Archive of Our Own

“(...) You will meet again, perhaps in another lifetime. The connection is unbreakable, lying dormant in your subconscious.”

― Chelsie Shakespeare, The Pull

PROLOGUE

01:46am

The quality of the record isn’t the best. The sound of the piano is scratchy and distorted by the weird echo in Jungkook’s cheap earbuds that never do the music justice. But after tiresome searching, this was the only version he was able to find.

With his back lying on his bed, Jungkook stares blankly at the lights of the cars moving lazily on the ceiling. He lets the music surround him, filling him up with the familiarity of hundred and hundreds of replays. He closes his eyes, shutting the room out, as the piece approaches its end, its tenderness fading and replaced by distinct hits on piano keys as it approaches a climax.

In his mind, Jungkook catches glimpses of hands with slender fingers, of bruised knuckles, of a maze of veins under soft skin. Hands pressing on piano keys. Crushing a cigarette butt. Skimming through the pages of a book. Curling around his hipbones.

And a feeling of emptiness, painfully sharp in contrast to the fuzziness of distant memories, clutches Jungkook’s chest until it’s hard to breath.

A plateau. Music vanishing into silence. Images melting away into nothingness.

Jungkook rewinds to the beginning.

Hits play again.

“The first time Jungkook sees Yoongi” isn’t the right way to begin. Their first meeting is long gone, buried under hundreds, thousands of others, lost among years and centuries that passed and continue passing from that fateful day. Every time they’ve met, even if it seems like the first, is just a repetition - the recurrence of a similar pattern set in different ages and other times.

Two strangers whose souls know each other, even when they don’t.

Except, somehow, Jungkook is starting to remember.  

He’s left with senseless glimpses of shattered memories, struggling to piece them back together. But no matter how hard he tries, they’re never anything more than a kaleidoscope of blurry images, all tangled up with no defined beginning or ending. And all of them - every single memory - of hands ruffling his hair, dark eyes looking at him with fondness, every note of laughter that Jungkook remembers, is lined with a feeling of overwhelming, heart-crushing longing.

There’s one constant in the ever-changing flow of time; Yoongi never remembers Jungkook.

No matter how many times they’ve met, how many different names they’ve had or what relationships they’ve built - Yoongi never knows, is never meant to know. And so he learns about Jungkook from the very beginning every time their paths cross again. And again.

And again.

February 15th

Jungkook's finger traces the backs of the books standing closely next to each other on the shelf. ML441, ML442, ML443, the call numbers read. He walks through a narrow row, the bookshelves high enough to make him feel as if he could disappear among them. ML444, ML445, and the feeling of dusty leather covers under his fingertips. ML446, ML447, ML449.

Jungkook stops. Bends down to take a better look at the books' spines. The book he's been looking for, ML448, is nowhere to be seen. He looks at the shelf again, thinking that maybe someone replaced it. But no. He checks the cart standing in front of the row for the books waiting for filing. Nothing there either.

Jungkook peeks in the main hall. This early in the morning, the small library is deserted, all the desks usually filled with stacks of books, loose papers and scattered pens are empty now. Jungkook checks one final time to make sure the book is really missing, and then heads to the circulation desks on the other side of the room. In the silence around him, his footsteps sound uncomfortably loud and if he focuses enough, he could probably hear his own breathing.

At first he doesn't see anybody. It’s only when he comes closer that he notices someone sitting there. Except "sitting" doesn't seem to be the proper word to describe the man sprawled out on a chair with his arms crossed over his chest, his legs resting on desk and an opened book covering his face to complete the picture. Jungkook's able to see his chest moving up and down with calm, deep breaths and realizes that he’s sleeping.

He doesn't know what to do so he clears his throat experimentally to see what happens. Nothing. The man doesn't move an inch. Jungkook grows more and more unsure.

"Excuse me?" he says, shyly. "Uh... I just wanted to ask about something."

There's progress - a muffled, unintelligible grumble escapes from under the book.

"I'm sorry, what?"

The man finally removes his feet from the desk to place them on the floor instead, and moves the book away from his face. He squints his eyes under the bright sunlight and reaches for a pair of glasses left near him. In a weak attempt to make himself look more workplace appropriate, he brushes his hair with his fingers, making them even messier than before, and finally looks at Jungkook.

"I said - how can I help you?"

Something inside Jungkook clicks with realisation. Except he's not sure what he's realizing. It feels like something important has just happened, even though Jungkook has no idea what could be so special about a librarian sleeping on the job.

"I just," Jungkook stutters, too distracted with the way the other is looking at him to form proper sentences. He knows those eyes, he's sure he does. But from where? "I wanted to ask about a book."

Jungkook passes him a note with a title and a call number and watches how he tilts his head and squints at it, thinking for a moment. Jungkook feels a bit dizzy with how familiar this little gesture is. It has no right to be that way, Jungkook's never been to this library. He's never seen him before. It doesn't make any sense. And yet, when he returns the piece of paper, Jungkook can't help but feel a shiver shaking his whole body as their fingers brush.

"Have you checked on the shelves?"

"I did."

"And it's not there?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

"Then someone must have borrowed it before you."

Does he really think Jungkook's this stupid? "I know. I wanted to ask if you know when that person’s going to return it."

He types something on a keyboard and after a few seconds he skims through the results that showed up on a computer screen in front of him.

“A month.” He looks up at Jungkook, notices the questioning look on the other one face and adds, “You’re unlucky, they borrowed it yesterday. It means they still have a month to return it. So March 14th. Might be sooner than that, though. Or later… if they don’t care about our rules.”

Jungkook’s expression darkens with disappointment. “Is there any other copy of this book available?”

The guy glances at the screen again. “Currently it’s the only copy in the system. Sorry. You picked a pretty niche book.”

Jungkook looks at his face again, his narrowed eyes and cute nose and says with confidence,

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.”

The other shrugs. “Sure. I could make a reservation for you so nobody else can borrow it before you. Do you have an account in the library?”

“Uh, no. It’s my first time here.”

“Right,” he reaches for a small stack of papers lying on the desk next to him and takes one from the top, “fill this in then.”

It’s a pretty generic form, asking for a name, address, occupation. Jungkook fills it out neatly and quickly and once he’s done, he hands him the paper back. Before he starts typing on the keyboard again, he skims through what Jungkook wrote and says,

“So you’re not a music major, huh?”

“No. Why?”

“It seemed fitting, since the book you’re asking for seems pretty specific.”

“I’m not, it’s just… a hobby, kind of.”

He gives Jungkook one last not-really-interested look and starts typing the data into the computer. It only takes a moment until he’s done, and using the opportunity that he can’t look back, Jungkook observes him, still unable to shake off the weird feeling that he knows him from somewhere.

“Okay, all done,” he finally says, shaking Jungkook out of his thoughts. He hands him a small leaflet and a card. “Here’s our set of rules that nobody reads. And here’s your library card that people always lose anyway. Just for my sake, don’t be like them.” 

Jungkook can’t help but huff a laugh at that and the guy’s stern expression breaks into something closer to a smile. “If you need more information you can always find them on our site. The address is on the leaflet I gave you. Do you have any questions?” 

Jungkook has a lot of them but unfortunately none of them are related to the library rules. He shakes his head. 

“Great.” The librarian settles more comfortably in his chair and before he goes back to his book he adds a quiet, “See you in a month then.”

Jungkook memorizes the way Yoongi loses himself when he plays. He likes to see him like that, when his love for music is so obvious, it pours from his every movement.

Yoongi's fingers hit the piano keys one final time and the note echoes around the concert hall. It lasts for a few more seconds before it fades out completely, and instead, the spacious room fills with the sound of clapping. From his seat in the back row, Jungkook watches how Yoongi gets up from the piano stool, faces the audience, and bows. He walks off the stage confident and proud, but Jungkook knows well enough that if he were closer, he would see that little blush of embarrassment coloring the tips of his ears, that faint smile he has when he knows he did a good job. Jungkook lets the warmth of fondness swell within him until it's close to overflowing.

After the concert ends Jungkook waits for him outside, in front of the back doors of the philharmonic hall, stepping from one foot to another in the snow and looking out for the familiar silhouette. When Yoongi exits, he’s surrounded by people Jungkook doesn't recognize, who keep chirping polite courtesies to him or patting his back with wooing smiles plastered on their faces. Yoongi looks tired, Jungkook thinks, when he notices his tense shoulders and his lips stretched with a smile that only reaches his eyes when he spots Jungkook in the crowd. 

He excuses himself, walking away from them, and his steps crunch in the snow as he gets closer to Jungkook.

“You made it,” he says once he’s next to him. He smiles wide now, and Jungkook realizes how much he’s missed seeing it. Seeing him. 

“How could I miss it?” Jungkook smiles back. 

He follows Yoongi to the empty alleyway, taking his hand in his own on the way. He doesn’t even notice when, but Yoongi stops, presses himself closer and rests his head against Jungkook’s shoulder. He nearly melts under Jungkook’s touch, all the tension leaving his body as Jungkook strokes his back with gentle hands. 

“How long are you going to stay?” Yoongi asks with his lips pressed to Jungkook’s neck.

“For a while.” 

Yoongi hums in answer and Jungkook could swear he hears relief in it. He tightens his hold around Yoongi’s waist, pulls him even closer to himself, inhaling the smell of his hair. He closes his eyes, focusing on the warmth of Yoongi’s body and feeling the rapid beats of his own heart. 

“You were amazing today.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh. “Are you trying to play me up?”

“Do I even have to?” Jungkook grins. “After all, you adore me already.”

Yoongi laughs and his shoulders shake gently with it. He nuzzles his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck, curls his fingers into the fabric at Jungkook’s back like he never intends to let go.

“Shut up.”

February 16th

The library isn’t as empty as before, the next day Jungkook visits. There are some students sitting by the desks, hidden behind their laptops or hunched over thick textbooks, looking like they’re being kept alive only by sheer force of will and the energy drinks they snuck inside. Seeing the dark circles under their eyes and hearing their tired sighs, Jungkook’s suddenly reminded of how glad he is that this period of life is behind him.

The day is busier and so is the librarian Jungkook met, it seems. Sitting on a beanbag that, in his mind, Jungkook has now officially claimed as his spot, he observes how the man is walking around the bookshelves, carrying piles of books, disappearing every now and then into the backroom with a “staff only” sign on the door. Sometimes, Jungkook catches his hushed, low voice as he’s explaining something (politely but with an obvious hint of boredom) to some lost students. Jungkook tries to focus on it, not his words necessarily, but the sound of it. It’s calming, Jungkook realizes - pleasant to listen to.

At one point, he passes Jungkook’s station, if a beanbag even counts. He doesn’t stop on his way though, just gives Jungkook a surprised glance before he disappears between the rows again. He doesn’t approach him at all during the day, and Jungkook scolds himself for feeling disappointed about it. After all, why would they talk again? They don’t know each other.

With an easel set up in front of him, Jungkook draws. His hand moves almost on its own, sketching the soft lines of the bridge of a nose, the curve of an upper lip and the slight hint of front teeth showing through the little gap of a parted mouth.

In all of his portraits, there's a certain way that the lines fall into place, revealing repeating features. It’s not obvious for anybody looking at his works, but it’s clear to Jungkook.

He's not sure who it is or why and how he always ends up drawing them. The only thing he knows is that even if he's never seen them before, the image of their face is always at the back of his mind.

Sometimes he has dreams, vivid and frighteningly real, in which he sees them. It's never anything close to a proper story or event. Just him sitting next to them, close enough to feel the warmth of their body in the place where their shoulders touch. He sees their eyelashes, and their eyebrows furrowed with concentration, their hands and fingers hovering over something. Sometimes, he even hears their voice, low and gritty, saying words that Jungkook can’t ever make out.

"Knock, knock," Jungkook hears as Taehyung's head unrepentantly peeks through the door. "How is it going?"

"I'm almost finished. Are you waiting for me?"

Taehyung walks into the classroom and shrugs. "I didn't really have anything better to do anyway."

With his big eyes and sunny grin, Taehyung reminds Jungkook of a cute and a-bit-clingy puppy. He keeps following Jungkook around the academy, engaging him in small conversations, throwing in silly jokes here and there until one day Jungkook realized that, without him noticing, they became best friends.

There's something special about him that Jungkook hasn't found in anyone else he's met before. Hidden under the surface of his politeness, there's a type of quiet acuteness to him, almost intimidating at times. Despite how carefree he appears to be, he's one of the brightest and most creative people Jungkook knows, putting his whole self into whatever he does. Jungkook likes that about him the most.

Adding some final touches to his work, Jungkook can feel Taehyung’s presence behind him. He turns around to see how Taehyung tilts his head, his bangs falling to the side with the movement, eyes focused on the portrait. He furrows, like he’s trying to figure something out but doesn’t say a word which makes Jungkook feel somewhat uneasy.

“Something wrong?”

“Hm? No, not really,” he smiles, “You did a great job, as always.”

February 18th

“You know,” the sudden sound of a familiar voice scares Jungkook enough to make him flinch, “they won’t return the book faster just because you sit here everyday, Jeon Jungkook.”

He looks at Jungkook from the other side of the bookshelf, his face peeking from between the books. There’s muffled, angry sounding hip hop music coming from the earbuds hanging around his neck.

“How do you know my name?”

“Maybe because I created your account like, three days ago.”

Oh, right. Jungkook doesn’t know why he suddenly forgot about that.

“I didn’t expect you to remember it,” he says, genuinely surprised, but all he gets in answer is a dismissive shrug and the sound of another book being put on a shelf.

Jungkook tries to focus on reading again but with the other’s presence so close to him, he can’t quite force himself to comprehend anything he’s staring at.

“It’s unfair,” Jungkook starts again, “I had to write my address there and I don’t even know your name.”

The librarian squints, looking at the book he’s holding, completely unbothered by Jungkook’s words. “That’s unfortunate.”

“I bet I could find out if I tried,” Jungkook teases and finally gets his attention. “I could go to your, uh… manager… boss… person and ask about their one worker who sleeps at his job and listens to music during working hours.”

The other shakes his head with over-exaggerated disappointment. “I can’t believe you would go full baby boomer on me. Good thing she already knows that and doesn’t care about any of it.”

The steady beat coming from his earphones goes silent as he puts them back in his ears. Before he goes away, he sends Jungkook a smug smile that makes Jungkook’s heart jump in his chest.

“Nice try though, Jeon Jungkook.”

After a few moments of tense silence, the jazz club fills with the loud ovation. Jimin bows with his brightest smile on his face and then gracefully walks off the stage. He gives the audience one last wink before disappearing backstage and Jungkook barely manages to stop himself from rolling his eyes. A perfect star, of course.

Jungkook's always amazed by Jimin and Seokjin's presence on stage. How much their charisma shines through when they sing, how easily they're able to steal people’s hearts with a smile. He wonders if he would be able to do that, to charm the crowd with just a single look of his eyes. Sometimes, he thinks that possibly, there's potential hidden deep within himself, but it's not like he's ever going to experience how it feels to hear people's ovation for him, cheering for an encore.

"Hey, pretty boy," he hears a gruff voice. "Can you come here for a second?"

