beer fairly quickly, Seokjung releasing a sigh of satisfaction
after draining the last of the salty broth.
“Oppa, the soup’s so bad for you,” Jia scolded, discarding the rest of her container into a plastic
bag.
“Speaking of bad-” Changmin fumbled around in his coat pocket until he procured a crumpled
ziplock and a lighter. “I almost forgot. Probably should’ve done this before we ate, huh?” Seokjung
seemed to understand almost immediately, breaking into a hearty cackle followed by a shake of his
head. The younger two didn’t catch on quite as quickly.
“Well, not bad ,” Changmin continued, jostling the contents inside the bag with a sizable smirk.
“It’s good. The good stuff. Like I said, I’ll only show you the good stuff.”
“What is that?” Jia muttered, leaning forward and peering at the items with interest.
“Cigarettes?” Seokjin guessed innocently.
“They’re crazy about this overseas,” the eldest hinted. “Might as well call me a foreigner at this
point.”
A small lightbulb flickered on in Seokjin’s head. “Is that…”
“Weed, yeah.”
His whole body tensed at the confirmation, the night air suddenly numbing as he watched
Changmin pull out a perfectly rolled joint and admire it with pride. He’d never seen weed in
person, let alone known anyone that had access to it. Namjoon was an anomaly; apparently Yale
parties reeked of the drug. But Korea was a whole different ball game — he knew a guy, who
knew another guy who’d carried maybe just a measly gram of it on him and was interrogated and
subsequently arrested by police.
A bright orange flame met the end of the blunt, Changmin tucking away the lighter then taking a
leisurely puff, a cloud of smoke seeping from his lips, then quickly carried away by the wind. The
stench of it was inexplicably distinct, like nothing Seokjin had ever smelled before. Skunky.
Paralyzed in his place, he fixed his gaze on his cousin who at the moment was passing the joint off
to Seokjung, who took a lengthy inhale without a moment’s hesitation.
“Don’t look so scared, Seokjin-ah,” his brother soothed. “No one’s here. Doubt anyone would
know what it is anyway.”
“Isn’t it super bad for you?” Jia piped up, voice laced with awe.
To which Changmin chuckled. “That beer you just had is more dangerous, believe it or not.”
“What does it feel like, being high?”
“Well, if you have a good high, it makes you relaxed,” Changmin explained. Seokjin’s ears perked
at the word “relaxed,” the prospect of being in said state incredibly enticing. “Personally I get a
little chatty.”
“It makes me giggly,” Seokjung added, which seemed to spark a certain fire within Jia.
“I want to try.”
“NO,” Seokjung objected immediately. “None for you two.”
“WHAT?” She whined in protest, rising onto a kneeling position as if ready to fight. “That’s not
fair, so you guys get to have all the fun and we just sit on the side and watch?”
“Seokjung-ah, why not?” Changmin agreed with Jia. “They’re in a safe environment here. Better
for them to try it with us than somewhere else.” He spoke of the younger two as if they were
children, making Seokjin want to puff up his chest and remind them that they were both adults too,
thank you very much.
“Yeah but hyung, what if they get a bad high?”
“Then we’ll be right here for them. We’ll help them come down from it. It’s fine.”
“Yeah we’ll be fine!” Jia echoed, practically bouncing on her heels.
To which his older brother relented with a sigh. “Fine.” He eyed Seokjin warily before clearing his
throat. “It’s not good to take this when you’re anxious. You guys feeling okay? Feeling good?”
“Yes, yes, let’s get on with it.”

Seokjin nodded wordlessly.
Wagging his finger for the two to come closer, they scooted forward on their bums until they were
huddled together in a tight circle, Changmin gently coaching them on technique, narrating and
mimicking the action. “Take a draw, bring it down, hold it, good. Now exhale.” She sputtered
ungracefully on her first attempt, nevertheless earning a congratulatory pat on the back.
He wasn’t sure if nervousness and anxiety were one in the same, for he certainly felt a great deal of
the former; despite the beach remaining utterly abandoned, he had a natural tendency to fear for the
worst. Yet at the same time he wasn’t sure when he’d be presented with such an opportunity again,
and he’d be lying if he said curiosity hadn’t gotten the best of him.
His first inhale, exhale was nearly flawless, Seokjin masking the shock to his system with forced
grace and poise. “Whoa,” he mumbled softly as the smoke cleared.
“Don’t think about getting high,” Changmin explained. “Don’t wait for the high. Just let go and let
it happen.”
The four of them continued to chit-chat whilst ceremoniously passing the blunt around in a circle.
By the time they reached the end of it Jia seemed to be feeling its effects, the girl falling onto her
back, hands covering her face as her shoulders shook with giggles. “Stop it,” Seokjin chided, giving
her a light slap on the arm. But if anything his gesture seemed to make it worse, Jia’s laugh turning
into something of a honk, a shower of sand nearly flying into her mouth as she flailed about on the
ground.
“I swear I don’t know what’s wrong with me but this whole thing is so funny, I-”
“Literally nothing is happening,” Seokjin replied matter-of-factly. “It’s just you laughing.” Which
only added fuel to the fire.
“I’m sorry,” she wheezed, scrambling to her feet without so much as a warning. “I need to get out
of here, I feel crazy,” she cackled, tearing off her shoes and promptly sprinting towards the ocean.
“Oh what the fuck,” Seokjung mumbled, he too leaping into an upright position and chasing after
her with urgency. Moments later, an unmistakable splash as she made contact with the water,
Seokjung’s cry of agony shortly ensuing, along with a second splash as he too joined her in the
shallows.
“She’s a wild thing, that one,” Changmin chuckled, taking advantage of their newfound space and
easing onto his back. Seokjin followed suit.
“I kinda wanna go in the ocean, too.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Seokjin hummed, too tired to come up with a good reason. “I don’t know.”
“Feel anything yet?”
“Nah. Do you?”
“Yeah, a little,” Changmin nodded, albeit without any change in demeanor. “A lot of first timers
don’t feel anything, so don’t stress if that’s the case for you.”
“Thanks hyung. I’ll keep that in mind.”
A pleasant silence lingered between them before the elder was speaking again. “I don’t think I’ve
ever seen your brother this happy before.”
From somewhere in the waves they could hear the sound of Jia’s shrieks, Seokjung’s laughter.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s cause you’re here, I think.”
Seokjin cocked his head to the side, doubtful.

“You don’t think so?” Changmin pressed. “I think so. Whenever he visits me on his own he’s
always this sullen, grumpy, old cat. He seems much happier this time.”
“Maybe.”
“You remember how your brother came to live with my family for five years?”
“Right, yeah.”
“I know he’d never tell you, but do you know how much that kid cried? My god, he missed home
so much.”
Seokjin’s eyes widened in surprise. Seokjung had never once mentioned his homesickness.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Especially you, kiddo.”
Not a clue.
“And it’s tough too, ‘cause when you’re a kid and you miss someone, there’s not much you can do.
He’d wait by the phone like a puppy, but the thing is your parents didn’t call him very often. Sad
little guy, he was. Always crying. Cried so much it hurt my ears but kind of broke my heart, too.
He’d ask the same question over and over again, ‘When are they coming back? Where is Seokjin?
Why am I here?’ But it’s not like we had good answers for him.”
“I had no idea.”
“The good thing is, my mom’s super loud, warm, affectionate. Typical strong Busan woman. She
really brought Seokjung out of his shell. Gave him lots of cuddles and kisses, spoiled him rotten.
Sometimes I’d get jealous of him as if he was my real brother,” Changmin grinned. “So in the end,
when your parents finally did come to pick him up five years later, he suddenly didn’t want to
leave. He’d made a life for himself here, you know? All his friends at school, the neighbors he’d
ride bikes with…he loved the ocean. We used to bike out here a lot, he and I. And then boom, in an
instant he was uprooted again, and he had to start all over from square one.”
Seokjin tried to recall what it was like, the day Seokjung returned home to Seoul from Busan. The
memory had faded to practically nothing.
“I know he might have trouble expressing to you that he cares,” Changmin continued. “But that’s
because he literally doesn’t know how to. He was too confused as a kid. Never really learned how
to be an older brother. He was the baby in our family, after all. I was the one taking care of him.”
“Thank you, hyung. For everything.”
“What’s family for?” Changmin waved it off. “It’s funny. Even though my mom and Seokjung
aren’t biologically related, it certainly felt that way. Yeah, I don’t know. I think seeing your brother
with my mom made me realize that family isn’t blood, it’s who you’d bleed for.”
It’s who you’d bleed for. Seokjin furrowed his brow, his mind grappling with the weight of those
words. Who do I bleed for?
Who would bleed for me?
“You feeling it yet?”
Still nothing. He shook his head.
“That’s fine,” Changmin assured, crossing his arms behind his head and tilting his head up towards
the sky. “Anyway. I don’t know how else to say it, but I do worry for you, Seokjin.”
“Oh? Why, hyung?”
“I don’t know. Just…Seokjung tells me things sometimes.”

“Like what things?”
“Nothing specific, don’t worry. He doesn’t like talking about himself so he just ends up talking
about you. Just says that…says you’ve got a lot on your plate. That you’re going through a hard
time because of it.”
He felt a sudden uprising blossoming from within his chest, his heart swelling painfully, Seokjin
taking a steadying breath to press it all down. It was no secret, the kind of mistreatment Seokjung
received in their seemingly picture perfect household, the flagrant disregard of his very existence,
the thought of such injustice causing Seokjin’s blood to flare and boil. Yet despite his own
harrowing hardships, Seokjung still managed to see through to Seokjin’s hidden pain.
“Lots of people have it harder,” Seokjin finally mustered, fighting back against the surge of
emotion with reason.
“Okay, but that’s other people. We’re talking about you.”
“Well then yeah,” Seokjin admitted. “I’m having a hard time.”
“Do you want to talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t.”
A lengthy pause, crashing waves and distant cars. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Seokjin began,
eyes coming to a close, world dissolving to black. “Ones that I’m not proud of, that I can never
shake. And lately…lately I feel like I’m finally doing the right thing. Like I’m on the track, I’m
going in the right direction but…” He hated saying it out loud. “I feel so alone.”
“Cryptic,” Changmin nodded, trying to make sense of Seokjin’s predicament. “I don’t think I fully
understand. Do you want to go into detail?”
Seokjin shook his head.
“Okay, fair. But at the very least you don’t have to go through it alone, you know that right? You
have a lot of really good people in your life. There’s something about you, Seokjin. People are
drawn to you. Look at Seokjung, Jia. Your friends, too. I heard you’ve got a lot of great friends that
would bend over backwards for you. Not everyone can say that. Open up to them, you know? Let
them be there for you.”
It was true, everything Changmin was saying, how many of the relationships he’d formed in life
thus far were rather serendipitous, like little stars aligning just for him. To be loved so fervently
when he felt he didn’t deserve it; by Jimin, the rest of the boys. Taehyung. He didn’t want to dwell
on that for too long. Even the whole arrangement with Jia; he despised thinking about their future
and avoided it at all costs, their imminent reality stirring within him something sick and dreadful.
But at the present moment; him laying on a quiet beach in Busan autumn, her frolicking mindlessly
in midnight low tide, it wasn’t all that bad.
“And you know, whenever you’re having a hard time you can always come down here and find
me, right?” His voice sounded far away, like Seokjin had dived headfirst into a fish tank.
“Thanks hyung,” he murmured, words slurring, eyelids heavy.
“Feeling it?”
He breathed in, out. Air filling his lungs. Alive. He felt alive. Only a sheepish chuckle managed to
escape from his lips. Changmin took that as a firm ‘yes.’
“Look at the moon.”
He might’ve been tripping, he still couldn’t be sure. But when he looked up at the sky it was like
seeing the moon for the first time, its pale glow casting a spotlight on the dark water below, a
kaleidoscope of light and movement so that he couldn’t tell where the ocean ended and heaven
began. Like thousands of tiny diamonds scattered across the sea. He wondered how diamonds
would feel against his skin.
“It looks crazy.”
“You wanna go closer?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.”
They abandoned their little blanket and walked closer to the shore, Seokjin in a daze; footsteps
light, out of body. Somewhere in the process he’d slipped off his shoes, the sand underneath his
toes cold and wet but not at all unpleasant, almost inviting. They lowered themselves once they
reached the water’s edge, enough so that the waves occasionally licked at their feet. It knocked the
breath right out of him.
So this is what it felt like, diamonds. He craned his neck up at the moon and for the first time in his
life felt indebted to it, how it loved the earth so much that it showered it with jewels. He’d always
thought of the moon as a pale, sad, lonely thing, skulking about at night and withering away upon
day, but now it felt like something magical, made him believe that someday he could be beautiful,
too.
He rubbed at his eyes and saw stars, real ones. Heard the sound of Seokjung and Jia’s laughter
floating in from another universe.
---
He couldn’t concentrate. It didn’t help that his professor’s voice had a drone-like quality to it,
utterly monotone and perfect for hypnosis, Taehyung drifting in and out of focus, late afternoon
filtering in through the lofty windows and casting everything in a golden haze.
He wanted to sleep. To go back to that sacred place; empty platform, honeysuckle summer. He’d
revisited the dream so many times that he’d memorized every facet of it; the color scheme of the
tiles beneath his feet, the perfume of flowers, the outline of Seokjin’s silhouette against a backdrop
of brilliant light.
He liked to dream up different endings, an endless slew of “what if’s” playing out in hundreds of
different scenarios. Most of which involved Taehyung snapping out of it sooner, of him realizing
what was happening before it actually did. Of him catching up to Seokjin in time, holding him
back, pride in the dirt, arms wrapped around his waist, chest to his back, breathing in unison.
The train would be sent away, rendered useless. And Seokjin would turn in his place to hold
Taehyung tight, the two standing still in the warmth of the sun. Taehyung wouldn’t ask any more
questions, wouldn’t push, would’t pry. Seokjin would be safe. He wouldn’t be sad.
A shrill sound of a bell plucked him out of his reverie, Taehyung gathering his books in a hurry and
slipping out of the musty lecture hall. University had flown by at an unprecedented speed, last
semester of junior year finally in full swing. By the beginning of next year he’d be a full fledged
senior. Half the time when he looked in the mirror he still saw a kid peering back at him.
He followed the masses of students all heading for the exit, Taehyung glancing at his phone and
spotting an incoming message from Hyungsik.
Hyungsik: Wait outside for me. I’ll be there in 10 :)
To which Taehyung tapped out a lengthy reply of varying heart emojis, pressing “send” with a self-
satisfied smile.
The doors of the building burst open like a dam, students flowing out of it and down the large
stone steps. It was as Taehyung descended said steps that a memory gripped him in a stronghold,
the boy coming to an abrupt halt and causing those behind him to dodge out of the way to avoid
knocking into him. Two and a half years had passed, yet the vision of Seokjin waiting on the
sidewalk outside of this very building remained as vivid as if it’d happened yesterday.
He side-stepped off of the main path to lean against the rough brick, mind muddled with a cloud of
thoughts, fingers absentmindedly toying with the phone in his hand. It’d been a long, long time
since he’d spoken to Seokjin. Aside from lackluster exchanges within the group chat, no real one-
on-one conversation since the beginning of summer. Jimin had said time and distance would heal
old wounds, that it’d do all of the forgetting on his behalf. Apparently even Jimin could be wrong.
Perhaps the only way to make peace with a ghost was to face it.
With a rush of impulse he unlocked his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found
Seokjin’s name, pressing the green button without giving it a second thought. The dial tone barely
rang once when a familiar voice called out his name from afar, Taehyung dropping the phone to
his side and simultaneously hanging up with a click of the red.
Hyungsik was running towards him.
“Hey baby,” he gushed breathlessly, meeting Taehyung with an all-encompassing hug.
“Hi.”
“Ready to go?”
“Been ready.”
---
He swore he wasn’t seeing things, that he hadn’t gone rightly insane. Taehyung’s name definitely
just flashed across his screen; for a millisecond, sure, but it’d been there nonetheless. As quickly as
the call had come, it was gone.
“Seokjin, are you listening?” He could hear Sungmin beckoning from his side. “Earth to Jin?”
Seokjin glanced up from his device with a rather dazed expression.
“Hm?”
“We asked you three times just now,” his friend chuckled, amused. Their little group paused in
their tracks, lingering on the tall steps of the library, under an orange pool of lamplight.
“I uh…” He furrowed his brow, trying to remember the conversation at hand but floundering
deplorably, his mind reeling in another dimension, Seokjin desperately trying to rein it back in. “I-
I’m sorry, what?”
They’d asked him what he’d rather have for dinner: hotpot or lamb skewers. When in fact Seokjin
found he no longer had any appetite at all.
Chapter End Notes
This chapter strikes a personal chord with me, as I've dabbled with weed and walked
away with largely negative experiences - my anxiety always gets in the way.
Nevertheless I think experimentation plays a large part in coming of age and felt it was
necessary to show Seokjin trying new things.
The next chapter is sort of a big moment, one of the first scenes I imagined when the
bare bones of this story were being formed.
Please let me know what you think in the comments. Don't be a silent reader! Even if
all you have to say is "AHHHHH" it's extremely encouraging for me, haha.
Take care and until next time!

Chapter Notes
T/W: Internalized homophobia.
He was drumming on Seokjin’s leg to the beat of a song, its rhythm indecipherable but steadily
increasing in intensity, until the slaps verged on painful and he had to quietly pry Jungkook’s hand
away from the tender spot on his knee. Within seconds the hand returned, Jungkook resuming his
mindless tapping, eyes fixed on the blurry blues and golds rushing past the bus window.
“It hurts,” Seokjin finally whispered, Jungkook snapping out of his trance and flashing him a
sheepish grin.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, opting to jiggle his own leg instead. “Got a lot of pent up energy.”
It was understandable as to why Jungkook was currently bubbling over with excitement; even more
than usual, which was already overwhelming. He was the last of their friend group to be
relinquished from the throes of junior year, having just completed his final exam mere hours
earlier. To celebrate, per Jimin’s insistence, the three of them would spend the remainder of the
evening decorating the Park-Jeon household, first picking up supplies at the newest holiday-
themed store in Itaewon then lugging all of their findings back to their apartment in Hongdae.
They’d asked him if he was planning on sprucing up his own place, to which Seokjin shook his
head with a resolute no. When asked “why not,” he gave the excuse of not wanting the hassle of
taking everything down. “I get it,” Jimin had relented with a shrug of the shoulders. Yet when they
arrived at the store and began rifling through the merchandise, it was hard to miss the small nudges
from Jimin to “just get one string of lights” or “look at this TINY snowman, how cute would this
be in your kitchen?”
Jungkook tore down the length of the aisles like a tornado, purposely grabbing the most heinous
products on display and tossing them into the cart with a proud cackle, Jimin promptly removing
said items and placing them back from whence they came. “We gotta stick with a THEME,” he
chastised. “This is an INVESTMENT. We can’t just mix gold and silver with red and green we
have to THINK-”
“ALL THE COLORS!” Jungkook screeched, dumping a cotton candy machine into the cart with
gusto, no rhyme or reason.
They ended up buying the machine. Because why not.
It was as they stood in line for checkout that Jimin spotted it out of the corner of his eye; a
Christmas tree no higher than one foot tall, pre-lit with an array of miniature rainbow bulbs, a very
attractive price tag of 17,000 won slapped onto the box.
“Please,” Jimin deplored of Seokjin. “Buy this. Just this one thing. So when I visit your place it
won’t be so depressing. For me.” And then he busted out the puppy-dog eyes and that tragic little
pout, Seokjin quickly waving a white flag of surrender.
Their bags were too bulky for the bus, so they shared a taxi back to Hongdae instead, hauling
everything up the dreaded flight of stairs and collapsing in a heap on their living room floor.
Within minutes they were clamoring onto their feet, Jimin assigning tasks to each of them with
characteristic efficiency. Jungkook was to set up the tree, fasten every ornament and bauble to their
rightful branch. Seokjin and Jimin would tackle the rest of the space, hang up the stringed lights
and garlands, beautify the windows with decals and figurines. The duo managed to finish their
tasks just as Jungkook climbed atop a chair to christen the tree with a glittery star.
“How did I do?” The boy beamed, stepping back from his handiwork, chest puffed with pride.
It took a minute for Jimin to register what’d gone awry, but upon realizing the mistake he promptly
toppled against Jungkook’s frame, overcome with a fit of exasperated giggles.
“Sweetie,” he wheezed, leading Jungkook to the back of the tree facing windowside, completely
barren. “Why.”
“Oh,” Jungkook furrowed his brow in genuine confusion. “But no one’s going to see that side-”
“Except the entire neighborhood of Hongdae!” Jimin squawked.
The three of them worked together to rearrange the ornaments, making certain every inch of the
tree was evenly covered before turning down all of the ceiling lights, only the holiday glow left to
illuminate the dark. Even Seokjin found himself just a tad breathless; their slipshod home now
dripping in gold, tasteful accents of red, everything regal.
They rewarded their hard work with a movie to cap off the night, Jimin brewing three cups of
celebratory hot chocolate for the occasion, settling in between Jungkook and Seokjin on the couch
as the cheesy opening montage of “Love Actually” began playing. All of them had seen the film
multiple times prior, but that didn’t stop Jungkook from choking up at the scene where the little kid
races through Heathrow airport, leaping past security to bid a final goodbye to the love of his life.
“Why are you crying?” Jimin doubled into giggles once more. “Young love,” Jungkook
whimpered.
By the time the end credits were rolling, Jungkook was passed out cold, soft snores sounding from
his gaping mouth, Jimin tossing a throw blanket over his shoulders with an endeared sigh. He then
scrolled through his phone until he found a lengthy “Yule log” video on Youtube, syncing it up to
the television so that the screen seemingly crackled to life, like a real flame on a hearth. Soft
Christmas music crooned gently in the background.
“This is nice,” Seokjin murmured, settling into a place of contentment.
“I know right?”
They sat largely in silence as the “fire” cast their surroundings in a flush of tangerine, Seokjin
absentmindedly pulling at the stray threads of the cushion in his arms, Jimin’s head rolling back so
that it rested comfortably on Seokjin’s shoulder. For a long while neither of them spoke, happy to
simply exist with one another. And then a particular song came on, and suddenly Jimin was easing
up in his seat, brimming with a new energy.
“I want to dance.”
Seokjin chuckled, eyes fluttering to a close as he pondered the hour. “You’re always ready for the
club.”
“No, not the club. Like now.”
“What do you mean, now.”
“Like NOW,” Jimin stood up for emphasis, petite frame erect, hand outstretched, waiting for
Seokjin to take it.
“Absolutely not.”
“Absolutely YES.”
The next thing he knew he was being tugged onto his feet and off of the couch, Jimin yanking him
forward to grab him by the waist, his other hand clasping around Seokjin’s so that they were, as
Jimin had so desired, dancing.
“I hate this,” Seokjin protested, body going limp but Jimin holding it upright with surprising
strength.
“This is my favorite song!” Jimin cried, struggling against Seokjin’s spaghetti limbs as Have
Yourself A Merry Little Christmas hummed sweetly in the background.
“This is STUPID-”
“PLEASE!” Jimin whined, aegyo mode fully on and lethal. “Just ONE dance, it’s CHRISTMAS.”
He’d lost the battle before it even began.
“Okay. One, just one.”
“Promise.”
“Fine.”
The orange of the fire, the gold of the lights, all of it kissing Jimin’s pretty cheeks as he sang
silently along to the words, “Have yourself a merry little Christmas.” A giggle. “Let your heart be
light.”
From now on your troubles will be out of sight.

“Twirl me, Jin.”
A heavy sigh before he thrust Jimin away from him, lifting up their conjoined arms so that Jimin
could twirl as he pleased before being reeled back in. “Dip me, dip me!” He urged seconds later,
Seokjin complying this time with a hefty eye roll, arm supporting the small of Jimin’s back as he
dipped him towards the ground, nearly dropping him in the process. It was a Christmas miracle
that Jungkook didn’t wake from his slumber from the sheer amount of noise they were making, the
boy rolling onto his side with a grunt, nose burrowed firmly into the back of the couch.
But it was difficult to maintain a guise of annoyance when Jimin was grinning back at him with
such unadulterated joy it made his grinch heart melt rightly into putty. Seokjin couldn’t help but
smile back.
“Not so stupid now, is it?”
The room quieted considerably as they abandoned their antics and chose to sway in their spot
instead, Seokjin purposely dodging the question, only the slightest uptick at the corners of his
mouth as any indication of an answer.
“Have you ever slow-danced with anyone before?” Jimin continued, curious eyes trained on
Seokjin’s placid expression.
Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
He thought back to the smattering of times he’d danced in his life and realized he could probably
count them all on one hand. That night with Taehyung at the club? Debatable. Or the company
anniversary dinner with Jia? Definitely.
“Yes.”
Jimin nodded in acknowledgement before he broke into a grin, eyes blooming into crescent moons.
“You’re my first.”
There was something about the way he’d said it that caused Seokjin’s heart to collapse in on itself.
Suddenly the moment no longer felt silly, but sacred, the lines in his expression softening
considerably.
“It’s an honor,” he murmured.
And Jimin could feel it too, the subtle shift in mood, prompting the boy to shuffle closer until the
two were chest to chest, eventually nestling his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Hair tickling his cheek,
orange blossom and hot chocolate, so much warmth for a tiny body. There were moments like this
where Seokjin would feel overwhelmed by his love for Jimin, where he wanted to hold him
forever, protect him from all of the bad things.
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
When the song faded into another, Jimin finally peered up at Seokjin, anchoring his chin at the top
of his sternum.
“You’ll stay with me for a long time, right?”
So many random questions. Seokjin stifled a laugh. “What are you even saying.”
“Promise me you won’t leave me.”
There was a playful lilt to his voice, but Seokjin knew he was serious. “Why would I.”
“We’ll do life together, right?”
“If you want to then sure, yeah.”
“And we’ll grow old together, grey hairs and all?”

“Well yes,” Seokjin smirked. “Because I can’t wait to see what you look like as an old man.”
“HEY.”
With (again) surprising strength Jimin tackled Seokjin to the couch so that they both crash landed
onto Jungkook’s sleeping form, Jungkook finally waking with a panicked yelp then kicking them
both down to the ground, his bulky build tumbling over their writhing bodies.
“Will you sleepover?” Jimin uttered breathlessly, struggling under Jungkook’s deadweight.
“N-No,” Seokjin wheezed as he managed to slip himself out of the dog pile. “Gotta go home and
set up that tree.”
“Oh right!” Jimin’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. “Send us a picture when you’re
done, yeah?”
It took him a grand total of ten seconds to assemble the tree. Tried placing it on the windowsill, but
the electrical outlet was too far away. Resorted to setting it up on the floor in the far corner,
uncoiling the wire and plugging it in unceremoniously. With a cough and a sputter the tree came to
life in the dark, its rainbow bulbs glowing garish and tacky, blues and reds, greens and golds
clashing in a festive mess. As promised, Seokjin snapped a photo; a little crooked and blurry but
they’d get the gist of it.
He was just about to tuck his phone away after pressing send when another message lit up his
screen, Seokjin squinting in the dim light, eyes widening upon realizing who it was.
Jia: Hey
Jia: What are you doing Christmas Eve
They never really texted, their last exchange over message having been half a year ago. Head
cocked to the side in confusion, he quickly typed out a response, eager to receive an answer.
Seokjin: Nothin. Why?

She wasted no time in getting to the point.
Jia: Let’s go to Hongdae.
Jia: Grab dessert or something, look at the lights
Strange.
Seokjin: Sure, down.
Seokjin: Who else is coming
A pause, three little dots.
Jia: Just you and me, bud.
---
They saved the heaviest suitcase for last, Hyungsik sizing the luggage up with disdain before
rolling it out of the unit door towards the dreaded stairwell. Taehyung remained in his place,
fingers curled around the plastic of a disposable camera. “I’m gonna take some pictures first,” he
mumbled, Hyungsik nodding in acknowledgement and slipping out of sight.
Never before had the apartment been this eerily silent. Dahyun’s cheerful yellows stripped to
musty whites and greys. Most of their furniture sold off to various underclassmen, patches of stains
now visible on the exposed carpet, Taehyung fighting the urge to scrub them away. Hollow
windows and bare bones. The door to Hyungsik’s room remained slightly ajar, Taehyung unable to
take one last peek, his heart already on the verge of breaking in half. Memories flooded back like a
movie reel, a sudden sadness gripping him as he aimed his shutter at the empty room, a loud click
ensuing.
“You got your picture?” Hyungsik piped up cheerfully from behind him, having climbed back up
the stairs after packing away the last of their bags. Yet Taehyung failed to answer him, a telling
silence stretching between them as the boy kept his head bowed, gaze fixed to his feet. It was as
Hyungsik inched closer that Taehyung looked up at him, mouth formed into a pitiful pout, fresh
pools swirling in his eyes.
“Baby,” the elder sighed, pulling Taehyung into his arms with a flustered chuckle. “Why? What’s
gotten into you, hmm?”
Dahyun had moved out some time ago to return to big city life in Seoul, leaving somewhat of a
gaping hole in her wake, Taehyung often pining for her bubbly laughter, her signature blueberry
pancakes, the fresh flowers she’d haul back every week from the market. But at least Hyungsik
had always been there, a sure and steady presence, a guaranteed warm hug to return home to. Now
all of his things were packed into the back of his car, and the world as Taehyung had known it
began closing in on him.
“We’re never going to see this place again.”
In his final year of university, Taehyung would live in an off campus apartment with two of his
other friends, Eungi and Jeongwoo. The three of them got along well enough and their pad was
fancier than most students could afford, thanks to Jeongwoo being somewhat of a trust fund baby.
Hyungsik had long overstayed his welcome in Daegu, his family urgently needing him to help
manage the business back in Seoul. He’d never known Kyungpook University without Hyungsik;
his rock, his safe place. The starkness of the apartment was a cruel wake up call to his imminent
departure.
“Are you gonna miss the apartment more or me?” Hyungsik jested, wiping the boy’s tears away
with his palms.
“The apartment.”
“Wow.”
“Of course you, dummy,” Taehyung crumpled, breaking into shuddering cries as he leaned his
forehead against Hyungsik’s shoulder.
Long distance for a whole year. The prospect of it loomed over them like a dark cloud, heavy and
daunting and lonely. To offset the unease they’d laid out an extensive roadmap of their future
together. Taehyung would graduate next December and promptly move back to Seoul. Hyungsik
would already have his own apartment there, so moving in together would be seamless, easy.
Finding a job would be another matter of its own, but he’d cross that bridge when he’d get there.
“I wish we could fast forward to next year,” Hyungsik hummed into his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For always keeping you behind.”
“Idiot,” he huffed. “I was happy to stay,” he confessed, wrapping his arms around Taehyung even
tighter for emphasis. “And I’m happy to wait. Besides, I’m gonna visit you all the time. It’ll be like
I never left. You’ll get annoyed of me, I promise you.”
To which Taehyung shook his head earnestly. “Never.”
A thoughtful pause before Hyungsik gently pried Taehyung away, eyes searching the boy’s puffy
face with aching fondness. “Don’t be sad, puppy,” he whispered, nudging a kiss to his temple and
lingering there, the air in the vacant unit cold but everything around them warm. “I’m excited.”
Taehyung’s tears subsided to hiccupy sighs. “I can’t wait for what’s ahead of us.”
---
He strolled down the glittering streets of Hongdae, hands burrowed into his coat pockets, breath
curling into the air like smoke as he made his way to the designated cafe. Blurs of lights, dazzling
golds and reds, the chatter of holiday crowds, the faraway sound of carols. It was undeniably
Christmas Eve.
He slowed to a halt upon spotting the shop’s neon sign, taking a deep breath before opening the
door with a faint jingle and stepping inside, gust of warm air greeting him upon entry. A quick scan
of the room and there she was, already seated in the far corner by the window.
She waved wordlessly as Seokjin strode towards their tiny table.
With a bit of an awkward manner he peeled off his outerwear, draping it over his chair and giving
the girl a quick once-over as the waitress dropped two menus in front of them. Both were dressed
just a tad nicer than usual; Jia donning a pretty blue dress and stockings, Seokjin in a cashmere
sweater and fitted jeans.
“Well don’t you look nice,” he remarked.
“Liars go to hell,” she shot back, pretending to be engrossed in the dessert selection instead.
“I’ll see you there, then.”
They spent several minutes in relative silence, pouring over page after page of decadent pastries
and caffeinated assortments, the two eventually reaching a consensus of sweet hotteok and a pot of
tea to share. Once the menus were cleared and they no longer had anything else to busy themselves
with, Seokjin cleared his throat noisily, Jia’s head snapping away from the view of the city street
outside.
“So,” he began, knowing full well that she knew where he was going with this. “What possessed
you to want to do this today.”
“I’m not possessed.”
“So then what.”
“What.”
“Why just us two.”
“Why not.”
“Why not Seokjung.”
She averted her gaze to the stacks of rings adorning her fingers instead, lips pursed into a thin line
as she mulled over her next words carefully. After a good amount of hesitation she finally spoke,
her usual spunk replaced with sincerity. “At the end of all of this it’s going to be just you and me,
isn’t it?”
The tea arrived first, heady notes of ginger and honey. He poured Jia her portion first before
serving himself, his face also resigned to a rather serious expression.
“Okay. You have a point.”
“So we gotta start somewhere.”
He hated this conversation, and she was dragging him by the heels into it.
“Did your parents put you up to this or…”
“It was me. Just me.”
The hotteok arrived, hot cinnamon oozing out from the edges.
He watched her dig into the pastry without hesitation, gesturing for Seokjin to pick up his fork and
partake as well. Watched as stray strands cascaded across her face, the girl tucking them behind her
ear with an air of nonchalance. Somewhere in a parallel universe, another Seokjin would probably
feel lucky. Lucky that he would ultimately end up with a girl like her.
It was all his fault when it came down to it, wasn’t it? If only he was different. If he was “normal.”
Questions sat at the tip of his tongue, Seokjin chewing on the inside of his cheek as his mind
battered back and forth between speak up versus don’t: Do you ever think of saying no? Yet a part
of him feared to hear her honest answer, for either way it was a terrifying reality to grapple with.
No: meaning she’d never questioned the arrangement, that it was all good and fine, so why should
he? Yes: meaning she was on the same page, that she wanted to run away, too.
And what exactly did running away entail?
“You’re freaking out. Stop freaking out.”
“I’m fine.”
“Forget I said anything, Jin. We’re friends, right? Can we call each other that much?”
“Yes,” he smiled, genuine and warm. “Of course we are.”
“Good. Then that’s all it is. We’re two friends meeting up for dessert. All those other thoughts in
your head, get them out.”
“Wasn’t thinking anything.”
“Not surprised to hear that. Just static up there, right?”
“Tumbleweed.”
To which they both threw their heads back in laughter, and everything became easier from there.
They caught each other up on the highs and lows of their lives since their joint family outing to
Busan, Jia raving about the wonders of weed and how she wanted to find a source of her own here
in Seoul. Seokjin found himself actually enjoying their one-on-one time together, that even though
Seokjung’s presence was sorely missed, the duo got on just as well on their lonesome.
It was as the two brawled over the last bite of dessert that Jia made an animalistic noise, eyes
trained on whatever was happening outside the window, finger jabbing upwards towards the night
sky.
“Jin, LOOK!”
“Yeah, okay. Nice try.”
“No really, LOOK!”
First snow.
They watched in awe as timid flurries descended upon the streets of Hongdae, throngs of passerbys
stopping in their tracks to look up and marvel at the sight, too.
He left the last piece of hotteok for Jia, who promptly wolfed it down without mercy. “Wanna head
out?” Seokjin suggested, Jia nodding in fervent agreement.
Once they settled the bill and pulled on their heavy coats, they braced themselves for the chill as
they stepped onto the bustling pedestrian street, weaving in and out amongst a sea of puffy jackets
and thick scarves. They strolled leisurely and aimlessly, stopping once in a while to check out
various knick knacks sold by the vendors along the path; colorful keychains, cell phone cases
galore, cheap couple rings. Jia seemed to be particularly enamored by a pair of fluffy pink
earmuffs, easing them on over her windswept hair and looking to Seokjin for approval.
“Stunning.”
She purchased the earmuffs without removing them from her head, cackling in delight as they
forged onwards, excited at the prospect of other treasures to be found. And the snow above them
continued to fall, fall, fall, dousing their little world in a fine layer, the shoulders of Jia’s red coat
now a soft white. In the distance they could spot small clusters formed around the usual buskers,
some of them dancing in formations to bubbly pop songs, others crooning into karaoke machines.
They hovered on the peripherals of a certain huddle, craning their necks to get a better view of the
lone performer; an unassuming gentleman, likely a Hongik University student, sporting thick
rimmed glasses and a long down coat, belting a soulful tune into his microphone. A rather
melancholy Christmas song, lonely and slow, the crowd around him listening in respectful
quietude. They lingered until the singer finished his last note, the man breaking out of his reverie
and bowing to all of the onlookers clapping and recording for him. “Thank you,” he spoke softly
into the mic. “Thank you everyone, Merry Christmas.”
“Wanna keep going?
“Yeah.”
They pried themselves away as he cleared his throat to begin the next song, sweet melodies
saturating the air once more. It was in the middle of Jia’s animated story, something about the
spectacular gag gift she’d bought her best friend for Christmas, that a familiar laugh rang loud and
clear not far from where they stood. Seokjin turned his head immediately at the sound, eyes
frantically scanning his surroundings for the source, for a moment thinking himself mad until
seconds later his gaze fell upon the back of a young man’s head a bit of a ways ahead of them.
[ ♪ The Angels Were Singing - Matthew Perryman Jones ]
His hair was lighter than he remembered it, a milk chocolate brown as opposed to black, a thick
wool scarf wrapped around his neck, arm in arm with a taller man who at that very moment leaned
over to plant a small kiss to his temple.
His body moved on automatic pilot. He couldn’t explain what had come over him; feet pressing
forward on their own stubborn will, powered by a strange urgency as he pushed through the
masses, tunnel vision overtaking him, the only thing he could see and hear being the boy with the
red scarf and his surly chuckle.
He just wanted to see his face. A foolish, selfish whim. The last time he’d seen him in the flesh was
nearly a year ago, Seokjin’s eyes closing to his sleeping form and waking to an empty bed. Just a
glimpse and he’d be satisfied, he reasoned as the gap grew steadily smaller, Seokjin picking up into
a light jog.
The girl lagged helplessly behind him, jostled by the crowd as she tried her best to keep up with his
frenzied pace, all the while crying out his name but to no avail. “Jin!” A mere whisper in the rush
of Hongdae.
“JIN!”
–This time loud enough so that not only Seokjin turned around but Taehyung, too.
The snow fell thickly now, like a veil between the four of them as Taehyung and Hyungsik slowed
to a halt, Seokjin skidded to a stop, Jia eventually catching up to him and shaking his arm as if to
wake him.
“What’s gotten into you?”
But he never turned to look at her, gaze instead fixed upon the pretty boy several feet away, whose
jaw had gone slack with surprise, warm breath curling into the night like dragon smoke, tip of his
nose cherry red, brown eyes wide and doe-like, returning Seokjin’s unwavering stare before
shifting slightly to glance at the girl by his side.
Seokjin blinked back the hot tears stinging his eyes as he tried desperately to steady his heaving
chest, icy December air filling his lungs in an almost painful way, biting. Neither party moved as
the crowds opted to billow around them instead.
“I thought I recognized you,” Seokjin raised his voice above the clamor, mustering a strained
smile.
“Jin.”
“I just...” He trailed off, at a loss for words. Someone once told him that big cities had a way of
feeling small. He only wished it hadn’t been under circumstances like this. “Just wanted to say
Merry Christmas,” he finally stammered, nonsense tumbling out of his mouth.
While Taehyung stayed frozen in his place, not coming closer nor retreating, large flakes peppering
his unblinking lashes. “Merry Christmas,” he eventually murmured before Hyungsik nodded
politely in Seokjin and Jia’s direction, signaling the end of the conversation as he gave his
boyfriend’s arm a light tug forward.
But even as the couple walked away hand in hand, Taehyung couldn’t help but look back. Twice.
Until the crowd shrouded him from view and the snow closed around them like a curtain. Until the
distant carols lulled to a hush and the ghosts of their melodies haunted Seokjin, mocking him as
tears spilled over and rolled down his cheeks.
---
They walked to the bus station in a daze, a distressed Seokjin leading the way and a pensive Jia
observing him from behind. The snow hadn’t stuck to the ground on the main pedestrian street just
yet; too much foot traffic. But away from the hustle and bustle, theirs were the first and only
footprints in the fresh powder, the world around them demure and quiet, cast in a muted blue.
The two of them approached the familiar awning, a thick layer of white blanketing the top of it,
Seokjin and Jia stepping underneath and sitting side by side on the cold metal bench. Nothing but
the sound of the occasional car sloshing down the road.
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin blurted out, breaking through the quiet. “It’s a stupid thing.” He sniffed,
forcing a laugh. “We had a falling out. I haven’t seen him in a wh-”
“I always kind of knew.”
His breath hitched in his throat. “What?”
“You’re different.” Her gaze shifted from the road to the boy beside her, sad smile forming upon
her lips.
He watched the snowfall in dumbfounded silence.
“You’re different,” she repeated once more, giving his hand a squeeze. “And that’s okay.”
----
By the time he’d traveled between the station and his apartment complex, his hands, despite being
tucked away in his wool coat, were completely red and numb. Hair matted with snow, body
trembling from the chill.
He’d mulled over Jia’s words over and over again on his bus ride home.
You’re different.
You’re different, and that’s okay.
That’s okay.
Seeing Taehyung again had done quite a number on him, like resetting a stopwatch to zero, time as
he knew it coming to a standstill. He willed his mind to fixate on other matters but with little
success, only the image of Taehyung swimming to the surface; brown eyes peeking above his red
scarf, piercing straight through Seokjin’s soul as if asking him, “Are you happy now?”
To which Seokjin would respond, “No, not really.” Four seasons had come and gone; everyone
else had moved on, but here he was still standing at square one.
It made him think back to simpler times, innocent parallels. A November evening...was it their
second year? That it snowed uncharacteristically early. Most of the students including Taehyung
weren’t well equipped for the weather, but Seokjin was always prepared for the cold; a dense puffy
jacket over his uniform, a knitted scarf secured tightly around his neck. He remembered filing out
of the school building to the onset of a blizzard, him and Taehyung huddling under the sidewalk’s
lamplight as they waited for their bus to come.
He’d laughed at the faint chattering of teeth at his side, taking the cue to remove his scarf and wrap
it around Taehyung instead, piling the material high until only the boy’s eyes poked out from above
the fabric.
“My hands are cold too,” Taehyung mumbled with a mischievous glint.
Leaving Seokjin no choice but to grab both of Taehyung’s hands and stuff them in his own pockets,
wrapping his fingers around them for good measure like any best friend would. A chuckle escaped
from Seokjin’s lips as Taehyung shuffled shyly towards him, then buried himself in the crook of
his neck. With little conviction Seokjin nudged the boy’s head away, only for Taehyung to nuzzle
even closer.
It was their second year. Meaning by then Taehyung had already been in love with Seokjin for two
winters. And for Seokjin, it would take him one more summer to realize it.
So when present day Seokjin approached a hauntingly familiar scene unfolding at the front steps of
his apartment building, of a boy in a red scarf under a pool of orange lamplight, his heart began
pounding in the very same way it did four years before.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
The storm had passed, the air pindrop still. Suddenly he felt seventeen again.
“How long have you been here?”

“Forty five minutes,” Taehyung admitted sheepishly. “I was in the lobby for half an hour, but your
doorman kicked me out. Guess I seemed too suspicious.”
“Well that’s a real asshole move of him,” Seokjin frowned, scuffing the sole of his boot against the
ground. “Do you uh...do you wanna come up?” He tried his best to maintain a calm exterior despite
the panic rising within his chest. “Warm up a little? Want some tea, or…”
“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “I won’t bother you for too long. Just didn’t get to say a proper
hello back there, that’s all.”
A hesitant chuckle from Seokjin; that couldn’t possibly be the only reason Taehyung suddenly
showed up on his doorstep.
“Well it’s nice to see you again,” Seokjin offered an attempt at small talk. “Crazy coincidence.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry we had to run off like that, in a bit of a rush but uh…” The boy trailed off,
scratching the back of his head before clearing his throat. “Who was...who was that girl next to
you, by the way?”
“A friend.”
“Just a friend?” Taehyung teased. “Nothing more?”
Somehow the question stung more than it should’ve.
“You know it could never be anything more.”
Neither spoke for a moment, a year’s worth of unanswered questions weighing heavy on their
tongues, the quiet surrounding them akin to the inside of a snowglobe. Swallowing down the lump
in his throat, Taehyung’s expression suddenly shifted to a serious one.
“I wanted to tell you before anyone else. Hyungsik and I are thinking about getting married.”
So this is what it felt like, getting hit by a truck.
“What?”
“We want to get married,” Taehyung repeated, words cutting like knives. “He and I were looking
at rings today in Hongdae.”
The lights were too bright, the night far too cold. He felt faint, saw stars. Closed his eyes for a
moment to process but nothing was registering. When he opened his eyes again Taehyung was
staring back at him intently, waiting for an answer. Seokjin had nothing coherent to give.
“Aren’t we—you—too young?”
“I know it’s really early,” Taehyung nodded. “I know it seems fast. But Hyungsik’s been out of
school for a year already. And I only have a year left, too. Both of us want to settle down as soon as
possible, start a family. You know I’ve always wanted a ton of kids. Hyungsik’s the same, he loves
children. Maybe even more than me. Honestly, if it weren’t for school I think I’d be ready now,
too. It just...it all just makes sense. Things have fallen into place kind of effortlessly. Hyungsik
hyung’s been so good to me. My family loves him, his family loves me. And I love him,” he added
the last bit as almost an after-thought before pausing from his ramblings to breathe, yet again
looking to Seokjin with a great deal of anticipation and receiving nothing in return. Seokjin’s facial
expression remained indiscernible.
“I’m happy for you,” he murmured softly, willing his voice not to give him away.
“Congratulations.”
“I mean...it hasn’t happened yet. Probably won’t happen any time soon. I don’t know.”
“Gotcha.”
“Just wanted you to be the first to know.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin answered numbly. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Yeah.” And then another excruciatingly lengthy pause followed, the boy with the red scarf
peering into Seokjin’s face as if expecting something more. But when the silence stretched on too
long for comfort, he released a shaky exhale, shoulders relaxing into relent. “I’d...better get going.
Hyungsik is waiting for me.”
“Right. It’s getting late.”
They’d been standing a safe distance apart throughout the entire exchange. They’d been good. It
wasn’t until their decided parting that Taehyung took one, two, seven steps forward until he was
close enough to bring Seokjin into a careful embrace. He’d sprouted quite a bit since their high
school days; whereas he used to rest his cheek against Seokjin’s chest, the two now stood ear to
ear, cheek to cheek.
They breathed in the familiar scent of the other, hints of lavender and pine and fresh snow mingled
into one. Perhaps he lingered there longer than he should’ve, but Seokjin didn’t show any intent of
pulling away, and if Seokjin had given up on self restraint then Taehyung certainly didn’t stand a
chance. Smothering the last of his hope he took a step back, although not before sealing the deal
with a chaste peck to the temple. Seokjin shivered under the touch, and it wasn’t because of the
cold.
“Oh, and Happy New Year, too,” he wished in advance before turning away from Seokjin, leaving
nothing but a trail of footprints behind him.
Seokjin didn’t bother turning on the lights when he reentered his apartment, relying on the sparse
illumination from the tiny tree in the corner to guide him to the couch. Laid his tired head down to
rest, red blue green and gold reflecting off of the window, dancing in his eyes, all of the colors
blurring together as he played the same silly mantra over and over again: you’re different, and
that’s okay. You’re okay.
You’re okay.
You’ll be fine, you’ll be okay.
Chapter End Notes
It's 7AM. I didn't sleep last night so I am deliiiiirrrriouussssss.
There are two movies about war that come to mind...Wonder Woman and Jojo
Rabbit...where both of the main characters in these respective films say that when the
fighting is over, the first thing they're going to do is dance. There is something about
dancing that is both freeing and undignified, perhaps why I've never gotten the hang of
it and look upon it with dread. Lately I've realized that I need to learn how to dance,
maybe physically but most definitely mentally/emotionally.
Some of you have asked me recently why this story is so sad. Apologies, as I've been
using this fic as an outlet for my personal trauma/turmoil, hope you understand.
As I mentioned in the last chapter, the scene of Christmas Eve in Hongdae,

particularly when Seokjin chases Taehyung down was one of the very first ideas I had
while drafting this story. It's daunting for me to share it but I hope you "enjoyed" it. Or
suffered through it, haha.
When Jinmin are dancing, I recommend you listen to Sam Smith's version of "Have
Yourself A Merry Little Christmas." That's what I had in mind while writing it.
The questions that Jimin asks Seokjin are also not random, they're very intentional.
Wonder if you guys will catch on as to why?
Oh and this is the last part of Junior Year, next chapter is Senior Year.
Me go sleepy now, leave me some comments so I feel loved haha. Byeeee.

Part 2 | Senior Year
Chapter Notes
This is a lighter chapter so no tissues needed. Everyone breatheeeee we're gonna be

fineeeee. <3
April: Senior Year
His favorite seat was situated on the very top floor of the library, pushed up against the windows
overlooking the pathways of campus; at times busy and bustling, but on that particular spring
afternoon placid and quiet, most of the students done with classes for the week and well into
weekend celebrations. Perhaps he was a bit of a loser, holed up in his books at 5:00PM on a
Friday. But there was something about the weather; the muggy greys, the low hanging clouds that
rendered him restless. He wanted to keep himself busy.
A shadow crossed his line of vision, blocking the street below from sight, Jimin quickly registering
it as a familiar hand and chuckling with knowing. A pause, as the hand hovered awkwardly in front
of his glasses before wiggling them off and placing them to the side. And then the hand was back,
this time pressed firm against his skin, everything devolving to black.
“Guess who.”
“I can smell the hot Cheetos on your fingers, Jungkook.”
With a sigh of defeat the boy lifted his palm from Jimin’s eyes, plopping his backpack onto the
table with a loud thud and sliding into the chair beside him. He’d clearly gone back to the
apartment for an afternoon nap before trekking out to the library; hair terribly mussed, shirt
wrinkled, a pair of slippers dangling from his feet.
“You brought your work with you?” Jimin asked, eyeing Jungkook’s bulky bag with a hint of a
smirk.
“Oh god, no,” Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you know me better than that. I brought you snacks.
Sorry I ate the Cheetos on the way here.”
“What else you got for me?”
“The world is your oyster,” Jungkook replied cheerfully, unzipping the bag and dumping all of its
contents on top of Jimin’s notes. Couple cartons of banana milk and coffee beverages, oven-roasted
chicken Doritos, honey butter almonds. “All of the good stuff.”
“You really outdid yourself,” Jimin muttered in admiration, wiping the smudge off of his glasses
with the hem of his shirt. It was just as he was about to slide said glasses back on that he felt a
gentle touch to his chin, Jungkook tipping Jimin’s face towards him so that the two locked in a
gaze.
“You didn’t sleep,” he frowned.
A sheepish chuckle. “I had to study.”
“Liar. Your exam was yesterday.”
Followed by a wrinkle of the nose. “Very observant, you are.”
“I am. I also noticed that when I woke up to pee last night, you weren’t there.”
“Huh.”
“And the living room window was open. You were on the roof? At 4AM?”
“I’m practicing being a rooster,” Jimin answered without missing a beat. “One of these days I’m
just gonna let it rip,” he giggled before mimicking a bird cry that sounded nothing like a rooster.
He watched as Jungkook laughed almost on instinct, a fond smile stretching from ear to ear,
wrinkles blooming at the corners of his eyes. But within seconds he shook off Jimin’s joke with
resolve, returning to his former stance of Serious Business.
“Are you okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I’ll tell you when I’m not okay. You know that.”
Yet Jungkook continued to scrutinize him with a stubborn intensity, big doe eyes like clear pools
revealing everything at their depths. “Dummy,” he whispered softly, reaching up to swipe at the tip
of the boy’s nose. “How can I not be okay with you looking at me like that?”
It was subtle, the twitch of his mouth, the steady pink creeping upon his cheeks. Not at all subtle,
the noisy clearing of his throat as he quickly changed the subject. “Anyway. I say we end this
whole charade early. It’s the weekend, Min. This is just depressing.”
“If you say so. Got anything in mind?”
“Hobi was thinking of coming up with Yoongi tonight. They’re just waiting for the okay from us.
If they can crash and everything.”
“Well sure, I mean always, yeah,” Jimin nodded. “But what can we do? It’s supposed to rain all
weekend.”
“Clubbing?” Jungkook winked, earning a dramatized gasp and a stinging slap to the thigh.
“You, of all people.”
“Well it’s fun if you’re there.”
“Oh yeah? You think Yoongi would be down for it?”
“Cat’s gotta take a bath at some point.”
“That is a…weird but perfect analogy.”
“Let’s just offer it to them and see what they say.”

“Down. Tell them to come. Even if we don’t go out we can stay in and drink, it’ll be fun.”
A pause, as Jimin absentmindedly twirled a pencil between his fingers. “Jin’s not in town, is he?”
“Nah. He said he’s doing the Busan trip today. Says he’ll be back late tonight.”
“Hope the weather holds up for him. Kind of a shitty day to go to the beach.”
“Yeah.”
“Did he say who he was going with?”
Jungkook shook his head. “Didn’t say.”
As if on cue, dark clouds began rolling in across the sky, angry and gloomy, ominous enough to
prompt several students in their vicinity to pack their belongings. Another small storm was brewing
within Jimin, the boy’s shoulders slumping forward as he removed his glasses once more to rub at
his tired eyes, Jungkook bringing his hand to his back and trailing gently up and down his spine.
“These days…” Jimin mumbled through his hands. “These days I just have this…bad, bad feeling.”
“Like what?” A flash of lightning in the distance, the world around them strangely silent, waiting
for the thunder.
“Like everything will go to shit. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
---
He needed to clear his head.

They planted themselves upon the pale sands of Haeundae, cold waves of Busan crashing upon the
shore and leaving a spray of mist in its wake. Seokjin sported an old windbreaker to fend off the
chill, while Jia sat cross-legged by his side, drowning in an over-sized denim jacket.
“Is that yours?” He asked as she rolled up her sleeves for the nth time. She simply shook her head
and neither commented further.
They exchanged lazy conversation in between chewing on their bungeoppangs, their backs warmed
by a fickle sun dipping in and out of the clouds.
“It’s supposed to rain later tonight,” Jia remarked, glancing up at the overcast.
“I think we might’ve just missed it,” Seokjin nodded.
A pleasant silence passed as they watched a gaggle of tourists gather for a photograph in front of
the Princess Hwangok mermaid statue. High school students, by the looks of it, their bright, foreign
voices carrying far along the otherwise abandoned beach. Seokjin did the math; it’d only been three
and a half years since he was in their very shoes, yet somehow the entirety of his youth felt like a
fever dream, like a life he’d never lived.
“What did you mean that night, by different?” He suddenly piped up, catching Jia mid-bite.
“What night?” she mumbled through a mouthful of pastry.
“Christmas Eve. I don’t know if you’d remember. Sorry, it was a long time ago. You looked at me
in a very cryptic way and said ‘You’re different.’ ”
She threw her head back in laughter. “You’re asking me like half a year later?”
“I haven’t gotten the chance to ask you before,” Seokjin scowled, flicking a bit of sand onto her
foot.
“I don’t know,” Jia shrugged. “You’re a weirdo. That’s probably what I meant.”
“I’m gay.”
“That too.”
Two words, two syllables, two seconds. Spoken softly enough so that if she’d turned away in that
moment she would’ve missed it but she’d heard it, she’d undeniably heard it. And although her
expression gave no indication that anything had changed, it was as if Seokjin’s entire world had
shifted, the boy’s hands trembling so horribly he wedged them under his bum to still them.
“Can you tell me what happened that night?” She asked, still unaffected.
“Yeah. I’ll tell you everything.”
And so he did; not from the aforementioned night but all the way back from the very beginning.
How the two of them met in the most ordinary of ways, eyes meeting across the classroom, as most
high school sweethearts did. How Taehyung and Seokjin had been synonymous, one in the same;
best friends, inseparable, attached at the hip, until they weren’t. Until one day they became lovers,
and no matter how they tried they could never go back to the way it was before.
She listened intently, nodding at the right times but never speaking, gaze fixed upon the tumbling
sea in the distance. When she was sure that Seokjin had finished telling his story, she turned to him
with an unabashed question. “Do you still love him?”
“I’ve tried to stop.”
“So...him getting engaged. Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know when it’s going to happen?”
“No. My guess is the end of this year.”

“I see.”
“He and I don’t really talk anymore.”
A shrill scream near the water punctured the quiet, one of the girls in the group hurtling full speed
through a flock of grounded seagulls, sending them into a frenzied flight. Seokjin couldn’t help but
let out a chuckle. Seemed like something Jungkook would do.
“I know you’re probably sad about it,” Jia began carefully. “But if I have to be honest, I’m a little
jealous of you. It must be really nice to be in love.”
“It’s both the worst and the best thing in the world. The highs are high, the lows…you feel like
you’re gonna die.”
“But those highs.”
“Like nothing I’ve ever felt,” Seokjin admitted, tugging at the hole in his jeans as he willed himself
to push the image of Taehyung to the back of his mind. “I’m guessing…you haven’t been in love?”
“No, not at all,” she cackled. “Haven’t come close.”
“What about that Kyungsoo guy?”
“You know, as much as I try not to think about him, part of me knows he liked me too,” the girl
sighed, pushing stubborn strands away from her face. “We did the whole chase for a while, back
and forth bullshit, push and pull. But all of a sudden one day I just…stopped. I think when my
parents first introduced me to you I was in a bit of denial. But then at your dad’s company
anniversary celebration it all kind of hit me like…this is real. I can’t keep pretending like it’s not.”
“Do you guys keep in touch?”
“No. I think it would hurt a little bit too much.”

“And you don’t like anyone right now?”
“Well no,” she shrugged. “What’s the point, right? Better not to get emotionally invested.”
A lull in conversation before Jia realized Seokjin was staring at her with an unusual ferocity, a
certain sadness swimming in his eyes.
“What.”
His voice shook as he spoke. “I want you to fall in love.”
“I want you to experience it, even if it’s just once.”
And then she realized what he meant; that at this rate, she would never.
“It’s okay, Jin. It’s not important to me.”
“You just said-”
“I was saying all of that to make you feel better.”
“Liar.”
“Okay whatever. Let’s just say I would like to. There’s a lot of other things I’d like to do in this
lifetime too. Have you been to Australia?”
“I have.”
“Oh. Okay. How about New Zealand?”
“I haven’t.”
“OKAY. Perfect. Me neither! I’d love to though, I heard it’s a beautiful country. But I have no
reason to go so I probably won’t. Is it sad? SURE! But is it the end of my life as I know it? No. I’ll
probably end up going to a lot of other places, and somewhere along the way I’ll forget I ever
wanted to go to New Zealand at all. It’s going to be okay, really.”
“That’s a nice analogy but you know it’s different.”
She finished the last of her bungeoppang, wiping the stickiness off of her fingers and settling into a
more pensive mood. “You know…my parents told me they’d give me the world growing up. I
thought I could literally have anything I wanted. I admit that I was spoiled, I can say that much
now. But the way I kind of see it is…maybe this is a good thing. Coming to terms that life isn’t
always going to go the way I want it to.”
No. It doesn’t feel like a good thing.
“Do you ever think of running away?”
“No,” she sputtered, eyes widening. “Not really. Do you?”
“Why don’t you?”
“Well…because as twisted as it sounds, I know my parents are doing everything out of love. That
they want the best for me, that they just care too much. I’m the only kid in our little family and
they’ve put all their eggs into one basket. I’m that basket. If I leave, they have nothing. If there’s
anything I know in this life it’s that they love me.”
“I see.”
“But I get the sense that you can’t say the same.”
He nodded.
“And I’m…guessing that you do think about it.”
Could he admit this out loud? He took in a sharp breath before whispering, “Lately, more often
than I’d like.”
“And what does running away look like?”
“Selfish.”
“Hm.”
“On some days it seems like an awful, selfish thing. But when I think of Taehyung, I don’t know…
it doesn’t seem all too bad. Like it could even be a good thing.”
The little group of high schoolers had disappeared from the beach entirely, having skulked off of
the sand en route to Dongbaek Island. The wind began to pick up from behind them, forming rivers
in the sand that billowed straight towards the sea. Jia shivered in her jacket before clearing her
throat and giving Seokjin’s knee a reassuring pat.
“Just know that whatever you decide to do in the end, I hope you know I’ll stand by you. We’re in
the same boat. I’m on your team.” A pause. “We’re friends, right?”
“Seriously, why do you keep asking me that?” He tutted. “Of course we are.”
Her voice became small, unsure. “I just don’t want you to resent me.”
It broke his heart in every kind of way.

“I could never,” he shook his head fervently, placing his own hand over hers and giving it a
squeeze. “We’re on the same team. And I’m so lucky that it’s you.”
---
By the time they boarded the return train to Seoul the sky had darkened to something sinister,
Seokjin peering through the window at the grim view outside. Jia had settled comfortably into the
seat beside him, busying herself with untangling her headphones.
They didn’t speak much for the rest of the trip, Jia lost in her music and Seokjin in his thoughts. At
some point on their northbound journey their train pulled to a stop at Daegu station, fluorescent
lights and neon signs, passengers boarding and leaving, coming and going. He wondered what
would become of him if he were to step off too.
“How did you know?” He asked, as one drop, then two, then too many to count hit the station
platform.
“Hm?”
“That night, what you said. How did you know.”
She blinked through heavy lids as the rain came down in sheets, the ground a muddled blur.
“Well, it’s the way you looked at each other.”
---
He’d flinched rather violently at the loud crack of thunder, walls within the station seemingly
shaking as the storm announced its early arrival with utmost bravado. Taehyung heaved a lengthy
groan at the sight of the downpour assaulting the pavement outside; he’d forgotten his umbrella
back at the apartment.
The lobby was crowded as it always was for the weekend, the air inside stuffy and humid and stale,
Taehyung searching the reader-board for the status of Hyungsik’s train. Seoul to Daegu: a ten
minute delay. Plugging in his headphones and digging his phone out of his pocket, he kept himself
occupied with a round of Candy Crush, Taehyung ready to obliterate the gameboard with a double
color bomb when he felt his feet being lifted off the ground, strong arms wrapped around his torso
and carrying him towards the door.
“HYUNG!” He cried as he squirmed in Hyungsik’s grip, warm scent of vanilla enveloping him as
his boyfriend giggled mischievously into his ear. Only when the two had reached the exit did the
elder set him down, Taehyung spinning in his place to give him a light punch before throwing his
arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.
“Did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been two weeks.”
“Two weeks too long.”
“Aigoo,” he cooed, keeping Taehyung in his embrace and shuffling them both through the
revolving doors. Outside the rain continued to pour, sheets upon sheets of grey, the taxi line
stretching around the building, blue evening and orange lamplight.
“Hyung, wait, I don’t have-”
A click and a whoosh, as the umbrella in Hyungsik’s hand blossomed into a canopy above their
heads.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve always got you.”
---
By the time their train arrived in Seoul it was nearly midnight, pitch black. Coming into the city
he’d received a slew of messages from the Seoulmates group chat, Jimin and Jungkook teaming up
per usual to coax Seokjin out for the night.
Jimin: Please
Jungkook: Pleathe
Jimin: Please
Jungkook: Pleatsh
Jimin: Please
Jungkook: Pllllleestthhe
Seokjin: Are you drunk JK?
Jungkook: Yeth D:
Jungkook: Me NEED you
Jimin: He really does tho, please help
The pair followed the sparse crowd and disembarked the train, Jia also working through an
onslaught of texts from her classmates in Gangnam.
“I don’t think they’ll take no for an answer,” she mumbled, shaking her head with a smirk. “Night’s
still young, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin nodded as Jungkook sent him an entire page’s worth of sad emojis.
“You too?”
“My friends are in Ikseondong.”
“Oh, how trendy. You gonna go?”
“I think so. Got some friends visiting from out of town, I think they’ll kill me if I bail.”
“When am I going to meet these hip friends of yours?” She teased as they lingered on the largely
abandoned platform, most of the train’s passengers having departed fairly quickly to their next
destination.
“I uh,” he scratched his head nervously. “Whenever, really. Just-”
“I’m kidding. You’re freaking out again.”
“It’s just…you plus them…” His mind drifted immediately to a drunk Jungkook, shivering at the
mere thought of it. “A literal nightmare.”
“Sounds like a dream come true to me,” she fired back. But before she could dial up the sass any
higher, the phone in her hand lit up with a call, Jia glancing at her screen and breaking into a grin.
“Catch you later,” she winked before turning on her heel and picking up said call with an exuberant
squeal.
So Yoongi and Hoseok were in town. Seoul to Gwangju, they’d probably argue, was less than two
hours by train. Seoul to Busan rounded up to nearly three. He hadn’t seen either of them since
winter break, hadn’t made an effort to check in one-on-one since even longer prior. Last he’d heard
in the group chat, Hoseok was balancing school with a hectic music production internship and
Yoongi was really getting into hot yoga, totally zenned out. But everything else in between was a
fill in the blank question, and Seokjin didn’t have a clue as to the answers.
They’d probably give him shit for it, he reconciled as he transferred to the subway and descended a
flight of stairs just in time to catch the last train. Probably deserve it, he thought to himself as he
stared down his own ragged reflection in the glass.
When he emerged from the station’s escalators the rain was still coming down albeit no longer
blinding, everything soft and hazy, small rivers trickling through the streets, lights blurring
together, kaleidoscope of color. He dodged drunken pedestrians as he crossed the road to the pub
where the group was supposedly waiting for him, beads of water splattering against his hood, some
of it escaping onto his skin. Their little group wasn’t even in view yet when he heard the
unmistakable sound of Hoseok’s laugh, loud and clear like bells above the clamor. And when he
rounded the corner to find them huddled under the building’s awning, tucked behind a waterfall
cascading from the roof onto the ground, the first person to spot him was none other than Yoongi,
who turned to him with a wide, gummy smile. Drunk, definitely drunk. Or maybe it was the yoga.
“Seokjin-ah!”
And within seconds there followed a shriek, an outright uproar, a warm body slamming into his;
Hoseok leaving the refuge of the awning and meeting him in the rain. Water dripping down his
face, catching on his lashes, soaking through his sweater but he didn’t care. None of them did.
Chapter End Notes
The rain can be beautiful too, no?
Ikseondong. If you guys ever get the chance to go to Korea I highly recommend
checking out this little neighborhood. I only found out about it because an old friend of
mine from my hometown suggested we meet there while I was visiting Seoul last
winter. We hadn't seen each other in nearly a decade...both of us had gone to a tiny
Korean church back home, the kind where everyone knew the dirt on
everybody...suffocating to say the least.
But when we met again in Ikseondong recently, this boy was positively glowing.
Happy, vibrant, confident, like a completely different person. Within minutes of
greeting one another he turned to me and unabashedly professed, "Oh by the way, I'm
gay." Never in a million years did I think he'd come out, much less in a place like
Seoul.
Spending that evening with him gave me tremendous hope; both of us had changed so
much since our high school days. Me, I think, for the worse...in ways I don't want to
dive into...but him, he'd managed to thrive in the most hopeless of situations. I think I
will always think of Ikseondong through rose-colored glasses.
What a tangent. Anyway, what'd you guys think? Definitely a lighter chapter no?
Think of this as the calm before the storm.
As always, please don't be a silent reader and let me know what you think in the
comments. I always respond and I love hearing your thoughts. Until next time. <3
Chapter Notes
Thank you for your patience. <3
He blinks his eyes open to light spilling in through his window, clouds from the evening prior
parting ways for clear skies. He’s determined to make it a good day.
But getting out of bed is hard.
He lays in a trance, fighting the invisible weight pressing him down into the mattress. Tries to
think of little things he looks forward to in the mornings. Long showers, hot coffee. It’s enough to
ease him out of bed and onto his feet.
The water scalds his skin just the way he likes it, swirling steam trailing behind him as he ambles
back to his room and scours his closet for a suitable outfit. His favorite shirt sits atop an
overflowing pile of laundry, soiled and stained. He settles for another.
It isn’t until he reaches for his coffee canister that he remembers — he doesn’t have enough for one
full cup. This’ll have to do, he thinks as he sprinkles the remains into the bottom of his mug, filling
it halfway with boiled water from the kettle.
Classes are a nice break from the monotony. Bus rides, if he manages to snag a seat by the
window, are a good opportunity to zone out. He stuffs his headphones in and listens to a podcast
about bitcoin. He doesn’t remember anything after the first five minutes.
He goes through the motions. Goes from one lecture to the next, makes small talk with classmates,
meets with Sungmin for lunch at the dining hall. Tries to stay focused on their conversation, to
match his friend’s peppy energy. He thinks he manages to get away with it.
The sun hangs low by the time he boards the return bus back to his apartment. Flicks on the kitchen
light and combs through his fridge, mostly leftovers from the last time his mom dropped off food
for him. He throws everything together in a bowl, microwaves it for a minute, then settles into the
same spot on the couch and watches whatever’s playing on TVN.
But the show quickly gets boring, and long after he’s done eating he lays there in a comatose state,
scrolling through social media but not socializing with anyone. Texts are rolling in from friends but
he ignores them all. He doesn’t have the energy to formulate a proper response.
It scares him, how the anxiety creeps in slowly but surely, an inevitable tide. He feels the
restlessness crawl over him, preying over every good feeling until they’re gone, all gone. He
considers taking a walk to shake it off but he remembers how humid it was earlier and scraps the
idea. Marches back to the fridge and pulls out a six pack instead. Drinks and drinks until he’s got
six empty bottles lined up on his coffee table, green-bellied soldiers.
He takes his second shower, buzzed but not tipsy. He wishes he was. Rolls back into bed and
briefly considers watching porn and jerking himself off. Perhaps it’ll help him feel something.
Ultimately he doesn’t; he’d just showered, after all. But the longing lingers.
Seokjin tosses and turns, sheets pooling around his legs. The room is silent as always,
dispassionate to his suffering. Grabbing his phone off of his nightstand he scrolls through the
messages he’d previously ignored and responds to all of them, a bunch of “haha”’s and “LOL”’s.
He receives nothing in return, because everyone else is already sleeping.
He wishes someone could hold him.
He lays on his back and practices deep breathing, focusing on one part of his body at a time,
clenching and relaxing. Lengthy inhales, shaky exhales. It’s a tactic they use in the military,
Yoongi explained once. You’re guaranteed to fall asleep in two minutes.
He loses track of time, but it’s definitely more than two minutes. Exhaustion eventually takes over
and drowns out most of the noise in his head. Ninety percent of the thoughts you have today are
the same ones you had yesterday, Seokjin remembers Namjoon sharing in the group chat once. It
doesn’t surprise him, because every night before he falls asleep he replays the same thought over
and over again:
Life is so long. It’s so long, and so lonely.
---
He didn’t want to go home, for every time he entertained the prospect of it he was met with
impending doom, absolute dread. His mother and brother certainly noticed, although Seokjin
couldn’t be sure that his father did; he was never there, anyway. In more regular increments
Seokjung began showing up at his apartment, often with the excuse of “I just need to get out of that
house.” His mother too would swing by with increasing frequency, dropping off home-cooked
meals and pestering him as to “How busy can you really be?”
But come the beginning of summer and the end of the semester, he’d run out of believable excuses,
his life thrust back into his father’s hands once more. Hardly a day after he’d finished his last final
he was beckoned to tag along on his very first international business trip, the father and son duo
Hong Kong bound.
His mother insisted on having a meal together before sending the two off, prompting Seokjin to
pack his carry-on the night before and lug it back to their family home. A change of business attire,
pajamas, one casual outfit, toiletries, and his work laptop. The latter he likely wouldn’t need, as his
presence served mainly as an accessory, for his father to show off. Nevertheless, a small (and
shameful) part of him wanted to feel important.
As soon as he dropped off his luggage the family piled into the car, family being just Seokjin and
his parents, Seokjung nowhere to be seen. The car ride to dinner was brief and uneventful, his
father brewing in silence behind the wheel, his mother babbling on the phone at his side, to whom
exactly Seokjin couldn’t decipher.
With a slight jostle their vehicle pulled into a familiar parking lot, Seokjin’s eyes widening upon
recognizing the signage of the restaurant. “Long time no see,” the hostess greeted the three of them
upon entering the establishment.
“Yes, it’s been a while,” his mother replied warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Are they here
already?”
“Yes, yes. Just a couple minutes ago. Right this w-”
“No need, dear. Which room is it?”
“End of the hall, last door on your left.”
They forged ahead down said hall, the sides of it adorned with elegant sconces and lacquered
walls. Faint voices drifted from the very last room on the left, gold light spilling out from
underneath the door.
Seokjin knew before they even stepped inside.
The first to come into view was that of Mr. Kim, balding at the crown, same boxy smile as Seokjin
remembered it. Mrs. Kim seated in the center, sporting a modest cream sweater, hair cropped short
and freshly permed. And then Taehyung.
Hands tucked politely under the table. Wearing a nice shirt, just like Seokjin. His parents probably
told him to dress up too. His usually messy hair tamed into obedience, albeit the color of his locks
a shocking silver, a stark contrast against the muted wood accents of their little room. The two
locked eyes as Taehyung looked up from his lap, Seokjin’s world coming to a standstill as
Taehyung offered the slightest hint of a smile.
“Seokjin-ah,” Mrs. Kim greeted the boy warmly as he hovered by the doorframe, snapping him out
of his reverie so that he remembered to offer the customary greetings.
“Eomeonim, abeonim,” he murmured, lowering himself into a bow.
“No need for the formalities sweetheart,” the woman across from him tutted before a loud squeal
interrupted her mid-sentence.
“Sunyoung-ah!”
“Unnie, it’s been too long!”
The men in the room remained rather stoic as the women sidled up to each other, clasping hands
and making a fuss as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Naturally the fathers gathered at the
left end of the table, the mothers corralled in the center, leaving one empty seat opposite Taehyung
on the far right.
“Why do you look so surprised, honey?” He heard his mother asking from his side. “Didn’t you
know we were eating together? Didn’t Taehyung tell you?”
“I did,” Taehyung lied quickly. “He must’ve forgotten.”
“Our Seokjinnie’s been studying so hard lately, he’s probably a bit scatterbrained,” his mother
agreed. “Alright then, what’re we having? Did you guys get a chance to look?”
The parents became absorbed in their own conversation, arguing over which dishes to pick and
how much to order. “That’s enough!” Seokjin could hear Mr. and Mrs. Kim protest repeatedly, to
which his parents would fire back with “Nonsense!” and add more items to their growing list. In
the midst of the chaos Seokjin pretended to focus intently on the contents of his menu, knowing
full well they wouldn’t consult him for his opinion. As far as his parents were concerned, they
already knew exactly what he wanted. Plucking up an ounce of courage he furtively peeked over
the menu’s edge, seeing that Taehyung was doing much of the same, studying its pages with
almost comical intensity. After a couple seconds, as if feeling Seokjin’s gaze upon him, Taehyung
too glanced up so that they finally locked eyes, neither of them looking away.
“How are you.” Taehyung mouthed silently. To which Seokjin mouthed back, “Good. You?”
“Good,” Taehyung replied, this time audibly.
Wispy silver strands tickled his lashes, the boy flicking them out of his eyes in a flippant manner.
A pretty habit. Skin glowing, radiating as if he’d been out in the sun. Seokjin wondered where
Taehyung had gone to get a tan like this, wondered what he’d been up to in the time they hadn’t
spoken. He was no longer active in the group chat, didn’t post much on social media either.
Everything remained a mystery, and Seokjin didn’t have a clue.
Once the parents came to a truce they called over the wait staff to put in their order, firing off
practically half the menu before sending the poor girl away.
Dinner conversation always began at square one; topics removed, of politics and the economy, of
celebrity gossip and the latest health fads, before it folded into personal matters; the kind of
schools Jeonggyu was applying to, something about the new skincare products Jimin’s mother was
using — “She looks ten years younger!” And then eventually, inevitably, the discussion trickled
down to the subjects at the table, of the two boys sitting quietly at the far end.
“Say, Taehyung-ah,” Seokjin’s mother leaned across the table. “Are you seeing anyone yet?
You’re almost done with university. It’s about time.”
He watched Taehyung’s jaw go slack as he tried to form a response, only for Mrs. Kim to cut in on
his behalf. “He isn’t,” she murmured, patting her son’s back.
With the highest discretion Seokjin raised an eyebrow at Taehyung, the kind of look that would’ve
gone unnoticed unless one was waiting for it. Just as subtly Taehyung responded with the slightest
shake of his head. Seokjin understood immediately. Nothing had changed. They were just lying.
“I find that hard to believe,” his mother tutted. “And why aren’t you? Such a handsome young
man. I’m sure girls are lining up wanting to date you.”
“I’m focusing on my studies right now,” Taehyung replied, like reading from a script.
“Yes, but you’re not in high school anymore. You can relax a little bit in university. At this point
it’s more about who you know.” A pause, as she replenished her plate with more banchan. “If you
need connections don’t be afraid to ask. We know a lot of people in Seoul. Quite a few in Daegu
too..”
“Thank you, eomeonim.”
“Besides. Our Seokjinnie managed to find someone while he was studying. You can too.”
He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, Seokjin unable to lift his gaze to the family
seated across from him.
There lingered a pause that felt a tad too long, unnatural, Seokjin’s eyes eventually landing on Mrs.
Kim in his diagonal line of vision, who at the moment appeared to be glitching; lips pursed, brows
furrowed. A strange reaction that he couldn’t begin to understand, and one that his own mother
didn’t seem to pick up on.
“Well, Seokjin is really smart, so he doesn’t have to study as hard as me,” Taehyung chuckled
gently. “I have to put in more effort.”
“Nonsense,” she clicked her tongue. “Your grades were just as good in high school. But your mom
must be so proud to hear you say things like this. What a sweet son you’ve got, Sunyoung-ah.”
“We’re very proud.” He could see Taehyung's mother reach for her son’s hand under the table.
“Make it a priority,” his own mother barreled on. “When you go out into the workforce you’re not
going to have opportunities like you do in school. It’s harder to meet people.” Another pause, as she
took a delicate nibble into a piece of grilled meat — and then somewhere mid-bite, a lightbulb
going off above her head. “Do you want me to set you up?”
It was difficult for Taehyung to mask his surprise this time, eyes widening to a pitiful size, shiny
and innocent. “No, it’s okay.”
To which she let out a laugh, endeared. “Why, are you nervous? You’ve never dated before?”
Taehyung was unraveling. Seokjin had seen this only a handful of times before. And in his undoing
he couldn’t help but glance at Seokjin before answering shakily, “No, I haven’t.”
“It’s nothing to be afraid of,” she assured him. “You’ll get the hang of it once you put yourself out
there. And if you change your mind let me know, okay?”
“Thank you, unnie,” Mrs. Kim cleared her throat. “Anyway, where’s Seokjung today? We
would’ve loved to see him.”
“Ah, he’s busy.”
For the rest of the dinner, Taehyung couldn’t look Seokjin in the eye; which was okay, because
neither could he. They ate in silence at their end of the table until the bill was cleared, everyone
rising from their seats in groans of satisfaction. This used to be Seokjin’s favorite restaurant
growing up. But as their party shuffled down the hallway and filed out of the doors, he felt a
sinking feeling festering in the pit of his stomach; he never wanted to eat there again.
The parents spent a long while bidding each other goodbye, exchanging numerous hugs and
animatedly making plans for “next time.” Taehyung and Seokjin stood idly by, watching, Seokjin
fidgeting restlessly with the phone in his hand. His eyes flitted upwards when he felt a warm palm
to his cheek, Mrs. Kim peering at him with a look of concern.
“Are you cold, darling?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled.
It was as the two families began parting their separate ways that Taehyung suddenly piped up.
“Hey. We’re actually gonna walk home.”
“Are you sure?” Seokjin’s mother cocked her head to the side. “It’s a bit chilly tonight.”
“Yeah. We’re gonna stop by the comic book store.”
Taehyung’s mother quickly waved them off. “Okay, okay. Go on and have fun. We’ll see you at
home.”
---
The last time they’d walked the very same path the leaves had been brown and dead, a layer of
them crunching under their feet. Now the leaves were strung high above their heads, lush and
green, ushering in summer.
They waved at the taillights of their parents’ cars as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the
main road, red fading to black, the world returning to a softened hush. Taehyung and Seokjin
walked side by side, the former appearing pensive, deep in thought, the latter’s thoughts too
jumbled to even attempt at sorting them.
So he simply blurted out the first thing on his mind.
“Why are you in Seoul?”
Taehyung peeked at him through long lashes, soft brown eyes in evening light. “I was visiting
Hyungsik. And I wanted to spend time with my parents before I left. But your mom called earlier
this morning and asked for us to get dinner, so.”
“I see.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come but…I suppose you did.”
“Yeah.”
A lapse in conversation as they halted at a crosswalk, cars passing sleepy and slow, crickets
chirping amongst the camphor trees. What did Taehyung possibly want to talk about, for him to go
out of his way like this? Why did it take every fiber of Seokjin’s being not to dive headfirst into a
bush?
“I’m sorry for what my mom said.”
“About what?”
“About the whole setting up thing. I feel like she crossed a line there. I’m sorry.”
They were moving again, green light beckoning them across the street and back onto the sidewalk.
“No, not really,” Taehyung shook his head. “I know she means well. You don’t have to apologize.”
“I know it made you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not that easily fazed.”
True.
“I hope you don’t think what we did back there was dishonest,” the boy continued, scuffing his
shoes against concrete. “My mom’s just trying to protect me, that’s all.”
“No, not at all.”

“And your mom, she…” Taehyung chewed on his lip, considering his next words. “She just
doesn’t know any better.”
Seokjin allowed that statement to marinate for a moment before deciding there was too much to
unpack and that he’d tackle it later. “Speaking of honesty. What my mom said back there.”
“Hmm?”
“About me having someone. I wanted to clarify what she meant.”
“Oh. Okay.”
They ducked underneath a set of low hanging branches, Taehyung emerging from the foliage first
and waiting for Seokjin to fall in line.
“That night in Hongdae,” he murmured breathlessly. “When we saw each other-”
“If we’re baring it all, can I be honest too?”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
“I already knew.”
Seokjin’s heart sank. “Oh. How?”
“Your mom told my mom a while ago. Got passed down the grapevine to me.”
He wondered when exactly Taehyung had found out, if it had been the final push he needed to give
up altogether. Wondered if that was the very reason he hadn’t wanted to tell Taehyung himself.
“That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you,” Taehyung began, as a mild breeze filtered past them,
stringing along with it a faint scent of honeysuckle. “I wanted to clear the air between us. To let
you know that I’ve known, and that I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“I mean to be fair, for a long time I didn’t. Had a gist of what you were going through but didn’t
understand the extent of it. And I kept pushing and pushing and I…” He took a deep breath,
overcome with guilt. “Of course you couldn’t. You can’t. You love your family.”
He was afraid of them, yes. But he loved them.
“So yeah,” Taehyung heaved a sigh, fiddling awkwardly with the hem of his sleeve. “I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for acting like I knew everything when I didn’t. I’ve been wanting to say this for a
while.”
“This isn’t something you have to apologize for, Tae.”
“But you got to apologize earlier, so now it’s my turn.”
“Are you really making this into a competition?”
“Well yeah. Did I win?”
Somehow it felt more like a lose-lose.
They strolled past the old comic book shop, its windows dark and lot empty, long closed for the
night. Last time it was closed too. It was never open past dinnertime, and if their parents paid any
attention, they’d know it was a shitty excuse.
“Would you say we’re friends?”
The question came out of left field, blindsiding Seokjin and causing him to flounder in his steps.
The words had left Taehyung so casually as if they didn’t matter, yet Seokjin overtly struggled
with the weight of it.
He wanted to say yes. Wanted to say it confidently, to believe that after all of these years, because
of all of these years, they still had something special. Wanted to say yes, of course; we’ve been
through so much. You know me better than I know myself. I can always — well, usually —
predict what you’re going to say before you say it. We’ve had our fair share of tears, snot and all.
Laughed until our bellies ached, too. Inside jokes. Secret glances. You held me when I was hurting.
You didn’t care if I could do the same for you in return.
But when he stepped back from it all and looked at the bigger picture, he knew that his honest
answer would sound a little different. For he no longer knew anything about the Taehyung standing
before him, that he might as well have been a stranger. An acquaintance rather, but somehow that
title stung even more. Seokjin had a lot of questions, questions he thought pointless to ask because
what did it matter if he knew? The summer internship in Daegu — are you enjoying it? Are you
learning a lot? Do you ever miss Seoul? Where did you get that tan? Did you go somewhere nice?
Who did you go with?
Are you happy with him?
No, forget Hyungsik. Forget everyone else. Just you. Are you happy?
“I’ll take that long pause as a resounding ‘no.’”
“No, no. It’s not that.”
“Then what?” Taehyung’s tone curious, gentle.
“It’s just…after all this time. If I’ve learned anything. I don’t know.” Seokjin took a deep breath.
“Feel like with us, it’s all or nothing, isn’t it?”
It was Taehyung’s turn to slip into silence, gaze fixed on his feet as they slowly ambled forward.
“Now who’s leaving me hanging?

“Sorry,” he chuckled sheepishly. “Just processing. I think I know what you mean.”
“I mean it wasn’t always like this.”
“-No, not at all.”
“Just once we crossed that line...there’s no going back.”
How could I go back, after you kissed me like that?
“Yeah.”
“I think we’ve tried the ‘friends’ thing so many times and we just kept fucking up.”
Taehyung nodded in agreement. “I’m probably to blame there.”
And Seokjin peered at him in waning starlight, wondered if Taehyung still believed that he had
been the only one in love. “That’s debatable.”
“So,” Taehyung began, licking his lips, cherry red. “Does that mean we’re ‘nothing’ now?”
“Well when you put it like that …”
“But ‘nothing’ isn’t all that bad when you think about it, is it? Like starting from zero.”
“Like starting from zero,” Seokjin repeated after Taehyung.
And then the boy was focused on his shoes again, getting lost for a moment before snapping his
head up as if he’d just awoken, glancing about until he landed upon Seokjin with a look of pleasant
surprise.
“Oh hi. I’m Kim Taehyung. Nice to meet you.”
Seokjin caught on quickly.
“Kim Seokjin. Nice meeting you as well.”
They shook hands.
“You’ve got a strong grip there,” Taehyung remarked with a smirk.
“Gotta make a good first impression.”
Their steps came to a standstill at a familiar crossroads, the diverging pathways largely abandoned
save for lone shadows shifting in the distance. Night had officially fallen over the city, everything
draped in deep blues. From where they stood they could spot the alcove of trees surrounding their
little park, a pang of nostalgia washing over Seokjin and filling him with yearning.
“I don’t wanna go home just yet, if that’s okay,” Taehyung confessed abruptly, as if reading his
mind.
“Oh. Sure.”
“Just wanna get to know you better, that’s all.”
They approached their trusty old bench, abandoned and littered with a layer of maple seeds and
burs, Taehyung dusting off the wood to make a clearing for the two of them. With careful
movements they lowered themselves so that they sat side by side, albeit with a respectable amount
of space in between, like strangers would. The fountain had completely dried up now, dead leaves
and sticks masking the bottom of it, the usual babbling of water gone and replaced by silence.
“Wanna listen to some music?” He watched as Taehyung pulled a set of headphones out of his
pocket, long fingers fumbling with the tangled wire. “I’ve got a pretty nice collection.”
Seokjin wondered how long he’d keep up the act. He certainly had no problem playing along.
“Show me what you got.”
They each fit one earbud into their respective ears, for a moment everything muffled like being
underwater. Taehyung scrolled with purpose through his various playlists, Seokjin sitting quietly at
his side, waiting. It’d been a long time since he'd listened to any music at all.
And so in a way, the music did sound like new.
It faded in like high tide, old-timey jazz filling his eardrums, swallowing his entire being, reeling
him back like a time machine. He couldn’t pinpoint the title of the song, never quite understood the
words, but something about it felt so terribly melancholy, bittersweet. He craned his neck to look
up at the trees, canopy swaying in the evening wind. The trees had grown since he’d last sat here.
So why did it feel like he hadn’t?
A gentle touch interrupted his thoughts, tentative and unsure.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered, shifting closer so that their knees knocked together, their arms
pressed firmly against one another. He leaned his head down so that it rested upon Seokjin’s
shoulder, taking a deep breath in then out, reminding Seokjin to breathe, too.
“I’m just so tired,” he continued, barely audible, hair tickling Seokjin’s cheek. “Can I rest here for
a while?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
He shifted in his seat so that Taehyung’s head fitted more comfortably in the crook of his neck.
Warm puffs of breath against his skin. Somewhere close, a chorus of cicadas. He closed his eyes,
wondered if somehow this was all a dream; and if it was, hoped that he would never have to wake.
---
Hong Kong was humid. The kind of wet heat where one could stand outside for two seconds and
become drenched in their own sweat. The father and son duo darted swiftly between lobbies and
cars, AC perpetually blasted on max.
Seokjin donned a custom suit for the trip, the fit of it slick and flattering but somehow
simultaneously drowning him, feeling as though he was swimming inside of it. He tried his best to
make himself useful, but realized his efforts were futile when the matters at hand went far above
his head. His father and the company CFO remained grim and firm in their negotiations, the
meetings with investors dragging on endlessly. The gist of it he understood, although he could
never imagine himself executing it in his father’s place. He’d always known that the man was
powerful, but only now did he understand the breadth of that power. It was when the deal was
reached and the contract signed that his father finally broke into a smile; not quite happy, more so
victorious. Like he was on top of the world and no one could touch him.
That’s my dad, Seokjin watched in awe as the man rose from his seat to shake hands with the men
across the table.
So why don’t I feel like his son?
To celebrate the company’s success the small team treated their clients to dinner at a rooftop bar
overlooking Kowloon Bay, the entire outdoor space sectioned off for their party. It was a grand
affair; drinks flowing, food pouring out of the kitchen in droves, a hazy orange sun setting in the
mountains on the other side of the water.
He’d never seen his father talk so much, the usually stoic and tight-lipped shell of a human coming
alive in the presence of strangers, hearty laughs and elaborate stories. And he couldn’t help but
wonder if his father was as miserable as he appeared to be when at home, in the presence of his
family.
But such thoughts were quickly pushed to the back of his mind as he was looped into the
conversation and proudly introduced as Kim Sajangnim’s son, the investors catching on and
greeting the presumed successor with equal fervor as his father. They took turns asking him
questions about his last year of school, showering him with compliments about his good looks and
polite manners, making empty remarks as to how alike the two of them were (they weren’t).
If he were to take a wild gamble, he could guess as to why his father was happier out here, in the
middle of a strange new city, surrounded by peculiar landscapes and foreign tongues. For at the
very least they were thousands of miles away from the stark realities of Seoul. The last time he’d
traveled out of Korea was sometime in middle school, before academics overwhelmed every aspect
of his life. This was cathartic, he could admit as much. He watched ships glide silently in the water
beyond the glass, watched the lights in the hills opposite them blink on in the dusty evening haze.
The party bled late into the night, extending well past closing hours, the investors piss drunk by
the time they were stuffed into their individual cars and sent home. Somehow still standing and
with an impressive air of sobriety, Seokjin’s father footed the bill then hailed their own driver to
take them back to the hotel.
They slid into the backseat of the sedan, each of them sidled up to a window, the aircon at full
capacity but Seokjin craving for night wind between his fingers, ultimately rolling down his
window and dangling an arm out of it. His father didn’t protest.
“What did you think?” He finally asked Seokjin as their car pulled off of the highway and onto
smaller city roads.
Seokjin peeled his eyes away from the neon lights. “A lot to take in,” he admitted. “But a good
learning experience.”
“So you see?” His father smiled, absentmindedly toying with the phone in his hand. “Learning
doesn’t stop at school. You’ll probably learn more working with me than all of your school years
combined. That’s why your mother and I didn’t push you too hard.”
“True.” Their conversations usually went something like this. Pleasant, agreeable. Seokjin never
dared otherwise.
“Someday you’re going to learn even more than me, believe it or not,” he continued wistfully.
“You’re gonna beat out your old man.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t downplay yourself,” he chided lightly as their car slowed to a halt at the entrance of their
hotel. “You’re my son, after all. I’m proud of you.”
His jaw went slack at his father’s last words, his body moving on autopilot as they stepped out of
the vehicle and through the revolving doors of the glittering lobby. He couldn’t remember the last
time his father had ever uttered I’m-proud-of-you in succession, directed at him. It wasn’t that he
was a harsh parent; if anything, his mother had been a bit more strict with Seokjin in his
upbringing. Rather, he was absent. He wasn’t there. And even if he was, his mind was always
elsewhere, as if he were looking right past Seokjin. So what did he possibly see in his son to make
him supposedly proud?
And why — upon hearing such coveted words — did Seokjin feel so empty?
When the elevator let them out onto their floor with a gentle “ding,” the two returned to their own
separate rooms, his father bidding him a curt wave and a smile before disappearing behind the
door. Seokjin slid his keycard into the slot, the door opening to a dark room, windows overlooking
an impassive skyline. He wondered how many nights like this he’d experience in his lifetime.
---
Their flight back to Seoul was delayed, severely so. Stubborn storms looming over the city, typical
monsoon season bullshit. When they’d finally landed in Incheon four and a half hours behind
schedule, Seokjin’s father booked them two separate cars; one to take Seokjin home first, and
another to take himself to the office. Apparently he had more work to be done.
Seokjin passed out cold in the car. He woke to the sound of the driver gently coaxing him out of
his slumber, eyes blinking open to the familiar outline of his parents’ complex in milky dusk.
Still heavy with sleep he rolled his carry-on clumsily into the foyer, the lights in the apartment
mostly out save for a small spotlight illuminating the kitchen. Bent over the stove in a manner of
focus was his brother Seokjung, something brewing at his beckoning; whatever it was, it smelled
delicious.
“Oh, you’re back?” Seokjung swiveled his head to spot his younger brother toeing off his shoes at
the doorway.
“Yeah,” came Seokjin’s groggy response.
“Go unpack then come back. I made enough for the two of us.”
Eager to get a taste of whatever Seokjung was making, Seokjin beelined to his room with haste,
tossing his luggage to the side and ripping off his business attire, frustrated grunts and all. He
rummaged through his dresser until he found an old pair of pajamas to slip into, the hem of the
pants riding well above his ankles.
By the time he’d hurried back to the kitchen, Seokjung was already stirring the Chapagetti sauce
into the Neoguri noodles, a slew of other ingredients jostled in the mixture; hard boiled eggs,
kielbasa sausage, sliced radish kimchi, everything within the pot glimmering and gorgeous.
“You’re gonna drool in the food, kiddo.”
Seokjin took a step back. “Sorry.”
“Go get utensils and set up the table.”
With their parents absent they skipped the bowls and formalities, digging straight out of the pot,
sauce dripping onto the table.
“Where’s eomma?”
“She went out. Dunno where. I think she got tired of waiting for you guys.”
“Yeah. God, we sat on the tarmac for three hours.”
“That blows.”
“First class had a lot of nice snacks though.”
They retrieved some beers from the fridge, Seokjung uncapping both of their bottles, the two
brothers clinking ceremoniously before resuming their humble dinner. A whole bunch of cheap shit
thrown together, really. But there in the dim light of the dining room, just the two of them, no one
else; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten such a satisfying meal.
“How was the trip and all?”
“Good. Tiring. Even though for most of it I was just sitting there, lookin pretty.”
“Don’t speak so highly of yourself,” Seokjung teased, taking another swig from his beer.
“Have you been to Hong Kong before, hyung?”
“No. I heard it’s hot though.”
“It’s worse than Seoul, if you can believe it.”
They worked through the Chapaguri at a frightening pace, soon the bottom of the pot wiped clean,
Seokjin’s stomach slowly catching up to his brain. Seokjung maneuvered back to the fridge, asking
Seokjin if he wanted another beer, to which he declined. He watched as his brother rummaged
through various contents until he located a bottle of soju, retrieving a couple of shot glasses before
returning to the table.
Seokjin was to return to his apartment sometime the next morning. But for the first time in a long
while, home didn’t feel like such a terrible place.
“You won’t believe what dad said to me though,” he murmured as his brother poured each of them
a generous shot.
“What did he say?”
They slung their shots back, alcohol scalding their throats, Seokjin maintaining his poker face as he
delivered the grand reveal. “He said he was proud of me.”
To which Seokjung widened his eyes, taken aback.
“Whoa.”
“I know right?”
“How do you feel?”

