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It was past midnight in the city. In a place like this, there was no set sleeping hour. It was hustle and bustle with cars and nightclubbers and everything and everyone in between.
Jungkook, too, did not sleep. He was the Silver Bullet, after all, the local hero who could outrun and outlast any enemy, the fastest person in South Korea with incredible athleticism. The news talked about him often and he trended worldwide daily on social media. The citizens oohed and aahed him anytime they spotted him. He was internationally famous, too, his tales of heroism reaching even the United States.
He hated it.
The pressure and responsibility ate at his soul, and his failures crippled him. He, like many people now, had a romanticized view of being a hero when he first discovered his powers; glory and strength.
Nowadays, away from sensationalized media, it became, you saved the most popular star in Korea, but you helped cause all this damage even though it was the enemy’s fault, or you had the decision of saving a family member or a bus full of children and you chose your family.
You could have a normal, unassuming life, finishing up your engineering degree and graduating, but now you keep missing classes, tests, and labs. You must pay for having all the strength you have ever wanted.
But this was his career and his responsibility. How many people can save Seoul, all of South Korea, even, from danger only super-powered humans could handle?
It was unfortunate.
“Where are we going now, Jungkook-ah?”
In addition to all that, he gained an annoying fanboy as his sidekick; a clingy chatterbox, two years old than him, who probably had at least two thousand bowls of rice and days of life experience on him. Park Jimin, also known as the fire manipulator called Cobalt Wildfire, chose to glue himself to Silver Bullet’s side, abandoning his stable office job. He was well-known, too, but nowhere near as much as Jungkook.
“Jungkook?”
Jungkook returned to reality, remembering that they were currently in a secret passage way under Itaewon. They had just defeated another super-powered criminal and defused a bomb, thus saving the city. Again.
“Home.”
The wider his strides were, the faster the shorter Jimin scurried to catch up. He was all business, and while Jungkook appreciated his focus, he was just not in the mood. He wanted to sleep. Glory and strength never gave him enough.
“But the keycard we found on that guy. We have to get to Bang Corporation and—”
“There’s no hurry, Cobalt,” Jungkook replied, annoyed, and walked even faster down the tunnel. He could be crueler and use his own powers to force Jimin far behind. He got lost easily and could end up wandering for days.
But why would you want to do that? he asked himself, the small pang in his chest giving him pause.
And why did it matter?
It had been only a year since Jimin started following him around. Jimin had powers of his own and be a superhero by himself; it wasn’t like Jungkook had to accept him.
And so what if Jimin did get over his giddy, obsessive fanboy stage, doting on Jungkook and treating him like a normal dongsaeng instead of the Silver Bullet? So what if Jimin always smiled at him with bright encouragement and gratitude despite their toughest of adventures? And so what if he always provided him with meals when Jungkook went through the day without food despite being paid much more than Jimin by the government?
“Of course there’s hurry,” Jimin sighed, somehow able to catch up to Jungkook with barely any effort. “Jungkook, we can’t let our problems get outside of Seoul. You know this. We have to deal with it before it spreads.”
“I know,” Jungkook snapped. “I fucking know, Jimin. I know everything, okay? Just give me a moment, okay? One damn moment where I don’t know anything and I could be fucking normal!”
Jungkook realized too late how explosive his outburst was. A tantrum, really. And to think, he always thought he matured early because of his powers.
He heard Jimin’s faster, lighter footsteps slow to a stop behind him.
The Silver Bullet stopped as well, and turned around to scold Jimin because he did not want to stick around in the tunnels longer than necessary.
What he found was a glassy-eyed superhero staring at him with puppy eyes, wide and soft enough to make Jungkook feel like the worst person in the world.
“Jimin… hyung,” Jungkook said carefully. He did not use the honorific often.
“What?” His voice was oddly soft. Jungkook couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry. Maybe he was both.
Apologize.
“Let’s go, okay?” Jungkook said instead, suddenly afraid of showing him any sort of humility. Too much damn pride. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“No, Jungkook, just go ahead,” Jimin told him, shooing him away. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I’ll be fine. I know you want to be alone.”
He didn’t sound fine at all. Jungkook pursed his lips together for a moment. He had made Jimin upset before. But Jimin had always just sidestepped his anger, melting it away with his radiating warmth. He used to bounce back.
Or was Jungkook that dumb, thinking Jimin would always forgive him?
“You’ll get lost.”
“No, I won’t—”
“You always get lost when we do this.” It was one thing for Jimin to be upset at him, but another to not have common sense.
This is stupid, Jungkook thought. He seriously thought about letting Jimin be; he didn’t want to dawdle in the tunnels, not moving, waiting for his mood to wane enough so he would listen to him.
“I don’t want to be such a burden to you,” Jimin said with a trace of rare bitterness.
The statement sparked anger in Jungkook. “Coba–hyung, what are you even saying? You were the one obsessed with me from Day One. You were the one who claimed himself my official sidekick. You were the one who thought I even needed you.”
And I don’t, he almost added as he stared Jimin down; as he watched his already tiny form seem to get smaller and smaller with his shame.
But now Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had hurt him enough. It was clear on Jimin’s face, and in the way his shoulder sagged. Jimin no longer looked at him; his face was concentrated on his feet.
“Then don’t let me keep you,” Jimin spoke up in a thin voice. Jungkook didn’t know how to interpret it. It sounded unfamiliar and uncomforting, the tone digging into his heart like a heavy shovel. “Have a good night, Jungkook.”
Don’t leave him.
Jungkook stepped back. He did not stop watching Jimin, however. He kept his eyes glued to his fellow hero; waiting for a response, waiting for the saccharine coaxing he heard all-too often when they argued. Jimin’s bounce-back.