Jungkook looks to his side to see an older looking man who looks like he had one glass of whisky too much, judging by the filthy little smirk playing at the corners of his lips and unfocused look of his eyes. Jungkook sighs, pushing his idle daydreams away.

"How can I help you, sir?" he asks, mustering his perfect customer service smile.

"Bring me another drink, will you?" the melting ice cubes clink in the empty glass that he shakes under Jungkook's nose, "I'm starting to get thirsty again." He gives him a weird look that Jungkook tries not to pay any attention to.

"Of course," he mutters, this time much colder. He's not planning to play nice with a guy like this.

Jungkook doesn't particularly like being a waiter. He doesn't like the feeling of others' eyes on himself, staring at him like they want to swallow him whole, their gaze burning like a physical thing. He doesn't like dealing with rude, drunk customers and he doesn't like being hit on by strangers. He doesn't like being in a stuffy room where the air seems almost thick with cigarette smoke, where he has to shove through the crowd to get to the bar and back.

He does enjoy observing people, though. He likes the moments when the whole room falls silent as the lights go dark before the performances. He likes seeing people's faces when they look at Jimin and Seokjin singing. He loves seeing the joy in their eyes, that soft, innocent admiration for their voices that sometimes Jungkook's able to catch. And besides that, he’s made good friends here. Neither Jimin or Seokjin act like they're better than him just because they’re singers. From the beginning, they showed him nothing but sympathy and acceptance and sometimes Jungkook can't believe he’s found friends like them.

He's done with the guy pretty quickly, thankfully without having to deal with any more comments from him. When he’s looking around the room from his place near the bar, he feels a touch of arms wrapping around his shoulder in a way that he knows way too well. Jimin's always been the touchy type, especially when he's high on post-performance adrenaline.

"Did you see my performance?" he chirps right into Jungkook's ear. "How did you like it?"

"You were amazing, as always," Jungkook answers honestly. "People couldn't take their eyes off of you."

Jimin beams, trying to hug him tighter but Jungkook manages to break free from his hold. "Thank you! I was trying really hard, just for you." He giggles sweetly and Jungkook wonders how this much warmth can fit into someone so small. "Seokjin is over there, you see?" he points at some table at the back of the local, "He wanted me to join after my performance. You should too!"

"I'm working, you know that."

"So?" Before Jungkook can protest, Jimin's already pulling him by a hand towards the table.  "I'm giving you a break then."

"You?" Jungkook chuckles. "You're not my boss."

"I'm the star here. That's better than some boring old boss."

Once they're by the table, Seokjin stands up to give Jimin a light hug. They act like they haven't seen each other in ages, even though Jungkook knows it's been around two hours since the last time they've talked.

"Look at you! They loved you," Seokjin says with a smile. "Don't tell me you're thinking of stealing my main star status, you little shit."

After that, there's a lot of introductions. It looks like Seokjin invited the bigger part of his wide circle of friends to join for the evening and the next minute is mostly names being thrown back and forth, the shaking of hands and polite smiles. Jungkook doesn't memorise any of the names he hears. Some people give him a few glances, but the spark of curiosity in their eyes fades away quickly when they learn that no, Jungkook's not a singer, he's working and currently waiting to take an order.

It does take a while for everybody to decide what they're planning to get drunk on tonight and Jungkook goes from one hesitant person to another, writing down their orders. His list fills with things from classic whiskey to fancy drinks with senseless names until,

"Could I get a glass of water?" Jungkook hears.

It catches him off guard and he looks up at whoever said it. The voice belongs to a man, not much older than Jungkook, with a loosen up tie around unbuttoned collar of a white shirt. He looks up at Jungkook with just-a-bit tired eyes and even though everything about him seems simple, Jungkook can’t take his eyes away from him.

"I'm sorry but could you repeat that?" Jungkook manages to get the words out. "I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

"Just water, please," the man answers.

"Oh, boring," Seokjin whines next to him. "Having some fun once in a while won’t kill you."

"I am having fun. I just don't feel like drinking tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get so upset. I was joking. A strange concept for you, I know."

"I agree," the other bites back, "jokes that nobody finds funny except from you is a strange concept for me."

Seokjin gasps, pressing his hand to his chest in an overly hurt gesture. "I can't believe someone  I call a friend would say something like that to my face. Friendship revoked."

“Oh no,” his friend says, straight faced. “Whatever will I do.”

The people around the table laugh, Jimin being the one whose laughter’s the loudest, but Jungkook stays silent, he doesn't even smile. A weird haziness clouds his mind and his legs feel weak all of a sudden. There's something wrong going on with him, except he doesn't know why, he was fine a minute ago. Maybe it's from working too long or maybe he needs to get some fresh air. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to catch a few deeper breaths and calm his pounding heart. It doesn't help much, though.

"Of course," he mutters, writing the order down. He notices concern in the way that the man ordering the water looks at him. Jungkook forces himself to send him something he hopes is a reassuring smile and after that, the guy breaks the eye contact, focusing on Seokjin instead, almost like he got shy. “I’ll be right back with your order.”

Still feeling weak at the knees, Jungkook makes it to the bar. He watches how the bartender prepares the drinks but his mind is still focused on Seokjin’s friend. Jungkook sees a lot of people visiting every night, it couldn’t be his first time at the club. And if he’s close to Seokjin then the chances that he was there before are even higher. That’s why he feels so familiar. Jungkook must have seen him before. He just doesn't remember it.

Jungkook swallows with some difficulty and scrunches his nose at the unpleasant, metallic taste in his mouth. He doesn’t remember biting his cheek or anything like that but nevertheless, he presses a finger to his lips, expecting to see red on it.

It’s clean. Yet, the taste of blood lingers on his tongue like a constant companion, following him through the night until his eyes slide shut.

February 21st  

Jungkook flips through the pages, trying to focus, but with each new reproduction of a painting he sees, his eyelids grow more and more heavy. Everything around him is quiet, the library almost empty except from a few random souls wandering around. Jungkook sinks more and more into his beanbag, lulled by the low buzz of the automatic lights above his head.

He doesn’t fall asleep exactly but his mind goes somewhere past being conscious, where reality and dreams mix in a strange hazy mess. He’s still vaguely aware of where he is but his imagination plays with what’s around him, disfiguring the sounds and faint voices that reach him. Like being asleep on a bus or train during a long ride, he’s balancing somewhere on the edge of dreaming.

He's not sure how much time passes like this but the next thing he knows is the feeling of something nudging his arm, gently at first and then, as he tries to ignore it, more impatiently.

"Hey, wake up."

Jungkook blinks his eyes open reluctantly to see the librarian guy squatting beside him. The gears in his brain finally start moving slowly and when he finally realizes what's going on, he tries to lift himself up from the beanbag, only to sink even lower on it. He stays in that awkward half-lying, half-sitting position and asks, his own voice coming out way lower than it should be,

"What time is it?"

"Seven fifty. We close at eight."

"Shit. Sorry. I didn't think I'd fall asleep here." Due to a lack of better solutions, Jungkook finally rolls off the damn thing, trying to ignore all of the weird sounds it makes, and sits on the floor. He hides a yawn behind his sleeve and runs his hands through his hair, hoping it will somehow help him feel more awake. The result is average, at best.

"It's alright. We're equal now," the guy grins.

"Except I wasn't sleeping at work."

"A tiny detail," he reaches for a book lying on a floor next to Jungkook. "Anyway, what kind of boring thing were you reading before you passed out?"

He looks at the cover of the thick art book and then skips through few pages, without paying much attention to it. "First music, now this. You really are an artsy kid, aren't you?"

"I'm just..." Jungkook hesitates, "looking for something."

"For what?"

"I'm not exactly sure yet."

The guy snorts. "That complicates things."

Jungkook fumbles with a few of the notebooks scattered on a floor around him. He wants to add that yes, searching blindly for an answer without having a certain question first is pretty hard. Going through tons of different books, powered only by a feeling of constantly missing something, and then finding nothing except disappointment, gets exhausting after a while. A mess of memories that he doesn’t know why he has doesn't help much.

He doesn't say any of it though, just zips his backpack in a hurry, feeling the observant eyes watching his movements.

"I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Don't worry about it."

He walks towards the door leading to the corridor outside when he hears,

"Min Yoongi."

Jungkook stops in the middle of his step. He turns around and narrows his eyes, confused.

"What?"

"My name's Yoongi. In case you still feel unfair about it."

Fact one: Jung Hoseok is nice.

Nice in a way that makes it easy to be around him, with his sunny smile and dumb, contagious laughter. He talks a lot, something Jungkook always appreciates, being the introvert that he is, and at least half of the things he says aren’t too serious. He has the great ability to attract people to himself, bringing them closer like a magnet with a friendly look in his crinkling eyes and a toothy grin. He's cute too, Jungkook noticies now, as two dimples show in Hoseok's cheeks when he talks to a girl standing behind a counter, ordering another drink.

"So you're getting along now, huh?" Jungkook asks.

“I guess I’m getting used to him,” Yoongi says between sips of his beer. “But I bet he smokes something suspicious in his room.”

Yoongi inviting Hoseok for a dinner seems like a big step forward in whatever relation he has with his roommate, but Jungkook doesn’t ask. He's just glad it's going smoother than he expected.

"He seems nice,” Jungkook mumbles, chewing on the straw of his drink absently. Yoongi just hums in answer. “I don't know why you hated him so much."

"I never said that I hated him. He was just annoying. Still is, sometimes. He keeps listening to music so loud I think he forgets he’s not the only one living there."

Jungkook smiles gently. “Is it good music, at least?”

“Some dancing tunes, I don’t know. Hip-hop sometimes. At least he has okay taste in that.”

Hoseok comes back a few minutes later and plops down next to Yoongi.

"So," he starts with a grin and puts his arm around Yoongi's shoulders. Jungkook expects Yoongi to push it away, but he doesn't. "I've never heard about how you two met."

"He bribed a dude so he could sit next to me in a lecture hall," Yoongi says.

Hoseok's eyes widen as he glances between the two of them, clearly waiting for some continuation of that story.

"I didn't bribe him," Jungkook grumbles. "I just... used some subtle persuasion."

"If doing someone's homework for two weeks is not a bribe then I don't know what is," Yoongi laughs. "I still don't get why you cared so much."

“You know why. Your row had the best view of the blackboard.”

It’s not true, Jungkook couldn’t care less about the blackboard. He didn’t absorb one word from that lecture, too distracted by the feeling that he must know Yoongi from somewhere. Among over a hundred other students, Yoongi was the one Jungkook noticed first, even if there wasn’t anything special about him. He didn’t stand out from the crowd much, maybe except from the serious look of his narrowed eyes.

That’s what Jungkook remembers the most from that first encounter, the moment their eyes met and the sudden certainty that followed, that Jungkook needed to get to know him.

They started talking, about something trivial, the teachers, school building, that one professor that supposedly is so strict that students cry during his classes. It was nothing more than just standard conversation on the first day of school. But they clicked immediately.

He’s never told Yoongi about any of his feelings. He never mentions that, for some reason, Yoongi makes him think of old love songs, even when he knows Yoongi doesn’t even like them much. He never confessed that Yoongi smells like home to him, warm and familiar. And he never said that he feels like they’ve known each other  for ages and not just a few years.

Fact two: Jung Hoseok is a touchy type.

As the evening goes, his side stays pressed to Yoongi, nudging him every time something Yoongi says makes him laugh. Yoongi doesn't react, just sits there and accepts it, giving Hoseok a few wry glances when he leans against him like Yoongi’s a pillow and rests his head on Yoongi's shoulder. But even then he doesn't seem to mind that much.

Fact three: Jung Hoseok is an absolute lightweight.

Two colorful drinks are enough to turn him into a giggling mess, speaking even louder than before. It's amusing, really, how he doesn't seem to realize any of it, stubbornly repeating how sober he is, and Jungkook finds himself laughing to the point he can't catch his breath anymore.

"Yeah uh, I don't think so," Yoongi says, tugging at Hoseok sleeve when the other tries to get up clumsily to head to the bar, "I can take you home now while you're still more or less walking on your own or just leave your dead body here later. Your choice."

"Look at you, taking care of me and all," Hoseok slurs. He presses his palm to Yoongi's chest before mumbling, "So you have a good heart hidden somewhere deep down there, after all.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. "Did you think I didn't?"

"You were acting like a total dick for two weeks after I moved in. So yeah. I had some doubts. Also, dude, go to a doctor or something ‘cause I can feel that little heart of yours beating way too fast. It’s weird.”

Yoongi swats Hoseok’s hand away. "I don't recall anything like that, I was perfectly civil," he deadpans.

"You didn't say a word to me for fourteen days!"

"Still. No idea what are you talking about. Now get the fuck up, we're going home."

Jungkook watches how they stand up from their sit, Hoseok stumbling just a bit before he catches his balance again.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Jungkook asks.

“No worries. I’ve handled worse things,” Yoongi says with a smile, ignoring the offended “did you just call me a thing?” next to him.

Yoongi runs his hand through Jungkook’s hair. It’s an old habit he developed somewhere along the years of their friendship. Jungkook doesn’t like to admit to himself how much he grew to like it. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook keeps looking at them as they walk away, seeing how Yoongi’s arm wraps around Hoseok’s waist to steady him. As they disappear behind the door, he can’t help but feel like something important is getting further away from him, moving to a place that the can’t reach.

February 24th

Jungkook would pay for snow. Actually, he would pay for pretty much anything to replace that annoying, cold drizzle that currently covers every inch of his clothes, making them damp and uncomfortable. He hides his nose further behind a scarf and speeds up a little to get to the library faster.

He notices Yoongi in front in the entrance, hidden under a tiny rooftop there, stepping from one foot to another. Judging by the cloud of gray smoke Jungkook sees, it must be his cigarette break.

"Min Yoongi," Jungkook grins, once he's close to him, "hey."

Yoongi's lips quirk with a smile. "Is this what we're doing now? Addressing each other by our full names everytime we meet?"

Jungkook shrugs. "You started it."

Truthfully, Jungkook would really rather go inside. His winter, assumedly waterproof, jacket turns out to not be waterproof at all and Jungkook starting to shiver underneath it. He stays where he is though, looking at Yoongi exhaling a thin plume of smoke.

“A bad habit,” Jungkook says.

Yoongi glances at the cigarette between his fingers. “The fact that I have to freeze my ass here makes me consider quitting.”

He doesn’t finish it but stubs with his fingers and throws on the ground instead. He sniffs, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. "You have a lot of free time, don't you? Coming here almost everyday like this."

"I wouldn't say I have that much free time," Jungkook shrugs, "I guess I'm just not bad at managing it. And I work from home."

"Lucky. And what do you do?"

"I'm a freelancer. I create storyboards."

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly like he's impressed and Jungkook can't help but feel a little bit warmer inside.

"I knew you were an artsy kid," Yoongi grins.

Kid. Jungkook narrows his eyes, hearing Yoongi calling him that again. He can't quite put him finger on it, but it makes him feel weird. Not uncomfortable exactly, but just... weird. It clutches his chest just slightly, but not in an irritating way. More sad maybe, Jungkook isn't sure.

"You keep calling me a kid like I’m some high schooler. I bet we have similar ages."

"Yeah? So how old are you?"

"I'll be 23 this year. You?"

