Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He stares out of the window, cup of coffee in hand.

The sun is rising slowly. Intentionally. Stalling his release. His independence.

His mistake.

He shakes his head. Now isn't the time for hesitation. All along he had been too scared. But, now? No. Not this time.

Not when he isn't alone anymore. All he has to do is take the hand.

And maybe, maybe then he will find his freedom.

Taehyung looks at the newly arrived packages, scattered all around his office room. He feels giddy. He’s well past that phase of questioning the amount of excitement he harbors for such arrivals. It is natural. Just as much a part of him as the non-existence of reflex actions.

Just as he is about to go through the contents of the packages, there is a knock at the door

"Yes?"

The door opens, revealing a human form belonging to his colleague, Jaebum. "Taehyung, your packages came in today. I kept them-"

"In my office? Yes, thank you Jaebum", Taehyung says, smiling.

"Never a problem", Jaebum responds, walking inside and making himself comfortable on one of the tattered things they call his office couch. "But, really. What is it about these-", he makes a sweeping motion with his hands to imply that the subject of his query are the packages, "these little broken things that gets you off?"

Taehyung pouts. Maybe, furrows his brows a little, straightening his expression just in time to avoid confrontation. "The little broken things are pieces of my heart that you just shattered."

Jaebum chuckles. "Come on, Tae. Barely two months in, and you've swept The Boss off of her feet with your dedication already. And all of us know how difficult it is to please The Boss tee em."

Taehyung frowns. He shifts some of the boxes on the table, leaning on it, preparing himself to take the challenge of this conversation, head on. "No way in hell is Hyekyo pleased with my work."

"And what makes you think that? Some badge emboldened with the words 'Star Employee of the Century', which she hasn't given you?", Jaebum smirks, adding a barely disguised Yet under his breath.

"Hey I caught that", Taehyung says, glaring. "And, no. I haven’t done anything exceptional enough to please The Boss Tee Em", he adds with air bunnies (as he fondly calls them).

Jaebum quirks an eyebrow, almost as if asking for elucidation.

Disrespectful, Taehyung thinks, without any venom.

“Hyekyo still hasn’t accepted one proposal of mine. Intended towards the welfare of this place and the employees, mind you.”

“And how many has she accepted?”

“That”, Taehyung adds with a slight gulp, “doesn’t matter.”

“Oh. Come on. I’m sure it won’t prove anything.” Jaebum grins. That toothy thing he does whenever he thinks he has won. Keyword being thinks.

Taehyung sighs. “Three." Remorsefully, “Four, if you were to count the arrival of these packages.”

Jaebum shrugs. “QED.”

Taehyung gives in, smiling. He shakes his head. Kids, he thinks, says, “You win. Is that better? Don't you have work to do? Go on. I need some alone time with my 'broken little things'."

Jaebum stands up, sliding up to Taehyung. Leaning forward a little for dramatic effect, which he obviously fails to achieve since it is accompanied by a wiggle of his eyebrows, he says, "Tell me your secret someday and I'll introduce you to Wheein."

Taehyung shakes his head, pushing him away. "You’re insufferable.”

Jaebum simply shrugs, mouth pleasantly tilted upwards in a mischievous smile. "Suit yourself."

With that, he lets himself out. Much to Taehyung's relief, who throws himself on the emptied couch immediately.

His packages are currently residing on every other flat surface of the room. Including the palm of his hand.

He carefully opens the upper flap of the cardboard box and peers inside. Sitting amidst the royal mess of Styrofoam, is a tiny little coin. He stares at in awe. A little akin to love, but, who is to question it.

So maybe he is a little (a lot) in something like love (love, for sure) with these broken things. But that is his job. As Head of the Restoration Committee at the National Museum of Korean Contemporary History, Seoul, it is his absolute obligation to be in love with every broken little thing under their jurisdiction.

But, really, it’s just him. He is a teeny bit fascinated with all things broken. Most of the times it pertains to ancient structures and sculptures, carved with runes, waiting to be retrieved from the womb of history. Other times, its people. Friends, lovers, strangers.

Because if it is broken, it is his muse.

Taehyung ticks the last box on the Excel sheet open on his monitor with a click of the mouse.

He looks at his watch. Just in time, he thinks.

He has spent the last few hours cross-checking all the items in the packages with the special list he had curated before placing the order.

Powering off the computer, he moves outside to check on his colleagues.

Most of the workers have already left, or are in the process of doing so.

Now, Taehyung is a man of tradition. Call it irony that he chooses to work at a contemporary history museum. But, that’s not what he would say. You see, contemporary history isn’t as much about ‘occurring in the present’ as it is about a time frame in the recent past, evolving quickly towards the unseen future.

And, Taehyung? He has never been a fan of stagnancy. He certainly doesn’t look like a man with staunch, unmovable beliefs. And, he isn’t. He is liberal. But, never towards a mindset resistant to change.

He does make exceptions for his traditions, one of which stems from his requirement to look through the museum every night before his departure for home.

As he makes his way towards the Exhibit 4 Hall, which houses artifacts representing Korea’s Advancement, his eyes drift towards a figure standing in front of one of his favorite artifacts in the Hall.

The man is tall and broad. He looks young, and fashionable, going by the denim jacket he dons. At a more closer look, the man’s features strike Taehyung as familiar. He furrows his eyebrows, in an attempt at recognition.

The man unexpectedly turns, surprised to see Taehyung unabashedly staring at him.

Taehyung flushes a little, realizing how it must appear, scampering to make amendments. “I-”

“I apologize. I heard the announcement of the closing. I’ll make my way out”, the man hurriedly says, instead.

Taehyung seems confused for a moment. He follows the man's gaze on him, understanding the situation on realizing that the man has noticed his identity card, still hanging around his neck, bearing the official stamp of the museum.

He looks at the man, shaking his head, offering an embarrassed smile. “Oh no, not at all. There’s still some time. You may continue looking”, he offers.

After a moment of reflection, he adds, “Actually, I could give you a little insight on the artifact. You seem to like it.”

