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Taehyung found Yoongi in the next life age 11, walking along a white beach in Crete. His parents had brought him on holiday with them despite all his protests, he had no idea of even a word of Greek, but here he was, on a beach with a name he couldn't pronounce. They'd filmed an ad for a famous chocolate here once, his mother had said. It was nice, he had agreed. The waves here lapped the sand slowly, tugging at shiny stones and pebbles.
He was dressed in a cool, loose polo shirt and his hair was down to his shoulders. The beach wind whipped through it as he waded out into the wide sea, cold at first but soothing on his young skin. He'd just finished a nice sandcastle. It was a lovely day.
It was the middle of the afternoon and the sun seated the back of his neck red, but the sea was calming and he was in it. First up to where he had rolled his trousers to the knee, and then he'd gone all the way in. He bobbed up and down with the tide, arms stretched out as he leaned back a little.
Taehyung floated there for a long while, staring up at the cloudless sky. It was so vast and empty. It made him think of skies he had seen before, when he wasn't the same self. His grandmother had told him he was an old soul, and he had always understood what that meant, even if the answer was not concrete. There was a lot inside him that he could not understand, but that was okay, because he had a family that loved him and he had love to give back.
His mother called and he awoke from his daydream, hands making gentle sloshing sounds as he rotated his body towards the shore.
It was further away than he expected, his heart beated loud and sudden.
"Taehyung-ah! Come closer to the sand! It's not safe to be that far out on your own!"
"Sorry mum!" He called back, and began to paddle away his nerves. All the sea behind him suddenly felt so huge, like a chasm, and that was scary, holding all those strange thoughts so he found himself approaching the shore completely. Maybe he would just lie down and make sand angels the water could wash away when the tide came in.
His toe hit something blunt, something in the way. He looked down, saw the head of something rough and grey peeking through the waves. And he gasped at the shape of the rock, a song ringing through his whole body.
"Y-Yoongi-hyung."
Taehyung stood up and crouched down. He had no idea how to explain it, but, especially when he put his hand to the salt-beaten surface, he felt it. The soul of someone he'd loved in another lifetime, distant but haunting his dreams enough for him to remember that there was a time when he had been more than just a little boy, when bitten through nails combed through his hair, soft kisses and cat eyes had been his entire universe.
"You really got your wish."
He splayed his palm on top of the rock, the tips of his fingers sinking into the sea. The surface was rough and the contact set his heart racing, his entire small frame pulsing with wonder. He blinked and stared, the water lapped around his hand and the rock and its image shimmered, blurring them both together in the sun. His jaw was slack and his eyes were suddenly wet.
Taehyung rubbed them with his dry hand. Was it the salt or something else?
Emotions this body had not yet felt were welling up inside him, filling him to the brim.
"I can't believe it," his hand curled a bit, "it's really you. How did you end up here, so far away from me?"
Of course (a sad kind of of course), the rock did not respond. The waves moved around it, sea foam gently catching its surface, but nothing happened.
"I really really missed you," he said, and then panicked, because (of course) rocks didn't have ears, or eyes, or any nerves to feel his touch. They had nothing, so he tried to reach out with his mind, his soul, hoping the sentiment was enough.
Maybe he imagined the feeling he got back, the warmth under his touch, but everything felt like it was enough. They, lovers, had reunited again, just as Yoongi had promised him an uncountable amount of years ago, between soft breaths and a warm duvet.
Taehyung sat down in the water, giggling with embarrassment as his trousers inflated, and pressed the air out of them before adjusting both hands on top of the rock - on top of Yoongi, the one he loved. He felt kind of like he was reading a crystal ball. And he felt whole, too.
"This is amazing," he whispered, "we're together again."
Yoongi the rock wasn't that big. He didn't protest when Taehyung bent over to lift him up, the size of his upper chest but not too heavy. Bits of seaweed came out the water with him, dripping and salty and slimey. It made young Taehyung blush and smile. The back of his mind imagined the soul as a human, grumpy and whiney and softly sweet. And now, they were together again.
"Taehyung-ah, put that thing down, it's dirty!"
Something he had not foreseen was now in his way. The backs of his eyes felt sharp.
"Mum, no please- let me take hi- it home."
"You silly thing, it'll make the room smell, leave it be. There are rocks at home."
"Mum please you don't unders-"
"Taehyung, put that thing down and come with me now or you'll miss dinner!"
But he was young and still at the whim of his parents, so with tears pouring from his eyes he set Yoongi down beside a palm tree, and drew a heart in the sand nearby with some flint.
"I'll come back for you hyung, when I'm older, I'll take you back with me. I promise."
The rock said nothing, but in the child eyes of Taehyung, it might have shone brighter in the afternoon sun.
It took a long, long time for Taehyung to come back for him. Becoming an adult was the first step, and then it was university coming in the way of money. Every day of his youth was spent dreaming of the other soul waiting on the shore in Crete. It tugged at his heart during every passing hour. His friends loved him but always told him how he was distracted. They didn't mind, though, it was just how he was.
Finally, finally, when he was 24, he returned. Bumbled down to the beach off the bus like a madman, only barely remembering to thank the driver on his way out the door. He kicked off his shoes and his feet smacked and kicked up sand. It stung but he wanted to see Yoongi.
Taehyung let out a 13 year long breath at the sight of Yoongi, still there. The heart was gone of course, and his surroundings had become decorated by a scattering of fallen leaves, but the grin on his face was so wide he was painful.