"Almost 27. So I still have a right to call you that."

Jungkook huffs a laugh. "If you have to."

They stay quiet for a while, surrounded by a hiss of the rainfall. Jungkook can't stop himself from glancing at Yoongi from time to time. He has a pretty profile, Jungkook notices - the soft looking tip of the nose, nicely shaped lips and sharp line of jaw. There are three different earrings in his earlobe, two studs and one hoop. It's attractive.

Yoongi's really damn attractive.

“So, how is your research going?" Yoongi says finally. "Have you found anything yet?”

Jungkook swallows, rousing from his thoughts. He shakes his head. “No. But I feel like I’m getting closer when I study here."

Yoongi nods, but he doesn’t seem to understand Jungkook exactly. Jungkook doesn’t blame him. He watches how Yoongi takes out his phone and glances at the screen briefly.

“My break’s over so I’m going inside. Coming?” Yoongi asks.

Jungkook nods and follows Yoongi to the spacious hall. The warmth of it wraps around him like a blanket as soon as he steps inside and Jungkook can feel his stiff muscles relaxing with a relief. He stops, ready to go downstairs and hesitates, seeing Yoongi taking a different way.

"I gotta leave my stuff in the locker room so..."

"Oh, right," Yoongi mutters. He smiles at Jungkook before continuing on his way to the elevator. "See you around then."

Jungkook blinks his eyes open and after a moment of blankness, he recognizes the smooth satin of Yoongi’s sheets touching his skin. He doesn’t find Yoongi anywhere near him though, and sits up to look around the dark bedroom, drowsy and confused. The only sound that disturbs the deep silence around the apartment is the rustle of paper pages combined with delicate melody of a piano.

Jungkook pads across the corridor, following the faint glow of the lamp coming from another room. He finds Yoongi sitting by the piano, too immersed in his work to notice him. He scribbles something on a sheet of paper and then crosses it out, shaking his head like it didn’t quite work to satisfy him. His fingers skim the keys, light enough not to make any sound, dancing smoothly between the ivory and the ebony.

“Sudden inspiration?” Jungkook says as he wraps his arms around Yoongi and rests his chin on top of his shoulder. He can feel how he flinches with surprise before he relaxes and leans more comfortably against Jungkook’s body.

“Yeah,” he admits with an exhale, his body softening as the sharp lines of tension smooth away.

Jungkook presses his lips right below Yoongi’s ear, going further down until he reaches the crook of his neck. He breaths in the scent of Yoongi’s skin, all at once becoming hazy with its familiarity and the feeling of belonging that overwhelms him every time they’re together.

“You’re distracting me,” Yoongi mutters but he still tilts his head, giving Jungkook a better access.

Jungkook smiles, lips brushing lightly over Yoongi’s skin. “Oh, am I? I had no idea.”

His fingers play with the collar of Yoongi’s loose shirt and then move to slide the material off his shoulder, which falls easily. A shiver runs down his spine as Jungkook presses his mouth to the revealed skin.

“Ah, really,” Yoongi sighs with a tone that, instead of sounding irritated, sounds more pleased than anything else, “you’re so annoying.”

Jungkook just giggles. He peeks at Yoongi’s notes, squinting to see what’s already written there. “What are you working on?”

For now, only the few first lines of staff are filled with symbols but before Jungkook can read them properly, Yoongi turns the pages away.

“What’s that about? Are you keeping a secret?” Jungkook snorts.

“No, I just… I don’t want you to see it before it’s finished.”

“Why?” Jungkook turns so he can look at Yoongi’s face and adds jokingly, “Are you writing it for me?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook’s lips spread with a wide smile and he hides it, ducking his face into Yoongi’s shoulder. His heart speeds up with joy, its beats so distinct now that Jungkook suspects Yoongi can feel them too. He presses even closer to Yoongi’s back, wrapping his arms tighter around him.

“You’re so sappy,” Jungkook mutters.

Yoongi huffs a laugh and his hand reaches for Jungkook’s hair, running his fingers through his messy strands.

“So are you. ”

February 26th

Jungkook pats the pockets of his jeans and hoodie but doesn’t find anything. As a last resort, he bends down in front of the vending machine and sticks his hand in the place where it throws back change, hoping someone forgot to take their money. He doesn’t have luck with that either. He’s about to resign from having a hot drink, when he hears above himself,

“Having problems with the vending machine?”

Seeing Yoongi looking down at him with an amused, little smile, Jungkook straightens up at once.

“This old thing keeps eating my money all the time,” Yoongi adds.

“No, it’s not that. Turns out I don’t have any change with me so…”

“So you were trying to rob the machine?” Yoongi smiles wide enough to show his gums. It’s cute. The way his eyes crinkle, too. He steps closer, getting coins out of his pocket. “What do you want?”

“Oh, you don’t have to!” Jungkook tries.

“Don’t worry about it. So?”

“I was thinking,” Jungkook hesitates, “of hot chocolate, maybe.”

He catches Yoongi biting his lip like he’s trying to hold back his smile. He doesn’t say anything about it though, just slots the money inside and pushes the right button.

Once the machine’s done making all sorts of weird noises and their drinks are ready (Jungkook has to stop himself from scrunching his nose when he sees Yoongi reducing the sugar in his coffee to minimum), they settle on the bench nearby the small cafeteria. Truthfully, Jungkook isn’t sure if Yoongi wants his company. He just knows he wants Yoongi’s.

They don’t say anything for a while but Jungkook doesn’t feel awkward. It’s nice to just enjoy Yoongi’s presence next to him, without feeling like he’s obligated to come up with a topic to talk about.

Yoongi’s finger keeps tracing the lid of his cup absently when he says, “Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t look back at Jungkook, his eyes staying focused on his hands, like he’s lost in his thoughts.

“What is it?”

“You said you’re not sure what you’re looking for. But you must have at least some idea, right? It's okay if you don't want to tell me,” Yoongi shrugs, "but I'm just curious."

Jungkook tries to gather his thoughts. It's not that he doesn't want to tell, it's that he himself doesn't know how to explain it. He's never put his feelings into proper words, he doesn't even know where to begin.

"There's this one song I'm trying to find. Not a song exactly, more like a melody."

Yoongi raises his eyebrow. "And books are supposed to help you? Wouldn't a music store be a more appropriate choice than a library?"

"I’ve already tried. But it’s not easy when you don’t know who composed or played it."

"What kind of melody is it?"

"It’s a classical piece, a solo played on piano. I feel like it's old but I have no idea from what time it may be. That's why I'm reading all those books about composers and all of that. To maybe find a clue. Or anything really. "

"And where do you know it from?"

Jungkook hesitates. "I don't know. I just do. Sometimes it feels like I’ve always known."

"But you must have heard it somewhere before?"

"I did. I just don't remember when or where."

Yoongi looks at him and blinks a few times, then furrows, like he's trying to process all of the things he's just heard. It takes him a moment before he says, "That's, um... pretty messed up."

Jungkook snorts. "You don't say?” He starts to fumble with his empty cup to occupy his hands with something, feeling the uncomfortable, way too familiar feeling clutching his chest. “It's frustrating. Like I forgot a word and had it at the tip of my tongue but I still can’t figure out what it is."

“I mean, I can’t really relate but yeah, sounds annoying.”

“It is,” Jungkook mutters. He tries to make his voice sound more careless when he adds, “Anyway, did it satisfy your curiosity?”

“Actually, I feel like it had the opposite effect. I wish I could help but I know nothing about old time composers. And I haven’t even been close to a piano myself.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow wider. He doesn’t know why it’s so surprising for him, he never really thought about it, why would he? But for some reason, it feels like Yoongi’s just smashed one of Jungkook's beliefs.

“So you can’t play?”

“No? Where did you get the idea that I can?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just got that impression from you.”

“That’s a really weird impression to get,” Yoongi laughs. He gets up from the bench with a little groan and throws the empty cup into the bin. “I gotta go, I just stretched my 15 minutes break to a 25 minute one. Are you coming back to that nest you always set between the rows?”

Jungkook feels the corners of his lips twitch with a smile. “Yeah.”

“Maybe I should just give you some pillows and blankets and leave you food from time to time, so you settle there for good,” Yoongi’s grin just widens when Jungkook rolls his eyes at him. “See you there.”

Jungkook stays where he is for a while with a trace of a smile still stuck to his lips. He doesn’t feel that much different after the conversation, except maybe that he’s a little bit lighter now, that he let out at least a small part of what he holds inside him.

But even if he shared it with Yoongi, he doesn’t plan to tell him that everytime they’re together, he can hear the melody clearer than ever before.

“Who are they?” Taehyung asks.

He’s sprawled on the grass of the academy yard, brown hair shining in the hot sun of June and skin glowing with a tan. His fingers skip through the pages of Jungkook’s sketchbook.

“Who are you talking about?”

“That person you always draw. Who are they? Your lover?”

“What? No! What gave you that stupid idea?”

“Maybe the fact that they’re all over this sketchbook. Seems like someone important to you.”

Jungkook bites on his lip, pulls his knees closer to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “I thought it wasn’t that obvious for others to notice it.” He curls around himself even more under Taehyung’s shrewd gaze.

“It’s not, it took me a while to notice,” Taehyung starts with a light tone. “At first I thought maybe it’s just a habit of yours. But it’s not like that. It’s not the same face. They’re all different people, in different poses and showing various emotions, yet that one person is still there.” He smiles to himself, looking down on Jungkook’s drawings again. “I’ve never seen something like that before.”

“I don’t know who it is. But every time I draw, it always ends up the same. I’m not planning it or doing it on purpose. It just happens.”

Taehyung sits up and scoots closer to Jungkook. “Keep going, it sounds interesting.”

Jungkook snorts. “You’ll just think I’m stupid.”

“Me? Never.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, deciding it’s no use to hide it. Taehyung’s always honest with him, even when it comes to the strangest things. Maybe Jungkook owes him the same thing.

“I keep seeing them in some memories, sometimes in my dreams. It’s like… like I know them but I haven’t met them yet.” He looks up from his hands at Taehyung, meeting his attentive eyes. “ Does that even make sense?”

“It does for me,” Taehyung says without a hint of mockery in his voice.

“Oh, really? Do you have any reasonable explanation for it?”

“Soulmates, obviously.”

“I said reasonable explanation,” Jungkook laughs. He falls silent though, suddenly realizing that Taehyung’s not joking.

“I gave you one. Think about it for a moment. It’s someone you must have known at one point. You don’t remember the details but they must’ve been important enough to stay in your memory. You know,” he makes some vague gesture with his hands, “subconsciousness and all of that. And now you’ll have to wait to meet again one day.”

“Yeah? And how is that going to happen? How am I supposed to find them? There’s a lot of people on this Earth.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Who knows, just keep looking. Once you find them, you’ll know.”

Jungkook smiles and shakes his head. He’s not convinced by any of it but he must admit, it sounds lovely, in a way. “God, you really are a romantic, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Taehyung beams, “I believe that once someone settles in your heart, it’s not easy to get rid of them.”

March 2nd

They keep running into each other during the day, in library halls or between the bookshelves rows, and they’re frowned upon when one of them laughs a little bit too loudly to follow the silence rule. Before Jungkook settles in his usual place, he always makes sure to see Yoongi by the desk first to greet him with a little hushed hello. They spend their breaks together, settled by the small tables in the cramped cafeteria or standing nearby the vending machine, complaining about the cheap taste of the drinks. Their conversations develop into something more comfortable and personal, passing the line of simple small talk. It's easy and natural and Yoongi opens up to him, telling him small details about his life. Revealing a warmer, softer side hidden under the surface of fierce appearance, his ripped jeans, leather jackets and bleached messy hair.

It's good. Jungkook's happy.

Although, it's getting harder to focus, especially when he spots Yoongi wandering around the room, or when he catches the faint smell of Yoongi's cologne when he's near. It's difficult to keep reading when Yoongi smiles at him as their eyes meet. It's more complicated to stay interested with the book and not count down the time to when he knows that Yoongi's break begins.

It's getting tougher not to let his eyes flick down to Yoongi’s lips when he speaks, not to look at his hands when he gesticulates, to ignore the ideas that pop up in Jungkook’s head. Like leaning in and kissing the pout away from Yoongi’s lips. Or holding his hand when they walk side by side.

But it's good. Jungkook's happy.

And just a tiny little bit in love.

It's always surprising how different the club is once it's empty - without the gentle sound of the piano and the deep rhythm of the double bass, void of the usual crowd and hum of hushed conversations. It's almost difficult to get used to how spacious it is, especially after a busy night, but Jungkook loves the feeling of moving freely between the tables, not worrying about nudging anyone in his way.

He collects everything that the guests have left behind - empty bottles and dirty glasses, ashtrays full of cigarette stubs, sometimes a lost earring or a stray lipstick tube under the table. It's a boring and tiring job but Jungkook doesn't mind it much.

Even though he likes being alone among it all, he prefers to fill the empty space with something. So he sings to himself, whatever comes to mind. Right now, it's a song that Seokjin always performs, one that Jungkook has heard enough times to memorise every word of. It's about finding love, or something along those lines at least, as most of the songs that Jungkook listens to often do, but he doesn't usually pay too much attention to the lyrics. He doesn't think his voice suits the song that well - Seokjin's ability to hit all of the high notes seem to fit it much better - but he keeps singing, even when his voice always cracks at the end of it.

"You sing well."

Jungkook turns around abruptly, surprised to see the grumpy water guy from a few days before standing at the back of the room, looking at Jungkook with a little smile.

"You heard?"

"Most of it, yeah."

Jungkook feels his cheeks flushing. He tries not to show that he's embarrassed though, and goes back to cleaning one of the tables, wiping it more relentlessly than before. "I'm sorry but we're closed," he mutters.

"I know. Seokjin told me to pick him up after the show. That's why I'm here."

"He's still in the dressing rooms, I think. Feel free to look for him, if you want."

The man pulls out one of the chairs with a scuff and settles down on it. "It's fine. I'll just wait here." A beat.  His smile widens. "Don’t mind me, keep singing if you want."

"I'm not a singer," Jungkook scoffs.

"Pity. You’d be a good one."

“What makes you such an expert?”

“Nothing,” the man shrugs, “I just can recognize a good voice when I hear one.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything back. He focuses on his work, noticing with irritation how his hands have become shaky. He tries but fails to ignore the feeling of the other’s man eyes on himself. He should be used to it by now, people are staring at him every night. But this feels different, less uncomfortable but way more noticeable, to the point Jungkook can almost feel it against his skin.

Jungkook glances back at him and, as their eyes meet, feels like something grabbed at his stomach and doesn't want to let go. Suddenly, images flash in front of his eyes. He sees drops of watercolors rolling down on paper, leaving colorful traces behind them. Canvas and brushes scattered on the floor, smudges on white shirt and fingers stained red.

“I see you two are talking,” Seokjin says when he enters the room even though nobody was saying anything. “Good. I hope you didn’t make a fool of yourself.”

His friend snorts. “Who are you talking to?”

“Both of you. Anyway,” he chirps, “sorry that I made you wait. We can go now.”

The man turns to Jungkook with a small smile. “It was nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Jungkook answers, stiffly, still shaken up by the sudden wave of memories.