The man smiles, a little embarrassed himself. “I don’t do museums often”, he says with a light chuckle.

Taehyung returns the smile. Not all visitors are patrons of history, he has come to learn. And it’s not like he minds. In fact, he appreciates it. So, he says, “What matters is you’re here now.”

He shuffles closer, maintaining a respectable distance, close enough to be heard clearly, and not disturb the silence of the environment at the same time. (Atmosphere, he knows, is what makes a museum experience remarkable).

“What you’re looking at, Mr.-", he looks at the man expectantly.

“Jin. Seokjin.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he finally realizes who this man is. He regains his expression, trying to act unfazed.

“Yes, Mr. Seokjin. As I was saying, what you’re looking at is the Seoul Olympic Torch from the 1988 Olympic Games held here. It is one of my favorite exhibits, although I’m widely known to be very unbiased towards the pieces in the museum”, Taehyung says, grinning.

Seokjin looks on, amused, as Taehyung continues to explain the intricacies of the design.

“If you observe carefully, you will notice a Korean traditional painting embossed here”, he says, pointing at the middle part of the torch.

Seokjin moves closer to examine the artifact, nodding his head as he sees what Taehyung is referring to.

Although completely innocent, his action catches Taehyung off-guard, leaving the two men in close proximity of each other. They stand unmoving, surprised, for a moment (a moment too long, if you may).

Now, Taehyung has heard of Seokjin’s beauty, but up close and personal, he is willing to admit that the man looks surreal. So beautiful, that Taehyung doesn’t realize he is staring.

The speakers in the room abruptly blare, announcing the closing of the museum, separating the two of them.

Taehyung looks at Seokjin apologetically.

“I’m sorry, seems like our tour was short-lived.”

“Thank you, nonetheless”, Seokjin says with a polite smile.

The two of them fall into a weird silence, accompanied with guarded glances and awkward smiles.

"Um ", Seokjin initiates, clearing his throat, “Maybe you could tell me more about why this piece is an exception to your unbiased nature over a cup of coffee?”

Taehyung looks at him, brows furrowed just a little. He is taken aback, no doubt. But, at this hour, after having spent a long day tiring himself out, the promise of a companion and harmless conversations is enough to sway him.

So, he says, “Great idea.” Decides to be playful, and adds, “But, I don’t drink coffee.”

Seokjin’s expression falters a little. “Oh, oka-”

“But, Jjajangmyeon sounds good”, Taehyung says instead, grinning wide.

And he’s relieved (a little flattered, if he is being honest) to see Seokjin break into a shy smile.

“I know the perfect place for you”, Seokjin says, mischievous glint in his eyes.

He looks at the bags strewn across the floor. He has made sure to pack only a few necessary items.

His phone buzzes. It’s been buzzing for a long time now.

He doesn’t have the heart to look at it.

Too many people care.

But, that’s the thing. They don’t care for him. They care only for their time.

But, maybe he doesn’t care anymore.

Taehyung quickly closes the door to his cabin, securing the lock and pocketing his keys.

A few moments back, he parted ways with Seokjin at the entrance to the Hall, rushing back to his office room to pack his things and join Seokjin outside, eventually.

On his way outside, Taehyung wonders what someone like Seokjin is doing at a museum at this hour.

Taehyung considers himself technologically handicapped. He never understands, nor tries to implement the myriad things his phone company claims his phone can do. Which, in his opinion, is both a boon and a bane.

Bane, because he can't trust himself to find his way back home if he were to get lost in the city. Boon, because that way he has more chances of discovering nondescript places within this city he calls home.

Bane, because he doesn't have an avenue to discover new people and make friends. Boon, because that makes him socially more adept. Most of the times, he considers the boons to outweigh the banes.

At this instance, though, he is a little conflicted.

He knows who Seokjin, Kim Seokjin, is. Of course, he does. Who does not? Rhetorically speaking, of course.

That's the thing. Taehyung has heard the name, has seen the man on his television a few times. But, the primary reason for his familiarity with this name and this face, handsome face, if he were to be honest with himself, is his long-lived habit of reading the newspaper first thing in the morning. Unlike, a million other people, who choose to shove handfuls of brightly-lit screens in their faces immediately on opening their eyes, right before the real world can come into focus.

He has seen Seokjin's face plastered on entire sides of the newspaper pages.

He is one of South Korea's most popular models, after all.

But, he doesn't know much else about the man. Not being a fan of social media or gossip, restricts his access to more information about the man. Undoubtedly making him more than a little curious to understand what potentially one of Korea's richest men, could be doing at a potentially dangerous time to be outside. Alone.

He makes his way outside, the cold air hitting him. It is one of those harsh nights in Seoul.

Taehyung looks around, searching for Seokjin. He spots him hunched under a tree, hands wrapped around himself. Clearly, his special companion for the night has neither predicted, nor prepared for a nightly stroll.

“Hey!” Taehyung says, approaching him.

Seokjin smiles in return, raising his hand in greeting.

“You look cold. We could go out some other time, you know.”

Seokjin raises his eyebrows, shaking his head in refusal “No. I’m alright. I’ve experienced worse, trust me.”

Taehyung shrugs, not wanting to sound too concerned. “Where are we headed, then?”

“It’s not far away from here. Up for a walk?”

“Always.”

They walk side by side in silence. The cold winter breeze is blowing in the direction of their stride. Almost like it wants to push them closer to their destination.

Taehyung has always been a lover of nights. He considers himself a moonchild, in that sense. Not that he doesn’t like the bright days and the pleasing sun rays. Because he does.

But, secretly, he believes that the darkness bears power. For him, darkness brings with it a promise of light. And he has always been a sucker for anything that makes his blood tingle with anticipation. With wait. And so, he cherishes the night. Because it beckons the day.

“Go on, ask me.”

Taehyung looks at Seokjin, confused. “Sorry, what?”

“You wanna know, don’t you? Why I’m here?”

