Chapter Text
chance
[chans, chahns]
"the absence of any cause of events that can be predicted,
understood, or controlled: often personified
or treated as a positive agency"
-➶-
Yoongi never once considered himself to be an innate nature lover, a tree hugger, or any of the above. In fact, he was a self-proclaimed house hermit, and his thumb was about as green as a basketball.
But now, he had a guest, the most beautiful guest he’s ever seen in his twenty-four years of life—a bright boy, who literally sparkles, glows, and highlights, and vines wrapping around his ankles dawned in Yoongi’s basketball shorts with little flecks of gold around his eyes and leaves growing out of his wrists—and Yoongi, quite simply is in shock.
He remembers clearly when it happened, when he found him—which shouldn’t be hard because honestly it was only two hours ago.
➶
Yoongi was walking thoughtlessly through the warm drizzle of light rain through the park in the heart of the city he lived in. His apartment was a few blocks down from there, so he often just sat down in this park, chilling out and trying to find inspiration for lyrics, whether sappy or sad.
There was a path near the woodsy area that Yoongi never particularly ventured in, but always saw other people explore. Out of curiosity, boredom, and lack of inspiration—and a notebook—he gets up off the barely wet bench and strolls his way into the path. Entering felt like a portal to another universe! The rest of the park was so clear and barren almost, but suddenly there’s this collection of bushes and berries and trees and birds and it just looks so... out of place. In a unique way, and it’s kind of nice, aesthetically. It puts some pizazz where no one knew they needed it.
Yoongi looks up past the leaves of the trees, seeing a rainbow peeking through. This place seemed like a wonderland, a perfect place for writing lyrics—though he could do without the woodpeckers and beetles crawling around. Suddenly, Yoongi slows his tracks, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, disregarding his phone in his back pocket. The stones under his feet suddenly felt odd and slippery; he thought he was alone here and he wasn’t.
The figures were tall and tanned with a glow that fit their whole bodies like a halo. They looked like art, wearing their old outdated classic oriental robes with the designs of flowers and the look of pure silk. Yoongi felt suffocated like he was in a wild jungle, and he’s grounded to his spot because suddenly, this place just got a million percent more interesting—and not just for the nature aesthetics.
He barely has time to react when one of the figures heads snaps up and makes eye contact with him before beaming and waving. “Hey! Hi!” He grins, cheerily, waving rampantly, nearly smacking another who’s trying to figure out who the fuck he’s talking to.
Yoongi thinks that now was the time to make a run for it, to get to booking, but he doesn’t, because they look harmless and pretty, sitting on logs around one of the many man-made lakes in this huge park. Yoongi doesn’t even realize that he’s walking forward to possibly introduce himself—probably not—and ask the burning questions he’s had ever since six milliseconds ago.
Why the fuck are they alone here and why the fuck are they dressed like that?
Two of them somehow manage to run over the jagged rocks barefooted with barely a scratch and politely greet Yoongi, who flinches in surprise and steps back, annoyed. “Uh, hi.”
“See?” The boy in red with pink flowers nudges the boy in white with white flowers. “I told you he’d be uncomfortable; humans don’t get our customs,” he mutters worriedly.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The ones in white properly acknowledges Yoongi, who’s still confused as hell about these weird, forest dwelling people. “My name’s Hoseok, and I think you belong with me.”
“Sorry about him, he’s just excited to have finally found his—” he taps Yoongi’s shoulder, to be met with Yoongi’s appalled face, “partner.”
“You forgot to introduce yourself,” Hoseok tuts. “Pardon his rudeness.”
Yoongi didn’t even get a breath to pardon it because red boy was talking again!
“I’m Yugyeom.” He giggles, giddy; like a small child. “The rest are over there, by the pond! We should totally let you meet them.”
“Wait, wait. Hold up. What’s this talk about partners? I’ve never seen you people a day in my life but you sound like you’re about to sell me off into an arranged marriage.” Yoongi rebuttals. “And by the way, why the hell are you people out here?”
“What do you mean? This is our home.” Hoseok answers like it’s so obvious.
Yoongi nods slowly, “So, you’re homeless?”
Yugyeom throws his head back and laughs at this, “What? No, silly! How are we homeless when this is our home?” He quips. Yoongi wasn't liking the higher-than-thou air that this one seemed to give off.
“I guess it’s about time we tell him who we are—” Hoseok runs a hand through his jet black hair.
The other one cuts in, “Yeah, he’s the first to even notice us after all these decades—”
“Guys!” A skinny one of the boys with white hair is bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving them over. “What’re you doing?” He shouts. “Gyeommie!”
Hoseok grins at this display—like full on cheesing—and his shoulders shake from the pitchy, explosive laugh that rumbles up his throat. “That’s Bambam, Yugyeom’s partner. See? Totally normal. Everybody has one, except me, but hopefully we can become real partners. I mean, they don’t call me Hope for nothing!” It was cute, no lie, but it still didn’t make a lick of sense.
Out of all the things Yoongi could’ve said to escape the situation, he just doesn’t, and instead does the exact opposite, digging his own pretty little flowery grave. “You didn’t say your name was Hope.”
Hoseok grabs hold on Yoongi’s hand, slightly biting on his lip, answering, “It’s one of my names.” And right then, as Yoongi allows himself to be dragged by the two to meet their other friends, he realizes they have some type of mental hold over him, and they’re most definitely not humans with leafy stems growing outta their ankles and sparkles lining their eyes.