Long after they’re gone, Jungkook’s thoughts still wander around him, messy and tangled and not making any sense.

March 8th

“Hey, Jungkook.”

The cafeteria is pretty empty except from its usual few customers, filled with silent conversations and the occasional clinking of cutlery. Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes away from his plate, shoving the suspiciously looking salad to the side of it.

“Yeah?” Jungkook manages to mumble through a mouthful of food.

“Are you free tomorrow evening?”

Jungkook’s really glad he swallowed before Yoongi asked, otherwise he’s afraid he might have choked and died on the spot. Or something. His brain suffers a short circuit, not expecting this kind of question at all. It takes him, in his opinion, embarrassingly long to answer,

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m thinking of going for a dinner after work, maybe grabbing a few drinks too. Want to go with me?”

Jungkook has to force the little voice in his head to stop  screaming “date” and instead form some kind of a coherent answer.

“Sure,” he says, feeling his grin spreading wide, “I mean, as long as you’re the one paying,” he adds cheekily.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles too, gently and in a way that Jungkook thinks may be shy. It’s new and Jungkook loves it immediately.

“Yeah, yeah. I finish work at five. You better not be late.”

Fact number four: Jung Hoseok’s in love.

It's on his way to Yoongi's apartment, a road Jungkook’s walked enough times to know by heart, that he catches sight of them. The small bell of the convenience store rings as the door swings open and Hoseok and Yoongi walk outside, carrying bags with food and bottles of drinks that Jungkook can hear clinking against each other from where he stands. They talk about something that Jungkook's doesn't catch exactly, but he knows it must be funny or pleasant, seeing Yoongi's face lighting up with a smile like that.

They don't spot him, they’re just standing in the middle of the small alleyway, in a patch of cold light from a nearby street lamp, still talking, their voices raised up like they're bickering, except their playful tone doesn't quite match up for an argument. Jungkook's about to run up to them but then Hoseok's fingers touch Yoongi's chin to raise it a little and a second later his lips meet Yoongi's. He kisses him easy and effortlessly, because, somehow, everything he does is like that. Easy. Natural. Honest. And when he pulls back, Jungkook can see the way he looks down on Yoongi, full of happiness and love in his bright smile.

Somewhere, through the piercing sound in his ears, Jungkook hears Yoongi’s low voice. He says something quietly enough that Jungkook can’t make it out and then the empty street fills with Hoseok’s laughter.

They walk away, Jungkook slowly loses the sight of them, and he can’t move. He stands in one place, and the only thing he can think about is that he needs an excuse. He needs to come up with a reason to tell Yoongi why he won’t visit him today. He’s feeling bad, he’s stuck with work, he’s away from home, anything, it doesn’t matter. He can’t go there tonight. Can’t force himself, even if he tried.

He finally turns around to come back home, drowning in senseless thoughts, how he probably already missed a bus and now will have to wait for an hour and that he doesn’t have a ticket and won’t be able to buy it anywhere and that he’s cold and his hands are freezing and he’s shaking all over. But he doesn’t think about the way Yoongi's hand found Hoseok’s to intertwine their fingers together. He doesn’t think how he’s already seen the beginning of it all in Yoongi’s soft smile when Hoseok wasn’t looking back, heard it in the tone of Yoongi’s voice when they talked. Jungkook doesn’t think about how he forced himself to ignore all of it, too afraid to accept that Yoongi’s feelings for Hoseok are something they’ve never been for him.

Jungkook doesn’t think about any of it.

It’s alright. Yoongi’s still here. They’re still friends. Nothing’s changed.

It’s just that he can’t stop feeling like something must’ve gone wrong.

March 9th

Jungkook noticed Yoongi’s attractiveness some time ago, probably during the first few seconds after seeing him, if he had to be honest with himself. But right now, sitting across the table, waiting for their food, Yoongi looks especially good and Jungkook supposes it may be the details that are responsible for it.

His hair is still a mess of blonde strands and Jungkook thinks Yoongi either just washed it, dried with a towel and left it like that or spent a good hour trying to style them to make it look that effortlessly. Nothing in between. He picked different earrings this time, not the hoops Jungkook’s used to but something more... visible, fancy almost. Two small dangly crosses sway from side to side with each of Yoongi’s movements.

It’s not like he dressed up that much differently for the occasion. He still looks comfy in his oversized flannel thrown over a simply white shirt except now, the neckline of it hangs low enough that Jungkook can see the small, silver necklace hanging below his collarbones. His sleeves are rolled up and Jungkook notices the faint sign of veins on his forearms, the thin bracelet around his wrist, the few rings on his fingers. His hands look nice. Not delicate exactly, his knuckles too knobby, wrists bones too visible, but still elegant when his finger brushes over his lips. They seem strong, like they could hold Jungkook’s waist, pull him close and steady him, yet be gentle when they caress his back, warm as they slip underneath—

“So why this place?"

Yoongi’s voice works on Jungkook like a bucket of cold water, bringing him right back where he should be. But even if he heard some of the words and a hint of the question mark at the end, he still has no idea what Yoongi’s asking about.

“What?”

“Man, your brain went places just now, huh?” Yoongi snorts and Jungkook can just pray that he won’t notice the hot flush burning Jungkook’s cheeks. “I asked, why did you choose this place?”

"The food's tasty. And cheap," Jungkook answers, feeling kind of stupid now that he's said it out loud.

When they met up, Yoongi let Jungkook pick the place himself. It's not like Jungkook's an expert when it comes the the city's nightlife but he does know where you can stuff your stomach with good food and not pay much for it. And that's all the qualities Jungkook needs to consider a place worth visiting.

It's hard to call this particular place a restaurant, it's more of a hole-in-the-wall kind of thing run by a nice, married couple. Sometimes they give Jungkook discounts and he isn't sure if it's because they consider him a regular customer or because they have a weird "you look just as our grandson!" thing going on with him. Either way, he’s not complaining.

"Two reasonable arguments," Yoongi smiles, "I like it."

Once their dishes are served, Jungkook catches they way Yoongi's eyes widen, clearly surprised by the actual size of their portions. Jungkook smiles to himself, seeing how Yoongi's face lights up once he takes his first bite. It's cute how he tries, not very successfully, to bite back his smile every time he tastes something new off his plate. He seems happy and Jungkook feels warm all over.

They eat, mostly in a pleasant silence, talking from time to time and listening to the radio playing in the background. It seems like this station specializes in old hits, true bangers from the times Jungkook wasn't born or even planned yet. Even if he doesn’t recognize half of them, they still pull at a nostalgic string in his heart.

Yoongi finishes all of his food, except from the dessert that he gives to Jungkook. He says something about dying if he tried to eat it and that he doesn’t like sweets that much anyway, so Jungkook doesn't hesitate for long before he digs into it. He can't help but smile for the whole time it takes to finish it.

Yoongi looks kind of like he could fall asleep right where he sits, sliding down his chair a bit, observing Jungkook through heavy lidded eyes with a soft smile at the corners of his lips.

"It's not the only place I know around here," Jungkook says. "So you better stand up before you melt completely."

"My glucose level reached its maximum peak, Jungkook," Yoongi mutters. "You'll have to drag me there. And it's going to be tough because I feel like I've just gained around 5 kilos."

"So I could still lift you up without any problem. Noted."

Yoongi chuckles. "Yeah. As if."

Feeling confident, Jungkook flexes his bicep, gently but enough for Yoongi to start laughing louder. "You want to tell me you don't trust these?"

"You are so fucking embarrassing," Yoongi manages between breathless giggles. Jungkook had no idea a person could look cute shaking uncontrollably while also almost falling down their chair. Yoongi does.  "I can't believe it."

"Yeah? Well, so are you. Now come on. We're going somewhere else."

The walk to the bar is a short one, and when they're inside they find a quieter place at the back of the local, on two high and not the most comfortable bar stools, set so they face the window. It's nice, how the street lights seep inside, especially when they make Yoongi's eyes shine that much brighter.

They sip on their drinks and talk, skipping from one topic to another without much order. It flows smoothly, one thing connects with the other, which leads to a third and it's so easy to hold a conversation with Yoongi. Jungkook doesn't quite know what it is, but they’re on the same wavelength, clicking with each other so cleanly that Jungkook can feel it as a physical thing inside him.

The drink starts to get into Jungkook's head, not much, but enough to loosen him up even more, crack really stupid jokes that have Yoongi laughing until his eyes get teary and, Jungkook doesn't know if he should be grateful or not, to become very aware of every time Yoongi's body touches his.

He's no longer sure if it's his imagination or not, but he can feel Yoongi inching closer to him as the time passes, to the point that he feels Yoongi's knee brushing his own, his shoulder pressing to his. Yoongi’s palm touches Jungkook's thigh everytime he wants to get his attention or when something makes him laugh, and then, seemingly without any reason at all, and Jungkook feels every of Yoongi's fingers that press to the inseam of his jeans, every slight move of them.

Yoongi's close and warm and so.... there, right next to him, that Jungkook’s mind spins a bit.

Yoongi excuses himself to the bathroom at some point, and once he's alone, Jungkook lies his head on the table, trying to gather his thoughts. It doesn't feel like any of the previous dates he’s had, ("He didn't even call it a date, calm the fuck down, Jungkook," a voice in his head reminds him), it's not just the fluttery feeling in your stomach once you start to like somebody. What Jungkook feels reaches so much deeper within him, to places he's never knew existed before he met Yoongi. It feels like something has been buried inside his heart, so deep it stayed forgotten all this time. But now, every fast beat inside his chest reminds Jungkook that it, whatever it is, still exists there, stronger than ever before. It flows in his veins, his blood's imbued with it, his fingertips burning with how overwhelming it is.

And then a buzz. Buzz buzz that goes straight to Jungkook's ear that touches the cold table.

He lifts his head and sees that Yoongi left his phone there. It lights up with a text message. Jungkook doesn't try to peek but before he can turn his eyes away from the screen he catches the message in all caps and with way too many exclamation marks.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

Oh.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat.

Oh.

It's Yoongi's birthday today.

Jungkook's thoughts go crazy.

They're spending it together and Jungkook didn't even know and he's not prepared at all and he doesn't have a gift of anything that could be a gift and he didn't even wish him anything and... Should he even let him know that he knows?

Jungkook hopes he looks more or less normal and unbothered when Yoongi comes back.

"You got a text," he prompts.

Yoongi takes his phone and smiles when he sees the message. He types a short reply, his fingers tapping the screen quickly, and then puts it away, without saying a word. But Jungkook's curious and tipsy too, and he feels way too honest right now to pretend anything. He says,

"You didn't say it's your birthday." Yoongi glances at him surprised and then averts his eyes. "Sorry! I didn't want to be nosy, I saw the text by accident," Jungkook adds.

"It's okay. I just," Yoongi shrugs, "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"Aren't birthday supposed to be a big deal?"

Yoongi snorts. "What are you? In grade school?"

"No. But it's fun when people are nice to you and all."

"You were nice even when you didn't know."

It catches Jungkook off guard for a second. He feels his lips stretching with a smile before he says, "Then I should be even nicer now."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "You don't have to. I like it just as it is."

"If you told me I would buy you a present, you know? Maybe get some flowers and balloons too."

Yoongi just laughs. "God, I'm glad I didn't say anything then."

"Come on. I can forget about the balloons but I'm pretty sure there's a rule that a birthday doesn't count without a cake."

"I'm positive you just made that up."

"No. I'm sure it exists."

"You really are a kid," Yoongi says and doesn't stop laughing when Jungkook takes his hand and drags him out of the bar.

Once they step outside, Jungkook’s mind clears up a bit with the cold air. He still holds Yoongi’s hand, pulling him few steps behind himself. He doesn't plan to let go and Yoongi doesn't seem to mind.

"Where the fuck are we going, Jungkook?"

"To get a cake."

"The bakeries are closed, you idiot."

"Then a 24/7 convenience shop’s gotta be enough."

They find one still opened shop after walking around the streets for nearly fifteen minutes, both stumbling from time to time and laughing at each other’s clumsiness. The cashier inside gives them exactly one look, too tired to even care, and then doesn't pay any attention to the weird shuffling they execute between the rows. The cake they find looks like it's packed with enough preservatives to make it survive at least a whole year, maybe ten. It's covered with pink icing and the letters written next to the smiling bunny read "Happy Easter" but Jungkook decides it's going to work anyways.

"Have you seen candles anywhere?" Jungkook asks. He still hasn't let go of Yoongi's hand. It's warm and fits well against his. He wants to hold it all the time.

"You must be fucking kidding me right now."

"Nope. I'm gonna be nice and put just one instead of twenty seven like I should."

They find the candles, throw some plastic knives and forks there as well, even managing to find paper plates to complete everything. Jungkook beams when he pays for it and the cashier doesn't even blink an eye.

They find a bench nearby a small park and settle there with everything. It takes a while until Jungkook manages to open the plastic packages, using his teeth as a last resort, and then carefully sets everything up. Yoongi doesn't help much, just looks at him, still whining a bit but unable to hold back his smile.

"Okay, I just need a lighter now," Jungkook says once he's done with sticking the candle right in the middle of cake bunny’s face.

Yoongi hands him one he had hidden in the pocket of his jacket. "I still can't believe you're doing this.

"You better believe it," Jungkook says, a bit distracted with the way Yoongi's eyes reflect the warm, orange light of the candle. The little specks of gold hidden in the deep brown of his irises become so visible now. "And make a wish too."

Jungkook picks the cake and holds it right under Yoongi's nose. Yoongi sighs but doesn't complain. He blows the candle out reluctantly.

"Did you make a wish?"

"I can't tell you."

"Fair enough. I hope it was something nice."

Yoongi nods. "Can we try this thing now?"

They cut it the best they can using the blunt plastic knives. Yoongi gets the piece with the "PPY TER" part and Jungkook takes one with half of the bunny’s body. It feels like something taken from a different reality, Jungkook thinks, to sit like that, munching on a cake at almost 2 am, sitting in the middle of the completely empty street with only the streetlight above their heads and a mess of paper plates scattered on the pavement under their feet.

"I don't want to be rude or anything because you paid for it," Yoongi mumbles, with his mouth still full of cake. "But I feel like I'm gonna barf as soon as I finish this."

Jungkook laughs, as much as he can, chewing on the dry and awful sugary mass. "Don’t feel bad, this shit's disgusting."

Yoongi swallows, visibly suffering. "Glad we agree on that. But I appreciate the gesture."

"Yeah? I thought you hated it."

"No, I um... It was really nice. Thank you."

A beat.

"I'm glad I spent the evening with you," Yoongi says quietly. The moment gets less silly suddenly, but closer to intimate even, and Jungkook feels his heart speeding up in his chest.

"But why me? I mean, I'm glad too! I'm just... I thought you’d prefer to be with your closer friends. Or something."

Yoongi leans against the bench more comfortably and tilts his head up so he can look at the night sky. "I told you that I moved here not so long ago, right?"

"Yeah. You got grumpy when I laughed that you've been using a cardboard box as a coffee table for two weeks."

"I still am and it's not funny."

"Then set up your furniture maybe. Just a suggestion."