Taehyung catches up. Frankly, yes, he thinks. He is curious, but he thinks he can draw it out a little. The strangeness of obtaining comfort in the presence of a stranger comforts him.

So, he simply shrugs. Says, “Not really.”

Now, he has never been a keen decipherer of human emotions but the pleased look that dances across Seokjin’s moonlit face is a tad bit hard to miss. Maybe, they’re both more than a little comfortable, then.

“I do want to know, though.”

Taehyung returns his gaze at Seokjin to find him staring right ahead, as if he hasn’t just thrown another puzzle for Taehyung to decode.

“Sorry? What do you want to know?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“Your name, for starters.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes he still hasn’t introduced himself. He catches the look of amusement on Seokjin’s face, knowing his own face mirrors it.

“Kim Taehyung. You can call me Taehyung.”

“Well, hello to you, Taehyung. You can call me Jin.”

Taehyung smiles, shaking his head at the playfulness of the situation.

“This way”, Jin says, pointing at a narrow alleyway.

A few turns later, Taehyung sees himself staring at a smug little restaurant, exuding all the warmth the cold night is failing to provide.

They enter the eatery to find that it isn’t very crowded. But they still opt for a more private table, settling in and making themselves comfortable.

After placing the orders, when it seems like conversation can no longer be withheld, Taehyung decides to break the strangely comfortable silence between them.

“So-”

“How-”

The two of them look at each other in surprise, erupting into unrestrained smiles at the suddenness with which they’d both decided to speak at the same time.

“You go first”, Taehyung says.

“Alright. How long have you been working at the museum for?”

“It hasn’t been too long. A month and a half, I guess.”

Jin nods his head in acknowledgement. “You do look young.”

Taehyung smiles shyly. “I graduated recently. Not from here, though. I’m from Daegu.”

Jin seems to be taken aback by that. “Yeah?”

“Why do you look so surprised?” Taehyung asks, amused.

“I don’t know. You seem to fit in.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond, looks on questioningly.

Jin shrugs. Hesitantly adds, “You give off those Seoul vibes. I’ve lived here since forever. I can tell natives and non-natives apart, you know.”

Taehyung nods, slightly baffled by the admission. “I’m adaptable that way”, he says, trying to diffuse the intensity.

It has been fairly noticeable. The tension in the air. What’s most puzzling is that it doesn’t make him disconcerted. A little out of breath, yes. Like something unexpected is about to happen. And he’ll have to catch up. Maybe it’s Jin. His unpredictability. Or, not. Maybe it’s the two of them. And how they seem to get along like a house on fire. (Secretly, he’s pleased to think he finally gets to use the idiom).

Jin smiles, stretching himself out on his chair. Taehyung watches, entranced, as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes, letting himself unwind.

And in that moment, Jin looks every bit the gorgeous model that he is, and Taehyung can’t reign in his thoughts. And so they flow.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung expects a reaction. A whip of the head, a disappointed expression. But, nothing happens. Jin doesn’t seem disturbed by the intrusion at all. It’s almost as if he hasn’t heard the question. The only telling sign being the slight twitch of his lips. He lets out a long breath, straightening himself back to his original position. He rests one elbow on the table, palm splayed on his cheek, head plopped on his hand.

“If you don’t want to answer, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s alright. I owe you.”

Taehyung thinks about the admission, a little confused at the math. Decides not to pry.

“You know who I am, don’t you? I saw you staring. Back at the museum.”

Taehyung nods, relieved to be understood, and not accused.

“Now this is supposed to be a secret”, Jin brings the index finger of his other hand up to his lips to emphasize on the secrecy of the matter. “I live around here. Not my ‘public home’, no. It’s my real home. Where I live, or at least try to live. Without the noisy concern of the whole damn world, that is.”

Taehyung nods again, too surprised to be able to trust himself to say something appropriate.

Not that it matters, since Jin doesn’t wait for him to respond anyway. “Now, why was I at the museum earlier? And why am I here with you right now?”, he says, looking at Taehyung intensely. Taehyung feels the urge to gulp, to avert his gaze, but he perseveres.

“That’s for another day”, Jin finishes, accompanied with a wink.

Taehyung feels himself blush. Whether it is at the prospect of another meeting, or Jin’s brazen actions, God alone knows.

Thankfully, the waiter arrives at that moment with two bowls of steaming hot noodles.

“Dig right in, Taehyung.”

“So..”

“So”, Taehyung repeats. Too strung out to answer, too eager to let go.

They’re standing in the narrow cul-de-sac leading unto the restaurant.

“How did you like the food?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “That’s really not what you want to know, is it?”

Jin chuckles. “Maybe.”

Taehyung sighs in mock frustration. Their encrypted conversations are really not pleasant to keep up with all the time.

“I loved the food. 10/10 would recommend.”

Jin smiles fondly. Almost flattered.

“Good. That’s good.”

And, as has been regular amidst the two of them for quite some time, a warm blanket of silence settles, again.

“So..”

“So”, Jin replies, grinning.

“Do we part here?”

“I guess”, Jin says.

Taehyung notices the slight disappointment in his words.

What they have going on between the two of them is hard to explain, sure. Maybe, they’re just strangers in the middle of the night. Brought together by coincidence, about to be separated by destiny.

Or, they were always meant to find themselves here. Not because of destiny or chance, but because they’re two strangers, in search of unquestioning companionship and a desire to be free.

So, maybe it is only right that they would seek the comfort again and again.

So, maybe when Taehyung courageously asks for Jin’s number, Jin doesn’t offer it to him outright, without any hesistance. He only smiles, asking for Taehyung’s number, instead.

So, maybe it is perfect that they part with a promise to talk again, to meet again, falling from Jin’s lips.

So, maybe when Taehyung doesn’t question it, he is right too.

Or so he hopes.

He stands still, letting the stream of hot water evade his senses.

There have been plenty of mysteries in his life, the most important one being how his mind always calms down when forced to surrender.

And that’s what he is doing.

The hot water reddens his skin, the steam fogs the glass. His brain screams at him to move. But, he stays rooted.