Seokjin stared out of the window, watched the trees beyond it swaying in the muggy heat, that
same mugginess taking over as he replayed his father’s words in his head.
“It didn’t feel good.”
A hush fell over their table, Seokjung decidedly pouring another round for the two of them as he
waited for Seokjin to elaborate. When he didn’t, Seokjung cleared his throat instead.
“I mean. You should be proud of yourself, Jin.”
“Yeah but…I can’t wrap my mind around it. Feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear this
from him, and when I finally do…”
“Can I just be honest with you?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“You don’t need it.”
“Someone else telling you that they’re proud of you.”
“Oh.”
“I’m never going to hear it from him in my lifetime,” Seokjung confessed. “And I’m okay. I will be
okay. And you will too.”
---
The sun was setting over the hills of Gyeongnidan, gold on green, the end of summer. Soon
everything would burn a fiery red, leaves bursting into flame. Through the glare of the sun he could
spot Namsan tower in the distance; tall and proud, glittering in afternoon light. He stared at it for a
long while before finally tearing his eyes away. Hyungsik was calling his name. “Jimin. Jimin!
Look at this. It’s you, I swear.” He looked at whatever it was on Hyungsik’s phone and laughed.
It was lucky of them to snag a table by the rooftop’s edge at golden hour. The space had quickly
filled up in the last thirty minutes or so, most of the newcomers resorting to standing on the
peripherals. Jimin took another generous sip of his cocktail, well into his third, Hyungsik to his left
also on his third and beating him by a hair, Taehyung on his right having barely made a dent in his
beer and already tipsy.
The atmosphere was good. It was Jimin’s very first time coming to this bar, the boy feeling
somewhat cheated that he’d lived in Seoul for so long without knowing of it. And the mood was
good too, for both Hyungsik and Taehyung were in high spirits; Taehyung having just completed
his summer internship at the design agency, sneaking in one last visit to Seoul before his final
semester would begin.
Their final semester.
He couldn’t believe it, how quickly time had slipped past them, how it felt like just yesterday that
the two of them were running through the halls of their middle school, sneakers squeaking against
the tile, backpacks bouncing against their shoulders. Speaking of shoulders, the two used to stand
at equal height, leveled in stature. But the Taehyung presently beside him dwarfed him in size,
Jimin making note of it and straightening his posture so that he sat taller.
With a contented sigh he reached a hand into Taehyung’s hair, fingers running through his newly
colored locks. Wild child was always changing his colors.
“You look like a grape,” Jimin chuckled, pushing the hair back affectionately from his sweaty
forehead. “Why’d you choose purple?”
“It’s lavender,” Taehyung corrected him, words slurring. “Pretty, no?” He batted his lashes for
good measure.
“Prettiest,” Jimin concurred. To which Taehyung leaned into Jimin’s shoulder with delight,
nuzzling into his collarbone with small squeaks of satisfaction. Hyungsik was used to Jimin and
Taehyung’s brazen displays of affection. He never really got jealous.
“How are you still fine,” the boy drawled drunkenly against his neck.
“How are you like this already.”
“I’m.” Hiccup. “Gonna use the potty.”
“You need one of us to go with you?”
“I can handle it myself! ”
With a sassy wave and a precarious sway he rose from his seat and trudged towards the restrooms,
Hyungsik and Jimin watching his disappearing form with amusement before returning their
attention to the drinks at hand. With alarming speed Hyungsik inhaled the last of his cocktail,
letting out a contented sigh then tapping impatiently upon the table.
“Come on, keep up.”
To which Jimin obliged, tossing back the rest of his drink and slamming down his empty glass in
triumph.
They quickly flagged down a waiter and ordered another round just for them, plus a much needed
refill on Taehyung’s water. Once the two were left alone again, it was hard to miss the way
Hyungsik’s legs jiggled with excitement, the smirk playing across his lips that he tried so
desperately to conceal. The older boy was already upbeat as it was, but it was as if his energy was
dialed up several notches that day. Narrowing his eyes, Jimin leaned forward in his growing
suspicion: “What’s with you.”
“Can I tell you.”
“Well I’m asking, aren’t I?”
“Can I show you, actually?”

Catching Jimin off guard, the boy blinking back his surprise. “Let’s see it.”
He fumbled under the table for quite some time, digging into his pocket and retrieving an item
from it; an unmistakable box, black velvet, dainty and precious within his large palm. Jimin held
his breath as Hyungsik eased the box open, the object inside catching the sun, the glint of it
glaring. White gold.
“Can I?” He whispered, Hyungsik nodding in consent.
Carefully he pried the ring out of its insert, the metal cold against his skin, smooth to the touch. A
tiny diamond was encrusted in the center, Jimin turning the band from side to side, light filtering
through the jewel like a kaleidoscope. He tried to imagine the ring seated on Taehyung’s finger and
found himself struggling to picture it.
Taehyung was so young.
They all were. But Taehyung.
We haven’t even graduated yet, Jimin took a sharp inhale, exhale, panic rising. Taehyung still
played League with Jungkook. Still couldn’t handle his alcohol. The boy who still called him after
a bad nightmare. His hair, his purple hair. Marriage was such a grown up thing. Hyungsik was a
grown up. Taehyung …Jimin shook his head indignantly, but still couldn’t shake the feeling;
Taehyung was a baby.
“Wow,” he managed to stammer as he handed the ring back to Hyungsik, who took a second to
admire it before tucking it away again.
“It’s happening,” Hyungsik grinned, ear to ear.
“It’s happening.”
Mere moments later they heard a commotion behind them as Taehyung came skipping back from
the bathroom, settling into the seat beside Jimin once more and cozying up against him.
Jimin could feel his warmth, all encompassing. Hoped that his happiness would overflow in the
very same way.
---
Hyungsik’s father had wanted to treat the entire group to a fancy meal, but the Kim’s insisted on
staying home and cooking together instead. It was a packed household when all of the siblings
were added to the equation; Taehyung’s little brother and sister brawling with Hyungsik’s older
brother over video games in the living room (the latter deliberately losing to the former), both of
their parents squeezed into the kitchen, moving about like bumper cars, cooking up a storm.
Perhaps more bodies than the small home could contain and certainly more hands than necessary
in the kitchen, but the air was thick with joy and laughter and Taehyung wouldn’t have it any other
way.
Dinner proved to be just as loud and chaotic, drinking and merriment prolonging late into the
evening, Taehyung’s parents blasting 80’s classics from their old stereo, everyone humming along,
at times belting at the top of their lungs. Extra chairs had to be pulled from every other room of the
house, Taehyung swiveling in his creaky office chair, Hyungsik seated in a plastic folding one to
his left, his arm draped comfortably around Taehyung’s shoulder.
Throughout the entire affair Hyungsik had remained uncharacteristically quiet, although not the
kind of quiet that merited concern. A hint of nervous energy, a faraway, pensive look. “You okay
babe?” Taehyung whispered, placing a hand on the boy’s thigh and giving him a comforting
squeeze. “Never better,” Hyungsik confessed, planting a firm kiss to Taehyung’s temple.
It was after they’d emptied the last bottle of soju that Hyungsik finally cleared his throat to make a
toast, urging the rest of the group to simmer down and turn their attention to him.
“Thank you, eomeonim, abeonim for allowing us to infiltrate your beautiful home once again,” he
nodded towards Taehyung’s tipsy parents, who chuckled sheepishly in response. “Thank you
for…” He paused in his speech, voice trembling just the slightest amount. “…Always embracing
both me and my family. As loud and obnoxious as us Parks are, you’ve accepted us wholly as your
own. It almost feels like a shame that we’ve only met just this year. Like we should’ve known each
other for much longer.”
Taehyung watched his boyfriend intently, his eyes not peeling away even for a second. Hyungsik
had made plenty of toasts and speeches during their joint family dinners. This one, for some
reason, felt different.
[ ♪ Tears ]
“I always say this to others, but I don’t think I say this enough to you.” He turned so that he locked
eyes with Taehyung, who beamed sweetly back at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever
happened to me.”
A shy giggle, as Hyungsik pressed on, growing in fervor.
“You’ve given me so much in the time that we’ve been together. Given me a lot of joy, laughter.
Given me butterflies. Everyday, even to this day. Given me a second family, a second home. You
gave me grace on days I didn’t deserve it. And yeah, sometimes, you’ve given me a headache or
two. But I’m sure I’ve returned the favor tenfold.” The table joined in with endeared laughter. “But
more than anything, you’ve given me a reason to get up in the morning. A hope, a future.”
Taehyung held his breath.
“A future that I can’t imagine without you being by my side,” he murmured softly, hand reaching
not so subtly into his pocket, shaking like a leaf as he brought the little velvet box to eye level.
Everything was blurring together, large tears muddling his vision, Taehyung hastily wiping them
away as he caught the faint shimmer of a diamond.
“I hope I’m not asking too much of you,” Hyungsik whispered, breaking into a lovesick smile.
“But can you give me just one more thing? Just one more?”
A sniff from somewhere else around the table as Taehyung nodded meekly.
“Will you marry me?”
His shoulders shook with sobs as he nodded once more.
It was a different kind of chaos that ensued shortly after, pure fanfare and jubilee, parents and
children hugging and kissing, Hyungsik pulling Taehyung into an embrace, wiping away at his
cheeks before gently fitting the band onto his left ring finger, Taehyung holding out his hand and
gasping at the sight of it before leaning in for a tender kiss to remember the moment by.
“Oppa’s getting married!” Eonjin teased, as if it was something to be embarrassed of. “Can I be the
flower girl?”
“Okay you’re way too big to be a flower girl,” Hyungsik shot back, the girl huffing in mock
offense.
“Oppa, divorce him. Immediately.”
“Well I gotta marry him first to do that, don’t I?” Taehyung laughed, leaning in for one more;
warm and tender, unhurried and true.
---
“I always dream about family dinners. I think about this more than anything. Yours and mine
together. Everyone laughing, having a good time. A dinner where I won’t have to hold your hand
under the table but I get to put my arm around you and kiss your forehead in front of everyone and
it would be okay.”
“You love me?”
“Yeah. That’s why I want you to find someone great. Someone who can do all of those things with
you.”
Chapter End Notes
I want to apologize for continually delaying this chapter. As you can see this was a
hefty update and drained a lot of energy from me haha.
These days I've been feeling very...down, blue for no reason at all. The first scene is a
reflection of that. For a long time I believed I had to have a good reason to be sad, and
I'd get frustrated at myself when that sadness would overwhelm me for unmerited
reasons. I am only recently coming to terms that that's okay. If you struggle with the
same thing, I hope you know that whatever pain you feel is valid. Pain is pain.
Hope you guys enjoyed reading. As always, please let me know your thoughts in the
comments below. I prefer reading your feedback here as opposed to Twitter because
Twitter makes me anxious as fuck.
Take care. <3

Chapter Notes
He broke the news on Instagram first, then minutes later shared it in the group chat. Seokjin just
happened to see the post before the message.
He scrolled through the series of pictures from left to right, right to left, over and over again like a
broken machine. Scrutinized the details of the ring, the tacky diamond in the center. Zoomed in on
the background, picking up details that were all too familiar; dishware he’d eaten out of, the old,
weathered wood of the Kim family dining room table. A sliver of Jeonggyu’s smile, big and bright
under the evening sun.
How odd. He’d always figured that Hyungsik would propose in Daegu, perhaps in the place where
the two had first met (Seokjin wasn’t sure where that might be), or maybe even by the lake; the
scenery would’ve served as a nice canvas. But for whatever reason he’d decided to do it in Seoul,
and of all places in the one that Seokjin practically considered a second home. Taehyung’s home.
“Congratulations!” He typed out before hitting send, his well wishes getting lost in the barrage of
texts pouring in from the rest of the group.
I have no right to be sad, Seokjin thought to himself as he muted the group chat, then tossed his
phone to the side. I already knew this was coming.
But if the first time felt like getting hit by a truck, the second time felt like being left there to die.
---
On the last warm day of autumn (although they wouldn’t know it) their little hodge-podge squad
sprawled out on the basketball court, sweat rolling off of their skin and dripping puddles onto the
concrete. Sungmin and Jimin sat on either side of Seokjin, a couple of other regulars seated across
from the little trio, engaged in idle post-game chit chat.
“Fucking hot,” Jimin murmured, wrestling his shirt off of his shoulders and letting it hang limp
around his neck. Sungmin followed suit by dumping the rest of his water over his head. Seokjin
remained rather motionless, toying with a blade of grass between his fingertips.
The sun was setting over Konkuk campus now, dousing everything in a stunning rose gold. They
paused in their conversation to watch the yolk of it dip behind the surrounding buildings, waiting
until it was completely gone before turning their attention back to one another. “What do you want
to do for dinner?” Sungmin asked, beckoning for Seokjin to hand over the towel slung over his
gym bag. “Not super hungry,” Seokjin admitted, tossing the item his way. It was as Sungmin
pushed back his sopping wet hair that a rowdy group of boys strolled past their court, loud and
bumbling, one of them suddenly tearing himself away from the pack upon spotting Seokjin and
Sungmin.
“Taejoon?” Seokjin exclaimed, recognizing their old roommate after a gratuitous double take.
“YAH!” Taejoon bellowed as he came to a halt in front of them, giving the two a forceful
handshake before diving into run-of-the-mill small talk. It’d been years, it seemed, since Seokjin
had seen his freshman year roommate on campus; or maybe he simply hadn’t looked carefully
enough. Gone were the boy’s streaky highlights and tacky jewelry, replaced instead by a pair of
smart-looking tortoise shell frames and a breezy linen button-down.
They kicked the shit for a good couple minutes until his little group on the side started to look
antsy. “Nice seeing you guys again,” Taejoon wrapped up the conversation. “We should get dinner
sometime.” Seokjin knew that would never come into fruition. “And you,” Taejoon pointed at
Jimin as he backed away towards his friends. “Nice bod.” To which Jimin offered a flirty wink in
return.
“He certainly cleaned up well,” Seokjin remarked once Taejoon was out of earshot.
“I know. I’m shocked,” Sungmin laughed. “Feel like the opposite happened for me. I gained so
much weight.”
“It’s a good thing. Could’ve snapped you in half when we first met.”
A contented sigh, as the lamps overhead flickered on in the waning light. “Time fucking flies,
doesn’t it?”
Jimin and Sungmin were not friends. Not that they didn’t get along; the two of them had a knack
for clicking with just about anyone. In a silent agreement, they seemed to understand that their
relationship hinged on two things and two things only; Seokjin and basketball, nothing more,
nothing less. Yet they could’ve fooled anyone, the way they spoke to one another as if they’d
known each other all their lives.
“Too fast,” Jimin concurred. “I can’t believe we’re gonna graduate soon.”
“I KNOW. I can’t wait. I’m so over school, fuck. Can’t wait for real life.”
To which Seokjin opened his mouth as if to say something before closing it abruptly.
“Are you interviewing right now?” Jimin asked.
“Yeah, like crazy. You?”
“Same.”
“It’s stressful, isn’t it?”
“Oh for sure. Feel like my resume’s shit compared to everyone else.”
“But it’s kinda fun too. I’m enjoying the hustle.”
“Well that makes one of us.”
He listened as his friends lamented over the many woes of job hunting, eventually tuning them out
to focus on the evening breeze instead, cool wind skirting against his skin, the last of the fireflies
waking in the dark, Seokjin wishing that time would have some mercy and slow down just a little
for him.
---
“You’re really not hungry?”

“Told you, I had a big lunch.”
“Jimin. How ‘bout you. Wanna come with us?”
The boy glanced between the two of them, Seokjin and Sungmin, before declining with a soft
smile. “Nah, I’m okay too. Go on without us.”
Daylight was slipping away rapidly now, campus reduced to a pleasant hush, most of the students
having already returned to their dorms for the night. “Wanna go for a walk?” Jimin suggested,
slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Seokjin was always down for a nice evening stroll.
They meandered towards the pathways of the lake, the wind picking up as they neared the water,
goosebumps rising on Jimin’s exposed skin, a shiver escaping from his lips. Wordlessly Seokjin
paused in his step to set down his gym bag and unzip his hoodie, prying the clothing off of his
back and draping it over Jimin’s narrow shoulders. With unbridled delight Jimin burrowed his arms
through the sleeves, the tips of his fingers barely making it past the hems. He was practically
drowning in the fabric. Seokjin’s heart did something of a jig.
In slow, unhurried steps they paced along the footpath, pinks draining out of the sky, dusty blues
taking their place. “The leaves are starting to change already,” Jimin pointed out as he fished
through his bag for his polaroid camera. A click, as he aimed the lens at a small pocket of gold in
the trees, whirring of machine as the film dispensed from the bottom. “Too dark,” he pouted, as the
picture finally materialized, muted colors. And then without warning, a flash as Jimin snapped a
photo of Seokjin instead, catching him off guard and momentarily blinding him.
The second picture came out well. A bit blurry but in an artistic, avant-garde way, Seokjin’s sharp
profile contrasting nicely with the dark background. “Not bad, eh?” Jimin grinned, showing
Seokjin the final product. “Boy, am I lucky.”
“What do you mean, lucky?” Seokjin questioned with a chuckle.
“That I have such good looking friends.”
“God.”
“Here,” he handed over the polaroid with a flourish, Seokjin accepting it tentatively. “You keep
this.”
He ogled at the image of himself staring back at him, hooded lids and sweat slicked hair, mouth
stupidly agape like a fish out of water. Why would I want a photo of myself? Seokjin mused, prying
the camera out of Jimin’s hands as he came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk.
“Stand right there,” he directed, Jimin’s eyes widening as he caught on to Seokjin’s intentions.
“Like this?”
“Move a little more, more to your right.”
“Here?”
“Yeap. That’s good. Stay there.”
They huddled their heads together as they waited for the film to develop, Jimin’s outline slowly
blooming into view, face framed by a tiny “peace” sign, apples of his cheeks rising like bread, eyes
crinkled into little crescent moods, wisps of blonde peeking out from underneath the baggy hood.
“I’ll keep this one,” Seokjin smirked, maintaining a stubborn hold on the photo of Jimin. “You can
have mine.” He handed his own portrait back to his friend, who obliged without protest, digging
out his wallet and wiggling the photo into the clear plastic sleeve.
“Looks like we’re dating,” Jimin declared proudly.
“Can you imagine.”
“Oh honey,” Jimin tutted. “You’re lucky I’m your friend, not your lover.”
To which Seokjin tilted his head in surprise. “Why?”

“You couldn’t handle me, sweetheart.”
He let out a hearty laugh, then wondered exactly what it would look like, Jimin settled down in a
proper relationship. In the — (he did the math in his head) — seven years they’d been friends, not
once had Jimin confided in Seokjin with a crush, let alone the slightest hint of interest in anyone at
all. The itch to ask grew and grew until it gnawed at his insides, words sitting precariously at the
tip of his tongue when a loud growl cut through the stillness, the source of it from the pit of
Jimin’s stomach.
“Oops.”
“You ARE hungry,” Seokjin gasped, scandalized.
“Am not.”
“You’re lying to my face.”
A flurry of giggles. “I’m nottttt,” he whined, a pretty grin stretching across his lips. He’s acting
extra cute today because he knows he’s cute, Seokjin studied with disdain. Perhaps Jimin was
right, in that Seokjin couldn’t handle it; he was adorable to the point of terrifying.
“Liar.”
But it was hard to miss, the way Seokjin fumbled endlessly with the photo between his fingers, a
slight upward tick at the corners of his mouth as he sneaked another glance at it. “Who’s prettier,”
Jimin demanded. “Me or the scenery?”
“The scenery,” Seokjin replied plainly without looking up from the polaroid.
“Heartless.”
“Hey. Let’s get something to eat,” he finally snapped his head up, tucking the picture into his back
pocket. “What’re you in the mood for?”
All but two seconds for Jimin to come up with an answer. “I could really use some fried chicken
and beer.”
“Let’s go. My treat.”
---
Taehyung hated packing with every fiber of his being.
When Hyungsik was moving out of his old apartment, Taehyung had tried his best to offer a
helping hand, only to fall asleep on the carpet halfway through the process. Hyungsik hadn’t
bothered to wake him.
But packing up his own room (to his horror) proved to be far worse. Why did I bring so much shit
to university? He fumed as he sorted through mountains of unused clothes, books, knick knacks he
couldn’t bother to trace back their origins, all the while cursing his past self. Hoarder. He ended up
dumping more than half of his belongings into either the donation pile or trash, packing only a
modest amount into actual boxes.
He stood by the doorframe and surveyed his room, barren and blank save for the stacks of boxes
gathered in the center. He’d called this space home for just shy of a year, not enough time to get
attached to it. And in all fairness he hadn’t exactly given the place a proper chance; he was hardly
at the apartment during his final year, running back and forth between Daegu and Seoul instead.
The living room remained lively as ever, his two roommates lounging about on the long sofa, all of
the furniture and decor still intact, albeit a tad cleaner than usual. Taehyung’s replacement would
be arriving the following afternoon. Jeongwoo and Eungi were keen on making a good first
impression.
“All done?” Eungi perked at the sound of Taehyung emerging from his room.
“All done.”
“I can’t believe it,” Jeongwoo cried, evidently devastated. “Can I look?”
“Sure.”
He chuckled as Jeongwoo scrambled out of his seat, padding over to his open doorway to peek
inside. “This is SO sad,” he gasped. “What are we gonna do without our favorite roommate?”
“I’ll be back in a month for graduation. Don’t be dramatic.”
When in fact Jeongwoo and drama were practically synonymous, the boy teetering wildly between
everything is great, the best, amazing, versus my life is falling apart, it’s the worst, I’m burning in
hell. After four years of casual friendship and one year of living together, Taehyung learned not to
take any of his words too seriously. Yet as Jeongwoo whipped back around to rejoin the two in the
living room, looking upon Taehyung with big puppy eyes, part of Taehyung chose to believe it; that
he was indeed the best roommate they’d ever had.
The trio hailed a cab to a restaurant near Daegu Station, Taehyung settled in the backseat beside
Jeongwoo, Eungi in the front with the driver. For most of the car ride Jeongwoo babbled on about
a funny incident he’d witnessed earlier at the dining hall on campus, Taehyung trying his best to
keep up with the story, Eungi half listening and making small talk with the ahjussi instead.
Night had already descended upon the city, autumn taking its last breath and giving way to cold
winter. He watched Daegu’s scenery zip past, everything blurring together, the past four years
blurring together, stirring up inside of him a muddled mess he thought he’d buried.
He wasn’t ready.
It was a lovely little restaurant Jeongwoo had picked out; aesthetics on point, the food perfectly
acceptable, perhaps a tad overpriced. They spent the next couple of hours reminiscing on their time
in university, then pondering over the boundless possibilities of their future. Jeongwoo and Eungi,
both being Daegu natives, would stay in their city and further their careers at home-base; Eungi
already lined up with a job, Jeongwoo furiously interviewing and exhausted by the process.
And Taehyung had it all figured out, as the two frequently reminded him. “You’re moving to the
big city, you’ve got a solid offer at a good company, fancy ass apartment, handsome hubby waiting
for you. You’re basically set!” Jeongwoo rattled off for the nth time, shaking Taehyung excitedly
by the shoulders.
“Did you ever think your life would look like this?” Eungi asked, amused.
To which Taehyung shook his head earnestly. “No, I didn’t.”
After one too many selfies and even one group photo taken by the waitress, they filed out of the
restaurant and loitered on the sidewalk, stretching their full bellies with sighs of contentment.
“Anything else you wanna do?” Jeongwoo pressed Taehyung as Eungi stepped aside to indulge in
a cigarette. “It’s your last night, after all.”
“Wanna go to the lake?” Eungi piped up between puffs. “One last time? For old time’s sake?”
Jeongwoo lit up at the proposition, so much so that Taehyung felt guilty for the feeling of dread
overtaking him; that he didn’t want to go anywhere near the lake, and he couldn’t explain why.
“I’m okay, actually.”
“Why?” Jeongwoo widened his eyes in surprise. “But it’s iconic! Classic Daegu. And you spent so
much time there. Aren’t you gonna miss it?”
“That’s just it,” Taehyung joked. “I think it’ll make me too emotional if we go.” He wondered if
his words were in fact a half truth.
“Aigooo. This sentimental baby,” Jeongwoo pinched his cheeks. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you home
then.”
They took the return journey via bus to save money, the three of them lucky enough to find vacant
seats by the windows. As they neared their apartment complex they passed the familiar tree-line of
campus, Taehyung vividly remembering the first time he saw Kyungpook’s proud silhouettes, the
fear and the awe that had simultaneously gripped him, the boy who hadn’t known anything. All of
the street names once foreign and scary, he now knew like the back of his hand.
And now I have to leave — it dawned on him, a shaky exhale escaping from his lips.
He strode past his darkened room and beelined straight for the living area, plopping himself down
on the couch and burrowing into its plush, cheek pressed firmly against a tattered throw pillow,
breathing in the warm, musty scent he’d grown accustomed to but couldn’t quite place. He curled
up in the mess of blankets, listened quietly as Eungi and Jeongwoo tinkered around in the kitchen
(arguing over who drank the last bottle of soju) and realized, with a certain heaviness, that he didn’t
want to go. He didn’t want to go back to Seoul.
He didn’t want to see anyone. Not Yoongi nor Hoseok, both of whom would arrive in the city the
same time as Taehyung. Not Namjoon nor his girlfriend Daisy, who was finally accompanying him
on his holiday trip to Korea. Not even Jimin, or Jungkook, or anyone else he could possibly run
into. Hyungsik and his parents would be driving down bright and early the next morning to help
load his things in the car and move him into Hyungsik’s apartment. For a moment he seriously
considered calling and asking them to delay it another day.
For suddenly the rest of the world felt like too much, but everything inside their apartment was just
enough. He could hear his two roommates rummaging noisily through their fridge, finally digging
out a forgotten bottle of makgeolli and sharing a triumphant high five.
“Taehyung-ah,” Eungi cried. “I know you don’t drink but…wanna make an exception?”
“Whatcha got?” Taehyung peeked over the back of the couch.
“Chestnut makgeolli. Good shit.”
And to all of their surprise, Taehyung nodded. “Sure.”
They brought the half drunken bottle and three earthen bowls to the living room coffee table, Eungi
doling out generous portions and carefully handing Taehyung his. After a ceremonious clink and
some commemorative words they each threw the liquor back, Taehyung relishing in the coolness
of it running down his throat, willing his mind to fixate on that simple sensation instead.
It wasn’t like himself, the drinking. But then again, he hadn’t felt like himself in a long time.
---
Seokjin only visited the lake once more after that. Picked up a vanilla latte at Holly’s, wandered
along the perimeter until he reached the little bridge overlooking the water. Pondered all of his life
choices up to that point. Rubbed his tired eyes and drained the last of his drink. Four years had
come and gone. And outstretched before him, infinity.
There was no fanfare, no trumpets, no cheering when he walked out of his last final. Just a small
“ding” of a text from Yoongi, asking if he had finished, if he was ready to meet for dinner.
Yoongi: I’m starving
Yoongi: Please tell me you’re done.
Yoongi: Idk how long I can wait anymore
Seokjin: I just finished
Seokjin: Calm yourself
They agreed to meet outside of Jongno 3-ga station, Seokjin shivering as he stepped off of the bus
and into the chill, clutching the puffy coat even tighter around his body as he paused at a crosswalk
and waited for the green. A light tap on his left shoulder prompted him to whip around, only to find
a vacant curbside. Another tap on his right, this time Yoongi not ducking quite fast enough for
Seokjin’s eagle-eyed gaze.
“Idiot,” Seokjin muttered under his breath, earning a cheeky grin from his friend.
They strolled up and down the bustling pocha street until Yoongi declared he was tired of walking,
the two settling on a friendly vendor serving savory plates of najkibokkum. They feasted late into
the December evening, cold soju pairing quite wonderfully with the hot and spicy octopus. Took
turns sharing snippets of their last year of school, the good, bad, the ugly.
“I almost failed a class,” Yoongi admitted, running his hands down his face in shame.
“No way.”
“Yeah. Was this close to not graduating.”

“Holy shit. You made it. That’s all that matters.”
Another clink of glasses, another bottle emptied. “Two more sojus, please!” The ahjumma
acknowledged their request somewhere on the far side of the tent.
“Lucky that you’re not jumping straight into work,” Seokjin remarked. “Most people I know are.”
“I need a break, Jin,” Yoongi heaved a weighty sigh. “I mean, think about it. When was the last
time any of us caught a break? You go from daycare to elementary school. Elementary to middle
school. Middle school to hell. Hell to university. University to the goddamn inferno. I think we all
deserve a break, actually. Especially you.”
“In my dreams.”
“Yeah. I know, I feel you. I mean I can’t dick around for too long either. A couple months at most
and then I’ll be joining the rest of you guys.”
“You know what you’re gonna do?”
“Travel,” Yoongi replied without missing a beat. “And I don’t mean the kind where you’re running
around everywhere like a headless chicken. Gonna go to the countryside of Japan, check out the
hot springs, hit up some beach towns. Really take my time with it. Do some soul searching.”
“You know what I love?”
“What.”
“That you’re so invested in this self-care thing. It’s doing you good, I can tell.”
An embarrassed chuckle from Yoongi before he cleared his throat. “How so?”
“I mean it’s winter in Seoul and your skin looks like that. ”
The tipsy boy opposite him held up three slender fingers. “Hot yoga.” He hiccuped. “Daily baths.”
All but one finger down. “And washing your face with milk.”
“Milk?”
“Yeap. Like milk from the grocery store.”
“Jesus. How much do you go through in a week?”
“Enough for my roommates to fucking hate me.”
“Cheers. Proud of you.”
A pleasant silence passed as they each let out a satisfied hiss, alcohol scorching their throats and
warming their tummies. Sheepish nods of gratitude, as the ahjumma hurried over to clear their
empty glasses, placing two fresh bottles of soju between them.
“Going to Tae’s housewarming?”
Seokjin’s eyes fluttered upwards so that they met Yoongi’s across the table.
“Yeah, I am. You?”
“Of course. I’m excited to see his new place.”
“Did you get a gift yet?”
“No,” Yoongi groaned. “It’s in a week too, isn’t it? I don’t know what to get them. Feel like
Hyungsik has everything already.”
It seemed that as of late, Taehyung chose to break any and all news through the group chat and
exclusively that; no messages on the side, no one-on-one calls. Seokjin knew not to expect the
latter, yet still found himself waiting for it, foolishly so. “Just a little get-together for the gang!”
Taehyung had messaged the six of them sweetly, colorful emojis and all. “Significant others
welcome!” Namjoon would likely bring Daisy — an important milestone for the couple. And for a
moment Seokjin seriously considered whether or not to ask Jia to tag along, only to quickly realize
the utter pettiness behind his intent. Jia deserved better than that.
He’d go alone. He’d be fine.
“It’s so adult of them,” Yoongi continued. “Can’t see myself ever getting to that point.”
“Everyone goes at their own pace,” Seokjin refuted. “You’re doing fine.”
“Yeah. That’s what I keep telling myself too. But god, did you expect Tae of all people to be the
first of us to get married? I remember in high school, Jungkook and I used to talk about this all the
time. We’d always try and guess who’d get married first versus last. And we ALWAYS said that
Jimin would be first, and Tae and Joonie would be last. But look at how the tables have turned.”
He recalled the animated discussions they’d shared in their teenage years, how everyone seemed to
land on the same page every time; how Jimin was awfully smug about it, how Taehyung would
sulk and pout, how Namjoon didn’t seem to care, head in the clouds. And now Taehyung was the
first to get engaged, Namjoon perhaps not far behind him, Jimin a whole mystery in itself.
“So when are you gonna get married?” He piped up, catching Yoongi entirely off guard.
“Please.”
“I’m serious. We’ve never talked about this. I know Hobi goes out and hooks up with girls from
time to time-”
“He doesn’t do that anymore. He’s all about work now.”
“Oh wow. Okay. Good for him. But did…did you ever?”
Yoongi nibbled on his lip before admitting quietly,” Would you believe me if I said never?”
“Really?”
He watched as his now drunken friend fumbled clumsily with his empty shot glass, tips of his
fingers red from the cold. “Everyone around me has been in love at some point, or at least have
gone looking for it. Joon’s in it for the long run. Hobi’s in it one night at a time. Jimin and
Jungkook, I don’t know what their deal is.” A pause. “You. And Tae.”
Seokjin stared pointedly at the condensation on Yoongi’s glass, watched each little bead pool
together and trickle onto the table.
“But not once did I want it for me ,” Yoongi confessed. “Not once did I look at whatever you guys
had and envy it. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. I…I really like my own company.” He furrowed his
brow. “Is that wrong of me?
He smiled softly at Yoongi, small and shy yet always unapologetically himself, a certain warmth
spreading through his chest as he shook his head in response. “No. Nothing wrong at all.”
---
Jimin had asked if he wanted to go together, but Seokjin had politely declined. His apartment in
Konkuk was closer to Taehyung’s new unit in Cheongdam anyhow. Hopped on a train and in no
less than fifteen minutes he found himself standing before the front gates of the impressive
complex. It was a brand new set of condos; sleek, modern, undeniably expensive.
By pure coincidence he spotted a familiar group of three approaching from the distance, Seokjin
halting in his step as he waited for his friends to catch up; Namjoon’s tall frame hand in hand with
Daisy’s, Yoongi comfortably third-wheeling and keeping in stride.
“Kim Seokjin.”
“In the flesh,” Seokjin confirmed as he closed the gap between himself and Namjoon, giving his
old friend a long overdue hug.
“And you must be…” His eyes flitted to the girl next to Namjoon.
“I’m Daisy,” she introduced herself in accented Korean.
“It’s great to finally meet you. Heard a lot of things from this guy.”
“Good things, I hope?”
“Can’t get him to stop gushing if we tried,” Seokjin nodded in Namjoon’s direction, who merely
beamed in admission, lovesick.
Their shoes clacked in a messy chorus against the concrete as they walked towards the designated
building, harsh winds whipping at their skin. A warm gust of air greeted them as they stepped into
the main lobby, an elevator with marble paneling taking them up to the third floor.
He could feel his own heart kicking wildly against his rib cage as they approached the correct door
number, the chatter of his friends beside him fading to static, the lights of the hallway seemingly
dimming as Namjoon reached out a hand to press on the doorbell. Within seconds they could hear
a voice approaching, footsteps thumping until a fresh-faced Jungkook revealed himself at the
doorway, Hoseok’s head also poking out from behind him.
Upon his initial survey of the apartment he noted that the space was quite large for Seoul
standards; brand new, state of the art appliances, balcony with a decent view, tastefully selected
furniture and eclectic decor. During his second sweep he spotted Taehyung and Hyungsik huddled
together in the kitchen, matching aprons tied neatly around their waists, only their backs in view
from his limited vantage point.
It was Hyungsik who noticed him first, the boy swiveling away from the sink and locking eyes
with him across the length of the room. Taehyung’s gaze quickly followed suit, Seokjin unable to
maintain eye contact and looking away for dear life.
He turned his attention to the conversation in his vicinity, Jungkook and Hoseok hounding Daisy
with a barrage of questions, the girl appearing both amused and a bit overwhelmed. Yoongi
lingered quietly on the peripherals, listening in on the exchange and peppering in with mild
chuckles. In an attempt at meaningless small talk Seokjin leaned forward to mutter in Yoongi’s
ear, “I like the color scheme they’ve got going on.” To which Yoongi cast a glance at their
surroundings, offering a passive nod and a soft “Yeah.”
And then a warm voice sounded from behind him, Seokjin feeling as though his whole body would
collapse within itself.
“Seokjin-ssi.”
He’d never come this close to Hyungsik before, having only seen each other in brief passing. Now
that the two stood face to face, Seokjin realized that the older boy was quite a bit taller than him,
enough so that he had to crane his neck slightly upwards to meet his gaze. Great height for
Taehyung to rest his head on his shoulder, Seokjin thought to himself as the elder pulled him into
an affable one-armed hug. “Glad we get to finally meet,” he grinned, a charming dimple
materializing in his left cheek. “Like properly, I mean.”
“I know,” Seokjin replied, or something to that effect. Words tumbled out of his mouth on
autopilot.
“Better late than never,” Hyungsik patted Seokjin on the back. “You want anything to drink, by the
way? Water? Alcohol?” Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the latter.
“What beer do you have?”
“Let me check for ya. I’ll be right back.”
He could hear his own heartbeat pounding like a wardrum, adrenaline thrumming through his
veins as he awaited Hyungsik’s return, eyes frantically scouring the room in hopes of finding
something mundane to fixate upon. But now that he was looking again, he could somehow see
traces of Taehyung everywhere; in the mismatched cushions, the modern art strewn along the
walls, the vases of flowers adorned on every surface. All of it screamed Kim Taehyung loud and
clear, who at the very moment brought his hand to Seokjin’s upper arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Hey,” Seokjin breathed, trying his best to maintain his composure as he drank in the image of
him. Hair a soft, faded lavender, a navy blue silk shirt hanging prettily from his broad shoulders.
He pushed all such thoughts of he looks good to the back of his mind.
“How was it, coming over? No problems?”

“Took the train. Quick and easy. Typical drunk weekenders at most.”
“This early?” Taehyung laughed, glancing at his wristwatch. “People are wild.”
Seokjin hated small talk. This was small talk. Why were they doing this .
“Hope you don’t mind Cass,” Hyungsik cut in, handing over an icy cold can of it to Seokjin, who
gladly welcomed the interruption.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d attended a social gathering of this scale, the atmosphere
suddenly too suffocating, too loud, too much. It was only when Jimin burst through the entryway in
a huff, arms loaded heavy with bags of assorted alcohol, carrying the scent of cold air into the
room, that Seokjin released a sigh of relief. After dropping his bags off in the kitchen and making
his rounds to each of their friends, he promptly saddled up to Seokjin’s side, wrapping his arm
around the small of Seokjin’s back. “Hey you,” Jimin mumbled, giving Seokjin a playful pinch.
Their little party now enjoyed an endless supply of liquor thanks to Jimin’s generous contribution.
After devouring the food and clearing their plates they descended upon his impressive stash,
cracking open bottles of fruit flavored soju that tasted like juice, a recipe for disaster. They played
one too many drinking games under Hyungsik’s direction, the louder ones in the group growing
increasingly rowdier, at one point even knocking over a bottle so that its contents spilled all over
the hardwood floor.
“PARTY FOUL!” Jungkook cried, as Hoseok curled up into a ball of anguish.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” Hyungsik assured good-naturedly, scurrying away to grab a wad of paper
towels to clean up the mess.
But after they’d exhausted all of their energy, the chaos simmered down to something calmer, slow
and easy heart-to-hearts. Everyone would finally be based in Seoul for work — or at the very least,
in pursuit of it, save for Namjoon who ran on an American school schedule and still had one
semester of university left. “Will you be coming back to Korea after?” They’d all pressed him, to
which he shrugged with genuine uncertainty. “I’m thinking of applying to grad school. Just don’t
know where yet.”
“Please come back to Korea,” Jungkook pouted.
“Just for you,” Namjoon wrinkled his nose with fondness, an empty promise.
Taehyung was drinking. A glass of merlot, deep, dark, cherry red dangling between his long
fingers, cheeks flushed a delicate pink. This was likely his second glass, not that Seokjin was
counting. He watched as Taehyung swirled the liquid in languid circles, zoning out as he did so, as
others continued to chatter around him. The boy was seated diagonally from him on the far end of
the couch, nestled comfortably into Hyungsik’s chest. How warm, how nice.
What followed was a simple gesture, really; Hyungsik throwing an arm around Taehyung’s
shoulder and pulling him in closer, but the sight of it stirred within Seokjin a feeling he’d never felt
before. And he couldn’t decipher whether it was the liquor swirling in his own system or
something heavier, but whatever it was threatened to pull him under entirely, Seokjin dizzy with a
physical pain.
You’re being crazy. He took a steadying breath in, downing the last of his drink and setting his
empty cup down. Jimin, who’d been sitting on the ground beside him all the while, shifted in his
place so that he leaned against Seokjin’s side.
“Do you want to make the announcement now, honey?” Seokjin could hear Hyungsik whisper to
his fiance, who nodded with a knowing smile. Mere seconds later, Taehyung was leaning forward
in his seat and clearing his throat, the rest of the group falling to a silence and giving him their
undivided attention.
“So aside from getting all of you shit-faced, there’s another reason why we gathered you all here
today,” Taehyung began. “Weddings are a lot of work, and the one we have in mind is going to be
one hell of an event. With that being said...I was wondering if I could ask all of you for a little
favor.” He paused for dramatic effect, Jungkook tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“I was wondering…” Taehyung broke into a grin. “If you could all be my groomsmen.”
It was a blur, a maniacal blur. A lot of noise, as Hoseok rose from his seat to tackle Taehyung in an
embrace. Yoongi was cackling. Namjoon was clapping. Why was he clapping? Above the madness
Seokjin could hear a sharp ringing in his ears, the boy squeezing his eyes shut and lowering his
head down to his lap. Be happy, he willed himself. Be happy, be happy, be happy. He forced his
eyes open again to see Jimin crawling over to Taehyung on all fours, planting a sloppy kiss on the
side of his temple before shuffling back to Seokjin and placing a warm hand on his knee. He kept
his hand there for the rest of the night.
“Groomsmen, huh? That’s so American of you,” Namjoon laughed.
“Did you guys start planning the wedding yet?”
“We’re gonna look at venues in the spring.”
“What’re you guys thinking, big or small?”
“BIG wedding for sure,” Hyungsik chimed in.
“You sure you can handle all of us?” Yoongi teased with a smirk. “We’ll probably be adding
trouble for you guys, if anything.”
“I’ve been putting up with you guys for almost a decade. Think I can manage by now.”
He passed the remainder of their time together with a phony smile plastered to his face, the rest of
his body numb, buzzing. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the apartment. The air inside
was stuffy, hot, stifling. He wanted to climb a mountain. Breathe in cold, crisp air, take a long walk
in the nighttime, no destination. Wanted to hide, to be alone. But if he left early it would only make
things awkward, and he had no right in doing so, in ruining one more thing for Taehyung. So he
simply drank more, drank until his eyes glazed over, till he swayed on the spot, Taehyung and the
rest of his friends reduced to blurry outlines.
He felt sick. He wanted to disappear.
And then he felt a tender palm pressing into his, fingers slotting into his own, a gentle voice
beckoning him back to reality. “Baby,” Jimin whispered. “Jin. Let’s go home.”
It was nearly midnight when everyone drunkenly gathered their coats and shoes in the foyer,
readying themselves to head out the door. Seokjin steadied himself against a wall as he wedged his
feet into his sneakers, flinching when he felt a light touch to his shoulder. Taehyung, long lashes
and a constellation of moles. One more drink and Seokjin could’ve done something reckless.
Instead he peered at the boy through glassy eyes, seeing in his expression a flash of concern, only
to be quickly replaced by a cordial smile. “I’m glad you came,” Taehyung murmured, pulling
Seokjin in for a parting embrace. “Get home safe.”
The night air was cold, biting, just as Seokjin had wished it would be. Within minutes of exiting
the front gates Namjoon and Daisy managed to flag down a taxi, exchanging hurried goodbyes and
promises of another hang out before they’d head back to the states. Yoongi and Hoseok opted to
catch the last train, booking it for the nearest train station and leaving Seokjin with the Park-Jeon
household, of which Jungkook was busy scrolling through his phone, comparing the prices on
multiple ride-hailing apps.
“Wanna get a car or a cab?” Jungkook muttered absentmindedly to Jimin.
But Jimin was staring at a dangerously inebriated Seokjin, who at the moment had his neck craned
upwards towards the sky, lost in a daze, breath curling like dragon smoke. If Jimin knew anything
about Kim Seokjin it was that one, he was good at drinking and two, he was even better at hiding
his feelings. And yet he was presently failing miserably at both.
“You wanna come home with us?” He tugged on Seokjin’s sleeve. “Sleepover?”
“No.”
“Then are you going home?” He pressed determinedly. “Can I go with you?”
Seokjin’s next words slurred so terribly that they were nearly indecipherable. “I dun wanna
beinside. Dun wanna gohome.”
“Where do you wanna go?”
Seokjin blinked at the canopy of clouds, not a single star to be seen, not even a moon. “I don’t
know. I…I don’t know, I…” He put his head in his hands.
A somber pause, as Jimin and Jungkook exchanged silent looks. “I’ll go home first,” Jungkook
took the hint. “Call me if you need me, okay?” To which Jimin nodded.
He was holding his hand again, thumb running over the mountains and valleys of Seokjin’s
knuckles, chapped and cracked from the cold.
“Wherever you’re going…can I come with you?”
No response.
“Jin. Please, can I come with you?”
“Okay.”
Chapter End Notes
Well well well. Thoughts? :)
Jinmin is platonic. 1000%. I don’t want their affection for each other to be mistaken as
something more. Some of the most romantic gestures I’ve given/received in my life
were between me and my friends. This story aims to explore love in all its shapes and
forms. I admit I enjoy writing love between friends almost more than that of lovers.
I’ve created a playlist on Spotify for your listening enjoyment. Said playlist includes
all of the songs that are featured in specific scenes, as well as songs that inspired me in
my writing process. Hope you enjoy!
The next chapter, #49 will be the final chapter of Part 2 (college). Chapter 50 will kick
off Part 3 (adulthood), which is the part I’m most excited to share with you all.
Please do share your thoughts with me in the comments below! I strongly prefer
reading/answering feedback here on AO3 as opposed to Twitter. Don’t be a silent
reader, I don’t bite.
Thanks so much for your patience in between updates. I know that keeping up with a
WIP can be exhausting, and I truly appreciate your dedication to this fic + your kind
words/encouragement. <3
Chapter Notes
I recommend going back to the previous chapter and re-reading the last scene as a
refresher. (Jinmin leaving Taesik's party.)
Thanks so much for being patient with me. Enjoy. <3
“One more. Sorry.”
Another cup added to the pile, Hyungsik pausing from dish duty to wipe the sweat off his brow
with his forearm, a mess of soap suds dripping from his hands.
“Sheesh, we drank a lot,” he murmured, flipping the faucet back on and rinsing out the soiled
glass.
“Let me help, hyung.”
“No no, I got it. Go to bed first.”
“But-”
“I know you’ve got that whole skin care routine to tend to,” the elder teased. “I’ll probably be done
before you.”
A pause, as Taehyung mulled over Hyungsik’s statement, ultimately conceding and nodding in
defeat.
“True.”
“Get outta here,” Hyungsik patted him on the bum, Taehyung letting out a giggle before scurrying
out of the kitchen and towards their little bedroom.
He slipped into his usual nighttime getup, a pair of navy blue silk pajamas, half of a matching set
with Hyungsik. Padded over to the bathroom and pulled a terry headband over his head, pushing
the hair out of his eyes and revealing a handsome swatch of forehead. The space surrounding the
sink was small, but the two managed to organize it in a way that made sense; all of Taehyung’s
products crowded on the right, Hyungsik’s collection pushed towards the left. Between the pair
Taehyung boasted double the amount of Hyungsik.
A good fifteen minutes later and he could still hear a light tinkering from the kitchen. With his face
freshly cleansed and patted dry he shuffled back to their bedroom, snuggled under the covers and
slipped on his tortoise shell reading glasses. Namjoon swore by it, reading a book before bedtime.
Claimed that it helped to reduce stress by 68%, a promising statistic. He scooped up the self-help
book laying face down on his nightstand, picked up from where he left off. Unbearably boring, he
thought to himself as he struggled to finish even one page; but perhaps that was the whole point of
it all.
Gentle squeak of the door hinge as Hyungsik entered the room, flashing a sweet smile in
Taehyung’s direction before digging through their dresser for his share of pajamas.
“God, I thought I was an extrovert,” he laughed as he wiggled his way out of his sweater. “Why
am I so tired?”
“They were over for a while,” Taehyung concurred without looking up from his book.
“Was nice to finally meet Namjoon and Daisy though.” He was now fully dressed in his matching
silk ensemble, making his way towards the left side of their bed. “Got to practice my English on
him a little.”
“Oh yeah? How’d that go?”
“He said I was great, but I think he was being nice.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I caught Daisy snickering.”

“You’re better than me, at least.”
A small hum as Hyungsik leaned across the bed to plant a peck on Taehyung’s cheek, the boy
remaining glued to his book all the while, long lashes fluttering prettily behind his lenses.
“You okay, love?”
He finally peeled away from the page, glancing up to lock eyes with his fiance. “I’m fine,” he
chuckled. “Why?”
“Drank too much?”
Taehyung was fully sober now, eyes clear, flush gone. He smiled softly. “Yeah.”
“I’m so tired,” Hyungsik mumbled in between lazy kisses. “Gonna sleep first.”
“Sure thing.”
“You can leave the light on.”
It was always that quick, that easy. Within minutes of laying down soft snores sounded from
Hyungsik’s side of the bed, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The glow of
Taehyung’s lamp never seemed to faze him.
He stayed awake for another half hour until he found himself reading the same line over and over
again, Taehyung ultimately giving up and dog-earing the page for later. With a flick of the switch
the room descended into darkness, save for the moonlight spilling in through the balcony window.
Everyone who visited their apartment always had nice things to say about it. How luxurious of a
space it was for two recent college graduates. How tastefully decorated, how lovely that every
room has a balcony overlooking the courtyard.
Ghostly silver moonlight filtered through the leaves of their hanging plants, collecting in a little
pool on the hardwood floor. He closed his eyes and willed for sleep to overtake him, hoping for
moonlight to stay with him, only to be flooded with images of the party instead. Everyone,
everything was loud, too loud, except him. He was quiet, so quiet all evening. Even when
Taehyung wasn’t looking at him, in a strange way he still was. He was all Taehyung could see.
---
He wanted to go to the bar.
Jimin tried to talk him out of it. Tried to convince him to go on a cleansing walk instead, get some
fresh air, take some deep breaths. But if Seokjin was stubborn by default, he was even more
unyielding when drunk.
He scrolled through his phone in search of something within walking distance, the endeavor
proving to be a bit of a challenge, as their neighborhood was highly residential and most
surrounding businesses had already closed their doors for the night. After five minutes of
scrutinizing a meager list, Jimin finally zeroed in on a swanky sake bar, more dollar signs next to
the name than he would’ve liked, but no other real options to entertain.
“It’s a fifteen minute walk. You up for it?” He asked, Seokjin nodding sluggishly, eyes hooded and
bleary.
They trekked through below freezing temperatures to their destination, fifteen minutes stretching
into twenty as Seokjin dragged his heavy feet along the sidewalk, Jimin slowing his own pace to
match in stride.
The establishment was located on the fifth floor of a sleek high rise, the duo taking the elevator up
until it announced their arrival with a tiny “ding.” A sleepy looking hostess perked at the sound of
newcomers, offering the customary greeting and asking where they would like to be seated. Nearly
the entire space was empty, aside from a couple canoodling by the window and a group of older
gentlemen seated at a table. Seokjin steered the two of them determinedly towards the bar.
They settled into their seats at the very end of the bar, Jimin doing so rather gracefully and Seokjin
not so much, with a clunk and a groan. He could see the bartender eyeing Seokjin warily, picking
up on the pink spread across his cheeks, the telltale glaze over his eyes. “Two shotsss of vodka,
please,” he slurred before drooping his head dangerously close to the counter.
“Make it water,” Jimin mouthed silently. “Water with a splash of vodka.”
A slight hesitation from the bartender’s end.
“I’ll still pay you the same,” he followed with a hint of a smile, which seemed to do just the trick.
Jimin watched nervously as two glimmering shot glasses were pushed their way across the
mirrored surface, Seokjin not wasting any time and throwing back the “liquor” in haste. No further
comment nor reaction as Seokjin set the empty glass down with a clink, Jimin breathing a sigh of
relief and slinging back his portion too.
They’d been largely quiet during their journey over, Jimin focused on helping Seokjin keep his
balance, Seokjin offering nothing more than the occasional guttural grunt. Even as they sat in the
bar a heavy weight continued to hang over them, Seokjin tight-lipped and brooding, Jimin’s
stomach twisting into knots as he watched his friend drift away right before his eyes.
“Hi there,” he offered, gentle and barely audible over the background music, his hand finding
Seokjin’s knee under the counter and curling into the fabric of his jeans. “You still with me?”
Seokjin didn’t look at him, merely nodded.
“Good. Stay with me.”
Another bout of silence, and then Seokjin did something different; rested his elbows on the counter
and put his head in his hands. For a long while he stayed in said position, Jimin sitting nervously at
his side, waiting. And waiting. He could hear the sound of the hostess greeting someone new,
voice sickly sweet. The transition of an upbeat tune into a slower song. The clinking of glassware,
whirring of the ice machine. He waited for a sound to come from Seokjin, then immediately
regretted his wish as soon as the boy opened his mouth to speak.
“I can’t do this.”
“You don’t have to.”

He was running his hands up and down the length of his face now, skin underneath his palms
pulsing red. “Why did he ask me.”
“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”
He really didn’t know. Taehyung hadn’t given him so much as a warning: about the proposal, the
wedding party, none of it. Jimin wished he had. Wished he could get a glimpse into the inner
workings of Taehyung’s mind, a thing of mystery he was beginning to understand less and less.
“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” he spun out of thin air, hoping he sounded somewhat convincing.
“He’s killing me.”
With a sharp screech Jimin scooted his stool over so that he sat closer to Seokjin, fingers trailing to
the boy’s back and tracing up and down his spine, a steadying gesture. “You can say no,” he
muttered. “He’ll understand.”
“I can’t believe he…he askeddd me.”
“I don’t think he realized how this would affect you, Jin.”
“Duzzhe not realize that I loved him.”
Jimin furrowed his brow. “Loved?”
Silence.
“Love.”
Jimin wanted to cry.

“And I didn’t even fucking try.”
“You can’t,” Jimin shook his head fervently. “You cannot beat yourself up for that.”
Seokjin wanted to tell Jimin everything, fill in the gaps that he didn’t know. Tell him about Jia, the
kind of life that awaited him in the not so distant future. Show him how much of a coward he really
was, how he didn’t fight back, how he gave in so easily. But as Jimin’s hand snaked along his
shoulder and came to a rest on top of his own, he realized that Jimin was perhaps the only good
thing left in his life, and he couldn’t afford to lose him. So he stayed quiet and relished in the
warmth of Jimin’s palm against his instead.
“Can I confess something?” Jimin piped up suddenly, Seokjin peering at him through heavy lids
and nodding.
“I’m having a hard time too.”
Seokjin blinked back in surprise. “With what?”
“This…this whole…marriage thing,” the boy heaved a sigh, running a hand through his ragged
hair. “I don’t know how to explain it. Something in my gut. A gut feeling.” He was chewing on his
lip, the flesh of it cherry red. “But it’s not enough for me to speak up, is it? I don’t know. I’m
driving myself crazy. Maybe I’m overthinking.”
Seokjin didn’t know what to make of it, whether to feel comforted or distressed.
“He seemssso happy.”
“That’s the thing, Jin. I don’t know.”
To which Seokjin stared hard at the counter’s surface, jaw set, unmoving.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Doesn’t really help, does it?”
“No, yurrfine,” Seokjin mumbled before snapping his head up and waving down the bartender.
“Can we have one more round?” He gestured at their empty shot glasses. “Not watered down this
time?”
The bartender exchanged a look with Jimin, who merely shrugged and nodded in agreement. One
more drink couldn’t hurt.
“Coming right up.”
“Sso cheap uf ‘em,” Seokjin tutted once the bartender was out of ear-shot.
Another set of glasses were pushed towards the pair, Seokjin’s serving already halfway down his
throat before Jimin could even lift a finger.
“Can we get waters too?” He could hear Jimin ask. Seokjin cut him off.
“Issokay. Lessgo home. Issgetting late.”
He practically carried him out of the bar, Seokjin’s larger frame a deadweight upon the poor boy’s
smaller shoulders. They teetered onto the curb until the sober one of the two managed to flag down
an empty cab, fumbling with the door until he finally popped it open and maneuvered Seokjin into
the backseat.
“You don’t feel like throwing up, right?”
Seokjin shook his head wordlessly.
It was nearly two in the morning. On a normal basis he’d still be abounding in energy, but
something about that evening left him inexplicably drained, wanting nothing more than to hurry
back to Hongdae, hop in the shower, and crawl into bed with Jungkook. But with the state that
Seokjin was currently in, eyes drooping shut and limbs limp, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep
until he saw his friend safely home.
“What’re you doin?” Seokjin drawled as Jimin crouched down to climb into the car.
“I’m coming home with you.”
“NO,” he protested forcefully. “I’m FINE.”
“You’re not, Jin. You’re a fucking mess. Just let me drop you off and I’ll leave. I’ll take the same
car-”
They went back and forth on the matter, voices raised, the drunken boy resorting to wild kicking,
earning a yelp from Jimin in the process. After a minute or so of scuffling the cab driver swiveled
around in his seat with an air of annoyance. “You coming or not, kid?” He snapped at Jimin.
“He’s NOT.”
He loved Seokjin dearly, but my God, was he a stubborn ass.
“I guess not,” Jimin sighed in surrender, leaning in through the front window to provide Seokjin’s
apartment address. “Ahjussi, please get him home safe, okay? Jin, text me when you get home,
alright?”
To which both of them grunted a “yes” in response.
The moment the vehicle started moving he rolled his neck onto the headrest and drifted into deep
slumber, the world around him sucked into a vacuum, his eyes sealed shut, mouth slightly ajar. It
was about halfway through the car ride that he jolted awake, frantically attempting to gather his
bearings. He fixed his eyes upon the passing scenery outside; bare branches, cold buildings, lonely
street lamps. And as every bump and ditch in the road jostled the boy like waves in an angry sea, as
he traversed through a seemingly endless winter landscape, he realized that never before had he
been this drunk, this heartbroken. On most days he felt as if he were swimming in sadness. Now he
was being swallowed whole.
“Ahjussi,” he leaned forward so that he hovered between the front seats. “Can we go to a different
place instead?”
“Kid, I’m supposed to get you home-”

“He gave you the wrong address.”
A lie, albeit a good one.
In a jagged movement the driver twisted his steering wheel, merging into the right-most lane to
take the next exit off the freeway.
“This is an entirely different neighborhood,” the driver called over his shoulder. “We’re going back
to where we came from. You sure this is right?”
“I’m sure.”
After some time — Seokjin lost track of how long — the cab slowed to a stop in front of an
apartment complex, shiny and new yet hauntingly familiar. Digging into his wallet he handed the
driver a wad of cash far exceeding the actual fare, then burst out of the vehicle before the man
could give him his change.
He was running, cold January air filling his lungs.
“KIM TAEHYUNG!”
He skidded to a sloppy halt at the bottom of the building, nearly all of its windows darkened, most
of the blinds drawn for the night. But it didn’t stop him from screaming into the void, voice
echoing off of the concrete, hollow and lonely.
“KIM TAEHYUNG, WHERE ARE YOU?”
Not a single light flickered on, the air around him absolutely church-like, still.
“WHERE ARE YOU.”

His breath hitched in his throat as a balcony door on the third floor slid open, a lone figure
tentatively emerging from the shadows, arms clutched tightly around his narrow silhouette.
“Jin?” The voice called in disbelief. “Jin, what are you doing-”
“TAEHYU-”
But before he could finish his sentence the boy turned on his heel and ducked back inside, balcony
door clicking to a close behind him, Seokjin letting out a huff in frustration.
The moments following were spent in hushed waiting, Seokjin’s chest rising and falling rapidly in
anticipation, the outlines of the building blurring, dizzying. He closed his eyes in an attempt to
steady himself, yet still felt as if he were drowning, body and mind sinking underwater. When he
opened his eyes again he could see Taehyung’s frame pushing through the glass doors of the front
entrance, a thick coat tossed haphazardly over navy blue silk pajamas, a pair of house slippers
slapping the heels of his feet.
“Tae-”
“What are you doing here,” he hissed, coming to an abrupt stop several feet away from him.
“I-”
“And don’t yell. Please don’t yell. Speak calmly. What is going on.”
“I wanna talktoyou,” Seokjin drawled, his entire being reeking of alcohol, Taehyung scrunching
his nose at the stench.
“Okay, we can talk,” Taehyung replied evenly. “Let’s talk. What do you want to talk about.”
“Why ‘dyou ask me.”
“Ask you what.”

“You knowwwhat.” Seokjin muttered, pointing a finger at Taehyung and swaying on the spot.
“Howcouldyou do this to me.”
“I feel like you’re angry with me,” Taehyung shot back, emotion rising in his voice. He’d awoken
from his sleep so suddenly that it felt as if he were still in a dream, their present reality surreal, a
figment of his imagination. “Why are you angry with me?”
“Whydyouask me to be your groomsman.”
His jaw went slack but no words came out, Taehyung standing in place, frozen in shock. Seokjin
stared back, lips pursed, fists clenched. At most he’d thought the invitation would be awkward;
never had he expected a reaction such as this.
“Y-You’re upset that I asked you?”
Seokjin didn’t answer, simply held his gaze unwaveringly, embroiled in anger. They’d gotten into
plenty of petty arguments before, butted heads over minor disagreements. This was a whole new
side of Seokjin. It was debilitating.
“I didn’t…I didn’t think you’d get this upset...”
“H-couldyou not know.”
“I thought we were good.”
Seokjin shook his head wordlessly.
“W-We’re not good?” Taehyung stammered, shivers shooting up his spine. “Then what are we?”
No answer. Taehyung pressed on. “I thought we were past that.”
“I’m not.”
It was Taehyung’s turn to fall silent.
And then Seokjin started again. “How couldyou do this t’me.”
“I don’t…” He tried to hide the panic mounting, tried his best to stuff it down. “I don’t understand
what you’re trying to say.”
“You’re killing me, Taehyung.”
And then he crumpled to the ground, body hitting cold pavement.
Taehyung resisted the urge to move forward, his entire body now trembling violently, nothing to
do with the cold. He could hear a ringing in his ears, saw tiny stars in his vision. Everything was
spinning. He could rightly pass out. Seokjin sat with his elbows propped upon his knees, head
buried in his hands, breathing jagged and unsteady.
“Stand up,” Taehyung demanded. “Stand up, Jin.”
But it was as if his words were falling on deaf ears, Seokjin already descending into his own
madness.
“Stand up,” he spoke louder. “You’re…you’re gonna catch a cold.”
There were soft noises coming from the boy on the ground now, small whimpers like that of a
wounded animal. He wanted to remain at a safe distance but found himself caving, Taehyung
taking one, two, three steps forward, eventually closing the gap between the two as he crouched
down so that he and Seokjin were eye level. A gentle touch to Seokjin’s shoulder, a tentative
squeeze. “Yah. What’s gotten into you?” Taehyung gave him a slight shake. “Jin, you’re drunk.
You’re so drunk,” he whispered, trying to convince himself that’s all it was; just the alcohol. “Let’s
get you home, okay?” Taehyung smelled like toothpaste and face lotion.
“I dunwanna go home.”
“I’ll call you a car.”

“Please donmake me go.”
“You’re gonna get sick at this rate-”
“Let me stay with you,” Seokjin begged, looking up from his hands, face washed in red, eyes
bloodshot. “Jus let me stay withyou.”
Taehyung chewed on his lip. “I...I guess…y-you could crash on our couch, if you need-”
“Thas not what I meant. You know thasnot what I meant.”
“Jin.”
From a distance Taehyung hadn’t been able to see it, but now that they were face to face it was
undeniably there, a spark of something in Seokjin’s eyes that Taehyung recognized, something he
hadn’t seen in a long time: yearning.
“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
“Jin.”
“I’m tired. I’mssso tired.” It sounded like he was pleading. Taehyung was powerless.
“You’ve done well,” he managed.
“I don’t wanna be good anymore.” Large tears were pooling and threatening to spill over. “I-I don’t
wanna try anymore. I’m so tired everyday. I’m done, I swear m’done.”
Taehyung didn’t have to ask him to elaborate further. He already understood.

“No,” he shook his head vehemently. “No, no no no. You can’t.”
“I’m done with it all. I dun wantit anymore. My family, the company. I’ll leave-”
“You’re drunk,” Taehyung countered with a strange urgency. “You’re really gone. Fuck, you drank
so much. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I’ll leave ‘em. I’ll do it.”
“You won’t. You can’t. They’re your family. You love them. You don’t mean that. Jin, you don’t
mean that-”
“I do.”
For the first time, Taehyung believed that he meant it. And it terrified him.
“You’re gonna wake up tomorrow and…and forget you said any of this,” Taehyung whispered,
frantic. “And I’m going to be the one that has to remember.”
“How could I forget if I live with it everyday.”
This was wrong. This was terribly wrong, in every shape and form. Taehyung was getting lost
again; he always did when it came to him. The moment Seokjin would show up he’d lose sight of
everything else. It was a dangerous gamble, inviting him to the party, extending the offer for the
groomsmen line-up. Seokjin was right; how could he have done this? He should’ve known better.
With renewed determination he quickly rose onto his feet, Seokjin’s gaze following him as
Taehyung now loomed over his hunched form.
“Let’s get you home.”
“Please.”
“I know you’re upset and I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t think you’d react this way and I don’t
expect anything from you so if you want to say no you can, okay?” He willed his voice not to
break. “So if that’s what you came here for, I hear you, I hear you loud and clear, I get it now. I’m
sorry, Jin. I’m sorry.”
Once again Seokjin said nothing in response, only scooted closer until his cheek rested against
Taehyung’s knee.
“It’s..it’s late,” Taehyung continued to babble. “I have to…I have to go. I have…” His eyes
scanned the empty courtyard, like a kid lost in a parking lot. “I have to go back to him.”
“Why?” Barely audible.
“Because. Because, I made, I made…” Taehyung was heaving. “I made a promise. A commitment.
I’ve built a whole life with him, fuck.” He ran a frazzled hand through his faded locks. “I love him.
I love him, I love him, I love him,” he repeated like a mantra, the ring on his finger flashing under
the lamplight.
His voice was still small when he asked: “D’you love me?”
Taehyung’s answer was immediate. “Of course. Of course I do. I love you so much, you know
that.”
“Not like that,” Seokjin murmured against his thigh. “Like the same way I love you. Do you love
me.”
The world came to a standstill. Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, everything devolving to black,
static.
“THIS ISN’T FAIR,” Taehyung cried, a sudden fury overtaking him. “Y-You don’t mean that. Do
you? Do you mean that? You don’t get to come all the way here and s-say that to me-”
“You’re not saying no.”
“How can I say no to YOU?” Taehyung gestured towards him in despair. “Don’t look at me like
that, Jin.” He was unraveling; he’d come undone. “Please don’t look at me like that, I’m begging
you.”
If it was any other day, Seokjin would’ve listened. But he wasn’t in his right mind, so he wrapped
his arms around Taehyung’s legs instead, burying his face into the silk, the warmth. Felt the
tremors of Taehyung’s body against his own.
“Please tell me this isn’t real,” Taehyung was gasping for air. “Tell me this is just a dream, a bad
dream.”
He could feel Seokjin’s hot tears soaking through the fabric of his pants, his heart twisting
painfully at the sensation, Taehyung releasing an anguished cry into the night, primal and with
complete disregard for the hour. He reached his hands up to his face in an attempt to hide his
sorrow, fresh tears escaping between his fingers nevertheless and dripping to the ground like rain.
It was grounding, in a way, when Seokjin realized that Taehyung was crying too. Maybe this was a
dream, like Taehyung had said. A horrible nightmare he’d eventually wake up from. But if it was
in fact reality — which he suspected it was — the weight of what he’d done slowly began to sink
in.
“M’sorry,” Seokjin sputtered, still drunk but trying. “I’m sorry. Sorry,” he said over and over again
like a broken record, sanity creeping in and gripping him full force. He shouldn’t have come here.
Why was he here. Why was he seated on the cold hard ground, arms wrapped around a man who
should be wrapped up in the arms of another?
“I wish I never met you,” Taehyung interrupted his thoughts, his words cutting to Seokjin’s core
but unabashedly earnest. “I wish you’d just...just stayed on the other side of the classroom, far
away from me. I wish I never chased you. Wish I never fell for you.” He was wiping his tears with
the back of his sleeve. “I wish I…I wish I didn’t know what it was like to be with you. I want to
fucking f-forget. Everyday I wish I could forget what it feels like to hold you, to kiss you.” He was
openly sobbing now. “But you’re there, you’re always there. A-And now you’re here.”
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin lowered himself so that his forehead pressed against Taehyung’s calf. “I’ll
leave, I’ll leave. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I always looked like a fool, waiting for you,” Taehyung wept, a blubbering mess. “For once in my
life I didn’t want to look like that anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“But here we are,” Taehyung let out a laugh as cold as winter, under a sky with no stars. “Look at
us now.”
---
[ ♪ Already Gone - Sleeping At Last ]
And I want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better
But I want you to move on
So I'm already gone
Chapter End Notes
My lovely mutual Tiff created art for this chapter, check it out here.
This marks the end of Part 2, university. Next chapter will be the beginning of Part 3,
adulthood.
I wanted to thank everyone for your kind words/encouragement with every update.
This might sound dumb because I know it's just an AO3 fanfic, but this is one of the
only things in my life right now that gives me a sense of purpose. Everything else feels
like a mess. So as difficult as it is to write at times, just know that it brings me great
joy to share this story with you all.
And yes, it's still a definitive happy ending, Taejin end game. Don't lose hope and trust
in the process.
As always, please leave your thoughts in the comment section below, don't be shy! I
read through everything and always reply. <3
Part 3 | Like morning glory when fading
Chapter Notes
I am so sorry for the delay in updating. D: I know my usual schedule is biweekly and
I’ll still try my best to stick to that moving forward. (No guarantees!) Things happened
in my personal life this month so I had to tend to that first.
This chapter includes something called a “doljanchi.” Basically a traditional Korean

celebration for a baby’s 1st birthday. It’s a pretty significant event and there’s a
ceremony that’s the highlight of it called “doljabi.” Doljabi ceremony = when a child
is placed in front of various objects that represent their future, i.e. money (wealth),
pencil (scholar), etc. Whatever the child chooses is essentially their destiny.
January
He rubbed his eyes open to blinding white light, sun pouring in through his window and pooling
onto his sheets. Hot. Everything was too hot.
With clumsy movements he pried the sheets off of his body, heat giving way to a welcomed draft,
Seokjin sitting in a daze as he tried his best to recall exactly how he got here. Back in his room,
safe and sound in one piece, albeit head pounding and threatening to split in half.
For a moment he listened to the sound of his own breathing, heavy and labored. Somewhere in the
background, faint ticking of the alarm clock. Bleary-eyed he turned to the sound, letting out an
audible gasp upon realizing the time: already half past noon.
It was as he fell back onto his mattress that a small groan sounded from his side, Seokjin letting out
a scream as he spotted a tuft of fluffy, jet black hair poking out from underneath the duvet. He
peeled back the covers to reveal a bewildered Jeon Jungkook staring right at him.
“J-Jungkook?”
“Hey,” his friend croaked in response.

He was shirtless, nothing but a pair of boxers sitting at his hips, yet somehow still glistening with a
thin sheen of sweat. Jungkook ran hot, especially in his sleep.
“How...how did you get here?”
“Are you feeling better?” Jungkook asked instead, running a hand through his messy locks.
As if on cue a wave of nausea overtook him, violent and unyielding.
“Give me a sec.”
He barely made it to the toilet bowl before everything was coming up, bitter and vile, Seokjin
despising himself as he hunched over the porcelain, heaving until he rid himself of all the gunk.
With a sigh of exhaustion he flushed it all down, rising shakily to his feet and staring at his
reflection in the mirror. To sum it up in one word, disappointment. Hair in disarray, deep dark bags
under his eyes, lips chapped. Flipping on the faucet he relished in the coolness of the water, rinsing
out his mouth and splashing it onto his skin.
Wake up, wake up.
Jungkook was already camped out in the kitchen by the time Seokjin emerged from the bathroom,
the boy now fully clothed in a pair of grey sweats and an oversized white tee, hems frayed and
worn down. He was digging through the fridge as if he owned it, retrieving from within a half-
drunken bottle of Sprite and a jug of water. Rummaged through the cabinets till he found a suitable
glass, pouring water into it and pushing it across the counter towards Seokjin.
“Here.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin mumbled sheepishly, taking a sip as Jungkook uncapped his Sprite and chugged
generously. He had a strange habit of craving sweets first thing in the morning. Seokjin could
never quite get used to it.
“But seriously,” he began again, setting down his empty glass with a clang. “Why…or how did
you get here?”
Jungkook twisted the cap back onto the bottle, wearing a smirk of amusement as he sized up
Seokjin’s disheveled form. “Do you really not remember anything?”
A brief pause. “I know I drank a lot.”
“A lot?” Jungkook laughed. “Jin, I’ve drank ‘ a lot’ with you before. Last night was something
else.”
He felt an instant wave of dread. “Fuck. Why d’you say that?”
“Really? Not a single detail? Not even how you got back home?”
Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut, willing for any semblance of memory to return, receiving nothing
but searing pain. Shapes and colors in patches and blurs at best.
“Can you just tell me?”
“Sure,” Jungkook nodded calmly, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “It was…
hmm. Ass o’clock. Three or four in the morning? Can’t remember. Jimin and I had just gone to bed
and then Jimin’s phone starts ringing. It’s Tae. Weird, cuz he doesn’t really call anymore. Turns
out you got lost last night after leaving the bar and ended up at Tae’s place.” He chuckled
awkwardly. “Anyway. Jimin was freaking out, like really worried. We took a cab over and picked
you up. You could barely stand, Jin.”
The images were flooding back.
“And you were out cold during the car ride,” Jungkook barreled on. “As soon you hit the seat you
were gone. Once we got back here we tried waking you up but I swear for a second I thought you’d
passed away or something. Literally had to slap you. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
“We get you in the elevator, up to your floor and everything, but you get to the door and can’t
remember the passcode. I think you literally tried like ten different combos? Jimin was losing his
MIND but I thought it was kinda funny. At this point I don’t think I could ever forget your
passcode ever again. FINALLY get inside and you collapse on the ground, just face flat onto the
floor. REFUSED to go to your room. We dragged you down the hall and threw you into bed and
the whole time you’re kicking, flailing, a real bitch. Jimin was so tired he had to take a break, so I
was the one who got you changed out of your dirty clothes and into your PJ’s.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. So basically a wrestling match. I won, as usual,” Jungkook grinned, corners of his eyes
crinkling. “You’re a real piece of work when you’re drunk, you know that?”
“I’m sorry. Fuck.”
“All good,” Jungkook brushed it off coolly. “Your bed is exquisite. Jimin and I slept well.”
But it wasn’t all good. Seokjin was spiraling. Images were coming together to form a cohesive
picture, and Seokjin was finally seeing it, like an audience watching a horror flick for the first time.
Everything was moving backwards, like a reel being rewound. Tears, so many tears. Hot tears in
the cold. Crying, Taehyung was crying. Holding him, yet sobbing like a child.
Taehyung standing several feet away, fists clenched, jaw tight.
Taehyung peering out of the balcony door, Seokjin’s own voice hoarse from screaming his name.
He did that. It wasn’t a nightmare. He really did that.
“Where’s Jimin?” Seokjin finally managed, swallowing thickly.
“I don’t know. I think he left early this morning. Said he was meeting up with someone.”
“I see.”
For a moment the room simmered down to quiet, nothing but the hum of the fridge to fill the void.
He wished he could find levity in the situation the same way Jungkook did. Wished he could crack
a joke and a smile, shoot himself in the foot. But the weight on his conscience was growing, and he
feared it would crush him altogether.
“You don’t have to stay,” he cleared his throat. “If you have things to do you can go. I’ll be fine.”
“Why, do you wanna be alone?” Jungkook raised a brow. “I can totally leave.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I…” He released a small sigh before locking in a gaze with his
friend. “Are you hungry?”
To which Jungkook’s eyes lit up, a resounding yes.
They scampered off to a haejangguk restaurant within walking distance from Seokjin’s apartment,
the two bursting through the entrance and greeted promptly by a gust of warm air and the friendly
ahjumma at the counter. “Two?” She asked. Jungkook nodded eagerly, he and Seokjin toeing off
their shoes and slipping them into the bamboo cubbies.
She seated them in the corner surrounded by warm walls, each boy settling cross-legged on the
heated floor, on either side of the wooden table. They sifted through their laminated menus with
haste, flagging down a waiter mere seconds later. A gamjatang for Jungkook and a much needed
haejangguk for Seokjin.
The side dishes arrived within minutes, Jungkook hurriedly grabbing a chili pepper for himself and
dunking it into the hot pepper paste. Whenever Jungkook and Seokjin ate together, especially in
the absence of Jimin’s company, the conversation was always minimal. Seokjin not having much
to say and Jungkook too busy stuffing his mouth to bother.
With every slurp of hot soup he could feel the throbbing in his temples dissipate, Seokjin relaxing
his posture and allowing himself to enjoy the moment. It was pleasant, easy. The usual weekend
crowds milling about beyond the windows, a cluster of ahjussis joking boisterously on the other
side of the room. The clinking of glassware, the light laughter of a mother and her child. And then
there was Jungkook; Seokjin had barely worked through a quarter of his portion and Jungkook was
already down to his last spoonful, still clearly ravenous and yearning for more.
“Order more,” Seokjin nodded towards him. “I got you. On me.”

To which Jungkook didn’t protest, raising his hand and asking for a serving of deungppyeo jjim
instead.
They sat and drank tea for a little while after they’d finished their meal, filling their bellies until
rendered nearly immobile. Wiggling their padded coats back on, they rang up their bill at the
counter, then picked out their shoes from the packed shelf. “That hit the spot,” Jungkook
murmured as they stepped out of the door with a light ding of the bell.
Seoul was stark cold, dead of January. The two loitered on the curb outside of the establishment,
wind whipping at their ears. He was already dreading the walk back to his apartment, but he
figured it wouldn’t be so bad if Jungkook was beside him. Time would pass by quickly. All the
heaviness would feel lighter. But would Jungkook feel the same, or would it weigh more as a
burden? He chewed on his lip, considering this as he watched the boy’s tresses flutter against his
forehead, a sweet dimpled smile spreading across his lips.
No. Jungkook deserved better. It made sense, to let him go.
“I’ll be fine,” Seokjin assured him. “Go home and rest. Sorry again.”
“Oh,” Jungkook scrunched his nose, a bit perplexed, doe-eyed. Hesitated before he murmured in
relent, “Okay.”
---
For a moment he wondered if he could blink his eyes open at all, being as swollen as they were.
And when he did, he noticed that the space in the bed beside him was empty. The room absolutely
still, Taehyung all alone.
He eased himself into sitting position and stewed in the silence, vision adjusting to the daylight
flooding the airy room. Navy curtains. Yellow flowers. Silver lamp. Silk pajamas. He tried to
ground his mind on simple, tangible things, his fingers curling into the warm bed sheets, glass of
water from the night before glistening in the sun.
The night before.

He tried to make peace with the quiet, but the longer he remained on his lonesome the more the
panic gripped him. With a jerking motion he tore himself out of the bed, padding out of their room
and heading straight for the common areas. Savory scents of breakfast wafted throughout the
kitchen, Hyungsik moving about in the center of it, Taehyung breathing a sigh of relief at the sight
of him. A set of side dishes was already set up on their dining room table, Taehyung taking careful
steps closer, then coming to an abrupt halt when Hyungsik noticed his presence.
“Oh good. Was just about to wake you.”
A slight jump, a hitch in his breath. Hyungsik chuckled. “Sorry, did I scare you?”
He hovered awkwardly over the table as if it wasn’t his own, fingers fumbling with the sleeves of
his pajamas. Hyungsik was already fully dressed in fitted jeans and an expensive sweater, busy
loading another pancake on top of a growing pile. On any other morning Taehyung would’ve
hurried to Hyungsik’s side, offering a helping hand with a hefty dose of aegyo. But this wasn’t any
other morning, and he found himself frozen in his place instead, Hyungsik eventually looking up
from the stove and casting a questioning glance at his fiance.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Well sit down then,” Hyungsik urged gently. “I’ll bring everything over.”
Minutes later a fresh stack of pancakes was added to the table, followed by a cup of coffee for
Hyungsik and some matcha tea for Taehyung. Without much fanfare the two began digging into
the food, both very aware that they were operating on a time constraint; within an hour or so they
were to hop in the car and drive to the city’s outskirts for Hyungsik’s niece’s *doljanchi.
It’d been several months since they’d last visited Hyungsik’s cousin and cousin-in-law in Yongin,
and now their baby boy was already celebrating his very first birthday. Taehyung still remembered
the day sweet Jihoon was born; three weeks premature, a tiny, frail, bird-like thing. A week spent
in NICU, which meant a week of pure agony for his poor parents.
Taehyung adored Hyungsik’s cousin Hyungjin, his kind wife Eunjung, but more than anything
their spoiled chubby angel, who in their most recent social media posts boasted actual rolls. His
heart did a jig at the prospect of holding Jihoon in his arms again.
But the atmosphere at the present moment felt rushed, Hyungsik shoveling food into his mouth like
a machine, albeit careful to not get any crumbs on his designer pullover. Taehyung merely poked at
his share with his chopsticks instead, eyes trained warily on Hyungsik’s every move.
“Not hungry?” Hyungsik asked without looking up from his plate.
“Yeah. Guess I just woke up, no appetite.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to eat. There’ll be food at the party too.”
He placed the chopsticks down on his plate with a clink, more guilt flooding over him at the sight
of unfinished food. Hyungsik was chugging his coffee now, brows knitted together over the rim of
his mug.
“You sure you’re good, hon?”
“Can we turn on the TV?” He dodged the question.
“Well yeah, go for it. But we gotta head out soon.”
The remote was wedged in between the couch cushions, Taehyung fishing it out and switching on
the television, flipping through the channels until he landed on the morning news. The anchorman
behind the desk was rattling off about the political riots the previous evening in Gwanghwamun
Square, Taehyung zeroing in with feigned interest, taking a calming sip of his tea and relishing in
the distraction. The newscaster then handed it off to the weatherman, who jovially ran through the
various cities and their respective temperatures.
“—And in Seoul tonight, light flurries—”
He turned to Hyungsik without warning: “You didn’t kiss me.”

The elder was finishing the last of his breakfast and dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin,
eyes widening upon being caught off guard.
“Huh?”
“Just now, when you sat down. You didn’t kiss me.”
To which Hyungsik let out a hearty laugh. “I didn’t even notice, I’m sorry.”
Taehyung was sulking.
“Look, I’m just trying to get us out of here on time!” He protested with a huff. “Why, you want one
now?” Eyebrows raised, sly smirk on his lips.
“Forget it.”
“Pabo.”
---
Hyungsik’s family was big, even bigger than Taehyung’s. The apartment was packed to the brim
with aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins. So many cousins. Kids of all ages squealing and
screaming, volume turning up a notch as they noticed Taehyung’s arrival and flocked to him like
chickens.
“UNCLE UNCLE UNCLE!” They cried, arms outstretched, Taehyung squatting down and
greeting all of them with generous hugs and kisses.
“Hello?” Hyungsik waved incredulously from the side. “I’m here too?”
They beelined for Hyungsik’s parents and greeted them with light hearted banter, then maneuvered
through the crowded room to drop their money envelope off with Hyungjin and Eunjung. Took the
opportunity to fawn over baby Jihoon, dressed to the nines in a brightly patterned hanbok, a look of
confusion etched across his face, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Oh, sweet baby,” Taehyung cooed, dripping with affection. “Can I hold him?”
But being the man of the hour, Jihoon had to make the rounds to the rest of the partygoers, within
minutes being whisked away to say hello to the next person in line.
“He’s so heavy now,” Taehyung chuckled, the weight of the child gone, arms empty.
They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with various characters in attendance, Taehyung
momentarily forgetting his troubles and genuinely enjoying his company. He loitered in the corner
of the kitchen with another one of Hyungsik’s cousins, Taehyung’s personal favorite of the bunch;
Hyungmin and his wife Aera, the rich and hip hyung/noona couple who’d sworn off of children
and were avid cat parents instead. The three of them bullshitted liberally over bottles of beer,
Hyungsik floating around somewhere else in the room, the social butterfly that he was.
“So when’s it gonna be your turn?” Hyungmin asked, nodding in Taehyung’s direction.
“Hmm?”
“You guys thinking of kids soon?”
“Oh.” The boy blushed a pretty pink, eyes happening to land on Hyungsik leaning against the far
wall, two year old Donghyun cackling maniacally and thrashing about in his arms, Hyungsik
remaining stoic and in deep conversation with Donghyun’s father. He could feel his own heart
twisting painfully, a pang of want and guilt melded into one. He should want it. He’s always
wanted it.
Why didn’t he want it anymore?
“Yeah,” he went along with Hyungmin instead. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”
“We love you,” Aera began. “But count us out for babysitting.”
Taehyung laughed. “I know, I know.”
Towards the end of the festivities was the long awaited doljabi ceremony, the young parents
bringing Jihoon to a blanket laid out on the ground, a variety of items laid out neatly before him. A
pencil, money, thread, a computer mouse, a microphone, amongst many more. The room fell to a
hush in anticipation, attendees whipping out their phones to record the moment. A lengthy pause, as
Jihoon scanned the random objects in front of him with curiosity. He’s probably gonna go for
whatever’s shiniest, Taehyung thought to himself, his suspicions quickly confirmed when the baby
reached for the microphone on the far right.
Everyone was laughing, celebrating. Loud, overwhelmingly loud. Hyungjin and Eunjung were over
the moon, planting fond kisses to Jihoon’s forehead, who had already let go of the microphone and
was now fixated on one of his father’s shirt buttons instead.
“You’ve got a little popstar on your hands!” Someone in the room congratulated them.
“Clearly he doesn’t take after us!” Hyungjin retorted without missing a beat. More laughter.
He knew it wasn’t that deep. He knew he shouldn’t be spiraling over a ceremony, a meaningless
formality. Yet the bad feelings came like a riptide, pulling him under, paralyzing him. Taehyung
squeezed his eyes shut, focused on his own breathing, only snapping out of it when he felt a warm
hand trailing up and down his back.
“Tired?”
A couple more gentle rubs. Taehyung exhaled shakily. “Yeah. Just a long night last night.”
“Yeah, me too. We’ll get going.”
They fetched a couple of rice cakes as party favors and made another sweep around the room, this
time one of goodbyes and false promises of let’s-get-dinner-sometime-soon. “Why are you leaving
so early?” Hyungjin protested as Hyungsik and Taehyung pulled on their thick coats.
“We’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” Hyungsik lied. The kids were already crying upon
realizing Uncle TaeTae was about to leave.
“Come out and see us more often, okay?” Eunjung prompted. “We’ll cook for you guys.”
“We’ll cook together,” Hyungsik agreed cheerfully.
Yet the moment the door closed behind him and the chaos died down to silence, Hyungsik
breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Can’t wait to go home,” he sang as he pressed the downwards elevator button. Taehyung’s coat
was zipped all the way up, lower half of his face hidden from view.
The elevator arrived at their floor with a gentle ding, the two stepping onto the empty vessel, their
reflections on the mirrored door staring placidly back at them. They looked good together. People
always made sure to remind them. Hyungsik was the perfect height for Taehyung, so that
Taehyung could rest his head comfortably on his shoulder.
“Hey,” Hyungsik piped up, interrupting Taehyung’s train of thought. Taehyung peered at him from
underneath his hood. “You wanna get popsicles?”
Taehyung considered the proposition for a moment. It was below freezing outside, but the prospect
of going home was presently too daunting, so popsicles sounded like a much better idea. With
Taehyung’s blessing, Hyungsik quickly pressed the “L” button for the lobby instead.
They wandered out of the building and onto the main street below, looking left and right at the
surrounding storefronts, most of them empty or already sealed up for the evening. A lonely 7-11
sat at the end of the block, the duo traversing towards it in wordless agreement.
Once inside they headed straight towards the back of the store, locating the ice cream freezer and
picking through their options until they settled on a couple of melon bars. Rang up their items with
the bored clerk and exited just as briskly as they’d entered.
There was a small metal bench placed against the window, Hyungsik lowering himself into it and
Taehyung following suit. The counter space inside the store was packed with hungry middle
schoolers scarfing down buckets of ramen. The metal was cold against his bum, but within minutes
he became numb to the sensation, peeling back the plastic on his popsicle and taking a tentative
lick.
Winter after the holidays was always dismal. Nothing to hope for, nothing to look forward to. The
light drained out of the sky early, in such a hurry. By 5:00PM the world was already pitch dark.
Hyungsik chomped down on his melon bar rather voraciously, half of it gone while Taehyung had
barely made a dent in his. Not a word had been exchanged since they sat down; not that it was
unusual for the two of them. They’d been together for so long that comfortable silences were
commonplace. But this was a different kind of silence, one that begged to be broken. There came
the sound of crumpling plastic in Hyungsik’s hand, and then he was speaking.
“Sorry to do this, but I’m gonna ask you one more time. Are you actually okay?”
Taehyung chuckled nervously. “Why do you keep asking me, hyung?”
“I don’t know. You keep saying you’re fine but I feel like…like you’re not.”
“You know I get tired sometimes.”
“Yeah but today it feels...like more than that. You’re so out of it—”
“It’s back to back parties, yesterday and today. Guess I’m getting old, I can’t keep up anymore.”
“First of all, don’t talk about ‘old’ in front of me,” Hyungsik teased, a dimple forming in his cheek.
“But seriously…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on the meager traffic passing them by. Yongin was
much quieter than Seoul. Hyungsik had mentioned it’d be nice to move out here to start a family.
Taehyung always felt that Yongin was sort of depressing.
“Tae. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
They exchanged a long look without breaking, a million and one thoughts racing through
Taehyung’s mind. Hyungsik’s gaze was impossible to decipher; was it curiosity or concern?
Apprehension or accusation? Did he perhaps… Taehyung internally struck down the thought.
There was no way he’d overheard. By the time Taehyung crawled back into bed Hyungsik had
been snoring soundly.
He had a bad habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve. Hyungsik was just seeing through him.
So Taehyung responded with resolve. “I know.”
There was something lovely about sitting on that bench with Hyungsik by his side. Hyungsik who
wasn’t wearing gloves, who insisted he didn’t need them, yet whose fingertips burned red from the
cold. There was something about him that felt safe, certain.
“You know what?” Taehyung cleared his throat, voice gaining color. “You still owe me a kiss
from this morning. I think that’s what’s been bothering me all day.”
Hyungsik was chewing on his lip. “Really?” He smiled weakly. “It’s like that?”
“It’s like that.”
“All right,” the elder conceded, leaning in and pressing a light peck to Taehyung’s lips. He tasted
just like their first kiss; sweet, sticky sweet like ice cream.
---
The haejangguk made him sleepy. As soon as he returned to his apartment he passed out on the
couch. When he awoke from his nap, night had already descended upon the city, the world reduced
to black. He rose to his feet to power on the Christmas tree in the corner, then poked around in the
kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. The fridge remained empty, save for Jungkook’s Sprite
from earlier, two bottles of beer and a packet of kimchi, probably expired.
He debated whether to text Jungkook about the Sprite. Haha, you forgot this. [picture attached]
Gonna come back for it? But realized how desperate he sounded and decided against it. Stared at
the phone in his hand, notifications he didn’t care for rolling in one after another.
Dust off those running shoes and get back on track!
Jung Hoseok liked a message you sent.