"You're such a brat," Yoongi snorts. He gives himself a moment before continuing, "My closest friend lives in my hometown which is pretty far from here so we don't see each other that often. I like some people at work but, you now, just at work. Not in a way that I want to spend time with them."

Jungkook feels something funny tingling at the bottom of his stomach. He smiles. "But you wanted to spend time with me?"

Yoongi tilts his head so their eyes meet and a  shiver runs down Jungkook's spine. It's nothing, Yoongi's not doing anything more than just looking at him, that's all. Then why does it have such an effect on Jungkook, why does it feel like he can't take his eyes off Yoongi?

"Yeah." A shrug. "I like being with you."

Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes away from Jungkook and something that must be just a couple of seconds feels so much longer, like the time stopped its flow to capture that moment. All of a sudden, Jungkook’s aware of how silent everything around them is. No blare of traffic or sirens of an ambulance, no conversations or steps on the pavement. Nothing but the two of them, nothing that would matter now except from Yoongi in front of him, within his reach, with his sleepy eyes and his lazy smile spreading across his face that Jungkook wants to see over and over again.

He wants to move, to lean in, he wants to…. He doesn’t even know what, but suddenly the distance between them is unbearable, the empty space becoming a burden that Jungkook wants to destroy until they’re close, closer, close enough to feel the warmth of Yoongi’s skin.

But then Yoongi moves, reaches for the mess of plastic packages left lying on the bench, the rustle disturbing the silence around them. The moment’s gone.

“You want to finish this maybe?” Yoongi asks, pointing at the cake.

“Hell no. Let’s just throw it away.”

Yoongi laughs, short and breathy, and then stands up, collecting all the things scattered around them. Once he’s done and everything ends up in the trash bin nearby, he turns at Jungkook looking hesitant.

“It’s probably around two, right? You should go back home.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Do you live far away from here? I could call you an uber or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not far.”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah, okay. I’m going to walk too, it’s not far either.”

“Can I walk you home then?”

Yoongi agrees.

They don’t talk much on their way and Jungkook thinks it would feel nice to hold Yoongi’s hand again but Yoongi keeps them hidden in his pockets the whole time it takes to get to the apartment building. It’s closer to the library than Jungkook expected.

When they end up in front of the entrance door, Jungkook feels awkward. He doesn’t know if he should just turn around and walk back home or stay where he is in case Yoongi wants to say or do anything. He kind of… stands there, waiting for Yoongi to make a move first.

“You know, we went through this whole mess with the cake and you still haven't wished me a happy birthday. Rude,” Yoongi says, jokingly.

“I haven’t?”

“Nope.”

“Happy birthday then.”

Yoongi snorts but his eyes soften. “Thanks.”

Jungkook doesn't think much after that. He steps closer, leans in. He presses his lips to Yoongi’s cheek, kissing him chaste and gentle, too afraid to allow himself anything more. He doesn't pull back immediately after, but nuzzles his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, feeling how hot his skin is, how fast his pulse beats under the touch of Jungkook's mouth. He moves his hands to Yoongi’s back, presses his palms to his shoulderblades.

He feels Yoongi’s arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer and then simply resting there, his hands warm and steady on the small of Jungkook’s back. Jungkook's heart pounds hard, blood rushes through his veins fast, faster, too fast.

“I had fun with you today,” Yoongi mutters.

Jungkook’s suddenly diving in pure euphoria, all-consuming, overwhelming happiness that erases everything else.

“Yeah, me too.”

He’s ready to let it drown him.

“Could you play it once more?”

Yoongi sighs. He looks at Jungkook a bit concerned before he answers, “I don’t want you to be late for your train.”

“Please. Just one last time.”

Yoongi gives in. His fingers rest on the keyboard and the room fills with the melody once more.

Jungkook knows it by heart already but he still can’t believe how perfectly it captures everything he’s felt all this time. He has no idea how Yoongi managed to create something that expresses the countless hours of longing that Jungkook suffered through before they met. How can music tell everything he’s unable to put into words on his own, how is it possible for a melody to feel like it understands him?

He doesn’t know how he can feel so certain that the person in front of him is the one he’s always been waiting for. And really, he doesn’t want to find out. He doesn’t need to understand, as long as Yoongi stays close to him. Now, and forever after that.

March 13th

When Yoongi pushes the book towards him across the desk, Jungkook doesn’t know what to feel. There’s the excitement he expected, as his fingers touch the old, tattered cover and satisfaction as he flips through the yellowish pages. But there’s a sharp bite of something cold and aching too, something that only deepens when he hears Yoongi’s low voice.

“Here you go. I hope it’ll be worth the wait.”

Jungkook skims through the pages once more because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“I can take it home now?” Jungkook asks foolishly, with no reason other than wanting to say anything at all.

Yoongi snorts. “Yeah, you can. Have fun with it.”

Jungkook nods, realizing how uncomfortably stiff  his muscles have gotten. He hides the book in his backpack and when he looks at Yoongi again, he feels an unpleasant pang in his chest. The atmosphere between them seems weirdly tense, like they both have something to say yet none of them want to be the first to do so. It’s strange, that feeling like something has ended, even though Jungkook knows that it’s nothing more than just an illusion. He can still be here as often as he wishes for, meet Yoongi as often as he likes to. But now, somehow, it feels like one of his excuses for it is no longer there.

“Hey,” Yoongi starts again, hesitantly. He looks like he wanted to say something else but changed his mind in the last second and instead decided for a simple, “I hope you’ll find what you’ve been looking for.”

Jungkook keeps looking. He searches for them as he walks through the crowded academy halls, skimming through the faces of strangers and hoping to finally see the right one. He tries to recognize them in new models he draws, new teachers he sees, every random passerby. But no matter how many different people he meets, how many of them he befriends, it never truly clicks.

“What if I don’t find them?” he asks Taehyung one day, with his face pressed to the pillow, words slipping past his lips almost unconsciously, as he waits for sleep to overtake him.

The moment of silence lingers around their dorm, Taehyung apparently not understanding the question right away.

“I thought you didn’t believe in soulmates,” he mutters finally with a hint of a smile in his sleepy voice.

“I don’t know anymore,” Jungkook mumbles. “What about you? Have you found yours?”

He closes his eyes, breaths in the smell of his sheets, vaguely registering the squeaky sound of springs as Taehyung shifts on his bed.

“Not yet.”

“So does it feel like that for you too?

The sheets rustle and Jungkook thinks Taehyung must have turned towards him. Then, a silent yawn before,

“Like what?”

“Like you’re constantly missing them. No matter what you’re doing, you’re still thinking about them, even without realizing.”

Taehyung hums with agreement.  “Sometimes.”

Jungkook drifts off slowly, his thoughts getting messier and messier with each of his deep, steady breaths.

“There are moments,” he says against his pillow, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

That night, Jungkook dreams of concert halls with walls inwrought with gold and crystal chandeliers. He hears the sound of clapping, loud and clear, almost as if he was really there, surrounded by all of these people who are looking at the stage, with their eyes focused on the grand piano standing in the middle of it.

March 14th

The book is thin, 200 pages at best, with some illustrations and music sheets here and there. Jungkook flips through the pages, feeling the raising anticipation with every approaching line of text. He never tries to expect too much, always ready for another disappointment, but this book feels different and Jungkook can’t help but allow himself to be hopeful like he hadn’t been in a very long time.

He goes through more and more names he’s never heard of before, names of  composers that got lost in history, whose talents shined like a firework in the dark sky of fame only to fade out moments later. He reads about those that were never truly appreciated in their times but are rediscovered now, as their works are finally dusted off the thick layer of oblivion.

Jungkook tries to stay focused but his thoughts wander. He thinks about the way Yoongi looked at him earlier that day, with something similar to sadness, nearly unnoticeable, hidden in his dark eyes.

Jungkook knows that nothing between them has ended. He’s not even sure if something has even started. For all of this time, they haven’t exchanged phone numbers and since Yoongi didn’t strike Jungkook as a big social media fan, Jungkook hasn't even tried to search for his profile anywhere.

But after Yoongi’s birthday something had changed between them. It wasn’t a big shift but still, it existed, like they’ve crossed some invisible line of “just acquaintances” and stepped into the new ground of whatever relationship they have now.

The way Yoongi’s eyes linger longer on Jungkook, all the subtle, innocent touches they share during their breaks. The lack of distance between them when they sit on the bench, small brushes of knees under the table, that smirk that Yoongi gives him from time to time, the one that makes Jungkook’s chest feel funny. It’s all there, and Jungkook holds on to every little moment, saving it in a special place in his heart and surrounding it with fondness, even though he’s still not sure what to do with all of it.

All he knows is that his heart aches at the very idea of never seeing Yoongi again.

He flips the page and his eyes focus on the sheet of music lying peacefully on it. Jungkook can’t read music. The little notes floating on the lines don’t tell him a single thing. He could look at them for days and still be clueless. But this one’s different.

Jungkook knows the handwriting, recognizes the messiness of it, he remembers the elegance of treble clefs and clumsiness of the lines connecting the notes. He looks at the caption below but the only things that reach his mind through the wave of excitement are the name of the composer and the words “unpublished,” and “untitled.”

With his shaky fingers, he reaches for his phone, types the composer’s name in the search bar. He finds a short biography, just a few simple sentences describing the short years between his birth and death. But except from few titles, there’s no records, nothing that Jungkook could play and finally hear. Nothing except from the feeling in his heart that would prove that he’s found what he’s been looking for.

He opens his contacts list instead. Picks Namjoon’s name from it.

Faintly, Jungkook’s still aware of the slow beat of the drum and the longing sound of the trumpet. He still registers the way the lights on the stage fade out and the way the silence falls around the stuffy room as Seokjin starts to sing the first verse. But Jungkook’s not focused on him, instead keeping his eyes locked on Seokjin’s friend who’s standing alone in the back.

He leans against the wall, nursing a drink in his hand. In the dim lights of the club, his skin looks pale, creating a pretty contrast with the blackness of his messy hair. His eyes are focused on the stage, observing Seokjin's performance with a little smile at the corners of his lips. From his place at the bar, Jungkook watches how he tilts his head to the side, notices the sharp line of his jaw, the faint sheen of sweat on the exposed skin of his neck. Jungkook's nails dig into his own palm involuntarily.

"My god," Jimin’s sudden appearance makes Jungkook flinch. "Subtlety was never your strong suit."

Jungkook blinks a few times to bring himself back and swallows. "What are you talking about?"

"Every time he's here," Jimin points at the man, the glass he's holding sloshing dangerously as he gestures, "you can't take those big eyes of yours away from him."

Jungkook averts his eyes, feeling the uncomfortable heat of embarrassment. Jimin's right and any kind of denial would be useless anyway. Yet Jungkook’s still hoping he's not being that obvious.

"Do you know him? I mean... have you met him before?" Jungkook finally asks.

"Hm? No. Seokjin mentioned him to me a few times but I met him few weeks ago, the same day you did."

"So he hasn't been here before that?"

"I don't think so? At least I've never seen him around here. Why?"

For weeks, Jungkook wasn't able to shake off the weird feeling that he's seen him before. No matter how many times he’s tried to push the thoughts about him away, it never quite works. They're constantly stuck at the back of his head, taking over Jungkook's mind more and more every time he sees him at the club, sometimes to the point where he's all Jungkook can think about.

Jungkook shrugs. "No reason."

"No reason, sure." Jimin bites back his sly smile and turns away from Jungkook to look at the man instead. "He seems too grumpy for my taste but you do you," he chugs his drink in one single gulp, "or him 'cause it looks like that's what you want."

Jimin laughs as he ducks from Jungkook’s attempt to hit him. "I'm just teasing you! But really, what are you waiting for? Go there and talk to him before I decide to be your very embarrassing wingman."

"I'm busy."

"No, you're not."

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs. “Just, please, don’t show up to help me out, okay?”

“Well, as long as I know you’re not embarrassing yourself I’ll be right where I stand. But I’ll come to save you if I notice you doing something pathetic.”

When Jungkook makes his way to the back of the room, his palms get sweaty and his stomach aches in a sort of clenching and unsettling way. He has no idea how somebody’s presence, especially of someone who’s pretty much a stranger, can affect him like that. He tries not to dwell on it too much though, as he finally stands next to him and leans against the wall, trying to look as casual as he can force himself to be.

“Hey,” he says because there’s nothing else he can think of to start the conversation.

Seokjin’s friend turns to him and his eyes light up with recognition. He smiles politely. “Hello.”

“Is everything okay?” Jungkook asks and instantly regrets it. “I mean,” he tries to add, “are you enjoying the show and, um, your drink?”

Good job. He can really pat himself on the back for that one.

The man looks at him unsure but after a second his smile turns more sly than before. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Jungkook glances at the glass he’s holding and the golden brown liquid inside. “I see you replaced water with something stronger this time,” he says, assuming it must be whiskey that the other’s drinking.

“It could be an innocent ice-tea,” he answers, making the ice cubes in the glass rattle, “who knows.”

Jungkook laughs. Hearing the slight slur in his voice, Jungkook would still bet his money on the alcohol though.

After that, they both fell silent, quietly observing Seokjin’s performance. Jungkook grows more and more agitated with every passing minute and after a while he can’t stop himself from blurting out,

“Sorry, I know it will sound weird. But I can’t help but feel that I’ve met you before.”

He doesn’t even realize that he holds his breath as he waits for an answer. The man laughs, in a quiet and breathy way. Just then, the song ends and loud clapping begins. He pulls at Jungkook’s sleeve to bring him closer so his voice is heard through the noise.

“You know,” Jungkook catches the scent of his cologne, something expensive as far as he can tell. He feels a bit lightheaded. “Even if I saw you for the first time tonight, this would still be a weak pick up line.”

“What,” Jungkook stutters, “no, that’s not what I meant! Not that I wouldn’t like to pick you up!” he laughs nervously, wondering if he should send some mental vibrations to Jimin to come and save him, “Wait, I didn’t want to say that.”

A laugh again. “Don’t worry. I can still go with that. So,” his finger starts tracing the rim of his glass, “we saw each other twice already and you feel like you’ve met me before. Hmm, how very mysterious.”

He’s not making fun of Jungkook and if his smirk means anything, then it’s a playful teasing. Completed with the look he gives him, Jungkook might even hesitantly label it as flirting.

Jungkook swallows hard. “I know we’ve seen each other in the club already. But I feel like I’ve met you long before you showed up here with Seokjin.”

The man hums, low and attractive. “I see. Sorry to disappoint but I’m sure I haven’t seen you before that. I’d remember it.” He takes a sip and Jungkook can’t force himself to look away from his lips as he licks them. “But better later than never, right?"

And then he smiles, and for the first time, it’s more than just a curved line of his lips. It’s a cute, wide grin that makes his whole face light up and the corners of his eyes crinkle and Jungkook feels like he’s falling.

March 14th

me 6:55pm

are you in the studio?

namjoon 6:56pm

yes, why?

me 6:56pm

ill be there in 15 mins

namjoon 6:56pm

ok... is everything alright?

namjoon 7:01pm

jungkook??

Fact five: Jung Hoseok’s feelings are reciprocated.