Taehyung scooped the soul up, it hummed back (so familiar, what a relief). Yoongi seemed so much smaller now that he had grown. He smiled and smiled and peppered the rock with loving kisses.
"Let's take you back to Korea," he whispered excitedly, "Let's take you back home."
There were days when Taehyung would get so desperately sad and lonely, seeing how happy all his friends were when they fell in love. He hated seeing Jimin kissing his lover, he felt something strange that he didn't like at their wedding. He would always brush off his friends jibes about him being single for ever with a half smile and a shrug, picking up a drink and saying that he's waiting for the right person. He never hooked up, never even looked up when people approaches him at bars he'd escaped too when the memories of him and yoongi, both human, tangled up in bed with a movie and popcorn. He wanted that back.
There were days when he'd return home to his apartment, to his rock he'd left sitting by the window amongst the plants, and shout and scream and swear at it. He cursed Yoongi and called him selfish for choosing a body he couldn't love.
But rocks don't talk back, so the yelling always ended in welled up years, burying his head in his pillow until he couldn't breathe and then rolling across his matters to face the ceiling, bleary eyed, the rock unmoving in the corner of his vision. Acceptance.
One day, when this happened, it ended differently. His pool of tears were cold around his eyes and stung his cheeks. And as he wiped them away Taehyung remembered something from his previous life. Something he'd said whilst snuggled up to Yoongi, so so in love, by a warm crackling fire.
"You said you wanted to be a rock in your next life, hyung," he turned to him, watched the flamelight dance over his sharp features, revealing the softness in them that was usually only deep in his eyes. "Don't worry, it's not a big deal." He wrapped their hands together, "I'll take you to lots of beautiful places," he promised.
Yoongi, the soul he loved more than the world, smiled back.
The memory wavering at the top of his mind, Taehyung took a shaky breath and kicked himself out of bed. He approached his laptop and switched it on. He also found himself angling the screen away from Yoongi, and as soon as the browser was opening and he typed in a bold "seven wonders of the world" a cheeky grin started to hug at his lips. The rock seemed to hum back.
Taehyung told his friends and family he needed to get away for a while. Escape, see the world while he was still relatively young and not tied down. He guessed that was a half truth. (Jimin had taken it as a joking insult. "Just because I'm married with kids doesn't mean I can't go on nice holidays, asshole!”)
He took Yoongi everywhere. Together, they experience the world. He sat with his love on his lap as they peaked a snowy mountain and watches the valleys fall away below. He held him tight as they rushed down white rivers, the warm stone leaving an imprint on his chin (but it wasn't as deep as his laugh lines). He bundled him in a cloth and carried him on his back through busy streets at night, pointing and marvelling at the city lights. Fireworks, chasing storms, riding rollercoasters, they did it all. Together.
Every night, at a new hotel, he'd tour the room with him. Usually he was shirtless, exhausted, but he padded across floor after floor regardless, always ended up marvelling at the view (whatever it was, he just laughed when it was a dirty side street or an air conditioning vent, as was the way of the world sometimes). This would end with curling up beside him on the bed. He stroked Yoongi softly, and then on occasion himself when loneliness dared to leak through his chest. Just before falling asleep, Taehyung would make sure to kiss his top, lips meeting content and quiet stone before their souls drifted into dreamland and the beckoning arms of their memories together. Taehyung felt Yoongi the most at times like this. There was no way he was truly alone.
They travelled for much longer than anticipated. Taehyung grew old faster than he remembered. He found himself taking Yoongi to places that were easy to get to and explore, nothing too hard on his weakening legs.
Yoongi did not change at all.
"I kind of realised the other day," Taehyung said gruffly, while they sat under the shadow of an oak tree in a meadow, and his voice caught on itself a little, "rocks kinda live forever don't they? So you won't have a next life." His hand found Yoongi's top, and with his thumb he stroked through the cracks gently, "you'll just be here always, unless I put you in a fast flowing river and you erode away, but you're a tough little rock you know, so even then-" he stopped and sniffed, it was all getting too much. His soul was full of grief, trying to get to its mate.
"I could say you were selfish for what you did," he looked away, at the sunset. It was so red, "I used to think that a lot, I'm sure you remember, but I don't blame you, hyung. Life is hard, you took the easy way out. That’s okay to do."
He looked down at Yoongi. Amongst the grass and trees he looked so at home, so content to just be a part of nature. To exist with no worries and let oneself be slack to the beautiful passage of time. It moved him in a way he hadn't felt before, and he had the start of an idea.
"I know what I'll do," he said. It was some hours later, he'd got a fire burning in the cool autumn night, "in the next life, I'll be something that can't fade too. Something that exists everywhere. You don't have to worry. We really can be together forever then."
Yoongi's grey reflection danced in the flamelight. Taehyung watched him, really watched him, for a long time, until he decided that his soulmate must have already agreed.
Some years later, it snowed. Not too hard, enough for the weather to be mumbled about during a funeral. People wrapped themselves up a little tighter between wiping their noses and crying soft tears. Some umbrellas sprang up and the congregation strained their ears to listen to the priest.
The first flake landed on a small, rough grey rock, one just in front of his grave. His nieces and nephews had laid the thing there, still smelling vaguely of warm sea salt, with a shake of their heads.
"What was he like," they joked, "our strange uncle. Going travelling his whole life and telling us nothing on his will other than to leave this old rock here."
"Now now," Jimin chided, all old and grey, "Taehyungie was just a free spirit. I think he saw the world in a way we couldn't understand."
The first snow was soon to melt into a coin size worth of water, seeping into a small crack in the rock. Two souls sung together once more.