➶
Through the woodsy path he is taken to see the other kingpins of this forest, looking pretty and dainty, which is becoming a usual way for Yoongi to describe everything in here. He doesn’t know how to feel about that one. The nature in this park was a contradiction, and so were the strange guys in it; they were all soft-looking in the face and persona, but they were agile and energetic and toned.
The white-haired one—Bambam—is sitting on a log with both legs on each side, basically straddling it, as he excitedly calls for his apparent partner.
“Bam, look what we’ve found,” Yugyeom states proudly, gesturing at Yoongi.
“Woah—” Bambam rushes up to examine the new guy. Yoongi’s still confused. “Where’d you find him? Who is he?” Bambam turns to actually address Yoongi for the first time, gratingly rolling up his jacket sleeves and examining his wrists. “Who are you? You’re different; you’re... human.”
Then again, maybe they were just extremely dedicated cosplayers.
“Hell yeah I’m human. What are you?” Yoongi bites back, a bit snappier than he needed to be. These people, or whatever they thought they were, were really working his last nerve.
Bambam’s skin glistens with what could be mistaken as a deep shade of golden dust, with the same mark as Yugyeom underneath his eye. He has two horizontal deep sky blue lines underneath his left eye, like the paint American football players wear on their face, but prettier. It didn't look like a layer of crusted, dried paint though. It looked... real. Almost like a birthmark. A tattoo set deep into the skin.
So if he and Hoseok were so-called partners, where the heck was Yoongi’s mark then?
“You didn’t tell him?”
A taller, tanner man pops up behind Bambam, with a cute baby face and buff arms like a bodybuilder. “Hope...” he narrows his eyes, “is this the reason you ran off? Is this your partner?” His skin was also bronzed and shimmered brightly, almost blindingly, and it was almost annoying and disgusting how crazily amazing everyone looked.
“I would appreciate if all of you could just not. Stop whatever shit this is, it’s not funny.” Yoongi shakes their hands off of him, ignoring the bright, in-your-face trail of an orange stripe running along the tall guy’s clavicles and dipping down into his chest before disappearing under the fabric.
“I’m not trying to be funny,” Hoseok pulls an affronted expression. “Shownu-hyung, where’s Minhyuk?” He looks at the taller man.
He turns and points aimlessly, shrugging—which makes one end of his robe slip off his shoulders, exposing all of the orange strips running across his left side and splitting into two roadways leading to his chest and left arm— “Somewhere over there, probably with his tree. He loves his tree.” He says it as a fact, a definitive statement. It probably is, Yoongi assumes, not understanding how someone can own a tree.
“He loves it more than us!” Yugyeom pouts. “It’s kind of sad, really. Like he never hangs out with us,” Yugyeom bemoans, “Or me! I think it’s just me because I see him hanging out with Bambam and Hope all the time!”
“Don’t drag me into your mess! Your emotional turmoil is not my problem.” Bambam digressed.
“Damn it! Even Bam’s not on my side!” Yugyeom vociferates, and Yoongi wonders if they’re acknowledging his existence at this point. With how dramatic they are, he could probably slip away unnoticed.
Hoseok, however, looks at him and gives a bashful smile, letting go of Yoongi’s wrist. He was holding onto it for quite some time now, and with the wacky antics happening in front of him, Yoongi was quick to forget about it completely until he didn’t feel the fingers around his arm like a bracelet. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and Yoongi actually looks confused. There are some things he should be slightly sorry for一like abducting Yoongi, sorta一but it really wasn’t that serious. Like, Hope’s whole mood just changed. “I didn’t ask, I just snatched your hand and dragged you out here... I’m sorry.”
Yoongi nods wordlessly before exhaling. “It’s fine. It didn’t hurt me or anything.”
“So.” Hoseok smiles widely. “Can I hold your hand?”
Yoongi almost snorts at the childish request, shrugging and extending his hand to the harmless… plant boy. Hoseok took it graciously. “I think一I wanna get to know you better. I wanna know everything about you! Your favorite flower, your favorite song, favorite poem一anything! Before we become real partners, we have to be bonded as best friends.”
“Ew, friendship, bonding.” Yoongi jokes absentmindedly, forgetting who he's dealing with.
Hoseok’s face fell. “What? Do you not want to be friends with me? Sorry if I’m kind of annoying, but being here with these guys alone in the same place for years on end gets a bit predictable.”
“What an unflattering way of saying you want to explore me.”
“Yes! I want to explore. With you!” Hoseok nearly shouts, tugging on Yoongi’s sleeves now. “Take me to where you’re from. Where do you live?”
“In a janky apartment a few blocks from here.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Hoseok chuckled dumbly, “but I like it.”
“Ah, Hoseok, you can’t go all head-over-heels mode yet. There’s a lot you’ve got to teach him.” A brunet said, with tiny flower petals in his brown locks. Through the deeply cut V in his clothes, Yoongi could see the matching orange streaks that paralleled Shownu, or Hyunwoo, as he was also called. “Lee Minhyuk,” he outstretches a pale, shimmering hand with a warm smile on his face.
Yoongi shook hands with him, and from then, found himself infatuated with this hidden place.