Jungkook presses the doorbell and waits. It takes a while before he hears a faint shuffling on the other side of the door and then a sound like Yoongi tripped over something in the hall. When he finally opens the door, his hair's a mess and his t-shirt is put on backwards like he hurried with it, the label sticking out between his collarbones.

"Am I too early?" Jungkook asks.

"Nah. Come on in."

He takes a look around the living room and notices the mess of take out food containers and unwashed dishes in the sink. Then,the  two empty glasses left on the coffee table and a small stack of VHS packages from the video rental store nearby.

It's cute. Feels homey.

Hoseok's sitting on the counter and smiles as he greets Jungkook, waving his legs lazily from side to side. His look matches Yoongi's, his feet bare, shirt worn and too wide at his shoulders to fit him properly. He jumps down on the floor, takes a white food container and pads through the room to settle on the couch next to Jungkook.

"We ate before, but here's one for you," he says, pushing the box into Jungkook's hands. "Eat. We rented some awful B class movies and you need strength to suffer through them with us."

It's always like this. Hoseok's kind and had quickly started to care about Jungkook just as much as Yoongi does. Sometimes Jungkook doesn't know what to do with the warmth that Hoseok radiates. How to accept it, how to pay him back for it. He takes the box that smells like his favorite food, and mutters a quiet thank you.

They watch the movies and all of them turn out to be the most ridiculous things Jungkook's ever seen. Yoongi enjoys them the most, laughing so hard that Jungkook can feel how his body shakes with the force of it.

It’s good. They have fun. Jungkook’s having fun.

The final scene of the last movie fades out into the black credits screen with cheesy ominous music playing in the background. For a moment, they just stare at it, without saying a word, recovering from the shock.

“Did that really just happen?” Hoseok mutters. “Did we stay up until 3 am watching a movie about a bed that eats people? What the fuck.”

This starts another laughing attack for Yoongi, who doesn’t even try to fight it. He’s reached the point where his laughs come out silent and he nearly bowls right off the couch as he curls into himself, hand solidly holding his stomach.

“Yeah, keep laughing. It was the last time I let you pick the movies. God.” Hoseok gets up from the couch and gets on his tiptoes to stretch, raising his arms above his head with a little groan. “Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”

“You sure?” Yoongi says with a grin. “After all you’ve just seen?”

“Nice try. Even I’m not scared of this shit,” Hoseok snorts. He leans in to kiss Yoongi goodnight and the way Yoongi tilts his head to meet his lips seems almost out of reflex, like they’ve done it enough times to remember every movement by heart. “Don’t stay up for too long, you two.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yoongi answers with a little smile. “Night.”

“Oh, by the way,” Hoseok adds on his way to the bedroom, turning towards Jungkook. “You can sleep in my room instead of here, if you prefer.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, just nods, watching how the door to Yoongi’s room closes behind Hoseok. He feels a pang of something clutching his chest, something far from simple jealousy, he’s never felt that about the situation. It’s more of an emptiness, like a hollow inside him from losing something he’s never truly had in the first place.

“Should we clean up?” he asks, mostly to distract himself.

“That’s the problem for future us,” Yoongi answers.

They stay sprawled on the couch, Yoongi’s side pressed against Jungkook, the weight of his body well-known and familiar. After a while, Yoongi’s breathing turns steady and he leans further against Jungkook, resting his head on Jungkook’s shoulder unknowingly.

Yoongi’s scent reminds Jungkook of nuzzling up to a pile of freshly dried laundry or inhaling deeply with his face pressed closely to clean sheets. Like stepping inside a house after a cold winter day, Yoongi’s warmth envelopes Jungkook. Every breath Jungkook draws smells like him, his presence so painfully overwhelming that Jungkook can’t think of anything else.

So he lets go. He closes his eyes and breaths in, allowing himself to forget, just for a short moment, that Yoongi feels like a home he’s never going to be a part of.

March 14th

Jungkook doesn’t even think about knocking before he bursts into the small space of Namjoon’s studio. Namjoon flinches in his chair and turns around abruptly to face him.

“What the hell, Jungkook?” He pulls his headphones down to hang loosely around his neck, casting a suspicious look at him. “Did you run here?”

Jungkook nods. He bends down and rests his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. “Could you,” he pants, “could you play something for me?”

When his breathing finally evens, he places the book on Namjoon’s desk and points at the page. Namjoon looks at it, definitely worried and just a bit scared.

“Okay… Why all this hurry, though? I could record it and send it to you later or something.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No. No, it has to be now. I need to hear it now.”

Namjoon eyes the music notes. “What even is this?” he asks, flipping a few pages back and forth. “Why it’s so important?”

“It’s kind of a long story. And I don’t think you would believe me anyway.”

Jungkook’s glad Namjoon decides not to go further into that.

“But, why me? I’m sure you could find it somewhere, right? It’s not that I don’t want to help you but you know that my piano skills are kinda… rusty.”

“I searched already and didn’t find anything,” Jungkook cuts in, feeling more and more inpatient now that he knows it’s so close to him. He points his finger at the caption below the music sheet. “It says that it was never officially published, it was found in someone’s private collection years later. I don’t know if someone ever performed it or if there’s a recording somewhere and I couldn’t find it. But could you just… try? I don’t know anyone beside you that’s good at this stuff.”

Namjoon blinks at him few times. He still looks lost, but the confusion written on his face slowly turns into silent acceptance. “Yeah, okay, okay. Give me a few moments.”

Jungkook beams. He observes how Namjoon rolls his chair closer to the keyboard and then focuses on the book with a slight furrow of his eyebrows.  The excitement nearly shakes Jungkook’s entire body as he paces around the small room, waiting for Namjoon to start.

“Don’t you want to sit down, maybe?” Namjoon says, pointing at the small couch in the corner of the room.

“I’m good.”

“I’m glad. But it’s still a little bit distracting.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Jungkook mutters. He sits down but his leg keeps bouncing up and down and he can’t force himself to stop.

It doesn’t take much longer before Namjoon’s hands hover over the keyboard and he says quietly, “Just… don’t count on any Mozart quality, yeah?”

First note. Then the second. And Jungkook already knows.

It starts out simply, pleasantly slow and delicate, each note separated by a short pause. Then, the melody speeds up, and without losing its sweetness, smoothly turns into something different. Something much richer now, as the innocence mixes with sorrow and happiness gets tangled with yearning.

Every single note carries the weight of feelings that Jungkook has always felt, yet could never manage to put into words. The music reaches somewhere deep within him, gripping tightly on all of his hidden emotions and pulling them out of there until they surface. Goosebumps cover his arms, as the piece reaches its climax, so desperately passionate now, filled to the brink with emotions.

In his mind, Jungkook can see Yoongi’s eyes looking at him, soft with love and sparkling with happiness. He feels Yoongi’s hands around his waist and his warm breath tickling his ear. Jungkook’s lips tingle with the memories of Yoongi’s sweet kisses and his heart pounds just as fast as it done before, as it always did, right from the very beginning.

He’s never felt it as sharply and vividly as he does now. And he’s never been so sure that all of the images he sees were once real, just as much as Namjoon and his stuffy studio are right now.

A plateau. Music fades out into silence.

Jungkook blinks his eyes, only now realizing they’re full of tears that spill on his cheeks, hot and tickling as they reach his chin.

“Oh man...” Namjoon glances at him, worried. He looks around awkwardly until he grabs the box of tissues lying on his desk and offers it to Jungkook. “Was I that bad?”

His eyes only widen when Jungkook giggles.

“You were great,” Jungkook sniffs, “It almost sounded the way I remember it.”

“Wait. What do you mean remember it ?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, doesn’t even listen when Namjoon asks him more and more questions. He rubs his face one final time before he gets up. His body feels light, like it never did before and his mind is clear, focused on the only thought that matters right now.

“Thank you,” he says quickly, already approaching the door. He swings it open with enough force to make it hit the wall behind it. “Thank you so much!"

“Jungkook?!” he hears Namjoon’s voice echoing around the corridor but he doesn’t turn to look at him. “Where the fuck are you going now?”

Jungkook speeds up until he’s running, faster and faster. The exit getting closer and closer, until he’s pushing at the doors, stepping outside into the cold air. He yells, even though he isn’t sure if Namjoon will still hear him,

“There’s someone I need to see!”

The train rolls into the platform, slow and heavy, the screech against the rails blaring loud enough for Jungkook to feel it in his chest. His stomach clenches uncomfortably and his fingers squeeze the handle of his suitcase. He doesn’t want to go back home. Or rather, to the building he’s been forced to call home.

He already has someone he belongs with. Standing right in front of him.

“Here,” Yoongi says, giving Jungkook a small envelope. “I know your skills are enough to play it on your own.”

Jungkook peeks inside, noticing Yoongi’s messy handwriting, the cute circles of his quavers and bulky beams. He throws his arms around Yoongi’s neck, pressing their chests close together. He tries to fight it back but the tears still roll down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Hey, don’t cry, kid,” Yoongi says gently. “You’ll make my clothes wet.”

Jungkook lets out a weak sound, something between a giggle and a sob.

“Do you have to go?” Yoongi continues.

“I do,” Jungkook answers, his voice coming out small and shaky because of the burn in his throat. “But I’ll come back soon. Really soon, I promise.”

They pull back enough to look at each other. Yoongi’s eyes focus on Jungkook’s face like he’s examining it, searching for something. He reaches his hand to wipe one tear that still clings to Jungkook’s eyelashes and brushes his cheek with the most fleeting touch. Jungkook feels the urge to grab his hand and hold it there, press it closer to his skin. But before he can do anything, Yoongi backs his hand. He smiles, but the sadness doesn't disappear from his eyes.

“I’ll be waiting then.”

March 14th

Jungkook doesn’t even notice that his lungs burn with every breath he takes. He keeps running, without paying any attention to the people giving him odd looks as he passes them.

He can’t believe how easy the answer was. How stupid he was to miss that he found it right in the moment that he saw Yoongi’s eyes.

The library building peeks around the corner and Jungkook speeds up even more, feeling how effortlessly his legs move under him, how light his steps hit against the pavement.

He doesn’t know what to tell Yoongi once he sees him. How to explain that he’s finally found someone he’s been missing his whole life. But Jungkook doesn’t think about it now.

Without stopping, he reaches for his phone and glances at the screen. Below over 12 texts from Namjoon calling him names the clock shows 7:46pm. He can still catch Yoongi before he leaves to go home.

Between his shaky breaths, Jungkook promises himself not to lose him again.

Months pass. Taehyung graduates, leaving Jungkook alone for the next two years he has left in school. But time passes quickly, and one semester turns into four and sooner than he expected, Jungkook’s a graduated artist without any good idea what to do with his life next.

Months turn into years and Jungkook… lives. Simply and quietly, far away from any fame or recognition, he skips from one day to another, following the simple routine he sets for himself. He doesn’t feel bad but he’s not too happy either, rather he’s stuck somewhere in between the two.

And no matter how much time passes, he keeps looking for his soulmate, without losing hope and keeping his friend’s words in mind.

Once you meet them, you’ll know.

One day, during the usual late walk home, he finally finds him.

There are two of them, younger than Jungkook, just stupid kids that must have took a wrong step at one point of their lives. They want money and Jungkook gives them everything he has on himself without much protest. But he’s kind too, offers help in case they need it and that’s what they don’t like. After that, everything happens quickly, the blade flashes once before it sinks into Jungkook’s body, one, two, three times, and then the world starts to spin.

What if Jungkook took a different road?

“What the fuck are you looking at!?” Jungkook manages to hear a distant voice. “Go get some help!” He doesn’t exactly hear his footsteps but feels their vibrations against the pavement as the man gets closer.

What if he hadn't gone out at all that night, just stayed at home as he always does, engrossed with work, buried under tons of loose papers and brushes?

He presses his hands to the wound in his stomach but he doesn't have enough strength to keep the pressure up. His breathing comes out in rapid little rasps, each one of them sending a new wave of pain to flow through his entire body. His mouth's full of a metallic taste and he coughs some of the blood, staining the pavement red.

"Fuck," Jungkook hears the voice again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, what do I fucking do?"

Jungkook blinks his eyes open with difficulty and sees a man kneeling next to him, his hands pressing to Jungkook's stomach.

"Hey, do you hear me? You’re gonna be fine, yeah? I'm gonna call for help and we'll fix you up, okay? Just," he takes Jungkook's hands in his own and forces him to press them to the wound harder, "fuck, just don't die on me kid, don't you fucking dare die here."

Kid, Jungkook's mind echoes.

He manages to focus on man's face to see he's scared, so scared. The fear's written all over his features. Shining in his teary eyes, vibrating in his shaky fingers.

But Jungkook still recognizes the smooth slope of his nose and the arc of his lips. His adam's apple that moves with little stifled sobs. And those eyes, the ones that were always looking back at Jungkook from the portraits.

Finally, Jungkook thinks, before he lets his eyelids close.

"No, hey, don’t close your eyes, keep looking at me!"

It's okay. It's just for a moment. He'll open his eyes after a short while to see him again.

"Don't," his voice wavers before one last, "Please, don't."

And then silence.

The last thought that Jungkook’s aware of before everything turns to black, is how Taehyung will never know that he was right all this time, that the person was real, that soulmates are real.

March 14th

Once he steps past the library’s threshold, Jungkook runs straight to the elevator, completely ignoring the offended locker room lady yelling at him that he needs to leave his jacket first. He pushes the button one, two, six times hoping it will magically make it go faster but in the end, he gives up and chooses to use the stairs instead.

He makes it to the 3rd floor, pushes the door labeled with "Literature, Music and Art" open and walks inside, his rapid breathing even louder in the silence of the room. He passes the bookshelf rows and approaches the circulation desk, but doesn’t find Yoongi anywhere. His heart sinks, a panic slowly seeping into him, but then the backroom door opens with a click.

“Jungkook?”

Yoongi stares at him, his pretty mouth parted slightly with surprise. One look at him is enough for the anxiety in Jungkook’s chest to wash away, replaced by the sudden wave of relief.

“What the hell are you doing here? How did you even manage to come inside at this hour?”

Jungkook can feel the judging look of Yoongi’s eyes as he scans his body, from his chest heaving with quick breaths, to his neck glistening with sweat, and higher again, up to the hair sticking to his forehead.

“Did you... run here?”

After Jungkook’s nod, Yoongi’s eyebrows rise even more.

“Why?”

“It was quicker than waiting for the bus.”

“Sure... So, did you need something or?”

“I wanted to see you,” Jungkook answers honestly, not caring much for any excuses anymore. Not being able to stay in one place, he takes a few steps closer to Yoongi but, in this moment, the distance between them still feels like an abyss.

“Oh. Um... Okay... Well,” Yoongi raises his arms a bit and the only thing that’s missing to complete the picture is the “tada!” sound effect, “here I am.”

Jungkook has to gather all of his strong will not to wrap his arms around him. The way Yoongi looks up at him through his lashes, blinking with confusion, the slight blush coloring his cheeks and pouty lips are making every inch of Jungkook’s body burn with the need to hold him close. The power of his presence alone, the force he radiates, that has been attracting Jungkook closer and closer is nearly overwhelming now. Really, Jungkook stood no chance opposing it. But then again, why would he even want to try?

“Honestly, though,” Yoongi starts. “Are you okay? You seem kind of, um, agitated.”