Seoulmates
Jungkook: Oh shit. Did you wanna go next week?
Jimin: Doesn’t matter. Jin when’re you free?
You averaged 8 hours, 2 minutes of screen time per day last week.
Mom: Seokjin-ah, you missed my call again. When are you coming home?
WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY is in effect until 12PM noon, for Seoul and surrounding areas.
Noise, all of it.
Waiting for the message made him anxious. Entertaining the thought of sending it himself made
him feel even worse. Beer sounded more like poison rather than pleasure after last night’s fiasco.
Last night.
Trapped in his own skin, he turned on the television and laid back down on the sectional, switching
through the channels until he happened upon a mindless true crime show. The narrator’s voice was
monotone, Seokjin drifting in and out of focus until he slipped into another restless slumber.
Nightmares came and went, stalking shadows, vague terrors. By the time he blinked his eyes open
again it was midnight.
Not longer after, he got a text.
He’d been antsy all day, nerves racing, waiting for this. Knew that sleeping was a way of coping,
of helping to bide time. But now that he was staring at his phone screen, reading the very message
he’d been hoping to receive; how silly of him, to think this would make him feel better. If
anything, he felt sick all over again.
A sharp intake of breath as he skimmed over the words once more, then typed out a response with
damning finality.
“Okay,” he replied, before throwing his phone onto the floor with a thump.
He could hear more messages coming in, his device vibrating noisily against the carpet, screen
lighting up and beckoning for his attention. Turning onto his side to face the back of the couch, he
waited until the vibrating came to a stop. Clutched a cushion to his chest and felt it; full weight
crashing down.
---
The balcony was a nice place to sit. Other than air-drying their laundry from the overhead racks,
the cramped space also hosted two chairs, pliant and perfect for curling up in with a hot cup of tea.
When Hyungsik and Taehyung would lounge in said chairs during late evenings, they’d never turn
on the fluorescent lights above. Allowed the moonlight to pour in, pearly white bathing the tile;
ethereal, like a dream.
All of it felt like a dream.
Hyungsik was in the living room, muffled buzzing of the television drifting in through the
balcony’s open door. Taehyung sat motionless in one of the chairs, legs tucked underneath him,
throw blanket draped over him. Within his slender fingers he fumbled about with his phone,
turning it this way and that, home screen resolutely blank. He’d been chewing on his lip in the
waiting and only stopped when he realized he’d drawn blood.
Seokjin hadn’t texted him all day.
It’d been nearly twenty four hours of radio silence, and Taehyung was bursting at the seams,
worried sick from waiting. Were they really going to pretend that the events from the night before
hadn’t transpired? Or did he actually, truly forget that any of it happened at all?
Meanwhile the scenes replayed in Taehyung’s mind without mercy; like getting pummeled by
waves, one after another. From the second he’d blinked his eyes open to this very moment he’d
warred against these very thoughts, exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, Taehyung lolling his
head onto the edge of the chair in defeat. Perhaps it was due time to simply let himself float, to let
the thoughts of Seokjin immerse him completely. He closed his eyes, slowed down his breathing,
silver waning to black.
Yet instead of flashbacks of the most recent events, he found his mind drifting back to the very
beginning, when everything was gold, honey gold. Seokjin walking through the crowded halls of
their school, bowing courteously to a group of upperclassmen council members passing by. Seokjin
turning around and spotting Taehyung approaching, breaking into a smile, a mischievous twinkle
in his eye. Seokjin grabbing a hold of Taehyung’s backpack strap without warning, yanking him
closer and causing him to stumble over his feet. “Shit, sorry,” he’d apologized hurriedly, steadying
Taehyung, bodies flush against one another. Not everyone got to see the real Seokjin. Taehyung
got to see it everyday, and still he wanted more.
Later Taehyung would find out that Seokjin sleep-talked. Not in a loud or dramatic fashion, but
enough to wake Taehyung up from his slumber. It was the night after their first time together, after
the long bath that had left them pruny and tender. Outside it was freezing winter, but under the
covers it was toasty warm, skin on skin. They’d fallen asleep with Seokjin’s arm secured tightly
around Taehyung’s waist, chest pressed firmly against his back, but things had shifted throughout
the night and Taehyung found himself looking Seokjin square in the face instead. His mouth was
moving, brows pinched together in a rather serious expression, Taehyung giggling at the sight and
leaning in closer to listen. Nothing decipherable, a rambling string of mumbo-jumbo. Being the
demon that he was he grabbed a hold of Seokjin’s lips, squeezing them together until the boy
sputtered awake, blinking his weary eyes open. Taehyung couldn’t help but break into giggles.
Placed a gentle hand to Seokjin’s cheek, pressed their foreheads together and murmured against
Seokjin’s lips. “I’m sorry baby.” Seokjin didn’t say a word, merely let out a tiny grunt and wrapped
his arms around Taehyung once more, pulling him close to his chest and holding him there. He
knew it was pathetic of him to admit it, but he felt as if he were made to love Seokjin.
Stay here. Stay in this memory. Stay.
But that was the thing about memories. They always faded away in the end.
And then all Taehyung could see was Seokjin crying on the cold ground. Blue, everything
drowning in icy blue.
He resurfaced to consciousness, breath hitching in his throat before digging out his phone and
pulling up his speed dial page. He’d never bothered to revise it, only added to it throughout the
years as needed.
Eomma
Appa
Demon 1
Demon 2
Seokjin
Jimin
Hyungsik
He could hear Hyungsik’s laughter in the next room.
“ You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
Except he couldn’t.
He wanted quite desperately to call Jimin, his thumb hovering over his alleged soulmate’s name,
trembling. Taehyung from two years ago wouldn’t have hesitated to press the call button and break
down into a weeping mess. To do such a thing now seemed almost laughable. Jimin would think
him mad.
A large tear landed onto his phone screen with a splat, Taehyung hastily wiping it off, finger
smearing over Seokjin’s name. He hadn’t realized he was crying, but the mere prospect of hearing
Seokjin’s voice again prompted him to break into sobs. He couldn’t do it. It would rightly kill him.
There were too many questions he wanted to ask, with all of Seokjin’s drunken confessions still
fresh on his mind. He wanted to hear Seokjin affirm it for a second time, sober.
What would it look like, us actually being together?
Did you mean it, when you said you love me?
Would you really give up everything?
Should you give up everything?
We’re doomed, aren’t we?
Should we just give up?
“Babe!” Hyungsik’s voice from the next room cut through his train of thought. “You’re not gonna
believe this.” He was laughing. “Haru made her appa FaceTime us because she wants to see Uncle
TaeTae.”
Taehyung hurriedly gathered his composure, trying his best not to choke on his words. “Ah really?
Tell her I’ll be right there!”
He burrowed his face into the fabric of his sleeve, picking up the shrill squeals of Haru through the
speaker, Hyungsik’s silly attempts at keeping her entertained while they waited for Taehyung’s
appearance. Haru had been at the party earlier that day, but Taehyung hadn’t gotten a chance to say
a proper goodbye. The little girl was understandably miffed.
It was all it took for Taehyung to realize this: that Seokjin made him crazy, and that he couldn’t
afford to live that way any longer. Emotion simmered down to logic and reason; just a fact of life, a
part of growing up. Rip off the bandaid, he convinced himself, clicking on Seokjin’s name to draft
out a text. Except this didn’t feel anything like a bandaid, more like ripping himself in half.
Taehyung: Hi. I’m not sure if you remember what happened last night.
He considered ending the message there, but giving Seokjin a chance to answer that question
proved to be far too terrifying. So he continued typing.
Taehyung: Hi. I’m not sure if you remember what happened last night. Some things were said that
shouldn’t have been said. I’ve really thought about it, and I think it’s best we go our separate ways
from now on. No more contact. I think it’s for the better.
He didn’t have to wait long after pressing “send.” Seokjin’s answer came within seconds.
Seokjin: Okay.
Taehyung faltered, waiting for something more, for the three little dots to appear but to no avail.
That’s all he has to say?
The rest of the words spilled forth as if he were on automatic pilot.
Taehyung: I want to make it clear that I’m not mad at you
Taehyung: I don’t resent you
Taehyung: I also don’t know if I believe you.
Taehyung: But believe me. I said what I said before, and I still mean it
Taehyung: I’ll always…yeah. Always.
Taehyung: But this is what’s best for the both of us
Taehyung: So we can both move on. Really, really move on.
Taehyung: I just want you to be happy.
He waited until the adrenaline rush abated, let a couple of minutes pass before realizing Seokjin
would probably never respond. Made a mental note to block him on social media, erase his phone
number, tie up all the loose ends. But he couldn’t seem to do it on the spot; he already felt as if
he’d collapse within himself, and there were people waiting for him in the next room. He practiced
a couple of smiles as he pat his face dry, eventually taking a deep breath and walking back into the
light.
---
He pressed the phone to his ear with a shaky hand, waiting. After the fifth dial tone and on the
verge of giving up, the other line finally crackled to life.
“Hey you.”
“Sorry Jimin. Did I wake you?”
“No, just finished showering. You okay?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Want me to come?”
“Yeah. Please.”
With a shallow exhale he tossed his device to the side once more, not wanting to look at it ever
again. Wished it would die, disintegrate, turn into dust. He rose from his place on the couch and
trudged through the dark towards his bed. Climbed underneath the sheets, cool to the touch. Sank
into the mattress and relished in the way it molded to his body.
Jungkook was right. His bed was pretty nice.
Outside it was beginning to snow, soft flurries dancing in the wind beyond the glass. Was it the
first snow? Terrible timing.
The world fell to a hush. Seokjin closed his eyes and somehow managed to drift back to sleep,
dreaming of nothing. Sometime later, he wasn’t sure exactly how long, he heard the faint beeping
of the keypad at the entryway, then the soft thumps of the door opening and closing. Tentative
footsteps, and then the shifting of his bed, of blankets being adjusted. He blinked his eyes open to
Jimin’s face so close to his own, felt a cold hand cupping his cheek, the smell of winter. But when
Jimin scooted closer and leaned forward, his lips were warm and wet against his forehead, puffs of
air on his skin as he moved down, pressing another kiss to his cheek. He found himself closing his
eyes again, fists scrunched up against his own chest, heart hammering loudly against it. It’d been a
long time since he’d been kissed. The last person was Taehyung. Seokjin forgot what it felt like, to
be desired. He could feel Jimin nuzzling into his neck like a cat leaving a mark, loving him. Took a
shuddering breath in, then following the exhale, promptly broke apart. The tears came and they
wouldn’t stop.
Chapter End Notes

I have a lot to say about this chapter, don’t mind me rambling for a bit.
Around this time last year I was getting ready for my trip to Korea. Was dreading it at
first, then it turned out to be the best trip of my life. I moved to a new city this year
where seasons don’t really exist…it’s warm all the time. I miss the cold terribly.
Hence why I wrote extensively about it haha.
I know I’ve said time and time again that Jinmin = platonic. And they are, and their
relationship won’t ever progress past that. With that being said, that doesn’t mean they
haven’t thought about it.
Example: my old roommate in New York used to kiss me on the forehead every time
he greeted me. We lived in an apartment with a couple other friends for approx 2
years. At the end of the 2 years we all decided to go our separate ways. I was the first
to move out, into a tiny matchbox apartment in the middle of Manhattan. This
roommate of mine, let’s call him L, was the last to leave our old place.
My first night in Manhattan I was a MESS. I didn’t know my new roommates at all
and I was overcome with a sudden feeling of loneliness/anxiety. Left my new place
and somehow ended up on the steps of the Natural History Museum, sat there for an
hour or so and sobbed on the phone with L. He was in the middle of packing his room
and still had quite a bit left to go.
Nevertheless he asked to meet me in the city, downtown. We met at a diner near West
4th. He ordered actual food, a whole meal while I sat across from him and wept like a
little bitch over some decaf coffee haha. The entire time he didn’t say a word to me,
just let me cry and kept me company.
In wordless agreement he and I went home that night to our old apartment across the
river. Felt so cathartic and safe to be in a familiar neighborhood, to visit the drugstore
on the corner and pick up snacks. Spent the rest of that night sitting in his room
watching TV while he packed up the rest of his things. Slept in his bed in his clothes.
He camped out on his futon instead.
When I woke up the next morning he was getting ready for work, putting on his suit
and tie and checking himself out in the mirror. I remember him looking over at me and
smiling, telling me that I can stay as long as I wanted to. I distinctly recall thinking,
man. I could see myself falling in love with him…even though at that point we’d been
friends for 6, going on 7 years.
Nothing ever happened between us, nor did he and I want it to. He’s married now with
the most beautiful wife and I couldn’t be happier for him. But my god, he’s done some
things in this lifetime to make my heart flutter.
Long story short, I think it’s very easy to have romantic inclinations towards your
friends, no matter how prolonged or how fleeting these feelings last. You’re friends
with them for a reason; you find something about them that's inherently attractive. In
regards to AOML Jinmin, this is pretty much the case. There’ve been a number of
moments where Jimin has felt that butterfly feeling towards Seokjin and vice versa.
Jimin usually feels this way during their happy moments together, i.e. when they’re
slow dancing during Christmas, or when they exchanged polaroids of each other by
the lake. Seokjin feels this way during moments of physical proximity, like this last
scene. But no, it’s not gonna go anywhere HAHA. They value their friendship farrrrrrr
more than anything else.
I know the outcome of this chapter is a bit depressing, but I hope you can understand
two things:
1) Jin is actually making significant progress in the last scene. Like a big step for him.
2) Taehyung is in an extremely difficult position. But in a way he is also making

progress.
Last but not least: if you’re sitting there reading this and wishing you had someone to
hold you, love on you…if you feel lonely, just know you’re not alone because SAME.
I used to have people like this in my life but not anymore. Nowadays it’s more difficult
than ever to form meaningful human connection, so if you’re struggling in that aspect
just know I’m right there with ya. Same boat. You’re not alone in your loneliness.
As always, please don't be a silent reader and let me know your thoughts. Even if it's
just one sentence I'll be encouraged. <3 Take care until next time.
Part 3
Chapter Notes
Super super sorry about the long wait. Thanks for being patient with me.
Couple things:
1. Trigger warning for this chapter: homophobia. Please proceed with caution.
2. Since it’s been a while, I recommend skimming through the end of the previous
chapter to get a sense of where we left off.
3. This chapter is heavily Seokjin-centric.
He could feel a hand trailing up and down his back, careful and steady, warm and kind. It reminded
him of his mother, of how she used to hold him when he was little, how the world would whittle
down to just the two of them. Simple, safe. With slight delirium he blinked open his heavy eyes,
Jimin’s outline slowly coming into view, the boy kneeling at his bedside, an oversized hoodie
swallowing his tiny body.
“You awake?” He could hear Jimin say.
The room was dim, waning light seeping in through the dusty windows. Was it the same night?
Early morning? Different day? He couldn’t tell.
“Mm,” he grumbled. “What time is it?”
“Three in the afternoon. You cried all night and slept all day,” he replied, teasing yet gentle. “How
do you feel?”
He felt heavy. As if every bone weighed like a brick. He wanted to stay in bed forever, drown in
the sheets and dissolve into nothing. But the more that Jimin touched him, the more he found
himself being pulled upwards, breaking the surface, tears pooling over like water bubbling from a
well. With a deep breath in then out he squeezed his eyes shut once more, little rivers sliding over
his nose bridge, Jimin wiping it away with the hem of his sleeve.
“What do you want to do?” His friend persisted. “Are you hungry? Wanna eat something?”
“Have you eaten?” Seokjin turned the question on him.
“I ate a lot,” Jimin beamed, crescent moons forming. “Went home for a bit to pick up my laptop
and some ramen. Want me to cook for you?”
“Not hungry?”
Seokjin nodded.
A hum, as Jimin contemplated other possibilities for the two of them, hand straying from Seokjin’s
back to wrap around his arm. “You’ve been sleeping all day yesterday and today.”
“Yeah.”
“Too much of that isn’t good for you.”
“I know.”
“Would you like to go and see the snow with me? It’s really beautiful outside.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go.”
At first glance it was blinding. The forecast had predicted flurries at best but the snow had
accumulated to something formidable, past the ankles and nearly up to the calf. The snowfall had
come to a definitive stop, the wind dying down to an occasional flutter, the sky above them muggy
and grey.
They trudged to the bus station and waited within the warmth of the shelter, standing side by side
in comfortable silence. The bus arrived within a brisk three minutes, the boys boarding onto it and
finding a set of seats by the back door. Jimin settled in next to the window, Seokjin sliding into the
space beside him.
For the entirety of the bus ride Jimin kept his gaze fixed beyond the dirty glass, watching the
cityscape pass them by. The streets were less crowded than usual thanks to the bitter cold, the few
pedestrians that were out and about struggling as they trudged through the thickly blanketed
sidewalks. Everything on the road had turned to slush, grey and blue.
Seokjin hadn’t stopped crying since they’d left the apartment. He lowered his head to try to hide it,
tears dripping off of his chin and into his lap. Jimin pretended not to notice.
With a squeak of the wheels the bus pulled to a halt at their stop, the two of them disembarking and
heading west towards the river. The closer they got to the water the quieter the city became, a
sacred hush falling over them as they trekked past sleepy residential complexes and an abandoned
middle school soccer field. Far off in the distance they could hear the high-pitched laughter of
friends before the wind carried the sound away in one moving sweep.
After ten minutes of walking they caught a glimpse of the Han in the distance. Barely visible
amongst all the snow, hard to tell where the sky met the water. Jimin led the way with
characteristic confidence, the field leading to the river largely untouched, their footsteps fresh in
the powder.
Even as they neared the river’s banks they could scarcely hear the water, half of it frozen over and
stark still. Jimin scanned the slew of empty benches before picking one just shy of a cluster of oak
trees. With a swiping motion of his sleeve he cleared the snow off of the bench, motioning for
Seokjin to sit down next to him.
For a long while they sat on the bench without saying a word, both fixed on the wintry landscape
sprawled out before them. From time to time the wind would rustle through the trees, branches
trembling, snow dusting down. Otherwise the world around them remained unmoving, like a
painting.
Every breath escaping from Jimin’s lips left a trail of smoke. He watched through blurred vision as
Jimin released a lengthy sigh, then shifted closer to lean his head on his shoulder. All the while
steady streams trickled down Seokjin’s cheeks, unrelenting.
“Can’t really see anything, can you?” Jimin murmured close to his ear. He was right; a heavy haze
hung over the water, buildings on the other side shrouded from view. “Kinda nice though. Doesn’t
feel like you’re in the city anymore.”
Seokjin wanted to reply but no words came. Merely nodded in agreement as Jimin looped his arm
with his own.
“Fucking freezing though,” he giggled. “You’re so warm, Jin.”
He mustered a smile, tears sliding into the corners of his mouth. Jimin swiveled around so that he
peered directly into Seokjin’s face.
“Aigoo. You’re crying so much you’re making my heart hurt.”
“Sorry,” Seokjin managed, breath catching in his throat.
“Don’t apologize. You’ve held it in all this time. I was getting worried.” Jimin studied him. “And
you still look handsome when you cry. God, I wish I could look like that.”
Fresh tears came. Jimin wiped them away.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He continued, nodding towards the river in the snow. Then, with a rather
mischievous giggle, Jimin slipped into a baby voice. “Who’s prettier, Seokjinnie or the scenery?”
He paused from his crying, giving his lips a nervous nibble before speaking softly, “I don’t know.”
“Seokjinnie,” his friend answered on his behalf, tucking a strand of hair behind the shell of his ear.
“Seokjinnie’s the prettiest.”
His first instinct was to deny it. His second, to believe it was true.
“Thank you for coming with me today.” Jimin mumbled, nuzzling his face into the crook of
Seokjin’s shoulder.
“What are you saying.”
“I said thank you, dummy. For keeping me company.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” Seokjin laughed sadly, then paused as the realization
hit him. “Aren’t I always the one thanking you?”
Jimin furrowed his brow, perplexed. “Not sure what you mean.”
“I need you more than you need me.”
Somewhere behind the clouds the sun was starting to set. Beyond the greys, burning golds and
reds; they just couldn’t see it. All afternoon Jimin had carried himself with a lightness, but as he
allowed Seokjin’s words to sink in his face took on a different color, expression darkening much
like the gloomy sky above. Seokjin kept his gaze upon the riverscape, all the while sensing Jimin’s
eyes boring through his head. Sure enough as he turned to glance at his side, Jimin was still staring
at him with an incredulous look.
“I’m not sure what kind of person you think I am,” Jimin began. “But I’m not that selfless, Jin.”
The lamppost beside them blinked awake in the dusk.
“You hear me?” Jimin pressed, Seokjin swallowing thickly upon picking up the distress in his
friend’s voice. “I need you too, Jin. I’m sorry to break it to you but I’m selfish. I need you here.”
He opened his mouth to speak but Jimin barreled past him.
“I need you, okay?” He repeated louder, composure breaking. “Don’t you understand? I love you
so much.” He was shaking. “I wish you’d believe me.”
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin murmured, pulling Jimin close and rubbing up and down his arm. “I’m sorry
for saying that. I believe you, I do.”
For the first time, he did.
---
“Jimin-ah. What do I do.”
By the time they boarded the return bus to Kondae night had fallen completely over the city,
skyline glittering demurely in the dark. This time Seokjin sat by the window, headphones wedged
in his ears as Jimin slipped in and out of sleep upon his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open at the
sound of Seokjin’s voice, the boy wincing as he adjusted to the garish fluorescent lighting.
“Mm?”
“He won’t even talk to me anymore. What do I do.”
The bus rolled to a stop at a red light, Seokjin watching as a slew of pedestrians hobbled along the
crosswalk. A couple bundled up in matching down coats, hands clasped together, shopping bags on
their arms. A lone businessman not far behind them, tails of his duster coat flapping in the wind.
For a moment he nearly slipped on the icy ground, the man scrambling for balance before carrying
on as if nothing happened.
“I hope you know that this does not define you.”
A brief pause as the vehicle gave a sharp lurch, Jimin momentarily thrust forward in his seat,
Seokjin extending an arm to steady him.
“Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how you see yourself. Because as your friend…dare I say best
friend? For the last…what’s it been, seven years? I sort of see the same cycle over and over again.
A good thing comes along but you think it can’t possibly be for you. Then a bad thing happens and
you think good, this is what I deserve. You keep punishing yourself, at least that’s what it looks
like from the outside looking in. Jin — do you think you’re a bad person?”
Yes. “I’m not sure.”
“Because the way you treat yourself, it’s like you’re your own worst enemy.”
Oh.
“But you’re not, right? At least you shouldn’t be. You’re on the same team. When your teammate
falls down what do you do? Do you spit on them, kick them? No, right? You pick them back up.”
“Right.”
“So you’re asking me what to do, in this situation.” Jimin mulled over the question once more,
nose scrunching in concentration. “When it comes to Taehyung, there’s not much you can do. He’s
made up his mind and he swears it’s for the best. I think more than ever you’ve gotta be there for
yourself, Jin. You know I’m always here. You know that. I will run to you in the middle of the
night, no questions asked, and I’ll do it again and again if you need me. But the reality is I can’t be
with you all the time. So for all the moments that I’m not there, what happens? In the same way I
pick you up, I hope you’ll do that for yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“And if it gets too much on your own, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you, Jimin.”
“Of course. Mi casa es su casa.”
“What is that.”
“It’s Spanish.”
“What does it mean?”
“My house is your house.”
“Where’d you learn something like that?”
“Namjoon taught me.”
Seokjin scoffed. “He knows too much useless information.”
To which Jimin leaned into Seokjin and laughed.
---
Practice makes perfect. Seokjin figured he’d have to start somewhere.
He found it embarrassing, quite frankly, to initiate. Within their “Seoulmates” group chat it was
always either Jimin or Jungkook suggesting places to eat, activities to partake in. Seokjin’s role was
purely reactionary. But seeing as it was his last Friday night before real life on Monday, his anxiety
was getting the best of him and he figured he’d need the company.
Seokjin: What’re you guys up to
No immediate response, so Seokjin hopped in the shower to kill time. Just as he began rinsing the
shampoo out of his hair, a succession of notifications sounded from his phone. Seokjin poked his
head out of the shower to peer at his screen.
Jungkook: Not doing anything

Jungkook: Just chillin at home
Jungkook: Hbu?
He rushed through the rest of his shower routine, drying himself off in record speed to type out a
response.
Seokjin: Me neither
Seokjin: Can I come over
Jungkook’s reply came just as enthusiastically.
Jungkook: Hell yeah come
Jungkook: Was actually gonna text you haha
Jungkook: I’ll cook for us
Jimin: I’m going out in a bit but I’ll wait for you to say hi :)
Jungkook: Door’s gonna be unlocked. Just come in
To no one’s surprise the Park-Jeon household’s Christmas decorations were still up, the tree and its
surrounding garlands blinking merrily and beckoning Seokjin inside. Jungkook lay sprawled out on
the living room couch, leg dangling lazily over the back of it. Jimin was nowhere to be seen.
“Seokjinnie’s here?” Jungkook announced loudly upon hearing the opening and closing of the
entryway.
“Seokjinnie’s here,” Seokjin confirmed in matching pitch. Moments later, a gentle rustling from
the bedroom and then Jimin was emerging from it, decked out in all black ensemble, simple tee
french-tucked into skin tight jeans, neckline a bit lower than Seokjin was used to.
“And where are you headed?” He apprehended Jimin, who shot him a grin and a wink in return.
Hints of smoky shadow framed his eyes, cat-like.
“Out,” he answered coyly, retrieving a leather jacket from the arm of the couch and slipping it onto
his slender frame. “Are you sleeping over?”
“Probably.”
“Is that all you’re wearing?” Jungkook interjected, easing into a sitting position on the cushions.
“Yeah. Why?”
“It’s freezing out.”
“Yeah well, it gets hot in the club.”
“But on the way it’s gonna be cold. Why don’t you wear your puffy jacket?”
“It doesn’t go with this outfit,” Jimin pouted, doing a little twirl to show himself off. “Right, Jin?”
“Sure.”
It was difficult to change Jimin’s mind once he’d made it up, the two watching in defeat as he
slinked out of the apartment with a final wave and a sing-song goodbye. The moment the door
closed with a heavy thud Seokjin turned back to Jungkook, gawking.
“Who’s he going with?”
“Some of our classmates from Hongik.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t want to go,” Jungkook clarified, crossing his arms against his chest. “Not really into the
clubbing scene anymore.”
“I thought you were kind of getting into it.”
“I’m an old man now. A working man.”
“Shut up. You haven’t even started.”
“Well soon,” Jungkook mumbled quietly, stretching his legs to press the bottoms of his feet against
his arm, Seokjin hissing at the cold. “You hungry?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
They stumbled their way into the kitchen, Seokjin bidding Baptong his customary hello with a
finger pressed against his tank.
“Baptongie got chunky,” Seokjin smirked, the little fish staring him down through the murky
glass.
“That’s ‘cause his parents have poor communication and accidentally feed him double.”
With a proud flourish Jungkook pulled out an array of ingredients from the fridge, green onion and
tofu, enoki mushrooms and sliced spam. “Budae jjigae,” Jungkook explained proudly, laying
everything out on the counter and rolling up his sleeves. “Should be real easy. No way we can fuck
this up.”
They worked up a storm over the stovetop, splatters of broth landing on Seokjin’s shirt. Per
Jungkook’s insistence he borrowed one of Jungkook’s many black shirts, tossing his soiled one
into the wash. The boy had a habit of buying two sizes too big. Seokjin was drowning in the fabric.
The budae jjigae, much to their delight, turned out better than expected. The two scarfed it down
with a couple bottles of Kloud and chit-chatted about their imminent future; Konkuk graduation
ceremony over the weekend, then Seokjin officially starting work at his father’s company on
Monday and Jungkook the week following, at a budding startup as a software developer.
“I’m lucky,” Jungkook admitted. “I may be the youngest person on the team but the whole team’s
pretty young. My boss is only in his thirties. Company culture is lax too so I’ll have a decent work
life balance.”
“Don’t you get to work from home too?”
“Half the week. Two days remote.”
“Lucky indeed.”
Jimin unluckily was still in the thick of interviews, although he had a couple of hopeful prospects
in the mix. Seokjin wondered what it would feel like, to put himself out there like the rest of them.
Terrifying. But liberating.
“Do you think everything’s gonna change when we all start working?” Seokjin threw back the last
of his beer.
“Well for me, not so much,” Jungkook shrugged. “Feel like my life will be kinda chill. You and
Jimin though. I don’t know.”
“I’m gonna be traveling a lot for work.”
“Yeah. And Jimin…” The boy trailed off. “I think that’s why he wants to go out so badly these
days. To work off that steam.”
The footage of Jimin partying quickly poured in through social media, videos of the boy smiling in
front of a backdrop of strobe lights, sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. A blurry cluster of
friends surrounded him, all moving chaotically to the pounding bass of the club. For a brief
moment he flirted with the camera, pushing a swatch of hair back from his forehead, and then a girl
was colliding into his side, arms wrapping around his torso and nearly knocking him off balance,
Jimin laughing until the clip cut to a stop.
“Who’s that,” Seokjin mumbled.

Jungkook peered at the video in question. “Friend,” he answered definitively. “Just a friend.”
They spent the rest of their evening gaming in front of the television, hours passing like minutes
until Seokjin looked at the clock and realized it was half past one. “Sleeping over?” Jungkook
asked with a yawn, to which Seokjin nodded. “You wanna sleep in the bed?” Seokjin declined.
“That’s fine,” Jungkook conceded. “We found out recently that this is actually a pull-out couch.”
“You guys just found out?”
“Yeap,” he chuckled sheepishly. “Here, let me show you.”
“How’d you guys just find out?”
“It’s uh…” Jungkook cocked his head, at a loss for words. “Help me lift these cushions, will you?”
The pull-out bed took a mere minute or so to set up, the two standing back to proudly observe their
work.
“You gonna be good with this blanket?”
“Yeah, it’s plenty.”
“If you get chilly just come to my bed and grab a spare. Or you could just come to my bed.”
“Pass.”
“‘Kay.”
If Seokjin had to be brutally honest, he preferred the actual sofa over the pull-out bed, the springs
of said bed groaning with every movement. But Jungkook had been so excited to show him, so he
shifted about until he found a tolerable position. He laid flat on his back, eyes glued to the familiar
wall across from him, its dusty windows overlooking the distant buildings of Hongdae. Strange,
how he felt much more at home here instead of his own apartment.
Barely half an hour passed before the door of Jungkook’s bedroom creaked open, Seokjin
assuming that the boy was taking a quick bathroom detour. Instead Jungkook lingered by his
doorframe, hand scratching at his upper thigh, basketball shorts riding up to reveal pasty white
skin.
“You awake Jin?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I chill with you a bit? It’s kinda lonely in there.”
“Okay.”
A quick shuffling of feet, and then Jungkook was plopping down by his side, springs of the pull-
out practically screaming in protest. “Oops,” he giggled, grabbing an extra cushion and tucking it
under his own head. Comfortable silence, as the two of them lay there, slow and quiet breathing.
“Seokjin-ah.”
He turned in Jungkook’s direction, who was presently staring at the popcorn ceiling above.
“You still have my Sprite at your place?”
He couldn’t help but break into a cackle. “I do,” Seokjin wheezed. “Why, you want it back?”
“No, no. It’s not like that.”

“Can I drink it then?”
Jungkook turned so that they locked eyes, scoffing. “You don’t even like soda.”
“So what do you want me to do with it? Throw it away?”
“NO! I’ll come by and get it, sheesh.”
Jungkook had a way of being cute without realizing it. Seokjin found himself smiling as he closed
his eyes, settling into a place of peace, comfort. Simple pleasures he hadn’t felt in a long time.
More noise sounded from his left as Jungkook rolled onto his side so that he was fully facing
Seokjin.
“Jin,” the boy piped up again.
“Mm?”
“What I’m trying to say is…”
“Mhm?”
“When I put my Sprite in your fridge the other day, I remember seeing that the whole thing was
empty. And it made me kinda sad.”
Seokjin blinked his eyes open. “Oh.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m sensitive. Just seems like everyone’s going through a tough time lately.
Hobi’s thing with his family—” Seokjin had no idea. “—Joon not knowing if he wants to move
back or not…and Tae…Taehyung doesn’t play games with me anymore.” He was nibbling on his
lip, a certain innocence swimming in his eyes. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”
“No, it’s fine. Continue.”

“For you…just…uh.” He took a deep breath. “I know you like ordering in a lot but nothing beats a
home cooked meal, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not the best cook but I’m learning. Jimin’s teaching me, sometimes I watch Youtube videos. I
could…if you’re ever hungry and you wanna learn with me, you can always come over.”
“Thank you,” Seokjin found himself whispering. “I will.”
“Okay good,” Jungkook broke into a grin, all teeth. “I just want you to eat well.”
He fell asleep mere minutes later, soft snores escaping from his parted lips. With utmost care
Seokjin draped the blanket over Jungkook’s shoulders so that it covered the both of them. It was
strange, to think of all the love he’d received and for no good reason at all. He couldn’t help but
think of Taehyung, if he was being loved in the very same way. Of course he was. It was
impossible not to love him.
And then he remembered the disbelief on Taehyung’s face when Seokjin had confessed in his
drunken stupor. “I don’t know if I believe you.” He wondered why Taehyung didn’t believe him. If
he’d done too much to make him feel otherwise: unloved. Suddenly the guilt weighed far heavier
than just the one night alone; it became the weight of all their years together, combined.
How different love could feel from one person to the next. Intense and all encompassing with
Taehyung. Warm, comforting with Jimin and Jungkook. Seokjung, safe and steady. And his
parents; cold and lonely, empty and hollow. As if he’d lived his entire life in winter and his friends
came in like spring.
Love is fear, he’d learned at an early age. He hadn’t known it any other way until he did. And once
he’d gotten a taste of the real thing it was hard to look back.
His words from that night echoed tirelessly in his head.
I don’t want to be good anymore.

I’m so tired everyday.
I’m done, I swear I’m done.
I’ll leave them. I’ll do it.
He’d said it all with such infuriating confidence, fueled by liquid courage and backed by little else.
Could he ever follow through with such reckless claims? He laid there in the dark and considered
this, heart soaring for a moment before quickly sinking down, down. His pulse racing, his lungs
short of breath.
No matter what I do, I lose.
It was no use, to mull over hypotheticals and send himself into a downward spiral. Instead he took
a deep inhale, exhale and chose to focus on tangible things. The soft plush of the blanket, the
warmth of Jungkook’s body beside him. The hum of the heater.
He was teetering on the edge of reality and dreamland when he heard the front door creak open,
light from the hallway pouring in, then promptly snuffed as the door closed once more. The clunk
of shoes being toed off, jingle of items being tossed on the counter, faint scent of alcohol growing
stronger as footsteps approached their makeshift bed in the living room. Said footsteps came to a
halt at the bed, albeit on the opposite side; next to Jungkook. Through half-lidded eyes Seokjin
peered at the two in the dark, almost instantly regretting his decision when he saw Jimin leaning
down so that his face was inches away from Jungkook’s, Jungkook stirring from his slumber with
a small groan. “I’m sorry, baby,” Jimin whispered, fingers carding through Jungkook’s messy hair.
“What took you so long?” Jungkook whined, earning an endeared chuckle from Jimin. “Hey. I left
early ‘cause of you.” To which Jungkook continued to throw a silent fit, writhing under the covers,
Jimin pressing in closer with the same teasing tone. “What do I have to do to convince you, hm?” It
was when Jungkook relented with a shy giggle that Seokjin felt himself turning red, squeezing his
eyes shut and praying for sleep to befall him. Perhaps a minute more of whispers and giggles and
other soft sounds before he felt the mattress creak as Jungkook climbed off of it, two pairs of
footsteps leaving the living room and disappearing behind the bedroom door.
---
Graduation was always chaos. Students scattered about the auditorium, the room roaring with
chatter and laughter, faculty too burnt out to deal with the mess. The moment Seokjin’s department
was called on stage to receive their diplomas he and his friends were quickly pushed to the back in
the frenzy, Seokjin barely able to make out his family and friends over the sea of black caps. His
mother, balancing on her tiptoes with a phone outstretched, desperate to capture photographs of the
moment. His father and Seokjung sitting placidly beside her, Park Jimin standing on a chair and
waving wildly in Seokjin’s direction, an embarrassed Jungkook cowering in the seat next to him.
The real celebration took place in the Royal Suite of the Signiel Hotel, an intimate crowd of close
friends and relatives gathered in the double story living room, floor to ceiling windows overlooking
the expansive Seoul skyline. Soft jazz crooned through the speakers, an elaborate buffet and open
bar at the ready in the dining room. Guests trickled in through the entryway, marveling at the
views before heading straight for the food and booze.
He’d never seen his high school friends dressed so elegantly, each of them donned in suits of
different styles and colors, Jungkook looking particularly dapper in a custom fitted navy blue
ensemble. With a brisk walk Seokjin maneuvered through the partygoers, skidding to a stop in
front of his friend and giving him a light slap on the ass. “What about me?” Hoseok pouted,
Seokjin scowling and giving him a sizable smack too.
“Okay but who looks the best, out of all of us?” Jimin piped up, voice laced with a competitive
edge. He took a step back to get a better look, stifling a laugh as Jungkook and Jimin awaited his
answer with comedic intensity.
“Hobi, of course,” he winked, walking away from their huddle to let them brawl amongst
themselves.
There was something about everyone being in the same room made him incredibly nervous.
People from all walks of life mingling, intertwined together. Seokjung striking up a conversation
with Yoongi over glasses of whiskey. Jungkook chatting animatedly with Seokjin’s aunt and uncle
from Incheon. Jimin entertaining one of his kid cousins with the same stupid magic trick, the one
with the dismembered thumb. He was grateful, inexplicably so, that Jia and her family were absent
from the affair; she had her own graduation to attend to. The thought of eventually introducing her
to Jimin, Jungkook, and the rest of the gang was paralyzing.
He hadn’t seen his friends’ parents in a while. Rarely did his family invite the Parks, the Jeons, the
Jungs to soirees like this, but an exception was made for Seokjin’s sake. Strange, how they all lived
in the same city yet it’d been literal years since their last meeting. He watched in amusement as the
other parents swarmed around Jimin’s dad, his own father somewhere in the mix, all of them
thoroughly engrossed in Mr. Park’s elaborate storytelling.
But there was a certain family noticeably missing, Taehyung’s parents nowhere to be found.
Understandably Taehyung would fabricate an excuse to sit out on the occasion, but Mr. and Mrs.
Kim were the best of friends with his parents; their absence, unprecedented and unsettling. Why
were they missing? Had Taehyung told them what happened? A new kind of panic began to set in.
His mother was currently catching up with Jimin’s mother, the two women hovering over the hor
d'oeuvres station and chattering animatedly. He beelined towards them as if on autopilot, barely
managing to catch the tail-end of their conversation.
“But where’s Taehyungie and his family?” Mrs. Park inquired, taking a nibble from her plate.
“They couldn’t make it,” he heard his own mother reply, waving off the question with haste.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Seokjin cut in, giving his mother’s shoulder a small squeeze. “Eomma, we’re
out of white wine. Should I have room service bring up more?”
“Yes of course, go ahead,” she agreed. “Whatever we’re low on just order more.”
He phoned downstairs to have more bottles of Chardonnay brought up, then maneuvered to the bar
to pick up his fourth drink of the night, the hotel’s signature Bella Rose cocktail. Tried to wash
down the waves of anxiety with something sweet. “They couldn’t make it,” his mother’s words
raced through the echo chamber in his head. Stop overthinking, he chided himself as he scanned
the dining room for a distraction, gaze settling upon Namjoon and Daisy speaking in low tones by
the windows. He watched as Daisy glanced at her phone before stepping aside to take a call,
Seokjin quietly sliding into her place to stand beside Namjoon.
“Hey,” Namjoon mumbled softly, giving Seokjin an affable pat on the back. They clinked glasses
before fixing their eyes on the scenery ahead, everything drowning in a deep dusty blue, buildings
blinking awake one by one, gold and glittering. “I missed this view.”
Perhaps it was the stark contrast of it, their present moment versus when they’d first met. Gangly,
nerdy Namjoon who’d lost his entire stash of pencils in week one, plus all of Seokjin’s spares. The
Namjoon who was too busy for council meetings, who blew past the rest of them on his rickety
hand-me-down bike, zipping between school and hagwon, the library and home. And in the blink
of an eye he was flying halfway across the world, attending the university of his dreams, falling in
love with the girl of his dreams, too. Where most people’s dreams had a way of being buried and
forgotten, Namjoon’s were always sure to come alive, full bloom.
A small part of Seokjin envied him. But more than anything, admired him.
“Makes me happy to hear you say that.”
“Really?” Namjoon chuckled. “Why’s that?”
“Don’t know. You’ve got this whole other life apart from us. It’s tough only seeing you once a
year, if we’re lucky.”
“It’s hard for me too. I miss Seoul all the time.”
Seokjin raised a brow in surprise. “I heard you’re thinking of settling down in America though.”
“Not gonna lie to you, I am,” Namjoon admitted with a shrug. “A law degree over there is pretty
prestigious. Guess it just depends on where I’d want to practice.”
Even in his uncertainty he sounded fearless.
“Are you leaning towards one or the other?”
A long pause, as a tiny airplane glided through the evening sky, lights blinking until it disappeared
behind a cloud.
“To be honest, I have no fucking clue,” he murmured, fingers gripping tightly around the stem of
his glass. “I’m scared. I’m freaking out, Jin. That the next decision I make will be the wrong one.”
He wanted to confess the same. To openly declare, “me too,” and laugh about it together. Instead
he offered the best that he could; a careful smile, words of comfort. “No matter where you go
you’ll find a way to make it work.”
“Thanks man,” he grinned, dimple forming in the hollow of his cheek. “You always know what to
say. Makes me want to come home.”
---
Everyone leaving the party was intoxicated, on a spectrum. Seokjin with a mere buzz, his mother
slightly tipsy, his father plastered; hence one of his drivers was summoned to the hotel to give their
family a lift home. His father sat in the front seat beside the ahjussi, Seokjin and his mother in the
second row, and Seokjung camped out in the very last row, headphones nestled snugly in his ears.
The alcohol had barely made a dent in his sobriety.
His father was in far better spirits than usual, retelling a particularly entertaining story Jimin’s
father had shared at the party.
“Anyway,” he trailed off into chuckles. “It’s funnier when he says it. I think Jimin gets his sense of
humor from his dad.”
Seokjin tried to stay engaged but remained hopelessly distracted. Antsy, anxious. The four of them
were headed home, but it was one of those nights where “home” was the last place that felt like
home. Most of the snow on the ground had been cleared away by salt trucks and foot traffic, with
only a few patches and piles lining the curbs, marred with dirt and frozen cold. Inside the car there
hung a pleasant buzz thanks to the alcohol, but Seokjin’s insides were buzzing on a different
frequency.
He couldn’t keep it in anymore. He had to know.
“Why weren’t Taehyung’s parents there?”
His mother, whose face had been illuminated by the ghostly glow of her screen, glanced up from
her device to blink incredulously at her son. “Why are you asking?” She questioned, locking her
phone, screen going dark.
“Just thought they’d be there,” he replied, keen on keeping his voice level. “I knew Taehyung
wasn’t coming,” he fibbed. “But I thought his parents would show up anyway.”
“I didn’t realize you cared whether they came or not.”
Seokjin spoke before his mind could play catch up. “I do,” he was surprised to hear himself say. “I
do care. They’re important to me.”
The lapse thereafter stretched longer than usual, their car rolling to an eventual stop at a red light,
everyone within it sitting in dead silence. Seokjin wished desperately for noise, any noise to
occupy the void; side conversations, a radio program, only to be met with hollow, empty.
Something about the quiet made him squirm in his seat.
“I actually wanted to find a time to talk to you about this,” his mother began, and already Seokjin
began to feel dizzy. “But I guess since you brought it up now, might as well talk about it.”
Seokjung had been listening to music. Seokjin had heard it, faint hip-hop blaring from his earbuds.
The thrumming had stopped and his brother was now listening to them instead.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the news about Taehyung’s engagement.”
He felt his heart plummet to his stomach.
“Yeah. Why?”
Another pause, as his mother side-eyed the driver, then pressed a button so that a divider rose
between the front seats and the back rows. It was just the three of them now, Seokjin’s palms damp
with a thin film of sweat, Seokjung perched behind him and pretending not to eavesdrop.
“His mom only told me recently that Taehyung got engaged. I didn’t even know he was dating, so
you can see how this news came as a surprise to me. But still I was happy for him, happy for their
family. I wanted to hear all about his fiance. See pictures of her, know what kind of person she is,
find out how they met. But his mom was very secretive about it. She wouldn’t tell me anything. I
thought it was strange but I didn’t say anything at the time.”
Seokjin nodded.
“And then the other day I was meeting with his mom again, and this time I started to really hound
her about it. I told her it was odd of her to hide things from me, so eventually she caved and
showed me a picture of Taehyung and his fiance. At first I thought she was joking, but then I saw
her face and realized she was serious.”
He wanted to vomit, a bitter taste on his tongue.
“Seokjin-ah,” she turned to face her son, eyes sad but gaze firm. “We cannot associate with people
like this.”
She’d placed her hand over his, but her touch felt suffocating, like a trap. Despite knowing that he
shouldn’t, he wiggled his hand out from underneath hers, his mother widening her eyes in surprise.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, hand falling tentatively to her side. “That I’m being
unfair right now. That Taehyung’s been your good friend for a very long time, and it’s hard to hear
me say these things. But I know you know that eomma’s just telling the truth. People can change.
Taehyung has changed.”
Except he hadn’t. He’s always been the same.
“He hasn’t.”
“For him to make a decision like this, I’d say he has,” she fired back. “Not the sweet boy I used to
know. Trust me when I say this. You want to surround yourself with good people in your life.
Maybe it’s hard to cut him out now but eventually you’ll realize that you made the right decision.
You have to distance yourself, you understand me?”
“I don’t understand,” Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain it but bubbling over by the
second. “I’m sorry, I don’t. I don’t understand.”
“Think about their future,” she leaned closer, voice lowered to a whisper, scathing. “When the two
of them walk around, holding hands in public. How other people will laugh at them. Not just them,
their family too will be ridiculed. If not to their faces then behind their backs. And they’ll never
bear children. Think about that, Seokjin. For his mother to encourage him to walk down this kind
of path…” She shook her head in disdain. “What kind of mother is she?” What kind of mother
would I be, to allow my son to be around people like that?”
“Why does it matter what others think?”
She leaned away from her son, perplexed by his anger, his rising emotion. “Seokjin-ah. Why are
you getting mad over something like this? I don’t see you spending time with Taehyung any more
these days, so why does it matter to you?”
He didn’t want to cry in front of her, so he turned to look out the window, at the rainbow of city
lights blurring and bleeding together, hoping that if he stopped talking the conversation would end
too.
“Tell me truthfully, Seokjin. Have you known about this?” She demanded sternly. “About the kind
of person Taehyung is?”
“What if I have?” He murmured, barely audible.
“Are you okay with it?”
No answer. His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants.
“From now on,” she warned. “You do not talk to that boy anymore. You do not talk to his parents
anymore. That whole family, you stay far away. You hear me?”
Still no answer. The vehicle came to a halt at yet another red light. Not a hint of sound from the
front seats. Seokjin wondered if his father could hear any of the conversation at hand.
“Kim Seokjin. Answer me.”
“…”
“Answer me. NOW.”
“I’m gonna go for a walk.”
Without warning he yanked on the door handle and threw it open, tumbling out into the cold and
slamming it close with a loud clang of metal. He could hear his mother’s cries as she rolled down
the car window, Seokjin ignoring her pleas and taking quick strides away from the traffic. Home
was still a bit of a ways off, at least another ten minutes by car. Seokjin had little idea as to where
he was and where he was headed, but he didn’t mind.
Very quickly, messages began to bombard his phone.
Mom: Seokjin, come back. Now.
Mom: Our car is in the same spot that you left.
Mom: Do not keep us waiting
Mom: It’s been 5 minutes, we’re still here
Mom: When you come home we’ll talk. Take a taxi, it’s cold out.
Nothing from his father. He muted his mother’s number and tucked his phone into his pocket.
From a distance he spotted a large bridge materializing behind the cityscape, Seokjin taking
measured steps towards it as if he’d meant to find it. Trekked slightly uphill until he reached the
bridge’s pedestrian walkway, a couple of bicyclists zipping past him onto the narrow path. Slowly
he pressed forward, river running black beneath the concrete structure, passing cars shaking the
ground underneath his feet. He thought of the new day that awaited him, a strange life that didn’t
belong to him, yet he’d committed to. He thought of Mrs. Kim, the anger she must’ve felt. He
thought of Taehyung and wondered if he knew. Prayed that he didn’t.
He stood there until his entire body turned numb. Some cars slowed as they passed him, drivers
unsure of what to do at the sight of a boy leaning on a bridge railing. No one stopped for him. The
wind kept howling, whipping at his skin until he couldn’t feel his limbs. Over the years he’d
learned how to numb himself of all pain but this time he could still feel it, wave after wave rattling
against his chest.
He lost track of time. What felt like half an hour later, he couldn’t be sure, Seokjin felt a steady
vibration in his pocket. Thought I muted her, he mused as he fished his phone out of his pocket,
blinking disbelievingly upon seeing his brother’s caller ID flash across the screen instead. With a
trembling hand he accepted the call, pressing the device to his ear, the screen like ice against his
skin.
“Seokjin-ah,” his brother's voice came in gentle, worried.
“Hyung.” He felt like a kid again.

“Seokjin-ah, can you tell me where you are?”
He swallowed thickly. “I’m-I’m not sure.”
“Okay. That’s okay. Stay right there, send me your location. Hyung will come get you. I’ve got
you.”
---
The cafe, like always, was busy. Patrons gathered around dainty round tables, light pop music
streaming from the sound system, bell by the doorway welcoming every new visitor. Usually the
atmosphere between the two women was just as warm, lovely, but suddenly the tides had turned;
iced over, frost. For a long while there lingered an uncomfortable silence, Taehyung’s mother
clutching her purse protectively in her lap, Seokjin’s mother with her arms folded across her chest,
shaking her head.
“I stand by what I said,” the older woman spoke coldly, breaking the silence. “And you lied to me,
Sunyoung. I can’t believe you lied to me.”
Mrs. Kim gripped the handles of her bag until her knuckles turned white. “I didn’t lie to you. I kept
it from you. Because I think deep down I knew you’d react like this.”
“What other reaction did you expect.”
The entryway jingled cheerfully as a fresh wave of customers stepped into the shop, the barista
greeting them with the standard welcome. It almost felt mocking. With a tremulous sigh Mrs. Kim
averted her gaze down to her lap as she reached behind her to grab a hold of her coat, pulling one
arm through a sleeve, then another.
“Where are you going.”
“Unnie, I—” she finally looked up through glassy eyes. Rose to her feet, coat wrapped tight
around her small frame. “I will not allow you to ever talk about my son like that ever again.” Her
voice trembled yet she enunciated every word, chest rising and falling with effort. An abandoned
latte sat on the pretty marble table.
There was a flash of anger in Seokjin’s mother’s eyes.
“And I hope to god you don’t talk to your own son like that too.”
She walked out of the cafe, and the little silver bell above the door danced as she did.
Chapter End Notes
Thanks so much for keeping up with this WIP and being patient between updates. It
means a lot to me.
There are 2 scenes that may be confusing to you, and I'm here to briefly explain: 1)
Jikook and 2) the moms at the end.
1) This scene does not confirm that Jikook are together romantically. It's meant to be
ambiguous, so take what you will from it!
2) The scene with the moms is a flashback...I italicized the text to make that more
clear. Essentially the moms met up for a regular coffee date and SJ's mom was being
pushy to see TH's fiance. So TH's mom finally told her about TH + HS, which earned a
negative reaction from SJ's mom. When TH's mom says “And I hope to god you don’t
talk to your own son like that too," she simply means that she hopes SJ's mom is not as
cruel and judgmental towards her own son as she is to TH. It has nothing to do with
sexuality, moreso her general treatment of people. Rest assured she's not outing SJ.
I just have one request: please do not discuss the contents of this particular chapter
publicly on Twitter timeline, especially the events in the last scene. Try to keep it in
the comments section here or within DMs. It’s a very heavy, sensitive topic and I don’t
want these characters’ irl counterparts’ names to be mixed in with this fictional drama.
Big big big reminder that this is fiction and has NOTHING to do with the real life
boys.
There are a number of unread comments in my inbox from previous chapters…I

haven’t gotten around to responding yet but I promise you I will, once time allows.
Please continue to share your feedback with me for this chapter as well! I definitely
prefer your comments consolidated here as opposed to Twitter.
Hope all of you are doing well. This time of the year is tricky to navigate…I think the
holiday season unwittingly brings about a lot of grief and heartache. If you’re having a
hard time just know that you’re not alone, that this season will pass, and that you’re
deserving of good things. I found a quote on Twitter the other day about how even the
ugliest parts of us deserve love. If anything, it’s these most broken facets that need
love the most. I used to HATE myself for my mental illness, my self-sabotaging
tendencies, just overall very…destructive ways? And it wasn’t until I approached these
sides of myself with gentleness that I was able to begin a healing process. Anyway. I
just wanted to share that. The concept of self care/self love may seem cliche but
everything else does flow from there. You have to love yourself first.
If I don't update again before the holidays, have a good time and stay safe. <3
Part 3
Chapter Notes
Thanks for waiting. Enjoy. :)
April
It was a rare occurrence for his workday to end while light was still out. Perhaps time was working
in his favor with the coming of spring, the days growing longer, night settling in slower. Ripping
off his shoulder bag and suit jacket in a frenzy, he scurried over to his hotel room mirror to get a
glimpse of his reflection; collar of his white dress shirt damp with perspiration, hair unkempt from
running around the city all day. He gave a half-assed attempt at running a hand through the mess
before giving up entirely, disappearing out of his room and catching the elevator down to the lobby
level.
“Good evening, Mr. Kim,” the concierge greeted him as he skidded to a halt at their desk.
“Hi,” he answered breathlessly. “I want to…ride the ferry? To Kowloon,” He spoke in broken
English. “Can you show me…”
The staff provided him a set of simple directions, Seokjin listening intently and committing it to
memory. With a nod of gratitude he dashed out of the revolving door, swinging right as the
concierge had advised, then briskly paced down the crowded sidewalk until he found the correct
subway station entrance. A sea of similarly-clad office workers followed him onto the train, then
off of it, then straight ahead down a lengthy skybridge to the ferry terminal; pinnacle of rush hour,
city ballooning to its full capacity.
The ferry itself was a rickety old thing albeit charming in its own right, peeling metal and hard,
wooden seats. He ventured onto the open-aired lower level and headed towards the bow of the
ship, picking the window seat in the very first row and settling in as comfortably as he could.
Hong Kong’s climate was noticeably more mild than that of Seoul, the evening breeze cool and
gentle against his skin. He’d rushed to the ferry in hopes of catching a sunset over the water, but
that evening a thick layer of clouds hung over the city’s skies instead, the world dusted in a
periwinkle haze. Not what Seokjin had expected but not exactly a let down either. Dreamlike.
Seats around him began to fill up, Seokjin sensing a stranger sliding into the vacant spot beside
him but choosing to pay no mind to them. Not long after the boat lurched forward with a sputter,
engines whirring, a light mist spraying in its wake.
It was his first solo business trip without the supervision of his father. For months the father-son
duo had traveled back and forth between Seoul and Hong Kong, the movements of it all eventually
becoming muscle memory. The rush from the airport to the hotel, where the staff now knew him
on a first name basis, then from the hotel to the clients, days inundated with meetings and evenings
filled with dinners, nights spent in the quiet solitude of their individual hotel rooms, Seokjin in his
own suite and his father usually in the room next to his. On certain nights he could hear his
neighboring door open and close, cautious footsteps disappearing down the hall, but come the next
morning he’d never bother to ask.
But it was nice to be here alone. In his father’s company, a constant reminder of reality. Without
him, another world.
“Excuse me.”
A gentle voice to his left interrupted his thoughts, Seokjin swiveling around to find the source, a
young man with a hefty camera in hand. “Can I…take picture?” He spoke in fragmented English as
well, pointing at the scenic backdrop behind Seokjin.
“Oh, sure,” Seokjin replied to the best of his ability. “Do you want to sit…” He gestured between
his own seat and the stranger’s, insinuating that a switch be made.
“No, no,” the stranger shook his head with a smile. A short pause followed by a small “thank you,”
and then he was leaning forward into Seokjin’s space, snapping a couple shots of Victoria Harbour
at dusk. Seokjin held his breath until the stranger retreated back into his own seat, waiting a beat to
see if the conversation would continue. Believing it to be the end of their exchange, he fixed his
gaze back upon the view, only for the voice beside him to pipe up again.
“Are you Korean?”
This time the stranger had spoken in their mother tongue, Seokjin turning in surprise once more and
realizing, in somewhat of a panic, that the boy was in fact quite handsome. Jet black hair, deep
brown eyes, an almost doll like face boasting near-perfect symmetry. A plain white tee that he
somehow managed to make look expensive, plus a sizable Canon DSLR secured by a strap around
his neck. Comfortably rich, Seokjin concluded in a quick glance.
“I am,” he relaxed into his mother tongue as well. “How’d you know?”
“I just know with these things,” the boy grinned. “Saw you boarding earlier and could tell right
away.”
“Good eye.”
“What brings you to Hong Kong?” The stranger pressed on, clear and confident.
“Here for work. You?”
“I’m a university student back in Seoul. But it’s senior year, so I’m skipping classes. Just wanted to
get away for a bit.”
“Didn’t the semester just start for you?” Seokjin teased accusingly.
“It did, yeah.” They shared a laugh. “Are you working in Hong Kong full time?”
“No, just a trip. I have to go back to Seoul tomorrow, actually.”
“Ah, bummer. So soon,” the student wrinkled his nose, a hint of a dimple forming in his cheek.
Seokjin could feel his own palms beading with sweat, wiping them on the fabric of his pants as
discreetly as he could.
“Is this your first time in Hong Kong or…”
“First time, yeah,” the boy nodded. “I’ve always wanted to visit but didn’t have the time. The
weather’s great. Almost don’t want to go back.”
And indeed it was a perfect night, the boat gliding through the middle of the harbor now, old ships
with ancient sales of china blue and ruby red passing like ghosts, a silver disc of a moon hanging
from the sky.
“You came at a good time. It gets hot in the summer.”
“I can imagine.”
A pleasant silence passed. Behind them a small child babbled in a foreign language, their mother
answering in practiced patience.
“What kind of photos do you take?” Seokjin asked, struck by a sudden curiosity.
“Mostly landscapes,” he answered excitedly. “This city’s great for it. Got a good mix of urban and
nature. Wanna see?”
Without knowing a thing about photography, Seokjin nodded.
The stranger switched on his device and began flipping through the camera roll, the two of them
scrolling through a slew of impressive pictures, rolling green mountains and turquoise beaches,
vibrant nightlife and dazzling lights. All of it was gorgeous in a way that went above Seokjin’s
head.
So engrossed the two were in conversation that they didn’t notice the ship slowing as it approached
the other side of the bay, rumbling engine cutting into a loud clunk, the ferry docking at the pier
and passengers disembarking on cue.
They walked and chatted side by side like old friends, meandering off of the pier so that they stood
opposite the skyline of Hong Kong Island, glittering in the waning light. Tourists and locals alike
joined them by the railing, water’s edge, marveling at the sight of the city coming alive at night.
Like clockwork the boy lifted up his heavy DSLR to capture the moment, taking two or three shots
before lowering the camera with a nibble of his lip.
“Do you want a pic?” He suddenly offered Seokjin.

“Me?” He cocked his head questioningly. “I thought you only photographed scenery.”
“Exactly,” the stranger winked, Seokjin desperately hoping the darkness would hide his blooming
crimson.
“Hmm.”
“You don’t have to say yes. Just thought you matched the vibe.”
“Well if you say so, show me what you got.”
“No, you,” he jested in a way that almost felt like flirting. Seokjin buried the thought and looked
straight into the camera lens.
“No, no,” the boy shook his head. “Look off into the distance,” he directed. “Look at the lights and
pretend you’re deep in thought.”
To which Seokjin ended up laughing instead, camera shutter clicking mid-cackle; a perfect
photograph, wind cooperating nicely and toying with his tresses. But the memory flooded back
faster than he could register it, the sights and sounds of the Han in the summer, playing hooky and
biking along the river of gold. Taehyung urging him to pose against the setting sun, barking orders
in his own distinct way: “Put your hand in your pocket! Now look away, pensively! Yesss Seokjin-
ah, you’re a model!” All of their pictures from that day came out blurry, but the memory remained
crystal clear. His laughter faltered into something pensive.
“Look,” the boy reeled him back to present day, showing Seokjin the pictures he’d just taken,
beaming with pride.
“Wow.”
“Told ya. Want me to send them to you?”
The idea of exchanging information somehow terrified Seokjin. Breath hitching in his throat, he
hesitated.
“Or how about this,” he continued. “I don’t know if you’ve got plans tonight, but I’m not really
doing anything. Did you want to get dinner?”
Throughout their entire interaction the student had remained cool as a cucumber, smoother than
Seokjin could ever hope to be, but there in the waiting as Seokjin contemplated the proposition, he
could see a flash of nervousness in the other’s eyes. Or was he reading into it too much? It was
almost too good to be true, for someone that handsome to be hitting on him.
“I have plans,” Seokjin lied. “Business dinner, actually.”
“Ah right, of course. You’re dressed like that,” he nodded, running a hand through his hair,
flustered.
“But uh…hey. Why don’t you uh…give me your info, so when we’re both back in Seoul I’ll make
it up to you? Drinks on me.”
“Really? Alright, okay.”
It was as Seokjin reached for his phone, fingers hovering over the screen that he realized quite
foolishly: “I didn’t even get your name.”
“Eunwoo. Cha Eunwoo,” he chuckled sheepishly. “And you?”
“Seokjin. Kim Seokjin.”
“Well, Seokjin-ssi,” Eunwoo quirked a brow as they finished swapping numbers. “I’ll hold you to
it.”
He walked away backwards, giving Eunwoo a friendly wave before turning on his heel with no
particular direction in mind. It was hours later, after Seokjin had eaten dinner on his lonesome, that
he received the photos Eunwoo had taken earlier. He saved all of them to his camera roll, thanked
Eunwoo for the contribution, and left the conversation at that. He didn’t want it to go further.
Knew that it couldn’t even if he did.
He was content, simply, to have had the moment and enjoyed it.
---
His parents had a habit of cooking up a feast every time before they traveled, which was usually
met with enthusiasm on Taehyung’s part; except this time he could feel anything but. Instead he
found himself anxiously glancing between his half-eaten bowl and the clock on the wall, the rest of
the family nearly finished with their portions, Taehyung nowhere close to being done. He could
feel his mother’s eyes boring a hole through him, the contents of his bowl continuously growing as
she added more and more food that he didn’t have the appetite for.
“Here,” she murmured, laying another piece of prime kalbi on top of his pile. “Your favorite. Eat
more, Taehyung-ah.”
“I can’t,” he let out a small sigh. “I’m full.”
“You’ve barely eaten, what are you saying?” She chided. “Eat more now even if you’re not
hungry. By the time you get to Jeju it’s going to be so late.”
“I can always grab food from 7-11 or something. It’s fine.”
“Yah, silly. Why would we give our money to 7-11 when we get to eat your parents’ cooking for
free?” Hyungsik cut in, flashing a smile at Taehyung’s mother.
“Right? Our Hyungsikie always knows what’s best. Did you try the jjigae yet honey?”
“I did. I’ll have some more though.”
He zoned out of the chatter surrounding him, mostly Hyungsik engaged in animated conversation
with his father about the family business, his siblings from time to time chiming in, voices sharp, a
little too much. Taehyung contributed nothing, taking a nibble out of his rice then promptly setting
his chopsticks down. In several hours he and Hyungsik would catch a flight to Jeju, where they’d
spend the weekend scouting out wedding venues. Hyungsik organized the entire trip, from the
accommodations — a chic AirBNB with an ocean view — to the slew of appointments with
various event planners. Admittedly Taehyung seemed to be only going along for the ride, so much
so that he questioned whether his presence was needed at all.
“We should really get going soon,” his father piped up, everyone glancing at the clock and
murmuring in agreement.
“Your father’s right. Let me start clearing everything. Taehyung-ah, why haven’t you touched your
kalbi? Here, let me get the meat off the bone for you—”
“Eomma,” Taehyung snapped, just as his mother reached across the table. “Why are you doing
this? I’m not a baby anymore.”
An awkward pause, filled only with the sounds of his little brother chewing determinedly and
avoiding eye contact, followed by Eonjin clearing her throat with indignation. Taehyung peeled his
eyes away from his lap just in time to see his mother pursing her lips, eyes swimming with hurt. Per
usual it was Hyungsik caught in the middle again, and as he always did, he spoke up to break the
silence.
“Aigoooo, you’re totally a baby,” he teased, before turning his attention to his mother-in-law.
“Eomeonim, can we pack this to go? We’ll eat it on the plane.”
“Okay,” she conceded quietly, Hyungsik rising from his seat to help her consolidate the dishes into
tupperware.
“I’m gonna…finish packing,” Taehyung excused himself from the table, feeling several sets of
eyes on the back of his head.
With a shaky exhale he eased the door to a close behind him, surveying his weekend bag splayed
out on his bedroom floor. Hyungsik’s packed luggage was stacked neatly beside his, zipped up and
ready to go. Taehyung was missing just his swim trunks, which he believed to be hidden
somewhere in his childhood room.
He started with his dresser, searching from the top and working his way down, rifling through his
old underwear and PJs, cotton jammies with holes in all the wrong places. It was as he was
ransacking the third drawer that he heard the door open and close again, footsteps padding into the
room then coming to a stop at his office chair, which creaked with a new weight. Taehyung didn’t
need to look up to know that his fiancé had joined him.
Still nothing, as he dug through the stacks of jeans in the bottom-most drawer when he heard
Hyungsik’s light chuckling. “Wow. You really looked like a baby here. Both of you.”
He glanced up to see Hyungsik marveling at a picture frame of him and Jimin in middle school, the
photo their teacher had taken of them at the amusement park, baggy shirts and knobby knees. A
sheepish smile spread across his lips before Taehyung resumed his dogged search for the missing
swimsuit.
“Jiminie…he literally looks like a little chick,” Hyungsik cackled, fishing out his phone to take a
photo, presumably to send to Jimin for laughs. “His hair, my god.”
“He looks the same, doesn’t he?”
“Hasn’t aged a day.”
The panic hit him before the realization did, and by the time Taehyung looked up again Hyungsik
was already lifting up the other frame that had been face down, turning it over and staring at its
contents with an inscrutable expression. What could he make of the sweat slicked foreheads, two
pairs of moon eyes and apple cheeks, seventeen year old Seokjin gazing upon Taehyung like he’d
already figured out his forever?
“Don’t touch that.”
His own voice surprised him. The anger rising, confused him.
Hyungsik stared back at him, lines around his mouth tensing. Taehyung’s anger softened into guilt.
“Don’t touch that,” he reiterated, this time almost jokingly. “I look awful in that photo.”
The elder did as he was told, setting down the frame so that the picture was once again obscured
from view. “Well that’s a bit harsh of you,” he remarked. “But you know what’s even worse?”
“What?”
“How you don’t have any photos of me in here.” He pouted. “I feel left out.”
“But I don’t even live here anymore.”
“Yeah, but we come over often enough. It’d be nice to see—”
“I don’t see the point in it, hyung. Nothing here is really mine anymore, I mean…” He gestured
towards his teddy bear printed bedsheets, his high school textbooks scattered in random piles, the
dusty uniforms hanging in his closet, two sizes too small.
“Okay, okay. I get it.”
A slam of the last drawer as Taehyung heaved a sigh of frustration. “I can’t find them. Guess I just
won’t go in the water.”
“We’ll buy you a new one when we get there.”
“No point. We’ll only be there for two days, it’s not worth it.”
“But didn’t you say you wanted to go into the water?”
“It’s probably too cold this time of the year anyway.”
A pause. “Taehyung-ah.”
“What.”
“Sometimes…the way you talk.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes squeezing shut knowing full well he deserved whatever
was coming next.
“I think your mom is upset.”
“Shit.”
“Baby, you’ve been…really tense,” Hyungsik whispered. “I know you get absolutely sick of me
asking you what’s wrong but it’s really starting to…affect everyone around you. I’m worried.”
“I know. I know, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s work. I’m sorry.”
“And I get it. You just started, it’s normal to feel this way. Just try not to let it take over you, mm?
When you’re off the clock, you’re off the clock. Don’t think about all of that bullshit.”
“I know. I know, I’ve got to chill. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Hyungsik assured, easing out of the chair to plant a soft kiss on Taehyung’s forehead.
“Think of this as a mini vacation, okay? It’ll be good for us to get away.”
They emerged from the bedroom to find Taehyung’s father waiting at the dinner table, car keys
jingling in his hand; his mother leaning on the armrest of the couch, head perking up at the sight of
the boys lingering by the living room entryway.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No mom, it’s fine,” he shook his head. “Stay home and rest.”
“You sure? I don’t mind tagging along.”
Come to think of it, his mother had been fretting over him much more than usual as of late, and
Taehyung couldn’t pinpoint as to why. Was it because he wore his distress on his sleeve, so much
so that — like Hyungsik said — it was starting to affect everyone around him? More sinking guilt,
as he replayed the events that had transpired towards the end of dinner. She deserved better.
“Honey, we gotta hurry. We’re cutting it close,” his father urged.
“Oh right, the time. Go on and have you two, okay?”
“We will,” Hyungsik promised, leaning down to envelope her in a warm hug. “Thanks again for
the delicious meal.”
It was Taehyung’s turn to bid her goodbye, the boy looming over his mother’s petite frame, yet
somehow it was he who felt small in her presence. Jaw slack and the word “sorry” on the tip of his
tongue, he let out a small gasp instead as she pulled him into a tight embrace. None of it felt
normal, as if she was trying to convey something through her touch. When she pulled away, tired
and glassy-eyed, he felt his heart twinge within his chest in the most painful way, Taehyung
closing his eyes as she smoothed back the hair from his forehead and planted a quick peck on his
cheek.
“I love you so much, darling.”
“I love you too, eomma.”
---
The car-ride to the airport proved to be uneventful; light traffic, smooth sailing. Hyungsik kept
himself occupied with his phone in the backseat, Taehyung and his father sitting in contemplative
silence in the front. He stared blankly at the city streets ahead, imagining the pavement as the
rolling sea, willing himself to feel excitement for the days ahead.
“Taehyung-ah,” his father’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel.
“Mm?”
“Your mother…she doesn’t mean to be overbearing. She just really—”
“I know,” Taehyung sighed. “I know she loves me.”
His father smiled sadly. “That’s the thing, little one. I don’t think you know just how much she
loves you.”
---
They’d scoured through an endless array of wedding venues in Seoul but none of them quite fit the
bill. Churches, wedding halls, hotels, all of it feeling either too stuffy or tacky. “Why don’t we try
Jeju?” Hyungsik had pressed several times, Taehyung repeatedly rejecting the idea until his in-
laws made a gentle push for him to at least scope out the island.
He didn’t want to be here.
Their vacation home sat on a hill on the Northeastern coast, the sea black in the night, blue jewel
in the morning. From the moment they awoke on Saturday they rushed off to their appointments in
their little rental car, Hyungsik behind the wheel and Taehyung pensive in the passenger seat
beside him. The two of them toured beautiful spaces, indoors and out, traditional and modern, the
event planners of each venue chattering excitedly about their offerings and packages, Hyungsik
well prepared with an extensive list of questions.
They stood on the cliffside of their second to last location, western end of the island, Hyungsik
with his hand on the small of Taehyung’s back, Taehyung with his arms firmly crossed against his
chest. For a quiet moment they watched the yellow canola flowers sway in the wind, watched as
ships passed through the sun-dappled water. “You get a perfect view of the sunset every evening,”
the staff had advised them, who was now standing politely behind the pair, clipboard clasped
between her hands. “What do you think, baby?” Hyungsik murmured, hand shifting to wrap around
Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Really beautiful,” Taehyung replied softly, eyes squinting in the bright daylight.
“And it’s just within our budget too,” Hyungsik whispered. “I’d say this is my top pick so far.
What do you think.”
“Yeah, I’d say so too.”
After expressing their interest with the staff and briefly discussing the prospect of next steps, the
two hurried back to the sedan en route to their final destination, Hyungsik excitedly punching a
new address into the GPS.
“Man, I don’t know. I’m just so set on this one,” he chuckled, mistakenly typing the wrong number
and backtracking. “I’m swooning over that view. And it’s got enough space to accommodate
everyone too. That was one of my biggest concerns. Honestly part of me doesn’t even want to see
the last place, but I think it’s good to—”
“We don’t have to go,” Taehyung cut in, clicking his seatbelt into place.
“Hmm?” Hyungsik looked up from his phone, eyes widening in surprise.
“We don’t have to go see the others. If you think this is it let’s just go with this one.”
A small chuckle. “But baby, aren’t you just a little bit curious about the last one?” He cooed,
reaching across the aisle to lace their hands together. “What if it’s even better?”
“I feel like if we have too many choices it’ll overwhelm us.”
“Mmm,” He hummed, not necessarily in agreement but more in acknowledgement. Stealing one
more glance at Taehyung he decidedly shifted in his seat so that he was fully facing his fiancé.
“You feeling tired?”
“I think so,” he nodded, tiny smile straining on his lips. “Been a long day.”
“Do you want me to drop you off at home, and you can get some rest while I look at the last one?”
“That would be amazing, hyung.”
To call it “home” was somewhat of a farce, Taehyung having never resided in such a luxurious
space before; vaulted ceilings and an entire wall of glass overlooking the ocean, a spacious deck
with tables, chairs, and even a grill for entertaining, a proper king-sized bed with far more pillows
than necessary, all of the house’s furnishings a pristine, milky white.
Taehyung stepped through the front door on his lonesome, greeted by quiet and frankly relieved by
it. Poured himself a cool glass of water in the kitchen before navigating towards the living room
window, the sea stretching endlessly beyond it, everything blue. He stayed planted in his place for
a long time, relishing in the silence, drinking in the sight of it until he grew tired.
He eventually changed into his navy silk pajamas, drawing the blinds of their bedroom to a close so
that the room cast itself into darkness. Crawling into his side of the bed, he burrowed down deep
until the covers cocooned him, hiding him from the world. Closed his eyes and within minutes
drifted into a heavy sleep. He dreamt of nothing.
---
Someone was shaking his shoulder. Disoriented and without a handle on the time of day he blinked
his eyes open to Hyungsik’s blurry outline coming into focus, the older boy squatting at his
bedside sporting his usual smile.
“Hi sleepyhead,” he whispered, brushing the hair back from Taehyung’s forehead. “You’ve been
out for a while.”
“Have I?” He croaked groggily. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight. Come on, dinner’s ready.”
He followed the elder’s lead and stepped barefoot out onto the deck, breath hitching in his throat as
he caught wind of the set up before him. A small round table covered in linen and decorated with
flowers and candlelight, dusk settling over the island and shrouding the scenery in soft pinks and
blues. Standing back to take a commemorative photo, he then eased himself tentatively into the
seat opposite Hyungsik, eyes flitting towards the vase of peonies between their two plates, flowers
dainty and demure, fluttering in the evening breeze.
“When did you get all of this, hyung?” He questioned in awe, fingers reaching to caress the soft
petals.
“Tablecloth and candles and everything they had in the cupboards,” Hyungsik replied proudly.
“Flowers and food I got at the market on the way home. I think you would’ve liked it, it’s a really
cute little store.”
“I wanna see. Can we stop by tomorrow?”
“Of course. We’ll grab some ingredients for breakfast. You gonna wake up in time?”
“If you’re gonna cook for me, sure,” Taehyung beamed sweetly.
“How can I say no to that,” Hyungsik scrunched his nose in delight. “First time I’ve seen you smile
today. Let’s eat, before the food gets cold.”
They swiveled their chairs around so that they faced the water, working slowly through their meal
as they watched the colors drain out of the sky, lights in distant houses flickering on in the dark,
salt air warm and damp upon their skin. “You were right,” Hyungsik advised. “The last place we
saw together was the best. The other one I saw by myself…” He shook his head. “Too expensive,
shitty view, staff was in a rush.”
“I’m always right.”
An endeared chuckle. “That you are. Want me to lock it in tomorrow?”
He paused mid-chew to meet his fiancé’s gaze from across the table, devastatingly handsome in his
crisp white button down, strands of hair falling effortlessly into his eyes, a living, walking dream.
Contemplated the reality of marrying here, of cementing a new memory in a place that was
haunted by old ones. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible.
“I’m leaning towards yes,” Taehyung smiled. “But give me just a little more time to think about it,
yeah?”
They blew out the candles and carried the dishes back inside, working in tandem to clean the soiled
plates and stack them neatly in the drying rack. “Let’s put on a movie,” Hyungsik suggested, to
which Taehyung willingly complied, the pair taking to the couch and scrolling through their
options, eventually settling on a psychological thriller.
Lights out as the opening credits of the film rolled in, room descending into pitch black, Taehyung
propping his head on the armrest and Hyungsik laying his head on Taehyung’s stomach. “Have we
watched this before?” Hyungsik murmured, Taehyung shaking his head wordlessly.
The first fifteen minutes passed in relative silence, Hyungsik squirming about restlessly on the
couch, Taehyung fully focused on the screen, unmoving. Eventually the elder shifted so that his
head rested on Taehyung’s chest, ear pressed against his steady heartbeat.
“I don’t know if I’m dumb or what but I don’t understand what’s going on,” he chuckled
sheepishly, fingers absentmindedly curling into the fabric of Taehyung’s sweater.
“Just pay attention, hyung,” Taehyung mumbled, eyes still glued to the television.
A playful whine sounded from Hyungsik as he burrowed his face into the crook of Taehyung’s
neck, soft puffs of breath ghosting his skin, then slowly and tenderly, lips pressed to his jawline,
feather light. A couple more kisses and then he was moving further up, angling Taehyung’s face
away from the screen and towards himself instead, Hyungsik flashing a mischievous smile before
leaning down to capture Taehyung’s lips against his own. They kissed slow and languid, mostly
innocent pecks until Hyungsik pried his mouth open just a bit wider, warm tongue sliding in, a
groan sounding from the back of his throat.
“Hyung wait.”
With a sharp intake of breath Taehyung broke away from the kiss, twisting his head to the left and
fixing his eyes on a random spot on the carpet. For a moment nothing but the sound of labored
breathing and the movie buzzing impassively in the background.
“Y-Yeah?”
“Maybe…maybe not tonight, okay? Maybe when we get back to Seoul. I’m still exhausted.”
“I’m sorry,” Hyungsik murmured, peeling himself away so that he sat on the opposite end of the
couch, hardly touching Taehyung’s outstretched feet.
“Another day, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
There fell a painfully awkward hush over the room, Taehyung’s attention once again trained on the
television screen, Hyungsik staring blankly ahead but not actually watching, long legs tucked into
his body so that he sat curled up in a ball. And then without warning, he swiped up the remote from
the coffee table and aimed it at the TV, screen devolving to black, Taehyung turning to him in
surprise.
“I’m tired too, Tae.”
Only the moon beyond the window provided any semblance of light in the otherwise total
darkness, ghostly white disc suspended high in the sky, casting a twin reflection in the black water
below it. The sight of it all too familiar, haunting and mocking. How badly he wanted to run, yet he
remained frozen in his place, Hyungsik’s words holding him down, paralyzing him.
“What do you mean?” He mustered, trying his best to steady his voice.
Hyungsik buried his face into his hands.
Moving on automatic pilot, he scrambled out of his seat so that he kneeled in front of Hyungsik’s
hunched form. “Hyung, you’re scaring me,” he whispered, grabbing a hold of the elder’s feet,
thumb grazing across his ankle bone. “Talk to me. What do you mean.”
He regretted asking almost immediately, practically malfunctioning the moment Hyungsik lifted
his head to reveal streams of tears pouring down his cheeks. Hyungsik, by default, was happy.
Taehyung could count the number of times he’d seen him cry on one hand, and never before had
he seen him break apart like this; and because of him, no less. He didn’t know what to do.
“Hyung, why—”
“I am at my wits' end,” Hyungsik choked on his words.

“What are you saying?”
“I keep trying. And I feel like I’m the only one who gives a shit anymore. Like you’re always here,
you’re always with me but at the same time you’re not. I see you everyday and it’s like…like
you’re so far away from me. This isn’t what I…what I envisioned, us being together. I want t-to be
with you more than anything, but not like this.”
“Hyung, I didn’t realize,” Taehyung replied frantically. “I didn’t know you felt this way. I’m sorry.
I told you it’s work, it’s getting to my head, I’m—”
“I know that’s not true because it was like this before too,” Hyungsik shook his head vigorously.
“You’ve been slipping away for a while. I thought…I thought you’d come back around but maybe
I’ve been making a fool out of myself, haven’t I?”
He was smiling through his tears, which somehow made him seem sadder. Outside they could hear
the faint hum of waves crashing upon the shore, normally soothing but now ominous. Hyungsik
sobbed so terribly that his whole body trembled, breath hitching in his throat, chest heaving with
effort.
This was all his fault. He had to make it right.
“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here, I promise,” he begged, rising onto his knees to wrap his arms
around Hyungsik’s shoulders, pressing their foreheads flush together. Up close he could see little
beads collecting on the elder’s eyelashes before dripping onto his cheeks, rolling off of his chin
and landing in his lap. With gentle care he used his own sleeve to wipe them away. He didn’t know
which would inflict more grief; to hold on, or to let go.
So he held him for a long time, held him until the sobbing subsided to sniffles and hiccups,
Hyungsik’s eyes swollen and puffy, cheeks raw and red. And then they locked eyes, Hyungsik
leaning forward to place a kiss on Taehyung’s forehead, lingering and unsure.
“I love you,” Taehyung murmured, barely audible over the sea.
“Yeah. But I love you more.”
Chapter End Notes

Thank you once again for your patience, I realllllyyy appreciate it. Again life is
throwing curveballs at me and I'm trying to navigate it to the best of my ability. I don't
know about you but I'm really ready to move on from this past year.
The scene with the boat ride in Hong Kong was directly taken from my personal
experience with a stranger whilst on a business trip to that city. Only difference is the
stranger and I didn't talk because I was too chicken and I'm obviously not nearly as
beautiful as Seokjin lmfao.
Please do share your thoughts with me in the comments below, comments are like fuel
for my dying engine. <3 Don't be a silent reader. :D
Take care until next time.

Part 3
Chapter Notes
Enjoy. <3
Pouring rain.
He snuffed out his alarm with a drawn out groan, laid in bed with his eyes closed, listened to the
pitter-patter drumming against his window panes. Exactly five minutes later he blinked his eyes
open, taking a deep inhale, exhale before prying off his covers and readying himself for the day.
His morning routine was consciously simple, elementary enough so that he could run through it
with his eyes closed. Splash of water to the face, a bit of moisturizer and sunscreen, some
noncommittal hair styling before he’d duck back into his room and shimmy into the outfit he’d
picked out the night before. Outside the rain continued with no signs of relent, Seokjin digging
through his closets for an umbrella but to no avail.
Where’d I leave it? He thought to himself as he settled on a light outerwear instead, slipping out of
the entryway and locking his apartment with a buzz and a click.
The same old doorman greeted him every morning, Seokjin adjusting his shoulder bag across his
chest and offering a polite bow in return.
“You forgot your umbrella again?” The ahjussi called after him, evidently amused.
“Guess you’re not surprised at this point.”
There was always a flock of frenzied commuters making their daily pilgrimage down the sidewalk
and towards the subway station, Seokjin joining them in matching pace, his windbreaker shielding
his head from the downpour. The crowd descended the escalators, long line of worker ants passing
through the turnstiles one by one with the beep of their T-cards. Another flight of stairs before they
finally reached the subway platform, the air below ground a bit muggy thanks to the rain above.
Seokjin ambled to the far end of the platform, stepping behind the arrow and taking a brief survey
of his surroundings. It was the same people standing beside him day after day, a bored looking
woman who dressed immaculately no matter the weather, a kid on the chubbier side who’d play
games on his phone with one hand and vigorously pick his nose with the other. Seokjin always
made certain to stand a considerable distance away from him.
His subway ride wasn’t terribly long. Some had it worse. Some would have to transfer stations, hop
on a bus, trek a good distance, but Seokjin’s commute was pretty much a straight shot. His train
dropped him off an easy two minute walk from the office, one minute and a half from the coffee
shop he’d grab his morning pick-me-up from.
The door of the cafe jingled upon his arrival, Seokjin settling in at the end of the line and waiting
patiently for his turn.
“Back from your travels?” The barista chirped cheerfully, punching in his usual order without him
saying a word.
“Yeah, just got back yesterday,” he handed her his card. “Great timing,” he chuckled sarcastically,
gesturing towards the gloomy view outside.
“You always bring the rain with you,” she swiped his card in one fluid motion. “Guess the rain
isn’t so bad after all.”
Not knowing what to say in return he offered an awkward nod instead, puttering around in the
waiting area until his order was ready, Seokjin accepting his green juice with a cordial smile, the
plastic cold to the touch.
A thirty second jog through the rain and he was pushing through the revolving doors of his
building, muscling his way into the elevator and greeting anyone he recognized in his vicinity.
Most of his colleagues, even those of notable seniority, remained skittish in his presence; bidding
him overly polite greetings and stiff, forced small talk. Which only made his voyage through the
sea of cubicles ever more lonely.
His desk sat diagonal from his father’s glass enclosed corner office, Seokjin settling into it and
wiping a stripe of dust off of his dormant monitor. He hated sitting so close to his father, fearing
that his every move would be watched. Thankfully his father didn’t frequent the office too often,
and his neighboring desk-mates did a good job of obscuring him from view.
Mondays were guaranteed madness. Back-to-back meetings, most of them unneeded, Seokjin
digging his fingers into his thighs to stay alert through the endless droning. Snuck into the
employee cafeteria to throw back cups of coffee like shots before slinking back into his chair to
answer emails. Fix your posture, he chided himself, straightening his back as he pressed “send” on
a meticulously drafted response.
He hadn’t realized it was lunch time until he felt a familiar figure approaching his desk, Nayoung
tapping her pen lightly against his computer in greeting. “You free for lunch today?”
“Yeah. Just let me use the bathroom real quick.” A pause. “Did you bring an umbrella?”
“Of course,” she smirked. “And I bet you didn’t.”
“Yeap.”
“I’ll be downstairs.”
On the now infrequent occasion that Seokjin was in town, the two of them would grab lunch once
or twice a week at a mom-and-pop ramen shop a couple blocks down the road. The pair crowded
under the umbrella and took brisk strides towards the restaurant on the corner, its wooden
doorframe narrow and low, the atmosphere inside heated and cramped. But they refused to bring
their business to any other establishment, swearing by their savory broth and hefty portions.
The hostess seated them at their usual table in the back, Seokjin propping his head up in his hands
and releasing a lengthy sigh, Nayoung smiling sympathetically across from him. “Aigoo,
someone’s tired.” She tutted, breaking her chopsticks apart. “Hanging in there? Barely?” He
nodded wordlessly.
The waitress hurried over to their table, Seokjin placing the order for both of them without opening
the menu. “One Tonkatsu mild, one spicy. Two Sapporo’s.” To which Nayoung suddenly shook
her head, Seokjin widening his eyes in surprise.
“No Sapporo for me.”
“What?” He furrowed his brow. “You’re messing with me, right? Two Sap—”
“No really. I’m serious, none for me.”
“Really. Well alright then, just the one Sapporo.”
“And one water, lukewarm.”
Once the waitress was out of earshot he quickly shifted his attention to the older woman, studying
her with an air of confusion.
“Did you uh…cut out alcohol while I was away or something?”
The two never missed out on a glass of beer to take the edge off before heading back to the office.
“Believe me, I want it more than anything today. Especially after the shit-show with the new intern
this morning. But I can’t, I really can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I physically can’t.”
He paused to consider. “Diet?”
“While I’m sitting here eating ramen? Think outside the box.”
The beer arrived first, the waitress uncapping it for him, Seokjin mumbling a “thank you” as he
rested his lip on the bottle opening. Mulled over the various possibilities, gears of his mind turning
(albeit exceptionally slow), silence stretching until Nayoung heaved a sigh of impatience.
“Don’t hurt yourself kid.”
“Hold on, I’m still thinking.”

“I’m pregnant.”
She let out a cackle as he keeled over the side of the table, hand flying to his mouth to stifle the
choking sound. Moments later he managed to resurface, bleary-eyed and jaw slack with shock.
“Y-You’re serious?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”
His surprise bloomed into joy as the news sank in, a stupid smile spreading across his face,
Nayoung shaking her head with a fond chuckle as she lifted a spoonful of hot broth to her lips.
“You’re gonna be a MOM.”
“Yes I am indeed.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Too early to say. I’m only one month in. I think I’ll keep it a secret even when I find out.”
“Wow,” he whispered in awe. “I’m honored.”
“Honored for what?”
“That you told me.”
“Because you were trying to make me drink, babo . Don’t feel so special now.”
“Does anyone else at the office know?”

“Just you and Miss Hyojin.”
“How does she know?”
“Because she also tried to take me out for drinks.”
Still, he remained pleased.
“I’m still honored.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.”
“No but seriously,” he spoke to her in earnest. “Congratulations noona. I’m really happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she replied with equal warmth.
They put a brief pause to their conversation, slurping their noodles in quiet contentment. The storm
outside continued to pummel the earth, rain-slicked sidewalks, tires sloshing through puddles.
Inside the restaurant it was almost hazy, hot steam and choirs of voices rising.
“I thought you didn’t want kids,” he broke the silence, curiosity getting the best of him.
In the four years he’d known her she’d always scoffed at the idea of children, she and her husband
perfectly satisfied with their little family of two; three, if you counted their toy poodle Mimi.
“You’re absolutely right. I didn’t.”
“What made you change your mind?”

A thoughtful hum. “I don’t know. Woke up one day and I just…did. Just wanted something more.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Funny how fickle the human mind could be, he thought to himself as he drained the last of his
beer.
“Anyway, enough about me,” she cleared her throat. “What’s going on with you? It’s been a couple
months now. You happy working here full time? How was your first trip flying solo?”
“Hm.”
“Sorry,” she waved it off. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, no. I don’t mind sharing. Just uh…” He licked his lips nervously. “Secret for a secret?”
“Of course.”
“When I’m away,” he began carefully, fingers tracing the label of the empty bottle. “When I’m in
Hong Kong…especially this time, when I was alone…” Just say it. “It feels bad to admit this but I
uh…I felt really free.”
She nodded with knowing. “And when you’re here?”
“Not so much.”
“So you want to fly free. Be on your own.”
“I-I don’t know.”

A crowd of businessmen burst through the shop’s doors, loud and boisterous, their clamor
momentarily drowning out everything else in the room. Nayoung waited for the commotion to die
down before speaking again.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but it’s just something I noticed. Tell me to stop if you’re
uncomfortable with it. But I’ve noticed you and your dad are a lot alike.”
He hadn’t expected to hear this.
“How so?”
“You know I’ve been working at this company for…well, since its first days, really. And I saw
your dad in the beginning, how determined he was, how many hours he put in, how much he loved
his work. But nowadays…I don’t know. Doesn’t feel the same. Almost like he doesn’t want to be
here.”
“Yeah. That sounds like him.”
“Can I go so far as to say that…he’s eager to hand it off to you for that reason?”
No one had put it that bluntly before, so much so that it stung.
“If that’s true, I don’t want to bear his burden.”
“Nor should you have to,” she agreed. “Not saying that’s necessarily the case. Just thinking out
loud.”
“But you’re right, noona,” he interjected quickly, fervor rising in his voice. “My dad’s changed. He
used to care about everything and now...nothing. And you’re right, maybe I’m just like him. I used
to be so willing, so eager to please but lately I’ve been so tired.”
“And how do you feel about that?”

A sharp intake of breath. “It scares me. How people change. Just a couple years ago I swore I’d be
content with this life but now I’m not so sure.”
“Can I tell you something Seokjin?”
He nodded.
“When I was in university…I had just started dating my husband at this point. I used to love
karaoke.”
“I can see that.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Only when I’m drunk.”
“I enjoyed it stone cold sober. My girlfriends and I, we’d go out to karaoke and sing for hours on
end, jumping on the couches, swinging from the poles, screaming so loud you could hear us from
all the way down the hall. And then one day…I think I’d just started working, was it my twenty
third birthday? My girlfriends took me out for our usual round of karaoke. And I remember sitting
in the room with that big book in my lap, microphone in hand and suddenly I didn’t want to sing
anymore. I wanted to get out of there and never go back.”
“Oh wow.”
“Since it was my birthday I managed to convince everyone else to go to the sauna instead. It was
amazing.”
“Sounds like more of your speed.”
“What I’m saying is…if there’s anything I’ve learned in my unremarkable life, it’s that we’re all
constantly changing. The Nayoung that my husband said ‘I do’ to eight years ago is not the same
Nayoung that I am today. But through it all we learn, we accommodate, we grow together. Like
you said…maybe Seokjin from a year ago would’ve been okay with all of this. But Seokjin today
doesn’t want it anymore, and that’s okay. If your parents truly love you they’ll hopefully respect
your wishes. What’s most important is that you speak on behalf of your heart if it changes. Let
your voice be heard.”
---
He was used to waking up alone.
Hyungsik’s hours were much earlier than his, so by the time Taehyung blinked his eyes open the
bed was usually empty, the room pin-drop quiet.
Taehyung had never been much of a morning person, that is, until he started working; he’d turned
himself into one through dogged discipline. A quick, cold shower to shock him into wakefulness,
followed by a simple breakfast of citron tea and buttered toast, paired with a daily news podcast to
fill the otherwise silence. And then, to make his commute somewhat more interesting, he’d grab a
banana for the road and finish it on the way to the train station.
Every morning he hopped onto a different train. Either he was ridiculously early, somewhat early,
or at his worst, on time to the office. Not to mention the line he relied on was particularly crowded,
the passengers packed air-tight, shoulder to shoulder regardless of the hour. That morning he
happened to spot a vacant seat beside the hydraulic doors, Taehyung sliding into the space with
expert stealth, only to rise seconds later when a pregnant woman boarded the car.
Somewhere in the middle of his commute he had to transfer trains, and about three stops after the
transfer he’d exit the station and walk another ten minutes to his building. The trek never bothered
him too much; he counted it as his exercise for the day. Kept his head low, eyes fixed to the
ground, soft jazz crooning in his ears to quell the anxiety bubbling up from within.
His building was one of the newer ones in the district, cold grey exterior and fine marble interior,
still ever as terrifying as the first day he’d entered it. Up the elevator and onto his floor, through the
glass doors of his design firm, his head remained low save for every time he passed a superior,
Taehyung making forced eye contact and dipping into a frantic bow. Most of them breezed past
without a hint of acknowledgement.
It’s a prestigious firm, he justified the chilly atmosphere. Majority of the employees were older and
jaded, the younger ones cutthroat and unfeeling. His desk-mate, another junior designer just one
year his senior, seemed nice enough in the first several weeks, although over time his true colors
started to bleed through; petty side jabs, passive aggressive tendencies. Taehyung wished he
wouldn’t speak to him at all.
There was an older woman in the sales department he’d run into from time to time, usually when
he’d pass her desk on the way to the bathroom. At the very least she was kind, enough to coax a
smile out of him even on the gloomiest of Mondays. But that’s literally her job, he thought to
himself as he scrutinized his reflection in the bathroom mirror, poking and prodding at his dark
circles. She’s good at making nobodies feel like somebodies.
So no, he wouldn’t exactly count her as a friend, if asked.
Everyday brought forth a new bout of exhaustion. The office was ironically decorated in chic and
youthful patterns, minimalist shapes, clean lines, but all of the colors somehow muddled together,
everything grey, brain fuzz. He worked and worked without looking up from his screen, eating
takeout lunch at his desk, sometimes skipping meals altogether. He was lucky enough to get hold
of a Panda Express plate that afternoon when the shrill sound of his boss calling his name jolted
him from his happy place, Taehyung swallowing down his last bite and feeling as though he could
puke.
“Uh oh,” Jongsuk tutted quietly across from him, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Good luck with
him. He’s been in a bad mood today.”
He ignored the snide remark and peeled himself away from his seat, trying his best to calm the
trembling in his hands.
“Yes sir?” Taehyung murmured, lingering tentatively by the doorway.
“Nothing big. Just wanted to tell you the client was very happy with your designs,” his boss
commented offhandedly, preoccupied with organizing the various papers on his desk. Meanwhile
Taehyung (stupidly so) felt himself grow weak in the knees, swooning over a simple compliment
as if it were a love confession. “They have another project that they want you to take on, but it’s
going to be a lot of work. I know you’ve already got a lot on your plate. Think you can handle it?”
Not a moment’s hesitation. “Yes sir. I’ll work even harder this time.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

After enduring jealous glares from Jongsuk for the rest of the afternoon he finally managed to
leave the office at a reasonable time, clocking out with a pep in his step, the weather outside
seemingly rejoicing alongside him. It was almost June, the promise of summer kissing his skin, the
air balmy with heat and rich with laughter. He strolled towards the train station at an
uncharacteristically leisurely pace, for once taking the time to admire his surroundings, the
eccentric storefronts, eyes dancing from one window display to the next until he came to an abrupt
halt in front of a lingerie shop, its stucco walls a demure baby pink, behind the glass a mannequin
front and center draped in the most decadent silk robe Taehyung had ever seen.
He stood in front of the store in muted awe, admiring the detailing on the sleeves, the glint of the
fabric under the spotlight. He wondered what it would look like, the pretty black silk hugging his
slender frame. Wondered what Hyungsik would think, if he’d be able to think at all. His brain
would probably short-circuit.
He’d promised Hyungsik that things would change, but promises spoken in paradise looked a little
different once they’d stepped back into reality; both of their schedules remained chaotic,
mismatched, the two of them meeting at the end of their days with burdens on their back, weights
on their mind. Hyungsik hadn’t cried since Jeju, but it’d been a while since Taehyung had seen him
smile, too.
This could do it, Taehyung resolved, stepping into the store with a ding and renewed
determination.
---
He came home smelling like bread and coffee. Toed off his shoes and dropped his shoulder bag on
the counter as he refiled through the mail. Nothing of particular interest, a handful of pamphlets
and a coupon for the chicken and beer place around the corner. The apartment, until Hyungsik
entered, had been shrouded in darkness, the clock on the wall ticking to 9:00PM. Perhaps
Taehyung was still at work; it wasn’t uncommon for him to stay at the office this late. He couldn’t
decide whether he wanted Taehyung’s company or conversely, not. In a strange way it felt lonelier
to be in his presence than to actually be alone. He hated to admit it.
It was a surprise for him to walk into the bedroom and find light, the bedside lamps glowing rosy
and warm, clouds of steam seeping through the crack of their bathroom door. So Taehyung was
home already, and well into his nightly shower routine. For a moment Hyungsik lingered by the
closet, debating whether or not to change out of his clothes, ultimately deciding to stay in them;
Taehyung ironically loved the coffee smell. With a tired yawn Hyungsik plopped onto the covers
of their bed, closing his eyes just to rest, not to sleep. He quickly blinked open again at the squeak
of the faucet and the abrupt halt of water, Hyungsik taking the chance to survey the room and
realizing it was a bit messier than usual. Taehyung’s work clothes strewn across the floor, candy
wrappers left crumpled on their nightstand. His sweet tooth must’ve kicked in after dinner.
Hyungsik was a bit of a self-proclaimed neat freak, but something about Taehyung’s untidiness
was utterly endearing. He made a mental note to buy more chocolates tomorrow.
Tomorrow. He turned the word over in his head, one time too many.
When does tomorrow end?
The door of the bathroom creaked open, Hyungsik not knowing whether to close his eyes or to keep
them open. What happened as a result was an awkwardly drawn out blink, and then Taehyung’s
silhouette came into view, breathtaking in its own right, prompting Hyungsik to shift into a sitting
position, rubbing at his eyes for good measure. Kim Taehyung was fresh out of the shower, skin
dewy and glowing, cheeks rosy with heat, a luxurious silk robe hanging off of his pretty frame,
highlighting his sloping shoulders and the curve of his ass. Like clockwork Hyungsik could feel
fire flaring in his belly, the elder attempting to press it down, swallowing thickly.
“Is that new?” He asked, as Taehyung coyly checked out his reflection in the full length mirror.
“Yeah,” the younger replied, turning to face Hyungsik while toying with the belt tied loosely
around his waist. “You like it?”
“Of course, babe,” Hyungsik tried to remain cool as Taehyung sat himself at the edge of the bed,
gaze drawing him in, tiger eyes. “You look so sexy.”
Which was more than enough encouragement for Taehyung to lower himself so that he was laying
down beside him, legs kicking up in the air to reveal golden skin, fabric of the robe riding up right
underneath his hips, glorious, beautiful, sinful curves. Suddenly Hyungsik found it difficult to
make eye contact. Taehyung knew he’d already fallen under his spell.
“So are you gonna do anything about it?” Taehyung whispered, Hyungsik effectively short-
circuiting.
Too many things happened all at once, Hyungsik dizzy as he tried to keep up; Taehyung rising
from his place to straddle his lap, Hyungsik getting hard almost instantly upon realizing Taehyung
was wearing absolutely nothing underneath the robe.
He didn’t know what to do with his hands, but Taehyung clearly knew what to do with his. Long
fingers fumbling with the top buttons of his button down, lips hot and wet, pressed against
Hyungsik’s neck with uncharacteristic hunger. “Fuck, you smell like bread,” he breathed into his
ear. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
He threw his head back in laughter, momentarily forgetting about his raging boner. “Only you
would find that sexy, babe,” he retorted, hands reaching up to find Taehyung’s shoulder, skirting
across silk and landing on hot skin. More than anything he wanted to flip Taehyung onto his back,
rip the robe off and fuck him senseless into the mattress. But amidst all the madness, somewhere in
the swirls of lust and desire, a small siren was sounding in the back of his head. This wasn’t
normal. He couldn’t remember the last time Taehyung initiated sex, let alone want to partake in it
at all. He didn’t want Taehyung to stop kissing him; not now, not ever, but nevertheless he peeled
Taehyung away from him, the younger staring back at him dazed and confused, lips the prettiest
shade of bitten pink.
“What?” Taehyung mumbled quietly, confidence whittling away. With a tender hand Hyungsik ran
his hand through Taehyung’s hair, pushing stray locks away from his forehead before leaning
forwards and pressing their lips together, slow and soft.
“I missed you today.”
His brows were pinched together in confusion as Hyungsik proceeded to burrow his face into the
crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of strawberry soap.
“What are you talking about. I saw you last night, dummy.”
“I know, but we barely got to talk,” Hyungsik murmured, lips grazing his collarbone. “I’m sorry I
fell asleep so fast. I always fall asleep too fast. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh,” Taehyung nodded, voice lilting with surprise. “What about?”
“How was your day?”
He eased Taehyung off of his lap before throwing the blanket over both of their shoulders, holding
Taehyung close underneath the covers.
“My day?”
“Yeah. Tell me all about it. Why are you in such a mood? Did something good happen?”
“Actually,” Taehyung broke into a grin, traces of confusion replaced with excitement. “Yes, I
wanted to tell you earlier. You know that client I was super stressed over last month? The one
that’s high profile but super difficult?”
“Of course, baby. They made you work such long hours.”
“Well turns out hard work does pay off, because they really liked my designs. Like they want me
to work with them again for a new project.”
“NO WAY.” He reeled Taehyung in for a bone-crushing hug, his larger frame enveloping his
smaller one. “You worked so fucking hard on that project. It’s what you deserve. Congratulations,
babe. And it’s one of your first projects too right?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“I TOLD you you’re gonna kill it. This is just the beginning. They better watch out for you, all
those mean cats. What’s his name, the asshole you work with?”
“Jongsuk.”
“Jongsuk better sleep with one eye open from now on ‘cause you’re COMING for him.”
To which Taehyung broke into a hearty cackle, remembering the string of petty glares he’d
received from Jongsuk earlier in the day. The miserable rat was probably laying in bed with two
eyes open, knowing how worked up he could get over silly things like this.
“Well how about you, hyung,” Taehyung asked, shifting closer to the elder. “How was your day.”
“Better now that you’re here. Not the best day but not the worst, so that’s something, isn’t it?”
He proceeded to divulge the ups and downs of his day, from the headache of one of his store
managers being a no-show, to the new location in Insadong running behind with construction, not
to mention his father nagging him on ways he could manage the business better.
“I’m trying my best, you know?” Hyungsik sighed. “I get it, they have high expectations for me,
but sometimes I wish they’d cut me some slack. I’ve only been at this for a year and…I don’t
know. Honestly sometimes…I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“If there’s anyone who knows what they’re doing it’s you,” Taehyung declared with confidence,
Hyungsik smiling softly as a tightness grew within his chest.
“You think so duckling?”
“I know so.”
I wish I could say the same.
They didn’t progress further than pleasant conversation with little pecks scattered in between.
Eventually Taehyung fell asleep mid-sentence, mouth slightly ajar, robe slipping off of his
shoulder. With great care Hyungsik pulled the covers upwards, tucking the hem of it under his
chin. Switched off the lamp, the room descending into pitch black, Hyungsik gazing upon his
sleeping lover in the dark.
Moonlight seeped through the balcony window, casting a soft glow on Taehyung’s fluffy hair,
round cheeks, forming something of a halo around his head. How beautiful. It was rare, for angels
to make themselves known to man. How lucky Park Hyungsik was to have known Kim Taehyung.
“Hyung,” Taehyung suddenly babbled, caught between reality and dreamland.
“Hmm?” Tears stinging his eyes, vision blurring.
“‘Dyou lock down the venue in Jeju yet?”
“Not yet, my love.”

