Chapter Text
Someone out there in the universe fucked up.
That’s the only explanation Jeongguk has for this -- this being the six names tattooed along his ribcage, each and every one of them somebody he knows, and each and every one of them already with a soulmate. Which, coincidentally, happens to be someone else’s name conveniently on Jeongguk’s ribcage. Three soulmate pairs that Jeongguk is friends with -- and three soulmate pairs tattooed on his body.
Somebody fucked up, big time.
Jeongguk lets his shirt drop, turning away from the full body mirror and falling back on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Outside his room, he can hear the tell tale signs of the other six men in the apartment waking up and making breakfast, something he really doesn’t want to participate in because he doesn’t know if he can keep a straight face and not break into tears anymore.
Ever since he was born, his parents and teachers told him all about the beautiful world of soulmates, of how one day, a name, or names, would appear on your body, and that’s the person -- or people -- that the universe had destined for you to fit with just right, in either a romantic or platonic way. Jeongguk, ever the romantic, dreamed of having the perfect partner, the person who complimented him just right and they’d fit together like puzzle pieces, and make each other the happiest they’ve ever been.
Now, that dream is crashing down around his ears, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He has names on his body, which in all intents and purposes should be a good thing -- people without names are left to suffer, wondering about what could have been, as either their soulmate had already died or they don’t exist. Twenty years old is rather young to make or break the rest of someone’s life, but what can you do when the universe commands it? Next to nothing.
Jeongguk simply doesn’t know what to do. He’s in unknown waters; stories of someone having the name of someone who already has a soulmate are unheard of; if there are any out there who lived to tell their story. Rejection of a soulmate is a cruel fate, and Jeongguk may hold hope for now, but he knows that everyone will reject him. His idea of a soulmate has always been a romantic partner (or two, or three; he’d take whatever the universe threw at him), but everyone else in the dorm is already in a committed relationship with their soulmate that they’d found lomg ago. Jeongguk is the last one to get his mark -- marks, two years behind Taehyung and Jimin.
It’s a game of cat and mouse; the others are perceptive and know that something is off about Jeongguk, but Jeongguk refuses to tell them what it is. He doesn’t want to throw the happy soulmate pairs into chaos, especially after the trials and breakdowns they’d experienced over the years. He can’t force Seokjin and Yoongi apart again, after seeing how Seokjin collapsed after Yoongi spent a week locked in his studio after his birthday came and went. After seeing how frantic Yoongi was when he arrived at the hospital; how relieved they both where when Yoongi pulled up his pants to show Seokjin’s name on his ankle when he saw his own name on Seokjin’s shoulder through the thin white hospital gown.
Jeongguk couldn’t dream of splitting Jimin and Hoseok; their bond was one unique and perfect for them. They both had their struggles and insecurities, and Hoseok hadn’t told Jimin when his name aoppeared on Hoseok’s wrist, using heavy concealer for months until a year passed and then he found Jimin mid breakdown in the dance room because Hoseok’s name had come to life on Jimin’s collarbone. They had a rough time, torn apart by confusion and fear and worry, but slowly, steadily, they came together and burst into the most beautiful colors Jeongguk has ever seen.
Jeongguk can’t rip Taehyung and Namjoon apart, after seeing how close they became after Taehyung’s birthday had passed. Namjoon had told Taehyung the moment his name appeared, and they waited with baited breath for December thirtieth, shedding tears of joy and relief when Namjoon’s name appeared on Taehyung’s neck, matching the name on Namjoon’s hip. The smiles on their face were looks Jeongguk wants to see again and again, but he sees those smiles only when they’re with each other; spread out on the couch talking about everything and nothing, leaning against each other during car rides and flights. Those smiles are for each other, and each other only.
And all the while, Jeongguk is left alone. He has nobody to turn to, nobody that would know what to do. He’s alone in a world where everyone has their perfect half, where you’re scorned for dating outside your soulmate. Platonic soulmates have rose hell fighting for their rights, and the world slowly progressing, but people who have the names of other soulmate couples when the other two don’t have their name? Jeongguk has never heard of it, yet here he is, experiencing it. And he has no idea what to do.
He’s been watching and waiting for almost three months now. It’s nearing December, nearing Christmas, nearing the blessed two week break they were given by their company to go home and visit family. Jeongguk knows the plans of the others; Taehyung and Namjoon travelling to Ilsan and Daegu; Jimin and Hoseok visiting Busan and Gwangjo; Yoongi and Seokjin stopping in Daegu and Gwacheo. Meanwhile, Jeongguk is going to Busan and staying there for a week before returning to Seoul for the other week. He has nowhere else to go; no place else to be.
He hasn’t told the others that he’d be back in Seoul a week before their break ended. He sees no reason to tell them; they’ll all be off meeting each other’s families and celebrating the holidays with their partners, and all Jeongguk can do is wallow in his situation and try to do something to take his mind off of it. He has something in mind, something that might change everything, but he’s not sure if he’ll be allowed to go through with it by the company.