And he feels calm.

Taehyung walks into his room, discarding his sweater along the way.

He plops face down on the bed, deciding he is too tired to clean up, and can be exempted.

Floating somewhere between the realms of dreams and reality, he tries to make sense of the occurring of the day.

He has always been anything but superficial. For him, relationships are important. He believes in being a loyal friend, passionate lover, ideal son. And he never conscionably tries to be one. He just is.

More times than not, he credits it to the kind of people he has encountered in his life. He knows he only gives back what they selflessly bestow upon him. Unconditional love.

He carefully obtains his phone from his pocket. The screen lights up, a scenic picture erupting into sight.

The picture is one he had taken back in Daegu. He can make out the faint outline of his quaint house in one corner of the picture, and the wide expanse of their farm stretching out as far as vision allows. The sun is dipping low, bidding farewell to the remnants of day, casting a surreal glow on the world.

Right in the middle is a silhouette. A carefree shadow. Beckoning him towards itself.

He smiles, that day still fresh in his memory.

Mindlessly, he dials the number, letting himself unravel but, for a moment.

On the first ring, his heart beat speeds up.

Too late, he thinks, sitting up, curling onto himself in a corner, phone in hand. Waiting.

“Tae?”

Now Taehyung has never considered himself dramatic, but, he is sure his heart skips a beat at the sound reverberating through his phone.

He doesn't dare say anything in response, worried he’ll scare the voice on the other end away.

“Taehyung? I know it’s you. Talk to me.”

“Hobi hyung”, he breathes out, sotto voce. Like it is supposed to be a secret between him and the darkness only.

He can hear the relieved sigh. He allows himself to smile a little, even though his heart is breaking.

"How have you been, Tae? It’s been so long”, there’s a slight pause, a light chuckle, “Okay, maybe not that long, but, you know I was never good at being away from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? We promised we wouldn’t do it to each other.”

“I know, but-”

“No buts. I’m glad you called, but I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting you to.”

Taehyung feels his heart break a little more. To know that he is the cause of someone’s unhappiness, that he made someone give up on something, something that was important, makes him feel small.

“It’s not your fault, Tae”, he hears Hobi say, like he knows that is exactly what Taehyung would do. Blame himself.

Taehyung collects himself, taking a deep breath, hoping his voice won’t waver. If this is what they had promised each other, then he would fulfill the promise.

“I’ve been okay”, I miss you, “Seoul isn’t anything like Daegu. You would love it here”, I wish you were here, “Work’s been good. I’m okay.” I still love you.

He hears a quiet laugh on the other end. A silent I missed you.

“How have you been?” he asks, holding his breath, not understanding why.

“Good. Or at least I hope. Not many people would benefit by me not being okay”, comes the reply, followed by a restrained laugh.

That’s just how he has always been, Taehyung thinks. Always mindful of how he affected other people. Always wanting to be a good influence.

“Hyung I-”

“Shh Tae. No”, the voice hurriedly says. Sounding frightened.

Taehyung’s heart sinks.

“I have to go, working a night shift. Call again, yeah?”

At the lack of response, the voice sighs into the phone. “Tae, come on. Promise me you’ll call.”

“I will”, he automatically says.

Sometimes, Taehyung wonders what it would be like if everyone got what they wanted. At times like these, he hopes he will never know.

Because he has been there. Too close to getting it all. Before it came crashing down on him. And of all people, he knows better than to neglect things of the past. Because history is a strange thing. Like a bubble floating right in front of you, very much there, still far out of reach. And, true or not, he believes it repeats itself.

That night as he falls asleep, he dreams of a familiar stranger in sunflower fields, laughing wildly, holding him too close. And awakes to the familiar feeling of a cold bed and another unnecessary day rising beyond his window.

Taehyung skims his gaze across every line on the page.

This morning, the arrival of the newspaper brought along with it an unusual anxiety.

His rendezvous with a high-profile celebrity last night had been exciting only as long as it lasted. Little had he known that in the aftermath, he would be worried sick that someone had spotted them, and that he had become an overnight sensation. More like an overnight menace since Kim Seokjin had many admirers.

As he finishes reading (more like scanning) the newspaper, he’s embarrassed to admit the relief that washes over him. At least the reporters for the newspaper he reads, have not gotten a whiff of his cute little dinner party.

He brings his cup of tea to his lips, taking a small sip. Contorting his face in disgust. The tea had gone cold.

His obnoxiously loud bell suddenly rings, making him jump at the intrusion.

He walks towards the door, looking through the latch-hole to be witness to a very bewildering sight.

An eye.

He opens the door to find Namjoon standing on the other side of the threshold. Unsurprisingly.

“How old are you, again?”, he asks, as Namjoon makes his way inside, followed by his pet dog, Joy.

The pristine white beauty nudges at his foot. Taehyung bends down to pet him, all while making some incoherent cooing noises.

Kim Namjoon is his neighbor. Not to mention, an obscenely talented person. He works, full-time, for a publishing company as an editor, and part-time for his father, a media mogul who had founded one of Korea’s most famous entertainment agencies, as a consultant. Now, he may not be qualified for his second job, but, he sure has the wits and wisdom to offer well-guided insights, and it seems to work.

“Good morning to you too”, Namjoon replies, a wide toothless smile plastered on his face.

Taehyung follows him inside, Joy at his feet.

“So, I heard you had a rather special night.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in shock.

“How? What?” he almost shouts, incredulous.

“Whoa, whoa. So it was really special, huh? I have never seen you this scandalized. And that’s saying something since you once walked in on me that one time I was getting it on with, what was her name-”

Taehyung groans. “I really don’t need the images in my mind, please.”

Namjoon lets out a hearty laugh.

“How did you know? Where I was last night?”, Taehyung asks with an urgency, not caring to disguise it.

“Well, we often over-estimate our ability to know. Because we never know, we don’t. We understand, sure. We realize, yes. But we don’t really know. We only think we know.”