But Jimin didn’t seem to be having it tonight. He was waiting for something, too, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes guarded as he stared at the ground.
Don’t leave him.
Why on Earth would Jungkook just leave him in the maze of tunnels? Why would he question it? Jimin was a pain, but in one year, he has known him well enough to value him.
His lips pressed to a thin line, Jungkook dashed forward and wrapped a harsh hand around Jimin’s wrist.
“What are—”
“We’re going home,” Jungkook said hastily. “Whatever the thing is with the keycard—we’ll deal with tomorrow. We need rest.”
He tried not to wonder what Jimin’s silence meant. But at least his sidekick let himself be dragged along as Jungkook marched them down the tunnels.
That was something, right?
Jimin often woke him up in the morning.
Jungkook would groggily open his eyes to strong, rapid knocking and endless calls and texts.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin usually called through the door of the studio apartment, with urgency that was often laced with affection. “Being a superhero is a full-time job. Don’t you remember?”
“Let the police handle it,” Jungkook used to reply, and it took Jimin all the strength of his lithe little body to drag him out.
But it was 1PM when he woke up this time, with only one text message from Jimin waiting for him—sent at 8:30 this morning:
Jungkook, I can handle it. Please take the day off—you need rest.
Handle what?
Jungkook racked his mind for any possible plans he could have. Jimin usually had better memory.
What are you talking about? he texted back, and set his phone on his bedside table as he rolled out of bed.
And as soon as his bare feet hit hardwood floor, his eyes widened.
The keycard.
His heart jumping into his throat, Jungkook rushed to put on sweatpants, a hoodie, and running shoes before speeding out his door.
Bang Corporation was a rectangular, eight-story office building at the edge of town, surrounded by small local businesses, a college campus, and student housing. Because of all that was around it, it looked inconspicuous to the normal person.
Jungkook remembered this much as he used his powers to race across the city, and it took even less time than he thought, because something else made everything within his chest grow cold in horror as he sprinted even faster to his destination.
Blue-colored flames licked at the side of the building, which looked like it had been blown out by an explosion. Debris—pieces of concrete, dirt, pieces of furniture—were strewn everywhere. Police, paramedics, and the fire department were already on the scene with bystanders and innocent workers, but Jungkook paid them no heed as he rushed past them into the ruined grounds.
Blue fire meant Cobalt Wildfire. It was the only possibility. His power was in his superhero name, after all.
Jungkook slipped into the building carefully through a blown hole that led him into what used to be a large office space. It was cobalt-hued, with dotted instances of flames that dimly lit his way. He didn’t know what happened to cause all this, exactly, but that didn’t matter to him at the moment.
“Jimin?!” he shouted, vaguely recognizing his own voice. He had never sounded this panicked or shaky before. “Jiminnie-hyung?!”
I can handle it.
That idiot. He couldn’t. Not alone. Neither of them could do any of this alone. Jimin wasn’t his sidekick; they were made to be partners, and Jungkook had dismissed him so easily, after Jimin had done and put up with so much.
“Jiminnie-hyung!” He peered at every instance of space, every corner, for any sign of him. “Hyung, where are you?!”
Jungkook found another hole in the wall similar to the first, the edges scorched black by fire. He walked through, and found himself inside the lobby; again, illuminated by Jimin’s blue flames.
Immediately, he spotted a slumped figure against the far wall, in a teal leather jacket. He looked physically intact except for the gaping wound on his thigh, blood mottled on the skin around it, exposed by the wide tear in his black jeans.
Fear jolted him into a run. In seconds, he was kneeling in front of him.
“Jiminnie-hyung?”
No answer. Jungkook felt his body tremble with a dread he has never known, and steadied himself by laying both his hands against Jimin’s arms. “Hyung?”
There was a small hiss of breath, and finally—finally—Jungkook saw his head shift, lifting until it was upright and facing forward.
“Jungkookie,” he breathed. There was surprise in his voice. Why was there surprise? Did he not expect Jungkook to come to him? Did he expect him to not care and leave him to risk his life like this?
“You look so scared,” Jimin continued, his lips weakly pulling into a smile. “Do I look that bad? I thought I was going to look more heroic defeating the—”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispered, feeling himself tear to pieces because he caused this. “Hyung, I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. I do need you. I need you more than anyone. I can’t be a hero without you. You didn’t have to do this for me. Jiminnie-hyu—”
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin chuckled, wiping away a stray tear on Jungkook’s face before laying a hand against it. “Do you think I’m going to die? I’m fine. I promise.”
Jungkook stared at him, eyes tracing over the angles of his face, the reassuring smile, the dirt on his nose and cheeks. There was a twinkle in his eyes that showed honesty, full of the fiery light he never thought he needed until now.
Jungkook lifted his hands, placing them gently against either side of Jimin’s face. It has been so long since he touched another human being with any fondness. He was sure his shock mirrored Jimin’s, whose eyes widened at him with puzzlement.
But after a pause, Jungkook closed his eyes and let out a heavy, cathartic sigh as he pressed his forehead against Jimin’s.
The relief rushing into his heart was overwhelming and new, but he knew instantly how real the emotion was. It was meant to be kept safe and cherished. Jimin was important to him; so, so important. He made everything bearable.
Near them, he heard something heavy fall, making the building groan under the loss of support. It was time to go.
Come on, hyung,” Jungkook muttered urgently. He lifted Jimin gently into his arms, bridal-style.
“My hero,” Jimin joked as he hooked both arms around Jungkook’s neck. He looked up at him, his smile shining through the haze of smoke around them.
Jungkook let himself smile back. Then he tightened his hold around his partner and sped out of the collapsing building by the way he came in.
You’re mine, too.