“Why not?” His voice soft, worn at the edges, barely audible.
“Don’t worry about it. Go to sleep, Taehyung-ah.”
He did. He fell asleep soon after. Hyungsik remained wide awake.
---
June
He had no itinerary, just a one way ticket to Japan and a carry on with a week’s worth of clothes.
“I’ll start off in Tokyo,” Yoongi explained. “Meet up with a couple of friends from university.
Then once I’m tired of it I’ll move onto smaller cities, check out the countryside.” Once he’d
inevitably run out of money he’d turn around and come home. To others it didn’t seem like much
of a plan at all, but for Yoongi’s standards it was perfectly adequate.
The rest of the friend group had already bid their goodbyes, with Seokjin being the only exception
and struggling to find time amidst his hectic schedule, jetting back and forth between Seoul and
Hong Kong, early mornings and dreadfully late nights at the office. “I might not be able to send
you off,” he’d told Yoongi regrettably through KKT. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” To
which Yoongi responded in his typical lackadaisical fashion, “All good.”
But by some miracle on Yoongi’s very last night in Seoul, Seokjin managed to finish his work
early. The moment he powered down his monitor and packed away his shoulder bag he fished out
his phone to send a frantic text to his friend.
Seokjin: This is super last minute but
Seokjin: I think I can meet today
Seokjin: I know it’s your last night but you wanna hang?
Yoongi: Sure. Where you wanna go?
Seokjin: You choose
Yoongi: Ugh too many choices

Seokjin: Just come to the office then
Seokjin: We’ll figure it out as we go
“Saved the best for last,” Seokjin cried the moment he spotted Yoongi approaching his building
from the subway exit. It was mid June, heat baked into the sidewalks and here he was, waddling
towards Seokjin in an oversized long-sleeve and jeans.
“More like crumbs at the bottom of the chip bag,” he retorted without missing a beat, Seokjin
taking it in stride and leading them towards the nearest bus station.
Packing onto a sweaty, musty bus at the peak of evening rush hour, they decided on a newly
opened bar in the heart of Seongsu-dong. “Heard this place was good from a coworker,” Seokjin
mumbled, scrolling through the reviews and nodding with approval.
They disembarked at their designated stop and took an unhurried stroll through the trendy
neighborhood, frequently pausing in their step to admire street murals and art installations, quirky
storefronts and bustling cafes.
The restaurant they’d selected was just as stylish, what once looked to be some sort of warehouse
now transformed into an industrial-chic gastropub. The hostess offered them either indoor or
outdoor seating, the two unanimously settling on the patio, a cozy table perched against the railing
overlooking the pedestrian walkway.
It was a perfect send off for Yoongi; mild weather, an agreeable breeze dancing on their skin, sun
setting behind the buildings and setting the sky ablaze, brilliant pinks and purples that merited a
photograph or two.
“Seoul knows I’m leaving,” Yoongi sighed dramatically. “Putting on a show just for me.”
“Seems like it’s celebrating the fact that you’re leaving.”
“You’re very rude.”
The first order of things, whenever Yoongi and Seokjin convened, was to drink. As soon as they
were seated the pair ordered a pitcher of craft beer and two large bottles of soju, the alcohol
arriving quickly much to their delight. Seokjin had consciously tiptoed around alcohol since The
Incident, but seeing as Yoongi’s departure was indeed a special occasion, he decided it’d be fine to
let his guard down.
“Cheers.”
He knew he was in for quite a night, Yoongi’s eyes practically burning with glee as he slung back
his somaek in one go, followed by a dramatic, drawn out hiss. The evening would likely progress
in such a fashion: beginning with a lot of senseless chatter, back and forth bullshit. Then once
Yoongi would start to “feel it a bit,” loose lips, sentimental rambling. Yoongi in his final form
would either become an unyielding menace or cry himself to sleep. There was no telling which
version Seokjin would get today.
The waiter circled back to fulfill their food orders, a chipotle burger for Yoongi and soy garlic
wings for Seokjin. With a nod of thanks they handed the menus back, Seokjin’s vision obscured
for a moment before the street returned into view. Except there in the middle of the path was
something; someone, rather, that Seokjin swore hadn’t been there a second ago, a familiar figure
walking briskly towards him from the opposite direction.
Before his brain could register the thought don’t make eye contact, they were making eye contact.
“Fuck,” he said out loud, Yoongi tilting his head in confusion and following the line of Seokjin’s
gaze.
“What…”
“Jin!” Jia called out with a cackle. “Of all people, my GOD.”
“Hey you,” he chuckled awkwardly as she sidled up to the railing of the patio, leaning against the
metal with a shit-eating grin. She’d evidently just come from her workplace, dressed head-to-toe in
monochromatic beige with a matching purse to boot. “I didn’t know you played around my part of
town.”
“This is your part of town?” He asked, genuinely unsure.
“My office is a couple blocks up that way.”

“Happy coincidence.” Minus the happy. This was, in fact, his worst nightmare; two worlds
colliding, Yoongi sitting quietly on the side wearing a perplexed expression, eyes darting rapidly
between Seokjin and Jia. “Sorry,” Seokjin shook out of his reverie. “This is Yoongi, an old friend
from high school. And this is Jia, my uh…” He paused mid-sentence, mind drawing a blank as to
how to introduce her.
“Friend!” She finished on his behalf. “We met in university.”
Which wasn’t exactly a lie.
“How fun,” Yoongi smiled. “Are you our year too?”
“Yeap!” She beamed. “Wow, that’s cool that we’re all the same age. We can speak comfortably.
Nice to meet you, Yoongi.”
“Are you headed home?”
“Mhm. Was gonna pick up some dinner from that restaurant over there,” she gestured towards a
salad joint a couple stores down.
“That’s very healthy and responsible of you,” Yoongi nodded in approval.
“But god, this food looks pretty damn good,” she murmured, surveying their neighboring tables
chock full of greasy western pub food.
“Would you like to join us?” Yoongi offered, taking Seokjin by utter surprise.
“Really?” Her eyes widened in delight. “You sure about that? I don’t wanna intrude…”
If Seokjin didn’t say anything he’d look like an asshole. “No, we can totally uh…pull up a chair.
I’ll ask for one. Excuse me, waiter—”
“Well if you insist, then I must.”

“By all means, please.”
Instead of circling around to the steps at the far end of the patio she rolled up her sleeves, then
tossed her purse over the railing into Seokjin’s lap. “Hold this for me, will you?” And then it was
one leg over, then the other, and she’d hopped over to join them on their side, nearby patrons
eyeing her with curiosity but the girl paying them no mind.
How infuriatingly small Seoul could be.
The waiter pulled up an extra chair and took down her order as well, Jia also opting for a burger,
the very same as Yoongi. The three of them got to talking and feasting, the girl keeping up
surprisingly well with their drinking pace, especially given her smaller frame. Night quickly fell
over the city, neon lights blinking on in the dark, a different kind of atmosphere rising, Seoul at its
prime. The camphor trees lining the opposite sidewalk hosted a chorus of cicadas, noisy but
charming in their own right. He felt good.
He’d never drank with Jia before, at least not like this. The girl was already unpredictable by nature
but add half a pitcher and three bottles of soju to the mix and she was absolutely unhinged. All of
the frostiness he’d harbored upon her initial appearance melted into something fond, Seokjin
finding himself enjoying her company immensely, Yoongi too with his classic gummy smile
plastered across his face. The three of them riffed off of each other effortlessly as though they’d
known each other for much longer, Seokjin feeling guilty for ever dreading this moment to begin
with.
“Yah. Why didn’t you introduce us to Jia before,” Yoongi scolded him. “She’s a riot.”
“Precisely,” Seokjin jested.
Another burst of laughter before it simmered down to a pleasant silence, Yoongi swiveling in his
seat to snap a photo of the ritzy night scenery, Jia taking the opportunity to throw back another shot
with a satisfied sigh. Seokjin was feeling it. Swaying a bit in his place, lines wavy, tongue loose.
He glanced at Jia on his left, cheeks flushed blossom pink from the alcohol, then looked to his
right at Yoongi, currently battling an adorable case of the hiccups. Suddenly he found himself
overcome with an intense affection for his friends, and with that the overwhelming urge to air out
the truth.
“Yoongi-yah.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s not just a friend.”
Yoongi’s hiccups came to an immediate stop. “…Who’s not just a friend?”
Realizing he should’ve asked for Jia’s permission first, he nervously turned towards her to gauge
her reaction, the girl shrugging it off with an easygoing chuckle. She didn’t care.
“She’s my fiancé,” he declared with such a solemn disposition that Yoongi nearly spat out his
drink, Jia shaking her head with a hefty eye roll.
“God, why do you have to say it like that.”
Yoongi was losing his mind. “What.”
“God, you say it like it’s the end of the world,” Jia rattled on, ignoring Yoongi’s incredulous stare.
“Like it’s the worst thing that could happen to you. Don’t you think anyone would be lucky to
marry me?” She gave Yoongi’s arm a questioning nudge.
The information was slowly sinking in, Yoongi blinking at her from across the table, mouth still
hanging open with shock. “I’m uh…not into the whole marriage thing but if I was, sure.”
It was enough for Jia to gloat about.
They ordered another bottle of soju, and Seokjin came clean. Told Yoongi about everything, filled
in every gap that his friend had missed out on over their seven years of friendship, precious bits and
pieces that even Jimin and Jungkook didn’t know. Of how he and Jia had been in this arrangement
(to their knowledge) since their first year of university, that it was the reason why neither of them
pursued meaningful romantic endeavors outside of it. He confessed to Yoongi of his drunken
debauchery that cold January night, his regrettable encounter with Taehyung, all of the regrets that
ate away at him since then, the guilt he carried, knowing Jia was resigned to the same fate as him
too. Jia chipped in with her side of the story from time to time, Yoongi absorbing it all like a
sponge and nodding intently.
“Geeeeeeeeeez,” Yoongi drawled once they’d finally finished, letting out a raspy laugh and rolling
his head back. “Rich people problems. But don’t get me wrong. It’s a shit problem. A real
problem.”
“Yeah.”
“So uh…you guys are just…” He pointed sadly between the two. “Just gonna go through with it?”
“Well,” Seokjin turned towards Jia, scrutinizing her. “It doesn’t feel real yet, does it?”
She shook her head in agreement. “No. On most days I don’t think about it. And I don’t think it’ll
hit me until the day I’m trying on wedding dresses and sobbing in my dressing room.”
“Fuck, that’s depressing.”
“Sorry. Just feel like that’s going to happen.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Yoongi murmured softly. “I don’t know why I’m apologizing but I…yeah. I
don’t know what else to say.” He hesitated. “I don’t really know your parents, Jia but…
Seokjin’s…” He didn’t need to elaborate further.
Yoongi looked so sad. Slumped in his chair, hems of his sleeves bunched up within his fists,
corners of his mouth downturned.
“It’s okay,” Seokjin whispered, his mind however screaming in protest. It’s not okay.
“I had no idea about any of this. Feel like a shit friend.”
“Dude, no. Don’t say that. I just never chose to open up about it, that’s on me. Always felt weird
talking about it.”
“Well I’m grateful that you did,” Yoongi straightened himself in his seat, leaning forward with
sincerity. “You don’t speak up very much but when you do, I’m always grateful.”
It was a moment that felt too tender, too vulnerable, too long overdue, Seokjin’s heart pinching
sharply in his chest, a lump forming in his throat. Funny, how he thought Yoongi would be the one
coming undone but he could feel himself teetering on the edge of it. He didn’t want to cry. Crying
was a humiliating ordeal. So trying his very best to hold it together, he asked his friends the
question that’d been eating away at him for a long time.
“Do you think they’d still love me?”
Once again Yoongi found himself at a loss for words, staring determinedly at an oily crumb on the
table, perhaps making his best attempt to string his thoughts together. Jia was looking at Seokjin
with an intensity he wasn’t used to, large tears welling quickly and with no sign of stopping. In all
the years he’d known her he’d never seen her get emotional, let alone shed tears for anything,
anyone.
“I h-honestly don’t know,” she answered in earnest, hand reaching for his on the table and giving
him a squeeze. “All I know is that they should.”
So maybe he could let himself cry a bit in front of Yoongi and Jia. He only hoped that they’d be
too drunk to remember it the next morning.
By the time they’d drained the pub dry it was two o’clock in the morning, the three of them sharing
one single taxi home, piling like sardines into the back row; Yoongi and Seokjin by the window
seats and Jia in the middle passed out on Seokjin’s shoulder, drool dribbling out of the corner of
her mouth. Carefully as to not wake her, he shifted in his place so that she could rest against him
more comfortably. Yoongi sat quietly on her other side, window rolled down just a crack, gaze
fixed on the passing cityscape, sentimental.
“Do you think this is all there is to life?” Seokjin broke the silence, smile playing at his lips.
“Work, eat, sleep, repeat.”
“Seems to be that way,” Yoongi chuckled, wind toying with his tresses. “But with the right people
it’s not so bad, is it?”
He was right. It’d been an ordinary day, and yet he had a feeling he’d remember it forever.
“Seokjin-ah.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t want you to overthink this. Although I know you will and it’s my bad for saying it anyway,
but I’m just telling you what’s on my mind ‘cause I’m worried, and also I’m drunk with no filter so
fuck it.”
“Okay.”
“It’s Taehyung.” Yoongi licked his lips. “I don’t know.”
Seokjin froze at the sound of his name.
“He’s not happy,” Yoongi turned towards him, eyes squinting in the dark. “He made a group chat
for all the groomsmen but he hasn’t said a word. No planning, no greetings, nothing. Jimin’s asked
him what’s going on several times but Taehyung didn’t even open the messages. We’re all having
trouble getting a hold of him. I know he’s busy with work, but I think it’s beyond that. This isn’t
the Taehyung I’ve known since middle school. I know happy Taehyung, and I haven’t seen him in
a while. It’s like…like he’s not excited at all to get married anymore.”
“I mean,” Seokjin’s voice trembled. “It’s a big year for him. Lots of changes. New job, new home,
it’s a lot to…”
“It’s not that. I think he wants you to be there, Jin.”

“It’s better that I don’t get involved.”
“I mean you on the altar. You instead of Hyungsik.”
There it is. Drunk Yoongi. Sooner or later he was bound to show.
“Yoongi,” he began measuredly. “Did you not hear everything I told you back there? After what
happened…he has every right to hate me, you understand?”
“Except he doesn’t. Funny isn’t it, how love works?” Yoongi smiled. “I’ll never understand you
lovesick kids. Again I’m sorry, forgive me for stoking the fire but I’m tired of being correct.
Selfishly I want you to hear these words. Someone needs to say it. The world’s been un-fucking-
fair to the both of you and every time I see you struggling like this I get so frustrated. Like you
deserve better, you know that? The thing is, Jin, I watched the two of you grow up together. Never
told you this but there were many times where I’d walk past the windows of our hallway and see
the two of you running around on the track field, just the two of you, no one else, screaming and
laughing and falling over yourselves and I remember thinking, wow, look at these idiots. The two
happiest idiots I’d ever seen.”
He took a deep breath as the car rolled to a stop at a red light, Seokjin recognizing the surrounding
buildings as the outskirts of Yoongi’s neighborhood.
“Life has been complicated for you,” Yoongi whispered. “But all factors removed, it’s actually
plain and simple. You’re the happiest when you’re together.”
“You have a way of saying really crazy shit when you’re drunk.”
“Crazy but true, right? I know, I know. I’m not proud of it. I’m messy. But all I know is I won’t
regret this in the morning. I meant what I said, every word.”
“Then maybe I’ll forget,” Seokjin laughed.
“I hope you won’t. I hope you remember. That despite all the shit that’s happened, I’m still rooting
for you two.”
The car pulled to the curb outside of Yoongi’s complex, Yoongi popping open his door and coming
around to Seokjin’s side to bid a final goodbye.
“Tell her I said bye,” Yoongi pointed to a sleeping Jia.
“I will,” Seokjin assured over the rolled down window.
“You want anything from Japan?”
“You to bring back a conscience.”
They shared a cackle before waving goodbye and parting ways.
Jia was dropped off next, Seokjin last. When the cab reached the roundabout outside of her
apartment building, he gently shook her awake before helping her out of the vehicle and towards
the front entrance, Seokjin making sure she got through with her keycard, peering through the glass
as she stumbled through the second set of doors. Just before she disappeared entirely from sight she
looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. Beautiful, wonderful, wild smile, Seokjin realizing
then that she deserved someone who could love her fiercely, wholeheartedly.
---
It turns out he wasn’t too drunk to remember. He remembered every word.
His first order of business upon waking the next morning was to send Yoongi a text stating as such,
a couple curses tossed in for good measure, before asking if he’d made it to the airport okay.
Yoongi in turn responded with a slew of pictures of his overpriced terminal breakfast food.
And then he set his phone down to think. Entertained the racing thoughts in his head through a
pounding hangover. Wondered if Yoongi had done more damage than good, or perhaps the other
way around.
He wanted to mend things over in some shape or form, but the thought of taking drastic measures
remained paralyzing. Mulled over the kind of baby steps he could take to right a wrong when he
suddenly remembered; perhaps Kim Taehyung hated him, but Kim Sunyoung, Taehyung’s mother,
likely did not.
He gave himself until the end of the week to make certain he wanted to go through with it before
stopping by the bank and extracting five million won and tucking it neatly into an envelope. It was
a good chunk of money out of his savings account, but after the atrocity his mother put their family
through it felt entirely inadequate. He pocketed the envelope then boarded a homeward bound bus,
Seokjin hopping off at the same station he and Taehyung frequented everyday in high school, the
boy walking until he reached a familiar crossroads. Instead of heading in the direction of home, he
forged down a path once known to him, albeit less traveled.
It was a muggy Sunday afternoon, thick clouds low in the sky, air heavy and damp, the back of
Seokjin’s neck wet with perspiration. He retraced the steps he’d once confidently taken in his
teenage years, eventually standing in front of a door in the shape of an old friend, chipped paint and
brassy door knocker.
His hand shook violently as he lifted it to the knocker, Seokjin grabbing his right hand with his left
in an attempt to steady it. “Breathe,” he commanded himself, taking several deep inhales and
exhales before finally giving the door two firm knocks.
Nearly a minute passed and not a peep from the other side, Seokjin’s burst of confidence waning
with each passing second. Perhaps it was presumptuous of him to think that Taehyung’s mother
would be here; for although she was a stay at home mother, surely she had errands to tend to,
friends to meet up with. A part of him itched terribly to knock one more time, but somehow the
notion verged on impolite. He found himself slowly backtracking, readying himself to leave and
try another day, when suddenly the front door flew open, Mrs. Kim smiling at him warmly from
behind it.
“Seokjin-ah! Sorry, I was in my room so I wasn’t sure if I heard something.” Her voice was just as
he remembered it, like milk and honey, soothing enough to bring his pulse to a normal rate. “What
brings you all the way here darling?”
“Eomeonim,” he bowed politely, genuinely happy to see her again. “Really sorry to come
unannounced like this. I was just in the area today and wanted to drop something off to you.”
“Well sure, what is it?” She asked. “Do you want to come in and sit down? I can make you some
tea.”
“No it’s okay, I have somewhere to be,” he lied, fingers fumbling nervously with a stray thread on
his shirt. “I didn’t want to bother you for too long anyhow. Just that uh…” In one swift motion he
dug the envelope out of his pocket, pressing the thick wad into her palm.
“What is this?” The woman questioned, hesitant.
“I never got to formally congratulate your family on Taehyung’s wedding. So this is a gift from
Seokjung and I.” The last part was a lie; Seokjung had no part in this. But he figured if he tacked on
his brother at the end it provided at least a semblance of a family apology.
He watched the smile fade from her face and felt instant regret, heart at his throat as he considered
whether he’d unknowingly crossed a line. Was it possible, that she already knew everything he
didn’t want her to know, that she only treated him with kindness to save face on his behalf? Of
course it’d be the latter. The woman didn’t have one bad bone in her body; she was the
embodiment of love, even to the most undeserving. With an awkward chuckle he shoved the
money further into her hands.
“Please, eomeonim. We insist,” he maintained a cheerful demeanor.
“Seokjin-ah, I cannot accept this.”
“Yes you can,” he assured her. “This is long overdue.”
“You don’t understand—”
“It’s really not much. Please don’t feel burdened.”
“We really can’t take this,” she shook her head, reaching for his hand so as to return it to his
possession. Typical back and forth. He was used to the charade and expertly dodged her attempt.
“I have to go, I’m in a bit of a rush,” he was walking away, backwards. “Please use the money
towards the wedding or savings, anything.”
“Seokjin-ah, listen— ”
“I’m going now! Bye, eomeonim!”
“Kim Seokjin.”
She’d raised her voice in a way mothers do, Seokjin halting in his tracks, cold sweat, body numb.
Turned in his place to see her slumped against the door in a posture of defeat, face stricken with a
look of alarming pain. Something was wrong. She was showing him. She wanted him to know.
“Come back and listen to me, Seokjin-ah.”
He took slow and careful steps closer until he stood directly across from her, horrified to find
glassy eyes gazing back at him as she gently took hold of his hand and pressed the envelope back
into it.
“The wedding’s off.”
The world was spinning.
“So you see?” She smiled, trying her best to maintain her composure. “I can’t accept your gift,
sweetheart. But thank you, really. Eomeonim appreciates the thought. Truly.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, begging for the right words to say but finding none.
“You sure you don’t want to come in for a little while?” She sniffed, lifting a gentle hand to stroke
the side of his cheek. “I can make you tea. We could both use some, no?” She laughed sadly and
wetly, her rough fingers running along his delicate skin as if wiping away imaginary tears.
She knows.
He stepped inside, door closing with a thud behind him.
Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes
Thanks for your patience as always. :)
Just a heads up, I don't know what their parents' names are in real life, so I'm literally
making up names. Taehyung's mom's name is most likely not Sunyoung haha. This is
a name I borrowed from one of the moms in Reply 1988, great drama, highly
recommend.
Don't really have much to say other than that. Can't express how grateful I am for
every single person keeping up with this story and cheering me on. As you guys can
probably tell writing doesn't come easily to me these days, I rarely feel inspired but
your encouragement does help immensely.
Please do share your thoughts with me in the comments below, I go through every
single one and reply in full. I like having my feedback consolidated on AO3 so I can
easily go back and find it. Don't be shy! Even if it's just "AHHHHH" I'll appreciate the
heck out of it.
Take care until next time.

Part 3
Chapter Notes
Those of you that follow me on Twitter might have heard me refer to this chapter as
“peak angst.” Please know that this is highly subjective, meaning it’s the most painful
part of the story for ME. What resonates with me the most may not necessarily be the
case for you. There’s still quite a bit of angst to come after this chapter too, fair
warning.
So yeah, try to go into this with zero expectations, open mind. Enjoy. <3
Their home was like a time capsule.
Everything was just as he’d left it, although he couldn’t remember the last time he’d visited to
begin with. Was it high school? Had he ever stopped by during university? His eyes did a quick
scan of his surroundings, taking in the familiar warm tones, worn leather sofa and chestnut
cabinetry, dried flowers hanging from the ceiling, the same old china blue porcelain tea set in the
center of the dining room table. “Sit down,” she gestured casually, Seokjin taking tentative steps
towards the table and easing himself into a chair, the wood creaking noisily under his weight.
“What kind of tea do you want?” She asked, rifling through the various tins in her extensive
collection. “We’ve got plum tea, barley tea, green tea….” She paused, turning over a brightly
colored package within her hands. “Ah, we still have your favorite. Chrysanthemum tea. Would
you like some of this?”
He nodded numbly.
She busied herself with the kettle, filling it with water then placing it on the stove and igniting the
burner. Click click click and the fire leapt to life, Seokjin enraptured by the bright blues of the
flame before tearing his eyes away and fixating on the table before him instead. The lines of the
wood were etched deep and sacred, Seokjin absentmindedly tracing the hills and valleys of it with
his fingertips. He’d read somewhere that trees, like people, held memories; that every ring told a
story of an age and a season. How sad and strange, these living things that didn’t know how to let
go, to forget. The memories Seokjin harbored for this place were much too vivid. Of sitting at this
very table and studying English with Taehyung. Of camping out on the living room floor, brawling
over video games with the Kim family siblings. Of lazing about in the comfort of Taehyung’s
room, getting lost in comics and meandering talks, time merely a concept, the two of them above it
all. For a brief moment he lifted his gaze towards the hall leading to Taehyung’s room, a small
shiver shooting up his spine as he did so. It was too close.
“How’ve you been, Seokjin-ah.”
Her warm voice shook him out of his reverie, Seokjin accepting the freshly brewed chrysanthemum
tea and gently cupping the sides, warmth seeping into his skin. She settled into the seat at the head
of the table, diagonal from where Seokjin sat, armed with her own cup and a soft smile. Between
the two of them she’d placed a bowl of green grapes, plump and round. His stomach let out a bit of
a growl but he paid it no mind, wedging his shaking hands between his knees as he proceeded to
divulge details of his life.
They spoke of a myriad of things, catching each other up on their respective milestones. Seokjin
discussed the transition from school to work, the highs and the lows of traveling to Hong Kong.
Mrs. Kim shared extensively on little Eonjin and Jeonggyu, the former having just started high
school, Jeonggyu thoroughly enjoying his first year of university. Not once in their exchange did
either of them mention a certain name.
“These are seedless, by the way,” she piped up, pushing the bowl closer in his direction. “Try one,
they’re delicious.”
With her encouragement he decidedly relented, reaching across the table to grab a couple for taste.
He wondered if she’d noticed it, the way his fingers trembled as he swiped two fat grapes from the
top of the pile. Even if she did, she pretended not to notice.
“Sounds like you’re busy. Are you happy with what you’re doing right now?”
Up until this very moment the conversation had been largely pleasantry, small talk, a dance around
the elephant looming over the room. A pause, as Seokjin chewed contemplatively on the sweet
fruit. And then, followed by an equally sweet smile: “No. Not really.”
“Why is that?”
“Feel like a bit of a fraud sometimes.”
Was that too much?
“Like I’m…how do I explain this…” he continued, this time resorting to nibbling on his lip instead.
“Like I’m living a bit of a lie?”
“Imposter’s syndrome perhaps?” She nodded knowingly. “Everyone can feel that way at some
point, especially in the beginning of our careers. It’s easy to feel small in a big world. You’re doing
fine, believe me.”
“That’s good to know,” he mumbled, skin still crawling, hands squeezing their way back into the
space between his thighs.
“I watched you grow up, Seokjin-ah. All of you. From when you were fifteen until now. How time
flies,” she chuckled fondly. “Some of the boys were quite rowdy, weren’t they? Jungkookie was
always pushing your buttons, that little rascal.”
“Still is.”
“But you were always a bit quieter, weren’t you? Until you started coming over to our house and I
saw you really laughing for the first time. Big bellied laughs. Absolutely silly. Rolling on the
ground, the two of you. I remember thinking ah, what an honor. To see little Seokjinnie smile so
much in our home. My heart would swell” —she motioned with her hands— “Every time I saw you
like that. Even now, that’s what I want for you. To see you smile. To see you living well.”
The two of you. He swallowed thickly, corners of his mouth forcibly ticking upwards. “It’s been
harder these days,” he admitted.
“Things haven’t exactly been easy for you, have they?”
She was looking at him with more kindness than he could handle.
“It could be worse.”
“But you deserve the best.”
She’d replied as such without missing a beat, Seokjin blinking back at her in mild disbelief.
“Really,” she insisted, her hand reaching across the rough wood and wrapping tenderly around his,
giving him a slight squeeze as if to quell the trembling.
He stared into his cup for a long while, steam swirling upwards into his eyes and clouding his
vision. He could feel it coming forth, a well of emotion rising. It was exhausting, to hold it in, to
press it down. He squeezed his eyes shut and he was letting go, he’s letting, he’s letting go.
“When did it happen?”
She didn’t let go of his hand.
“A couple days ago,” she murmured softly. “He hasn’t told anyone yet. You’re the first to know.”
Somewhere in the far corner of the kitchen there was the sound of a clock ticking. Tick, tick, tick,
like the guidance of a metronome. Steady, in a world of otherwise chaos. Being in her presence felt
like much the same. Comforting, despite the heaviness cloaked over the quiet room. Like what a
mother should feel like, a feeling he’d never quite fully known. Suddenly he wanted to stay there
forever, warm and safe. He didn’t want to leave.
“How is he doing,” Seokjin whispered, barely audible.
She hesitated before answering, “He’s having a hard time. But perhaps it’s for the best.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you for asking.”
He lowered his head, unable to look Kim Taehyung’s mother square in the eye. All the while he
could feel it, the tender strokes of her thumb across his knuckles.
“Eomeonim.”
“Mm?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what, darling?”
“That you had to come across me and my family.”
“What are you saying, sweetheart.”
“I know what my mother said,” he kept his head bowed in shame. “I know she hurt you deeply. T-
To be honest…the reason I wanted to come here today…was to say sorry. The coward in me
thought that money would be enough, but now I want to offer my words too. I’m here to say sorry.
It’s the least that you deserve.”
“You coming all the way here to say that to me is more than enough, Seokjin-ah. Thank you. But
this is not your fault. You don’t need to apologize—“
“But the thing is, I do,” he retorted, shaking more violently now, not just his hands but his
shoulders too. “I’m sorry for….for many things.” He wanted to bare it all; rip out his heart and
spread it across the table for her to bear witness. All the broken bits, the ugliness he’d kept hidden.
He didn’t need her to fix it. He simply wanted her to see it.
“I’m…I’m…” His breathing had become shallow, the woman scooting her chair closer to him in
concern, her free hand coming around to his back and rubbing up and down his spine.
“It’s okay,” she assured him unwaveringly. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” But she didn’t prevent
him from speaking as if she too were waiting. “You’re safe here,” she whispered. “This is a safe
space. No fear. Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”
“I’m…mm…I’m s-sorry, Eomeonim. ‘M sorry.” His words ceased to make sense, warbled
together in a blubbery mess. Still she listened with sincere intent, hanging onto as much as she
could.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

A hush fell over the room as he gathered all the courage he had left, pulling it forth like a wave,
Seokjin finally breaking into a sob. “I’m sorry. I love him so much.”
It was out in the open now, no going back. She knows.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated like a broken record, resting his forehead on the edge of the table and
crying openly, knuckles white as he clutched onto her hand, holding on for dear life. The next
thing he knew he could feel arms encircling him and pulling him into an embrace, Mrs. Kim lifting
his head off of the table’s surface so that he wept into her shoulder instead, soaking the fabric of
her shirt as she continued to rub circles into his back.
“Thank you,” she whispered in earnest. “Thank you for being here, Seokjin-ah. Thank you for
sharing that with me. I know it...it must’ve been very hard,” her voice cracked as she spoke. “Don’t
apologize, you hear me? There’s nothing wrong with you.” He only sobbed harder. “There’s
nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with you,” she declared fiercely. “You’re a good son. Don’t let
anyone tell you otherwise. You’ve done so well. I’m so proud of you.”
“Eomma,” he let out with a strangled cry, the word tumbling off of his tongue by mistake. She
made no intention of correcting him.
“I’m here. I’m right here. I see you. You’re a good boy with a good heart. Aigoo, s-silly child,
please don’t cry,” she laughed sadly as he continued to do so, years of buried pain blooming,
pushing to the surface. “My sweet boy. So worthy of love. I’m here. I’m here. I’ve got you.
Breathe, that’s it. It’s okay. I’m going nowhere, I’m right here. Breathe.”
He cried for an embarrassingly long time. Until the tea turned cold and dark clouds rolled over the
sun. When there were no more tears left to shed she fetched him a box of tissues and he sheepishly
drank the rest of his tea. They laughed, and somewhere in the midst of laughing he felt the urge to
cry again, but found himself smiling instead.
---
Just before Seokjin left he managed to snag a pen off of the counter, scribbling “Eonjin and
Jeonggyu’s university funds” on the envelope and tucking it under a stack of mail.
She bid him goodbye at the door, Seokjin lowering himself into a bow but Mrs. Kim pulling him
into a tight embrace instead.
“Look how tall you’ve gotten,” she chuckled as the boy straightened up a bit awkwardly. “I have to
crane my neck to look at you now.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for? You’ve got to stop saying that, I won’t tolerate it. The only thing
you should be sorry for is not visiting your old Eomeonim enough. I won’t be around forever, you
know.”
A sweet laugh, skin around his eyes still puffy and tender. “I will.”
The door closed with a click, and the room fell to silence once more.
She gathered all the empty cups and placed them in the sink, ceramic clinking against metal.
Turned on her heel to retrieve the pot and empty out the leaves when her gaze landed on her eldest
son by the living room entryway, Kim Taehyung peering out from behind a wall, tentative and
unsure. Eye-bags prominent, hair unruly and disheveled.
“Is he gone?”
A soft smile tugged at her lips. “Yes, honey.”
“Okay.” Long exhale, fidgeting hands.
“Were you listening the whole time, my love?”
Taehyung nodded, earning a fond chuckle from his mother.
“Little bear. Did you want some tea too?”

To which he shook his head. “Eomma, did he bring an umbrella?”
She paused in her work, furrowing her brow in thought. “No, I don’t think he did. Why?”
“It’s going to rain,” Taehyung replied with urgency. “The forecast said it’s going to rain.”
“Oh shoot. I don’t think he brought any—”
“Hold on.”
With quick footsteps he disappeared behind the wall, frenzied clanging sounding from his room
until he reappeared in triumph with an umbrella in hand, Taehyung padding over to his mother and
folding it into her hands.
“Hurry, Eomma.”
She flung open the front door, running to the edge of the railing to see Seokjin already down below
in the courtyard, a mere speck in the distance, en route towards the main street off of the complex.
“Seokjin-ah!”
The boy stopped in his tracks to look back at Mrs. Kim.
“Yeah?!”
“It’s going to rain!” She cried, brandishing the umbrella in hand.
“I’m okay!” He insisted, but the older woman was already speed-walking in his direction,
descending the stairwell of her building in her flimsy house slippers.
Seokjin sped into a light jog to meet her halfway. The skies of Seoul had indeed darkened
considerably, ominous clouds twisting and rolling, summer wind damp and heavy with warning.
He came to a halt in front of the woman, a tad breathless but above all else, grateful.
“Take this,” she urged, shoving the umbrella towards him. “No need to return it.”
“I will the next time I see you.”
“Which will be soon, right?” She smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Of course.”
“Alright, alright. Go on. Be safe, dear.”
Sure enough, it rained.
[ ♪ Lesson Zero ]
Within minutes of walking to the bus station the downpour began; one drop, two, then everything
unleashed all at once, the city doused in sheets of grey. The bus shelter was already packed to the
brim with no room for more, Seokjin resorting to standing on the side, under the dripping branches
of a camphor tree. With haste he released the buckle around the tarp and popped it open, a canopy
of yellow bursting forth, mostly intact save for a couple of broken ribs. Given the situation, it was
more than enough.
The next bus would arrive in five minutes. He stood under the refuge of the umbrella, listening to
the calming sounds of rainwater hitting the tarp, watching little beads trickle off the edges and land
somewhere on the ground beneath him. His eyes trailed over the gaudy handle in his grasp, the end
of it shaped into that of a duck with a yellow beak. Must belong to a kid, he mused, thumb running
over the chipping paint, worn wood. And then he felt it, just as a rumble of thunder sounded above
him; the rise and fall of what felt like engravings under his touch, Seokjin lifting his finger to see
three letters carved into the wood: 김태형.
“Taehyung,” he found himself whispering, the rain drowning out his voice as it drenched the world
around him, car headlights blinking on, rivers forming in the gutters, passerbys splashing through
puddles as those without cover ran hurriedly through the storm. He stood there in silence, watched
as the water collected at his feet, his shoulders dry thanks to the yellow umbrella above his head.
---
It was strange to be back. He’d visited often enough when he and Hyungsik were still together, but
actually living at home was an entirely different story. Out of the three siblings, only Eonjin still
occupied her room down the hall. Jeonggyu had moved into the university dorms and would visit
once in a blue moon. But the moment he heard that his older brother had ended his engagement,
Jeonggyu came rushing back to the apartment, the home ballooning to full capacity much to their
parents’ delight.
There were boxes everywhere, Jeonggyu and Taehyung slashing through tape and unloading
miscellaneous items, trinkets and dishware, an endless array of odds and ends. Eonjin was dutifully
sorting through several large pieces of luggage packed with clothing, the girl pausing once in a
while to admire Taehyung’s eccentric collection.
“What the hell, oppa. You’re so trendy. Why can’t jageun oppa be like you.”
The jageun oppa in question let out a scowl. “I’m right here, you wench,” Jeonggyu murmured,
ironically scratching at the leg of his faded sweatpants. It was true, that the brothers could not be
more different, particularly when it came to their sense of style. Jeonggyu perpetually appeared as
if he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Our Jeonggyu-ssi is comfy chic,” Taehyung defended his brother with a smile, Jeonggyu proudly
beaming back.
Their younger sister ignored them, as at the moment she seemed particularly enamored by a cream
colored sweater, standing to her feet across the full-length mirror and lifting the item up to her
torso.
“How come I’ve never seen you wear this?” She twisted about to get every angle. “So pretty.”
He eyed the turtleneck clutched in her hands, Taehyung remembering straight away why it never
quite saw the light of day. It was a piece that Hyungsik had purchased for him on his birthday
during the first year of their relationship. Gorgeous and expensive no doubt, perfect for a cold
winter day, but a bit too prim and stuffy for his taste.
“You like it that much?”

“Mm,” she hummed.
“Keep it.”
“REALLY?”
“YAH. Are you stupid? Stop stealing from him,” Jeonggyu chided. “You’re supposed to be
helping.”
“But he said—”
“This is helping,” Taehyung interjected, nipping the fight in the bud. “I need to get rid of some of
these anyway. Here, you pick out something too.”
“Your clothes are kinda weird, hyung.”
A hand flew to Taehyung’s chest in mock offense, a small scoff escaping from his parted lips,
Jeonggyu retorting with a bratty smirk. His little brother had a point, though. None of the items
currently splayed out in his suitcase matched Jeonggyu’s taste. For a moment Taehyung remained
stumped, until his gaze shifted to the socks on Jeonggyu’s feet, large holes peppering the toes and
the soles.
“Here. Take some socks.”
He was incredibly easy to please. “Okay.”
They spent the next couple hours unpacking, occasionally distracting themselves with easy
conversation or in the case of his siblings, fighting, Taehyung repeatedly throwing himself
between the two to break up the chaos. By midnight a pleasant sleepiness fell over the trio,
Jeonggyu bowing out first with a languid yawn.
“Hyung, don’t touch the rest of these boxes,” he gestured towards the remaining few. “I’ll help
you tomorrow.”
“Thanks kiddo.”
“I have to go back to studying,” Eonjin sighed dramatically once Jeonggyu had left, Taehyung
letting out a chuckle as he ruffled her hair.
“How’s that coming along.”
“Don’t wanna talk about it. I hate high school, I really hate it. This is the worst time of my life.”
It sounded like typical teenage angst, but Taehyung wholeheartedly understood where his little
sister was coming from; high school was indeed brutal. Pinnacle of youth marked by sleeplessness,
tormented by studies, crippled by anxiety. Yet somehow, despite the heaviness of such things, he
thought fondly upon high school as his bygone, golden years. And this, the present moment, felt
more like the worst of times.
Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Never had he envisioned himself sitting on the floor of his
childhood bedroom, surrounded by a hodgepodge of cardboard boxes from the home he’d recently
shared with his now ex-lover. Never had he felt this pathetic, like all of the bones in his body had
withered away to jello, his limbs tired, his mind tired, his heart inexplicably so. Putting on a brave
face for his family proved to be easier than he’d thought, when they as well seemed just as
determined to keep his spirits lifted. But with day slipping into night, with the world falling to a
dreaded hush, he could feel the sadness once again washing over him, pulling him under. Outside
the rain continued to pummel the world, relentless. He wanted to drown in it, crawl under his
covers and sink into the mattress.
“Better days are coming,” he spoke softly, both to her and himself.
It scared him, how quickly his younger siblings had grown. In the blink of an eye Jeonggyu was
skateboarding down the sidewalks of campus, clubbing in Itaewon with his classmates on a
Saturday night (Taehyung would rightly pass away if the two ever crossed paths). Eonjin was
slugging it between school and hagwon, squeezing in the occasional girl dates over coffee on the
weekends. Since when did his baby sister drink coffee? Inconceivable.
With the sweater tucked under her arm she inched closer to Taehyung, nuzzling affectionately into
his shoulder as a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you, oppa,” she sang before dipping out of his room
with a happy giggle, leaving Taehyung alone in a puddle of silence, save for his slow and heavy
breaths and the pit pat of rain.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered, still didn’t have the willpower to do so. Sat on
the hardwood floor with his head propped against his mattress, fingers toying with the stray threads
of the pajamas he’d worn three days in a row. I should move all of these boxes out of the way, he
thought to himself but his body refused to follow through, the simplest of tasks proving to be
daunting beyond execution.
Sleeping in his single bed felt a bit like choking. He was used to rolling around in something more
spacious, feet pressing into that of another in the middle of the night, warmth of skin on skin. His
bedsheets were still as childish as ever, patterns of little bears that seemed to stare back at him in
mocking: Pathetic, Kim Taehyung. You’re fucking pathetic.
A gentle knock on the door followed by the creaking of the hinges snapped him out of his self-
deprecation, Taehyung straightening his posture and composing himself as his mother padded
softly into the room. It was an hour or so past her bedtime, the heavy bags under her eyes evidence
as such. Wordlessly she lowered herself onto the ground so that mother and son sat side by side,
she too leaning her head against the mattress behind her for support.
“Almost done?”
He nodded, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat. Something about his mother’s
presence made him unravel. He didn’t want to. Keep it together.
“How much do you have left?” She asked, meaning how many boxes were left at Hyungsik’s
place.
As soon as the two broke off their engagement, Taehyung began packing his things the very next
day. His exit was swift, his father swooping in to help load as much as they could into the family
car by day two. Hyungsik in his typical selfless fashion had offered to lend a helping hand
throughout the process, which somehow felt like salt on the wound. The remainder of his
possessions sat packed away in the middle of Hyungsik’s living room, waiting. Taehyung could
picture that very room too clearly for comfort; he didn’t think he could ever forget it, the long
shadows cast across its dispassionate landscape, darkness folding into more darkness, never-ending
night.
He wasn’t ready to go back. He didn’t want to go back.

“Not as much. About…half of this,” he gestured towards the mess before them.
“When do you want to pick them up?”
“I uh…” He trailed off, licking the chapped skin of his bottom lip. “I don’t know.”
“That’s alright. Let us know so Appa can clear his schedule, okay?”
He nodded.
Silence, as Taehyung continued to tug on the stray strand of his pajama shirt, almost angry that the
stubborn piece of string refused to come off. As if on cue his mother’s warm hand came to a rest on
his knee, massaging the bone, his troubled heart quieting.
“Eomma.”
“Yes?”
Deep breath, in and out. “When…when he was here earlier...”
He’d wanted to ask all afternoon, questions burning at the forefront of his mind, albeit the timing
never right, at least not until now.
“Mhm?”
“He uh…he said something about…what his mom said?”
He felt his mother’s caressing come to a brief pause, a hardened expression flashing across her
face.
“I didn’t quite understand,” Taehyung pressed on. “What did he mean by that?”
He could practically see it, the gears in her mind turning, deliberating whether or not to tell him.
“The things that she said...do not matter to us,” she finally answered. “And they’re not worth
repeating.”
“But Eomma, I’m an adult now. I can handle it.”
“I know. I’m an adult too. But I can’t.”
In a bit of a shock he lifted his gaze from his lap to meet that of his mother’s, her mouth drawn into
a stern line.
“I don’t know if you realize, Taehyung-ah…whether it’s now, or five years from now, or when
you’ve got kids of your own, God willing when your hair starts turning grey…you will always be
my child, you know that?”
“I know.”
“You may not understand until you have children of your own…but as parents, we look at you and
we can still remember what it feels like to carry you in our arms. You were a chubby little boy. Big
head, rolls like bread.” Taehyung laughed. “I still remember it like it was yesterday, the first time I
held you in the hospital. I can never forget it.”
Not knowing where his mother was headed with her story, Taehyung hung onto every word.
“I remember the first time I held you and thinking…how can I love something, someone I’ve only
known for a few minutes, more than I’ve loved anything my whole life? How can this little person
hold so much power over me? And like every mother in that moment, I made a promise to
myself…that I’d protect him—you—until my last breath.”
She softened into a smile, hand reaching to his hair and carding messy strands out of his eyes. “I
haven’t always been able to protect you, have I?” Her voice sagged with a heaviness that twisted
Taehyung’s heart in sharp pangs. “Sometimes I wonder what I could’ve done differently so you
don’t have to feel this much pain.”
Taehyung shook his head fervently. To him, she was perfect.
“Just because you’ve grown up doesn’t mean I’ll stop upholding that promise,” she whispered. “As
long as I exist in this world you will always be my son.”
He wasn’t going to cry. Squeezed his eyes shut, pressing everything down, down. “Eomma,
why…” His voice came out in a bit of a strangled whine.
“Let me be there for you. I know you think you don’t need me anymore, and in many ways you’re
right…you don’t. You earn your own money now. You know this city better than I ever could.
You can cook so well, you pay your own bills, you take care of your siblings…you take such good
care of them. How did I get so lucky with you? You can wander this world fearlessly without me
holding your hand. I’m so proud of you, son. So proud, really.”
Hot tears were welling in his eyes, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling. More like relief.
“But believe it or not, there will come a time…perhaps one like this, where you might need me
again. If your heart is hurting, Eomma is right here. If you feel lost, don’t be afraid to come home.”
Little rivers flowed from his cheeks as he lowered his head, tears dripping off of his chin and into
his lap. He felt like a kid again. Small and tired and afraid but his mother was his blanket, wrapping
around him, keeping him safe.
“We’ll get through this together, you hear me?” She reached for his hands, intertwining their
fingers together.
With a shaky sigh he leaned down so that his head rested upon her shoulder. She sat quite a bit
shorter than he did, small and narrow shoulders, Taehyung’s neck bent at an awkward angle
because of it. Yet he stayed in that position for a long while, tears running across his nose bridge
and soaking into the fabric of her shirt. He’d needed this more than he’d realized.
“Eomma,” he whispered. “Did he look okay? I could only see the back of his head.”
“He’s good. He’s gotten taller, it seems like. A bit tanner than before too. He looks healthy.”
“That’s good,” he sniffled, awash with relief. “I’m glad.”
“Did you hear him asking how you were doing?”
Taehyung nodded, laughing wetly. “I did. I heard everything.”
“That big baby. He cried so much his eyes were swollen, like a panda.”
“He’s a dummy.”
The rain had kept them company all along, washing away the dirt and muck of yesterday.
“Eomma.” He’d said the word over and over again, the sound of it sweet like honey on his tongue.
“This week…can we invite Jimin’s family over?”
She raised her brow in surprise. “Jiminie’s family? Sure. What for?”
The Kims and the Parks were close, but it’d been a while since they’d shared a proper joint family
dinner.
“Just…it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
---
In truth, he invited the whole family because he couldn’t face Jimin alone.
Throwing the Parks and the Kims in the same room always yielded pandemonium. Jimin’s father
was an unapologetic riot and Taehyung’s father seemed to feed off of his witchy energy. The
mothers were far too accustomed to seeing one another on a regular basis, a certain calm in their
bond as they watched the chaos unfold around them. All of the siblings were in tow, including
Jimin’s younger brother Jihyun, who was smack dab in between Eonjin and Jeonggyu’s age;
second or third year of high school, Taehyung couldn’t recall exactly. Extra chairs had to be
retrieved from other rooms to accommodate the influx of guests, the dinner table incredibly
crowded but in a warm and lovely way. Taehyung watched in amusement as Eonjin eyed Jihyun
shyly from across the table, her usual yapping quieted to an uncharacteristic hush. He and Jimin
had always joked that the two of them could become in-laws one day.
But it’d been a long while since the two of them joked around like that. Taehyung wished he had a
better excuse other than life’s been busy, because he knew that even so, he could always make time
for matters as important as Jimin. Yet instead he’d spent the better half of the past year in chilling
solitude, numb to the world. And now Jimin was sitting directly across from him, dressed sharply
in his office attire, hair still platinum blonde but pushed back to reveal an intimidating swatch of
forehead. The two locked eyes from across the table, Jimin’s gaze piercing, more so than Taehyung
remembered it. His immediate instinct was to slink back in shame, shoulders slumping until he felt
a sudden movement underneath the table, a pair of feet clamping his own from either side,
Taehyung glancing up to catch a sly smirk playing on Jimin’s lips. So Jimin didn’t hate him. That’s
a relief. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a smile.
Not once during the dinner did the Parks mention Taehyung’s upcoming wedding, or lack thereof.
Perhaps his mother had already informed the family in order to avoid any awkward scenarios,
which meant that now Jimin likely knew as well, despite showing no signs of such knowledge.
They partook in the ritual of post-dinner fruit and tea, the kids eventually navigating to the living
room to play video games, the parents remaining at the dinner table to shoot the shit a little longer.
The two older boys approached the back of the living room sofa, leaning against the headrest as
they watched their younger siblings battle it out in Mario Kart, Taehyung providing frenzied
instructions to Jeonggyu and Jimin trying his best to mess up Jihyun’s game.
“Hyung, honestly just shut UP,” Jihyun scowled as he fell prey to Jimin’s distraction, Jimin letting
out a cackle in victory.
Eonjin remained suspiciously silent, perched just behind Jihyun in the corner of the couch, legs
folded coyly underneath her, a dazed expression plastered on her face. The moment Jimin noticed
he broke into conniving giggles, leaning forward to give Eonjin a light smack on the shoulder.
“What?” She inquired, tilting her head up and snapping out of her trance.
“Hey, venus fly trap,” Jimin teased, tapping the bottom of her chin. “Why’s your mouth hanging
open like that.”
“What else could she be doing?” Taehyung chimed in, to Eonjin’s horror as Jihyun swiveled
around to get a good look for himself. “Catching flies, that’s what.”
“You two are literally SO annoying together,” Eonjin huffed as Jimin and Taehyung showed
themselves out of the room, shoulders shaking with laughter. To which Jihyun nodded in solemn
agreement.
They traveled down the dimly lit hallway, Jimin leading the way and Taehyung trailing after him.
Flicked on the light switch, rosy lamplight flooding Taehyung’s bedroom. Since the weekend
Taehyung managed to move all of the empty boxes to the side, even took the time to dissemble
them and flatten the cardboard out against the wall. He still hadn’t gotten the chance to go back to
Hyungsik’s apartment to retrieve the rest of his things. A different beast that he’d deal with later,
when he felt ready.
For now, he simply wanted to rest.
In typical Jimin fashion he plopped himself onto Taehyung’s bed as if it were his own, letting out a
satisfied sigh as he shifted about upon the covers. Hair mussed, tie loosened, lips tinted glossy pink
from the spicy broth he’d consumed at dinner. Jimin was devastatingly handsome without realizing
it, and Taehyung suddenly felt shy in his presence. His best friend was now laying in his bed, one
arm pressed against the wall, the other outstretched along his pillows, daunting yet inviting. Rather
impatiently Jimin cleared his throat before tapping on his own bicep, Taehyung taking it as his cue
to slide into the space next to him, using his arm as a pillow for his head.
He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been so physically close. Jimin’s chin was tilted
towards the ceiling, eyes closed, perhaps food coma kicking in. Scent of orange blossom light, but
undeniably there. Taehyung couldn’t help but keep his eyes wide open, gazing nervously upon his
friend, words sitting at the tip of his tongue.
“Why are you staring at me,” Jimin finally asked, half-lidded.
“I got more handsome, right?”

Without hesitation: “Yeah.”
Jimin turned to him with a puzzled expression.
“Are you okay?”
Taehyung blinked back. “I think so.”
“Hm. I don’t think so. You agreed with me way too quickly just now.”
So Taehyung proceeded to tell him everything.
For the first time since the breakup he poured the entirety of his heart out, every filthy, ugly,
fucked up, depressing detail, Taehyung unable to stop himself as words tumbled forth from him
like an avalanche. Jimin shifted so that the two laid face to face, his expressions changing like the
tide as Taehyung took him through the ebbs and flows of his story. Somewhere in the middle of it,
tears. Fat hot tears from some deep reserve within him; he thought he’d drained himself dry over
the last several days. Every tear that was shed was promptly wiped away.
They seemed to lose track of time, not knowing how much of it had passed until Jimin’s father
opened the door with just a crack, announcing that he and Jimin’s mother would be leaving with
Jihyun.
“We’re gonna go now.”
“Okay,” Jimin called out. “Drive safe.”
The door closed with a click, Taehyung cocking his head in mild confusion. “You’re not going with
them?”
“I didn’t think I was going at all,” Jimin replied matter-of-factly. “Why, you want me to leave?”
“No!” Taehyung replied almost too quickly. “I mean no. You can stay.” Please stay.
So Jimin did.
They used to have sleepovers quite often in middle school and from time to time in high school,
back then the two of them small enough so that they fit comfortably in Taehyung’s twin bed. It was
considerably more difficult to squeeze two fully grown men into the same space, but they were
stubborn enough to make it work. Taehyung found a spare set of pajamas that fit Jimin’s petite
frame nicely, the pair burrowed under the covers, talking and laughing until their eyes drooped with
sleep, until their mouths ran dry.
“What time do you have to wake up?”
“Seven,” Jimin replied. “You?”
“More or less the same.”
“We can wake up together. Take the train together. Like going to school all over again.”
Pangs of nostalgia, warm and tender. He found a small part of himself actually looking forward to
tomorrow.
A pleasant bout of silence as Jimin yawned, cat-like. “Anything else you want to say before I pass
out, Taehyung-ssi?”
To which Taehyung took the bite immediately. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, Jimin taken aback by
the sudden confession.
“For…for shutting you out. For being MIA. You don’t deserve that shit. I won’t do it again. I’m
sorry.”
“If you do it again I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Jimin was warm and terrifying at the same time.
“I’m serious,” Taehyung whined. “You know I love you right?”
“You only love me for my thick ass and you know it.”
He was speaking utter nonsense, which was a telltale sign that Park Jimin was tired, deliriously so.
But Taehyung, somewhat selfishly, wanted to talk more. He could never get tired of it, and he
wondered how he could’ve possibly gone so long without it. With a bashful giggle he inched a bit
closer so that their feet brushed under the blanket, so that he was breathing in citrus and flowers in
full bloom. Jimin shuffled forward to close the gap, pressing their foreheads firmly together.
“You know I love you too right?” Jimin spoke earnestly. “Do you know just how loved you are? I
don’t think you do.”
“I do.”
“You’ve got men bleeding their hearts out for you left and right,” Jimin teased. “Heartbreaker.”
“How come you never did?”
“Did what?”
“Fall for me.”
A hefty scoff as Jimin shoved Taehyung away at the chest, Taehyung breaking into his signature
boxy grin.
“Count your lucky stars I never did, okay?”

“Why do you always say that?”
“Because it’s true, dummy. You have no idea.”
You have no idea. It raised questions, and Taehyung wanted answers.
“Can you tell me more about you though? What’s been going on and everything?”
“There’s too much to fit into one night.”
“But all I did was ramble for the last couple hours.”
“And that’s fine, because tonight you needed it. We’ll have plenty more nights like this to come.
Watch out, ‘cause I’ll come over someday and talk your fucking ear off.” Without warning, he’d
leaned over to take a literal bite out of Taehyung’s earlobe, earning a hiss in return.
“Owww.”
Dawn was breaking, yielding to a new day. Funny how each day never seemed too different from
the last, yet if he looked back on his life from where he now stood, everything had changed. “You
used to be a wild thing,” his father often reminisced. Out of control, fearlessness bordering
recklessness. Taehyung liked to think that he was calmer now; steadfast, thoughtful. A little more
wary but it wasn’t exactly a bad thing. He wondered what kind of person he’d be in five years, ten,
twenty; if he’d be able to recognize himself at all.
He also wondered why some things, despite all else, didn’t change.
“Jimin-ah.”
“Mm?” His friend hummed, so sleepy.
“Is it pathetic of me, to love one person for this long?”

The boy at his side blinked to full wakefulness to respond.
“No, I don’t think it’s pathetic at all.”
“Why not.”
“Isn’t that what everyone wants? To find that one person and to be satisfied with just that.”
A thoughtful hum. “Have you been in love before, Jimin?”
There stretched a long bout of silence before he answered hesitantly. “Maybe. I think so? It’s scary
to admit it.”
It surprised him to hear it, shocked him that he didn’t have a clue as to who it could be.
“I had no idea.”
“But that’s what I’m saying, Tae. You’re brave for loving at all.”
“I can think of many things that are braver than being in love.”
“Than loving someone? I don’t think so. The pain that you’re risking when you do…no one’s ever
prepared for that.”
Gentle morning light was seeping in through the window, trees beyond it swaying in the mid-
summer breeze. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the first birds singing.
Just as gently as the light, Jimin reached forward to touch Taehyung’s chest, index finger tracing a
small heart on where his actual heart murmured under his ribcage. “Does it hurt?” He asked with a
playful lilt, Taehyung knowing full well that his question was genuine.
He nodded. “A lot.”
To which Jimin nuzzled his cheek against Taehyung’s heartbeat, its rhythm steady and slow.
Within mere seconds Jimin fell asleep, Taehyung resting his chin on the top of his head and he too
letting himself go.
---
[ ♪ Sakura ]
“I want you to say it.”
The room was shrouded in inky blue. Blue sinking into black, Taehyung’s mind spinning, vision
blurring, everything a mess, a mess, a nightmare. From his place on the couch he could make out
Hyungsik’s silhouette opposite him in the dark, seated in the center of the other sectional, far away
and out of reach. Part of him wanted to move closer but Taehyung remained frozen in his place,
Hyungsik’s words washing over him ice cold, like the ocean in the winter, cruel and unrelenting.
His own voice trembled as he spoke. “Why are you doing this.”
Hyungsik’s head remained bowed, the elder avoiding eye contact as he wrung his shaking hands
together like a prayer. Who was this person?
“I need you to let me go.”
Every word felt like a punch to the gut, Taehyung swaying under its weight.
“If you want to leave me then just do it,” his voice rose precariously. “Why go through all these
hurdles. Why make me do it.”
“That’s the thing,” Hyungsik looked up from the ground, shallow breaths. He was crying. “I don’t
want to leave you.”
“So then stay,” Taehyung protested fiercely. “I don’t understand why you have to do this. I want
you to stay.”
Hyungsik was weeping so heavily that for a long while no words came out, just broken sobs. He sat
with his elbows propped up on his knees, face buried deep into his hands, tears seeping through
the cracks of his fingers and trickling down his skin. Shoulders shaking violently until he managed
to gather his composure, enough to resurface and take a deep breath before speaking his truth.
“Do you remember,” he began, barely audible. “Our…our first date. We went to that really nice
restaurant overlooking the lake. It was beautiful.” Another deep inhale, exhale as he gripped hold
of his knees to steady his quaking. “Just before dessert you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later I found you crying on the ground inside one of the stalls.”
No moonlight, nothing. Just never-ending night.
“I…I knew you were crying because of him. I knew you’d been hurting for a long time…b-because
of him. And for some reason, it was naive of me, but I was s-so determined to be the one to take
that pain away. I remember promising to myself. That I’d do whatever it takes, no matter how long
I’d h-have to wait for you to come around. Whatever it takes, because you were finally giving me a
chance, and I didn’t want to lose it.”
He paused to catch his breath, words warbled, tears ceaseless. “And I think I’ve done just that,
haven’t I?” He wheezed. “I’ve…I’ve tried everything, Taehyung-ah. I’ve exhausted all options. I’m
exhausted. Hyung is exhausted. When you fall asleep at night I wake up again and it keeps me
awake, t-these questions. I think about all the things I’m…I’m doing wrong. What I’m lacking, why
your…your heart isn’t in it the way mine is. And then I…I realized I’m not lacking anything. I’m
just not him.”
He could feel his own cheeks growing wet with tears, Taehyung’s jaw clenched in defeated silence.
He had nothing to say to refute it.
“Taehyung-ah,” Hyungsik mustered the courage to look him directly in the eyes. “I am not him. I
will never be him. And I need you to see this too.”
“I love you,” he whispered, desperate and unsure. “Isn’t that enough.”

“But the thing is,” the elder let out a laugh. “I will always love you more. Always will. Fuck,
you’re sitting right here in front of me and I can’t stop loving you.” His face was twisted into that
of inexplicable pain, gaze so unabashedly longing that Taehyung whittled away underneath it.
“But that’s not enough for me. I’m realizing it’s not enough for me. A-And it’s not fair for you
either. We both deserve better.”
Taehyung closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, pinched the skin of his palm and wondered if this
was all a terrible nightmare. Wondered if he reopened his eyes he’d be seventeen again, when the
world was much kinder. When the moon was his friend, and the rain was his lover.
“I love you so much,” Taehyung repeated one more time, eyes still sealed shut.
“I know you do,” Hyungsik gasped. “But not in that way.”
Silence.
“But not in the way I love you, Taehyung-ah.”
“…”
“I’m begging you. I don’t want to go. So you’ve got to let me go. Please.”
Eyes open.
“I love you.” The world was still black and blue. Deep breath, air filling his lungs. Breathing out,
letting go. “But not in that way.”
---
Things can change in the pouring rain

From the shadows, see it towering
Half the light can fade away
Face your shadow then you follow it
[00:00]
Chapter End Notes
TW // depression
I didn’t grow up in an environment that acknowledged emotion. Probably why I’m a

bit stunted today. Growing up with such parents…there always seemed to be a bit of a
disconnect, like we could never get on the same page. Much of my childhood was
defined by fear and rage. Sadly I’m sure many of you reading this can relate to my
upbringing. Home was not a safe place.
In 2019 I’d quit my job in January due to severe depression, but I didn’t tell my
parents; I’d lie to them and pretend to go back to work on Mondays, when really I’d
lay around in my apartment all day and frankly wrestle with the will to live.
Sometime in the summer of that year my depression hit an all time peak. I yearned for
comfort, wordless solace but couldn’t find it here; again, home was never a safe space.
Under a burst of impulse I purchased a plane ticket to China four days out. There was
a very specific family that I wanted to see, one that lived in the northernmost tip of the
country…incredibly remote and difficult to reach. No direct flights, which meant I had
to hop off of a plane onto a train into a car to what felt like the edge of the world.
Summertime the sun would set at 6PM and rise at 2AM. Felt as far away as I could
get from reality.
Ironically the relatives living in that city are that of my mom’s little sister’s family. My
aunt has always been the complete opposite of my mom; exceedingly gentle, warm and
tender, ceaselessly understanding. Never raised her voice, always willing to listen. Her
husband, my uncle (again, not by blood) was much of the same; babied me regardless
of my age, made me feel precious, like treasure. I’d never felt that before. Always
believed myself to be a burden.
The entire week that I stayed with them it rained. Nonstop. My trip was defined by
4AM morning walks with my uncle. We’d go to the river and trek through the drizzle,
go up along the dock and chat with the local fishermen. We’d return to the apartment,
mist sticking to our hair, skin. I cannot explain to you how broken I felt during those
days. Oftentimes I’d walk next to him in silent tears. But my aunt and uncle never
judged me for it. Welcomed me into their space with a quiet kind of love that I’ll
never forget.
It’s crazy, how far you’ll go to feel loved like that.
My parents and I are in a better place now. We’re working through the mess and for
once I find myself yearning for home. I haven’t seen them since the start of the
pandemic and yeah. This is why this chapter is peak angst for me. I feel so fucking
lonely. I miss my parents. I miss being cared for. I’m trying to care for myself but it’s
not the same as someone else loving you.
If you feel the same way as me, as I’m sure many of you do in these tough times, I’m
sorry.
Thanks so much for reading. As always leave me a comment here, I prefer everything
consolidated on AO3 as opposed to Twitter. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite. Take care until
next time. <3
Part 3
Chapter Notes
Thanks so much for your patience as always and enjoy. <3
July
Normally he’d swing by the front desk to drop off his keycard with the staff, but that afternoon he
simply rushed past the checkout counter, beelining for the double doors in silent fury. His father
was yapping away on the other line, voice piercing against his eardrum, Seokjin wincing for a
moment as he removed one earbud for relief. His car wouldn’t arrive for another five minutes and
Hong Kong in July was hot enough to cook eggs on the sidewalk, but if he stayed cooped up inside
for one more second he could rightly explode.
Prior to this trip the father son duo had reached a unanimous decision to not budge when it came to
the contract terms, to stand their ground no matter how much the client pushed back. When push
came to shove, Seokjin did as he was told; remained resolute during the meeting, the client clearly
unhappy but willing to consider the proposition. The moment he reported back to his father later
that evening he was met with jarring reproach, Seokjin listening in numb silence as his father
rambled on about flexibility, reading the room, negotiation tactics. “Fix it,” his father had spat
before hanging up with a beep.
As soon as he woke up the following morning he shot the client an apologetic email, conceding to
their requested bid and signing off with the usual bullshit pleasantries. He’d packed his bags in
practiced haste, sent a text to his father advising the deed had been done, only to be met with
another phone call on the elevator ride down; the one currently droning on in his ear, no end in
sight.
Within seconds of standing in the summer heat sweat had soaked through his white button down,
Seokjin fanning out his collar, consciousness dipping in and out, catching only bits and pieces of
his father’s lecture. “We can relocate funds—” A double decker bus rumbled past the hotel, wheels
squeaking in tired protest. “It’s better than losing the client entirely—” Another businessman to his
left answered a call in a foreign tongue, loud and cheerful.
His dentist had told him to stop clenching his jaw, to stop grinding his teeth but he was doing it
again. From his place on the sidewalk he could spot his car, a sleek Lincoln Continental, crawling
towards him from around the corner, Seokjin eager to put a stop to the madness and at least have a
peaceful ride to the airport.
“I’m getting in the car,” he murmured as the driver pulled to a stop at the curb, climbing out of the
driver’s seat to assist Seokjin with his carry on.
“I don’t care. This needs to get pounded into your head—”
“I heard you the first time.”
“Excuse me?”
He raised the partition as soon as he settled into his seat, the driver and the dashboard quickly
disappearing from view. “I always listen to what you say,” Seokjin replied evenly. “Which is how
we got here in the first place. You TOLD me to stand my ground, appa. I don’t know what I have
to do to make you happy anymore.”
It was a risky move to talk back at all, even if it was within perfect reason. He hoped that his
feigned calm would work in his favor, yet the moment he finished his sentence he was met with an
eerie quiet, Seokjin shivering under the weight of it.
“You think you can do this alone, is that it?” His father finally spoke, a terrifying edge to his
words. “Is that what you’re saying? You go a couple trips on your own and you think you know
everything?”
There was no use.
“No, I…” He heaved a muted sigh, burying his face into his palms. A part of him still wanted to
fight back. You’re smothering me. I can’t breathe. Let me breathe. But his father’s disapproval
hung over him like a heavy cloud, anxiety swirling over him in a thick fog until all he could think
about was how to get out of it.
“I appreciate the help,” Seokjin finally relented, knuckles white as he clenched the fabric of his
pants. “I’m sorry for misunderstanding.”
The car rolled slowly through the mid afternoon traffic, the inside of the vehicle chilly thanks to
the aircon, beams of sunlight cutting through the glass and baking his skin warm.
“You still have a lot to learn from me,” his father answered in triumph. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Mm.”
“Are you on your way to the airport?”
“Mm.”
“Have a safe trip.”
He still had another fifteen minutes until he’d arrive at Hong Kong international. Determined to
enjoy the rest of his car ride, he swallowed down the lump in his throat before lowering the
partition with a mechanical hum.
“Sorry,” he mustered a smile. “How are you doing?”
The airport was just as packed as the city itself, travelers reaching a peak as university students
celebrated their first days of vacation. He breezed past security and wandered towards his gate,
making a pit stop at the restroom, then poking around in the souvenir shop to kill time. The
merchandise was more or less the same, with some minor seasonal changes. He’d been rifling
through some newly stocked boxed teas when he felt his phone vibrate against his thigh; once,
twice, then too many times to ignore. A new group chat of six had been created in KKT by Hoseok
of all people, messages pouring in through said group one after the other. He stood in the center of
the little shop, watching in mild horror as slews of message previews bombarded his lock-screen.
Hobi: The wedding’s off!??!?!?!
Hobi: The fuck??

He hardly heard the boarding call for first class as his head began to swim, Seokjin absentmindedly
shuffling out of the store, eyes unable to part from the device in his hand.
Yoongi: I know. Holy shit
Jungkook: Ah fuck. I don’t know what to think.
Namjoon: I was just about to sleep
Namjoon: But then I saw Tae’s message
Hobi: Do you think he’s okay
Jungkook: Doubt it
Yoongi: Have any of you messaged him?
Jungkook: No, not yet. Thinking of what to say
There was one person noticeably missing from the conversation; Park Jimin, who seemed to be
quietly tracking the conversation yet making no notion of chiming in. The other four ping-ponged
back and forth with intensity, opinions flying left and right, faster than Seokjin could hope to keep
up with. It took three pointed excuse me’s for the ticket agent to capture his attention, Seokjin
jerking his head upwards and offering a sheepish sorry as he retrieved his QR code to scan it on the
machine.
He walked down the jetway in a troubled daze, Seokjin eventually exiting out of KKT and
switching his phone to silent mode for his own sanity.
A familiar flight attendant greeted him by name and ushered him towards his seat in first class, a
nice window-side nook, single row. Within a minute of being seated another flight attendant
approached him in manicured professionalism, asking if he’d like a drink before take off.
“Champagne, please,” he requested; to make his return trip to Seoul feel more like a celebration
rather than an ill-fated march. What felt like mere seconds later a fresh glass of Taittinger was
placed on the table before him, Seokjin accepting it in gratitude and taking a much larger gulp than
he could handle, choking up about half of it when his phone blinked awake with an incoming
private message from none other than Jimin.
Jimin: Hey
Jimin: You saw the group chat?
He opened the text and responded immediately.

Seokjin: Yea, I saw
Jimin: Just wanted to talk to you about it
Jimin: When are you back in Seoul?
Talk about what? What could he possibly want to discuss? Seokjin’s heart sank to the pit of his
stomach as his mind jumped to the worst of possibilities.
Seokjin: Actually just boarded the flight back
He paused from his typing to take another swig of champagne, this time making certain to swallow
fully before pressing send and scanning the cabin for a distraction as he waited for Jimin’s
response. He immediately regretted doing so, for the moment he looked up from his phone his gaze
landed upon a passenger across the aisle, and this time he choked on his own spit instead.
Sitting opposite him was none other than Choi Joowon.
Perhaps Joowon wouldn’t have turned in his direction if Seokjin wasn’t hacking away, gasping for
air. But upon hearing the raucous sounds he followed the source until the two were locking eyes,
Seokjin red in the face, eyes wide in disbelief and flooded with a sudden urge to pass away right
then and there. Joowon’s jaw went slack as well, brows arching into his hairline as the two exes
summed each other up, other boarding passengers occasionally obstructing their view.
“Hi,” Joowon mustered, his voice raised over the clamor around them. As soon as he spoke another
head poked out from behind his large frame, another man of a petite, slender stature, dark hair
framing delicate features, cat like and curious, objectively beautiful. Thanks to the glint of the sun
his eyes drew downwards towards their hands, intertwined in Joowon’s lap with matching rings to
boot. Had he actually…
“Hi,” Seokjin offered amicably, gripping the stem of his champagne flute as if his life depended on
it. Seeing Joowon again was…surreal, no other way to describe it. The last time they’d seen one
another was the end of his sophomore year, when he’d dropped off Joowon’s belongings at his
dingy Itaewon apartment. It felt like a lifetime ago, perhaps even to Joowon himself; evidently he’d
moved on, and quite well at that.
“Good seeing you again,” Joowon said, as if speaking to a long lost acquaintance. “What brings
you to Hong Kong?”
“Work. You?”
“Attended our friend’s wedding. Well—his university friends, I’m just tagging along.” He’d
always spoken in a casual manner, but something between then and now had fundamentally
shifted; whereas before he came off as sly and mocking, he was now easy, pleasant, no malice
behind his words. “This is my husband, by the way. Lee Haesoo.”
“Nice to meet you,” Haesoo smiled softly, beaming in Seokjin’s direction. He looked happy. They
both did.
“First time in Hong Kong?” Seokjin asked, unsure as to why he was willingly prolonging the
exchange.
“Yeah, first time for the both of us. What did you think of it, honey?”
“Gorgeous city,” Haesoo nodded. “But hot. Really hot.”
“You came at a tricky time,” Seokjin chuckled. “Summer is no joke here.”
To hear one another they were practically yelling across the double aisles, other first class
passengers in their vicinity unaccustomed to so much commotion and peering over their seats at the
two parties. Suddenly aware of prying eyes, Seokjin found himself simmering to an awkward
silence, Joowon and Haesoo quickly following suit.
“Well it was nice to see you again,” Joowon finally wrapped up the conversation.
“Likewise,” Seokjin mumbled in relief.
They hadn’t even finished boarding economy and he’d already drained his cup dry. Setting his
glass down in shame he returned his attention to his phone once more, reading the messages from
Jimin that he’d missed while talking to Joowon.
Jimin: When are you free to meet?
Seokjin: Next Monday after work?
Jimin: When will you get off
Seokjin: Probably 7-8ish
Jimin: Okay. I’ll try and get out early
Jimin: We’ll figure out the place later
Seokjin: Sounds good
Jimin: I’ll see you then.
Something about Jimin ending his last message with a “period” sent Seokjin down a vortex of
anxiety. Does he hate me? Furthermore, did the universe hate him too? For it’d been one disaster
after another since he’d opened his eyes that morning; the heated lecture from his father to the
bristled encounter with Joowon and now Jimin, best friend Jimin who could possibly want nothing
to do with Seokjin after this. On most days Jimin was bright, mild-mannered, wholly agreeable, but
it was precisely also why he was the scariest when provoked.
He found his gaze drifting back to the couple opposite him, feeling as if he were peering into a
parallel dimension, idyllic and perfect. Sun streaming in through the little window, pool of light
cast upon both Joowon and Haesoo. Haesoo curled up into Joowon’s side, showing his husband
something funny on his phone, Joowon laughing saccharine sweet and planting a kiss to his lover’s
temple.
Everything’s going to be okay. Joowon was a living testament to that. Inhale, exhale. Slow and
steady.
The flight attendants were closing the gate, Seokjin making note of their imminent departure and
fastening the seat belt around his waist. Just before switching his device to airplane mode, one
more message managed to slip in, Seokjin’s heart fluttering at the sight of it.
Jimin: Have a safe flight. Miss you so much. Can’t wait to see you.
---
He missed his air fryer.
The thought occurred to him as he was picking out groceries after work, thinking how nice it
would be to slice up some sweet potatoes and feast on sweet potato fries. It didn’t take long for him
realize that his machine was boxed away and sitting somewhere on Hyungsik’s living room floor.
It’d been weeks since they’d parted ways yet no matter how much time had elapsed, the prospect
of going back to retrieve it still proved to be too daunting. He quickly pushed the thought to the
back of his mind and resumed poking through the pile of veggies.
It was nearly a month after their breakup, a Friday afternoon, office abuzz with the promise of the
weekend when a text nearly sent Taehyung flying out of his seat.
Hyungsik: Sorry to bother you but…I’m having friends over next week
Hyungsik: Was wondering when you’d come around to pick up your things?
Taehyung waited with bated breath as three little dots buoyed up and down along the screen,
Hyungsik taking longer than usual to type out a follow-up message.
Hyungsik: I can drop them off to you if you want.
It was embarrassing, for Hyungsik to even have to suggest this. Taehyung replied immediately.
Taehyung: Sorry. I can come tomorrow.
Hyungsik: I’ll be working during the day, usual hours. You can come whenever. Passcode’s the
same.
Usual hours. Same passcode. For two people that were no longer speaking there lingered a sad
intimacy in Hyungsik’s words.
The next day was Saturday. He’d been looking forward to relaxing at the jjimjilbang with his
father, Taehyung wrought with guilt knowing that this called for a change of plans, that his father
would be subjected to physical labor instead. He tentatively tapped out a message to his father, who
replied pleasantly saying it was not a problem at all, which only made Taehyung feel worse. He
considered the kinds of items that were left in Hyungsik’s living room; some lighter boxes, yes, but
also a couple heftier pieces of furniture too, Taehyung fearing that his father’s back wouldn’t be
able to handle it. Jeonggyu wouldn’t be able to assist this time, as he’d already planned a day trip to
Busan with his university friends. He scrolled warily through his contacts until he came to a
decisive halt at Jeon Jungkook’s name.
Taehyung: Hey hey
Taehyung: Sorry this is so last minute but…I need help moving.
Taehyung: Could use some of your muscle. :) Are you free tomorrow around 3?
It took an hour or so for his friend to respond, but when he did it was with unbridled enthusiasm.
Jungkook: AT YOUR COMMAND SIR!!!!
A laugh bubbled to his chest and escaped from his lips, his desk-mate Jongsuk glancing up from
his monitor in obvious annoyance. Taehyung paid him no mind and thanked Jungkook for his
services.
Come Saturday afternoon, Taehyung helped his father clear out the back of the mini van before
they hopped into the front seats and drove to Hongdae to pick Jungkook up from his apartment.
Upon their arrival Jungkook came bounding out of his building sporting red basketball shorts and a
black T-shirt, fluffy hair bouncing with every step.
“Why hello, hello!” He greeted the two loudly, smile stretching from ear to ear.
“If it isn’t our little Jungkookie,” Mr. Kim cooed, crow’s feet blooming at the corners of his eyes.
“How’ve you been kiddo?”
“Better now that you’re here. I missed you, abeonim.”
Taehyung’s dad loved Jungkook. Every parent did. He wielded a strange power over them, a sort of
lackadaisical yet earnest charm that oddly enough put them at ease.
“Did you miss me too?” Jungkook pressed Taehyung’s father as he peeled away from the curb and
back onto the road.
“Eh.”
“Say, can I plug my phone into your car?” He’d already hopped onto the next topic, making grabby
hands at the AUX cable. “I wanna play some of my music. Taehyungie Appa, I think you’re gonna
like it.”
“Is it what I think it is—” And before Mr. Kim could finish his sentence, the unmistakable rhythm
of trot music began blaring through the sound system, Taehyung cringing at the noise but Jungkook
and his father instantaneously riled up at So Chan Whee’s high notes in “Tears.”
They only quieted down when their vehicle pulled into the garage of Hyungsik’s apartment
complex, the air suddenly shifting to solemn as Taehyung’s father parked the van so that the back
was conveniently angled towards the elevator. The three of them ambled out of the car, footsteps
echoing against concrete as they made their inevitable ascent to his unit.
The apartment was just as Taehyung had left it, no visible changes as far as he could tell. A
formidable pile sat waiting for him in the living room, more guilt flooding through him as he
realized that for the last month Hyungsik hadn’t been able to watch television, hadn’t been able to
lounge about in the comfort of his own home. The rest of the apartment remained spotless, dishes
lined up like little soldiers in the drying rack, shoes stacked in a neat row against the entryway. All
of it screaming I’m doing well, doin’t worry about me.
“Shall we?” Jungkook broke the silence, striding towards the pile with gusto and beelining for one
of the side tables.
“Oh, Jungkook, no. That’s…that’s Hyungsik’s. That belongs in the living room.”
“Oh,” Jungkook straightened up quickly, running a hand through his messy locks. “Then what do
you want me to bring down?”
“That chair,” Taehyung pointed towards a tufted chaise. “Here, let’s do it together—”
“I got it,” Jungkook interjected, already lifting the bulky piece with a grunt and waddling towards
the door.
“Yah, you punk. Let me help—”
But the boy had already weaseled his way out of the doorframe, shuffling down the hallway en
route to the elevator.
His father turned to him in amusement. “You certainly picked the right friend for the job.”
With the three of them working in tandem the task was completed in just under an hour, a fairly
painless process, the brunt of the work shouldered by Jungkook. He surveyed the empty space
after Jungkook had whisked away the last box, Taehyung finding himself frozen by the doorway,
unable to move from his spot.
“Want to meet us downstairs?” His father asked, knowing his son probably wanted some alone
time to bid goodbye to the place.
“Yeah. I’ll meet you guys there.”
The last time he moved out of an apartment he took several pictures to commemorate the occasion.
He never looked back on those photographs, but it was nice to know they were somewhere in his
collection. This time around he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His gaze lingered upon the spaces
he used to occupy; the couch he often napped on, the breakfasts they shared at the dining room
table, the air plants hanging from the balcony frame.
Everything was organized meticulously to Hyungsik’s liking. He’d always had his life together,
being as capable as he was. Which meant that even when Taehyung felt that his was falling apart,
at least one of them wasn’t.
At least that’s what Taehyung used to think. He couldn’t be so sure anymore.
Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved from it a small ring box, fingers caressing the black velvet
before prying the lid open one more time, eyeing his old engagement ring wedged into the center
slot. Perhaps it was best that he didn’t commit it to memory. He closed it once more with a
resounding snap, then fished out the remainder of the contents in his possession; the apartment and
mailbox keys, and a written note folded into neat squares. He laid all three items down on the
dining room table, taking a deep breath in, then out before turning on his heel and closing the door
behind him with a final click.’
He’d thought long and hard about what to write in the note. Variations of sorry, of shame and guilt,
until he finally settled on two simple words: thank you. Nothing less, nothing more. Somehow it
conveyed everything he wanted to say.
---
He didn’t look back as the van exited the garage, markedly heavier than when they’d first entered
it. They pulled out of the complex gates and onto the main road, trot once again pounding through
the speakers, Taehyung allowing the chaotic music to take him into a different headspace.
Jungkook was thrashing about wildly in the backseat, the car’s interior shaking from his frenzied
movements.
“Jungkook-ah. My brother’s gonna help us unload tonight so you don’t need to stay around for
that.”
“Are you sure? I’m free though.”
“Yeah, but you’ve already helped enough. Wanna get dinner instead? My treat.”
“REALLY?!” Both Jungkook and Taehyung’s father exclaimed in unison. At times the two of
them bore eerie similarities. Taehyung let out an awkward chuckle.
“Yeah, really. On me. Just pick a place.”
They ultimately settled on a Korean BBQ joint not far from Taehyung’s home, the owner of the
restaurant greeting Mr. Kim with familiarity. “Welcome back, professor.”
Taehyung’s father was not a professor. On one occasion he’d worn wire-rimmed glasses and faintly
resembled one, the restaurant owner decidedly bestowing the nickname upon him, and the
nickname somehow withstanding the test of time, years of it.
The air inside the establishment was savory and hot, steam and smoke rising, everything hazy.
Jungkook ordered with no inhibitions, firing off an array of meats to the bewildered waiter.
“Would you guys drink with me?” He paused to take a breath, looking up from the menu.
“I’m driving, son. I can’t.”
“You?” Jungkook pointed at Taehyung.
“I…” He trailed off. Alcohol never quite agreed with his system. One and done, his friends at
university had called him. But here in good and trusted company, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let
loose just a little, Taehyung eventually nodding in relent. “Not too much though. Don’t go
overboard.”
Jungkook did in fact go overboard anyway, ordering four large bottles of Hite, Taehyung
struggling to finish one glass while Jungkook demolished the rest. Endless meat arrived at the grill,
Mr. Kim in charge of flipping and distributing until all three of them were too stuffed to move.
It was a pleasant meal. Easy conversation, nothing pointed or hurried. Meandering topics and full
bellied laughs. Taehyung had missed this, terribly so. As if the universe had gifted him back a
fraction of his youth, for a moment the woes of adulthood ceasing to exist.
By the time the trio piled back into the car, Jungkook had devolved into a drunken mess. Lolling to
the side, speech slurred and incoherent. Stifling a laugh, Taehyung helped to ease his friend into
the backseat of the van, Jungkook flopping his head against one of the many boxes jam-packed
beside him. Taehyung was only slightly buzzed from his one drink, nevertheless his movements
slow as he punched in Jungkook’s address into the GPS.
With Jungkook fast asleep, the ride to Hongdae was spent in peaceful silence. No music, just the
hum of the vehicle moving across pavement, the clicking of blinkers with every turn. It was
supposed to be a scary day, a daunting day, but instead he felt his worries blanketed by a sense of
peace. He glanced at his father beside him, sporting a neutral expression as he focused on the road,
face marked with rivers of wrinkles and deep smile lines. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming urge to
reach across the center console and wrap his father up in a hug.
“Appa. Did mom tell you what happened with Jin?”
“Hmm?”
“He came over a couple of weeks ago.”

“Ah yeah, I know,” he nodded, followed by a chuckle. “Did you know he left money?”
Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, I didn’t.”
“Five million won, if I remember correctly. Your mother found it in a stack of bills. Apparently he
left it for Eonjin and Jeonggyu’s school funds. Pabo, isn’t he?”
He wanted to blame the alcohol for the wave of emotion surging within him, but he knew he
wasn’t that tipsy.
“Pabo indeed.”
“We’re holding onto the money. When we see him again we’ll give it back to him.”
“Sounds good.”
A brief pause.
“Dad, if you…if you need help with Jeonggyu and Eonjin’s school fees you know I can chip in,
right?”
His father turned to him, beaming. “Now you’re a pabo too. We’re fine, Taehyung-ah. I can
manage. But thank you. Thank you, my sweet son.”
They drove further into the night, darkness enveloping the city.
“It makes me sad,” he whispered. “Really sad that he always thinks he owes this world something.”
He picked absentmindedly at the skin around his fingernails, only stopping when he realized he
might draw blood.
That afternoon, on that Sunday when it had rained, he’d watched Seokjin from behind a wall and
saw the way his shoulders shook with every breath, as if it were difficult to do so. It took every bit
of restraint for Taehyung to remain hidden, to not fling himself into the dining room and plant
himself on Seokjin’s other side.
He wanted to see Seokjin again. As if he were sick and Seokjin was his drug. But as far as he knew
nothing had changed, Seokjin still full-stop at a dead end. What would they even say if they were
to meet? If Seokjin so much as offered a smile Taehyung knew he would cave, knees buckling. He
was embarrassingly weak. Perhaps standing at a distance would be safe, enough space between
them so that all Taehyung could do is look.
If he could just look at him. That much would be enough.
“Taehyung-ah, can appa tell you a secret?”
Before saying yes he snuck a furtive glance over his shoulder at a presumably sleeping Jungkook,
eyes blowing wide in shock when he realized the boy was staring right back at him, clearly awake
and listening intently. They made awkward, fleeting eye contact before Taehyung turned back to
the dashboard, chewing on his lip but ultimately deciding it was fine; it was Jungkook.
“Sure.”
A small hiss, as if it pained him to say it. “You know, I never really liked Jin’s mom.”
“Oh.”
“His dad is fine. A bit boring, kind of square, but we get along okay. His mom was nice at first,
quite generous to us actually, but she had this…this way of occupying an entire room when she
walked into it. Not in a good way. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway. Over the years it only got worse, and your mom could feel it too, the shift in their
friendship but she didn’t want to give up so easily. I never said anything to your mom because I
just…didn’t want to meddle. And I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Seokjin.” A
pause. “I almost wished I’d said something.”
“Why?”
“Because the longer they dragged it out, the more it hurt her in the end. The betrayal is more
bitter.”
“Appa. Is it because of me? It’s because of me, isn’t it? That they’re no longer talking?”
He didn’t miss the way his father gripped the steering wheel a fraction tighter, muscles in his jaw
clenching too.
“Not because of you,” he replied sternly. “Because of her ignorance.”
The car slowed to a crawl as it entered the narrow streets of Hongdae, passing darkened yet
familiar storefronts, quiet cafes and sleepy boutiques.
“We may not be on speaking terms with his parents anymore, but we still love Seokjin very much,”
his father whispered. “I want you to know that. Wish we could make a proper home for him.”
They rolled to a stop at the foot of Jungkook’s building, Mr. Kim cutting the engine and turning in
his seat to wake the sleeping boy.
“Jungkook-ah. We’re here.”
He pretended to stir from his slumber, even feigning grogginess, rubbing his eyes with the back of
his hand for effect. “Thanks abeonim,” he slurred, sharing a knowing look with Taehyung before
sliding out of the car and into the night.
---
Jimin: Did you figure out where you wanna go?
Seokjin: No. You hungry?
Jimin: I usually pack dinner

Seokjin: In a lunchbox? Cute :)
Jimin: I know I am thank you
Jimin: Drinks then?
Seokjin: Yahhhhhhhhh I’m trying to cut back on alcohol
Jimin: You say this every time I don’t believe you
Seokjin: I’m srs this time >:(
Jimin: Oh.
Jimin: I know where we can go
Seokjin: ???
---
The gates had seemed much taller in his memory. Standing in front of them now in his button
down and slacks, its iron frames appeared almost modest, rusted metal and peeling paint.
He remembered the dread that befell him every time he walked past them towards the school
grounds, misty mornings, fields lined with dew, the way the early sun would refract off of the
grass and make everything sparkle in the light, mockingly so. He remembered being swallowed up
in a sea of equally sullen boys, drifting in from every direction and filing diligently towards the
building’s entrance. On most mornings he had a quiet presence by his side, sleepy and warm, lids
heavy, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. There were times he’d reflect on these moments
with Taehyung and realize he’d taken it all for granted.
If he could get a little bit of that time back; he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Now it was Jimin by his side, his friend similarly dressed in office attire, a black tie loosened
around his neck, the end of it tossed over his shoulder in cool nonchalance. Seokjin by comparison
dressed a tad more casual, unassuming black pants with a light blue dress shirt (sans tie) tucked
into it, sleeves of said shirt rolled up just beneath his elbows. The heat was sweltering that day. He
reached up to his collar and undid the first three buttons, relishing in the way the evening breeze
skirted across his sweat-soaked skin.
The two of them ambled past the gate with their hands in their pockets as if they belonged there,
the security ahjussi nodding in Jimin’s direction and greeting him warmly.
“Class president,” the ahjussi broke into a grin and a salute.
“Big boss,” Jimin answered with a salute of equal fervor.
A pause, as the man’s eyes drifted to the boy at Jimin’s side, a face strikingly familiar, the name
difficult to place.
Their shoes scraped against the weathered asphalt as they strolled past congested bike racks under
shaded camphor trees, Seokjin’s fingers tracing along the chain link fence guarding the dusty track
field until asphalt gave way to grass, the two stepping onto the edge of the soccer field and
traversing towards the center of it.
The school grounds were completely deserted, students stuffed inside their muggy classrooms,
evening study session presumably in full swing. It was right around the last week of the semester,
exams likely looming over their tired heads. It felt good, to acknowledge that such days were long
behind him. With a contented sigh they lowered themselves onto the ground, grass cold to the
touch and perfectly refreshing. Up above the clouds had spun together a cotton candy sky, vanilla
white rolling across an azure blue, bleeding into hints of pink and purple. Summer days were long.
The sun wouldn’t set for another hour.
He laid in the grass, kept his gaze fixed on a growing airplane contrail as Jimin unbuckled his
shoulder bag, retrieving from it two bottles of tea he’d purchased at the convenience store before
meeting him here. A slightly sweet green tea for Seokjin and a barley tea for himself. A pleasant
crack as Jimin twisted the cap open, taking a hearty swig and sighing in satisfaction.
“Feels so weird to be back,” Seokjin murmured, folding his arms beneath his head. “What made
you want to come here again?”
“I come here a lot, actually.”
“What? When’s the last time you were here?”
“Last week I think.”

“‘Scuse me?” Seokjin shot up into a sitting position.
“With Jungkook.”
“WITHOUT ME?”
“LISTEN. This is the perfect halfway point between his office and mine. You work so far away,
don’t even—”
“I’d still come if I got the invite,” Seokjin huffed, twisting his own cap open forcefully. “And I
started this whole thing anyway.”
“You punk, it didn’t even occur to you to come back here until I suggested it,” Jimin scowled,
giving Seokjin’s leg a resounding smack. “I’ll invite you next time, happy?”
“Actually, my office is too far.”
“See?”
A pleasant silence followed as Seokjin chugged a mouthful of green tea, hint of jasmine lingering
on his tongue.
“When was the last time you were here, Jin?”
“Hm.”
The last time he was here it had been cold, too cold to be outside for as long as he had been. It was
finals week. Or was it? The context was fuzzy around the edges, Seokjin unsure of the exact time
frame, only that he was stressed, incredibly so. Muddled mind and troubled heart, he’d yearned for
the refuge of the soccer field, his skin crawling for it. Usually the other boys would join him
during their study break but that day no one else came, frigid winter fending them off and leaving
Seokjin on his lonesome. Taehyung used to brave the weather and keep Seokjin company
regardless, but by then they were no longer on speaking terms.
That evening he’d laid on the frosted grass, eyes fixed on the starless expanse above. Tried
listening to music but it felt far too noisy. Tried making peace with the silence but somehow that
was loud too.
“Last time?” Seokjin repeated aloud. “Our third year. All seven of us,” he lied.
“That long ago, huh?” Jimin tutted, not catching onto Seokjin’s bluff. “Feels like another lifetime
ago, doesn’t it?”
“Mm.”
They watched the colors shift, shadows growing longer as the sun dipped lower in the horizon.
“Do you ever get sad thinking about what happened to all of us?”
“Like how we used to hang out everyday.”
“Ah.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was naive of me to think that we’d all be best friends for life, but it
certainly felt that way back then,” Seokjin laughed in spite of himself. “And now most of us are in
the same city and we can’t even keep in touch.”
“Oh it’s sad, for sure,” Jimin nodded, yanking out tufts of grass and sprinkling it on Seokjin’s
knees. “Who do you hang out with these days, besides me and Kookie?”
“Aside from you two...” He mused, brushing the bits of grass off of his pants. “I do a lot of one-on-
ones with Yoongi. Dinner, drinks, whatever. He likes that kind of atmosphere. Everyone else…I
don’t really get to see them. Hobi’s too busy with work, Joon’s not even here. You?”
A sheepish chuckle. “Call me desperate, but I still try to keep in touch with everyone.”
“Oh?”
“I made a lot of friends in university, don’t get me wrong,” Jimin began. “Really great people.
Smart, passionate, fun. Got up to a lot of trouble, going out and getting wasted and just…fucking
up and growing up. Something that we kind of missed out on with our little group. All of us were
too busy studying to actually do life together.”
To think of it, it really was a pity.
“But something about that makes me cling onto the past more. Sure, most of us went our separate
ways for university and the distance created gaps that were impossible to fill but it just made me
more determined to try? Take Joon, for example. The time difference sucks and it’s hard to get a
hold of him, but we find a way to make it work. These days we’ve been doing phone calls, usually
during my morning coffee break and right after dinner for him. It’s not an everyday thing. Maybe
once a week just to check in.”
“I see.”
“And with Hobi, I have to try even harder because god, he’s never NOT working.”
“Remember how much hooky he and Jungkook used to play in high school?” Seokjin laughed.
“Oh for sure. I was jealous. They were romantics about it. Remember that time they skipped
Hagwon to have a picnic at Hangang instead?”
Seokjin recalled the memory with a fond shake of the head. Hoseok had brought a checkered picnic
blanket and a little radio from home, and Jungkook had stocked up on an excessive amount of
snacks and ramen for their riverside date.
“Anyway,” Jimin sighed. “I never thought…I mean look at the guy now. He works harder than any
of us and I’d like to think we’re all kind of slaving away these days. Except Yoongi, he’s having a
fucking blast. But yeah, Hobi’s office is pretty far from mine, on the outskirts of the city so it’s a
pain in the ass to meet up with him, but maybe a couple times a month I’ll try and swing by his
place, grab a quick lunch or coffee, even if it’s just half an hour. It’s always worth it, you know.
His laughter recharges me.”
“I do miss his laugh.”
“Yoongi, I don’t see as often as you do. I think Jungkook and I are too much for him sometimes.
He probably lumps the two of us together.”
“He does.”
“Which is unfortunate, because I’m a pretty cool guy on my own. You know this.”
“I do.”
“You should drag him to our place one day as a surprise. We’ll trap him there. Force him to hang
out with us.”
“I’ll try my best. You know how he is. Like wrangling a cat.”
“Let’s make it happen. The second he comes back from Japan. The more the merrier.”
“Is it though?” Seokjin teased. “You and Jungkook are practically on top of each other in that tiny
space.”
“We can squeeze in some more,” Jimin countered quickly, cheeks reddening for whatever reason.
“I like seeing everyone together.”
“Yeah.”
Somewhere in the trees, the cicadas were singing.
“What happened?” Seokjin asked, voice small amongst the clamor. Jimin seemed to catch on
without a need to explain further.
“Hyungsik broke it off.”
They watched as one lone student tiptoed out of the back doors, eyeing Jimin and Seokjin warily
before ducking behind the dumpster to light up a cigarette, trail of smoke rising and marking his
place. Many years had passed yet not much had changed.
“I see,” Seokjin swallowed thickly, before mustering the courage to speak again. “Why?”
One pointed look from Jimin was all it took for Seokjin to understand.
“And look. Before you go blaming yourself, please don’t. It’s more complicated than that. There’s
three players involved, not one.”
“I know.”
“Because if Taehyung didn’t feel the way that he did about you, we wouldn’t be where we are
today.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand over the length of his face in mild frustration. “I don’t
get it. I’ll never understand.”
“I’ll be honest, I don’t either. Don’t think we have to though. Feelings don’t make sense. Love is
an irrational thing.”
“Mm.”
“What’s crazy is…I’ve known Taehyung for what feels like my whole life. And I’ve seen him go
from one guy to another, him just…waking up one morning and liking someone new. I think the
last person he liked before you was me, and then before me it was like…nine or ten different
classmates from our middle school alone? At the time it scared me, because I couldn’t keep track
—”
“Wait, what.”
“Hm?”
“What did you just say?”
“Oh. That I couldn’t keep up with him.”
“No, before that.”
“Nine or ten different guys?”
“PARK JIMIN. Taehyung LIKED you?”
Jimin was now gawking back at him, too.
“WAIT. How do…how do you not know this? Everyone knows this.”
“EVIDENTLY NOT EVERYONE?” Seokjin yelled, mind still grappling with the newest piece of
information.
“My god,” Jimin doubled over in laughter. “Did I not tell you? Oh god, I could’ve sworn I did…”
“WHAT THE FUCK.”
“Hey, CALM.”
“Like HOW? WHEN? WHAT?”