“Namjoon-”

“Don’t cut me off, I’ll get to the point. Now, I don’t really know where you were last night. No, of course not. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t understand. I am a keen observer and often notice what others are careless enough to ignore. And for the ones who do observe? I can’t say much for them, either. Because they don’t think enough to realize. To know. So they live with the veil of delusion clouding their minds, which, mind you, is a dangerous way of living. Because, ignorance, my friend, is agony, not bliss”, he finishes with a flourish, like a preacher who has just giving his last sermon.

Taehyung stares at Namjoon, unbelieving.

“I saw you come in home late last night, so just made a wild guess”, Namjoon says, grinning.

Taehyung continues to stare at him, blank expression almost scarily dwarfing his features.

After a few moments of silence, Namjoon braves through. “So, you’re gonna tell me where you were? Your brilliant display of emotions in the past few minutes has, indeed, piqued my curiosity wildly.”

Taehyung sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t understand why life does this to me.”

“Does what?”

“Surround me with assholes like you.”

“Whoa, there there, young man, Joy is still an innocent baby. Mind your language”, Namjoon says, dramatically shaking his head, and covering Joy’s ears with the palms of his hands.

The dog, on the other hand, seems to understand nothing, and continues to lick ferociously at the discarded ball on the ground.

Taehyung sits down on the couch, giving up. “I met Jin.”

“Jin?” Namjoon asks, taking a seat on the opposite side.

“Kim Seokjin.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen comically. “The. Kim. Seokjin?”, he says, emphasizing each word unnecessarily.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“We had dinner”, Taehyung carelessly says.

Going by Namjoon’s expression, Taehyung thinks now it is his turn to look incredulous.

“You’re kidding? Because that really is funny.”

“No, I’m not. He was at the museum last night, and he offered we go out for coffee.”

“And you didn’t decline?” After a slight pause, Namjoon adds, “Well, who would deny the most gorgeous man on earth anything he wanted, but, you? You haven’t gone out with a living creature ever since you moved to Seoul.”

“Not quite accurate. You’re forgetting-”

“Joy doesn’t count.”

“Oh”, Taehyung says contemplatively, holding his next words back.

“So? How was it?”

“The food was nice.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Oh.”

“Taehyung?”

“Yes?”

Namjoon groans, sinking further onto the couch. “You’re such a pain in the ass, I don’t understand why I put up with you.”

“And I don’t know why I, you”, Taehyung replies, grinning.

They smile at each other, falling into a comfortable silence.

It has been two months since Taehyung moved to Seoul. He wouldn’t say he arrived with an intention to run away from home, to escape. No. Although, he would admit he has those regretful days, those delirious nights. But he knows that he came to Seoul with a sole purpose. And that was to build a new home.

And he doesn’t know, or understand, as Namjoon would rather, what having a home in Seoul means. This fast-paced city is ruthless that way. But, on mornings like these which follow the more delirious nights, he feels glad Seoul is how it is. Something that doesn’t care to pause. To let him catch up. And, so he runs, instead. Leaving behind the delirium.

And he never feels alone. What with Namjoon to annoy him. And, Joy, his little ball of sunshine to spend his unconstrained love on, and the million other people running with him. How can he feel alone? He feels complete. Like he has, indeed, found a home.

“You’ve been staring at me for a few minutes now. Reminiscing the events of last night? Anything worth my time?”

Taehyung sighs. He feels content. With his home, his work, his friends. His life.

“Taehyung?”

“Sorry. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

Namjoon makes a disgusted face at that.

“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad”, Taehyung huffs out.

“Whatever. I’m going to take Joy on a walk. When you think you’re prepared to give me some juicy details about the man of the hour, call me then. Only then.”

Taehyung smiles widely. Without much thought, he says, “Thank you.” Knowing (and not understanding, as Namjoon would rather) he means it.

Namjoon looks at him, face masked. Guarded.

“Call me whenever, okay?”

Taehyung smiles again, nodding.

Home is, indeed, beautiful.

From: LOML

Morning. Did you sleep well?

He looks at the text, smiling despite the hurt.

He contemplates upon his reply, deciding he doesn’t want to prolong what is inevitable.

To: LOML

I’m ready.

From: Unknown Number

Jjajangmyeon at 9?

Taehyung stares at his phone for a long time. Trying to make sense of the text that has just arrived. He cocks his head to one side, mentally preparing a list of all the people he knows, and who know him. That would be a lot of people, he thinks.

People who knew him well enough to know he liked Jjajangmyeon. Ah, better.

People brave enough to assume he would say yes.

He furrows his eyebrows. In the aftermath of his calculations and mental analysis, he finds his list empty.

Unless Joy knows how to text, he thinks, smiling at the idea.

His phone chimes again.

From: Unknown Number

I may or may not be Jin.

Taehyung stares at his phone. Again, not to mention.

It has been more than a month since their bizarre encounter. Whatever hopes he had harbored for some kind of contact from Jin had diminished over time. Not that one could blame him.

And now, here he is. Still staring at his phone, not to mention.

He puts his phone down. Closing his eyes. Letting out a long breath.

Now, there is no particular reason for him to refuse another meeting, or whatever it is that Jin has just proposed. But, you could say he is a little annoyed.

Yes, Jin is a busy man. Sure. But, he could be busy, too. And he doesn’t want Jin to have the liberty to just walk in whenever he wants and offer Jjajangmyeon, even though Taehyung would rise from his death-bed for Jjajangmyeon. But, Jin doesn’t have to know that.

Taehyung sighs, knowing he is acting up for no reason.

And Jin had been nice, the last time, he thinks. Their time together had given Taehyung’s mind fodder for thought for several days that followed.

One last time.

He picks up his phone, not giving himself time to reconsider, typing in the message quickly.

To: Unknown Number

Coffee at 9.

Taehyung stands near the entrance gate to the museum.

It is well past 9.

He has absolutely no clue as to how Jin is going to appear. The only response to his proposal (more like declaration) for coffee had been a smiley face.