“Everything's fine, don’t worry,” Jungkook beams. It’s the first time in his life that Jungkook feels absolute clarity. There’s no more doubts, no more questions to struggle with. Now, with Yoongi next to him, things become so… simple. So he asks the simplest question that comes to his mind. “When do you finish work?”

“I’ve already finished. I was about to leave but you kind of… popped out of nowhere.”

“Can I walk you home then?”

Yoongi’s eyes soften.

“Shouldn’t it be my turn now?”

Jungkook waits patiently for every chance he gets to see him. Every evening, he looks around the club, scanning through anonymous faces and hoping to see the familiar silhouette. Within the crowd or next to Seokjin, holding a glass that sparkles in the dim lights or with a cigarette between his fingers, his presence is distinct, standing out among the dull background of other guests.

When Jungkook approaches him for a talk, even though he feels dazed, it’s easy, balancing on the edge of flirting. It’s always a bit of a game to see who’ll take the lead, who’ll make the other avert his eyes with shyness, who’ll lean in closer first.

“I’m serious when I say that you should perform,” Yoongi says one night. There’s only a few other guests left in the club but for Jungkook it could be empty all the same. Yoongi’s the only person he can focus on anyway. “You never believe me but you have a great voice. Would be even better if you worked on it.”

Jungkook feels his cheeks warming up. “You’re just being nice, aren’t you?”

Yoongi snorts. “No, I hate fake flattery.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’d be good at it.”

“What? Singing?”

“No, just,” Jungkook points vaguely at the currently empty stage, “the rest of it. Standing in front of people with everyone’s eyes on you. Seems scary.”

“You’re already dealing with them, aren’t you?”

“Yeah but it’s different. Walking among the tables, I blend in. But when you stand there, you’re in the spotlight. I feel like I’d throw up before I could even make any sound.”

Yoongi laughs. “Don’t put yourself down like that. I’m sure people would love you, just as much as they love Seokjin and Jimin.”

“They have charisma and charm. And what do I have?”

“My god, have you ever seen yourself in the mirror?” Yoongi blurts out and then quickly takes a sip from his glass as if it could somehow mask his words.

“Did you just call me attractive?” Jungkook says, and even though he feels shy, he musters his smuggest smirk.

“I did,” Yoongi answers seriously and casts Jungkook a shrewd glance. Jungkook feels like he’s burning under it. “Because it’s true.” The tips of his ears are turning pink, Jungkook notes with alarm, and the warmth inside of him glows a bit brighter.

The moment feels tense and Jungkook doesn’t know what to answer so he asks, “Would you come to see me? You know, if If I actually were a singer.”

“Of course,” Yoongi answers without missing a beat. Something about his expression changes, his smile fades out slightly before it’s back again, like he reminded himself to keep it up. His voice sounds different though as if he couldn't control it as well as his face. It’s quieter and with a bit of sadness when he adds, “I wouldn’t miss even one of your performances.”

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest. He realizes that all he wants to do is to lean in across the table and kiss him. He wants to catch Yoongi’s pouty bottom lip between his own, place his hands on his cheeks. Yet, he’s unable to move, like he’s frozen in his seat, forced to only look as Yoongi checks his watch and gets up from his chair, adjusting his dress jacket.

“I’m sorry but I need to go now,” he mutters, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes.

“Will I see you this Friday?” Jungkook asks.

There’s a moment of silence, longer then necessary to answer such a simple question. “Maybe.”

Jungkook’s about to say something but all words disappear from is mind when Yoongi reaches his hand and runs it through his hair. He watches how the strands of Jungkook’s hair slip through his fingers and as he takes back his hand he says a quiet,

“Take care of yourself for me, okay?”

Jungkook wants to giggle and ask what’s that about, what’s with that sudden seriousness of Yoongi’s tone, but he can’t quite force his voice to work properly. He nods, still feeling the warmth of Yoongi’s hand.

He’s intoxicated, falling, falling falling deeper for him, and doesn’t even want to try to stop it.

It’s Friday night and Jungkook’s steps feel light when he’s serving the tables. He’s cheerful, all bright smiles and easy laughs - but still attentive, as he always is. Hours pass. Guests come and go, the performances begin and end until whole club goes quiet and empty. Yoongi didn’t show up but it’s okay because Jungkook can wait.

The same thing happens during the weekend. The club’s full but Yoongi never comes. Jungkook feels unsure. But it’s okay. He can wait.

Days and weeks pass and he’s never there, not even for a moment. Jungkook waits, shoving through the crowd with a painful hope to see him but he never does.

He asks Seokjin about him one day and the answer he gets is lighthearted and simple.

“He’s moved away, didn’t even tell me where. But he’s always been this type, you know? Never stayed in one place for too long.”

Jungkook nods and says “oh” like he’s just learnt a curious new fact and his heart shatters.

Seokjin’s then adds, “Didn’t he tell you anything?”

“No, why would he?” Jungkook says, and his voice is flat and foreign to his own ears.

Because why would Yoongi tell him the truth back then? Jungkook was nobody to him, except maybe a pretty face, another handsome guy he’s met. But that doesn’t make Jungkook important. Their conversations and stolen glances, the accidental touches, why would they mean anything to Yoongi anyway?

The connection Jungkook knows was there, the overwhelming certainty that there must be something more behind all of that, Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with them now. Just forget about them? Shove them somewhere deep inside of him and pretend as if they’ve never been there? As if Yoongi didn’t make him feel like finally, he’s found something he’s been looking for?

“I got an impression you two were rather fond of each other,” Seokjin says, softly.

Jungkook feels like throwing up. Or worse, like crying, right in front of Seokjin. The awful lump in his throat makes it hard to swallow and the burn he feels inside his chest hurts enough to make his breathing shallow.

They were fond of each other. At least Jungkook was. So fond of him that he’s never knew what to do with himself, that he couldn’t even grasp how his heart can hold this much love for someone he barely knows. And he had hopes maybe, for something more to come out of this, but then again.

What does it matter now?

“No,” he answers. “Not really.”

March 14th

The evening isn’t cold. The first warmer gusts of spring breezes brush Jungkook’s skin but still, he’s very grateful that, for some reason, Yoongi stays close enough that he can feel his warmth as they walk side by side. Yoongi’s eyes stay focused on his feet and he walks without saying much.

“I found it,” Jungkook says.

Just then, Yoongi looks up at him with a question in his eyes.

“I found the melody I told you about.”

“Really? Wow, I was kind of doubting it would work out.” Yoongi smiles. “But I’m glad you did. It seemed like it’s really important to you, right?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook doesn’t mention that even if the melody carries a great meaning for him, what’s more important is the way it made his memories settle down. After hearing it, they finally fell into their proper places, revealing the true meaning he’s been looking for all this time. It made him realize that he’s been trying to grasp something that was escaping from him over and over again, slipping through his fingers even when he was sure he’s finally got a good hold of it.

“No wonder you’re so happy then,” Yoongi grins.

Jungkook wants to hold his hand. He wants to lean in and finally kiss him, feel the warmth of Yoongi’s mouth against his lips and Yoongi’s taste on his tongue. Jungkook’s about to say something but then Yoongi says,

“You know, you suddenly showing up today was kinda weird but I’m happy to see you.”

And then Yoongi’s hand reaches for his, his fingers intertwining between Jungkook’s. Once more, Jungkook can’t get enough of the feeling of how perfectly they fit together, as if they were made that way. He squeezes Yoongi’s hand back, rubbing his thumb against his.

Yoongi doesn’t let go until they stop in front of Jungkook’s apartment building. As Jungkook looks at Yoongi, he can feel himself tensing with anticipation but suddenly, doesn’t know what he should do.

“Thank you for walking with me,” he manages to say quietly, feeling how dry his throat is.

“No problem.”

In the quiet around them, Yoongi’s voice sounds lower than ever, smooth and tempting. Jungkook can feel himself leaning in slowly, but doesn’t kiss Yoongi yet. Instead, he watches how Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to look at Jungkook’s mouth and back up at his eyes again.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s so close now, close enough for Jungkook to see his eyes sparkling. Jungkook’s mind goes blank. He doesn’t even realize when he answers.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jungkook stares blankly out of the car window, watching how the street lamps pass one by one, their lights casting a glow on Jungkook's knees that disappear a second later. He focuses on the radio playing in the background just enough to know when the speaker, one of those guys you hear during the late night shows with a pleasant, calming voice, announces another song. It starts with the single beat of a drum, the sound of the piano, and the trumpet that follows, and then the singer begins the first verse. His voice, gentle like the colors of dawn, fills the small space of the car and Jungkook feels overwhelmed. It must’ve been a long time ago, the last time he’d heard it, but it still brings back a choking feeling that closes his throat.

"Can I change it?" he asks, without looking at Yoongi behind the steering wheel.

"Sure."

Jungkook presses the button. Then once again, and again, finding nothing that he likes.

"You can turn it off, if you want."

And Jungkook does, so there's no sound around them but the quiet hum of the engine. Truthfully, he doesn't enjoy the sudden silence either.

"When are you guys leaving again?" he asks, partly because he wants to fill the space with words, partly because he and Yoongi never really talked about it. But now, in the dimness of the car, somewhat cut from the reality outside, Jungkook feels like maybe they should.

"We were supposed to leave around the 23rd but Hoseok's parents want us to visit earlier. So I think around the 21st."

"Do you know what kind of gift you’re going to give them?" Jungkook says, burying the sudden clenching feeling in his chest with a smile.

"No idea," Yoongi answers with a tired sigh.

"Are you stressed?"

"It's the first time I'll meet them. So kind of."

"Don't worry. You make good first impressions."

"Do I really?" Yoongi laughs.

Jungkook thinks about the way Yoongi's eyes softened when he said his first hello to him. How his lips curled with a smile when Jungkook told him his name. And how warm Yoongi's hand felt against his own.

"You made a good one on me."

Jungkook doesn't take his eyes away from the window. The road to his house becomes more and more familiar and Jungkook knows it won't take long until they're there.

"It got serious between you two, huh?" Jungkook can only hope his voice sounds as carefree as he wants it to be.

"I guess so." Jungkook doesn’t turn to look at Yoongi but he can hear the smile in his voice. “To be honest, I had no idea it was going to end up like this.”

Yoongi’s car turns right, next to the old primary school that Jungkook once knew every inch of, and then it slows down until it finally stops. The engine goes silent.

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about moving in together.” In the window reflection, Jungkook can see his lips stretched with a smile that he tries so hard to keep up. He turns his face to look at Yoongi. “You seem happy with him.”

In the pale light of the street, Jungkook catches Yoongi’s shy smile. Yoongi focuses his eyes on his knees, fingers playing with the threads around the hole in his jeans.

“I am.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” Jungkook says, because it’s true.

After a short goodbye, Jungkook heads home. He wants to turn around to see how Yoongi moves away from him and how the back lights of his car disappear in the darkness.

He doesn’t, deciding to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead of him instead.

March 14th

Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes away from him, waiting for an answer. Jungkook suddenly can’t force his voice to work, so he nods instead and watches how Yoongi smiles at him.

Jungkook can see him leaning in, notices that he even, god, he even gets on his tiptoes a bit. He’s just one breath apart when Jungkook panics and places his fingers against Yoongi’s lips to stop him in the last moment. Yoongi looks at him, worried.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles with Jungkook’s fingers still pressed to his mouth.

The memories of Yoongi kissing someone else pop up in Jungkook’s mind. He remembers his eyes looking at  them with fondness, the easy way his fingers would curl around the other person’s nape before he kissed them.

“Just in case,” Jungkook starts, hesitantly, “You don’t, uh, happen to have a boyfriend, do you?”

The worried look on Yoongi’s face turns into utter confusion and then a frown.

“Do you think,” he starts and it doesn’t come off as intimidating as he would probably like it to be when he’s still talking funny, “I would ask if I had a boyfriend?”

Jungkook finally removes his fingers and now his hands hang by his sides awkwardly. “No?”

“Of course not, you absolute idiot.”

“Okay. That’s, um... That’s good.”

Yoongi snorts and shakes his head in disbelief. “Asking about my boyfriend just when I wanted to ask you to be mine ,” Yoongi mumbles under his breath with a pout. “What the fuck.”

Jungkook’s heart stops for good few seconds. After he remembers how to breath again, he feels his lips stretching with the biggest grin and asks,

“What?”

Yoongi looks up at him surprised, like he’s been caught red-handed. “What?”

“You want me to be your boyfriend. That’s what you just said.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I did before I found out you’re such a dumbass.”

Jungkook’s laugh echoes around the street. “Stop lying. You want to date me. Period.”

“Yeah, well. I do. What about you?”

The mood that Jungkook was sure he’s ruined is back, as Yoongi looks at him with the intensity and hope in his eyes. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook nods because there’s nothing else in the world he would like more right now.

The anticipation in Yoongi’s eyes softens and the tension visibly vanishes from his body. He smiles as he gets closer once again, his voice close to a whisper when he asks,

“So, can I kiss you now?

Jungkook nods once more.

When Yoongi’s lips brush his, electricity runs through his entire body, making him shiver. And then, Yoongi’s hands rest on both of his cheeks, gentle and warm, and with the power to make Jungkook melt under their touch. He feels Yoongi’s tongue on his lower lip and doesn’t hesitate to part his mouth for him, humming softly once Yoongi tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He twists his hands in the front of Yoongi’s jacket, pulling him closer.

It’s too many things at once. The feeling’s new and thrilling yet, at the same time, Jungkook’s encountered it before. He’s learned it eons ago and it’s been kept inside himself all this time, waiting, waiting, waiting for the chance to experience it once more.

His hands shake and grip at Yoongi’s clothes tighter when Yoongi’s thigh slides between his own. His blood rushes fast enough that he can almost hear its hiss in his ears making him dizzy and kind of like he could float a few inches above the ground.

He never wants to stop feeling this way.

Yoongi pulls back, with his cheeks flushed and breathing uneven, and looks at Jungkook attentively.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice coming out rougher than before. Jungkook’s knees feel weak. “I know I’m good at this but... are you okay?”

Jungkook giggles. He clings closer to Yoongi, buries his face into Yoongi’s neck.

“I’m alright, Yoongi. I’m really, really, really alright.”

He’s never been better in his life.

Jungkook takes a short break from packing. His room turned into a mess of clothing and opened suitcases but he’s halfway done already. He really doesn’t need much, especially because he doesn’t want to clutter up Yoongi’s apartment with too many of his belongings. The most important things to him are still getting away from here and being close to Yoongi.

He walks downstairs to check if there’s any new mail waiting for him by the door. It makes him a little bit antsy, that Yoongi hasn’t replied to any of his letters yet. But it always takes him some time, considering how busy he tends to be.

He flips through the small pile lying on the shelf by the door. It’s nothing unusual, diner invitations from other families that Jungkook’s glad he will never have to suffer through again, bills, letters from relatives Jungkook hasn’t even seen once in his life. But nothing from Yoongi.

He takes the newspaper instead and skip a few pages, trying to find anything worth reading. His eyes skim through the text until they catch a familiar name.

The obituary is short, just the rushed work of a mediocre journalist, written in a poor style, full of cliches and cheap, tear jerking phrases. All big words but no genuine feeling behind them, talking about the great loss for the world of music, life that could last so much longer and the struggle to find the answer to the question why?