“The very fact this never came up shows how insignificant it is because it was NOTHING, Jin.
Look at me. Look me in the eye and breathe. There you go. Listen. It was like ten million years
ago, I had a glow up in middle school so I can’t blame him, and it was just a little crush, he got over
it SO fast—”
“What else are you hiding from me, Park Jimin.”
“I was his first kiss though.”
No words as Seokjin tackled Jimin to the ground in a vice like grip, the two tumbling about in the
field, green staining their shirts as Jimin struggled against Seokjin’s weight.
“HE ASKED ME TO.”
“SO WHY’D YOU SAY YES?”
“HE WANTED TO PRACTICE.”
“SO WHY’D IT HAVE TO BE YOU?”
“LET GO OF ME SO I CAN EXPLAIN.”
It took a strangled choking sound for Seokjin to let Jimin go, the two of them collapsing onto their
backs in exhaustion, chests heaving. Still a small smirk played at the corners of Jimin’s lips,
Seokjin quickly catching wind of it and glowering at his friend with uncharacteristic intensity.
“You’re scaring me.”
“Just spit it out.”
“So there was a guy in our class, okay? Class president, cool guy. I think Jaebum was his name.
Taehyung was in love with him for a long time. Long time being like three weeks. Wanted to shoot
his shot but he didn’t have any experience. Luckily I had a girlfriend at one point for a week or so,
so I really knew what I was doing. Taehyung asked if I could teach him some tips and tricks to win
Jaebum over. Somewhere in the process he asked me to show him…yeah.” Jimin trailed off,
shivering under Seokjin’s unwavering gaze. “Stop glaring at me,” he whined.
“He asked you to teach him.”
“Yes. He asked me, so it’s not my fault. And at first I said no, absolutely not. But then I thought
about it and it didn’t seem all that bad of an idea. My first kiss was with that girl and it wasn’t the
best. If Taehyung could have his first kiss with someone he trusted, wouldn’t that be kind of nice?
So…” He trailed off once more and broke off into nervous laughter.
“You kissed Kim Taehyung. Before me.”
“That is what first kiss implies, yes.”
He willed the reality of it to sink in, Seokjin running his hands up and down his face as his friend
watched him in amusement, all the while biting back a devilish smile. Finally when it seemed like
the fire had died down Seokjin blinked his eyes open, turning onto his side so that he was facing
Jimin, this time not with a look of disdain but rather, curiosity.
Jimin had kissed Taehyung. Taehyung was as queer as they come and incredibly proud of it. So
what did that make Jimin?
“But you…did you feel anything?” Seokjin stammered.
“Like, did I like him back?”
“Or anything. Even for a moment.”
To which Jimin hummed thoughtfully, playing with a blade of grass between his fingertips.
“Maybe for a second, and then it was gone.”
“Ah.” He wouldn’t pry further. That was a conversation for another day.
“I love him too much as a friend to ruin that.”
Seokjin knew that feeling full well.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed by his mini meltdown. “You were saying. What
happened?”
Jimin too turned onto his side so that they were fully facing one another, the boy pillowing his
head with a folded arm. Seokjin’s expressions shifted as quickly as the weather in monsoon season.
Sun one moment, rain another. Now he looked a little bit like rain; softened and meek, weary and
small. Jimin smiled at his friend kindly.
“Remember the morning after, when you woke up with Jungkook but I was gone?”
He nodded.
“Not sure if you knew but I slept over too. I didn’t get to say hi in the morning because I had to
leave very early. The thing is, I got a call.”
“Oh.”
“It was around 7AM and I’d barely gotten any sleep. I was about to decline it when I looked at the
screen and saw it was Hyungsik. He was calling from home, although he somehow sounded lost,
like he wasn’t sure where he was. He asked if I wanted to meet up for coffee, which was strange of
him, since we’d just seen each other the night before at his place. But I pretended like it was a very
normal thing and agreed to go see him.”
The scent of grass was calming, even the way it prickled against his skin. He allowed himself to be
grounded in that feeling, his heart otherwise hammering wildly against his chest. Hyungsik knew.
All this time, Hyungsik knew.
“We met at a cafe near his place and the moment I sat down across from him he started fidgeting.
You know how Hyungsik is. Usually so calm, collected. I told him I wanted to get some fresh air
and took him on a little walk instead. The whole time we’re walking and talking, shooting the shit.
He seemed to be in a better mood. We ended up in a grocery store a couple blocks away, and
Hyungsik figured he might as well buy some things that he needed.”
Seokjin wondered where Jimin was going with this.
“He’s sorting through the fruit, venting to me about work shit when he suddenly stops and picks up
one apple, one orange in either hand and holds them up. Asked me which one I liked better. I told
him it’s really hard to compare apples to oranges—” Seokjin cackled. “—but if I had to choose,
apples, I suppose. I thought he only wanted my help in picking between the two but the next thing I
know he’s searching in both piles again. Eventually he holds up a different orange and a different
apple. Perfect orange, no blemishes, photoshoot ready and an apple with bruises and scars. He
asked me now, which one would you pick? And right then and there I knew what he meant. You’re
the apple, Jin, and he’s the orange.”
Seokjin furrowed his brow, a petty part of him stinging from the comparison. He really called me
a bad apple.
“So I lied to him, because he was looking at me with such a pitiful expression and I felt bad in the
moment. Told him I’d change my mind and pick the orange instead. Looking back I wonder if it
was wrong of me to tell this kind of white lie. Wonder what would’ve happened if I’d told him the
truth, if he would’ve done something different that day.”
Funny, how something so small could tip such a large scale.
“I think he meant to say more. I think he’d asked to meet with the intention of telling me
everything, but maybe my answer was enough for him to suck up all the doubt and the hurt and to
keep trying. We simply walked back to his apartment, and he didn’t invite me up. Wordlessly we
both understood that we wouldn’t speak of this meeting. I bid him goodbye and he smiled at me
but he looked tired, like he wanted to give up and rest. Somehow he kept going for as long as he
did.”
“It wasn’t until Taehyung and I spoke a couple weeks ago that the full story came out. Part of me
wants you to hear it from him one day, but I don’t know how long that will take and I want you to
have clarity of mind as soon as possible. I’m going to share with you whatever you need to know.
Pinky promise you won’t tell.”
“I don’t know if—”

“And you will hear it from him one day, you idiots WILL figure it out.”
They hooked their pinkies together and tugged downwards in a vow. “Promise.”
“Christmas, couple years ago. Hongdae. You remember?”
Seokjin nodded.
“You crossed paths with the two of them, then both of you went your separate ways. Not sure if
you knew this, but after you left Taehyung seemed shaken. Not long after he went to find you, no?”
“Yes.”
“That was Hyungsik’s idea.”
His head was spinning. “What?”
“It’s weird, right? Why would Hyungsik suggest that?” Jimin asked, as if reading his mind. “I
thought it was strange as well. But there was something about Taehyung’s uneasiness that made
Hyungsik nervous too. As if something was left unresolved between the two of you, and if
Taehyung could just…finally get the closure he needed, that chapter would be permanently sealed
and he could move on with no regrets.”
“Clearly things didn’t pan out that way,” Jimin continued. “It was clear as day when you showed
up to their apartment that night. You were too drunk and Taehyung was too wrapped up in you to
realize that Hyungsik was standing on their bedroom balcony, watching the whole thing. He
couldn’t hear exactly what was being said but he didn’t need to. When Taehyung came back to
their room Hyungsik pretended to be asleep and listened to Taehyung crying until he passed out
from exhaustion. Hyungsik didn’t sleep a wink. That’s why he called me so early the following
morning.”
He told Seokjin of how hard both sides had tried to make it work after that incident. How each of
them put their best foot forward, but it was like inserting a key in the wrong keyhole and twisting
about. Nothing worked. In the end it was Hyungsik who gave up first, despite Taehyung’s
persistence for him to stay.
His body felt heavy, his limbs weighed down like bricks as Jimin’s words washed over him.
“What’re you thinking?”
“I don’t…” He let out a puff of air, running frazzled fingers through his messy hair. “I-I don’t
know what to say to that.”
“Mm.”
“Like I’m so…so fucking confused.”
“About what.”
“Like why. I don’t know. Don’t answer that.”
“Why does Taehyung still love you?”
Seokjin didn’t move, didn’t nod, didn’t make a sound.
“Like I said. Love doesn’t make any sense.”
“When Taehyung and I were first trying things out,” Seokjin began, voice trembling. “When I
visited him that one time in Daegu…we were out one night by the lake and I asked him why he
liked me. He couldn’t come up with a reason. I didn’t tell him then and I’ve never told him since
but his answer scared me, and it’s still unnerving to this day. Why can’t he come up with a
reason?”
“Okay. Can I ask you something then?”

“Sure.”
“Why do you like me?”
Seokjin quirked a brow in response. “Um. Like…as a friend?”
“Yes. Unless you like me more than that.”
“You’re shameless.”
“So tell me why you like me.”
“Okay,” he inhaled sharply, racking his brains for all of the reasons why he adored his friend Park
Jimin, very much so. “You’re uh…your’e really smart. You’re super smart but you never make
other people feel stupid.” He wanted to gag. This was already too much. “You’re also…caring, and
understanding, and patient. Most of the times I don’t need to say anything and you already know
what I need.”
He could feel the heat coloring his cheeks.
“Your laugh is nice. I’d go so far as to say it’s cute, I guess. Whatever. You have tiny hands. Also
pretty cute. I digress. Um. Stop smiling like that or I’m going to stop. Anyway you’ve got a really
great sense of humor no matter how much you deny that. I know you don’t think you’re funny but
you always make me laugh. Or maybe I have a shit sense of humor too.” He stopped himself from
speaking further, realizing that he was rambling an embarrassing amount. To be perfectly frank he
could keep going for a long time, but Jimin was already gloating too much for him to continue.
“Is this just an elaborate ploy for you to receive praise?”
“No, although this has been a thoroughly enjoyable experience,” Jimin cackled. “Let me ask you
this then. If I’m such a wonderful person, then why aren’t you in love with me?”
To which Seokjin floundered upon hearing the question; jaw dropping at the audacity of Park
Jimin. Yet as quickly as his disbelief had flared up, Seokjin found himself simmering to a state of
perplexity. He loved Park Jimin to the moon and back. Why wasn’t he in love with him?
He couldn’t explain it.
“I…I don’t know.”
“Really think.”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin admitted, worried that he’d failed the test somehow.
“Same thing the other way around,” Jimin explained matter-of-factly. “That’s why Taehyung can’t
explain it either. He’s in love with you just because.”
It was as if Seokjin had been sitting in a dark room, and suddenly Jimin had pointed out a window.
“For the longest time whenever Taehyung told me he loved me I didn’t believe it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Back in Jeju, when we…when it first happened. I remember being so caught up in the moment, so
thrilled that I hadn’t been wrong. That the boy I really liked by some miracle liked me back. But
then this ugly thought crept into my mind and I simply couldn’t shake it. This little voice telling me
that it’s just a crush. That he’s lonely, he’s horny, he’s bored, whatever. That he’d get over it. I’d
always known Taehyung was a passionate kid. He had a way of feeling like fireworks, burning
brightly for a moment before fizzling out, then move on to the next interesting thing.”
“When did it hit you that he was for real?”
The kid smoking the cigarette had finished his business, turning on his heel and sneaking back in
through the same double doors.
“Do you remember that one time…was it our freshman…no. Our sophomore year. God, my
memory is shit. When I was dating Joowon. Speaking of the bastard I saw him on the plane…I’ll
tell you about that later. Taehyung and I showed up at your place around Christmastime and we
crashed in your living room?”
“Oh yeah, of course. Neither of you idiots used the couch. Caught you guys cuddling on the floor
in the morning.”
“We—right,” Seokjin cleared his throat. “That night we stayed up really late doing nothing
spectacular. Ate some of your snacks, I think we watched another movie. By the time we went to
bed it was pretty early in the morning. You know that time of day when everyone else is sleeping
and somehow it feels safer, more sacred? I felt vulnerable in that moment and shared with him a lot
of the things on my mind, ugly things that should’ve pushed him away.”
Seokjin took a deep breath, his throat growing tighter as he spoke.
“You know how we both ended up on the floor?” Seokjin laughed wetly. “He heard all those
things and decided he loved me anyway. Crawled off the couch and laid down by my side. Held
me and told me he loved me over and over and over again. It was the last thing I heard before I fell
asleep.”
Jimin didn’t say a word, only nodded in encouragement for Seokjin to keep going.
“Even after I realized he loved me I stayed in that sunken place for a long time, wallowed in self
hatred and turned a blind eye to his goodness. But the more I denied myself of lovely things the
lonelier I became until I felt like I was rotting.”
“On dark days,” Seokjin whispered, looking Jimin square in the eye. “There were times where it
felt like that darkness would take over completely, like it would last forever. It’s people like you
and Taehyung that made me realize I didn’t have to live that way.”
“Humans are really simple creatures, I think,” Jimin giggled, scooting closer. “Like how a plant
needs some soil and sun to live well, you just need to let in a bit of light, too.”
“And I did, because of you,” Seokjin spoke with such a conviction that it made Jimin feel shy.
“That night when it was snowing, and everything was cold and dark…the moment you walked into
my room I felt like I could breathe again.” He smiled as Jimin squirmed under the gravity of his
words, his cheeks flushing blossom pink in low evening light. “I see the way that you love others,
love me. And slowly I’ve found that I want the same thing for myself.”
“You can and you will. In the same way Taehyung and I speak to you, speak to yourself like that
too. No more kicking yourself when you’re down. I mean it.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re already on your way. I see the little things you do, the ways you’re fighting for your life,
whether you’re conscious of it or not. I believe in you so much, Jin. Always have, always will.”
[ ♪ Amazing Day ]
Seokjin stilled, letting Jimin’s affirmations sink in and settle down deep, warm fire on a hearth.
Suddenly the world felt very peaceful. It was the dead of summer. Somewhere in the trees the
cicadas were chirping, ushering in the nighttime. The moon had appeared in the eastern sky, like a
pebble dropped in water, clouds dispersing like ripples around it, dripped in lavender and rose. For
a moment nothing but the sound of the cicadas, of the mild breeze combing through the leaves. The
students would be pouring out of those double doors any minute now. But before the inevitable
chaos there was a quiet he’d never felt before, heart beating slow and steady in his ears, against his
ribcage. He knew what he had to do. For the first time he felt very certain.
“You mean it?” He asked his friend.
“Mm?”
“That you always will?”
“You kidding?” Jimin scowled, shoving Seokjin onto his back and propping his head on his
stomach. “Did I not make it clear enough when my pubescent, stuck-up, class-president-wannabe
self stood up for your dumbass and ended up in detention? I’ve got you then, I’ve got you now.”
It felt too cheesy to reply with “I’ve got you too,” but the words sat at the tip of his tongue, ready
to be spoken. Then again, he’d professed enough cliches in one afternoon to last him a lifetime. He
closed his eyes and could hear it rising like a wave, the chatter of students’ voices as they bubbled
from within the building and spilled out of the doors. Perhaps it was time for them to leave, before
the kids would crowd the pair out of the field that no longer belonged to them. Seokjin wondered
who exactly claimed the turf now, if they were as kind, as good as the friends he had in high
school.
But for just a moment, and as somewhat of an answer, Seokjin shifted his arm so that his hand
rested across Jimin’s chest, Jimin’s own smaller hand reaching up and interlocking their fingers
together.
He was going to be okay. This time he was sure of it.
---
He went home and packed. Didn’t tell anyone about it, didn’t ask for help. He allotted several
hours for the task yet completed it in a fraction of the time.
He reassembled the boxes he’d flattened out from the recesses of his closet. Anything that
belonged to him went in; anything that didn’t, remained.
Quickly he realized how little was his own.
Everything, from the clock on the wall to the pots and pans in the kitchen, from the bedsheets in
his room to the various lamps in the living room, none of it was his, all of it left untouched. At the
very least he removed all his clothes off of their hangers and folded them into suitcases. Tossed
odds and ends into the cardboard boxes; a mug that Jungkook had gifted him for his birthday a
couple years ago, the tacky little Christmas tree Jimin had convinced him to buy. It was the first
time Seokjin took it down since he’d plugged it in.
Two suitcases and three cardboard boxes; it was all he had to his name. He sank into the corner of
his couch and stared at the sad pile by the door.
It wasn’t much. Not much at all. A startling, terrifying realization.
---
Jimin stumbled into a darkened apartment, tripping over Jungkook’s bulky sneakers and cursing
quietly under his breath. Tossing his keys with a clang onto the kitchen counter, he stole a peek at
Baptoong in his new tank (complete with a nightlight and filter), sending kissy faces to the
disinterested fish before reaching for the top of his shirt, unbuttoning it with haste as he made his
way towards the bedroom.
There was a small sliver of light spilling out from underneath the door. Jungkook had probably
procrastinated from work all day and was making up for it at this hour. To his surprise, upon
entering the room with a slight creak, he found a shirtless Jungkook passed out on their bed, laptop
still open by his side, nightstand lamp the only source of light, AC on full blast with a drone-like
hum. Heaving a sigh, he finished undressing from his work clothes and switched into one of
Jungkook’s ridiculously oversized white tees, preferring said item of clothing over any of his own
pajamas. Fishing the remote out of the folds of the blanket, he switched off the aircon and shook
his head at the sleeping boy, chest rising and falling, utterly at peace. Jimin was messy, and
Jungkook scolded him endlessly for it. But Jungkook could be just as careless, exhibit A. How
many times Jimin had warned him he’d catch a cold like this, he’d lost count.
He leaned down gingerly, pushing the laptop to a close and moving it to the nightstand. It was just
as he was turning on his heel towards the bathroom that he heard a throaty groan sound from
behind him, a hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him onto the bed.
“JUNGKOOK,” he gasped, as very quickly he was engulfed in a bone-crushing embrace, Jungkook

ignoring all of his protests and pulling Jimin’s back flush against his own chest.
“Jungkook, I can’t breathe-”
“Good,” he chuckled softly against his ear, eyes still squeezed shut.
“You dummy,” Jimin hissed, trying to maintain a serious tone yet failing miserably. With every
thrash, every attempt to escape Jungkook only held him closer, burying his face into the crook of
Jimin’s neck. “What did I say about leaving the AC on?” Jimin chided. “Especially when you’re
half naked. If you get sick don’t come crying to me.”
“Where were you?” Jungkook questioned instead, although he already knew the answer; picking
up the familiar scent of grass mixed in with Jimin’s orange blossom fragrance. “Did you go to the
field? Without me?”
“Yes. And I’m sweaty. I need to wash up.”
But Jungkook showed no signs of relenting, stubborn as ever. He’d waited all night for Jimin to
come home and patience was not one of his virtues.
“Who’d you go with?”
“Seokjin, you crazy bastard.”
“Unacceptable,” Jungkook growled playfully, lifting a leg and hooking it around Jimin’s, locking
him in place. Jimin couldn’t see his face but he could hear it, a hint of a smile laced in his voice.
“Baby,” Jimin laughed. “At least let me wash my face, okay?”
“Don’t,” his voice suddenly softened into a whine. “Don’t leave.”
Perhaps he’d been spoiled by their time together in university, the luxury of being glued to the hip
24/7. Working life meant that they now spent most of their days apart, and neither of them were
used to the change, Jungkook in particular. He had no interest in maintaining any shred of dignity
in the matter.
But Jimin didn’t give in without a formidable fight. For the next ten minutes he wiggled about in
determination, attempting to find weak-points in his lover’s vice-like grip, giggling every time
Jungkook let out a frustrated moan. By the end of it both of them were heaving from exhaustion,
Jimin finally melting his body into Jungkook’s embrace, molding the two of them into one.
“I hate you,” he whispered, shifting his position so that the two were nose to nose, face to face.
A low chuckle followed by a contented sigh beside the shell of his ear. It was the way Jimin
smelled; like freshly cut grass, like orange fruit and flower, like scuffed knees and pages of old
books, like afternoons in the library, like pancakes in the morning, like nights spent under the
covers and wrapped up in one another, that made their house feel like home. “Love you too,”
Jungkook murmured against Jimin’s lips.
---
Hope has its proof

Your hand in mine, singing
Life has a beautiful, crazy design
And time seemed to say
Forget the world and its weight
And here, I just want to stay
Amazing day.
Chapter End Notes
Are you guys surprised by some of the most recent developments? :D
Aside from Amazing Day by Coldplay, the other song included in this chapter is the
one that JK and Tae's dad dance to in the car: Tears by So Chan Whee. Yes it's trot and
it's hella hype. I recommend watching the live performances, guaranteed wild time.
For the majority of my life, starting from when I learned to type in grade school I
developed a bad habit of 'typing' "I hate [insert my name here]" over and over again on
an imaginary keyboard, whether it be my desk, leg, etc., any tangible surface. It's
something I did on a subconscious level whenever I was nervous or bored. I only
realized I was doing it when one day someone asked me if I was playing piano.
Self-hatred takes a long time to unlearn. I had a best friend in university through my
early/mid twenties who showed me more love than I could handle, and because I
thoroughly hated myself I didn't know how to accept her care. Ultimately I ended up
pushing her away and we are no longer on speaking terms.
I never read the book but I did watch the movie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
Really hated the film but there was one quote that's stuck with me all this time: you
accept the love you think you deserve. It wasn't until recently I realized that life is a bit
meaningless without love, so I must get to a place where I believe I deserve it.
There are parts of us that will never grow up, or will take much longer than the
rest...that inner child whose growth has been stunted by trauma and fear. My therapist
asked me if I would yell at a crying child if they're scared, to which I ofc answered no;
I would comfort them. She then asked me why I wasn't doing the same for my own
inner child, and as silly as it sounds her question fundamentally changed the way I see
myself. Instead of meeting my fear, insecurities, pain points with frustration and
anger, I am learning to be patient, loving, and kind instead.
It's corny but it's true. Everything flows from self love.
Anyway, sorry for the tangent. Thanks for your patience if you've been waiting for this
update, I know it's a little more delayed than usual. Most of you guys know that I'm
embarking on a new chapter in my life and it's keeping me pretty busy. Still can't wrap
my mind around it and yeah, really grateful to finally have a fresh start. I will never
abandon this story; I finished writing it in 2019, I'm just editing each chapter as I go, so
if that's a fear of yours rest assured that I'm very committed to completing this project.
Hopefully I can get the next chapter up a bit sooner.
Please don't be shy and leave your thoughts in the comments below. I do prefer having
everything consolidated on AO3, so if it's possible try to communicate with me here
instead of Twitter haha. :D See y'all next time.
Part 3
Chapter Notes
TW for this chapter:
-Toxic family dynamics

-Verbal abuse
-Homophobia/implied homophobia
-Anxiety
Once again I ask readers to kindly refrain from discussing contents of this chapter
publicly on Twitter, as well as abbreviate/censor the characters' names. Much
appreciated. <3
Another reminder that this is fiction and has no relation to the boys in real life. If
anything the events that transpire most closely reflect mine.
Take care, proceed with caution if need be.
He’d gotten used to life in Busan.
The air was different there thanks to the sea that lay within reach. The pace of the city a little
slower, kinder. His aunt’s unit was about the same size as their modest apartment in Seoul but
somehow managed to feel much more open. The complex sat on the crest of a hill and on most
mornings Seokjung could catch a sunrise over the mountains before rushing off to school. At first
he’d found the Busan satoori peculiar and foreign, difficult to understand. But within several
months not only did he get used to it, he began picking it up himself.
His cousin Changmin was several years older but treated him like a same age friend, roping
Seokjung into his circle of rowdy middle school misfits. It felt cool, to hang out with kids a couple
grades higher than his. This would’ve been an impossibility in Seoul, the people there sharp around
the edges, his classmates often teasing him for his tattered clothes. No one really gave a shit about
what he wore in Busan. Only if he could throw a ball or ride a bike, bonus points if no hands on the
handlebars.
He remembered his last swim in the ocean before he was taken away. It was a sweltering August
day, sometime in the middle of summer break. Their group had just biked to Songjeong beach,
stripping down to their swimsuits on the shore and tumbling headfirst into the cool ocean water.
It was high tide that day. Seokjung remembered the waves being larger than usual but thought
nothing of it, forging forward with the rest of the boys, albeit trailing several meters behind.
Changmin too lingered towards the back of the group, despite being the strongest swimmer in the
pack. He’d never admit it, that he was purposely slowing down to match Seokjung’s pace.
But the sea was unforgiving, Seokjung was stubborn, and the combination of the two led to the
inevitable; panic, as a particularly high wave loomed over his head, Seokjung croaking out a
“HYUNG!” before going completely under.
He was choking on saltwater, nose and lungs stinging. They were so far out that the currents
beneath his feet were ice cold, no ground to anchor himself upon. Suddenly he felt an otherworldly
fear gripping him, apocalyptic doom as his body sank lower and lower beneath the surface. Opened
his eyes for a brief moment, flashes of murky green and dappled sunlight.
And then there was movement, frantic splashes followed by two hands grabbing him by the
armpits and lifting him up, Seokjung breaking the surface with a gasp.
“Seokjung-ah, Seokjung-ah,” he could hear Changmin crying out his name over and over again,
Seokjung responding wordlessly by tightening his grip around his cousin’s neck.
Water gave way to sand, hot like coals against his bare back. He blinked his bleary eyes open to see
a circle of heads surrounding his, the rest of the gang peering at him in concern, eyes widened in an
almost comical way.
“Ma*, what’s gotten into you, kid?”
“You okay?”
“Take it easy, easy does it.”
Without thinking he lifted his hand to rub at his eye, rough sand cascading down his face. Seokjung
winced regrettably upon impact, Changmin hissing before swatting his hand away.
“Stop that. Are you dumb?” He chided as he eased his little cousin into a sitting position. “How do
you feel? You coughed up a lot of water there. You all good now?”
Seokjung nodded meekly.
“We’re gonna head home first,” Changmin informed the group, scooping his and Seokjung’s shirts
from the ground and shaking the sand out of it.
“I’m gonna head home too. Dinnertime anyway.”
“Same.”
“Me too.”
Their swim trunks dried very quickly, thanks to the sun and the wind working in tandem. In about
half an hour they’d pulled into their apartment complex, both of them dismounting from their bikes
to push them uphill. Locked them up on the rack then bounded up the concrete steps of their
building, breathless by the time they’d come to a halt at their door.
Auntie was cooking all of Seokjung’s favorites that day. He should’ve known from the moment he
stepped in and caught a whiff of everything blending together, rabokki and jampong and tonkatsu.
Too good to be true.
They sat down around the table, their little family of four eating to their heart’s content.
Somewhere mid-bite Seokjung looked up from his bowl to see his aunt gazing upon him fondly, a
sad smile on her lips. He looked back at her innocently, tilting his head in question.
She set down her chopsticks before leaning forward to speak.
“Seokjung-ah. Your parents are coming to pick you up this weekend.”
“Oh,” he paused in his chewing. “For the weekend?” It was strange. He hadn’t been to Seoul for a
long time, so much so that he’d forgotten it existed.
“No, darling. You’re going back to Seoul. You’re moving back to Seoul.”
The whole table was quiet now, Changmin too no longer eating, frozen in place, face void of
expression. His uncle was looking down in his lap, avoiding eye contact at all costs, shoulders
heavy. Seokjung remained unmoving in his seat until his metal chopsticks slid out of his grasp and
landed onto the table with a noisy clang. Mustering a brighter smile, his aunt reached across the
table to envelope his hand in her own.
“Isn’t this great, darling? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
In an instant, Seokjung began crying.
He sobbed audibly like a baby and felt a little ashamed because of it. Just when he felt he was on
the verge of growing up, growing into something to be proud of he’d be going back to a place that
he no longer knew, starting from zero. Was his near drowning incident a foreshadowing of what
was to come? Snot and tears and sea-salt mixed together in an unruly mess, the food in his bowl—
once an object of affection—pushed aside, forgotten.
His uncle heaved a sigh, head dropping into his hands. “Honey, why’d you have to tell him over
dinner?”
“I’m sorry,” his aunt cooed as she rose from her seat, circling around the table to pull Seokjung
into an embrace. “I’m sorry, Seokjung-ah. There, there. Don’t cry. You’ll finally get to go home.
Let’s be happy, okay? We’re going to live happily. We’re going to live well.”
No words came out. He was never good with words, not when he first arrived to Busan, and not
when he was leaving it either.
---
Bus rides were a portal into an alternate reality, one where Seokjin could drift in and out of
consciousness, static mind, no thoughts. That evening however he remained resolutely awake, for
the first half of the ride jostled about in the crowded aisle until they passed city center, passengers
thinning out enough so that Seokjin could snag a seat by the back windows. Even then he sat there
rather stiffly, arms folded, eyes fixed on the familiar landscape passing by. Neighboring apartment
complexes encroaching upon him. The old comic book store with its shutters drawn for the night.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen its doors open.
With a light hop he disembarked at his station, shifting his bag so that it nestled securely in the
groove of his shoulder. Inside said bag was a change of work clothes for the next day, pajamas,
some skincare products. The bare minimum for an overnight stay.
He plodded along the sidewalk at an achingly slow pace, past the coffee shop on his right,
storefront darkened and empty. Come to think of it he hadn’t seen the nice barista noona in quite
some time. She probably still worked morning shifts, if she worked there at all. Suddenly he
wished he could see her one more time, lean against the counter and watch her tinker with the
espresso machine, ask her about her day even if her answer was always the same.
“Not bad. How ‘bout you?”
The little park came into view on his left, Seokjin slowing in his step to take in the look of it. That
evening a young mother and her two children were resting on the wooden bench, eating ice cream
bars and watching tiny larks bathing in the fountain.
There was water in the fountain again. Still water, quiet. Good enough for the birds to return. The
moment felt too sacred for Seokjin to intrude, so after a brief pause he peeled his eyes away and
continued onward.
He could see his family’s apartment complex in the near distance, shrouded in long shadows of the
setting sun. Only a sliver of the path he walked upon was lined with gold, the rest of it sinking into
the same shadow. He spotted one of the neighborhood grannies, nameless yet familiar, the older
woman greeting Seokjin with a toothy smile, Seokjin answering with a hastened bow.
His family greeted him with minimal fanfare as he pushed past the front door and into the foyer.
“Ah, Seokjinnie’s here?” His mother called with her back facing him, too busy transferring dishes
from the kitchen to the dining room. His father was parked in his usual seat in the living room,
eyes glued to the TV, only tearing away to offer a nod in acknowledgement of his youngest son.
“Mm,” he murmured in response, surveying the dinner splayed out on the lengthy table.
“How was the trip over here?”
“Bus ride was good.”
“Aigoo. I don’t know why you insist on riding that filthy thing when you could just call a driver.”
Seokjin ignored her latter comment. “I’m gonna put my bag down.”
He dipped out of the common area en route to his bedroom, passing his brother’s door on the way,
firmly closed with the slightest trace of light slipping out from underneath. Stopped at his own door
and eased it open with a creak. The room was just as he’d left it, a relic of sorts. High school
textbooks lining the shelves, clothes two sizes too small collecting dust in his closet. The only
notable difference was the freshly changed sheets, crisp white linen tucked and folded like a hotel
bed. His mother had sounded far too excited when Seokjin told her he’d be sleeping over for the
night. It was the first time in a very, very long time.
When she asked him why, he told her “just because.”
Dinner with his family was painfully ordinary. His mother whipped up two different soups and a
variety of other health conscious foods; evidently both parents were abiding by a strict diet. “We’re
getting old,” his mother explained.
The three men of the household remained largely silent as their mother did most of the talking for
them, the woman in soaring spirits given that everyone was finally home and partaking in a proper
meal together. She chattered endlessly and loaded pieces of meat into Seokjin’s bowl, giving him
the best of the lot and saving the meager portions for herself.
Towards the end of dinner the two parents excused themselves from the table to migrate to the
living room, their mother frantic as she switched on the TV in search of their favorite variety
program that aired every night, 8PM on the dot. The gaudy jingle filled the room as their father
settled into his previous position on the couch, as their mother brought over their cups of tea and a
couple of oranges to share.
The two brothers piled the dirty dishes into the sink, then worked together quietly to wash, rinse,
dry. As soon as they finished Seokjung briskly wiped his hands on a towel, with every intention to
return to his room before Seokjin managed to stop him in his tracks.
“You wanna watch TV with them?” He nodded towards the living room, the sound of their
mother’s laughter ringing high and clear like bells.
“No, not really.”
“Just for a little bit?”
Seokjung eyed Seokjin warily. It was a strange request, very out of character. Perhaps why he
proceeded to give in without probing further.
It was incredibly awkward, so much so that Seokjin almost immediately regretted the proposition.
The two brothers shuffled awkwardly into the living room, Seokjin easing himself into the empty
middle seat, his mother nestled against the armrest to his left, Seokjung awkwardly sitting down to
his right. Their father sat in his own loveseat diagonal from them, the man side-eyeing his sons
before returning his attention to the television, their mother also doing a double-take in the middle
of peeling an orange.
“You want some?” She asked Seokjin, to which he declined. She thought nothing more of it and
continued cackling at the cheesy hosts on the screen.
It was a kind of humor that Seokjin didn’t understand. Likely a generational gap, for the show
boasted a loyal following of viewers his parents’ age. After fifteen minutes of bearing through the
cringe-y content Seokjung couldn’t take it anymore and excused himself to his room. Yet Seokjin
decidedly stayed behind, willing himself to sit through the rest of the hour, his gaze more often
than not trained on his parents instead of the television.
His parents were getting older. He saw his father often enough at the office, but on some days he’d
suddenly show up with his hair freshly dyed, determined to cover any signs of grey. With his
mother the changes were more drastic, jarring. As diligent of a beauty regimen she maintained it
was no match for time and the way it carved itself into her face, crow’s feet and smile lines.
The moment the program came to a close Seokjin snapped out of his trance, his father promptly
rising from his place with a groan, leaving his empty teacup on the coffee table. His mother let out
a satisfied yawn before gathering the peels and cups and heading towards the kitchen once more.
“Did you enjoy the show?” She asked Seokjin tiredly. He nodded. “Have you watched it with us
before?”
He paused to think. “Maybe. Can’t remember.”

There were too many unspoken things that he carried with him, Seokjin eager to unpack it but not
knowing how. He wanted to ask her to go back to the living room, sit down and have a heart to
heart, reminisce about something, anything. Wanted to ask her if she was pleased with the way
things turned out, if this was the life she’d always envisioned for herself. But the words felt far too
heavy, weighed too much so he kept them locked up instead. He resorted to wordless nodding,
looking like a fool, nothing good to offer.
So he tried to make himself useful as she rinsed out the cups and tossed away the peels, the boy
shifting around the items on the drying rack to make room for the cups. It was as he was fiddling
around with the dishes that she turned towards him with a bemused smile. “You’re so clingy today.
You’re being so good. What’s gotten into you?”
He kept his head down, nothing but a nervous chuckle slipping out.
“Mm?” She pried, reaching to the back of his head and patting it affectionately. “You’re worrying
me a bit. Are you tired these days, is that it? Is it because of work?” Her hand shifted to caress his
cheek and he leaned into it on instinct, eyes fluttering to a close.
“Maybe I’m tired, yeah.”
“That dad of yours, aish. Is he being too hard on you? Tell him to take it easy. No need to be so
tough on his own son. You want me to talk to him?”
“It’s okay.”
“I totally can. He’ll listen to me.”
He mustered a smile as she pulled away to clean up the rest of the counter space. But the moment
she turned her back to him he felt a violent panic rising, surging up up up until it boiled over in the
form of a question.
“Do you love me?”
She whipped around in surprise before breaking into a bewildered laugh. “Why are you asking me
such silly things all of a sudden?”
He wanted to clarify how serious he was, how none of it was silly.
“I guess I’m tired,” he lied. Let’s run with that narrative. I’m tired, I’ve lost my mind. Then he
licked his lips and tried again. “Eomma, do you love me?”
“Aigoo, what do you think?” She playfully shoved at his head as she walked past. “I think it’s time
for bed, the both of us. Get some rest, Seokjin-ah.”
She left the kitchen first, leaving Seokjin standing in the middle of it, alone. Almost all of the lights
in the apartment were switched off, save for the hallway light beckoning him to go to bed, too.
Peering into the darkness of his home he no longer felt brave or certain. Perhaps it’d be easier to
hide in the shadows, sink.
He ran through the steps of his nighttime routine on autopilot, all the while trying his best not to
overthink. Showered and changed into pajamas, brushed his teeth, applied his moisturizer. Laid out
his clothes for the next day, freshly ironed. Yet when he crawled under the sheets and switched off
the lights, he found that he couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t shut off his mind.
She never told him if she loved him or not, because she didn’t know how desperately he needed to
hear it. But going back to ask one more time would look hopeless beyond reason. Already there
was a hole in his chest forming. A gaping empty space that kept him up all night, until the sun rose
on the horizon and the room flooded with light once again.
---
He slept for one hour at best before his alarm went off, Seokjin fighting back the same sick feeling
as pulling an all nighter.
Very quickly he changed into his work clothes and tidied up his appearance, all the while the rest
of the apartment stark still, just the sparrows chirping merrily, ushering in a new day. So peaceful,
the way the morning light spilled in through the living room windows. For a moment he lingered in
the vacant room, waiting to see if his mother or father, or even Seokjung would appear to bid him
good morning, but no one came. He hoisted his overnight bag over his shoulder and stepped out of
the apartment with a quiet click.
The entire commute to work felt like a whirlwind, lack of sleep paired with heightened nerves. So
wired he’d become that he nearly missed his stop, Seokjin murmuring frenzied “excuse me”s as he
pushed past other disgruntled passengers, barely managing to slip out of the closing doors.
Up he went on the long escalator, other riders half asleep or burrowed in their phones, Seokjin
transfixed on the natural light slowly giving way as they ascended to street level. It was an out of
body experience. Up above was a blue, cloudless sky. It was almost August, monsoon season in
full swing. But that day the air bore a certain clarity, and it almost felt like autumn.
He skipped his usual morning drink thanks to the nausea churning in his stomach and headed
straight for his building, taking a crowded elevator up to his floor and beelining for his desk. The
usual suspects greeted him along the way. With shaking hands he prompted his computer to wake,
scrolling through his calendar packed with various to-dos and team meetings.
It was going to be a long day.
He replied to emails. Made a couple calls. Attended the meetings, leg jiggling wildly under the
table, upper half perfectly motionless. Answered any questions thrown his way with practiced
finesse. On the inside he was unequivocally crumbling apart.
Nayoung passed by his desk en route to the bathroom sometime mid afternoon, only pausing in her
step upon catching a glimpse of his face.
“God,” she mumbled, backtracking a bit to get a better look. “Hope you don’t take this the wrong
way but you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah. You’ve got crazy bags under your eyes.”
“Mm.”
“Boy, you’re really out of it. Wanna go for a juice break?”
“Okay.”
The two paid a visit to the cafe adjacent to their building, the same one he’d forgone earlier that
morning. In the afternoons the line always whittled down so that there was little to no wait.
Nayoung marched straight up to the counter and placed her order with the cashier. She turned to
Seokjin and asked if he wanted anything, to which he declined with a shake of his head. In typical
Nayoung fashion she asked him one more time for confirmation. “Really, I’m good,” Seokjin
assured her.
She narrowed her eyes at him and paid for her drink, then the duo sidled off to the sparse waiting
area.
“You really don’t look good, kid. I can’t help but worry.”
“I don’t feel good,” he confessed.
“So go home,” she urged. “No use in putting up a front like this. Go home and rest.”
“I’m going to.”
“Okay. Good.”
There lingered a silence longer than usual, Nayoung furrowing her brows and summing up Seokjin
with suspicion. But before she could act on her hunch the barista behind the counter called out her
name, Nayoung stepping forward to accept her drink with a cheerful “thank you.”
The walk from the cafe to the building entrance was about forty seconds if you walked, thirty
seconds if you did a light jog. That day Seokjin wanted to drag his feet, drag the seconds into
minutes into hours into days. Time. He needed more time, and time wasn’t on his side. They’d
already stepped under the shadow of the building awning when Seokjin piped up abruptly: “What
if I’m making a mistake.”
She paused from her sipping to contemplate the question. It was certainly cryptic; no clues, no
context. Nevertheless she didn’t ask him to clarify.
“Like…” Seokjin continued, licking his lips nervously. “What if I regret this.”
“Why are you doubting a decision that you were sure of before?”
He looked up at the sky, the sun a hot white disc baking heat into the pavement.
“I’m scared,” he admitted. “I’m scared, that’s all it is.”
“And that’s okay,” she replied gently. “Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you’re doing the
wrong thing.”
“Yeah.”
“Actually,” she chuckled. “Sometimes it’s scarier to do the RIGHT thing.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and saw little sparks, stars. It was true. She was right. When was she
ever wrong. She was going to be a good mom.
“You’re right,” he murmured, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “You’re
right.”
They loitered outside of their building for a little longer, the conversation evidently not over yet.
Lunch rush had subsided and the crowds of office workers had dissipated. Still, each person
passing on the sidewalk looked like they were headed someplace urgent; brisk strides, sharp
movements. Never had Seokjin questioned the rhythm of the city, but in his state of delirium he
found it strange, how people collectively chose to live in such a way; never stopping, go go go,
going, gone.
His gaze flitted to the concrete beneath their feet, then sideways to Nayoung’s growing tummy. For
a while she hadn’t been showing but now it was evident, bit by bit.
Good things take time.
“When’s your baby due?”

“December.”
“Are you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“You’re gonna make a great mom.”
“Thank you,” she took another sip of her juice. “It’s a baby girl.”
He looked up from the ground in shock, eyes locking with Nayoung’s, who merely offered a cool
shrug and smile in return. She’d said that this was meant to be a secret, one that she wouldn’t
reveal until her child’s birth. Immediately he understood the gravity of her words. Somehow it gave
him courage.
They took the elevator up and went separate ways upon reaching their office. There were still a
couple hours left till the end of the workday but he was riding on a burst of adrenaline, and he
needed to see it to its end. He surveyed his desk and realized once again, there wasn’t much to
claim as his own. Rifling through the drawers he found a satchel of tea bags, a packet of gum,
scattered paperclips. He retrieved the tea and the gum and stuffed it into the side pocket of his
shoulder bag.
He switched off his monitor, powered down his computer. Glanced at his father’s office which was
still partially visible from his vantage point, the door closed thanks to a lengthy meeting with the
VP of Finance. This was his chance.
Rising from his seat with his bag in tow, he crossed the office floor with a kind of speed that
prompted colleagues to peer at him over their screens. Breathlessly he came to a halt outside of a
door marked “Human Resources,” Seokjin knocking twice before being beckoned in. He
disappeared behind it with a soft click.
From where Nayoung sat she could catch a glimpse of the HR office, her gaze flitting warily
between her Excel sheet and the closed door. One minute passed, then two, then five. She wasn’t
sure how long she’d expected the conversation to be, but it prolonged just enough to make her
worry, brows pinching with so much intensity that one of the juniors on her team asked if she was
okay.
Ten minutes later the door finally flew open, Seokjin bursting forth from it in urgent strides. The
two made eye contact. He smiled with a certain finality, a brokenhearted thing, and before she
knew it he was walking out of the main office doors. She remained frozen in her seat, mind
processing the events that had just transpired, the reality of it gradually sinking in, Nayoung
blinking slowly in acceptance. Fishing out her phone, she located his contact and tapped out a
quick message.
Nayoung: Will you still grab lunch with me once in a while?
Not long after, a response came.
Seokjin: Of course.
---
Afternoons had a way of dragging. Didn’t help that his bed was just an arm’s reach away, sheets
plush and soft, practically beckoning him to surrender. It took every ounce of control not to fling
himself out of his office chair and dive right into it, to take a lazy, unjustified nap until dinnertime.
What was the use in studying, when none of the information was actually sinking in, words
blending together into incomprehensible gibberish, no amount of coffee strong enough to pull him
out of his funk? He could feel himself on the brink of a mental breakdown when his phone
suddenly vibrated with an incoming text, Seokjung breaking into a grin upon seeing Jia’s name
flash across his screen. She’d sent him some sort of attachment; likely another funny meme she’d
come across while scrolling through social instead of actually working. The two of them often
conversed in the form of pictures and videos, no actual words exchanged.
He had just picked up his device to open the video when he heard the front door open and close
with a muted thunk.
Strange. So much so that he thought he’d misheard it. The workday wouldn’t be over for another
couple hours, and his mother had never left the apartment that day. Am I imagining things? He
wondered, staying very still in his seat, waiting for another sound.
Within seconds, he received his answer in the form of his parents’ bedroom door opening and
closing, this time accompanied by a loud bang, the sound ripping through the air and creating a
split through it. Seokjung immediately tensed at the noise, carefully rolling his chair towards his
door and opening it a tiny crack. Just enough so that he could hear whatever else was about to
unfold.
At first it was quiet. Lowered voices, scattered words.
“What are you—”
“Your father —”
“—on his way.”
“—mistake.”
Someone was responding, voice too soft to decipher.
It was Seokjin, undoubtedly so.
With utmost stealth he pried the door open a bit wider. The voices became slightly clearer,
Seokjung picking up most of the conversation over the wild pounding in his heart, his ears.
“Eomma. Can you let me expl—”
“What is there to explain?” She hissed. “You’ve reached a breaking point. You’re tired of working.
Fine, I get it. I understand that. Eomma used to work too. I know how stressful it can be. But I told
you yesterday, didn’t I? TALK to your father about it. Tell him to give you a little break, okay?
However long you need. When he gets home, let’s go back to the office together and sort it out,
mm? All three of us. Then maybe take a week off of work, two weeks, even a month if you need it.
But we have to work, right? How else are we going to make a living?”
“I’m not going back there.”

“Why?!” Her voice trembled slightly, desperation laced within it. “Tell me, what do you hate so
much about it? Do you know how lucky you are to have this job? To have the…the circumstances
that you do? You know how many kids would kill to be in your position? How many kids in this
country have to start from zero and work their way up? You know how lucky you are?”
“And I know I’m lucky. I KNOW I am. But I—”
“You and you brother have no idea what it’s like to work hard. This is nothing, what you’re doing
right now. Your father and I, you know where we started, right? You remember the kind of
conditions we lived in? Maybe you were too young to remember but Eomma hasn’t forgotten. Do
you know how much we sacrificed to get to where we are today? You’re only where you are now
because you’re stepping on our shoulders.”
“Eom—”
“Maybe we’ve gone too easy on you. Is that it? Is that what’s happening right now? Maybe your
father was right, that we spoiled you too much. We’ve given you everything. You should be
grateful. Any kid would be grateful. Instead you’re…you’re throwing it all away. Ridiculous,
really ridiculous.” She was huffing and puffing, overcome with hysteria. “Is this how you repay us
after everything we’ve done, Seokjin-ah? Is this your idea of being filial?”
“Eomma, please. Just listen to me. Let me speak.”
“Go on then. Let’s see what you have to say.”
He took a steadying breath before beginning very timidly: “It was your choice to marry appa. Your
choice to start a family, to run a business. Your choice to hand it over to me. D-Do you see what
I’m saying, eomma? It’s always been your choice. It’s never been mine.”
“Because we want what’s best for you!”
“But can’t you see how it’s killing me, to not have a choice of my own?”
“Why would you want that? So you can make stupid mistakes and fall flat on your face in life? Is
that what you want?”
“YES!” Seokjin cried out in frustration, albeit realizing he’d raised his voice and quickly lowering
it. “Yes, it’s…it’s what I want. I want to learn just like anyone else, to mess up and figure it out on
my own.”
She let out a laugh, cold and mocking. “Who taught you that kind of nonsense? You don’t think
messing up can have consequences? How do you expect to handle that?”
“I-I can learn from it—”
“Oh how LOVELY. How idealistic. You think this world is that pretty, that forgiving?”
As if on cue the front door flew open and slammed shut with another bang, this time the impact
nearly deafening, Seokjung physically flinching, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.
Through the narrow opening he could hear his father speaking, voice lowered into something of a
growl, menacing.
“We’re going back. Now.”
“I’m not.”
“Not negotiable. Car is parked on the curb. Come on. Now.”
“No.”
“You realize how ridiculous it is, to go to HR of MY company to quit your job? You realize who I
am, son? You think it’s that easy? You’ll pay for your antics today, just you wait. But right now,
now we’re going back to the office and we’re going to sort this out, clear everything up and pretend
like this never happened. Come on. Let’s go.”
“No matter what you say I’m not going back.”
There followed a crash of something upon the floor, the scattering of broken pieces from blunt
force. Their father was sort of like a landmine. Tiptoe around him. Accidentally step on him and
he’d rightly explode.
He was now yelling with all his might, Seokjung squeezing his eyes shut as the rooms seem to
quake under his father’s fury. “HOW DARE YOU TALK BACK TO ME LIKE THIS. ARE YOU
OUT OF YOUR MIND?”
“Seokjin-ah, come on. Be a good boy and listen to your father.”
“You can’t get me to listen to you by yelling like this.”
“WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO YOU?”
“You say you want the best for me but you won’t even hear what I have to say?”
It was hard to focus, a little difficult to breathe, Seokjung tuning out as the screaming intensified to
an unbearable decibel. He wanted more than anything to close the door shut and drown out their
voices, but he needed to hear the things being said. The cruel and terrible things being spoken to
Seokjin.
He still remembered when his parents drove down to Busan to pick him up in their shiny new
SUV. Prim and proper clothes, not just his parents but Seokjin too, dressed in comically fancy
attire for such a simple trip. He remembered looking down at his own outfit; scuffed up sneakers,
baggy shorts, a T-shirt fraying at the hems.
His aunt had instructed him not to cry when being picked up because it would “break his parents’
heart,” so he held back all of his tears when bidding their family goodbye. Very quickly he was
whisked away; he didn’t have a chance to cry even if he wanted to. He’d hoped to get one last look
at his home in Busan, his safe haven for the last several years of his childhood, but before he knew
it his aunt, uncle, Changmin, all of their silhouettes were disappearing from view.
It was awkward between Seokjin and Seokjung. The two brothers sat side by side in the backseat,
Seokjung taking time to familiarize himself with the vehicle’s decadent interior, Seokjin
apprehensively observing him, nibbling on his bottom lip. How grand, that their father’s business
had taken off in the time that Seokjung was sent away. What a thrilling reception, to drive into a
completely different neighborhood, brand new luxury complex, building with a doorman. On the
car ride up north their mother had bragged about the size of Seokjung’s new room. “Much better
than Busan,” she’d said. He wasn’t convinced.
Even after standing in the middle of said room, surrounded by sleek, matching furniture, cool
gadgets and toys that all the boys his age were playing with, fresh bedsheets covered in colorful
airplane patterns; he wasn’t convinced. Seokjung had a certain fascination with airplanes when he
left Seoul several years ago. He’d long outgrown the obsession, and now his new sheets felt very
awkward, very silly. He didn’t know how to say this to his parents.
But perhaps the most difficult thing to get used to was the fighting. His aunt and uncle in Busan
never fought like this. Auntie was very opinionated and the two didn’t necessarily agree on
everything, but uncle loved auntie too much to give her a hard time. At best they’d get into petty
arguments, which almost always ended in uncle surrendering first, smoothing matters over within
minutes after. Here, the fights seemed to last forever, landmines and warfare. The smoke would
linger for days.
Evidently money didn’t solve everything.
For the first several months Seokjung couldn’t stand it. He’d cower in his room, hands pressed
tightly over his ears, whole body shaking. He’d cry for Changmin, knowing his older cousin
couldn’t hear him, that he wouldn’t come to his rescue, not this time. Instead there’d be a small
knock on his door, and Seokjin would walk in. Seokjin was younger but seemed very numb to the
fighting. On days like this Seokjin would sit quietly next to his older brother, knee to knee,
shoulder to shoulder, very calm, no words, no tears. For a long time Seokjung couldn’t decide: was
he seeking comfort, or was he comforting him?
As he grew older, he realized that perhaps it was the latter.
And here he was again, cowering behind a door.
He forced himself to snap back to reality, fists clenched tight, knuckles white. Seokjin’s voice was
now raised as well, though he was no match for both parents, who had very quickly teamed up
against him.
“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”
“EOMMA, WHAT ARE YOU SAYING—”

“THIS ISN’T THE SEOKJIN I KNOW. WHO MADE YOU LIKE THIS.”
“I’ve ALWAYS been like—”
“YOU WERE NEVER LIKE THIS BEFORE.”
“IS IT YOUR UNIVERSITY FRIENDS? WHAT DID THEY TEACH YOU?”
“I KNEW WE SHOULD’VE SENT YOU TO A BETTER SCHOOL.”
“SHOULD’VE KEPT A BETTER EYE ON YOU.”
“YOU SURROUND YOURSELF WITH TRASH PEOPLE, YOU BECOME JUST LIKE
THEM.”
Seokjin could barely get a word in. “IT’S NOT LIKE THAT.”
“THEN WHO WAS IT? WAS IT TAEHYUNG?”
For the first time since the beginning of the altercation, the scene in the living room fell to a
troubled silence, the tension lingering for a beat too long. Seokjung could only imagine the look on
Seokjin’s face; perhaps a rage he’d never shown before was revealing itself. Their parents must’ve
sensed that something had shifted.
“WELL?” Their mother finally spat. “IS IT? WHY AREN’T YOU SAYING ANYTHING?”
“Leave him out of this,” Seokjin mustered, barely audible.
“SO YOU’RE-YOU’RE ADMITTING HE’S GOT SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT?”
Seokjung was seeing red.

“He has NOTHING to do with this, I just don’t want to hear his name out of your—”
“WHAT KIND OF DISGUSTING THINGS DID HE BRAINWASH YOU WITH?”
“DON’T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT.”
Seokjin’s voice had cracked.
“YOU’RE STILL DEFENDING A TWISTED PERSON LIKE HIM? ARE YOU SICK IN THE
HEAD TOO?”
“SO WHAT IF I’M LIKE HIM? SO WHAT IF I’M THE SAME? WILL YOU CUT ME OFF AS
WELL?”
Slap.
Like lightning crackling through a sky.
Hushed. Everything was still.
Then something buzzing in the air, low murmurings like rumblings of thunder. But even with his
bedroom door flung wide open Seokjung couldn’t hear it. There was conversation taking place, but
he couldn’t pick up a single word. Perhaps a full minute passed until he heard a strangled cry.
He stood up so fast that his head spun. Hastily he grabbed his phone and keys, stuffing them into
his pocket before barging past his door, taking large strides down the hall and stumbling upon a
staggering scene, one he wished he’d never have to witness, one that he’d always feared. Seokjin
kneeling on the living room floor, head bowed, tears dripping off of his chin and onto the carpet.
Their father sitting on the couch in stunned silence, face turned away, emotionless. Their mother
standing in front of her “disgraced” son, heaving in disbelief.
She was chanting words under her breath like an incantation.

“What did I do wrong. What did I do wrong. What did I do wrong.”
Without thinking he swooped in on the scene, grabbing his little brother by the arm and lifting him
to his feet. Seokjin turned to him, eyes wide in shock, glassy with tears.
“Come on,” he muttered, just as their mother began screaming.
“Don’t you dare leave. If you two walk out the door—KIM SEOKJUNG.”
Within seconds they were gone.
---
He didn’t let go of Seokjin’s arm until they exited the elevator onto the garage level.
His car’s tail lights blinked awake as the two neared, Seokjung opening the driver’s side and
settling behind the wheel, Seokjin climbing wordlessly into the passenger seat. Soft purrs from the
engine as he turned the key in the ignition, Seokjung dialing the radio volume high so that Seokjin
would feel comfortable crying freely if he needed it. He wasn’t sure what kind of mental state his
little brother was in. Since they left the apartment he hadn’t dared to look at him.
The drive out west was like muscle memory for Seokjung. Same route he’d followed hundreds of
times, mostly on bad days like this one. The windshield gave way to a sky of gold, cloudless.
Funny how impassive the universe was to humanity’s suffering.
Somewhere at the edge of the city he parked his car on an unassuming side street, switching off his
engine and unbuckling his seatbelt, Seokjin following suit without question. Out of the vehicle
they went, Seokjung leading the way, Seokjin trailing not far behind. They waited at a long
stoplight before crossing two busy roads. Seokjin glanced up from his feet and recognized the
scenery right away.
It was the Han river again.

On any given summer night there were crowds gathered by the water, splayed out on blankets,
choirs of laughter blending together like music. Usually Seokjin welcomed such an atmosphere, but
that evening he couldn’t be more thankful that Seokjung was shying away from it, leading them
onto a narrow footpath instead. For ten minutes they walked down said path without exchanging
words, Seokjung offering no explanation, Seokjin too exhausted to ask.
It was only when they entered an alcove of trees that Seokjung eventually slowed to a stop, Seokjin
taking note of their surroundings, secluded and abandoned. He watched as his brother leaned
against the railing overlooking the water, Seokjin mirroring him and standing by his side,
maintaining about an arm’s length between them.
The view was truly terrible, if you could even call it that. A giant bridge loomed over them, its
concrete pillars blocking out most of the skyline on the opposite side of the river, sky barely visible
thanks to the low hanging branches above their heads. As if self aware, the murky water lapped
quietly against the banks, in muted shame. No wonder no one ever stopped here.
During the beginning of the car ride Seokjin had been a weepy, quivering mess, but just as quickly
as the tears came they also stopped, thanks to the blaring music Seokjung had blasted through his
car speakers. He found himself getting lost in the bass instead, dissociating from reality.
Now the shaking had stopped too. The abrupt change of scenery was nice, even if it wasn’t
beautiful.
“I come here because no one else does,” Seokjung suddenly piped up, followed by an awkward
chuckle.
Seokjin licked his lips, dry and chapped. “I can see why.”
It was late evening now. Somewhere behind the bridge there hung an egg yolk of a sun, dipping
lazy and low. Seokjung remained pressed against the cold metal for a moment, the last of the day’s
light casting gold pools on his face. He seemed to be deep in thought.
And then he turned towards Seokjin, fully facing him.
“You know what I come here to do?”

His brother smiled. “Scream.”
“Huh?”
“Like this,” he said matter-of-factly before folding over the railing and unleashing a litany of
expletives. Somewhere behind them Seokjin could hear a flock of birds scattering.
“HYUNG, are you insane?”
To which Seokjung leaned back, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his face.
“Feels great. You should try it.”
“No way. It’s scary.” Seokjin mumbled. He imagined passerbys in their vicinity stopping in their
tracks at what sounded like an animal sacrifice. It wasn’t just scary; it was embarrassing, crazy, out
of the question. He didn’t want any part in it.
“Of course you don’t have to. No pressure. But this is a safe space to do it if you wanna give it a
go.”
And without warning Seokjung was at it again. “FUCKING SHIT—”
“Who are you cursing at?” Seokjin interrupted him.
“No one in particular. Sometimes you just gotta let it out.”
Splintered fragments from the last several hours flashed across his mind, Seokjin squeezing his
eyes shut, willing them to go away. He’d prepared himself for the worst when he made the
decision, but actually seeing it come into fruition was a different story entirely. The loss that he’d
accounted for; it was far worse than that. He expected wounds. He didn’t anticipate that they’d
leave scars.
What more did he have to lose?
Seconds later he was following his brother’s lead, he too leaning forward on the railing and letting
out a ragged scream. A little softer, less certain than Seokjung’s, but a promising start nonetheless.
And Seokjung was right when he said it felt good. It felt incredible, throat raw and strained but
with a lightness in his lungs. Tears stung his eyes once again but it didn’t feel like a bad thing.
“And you can switch it up, scream words that actually make sense, if you want,” Seokjung
encouraged. “Like this.”
“I FEEL SO FUCKING LONELY I COULD DIE!”
Seokjin was laughing now, cackling through his tears like a madman, confused as to how to feel
because he was finally feeling everything all at once. Somewhere layered in the sorrow was relief.
His heart lay gaping open, bleeding out.
“YOU FUCKING NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME FUCK!”
“I’LL NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING.”
“FUCKING ASSHOLES!”
“PIECE OF SHIT—”
“I’LL NEVER GET A REAL JOB.”
“ME NEITHER!”
“I’M IN LOVE WITH A BOY!”
“WHOO!”
“IS THAT SUCH A CRIME?”
“NO, HE’S A LUCKY GUY!”
“FUCK THIS FUCKING SHITHOLE LIFE.”
A young couple rounded the corner then promptly scurried away, sending the two brothers into a
fit of giggles. The sun had set now, night determined to take over. Why do I always come to the
river to cry? What did the poor river do to deserve this? He thought to himself as he clutched at his
aching side, tears trickling down, salt on his tongue.
The river did not reply, only continued to flow, steady and sure. Perhaps that in itself was enough
of an answer.
---
The text came shortly after they returned to the car.
Seokjung didn’t read it out loud. He simply stared at the open message, eyes grazing over the same
sentence over and over until Seokjin jolted him out of his daze.
“Is it about me?”
He nodded hesitantly.
“What does it say?”
Seokjung hesitated again.
“Does it say that I can’t go home anymore?” Seokjin murmured, picking at the lint pilling on his
pants.
“Mm.”
To which Seokjin laughed in mild disbelief.
“I heard them loud and clear the first time.”
Seokjung peered at him quizzically before remembering that there was a substantial chunk of the
conversation he’d missed, being some distance away and hiding behind the door. He fiddled
awkwardly with his phone, unsure as to what to do next. “Where do you wanna go?”
“You hungry?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling it.”
“Let’s eat.”
The thing about Seokjin was that most of the time his expression was unreadable. Seokjung liked
to think of himself as intuitive, but as they sat across from one another in the noodle shop, each
with their own heaping bowl of naengmyeon, his little brother quietly slurping his own portion,
Seokjung couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were currently running through his mind. Very
nonchalantly the boy paused in his eating, reaching for his phone to type out a text. Eating, texting.
Eating, texting.
Who was he texting?
They’d lived under one roof for years, yet in many ways they still felt like strangers.
He thought back to the chaos from just hours before in their family home. Parents blaming him for
their dashed dreams, their world crumbling at the seams all because he finally said “no.” Part of
him had envied Seokjin in their younger years, for all the attention he’d received. As they grew
older, he began to pity him instead.
Like piling bricks onto sand; it was bound to fall apart.
“After this,” Seokjin took a sip of his barley tea. “Can you take me to Jimin and Jungkook’s?”
Seokjung nodded. “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
And just like that he was back to eating, taking methodical bites, not too fast, not too slow.
Eyelashes fluttering against his pink-tinted cheeks, swollen from crying. Hardly noticeable unless
you were really looking.
---
The way Seokjin walked so confidently up the steps of Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment, Seokjung
figured he could probably do it with his eyes closed, easy.
He knocked once, and within seconds the door was flying open, Jungkook evidently having just
come back from a run, hair wet with perspiration, a thin sheen glistening upon his skin.
“I’d hug you but,” he gestured towards himself before looking up and spotting Seokjung hovering
awkwardly behind Seokjin. “Oh, hyung!” Jungkook cried, eyes alight as he offered a polite bow.
“Hyung, I heard you’re coming,” Jimin sang as he too approached the entryway. “We tried
cleaning as fast as we could but it’s still a bit messy. Sorry in advance.”
“I don’t care,” Seokjung said honestly. He truly didn’t.
They slipped off their shoes and stepped inside the apartment. Like Jimin had said, the space was
indeed a bit chaotic. Mismatched furniture as if they’d scavenged everything off the streets. Two
bicycles propped up against the coat closet door. An array of plants scattered throughout, both
hanging and potted. Altogether the space appeared very cozy, inviting. With an intimate familiarity
Seokjin plopped himself down on the couch, releasing a sigh as if he’d come home after a long
day. Seokjung tentatively eased himself into the space next to him.
“Sleeping over on this lovely Tuesday evening, huh?” Jungkook grinned, stretching his legs on the
floor and taking a hefty swig from his water bottle. “How exciting. You gonna stay over too,
hyung?”
“No, I’ll be heading back.”
“Ah, well. If you change your mind, this couch right here is a pull-out couch,” he declared proudly,
patting the armrest as if it were a dog that knew tricks.
“Nice.” It was nothing to get excited about but Jungkook seemed in fact, very excited. Everything
seemed to excite him, like a puppy of sorts. It was cute. No wonder Seokjin enjoyed spending time
with him.
“So what brings you to our humble abode in the middle of the week?” Jimin asked, perching
himself on the armrest, half sitting half standing. His petite frame was drowning in a far too
oversized T-shirt, blonde hair in disarray. He looked like a little chick.
Seokjin, who up until this point had seemed very relaxed, very normal cleared his throat anxiously,
Jimin and Jungkook sporting bright smiles as they awaited his reply. Jimin’s smile faltered in the
slightest upon seeing Seokjin’s change in expression.
“I’ll just cut to the chase,” he murmured. “I quit my job today.”
“Oh wow.
“Wow. Fuck. Holy shit.”
“And then right after, I came out to both of them.”
“…”
“So I just…I just need a place to crash for a day to sort things out. Two days at most, and I’ll be out
of your hair.” He chewed on his lip, nervous habit. “Sorry to do this,” he added.
Jimin and Jungkook were uncharacteristically quiet now, like night and day from how they were
mere moments ago. Brows furrowed and nose scrunched, Jungkook folded his hands in front of his
lips as if uttering a prayer. Jimin looked as if he’d been physically stabbed in the gut.
“And where will you go after a day or two?” The latter asked.
“I’m going to find a long term Airbnb, or a hostel of sorts and start job hunting pretty
aggressively,” Seokjin replied, no hesitation. All planned out. “Hopefully I’ll get something soon. I
think my experience is pretty decent. I’ll just need help on writing a good resume.”
“But what if it takes you longer than you expect? What will you do then?” Jungkook challenged.
Seokjin hadn’t taken this possibility into account. Mentally he’d allotted one, at most two months
to secure a new role. Was he being overly optimistic?
“I can pick up part time—”
“Listen. I know how you are and you’re a bigger man than me for it,” Jungkook cut in. “But we
LITERALLY have a pull-out couch,” he patted said armrest again, this time more forcefully for
emphasis. “—For this VERY reason. Like it’s been WAITING for this moment, all its life...”
“Your couch has feelings?”
“Yes and it will be VERY offended if you reject it.”
“Guys,” Seokjin sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I couldn’t. Really nice of you
but I—”
“And why the fuck not?” Jimin protested, arms crossed. “This is finally our chance to shine and
you’re going to turn us down?”
“We literally BEG you to stay over every time you’re here,” Jungkook wagged a finger in his
direction. “If you think we’re doing this out of courtesy or pity you could not be more wrong, I’m
telling you.”
“It’s already a struggle to fit the two of you in this apartment,” he protested. “The three of us piled
in here for god knows how long, it’s going to be too much…”
“Don’t you remember when I said the more the merrier?” Jimin eyed him intently. “I meant it what
I said that.”
There followed a long stretch of silence as Seokjin deliberated, Jimin and Jungkook synchronized
as they leaned forward in anticipation. The two of them were up-keeping the angry act as a joke,
but he could read between the lines and tell that they were genuinely upset. A gentle pat on his leg
interrupted his thoughts, Seokjin glancing up to find Seokjung’s soft gaze upon him.
“It might be a good idea, you know…so there’s one less thing to worry about. You’ve already been
through enough.” A pause. “Plus, you have friends that are willing to help. Not everyone can say
that.”
He was right. If it weren’t for Jimin and Jungkook he didn’t know where else he’d run to.
“Okay,” he released a shaky exhale. “Maybe for a week. And then I’ll play it by ear.”
“Or for however long you need,” Jungkook objected stubbornly.
Woven into his stubbornness was love, unapologetic love. It felt good to be in the presence of it.
“For however long I’ll need,” Seokjin repeated quietly, Jimin nodding in fervent affirmation.
Once they settled official business they spent the next hour shooting the shit, a calming sort of
madness. When the three of them gathered together their conversation became largely warbled
nonsense, difficult to comprehend from the outside looking in. But they continuously looped
Seokjung into the conversation, the elder trying his best to keep up, oftentimes failing to do so.
Jungkook offered him a cold beer, to which he declined, saying that he needed to drive back soon.
Instead Jungkook whipped up for him a very delicious, very fruity mocktail so that he wouldn’t
feel left out.
Time passed quickly in good company, and before he knew it he was letting out a languid yawn,
Seokjung glancing at the time and noting it as his cue to leave. Normally he’d be eager to head
home, crawl into bed and forget about the world but somehow he felt reluctant to part from his
little brother. Suddenly he felt very protective, fiercely so, his heart achingly sore as Seokjin
blinked innocently his way. “You’re leaving, hyung?” He paused before nodding in confirmation.
“I’ll walk you out then.”
He thanked the Park-Jeon hosts for their dazzling hospitality, both of the Kim brothers slipping on
their shoes and descending the stairwell, ultimately coming to a stop on the top steps of the
building’s entryway.
The two of them stood under a pool of lamplight. The night was blue, cicadas chirping in the
shadows. But underneath the lamplight everything was gold.
For a moment the brothers stood several meters apart, unsure of what to say to one another. Seokjin
was the first to speak.
“Hyung,” he said. “If I could ask one more favor from you. All of my things are packed up in my
apartment. I know you still have access. It’s not much, just a couple of suitcases and boxes, one trip
should do it. One of these days, can you help me pick them up and bring them here for the time
being?”
Seokjung didn’t know how to convey it, that he would do anything that Seokjin asked of him. So
instead he resorted to, “Of course.”
“Thanks hyung.”
“Alright. Is that all?”
“Yeah, that should be it.”

He began to turn on his heel but ended up stopping himself rather abruptly, suspended halfway
down the concrete steps, Seokjin peering at him with curiosity. Why it is so difficult to use words?
He’d never been good with words. Not then, not now.
“I’m sorry for being a shit brother.”
He could feel Seokjin’s eyes boring holes through his head, but found it difficult to make eye
contact.
“Hyung…why…”
“If I had made something of myself sooner, you’d have a place to go to. You wouldn’t have to
resort to this. I’m sorry I can’t provide that for you.”
“Hyung.”
“I’m going to get my shit together, I promise. I’m taking classes, I’m working side jobs. Once I
figure out the logistics and save up enough money I’m going to start my own business, get my own
place. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
“We’ll take care of each other,” Seokjin interjected. “I’m sorry that I don’t have much right now
either, but we will someday, I’m sure of it.”
To this day Seokjung remembered what it felt like to drown. Ocean water infiltrating his lungs,
sorrow weighing like a stone on his heart. He also remembered what it felt like to be saved. Pulled
above the waves and dragged into sunlight. In a strange way, standing before his little brother who
had overcome so much, who had carried on despite, despite, despite; it felt like he was being saved
all over again. He could feel it, hope blooming in his chest, so overwhelming like the gold light
they were standing in. Very awkwardly but earnestly Seokjung stepped forward, pulling Seokjin
into a gentle embrace. He relaxed into it when he felt his little brother hugging him back. A couple
of clumsy pats on the back and then they were parting, both a bit embarrassed by the show of
affection.
“Thank you, hyung.”
He walked away backwards, slow and measured steps, taking in the look of Seokjin perched on the
doorstep, smiling sweetly at him until he rounded a corner, the boy finally disappearing from view.
He walked down a narrow alleyway, sleepy shop windows illuminating his path, telephone wires
criss-crossed above his head.
He’d known for a long time that at the end of the day, they only had each other. For a while it
seemed sad, that they lived in such a reality. But when he considered said reality from a different
perspective, that they had each other; they had each other.
How lucky they were, the two of them.
My dear, don’t worry about a thing
Let’s sing together
All of your painful memories
Bury them deep in your heart
The past is in the past
It holds meaning like that
Sing to the ones who have left
Tell them you loved without regret.
[ ♪ Don’t Worry ]
Chapter End Notes
*Ma = Busan satoori for "Yah." I.e. "Yah, what did you say to me?" In Busan it's "Ma,
what did you say to me?"
---
Usually I have a lot to say at the end but I'm tired tonight so I'll just leave it at this:
thanks so much for reading. Really appreciate it. Please feel free to share your
thoughts with me and leave a comment down below, I always respond.
If you've struggled with any of the topics touched on in this chapter, just know that
you're not alone, I feel you, I'm with you.
Thanks for being patient. Take care till next time. <3
---
*Edit as of 5/16/21
Just wanted to assure you guys, even if I'm off Twitter I'm not abandoning this fic
haha. Life's just been busier than usual but I'm working on the story as I write this.
Don't worry. <3
Part 3
Chapter Notes
These past couple months have been a whirlwind for me, apologies for the delay.
Reminder that I will never abandon a story, once I start something I see it through to
the end.
Also in my defense this is the longest chapter yet hehe.
Without further ado, here's some healing content (hopefully) to make up for all the
angst. :)
Jia: Hey
Jia: I heard from Seokjung oppa
Jia: And I’m so fucking proud of you.
---
He awoke to an unfamiliar sound, a mechanical whirring. The curtains were drawn, room
drowning in black, Seokjin blinking until blurry silhouettes took form. Peering over the top of the
couch, he managed to catch a glimpse of Jimin’s back facing him, white button down tucked neatly
into his belted pants, showing off his petite waist. He seemed to be making coffee at the kitchen
counter, tinkering with a shiny new machine that Seokjin had never seen before. With a press of a
button the noise came to a stop, Jimin pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a tumbler on the side.
It was as he was capping the tumbler and turning on his heel that he spotted Seokjin’s sleepy gaze
fixed upon him.
“Good morning,” he whispered. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
The cheap plastic wall clock ticked to six in the morning.
“No, you’re good,” Seokjin lied with a shake of the head.
“How’d you sleep?”

He’d spent all night tossing and turning. Whether it was the lumpy pull-out mattress or the events
that had transpired during the day; he wasn’t sure which was to blame.
“Really good,” he lied again.
“I’m glad,” Jimin beamed, tightening the tie that had hung loose around his neck. For just another
Wednesday Jimin looked devastatingly handsome. He wondered how many of the office noonas
harbored a raging crush towards him. “Is the pull-out comfortable?”
This time it was harder to lie. “Yes.”
“If it’s not you can sleep on the couch as it is. Don’t let Jungkook pressure you into these things.”
A small sigh of relief. “Okay.”
“I’ll try and get home early today,” he murmured as he wiggled his feet into his loafers, laptop bag
slung over his shoulder. “Maybe order some takeout for us?”
The room was still shrouded in shadows, and Jimin felt like sunlight. Seokjin didn’t want him to
go.
“Sounds like a plan.”
With a click of the door the light slipped out of the apartment, everything once again plummeting
into darkness. For a couple minutes or so he laid awake, propped slightly upright on his elbows,
eyes surveying his surroundings. Six in the morning and the rest of the day lay sprawled out before
him; no schedules, no meetings, no duties, no obligations. Infinite possibilities that should’ve felt
thrilling but terrified him more than anything.
From behind him sounded the creak of a door, a very sleep-heavy Jungkook emerging from his
bedroom, lids still glued together, bare feet smacking against the hardwood. Wordlessly he
collapsed onto the other side of the pull-out bed, face smushed into the mattress. Within minutes
light snores escaped from his open mouth.
On second thought — Seokjin eased himself down so that he lay flat on his back, taking a couple
deep breaths in and out before letting his eyes come to a close.
On second thought — at least for now — this was fine.
---
Jimin and Jungkook had a routine. Seokjin quickly fell in rhythm.
On most mornings Jimin woke up much earlier than the other two. He tried his best to be quiet in
the kitchen but his clumsiness got the best of him, the silence oftentimes pierced by clinks and
clangs, followed by Jimin’s hisses of frustration. Half of the week Jungkook worked from home,
and on those mornings he slept in without seeing Jimin out the door. Seokjin much preferred such
days, because it meant that one, he’d have Jungkook to keep him company at home and two, he
wouldn’t have to listen to the ridiculously drawn out goodbyes the two exchanged at the door.
“You got your coffee?”
“Check.”
“Laptop?”
“Check.”
“Lunch?”
“Yeap, check.”
“Kiss?”
Which was usually followed by a soft sound of lips meeting, giggles galore, more soft sounds,
Seokjin questioning every life decision that led him to this point.
“Check.”
He heard it every time. He pretended he didn’t.
When Jungkook worked remote, he spent a generous amount of time relaxing. To put it nicely, he
worked smart but not hard, focusing on high priority, flashy tasks that grabbed his boss’s attention
and contributing minimal effort to everything else. Which meant, much to Seokjin’s delight, that he
had a lot of time to spare, to waste away the day.
He wanted to start applying to jobs from the get-go, but Jungkook managed to convince him not to.
“Take two weeks off,” he urged Seokjin. “Two weeks to get some rest, for crying out loud. After
two weeks I’ll help you, whatever you need.”
The original plan had been to hit the ground running, but two weeks of nothing sounded
increasingly enticing; how often in life would he have an opportunity like this again? Perhaps it
was wise, to sit back and hit pause, enjoy his newfound freedom.
They began running together on a nearly daily basis, forming a mind-numbing routine of stretches
at the foot of the building before taking off through the winding streets of Hongdae. At first the
prospect of running with Jungkook was incredibly daunting; Seokjin considered himself a good
runner, but knew that he was no match for Jungkook and his lightning speed. Yet when they
embarked on their first route through the city, he was surprised to find Jungkook exerted no more
than a leisurely jog.
“I don’t see the point in running fast,” he explained, hardly huffing and puffing. “Takes all the fun
out of it.”
Every day they’d run to Gyeongui park then loop back around, not without dawdling by the
shallow pond in the center of it, Jungkook always armed with a satchel of rice to feed the scattering
of ducks that called the water home. He seemed to revel in the way they recognized him, how they
flocked to him before he’d even pull out their food.
Jungkook was borderline obsessed with rooftop bars, Seokjin learning to appreciate them in stride
as the two of them bar-hopped across town for happy hour specials. Being much earlier than the 9-
5 crowd they could usually snag seats with fantastic views, overlooking the city, glitter and gold
under the late summer sun. The office workers would come pouring in later in the evening, crowds
abuzz like the hum of a hive.
“You miss that?” Jungkook nodded towards a cluster not far from them.
Seokjin furrowed his brow, scrutinizing said cluster with an air of uncertainty. Eager young
workers dressed to impress, clad in pressed button downs, pristine skirts and slacks. Even during
happy hour there lingered a sense of desperation, shoulders drawn tight, practiced smiles.
“People didn’t really talk to me like that at the office,” he replied honestly.
“I would’ve.”
“Liar. Everyone was scared of me.”
“Same in high school but I wasn’t. I talked to you.”
He was right. Jungkook was one of the first to approach him.
The sun was setting over the hazy skyline, lights blinking awake as night settled slow and easy
over Seoul, a cool breeze ushering in its arrival. He watched as Jungkook admired the scenery with
his chin resting in the palm of his hand, wind toying with his tresses, everything very still before he
turned to look at Seokjin, all smiles, bunny teeth and crinkled eyes.
Days passed like this. The raging heat and wet of monsoon season; he let himself get drenched in
it. Sweat soaked shirts and salted skin. Cold showers made him feel alive. He tried not to think
about sad things, for there were too many sad things to think about. Shoved certain words and
images to the very recesses of his mind and buried them there. Maybe one day, when the weather
would inevitably cool and the sun would hang low, he’d crawl into that dark space and unpack it
all bit by bit. For now he chose to sit in the sun.
The three of them shared most of their meals together, circled around the rickety dining table,
conversations prolonging late into the night, much later than they should. Weather permitting
they’d take their drinks to the slanted roof, lay there against the residual heat of the sun-baked
tiles, gazing upon a sky where stars didn’t exist.
Two weeks came and went faster than he could comprehend. True to his word, come time to get
down to business, Jungkook rolled up his sleeves, geared up and ready to help. With no resume, no
interviewing skills, no handle on navigating the real world, he found himself beginning from stark
zero and in dire need of any guidance.
“Just copy my resume format,” Jungkook offered. “After I finish work today we’ll get you to a
photo studio.”
That evening he tossed on his best shirt, Jungkook leading them to a nearby studio to get his photo
professionally taken. On their way back they stopped at a 7/11 for some popsicles, Seokjin spilling
a couple drops on said shirt. Not long after the studio sent him the finished product.
“They barely photoshopped your picture. Wow.”
“Do they usually?”
“Yeah. It’s because you're so handsome.”
“Enough.”
The easy part was over.
He’d heard from his university friends how grueling the job search could be, how hours of
scrolling through ill-fitting job descriptions had a way of killing your self esteem. Early into the
process he stumbled across a listing for an attractive position at an esteemed company, Seokjin
transfixed on the webpage, eyes scanning the same two paragraphs up and down. Five years of
experience, the post clearly indicated. He was off by a long shot.
“Just go for it,” Jungkook urged. “You never know what’ll happen.”
“Right.”
“And even if they reject you, it’s not the end of the world. Don’t let a ‘no’ discourage you. I’ve
heard it plenty of times and look at me now.”
He bit the bullet and applied, and within a couple of business days received an email for a quick
phone screen. “Phone screens are chill,” Jungkook assured him. “They’re just trying to get a sense
of the basics.” Nevertheless Seokjin spent the entire night prior researching commonly asked
questions, rehearsing his answers over and over again as Jungkook and Jimin slept soundly in the
next room.
Come the following afternoon of the scheduled call, Jungkook remained in his room during the
interview while Seokjin paced nervous circles back and forth in the living area. The recruiter’s
voice was sweet like honey, achingly polite. But less than five minutes into the conversation both
sides quickly realized that he truly didn’t have the right credentials for the job.
“We’ll keep you in our database,” she said kindly. “So if any other opportunities come up we’ll
reach out to you.” He had a feeling they wouldn’t.
The phone cut to silence before Seokjin slowly sank into the couch, overcome with a post-rejection
daze. The first of many, he surmised as he slumped in defeat, as Jungkook poked his head out of
his room to find Seokjin in his sorry state.
“Didn’t work out?”
He shook his head. “Unqualified.”
“Hey,” Jungkook shimmied beside him, giving his arm a light punch. “Regardless, your first
interview! It’s a huge moment—”
“All that practice for nothing.”
“Aw, don’t say that. You’re better prepared for next time,” Jungkook fired back. “I remember how
nervous I was for my first interview. You sounded so confident from what I could hear. Sorry, I
caught a little bit of it through the door. Dude, you’re doing it. You’re awesome.”
Next time. The prospect of doing this all over again, plucking his hopes up, throwing himself out to
the wolves — the mere thought of it made him want to sink all the way to the floor. But Jungkook
had said “next time” with such confidence that Seokjin too felt an inkling of faith igniting within
him.
“This is a cause for celebration. Wanna go out for dinner? I’ll ask Jimin too.”
“Sure.”
They set up a date at a chimaek joint within walking distance, Seokjin and Jungkook arriving a bit
early and loitering beside the restaurant’s storefront, waiting for Jimin. The two of them were
unintentionally matching that day; Jungkook in one of his oversized white tees per usual, Seokjin
wearing the same since he’d run out of his own clean clothes. They looked almost comical,
standing side by side on the bustling sidewalk, necks craned in search of their friend in the crowd.
Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. Jimin was still nowhere to be seen. You on the way?
Jungkook sent out a text, moments later receiving a call in response instead.
“Jimin-ah, where are you?”
Faint murmuring on the receiver, and then Jungkook let out a small “Oh.”
More murmuring peppered by hums of acknowledgement, and then Jungkook was stuffing his
phone into his pocket and looking up at Seokjin.
“He’s stuck at work again,” Jungkook said sadly. “It’s been happening a lot lately.”
“Ah. He works so much.”
“Yeah.” A nibble of the lip. “Is it okay if it’s just us two?”
It saddened him that Jungkook could still ask such a question in earnest, after all the time they’d
spent together since Seokjin moved in. “Not like we’ve been glued at the hip for the last three
weeks,” he wanted to reply. Instead he flashed a reassuring smile before giving him a playful shove
through the restaurant doors, Jungkook cackling as he nearly tripped over his own feet.
The meal was good. It was nice living in the vicinity of Hongik. He liked to think that such a place
could keep him young, the second floor of the establishment bustling with university students,
choirs of laughter and animated chatter. Beyond the glass windows overlooking the pedestrian
street they could spot the usual crowds formed around the buskers and dancers. His heart felt light.
They ordered plenty of food and drink to share, plus an extra serving to take home for Jimin. Left
with their takeout box in tow and strolled leisurely down the busy sidewalk, pausing to poke
around in the boutiques and thrift shops, to listen in on the lone singer crooning melodramatic love
songs in front of H&M.
Both of them had showered, winded down for the night and Jimin still wasn’t home. Jungkook
went about his business as usual, dabbling in computer games, scrolling through videos on his
phone, occasionally flitting his eyes towards the apartment entryway. It was only when the clock
ticked past midnight that he relented with a yawn, excusing himself from the living room and
retreating towards his bedroom door.
“I’ll be in the office tomorrow,” Jungkook leaned against the door frame with a pout. “You gonna
miss me?”
“Tragic.”
“I asked if you’re gonna miss me.”
“Every second will be agony.”
Satisfied with his answer, Jungkook slipped inside with a soft click, the sliver of light beneath the
door quickly fading to black.
Jimin did not return until two in the morning.
He snuck through the entryway as quietly as possible, only letting his guard down upon spotting
Seokjin under a pool of lamplight, laptop open, muted keys clacking. Toeing off his shoes and
resting his bag on the counter, he carried his tired body towards the couch, Seokjin swiveling his
head around and offering a gentle smile.
“Is Jungkook sleeping?”
“Yeah.”
The couch was folded up now, Seokjin wielding the excuse of there’s more room this way to
appease a very stubborn Jungkook. Slowly Jimin lowered himself into the center of it, leaning his
head against its back and heaving a shaky sigh. Even in the dim lighting he could see that Jimin
was not faring well. Dark circles pressed beneath his eyes, long shadows cast across his face.
Seokjin had never seen him this defeated.
“Sorry I missed dinner, Seokjin-ah,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” He waved it off. “I got rejected anyway.”
“Still. It’s a start. I’m so proud of you.”
Years of being on the receiving end of Jimin’s compliments and he still wasn’t used to it. “Thank
you,” he murmured, heat creeping to his cheeks.
“Do you mind if I rest here for a while?”
“Of course,” Seokjin nodded, closing his laptop to give him undivided attention.
A long silence ensued, weighed down by something heavy.
“Tired?”
“I could really use a drink.”
“It’s late. It’s not good for you. Our faces are going to get puffy.”
It was then that Seokjin noticed his face already was from crying, the skin surrounding his eyes
and cheeks tender and swollen.
“Not that that’s important,” Seokjin backtracked hurriedly. “Wanna split one?”
To which Jimin turned to him with a look of relief, large pools of tears threatening to spill over.
“Oh god. Okay yeah.” Within seconds he was scrambling up from the couch and beelining for the
fridge, popping open a bottle of beer and promptly shoving it into Jimin’s hands.
As soon as Jimin took his first sip, he began crying again.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Jimin cry, and he’d seen a good amount of people
cry; Jungkook weeping over sad movies, Yoongi shedding drunken tears, Hoseok doubled over
laughing, streams running down his face. But only once had he seen Jimin unravel like this, and it
was because of him. Because Jimin had been worried about him.
How dare the ugly world break angel Jimin.
In between sniffles and sips Jimin divulged the weight of his woes, Seokjin listening intently
without interruption. He’d been looking forward to dinner with Seokjin and Jungkook all day, had
even skipped lunch to finish his tasks early when in the last fifteen minutes his boss ambled over
and dumped a massive assignment on his desk. Told him it was due the next morning, gave a half-
assed explanation of how to go about it, snapped at Jimin when he asked for clarification. “You’ve
got the brains, figure it out.”
Nearly everyone had left the office by the time Jimin opened the file to tackle the project, most of
the lights out save for the lone bank lamp illuminating his work station. Prior to working he’d
never felt this stupid, this humiliated, but he was slowly learning to get used to the feeling. Ducked
into the restroom to cry and bumped into the janitor along the way, who asked him if he was okay,
if he needed to vent. As much as Jimin wanted to take him up on the offer, time wasn’t exactly on
his side, the boy excusing himself before scurrying back to his desk in a muddled panic. In the end
even the janitor left before him, the rest of the office descending into total darkness, said darkness
very big, very vast, Jimin very tired, very small.
“I feel so stupid. So stupid and so lonely. Why is life so lonely,” Jimin whispered, draining the last
of the beer and licking his lips.
“You’re actually the smartest person I know.”
“And yet I still feel this dumb.”
He fumbled awkwardly with the cushion in his lap before abandoning it altogether, scooting closer
to the middle and reaching forward to pat Jimin on the knee.
“Well at least…I hope you don’t feel lonely now.”
Jimin broke into an earnest smile, the last of his tears rolling down the curve of his cheek, trickling
into the corner of his mouth. “Just you being here is more than enough.”
A peaceful hush fell over the two as Jimin closed the gap between them, fitting his body against
Seokjin’s side and nuzzling his face into his shoulder. They let time pass as they sat there in
silence, both of them tired and broken but for a brief moment, healing.
“You know, I could really use some lovin’ from my momma,” Jimin muttered absentmindedly,
seconds later tensing upon realizing his mistake. Seokjin didn’t seem to mind.
“A couple of our moms are getting together this weekend for dinner,” he continued. “We should
crash their party.”
---
The Park house was the same as Seokjin had left it. Yellowing wallpaper and dappled sunlight.
The moment the door opened the room was bubbling over with commotion, aroma of home-cooked
food and homey warmth despite the hum of the aircon.
“The kids are here!” Namjoon’s mother bellowed, the other women turning towards the entryway
and letting out excited coos.
“Mooching off of us for free food again?” Mrs. Jeon teased as she took a sip of her wine, only
setting down her glass upon spotting a fresh face hovering in the foyer. “Oh, Seokjin-ah?”
From a quick survey of the apartment there were five women in attendance, the mothers of Jimin
and Jungkook, Namjoon and Yoongi, and — his heart leapt to his throat — the kind eyes and warm
smile of Taehyung’s mother.
“Aigoo, Seokjin-ah. I heard you were coming today,” Namjoon’s mother greeted him. “It’s been so
long since we’ve seen you.”
“He’s all grown up now, look at him.”
“Look how handsome he’s gotten. Such a small face.”
“Our Seokjinnie’s always been this handsome,” Taehyung’s mother chimed in, rising from her
place at the table to give him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. It was a silly thing, a fleeting touch,
yet something about it made him want to cry.
Half of the food was catered, the other half cooked. The trio scurried about as they tried their best
to pitch in, uncovering the dishes lined along the counter, putting final touches on the table settings
before being banished to the “kids’ table” in the living room instead.
“Sorry boys, there’s not enough space here,” Jimin’s mother said apologetically. “The living
room’s more comfortable anyway.”
“When do you think it’ll change?” Jungkook asked as the three of them sat cross-legged around the
weathered soban, elbows bumping into one another as they scarfed down heaping piles of food.
“Sitting at the kids’ table.”
The adults were chatting merrily amongst themselves, wine glasses clinking, laughter ringing in the
air like bells.
“Maybe when we get married?” Seokjin suggested.
“Or when we have kids of our own.”
“They didn’t even ask if we wanted wine,” Jungkook scowled, patting his chest indignantly. “I
want.”
“You don’t even like wine that much,” Jimin jested between chews.
“Yeah, but this water is so boring.”
“Then go ask,” Jimin looked up from his bowl with a tilt of the chin. “Go over there and ask, big
boy.”
The two of them proceeded to exchange a look, Seokjin forced to bear witness and wishing he
could disintegrate instead. Jungkook was biting his lip in a horrifying display of horniness, Jimin
smirking back at him, very pleased with himself. More than a month had passed and Seokjin still
hadn’t called them out on their bullshit, but as his eyes darted back and forth between his two best
friends, he realized he probably wouldn’t have to. They were disgustingly obvious, plain as day.
How dense he must’ve been, to not see it until now.
“Forget it,” Jungkook mumbled, suddenly coy.
It wasn’t easy, being the third wheel.
“I’m gonna go get seconds.”
He excused himself from the kiddie table and maneuvered through the cramped apartment,
catching snippets of lively conversation as he passed the adults gathered around the dining table.
Yoongi’s mother was recounting one of Yoongi’s mishaps during his Japan adventures, the rest of
the women in stitches as Mrs. Min wrapped up her story with a sullen shake of the head. “That
idiot.” Seokjin found himself stifling a laugh as he made his way towards the kitchen counter.
And then he heard Taehyung’s name.
“Our Taehyungie really misses Namjoon,” Mrs. Kim seemed to be addressing Namjoon’s mother.
“He always talks about flying to America to visit him. Do you know if he’s made a decision yet?”
“You know how he is. So indecisive. That’s sweet of Taehyung though. Has he been to America
before?”
“He hasn’t traveled much in his life. He wants to travel more, when time allows.”
Seokjin hadn’t moved an inch since he heard Taehyung’s name. He wants to travel more. Travel
where? What was he into these days? Did he still dream of Paris or was he thinking of someplace
new? Tunnel vision took over as the noise in the room devolved to static, Seokjin suddenly burning
with a painful desire to see him. Even if it was just to ask a silly question: “Taehyung-ah. Where do
you want to travel to these days?”
“Are you okay?”
With a sharp jerk he snapped out of his trance, everything in the room coming back full throttle.
Taehyung’s mother was now standing beside him, peering at the boy with mild concern.
“Sorry,” he mustered, stepping aside quickly to make room for her at the counter.
“You’re fine, you’re fine,” she chuckled, beckoning for his return. “You’re enjoying the food?”
“I really shouldn’t be eating this much but it’s too good.”
“Seconds are a must. Which one’s your favorite?”
Without hesitation he pointed towards the plate of spicy galbijjim in the center, most of it
consumed save for a couple spare pieces.
“That’s mine,” she patted her chest with pride.