He considers giving up and heading back home. Amidst all of this uncertainty, contacting Jin isn’t on his mind at all. Unlocking his phone, he glances at the time.

9:28

Maybe Jin is the coffee despiser, Taehyung thinks. Trying to soothe the slight hurt to his ego caused by having been forced to wait. Twice, now.

He feels irked, no doubt. Trying to control the mental debate raging on in his mind.

Why would Jin make contact if he knew he wasn't going to bother to turn up, he thinks.

Yes, their last meeting had been strangely comforting. So much so that Taehyung was hoping they would do it more often. Of course, he knew Jin was a celebrity who seldom got the liberty to move and act as he liked, but, a text would not have been that difficult to achieve. And now that there had been some sort of communication to assure Taehyung that the previous meeting had been very much real, and not something his imaginative mind had conjured up, Jin had just gone ahead and decided to bail on him.

How wonderfully professional.

He looks around. It's dark and cold and he's pretty much the only living, breathing thing for miles, unless you count the vegetation.

Suddenly, his phone rings.

He looks at the display.

KSJ calling, it reads.

He had saved Jin's number as KSJ, for obvious privacy reasons.

He has half a mind to ignore the call and pretend he has forgotten about the meeting just to gain some sort of sadistic satisfaction. But, the other half won’t let him, he knows.

Jin wouldn't call if it wasn't important, he thinks.

Sighing, he swipes the green button, bringing his phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Taehyung frowns, annoyed by the lack of response. He's about to unleash his rant about punctuality and principles, when he hears a sound that makes him go dead in his tracks. The sound of labored breathing.

"Hello?" he repeats, more carefully.

"Taehyung?" a soft voice whispers.

Taehyung furrows his brows at the sound. Something's not quite right. "Jin? Yes, it's me. Is everything alright?"

Silence.

"Hello? Are you there?"

"Um-", Taehyung hears Jin stutter. He sounds frightened, almost frenzied.

"Talk to me. Are you okay?" Taehyung says, more urgently now, clutching the phone closer with both hands, trying to catch any foreign sounds.

"Can you, please", a pause, "please. I don't feel good."

Taehyung grimaces at the undisguised plea. It's heartbreaking. "Where are you? I'll come to you."

"H-home", the voice breathes out. On the verge of breaking. Maybe, a little too broken already.

"Jin? Where do you live?" Taehyung asks, a little forcefully.

Silence.

"Come on, I need you to tell me", he breathes out roughly.

"L-location."

"What?"

"I've shared it. O-on your phone."

"Oh", Taehyung replies softly. Inwardly frustrated. He may or may not know how to figure out locations.

"I'll be there. Hold on", he says, resolutely, about to cut the call to work out Jin's location.

"NO!" comes the reply, shouted in his ear.

He winces at the loud sound, moving his phone away from his ear for a moment. "What's wrong?"

"Don't cut the phone."

Oh, Taehyung thinks. "I won't."

After a moment of silence, filled with the sound of breathing on the other end, he hears a meek, "Talk to me."

Taehyung gulps. Jin's not helping. He puts the phone on speaker. Looking through his messages, he finds Jin's, and clicks on the link.

"What happened Jin?" he asks, trying to initiate conversation.

"No, no", comes the reply. "Talk about yourself."

Taehyung pauses, trying to figure out the route, and handle a delirious Jin at the same time. "Um, ok, uh. I had a long day at the museum. I skipped lunch. Too much work", he says, trying to keep the conversation going.

Got it, he muses to himself, having understood where it is that Jin lives. He starts walking in the direction of the arrow on his screen.

"Jin? Are you there?"

"Y-yes."

Good, he thinks to himself. "Um so, my boss is on leave, which puts me in charge", he says, walking faster, eyes flicking between his phone and the road.

There's a small sound on the other end. A hum.

Improvement.

He looks to his right, going by the red spot on his screen which indicates his destination. Jin lives closer than he had imagined. Taehyung wonders why he would choose to live here, a nondescript suburb. Not a place privileged people like him would prefer to live in.

He turns to his right, entering a small lane lined with houses that look like decrepit mews.

"And one of the Committee members is getting married. So, his work is upon the rest of us too", he says. Pausing to look to his left, in accordance with the instructions on his screen. He stares at his phone, and the small building in front of him, confirming his destination.

"Jin, I'm here, I need you to open the door."

He lowers his phone, focusing on the small, whitewashed bungalow standing in front of him. From a distance, nobody would guess who the residents of this house were. At a more careful glance, though, it's easy to see that this house looks a lot less neglected than the houses on either sides of it. It's been painted on recently, the color a lighter shade than the rest of the houses. Glowing in the darkness, probably blending into the background in the morning light.

He opens the gate, a creaking sound piercing the silence of the night. He turns around to close it again, making his way to the front door.

Now, any other human being would probably feel a little cautious at having been led to an unoccupied, unremarkable, almost eery neighborhood.

But, Taehyung? He’s not thinking. He rushes to the front door, thinks better than to knock. Pushes at the door, hoping it would be open at the rare chance.

And, it falls open.

Taehyung looks inside. It's dark. "Hello?"

Silence.

And then he hears it, a meek whisper floating between him and the darkness. A silent I'm here.

He quickly moves inside, shutting the door behind him.

He fumbles along the wall, in search of the switches. Till his hand collides with a box-like structure. He moves his hand over it, careful not to bruise himself, realizing it's, indeed, the switch box. He pushes on all the buttons, and a small bulb finally lights up from somewhere in the middle of the large room.

And, he sees Jin.

Crawled in a corner of a raised platform near the window, phone in hand, eyes open, but not watching, trembling slightly.

He's having a panic attack, Taehyung realizes, the sight before him confirming his suspicions from earlier.

He bolts towards the figure, making sure not to touch.

"Jin", he says softly, trying not to scare him. "It's me, Taehyung."

Jin moves a little, slowly focusing his gaze on Taehyung, trying to adjust to the light after having been enveloped by the darkness for God knows how long. His eyes light up a little on recognizing the familiar figure. "T-taehyung", he says, moving to sit up, extending a hand for him to take.