A glance at the sketchbook on his table reveals that it’s still open to the sketches that he’s been working on for the last month and a half. Six small tattoos, each one just large enough to cover one the names along his ribs. Six small cover up tattoos, so that he can pretend that he’s normal and just doesn’t have a soulmate. It would be less of a risk for someone to see the tattoos than to have someone see the names of his six bandmates etched into his skin; tattoos would be less messy, less emotional. Less worrysome.
And that’s exactly what Jeongguk needs.
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Another week passes as Jeongguk suffers in silence, making contact with a tattoo artist in Busan between dance practices and vocal training. He sends his designs and the location where they would be, and the man confirms that he can have it done in about a day, maybe two if necessary. And so Jeongguk books an appointment, and when the time comes, he boards a train to Busan and doesn’t look back.
(He doesn’t really not look back. He was the first to leave for vacation, and so the others came to the station to see him off. Jeongguk hugged each of them tightly, taking in how much he loves them and the way that their arms seem to fit him just right. If he wipes away tears when he turns to get on the train, either nobody notices or nobody calls him out for it. Jeongguk looks back the entire time the train is leaving, watching his friends -- his soulmates -- get smaller and smaller into the distance, knowing that when he returns, everything will be different.)
And so everything changes very much, very quickly. Jeongguk meets with the tattoo artist, who raises an eyebrow at the six names etched into his ribs, but says nothing as he sizes and positions where the tattoos will be, asking about colors and angles. It’s a whirlwind of motion and then Jeongguk has his shirt off on a tattoo chair, the needle buzzing and inking the designs into his ribs, slowly but surely erasing the names of Jeongguk’s soulmates. The artist talks a bit as he works, and Jeongguk does his best to respond, but mostly it’s silent, with the buzzing and the soft radio filling the air of the studio.
Five hours and a couple breaks later, the artist removes the needle from Jeongguk’s skin one last time and sets it aside, wiping away any excess ink and proclaiming the designs finished. He allows Jeongguk to take a look at them before they’re wrapped up in plastic to shield them from the air and Jeongguk’s shirt; and they’re beautiful. Tears prick at Jeongguk’s eyes as he surveys his ribs, not seeing the names of his soulmates for the first time in months. It feels like a clean slate; it feels like starting over.
He pays a bit over the agreed amount, and leaves before the artist can notice that there’s a few bills too many in the stack Jeongguk had given him. The air of Busan has a sharp chill to it, and Jeongguk stuffs his hands in his pockets as he heads for the hotel room he’d checked into before going to the tattoo appointment, ready to order room service, choose a movie, and cry his eyes out over what could have been if only he had someone else’s name.
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It still hurts, sometimes. Tattoos didn’t change the pain. Seeing his bandmates be happy and in love with each other when he’s left discarded on the sidelines still hurts him as much as it always did. Some nights, he can’t help but cry himself to sleep, exhausted and tired of living in a world where his happiness is so, so close and yet so far. They’re all still close; it’s not like they stop caring about him. Seokjin still worries like a parent would, Jimin and Taehyung rope him into stupid games and pranks they put on for the cameras watching them. Hoseok still ruffles his hair after pushing him through a difficult dance practice, Namjoon still teaches him how to write lyrics and compose, and Yoongi makes an effort to get lamb skewers with Jeongguk when they have down time.
But it still pains Jeongguk that he’ll never be able to find someone that he loves as much as he loves these six men. It pains him that he has to lie and say his skin is blank when he has six tattoos covering the names of the six people he’s painfully and irrevocably in love with. The words sting on his tongue sometimes, but he always bites them back, teeth digging into his cheek or his tongue until he tastes the metallic tang of blood.
But most days, he’s okay. Most days, he begins to forget that he’s in love with these men, begins to recover and get over them and watch as their relationships flourish. And most nights -- most nights finds him in front of the full length mirror in his room, just like he is tonight.
Jeongguk raises his shirt and runs a hand over the six tattoos on his ribs. A crown blacking out Seokjin’s name. A piano making Yoongi’s name illegible. A sun doodle swirling and obscuring Hoseok’s name; a book colored in a deep black, erasing Namjoon’s name. A pair of ballet shoes are positioned over Jimin’s name, and a delicate feather curls over Taehyung’s name. Each of the six little designs Jeongguk drew himself, and the artist he went to completed them all in a day. Nobody can see the names anymore; nobody but Jeongguk.
He can still see the press of the letters into his skin, a dip that even the deepest black tattoo ink can’t hide from his eyes, mocking him and taunting him, asking if he really thought that he could run away from his feelings and his destiny.
As Jeongguk drops his shirt and turns to the door of his bedroom to head into the bathroom, he decides that the answer is yes. He can run from his destiny, and he will run until his feet bleed and his legs give out beneath him. And even then, he won’t stop running until destiny could never even dream of catching him in her claws, because she fucked up. She fucked up Jeongguk’s life, and now -- now, he won’t allow her to fuck it up anymore. He’s finally sick of soulmates, sick of having his heart torn to shreds day in and day out, sick of suffering.
It’s time for him to move on.