“I thought I recognized the taste.”
“You thought right.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“I know it is.”
It was at some point during his high school years when she’d first introduced the dish to him,
Seokjin having stayed over for dinner after an afternoon of studying with Taehyung. “How can it
taste this good?” Seokjin exclaimed repeatedly as he dove back in for more. Taehyung had
laughed, very endeared. “My mom can make it for you whenever, if you like it so much.” Every
time he came over for dinner thereafter there’d be a steaming plate of galbijim waiting for him.
She hadn’t forgotten. All these years, and neither had he.
He returned to his rightful place in the living room, finishing the last of his portion as Jimin and
Jungkook sprawled out on the ground beside him, wiped out with a food coma. The adults seemed
to be still going strong, popping open their third bottle of wine with a whoop and a cackle.
“Say,” Seokjin scratched at his chin. “Where’s Hobi’s mom?”
“She was supposed to come,” Jimin replied. “Got called into work last minute.”
“Yeah. Ever since his dad lost his job she’s been picking up shifts to make up for it.”
Mr. Jung lost his job? Not once had Hoseok mentioned it in their recent conversations, Seokjin
overcome with guilt for not knowing. How out of the loop was he? Was this the reason why
Hoseok worked as hard as he did?
“Now that we got what we came for, let’s leave,” Jungkook interrupted his thoughts, Jimin giving
him an admonishing smack on the arm.
“Mooch.”
“What do you guys wanna do after this?” Seokjin asked, stuffing down the last piece of meat and
pushing his empty bowl aside.
“I don’t know. I’m restless. I wanna do something.”
“Seeing them drink makes me wanna drink too,” Jimin admitted, a dangerous spark igniting in
Jungkook’s eyes.
“Can we go out?” He rose to his knees, voice laced with excitement. “There’s this bar that just
opened up in Hapjeong-dong and they play all these cool songs on vinyl—”
“Oh yeah, I heard about that one too. Wanted to check it out for a while.”
A scrunch of the nose as Jimin mulled over the proposition. “Yeah, don’t see why not. They don’t
need us here anyway.”
As expected, the mothers made little objection when the boys announced they were leaving for the
bar.
“Arasseoooo. Be safe.”
“How are you guys getting there?”
“Subway.”
“Okay. Have fun.”
“Don’t drink too much. It’s bad for your liver.”

“Bye, eomma,” Jimin whimpered as his mother wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug and placed a
kiss to his temple. He’d gotten what he came for.
“You’re not too tired these days? Work treating you well?” Mrs. Park asked, tenderly brushing the
hair away from his forehead.
“Work is good,” Jimin lied, grinning from ear to ear.
The three of them slipped on their shoes in the foyer, Jimin and Jungkook already out the door and
down the hall when Mrs. Kim hurried over, stopping Seokjin in his tracks.
“Here, Seokjin-ah. I packed some extra galbijjim for you.”
He glanced down at her hands to see a large tupperware meticulously wrapped in a colorful cloth
handkerchief, evidently prepared in advance of the dinner party. All of the mothers praised him for
how much he’d grown, yet somehow standing before Mrs. Kim he felt very much like a child.
“Thank you.”
“But is it okay if you take this to the bar?” She asked worriedly, eyeing the gaudy pattern. “It’s a
bit much, isn’t it? Should I get a plastic bag?”
“No need,” Seokjin waved it off, taking hold of the package with pride. “I really appreciate it.
Thank you.”
“I know you probably cook often with Jungkook and Jimin but I figured you wouldn’t mind
something different for a change.”
“Your cooking is way better.”
“I’ll make it for you any time, okay?” She beamed, reaching forward and ruffling his hair
affectionately.
“Thank you, eomeonim.”
“You’re welcome, adeul.” The warmth of her palm rested against his cheek. “Have fun. Don’t
drink too much.”
Later that evening the bartender asked him why he’d brought such a large tupperware of food to
the bar. Seokjin had drank quite a bit, perhaps more than he should. Skin like fire on a hearth, the
lights in the room a blur and aglow. He looked at the parcel at his side, chuckled a little to himself
and replied, “My mom packed it for me.”
---
The new intern was very tall and slender, model’s physique, and frankly a breath of fresh air in an
office of 7’s at best. But even angels met their demise in the presence of Jongsuk, who had been
tasked with taking said intern under his wing.
More like flattening him under his foot.
The intern’s stint at the company would be brief. Taehyung overheard the boss saying it would
only be a couple months before he’d leave to finish up his last semester in university. Sad,
Taehyung thought to himself, how anyone would waste away their last summer in a stuffy office
like this, much less someone of such sparkling caliber.
On the intern’s first day he greeted his mentor Jongsuk with a sunny disposition, only to be shot
down with cold looks and even colder words. It’d been a week since his arrival and day by day
Taehyung witnessed his withering, like a flower losing its petals. Shoulders slumped, mouth drawn
into a serious line. It was nearly noon and he hadn’t cracked a smile all morning.
Taehyung had started taking proper lunch breaks; namely because he realized that the office didn’t
deserve that much of his precious time and two, it gave him an excuse to get away from Jongsuk.
Jongsuk remained glued to his desk at all times, only excusing himself to use the restroom or to
grab a third or fourth cup of coffee, hoping all the while that their boss could see how dedicated he
was to his work, the perfect cog in the machine of capitalism. And because of the stark example
he’d set, the poor intern was afraid to leave the office as well, taking sorry excuses for a break in
the employee cafeteria before rushing back to Jongsuk, only to sit in solemn silence.
It was too depressing. Taehyung couldn’t bear to watch any longer.
“Hey,” he leaned over his desk the moment Jongsuk slipped away to heat up his lunch. “I’m gonna
go out and grab something. Wanna tag along?”
The intern eagerly agreed.
They rode the elevator together and engaged in polite small talk, Taehyung largely guiding the
conversation and the intern responding nervously, albeit his courage growing as he realized
Taehyung wouldn’t bite his head off.
The weather was ideal that day, the perfect balance of sun and clouds. He led the two of them
across the street to a cafe tucked behind a quaint alleyway, both of them ordering sandwiches for
takeout before traversing a block or two south, where they eventually stopped in front of a
courtyard wedged between two high-rises.
This was as close to nature as they could get in city center. Manicured flower beds peppered
between wooden benches and metal tables. A couple other office workers stationed at said tables,
chatting amongst themselves, taking phone calls, nothing spectacular. Taehyung chose a bench on
the far end of the courtyard under the shade of a young magnolia tree, lowering himself onto one
end, the intern following suit beside him.
“It’s cool that you’re graduating soon,” Taehyung remarked as he pried open his sandwich bag.
“You ready for it? Working life?”
“I dread coming to work everyday.”
“Sorry to hear. I was like that in the beginning too.”
For a moment only the sounds of rustling sandwich paper, muted chewing, until the calm was
punctured by a startling outburst: “How can you stand sitting across from him all day?”
“What, Jongsuk? Easy. I just don’t look.”

“Ahhhh,” the boy whined. “Why didn’t they pair me with you?”
“Because Jongsuk is much more experienced. There’s a lot of things he knows that I don’t.”
“But I can’t learn anything from him because he’s scolding me all the time.”
“It’s stressful, yeah. I’ve been in your shoes so I know what it feels like. I went through the same
thing with him when I first got here.”
“Sunbae, are all offices like this?”
He paused from his chewing to mull over the question. Considered his friends’ circumstances, how
vastly they varied. Jungkook, who boasted a fantastic work life balance, supported by a great team.
And then there was Jimin, walking daily into a minefield and out of it a wounded man.
“Not always,” Taehyung said slowly. “It’s a hit or miss.”
“I just started and I’m over it. How am I supposed to do this for the rest of my life?”
He’d expected a simple meal with a timid intern, not the kind of existential questions suddenly
being thrown his way. His mind grappled furiously to come up with an adequate answer, wholly
aware that he was only one year older than the student and at the same time not wanting to steer
him wrong.
“This is just one bad experience. Don’t let it scare you wrong.”
The intern was sulking, an uneaten sandwich clasped between his hands.
“How’s the bread on that one? It’s good, right?” Taehyung gently reminded him, the boy finally
remembering to take a bite.
“It’s good,” he murmured, wiping crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “You seem very zen,
sunbae. Like nothing ever bothers you.”
“HA!” Taehyung exclaimed, nearly choking on his food as he stifled a laugh.
“Why, am I wrong?”
“I’m glad you think that way.”
“Why? Are you not?”
“I’d like to think I’m at peace with myself now, yeah. But for the longest time I was a bit of a train-
wreck.”
“Really? I don’t believe you.”
“Trust me. A mess.”
“What made you change?”
Another loaded question, Taehyung cradling his chin in his palm, gazing into the slice of city street
visible from where they sat. The realization came to him unceremoniously one day. Urged him to
get up from his desk, step into the midday sun, lean his head back and listen for birdsong amidst
the chaos.
“Realizing that I shouldn’t lose myself in the process,” he replied firmly, locking eyes with the
intern who stared back at him with full attention.
“Oh.”
“This internship is what, two months? Let’s say by the end of the two months you feel like your
soul’s been sucked dry, that you’ve done what you can and it still isn’t working, dust your hands
off and move on with your life. You’re young, you’re smart, you’re capable. Don’t be afraid of
moving on.”
A coy smile tugged at the lips of the intern, eyes softening into a dopey sort of look. Taehyung
knew that expression full well, choosing to ignore it and crumpling the sandwich bag between his
fist. Before he opened his mouth to say his piece, the intern was firing away with another question.
“Is it hard to date while you’re working?”
Taehyung narrowed his eyes at him. “Why are you asking?”
No answer aside from a growing smile. Taehyung needed to nip it in the bud.
“Yes, it’s very hard to date,” he answered sternly. “I don’t have time for it and my guess is neither
will you.”
A dramatic sigh. “I hate adulthood already.”
He’d heard the same bitter declaration from friends and colleagues alike, and for a while he
admittedly felt much the same. Bought into the fallacy that there were certain milestones he needed
to reach to be happy; 9-5 job, buying property, getting married, having kids. If he followed the
formula to the tea, maybe he’d make something out of himself.
Never had he imagined breaking off an engagement at the tender age of twenty three, then moving
back into his childhood home; disgraced, lost, heartbroken. As if he’d taken two steps forward and
tenfold back.
But there was something surprisingly grounding about waking up in his twin bed. Breakfast
waiting for him on the kitchen table. If he woke up early enough he’d walk with his little sister to
the bus station, sleepy morning conversations before they’d hop onto different buses and go their
separate ways. Cooking together, eating together, taking walks after dinner together. All the excess
and expectations stripped away, back to basics.
Strangely it was then that he began to bloom.
Hard days still came plenty. Long hours at the office. Missing the last train. The loneliness of
standing on an abandoned subway platform. Days where he’d spill coffee on his favorite shirt,
nights of tossing and turning, sleepless. Moments of complacency paired with a nagging sense of
lack, that something was missing. Nevertheless at the end of such days, he remembered to give
himself a pat on the back, to speak to himself kindly: you’ve done well. You’ve tried your best.
“Yah. t’s too early for you to say that.”
“I feel like I’ve seen enough.”
“You haven’t, I promise.”
“Will I become like Jongsuk?”
Both of them had finished their lunches, the two rising from the wooden bench, crowns of their
heads grazing the low hanging branches of the magnolia tree.
“Actually…you know why Jongsuk’s like that?”
The intern shook his head.
“He’s very insecure. Has to put others down to lift himself up.”
“That’s sad, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Taehyung nodded. “So don’t let him get to you. He’s not as tough and scary as he seems.”
They returned to their seats rather inconspicuously, Jongsuk giving them a brief once-over before
fixing his attention to his monitor once more. The training resumed almost immediately, Jongsuk
picking up right where they’d left off, meanwhile chiding the intern for taking too long of a break.
Taehyung barely had the chance to wiggle his headphones back in when he heard the unmistakable
voice of the intern rising.
“Sunbae, with all due respect I really don’t appreciate the way you talk to me.”
In an instant Taehyung snapped up from his screen, gaze falling upon a shell-shocked, speechless
Jongsuk across from a very fed-up, defiant intern; standing his ground, unyielding.
Perhaps this would be an awakening. Better late than never.
---
He couldn’t have picked a worse time of the year to go job hunting; monsoon season. August
roared in relentlessly, Seokjin embroiled in its fury as he scrambled from one end of the city to
another for interviews. All heat and rain, Seokjin feeling as though he could dissolve into steam.
Convincing disinterested strangers that you’re only second best to the coming of Jesus Christ
himself — it felt a little bit like torture, which meant his initial rounds of interviews were a bit of a
train-wreck. Stumbled through the process in a stuttering mess. It drained the life out of him.
After every rejection he returned to the Park-Jeon household with renewed determination, Jimin
and Jungkook eager to help, the three of them running through mock interviews which more often
than not resulted in fits of giggles, a terribly unproductive time. Yet somehow in the chaos he found
himself improving; marching into a room with feigned confidence, answering tough questions with
practiced finesse. Enough so that he made it to the final round of an up-and-coming tech company,
only to get rejected because they decided to hire internally.
But that’s okay, he consoled himself. You’ve made it this far.
For the better part of a summer he’d been sleeping on his friends’ couch, their home small but
warm, his days brighter because of it. Woven into the messiness was a quiet intimacy. Jungkook
would sometimes track dirt into the entryway after a run, and Jimin would always lecture him over
it, all nagging, never scathing. The kitchen could hardly contain them, shoulders bumping, flurries
of excuse me’s, spontaneous dance parties, sweat and heat. There were nights when they’d go out
on the town to let off some steam, other evenings spent in calm, in comfortable silence; Jimin
curled up in the couch corner, Seokjin planted on the other end, feet touching in the middle,
Jungkook belly-down on the hardwood floor.
It was September now. The weather still tired and muggy from the previous night’s storm, but
there’s a change coming, the weatherman said. Right around the corner. Jungkook was laying on
the floor again, rolling around like a cat in a pool of sunlight. He’d started work half an hour ago
and was already taking a break. “Wish you could live here forever,” he said out of the blue, very
casually, very easily, catching Seokjin off guard. He hadn’t cried since he left home and he was
hellbent on keeping it that way; at least not now, not in front of Jungkook.
He changed the subject instead.
“I have my final interview today.”
The boy on the ground shot up from his place, scooting towards Seokjin and giving him a loud
smack on the leg. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know you made it through the last
round.”
“I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
He could tell that Jungkook wanted to dive headfirst into a pep-talk, but what Seokjin said rang
tried and true; it was a scary thing, to hope.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fucking nervous.”
“When’s your interview?”
“Afternoon.”
“You got time for a run?”
“Always.”
Within minutes they changed into their running gear, laced up their sneakers and out the door they
went. The sky was a bit overcast, Hongdae shrouded in a pensive grey. On autopilot they ran a
couple laps around their block before setting off for the park, Jungkook doing most of the talking,
Seokjin responding with “Mm’s” and “Oh’s.”
They slowed to a stop upon reaching a familiar stretch of water, their waterfowl friends pruning
themselves on the far end of the pool. Upon spotting Jungkook’s signature gait they promptly
paddled in their direction, Jungkook already digging in his pocket for his baggy of rice.
“Wait a sec. Nuh uh. You don’t get this for free today,” he tutted as the ducks began flapping their
wings, making a fuss. “Your Seokjinnie hyung has an interview this afternoon, a big one. Wish him
good luck.”
More indignant flapping, a couple quacks for good measure.
“LOUDER, like you mean it!”
And because they were hungry and very tired of his games the ducks obliged, the honking and
quacking intensifying until Jungkook seemed satisfied with their response.
After paying homage to the duck gods they hurried back to the apartment, Seokjin taking a quick
shower then retrieving his best suit from the closet. A spritz of cologne and a couple of lucky
cufflinks later he stepped out of the room, pausing for dramatic effect, Jungkook peeling away
from his laptop to let out a wolf whistle.
“Damn. I’ll never get tired of looking at you.”
“Please shut up.”
“Good luck, okay?” Jungkook called after him. “You’ve got so many people rooting for you. Me
and like twenty ducks.”
“Thank you, I feel so assured.”
The walk to Line 2 averaged a brisk ten minutes, and on most days Seokjin thought nothing of it.
But that afternoon it began to drizzle, just as the weatherman predicted. Some light rain before
evening. Seokjin was fully prepared, retrieving the umbrella he’d borrowed from Jungkook and
shaking it open. Halfway through his walk the drizzle itensified into pouring rain. The station was
in view when the umbrella decided to give up, collapsing in on itself, the downpour drenching his
entire being.
It was an odd time of day, a couple hours shy of the evening rush, mostly students traversing
through the stuffy train station, shaking rain from their retracted umbrellas. He stepped onto the
train and ignored the empty seats, opting to lean against the door as rainwater dripped off of him
and onto the floor. A chill traveled up his spine thanks to the cold glass against the back of his head
and the icy gusts from the aircon.
He felt a nudge to his side and glanced down to see a grandmother looking up at him, her trembling
hand holding up a handkerchief, her face sporting a wrinkled smile.
“I’m okay, thank you,” he refused politely, but the older woman insisted, Seokjin eventually
accepting the neatly folded cloth and dabbing at the beads trickling down his face. It didn’t help
much in the grand scheme of his things, but he clutched onto the handkerchief for the rest of the
ride like his life depended on it.
The office building was just a couple blocks from the subway station, but still enough distance to
get further pummeled by the storm. I’m doomed, he thought to himself as he caught wind of his
reflection in the elevator mirror. Too late to back out; he’d already made it this far. He wrapped his
fist tightly around the flowery handkerchief, finding comfort in its touch, then tucked it inside his
suit pocket just before arriving at his designated floor.
A receptionist with bubblegum pink hair greeted him warmly, tapping the clipboard to sign in and
asking if he wanted anything to drink while he waited. Seokjin declined, settling himself into a
chair and admiring her hair color from afar. There were at least ten different names ahead of his on
the clipboard. He wondered how many of them were vying for the same position.
Not long after a woman with a certain air of command walked into the waiting area, stout and stern.
“Kim Seokjin?” He nodded, and the woman gestured for him to follow.
The woman didn’t make much attempt at small talk, giving Seokjin an opportunity to survey his
surroundings as they made their way towards her office. They passed masses of office workers,
most of them dressed very casually in t-shirts and jeans, a few of them smiling at Seokjin in
greeting. Laughter sounded from somewhere on the far end of the room, followed by what sounded
like a bark or two? Perhaps he was hallucinating. Nevertheless there was an undeniable chatter, a
happy buzz in the air that he took as a good sign.
Which only meant that it would be all the more devastating if — or when — he’d get rejected.
With a gentle click the door closed behind him, the woman sitting down behind a glass desk,
Seokjin mirroring her on the other side of it. She eyed his resume for a couple seconds before
pushing it aside and offering him a smile.
“You’re Kim Jinho’s son, aren’t you?”
He was still drying off from the rain. Perhaps he’d freeze over before he’d get the chance.
“Yes, yes I am.”
How does she know?
“I’m not sure if you remember, you might’ve been too young. Years ago I met you and your father
at a networking event in Yeouido. I think you might’ve still been in school, but I remember seeing
your face and meeting you briefly.”
He panicked, because clearly he didn’t remember her and it showed, plain as day. Racked his
brains furiously for a memory but nothing came to him. Part of him suspected that many
companies knew of his identity and likely rejected him because of it. Why would the heir to an
established corporation be sleuthing around for bottom feeder work? Even he admitted it was
strange from an objective standpoint, at least enough to rouse suspicion. Doomed, for sure, he
swallowed thickly, wanting to leave right there and then, but before he could open his mouth to
reply she was speaking again.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m surprised I even remembered. It was a long time ago, tons of people.
Good to see you again.”
“Likewise.”
The previous rounds leading up to this point had been grueling to say the least, but for the rest of
the interview the woman made no mention of the job in question, choosing instead to chat about
the best restaurants in the vicinity of their office, about the wild weather they were having — rain,
rain, so much rain. Showed him some photographs of her two dogs, a chocolate Pomeranian and a
Maltese with a perfectly rounded head. “We’re a dog friendly office,” she said. “Hope you don’t
mind.”
Hope you don’t mind. Don’t mind for today, or for the foreseeable future? He gripped at his pants
while feigning calm, “I don’t mind at all.”
“Great. Then I think you’ll like working here, Seokjin-ssi.”
It was still pouring when he stepped out of the lobby and onto the sidewalk outside. The umbrella
in his shoulder bag remained broken and useless, although the adrenaline coursing through his
veins told him he’d be just fine without one. He picked up into a light jog down the rain-laden
pavement, shoes sloshing through puddles, every inch of him soaked by the storm. If someone
asked him to dance in that moment he might’ve considered it. He settled for a foolish smile instead.
---
Jungkook was in the middle of a team call when Seokjin slipped through the front door, taking care
to close it discreetly and making a point to avoid Jungkook’s webcam. He tiptoed along the
peripheral of the apartment, Jungkook’s eyes widening upon seeing his drenched form.
“Yes boss,” he could hear Jungkook saying. “Sounds good. I’ll work on it and get it back to you
end of day. Mhm. Perfect. Thank you.”
Seconds later he was slamming the laptop shut, scurrying from his seat at the kitchen table to cage
Seokjin against the wall.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jungkook exclaimed, pulling Seokjin back by the shoulder to get
a better look. It was a pitiful sight.
“Your umbrella broke.”
“Yeah, I saw you grabbed the cheap one, no wonder.” A lingering pause as he sized up Seokjin’s
condition, unsure what to make of it. “So…so how did it go?”
For a moment, silence as Seokjin stared back at him with a blank expression, as empty of a look as
he could manage. But there in his eyes laid a hint of a smile, and Jungkook picked up on it right
away.
“No way.”
Seokjin nodded.
The next thing he knew Jungkook had grabbed onto his hands with a vice like grip, the two of
them jumping up and down in the living room in absolute mania, rainwater flying in every
direction, Seokjin wheezing with laughter and Jungkook screeching in victory. He pitied the
neighbors downstairs. To Seokjin’s knowledge they never complained, although they had every
right to do so.
“How do you want to celebrate?” Jungkook asked as Seokjin keeled over, catching his breath.
“Nothing really. Just wanna hang out with you guys, that’s all.”
“Bars? Clubbing?”
“No, no. Something lowkey.”
“Humble and sexy,” Jungkook commented offhandedly. “How ‘bout this. You wanna do BBQ
proper? I can make it way better than any restaurant.”
“Bold claim. I’ll hold you to it.”
The storm cleared in the afternoon, Seokjin and Jungkook venturing out to buy groceries at the
nearest mart. Stocked up on an assortment of marinated meats and side dishes, almost too much for
the two to carry home.
“I thought we agreed to keep this lowkey.”
“This IS lowkey. This is chill,” Jungkook protested, grabbing another head of lettuce. “So to
clarify, you want it to be just me and Jimin? What about the other guys?”
Namjoon was still in America, Yoongi somewhere in Japan last he checked. Hoseok was in Seoul,
but with how much he was working it certainly didn’t feel like it.
“If Hobi’s free. I feel bad bothering him though.”
“Let’s ask.”
It was when they arrived home, in the middle of loading items into the fridge that Seokjin felt a
slight buzz in his pocket.
Hobi: YAHHHHHHH CONGRATULATIONS MY MAN
Hobi: I’m gonna try and leave work early today! :) :) WE GOTTA CELEBRATE >:D :D :D :D
Seokjin: Thanks Hobah. You really don’t have to, I appreciate it though~
Hobi: NONSENSE!?!?!?! This is HUGE i have to be there >:) <3333333333333333
Hoseok never left work early, but for him he would try to. Something warm flooded Seokjin’s
chest, pushing tears to the surface once again, Seokjin using all of his might to press them back
down.
Jimin hurried home later that evening armed with cases of alcohol, promptly ripping off his tie
upon entry and hurtling himself at Seokjin, his small yet mighty stature nearly toppling him over.
With comical urgency he plugged his phone into the speakers, dialing to his kpop playlist until a
very bubbly pop tune was blasting through their apartment, Jimin expertly showing off bits and
pieces of the choreography, Jungkook clumsily joining in on the side. The world had changed and
turned, leaves from green to gold. In many ways they had grown along with it, and in other ways
they hadn’t. Seokjin was grateful for the latter.
They set up the grill on the living room coffee table, banchan splayed out in a ceremonious circle
around it, Jimin switching on all the fans and opening the windows for ventilation.
“This room is going to smell like meat for a while,” he mumbled. “Sorry in advance, Seokjin-ah.”
“Why would you be sorry about that.”

“When’s Hobi coming again?” Jungkook asked, eyeing the food with an intense yearning. As if on
cue his stomach growled in protest.
“He said seven,” Jimin replied, cracking open the plastic box of spicy pork belly.
“It’s past seven.”
“Only by ten minutes,” Jimin teased. “Why, you can’t wait any longer?”
“I can,” Jungkook pouted, shoulders slumping.
“Fine, fine. Let’s get a couple pieces started while we wait.”
The meat hit the grill with a satisfying sizzle, Seokjin immediately craving beer and beelining for
the six-pack of Kloud. Popped the lids off of three bottles, glasses clinking as they raised their
beers in unison.
“To Seokjin—” Jimin began, only to be interrupted by the front door bursting open, followed by a
deafening screech.
“STARTING WITHOUT ME?” Hoseok bellowed, he too with a shopping bag dangling from his
fingers.
“You’re LATE.”
“For good reason. I had to pick up something along the way.”
“Nice. What’d you get?”
“This?” Hoseok lifted the bag in hand. “Fruit. All different kinds. That’s not what held me up
though.” Stepping aside from the doorway, they watched as a familiar figure emerged from the
shadows, Yoongi squinting blearily in the bright light of the foyer.
He couldn’t help but laugh the moment he laid eyes on his old friend. Surely this was his worst
nightmare come alive, Jimin and Jungkook ambushing him in a frenzy, Yoongi resisting in misery
all the while fighting off a hint of a smile.
“I thought you were in Japan?” Seokjin rose to his feet to give him a one-armed hug.
“Yeah, I saw your Instagram last night,” Jungkook huffed. “Why didn’t you tell us you were back?
I feel so betrayed.”
“I just flew back this afternoon, give me a break.”
“How’d you know he was back, Hobi?”
“My mom visited his mom this afternoon and said he was home,” Hoseok cackled proudly, setting
the fruit down on the counter and joining them in the living room. “So after work I went to his
place and dragged him out here.”
Yoongi lingered behind the back of the couch like a wet cat, as if being in this very room was the
bane of his existence. But Seokjin knew his friend long enough to see through his act. Knew that if
he really didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t.
“Come on, you,” he chuckled, pushing Yoongi closer to the grill. “Maybe some food will make
you happy.”
At first the conversation revolved largely around Seokjin; a flurry of congratulations and pats on
the back, questions about his new company, a lot of how are you feeling? All of it overwhelming in
a wonderful way, albeit Seokjin ready to steer the topic elsewhere. Eventually, thankfully, it
diverted to Yoongi’s travels, the boy reminiscing on his time in Japan with unparalleled bliss. He
spoke of the quiet countrysides he traveled through, how he preferred them far more than the big
cities. Gushed over the Yufuin onsens, hot springs surrounded by snowy mountain peaks. His
shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but his face radiated with satisfaction.
“What’s next for you?” Jimin asked. “Gonna rest a little more or...?”
“Yeah. Rest at home for now, maybe slowly look for jobs. I’m in no rush.”
“Smart. I wish I took a break before starting work.”
“You can,” Yoongi said softly. “I mean…you can take a break any time you want, Jimin-ah. Don’t
push yourself too much.”
A thoughtful hum. “True.”
They talked late into the night despite it being a weekday. Drank to their hearts content, even
climbed to the roof to enjoy the evening breeze. The rainclouds had peeled back to reveal a big
yellow moon. “Looks like cheese,” Seokjin murmured, slightly buzzed from the liquor. Suddenly
he felt very young, like he was seeing the world for the first time.
The heavy scent of barbecue lingered indeed, even with all the fans on high and the windows wide
open. It was close to midnight when Hoseok finally excused himself, citing an early morning the
next day, Yoongi quickly following suit and muttering something about beauty sleep. Saying
goodbye in itself took thirty minutes, Seokjin a bit drained by the ordeal but grateful nonetheless.
The door closed so that only the three of them remained, the trio settling into a comfortable routine,
clearing the dishes and wiping down tables, sorting leftovers into tupperware. When all was said
and done they migrated to the living room, Seokjin and Jungkook collapsing on the couch, Jimin
preoccupied with getting rid of the smell, waving his hands about as if guiding the air towards the
windows. All the while Jungkook was watching him with a sickeningly smitten look plastered
across his face. Jimin was cute, Seokjin acknowledged — but not that cute.
“I’m gonna shower, get this smell off of me,” Jimin announced. “I’ll be back.”
Seokjin waited until he heard the sound of water hitting the bathroom floor to break his silence.
“So when were you going to tell me you’re in love with him?”
He’d caught Jungkook mid-chug, water spraying everywhere.

“H-How did you...”
“You aren’t that slick. Even if I didn’t hear you guys being lovey-dovey every morning I would’ve
figured it out by the way you look at him. Unless it’s just a…roommate thing.”
This was a side of Jungkook he’d never seen before. Cheeks red, lip bitten, shy as a flower. Seokjin
guessed that Jimin had seen plenty of it.
A breathy chuckle escaped from his lips. “That obvious, huh?”
“Can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
“I figured you had an idea, to be honest,” Jungkook mumbled, hands running up and down the
length of his heated face. “I didn’t know that you knew.”
“Not until I moved in.”
“God. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that every morning. I didn’t realize.” He shot a furtive
glance in Seokjin’s direction. “Pretty gross, isn’t it?”
He’d never meant to eavesdrop. It was simply an unfortunate combination of one very light sleeper
and two lovesick idiots that were louder than they realized. Some of the things they said to each
other were indeed ridiculous. “I miss you already,” Jungkook would whisper, even though they
slept in the same bed every night. “Can you FaceTime me during lunch so I can see you?” Jimin
would reply, as if they wouldn’t see each other for a long time. Seokjin should’ve been grossed out,
by all means, but he wasn’t. He was happy.
“Just don’t do anything in front of me and we’re good.”
A pleasant hush fell over them as Jungkook toyed with a stray thread on a cushion, the bottom of
Seokjin’s feet gently pressed against his thigh.
“I think I’m in love.”

His voice shook as he spoke, yet he’d never sounded so certain. Seokjin’s heart twisted at his
words, tender and true, like petals unfurling.
“How long have I been third wheeling for?”
He leaned his head on the back of the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling above, a low hum sounding
from his throat. “When did this start,” Jungkook murmured. Very soft, very gentle.
“I mean in high school we were just friends, truly. We weren’t that close in middle school. Jimin’s
always been smart, always top of our class and I don’t know…I thought he’d be stuck up because
of it. It wasn’t until high school…you know, when Tae did that stupid thing with the rubber band,
and Jimin stood up for you guys and ended up in detention…I was like whoa, okay. He’s not at all
who I thought he was.”
Seokjin remembered that moment vividly. Cold night, dead leaves and cobwebs, the memory
nevertheless gilded by light.
“So yeah. We got close in high school but we were really just friends, no bullshit. I’d never liked
anyone before. I knew Jimin experimented a bit, both guys and girls. He wasn’t ashamed of it but
he didn’t talk about it much either.”
True. Jimin was always tight-lipped on personal matters.
“Going to university together felt kinda like high school all over again but like…on crack. How do
I explain it. Like suddenly we had all this free time that we didn’t before and we could do
everything we’d ever wanted. Of course we met new people, made other friends but at least for
me…I just wanted to spend all my time with him. We were stuck together like glue. You know this
more than anyone. And when we heard you got your own apartment, that got us thinking. We
wanted a place of our own, too. So we somehow found this dump and moved off campus.”
“Oh yeah, I remember,” Seokjin cackled. “I was shocked when you guys told me.”
“Right? Like I never thought…I never thought Jimin and I would…anyway. We knew the space
was small and that the bedroom barely fit one bed. But the two of us were too excited to have our
own place that we didn’t care. So what if it’s just one bed. No big deal.”
Seokjin had a hunch as to where this was going.
“The problem is…” Jungkook hesitated before licking his lips, stifling a laugh. “The first winter
we moved in, the heater wasn’t working very well. It was freezing at night, and Jimin gets cold
easily so…naturally…we uh…you know, huddled together for warmth. LISTEN. Shut up, Jin.
Stop smiling like that. Anyway. I run hot, and at one point he asked me to hold him because I’m a
human furnace. And the two of us used to wrestle all the time and it was never a big deal so I was
like sure, let’s do it. Didn’t think it would be any different. Except it was. Something…something
about that night shifted everything for me.”
That feeling, he knew it full well.
“Suddenly I was aware of everything. How good his hair smelled. How soft his skin was against
mine, how small he felt in my arms. He had his face buried into my chest. I was freaking out. Tried
to slow my breathing so that my heart wouldn’t beat too fast. I remember thinking wow, I could do
this for the rest of my life and it’ll never get old. I’ll never get tired of this.”
“You’re a romantic, Jeon Jungkook.”
“Apparently I am. I didn’t realize until Jimin.”
“Did Jimin feel the same way?”
“So here’s the thing. I was dumb and I didn’t realize I liked him right then and there. Brushed it off
as me being lonely. But moments like this kept happening and it was almost like Jimin wanted me
to suffer. I thought I was losing my mind. At one point I debated on moving out.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because as much as he tortured me, I couldn’t get enough.”
“Dumb.”
“Then one night in our sophomore year, a bunch of our friends asked us to go clubbing, so we
went. All of us had just finished exams and we wanted to really party it up, go crazy. Jimin for
some reason showed up looking super fucking hot, like UNREAL, Jin you have NO idea the
power he holds, it’s terrifying. The second he gets on the dance floor and starts moving all these
girls and guys too are going up to him, trying to get with him but he’s rejecting every single one.
That’s when he grabs me by the hands, pulls me towards him and we start dancing.”
Seokjin leaned forward in his seat, fully invested.
“At first it’s all fun and games, but the beat gets really down and dirty and Jimin starts getting
super close and the next thing I know we’re basically grinding. I’m kinda drunk and definitely
turned on but my stupid brain is still like, friends do this, right?”
The idea of Jungkook doing this with any of their other friends was ludicrous, Seokjin cackling
uncontrollably at the thought of it.
“Can you shut up? Anyway. It gets hot and heavy, blah blah blah, I tell him I wanna go home, he
says sure. We get in the car and it’s the longest fucking car ride of my life, because neither of us
know what we’re gonna do next. Until the moment we get home and neither of us bother to turn on
the lights because the second the door closes I’ve got him up against the wall and…” He trailed
off, too embarrassed to share the rest.
“My fucking god. What was I doing on this glorious night.”
“Blissfully unaware that Jimin and I lost our v-card to each other,” Jungkook supplied without
missing a beat, Seokjin’s jaw going slack in surprise.
“That’s when it starts, the hooking up. We’d been great at communicating up until then, and then
suddenly we weren’t. We never talked about our feelings, just kept…doing it. We did it
everywhere. It was a wild time, I’m telling you. There, over there, here,” he patted the couch
wistfully, Seokjin grimacing in horror and shrinking against the armrest. “That’s how we found out
this is a pull-out couch.”
“Please don’t go into details, I beg of you.”
“Another day,” Jungkook promised. “But you of all people know how scary it is, to fall for a
friend. For the longest time we were in this weird limbo of like…are we friends? Are we more?
What are we? For some reason it was terrifying to put a label on it because like…what if it didn’t
work out? We’d lose everything and go back to zero. Not gonna lie, I saw all the ups and downs
you and Taehyung went through and it paralyzed me. I didn’t want the same thing to happen with
me and Jimin. I couldn’t lose him. I was in love with him but I didn’t want him to know.”
It saddened him, to hear Taehyung’s name. Broke him even more knowing Jungkook was quietly
watching from the sidelines.
“We kept up this facade for a long time, dancing around the elephant in the room. That is…until
we graduated, and we started working.”
“Oh.”
“Suddenly we didn’t have all the time in the world anymore. For the first time since I could
remember we were spending most of our days apart. There were nights where he’d come home and
I’d be dead asleep, then I’d wake up and he’d be gone again. It sucked. It honestly sucked ass. I
missed him. I hated adult life.”
“I’ll be honest…and don’t judge me for this. I would get super jealous if he ever spent his free
time with other people. Now it’s not like that, of course, now that we’ve cleared the air. But back
then everything was muddled and it made me insecure and I think I took it out on him. Like if he
ever went clubbing instead of coming home right away, it hurt. I tried not to be an ass about it but I
was, and I don’t know if you know this about Jimin but man he’s scary when he’s angry. We
started fighting even though we’d never really fought before. It was awful.”
Seokjin had never seen angry Jimin, only heard stories through the grapevine, a thing of legends.
He wanted to keep it that way.
“Not too long before you moved in we had a massive fight. He’d gone out to hwaesik and stayed
out really late on a Friday night. I also went to hwaesik with my coworkers, but I actually left early
hoping I’d get to spend some time with Jimin at home. He didn’t come back till five in the
morning. ‘Blowing off steam,’ he said. The moment he returned we started going at it again. He
was tired, very tipsy and I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. We were screaming. I’m
surprised the neighbors didn’t complain. At one point Jimin asked me, WHY ARE YOU THIS
MAD? IT’S NOT LIKE WE’RE TOGETHER. And you know what I said?”
“What did you say?”

“BUT I WANT TO BE!” Jungkook mouthed, giggling in spite of himself. “Can you believe I said
that? I said it with my whole chest. I want to be with you. That’s when the both of us were like oh
shit, this is happening.”
“My god.”
“Jimin started crying and I felt like absolute shit. We stopped yelling and he actually said to me, ‘I
didn’t think you wanted me.’ Then I started crying too because…I feel awful that I ever made him
feel that way.”
“Wow.”
“I know. Like Jin, I don’t think you understand how much I mean it when I say I love him. I
haven’t liked anyone before but somehow I’m in love with Jimin. Isn’t life strange.”
“What is it about him?” Seokjin asked, curious.
“What isn’t there to love?” Jungkook grinned, silly and smitten. “Have you seen him? Everything
he does is cute, sexy, lovely. Don’t get me wrong, there’s sides to him that aren’t so pretty. Ones
that you haven’t seen, probably never will.”
“Like what?”
“He’s messier than he lets on. He gets jealous too, but unlike me he won’t show it. Stubborn as
hell. When he’s made up his mind it’s impossible to change it. He takes care of everyone but you
know that when it comes to me, I’m the one that babies him?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Not that that’s a bad thing. I love taking care of him. That’s the thing about Jimin. No matter
what he gives me, a warm hug or a cold shoulder I take it all in stride. I’ll take whatever I can get
from him. I love him.”
“I believe you.”
“Anyway. From that moment on—” Jungkook paused, taking a large gulp of water and wiping
away the excess. “From that moment on we decided we’d be together, no looking back.”
“So it hasn’t been very long, the two of you being official.”
“Not really, no. Maybe that’s why we’re so mushy. It’s so freeing, to be able to express myself
fully to him. To tell him he’s pretty, that I adore him, to hold him with intention, to make him feel
loved.”
“Jimin never told me about you two,” Seokjin said. “Never even hinted at it. But from the way he
speaks of you, the way he looks at you…” He trailed off into a nod instead, Jungkook
understanding in full and beaming back at him.
“I’m so lucky, aren’t I?
“You both are.”
The water in the bathroom was still running. It worked to his favor that Jimin took such lengthy
showers. There was so much more that Seokjin wanted to know.
“In a way I envy you and Taehyung,” Jungkook cleared his throat nervously. “Yeah, you two went
through a lot of shit together. But at this point you’ve both got it figured out. You’ve got your
ducks in a row, he’s got his ducks sorted. It all comes down to ducks. Speaking of which we’ve got
to thank them tomorrow. But when you see each other again there will be nothing holding you
back, you know that? How wonderful is that?”
When, he’d said. Not if.
“For Jimin and I…yeah we’re happy now, we’re on cloud nine, but fuck, I have no idea what the
future holds. We can pretend to be roommates forever but what about when our parents start
pressuring us to marry? What do we say then? How long can we carry on like this? Will we even
be together when that time comes? I want to be. I want this to work, but I don’t know if it will.
These thoughts creep into my mind and it drives me a little crazy sometimes. I’m scared, Jin.
Really fucking scared.”
Seokjin couldn’t blame him. He’d walked in his shoes for a long time.
“But being with Jimin is worth it. Every second I get with him I’m convinced, he makes everything
worth it…even the scary things. So I try not to worry about tomorrow and just enjoy what we’ve
got today. I know there will come a time where we’ll have to deal with shit the same way you did.
For now I just want to be happy together.”
“And that’s okay. You guys will figure it out together.”
Jungkook smiled at him. Seokjin smiled back.
The shower came to a stop with a squeak of the faucet. Jimin would be in there for a little while
longer thanks to his meticulous skincare routine.
He knew all of their subconscious quirks and habits now, thanks to crashing on their couch for the
last three months. Knew that Jimin really took his time in the bathroom, that Jungkook hated
wearing pants, preferred to walk around in his underwear. Knew that Jungkook was a little messier
but Jimin could be forgetful too, like leaving the light on if he was in a rush. Little details that
weren’t too important in the grand scheme of things yet it felt like an honor to know them, to have
been invited into their life so intimately. Part of him didn’t want to leave.
“Now that I have a job, I’m going to move out.”
Jungkook gawked at him in utter disbelief.
“WHAT? The fuck you mean—”
“I’m going to have an income again. I’ll be able to afford a place. I have enough money saved for a
down payment…once I start working I’ll have enough money for rent. I’ll get out of your hair as
soon as I can.”
“What if I don’t want you to get out of my hair?” Jungkook shifted so that he was fully facing
Seokjin, clearly distraught. “What if I want you to stay in it?”
“What are you saying.”
“Can’t you stay?”
“I can’t.”
“Don’t you like living here?”
An exasperated sigh escaped from his lips. How could the thought even cross Jungkook’s mind?
“Are you kidding me? I’ve loved living here.” Voice strained, thinking back on the refuge his
friends had created for him. “But I’ve got to get on with my own life, and you guys do too.”
“Is it uncomfortable, the couch?” Jungkook pressed. “We can alternate if you want. We’ll rotate.
The bed isn’t too bad. It’s not as nice as the one you had at your apartment but it’s—”
“Jungkook-ah. How are you and Jimin going to get it on if I’m here all the time.”
This gave Jungkook enough pause for thought. “Oh.”
“Exactly. I don’t want to be around for any of that.”
It was quiet for a moment as Jungkook slowly accepted the reality of Seokjin’s imminent
departure, of the next chapter in the new life he was building for himself. Rather abruptly the boy
looked up from his lap, locking eyes with Seokjin with an uncharacteristic intensity.
“You know I love you, right?”
Seokjin blinked back, tips of his ears burning, cheeks flushed pink. He could always count on
Jungkook to throw him a curveball.
“Why this, all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t think I’ve ever told you before. I know Jimin probably tells you all the
time. He’s good at this stuff. I’m not the best. But I hope you can tell that…that I do care…in other
ways. And if you couldn’t, then I guess I just wanted you to know.”
Seokjin could see it clear as day. In the way Jungkook hyped him up for every interview. The way
he’d come lay next to him on the couch, even if they didn’t speak, just a comforting presence. How
the two of them could laugh over just about anything, floaty giggles, breathless like summer. He’d
seen it for a long time, this quiet love that carried him on his most tired days. Without warning he
felt his eyes fog over, vision blurring as tears threatened to spill forth. Not today, he vowed to
himself. Not now.
Blinking back his tears, he looked off cooly to the side. “I love you too,” he mumbled. Very
casual, chic.
[ ♪ Spring Day - Inst. ]
The door of the bathroom swung open, Jimin emerging from swirls of hot steam, body swimming
in a large tee, hair still damp, skin glowing. He smiled sweetly at the pair on the couch as he
ruffled his hair with a small towel around his neck.
“What are you two whispering about.”
“Babe please. We’re having a moment,” Jungkook smirked. “Seokjin just told me he loves me.”
The blonde stopped in his tracks, facing them menacingly with his hands on his hips.
“Excuse me?”
“Just now, he said it.”
Jimin was now looming threateningly over him, beads of shower water dripping onto the couch,
onto Seokjin’s forehead.
“And what about me?”
“What about you?” Seokjin jested.
The next thing he knew he was being tackled, Jimin wrestling him onto the couch, Jungkook
doubled over on the side, wheezing. “Tell me you love me too!” Jimin screeched as he shook
Seokjin by the front of his shirt. The motion made him dizzy, see stars, but his mind was very
clear. Of course he loved Jimin. It was Jimin who filled him with love in the first place.
He loved them both, in fact, the way the moon loved the sea. Pulling the tides towards itself,
holding them close. He hoped that when they were old, when the world would inevitably change
even more — perhaps beyond recognition — that they wouldn’t. That they would stay this way,
doing life together, grey hairs and all.
“You’ll stay with me for a long time, right?”
“What are you even saying.”
“Promise me you won’t leave me.”
“Why would I.”
“We’ll do life together, right?”
“If you want to then sure, yeah.”
“And we’ll grow old together, grey hairs and all?”
Chapter End Notes

When I was at the lowest of my lows, a good friend of mine basically took me in. For
over half a year I crashed on the futon in her studio apartment. There were weeks on
end where I wouldn't step foot outside. She'd come and go for work but she always let
me stay.
I'm in a much better place now...physically, mentally, emotionally. Just last week she
came over to my house after quitting her job and we spent the week together doing
nothing. Eating simple home-cooked meals, watching Untamed, taking evening walks,
looking at flowers in the garden. The most beautiful moments in life are spent with
extraordinary people doing ordinary things.
To my dear friend L, with whom I have zero selfies but a lifetime of gratitude and
love, thank you for accepting me as I am, whether it be broken or whole. Not once
have I deserved you. Now it's your time to heal. <3
Anyway let's hop off the sap train. HELLO readers, thank you for sticking with this fic
through thick and thin, for your patience and encouragement along the way. It's almost
over! D:
The italicized dialogue at the end, I hope you guys remember where it's from. :) If not
feel free to ask!
Please let me know what you think in the comments, I always respond. Take care until
next time.
Part 3
Chapter Notes
Thank you for your patience. <3
October
Of the numerous apartments he toured there was one in particular that caught his eye, one that left
his friends a tad perplexed but nevertheless supportive. The building sat on the outskirts of
Hongdae, a ten minute walk from the Park-Jeon complex (a huge incentive for Seokjin, but he’d
never admit it). Nestled above a cafe that had changed ownership far too many times to keep track,
it was a tiny old thing, tired and sagging. But he loved how the sunlight warmed the wooden
floorboards throughout the day, and that was enough for him to submit a down payment and shake
hands on the lease.
Jimin and Jungkook made a big fuss over Seokjin moving out, despite his new home being a mere
stone’s throw away. Ignoring his fervent protests they insisted on helping him with the move,
stuffing his boxes and suitcases into the back of a cab and piling into the backseat like sardines.
The entire two minute car ride he sat sandwiched between a very serious Jimin and Jungkook,
Seokjin stifling a laugh at the sight of them.
They carried his meager belongings to his unit in two quick trips, shoving everything through the
doorway of Seokjin’s bedroom. “I can take it from here,” he said, only to be cut off by Jungkook
ripping the boxes apart with his bare hands.
His essentials were unpacked first, coffee maker and grounds, skincare products, cups and plates.
Seokjin’s mattress had arrived just the day before via courier, but the bed frame was yet to be
delivered, the mattress sitting directly on the floor with a flimsy bedsheet stretched over it.
“Yah, Jin. You sure you don’t want to crash on our couch for one more night?”
“I’m fine, really,” Seokjin assured Jimin. “I think I’m just pumped to have my own place.”
“Okay. Let me know if you change—”

“I have to poop,” Jungkook announced loudly. “Do you have toilet paper?”
“There should be a roll in there, yeah.”
With Seokjin’s blessing Jungkook jumped to his feet and waddled out of the room, closing the
bathroom door with a muted click. A pleasant hush fell over the room, Jimin fondly watching
Seokjin as he dug through the contents of his box, retrieving from it a cluster of plastic hangers,
dirtied running shoes, and a miniature Christmas tree speckled with multicolored lights.
“You still have that?” Jimin asked softly.
“Yeah,” Seokjin mumbled, carefully unwinding the ugly brown cord and setting the tree on the
windowsill, its plastic branches rattling noisily in the process. Plugging the cord into the outlet,
they watched as the once dead bulbs sputtered to life, Seokjin somehow very pleased by its tacky
display.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Seokjin grinned, lifting his phone to take a picture of it.
Jimin was looking at Seokjin. “Mhm.”
In exchange for Jimin and Jungkook’s gracious assistance, Seokjin agreed to a night of debauchery
to commemorate the occasion. As soon as the last box was cleared, the trio hurried back to the
Park-Jeon apartment, each of them hurriedly changing into something a little glitzier. Seokjin and
Jungkook matching per usual in dark jeans and black tees, Jimin disappearing into the bathroom
and re-emerging with an outfit that put both of theirs to shame.
“You always have to one-up us,” Seokjin scowled as Jungkook simply gawked, speechless.
They hopped onto an Itaewon-bound train, the length of it buzzing with the excitement of weekend
party-goers, Seokjin’s pulse rising in tandem to the rhythm of the city. Butterflies fluttered in the
pit of his stomach, Seokjin masking his nerves with a small smile as he listened to his friends
bicker by his side.
Upon exiting the station they were greeted by cold night air and a very exuberant Hoseok waiting
for them at the top of the stairs. “Kids!” He screeched, scooping each of them up into bone-
crushing hugs. “Yah Park Jimin, did you have to make us look bad?” He chided, spinning Jimin in
a circle to show off his look.
“You should see me when I try,” he retorted with a wink.
The signage of the establishment was subtle, but the crowd surrounding it was unapologetically
not. A mass of queer men inched forward in queue, with only a handful of women scattered
between them. Several of the men managed to catch Seokjin’s eye as he scanned the line leading to
the entrance, his cheeks instantly alighting in flame. His friends however marched up to the end of
the line with unbothered confidence, Seokjin following suit and hoping to blend in.
The inside of the club was all heat and no air, pounding of the bass reverberating through the
darkened room, adrenaline spiking and pumping through his veins. They squeezed past a sea of
sweat-slicked bodies towards the bar in the back, Hoseok buying the first round of shots before
pushing them onto the dance floor.
Part of him feared that he’d have to bear witness to Jimin and Jungkook’s PDA, but the four of
them kept it a group affair, moving wildly to the trance-like beat, drunk on the music and buzzed
on liquor. A couple of brave souls approached them, largely in pursuit of Jimin, the boy waving
them off good-naturedly and throwing an arm around Jungkook’s waist each time. If Hoseok had
caught on by now, he certainly didn’t let it show.
They lost track of time, Seokjin soon drenched in perspiration but not minding the feeling of it.
Usually he didn’t take well to crowds, but this time such company wasn’t overwhelming; rather,
humanizing. At some point in the night Hoseok excused himself to get another drink, Jimin and
Jungkook opting to stay on the dance floor, Seokjin deciding that he was due for a bathroom
break.
He wove through the club-goers until he slipped into a dim hallway housing the bathrooms,
Seokjin pushing past the door, the music quickly snuffed to a murmur. Beelining for the sinks, he
considered splashing water on his face, only to pause in his place to get a good look at his
reflection. Hair in disarray, strands plastered to his skin, beads of sweat dripping down rose-flushed
cheeks. Without realizing it, he was smiling. Smiling and thinking to himself: god, you look a
fucking mess right now. But he’d also never felt this beautiful.
His thoughts were interrupted by the loud clang of a stall, a patron stepping out of it and heading
towards the sinks as well, catching wind of Seokjin’s surprised expression and flashing him a
reassuring smile. Suddenly he was very aware of the rest of the bathroom being empty, Seokjin’s
heart drumming furiously against his chest, wondering if the other man could hear it from a couple
sinks away.
Through the mirror the two managed to lock eyes again, Seokjin averting his gaze just as the man
opened his mouth as if to say something. In a bit of a panic Seokjin turned on his heel, slipping
back out into the stuffy atmosphere, the smells and sounds of the club flooding his senses once
more.
Whatever that was, he wasn’t quite ready for it.
Jimin and Jungkook were going strong on the dance floor, perhaps leaning a little closer than
before but still keeping it PG-13. Jung Hoseok was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Hobi?” He
yelled over the clamor, to which Jungkook gestured towards the bar, where their friend was
presently chatting it up with a cluster of muscular men.
“Is he…?”
“No way, not Hobi,” Jungkook cackled. “Just likes talking too much.”
“Want me to bring him back?”
“Let him be,” Jimin smiled. “Maybe he’ll ditch us again, like he always does.”
“I’m gonna grab another drink then. You guys want anything?”
“We’re good.”
The journey towards the bar was rife with chaos, drunkards stumbling over their own feet, Seokjin
swaying precariously as he maneuvered past them. He could almost see the fluorescent glow of the
bar countertop when he felt himself slam into another body, both of them reeling backwards,
Seokjin offering a flustered “Sorry!” before plowing onwards.
But within seconds he felt a hand grab onto his shoulder and spin him around, Seokjin stiffening in
their grasp, fight or flight kicking into high gear as he feared for the worst. It was to his pleasant
surprise when the face staring back at him wasn’t angry; happy, in fact, and exceptionally
beautiful.
The boy staring back at him was also sweating profusely, although his sweat sat upon his skin like
glitter, sparkling under the strobe lights. Pretty. The prettiest face he’d ever seen, although a
nagging feeling told him he’d seen it before, Seokjin’s mind working furiously to procure a name.
For a brief moment the two merely ogled at each other, half smiles playing at their lips when
finally the boy lifted his hands to form the shape of a camera, all of it clicking together in an
instant.
“Hong Kong?”
“YES.”
“Oh my GOD.”
They burst into laughter at the same time, Seokjin’s jaw going slack in disbelief, Eunwoo beaming
sweetly back at him, moon eyes. The guy Eunwoo had been grinding with just moments ago stood
off to the side, forgotten. Eventually the stranger turned away in a huff, off to find another hook-up
that wasn’t so distracted.
“Of all places, really?” Eunwoo tutted.
So he had been flirting on the ferry. Seokjin wasn’t imagining things.
“Do you come here often?” Seokjin asked, cringing inwardly once he realized how oily it sounded.
“You could say I’m a regular. You?”
“First time. I’m with friends,” he pointed towards Jimin and Jungkook, who were now joined by a
very tipsy, giddy Hoseok. Jimin had somehow spotted Seokjin in the sea of people and was
scrutinizing him with heightened curiosity.
“I came here with my roommate. I think he’s a little busy though,” Eunwoo nodded towards the far
wall, where two figures were passionately intertwined in the shadows.
“I see,” Seokjin murmured, heat creeping to his cheeks. “Anyway. I can’t believe…Eun-Eunwoo,
right?”
“Of course, Seokjin-ssi. I can’t believe you hesitated just now.”
“I remembered though! That’s what counts.”
“I’ll let you off the hook for it,” Eunwoo smirked. “Do you remember anything else though?”
“About…Hong Kong?”
“You promised me a drink and you never delivered.”
A small gasp as Seokjin nodded in affirmation. “Ahh, shit. I did, I’m sorry.” He tilted his head
towards the packed bar. “Come on. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Wanna get out of here instead? I’m kinda bored of this place.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Someplace where we can talk properly.”
The proposition of peace and quiet did sound nice. And it was true that Seokjin owed him a drink,
a broken promise. Without giving it further thought he motioned towards the exit, he and Eunwoo
leaving side by side, Seokjin catching a glimpse of Jimin’s shocked expression as he stepped out of
the double doors.
[“Seoulmates” group chat]

Jimin: What the FUCK!?!?!?!??!?!
Jungkook: GET SOME
Jungkook:
The two lingered on the sidewalk, Eunwoo searching for a new destination, Seokjin hastily texting
his friends back with a silent scowl.
Seokjin: Nooooo it’s not like that. >:(
Seokjin: Ran into an old friend
Jungkook: FRIEND
Jungkook: Just like how Jimin and I are ROOMMATES
Jimin: Shut up
Seokjin: Ditto
“How about this place?” Eunwoo asked, showing Seokjin a picture of a very classy looking wine
bar only 0.5 kilometers away.
“Sure.”
The night air was chilly but not cold, a certain autumnal bite to it. Eunwoo seemed to know the
neighborhood well, navigating the winding streets of Itaewon with confidence. The conversation
flowed naturally, Eunwoo being the more extroverted of the pair, Seokjin gladly letting him take
the lead. Down a small slope they went, the establishments on either side gradually mellowing out
into a different kind of crowd, still busy but muted. They came to a stop at the storefront of a quaint
bar, all of its doors and windows open onto the street, half of its tables occupied by patrons
speaking in hushed, rosy tones.
Seokjin and Eunwoo sat themselves down at the bar, ordering some small plates and glasses of
wine, the atmosphere stark different from where they came. “Keep the tab open?” The bartender
asked as Seokjin handed over his card. “Mm.” Eunwoo seemed very pleased.
“After I texted you, you never texted me back,” he cut straight to the chase, Seokjin nearly spitting
out his drink.
“Sorry. I’m not the best texter.”
“Mhm. I’ve heard that one before,” Eunwoo narrowed his eyes at Seokjin from over his glass.
Seokjin remembered him being very friendly in Hong Kong, but here in Seoul — home turf — he
was vibrating on a different frequency. It was mildly terrifying. For a moment Seokjin studied the
younger, unsure as to whether this was just his personality or if there was something more behind
his coy smile. Nevertheless the elder cleared his throat, decidedly steering them towards safer
territory.
“So. What’s been happening with you since we last talked?” Seokjin asked. “You still in school?”
“My last semester,” Eunwoo replied, not minding the change in topic. “I did a short internship over
the summer and it absolutely crushed my soul. My mentor was an absolute ass. Luckily not
everyone at the office was like him. But yeah. After this semester I’m graduating, and I’m scared
of the real world. So I’m partying like crazy instead of studying.”
Seokjin opened his mouth to reprimand him, only to remember that he wasn’t exactly a stellar
student in university either.
“Sorry you had a shitty experience.”
“Yeah. A nice sunbae at work told me not every workplace is gonna be like that, so I’m holding
onto hope that he’s right.”
“Your sunbae is right. It’s not all bad.”
“He was cute, too. I wanted to ask him out.”
“Did you?”
“No. I think he shut me down in the nicest way possible.”

Seokjin let out a laugh. “Such a no nonsense guy, your sunbae.”
“I think you would’ve liked him,” Eunwoo swished his merlot in tiny circles. “He was kind and
beautiful, just like you.” He spoke such words so casually as if it was fact, not opinion. “What
about you? Any changes since I last saw you?”
Only that his life had flipped upside down since. But Seokjin answered rather simply, “I changed
jobs.” Eunwoo widened his eyes in surprise.
“Very nice. You like your new job better?”
“Loads. It pays a lot less and it’s an entry level position but I’m happier. Much happier.”
“That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”
It was refreshing to spend time with someone outside of his usual circle, especially someone as
charismatic as Eunwoo. Easygoing manner, quick wit, smile sweet like honey. Time passed in the
blink of an eye, the bartender eventually informing them of last call, Seokjin and Eunwoo taking it
as their cue to leave.
Deep night, early morning, the streets still brimming with lawlessness albeit winding down. A
group of drunk friends stumbled past, belting old ballads at the top of their lungs. Seokjin chuckled
at their antics, laughter coming to a stop once he noticed the way Eunwoo was looking at him.
“Well it was good running into you again,” Seokjin blurted, a little too loud in the quiet. He could
still feel the liquor warming him in the chill, could smell the dying leaves, telltale signs of autumn.
He felt good, as simple as that. But with every passing second it was evident that things weren’t so
simple for Eunwoo, the boy’s gaze laced with a certain edge to it, dark and intent. Before he could
register what was happening the two were standing very close, Seokjin suddenly keenly aware of
their height difference; how despite Eunwoo being one year younger he towered over him, so much
so that to maintain eye contact, he had to look up.
And Eunwoo—Eunwoo was moving down.

It was instinctual, the way Seokjin ducked to the side, moments later straightening up to find utter
confusion etched across Eunwoo’s face.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Eunwoo stammered. “I-I guess I read it wrong, I should’ve asked…”
“No! It’s okay—”
“Oh god, this is embarrassing,” he let out a moan, turning away to hide his humiliation.
“No, it’s not. You’re fine, I swear. I’m sorry I did that, I wasn’t thinking.”
“If lightning struck me right now and killed me, I think I’d be okay.”
“Yahhhhh, what are you saying?” Seokjin coaxed helplessly, giving Eunwoo’s shoulder a shake.
“We were just on different pages, that’s all.”
“So you weren’t feeling it at all, huh?”
Seokjin’s hesitation was enough of an answer.
“I’m literally going to die.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“I thought there was something there.”
“I mean—” Seokjin ran a frazzled hand through his hair. “I like spending time with you.” He
picked through his words carefully. “I like talking to you. You’re smart, kind, funny…”
“So if I’m all those things, why aren’t you interested?” He was still resolutely looking away.
“Because I like someone.”
The words had tumbled forth without warning, Eunwoo finally turning around so they were face to
face. “Oh,” he murmured, color flooding back to his complexion. “You like someone.”
Seokjin nodded.
“You like someone,” Eunwoo repeated. “You guys aren’t together yet?”
“Do they like you back?”
A pause. “At one point they did. Not sure anymore.”
“Oh. You have history?”
“A lot.”
“So it’s complicated?”
“Very.”
“Ahhhh,” Eunwoo released a lengthy sigh. “Aigoo. What do we do.”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question for a long time.”
With a flourish Eunwoo whipped out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket, prying
the cardboard box open with his long fingers.
“I only smoke when I’m drunk.”
“It’s fine.”
“Thanks. Agh, it’s bitter. Been a while.”
For a moment they stood in contemplative silence, trails of smoke curling into the night, the
stillness only punctured by a faint buzz in Seokjin’s pocket.
Jimin: Just checking if you’re alive, sir?
Seokjin: Alive and well :)
“Say,” Eunwoo began, flicking ashes from the end of his cigarette. “If you tell this person you like
them, what do you think will happen?”
No one had asked Seokjin this question so candidly before, although he’d long had an answer at the
ready. His mind had a way of gravitating towards the worst possible outcome; losing Taehyung for
good. And the longer he remained silent, the longer he didn’t speak, there in the quiet lingered a
hope, a chance. He was terrified for said hope to be snuffed out entirely.
“I’ve lost him too many times. One more and I don’t think I can bear it.”
“I hear you. That’s always the risk with these things, right?” Eunwoo nodded. “When you confess
to someone…it’s always a scary thing, isn’t it?”
The chill in the air reminded him of the beach in Jeju, and suddenly he was taken back to the very
moment where it all started. Scent of fire in their hair, waves crashing on the shore, white moon on
black water. The memory was tangible as if it happened yesterday. Taehyung laying on his chest,
asking one leading question after another until he led them to the point of no return. Back then it
had seemed so simple, so innocent; just two boys with a crush, driven by impulse, caught up in the
heat of it all.
Only now did Seokjin realize the weight of the moment. Taehyung had risked everything.
In all the years he’d known him, he’d always believed his best friend to be fearless. Bold,
bordering on reckless. Plowing forward without abandon, wholly sure of himself, of fate, of the
ways of the world, everything that Seokjin wasn’t, everything that Seokjin wanted to be. He
realized now; standing where Taehyung once stood, feet planted in place and staring into the
unknown, knees buckling, courage lacking—
That there was a fine line between fearless and brave. The difference being the presence of fear
itself.
Right before the kiss, Seokjin had worried how his own heartbeat sounded against Taehyung’s ear.
Never did he consider how fast, how hard Taehyung’s heart was beating, too.
“I can do this,” he muttered to himself, not realizing he’d said it out loud.
“Yes you can,” Eunwoo agreed, smothering the last of his cigarette.
The lights of the wine bar behind them dimmed to black, followed by the sounds of shutters
closing, blinds drawing. Not long after the last of the staff trickled out the door, the bartender from
earlier nodding politely in Seokjin and Eunwoo’s direction, the two nodding back.
“Hey, Eunwoo. Earlier…thank you for being understanding. And sorry for—”
He threw up a hand to stop him. “Let’s never bring that up again.”
“Sorry,” Seokjin laughed. “But just now you were dancing with that guy at the club, no? He was
pretty cute. You’ve got options. You know you’re hot right?”
“I know I am. Just haven’t found the right one.”
“What are you looking for exactly?”
“Me?” Eunwoo smiled, dimple forming in his right cheek. “Someone who can handle all of my
love. I have a lot of it to give.”
---
[ ♪ Home ]
He woke up in his new apartment to several missed texts and calls, plus a killer hangover to boot.
Seokjung: Hey pabo-yah. You awake?
Seokjung: You’re getting a lot of furniture delivered today right?
Seokjung: Let me know when you’re awake so I can come over and help
With a languished groan he rolled off of his mattress straight onto the floor, body hitting the
hardwood with a dull thump. Eyes half open and still sticky with sleep, he typed out a very brief
response.
Seokjin: No need
He blinked fully awake as he caught wind of the time, Seokjin realizing that the first round of
deliveries would be arriving any minute. Scrambling to his feet, he combed through his suitcase for
a somewhat respectable outfit, wiggling into jeans and a tee before rushing to the bathroom,
splashing water on his face and forgoing skincare altogether. Somewhere in the middle of his
morning coffee routine the buzzer blared through his apartment, the boy rushing over and releasing
it in haste. Moments later the delivery men arrived at his door, dropping the large boxes off in the
foyer, Seokjin signing it off with a flurry of thank you’s.
Not everything was being delivered at once. The bed frame and dresser arrived in the first wave,
Seokjin sliding the heavy boxes across the floor and into his room. Feeling rather ambitious he
fetched a small knife and slashed the boxes open, removing from them the assembly instructions,
Seokjin flipping through the pages with inflated confidence. A lot of work, sure, but he was certain
he could handle it.
Just as the second delivery came, his hangover kicked in full force, Seokjin shoving the dining
table and chairs into the living area before rummaging through his bathroom cabinet for
painkillers. “Coffee,” he mumbled, hurrying to the kitchen once he realized his original cup had
gone cold.
The third ring of the buzzer sounded just as Seokjin finished reheating his coffee, the boy cocking
his head in mild confusion. The delivery company said the couch would arrive sometime in the
afternoon, not nearly this early. Very tentatively he pressed the button for the intercom, offering a
careful “hello” only to hear one — no, two — familiar voices answer him.
“Dummy, it’s me,” Seokjung mumbled. “Let us in.”
“YEAH! OPEN UP!” A second voice screeched, faint but shrill, unmistakeable.
When Seokjung and Jia arrived at his door, they found a semi-inebriated Seokjin folded over the
counter, coffee half-drunken, head in his hands. Jia promptly doubled over in laughter, Seokjung
smirking at the sight of his little brother.
“Rough night?”
“Mhmmm.”
“You look like a MESS,” Jia propped her elbows across from him.
“Shhhh. You’re talking too loud.”
“Ungrateful.”
“And you thought you could do this without us?” Seokjung tutted.
It was the first time Seokjin was seeing Jia after jumping the Kim family ship, but neither of them
seemed to acknowledge it, rattling back and forth as if it was any other afternoon. Very brazenly
Jia requested a cup of coffee for herself, Seokjin begrudgingly making it for her, Seokjung
declining his portion and heading straight towards the slashed boxes in his bedroom, toolbox in
hand.
Suddenly Jia and Seokjin were completely alone, and he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.
There was a nice little skylight in the slanted roof of the kitchen, Jia standing directly under the
pool of light as if she’d been beamed down from somewhere above, not of this world. It all felt
very surreal, like he was meeting her for the first time.
“How’ve you been?” He attempted lamely.
“Nothing new,” she replied. “You, on the other hand.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re like a different person.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
He knew he looked like a wreck. Hair unkempt, dark bags under his eyes.
“Good,” she stifled a giggle. “Really good.”
“Stop.”
“I’m serious. You seem more like…yourself.”
“Are you saying that this—” He gestured at his sorry state. “Is my default?”
“That’s not what I’m saying but if you want to interpret it that way, sure.”
A moment’s pause as he grabbed her emptied coffee cup and moved it to the sink, soaping up the
sponge and running the cup under hot water.
“What did your parents tell you?” He asked quietly.
“That you incited a rebellion and ran away from home.”
It’s a half truth.
“Did they seem angry?”
“Who? My parents or yours?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Your parents, I don’t know. But I’m sure they acted like they weren’t, for appearances sake. Mine
weren’t angry. I think you scared them good, Kim Seokjin.”
“When my parents found out you defected, they freaked the fuck out. I think they thought I was
next.” She laughed. “The day of, they sat me down and had an emergency family meeting, very
serious, all business. Had a long talk about my future. They’d never really asked me what I wanted
before.”
“Wow.”
“So I was honest with them for the first time, and they got super emotional. Told me they were
sorry and everything. Can you believe it?”
He could. She’d told him once that her parents loved her very much. Just a little misguided in their
love.
“So now they’re giving me free reign. Letting me do whatever I want with my life, so long as I
don’t run away like you did.”
Relief washed over him as he dried his hands off on his shirt, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m glad.”
“Suppose I have you to thank for that. Now I can marry whoever the fuck I want.”
“You still wanna get married someday?”
“Yeah. Except now I wanna try this love thing you’re so keen on.”
“Oh yeah?” Seokjin leaned against the counter. “Anyone you into these days?”
She scrunched her nose in thought as Seokjung emerged from the bedroom door frame, beckoning
for the two of them to join him.
“Too early to say.”
They assembled the larger pieces in the living room, the bedroom too cramped with the mattress in
place. The task was far easier with three instead of one, Seokjin secretly counting his lucky stars
that they showed up to the rescue. Halfway through the assembly process Seokjung glanced up at
his little brother, clearing his throat and nodding in his direction.
“Seokjin-ah. If you’re feeling tired we’ll take care of this. Why don’t you unpack your suitcase, get
settled in a bit more?”
Too hungover to argue, he rose from his place and plodded to the bedroom, eyeing the large
suitcase splayed open, clothes tumbling forth from the mouth of it. Very methodically he began
working through the pile, threading each item onto a hanger and arranging it in his new closet.
He could hear bouts of laughter from the next room, Seokjung’s surly chuckle and Jia’s squeaky
giggles. The sound of their happiness was infectious, Seokjin allowing himself to be carried higher
with it.
He’d nearly reached the end of the pile when he happened upon an old hoodie, worn and familiar.
Faded grey, hems frayed. With utmost care he scooped the item out of the suitcase, turning the
material over in his hands, fingers skimming the fabric with a sacred intimacy. It was as he was
examining the hoodie that a small note escaped from its pocket, fluttering to the ground and
landing feather light on the hardwood. Hands shaking, he picked up the piece of paper, already
knowing the words by heart without looking.
Let me know if you ever change your mind.
He remembered a time where he’d read the same words over and over again until they no longer
sounded like words.
This time he no longer felt numb; if anything, awakened.
Very carefully he tucked the note back into the pocket of the hoodie, sliding it onto a hanger and
nestling it against the rest of his clothes. Funny, how such a demure grey could stand out in a sea of
color.
Seokjin: Jimin-ah. Where does Hyungsik work?
Seokjin: And what color is Taehyung’s hair these days
Jimin: [address attached]
Jimin: And it’s growing out, my love. He hasn’t dyed it in a while.
---
The address was very close to his parents’ complex, which gave him some qualms about going
altogether. Nevertheless Seokjin stuck to his guns, hopping on a cross-town bus after work, rush
hour mayhem sweeping him into its current. For the first half of the ride he was jostled about in the
middle of the aisle, Seokjin’s arm sore from holding onto the overhead handrails. Only as the bus
traversed further into residential neighborhoods did the crowd thin out, dusty windows giving way
to familiar scenery, the same proud trees and weathered storefronts.
He kept his eyes fixed on the GPS even as he disembarked, following the pointed arrow without
giving much thought to his surroundings. It was only when the navigation announced he’d arrived
that he looked up at said destination, brows pinched in confusion once he realized where he stood.
Perhaps he’d entered it incorrectly? Or had Jimin given him the wrong address?
Seokjin: Jimin…is it a cafe?
Jimin: Yeap, sounds right!
It was indeed a cafe, one that Seokjin was well acquainted with; albeit the appearance a bit
different than he remembered it. He hesitated by the entrance, assessing the new coat of paint on
the door, the previous signage of the cafe removed, glass blank and blinds drawn. Trusting that this
wasn’t a practical joke or another one of Jimin’s surprises, he took a deep breath and pushed open
the door, the little bell above it ringing in his arrival.
The inside of the cafe was beyond recognition.
Tables and chairs gone, half of the floor ripped up, the other half freshly redone. Walls stark white
and devoid of any decor. Counter empty save for the usual machinery and a couple of unfamiliar
staff members huddled behind it, seemingly studying a piece of paper.
“Oh, welcome!” The woman glanced up from her work, greeting Seokjin with a sunny grin.
“Thank you,” Seokjin lowered into a bow. “I’m here to meet with Hyungsik-ssi.”
“Ah yes! Boss is expecting you. Wait here.”
With a swish of her ponytail she disappeared behind the curtain separating the front from the
kitchen, muffled voices sounding from the hidden room. The man lingering by the register gave
Seokjin an awkward nod of acknowledgement before asking if he wanted anything to drink.
Seokjin politely declined.
And then the curtain was parting, the woman re-emerging followed by a much taller figure, so
much so that he had to bow his head as he walked through the doorway.
“Hi,” Hyungsik smiled weakly.

“Hey.”
---
[ ♪ Day & Night ]
Before venturing outside Hyungsik asked him once more for his drink of choice, Seokjin
momentarily blacking out—what even is coffee? Who am I? Where am I?—before Hyungsik
stepped in to make an executive decision on his behalf.
Said decision was now clasped in his hands, steaming cup of sweet potato latte, burning to the
touch. Sitting on the opposite end of the bench was Hyungsik, who clutched an iced Americano in
his wiry fingers. The fountain was bubbling again, the little park hushed save for the sound of
flowing water, leaves of red and gold swirling delicately in its wake.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” Seokjin finally piped up, unable to prolong the awkwardness
any further.
“At a cafe?” Hyungsik glanced at him. “My family owns a coffee chain.”
“No I mean…specifically this one.”
“Oh yeah? Have you been here before?”
“I used to come here a lot.”
“The previous owner sold it to us, so we’re in the process of remodeling and rebranding.”
“I see.”
The conversation was surprisingly casual, like two acquaintances catching up after running into
one another. Somehow the easiness of it made Seokjin squirm in his seat.
“Where are you coming from?”
“Work.”
“This casual?” He scanned over Seokjin’s dark jeans and sweater. “Must be nice.”
“It is.”
“I heard you changed jobs. I heard a lot’s changed for you, actually.”
“Who’d you hear this from? Jimin?”
“But of course,” Hyungsik chuckled. “Who else but our little messenger bee.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed thickly. “A lot’s changed,” he repeated, and then the conversation died
down once more.
He hated this. The pathetic attempts at small talk, of dancing around the subject. His fingers curled
into the denim of his jeans, white-knuckled, Hyungsik likely taking note and clearing his throat
decisively.
“So. What brings you here to see me?”
A hush fell over them as Seokjin stared pointedly at his shoes, scuffing them in the dirt, making
tiny circles with his heel. Hyungsik didn’t rush him, merely sat at his side, taking measured sips of
coffee and watching the sparrows bathe in the fountain. The words were simple enough yet sat
heavy on his tongue, Seokjin squeezing his eyes shut before finally speaking them into existence.
“I wanted to come here and apologize.”

“Oh.”
He didn’t dare look up at Hyungsik to gauge his reaction.
“I want to be clear that…I’m…I’m not expecting anything from this, and it’s okay if you don’t
accept it,” he barreled on. “I just want you to know that it weighs on me. I’m sorry. I’m really,
really sorry. I regret what I did everyday. And I know that a thousand sorry’s won’t make up for it,
but at the very least I want you to know. I’m sorry.”
He could hear a thoughtful hum sounding from the elder, Seokjin waiting with bated breath for
Hyungsik’s answer. The latte in his hands was now lukewarm and losing more heat by the second.
“At first it was easy to dump the blame on you,” Hyungsik confessed very quietly. “And for
weeks…no, months actually, I felt a lot of resentment towards you. I don’t know how honest I can
get here, but the very thought of you made me see red.”
Words like knives. Seokjin took them all in stride.
“It wasn’t until the very end…after Taehyung and I had ended it for good. He’d moved out all of
his things and he…he left his ring, along with a note on the dining room table. The note was short
and sweet; all he’d said was thank you. And I’m sure he meant that in a good way. Thank you for
loving me, caring for me, being beside me.”
Hyungsik’s voice was even, but his fingers were trembling.
“But the more I stared at those words, the more I realized—yes, I loved him, I cared for him, I
stayed beside him...when deep down I knew I shouldn’t have.” A shaky exhale, and then Hyungsik
was turning to look at him, Seokjin wilting under his gaze. “You understand what I’m saying,
right? In a way we all played our part in this, didn’t we? You, me, Taehyung. No one is innocent.”
He’d never thought of it that way.
“I accept your apology, by the way. I appreciate you coming all the way here, wanting to have this
conversation with me. I think the gesture alone is enough. But I hope you don’t mind me saying
this, and I have to say it because it’s going to weigh on my conscience otherwise…I’d like to draw
the line here, if that’s okay. I can give you my number. If you ever need anything feel free to reach
out. Aside from that…I just…I don’t see us…”
“It’s okay hyung,” Seokjin spoke softly. “I understand. It’s best if we keep a distance.”
A visible relief washed over the elder’s face. “Thank you,” Hyungsik whispered.
He could see why Taehyung chose him, why at one point he loved him, why in the end he didn’t
want to leave him. There was something wholly reassuring in the way Hyungsik carried himself. A
toothy smile, slight slouch in his posture, gangly legs, the white of his shirt stained with splatters of
coffee. Not perfect, but perfectly charming. Safe and sound, the ugliness of the world no match for
him.
“Are you…are you doing okay now?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay now. For a long time I wasn’t, and it sort of scared me how much I was
struggling. People say time heals, so I’m banking on that promise. In the beginning I was so
depressed that my old roommate from university moved back in with me. Dahyun…did you meet
her? Can’t remember. Anyway, it's less lonely with her by my side. Some would say I’m regressing
but I’m kind of okay with it.”
“Regressing?”
“Maybe that’s not the right word. Let’s just say I’m not where I thought I’d be, but I’m realizing
I’m right where I should be.”
“I’m glad, hyung.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I still want the same things. I want a family of my own. A happy marriage, a
home I can be proud of. Maybe it’s not now, maybe it’s not anytime soon, but I’m practicing
patience because I know it’ll be worth it. Someday I’m going to find someone who has just as
much love to give as I do.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“And what about you? How’re you and Taehyung doing?”
Seokjin promptly choked on his first sip of latte.
“I don’t know,” he managed through residual hacking. “H-Haven’t talked to him.”
“Really? You haven’t reached out yet?”
“I see,” Hyungsik stroked his chin thoughtfully, lips formed into a pout. “You don’t want to give it
another shot?”
“I do. Badly.”
“Is it that…you’re not ready?”
“I am ready. I’m going to do it soon. I just don’t know if he is.”
“Even if he isn’t right now, he’ll come around eventually.”
“I feel like he’s always been waiting for you hasn’t he?” Hyungsik said candidly. “Even when he
was with me, even though he’d never admit it. Even when he was upset at you, wanted to light the
world on fire because of you…I think a small part of him will always be waiting.”
He eyed the boy next to him carefully, who was now stewing in pensive silence. The one he’d
fervently envied, but could never bring himself to hate. The more he studied Seokjin he could see
why anyone, not just Taehyung, could fall in love with him. Physical beauty aside there was a
duality in his eyes, both sorrowful and warm. Even beyond his gaze there lay within him a roaring
contradiction, one that gripped Hyungsik firmly against his will. For despite being gentle and kind,
like the surface of a lake, a still spring morning, there burned within him an undeniable ferocity.
Like a rainstorm at sea, rippling wildfire. The entire world folded into one person. Why would you
want anything else when you could have the entire world?
“I won’t make him wait any longer.”
“Good.”
---
Seokjin: Hey hyung. Thanks for meeting with me.
Seokjin: I know you said not to text
Hyungsik: I didn’t mean that~
Hyungsik: Thanks for coming to see me. I appreciate it.
Seokjin: Not a problem.
Seokjin: I just wanted to ask
Seokjin: Would you be down if I introduced you to someone new?
---
It’d been a long time since he paid a visit to the Park-Jeon residence. In the three months that
Seokjin lived there, Taehyung refrained from visiting altogether.
He now sat in the very spot Seokjin had slept upon, Taehyung wedged flush against the armrest,
Jungkook’s head nestled in his lap, his long legs occupying the rest of the couch. The living room
was very peaceful, the window propped open just a sliver, cool October breeze filtering in and
tickling the leaves of their umbrella tree. The next room however was embroiled in chaos, Jimin
turning the place upside down as he attempted his usual last minute packing.
“You excited for your trip?” Jungkook mumbled, buttons clacking away on his Nintendo Switch.
“You excited for yours?” Taehyung patted him gently on the belly.
“I asked you first.”
Never had he contemplated the concept of time until he found himself severely lacking it. So when
the holiday weekend gifted them an additional day off, Taehyung felt compelled to take advantage
of it, pitching the idea of a mini vacation to an equally worn-out Jimin. “Where were you
thinking?” Jimin had asked.
“Jeju,” Taehyung had answered firmly.
If Jimin found it surprising, he didn’t let it show. “I suppose we’re due for a Jeju trip, aren’t we?”
Taehyung’s weekend bag had been long at the ready, parked neatly by the doorway, light and
compact. “Are we going to swim?” Jimin bellowed from the bedroom, both Jungkook and
Taehyung chuckling at the question.
“It’s a bit too cold for that, don’t you think?”
A brief pause. “I’ll pack it anyway.”
“He’s going to overpack again,” Jungkook tutted.
“Might be a good thing. I tend to underpack.”
“That’s how it always is with you two. Yin and yang.”
“Yah, punk,” Taehyung gave Jungkook a slap on the arm. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Your trip. You excited?”

“We’re just taking a train, nothing crazy,” Jungkook shrugged. “But I suppose it’ll be nice to get
outta here for a bit.”
Jungkook had a getaway of his own in the books, he and Seokjin departing for Busan via train on
Sunday evening. Seokjin was attending a work conference down south the following week,
Jungkook taking the opportunity to tag along and work remote from their shared hotel room.
With a noisy clatter Jimin emerged from their bedroom, dragging behind him a hefty carry-on and
shouldering a suspiciously heavy backpack.
“Wow babe, you really did overpack.”
“Never know what will come in handy.”
“Jimin-ah. Did you bring your work laptop?” Taehyung narrowed his eyes at his best friend.
“JIMIN.”
“ALRIGHT, SORRY!” He whined, ducking into his room to remove the object in question.
After bidding Jungkook a very drawn-out, dramatic goodbye the two hailed a taxi to the airport,
throwing their bags into the trunk and sliding hastily into the backseat. Jimin made brief small talk
with the driver before falling into a silence, focusing his attention on the phone in his lap instead.
The ride to Gimpo was fairly short, just shy of ten minutes. Through the city and across the bridge
they went, buildings of Seoul glittering under a deceptively chilly sun. Thankfully the island would
be a little warmer.
“When was the last time you were in Jeju?” Jimin piped up, Taehyung tearing his gaze away from
the scenery.
“When Hyungsik and I were looking at wedding venues.”
“Ah. I see.”
“How about you?”
“Sometime during university. Went for a weekend with a couple classmates.”
“It’s really been a while.”
“Yeah. None of us had a license, so we relied on public transport and did a lot of walking. At one
point we were walking from Jusangjeolli cliff to Cheonjeyeon falls and the GPS led us through
these super random orange groves. I don’t know why it’s such a lovely memory to me.”
“Wow. That sounds beautiful.”
“It was. If only I could remember the name of the place.”
Their car veered off of the main road and onto the airport exit, an excitement stirring in the pit of
Taehyung’s stomach.
“I know for a long time you didn’t want to go back,” Jimin began carefully. “Seems like you don’t
feel that way anymore?”
It was true that at a certain point in his life, “Jeju” was a loaded word; weighed down by memories,
wrought with mistakes. For a long time it haunted him like a phantom, Taehyung treating it as
such. Tried to bury the past and pretend it didn’t exist altogether. But as the car pulled to a stop at
the curb of Gimpo’s departures level, Taehyung could feel within him the fluttering of butterflies,
this time happy and hopeful.
Plus, Jimin said he’d planned some sort of surprise for him. Something else to look forward to.
“I’m excited,” he answered earnestly. Jimin smiled back, knowing that he meant it.
The departures level of Gimpo hummed like a hive, swarming with crowds of holiday travelers,
security lines snaking back and forth and moving inches forward at a time. As soon as they stepped
through the revolving doors Jimin excused himself to the bathroom, leaving his luggage in
Taehyung’s possession and booking it towards the opposite end of the lobby.
“Okay, but pee quickly!” Taehyung called after him, Jimin waving him off before disappearing
into the men’s restroom.
Taehyung was nervously tapping his foot against the tile when he felt a small jab on his right
shoulder.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice sounded behind him. “Can you tell me how to get—”
He whipped around expecting a wayward stranger, gaze falling instead upon a very tall,
exceptionally handsome, glowing and sun-kissed Kim Namjoon.
“WHAT THE FUCK.”
First his jaw dropped to the ground, then his bags, and then he was catapulting himself into the
arms of his long lost friend, feet kicking off of the floor, grip tightening around his neck.
Bystanders craned their necks at the commotion, Taehyung paying them no mind as he proceeded
to squeeze the life out of the boy standing before him.
“JOON?” He screeched, fighting back tears as he looked him up and down. “H-How?!”
Before Namjoon could offer an explanation a very frazzled Jimin was sprinting back towards them,
hands shoving at their backs and urging them in the right direction.
“OKAY YOU IDIOTS let’s get to security, QUICK we’re gonna be late—”
The three of them sped into a light jog through the crowds, Taehyung nearly running into several
people as he ogled in disbelief at Namjoon.
“Wait, what’re you doing here? You’re coming with us?”
“No, I just came to the airport to say hi.”
“Wait, what?”
“YES I’m coming with you, pabo. ”
“THIS is the surprise,” Jimin announced proudly, ushering them into the security line with brisk
efficiency.
“Joon-ah, are you back?” Taehyung looked up at him, wide-eyed and hopeful. “Like, back back?”
“I’m back,” Namjoon grinned, handing over his ticket for the agent to scan. “I’m back for good.”
Chapter End Notes
Yes, Hyungsik and Eunwoo end up together. :)
Originally Hyungsik's story was going to be left open-ended, and Eunwoo as you all
know was a last minute add in. It was actually user @teteuphoria_ on Twitter who
speculated if these two would end up as a couple. I thought the idea was brilliant and
ran with it.
I'm not going to flesh out Hyungsik and Eunwoo's story in actual writing, so I'll just
summarize it here. Hyungsik gets Eunwoo's number from Seokjin and doesn't text him
until months later. Soon after the initial text, the two of them go on a date and the
spark is immediate; both of them are crazy into each other, but Hyungsik is scared of
taking it too fast. Hence Hyungsik tells Eunwoo that he's not ready for anything
beyond friendship, to which a disappointed Eunwoo accepts and understands.
From then on the two interact very sparingly, if at all. Hyungsik gets to a much better
place mentally/emotionally, Eunwoo gets pretty busy with his first job, both of them
forget about dating altogether...until one day Hyungsik suddenly starts seeing Eunwoo
everywhere. In the stairwell of a subway station, at the gym, in the grocery store.
(Eunwoo had unknowingly moved into Hyungsik's neighborhood.) The more
Hyungsik sees Eunwoo, the more he can't stop thinking about him. Eventually upon
another one of their chance meetings, Hyungsik pulls Eunwoo aside to strike up an
actual conversation, and thus their relationship is rekindled, this time more so with
romantic intention.
Since both of them are into photography, they decide to go on a nature hike together.
At this point they're not together but they're in that grey area. Somewhere along the
hike Eunwoo falls and scrapes his knee. Luckily Hyungsik brought his first aid kit.
He cleans the wound, rubs a bit of ointment, sticks on a bandaid and the whole time
Eunwoo's just STARING at him with this LONGING haha like this boy is in LOVE
and he knows it.
Just as Hyungsik is about to stand up Eunwoo pulls him back down and asks, "Aren't
you going to kiss me?"
Hyungsik goes, "Oh." Leans forward and kisses the bandaid.
Eunwoo screeches in protest and points to his lips instead. "No, HERE."
And that's the abridged version of how Hyungsik and Eunwoo get together and have
their happy ending. <3
Oh and yes, Eunwoo was "the intern" at Taehyung's office. I've had some crazy
coincidences like this happen in my life and the world always feels much smaller
because of it. Taehyung will never connect the dots on this, and neither will Eunwoo,
nor Seokjin. But you as the reader know. :)
This is the last time you'll see Hyungsik in this story, so please say goodbye to his
character. Whether you loved him or hated him, thank you for investing in his
storyline.
Please do share your thoughts in the comments, don't be a silent reader! :) Comments
are the fuel for my engine.
The next chapter is probably my personal favorite. My goal is to have an update for
you guys by end of August. Until then, take care. Thank you for reading along as
always.
Part 3
Chapter Notes
There are 3 scenes in this chapter that were heavily inspired by certain songs, which
I've linked throughout the story as background music.
My suggestion is to read it once without music, then read it again with music. I'd cut
the music once you're done reading the scene. :) But do whatever makes you happy
haha.
More than anything, really grateful for your patience. Thank you for keeping up with
this story, I hope you enjoy this one.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think Taehyung was in love.
The three of them had boarded the tiny Jeju-bound plane, Taehyung and Jimin seated side by side
towards the front, Namjoon sitting by himself a couple rows back. Being that he occupied the aisle
seat, every few minutes or so Taehyung would turn around to look at Namjoon, shameless. The
latter would somehow always feel his gaze upon him, would look up from his book and flash a
sheepish smile towards his friend. Thankfully Taehyung dozed off shortly after take off, but the
moment he woke up before landing he was craning to glance behind him again, arms outstretched,
mid-yawn. Namjoon laughed out loud in the quiet cabin.
Jeju was just as they’d left it. Nothing new, utterly unchanging. Black rock and blue water.
They hailed a cab from the airport to their vacation home, dropping their belongings off in the
living room and taking a rapid tour of the modest apartment.
“Just one bed, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jimin scratched his head. “Joon was a bit of a last minute addition. I’ll sleep on the couch
though, no worries.”
“We’ll have this discussion later.” The sun was hanging low in the sky, gold bleeding through the
windows. “I wanna see the sunset. Let’s go catch the sunset.”
Their vacation home was close to the beach, albeit coming short of any spectacular views. The
west-ward windows faced an array of concrete buildings and telephone wires. The balcony jutting
off of the kitchen overlooked an unremarkable part of town, sleepy convenience stores and low-
lying houses.
But just steps outside of their complex there wafted the smell of the sea, the scent of it growing
stronger as they ventured towards it, the sound of it rising too, a low-rumbling roar. They started at
a leisurely pace, Taehyung walking side by side with Namjoon, Jimin a little ways ahead, snapping
pictures of them on his Polaroid. Soon after there appeared a strip of blue under a honey horizon,
Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat at the sight of it. Jimin angled his camera at the sky,
taking a photo before lowering it to his chest. “Ah. It’s almost setting.”
Unanimously the trio took off into a run, feet slamming against pavement, then eventually sand.
Climbed up a small hill of volcanic rock just in time to see the sun slip behind the city’s silhouette.
Post-sunset, everything was lavender.
It was too cold to venture into the water, and hardly anyone else was swimming at such an hour.
They happened upon a footpath and followed it instead, taking a long meandering walk along the
shore. Ended up at a cafe with a spacious outdoor deck overlooking the water. By then it was
already nightfall, strings of fairy lights blinking awake, the ocean beyond it dark and brooding.
Namjoon purchased an iced Americano with complete disregard to the time. “We’re on vacation,”
he argued as they settled into their seats. There were no rules on vacation.
For a moment they sat in pleasant silence, eavesdropping on the chitchat of surrounding patrons.
Jeju was notably warmer than Seoul, enough so that the three of them had romped around quite
comfortably in T-shirts. But as a gentle evening breeze swept past, Namjoon shivering under its
touch, Jimin took it upon himself to lean forward with concern.
“You want a hoodie? I have an extra one in my bag.”
“Will it fit me?”
“Don’t know until you try.”