Taehyung crawls closer, holding the hand extended towards him, his other hand moving to clutch at Jin's shoulder to provide support.

At the first contact, Jin slides upto Taehyung, shriveling and fitting his whole body against his chest.

Taehyung settles more comfortably, holding Jin close, rubbing his hand along his cold bare arms in an attempt at comfort. He doesn't try to initiate conversation. Knows it would only make Jin more perturbed. Instead, he decides to do what he had learnt a while back.

His deep voice penetrates the silence of the room, a soft melody he loves to hum. Jin moves closer to him, if that's even possible, at the sudden sound.

Taehyung continues to hum, slow and soft, hoping to calm, and not disturb.

They sit like that for a while.

After a few moments, when Taehyung thinks Jin's breathing has become less ragged, he gently whispers, "Jin?"

Jin doesn't respond. The only sign of acknowledgement being the way in which his hand curls tighter around a fistful of Taehyung's shirt.

Taehyung lets out a long breath he didn't know he was holding.

Not tonight, he thinks.

He checks the first message.

From: Yoongi

Are you sure about this?

He sighs, not understanding why everyone would doubt him.

He decides to ignore the message out of resentment.

A little out of fear.

Maybe, he doubts himself too.

Taehyung jolts awake at the distant sound of a bell ringing.

He looks around blearily, trying to make sense of the surroundings. Another body stirs beside him. He looks to his side to see Jin curled up in a ball, breathing normal, hands fisted around nothing. The events of the previous night come rushing to him, causing a sharp pain to shoot across his head. He hasn't eaten a proper meal in hours.

The bell rings again, a shrill sound that irritates him. He realizes it's someone at the door.

He walks to the door, pace quickening as the banging on the door increases.

He halts at the door, looking through the keyhole. He isn't sure if anyone else is allowed inside. If anyone is even informed of Jin’s whereabouts, or this house. He can't make the decision without Jin’s permission.

But no one knows me, he thinks.

At that thought, he opens the door slowly, not allowing much room for whoever it is outside, to glance inside.

There, in the light morning glow stands a man, not too tall, not that short, either. He has huge glasses on, frame a bold black. His hair is dyed mint green. Obnoxiously so. But he manages to pull it off rather well. Not that Taehyung is looking.

"Who are you?" the man irritably asks.

Taehyung decides to put up an act, guessing this man is some nosy neighbor. "Um, I live here?" It comes out more as a question, than a declaration, and Taehyung prays the man doesn’t notice.

The man shakes his head in response. "Are you a burglar? Or just another lay of his?" he asks, pointing inwards with a raised finger.

Taehyung stares at the man with a puzzled expression. He wants to know how the man knows a 'him' lives in this house.

"Who are you?" he inquires, instead.

"Wrong question."

"What?" Taehyung asks, confused.

"Exactly."

Taehyung raises an eyebrow in question. It's too early for this. He's too spent for this.

The man sighs exasperatedly, like Taehyung is silly for not having understood. "The correct question would be, 'what are you?'"

Taehyung doesn't respond. Whoever this man is, he sure is whimsical, he thinks.

"Go on, ask me."

Taehyung frowns. "Why would I do that? I'm sorry, I don't know who you are, but whoever you're looking for isn't here."

He moves to shut the door but the man wedges his foot against the slit, preventing the action.

"I know he is here. Ask me the question. Quick", he adds with a sneer.

What the fuck, Taehyung thinks. He looks at the man, who looks borderline feral at this moment. Better to get this done with.

"What are you?", Taehyung breathes out, internally cringing.

The man nods satisfactorily. He leans forward, exerting his body weight on the door, opening it wider, and says, softly, almost like a whisper, "The cause of your death."

Taehyung shrieks as the man pushes the door open all of a sudden and veers inside.

"Jin? Are you here? Who's this boy?'

Taehyung stares at the man's back incredulously. How dare he walk in like that? How does he know Jin is here? But, most importantly, how dare he call him, a grown ass man, a boy?

Taehyung hurriedly shuts the door, chasing the man.

He spots him in the middle of the room, frozen, eyes on the forlorn figure still sound asleep near the window.

"What do you think you're do-"

The man moves towards him, clutching at his collar, almost scarily so, which is rather funny since Taehyung is definitely taller and broader than the man.

"What happened to him?" he asks softly, another rather funny paradox, since his actions are nothing short of aggressive.

"Who are yo-"

"Just answer the damn question, punk. I don't have the time or patience for your bullshit."

Taehyung audibly gulps, the next few words spilling from his mouth. "I don’t know, he called me last night and I found him here. I’m guessing he had a panic attack”, pausing, he softly adds, “I have a little experience.”

The man releases him, turning around and walking towards Jin.

He carefully leans over his figure, a palm held up, softly caressing his forehead, moving the sweaty bangs aside.

"Jin? It's me, Yoongi. I'm here. Wake up."

Jin stirs. Still very much asleep.

The man, (apparently some Yoongi), sighs. He settles on his haunches, shaking Jin's body, still gentle.

"Jin, come on. Get up."

At that, Jin seems to awaken. He moves slightly, blinking multiple times. He stares at Taehyung, brows furrowed, and then at Yoongi, expression straightening.

"Yoongi?", he asks, voice a little hoarse. He suddenly bursts into a bout of cough, body trembling with every surge.

Taehyung looks around, eyes searching for water. He spots an unused bottle on a side table. Fetching it, he passes it to Yoongi, who quietly pushes it into Jin's waiting hand.

Taehyung shifts on his feet, wondering what would be his next appropriate step.

Yoongi solves the puzzle for him. "You can go. I'll take care of him."

Taehyung looks at Jin, who still seems to be a little lost, and nods.

The last thing he sees is the image of Yoongi enveloping Jin in a tight hug, and Jin clinging harder, before the door shuts in his face.

"Do crabs have feelings?"

It takes a little too long for Taehyung's mind to register the unconventional question. "What?" he slurs.