Yoongi would laugh right in the face of whoever wrote it.

He feels like he’s going to throw up, his stomach clenching with the sudden nausea and his ears fill with an overwhelming piercing noise. He keeps looking at the text but doesn’t see anything except from the senseless blur of blank ink. But he doesn’t cry.

Not now, not after a few hours. Even when he wants to, his eyes stay dry days and weeks later. He doesn’t feel anything except from the gaping hollow ripping his chest apart every time he thinks about him.

Every day, every night,  every single hour.

March 21st

“I appreciate the eagerness,” even without looking, Jungkook hears the pout in Yoongi’s voice, “but don’t count on another round. I’m tired.”

Yoongi lies on his back, his hair scattered on the pillow, chest moving with deep, slow breaths. His eyes stay closed as he moves a hand through his hair to push away the damp strands that stick to his forehead. He seems relaxed and sated, basking in the lingering afterglow.

Jungkook’s lips stay pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder when he laughs, “That’s because you’re old and weak.”

“Interesting, considering I’ve just made you come two times.”

Jungkook giggles again, more shy this time, and presses few more kisses to Yoongi’s skin. “Can I just kiss you then?”

“As long as I don’t have to move - go ahead.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Jungkook mutters, moving down Yoongi’s body and feeling the vibrations of his laughter as his lips brush Yoongi’s stomach.

His own body feels tired as well, in a pleasant and satisfying way, muscles still shaking a bit from exertion. He goes slowly, keeping his movements unhurried, as he starts below Yoongi’s navel, pressing gentle open-mouthed kisses there, tasting salt and the faintest traces of soap on Yoongi’s skin.

“Are you planning to finally put together that bed frame?” Jungkook asks, moving slightly up Yoongi’s body, lips brushing between his ribs. “Or are we gonna end up on the floor everytime I come over?”

“Excuse you, we’re not on the floor. We’re on a very comfortable mattress. Besides, we end up on the couch too, from time to time. ”

“Yeah, nice, at least you have that.” Jungkook huffs a laugh against Yoongi’s skin. “You know what else would be nice? Not tripping over all of those cardboard boxes you have everywhere.”

Jungkook’s kisses lose some of their delicacy and the slight graze of his teeth causes Yoongi to shiver. Jungkook’s eyes flick up to glance at Yoongi’s face, in time to catch the way he’s biting on his lower lip before he mutters,

“You’re such a brat.”

“Ah, all the nicknames you give me. So cute,” Jungkook laughs. He goes up, his lips pressed to Yoongi’s sternum, up, to his collarbones, up, to the side of his neck. “I could help you with this whole unpacking stuff deal. If you want.”

A moment of silence makes Jungkook unsure but it quickly passes when he hears,

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Jungkook feels Yoongi’s hand on his hair, brushing it gently, fingers threading through the messy strands. Feeling confident, Jungkook nibbles at Yoongi’s skin with intention to leave another mark there. He smiles, hearing Yoongi’s quiet curse as his hand grips at Jungkook’s hair tighter.

“Good?” he whispers to Yoongi’s ear.

“You know it’s good even without my answer.” Yoongi’s breath catches as Jungkook repeats the same thing again. His hand tugs at Jungkook’s hair, before he says, “Just kiss me properly already.”

Jungkook lifts his head from Yoongi’s throat to kiss his lips, deep but without changing the lazy rhythm of it. When they part, Yoongi looks at him, his eyes hooded and dark but gentled with affection.

“I’m happy you were so stubborn to get that book,” he says between kisses, rubbing his thumb against Jungkook’s cheek.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, just hums with agreement, nuzzling closer against Yoongi’s palm.

“Maybe we would’ve never met otherwise,” Yoongi continues. “That would be a shame.”

“Maybe we already did.”

His words seem to surprise Yoongi who narrows his eyes and furrows with confusion. He giggles before asking,

“What are you talking about?”

Jungkook hesitates. He untangles himself from Yoongi’s limbs and lies on his back next to him. He breathes in and exhales slowly, feeling how fluttery his heart feels in his chest.

“What if I met you before,” he starts, still not looking at Yoongi.

From the corner of his eye, his sees Yoongi turning on his side, propping himself on his elbow.

“Do you mean when we were younger? I don’t remember anything like that though.”

“No, not when we were younger.” Jungkook pauses, knowing that what he’s about to say will sound ridiculous to Yoongi. He continues nevertheless. “In our previous lives.”

Yoongi snickers. “You can’t be serious.”

He falls silent though when he notices Jungkook’s expression. Jungkook takes it as a sign to continue and swallows, before speaking again.

“I’m not expecting you to believe me. But what if said that I feel like I’ve met you already? A really long time ago.”

He finally turns his head to look at Yoongi. His expression is unreadable, features hard to figure out in the dim light of the bedroom.

“I would say that you’re a hopeless romantic,” Yoongi reaches his hand to stroke Jungkook’s arm with gentle fingers, “or that too much sex has gotten to your head.”

Jungkook smiles at his light tone. He didn’t expect any other answer anyway.

They both stay silent for a longer while and Yoongi seems lost in his thoughts, still tracing Jungkook’s skin absently, leaving senseless, invisible patterns on his shoulder and chest.

“If what you’re saying is true,” Yoongi finally says, “then why I don’t remember any of it?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook shrugs. “There was always someone in my memories and I had no idea who it was. But now I look at you and I just know that it’s you. There’s this familiarity about you,” Jungkook pauses, searching for proper words, “just like with the melody I’ve been searching for. When I heard it, everything clicked in place. And then you kissed me and… things became so clear.”

Jungkook feels his cheek prickle with embarrassment but Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He stays silent, looking at him with gentle eyes, like he wants him to continue.

“It feels like… Like I’ve been walking from somewhere for a very long time. And now I’m finally home.”

He pauses, laughs quietly under his nose. “You think it’s all bullshit, don’t you?”

“No,” Yoongi leans in to peck Jungkook’s forehead. “I think it’s cute.”

Yoongi brushes Jungkook’s hair, watching how it slips through his fingers.

“You know,” Jungkook starts after a moment, “when you kiss me, it feels like you’ve already done so before. Don’t you feel anything like that too?”

“Is that some cheap excuse to make me kiss you?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No. But it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but obeys, kissing Jungkook lightly. He leans back and licks his lips, narrowing his eyes like he’s considering something.

“I feel mint toothpaste,” he says with a grin. He leans in for a kiss again, this time more lingering and deeper than before.

“Still nothing,” he mutters, staying close enough for his lips brush against Jungkook’s when he speaks. “Third time’s the charm?”

Jungkook giggles before Yoongi is kissing him again, smiling into it. The sheer confidence of how right it feels is almost enough to take Jungkook’s breath away. It’s as if all of the events of this life, and maybe previous ones too, have lead up to this moment. He hums with satisfaction when Yoongi presses himself closer just before he pulls back.

“I feel that I like you. But no previous life flashbacks, sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Jungkook feels his cheeks flushing. “And I like you too.”

Yoongi smiles before he ducks his face again to kiss Jungkook’s neck. He shifts so he can straddle Jungkook’s thighs and his kisses turn from soft to more eager, tongue pressing to Jungkook’s heated skin, teeth grazing his shoulder.

“Did you suddenly change your mind about another round?” Jungkook asks, trying to hold back a smile. He can feel a pleasant rush of excitement when Yoongi pins his hands to the mattress, intertwining their fingers together.

“Three is a nice number.”

“And what happened to the I’m tired part?” Jungkook feels almost irritated that he’s already starting to sound breathless. He tries but fails to stifle a soft moan as Yoongi bites his ear.

“When did I even say that?”

Jungkook laughs, both at Yoongi’s words and because of the tickling feeling of Yoongi’s bangs brushing his skin.

“Let’s say we’ll meet again, sometime,” Yoongi says and his eyes flick up to look at Jungkook, “I won’t remember any of this, right?”

“Probably not. Maybe I will. Some of it, at least.”

Yoongi laughs softly. “Then I have to make it worth remembering, huh?”

He pulls at Jungkook’s hands to make him sit up and cups Jungkook’s jaw in his hands. For a moment, all he does is look at Jungkook with the softest smile raising the corners of his lips. Jungkook holds his gaze, reluctant to even blink, so he won’t lose the sight of him.

Yoongi presses their lips together, kissing Jungkook softly, and Jungkook’s hands move from the small of Yoongi’s back, between his shoulderblades, to the hair at the back of his neck. With each brush of his fingertips against Yoongi’s skin, love that Jungkook’s carried hidden deep in his heart, a memento from all of the previous lifetimes, blooms with an overwhelming force. Everything falls into its place and, for once, Jungkook feels at peace.

It’s always been and always will be Yoongi.  

Jungkook pulls back and presses his forehead to the crook of Yoongi’s neck. He breaths him in, nearly dazed with the certainty that there’s no other place and no other person he’d rather be with in this moment. And later too, after this present passes, he wants to be with him. He wants Yoongi’s hair scattered on their pillow to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, and his sleepy goodnight to be the last thing he hears before he falls asleep.

“I wish you could remember me too,” he whispers more to himself than Yoongi.

When Yoongi speaks, his voice isn’t too serious, closer to a joke than anything else. Yet, Jungkook already knows he will do anything to fulfill his request.

“Then find me in our next life and remind me.”

April 3rd

"Do you have to go?" Jungkook asks.

It's one of those mornings, right before spring truly begins, when it's still dark outside, the sky a gray, overcast blur.  A few rays of sun make it through the clouds to pour in through the windows, creating a small patches of warmth on the white, crumpled sheets. A little reminder of winter stepping away to give its place for the new things to come.

"I do," Yoongi says, entering the bedroom. He brings the smell of shaving cream and Jungkook's shampoo with him, a refreshing mix of mint and pine, with the faint traces of coffee that he drank first thing after waking up. His hair's still fluffy after blow drying it, and his fingers working clumsily, buttoning up his shirt. "Not everyone's their own boss like you, baby."

Jungkook feels a pleasant little tingle at how unconsciously the last word slips through Yoongi's lips. He hides his smile into a pillow before he says, "You missed a button."

Yoongi glances down on himself and sighs with resignation, seeing how uneven his shirt is. He redos it with the most adorable pout that Jungkook's ever seen but doesn't hurry, almost like he wants to drag it out.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed and observes him, amused, before he reaches his hands to pull Yoongi closer by the loops of his jeans.

"I'm sure your boss wouldn't mind if you didn't show up today." Jungkook's hands slips underneath Yoongi's shirt to curl around his hipbones. "You're probably late anyway."

"I'm not late but if you’re gonna keep doing whatever you're doing then I will be," Yoongi grumbles but he doesn't protest much when Jungkook lifts his shirt a bit. "Where are you going with this, exactly?"

"To the proposition," Jungkook presses a few kisses on Yoongi's stomach, in a place where his skin is revealed, "that you should call in sick."

Yoongi snorts. "So I'm supposed to lie?"

"You're a master of making up bullshit excuses."

"I won't argue with that," Yoongi answers and Jungkook can hear the resolve in his voice melting bit by bit. "I am good at it."

Jungkook lets Yoongi's shirt fall down again. He wraps his arms around his waist instead, pulling him into a tight hug. He presses side of his face to Yoongi's stomach and closes his eyes, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin layer of fabric.

All Jungkook wants is to make the moment last. He wants Yoongi's scent to fill him up, his warmth to envelope him, his presence to stay as close as it is now.

He clings even closer, unashamedly needy for the other's touch.

"Stay with me. Just this one time."

Yoongi's fingers rest at Jungkook's nape, their touch delicate and ticklish as they skim his skin. He leans in, pressing his lips to the top of Jungkook's head to whisper against his messy hair.

“Okay."

EPILOGUE

09:44am

"Today is: Thursday, March first, 09:44am."

Jungkook blinks his eyes open, still too drowsy to understand the words coming from somewhere around his desk.

"Current temperature: 26°C. Heavy overcast. Air humidity: 15 percent. Air pollution: 259 ppbv, very unhealthy."

His eyelids close again, as he nuzzles his face closer against the pillow,  ignoring the polite tone of the AI telling him about the upcoming storms in his area.

"You are now: 20 minutes late for work. Appropriate solution: getting the hell up."

Jungkook jumps up on his mattress. The wire of his earbuds is tangled around his neck, the muffled sound of music still audible, the melody looped and replaying for the whole night.  He fumbles with it, trying to free himself, simultaneously getting up to his feet.

"Shit, shit shit!"

The AI laughs at him softly, its voice losing all of the previous politeness and coming back to its usual snarky self.

"Seriously? Again? I tried to wake you up 3 times before and you didn't react At All."

"You should have tried harder then," Jungkook mumbles, shuffling around the small room in search of something to wear. He looks through the pile of clothes he left on the floor the evening before. They're crumpled but, who cares, they'll have to work now. He balances on one leg, putting his sock on when the AI speaks again, its voice overly sweet now.

"You looked so cute, though. I'd feel bad."

"Why did they program your personality to be like that?" Jungkook winces. He bursts into the tiny bathroom to brush his teeth while also trying to awkwardly comb his hair at the same time.

"I learn the most from my owner, did you forget? Anyway, what would you like me to do now? Should I read the news? Search through the hottest new memes? Or maybe play some dramatic music to add a nice effect to your struggles?"

"I hate you," Jungkook mumbles around a mouthful of foam. Once he's done with the bare minimum in the bathroom, he grabs his bag and jacket, puts on his shoes not bothering with tying them properly.

"Aaand you've just missed your train. What a bummer. The next one leaves in: 16 minutes. Want me to calculate how fast you should run to make it?"

"Fuck. Just... send an email to my boss and tell him I'm going to be late, ok?"

"Sure." A beat. "All done~"

He grabs his key card, shoves his phone into the back pocket of his pants and takes one last, quick glance around the room to check if he has everything he needs.

"Have a nice day! I'll miss yo—"

Jungkook swipes his fingers through the small screen lying on the desk as he hurries towards the door, shutting the AI down before it can finish.

He makes it in time, squeezing through the train doors just seconds before they close. With his heart hammering and chest heaving with rapid breaths, he shoves through the crowd until he finds some place to stand more or less comfortably. The train is packed, of course it is, he hardly remembers times when it isn't. But the boring routine of his days ensured Jungkook of it, making him almost numb to the feeling of someone's luggage digging into the back of his knees or the stuffiness created by everyone's breathing.

He reaches for his phone, planning to fill the time with the music only to notice it's dead. He shoves it back into his pocket with a sigh and looks around him. It's the usual crowd of people rushing to work, a dull blur of anonymous faces. But among all of that, somebody catches his attention.

The first thing Jungkook notices, is a mop of pink hair, messy bangs falling to his eyes. His mouth and nose are covered with a black mask, pretty fingers curled around the handhold to keep him steady as he reads something on his phone.

He looks up, as if he felt Jungkook's gaze on himself, shakes his head a bit to move his hair away from his face. In any other case, Jungkook would look away, embarrassed about being caught staring. But right now, he can't help himself, too transfixed by the intensity of the other’s presence.

Their eyes meet.

Something clicks in place.