It fit Namjoon quite nicely, seeing that it was actually Jungkook’s hoodie.
The entire afternoon had been a whirlwind, their conversations largely surface level, perfunctory
questions such as “When did you get back?” and “Aren’t you jet lagged?”
There was something about nighttime that urged them to slow down, dig deep.
“What was like…the thing that made you realize you had to come back?”
“There wasn’t one thing per se,” Namjoon replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “You guys know I’ve
been on the fence for years. All throughout school I was thinking about it. I’d get homesick. Crazy
homesickness, especially in the beginning when I didn’t have any friends. It’s pretty isolating as an
international student. I thought my English was good but apparently not good enough. For a while I
only had you guys to talk to. And everyday I questioned if I’d made a mistake going there alone.”
“I didn’t know,” Taehyung murmured. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I know you were going through a hard time too.”
Taehyung could feel his heart twist, a pang of pain.
“So yeah. Homesickness would come and go. Some days it’d be really bad. And I’m not one to call
my parents and get mushy about it, so most of the time it was pent up inside. There was a Korean
restaurant near campus that I’d go to a lot. Just a mom and pop jjigae shop…not nearly as good as
it is here, but it was the closest thing to home I could find. The ahjumma that owned the place
started to recognize me and kind of took me under her wing. Sometimes she’d sit with me as I’d
eat. Every time I felt really shitty I’d just go to her.”
Taehyung wanted to cry. He didn’t realize how lonely Namjoon had been.
“I think…for a long time I thought I had to stay there to prove myself. I go to this elite school, and
when I graduate I need to find an even more prestigious job. I saw my homesickness as a sign of
weakness, something I had to push down, get rid of. It wasn’t until a couple months ago…my
mom’s birthday. We were Facetiming and she suddenly started crying. I couldn’t hold it in
anymore, so I broke down too.”
Both Taehyung and Jimin knew Namjoon’s mother well. A practical, no nonsense woman who
scarcely showed any hint of emotion. Neither of them could imagine her otherwise.
“I realized then that my homesickness wasn’t a sign of weakness. Just a sign that I wanted to go
home, and that there’s nothing wrong with going home. My parents couldn’t leave work to come to
my graduation, so I went to the ceremony with Daisy’s family. Spent one last summer in the states,
did a cross country road-trip with some of our friends. Then last month I sold all of my things and
moved out of my apartment. I haven’t told my parents that I’m coming home yet. Hoping to give
them a little surprise.”
“I think it’s super cool, what you did,” Jimin beamed.
“You’re just happy I’m back, aren’t you?”
“Guilty, yes.”
“Speaking of Daisy,” Taehyung piped up. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you guys still
together?”
A slight pause as Namjoon cleared his throat, running a large hand through his cropped hair. “We
are, yeah. Neither of us have done long distance before, but we’ll see how it goes.” He trailed off,
uncertain. Taehyung smiled at him with soft eyes.
“No matter what happens, I’m proud of you. You were so cool in high school, way too cool for us.
You’re still cool now.”
“Even though I have no clue what I want to do with my life?” Namjoon countered.
“Yes. The mystery of it all. It’s sexy.”
To which their friend tilted his head back in laughter. Relaxed his shoulders a little bit and stole a
look at the stars.
---
They grabbed a late night dinner of heuk dwaeji before heading back to the apartment, bellies full
and eyelids heavy. Took turns showering, Namjoon first, Taehyung second, Jimin last so he could
take his sweet time. Namjoon and Taehyung lay sprawled out on the bed, flicking aimlessly
through the television channels. An eternity later Jimin emerged from the bathroom, drowning in
an oversized tee, a small towel slung over his shoulder.
“What do you guys wanna do tomorrow?”
“Should we do Hallasan?” Taehyung mumbled, gnawing away at the drawstring of his hoodie.
“Oh yeah? Right off the bat? You guys up for all that hiking?”
“Weather permitting, yeah. How’s it looking?”
“We got lucky. Clear skies this weekend, it’s supposed to rain as soon as we leave.”
“Well then yeah, let’s go,” Namjoon chimed in.
“You sure you can wake up that early?”
“I’m jet-lagged, so I’m at an advantage.”
“Not worried about you. I’m concerned about Tae.”
“Why?” The boy scowled. “Just wait, I’ll be waking up before the both of you. Watch me.”
In typical Jimin fashion he leaned forward with a smirk, a challenge. “Alrighty then. We’ll be
counting on you.”
To which Taehyung’s face fell, a bit panicked. “Maybe still set an alarm though.”
He received a giggle and a smack in response, the sound of Jimin’s laughter ringing like bells.
“Well you guys can sleep here,” he gestured towards the bed, rubbing the towel through his damp
hair. “I’m gonna camp out on the couch.”
“WHAT?” Taehyung shot up in his seat, brows pinched. “I thought we were all sleeping together?”
“When did we ever say that?”
“I thought we were going to discuss this!”
“Fine, let’s have this discussion. Joon, do you want all of us in one bed?”
“I—”
“See, he hesitated. He doesn’t want to.”
“No, he’s just overwhelmed with emotion!”
“Either way, look how big Joon got. Look at all that muscle. How’re we gonna fit?”
An exasperated sigh from Taehyung as Namjoon tugged down the hems of his sleeves. “You’re
one to talk, you’re so tiny. What’re you worried about.”
Taehyung was stubborn. He always won.
Lights went out earlier than usual in anticipation for their sunrise hike the next morning. Very
gingerly Jimin crawled under the covers, his end of the bed shifting under his weight. Much to his
delight Taehyung was sandwiched between his two friends, Namjoon’s soft snores sounding from
his right, Jimin’s back pressed flush against his left. The room had descended into darkness, but
Taehyung was all light, feather light.
He fell asleep easily, cocooned between their warmth. Namjoon smelled exceptionally good,
something musky and heady, Taehyung finding himself nuzzling against his shoulder before
drifting off into slumber.
Some time later, how much later he wasn’t sure, he felt the left side of the mattress sinking once
more, shortly after Jimin’s soft voice in the shell of his ear.
“I’m sorry baby,” he whispered. “It’s too hot, I can’t sleep. I’m going to the couch.”
“Wait.” Taehyung eased up as well, bleary-eyed. “I’m coming with you.”
“Why?”
“I’m kinda hungry.”
“Now? It’s 2AM.”
“I can’t control it.”
The two padded out of the room, Jimin beelining for the couch he’d prepared beforehand,
Taehyung swerving in the opposite direction en route to the kitchen. “Don’t eat too much,” Jimin
warned, pulling a blanket over the length of his body. “You’re gonna get nightmares.”
“Spooky.”
The vacation home host was kind enough to stock the fridge with the basics. Milk and butter, a
carton of eggs and a jar of kimchi, plus a whole bag of freshly picked Jeju oranges. A strange
combination but certainly enough for him to make a meal out of it. Switching on the stove light as
his sole source of illumination, he maneuvered around the dim kitchen, popping two slices of bread
into the toaster and peeling three oranges. Retrieved the two slices from the toaster, golden brown,
and slathered a bit of butter in the center. Settled into his seat at the kitchen table, snapped a photo
of his handiwork and posted it to social media. Late night snack he captioned the picture before
tucking his phone away.
He was happily chomping down on his toast when he felt a buzz in his pocket, Taehyung retrieving
his phone once more and smiling once he realized it was his sister; another notorious night owl.
Eonjin: You’re awake?
He clamped the bread between his mouth to type out a response.
Taehyung: Got the munchies. You?
Eonjin: Binging dramas again
Eonjin: You’re making me hungry too
Taehyung: Sorry >:)
Eonjin: We had a big dinner today, how am I still hungry?
Taehyung: What’d you guys have today?
Eonjin: Dakdoritang. :)
Taehyung: Wowwwwww, I see how it is. Wait till I leave to eat the good stuff.
Eonjin: OPPA ARE YOU KIDDING
Eonjin: I miss you already :(
Taehyung: It hasn’t even been a day, pabo
Eonjin: So what? Still miss you.
Without giving it further thought he shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth, grabbed the last
orange and rose from his seat. He pressed the call button as he ambled towards the balcony,
pushing the door open and sliding it shut behind him.
The other line crackled to life, her voice coming in a bit muffled, groggy but giddy.
“Oppa.”
“Eonjin-ah.”
The night was cold, bitterly cold. Being on a higher floor of their building the wind blew a little
stronger, Taehyung shivering in just his shorts and a white tee. He made himself small, curling his
knees towards his chest and tucking his shirt over his bare legs. He took measured bites out of each
orange slice, juice dribbling down his fingers, his palms. Listened to Eonjin’s happy little chirps as
she retold the story of how Appa nearly botched dinner that night, how Jeonggyu had to swoop in
to the rescue last minute. Taehyung laughed, teeth chattering, goosebumps rising on his skin.
The night was cold and still, the taste of orange sticky sweet on his tongue. Somewhere in the
distance he could see a glimpse of the ocean. Black, with a glimmer of moonlight. He let his gaze
linger there. Wondered what it would look like up close.
He stayed on the phone with Eonjin until she grew sleepy, until he’d become numb to the cold.
Just before she fell asleep she asked him very quietly.
“Oppa, are you having a good time? Are you happy?”
“Mm. And you, Eonjin-ah?”
No reply, just slow and steady breathing.
---
The air inside was toasty and dry, his skin thawing in the warmth. For a fleeting moment it felt like
Christmas.
He passed a sleeping Jimin on the couch, only pausing when he noticed the blanket was half
twisted around his legs, half strewn across the floor. He must’ve been kicking in his sleep again.
Very carefully Taehyung padded towards his friend, lifting the blanket and tucking it around
Jimin’s petite frame.
Total darkness greeted him as he entered the bedroom, only Namjoon’s sporadic snores puncturing
the otherwise quiet. With as little noise as possible Taehyung eased himself back into bed, noting
in defeat that indeed, it was only suited for two. He’d only laid down for a minute or so before
Namjoon suddenly flipped from his side onto his back, Taehyung letting out a gasp in fright.
Namjoon was sleep talking. Mumbling something incoherent but seemingly important, brows
furrowed, face strained. The next thing he knew Namjoon reached over to grab at his hand,
squeezing it with comical urgency. Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned in to hear.
“Oh, you’re back?” Namjoon muttered, somewhere in dreamland.
He squeezed his hand in return, a silly grin tugging at his lips. “I’m back.”
---
It was Jimin who woke everyone up the next morning, who ensured that they’d packed all their
essentials for the day, who hailed a car to Hallasan, in which Taehyung and Namjoon passed out in
the backseat. They hiked mostly in the cover of early dawn, watched the sky grow lighter and
lighter, darkness eventually giving way to a sea of rolling clouds. The sight of it made Namjoon
weep, and seeing Namjoon weep made Taehyung tear up, too. Jimin found the whole spectacle
outrageously funny, the boy doubled over laughing and smacking some sense into his loser friends.
Over the next couple of days they took their time exploring the island. Strolled through random
patches of orange groves, wandered through endless fields of green tea. Marveled at waterfalls and
seaside cafes. Ate like kings and drank like fools.
On their last night, Sunday evening, the three of them piled onto the apartment’s crowded balcony,
armed with beers and blankets, buzzed just the right amount. Jimin and Namjoon had been
drinking all evening and were still going strong, Taehyung opting for a bottle of milk tea instead.
He could never keep up with them.
That night the moon was even brighter and rounder, a perfect silver disc suspended high above the
clouds. Taehyung wanted to bask under the moonlight — a fleeting thought he quickly pushed to
the back of his mind.
“Our last night here,” Jimin heaved a sigh, resting his pout on the lip of his bottle. “Don’t wanna
go back to work.”
“Nope, don’t bring that up,” Taehyung chided. “Not allowed.”
“Ah fuck you’re right. Sorry.”
“Wish we could stay longer,” Namjoon agreed.
“What will you do, Joon-ah? When you go back to Seoul?”
“After I surprise my parents? I don’t know. For once in my life I don’t have a plan. Just wanna
spend time with them, make up for the last four years. Maybe start studying for LEET later, not
sure.”
“If you become a lawyer, can I get a friend and family discount?” Jimin batted his lashes for effect.
“No, I’d never represent you.”
“Why.”
“You’re too much trouble.”
“Fair.”
“But yeah. I wanna meet up with old friends, too. Only you guys know that I’m back.”
“They’re going to freak the fuck out when they find out you’ve returned.”
“Nothing to fret about.”
“Are you KIDDING?” Taehyung scoffed, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “Do
you know how long we’ve all been waiting for this moment?”
“I’ve visited as recently as January—”
“But this time you’re here to stay,” he cut in. “This time we won’t have to say goodbye.”
“True,” Namjoon wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, a wistful expression playing
across his face. “Been a while since the seven of us have gotten together, yeah?”
Taehyung knew that Namjoon knew, so for a moment he was a bit taken aback. Everyone else
always danced carefully around the subject, with an unspoken agreement that if one of them was
present, the other would be absent. It’d been a long time since someone had blown right past that,
and there it was again, that little flare, that quiet spark of hope.
“Yeah. It’s been a while.”
---
He couldn’t sleep.
It was a restless feeling, but not necessarily a bad one. He tried not to toss and turn in fear of
waking Namjoon, eventually giving up entirely and climbing out of bed. Tiptoed to the kitchen and
pried open the fridge once more, downed the rest of his milk tea and peeled a couple more oranges.
It wasn’t enough. He could feel something pulling him up and out, and standing on the balcony
wasn’t enough.
Very quietly he slipped on a hoodie and his trusty slides, easing the front door of the apartment
open and shut. Descended the dark stairwell until he reached ground level, happening upon a
deserted street, a sleeping town. Hardly any cabs were driving about at this hour, so he hailed a car
on his phone and waited at the foot of the building. It was a longer wait than usual, Taehyung
growing impatient as he chewed away at the now frayed drawstring of his sweatshirt. The driver
eventually arrived in a black sedan, a disinterested ahjussi who smelled faintly of cigarette smoke.
They offered each other a cursory greeting, and then they were off.
In the cloak of night everything was black, pitch black. The digital clock on the dashboard read
4:03AM. Something about this particular time of day felt almost holy. Everyone else in this city
was sleeping, just their quiet vehicle slicing through the dark. Taehyung felt very lucky to be alive.
The car ride wasn’t long, ten minutes tops. A distance he could’ve probably walked, but he was
impatient to get there. The sedan slowed to a stop, gravel crunching under the weight of its wheels.
The ahjussi glanced over his shoulder with a look of mild concern. “You…have a way back?”
“I’ll walk,” Taehyung answered good-naturedly.
The ahjussi took his word for it, turning his car around in the direction from whence they came, red
taillights growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared from view.
It’d been years. So many fucking years. One minute he was nineteen, thinking he could conquer
the world and the next he was twenty five, weight of the world on his shoulders. With a strange
confidence he forged forward, turning off his GPS navigation and tucking his phone into his back
pocket. Fallen leaves cracked under his feet, autumn breeze rattled through the branches. The air
was even colder here, being so close to the sea. He regretted not wearing a layer or two more,
Taehyung pulling the hoodie tighter around his body as he walked. Eventually the trees gave way
to a clearing, and the ground beneath him yielded to sand.
He ascended a wind-swept dune, feet slipping slightly with every step forward. He’d almost
reached the top of the hill when he saw it, silver moon over black water. Could certainly hear it,
waves crashing on a lonely shore, one after the other. With a final heave of breath he planted his
feet at the top and stood still, taking in the look of it. Like not a day had passed, like it’d been
waiting for his return.
Shaking off his slippers, he allowed the cool sand to seep into the spaces between his toes. Down
the dune he went until the beach lay flat, stretching endlessly in both directions. Taehyung circled
around a particular spot until he decided it was good enough, tossed his shoes to the side and
slowly eased himself down.
For a long time he simply sat. Sat in silence, eyes fixed on the ocean and the way the moonlight
glimmered upon it. He was right; it was even more beautiful up close. His mind drifted to silly
thoughts. Wondered if the moon and the sea ever got tired of each other, the push and the pull.
They of course never answered him. Perhaps they were happy to just exist.
After some time his back grew sore, so he lay himself down, tilting his head back until he felt the
cold touching every part of his body. Looked up at the sky and saw a thin layer of clouds. Turned
to his side and saw no one there. He remembered a time — just like yesterday — when there was.
Somehow at the beach he no longer felt restless. Perhaps he’d satisfied an itch, and now he could
rest. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in then out. Two, three more. Four, five. Seven deep
breaths and he’d fallen asleep.
He opened his eyes to a starless sky. Turned to his right, and saw Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin looked much older now. Baby fat gone, face filled in. Not the doe-eyed nineteen year old
boy in Taehyung’s memory. His eyes were now tired, but still kind and tender. He too was wearing
a hoodie, a nondescript grey color, sleeves worn at the hems.
“Jin?”
No reply.
He wanted to reach out and touch him, but his hand wouldn’t budge. All he could do was stare, and
Seokjin was staring back, not saying a word.
“C-Can you hear me?” Taehyung whispered.
“Of course, silly,” Seokjin murmured, eyes crinkling at the corners.
He shifted onto his side to get a better look at him, and Seokjin mirrored his movement. They lay
face to face with an arm’s length of distance between them.
“You’re getting old,” Taehyung teased, brows furrowed as he carefully studied Seokjin’s face.
“Where did your baby face go?”
“I could ask you the same.”
Taehyung was too calm. His heart beat slow, his breathing steady. He knew this wasn’t real, and
somehow it made him bolder.
[ ♪ Your Ocean ]
“Seokjin-ah. Can I ask you something?”
“Mm.”
“I’ve dreamt about you before. I met you at an empty station, and you were getting on a train. I
tried to stop you but you wouldn’t listen. Where did that train go?”
“Somewhere I didn’t want to go. Somewhere away from you.”
A wave of emotion was rising. Taehyung tried his best to press it down.
Seokjin’s face was very clear under moonlight, like porcelain. The universe seemed to hold him
gently because of it, wind toying with his tresses, delicate.
“Do you think…do you think all those years ago, I made a mistake?”
“What do you mean?” Seokjin blinked back, perplexed.
“When I first kissed you here—” He was crying. “—When I kissed you, and everything changed.
Did you ever resent me for what I did?”
“Why would I resent you?”
“We had such a good thing, didn’t we? I ruined it, didn’t I?”
Seokjin moved closer, enough so that Taehyung could feel the warmth of his breath upon his
cheek. “Do you know how many times I wanted to kiss you, but I was terrified?”
Taehyung shook his head.

“More often than I can say,” he pressed their foreheads together, eyes closing at the touch.
“Jin.”
“Thank you for being brave for the both of us.”
Somewhere in this dream a bird was singing, melody soft and distant but surely there. A
shuddering breath escaped from Taehyung’s lips, a sigh of sorrow but also of relief.
“When I wake up, will you be gone?”
Hot tears rolled down his cheek, salt seeping into the corners of his mouth. Seokjin didn’t answer.
Taehyung tried again. “This isn’t real, is it?”
“This? This isn’t real. But us? We’ve always been.”
---
He opened his eyes to a sky full of stars.
The clouds had parted and the moon was waning and there they were, tiny pin-struck diamonds,
thousands of them. Taehyung turned to his right to see nothing but sand and sea. He ran his palms
over the length of his face and took another deep breath. It’d been so long since he’d seen the stars.
It was almost six in the morning. He laughed at himself for falling asleep on a deserted beach and
prayed he wouldn’t end up with a cold the next day. Dusted off his pants and his sweatshirt, shook
the sand out of his shoes. Parting was such sweet sorrow.
He stole one last glance over his shoulder, memorizing the look of it before setting off. It felt
wrong, for some reason, to immortalize it in a photograph.
The walk back to the apartment was about an hour long, and Taehyung was in no hurry at all. The
sand turned to gravel, and gravel became a paved road. He walked along the shoulder of said road,
moving through the darkness in silence. There wasn’t much to look at on either side, just fields of
tall grass swaying in the wind. From time to time a car would pass, yellow headlights, then red,
then black.
He kept looking up. He couldn’t help it. Kept craning his neck to look up at the stars. Somewhere
on the horizon there lay a sliver of gold, but he couldn’t see it. The world was turning, unfurling
like a flower in bloom. In the not so far distance he could hear birdsong, announcing its awakening,
the arrival of day. He looked up at the sky and laughed. Anyone passing by would perhaps
discount him as mad, but never had he enjoyed such clarity. Ocean air filled his lungs, breathing
new life into him. He let it fill him up until he felt as if he could take flight.
About half an hour into his walk he felt a hum in his pocket, Taehyung digging out his phone to see
Jimin’s caller ID flashing across the screen.
“Oh, Jimin-ah.”
“DON’T OH JIMIN-AH ME. WHERE ARE YOU?” The other line bellowed back.
“I’m taking a walk, you crazy.”
“At THIS hour?”
“Yeah. It feels so nice,” Taehyung chuckled, words carried away by the wind.
“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, worried.
Taehyung’s voice trembled as he spoke. Whether it was the bitter cold or raw emotion to blame, he
couldn’t be sure.
“I’m fine, actually. I’m really good.”

“Why does your voice sound like that? I’m coming to get you.”
“DON’T!” He laughed, shoulders shaking.
“I’m coming, I don’t care. Send me your location, you idiot. I’m coming to get you.”
He did as he was told, sharing his live location with Jimin before tucking his device away once
more. Lifted the sleeves of his hoodie to dab away at his eyes.
Three fourths of the way home, he spotted a figure approaching. Jeju was still sunken in dark blue,
the figure ahead a mere shadow. But from his familiar gait alone he already knew who it was,
Taehyung quickening his pace with confidence, a grin tugging at his lips. The wind battered at his
clothes, and the figure struggled against it too, prompting Taehyung to speed up into a light jog.
The closer he got, the clearer Jimin’s image became. His blonde hair looked like starlight in the
early morning. He wore an old pair of sweats with a puffy jacket thrown over it, as if he’d rolled
out of bed and tossed it on in a hurry.
Taehyung broke into a run, and seconds later Jimin’s small body was colliding into his.
“Pabo,” Jimin huffed, quickly throwing a spare jacket over Taehyung’s shoulders, urging him to
loop his arms through. “Thank god I found you.”
Taehyung shivered, grateful for the sudden warmth.
“And you make fun of me for overpacking. Look at you, you’re freezing.”
“Not anymore.”
“Your hands, they’re like ice,” Jimin tutted, interlacing their fingers together and clutching their
hands close to his chest.
When Taehyung and Jimin were eleven, twelve — he couldn’t remember exactly how old —
they’d gone on a middle school field trip to an amusement park. It was as he and his classmates
were disembarking from the merry-go-round that Taehyung got swept up in the wrong crowd, lost.
Jostled about in the chaos, disoriented and alone; never had he felt so afraid. Never had he been
more relieved when he spotted Jimin and their teacher sprinting towards him through the sea of
people. “Pabo,” little Jimin had reprimanded him before linking their hands together. He didn’t let
go of Taehyung for the rest of their trip.
They slowed to a walk, neither of them in a rush. They strolled hand in hand along the side of the
road, Jimin absentmindedly running his thumb over Taehyung’s knuckles, Taehyung tightening his
grip in return. He could see their building materializing in the distance, tall and proud amongst the
town’s sleepy silhouette, little golden squares of light for windows.
He wondered if the people within those windows ever woke up early enough to see the world in
this state, if they knew heaven was right at their fingertips.
---
The train ride to Busan was uneventful. They boarded the KTX and slipped into their seats, Seokjin
armed with his carry-on and Jungkook with a weekender bag and a backpack full of junk food. Said
backpack crinkled noisily with the slightest movement. The only solution, Jungkook claimed, was
to eat all the snacks on their two hour journey.
By the time they arrived at their hotel it was already late evening. Seokjin’s team members had
arrived earlier than he did, and most of them were already checked in and prepping for the week
ahead. Seokjin fetched his keys from the front desk, detouring to concierge to drag away Jungkook,
who’d been in the middle of a very animated conversation with the staff.
They each picked their sides of the room and settled in for the night. The suite was blessed with
two very fluffy, luxurious beds, with a large floor to ceiling window overlooking half city, half
ocean. Seokjin took a quick shower first before changing into pajamas, sinking into the center of
his mattress and pouring over his work laptop. The first day of the conference would take place at
their hotel, just a quick elevator ride of a commute. The following days were spread out all over the
city. Seokjin wondered if he’d have time to explore.
As if hearing his thoughts, Jungkook piped up next to him: “Yah. When are you done tomorrow?”
“Probably around five. Wanna do something?”

“Concierge gave me some suggestions.” He’d unfolded a tourist map and sprawled it out over his
bed, studying it with endearing intensity. Seokjin didn’t know anyone who used these printed maps
anymore. As young and spritely as Jungkook could be, the boy also possessed some jarring ahjussi
tendencies.
“Anything catch your eye?”
“I don’t know if you’ll be too tired after work, but I was thinking we could go on nightly runs here.
We’re smack-dab on prime running routes.”
“Down. Always down for a run.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
During their short week in Busan, they developed a bit of a routine. Jungkook would work
remotely from their hotel room, complete with a portable double monitor setup. Seokjin remained
largely out and about, hauled from one meeting to the next alongside his teammates. While he
wouldn’t consider any of them his actual friends, the atmosphere amongst them was amicable
enough, and Seokjin felt grateful for their company. In the evenings they’d shuttle back to the
hotel, Seokjin rushing up to their room to swap business casual for running gear. Jungkook would
always be ready, waiting.
They ran along the pathways surrounding Haeundae, chasing sunset. Paused frequently to catch
their breath and take pictures, both of the view and of each other. Technically Jungkook could go
go go for as long as he liked, but often he’d come to a skidding halt and very excitedly point in a
random direction. Usually it was over something miniscule, like a squirrel scaling a tree or a cloud
shaped like a heart. Seokjin liked that about Jungkook very much, his sense of wonder.
Friday night was the only night they did not run. Being the last day of the conference, his boss
traveled down from Seoul and invited everyone out to hwaesik. Seokjin never really enjoyed
hwaesik; seeing the same faces forty hours a week was more than plenty for him. Nevertheless he
tagged along dutifully, venturing up to a rooftop bar looking out on the glittering Gwangan bridge.
Various teams from other companies had convened there as well, the atmosphere lively and
spirited, the outdoor area illuminated by string lights and heat lamps. Seokjin chose to huddle with
some of his more introverted teammates towards the back of the bar, the prospect of networking far
too exhausting for his drained social battery.
He recalled a time when he and Jungkook would frequent Seoul’s rooftop bars for happy hour
specials, how they’d always see little crowds of office workers nervously clustered together in the
very same way. Seokjin laughed and wished Jungkook was there to see it. Did he look like them
now? Did he look nervous and desperate too?
Close to midnight he received a text message from his brother, Seokjin dismissing it in favor of
draining the last of his whisky. His boss, who was presently chatting with another manager from
their company, turned to his side and offered a courteous smile. “You said you’re here with a
friend?”
“Yes,” Seokjin replied, with as much energy as he could muster. “He’s been working from the
hotel this week.”
“Are you two staying for the weekend? Seems like most people are.”
“We are. We’re leaving Monday morning. You’re heading back up tomorrow right?”
“Yeah. Short and sweet. My babies need me.”
At this point he understood that by “babies” she meant her two dogs, Dal and Dubu.
“Are they staying with your sister?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I hope they don’t get in a fight with Bongji again,” she chuckled. Bongji, her
sister’s fussy Russian Blue cat. “Any fun plans for the weekend?”
He thought of the next day ahead, and the day after that, realizing that as far as plans went, he and
Jungkook had nothing. “My friend probably has some ideas,” he bluffed with a shrug. “We’ll play
it by ear.”
“You can get going if you want. No need to hang around for too long. Your friend must be
waiting.”
It caught Seokjin by surprise, the casual manner in which she offered him a way out. Hwaesik had
a way of dragging on for hours, and usually no one left before their boss did. As if sensing his
hesitancy, she followed up with a wave of the hand for emphasis.
“Go on, I mean it. I’m going to head out after I say hi to a couple more people.”
“I—”
“I’m leaving too, Seokjin-ssi,” his coworker cut in, waving her phone at him. “Wanna head down
together?”
One more careful glance at his boss before he realized that it was really okay to leave, Seokjin
offering a quick bow in gratitude.
“I think I’m going to head out then.”
“Get back safe. See you two in Seoul.”
“You too, safe trip back.”
“Call a car and expense it to the company.”
There was a small line leading to the elevator, Seokjin and his colleague sidling up to the end of it,
waiting for their turn. Typical corporate small talk of weekend plans and comments about the
weather. “Heard it’s going to rain,” Eunjung remarked as they squeezed into the elevator car, the
interior noticeably stuffy and stale. “Either Saturday or Sunday.”
“Hope that’s not the case,” Seokjin mumbled, half pressed against the wall.
The air on ground level, sans heat lamps and sweaty bodies, was refreshingly cool. Seokjin stole a
deep breath in and out, relishing in the autumn breeze sweeping past. Eunjung tapped away at her
phone screen, in the process of calling a car back to the hotel.
“Go ahead without me,” Seokjun urged.

She paused to eye him curiously. “Why? How are you getting back?”
“I’m too tipsy right now,” he lied. “If I get in a car I might throw up. I need to walk it off a bit.”
“Wow, for someone that drunk you sure hide it well,” she smirked, impressed. “You sure though?
Need me to keep you company?”
“I’m fine, sunbae. Thank you.”
“Get back safe.”
“You too.”
Busan was a big city, but if you walked along the water’s edge and turned to look back, it had a
way of feeling quite small. The buildings by the shore sat low and squat, the scent of the sea thick
and deceiving; Seokjin felt he was much farther away from Seoul than he really was. The
Gwangan bridge stood proud above the water, Seokjin pausing in his steps to take a photo of its
grandeur.
A couple of buskers camped out along the sidewalk, singing sad songs for no one to hear. A boy
no older than himself was belting “Tomboy” by Hyukoh into a mic, voice reverberating onto a
nearly empty beach. Every “Ohhhhh” sounded so heartbroken. Seokjin hummed along quietly so
that he wasn’t singing alone.
His phone was buzzing again, another useless push notification from his running app. Nevertheless
it reminded him of the text from his brother earlier, Seokjin scrolling to his messages to read that
instead.
Seokjung: Are you gonna meet up with Changmin?
Seokjin walked as he typed.
Seokjin: I dont ewven know him

Seokjung: Yes you do
Seokjung: We hung out with him last time
Seokjin: One teime tho
Seconds later, his phone rang with an incoming call.
“Mm, hyung.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No. A little buzzed. Why?”
“Your texts look crazy.”
“It’s dark. I can’t really see, and I’m walking right now.”
“By yourself?”
“Mm.”
“Where’s Jungkook?”
“At the hotel. I was at a work thing.”
“How was it?”
“Fine. The view from the bar was nice.”
“Cool. Anyway, do you and Jungkook have plans this weekend?”

“I think he wants to go to Gamcheon. See the Little Prince.”
“Ah yeah, worth the trip,” Seokjung chuckled. “Might as well reach out to Changmin, too. He’s
free.”
“Won’t it be awkward?”
“Didn’t you guys have a moment last time?”
“Kinda. Did he say that?”
“Yeah. He’s surprised you haven’t hit him up yet.”
“Ah, really?”
“He’s family. Don’t be afraid to reach out to him.”
Somehow the word family stirred something within him painfully, Seokjin releasing a shaky
exhale before finally conceding. “Fine, I will.” The busker’s song had dissipated, and now all he
could hear were ocean waves.
“What are you doing, hyung?”
“You remember Jaeyoung? My high school buddy?”
“Vaguely, yeah.”
“I’m staying at his place. We’re just watching the game right now.”
“Staying over?” Seokjin asked, curiosity piqued. No matter how late Seokjung stayed out, even
after a night of drinking and debauchery, he somehow always made it home. It was unlike him to
do anything otherwise.
“Yeah. Been here a couple days.”
“Couple days?” Seokjin balked, alarmed. “Why?”
“Ah. Just…” He could hear Seokjung shuffling about on the other line, the sounds of him rising up
and retreating to someplace quieter. “Just don’t want to go home right now.”
“Why?”
Pin-drop silence.
“Hyung, did something happen? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Seokjin-ah. I’ll tell you later.”
“Why? Why not now.”
“I’m going to tell you. I meant to tell you, eventually. But I don’t…I don’t know if now’s a good
time. You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”
“I was buzzed, that’s all. I’m sober now. Just tell me.”
A troubling hush fell over the call, Seokjin’s heart pounding wildly against his ribcage, wind
whistling past his ears, the tips of them red and numb. He could feel the weight of Seokjung’s
silence, and his worry multiplied by the second. His older brother never struggled this much with
his words.
“So…mom and dad.”

“Yes?”
“Appa.”
“Mm?”
“Appa’s having an affair.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. A bicyclist zipped past, hurtling curses. Seokjin couldn’t hear any of
it. Stopped dead on the sidewalk and blinked blearily at concrete. After god knows how long he
gathered himself enough to muster a broken “What?”
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I wish I could’ve told you in person.”
The conversation was too heavy for Seokjin to carry it on foot. Very slowly, mind out of body, he
lowered himself so that he sat on the edge of the sidewalk, feet dipping into cold sand.
“How long?” He murmured, everything numb.
“Been going on for years, apparently.”
“Di-Did Eomma know?”
“I think she’s suspected. But she never had evidence until now.”
Dizzy. He felt dizzy. “What kind of evidence?”
“Text messages. Classic, isn’t it?” Seokjung chuckled bitterly. “Few days ago he just came back
from Hong Kong. Another work trip, or so he said. Left his work phone on the dining room table,
which he never does. Couple texts came in and Eomma happened to see. She stormed into their
room and yanked him out by the collar.”
“Were you home?”
“I was having dinner, yeah. But I went into my room pretty quickly.”
The familiar image of Seokjung cowering in his room flashed across his mind. A thousand and one
times and it still cut him deep.
“Fight didn’t last long. Eomma was hysterical, Appa wasn’t having it. Zero remorse. He literally
just came back from his trip but within minutes he was gone again. I think he’s probably in Hong
Kong again.”
“Is that…is that where his mistress is?”
“Dongho. His name is Dongho.”
Seokjin’s blood froze over.
“And yes, he’s there.”
For a while neither of them spoke, Seokjin paralyzed in his place. The world continued to turn, the
city slinking past in the quiet.
“Part of me pitied Eomma. I didn’t know what to do, so eventually I came out of my room to check
on her. But the moment I appeared she went off on me instead. Said it’s my fault for all of this
happening. Said that I’m the reason why this family fell apart. That I taught you bad things, that
you rebelled because of my example. Said that…” Seokjung swallowed thickly. “That if I were a
better son maybe our dad wouldn’t be running away from our family all the time.”
Before he knew it, hot tears were streaming down Seokjin’s face.
“But I don’t think that’s true, is it?” Seokjung whispered. “It’s not because of me, right?”
Seokjin gave him a warbled response, tears trickling into the corners of his mouth. “It’s not.”
“I had to leave,” Seokjung continued. “I know she’s hurting, but her words hurt me too. I know I
don’t show it but…ah. Maeumi apa.”
He buried his face in his hands, tears seeping between the cracks of his fingers.
“I’ll have to go back eventually. Dad will too. And I’m scared, I’m scared of that day so I’m hiding
right now. There’s only so much I can take, and I don’t owe them any more than that. Neither do
you. You hear me, Seokjin-ah? You don’t owe them anything, you hear me?”
Even in his own pain, Seokjung was worrying about him.
Try as he might, the tears wouldn’t stop. He must’ve looked pathetic, folded in half over the curb,
cloud of alcohol swirling around him, face streaked wet, cheeks stained and raw. Perhaps at one
point in his life he would’ve worried about appearances, but that day he was far past the point of
caring. The sea came and went without ceasing, waves crashing on the shore. He couldn’t stop
crying, like a dam had been broken. He no longer knew what he was crying for.
Very softly his brother’s voice drifted in through the phone’s receiver, warm against his ear. “Have
you been hurting, Seokjin-ah?”
The weather had cooled, goosebumps rising on his skin. Dark clouds were rolling over, night
cloaking over him like a blanket.
Seokjin cried openly, like a kid who’d fallen and scraped up their knee. Gasping for breath, body
trembling until it drained everything out of him. Seokjung stayed on the phone with him until the
very end, listening. Heard every cry and gave his sorrow a home.
---
He texted Changmin the next day.
In the morning Jungkook and Seokjin took a bus to Gamcheon Village in search of the Little Prince
at the top of the hill. They trekked through winding alleyways, up and down narrow steps until
they found him perched on a railing overlooking the colorful hillside. There was a long line to see
him, and the two of them waited their turn to pose with the elusive celebrity.
In the evening, Changmin invited them over for dinner at his family’s apartment. “My mom wants
to see you,” he said to Seokjin, quelling any qualms he might’ve harbored towards the proposition.
“She hasn’t seen you in years.”
Their apartment was much smaller than Seokjin imagined it to be. The way Seokjung had
described it to him made the space sound very grand, but then again everything seemed larger
when you yourself were small.
His aunt and uncle greeted the two guests warmly, despite not having seen Seokjin in years and
meeting Jungkook for the very first time. She vaguely resembled his own mother, the same
upturned nose and high cheekbones, albeit a little shorter, stouter, kinder. Strange, how two sisters
could end up worlds apart.
“Aigooooo, look how cute you are!” She greeted Jungkook, taking an immediate liking to him. It
was hard not to, with the boy smiling so widely, bunny teeth and all.
Dinner was already laid out on the table upon their arrival. Seokjin and Jungkook waited for the
elders to sit before settling into their end of the table. Chairs from other rooms had been pulled up
to accommodate them, Jungkook swiveling about in an office chair with squeaky wheels.
The food was good, the conversation even better. Changmin’s mother was warm and funny, asking
the two boys from Seoul all sorts of questions, all the while avoiding any talk of Seokjin’s family
with the exception of Seokjung. His father possessed a booming laugh, initially giving Jungkook a
bit of a fright before he grew accustomed to it. Halfway through dinner Seokjin stole a glance at
Changmin, at the laugh lines etched in his tanned face. Of course Seokjung was happy here.
Anyone would be.
“It’s been a while since Seokjungie’s visited us,” she said. “You brothers should come stay for the
weekend next time.”
“Next time for sure.”
“You too, Jungkook-ah,” she leaned over, placing another prime piece of galbi in Jungkook’s bowl.
He beamed at her through a mouthful of food.
Post-dinner they took a walk in the pathways surrounding the complex. Auntie and uncle strolled
along easy and unhurried, the three boys slowing down to match their languid pace. Uncle pointed
to the outline of mountains in the distance. Spoke of how their colors would change during sunset,
green to blue to black. Other families greeted auntie and uncle with familiarity, their children
running up to them to offer customary greetings, the adults pausing in their walks to catch up in the
low evening light.
“These are my kids from Seoul,” she proclaimed proudly without further explanation. “Aren’t they
handsome?”
The other parents didn’t question it, merely flashed warm smiles and laid on sweet words. “So
handsome. As expected of Seoul boys.” Jungkook stood a little taller, puffed his chest out a little
wider.
At the end of the night Changmin drove them back to the hotel. The drive was long but the view
was beautiful. Bright bridges, endless water.
Seokjin wanted to see Changmin again.
“Are you free tomorrow too, hyung?”
“Of course. Anything for family.”
---
On their last evening in Busan, they asked Changmin to take them to the beach he showed Seokjin
last time: Dadaepo. The agreement was that Jungkook and Seokjin would complete a nice running
loop while Changmin would wait for them on the beach and drink. Then they’d reconvene after
thirty minutes or so and head off to dinner in Seomyeon.
“Hi hyung,” Seokjin chirped cheerfully as Changmin’s car pulled up to the hotel roundabout. The
elder did a once-over of the boys’ running attire and let out an amused chuckle.
“Not too late to join us, hyung,” Jungkook offered, sliding into the backseat as Seokjin climbed
into the front.
“Nah, you guys look way too cool for me.”
“We’re trying our best for you, hyung.”
They caught a glimpse of the ocean before veering off into the city roads. Seokjin wondered if the
people of Busan ever got sick of it, the view of the sea. He didn’t think he ever could.
“My mom keeps going on about Seokjungie,” Changmin chuckled as he fiddled with the radio. “I
miss my baby, I miss my baby. You’ve really got to bring him down soon, she’s driving me nuts.”
“He said he was busy this weekend. But we’ll pick a date that works for both of us next time.”
“Busy with that girl, isn’t he?”
“Huh? What girl?”
“Forget it, I don’t know.”
Daedaepo was mostly deserted, a flat grey expanse framed by silent green mountains. Beyond the
sand lay a brooding ocean, darker than most days, a reflection of the muggy sky above. Changmin
parked in the same lot as last time, the three of them hopping out of the sedan en route to the beach.
“You guys can start on this path,” Changmin gestured towards the wooden walkway, six-pack of
beer dangling between his fingers. “Circle back when you’re done and find me.” He gave the beers
a tiny shake. “This’ll be your reward.”
The two stepped to the side to get some stretches in before their run, twisting this way and that,
shaking their limbs loose. Watched as Changmin trekked down the beach on his lonesome,
shoulders slumped, very nonchalant like a true local.
Eunjung had said it would rain over the weekend. Saturday seemed to refute her claim, but Sunday
could very well prove her right. The air around them hung heavy and humid, the thick clouds
above them still and unmoving, like the calm before the storm.
“He’s so cool, your cousin,” Jungkook gushed through choppy breaths as they began running. “I
wanna be just like him when I grow up.”
“You are a grown up.”
Not long into their run and they’d already broken into a sweat, beads of it trickling down their
necks, shirts sticking to them like a second skin. Steady traffic passed them by, cars rolling
forward at a leisurely rate.
“Would you ever move here?” Seokjin asked.
“I don’t know. Never considered it. Why?”
“Something about the ocean is really amazing, isn’t it?”
“True. Imagine being able to come here everyday.”
“Seokjung grew up here. He and Changmin used to swim at this beach all the time.”
“Your brother really feels like a Busan man. You think he’ll ever move back?”
“I could see it.”
Per Changmin’s instructions they detoured from the seaside route, crossing the main road and onto
a sidewalk lined with storefronts. Seokjin eyed each one as they passed, throat parched. They
zipped past a laundromat, a locksmith, a bookstore, and then his eyes lit up as they rounded a
corner upon a convenience store. Jungkook seemed to be on the same page.
“Let’s stop here.”

They burst through the narrow door of the shop, the ahjussi manning the counter sparing them a
glimpse before turning back to focus on the game. Seokjin hastened towards the beverage aisle
while Jungkook beelined for the ice cream box in the back, the sound of crinkling plastic
obnoxiously loud in the otherwise quiet store. Seokjin waited for Jungkook to finish his digging
before approaching the counter and paying for them both.
“Why’d you get two ice creams?”
“What, you don’t want it?”
“I mean I like it but…is it okay to eat this then run?”
“Kinda the same as drinking water, no?”
A little different, but Seokjin shrugged his shoulders in relent and handed over his card.
Each of them took turns guzzling down water before peeling back the plastic on their melon bars.
In the pressing humidity it was key to eat quickly, the two perched quietly under the awning of the
store, careful not to drip in the process. Jungkook unsurprisingly finished his portion first,
twiddling the stained wooden stick between his fingers.
Seokjin cleared his throat.
“I had a dream about Taehyung.”
He was met with wide eyes, raised brows. “What about?”
“Nothing crazy. The two of us were just talking.”
“Wow.”
“I said a lot of things in my dream. Things I’ve always wanted to say when I’m awake. When I
realized it wasn’t real…I don’t know. I found myself wishing it was.”
“You gonna do it?”
“Yeah. As soon as we get back.”
He eventually gnawed the wooden stick down to splinters, Jungkook holding out his handiwork to
admire it before tossing it in the trash. Seokjin nibbled off the last of his popsicle, letting the taste
of sweet melon melt onto his tongue.
“How do you feel?”
“Scared shitless.”
“You’re the bravest person I know,” Jungkook said so casually, no eye contact.
“Learned it from you.”
“Nah,” the boy shook his head, gaze shifting shyly to his feet. For a brief moment Seokjin caught a
glimpse of fifteen year old Jungkook. Even after all this time, there were traces of him still there.
It was somewhere in the quiet that a sudden thought occurred to Seokjin.
“Wait. He’s…is he seeing anyone right now?”
“Taehyung? Nope, he isn’t. Dating’s not even on his radar right now.”
A sigh of relief. “Okay.”
“Can I ask you something, Jin?”

“Yeah.”
“Have you ever thought about seeing anyone else?”
It was a good and valid question.
Even at the southernmost tip of the peninsula, with the city quieted to slow footsteps and ocean
waves, still a countless slew of people passed them by, people that he’d likely never meet; let alone
the rest of the world that now seemed to lay at Seokjin’s feet.
“I mean I could,” Seokjin began carefully. “But I don’t want to.”
Jungkook nodded.
“Taehyung and I…feel like we never got a proper chance.” A pause. “I never really gave it a shot.”
“Mm.”
“And uh, I don’t know,” he stammered, voice cracking. “It-It sounds stupid but I can’t really move
on until I’ve tried.”
Tears were welling and threatening to spill over. Jungkook broke into a smile.
“Why’re you staring at me like that.”
“You’re even handsome when you cry.”
“Shut up.”
For the majority of the route they’d taken it easy, but as the pair circled back towards the beach
they couldn’t help but notice the sky above, clouds hanging so low they looked close enough to
touch. In unanimous agreement they quickened their steps, ultimately breaking into a proper run.
[ ♪ Midnight Sun ]
“You wanna go for a swim?” Seokjin yelled over the sound of their pounding feet. The beach had
materialized into view, dark water on the horizon.
“Are you insane?”
“Cool, so we’re doing this.” He flashed a devilish grin and received an evil cackle in return.
Sand flew in every which way as they sprinted for the shore. Aside from Changmin sitting on his
lonesome there was hardly anyone else in their vicinity. Probably for the best, judging by
Changmin’s expression as he turned around to see them charging towards him. They must’ve
looked insane.
“Hyung! Come swimming with us!”
Changmin spat out his drink. “WHAT?”
“Just come!” Jungkook bellowed, pants flying over his shoulder. He and Seokjin hardly slowed as
they ran past, chucking their shoes and clothes onto the sand beside Changmin, beelining for the
ocean, stripped down to their underwear.
“MAH, the water’s freezing, you crazy?” They could hear the elder protesting, yet neither showed
any intent of turning back.
Before they knew it their feet met the sea. The water was just as cold as Changmin had promised.
Like ice, thousands of diamonds kissing their toes. They pummeled ahead regardless, reckless and
alive. Water lapped at their ankles, waves crashed at their knees. Stumbled forward and picked
themselves back up, yelping and laughing. Waist deep, neck deep, and then their feet lifted off the
ground, only the cold ocean passing beneath them.
“Seokjin-ah!” He swiveled around to see Changmin’s head bobbing not far behind him in the
water. “You okay?”
He lifted his hand in the air, signaling a big thumbs up to quell his hyung’s nerves. He was okay.
He was going to be okay. He’d never been more sure of it.
The farther they swam the calmer the waves, the boys paddling out until their arms grew tired and
sore. The grey of the sky blended in with the moody sea, mountains seated on either side, silent and
waiting. They let themselves rise and fall with the waves, the adrenaline from before dying down
to something sacred.
There were moments in life that were sure to become a core memory; a defining point in time, an
unforgettable feeling. Seokjin was keenly aware that this was one of them. He watched as
Jungkook tilted his head until he was floating on his back, chin lifted towards the sky, wholly
trusting in the water.
He and Changmin followed Jungkook’s lead. Leaned back just to float. Closed his eyes, everything
going dark. But the darkness was no longer scary, and the water no longer felt cold. Just felt like a
part of him.
At first he thought it was just the spray from the waves, but he quickly realized that it wasn’t.
Little droplets tip-tapping upon his cheeks, Seokjin blinking open to a sky letting go.
Rain.
What began as a drizzle quickly multiplied into a downpour. Jungkook let out a screech, Seokjin a
cackle, all of the sound drowned out by the roar of storm meeting sea. Soon the world surrounding
them became a blur, silhouettes shrouded behind curtains of rain. Nothing was certain, but
everything was beautiful. Through the sheets of grey he could see Jungkook slicking back the hair
from his face, taking a deep, gasping breath. He could hear Changmin’s voice not far behind him:
“All my life, I’ve never seen anything like this.”
It felt surreal, all of it. Seokjin blinked back the rain and stretched out his hand to the sky, pruney
fingers and all. Is this real? Is all of this real?
Alive, every fiber of him alive.
“Ugh, this feels so good,” he said to no one. “God, I love the rain.”
---
“Eomeonim.”
“Seokjin-ah! Oh my, I wasn’t expecting a call from you. How are you doing, adeul?”
“Good, really good. Just got back from a business trip in Busan.”
“I heard, Jungkookie’s Eomma told me. Did you two have fun?”
“A lot, yeah. Even though it rained on our last day.”
“Aigoo. You managed to stay out of it?”
“Got caught in it but it wasn’t so bad.”
“You kids. If you feel sick just call me, okay? I can drop off some jook for you.”
“We’ll be fine, Eomeonim. Speaking of dropping off, I need to return that umbrella I borrowed
from you.”
“You still remember? So thoughtful of you. You can keep it—”
“It’s okay, I have my own now.”

“Alright. Well come over whenever, dear. I’ll make you dinner.”
“To think of it, jook does sound pretty good.”
“Of course. I’ll make all the things you like. What day works for you?”
“Is this weekend okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“Will Taehyung be home?”
“He will be.”
---
[ ♪ Dear Love ]
The first day back from vacation never fared easy. A passive sun dipped in and out of the clouds,
an autumnal chill descending upon the city of Seoul. He spent most of his workday zoning out of
meetings, daydreaming of the sea.
The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough, Seokjin bidding a hurried goodbye to his colleagues
before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. No remarkable plans for the evening,
aside from trying out a new recipe Jimin had sent him a couple days ago. Said recipe required
rather eccentric ingredients, which merited a trip to a niche grocery store a couple neighborhoods
over. Not that Seokjin minded the detour. It was nice to veer off the beaten path.
Rush hour was in full bloom, the crowds spilling over the crosswalks as office workers muscled
their way from one end of the street to the other. Seokjin followed them without much thought,
finding his place in the stream of commuters milling into the subway station. Tapped his card
against the turnstile and pushed his way through, ascending the escalator to a raised platform,
tracks on either side running in opposite directions.
It was chillier standing on the open-aired platform, the structure of it creating somewhat of a wind
tunnel. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm, plugged his headphones in and dialed
to his playlist of current favorites. Ever since he’d heard the busker sing “Tomboy” at Gwangan,
the sad little song never quite left his head. It was just as he meant to press play that he froze in his
place, eyes locked on something — someone — not far up ahead.
I’m probably seeing things, he rationalized, albeit refusing to look away. The figure was moving
with unwavering precision, maneuvering through the crowd like they’d done it a thousand times
and one. Bit by bit the sea of heads began to obscure him from view, Seokjin’s own feet pressing
forward without thinking. Slow at first before quickly picking up his pace.
“YAH, watch where you’re going!” A man barked as Seokjin bumped into him in his haste.
“Sorry,” he muttered breathlessly, barreling past. A train was coming, south-bound, familiar rush
of wind sweeping through the station upon its arrival. The person just up ahead had stopped in his
place, Seokjin coming to a halt a short distance behind. Too many people crowded together,
shoulder to shoulder, breaths mingled. Even if Seokjin craned his neck he could barely get a proper
glimpse.
With a gentle melody the doors of the train slid open, people rushing out, more people rushing in.
It was then in the chaos that he spotted his side profile, Seokjin decidedly breaking into a small
run. He came to a screeching stop just as the doors closed, the sudden movement catching the
attention of the person on the other side.
Taehyung looked up just in time to see Seokjin standing there, staring back at him.
Before either had time to register what was happening, the train was lurching forward; Taehyung
slipping away, Seokjin’s jaw going slack, dumbfounded.
On the other side of the platform, another train was approaching, Seokjin only faintly aware of it
and consumed by the pounding of his own heart in his eardrums. He could hear the doors of his
train on the opposite end sliding open and close, could hear the squeak of the wheels as the train
departed without him. He never bothered to look back.
The next south-bound train would arrive in two minutes, the reader-board said.
None of this made sense. Not a single cell in his brain was working in his favor. He had a plan, a
good plan, and this, all of this, was nowhere in his cards. So what if he got on the next train after
Taehyung. What was he to do — blindly follow, always one step behind? Nervous laughter
bubbled over in his panicked state, Seokjin’s last sliver of sanity fried to a crisp. One look at
Taehyung and he couldn’t walk away.
After their falling out he’d erased all traces of Taehyung from his phone, and as far as he was
concerned the same had been done vice versa. Nevertheless he combed desperately through his
text records, dismayed to find that somehow in his anguish he’d deleted those, too.
Think, think, think.
The announcements on the loudspeaker above interrupted his thoughts, heralding the arrival of
another south-bound train. Seokjin crowded to the very edge of the platform, legs shaking as said
train pulled in, packed to the brim with passengers. Waited for them to disembark before squeezing
onto the stuffy car and camping out right by the door.
He needed help before he rightly lost his mind.
Seokjin: Jimin, quick what’s Taehyung’s number?
A sharp jerk, and the train was moving forward again.
They sped past the humdrum cityscape of Seoul, Seokjin’s whole body trembling in the waiting.
Other commuters seemed oblivious to his turmoil, playing games on their phone, nodding off.
Seokjin wished he could borrow even an ounce of their nonchalance.
The next stop would be in several minutes. What if Taehyung had gotten off already?
Seokjin: Jungkook-ah, what’s Taehyung’s number?
Buildings gleamed under an impassive sun.
Scrolling frantically through KaKao, he pulled up an old group-chat Hoseok created when news
broke of Taehyung’s canceled wedding.
Seokjin: Hey guys, anyone have Tae’s number?
No response.
Had everyone died?
Daylight slipped away as they entered a tunnel, everything devolving to black save for the neon ads
flashing beyond the dusty windows. Breathe, he willed himself. If you don’t find him this time you
can always find him the next. But another voice, more dogged and stubborn, protested fervently: I
saw him now. I need to see him again.
He willed his mind to quiet. Leaned against the pole, cold metal to his temple. Crossed his arms
across his chest and took deep, practiced breaths. Let his mind wander off to somewhere different.
Somehow it wandered all the way back to Jimin’s high school graduation speech.
Many of his classmates hadn’t been listening. Some of them were sleeping, others giggling and
whispering amongst themselves. Seokjin had hung onto every word. Not because the class
president happened to be his good friend Park Jimin, but because his good friend Jimin always had
something interesting to say.
Scary isn’t it? Growing up.
“Life’s like this: when you’re young, you’re buckled into the backseat of a car. Someone else is
sitting in the driver’s seat. All you have to do is follow their lead.”
“You grow up, and suddenly you’re dropped off at a train station. Suddenly you’re on your own.
You look around and there’s trains going in all different directions, and every train comes with
many different stops.”
Seokjin remembered glancing at Taehyung as Jimin spoke. Remembered the unreadable expression
on his best friend’s face and wondered what he was thinking, if Taehyung was just as afraid as he
was.
“For a long time I believed this: that I’d get on the right train on my first try, that I’d get off at the
right stop, everything according to plan. But life doesn’t always go the way we’d like it to. We’ll
get on the wrong train once or twice, maybe more. Sit too long and miss our stop, get lost along the
way.”
Why am I thinking about this, Seokjin brooded, brow creasing in frustration. Is it because I’m on a
train right now, having an existential meltdown?
“The world might tell you otherwise, but it’s okay if you get lost. Step off the train and smell the
roses for a while. Get on another track and try again.”
How did Jimin know all of this at nineteen?
The train was emerging from the tunnel, dark yielding to light. Seokjin’s eyes fluttered open, heart
thrumming about wildly as the voice in the loudspeaker announced their arrival at the next station,
Seongsu. He took another peek at his phone, absolutely beside himself upon seeing yet another
blank screen.
Seokjin: HELP ME!! D: D:
Jimin: Sorry! Was in a meeting
Jimin: Tae’s number? Hold on
Jimin: 2-XXXX-XXXX
He could feel the train decelerating to a rolling stop, Seokjin copying the number with shaking
hands and pasting it into a new message. Breath hitched in his throat as he clumsily typed out a
question:
Seokjin: Where are you?
Seconds later:
2-XXXX-XXXX: I’m at the bottom of the stairs. Seongsu station, exit 2.

The doors opened with a ding, Seokjin promptly bursting through them.
He sprinted across the busy platform, bag bouncing wildly against his hip. Skidded to a halt in
front of the station map, quickly scanning the signage before taking off again in the right direction.
Crowds parted for him as he dashed between them like a madman. Not a care in the world for what
he looked like, even if he looked positively insane.
He’d always been a little crazy, if anyone paid close enough attention.
Exit 2 boasted a lengthy escalator to the right and a flight of stairs to the left. He hightailed it past
the congested escalator, flying down the steps faster than his feet could carry him. Sunlight poured
into the mouth of the station, and Seokjin hurled himself right into it.
For a moment he stood under the blinding light and squinted, eyes adjusting to the brightness of his
surroundings. Head swiveled back and forth, searching, chest heaving as he ran a hand through his
frazzled hair.
He nearly got thrown off balance when he felt a sharp tug on the strap of his shoulder bag.
Tumbled backwards a few steps before catching his balance, then catching the eyes of Taehyung
gazing back at him with a sheepish smile.
“I was wondering how long you’d keep me waiting,” was the first thing he said.
Seokjin let out a sharp breath, tried his best not to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m here. I’m here now.”
Chapter End Notes
Yes, there is an epilogue after this! It'll be lengthy and I promise you, you'll see a ton
of Taejin. It's all Taejin.
This chapter makes references to many of the previous ones. The beach is yes, that
beach. There've been hints of Seokjin's father's affair sprinkled throughout, i.e.
sneaking out of the hotel late at night, missing Christmas with his mom, his jarring
silence when Seokjin comes out.
That Vmin scene is probably my favorite one that I've written. Visually,
emotionally...it's the pinnacle of joy for Taehyung's character. If you've ever watched
the music video for Yellow by Coldplay, the scene where Jimin walks towards
Taehyung is HEAVILY inspired by the beginning of that MV. Where Chris Martin is
walking towards the camera and everything is dark blue.
Usually I don't take the time to explain certain subtleties but I want to make it crystal
clear since this is the last chapter before the epilogue.
1. Taejin having shared dreams is truly up to your own interpretation. I'm not even
sure what to make of it. I do think we live in a spiritual world and we're able to tap into
it best through our dreams.
2. Very small detail but Tae has a framed picture of him and Jimin at the amusement
park somewhere in his room, mentioned this in passing several chapters back. That
picture was taken on this trip where he gets lost.
3. Seokjin running into the ocean is a big moment. If you recall several chapters ago
when he and Changmin had a heart to heart on the beach, Seokjin mentioned that he
wanted to go in the water, but something was holding him back. Now that he's living in
accordance to his truest self, nothing hinders him from being happy and free.
4. Changmin having Seokjin's back while they're swimming mirrors when

Changmin/Seokjung were young, and Changmin would swim behind Seokjung to
make sure he was okay.
5. The rain metaphor I'm sure you guys understand haha. He loves the rain, he loves
himself.
6. Jimin's graduation speech sums up the heart of this story. If you go all the way back
to the actual scene in Part 1, I purposely omitted the actual content of his speech (up
until now). But I do mention that Seokjin pays close attention, and at one point he does
glance at Taehyung as well. Growing up is scary and it's a universal experience, hence
why I've enjoyed writing about coming of age so much. Through sharing my story
with you all, I've realized that I'm not alone in both my joys and my sorrows.
7. Taehyung tugging on Seokjin's bag is an old habit of theirs from high school.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for keeping up with this story, for showing me
encouragement and support all along the way. Some of you guys have been following
AOML for 2 years...INSANE how time flies. Thank you for sticking with me
throughout this pandemic, for lifting me up when I was reallyyyyy burnt out. I hope
these characters + their journey have provided some semblance of comfort/relief for
you as well.
I'll post a much sappier end note on the last chapter. For now, PLEASE DON'T BE A
SILENT READER AND SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME! I don't bite and I
SERIOUSLY cherish every single comment, and I reply to everyone.
Not sure when I'll be posting the epilogue but it might be in a couple months time.
Take care until then. <3
EPILOGUE
Chapter Notes
Thank you for waiting. <3
This chapter went from 10K to 15K to 18K to 25K. I just kept adding fluff. I want you
guys to be happy.
Enjoy.
“The thing is, Jin, I watched the two of you grow up together. Never told you this but there were
many times where I’d walk past the windows of our hallway and see the two of you running around
on the track field, just the two of you, no one else, screaming and laughing and falling over
yourselves and I remember thinking, wow, look at these idiots. The two happiest idiots I’d ever
seen.
Life has been complicated for you. But all factors removed, it’s actually plain and simple. You’re
the happiest when you’re together.”
3 Years Later
He watched the warmth of his breath leave his lips in the form of a cloud. Watched it curl into the
air like smoke before being swallowed by the night. An oddly satisfying sight to behold despite the
bitter chill, the kind of cold that sunk deep into your bones.
It made more sense for him to wait in the car, but he’d been cooped up in the office all day and his
body desperately needed a good stretch. He twisted his torso this way and that, his down coat
rustling with every movement. In the past year he underwent a terrible bout of back pain, a
suffering he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy.
There were several other cars parked in the pick-up area, some stalling with their headlights on,
others lurking quietly in the shadows, all of them waiting. Seokjin kept his eyes trained on the
entryway of the building, the halls of the station dimly lit, its stands shuttered and closed for the
night. A line of idling taxis obscured some of his view, half of the drivers with their windows
rolled down, cigarette smoke wafting from between the cracks.
The last train had finally arrived. An incoming text flashed across Seokjin’s screen: Just got off. He
tucked the device back into his pocket and looked up to see the first wave of passengers trickling
down the steps, the vacancy signs of every taxi blinking on, at the ready.
He craned his neck to get a better view, scanning the sparse crowd billowing onto ground level. It
didn’t take long for him to spot them. Seokjin lifted his hand, offering a small wave and a big
smile. “Hyung.”
The car ride to the hotel usually took thirty minutes, but with minimal traffic the ETA cut down to
just twenty. He helped them pack their luggage into the trunk before pulling out of the station, heat
cranked to full blast, music on the low.
“It’s so much colder here,” Seokjung cupped his hands over the car’s vents. “Still not used to it.”
“Busan’s made you weak.”
“Without a doubt.”
The interior quickly became toasty warm, Seokjung stretching his long legs like a cat, slipping a
knitted beanie off of his head and cradling it in his hands. Seokjin cast a sidelong glance before
clearing his throat with a question.
“She made that for you?”
His brother nodded, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.
“Looks really nice. Why hasn’t she made me anything?”
“I’m sure she would if you asked.”

“Why do I have to ask? I’m her brother-in-law.”
“She can’t read your mind, Jin-ah.”
“Disappointing.”
“Yah, you punk. Maybe if you guys were a bit nicer to each other—”
Seokjin took advantage of the red light to peek over his shoulder, gaze sweeping across her
sleeping form before whipping back towards the front.
“She’s ALWAYS the instigator,” he seethed. “You’ve seen the way she bullies me.”
Seokjung snickered, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you pick fights too, kiddo.”
To which Seokjin let out a huff in defeat.
It was mid December, just shy of Christmas, their vehicle careening past a blur of colored lights,
Seoul dressed to the nines for the holiday festivities. The GPS’s drone-like voice announced a turn
up ahead, Seokjin dutifully flicking on his turn signal before switching to the far right lane. Given
his relative inexperience behind the wheel, he turned out to be a surprisingly smooth driver.
“Thanks for picking us up so late.”
“Of course. Thanks for coming, hyung.”
“You kidding? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Yeah. Can’t believe it’s so soon.”

“I know. Time flies, doesn’t it.”
The car veered onto a quieter road, the two sides lined by arching trees with thick canopies,
forming a tunnel of sorts and blocking out the rest of the city. Seokjin loved taking this route, the
intimacy of it. It no longer felt like Seoul.
“You nervous?” His older brother peered at him.
“I was fine until a couple days ago…and then it finally hit me. Now I can’t focus at work. Can’t
sleep.” Seokjin paused. “In a good way.”
“Gotta get your beauty sleep in.”
“Did you feel this way too?”
“Me?” Seokjung pursed his lips in thought. “I mean our whole thing was super informal. But even
so, signing the papers was scary. My hands…you remember, my hands were shaking.”
“Oh of course, I remember,” Seokjin cackled. “I didn’t get it then but I totally get it now.” He
sighed, fingers drumming against the leather of the steering wheel. “Why do you think we get
scared like this when we already know what’s going to happen?”
“It’s a big moment, I think that’s all it is. Happens only once in a lifetime.”
A sleek high rise materialized in the near distance, the GPS announcing their imminent arrival.
Seokjung leaned forward to get a better glimpse of the building, all twenty nine stories of it, the
ground level entrance boasting a dazzling lobby decked out in holiday decor.
“You didn’t have to book us such a nice place,” Seokjung murmured, soaking in the grandeur of it
all as Seokjin pulled up to the porte-cochère.
“Hyung. I already feel bad enough putting you guys in a hotel.”

“You're putting us in the lap of luxury, why are you apologizing?”
“It’s the least I can do for you guys.”
With a pop of the trunk the bellboys rushed forward to retrieve the luggage, Seokjin clambering
over to offer his help, Seokjung climbing out of the front seat to ease open the back door. Very
carefully he leaned in close to her ear, giving her cheek a gentle pat.
“Honey, we’re here.”
Like a fish out of water Jia woke with a violent jerk, nearly knocking her head right into
Seokjung's. “Sorry,” she sputtered, sweeping the hair out of her face. “Didn’t think I would pass
out like that. Fuck, I’m getting old.”
“Don’t say you’re old. How do you think I feel,” her husband teased as he guided her out of the car.
She fumbled a bit over her own feet before steadying herself on his arm, leaning her tired head
against his shoulder for support.
“Grandma. You’re awake.” Seokjin was at it again.
Jia didn’t spare him a second, not one.
“We’re the same age so what does that say about you?”
“Seokjin-ah, go back and rest,” Seokjung cut in quickly. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Right. Keys,” Seokjin pressed the hotel keycard into Seokjung’s hand. “Twenty-sixth floor, same
as Changmin hyung. Room number’s right here.”
“Got it. Text me when you get home. No speeding though, okay?”
“Goodnight hyung,” Seokjin waved them off. “Goodnight, hyungsu.”

“Stop calling me that.”
The drive home was another fifteen minutes, minutes that seemed to stretch into eternity. Seokjin
drove a little faster than he should, stepping on the gas pedal with a pressing urgency. He couldn’t
wait to go home.
His car slowed to a crawl as he entered their neighborhood, headlights flooding the narrow streets
as he searched for an open parking spot. To his utter disbelief he happened upon an empty space
directly across from their building, Seokjin making a sharp U-turn and backing the SUV into it.
He killed the ignition with haste, car door slamming behind him as Seokjin beelined for the
entrance of the complex, legs bounding up the stairs two steps at a time, his lungs absolutely
winded by the time he arrived on their floor. Took a moment to catch his breath before entering the
passcode to the unit, door creaking open to a darkened apartment. He didn’t bother with the lights,
kicking off his shoes by the doorway and navigating through the space with practiced ease.
The bedroom was dimly illuminated by a singular lamp, perched on the nightstand beside the
sleeping figure, his shoulders rising and falling like a steady sea. He tiptoed towards the dresser,
setting his keys down as quietly as he could before maneuvering to the occupied side of the bed.
Careful and slow he squatted down to eye level, a soft exhale leaving his parted lips. All day he’d
waited to see this; long lashes on rosy cheeks, pouted lip and furrowed brow. He leaned forward to
close the distance, pressing a kiss to his forehead, relishing in the warmth of his skin. Lingered
there, breathing in the soft scent of laundry and lavender. Within seconds there sounded a small
groan, the figure stirring from his sleep until he blinked awake to Seokjin.
“Jin-ah,” Taehyung murmured incoherently, still halfway in dreamland.
“Hi,” he hummed in return, laying another kiss on the apple of his cheek. Taehyung lunged
forward, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him impossibly close, his face nuzzled into the
fabric of his sweater.
“You’re back.”
“Mhm. Sorry to wake you.”

“Not a dream?” Words warbled, lips brushing against Seokjin’s skin.
“No my love,” he whispered, fingers carding through Taehyung’s hair. “I’m right here.”
On most days they woke up slow and easy; Taehyung’s alarm flowing in as a soft melody,
Seokjin’s military grade sirens deployed as back-up. Seokjin would always hear Taehyung’s alarm
first, taking upon the task of disabling it to wake up Taehyung himself. This morning was different
than most. Taehyung had taken off of work, which meant that the first sound cutting through the
quiet was Seokjin’s doomsday sirens.
He awoke with a frenzied gasp, arm flinging to the side as the alarm rattled about the room.
Mumbled a slew of curses as he silenced his phone, willing his heart rate to settle to normal.
“God.”
And then a wounded groan sounded from behind him.
Whipping around to his other side, he spotted Taehyung burrowed deep beneath the covers, hands
shielding his face, brows pinched in pain. He’d accidentally smacked Taehyung square in the face.
“Oh my god,” he scooted over, cupping Taehyung’s cheeks between his hands. “Oh god, I’m so
sorry.”
“Are you though?” Taehyung whined, still hiding behind his hands in dramatic anguish.
“I am, I swear,” Seokjin stifled back a laugh. “I’m sorry, baby. Sorry sorry sorry–”
“Of all days today, really? What if you broke my nose? What’re you gonna do about it?”
“Well did I? Let me see,” Seokjin played along, prying Taehyung’s fingers from his face to
investigate. They narrowed their eyes at one another, Taehyung making his best attempt at feigned
menace.
“Oh no.”
“What is it?”
“Your nose.”
“What about it?”
“It’s just as we feared.”
“No it’s not, shut up.”
“What do we do. Can we fix this in time?”
“Kim Seokjin, what did you do to my beautiful face.”
Seokjin blew past the question, pressing forward to whisper, solemn and true.
“Kim Taehyung. I made you a promise and I’m keeping my word. I’m still gonna marry you.”
“Who says I want to marry you? Marriage is over. Canceled. I’m calling my lawyer.”
“Oh yeah? You don’t have a lawyer.”
“Kim Namjoon.”
“He’s not even done with law school yet so he’s not legit. Try again.”
“I’m gonna get Jungkookie over here and beat your ass.”
To which Seokjin leaned in even closer, lowering his voice to a drawl. “I could take him on any
day, are you kidding me?”
“Then I’ll have Jimin come over and lecture your ear off.”
“Getting weaker and weaker here. Seems like you’re running out of options.”
“Ugh, you’re annoying,” Taehyung sighed in defeat, rolling onto his side, back facing away from
Seokjin. “Filing for divorce.”
“You think it’s that easy?”
One smooth swoop of the arm and he’d grabbed hold of Taehyung’s waist, drawing him close, his
back flush against his chest. Just as easily he flipped him onto his back, Taehyung releasing a flurry
of giggles before Seokjin silenced him with a kiss.
All traces of their squabble were quickly forgotten. It was a cloudy winter day, pale light filtering
through their linen curtains, the room overcast but in a cozy sort of way. Thick blankets pooled at
their feet, traces of warmth lingering from their body heat. Every morning was more or less the
same, wrapped up in one another, simmering slow. But neither of them ever tired of it, Seokjin’s
fingers set strong on Taehyung’s jaw, Taehyung’s palm resting upon the rise of Seokjin’s chest.
“Good morning,” he murmured against Taehyung’s lips, belated but appreciated nonetheless.
Eager and starved, he urged Seokjin’s lips to part a little wider, teasing him with a playful slip of
the tongue and needy whimpers. Seokjin answered in equal fervor, shifting his body so that he
hovered over Taehyung’s half-naked frame, fingers weaving into Taehyung’s unruly hair, yanking
it back to expose the curve of his neck, his pretty Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.
He began leaving a trail of kisses along Taehyung’s jaw, down the length of his neck, eventually
settling right above his collarbone. Taehyung’s own hands snaked around to Seokjin’s back, large
palms running up and down the width of his bare shoulders. “Make sure you can hide it,”
Taehyung warned in his drowsy arousal.
“Why would I want to hide it?” Seokjin bit into his skin, ready to bruise it.
“We’re seeing my parents today, dummy.”
Very quickly Seokjin pulled away to collect himself. “Fair enough.”
With a soft grunt he repositioned himself so that the two were nose to nose, Taehyung’s soft breath
warm against his cheek. Over the years Seokjin had developed a bit of a routine, starting from
Taehyung’s forehead, brushing his bangs out of the way to kiss him there. He’d move down to find
the mole perched just beneath his eye, Taehyung’s lashes tickling his lips as he pressed against it.
A silly peck on the tip of his nose, never to be missed, always garnering a chuckle in return. And
last but not least he’d take a painstaking pause, lips ghosting Taehyung’s but not quite touching. As
impatient as Taehyung was, he let Seokjin take his time. Let him revel in the moment a little more,
lacing their fingers together and reaching their arms above their heads.
The kiss was always worth the wait. Taehyung was soft, plush soft. Lips wet and cherry bitten,
hands warm and winter chapped. “What time is it?” Seokjin surfaced for a moment, breathless.
“You might be a little late,” Taehyung mumbled, albeit not letting go.
“Really late,” Seokjin confirmed as he glanced at his phone. He tossed the device to the side with a
groan, laying down so that his cheek was plastered against Taehyung’s chest. “I should’ve been out
of the door by now.”
“Why aren’t you?” Taehyung smirked. “What’s stopping you?”
“You tell me.”
They laid there for a while, Seokjin’s head rising and falling with Taehyung’s steady breathing,
Taehyung’s fingers lazily carding through Seokjin’s hair, feather light. Several times Seokjin made
an admirable effort to pull away, only to melt into Taehyung like putty once more.
“Ugh,” he groaned again, face buried into Taehyung’s sternum, Taehyung running languid strokes
up and down his spine.
“Go baby,” he whispered into his hair. “You’re gonna miss the meeting.”
Seokjin snapped up, a look of mock offense etched across his face. “You’re really telling me to
go?”
“Go and come back to me.”
His answer seemed to satisfy Seokjin, who finally managed to peel himself away, stumble out of
bed. “Okay,” he mumbled obediently.
In Seokjin’s absence Taehyung settled back into a sleepy state, the sounds of Seokjin getting ready
for the day very faint, dreamlike. He could hear him tiptoeing about their room, flicking through
the hangers in their closet. The squeak of their bathroom faucet, on and off. Gentle pats as Seokjin
rushed through his skincare routine. Eventually the room descended into total silence as Seokjin
slipped out of it, Taehyung under the assumption that he’d already left the apartment. Just minutes
later he was proven otherwise, the unmistakable scent of breakfast wafting into the room.
“Jin-ah. Why are you cooking?” Taehyung yelled.
“I got this!”
“Pabo, you’re already–”
“I SAID I GOT THIS!”
He leaned back against his pillow with a defeated chuckle. Stubborn as ever.
Sometime later – Taehyung wasn’t sure how much time had passed – he heard footsteps
approaching, followed by a light cloud of pine. Opened his eyes to find Seokjin kneeling before
him, dressed very handsomely in a pressed button down and long wool coat, hair styled back to
reveal a nice swatch of forehead. He was holding an object in his hand, Taehyung rubbing at his
eyes to get a better look at it. A small velvet box was nestled in his palm, Seokjin wearing a rather
serious expression as he studied the contents within it.
Taehyung hadn’t had the chance to tell him yet. Seokjin beat him to it.
“This…” Seokjin trailed off, turning the little box between his fingers, the cufflinks within
catching and refracting morning light. “How did…” There was an uncertainty to his voice, the kind
that made Taehyung’s heart sore.
“I was going to tell you,” Taehyung spoke softly, eyes searching Seokjin’s. “Didn’t get the chance.
Picked them up last night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
Silence as Seokjin stared into his hands, at a loss for words.
“You don’t have to wear them,” Taehyung continued. “Figured it’s nice for you to know that
they’re there.”
With a squeak of the hinge he clasped the lid shut, resting the box on the nightstand once more.
Found Taehyung’s hands and enveloped them in his own, bringing his hands to his lips, kissing his
knuckles. “Did I mention that I love you today?”
“Not yet,” Taehyung smiled. “Can you tell me again?”
About half an hour after Seokjin left, Taehyung woke up.
His alarm lulled him out of his slumber in harp strings and birdsong. He switched off the alarm,
stretching like a cat in the late morning sun. Delaying the endeavor of getting out of bed, he curled
into the rumpled sheets, sheets that smelled like the two of them. Scrolled through the slew of
notifications he received overnight, answered a couple emails, checked on the weather. Cloudy,
was all the forecast said. Temperature dipping into single digits.
His newest notification was a text from Seokjin, a photo attachment per usual. Opened the message
to see Seokjin’s blurry selfie, taken somewhere in the middle of his commute.
Seokjin: I need to poop
Taehyung: Aww. Fighting <3
He saved the image to his gallery before rolling onto his side, propping himself up by the elbow to
scrutinize the little black box on the nightstand. A surge of emotion welled up within him, a feeling
that Taehyung couldn’t quite explain. A deep ache, a reopened wound. Seokjin discovered it before
Taehyung got the chance to explain. What are we supposed to do with it? He stewed in his
thoughts. Something about it felt foreign, sticking out like a sore thumb.
After taking care of his business in the bathroom, he padded out of the bedroom towards their cozy
kitchen, relishing in the warmth of the floorboards against his toes. He’d taken a full day off of
work; tomorrow was a momentous occasion, and he didn’t care for the extra fuss. Seokjin was
taking a half day instead. An important client was in town, and they needed Seokjin to win them
over with his charm.
The only item on Taehyung’s agenda was to stop by the florist on the opposite side of town. He
didn’t mind the trek; the neighborhood was quaint, and the noona manning the shop was just as
lovely.
A heaping dish of omurice was waiting for him at their breakfast nook, Taehyung stepping closer
to see a very sloppy smiley face drizzled over the egg in ketchup. He let out a hearty cackle,
snapping a picture of Seokjin’s creation and sending it to him as confirmation. Brewed himself a
cup of hot tea and warmed up the dish in the microwave before digging in.
Their breakfast nook boasted a pleasant view of the street below. Narrow alleyways and rooftop
gardens. It didn’t take long for him to spot their SUV parked just across the street, Taehyung
pumping his fist in triumph and sending Seokjin a congratulatory message.
Taehyung: Good job honey
Taehyung: We’re never driving the car again

Seokjin: 1000% agree
He bundled himself burrito style to fend off the cold, his slender frame drowning in a goose feather
down coat, red scarf wrapped around his face to shield him from the icy winds. Patted his pockets
to ensure he had everything he needed before slipping out of the apartment, florist bound.
The bus stop wasn’t very far, just three blocks down. He arrived a couple minutes before the next
bus’ arrival, Taehyung crouching beside the bus shelter and shuffling his feet. The cafe staff across
the street was leaning against the brick wall, taking her much needed smoke break. She noticed
Taehyung jiggling his knees and offered him a friendly wave.
“Almost done?” He yelled.
“Two more hours,” she answered.
After shivering on the sidewalk for five torturous minutes the bus finally arrived at the curb,
Taehyung hastily boarding it and walking to the very back row. Dug through his pockets for his
headphones and wedged them snugly in his ears. He scrolled through his music until he found his
“Chet Baker Sings” playlist. Seconds later a voice like honey flooded over him; paired with the
glittering Christmas displays, it made this time of year all the more magical.
There were twenty or so stops between home and his destination, Taehyung’s forehead pressed
against the window, watching the passengers coming and going. Not long into his ride a young
family boarded the vehicle; a beautiful couple led by a tiny girl drowning in an oversized pink
coat. He could see them approaching out of the corner of his eye. Moments later felt a thump at his
side as the child flung herself into the seat directly beside him, Taehyung turning in her direction,
the little girl staring back, doe-eyed and curious.
“Annyeong!” He lowered his voice to a hush, offering a friendly wave and earning a shy smile in
return.
“Say hi, Minji-yah,” the mother prompted, giving her daughter a gentle nudge.
To everyone’s surprise, the girl let out a shriek instead, lunging for Taehyung’s arm and burying
her face in the crook of his elbow.
“KIM MINJI!” The woman pried the child away, half scolding, half laughing. “I’m so sorry about
that. Leave this oppa alone. Look, he’s got a ring on already. You’re too late.”
“I’m getting married tomorrow, actually,” Taehyung beamed. Any chance he got to brag about his
wedding, he’d take it.
“Oh really? Congratulations! Are you nervous? Excited? Ready for the big day?”
“I wanted to marry this boy the moment I met him.” Nothing better than oversharing with strangers.
“Gosh, he must be handsome.”
“He really–”
“Nayoung-ah,” the husband on her other side piped up, tugging on the sleeve of his wife’s coat.
“Our stop, honey.”
“Oh! Okay, that was quick. Minji-yah, say bye bye to oppa.” The kid flashed a goofy smile before
getting whisked away by her parents. “Congratulations again!” Nayoung cried over her shoulder.
He watched their little family descend upon the sidewalk, cold December wind whipping at their
hair, their faces. Watched as the mother craned her neck to read the street signs, as the father
scooped the giddy toddler into his arms. Taehyung had always imagined the same for himself.
Always pictured a child of his own, balanced on Seokjin’s sturdy shoulders. Any talk of children
was a long ways off; with their current income they simply couldn’t afford it. But someday,
Taehyung vowed as he dialed up the volume of his music once more. Someday that could be them
too.
Upon receiving their invitations, many of their guests had questioned their choice of a winter
wedding; in the thick of winter and in the shadows of Christmas. “What kind of flowers bloom in
the winter?” Jia asked.
Turns out there were quite a few.

A heavy perfume of flowers greeted him as he pushed past the door, the owner reciting her
customary greeting before realizing it was Taehyung who had arrived. “Oh hello there!” She
exclaimed, stepping out from the counter and lowering into a bow.
“Sorry I’m a little late.”
“Not at all,” she shook her head. “I don’t have anything else going on anyway.”
She led him towards the back of the store to a cozy workspace littered with flower stems and
colored papers, stray petals blanketing the cement flooring. From the fridge behind her she
retrieved two large bouquets, placing them side by side on the table before him.
“So this is the original arrangement we agreed on,” she pointed to the bouquet on the right, cream
and champagne ranunculuses, dainty wax-flowers, cotton-like sea lavenders. “And this is the one I
made last night from the new shipment I was telling you guys about.” A nearly identical bouquet
on the left, albeit with a shock of violet ranunculuses scattered in the mix.
“Oh wow,” he gasped, leaning closer to get a better look. “Both are incredible, really. Better than I
could’ve imagined.”
“Your fiancé mentioned purple is your favorite color. Told me to keep an eye out for anything of
that sort.”
Taehyung barked out a laugh, then quickly composed himself upon seeing the owner’s puzzled
expression. For many years Taehyung was stubbornly attached to the color, thanks to the silly
incident with the popped button and the purple thread. Seokjin remained resolutely oblivious that it
had anything to do with him.
“Sorry, it’s just…it’s funny. He’s cute. Very thoughtful.”
“He’s smitten, that’s for sure. Speaks very highly of you.”
“Is there a price difference between the two?”

“Nope. We’ll keep it the same.”
“Then let’s go with the purple one. Might as well.”
He lingered around to chat about unrelated matters; of the weather, the upcoming election, the new
restaurant that just opened on the corner. Towards the end of their conversation, just before he
departed, she reached back into the fridge for one last item; a single white rose, a folded note tied
to the stem.
“For me?” He raised a brow as she handed the rose to him.
“Someone called in this morning,” she winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”
He waited until he stepped out of the shop to fumble at the note card, jaw going slack as he read
the message scrawled upon it:
Couldn’t help but notice you. ;)
He tilted his head back, exhaled deep, in and out. Couldn’t decide if he was mortified or moved.
“Kim Seokjin,” he muttered, lifting the flower to his nose and drinking in the scent. Winter white
petals on flushed rosy cheeks. “Ah, how embarrassing.”
Taehyung: [picture attached] I think I have a secret admirer :)
Seokjin: Excuse me????
Seokjin: They’ll have to go through me first
He rummaged through their cupboards for a suitable glass, filling it halfway with water before
carefully slipping the rose into it. With the note card clutched in the palm of his hand he scurried
off to their bedroom closet, delved past a mountain of shoes until he spotted it; his special keepsake
box, tucked away in the corner.
The box overflowed with memorabilia from their time together, the bulk of it accrued over their
last three years as a proper couple, but a number of items dating back as far as high school. A bottle
cap from the first coffee they’d ever shared – was it their first year? Second? He’d lost track.
Ticket stubs from flights and movies and museums. Polaroids and photo-strips, pressed flowers and
weathered shells. More than anything, love letters; hundreds of them in Seokjin’s messy
handwriting, some as brief as “I love you,” others as lengthy as several typed-out pages. Taehyung
had known Seokjin very intimately as a friend (and as whatever they were in between), but Seokjin
as a lover was a change Taehyung had never anticipated. Seokjin loved very loud. Breakfast in bed,
sticky notes on the mirror, flowers just because. Sending cheesy ballads in the middle of the
workday, lending sweaters and never asking for them back. Holding hands in crowded places,
whispers and kisses no matter how many people stared. Seokjin loved without abandon. Taehyung
could never get enough.
He changed into something nicer for the rest of the day, an expensive sweater and fitted slacks.
Checked himself out in the mirror before throwing on his wool coat. On his way to the door he
passed by the kitchen counter once more, Taehyung flushing with embarrassment at the sight of
the rose. How long had Seokjin known? Did he know right away, or did it take him a while? Was it
Jimin? Did Jimin rat him out? Taehyung made a mental note to hound him about it later.
The Park-Jeon complex was a brisk fifteen minute walk away. The chill from earlier that morning
hadn’t relented; if anything it felt colder, Taehyung’s teeth chattering as he burrowed deeper into
his scarf. The staff from the cafe must’ve finished her shift already, an unfamiliar barista now
working in her place. By the time Taehyung approached the foot of their building he’d worked up
quite a sweat, unraveling the scarf from around his neck as he ascended the steps two at a time.
Upon reaching their floor he slowed down considerably, bracing himself before knocking firmly
on their door. “It’s me,” Taehyung announced. Several beats of silence, and then a frantic voice
answered back, “WAIT! Give us a second.”
“I can leave!”
“No it’s okay! Wait–”
Taehyung did as he was told, waited patiently by the doorway, admiring the Christmas decorations
on their neighbor’s door. Rocked back and forth on his heels as a fair bit of commotion sounded
from the other side, a thump and a crash, Jungkook cursing and Jimin laughing. Minutes later the
door swung open to reveal their sad attempt at smoothing over their appearances, faces still
flushed, hair still askew. For a moment Taehyung almost felt bad for intruding, but remembered
that this happened far too often, especially with Jimin’s recent unemployment.
“Did I interrupt anything?” He smirked, stepping inside.

“No–”
“Yes.”
Jimin elbowed a sulking Jungkook in the chest.
As if it were his own home, Taehyung toed off his shoes, tossed his coat and scarf off to the side.
He did a quick survey of the apartment, taking in its usual mess with an affirming nod. “Was it
there?” Taehyung pointed towards the couch. “The crime scene?”
Jimin shook his head, cheeks crimson.
“Nah,” Jungkook answered shamelessly. “Kitchen counter.”
“Noted.”
Making certain to avoid the kitchen at all costs, Taehyung ambled over to the living room,
lowering himself in the corner of the couch, the cushions covered in cat hair, the cat itself nowhere
to be found. “Where’s Chijeu?”
“Oh, Chijeu,” Jimin mumbled, scurrying over to their bedroom door to let out the disgruntled
calico. She gave herself a good shake before spotting Taehyung, meowing loudly and hopping onto
the back of the couch, rubbing her head against his shoulder. “Here,” he patted his lap, the cat
obliging and jumping onto his legs, kneading his thighs and purring like a motor.
When their pet fish Baptong passed about a year ago, Jimin and Jungkook were understandably
devastated. Baptong had been with them since the very beginning. They laid him to rest in an
empty matchbox, buried him beside a small stream in their local park. Baptong had never been to
said park, but they figured it’d be a good resting place for him. Not long after, the mildly inebriated
pair were browsing a cat cafe when they met a calico kitten, who seemed to have an instant
connection with Jimin. “Her name is Chijeu,” the staff advised. “Cheese.”
“Her name is literally cheese,” Jimin wept as he held her. In his drunken state he considered it
serendipity, that both Baptong (rice cooker) and Chijeu (cheese) fell within the random-items-you-
find-in-your-kitchen theme. They brought Chijeu home that very day.
Chijeu loved Taehyung, and Taehyung loved Chijeu. Chijeu still made Seokjin a little nervous.
“Claws. It’s her claws,” Seokjin would sputter every time she neared him. Nevertheless they were
making progress, slowly but surely.
The couch sank as Jimin and Jungkook joined Taehyung, Jungkook’s back pressed to the other
armrest, Jimin leaning his back against Jungkook’s chest, both of their legs stretched out, soles of
their feet touching Taehyung’s side. He was used to their PDA now. Hardly called it third-
wheeling.
“Did you eat yet?”
Taehyung nodded. “Jin made me breakfast. How ‘bout you guys?”
“Not yet. What’d he make you?”
“Omurice.”
“Can we see?”
Both of them knew that Taehyung habitually took pictures of all the dishes Seokjin whipped up,
regardless of how they turned out. Seokjin never followed recipes, just threw shit together and
crossed his fingers for good luck. Sometimes it turned out fantastic, other times a disaster.
Jungkook found it incredibly entertaining. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he showed them
the picture of the omurice, sloppy ketchup smile and all.
“Dangshin,” Jungkook cackled. “Look here. He really tried with the smiley face.”
“A for effort.” He patted Jungkook’s thigh. “Can you make me that for lunch?”
“I will, and I’ll do it better.”
“Where is Seokjin by the way?”

“His hot shot clients are in town today. He’s wooing them at the moment. We’re meeting at my
parents’ later.”
“For the family lunch?”
“Mhm.”
“Who’s going?”
“That you guys know? Hm. My cousin Jiyeong. I think she’s bringing her partner with her.”
“Really?” Jimin gasped, highly interested. “Have you met her before?”
“No, never. Just know that her name is Saebyeok.”
“Oh, what a pretty name.”
“Hey, we want to meet Saebyeok too,” Jungkook huffed. “Why can’t we go? Are we not family
enough for you?”
“Yah, we have our own thing at night. It’ll be more fun. Lunch is dry, no alcohol.”
“Fine.”
“And you guys can’t get too drunk tonight. Don’t want you to be hungover tomorrow.”
“Will Jiyeong and Saebyeok be at the wedding?” Jimin asked, voice tinged with hope.
“Of course,” Taehyung smiled. “You guys can meet them there.”
A pleasant silence fell over the three of them, nothing but the sounds of distant traffic from the
streets below.
“How are you feeling, Taehyung-ssi?” Jimin nudged Taehyung’s thigh with his big toe.
“People have been asking me that all week. I don’t know. I’m getting antsy. I want to marry him
now.”
“Are you gonna cry?” Jungkook smirked.
“Is that even a question? I start tearing up just thinking about it. Feel like I’ve waited my whole life
for this.”
“Do you think Jin will cry?”
Taehyung paused to think, genuinely stumped. Seokjin could be unpredictable when it came to
emotions. Sometimes he’d break into laughter at the most inappropriate moments. Other times
Taehyung would catch him weeping over something inconsequential. It was difficult to say.
“Our Seokjinnie doesn’t cry very much these days,” Jimin said.
“50,000 won that he does.”
“I can’t afford that. I’m a broke man.”
“You know I’ll just spend all that money right back on you,” Jungkook nuzzled his nose against
Jimin’s ear.
It’d been nearly a month since Park Jimin was officially funemployed. As quickly as he rose within
the ranks at his company, so too did the pressure from toxic management, the exhausting circus of
office politics. The greater the title, the heavier the burden. Towards the end of a very busy quarter
an intern asked him a simple question at the coffee station: “How was your day?” Like a twig Jimin
snapped, finally reaching his breaking point. Cue the waterworks and a very frightened intern.
Later that night Jimin recounted said event to a very concerned Jungkook, whose response came
quick and firm: “Please quit.” Jimin plunged further into hysterics, the second mental breakdown
of the day. “But how will we pay rent?” Jungkook proceeded to draw up a comprehensive financial
plan. With his current salary plus his and Jimin’s combined savings, Jimin could go comfortably
unemployed for at least half a year. “Please do it, I’m begging you.” Jimin put in his two weeks the
very next day.
For the first time in his life, Jimin did nothing. He spent the first couple weeks weighed down by a
strange guilt. “I’m not being a productive member of society,” he fretted. Jungkook rebutted this
fiercely. “You’ve given enough to society. Time to give back to yourself.” Jimin took this advice to
heart, started spoiling himself silly. Watched movies until sunrise. Rolled out of bed as late as two
in the afternoon, ate breakfast by three. Started a bit of a baking spree, both to his and Jungkook’s
delight.
Whenever Jungkook went into the office, Jimin would spend his day wandering aimlessly around
Seoul, playing tourist in his own city. Swung by his friends’ offices to grab long lunches. If
Jungkook was working from home, he’d channel all his efforts into being a bad influence; namely
prancing around the apartment in very cute short shorts. That in itself was enough for Jungkook to
fly off his handle and narrowly miss a couple meetings.
“By the way,” Jimin piped up, absentmindedly toying with Jungkook’s fingers. “How’d last night
go?”
Right. Last night. “Scared out of my mind,” Taehyung confessed. “I couldn’t stop shaking.”
“Did anything happen?”
“Her hair. Her hair was grey.”
“Oh.”
“She barely said a word,” Taehyung continued. “It was just me…just me venting and crying.” He
chuckled in spite of himself. “God, I was really hoping I wouldn’t cry. Felt like such a loser.”
He felt a light kick in his side, Taehyung looking up to find Jimin frowning at him. “That was so
brave of you, Tae. You didn’t have to do that. I don’t think I could’ve ever done it.”
In Taehyung’s eyes, Jimin was fearless. Whatever life handed to him, sorrow and strife, he’d
always emerge victorious on the other side. Perhaps his only kryptonite was the very person whose
arms were wrapped around him; Jeon Jungkook.
Four years and counting, they’d been together. Yet as far as their parents were concerned, the two
were simply roommates, best friends, nothing more. In recent months Jimin’s parents began to nag
him about settling down and starting a family. Numerous times his mother had tried to set him up
on blind dates, Jimin always weaseling out of them with the excuse of work. With his recent
unemployment, however, his tried and true excuse fell short. Jimin confided in Taehyung once, late
at night and a couple drinks in: how much longer could he hide? Both his and Jungkook’s parents
were supportive of Taehyung and Seokjin. But when it came to their own children; would they
share the same grace?
Jimin was scared, and Taehyung understood.
“Do you guys remember years ago…sometime around Christmas…when Jin and I came over and
we crashed in your living room?”
“Of course,” Jungkook chuckled. “We could hear you two giggling when we went back to our
room. And the next morning we found you idiots sleeping on the floor. When we had a whole pull-
out couch.”
“We didn’t know it was a pull-out at the time.”
“True.”
“Anyway. I’ve always wanted to thank you guys for that,” Taehyung lowered his hand to grip onto
Jimin’s foot, rubbing small circles on his ankle bone. “For letting us stay.”
Jimin and Jungkook turned to each other to laugh. “Why now, all of a sudden?”
“I mean…that night…Seokjin was really scared. And I tried not to show it but I was scared too. We
had nowhere else to go. But you guys gave us a safe space. I don’t think you realize how much that
meant to us.”
“It’s what friends do.”
“But the thing is, it’s not just that one time. It’s every time after that. When Jin got kicked out of
his parents’ place and he slept on this couch for three months. Or whenever I have a shitty day at
work and I barge in to vent. You always let us in. Even if you’re in the middle of fucking on the
kitchen counter, you always let us in.”
“Alright you killed the moment–”
“I think you’re forgetting all the ways you’ve helped us, too,” Jimin cut in. “I can get really in my
head, and it feels very lonely there. But the fact that you’re just a phone call away…Seokjin too…
knowing that both of you would come running to us at the drop of a hat. Knowing we’re not doing
this life thing alone. How did we get so lucky?”
Jungkook nodded, chiming in softly: “You’re our safe space too.”
He leaned his head back, eyes scanning the room and all the memories it held. The hanging plants
and their overgrown vines reaching towards sunlight. The forgotten bikes stacked against the wall,
collecting dust. The mismatched furniture, each telling its own story. The little window they’d
climb through to look at the stars.
“How long will you stay here?” Taehyung murmured.
Jimin beamed at him, crescent moons. “We’ll be there for you no matter what.”
He couldn’t wait to see Seokjin.
From Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment he hailed a taxi to his family home. Seoul’s streets
ballooned with mid-day traffic, the car stopping and going, stopping and going. “These damned
lane merges,” the driver cursed under his breath, Taehyung assuring him that it was fine, no rush at
all. The congestion was just starting to clear when several texts came in from Seokjin, the first of
which being a blurry photo of several plastic bags dangling from his hand. Clearly he was in a mad
rush again.
Seokjin: Meeting went great they loved me so much
Seokjin: Just picked up catering
Seokjin: Where are you?
Taehyung grinned as he typed out his response.
Taehyung: About halfway there
Taehyung: Are you on the way?
Seokjin: Yes baby. I’m in a taxi
Taehyung: Oh me too :) <333
Seokjin: Race you.
Taehyung: -________-
He glanced up from his phone with a sudden urgency. “Ahjussi, can you go a little faster?”
The cab screeched to a stop at the curb, Taehyung hurriedly paying his fare before tumbling out of
the car and sprinting towards the apartment like a madman. Seokjin was nowhere in sight, the
complex quiet save for his own labored breathing. He paused at the bottom of the stairwell to
gather his strength before careening upwards, metal clanging noisily beneath his feet. He could
feel himself slowing down the higher he went, lungs winded and losing steam. The stairs always
got to him. Taehyung was halfway towards the top when he heard it, the unmistakable sound of
pounding footsteps coming from behind him. He looked down to see Seokjin ascending two steps
at a time, the heavy bags in his hands swinging wildly from side to side.
“NO!” Taehyung bellowed, desperately picking up speed. But the enemy was quickly advancing,
and before he knew it Seokjin was passing him with a cackle.
“OUT OF MY WAY.”
He watched in despair as Seokjin barreled past, rounding the corner and speeding towards his
parents’ unit.
It was an admirable effort to catch up on Taehyung’s part; nevertheless he arrived just a heartbeat
too late, Seokjin slamming his hand on the door in triumph. For a moment both of them were
breathless, chests heaving, Taehyung leaning his forehead on Seokjin’s shoulder for support.
“That was…very sexy and impressive of you,” he admitted. “Is the food okay? Did anything spill?”
“Should be fine. They sealed it pretty tight.”
“Here, let me help,” Taehyung offered, just as the door flew open to reveal Eonjin standing on the
other side, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Thought I heard something. Why are you guys breathing so hard?”
A delightful sort of chaos was brewing in the apartment, the air inside toasty warm and thick with
the aroma of home cooking. Every chair in their household had been pulled out and rallied together
in the living room, even Taehyung’s swiveling office chair, and a couple of folding chairs
borrowed from neighbors. For now the place was otherwise empty; the guests were due to arrive in
half hour’s time. But already there was music blaring, some sort of riotous EDM track, Eonjin
clearly in charge of it. Their parents didn’t seem to care, too busy running about in the kitchen with
Jeonggyu poised as their little assistant.
“You’re here?” Mrs. Kim called out, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of them. “Why are you all
out of breath? You rushed to get here?”
“Yes! We want to help,” Seokjin replied sweetly, squeezing his way into the kitchen to roll up his
sleeves. “What do you need. What can I do.”
“Nothing, my love. Go sit down and relax. Watch TV.”
“There’s gotta be something I can help with,” he surveyed his surroundings. “Dishes! I’ll do the
dishes.”
“Just relax, please,” she begged, trying to nudge him out of the way but to no avail.
“And I’ll clear out the rack,” Taehyung declared with equal fervor, sashaying up to Seokjin to
work in tandem.
“You boys are adding trouble,” Taehyung’s father laughed as he dropped another dirty dish in the
sink. “There’s hardly any room. Hi son,” he murmured, clapping Seokjin on the shoulder and
giving him a good squeeze.
“Hi—”
“APPA!” Taehyung let out a frantic cry, peeling his father’s hand away from Seokjin’s shoulder.
“Your hand, you’ve got gochujang all over it.”
Startled, his father lifted his own hand to eye level, aghast to discover that indeed, it was covered
in the pungent red sauce. A sizable patch of Seokjin’s shirt was now also stained with the same red.
“Oh no. I was making dakgangjeong, I totally forgot. Mianh, adeul.” Mr. Kim fumbled for a
napkin, tried his best to wipe at the sauce only to spread it around even more. Seokjin twisted his
neck to see the damage for himself. “Smells great.”
“Aigooo, look at this mess,” Mrs. Kim tutted. “Yeobo, go wash your hands. Seokjin-ah, the guests
are arriving soon. You’d better get this cleaned up.”
“I like it, adds a nice touch.”
“Don’t be dumb, you’re gonna smell like this all day,” Taehyung pushed him out of the kitchen.
“And I’m gonna be the one stuck next to you. I won’t stand for this.”
“Seokjin-ah, throw it in the wash. I’ll take care of it.”
“What will I wear though?”
“I probably have something in my room,” Taehyung insisted. “Come on, let’s go.”
They wiggled their way out of the cramped space, Mr. Kim washing his hands with a flustered
chuckle. “Sorry, adeul!” He called out again. They hurried past Eonjin, who was busying herself
with setting up the catered dishes.
“A mess, a whole mess.”
He led Seokjin by the hand, past the commotion and into the quiet hall, the music fading with
every step. The door of Taehyung’s room was already wide open. It was as they stepped through
the threshold that they both moved at once, the door slamming shut as Taehyung pressed Seokjin
against it, Seokjin’s deft fingers reaching down to lock it for good measure.
He gave no warning, no time to think, leaning forward to kiss Seokjin, hungry. Always hungry.
Seokjin kissed back just as urgently, breath knocked out of him by the sudden ambush. He loved it
when Taehyung got feisty like this.
They stood flush against the door, bodies melding into one another, thrumming in unison.
Taehyung did it smoothly, with practiced expertise. Undid Seokjin’s buttons one by one without
looking, exposing his chest, his abdomen until he slipped the shirt completely off of his shoulders,
discarding it to the side. Grazed his fingers along bare skin, sliding down the planes of his stomach
until his hands gripped around Seokjin’s waist. Something about it always turned Seokjin on.
“That’s fucked up,” he murmured against Taehyung’s lips, Taehyung giggling, very proud of what
he’d done.
His breath hitched in his throat as he felt Seokjin’s hands slip under his sweater, cold fingers
leaving goosebumps in their wake. A small moan as Seokjin pulled him impossibly closer, as he
left a trail of kisses from Taehyung’s jaw down to the crook of his neck. “Taehyung-ah,” he
whispered, his fingers carding through Taehyung’s hair with want. “What if we just…what if we
just did it here.”
“You know I won’t be able to keep it down.”
“The music’s pretty loud though.”
“My entire extended family’s going to be here any minute.”
Seokjin hummed in disdain. “Bummer.”

Nevertheless they showed no signs of stopping, Taehyung snaking his arms around his neck, legs
hitching around his waist, Seokjin gripping him by the thighs and lifting him up. Very slowly,
carefully Seokjin walked them towards Taehyung’s childhood bed, gently easing Taehyung onto
his back.
The two of them barely fit on the rickety mattress, their legs tangled and hanging off the ends of it.
In an attempt to get comfortable Seokjin hovered over Taehyung, one elbow propped on the sliver
of space next to Taehyung’s head, the other arm folded gently across Taehyung’s chest. For a
moment they shared a look, playful and coy, neither quite remembering what they came here for in
the first place. Taehyung didn’t care. He had another agenda of his own.
“Can you spoon me?”
Seokjin threw back a laugh, looping his arm around Taehyung’s waist, pulling him close without
hesitation. “Missed me that much?” He whispered, positioning himself behind Taehyung so that
the curves of their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.
“Tighter,” Taehyung whined.
“If I hug you any tighter I’m gonna squish your brains out.”
He didn’t care. It felt too good, the feeling of cotton and skin. Giddy with bliss, he wiggled his hips
against Seokjin’s, earning a sharp hiss in retaliation. “Don’t do that. You’re asking for trouble.”
“Sorry.”
Soon the room sank into quiet, their breathing slow and in sync.
“So your meeting went well?”
“Mm. The moment they saw my handsome face it was game over.”
“They never stood a chance, did they?”

“No one ever does.”
He shifted onto his other side so that they laid face to face, nose to nose. Pressed his forehead
against Seokjin’s, breaths mingling as he spoke. “We’re gonna be so busy today. You think you’ll
have enough energy?”
“I had two coffees already this morning so I’m fired up. Can you hear my heartbeat?”
“Let me see.”
He pressed his ear firm against Seokjin’s chest, smiled as he picked up the familiar sound, like a
little metronome ticking fast. This was precisely how he knew all those years ago, that fateful night
on the beaches of Jeju. Seokjin’s heart always gave him away. It was only recently when they
actually started dating that Taehyung divulged his little secret, Seokjin flushing tomato red from
embarrassment. “Don’t be,” Taehyung assured him. “I’m so glad I listened.”
“Is it the coffee, or is it me?” Taehyung teased, lifting his head up to meet Seokjin’s gaze.
“Good point. Can’t be sure.”
They kissed again.
“How ‘bout you. Think you can handle it?”
“As long as I’m with you, yes.”
Taehyung had a way of delivering such lines without so much as batting an eye, yet Seokjin always
seemed greatly affected by it. Very tenderly he reached forward, brushing stray strands behind
Taehyung’s ear, thumb grazing the soft shell before finding its way to Taehyung’s brow, tracing
the line of it down to the apples of his cheeks, the cupid bow of his lips. Taehyung pressed his lips
to his thumb before leaning in for more kisses, giggles peppered in between.
At some point in the middle of their make-out session the music in the next room died down,
replaced instead by a chorus of new voices. The guests were already arriving.
“What are we here for again?”
“Oh right. A shirt.”
A bit weak in the knees, they hobbled towards the closet as one unit, Taehyung still wrapped up in
an airtight back-hug. The space was smaller than either of them remembered it, the items within all
ancient relics; striped polos that once swallowed Taehyung’s frame now comparable to doll
clothes. He sifted through the sad selection, swiping past one contender after another. None of the
pieces would fit Seokjin, and even if they did, they wouldn’t do him justice. “Hey, I can wear this,”
Seokjin commented, tugging at the fabric of an argyle print sweater. “It’s not worthy of you,”
Taehyung shook his head. What was I thinking.
He’d nearly reached the end of the closet when Seokjin surged forward, hand reaching for a
particular hanger before Taehyung could register what was happening. His jaw went slack as he
realized what had so zealously grabbed Seokjin's attention. Dangling between his fingers was a
dusty navy blue blazer, top button hanging from a purple thread.
“No fucking way.”
“Oh god.”
“This is THE blazer?” Seokjin gawked, holding it up in triumph.
“Mhm. That’s the one.”
“Taehyung-ah. Look how hard I tried for you,” he flicked at the loose button. “Did you know I
liked you back then?”
“No, not at all. I couldn’t have imagined.”
“I liked you soooo much,” Seokjin admitted, chin hooked on Taehyung’s shoulder as he
reminisced. “But I couldn’t even admit it to myself. I was on Youtube all night watching video
tutorials and I still couldn’t get it right.”
“You know that’s why I was obsessed with purple for the longest time, right?”
“Really?” Seokjin grinned, very pleased with this revelation. “I didn’t realize. Because of me?”
“Because of you, yes.”
“My god, you were whipped.”
“Still am.”
Leaning forward once more Seokjin retrieved another blazer from the rack, this one with all of its
buttons still perfectly intact. “Can we try these on right now? Please?”
A pause, as Taehyung mulled over the proposition. “Okay,” he finally relented. “But you better be
careful. Don’t mess with that button.”
“Don’t worry. I can just sew it back on for you.”
“It’s not the same.”
It took a sizable amount of effort to squeeze their forearms into the sleeves, both of them giving up
upon realizing they could only get their arms no more than halfway through. Seokjin was beside
himself, doubled over wheezing, Taehyung overtaken by silent laughter, feeding off of his hysteria.
“Baby, you’re going to tear it apart.”
“Can we take a picture like this? Please?”

They sidled up in front of the floor length mirror, falling into another fit of giggles upon seeing
their ridiculous reflections. Finally managed to collect themselves enough to take a couple photos,
Seokjin quickly shaking off the blazer after and slipping it back onto its hanger. “I can’t believe we
were so tiny.”
More guests were arriving by the minute, voices swelling and urging them to find something, fast.
He navigated towards his old dresser, not feeling very hopeful but searching through every drawer
nonetheless. Seokjin took the opportunity to meander towards the desk, eyes skimming over the
framed photographs propped on the table’s surface. Jimin and Taehyung, little birds hand in hand
at the amusement park. To the right of that, a blurry picture taken on a shitty flip phone, Taehyung
and Seokjin somewhere by the river, Taehyung beaming into the camera, Seokjin beaming at him.
Seokjin had already seen these photos countless times, had already committed these images to
memory. Still he made a point of paying them a visit every time.
Seokjin perked his head at the sound of a defeated sigh, Taehyung resurfacing from his dresser
empty-handed. “Just a bunch of rolled up T-shirts,” he frowned. “Don’t think I have anything
good.”
To which Seokjin replied matter-of-factly, “You think Appa has something for me?”
When they first started dating – really properly dating, title and everything – Seokjin stuck
religiously to Eomeonim and Abeoji, despite Taehyung’s reassurance that he could call them
Eomma and Appa. “They’d really like it, actually.” It took about a year and it happened without
warning, Seokjin calling them Eomma and Appa for the first time. Taehyung never asked what
prompted the change. Just knew that his parents never tired of hearing it, like music to their ears.
Suddenly he found himself overwhelmed with emotion, Taehyung stepping forward to wind his
arms around Seokjin’s back, holding him close. Seokjin didn’t question it, hugged him back just as
fervently. Burrowed his nose in Taehyung’s hair as they swayed back and forth.
“What’re you thinking, my love?” Seokjin whispered.
Before Taehyung could anwer, there sounded a loud knock on his door.
“Guys, people are asking for you.”
They hurried to the door, twisting the lock open to find Jeonggyu, who’d been tasked as the
messenger, waiting on the other side. He gave Seokjin’s naked upper half a curious once over.
“You still don’t have a shirt.”
Seokjin shook his head. “Couldn’t find—”
“Just borrow mine, hyung. Duh.”
And with that their little messenger turned on his heel, returning from whence he came, leaving the
pair to stand awkwardly by the doorway. But of course – Jeonggyu and Seokjin were the same
size, same style. The thought hadn’t occurred to either of them.
From the end of the hall they could hear the chatter of family, warm greetings, booming laughter.
“You ready baby?”
“Yes. Should I greet everyone like this?” Seokjin waved at his topless form.
“Absolutely.”
They slipped into Jeonggyu’s room to swipe a sweater from his closet. Very plain, very modest, as
if it belonged to Seokjin himself. They reemerged to a living room bustling with relatives, every
single one of them from Taehyung’s extended family. Aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents
that traveled from all corners of Korea to celebrate their big weekend. Seokjin’s side of the family
was noticeably absent, a sight he was now accustomed to. Fanfare erupted upon their entrance,
each of them swept away in a current of congratulations and well tidings. Amidst the excitement
Taehyung stole a glance at his fiance, locked in a chokehold by his gomo, Seokjin visibly flustered
but not exactly hating it, either.
The commotion only died down once the food was served, Seokjin and Taehyung sneaking in bites
between greeting the stragglers trickling in. Another auntie was painstakingly unwrapping some of
her mujigae tteok for them to try when the front entrance eased open, Jiyeong’s petite frame barely
visible over the sea of heads, her new girlfriend trailing close behind, tall and quiet, shy and unsure.
The two thanked the kind auntie for her help before sharing a glance, a wordless agreement to pull
Jiyeong and Saebyeok to the side.
They’d barely made it across the room when the door flew open once more, this time followed by a
familiar voice, high and shrill above the clamor. “Are we late?” The woman bellowed in thick
Busan satoori, arms weighed down with bags bearing various fruits and gifts.
Seokjin broke into a grin, then a brisk sprint towards the entryway to greet his little family from
Busan. Taehyung’s parents were quick to welcome the newest arrivals, receiving the bags from
auntie and uncle in gratitude. The ‘kids’ hovered close, waiting for their turn to say hello: Seokjung
and Jia arm in arm, Changmin beside them, hands in his pockets.
“Hyungsu!” Taehyung cried as he launched himself at Jia, her arms wide open and at the ready.
Wholly undignified, squeals and giggles as they rocked back and forth in a bone-crushing embrace.
It was strange, that at one point in time the prospect of Taehyung and Jia meeting was Seokjin’s
worst nightmare. But when the two of them finally did meet – under much better circumstances –
he could’ve never guessed that they’d get along so well. Jia’s sharp tongue melted honey sweet in
Taehyung’s presence, singing his neverending praises. Taehyung laid it on just as thick, their back
and forth accolades almost comical to witness. Seokjung certainly found it to be hilarious. Even
more so when Seokjin would grumble and groan, asking why Jia was so nice to Taehyung, but so
mean to him.
“It’s like I’m not even here,” Seokjin rolled his eyes as the two finally peeled away from one
another.
“Not everything’s about you,” Jia shot back, grabbing a hold of his shoulder and giving it a hardy
squeeze.
“Did you sleep well?” Seokjin asked, returning the gesture.
“Love the hotel. LOVE. Almost didn’t want to leave just now. You did good.”
He took time greeting the rest of his family. Complimented Changmin on his new haircut.
Gathered their coats, their scarves to stow away in the closet. Watched in delight as his aunt
showered Taehyung with hugs and kisses, patiently waiting for his turn, too.
Seokjin counted. In a room of thirty plus, there were one, two, three, four, five: five people from
his side. Five strong from his family. Somehow in his mind it was more than enough.
The evening prior, Taehyung met with Seokjin’s mother.
It’d been years since he stepped foot anywhere near their penthouse, yet he completed the journey
thanks to pure muscle memory. The path to her complex appeared much the same, perhaps the only
notable difference being the new playground installed, replacing a sad little fountain that once
stood in its place. That night it was too cold for anyone to be outside. He forged ahead alone, dread
sinking in as a familiar building materialized in the distance.
It surprised him that she agreed to this meeting so easily; if anything her willingness frightened
him more. His steps slowed to a trudge as he pushed past the entryway and into the lobby. Checked
in with the doorman before dragging himself to the elevators, knees trembling, palms clammy. He
came empty-handed, deliberately so; they were far past the point of formalities now.
Just one knock and the door swung open, Mrs. Kim stepping aside to allow Taehyung in, eyes
resolutely downcast, refusing to meet his gaze. By the time he slipped off his shoes and hung up
his coat she had already seated herself at the dining room table, a pot of tea in the center of it. She
held a small cup in her hands, the other cup placed in front of the vacant seat. Taehyung settled
into the chair and pushed the cup aside. If the woman noticed this gesture, she pretended she
hadn’t.
The apartment was very stark, ice cold. Shiny fixtures and fancy furniture, largely untouched. Mr.
Kim’s belongings were noticeably absent. As much as Mrs. Kim tried to fill the empty spaces he
left behind, the place still felt hollowed out, gutted. Not that it had ever been very inviting in the
first place; just that now it felt more like a mausoleum than a home.
Taehyung had heard snippets through the grapevine, said grapevine largely being his soon-to-be-
brother-in-law. Mr. and Mrs. Kim were technically still married on paper, yet no semblance of their
union remained in real life. He’d made his permanent residence in Hong Kong, with or sans
another lover, no one really knew. At the very least he sent over a monthly allowance and if
necessary, some curt discussions to sort out logistics. Murmurings bubbled within their ritzy inner
circle, and the excuse of “he’s busy with work” eventually fell flat. Slowly but surely the parties,
the accolades fizzled out to nothing.
One woman living in sprawling silence. Seokjung wondered why she’d want to stay there at all,
surrounded by abandoned rooms, the ghosts of her once picture-perfect family. Now and then,
every couple months, Seokjung would take the train up from Busan to check in on his mother,
driven by a mix of both guilt and obligation. The two hardly spoke during these sporadic visits.
Wordless dinners, tired exchanges.
He’d asked Seokjung to organize this meeting, fully prepared for a swift rejection. Now that he was
actually seated across from her, the weight of the moment hit him full force, Taehyung inwardly
trembling knowing what he was about to do.
In the corner of the living room there was a large Christmas tree. It stood proud and tall for no one
to see.
“I’m going to speak honestly without holding back,” Taehyung warned.
The woman didn’t say a word.
Underneath the table his fingers dug into stiff denim, knuckles white. Her silence enraged him, her
vacuous expression as she stared into her teacup, steam swirling and shrouding her like a curtain.
Never had he spoken so rudely to an elder, but in his mind every word was entirely justified.
“Elder” implied respect. Taehyung didn’t think she deserved it.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
“Years ago, the last time you spoke to my mother. The things that you said. Do you remember
them?”
Nothing.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but my mother never did,” he continued. “For years she kept it to
herself no matter how much I pestered. It wasn’t until recently that she finally told me. Any
guesses why it took her so long?”
A part of him cringed as he heard himself speak, his words cutting like knives, ruthless. Surely any
moment now she’d break into a rage, slap his mouth shut and kick him out the door. Yet the
woman across the table remained unmoving, stark still.
“She was afraid that your words would hurt me.”
He traced his thumb absentmindedly over his engagement ring. Felt his own trembling quell
because of it.
“I want you to know that your words have no effect on me. My mother raised me with love. I have
nothing to be ashamed of.”
Somewhere in the room a lone clock was ticking. Loud. It was so loud. Mrs. Kim blinked long and
slow.
“Seokjin and I are getting married.”
Finally, the slightest movement as she glanced up from the table.
“I’m not here to extend an invitation, and I doubt you’d want to come if I did. Just figured you
should know.”
She looked back down, face hidden from view.
“Shortly after you kicked your son out of his home, he and I were able to meet again. We dated for
two years before getting engaged. Do you know why it took us so long?” He swallowed thickly. “I
knew I loved him at fifteen. Do you know why we waited?”
“Mostly to make up for lost time,” he stared pointedly ahead. “And another part of him…he
doesn’t like to talk about it…there’s still a part of him waiting for you to come around.”
“When he heard about what happened between you and his father, it’s sad to say but it gave him a
strange hope. That his father isn’t so different from himself after all. That because of this, maybe
you – or him – would go back on your word, change your mind.”
“But nothing,” Taehyung gasped. “Not a peep from you, not a word from his father. Like he never
existed.”
Very carefully she reached for a nearby napkin, twisting it this way and that between her willowy
hands.
“I think Seokjin has finally reached this point of acceptance, that this is just how things will be. It
took years for him to get here, and it’ll take him many more years to heal. But I want you to know
that he’s got good people by his side. He’s doing really well, better than ever. He got a promotion
recently, all thanks to hard work. He’s been going to therapy. He’s got his Seokjung hyung, the best
big brother he could ask for. He’s got his friends too, thicker than blood. He’s got my family, my
Eomma and Appa, wrapped around his pinky. They love him as their own. Your son, Seokjin. He’s
very well loved.”
Taehyung could sense it, the emotion rising to the surface, trying desperately to press it back down.
Every time he spoke of Seokjin this feeling was inevitable. He thought of Seokjin’s eyes, the way
they crinkled at the corners when he laughed. More often than not these days, he was laughing.
The more he looked at her, the more he saw Seokjin. He’d never resembled his father very much,
but he could see it in the woman opposite him. The same nose, same eyes, as if he were carved in
her image.
“He’s so easy to love.” Voice cracking, tears falling, dripping from his chin. “Why don’t you love
him?”
Through the blur of his own tears he could see that she was crying too.
Shortly after, Taehyung excused himself to leave. He had nothing more to say, and evidently
neither did she. Didn’t want to cry in her presence either. Wanted to shed tears in peace.
Halfway through shrugging on his coat, he heard a quiet voice behind him.
“Wait.”
Taehyung paused to look over his shoulder, watched as she disappeared from the main room and
slipped into the hallway. Minutes later she reappeared, cheeks wet, eyes downcast. Between her
fingers she held a black velvet box.
Right then and there Taehyung pried the box open, blinking back surprise upon seeing a pair of
cufflinks, strikingly familiar. And then it came back to him, the memory of it – of him gifting it to
Seokjin many Christmases ago.
“Maybe he can wear these on your wedding day.”
A pleasant hush fell over the apartment once the guests departed. Tired and worn, happy and full.
The buzz from earlier was now replaced by the gentle clinking of dishes and low conversation, the
occasional chuckle interspersed in between. Changmin and his family stayed behind to help with
the cleaning, each member working diligently at their assigned task. Jia and Eonjin occupied
themselves with clearing the tables, albeit very slowly, Eonjin woefully recounting her boy
problems, Jia listening with undivided attention. Terrifying, how quickly time passed. Little Eonjin
was in university now, going on dates, ghosting boys, getting ghosted. He chuckled as he watched
Jia laying out her response, Eonjin nodding and hanging onto every word of advice.
Changmin and Seokjung stationed themselves at the kitchen sink, Changmin lathering and rinsing,
Seokjung drying and stowing away. He could hear snippets of their conversation, something about
Changmin’s flight attendant girlfriend stressing over making it to the wedding on time from the
airport. Seokjin’s uncle and Taehyung’s father took turns taking out the trash, as Seokjin’s aunt and
Taehyung’s mother prepared sliced fruit and hot tea for the remaining company.
In the middle of it all, Taehyung and Seokjin struggled to find their place to help.
“Why are you two still standing around?” Taehyung’s mother cried, giving the pair a gentle shove
out of the kitchen.
“We feel left out.”
“What if you get your sweater dirty again?” She smoothed back Seokjin’s hair. “You’re the man of
the hour. We can’t have that happen.”
“Seokjin-ah,” Taehyung’s father chimed in. “Appa’s going to wash that shirt for you, okay? It’ll be
good as new.”
“And if it doesn’t we’ll buy you a new one.”
Eventually she managed to herd the boys towards the foyer, convincing them to carry on with their
own day. “Go have fun. We have plenty of hands already.” She chuckled as they begrudgingly
wiggled into their coats, lending a helping hand to wrap Taehyung’s scarf around his neck, nice
and snug.
“Darling, you’re not cold?” She murmured, pinching at the fabric of Seokjin’s wool coat. He shook
his head, a smile blooming as she lifted her hand to cup at his cheek. Seokjin leaned into the touch.
“I’ll be okay, Eomma.”
She was right to worry. Early afternoon and the clouds hung thick and low, not a hint of the sky
above it. They let out a shiver as they walked away from the complex, frosty winter air seeping
through the cracks of their clothes. Taehyung looped his arm through Seokjin’s and snuggled
close, the pair huddling for warmth as they traversed down the barren sidewalk.
“What do you wanna do between now and dinner?”
Taehyung hummed. “Somewhere with just the two of us.”
“Mm. You wanna go home?”
They came to a stop at the bus station, the same meeting place they shared during their high school
days.
“I guess going home would make the most sense, but that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Oh?” Seokjin quirked a brow, curiosity piqued. “What’re you thinking, Kim Taehyung?”
“I know a place.”
The gates were locked.
It came as no surprise. By late December the school had cleared out, the students and faculty
recovering from a grueling academic year. Even the old ahjussi standing guard was gone, his post
empty. Taehyung and Seokjin stood at the foot of the gate, necks craned up in contemplation.
Seokjin cleared his throat, pointing towards the top edge, the spiked metal. “So if I stand on your
shoulders and both of us jumped at the same time—”
“Stop it,” Taehyung mumbled, smacking Seokjin on the chest before grabbing him by the hand and
pulling with intention.
Just around the block, past a dense cluster of camphor trees, there remained a rickety stretch of
chain-linked fence, a section for whatever reason the school never bothered to fix. No one ever
complained about their oversight; if anything the students celebrated it, used it to their full
advantage. Many evenings Hoseok and Jungkook would escape in this manner, hopping over to
freedom and running off to their Han river dates instead.
The fence was low enough that each of them could scale it without help.
“You wanna go first, or should I?” Seokjin asked. Taehyung was terrified of heights, and this was
enough to spook him.
“Can you go first?”
Seokjin nodded. Leaned over to give Taehyung an encouraging peck on the forehead, then hoisted
his long legs one after the other until he landed with ease on the opposite side.
“Ahhhhh,” Taehyung whined. “You make it look easy.”

“I’ve got you. Promise.”
He released a shaky exhale as he plucked up his courage. With utmost care he hooked his right
foot into one of the links, pushing himself off the ground, high enough so that he could slowly
lower his left leg onto the other side. For a moment he balanced himself precariously in the middle,
stomach swooping with every downward glance. Seokjin stood waiting with his arms outstretched.
“You got this.”
“I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
“Shut up.”
There sounded a noisy clang of metal as Taehyung made the leap, body colliding with Seokjin’s
and knocking him a couple steps backwards. He felt Seokjin’s arms wrapping around to steady
him, their laughter puncturing the otherwise quiet.
Quiet.
Never had they witnessed this place in such silence, the building hollowed out, the fields asleep
under a thin layer of frost. They walked hand in hand, grass crunching underneath their feet, taking
in the familiar landscape. The dusty old track, the soccer field sprawling past it. The basketball
court and its cracked concrete. The closer they got to the track, the quicker Seokjin’s pace became.
Taehyung already knew where this was going.
“Race you.” And off they went.
In a mad dash they sprinted for the track field, Seokjin taking a small lead, Taehyung just a step or
so behind. When it came to these silly races neither of them relented for the other. A gasp of horror
from Seokjin as Taehyung gained dangerously upon him, the two running neck to neck for a good
while, kicking up dirt in their wake, coats flapping maniacally behind them. In the very last
moment Taehyung gathered together all of his strength, throwing himself across the finish line and
defeating Seokjin by just a hair. They skidded to a halt to collect themselves, Seokjin letting out a
cry of defeat as Taehyung hunched over to breathe, hands gripping his knees.
“And I got a head start,” Seokjin tutted, giving Taehyung a congratulatory smack on the back.
“Owww.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“My back.”
“Does it hurt? Want me to rub it?”
“Can we do some stretches?”
“Of course. Good call.”
Worn out and uncomfortably warm from the running, they eventually meandered to the soccer field
to cool off, finding a suitable patch of turf to lower themselves onto. Seokjin laid on his back, eyes
closed, breathing deeply. Taehyung turned onto his side, pillowing his head with his arm.
“Been a long time since we came here,” Seokjin mumbled. “What made you think of this place?”
“Feeling extra sentimental today.”
“A little trip down memory lane?” He opened one eye to glimpse at Taehyung, who nodded
meekly in response.
Seokjin too rolled onto his side so that the two laid face to face. Scooted a little closer to lessen the
distance between them. Reached forward to run his fingers through Taehyung’s soft tresses, hand
coming to a rest behind Taehyung’s ear, rubbing at the cold skin of his earlobe.
“Remember our first date here?”
Taehyung pouted. “Our first year?”
“First year?” Seokjin laughed. “First year in high school? You mean the first time we talked, ever?
That counts as a date?”
“I’d say so. It was just the two of us, wasn’t it?”
“Well if you want to get technical. But I meant…I meant after we met again, actually.”
Taehyung remembered.
[ ♪ Me After You ]
The memories came rushing back in a whirlwind, just like their chance meeting that November
afternoon: Seongsu station, exit 2.
After Seokjin caught up to Taehyung, after the adrenaline simmered down to nervous tension,
neither of them knew quite what to do with themselves. Sometime during their exchange the sun
had set behind the Seoul skyline. At six o’clock in the evening and at his wits end, Seokjin
suggested they go to the nearest coffee shop to talk. The cafe was mostly empty save for a couple
patrons on the other side of the room, which meant any lapses in conversation was made all the
more awkward.
There were certain topics that were simply unavoidable, as heavy as they may be. “I heard so and
so happened.” “Are you okay?” “Have you been well?” Both spoke with exceptional caution,
cherry-picking words, timid glances. Taehyung remembered the sweater Seokjin was wearing that
day, vivid blue, the way his fingers picked at a stray thread until it unraveled entirely. Taehyung
didn’t realize he’d shredded his napkin to pieces until Seokjin pointed out the pile with a tiny
laugh.
They talked and talked until nightfall blanketed the city, until the cafe worker apologetically
announced the store’s closing, forcing them onto the sidewalk instead. In the evening chill, under
the cover of darkness, it made good sense to go their separate ways. Perhaps they would’ve if
Seokjin’s stomach didn’t growl as loud as it did. Taehyung let out a cackle, loud and real, and
Seokjin smiled back at him, hopeful.
“Did you want to grab dinner?” Taehyung suggested. Seokjin agreed quickly. “Sure.”
It was an unremarkable meal, a random establishment along the same block, four star average
reviews. Neither of them could recall exactly what they ordered. But Taehyung could never forget
it, the rosy tint to Seokjin’s cheeks, the tips of his ears practically on fire.
After paying the bill they returned to the same train station, this time headed in opposite directions.
They lingered in the center between the opposing escalators, before heading for their respective
platforms. Their hello again was difficult as it was. Goodbye was even harder.
“I’d like to see you again,” Seokjin said.
Taehyung answered, defiant. “We will see each other again.”
It was a strange thing, starting from zero yet with a thousand unspoken words. When Taehyung
arrived home later that night and received Seokjin’s follow-up text, it took everything in his
willpower not to jump on his bed, kick his legs in excitement.
Seokjin: Please don’t block me again :(
Taehyung: I won’t :)
That night he couldn’t sleep. Laid awake until dawn, snoozed for an hour at best. Woke up groggy
and delirious and to another message rendering him weak.
Seokjin: Um so I’ve been thinking
Seokjin: Would you want to go out to dinner again sometime?
Only later would Taehyung discover that Seokjin didn’t sleep a wink either.
Perhaps it was a part of growing up, that neither of them beat around the bush any longer.
Something about life wearing down the spirit, cutting to the bone, no bullshit. “Yes,” Taehyung
answered, no holding back.
Their second meeting happened very shortly after, this time at a location they’d carefully selected
in advance. A perfect halfway point between their two apartments, a new udon joint marked as “hot
and new” in the neighborhood. They met outside of the restaurant and exchanged nervous hellos,
Taehyung determined not to smile too much throughout the dinner and struggling immensely to do
so. Seokjin had changed. Chest and shoulders a bit broader, features more carved in, defined. The
unmistakable bags under his eyes. Certainly a world apart from the shy teenager Taehyung had met
at fifteen. Yet in many ways Seokjin hadn’t changed at all. He still made little noises as he enjoyed
his food. Still overly polite to wait staff, still scrunched his nose out of habit.
In a way it felt like meeting a stranger for the first time.
In another way it felt like coming home.
They kept their conversation light, most of it small talk, gentle heart to hearts. But towards the end
of their meal, as they washed down their udon with green tea, Seokjin decided to speak very
candidly, his shameless honesty catching Taehyung off guard.
“If it wasn’t obvious already, I still have feelings for you.” The cup in his hand trembled as he
spoke, as he held it against his lip, eyes fixed upon Taehyung over the edge of it.
“If you don’t feel the same way, you can just let me know.” Seokjin paused between sips, gaze
flitting down to his lap. “I’d rather you tell me upfront.”
“Would I be here if I didn’t feel the same way?”
Taehyung managed to keep his voice steady and cool. Seokjin on the other hand choked on his tea,
very uncool.
After dinner they detoured to the river to talk more; somehow being close to the water helped them
to think. The park along the river was largely abandoned, the usual crowds driven out by the
autumn chill. They took their time to walk, to digest. At some point they came to a stop, lowered
themselves onto cold concrete. Seokjin gazed out onto the water, black as night, when he asked:
“Where do we go from here.”
Taehyung looked out onto the water too, the city skyline on the other side of it twinkling back at
them, hope on the horizon.
“Anywhere we want,” Taehyung answered.
For a moment they held onto each other’s gaze, Taehyung trying his best to steady his pounding
heart. The wind toyed gently at Seokjin’s tresses. He looked so at peace now. Taehyung
remembered a time where the wind seemed to batter away at him instead. Everything in his present
reality felt like a dream. He pinched himself to check if he was truly awake.
“I never thought a day like this would come,” Seokjin confessed, as if reading his mind.
“Me too.”
“But now that we’re here…” He trailed off tentatively. “I-I don’t know what to do.”
Seokjin was terribly underdressed that evening, body trembling enough for Taehyung to take
notice. He held back the urge to reach over and hold his hand, offering him one of his gloves
instead, Seokjin accepting it with gratitude and slipping it over his right hand. The glove was a
little too big for Seokjin, the sight of it striking a tender chord in Taehyung. He wanted Seokjin to
keep it forever.
In that very moment, he realized what he wanted.
“I want to date you.”
“W-What do you mean?”
“I want to date you. You know. How do I explain. Go on dates. Go to cafes, the movies. Walk each
other home. Late night phone calls. I don’t know. I know this sounds stupid, it doesn’t make sense,
but it’s all these things I’ve wanted to do with you but I never got the chance.” He worried that he
sounded childish, naive. “Go back to the beginning, do all the things we missed.”
But Seokjin seemed fully on board, eyes alight, lips curved upwards in a smile. He glanced down
shyly before answering with a nod. “I’d like that, actually. I’d like that a lot.”
They beamed at one another, grinning stupid. Any passerby would think just that; two young
lovers meeting for the first time. Seokjin giggled before sticking out his gloved hand. “Kim
Seokjin. Nice to meet you.”
He played along without missing a beat, his own gloved hand meeting Seokjin’s in the middle.
“Kim Taehyung. Pleasure.”
“You’re really hot.”
Taehyung burst out laughing. “You say that to everyone on a first date?”
To which Seokjin balked, comically so. “This is our first date?”
“We’re sharing gloves. I’d say that’s pretty intimate.”
“I’m keeping this, by the way. Never giving it back.”
Good.
Before they parted that evening, as they waited on the curb for their respective cars, Seokjin
tentatively asked him a question.
“Your uh…I was…” A massive struggle. “Your mom invited me over for dinner this weekend. Is
that okay? Too fast?”
“Are you really thinking of not coming anymore?”
“So it’s okay if I come?”

“I mean, I guessssssss,” Taehyung drawled with a hefty eye roll. He received a gentle shove on the
shoulder, stumbling a couple steps backwards before Seokjin steadied him by the arm.
“Rude.”
“I’ll be mad, actually. If you don’t come.”
Taehyung’s car arrived first, yellow headlights slowing to a stop in front of them. Neither was very
good at goodbyes, never have been, never will be. Rather frantically they leaned in for a hug,
chests flush for a moment, nearly knocking each other in the head. It was the closest they’d been in
a very long time. He climbed into the backseat, waved goodbye to Seokjin through the tinted
windows. Clutched his arms close to his chest, clinging onto that residual warmth for as long as he
could. He could still feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, a wild thing. He wondered if
Seokjin had felt it too.
From then until the weekend they began texting. A couple times a day, nothing too crazy. On
Thursday he got a message in the middle of a meeting, Taehyung redirecting his attention to his
phone, smiling like an idiot at the words on the screen. He’d forgotten that he was in fact,
presenting, until a coworker reminded him with a phony cough.
Friday couldn’t come soon enough, because after Friday was Saturday, and after Saturday was
Sunday, and on Sunday Taehyung would see Seokjin again.
Perhaps his parents could feel his excitement brimming, but neither of them made mention of it.
On Sunday evening Seokjin arrived half past six, visibly nervous, smartly dressed, bearing gifts.
He was welcomed in as if he never left.
All of Seokjin’s favorite dishes were splayed out on the dining table, the family of five plus one
settling into their seats to dig in. The dinner was lovely, good food and even better conversation,
and after the meal was over they sat around to catch up a bit more over tea. “It’s been such a long
time since I’ve had a home cooked meal,” Seokjin said good-naturedly. An innocent statement, but
Taehyung didn’t miss the way his mother’s face twisted with pain.
“You’re always welcome here, Seokjin-ah.”
Even Taehyung’s bratty siblings remained at the table, eager to listen. “Seokjin oppa got even more
handsome,” was Eonjin’s contribution to the discussion. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”
At the end of the night Taehyung walked Seokjin not only to the door or out of the complex, but all
the way to the bus station. The pathway leading there was doused in blue, last of the day’s light
washing over them. They walked quietly side by side, close enough for the occasional brush of the
shoulder, words teetering at the tips of their tongues. They’d nearly reached the station when
Taehyung turned to him suddenly. “She meant that,” he said earnestly. “I mean it too. Whenever
you want, Jin. Our home is open to you.”
Whatever Seokjin had been thinking about was clearly bothering him. “Feel like I’ve troubled you
guys enough.”
Taehyung frowned. “No,” he replied adamantly. “Whatever you’re thinking, no.”
Perhaps they’d unpack that at another time.
It felt strange, two grown men crowded under the bus stop’s awning. On Sunday evenings the
schedule didn’t run quite as frequently, the two sitting down on the bench to wait for the next bus.
“You can go back,” Seokjin repeated twice, maybe three times.
“Do you want me to leave?” Taehyung sulked. Seokjin quickly backtracked on his word.
“No! That’s, that’s not what I meant—”
Tell me you want me to stay.
About ten minutes later the bus finally arrived, pulling up to their stop with a hydraulic whoosh, a
squeak of the door. The two scurried to their feet to exchange another hastened goodbye. They
leaned into one another, a brief embrace before attempting to pull apart. But the universe seemed to
have other plans, Seokjin’s sweater latching onto Taehyung’s jacket zipper. A collective panic
came over them as the bus driver eyed them quizzically, as the two worked furiously to untangle
themselves from one another.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Taehyung murmured, beet red. He didn’t dare look up, for he
could feel the warmth of Seokjin’s breath skirting his skin.
“Should I take you with me?” Seokjin joked and Taehyung burst into flame, a tomato on fire.
Once they sorted themselves out and the bus driver laughed at their expense, Taehyung walked
home in a daze. Walked past his befuddled family, down the hall to his room. Collapsed on the bed
and laid there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, replaying those words over and over again like a broken
record.
“Should I take you with me?” Taehyung repeated aloud, blooming crimson once more.
Can I go with you?
Eventually he would.
They went from texting a couple times a day to all throughout the day, from lunch break phone
calls to late night heart to hearts, Taehyung falling asleep on several occasions over FaceTime.
Everyday without Seokjin stretched very long, very tedious. Taehyung felt like it was high school
all over again. Wished it was high school – at the very least he’d get to sit in the same room as
Seokjin five days a week. His excitement concerned him. “You’re a grown man now,” he said to
his reflection in the mirror one morning. “Get a hold of yourself.” A text from Seokjin seconds
later and all of his resolve was undone.
He even reeled in Jimin and Jungkook for an objective, third party perspective. Except the two of
them were the farthest thing from objective, almost as equally invested as Taehyung and Seokjin
themselves. “Am I crazy?” Taehyung asked as he paced back and forth in the Park-Jeon living
room. “Am I allowed to feel this way?”
Jimin only laughed, gentle and sweet. “What do you expect it to be? Boring?”
Jungkook chimed in, no filter. “That’s the love of your damn life.”
“We’re trying not to pry, but we’re just as excited.”
There were no rules to this, Taehyung realized. Love was a free fall. He let himself fall a little more
each time.
But adulthood came with its rules and duties, and the two tried their best to nurture their budding
relationship despite it. At least a couple times a week they’d meet face to face, no matter how
fleeting. Dinner after work, movies on the weekend. Rushed breakfasts in the morning, sneaking
across town on extended lunch breaks. And when time allowed, when the universe was kinder and
time was merely a concept, they let it simmer slow, deep breaths, no limits. Long walks in the park.
Staying at the bar until closing. They wandered about the city, the world finally their oyster.
Winter was nearing and Seoul dragged itself through the grey, but to them it was blossoming,
petals unfurling.
As cold as the city had become, neither mentioned the prospect of staying in, although they
certainly entertained the idea on their own. Something about it felt like a huge step forward,
daunting. It wasn’t until a storm quite literally rained down on their ice skating plans that the two
found themselves standing in front of Seokjin’s apartment door, the sound of rain like white noise
in the background.
“It’s small,” Seokjin warned, droplets of water dripping from his hair. Taehyung smiled in
reassurance.
“I don’t even have my own place,” he reminded him.
The door opened to an apartment that was indeed small but homey, too. The space wasn’t
spectacularly decorated; Seokjin always valued practicality over aesthetics. But as Taehyung
stepped in, as he slipped off his shoes and surveyed the room around him, clearly the place was
worn in, well loved. A soft throw blanket draped over a secondhand couch. A partially assembled
puzzle spread out on the coffee table. 1,000 pieces, the box said. Ambitious. Empty coffee cups and
stray hoodies scattered about. Half burnt candles and bills stacked on the counter. Even a little
plant by the windowsill, leaves a brilliant green in the wake of winter. To the average eye the
apartment was nothing incredible, if anything painfully ordinary. To Taehyung it felt like triumph.
Like courage, freedom. Seokjin had built a life entirely his own.
“Do you like it?” he asked nervously.
“This is lovely.”
Having already eaten dinner, Seokjin cracked open a bottle of merlot instead. A housewarming gift
from Jia, self-proclaimed wine connoisseur. Poured each of them a glass before leading them
towards the couch in the living room, setting the bottle on the coffee table for convenient refills.
A sliver of window was cracked open, letting in the smell of rain meeting earth, curtains billowing
in the breeze. “Are you cold?” Seokjin asked as they settled on opposite ends of the couch.
Taehyung pulled the blanket over him, thick and plush, a hint of Seokjin woven in. He shook his
head, swimming in delight. Seokjin carefully draped the other end of the blanket over his own lap
too.
Their conversation picked up where they left off, a continuation of their talks from earlier that
evening before the rain came. Of catching each other up on the insanity of their days, of office
politics and funny mishaps. But as the night wore on, as the wine slowly emptied from their
glasses; something about the hour and the rain caused a shift in the room. More honest, more
vulnerable. They allowed for long pauses between thoughts, drawn out silences. Seokjin rubbed the
stem of his glass as he ruminated, Taehyung fixed on his slender fingers. Hands of grace and
strength, he thought to himself in his drunken haze.
“I’m so proud of you, Jin,” he said aloud. Seokjin’s ears flushed pink, and it wasn’t because of the
alcohol.
He watched Seokjin rise from the couch to seal the window shut, the ambient noises from the
street below snuffed to silence. From one of the kitchen drawers he fetched a lighter, tipping the
flame towards a dying candle. A clean, light scent soon filled the room, one that very much suited
Seokjin. Just as he settled back down on the couch Taehyung stretched out his leg; closer to him,
but not quite touching.
It was as they drained the last of their wine that Seokjin came undone.
There’d always been hints of his sorrow scattered throughout their exchanges; of the regret he
carried, the guilt that consumed him. Sometimes it would slip without Seokjin even knowing it,
Taehyung always quick to notice and refute it. But as the clock ticked past midnight and the storm
showed no signs of ceasing, this sadness was inevitably rising to the surface, bubbling out of
Seokjin in the form of broken words and eventually, tears. Taehyung didn’t interrupt him this time.
Let him release and relinquish. He sat across from the man he loved in worried silence, blinking
back his own tears. When Seokjin ran out of words, he looked up from his lap at Taehyung, hurting
yet hopeful.
“I’m sorry.”
Taehyung wanted to hold him. Wanted to crawl over and close the distance between them, pull
Seokjin close. Something told him it wasn’t what Seokjin needed in that moment. Instead he
scooted forward just the slightest until their feet grazed under the blanket. “I’m sorry too.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“For everything you’ve had to go through on your own.”
That night he left long after the trains had stopped running. Sometime early dawn Seokjin let out a
yawn, Taehyung taking his cue to check on the time. “I should go,” he whispered, though every
fiber of his being wanted to stay. Seokjin too hesitated before nodding in agreement, helping
Taehyung gather his belongings and hail a car home. In the narrow entryway they paused in their
steps, the two of them lingering with bated breath. Goodbyes shouldn’t take this long, Taehyung
thought to himself as he took in the look of him, flushed cheeks and messy hair. But that was the
thing, wasn’t it? Late nights, cold rain, red wine. It made people weak. Very slowly they slid their
arms around one another, melding into an embrace, this time neither of them letting go. He buried
his face into Seokjin’s neck, deep breaths in and out, breathing in all of him. He could feel
Seokjin’s cheek pressed firmly against his temple, the warmth of his skin. Just a little taste and he
already wanted more. He could feel the way Seokjin wanted it too, the way his fingers gently
curled into his hair, then trailed along the nape of his neck. And when they finally parted, when
Taehyung’s phone alerted that his driver had arrived, they chose to ignore it for just a moment
more. The way Seokjin looked at him was certain. The way he brushed the hair out of Taehyung’s
eyes, tucking it behind his ears – his knees nearly buckled, and he nearly gave in.
The entire car ride home Taehyung held a hand to the side of his face where Seokjin’s hand had
touched.
How much longer Taehyung could carry on like this, he wasn’t sure.
Together they turned over the years that had passed. Unfolded the creases and smoothed them out;
every honest word, a knot undone. Seokjin looked at him with an intensity now, a sense of
direction that made Taehyung shiver. Yet at the end of the night they always parted with a hug, and
Taehyung found himself growing impatient.
By then it was nearly December, Christmas lights sprouting all over the city. After dinner one
night they found themselves at a train station again, this time headed in the same direction, at least
for a couple stops. Seokjin would get off a little earlier and transfer to a different track. They were
waiting for their train when he noticed Seokjin’s hands, raw and red. He must’ve forgotten his
gloves again. With a small fuck it he “accidentally” bumped his hand into Seokjin’s, biting back a
smile before interlacing their fingers together.
It was as if Seokjin had been waiting for this, his next question leaving his mouth faster than he
could register. “Can I take you on a date?”
Taehyung laughed. He wondered what they’d been doing all this time, but he didn’t question him.
Just nodded sweetly, swinging their hands back and forth between them.
Look, world. We’re holding hands.
Seokjin didn’t let go of Taehyung’s hand for the entire train ride. They leaned against the railing,
Taehyung pressed into Seokjin’s side, arms woven together, fingers locked like they were holding
hands for the first time. If you asked them how many people were on the train that night, what kind
of crowd stood in their vicinity, they couldn’t tell. He only remembered the way Seokjin ran his
thumb over the hills and valleys of his knuckles, the way he’d tighten his grip every so often as if
he’d lose him. Upon reaching Seokjin’s station they separated reluctantly, Seokjin waiting for the
train to depart before leaving, waving at Taehyung through the little glass window.
The absence of Seokjin’s hand was jarring.
Taehyung didn’t have a clue as to what kind of surprise date Seokjin had in store. “Do you guys
know?” He asked Jimin and Jungkook, whose sly smirks gave them away immediately. “Give me
a hint,” Taehyung pestered them. Jungkook started talking only to be shushed by an unyielding
Jimin.
On the day of the date, of all the places in Seoul, they ended up where it all began; the soccer field
behind their old high school.
It was a chilly afternoon, a Saturday. They hopped over the low-lying fence; back then the gates
had also been closed. Seokjin carried with him everything they could possibly need for a picnic. A
blanket to lay on, homemade sandwiches, carefully rolled kimbaps (albeit barely holding their
shape), hot soup to keep warm, soft drinks, all of Taehyung’s favorites. He even pulled out a
speaker for music. Synced it up to his phone and played all of the jazzy love songs that Taehyung
liked. “Jungkook’s speaker?” Taehyung pointed out. Seokjin nodded, adorably flustered.
After finishing their meal they took to the track, which was probably – no, definitely – a bad idea.
“Remember how we used to race here?” Seokjin asked, rounding the corner in a backwards jog.
“Yes,” Taehyung narrowed his eyes, already picking up on the glint in Seokjin’s.
“It’s cold, isn’t it? Wanna warm up a little?”

Without warning Taehyung sprinted ahead, quite literally leaving Seokjin in the dust. “Not fair!”
He could hear Seokjin protest from behind, Taehyung cackling as the wind rushed past his ears,
stinging his skin. He’d gotten a considerable head start, the finish line just within reach. Yet
Taehyung found himself slowing his pace, turning his head to look back. It was the way Seokjin
was running towards him, wild and unrestrained. Suddenly an inexplicable joy flooded his entire
being, Taehyung breaking into a foolish smile. Shortly after, Seokjin's body was crashing into his,
propelling the two of them over the finish line together. Taehyung laughed until he was breathless.
Seokjin held on and didn't let go.
Somewhere on the western horizon, the sun was dipping low. They laid down on the blanket and
looked up at the clouds. Nothing but grey, nothing to see, the sky forcing them to look at one
another instead. Taehyung was the first to turn to his side, observing Seokjin with his chin tilted
up, sloping nose, delicate profile. When Seokjin teared away from the clouds to finally meet his
gaze, a small fire was already burning in his chest. They locked eyes, Seokjin’s searching
Taehyung’s, Taehyung wondering what he was looking for.
And then Seokjin spoke, soft and yearning. “I like you so much.”
“You like me?” Taehyung blinked back, his heart dancing.
Seokjin didn’t waver. “Yeah.”
Taehyung already knew the answer, but he asked anyway: “Do you love me?”
“For a long time, yeah.”
From there it was a bit of a blur. Taehyung shifted closer until their noses were touching. Seokjin
lifted his hand to Taehyung’s jaw, questioning. Taehyung paused a beat longer before leaning in,
committing the moment to memory.
Because the thrill, the rush he felt as Seokjin kissed him back; it felt like the first time. It also felt
like coming home.
He could feel Seokjin shudder against his lips, Taehyung fighting back tears with every touch.
Why did they take it slow?
Seokjin-ah. Kim Seokjin. My love, my love.
Ten years had come and gone and he still looked at Taehyung the same. Before Seokjin even
realized it himself, before he even knew what love was.
The audacity of Seokjin to ask if Taehyung remembered. There wasn’t a single moment that he
didn’t. The good and the bad, he took it all in stride.
He scooted closer just as he did before, Seokjin wrapping his arms around his back. Cupped
Seokjin’s face in his hands and brought their foreheads together.
“Of course I remember,” he kissed soft and slow. “How could I forget.”
About a year into dating, Taehyung officially moved into Seokjin’s apartment.
It was hard to say, however, when they actually started living together. A gradual process: an extra
toothbrush here, a dedicated drawer there. Little by little the apartment was rearranged to make
room for Taehyung’s things. Half of his wardrobe somehow ended up in Seokjin’s closet. The
bathroom was armed with two of everything; two towels, two slippers, two robes. The once barren
pantry stocked with junk food and soft drinks. Even artwork began making its way up the walls.
Modern art always went over Seokjin’s head, but he admitted that it added a nice touch.
Many years ago, a certain weekend in February, they’d seen a glimpse of a future together. Lazy
mornings in bed, late night grocery runs. In that brief but wondrous time they believed they already
knew all there was to know about each other. Sharing a living space, however, was like opening up
a portal to a Seokjin he didn’t know existed. For as put together of a person as he was, Seokjin
wreaked absolute havoc in the kitchen, throwing random shit together and hoping for the best. Or
how Seokjin would sleep-talk if he was really, really tired, usually nonsense such as “Oh, what a
lovely parrot,” or “I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to give me back my shoes.” How
Seokjin resorted to toilet paper rolls instead of tissues. His newfound obsession with puzzles, the
more pieces the better. And to Taehyung’s surprise, how much Seokjin liked to be babied, and how
much Taehyung loved babying him.
It was an ordinary relationship, an ordinary life. They worked their 9-5. They met up with friends.
They went about their day as best as they could and looked forward to seeing each other at the end
of it. Seokjin had never known the true meaning of “home” until he walked into his apartment to
find Taehyung wearing one of his old sweaters and no pants, lying sideways on the couch and
eating cereal straight out of the box. So this is what they meant, when they say God made man in
his image.
And so this ordinary life felt a little bit like heaven. Nights spent exploring one another, no sleep,
making love. Dozing off to Netflix and waking up in the dark, limbs tangled together. It was the
insurmountable happiness he didn’t know he could feel: when Seokjin walked through the door,
the way his face would light up when he realized Taehyung was there.
Heaven.
When they first started dating, Seokjin upgraded from his pitiful single to a decent double bed, but
it was still a bit cramped for the two of them. He wanted to go mattress shopping again. Taehyung
happily tagged along, thrilled about their little adventure to the furniture store. They laid down on a
myriad of mattresses until they seemed to find the perfect one; not too hard, not too soft, plenty of
room for both of them. Seokjin turned over to catch Taehyung grinning. “Do you like this one?”
Taehyung shrugged. “They’re all nice. Whichever one you like more, it’s your mattress.”
“Ours.”
“Mm?”
“Wanna move in with me?”
They say Taehyung’s scream could be heard from the refrigerator aisle.
The move was quick and painless, considering half of his belongings were already there. He
simply hauled over more clothes and appliances, plus a couple more art pieces to fill up the walls.
But it didn’t take long to realize that the space – as lovely as it was – simply wasn’t suitable for
two grown men. Some days one of them would come home with a new toaster or another lamp and
find that there was nowhere to put it.
They spent several months apartment hunting until they found an available unit a couple streets
over, in a brand new building completed the year prior. The unit was double the space but luckily
just within their means. Taehyung felt they’d reached pinnacle adulthood, locking in the lease
together, putting down the deposit. Running back to the furniture store to pick out bigger pieces
they both liked. A proper sectional that jutted out, long enough for Seokjin to stretch his legs
without his feet dangling over. Wide enough for the two of them to cuddle comfortably, thoroughly
tested before purchase. A glass coffee table paired with aesthetic coffee table books. And of course
the very spacious bed that they’d chosen together, great for rolling around and other activities. The
whole apartment got good light, especially in the mornings – paramount importance to Seokjin.
In the grand scheme of things, they didn’t have much. Stable and fair jobs, the occasional
promotion here and there. A secondhand car that they were still paying off. Enough money to get
by, but not enough to buy a home. There were dreams they once shared that now seemed
fantastical. Of owning a farm, going off the grid. Of traveling the world, Tokyo to Paris. But these
were dreams they didn’t think about anymore. Whatever they built in their time together was
undoubtedly better. On many evenings Taehyung arrived home a bit earlier than Seokjin. On said
days he’d hear it, the pounding of Seokjin’s footsteps approaching before he’d barrel through the
door in his mad rush to see Taehyung. “Breathe, baby,” Taehyung would giggle, and Seokjin
would kiss him quiet. With every kiss, Taehyung counted himself rich.
They opted for the bus to head to dinner in Hongdae, the pair settling down in an empty row
towards the back, Taehyung plastered against the window, Seokjin planted right beside him. With
current traffic conditions it would take a good half hour, Taehyung digging out his headphones for
the two of them to share. He scrolled through his library till he found their shared playlist,
Taehyung pressing play and leaning back in his seat. For a good while they sat in pleasant silence,
save for the R&B crooning in their ears. Taehyung fixed his gaze on the passing scenery, his hand
absentmindedly rubbing circles on Seokjin’s knee. Seokjin busied himself with the groupchat,
reiterating directions to the restaurant for absolute clarity.
He finished typing out his messages, locking his phone and tucking it away in his pocket. Slid his
hand under Taehyung’s, lacing their fingers together. The warmth of his skin, the bus glowing gold.
Taehyung could feel himself thawing.
“When did you realize it was me?” He asked suddenly.
“Hmm?”
Taehyung paused the music. “You know.” But Seokjin didn’t know, a perplexed expression etched
across his face. Realizing how vague his question was, he navigated to his photo gallery to show
Seokjin a picture. A photo of a white rose sitting on their kitchen counter.
“This?” Seokjin laughed. “Why are you so nervous about this, baby.”
“I don’t even know.”
“When do you think I realized?”
Taehyung wasn’t sure. He feared for the worst. “Don’t tell me it was early on. Did you know right
away?”
“I wasn’t the brightest, you know this.”
“Shut up,” he nibbled at his lip. “So…so it wasn’t during high school?”
“Want me to tell you?”
Taehyung nodded.
“It wasn’t till we actually started dating.”
“What? L-Like…when we made it official?”
“Like last year, Taehyung-ah.”
“What?”
He couldn’t hide the relief in his voice. Seokjin was as brilliant as they come, except when it came
to feelings.
“You know how I knew?” Seokjin grinned. “You remember, that year. I received a lot of roses
before people got tired of seeing my face. Most of the messages were pretty dumb. Almost made
me uncomfortable. But your note was so sincere, so I kept it for a long time. Wondered if there was
anyone at our school that actually liked me.”
“Oh wow.”
“I read it so much I memorized the look of it. But I didn’t put the two and two together until we
started dating. Till we started leaving notes for each other at home. I think I was literally reading a
sticky note of yours one morning and it suddenly dawned on me. Your “ㅎ” looks like an apple,
did you know that?”
“It does?”
“It does, it’s very cute,” he leaned over, pressing his lips to Taehyung’s temple. “But yeah. I got so
excited when I realized it was you.”
“But we were already dating though?” This time it was Taehyung’s turn to laugh, moon eyes.
“Well yeah,” Seokjin mumbled sheepishly. “Still so cool to find out that the mystery man was
you.”
“Took you long enough.”
“I know. I wish I figured it out sooner.”
“Why?”
“Maybe if I’d known when I was younger…I don’t know. Maybe things would’ve happened
differently.”
He knew Seokjin regretted it, the years that they missed. Taehyung fell quiet, a sharp sadness
piercing him.
“Doesn’t matter how we got here. As long as we’re here. That’s all that matters.”
He linked his arm with Seokjin’s, buried his face into his shoulder. He could hear Seokjin chuckle
before leaning close to whisper in his ear. Whatever he said made Taehyung double over in
giggles, the otherwise quiet bus filled with sounds of their laughter.
Outside the world was cold and blue. Inside their world was warm, golden.
By the time they disembarked in Hongdae, they were running a bit late.
They hurried past the crowds to the designated meeting place, ends of their coats flapping in the
wind like capes. Taehyung scrolled through their group chat as they ran, reading off everyone’s
current statuses.
“Joonie just got out of class. He’ll be late too but he’s already on the way.”
“Hobi and Yoongi are already there.” Taehyung paused before letting out a cackle. “Hobi says
Yoongi is hangry.”
“Uh oh.”
“No word yet from Jimin or Jungkook.”
“God knows what they’re doing,” Seokjin mumbled as he received an incoming text from his
brother.
Seokjung: What’s the name of the restaurant again?
They spotted the restaurant’s signage from a distance, the pair picking up their pace into a light jog
as they approached the shop’s entrance. Just as they walked past the store window they heard a
loud banging against the glass, Yoongi peering up at them with a scowl, an angry cat.
“WALK FASTER!” They could hear his muffled yelling.
There was no particular reason why they’d picked this place. The alcohol selection was decent, and
it had enough space to accommodate a large party. The moment they entered the premises they
were tackled by a very exuberant Hoseok, hooking an arm around each of them in a vice-like grip.
“My pretty little babies! My sweet, beautiful babies–”
“I am very. VERY. Hungry,” Yoongi interjected from the side, Taehyung ruffling his hair to
appease his fury.
“I know, I know. We’ve heard.”
The group checked in with the hostess, who led them to a cozy alcove towards the back of the
restaurant, a long table set and ready for nine. The four of them settled into their seats, Seokjin
accepting the menus from the hostess and distributing them to the rest: Yoongi first, of course.
“Do we know what we’re ordering?”
“Order whatever,” Seokjin waved. “It’s on us.”
“Wowwwwww,” Hoseok beamed, flipping through the pages with gusto.
“Did you guys come from work?” Taehyung asked, slipping his coat off his shoulders.
“I did. Got out early and waited at the bottom of Yoongi’s building, throwing pebbles at his
window.”
“Ridiculous,” Yoongi murmured, albeit with a smile. His office was on the thirty-seventh floor.
It was a refreshing change to see Hoseok leaving work at a reasonable time. After several years of
grinding away at the studio, he finally rose in the ranks to become a junior producer, his schedule
far more flexible than before, his pay decent enough to support not only him but his family, too. In
recent months he worked on some tracks for newer idol groups, and just last week one of the songs
he co-produced was charting fairly well.
Yoongi, sticking true to his life principles, secured an objectively mediocre office job. He worked
amidst a sprawling cubicle farm, the monotony of his day cut through thanks to free coffee and
catered lunches. During his time off he simply luxuriated. Joined a needlessly expensive gym for
its lavender eucalyptus towels. Invested in a six million won massage chair and made plenty of
good use out of it. In about a week Yoongi was jetting off for a short vacation in Australia. “It’s
summer down there,” was his only explanation why.
The two of them could not have approached life more differently, Hoseok caught up in the hustle,
Yoongi sleeping on a bed of roses. Hoseok jumped from one meaningless fling to another. The
closest Yoongi ever came to a romantic interest was his six million won massage chair. Yet after
all of these years, nearly a decade having come and gone, they still managed to remain the best of
friends, Hoseok faithfully waiting at the bottom of Yoongi’s building.
“Hob-ah. I heard your song while I was shopping the other day,” Seokjin declared proudly. “That
part you included in the beginning, that funky beat? That’s the killing part.”
“RIGHT? I had to fight them to keep that part in.”
“I bet they’re going to play it here,” Taehyung mused, faint k-pop playing through the restaurant’s
sound system.
“Nah. Mine’s still too new. Sounds like they’re playing the classics.”
“Is everyone ready?” Their waitress interrupted, having quietly approached their table.
“Oh no, sorry. Haven’t decided yet. Can we get five more minutes?”
She nodded and turned away, the four of them redirecting their focus to the menus at hand, Seokjin
compiling a list of dishes on his phone.
“Jokbal,” Hoseok rattled off.

“Pajeon. Both seafood and kimchi, to be safe.”
“How many bottles of soju should we get?”
“Get the green grape flavor. Joonie’s favorite.”
They could hear muted footsteps approaching the table once more.
“So sorry, we’re still not read—” Seokjin widened his eyes upon seeing Namjoon’s tall frame
instead, Seokjung and Jia also in tow.
“These two got lost,” Namjoon pointed at the pair standing behind him. “Thank god I found them
or else who knows where they’d end up.”
“How’d you get lost? The sign is right there.”
“But the font is so weird?” Jia snapped back, her frostiness melting away upon spotting Hoseok
and Yoongi.
“Yahhhh, it’s been a while,” she laughed, both of them rising from their seats to give her and
Seokjung a proper greeting. Hilarious, how swimmingly Jia got along with their little friend group.
She and Yoongi in particular were two peas in a pod, perhaps closer than Seokjin would ever be to
either of them.
“Joon-ah, you look sooooo handsome,” Taehyung surveyed his friend up and down, Namjoon
shaking his head as he lowered himself next to Yoongi.
“I have to dress like this,” he defended his style choice. A very proper outfit, black turtleneck and
wool coat, pressed slacks that flaunted his long legs. “Everyone shows up to class like this. The
pressure, man.”
Law school was no walk in the park, but Namjoon could walk on the moon if he wanted to,
Taehyung reckoned. He was now in his last year of school, his friends having witnessed the insane
ups and downs he’d endured since the beginning. The bulk of his time was spent studying for the
LEET exam now, hence his bandwidth was very limited, his free time very rare. Didn’t have the
capacity for dating, bid goodbye to his social life too. But whenever he did manage to make an
appearance, he always made the best of it, not a moment wasted.
Nearly the entire party was present, save for a particular couple that ran notoriously late. Taehyung
leaned over to review Seokjin’s list, a lengthy conglomerate of everyone’s unique preferences.
Seokjin furrowed his brow, pointing out a couple of items to Taehyung.
“Jimin and Jungkook should like these, right?”
“As long as it’s meat, they’re fine.”
They rang over the waitress, read off the entire list and repeated it once more to be certain. It
wasn’t until the waitress returned with their ten bottles of soju that a very flustered Jimin and
Jungkook arrived on the scene, cheeks flushed and breathless as if they’d been running. Their
tardiness surprised no one, but everyone still gave them hell for it.
“Look who decided to join,” Hoseok teased as Jungkook settled beside Namjoon, Jimin slipping
into the seat next to Taehyung.
“Traffic?” Yoongi teased, a smirk on his lips. Their apartment was a ten minute walk away.
“I mean, foot traffic, yes?” Jungkook retorted. “So many people out on the streets today.”
It was the weekend before Christmas, Hongdae swelling with festivities. Taehyung adored this
little pocket of Seoul. Loved it the most during this time of the year.
The drinking began before the food even arrived. Hoseok took care in pouring everyone’s shots,
distributing them around the table and spearheading the games. By the time the food arrived a good
number of them were already quite tipsy, the dishes even more satisfying because of it. All
throughout the dinner they continued playing games, Jungkook losing so many times Yoongi joked
it was rigged against him. Jimin couldn’t bear to watch his demise, taking nearly every other
penalty shot on Jungkook’s behalf.
Taehyung had no intention of drinking himself into the ground. He wanted to remember this night
very clearly, so that should he ever like to revisit this memory, he could play it back like a film
reel.
Like the way Seokjin was seated by his side, laughing so uproariously tears pricked the corners of
his eyes. Seokjung sat to his left, his chuckles low and discreet, albeit his shaking shoulders giving
him away. Jia was presently up on her feet, engaged in a heated debate with Jungkook over who
had just lost the last round. Hoseok offered a feeble attempt at diffusing the situation, evidently
amused by the showdown unfolding. Yoongi ping-ponged back and forth between them as well,
his gummy smile on full display. Namjoon busied himself with refilling everyone’s water glasses.
He locked eyes with Taehyung as he motioned for his glass. “So good looking,” Taehyung winked,
Namjoon responding with a coy eye-roll.
Jungkook had lost, the majority determined. Up on his feet he went once more, chugging a whole
can of beer in one go, fueled by the cheers of his friends around the table. Jimin gawked in
disbelief at his boyfriend’s antics, eyes a little glazed over, head lolling to the side and coming to a
rest on Taehyung’s shoulder.
“You guys excited for tomorrow?” Namjoon asked once the competition died down, nodding
towards the couple in question. Taehyung and Seokjin shared a look, then a shrug.
“Doesn’t feel real yet.”
“Not until we’re up there saying our vows.”
“Apologies in advance,” Seokjin said. “It’s not going to be the fanciest wedding.”
“Ah, who cares about that kind of stuff,” Yoongi assured him. “The amount of money people
waste on one day is crazy. As long as everyone’s together in one room, that’s all that matters, isn’t
it?”
“Jia and I didn’t even have a wedding,” Seokjung reminded him. “Just went to the district office.
Still had a great time.”
Seokjin remembered that day vividly. Himself plus Jia’s childhood best friend served as witnesses
to their matrimony. At most they dressed a little nicer than usual, took some pictures on the front
steps of the building. Hosted a quaint dinner at their apartment in Busan. Taehyung was in
attendance that evening as well. He’d fallen in love with their three clingy cats.
“So we know Taehyung’s gonna cry,” Jungkook interjected. “But Jin, will you?”
“Why, do you have a bet going on?”
Jungkook choked on his drink. “Um—”
“Just to spite you, I won’t.”
“Okay, just don’t hurt yourself up there.”
“I’ll be looking you dead in the eye, don’t worry.”
He quickly turned to Taehyung, whispering in his ear. “I’ll probably be crying.” Taehyung
cackled.
It was a simple wedding, two hours at most, set to take place in one of Seoul’s many wedding
halls. At any given moment there were four or five other weddings happening in the same venue.
They didn’t really care.
There was a surprising simplicity to their dynamic that shocked even their closest friends. When
they first announced their relationship to the group, no one knew what to expect. They’d witnessed
their budding friendship in school, the way the two often disappeared into their own little world.
And given how winding, how painful of a journey it’d been to get to this point, they expected a bit
of pageantry and were fully prepared for it. What they witnessed was a quiet contentment instead.
As if the world could be wiped clean and they’d fare just fine. As long as they had each other.
They’d devoured the food, with just one bottle of soju left in their stockpile. He found it hilarious,
how everyone sported a sort of glassy-eyed look. Even Jimin who drank alcohol like water was
loose at the seams. Taehyung felt warm, borderline tipsy. Warmest in the parts where he was
touching Seokjin.
It was then that the peace was broken by a very loud proclamation.
“Yes, yes, this is the moment,” Hoseok raised his glass with vigor. “Y’all know what time it is.”
He stood to his feet, recharged with a terrifying energy. Yoongi immediately groaned in protest.
“SPEECHES!”
“I didn’t prepare,” Namjoon said earnestly.
“That’s okay, we won’t judge you. We know you’re very busy.”
“Thank you.”
“Everyone, take another shot to warm up!”
Taehyung appreciated it very much, the way Hoseok swept through the room and made it come
alive. Some of their friends veered on the shy side, struggled to express their feelings, but Hoseok
never held back. Abounding in love. He watched as everyone around the table clinked glasses, as
each person downed their portion, liquid courage.
“I’ll go first,” Hoseok volunteered, still up on his feet. His face glowed beet red as he cleared his
throat for his audience.
His mind was a little woozy, so a large part of Hoseok’s speech went in one ear and out the other.
He couldn’t recall Hoseok’s exact words. Just knew he was sending them a litany of blessings,
manifesting a future beyond their wildest dreams. “Huge mansion overlooking the city. Ten cars, a
helicopter pad. Five dogs and five cats for Taehyung. A room that’s just a giant mattress for
Seokjin.” Taehyung glanced to his side, Seokjin’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “Big house. Big
cars. Big rings.” Was he rapping? “And babies. Lots and lots and lots of babies,” Hoseok ended on
this note, lifting his shot glass high, liquid spilling over the rim and sloshing onto the floor. The
rest of the table followed suit, blink of an eye and another round gone. Very quickly Hoseok
beckoned for their glasses, refilling them carefully as Yoongi fired up for his own speech.
Yoongi didn’t stand. Remained coolly seated, voice low and monotone. At first he seemed almost
nervous to speak, but quickly he fell into the rhythm of it, naturally diverging into an embarrassing
story of Taehyung and Seokjin in high school. “You guys thought you were sooo sneaky but
everyone knew,” he wagged his finger at them. “Maybe before either of you knew.”
“Lies, you didn’t know.”
“But at the end of the day, I’m just happy you guys figured it out,” Yoongi barreled on, ignoring
Seokjin’s snark. “To the two happiest idiots I’ve ever seen.”
He finished on such a soft note that the teasing was almost worth it.
Historically Namjoon had a way of stealing the show, despite never coming prepared for it. A hush
fell over the table as he prepared to speak, just ambient sounds of the establishment surrounding
them.
“I’m not trying to make this about me, I swear,” he forewarned, Taehyung and Seokjin nodding
encouragingly.
“I think for the longest time…I struggled to understand what ‘home’ meant to me. Whether it’s this
city, where we grew up…or if it’s there, where I started a new life.”
They were hanging onto every word.
“Part of me believed that if I went to someplace new, I’d finally find that missing piece that would
somehow make me whole.” He shook his head. “Obviously that didn’t happen.”
Gentle laughter.
“I came back to Seoul thinking I’d never find that sense of belonging, that I’d never be able to look
at a map and pinpoint ‘home.’ What I realized instead…and forgive me for being corny…is that a
home is not a house, a building, a city. Home is the moment I landed in Seoul, when I saw
Taehyung and Jimin in the lobby of Gimpo airport. I think that’s when I knew…so this is home.”
“A place is only as good as the people in it. For me, I realized I found it in you guys—” He
gestured towards the people seated at the table. “And for you two,” he beamed at the soon-to-be-
newlyweds. “How lucky that you found it in each other.”
“Wow,” Jungkook let out a breath in awe.
Namjoon lifted his glass, the rest of his friends joining him. “To Taehyung and Seokjin for finding
their way home.”
“Motherfucker you DEFINITELY prepared that beforehand,” Yoongi snarled.
“Swear I didn’t.”
For the entirety of his speech Namjoon had remained seated. Jungkook wasted no time in shooting
up to his feet, Taehyung and Seokjin sharing a quick glance of amusement. Jungkook was a
wildcard. They braced themselves for whatever was to come.
“I may not take many things in life seriously,” he drawled. “But I take your happiness very.
Fucking. Seriously.” He cowered over the table menacingly, Taehyung and Seokjin leaning back in
fear. “So you two better be happy, got it?”
Taehyung nodded as Seokjin coaxed him to sit down. “Okay, okay. Got it.”
“He’s so wasted, this asshole.”
Jimin had been surprisingly mellow within the last hour, perhaps the liquor striking something
tender within him. He remained frozen in his place, debating whether to stand or to sit. Nibbled on
his lip, fixed on his shot glass in thought. Suddenly his gaze flicked upwards to Taehyung and
Seokjin, the two of them surprised to find tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill forth.
Jungkook spotted it before anyone else did, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Jimin’s back.
“You’re okay honey,” he whispered, barely audible.
Jimin took a deep breath, in and out. Gathered his composure and turned to face his two best
friends, huffing a smile. He could feel Seokjin’s hand finding his own underneath the table,
Taehyung giving it an assuring squeeze.
“I don’t know what to say,” Jimin began, voice hoarse from the soju. “I think I’m drunk.”
“You’re doing good,” Hoseok cheered him on. Jimin gained confidence.
“Not gonna lie,” he spoke slowly. “For a while you guys really, really stressed me out.” The others
chuckled quietly, Taehyung’s heart clenching with a phantom pain.
“I want to say I’m sorry, for being meddling at times—”
“You weren’t.”
“—Or if I nagged you, if I interfered too much. But I think…I think I cared so much because I
knew, I knew you guys were meant to be together.”
Taehyung swallowed down the lump in his throat. Seeing Jimin like this kind of verged on
heartbreak.
“Life tends to go one way or the other. We get what we want, or we don’t. I don’t know if you
guys know this, but I really think you should. Even in the worst of times, everyone at this table was
rooting for you in their own way. All of us wanted this for you.”
“So to see you two together. Finally.” Jimin scrunched his nose, fighting back tears. “The universe
has moved for us. I think it agrees. You two were meant to be.”
Before Jimin could finish his toast Taehyung reeled him in, pulling him close. He could feel
Jimin’s cheek squished against his shoulder, tears wetting the fabric of his sweater. Could feel
Seokjin reaching over to hold Jimin’s hand. “Love you,” Seokjin murmured, Jimin giggling as he
replied, “Love you more.”
Seokjung sat on Seokjin’s other side, hands folded in the form of a prayer. “How am I supposed to
follow up with that.”
“Everything you say is awesome, hyung,” Jimin objected.
“Yes, hyung,” Hoseok chimed in. “Especially coming from you.”

“Well alright,” Seokjung shrugged, swiveling in his seat to look Taehyung in the eye, his gaze very
gentle, tender as can be. Taehyung loved Seokjung, their silent protector. The only real family
Seokjin had left, who treated Taehyung like family, too.
“Taehyung-ah,” he beamed. “I’ve known you for almost as long as Seokjin has. I’ve always loved
you then, but I love you even more now. Couldn’t ask for a better brother-in-law.”
Seokjung was a man of few words. Perhaps because he didn’t need very many to hit close to home.
“Thank you, hyung.”
“Seokjin-ah,” he turned his attention to Seokjin, smiling for a moment then falling quiet, at a loss.
Seokjin waited in anticipation, with a look of innocence reserved only for Seokjung. “I feel very
lucky that I get to be your brother.”
“Ah, hyung.”
The two brothers hugged from across the table, the smile on Seokjin’s face boyishly unrestrained.
Last but certainly not least, Jia. Definitely a little drunk and not one for speeches, she looked
Seokjin dead in the eye, with only one thing to say. “I’m just so glad I didn’t have to marry you.”
Seokjin scowled. Taehyung couldn’t stop laughing.
They wrapped up the toasts considerably more shit-faced than before, save for Hoseok who’d
secretly dumped all of his shots into a cup on the side. Taehyung’s buzz was wearing off, having
sat out of the last seven rounds of shots. He leaned his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, as full and
happy as can be. Their friends on either side continued chatting amongst themselves, the sound of
their laughter even lovelier than music. Seokjin tipped his head low to whisper into Taehyung’s
hair.
“Call it a night?”
He nodded. “Mm.”
“Your hair smells so nice. What is this?”
“The new shampoo I bought yesterday, remember?”
“Oh right. It’s amazing.” Seokjin took another whiff. “Can’t wait to try it.”
They excused themselves from the table to pay the bill at the front counter, Jimin seizing the
opportunity to leave with them, bathroom bound. A small line had formed in front of the cashier,
the two of them patiently waiting their turn, Taehyung bobbing up and down to an old Fin.K.L.
song. It was nearly their turn when a refreshed Jimin sauntered back from the restroom, sliding up
to the pair and tossing an arm around Seokjin’s shoulder.
“I promiseeee I won’t be hungover tomorrow,” he slurred.
“We’ll make an exception just for you.”
“Because I’m your favorite?” Jimin beamed, knowing full well that this was true. Seokjin
chuckled.
“Of cour—”
“Jimin-ah, look. He’s still got your photo in his wallet.”
With a nudge Taehyung prompted Seokjin to unfold his wallet, sure enough an old polaroid of
Jimin still wedged behind the plastic, colors fading but Jimin’s smile as bright as ever. Seokjin
shook his head, a bit embarrassed. Jimin doubled over in giggles, swaying precariously on his feet.
“Yahhhhh, Kim Seokjin. Change the picture, why don’t you.”
“No!” Taehyung protested. “I told him I love it.”

“You’re both weird,” Seokjin muttered, as he picked out his credit card and handed it to the
cashier.
Just before she handed his card back he leaned forward with a question. “Who controls the music
here?”
She lifted her phone, the device hooked up to the restaurant’s sound system.
“Can you play the song ’24/7 Heaven’?”
The cashier seemed a bit taken aback. Clearly she hadn’t heard of the song before. “Which artist?”
“BTS.”
Never heard of the artist either. Must be rookies. Nevertheless she scrolled through the app and
located the song, adding it to the queue and wrapping up their bill.
Seconds later the Fin.K.L. ballad switched over to a funky beat, then from the far end of the
restaurant, a screech of joy.
Every time they gathered they were always that group, the one that loitered for a needlessly long
time outside of the premises. Hoseok burst through the exit still riding on a high, over the moon to
hear his song in a respectable restaurant in Hongdae. Jungkook seemed equally excited, playing the
part of Hoseok’s hype-man per usual. Ten years had come and gone. Some things would never
change.
Their ruckus blended in with the crowds milling past, Hongdae so lively, so busy that they didn’t
really stick out. Just another group of friends getting dinner on a Friday evening. Taehyung would
remember this for the rest of his life.
Surely this was the best group of friends this world had ever seen, he believed with an unshakable
conviction. How lucky he was, to have met every one of them in this lifetime. He must’ve done
something right in the last.
The temperature dipped in the single digits now. Taehyung tucked his nose behind his scarf,
watched as Seokjung and Jia began bidding their goodbyes, eager to head back to the warmth of
their hotel. He chuckled at Seokjin and Jia’s antics, how one moment they were slapping each
other silly, the next making truce in an amicable embrace.
Jia had moved on from Seokjin, and it was now Seokjung’s turn. The two brothers stood at a
similar height, yet somehow it always seemed that Seokjin was looking up, like his hyung was the
best thing that had ever happened to him. He hoped Seokjin could see it too, the way his hyung
looked back at him. Even from a distance Taehyung could see the love in his eyes. It never
wavered; not then, not now.
His vision was swiftly blocked as Jia tackled him from the side, Taehyung gasping in surprise
before drawing her in for an affectionate squeeze. From the moment the two were introduced to
each other, she had always shown him exceptional kindness. Showed overwhelming support upon
learning he and Seokjin were finally together. At the time they met, she was merely introduced as
Seokjung’s girlfriend. Only later did Taehyung find out that she was the same girl his family set
Seokjin up with.
“I love this red scarf,” Jia cooed. “Good color on you.”
“Thank you. Keeps me warm,” he ran his hands over the fabric. “Really old though. Need to get a
new one.”
“I can knit one for you, you know.”
“Really?” Taehyung exclaimed. “But have you knitted anything for Jin yet?”
“No,” she laughed. “You get first dibs.”
“He’ll be mad, I’m telling you.”
“Isn’t he always mad about something?”

“Hey,” Taehyung was struck by a sudden epiphany. “Tomorrow, Jia. Tomorrow we’re going to be
in-laws.”
“Holy shit, you’re right.” The thought hadn’t occurred to either of them until now. “Family,” she
repeated, the sound of it so pleasing to the ear. “We’re going to be a real family.”
Shortly after he bid said family farewell, Seokjung and Jia backing away into the crowd until they
disappeared from view. Their little group dwindled down to seven.
Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok seemed to be the next batch to depart, the three of them careening
towards Taehyung after making their rounds with the others. A very giddy Hoseok crashed into his
side, Yoongi attacking from behind to wrestle him into a headlock, rubbing a noogie into his hair.
“Your hair smells nice,” he remarked before relinquishing his grip. “Can’t believe you’re going to
be a married man.”
“Our baby is all grown up,” Hoseok gave Taehyung’s cheeks a generous pinch.
“Yah, you punk. Remember how we hated each other in middle school? Remember how much you
pissed me off? Remember that food fight we had? We got into so much trouble,” Yoongi
reminisced. “Look how far we’ve come, eh? Never thought I’d be this happy for you, ever.”
“I won’t hesitate to fight you again.”
“Yeah, but you’d probably let me win.”
He was right. “True.”
“We’re going to head out,” Namjoon announced, visibly exhausted. “Get home safe, okay?”
“You too,” Taehyung murmured into Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon usually wasn’t much of a hugger
but whenever he did, he always gave the best ones. Warm and safe, what home should feel like.
“See you tomorrow!”
“See you tomorrow.”
He watched the three of them stumble off into the distance, Hoseok buzzed on liquor and high on
life, nearly crashing into a pedestrian, Namjoon yanking him back just in time, Yoongi clapping his
hands in glee, thoroughly entertained.
It was quieter now, enough so that he could hear himself breathe. December air in his lungs, breath
curling like smoke into the frigid night air. As the haze slowly lifted he could see Jimin and
Seokjin speaking, engrossed in conversation as if they’d been talking for a while. Jungkook stood
to the side occupied with a phone call, by the sounds of it his mother checking in after a night of
debauchery. “Yes, it was fun. Mm, we drank a lot. No, we won’t be hungover tomorrow. Promise.”
Perhaps feeling Taehyung’s gaze upon him Jungkook turned to meet his eye, offering a smirk and a
wink, Taehyung winking back.
He couldn’t hear what they were saying, their voices low and muted. Jimin seemed especially
serious, gazing upon Seokjin with characteristic intensity, Seokjin listening with tiny nods, warm
smiles. Knowing Jimin in his inebriated state, he was likely pouring out kind words onto Seokjin,
unfiltered and unhindered. As long as the two had been friends, Seokjin was still shy to be on the
receiving end of his love. Mid-conversation and rather absentmindedly, Jimin reached forward to
tuck Seokjin’s hair behind his ear. Seokjin didn’t flinch at the touch like he used to, only the tips of
his ears burning brighter than before. The lights of the storefront glowed honey gold on their skin,
Taehyung regarding them in awe. Wondered if he’d been walking amongst angels this whole time.
And then Jimin was tipping forward, arms wrapping around Seokjin’s back, holding him close.
What Jimin lacked in size he made up for in might, his grip firm and tight, unwavering. Seokjin
stood taller but he somehow made himself small. Closed his eyes and rested his chin upon Jimin’s
shoulder. The two swayed a bit in place before pulling apart with a smile. Jimin lifted a palm to
Seokjin’s cheek, Taehyung imagining the feeling of it and yearning for it too.
He wiggled his way next to them, pressing up to Jimin and bouncing on his heels. “Me too, me too,
please.”
Jimin’s laughter rang sweet like bells. “My baby,” he murmured, sugar sweet. Wove his arms
around Taehyung’s neck, a cloud of orange blossom cloaked delicately over him. In the dead of
winter he smelled like spring. “Aigoo, what am I going to do with you,” he spoke, only loud
enough for Taehyung to hear. Planted a brief peck on Taehyung’s temple, then smoothed back the
hair from his forehead to get a better look at him. For a prolonged moment neither of them spoke,
words failing them both. Jimin’s kind eyes searched his own, eyes filled with emotions neither
could convey. It felt as if the world had paused for them, the universe holding its breath in the
waiting. Eventually Jimin’s lips tugged upwards into a smile, his hand finding Taehyung’s larger
one and giving him a gentle squeeze.
It was then that Jungkook finally wrapped up his phone conversation, ambling over to reunite with
his three friends. “Am I missing out on a love fest here?”
“We were waiting for you.”
“What was he saying to you guys?” Jungkook draped an arm around his boyfriend instead.
“I’ll honestly be surprised if he remembers anything tomorrow morning,” Seokjin laughed. “You
guys better get going.”
“Excuse me? I meant every word.”
“We’ll test you tomorrow,” Taehyung chimed in. “Go home, it’s freezing. Don’t get sick. Take
care of him, okay, Jungkook-ah?”
“I don’t want to go,” Jimin whined.
“Sorry, my love. It’s time to say goodbye.”
“Can we stay a little longer?”
“They’ll always be here. We’ll see them soon enough.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
None of them were very good at goodbyes.
They watched their backsides shrink smaller and smaller, the sea of heads slowly obscuring them
from view. Jimin looked over his shoulder one more time. The last they saw of him was his smile,
and then he was gone.
It was very quiet now. They turned to look at one another.
“You’re tired, my love.”
“I’m okay. You?”
“Let’s keep walking.”
[ ♪ All Of My Life ]
Christmas in Hongdae was the same affair every year. Spindly trees wrapped in lights of every
color. Storefronts blasting carols, buskers singing love songs. They ambled along the pedestrian
street, past the swell of music, the glittering lights. Walked hand in hand, taking their time to soak
it all in. Sat on the steps outside of H&M for a while, listening to a busker and his sad melodies.
Poked around a couple shops selling various trinkets, cell phone cases and bargain jewelry. They
combed through the items, deliberated on buying them before hanging them back on the rack.
Hovered over a display case of tacky couple rings, wiry pieces of metal in plastic boxes. They
picked out a box and each slid a ring onto their finger, the cheap metal resting on top of
Taehyung’s actual band.
“Should we exchange these tomorrow instead?” Seokjin joked, holding his hand out next to
Taehyung’s.
“It’s a bit out of our budget, don’t you think?” Taehyung played along. The metal ring seemed
extra dull next to his actual engagement ring, the white gold catching and refracting every light.
It reminded Taehyung of the first time he saw it. Early morning, somewhere between dreamland
and reality. He could hear Seokjin’s voice, soft and close, a hum against his ear. “Good morning.”
Could feel his nose brushing against his neck, his cheek. Most mornings Seokjin woke up on time.
And even if he woke up late, he’d settle for a wrinkled shirt. He’d skip his skincare routine, he’d
forgo packing his lunch just to do this: wake up with Taehyung.
That particular morning he could feel the trembling in Seokjin’s touch and it worried him, his eyes
fluttering open to blinding light. It took a couple blinks for Taehyung to register what he was
seeing, Seokjin holding something small and precious between his fingers, the object catching the
morning light and refracting it even brighter.
It wasn’t until several months after the proposal that Taehyung discovered why Seokjin asked him
this way. “That weekend, when you left early in the morning, and you left just a note. Why did you
leave the way that you did?”
“I didn’t want to say goodbye.”
“Neither do I. Never again.”
They left the tiny shop without buying anything, Taehyung’s hand finding Seokjin’s and slotting
their fingers together, tucking their interlocked hands in the refuge of his coat pocket.
The crowds thinned out as they began walking home, bright lights dimming to sleepy trees. Both of
them could feel the exhaustion from their day now, bone deep. They’d walked this path many
times before, through hardship and sorrow, in joy and gladness. As long as they could walk it
together.
Soon the music faded to pin-drop silence, nothing but the sound of the occasional car rushing past,
the clacking of their heels on concrete.
It was as they neared the old bus station that Taehyung noticed it. Very light, light as feathers.
Looked up to see them illuminated under the streetlamp, glowing orange.
“Jin, look.”
“Mm?”
“Look up.” He pointed towards the sky.
The snow fluttered down shy at first, tentative, as if tiptoeing into the world. Then quickly it
became more sure of itself, soon a steady flurry descending upon the city, thick flakes landing on
their shoulders, resting in Seokjin’s eyelashes. Taehyung brushed them away, Seokjin blinking in
disbelief.
“Finally,” Seokjin mumbled. “Feels late this year, doesn’t it?”
“Timing is perfect, I think.”
They paused to take shelter beneath the awning of the bus stop. Not a single soul in sight, no one
but them. Seokjin let out a sigh as he pulled Taehyung close, arms enveloping him to keep him
warm.
They rocked back and forth, watching the snow come down, blanketing the earth. In the last three
years they’d done a lot of this: holding one another in silence, sacred. “I love you so much,” he
heard Seokjin whisper in his ear. “Love you more,” Taehyung answered, meaning it in full. He
could feel Seokjin protest with a shake of the head, squeezing him a bit tighter as if to prove his
point.
Around them the snow continued to fall. Like a celebration of sorts, the universe wishing them
well.
Taehyung startled when he felt something warm land upon his cheek.
Seokjin was crying.
His cheeks were stained wet with tears, many more spilling forth, Seokjin trying his best to press
them down. Taehyung reached up to wipe them away, frantic. “Why? What’s wrong?”
There was a time when Seokjin made a bed out of sorrow, so long ago that it felt like another
lifetime. Since then they’d shared many happy days, stupidly happy. The sudden sight of tears
perplexed him, Taehyung lost as to where they were coming from. Seokjin opened his mouth to
speak, struggling to find the right words, fresh tears welling over as he looked down at Taehyung.
“All this time,” Seokjin managed, and somehow Taehyung understood.
He smiled. Tilted his head up, their lips meeting in the cold. A kiss warm and soft, just like
Seokjin. He felt Seokjin breathe into him, a sigh of joy, of relief.
All this time – Taehyung smiled into the kiss – and for all of my life.
---
Fin.
---
Closure on both minor/main characters:
-Yes, the Nayoung on the bus is the same Nayoung that Seokjin worked with at his father’s
company. No, Nayoung and Seokjin don’t keep in touch. I know this is depressing since they
seemed to have a great bond at work, but I want to provide a realistic depiction of how work
friendships oftentimes play out…aka fizzling out to nothing. Nayoung has since quit her job to
become a full-time mother and she loves it.
-Hyungsik and Eunwoo get married. They date for 3-4 years before tying the knot. Eventually,
many years down the line, they adopt a kid. They’re very happy together.
-Obviously Jia and Seokjung get married as well. They remained good friends for quite a while
before Jia got impatient and made the first move (Seokjungie is shyyy). Their wedding was a
pretty awkward affair considering the previous arrangement between these two families. Jia’s
parents eventually warm to Seokjung, but Seokjung’s side merely acknowledges it. The two end up
moving to Busan since Jia’s family already has property there and they live a pretty low-key, happy
life with their cats + Changmin and his family just a stone’s throw away. Seokjung eventually
transitions into tech and starts working as a software engineer. Jia’s still in the same line of work, I
honestly can’t remember if I explicitly said which industry she’s in. The two intend to be childfree.
-Namjoon and Daisy eventually break up due to the strain of long distance. It takes him
considerable time to recover but he ultimately channels his energy into law school instead. Since
enrolling in school his time is quite limited, and with the little freedom he does have, he chooses to
spend it with close friends and family. It’s hard to say whether he’s happy or not; he’s going
through the motions and trying his best. He really wants to date again; he misses being in a
committed relationship. Sometimes he questions if law school was the right move.
-Hoseok continues to work hard towards his dreams of becoming a producer. Thanks to his recent
promotion he’s able to support his family financially, lifting a huge burden off of his parents.
Nevertheless his parents encourage him to focus on his own growth and start a family of his own.
Hoseok has no intention of doing so. He likes to party, prefers floating from one fling to another.
-After Yoongi returns from his Japan trip, he takes some time to recuperate before applying to jobs.
Finds a pretty cushy office gig and sticks to it. Yoongi is much the same as before; he works to
live. Makes the most of his weekends, goes on frequent vacations every year. He often forgets to
keep in touch with his friends, so the others have to proactively reach out to him. He’s a terrible
text-er but undoubtedly the go-to guy for heart to hearts. He and Hoseok are still besties. He’s close
to Seokjin too, they’re drinking buddies. He’s still a little scared of Jimin and Jungkook.
-Jimin and Jungkook are still dating albeit very private about it. Only their close friends know the
true nature of their relationship. To most others they simply look like best friends/roommates.
Jungkook wants to go public but Jimin isn’t quite ready. They’re still living in the same apartment
and although they could definitely use an upgrade, they’re too lazy to move. Jimin loves being
funemployed and has momentarily blocked out the future; it makes him anxious to think about it.
Jungkook continues to excel at work despite his lackadaisical attitude towards it. He is Jimin’s
pillar of strength and sanity.
-Taehyung continues to maintain happy, healthy relationships with his family/friends. He’s lost
touch with a lot of university acquaintances and his friend group is noticeably smaller than before.
It’s something he wrestles with before he finally comes to appreciate quality over quantity. He and
Hyungsik never speak to each other again. He knows through social media rumblings that
Hyungsik has settled down with someone new, just doesn’t know who it is. Taehyung is much
more settled, steady than before. He doesn’t recognize his younger self and laughs when he thinks
about how wild he used to be. He still dreams of traveling in Europe though, namely Paris. Seokjin
is secretly saving up money to make this dream into a reality.
-Seokjin never makes amends with his parents. He loses contact with his father entirely. No one in
the family is sure of what he’s up to in Hong Kong. He gives up on repairing his relationship with
his mother once he realizes that the scars she burned on him run deeper than skin. Only decades
later will they touch base, and it’ll be more-so out of necessity. He’ll always keep her at a distance
and provide support from afar. Seokjin embarks on a journey of healing through extensive talk
therapy and open/honest conversations with good friends. Taehyung’s parents play a big part in his
mental and emotional wellbeing. The only family he keeps in touch with is Seokjung + Changmin
and his parents. Instead of harboring hatred and regret towards his younger self, he learns to show
empathy towards that version of who he used to be.
Chapter End Notes
The reason I was so determined to release this epilogue on THIS specific weekend is
because the story perfectly aligns with real time. It’s happened once or twice before
with this story...I think Limbo came out right around Valentine’s Day? Just a fun
coincidence.
The epilogue was purposely written in Taehyung’s perspective because for the bulk of
this story you’ve been in Seokjin’s head, and for a long time this precious boy didn’t
realize how loved he was by those surrounding him. I want you as the reader to
understand how others in his life see him, particularly from the perspective of the
person who loves him the most.
I started writing AOML in 2018, and now it’s almost 2022. Crazy how time flies, how
the last couple years have blended together into mush. For those of you that have kept
up throughout this process, thank you from the bottom of my stilted heart for having
faith in this story, for encouraging me along the way. I really needed it.
I completed the first draft of the entire story in August 2019. That in itself was a feat I
couldn’t have done without my 3 beta readers: Daisy, Celeste, and Boda. Daisy was
the one who encouraged me to keep writing when I got stuck around Limbo/part 2 and
wanted to throw the story away. Celeste was the one who encouraged me to finish
writing when I continued to question myself. And admittedly I was terrified to actually
share the story with you all, but Boda was the one who gave me the push to upload
chapter 1. Big thanks to these 3.
The first draft of this completed fic was very short…barely 100K, if I remember
correctly. Hence why the beginning of the story is not as detailed as the later chapters.
It wasn’t until towards the end of uploading part 2 that I realized I wanted to flesh out
the plot much more. I’d say 70-80% of everything after Limbo is newly written
material. Also how we ended up here, at almost 300K.
TW // depression
Throughout this years-long process I’ve grown. A lot. To the point where I no longer
recognize who I used to be. I think this change is subtly reflected in my writing over
time, and I’m curious to go back and read from the beginning, to see this for myself.
For what felt like eternity I stayed in a very dark place, no light. Destroyed not only
myself but everyone around me. The loved ones who stuck by my side when they had
every right to leave: I owe them my life, no exaggeration. I think some readers have
this misconception that because I can write a character as loving as AOML Jimin that I
too, must be that kind of person. I’m not. Far from it. I poured all the love and grace
I’ve received from my friends into Jimin. Sprinkled whatever life lessons I’d learned
somewhere in between.
My situation is not unique. There are a lot of sad people in this world, those that are
barely hanging on, going through the motions. I hope if you’ve gone through the same
struggles as these characters that you feel a little less alone after reading AOML. If
you haven’t heard it today, you’re doing well. Keep going. :)
Something that Namjoon said this year really resonates with me: “not bad and not
good, just alive.” At face value this mentality might seem a bit depressing, but to me
it’s actually incredibly liberating. I feel like society is constantly pushing toxic
positivity upon us. “You can only go up from here.” “Don’t worry, be happy.” It’s
fucking exhausting to live that way, isn’t it? There’s something freeing about letting
yourself fall, of feeling sadness in full.
My depression prolonged for about a decade, and in the thick of it I would always
think to myself: will I ever feel happiness again? The answer I’ve learned is yes, you’ll
be happy again someday. You’ll also be sad again too. That’s okay. Not a good life,
not a bad life. Just a life.
Even though I’m in a better place, I never say I am happy now – because happiness is
fleeting, not a state of being. I used to wake up in the morning and think “Life is
meaningless.” Nowadays it’s not like I wake up thinking “Everything is awesome.”
Instead I’m waking up and thinking, “How do I want to make my coffee.”
“You don’t have to be hopeful about the future. It’s enough to be curious about what’s
coming.”
My sincere gratitude again to everyone who’s taken the time to read this whopper
of a fic. Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, I’ll always
respond (eventually). Also curious to hear which scenes stood out to you, whether
it’s in this chapter alone or the entirety of this story.
Not sure if I’ll write more fics moving forward! I’ll play it by ear. Feel free to also
let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see from me, whether it’s a Taejin
fic, a fic for another ship, an AOML spin-off, anything.
<3 Haze
End Notes
Twitter: @taejindreams
Playlist: ♪
Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!

All of My Life

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All Of My Life

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/20759912.

[NO TRANSLATIONS AND/OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ALLOWED - AO3 does

NO TRANSLATIONS AND/OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ALLOWED - AO3 does

PLEASE READ: INCLUDES T/W AND DISCLAIMERS

Please also pay attention to the following trigger warnings:

-Mental health (depression/anxiety/panic attacks/self loathing)

Some more important disclaimers to keep in mind:

See the end of the work for more notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

❀ I. LIKE A ROSE WHEN IN BLOOM

It wasn’t easy to make friends.

It doesn’t really matter where I go to school, anyway.

“Don’t get me started-”

“Should we just make a run for it, or…”

“Of course, same class-”

Seokjin actually burst out laughing.

“We should do this more often.”

Chapter End Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“In a weird way, I can see that.”

“Really?” Seokjin implored, eyes widening. “Why’s that?”

“Food. Fucking food.”

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

“Like really handsome.”

“I get it, please stop.”

“It’s a shame we go to an all boys’ school.”

“Who did that.”

“It was me.”

“It was me.”

“I did,” the seven of them proclaimed in unison.

Seokjin was laughing.

The bell began to ring, cutting the boy off mid-sentence.

“A lone wolf,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Hey,” Taehyung spoke, a sense of hesitation in his voice.

“Why did you stand up for me today?” He asked.

“Quite an extreme measure to skip school.”

“That’s how much I’m losing my mind.”

“You ready for the exam on Friday?” Seokjin asked.

Chapter End Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

At last there was something new, something different in his routine.

“The soccer field.”

“That’s it? What’s so great about it?”

“None of your business.”

So much for peace and quiet.

“Roses. Only white ones, because it’s White Day.”

“Like a bouquet or what?”

“Just single stems. We can’t afford to sell bouquets.”

“How does this work, usually?”

“Okay, you said most. What about the others?”

“We get anonymous requests within the school, yes.”

“Jimin. Park Jimin, first year…”

“How much for one?”

“Oh right, it’s White Day,” Namjoon mumbled.

Can we be friends at least?

I don’t know you, but I like you.

“How many did you get again?” Namjoon asked.

“Did you send all of these then?”