"You're drunk", Namjoon replies.

Taehyung wants to laugh, but his mind can't process the request. He ends up emitting a sound somewhere between a whine and a grunt. "As if you're not", he replies.

Namjoon manages a chuckle. "What does being drunk even mean?"

Taehyung sighs in frustration. He really needs to discover a way of phasing Namjoon's monologues out.

"Am I drunk, you ask. Of course I am. I'm drunk on this thing called life. Is it even a thing? A thing of the past, present and future. I'm drunk on mistakes of my past. Drunk on expectations for the future. But", he says, emphasizing on the tee sound, clicking his tongue in the process, "am I drunk on the present?"

There's a dramatic pause.

Taehyung thinks Namjoon has finally, graciously, passed out.

"I'm so drunk, God", Namjoon says, dropping his head in his hands.

That makes no sense, Taehyung thinks. He smiles to himself. This was definitely what he meant when he said he wanted to hang out with Namjoon.

They do this some times. More often nowadays.

The thing is Taehyung hardly ever goes out with friends or colleagues. And Namjoon? He hardly ever stays at home. So, they compromise. Taehyung welcoming the company of a living, breathing thing, Namjoon discovering the joys of being indoors.

But that isn't really the thing, either. Because nothing certifiably sane ever comes from these compromises.

For instance, right now, they're punch drunk. And two complete fools, benign friends, and men with issues only ever exploit such a state of delirium as a means of escape.

To what, no wise person knows.

Tonight, they're at Namjoon's house.

Even though Namjoon has several avenues for leading a privileged life, he chooses to live low. Not that the concept of a being a prodigal son doesn't fit well with him. Because secretly it does, Taehyung knows. The only difference being Namjoon doesn't associate prodigality with money. For him it's about thriftiness of generosity, of kindness. Of curiosity. So maybe he is a little overwhelmingly idealistic. And, maybe Taehyung loves him a little more for that.

They don't have to spend too much time in each other's company to understand that they are essentially built of the same fundamentals. Taehyung always feels a little disillusioned by how his imaginative mind leads him to be labelled as 'strange' more often than not. But, in Namjoon, Taehyung finds an equally creative (or, strange, as they like to put it) spirit. But to Namjoon's credit, he is a teeny bit more articulate.

 And, Taehyung? He’s always liked silences. But, he’s more of a conversationalist. He likes to talk, to listen, to smile, and to make someone smile. There’s nothing he craves, but the promise of understanding. And Namjoon understands.

So, Taehyung finally says, "Hobi hyung texted today.”

Quietly. Hoping Namjoon won't hear him. That the words would just hang in the air between them until Taehyung would realize he wasn't prepared for the discussion, and he could snatch them back.

But he also knows Namjoon is acutely aware of how Taehyung functions. Emanating from the fact that he himself functions similarly.

"Yeah?"

He doesn't push. Doesn't try to falsely encourage. Or scare Taehyung away.

And Taehyung likes it this way. Likes the freedom. Likes the concern. Because it never feels stifling. Always welcoming, instead.

"He's coming to Seoul next month", Taehyung says, slowly. After a moment, he adds, "He didn't call."

Namjoon hums, adding more ice to his glass. The clinking sound of it clashing against the sides being the only sound interrupting the quiet.

Taehyung sighs.

"Why won't he call, hyung?"

Taehyung recoils at how small his voice sound. How vulnerable. He's almost scared of baring his insides to someone, but he perseveres. Because this is what he has learnt from a long, tedious history of bottling up emotions and letting them swallow him up whole, instead of spitting them out. Of therapy. Of endless appointments.

"He's keeping his promise, Tae", Namjoon replies. Even more softly. Like he's trying to console himself, and not Taehyung.

"But, I broke mine."

He knows he's asking too much of Namjoon. Knows Namjoon can only provide comfort, not real answers. But, maybe he doesn't want to hear the real answers.

So, he asks, "Does he hate me?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Namjoon staring at him. He doesn't dare to look back. He's on the edge. All it will take is a reassuring glance, a comforting touch, and he'll come toppling down.

He craves it. He fears it.

"Why do you think so?"

Taehyung feels relieved. A little disappointed, maybe. He doesn't know.

"He won't call", he says, making himself smaller. Voice losing all intent. Eyes closing.

Another painful night, he thinks.

He wants to let it all out. Wants someone to tell him he didn't do it all wrong.

Not tonight. Again.

The last thing he recalls is a slurred I broke my promise leaving his own lips. Feeling foreign.

 He puts on a simple white tee, baseball cap enforcing his bangs over his eyes.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he feels detached.

When did everything change, he wonders.

The answer that comes to him is a scary whisper.

It never changed. It’s all about to change. Now.

On days accompanied with severe headaches, zero awareness of one’s surroundings, and a willingness to give it all up, it’s usually recommended to immerse yourself in something you like to do.

Taehyung partly believes in it, almost swears by it. Partly, he vehemently disagrees with it.

Especially today.

His watery eyes are a clear indication of how drowsy he feels. His hands shiver at odd times. Maybe it’s a sign. That he should stop typing so fiercely. The report on the latest project undertaken by the Committee can surely wait. Since, he is in-charge.

But the minute he stops, unwanted thoughts begin to occupy the deepest crevices of his mind.

People say drunkenness is a state of utter comfort. Maybe, they’re right. Sure.

But, Taehyung? He doesn’t fit in in the regular mold of people. He tries to. But it’s like every cell in his body is focused on trying to set him apart. To make him an exception.

People also say drunkenness is a state of chaos. When you’re out of control, and do what you wouldn’t normally.

And even though exceptions can’t be considered as examples, Taehyung justifies what people say. Yet, he contradicts it, too. Maybe, he is full of ironies.

But, it doesn’t really matter.

What matters is Taehyung wakes up on the morning of his and Namjoon’s drunken wild night adventure to find two very overwhelmingly scary things confronting his existence.

Two scary texts, to be precise.

Thankfully (or, not) at least one of them can be ignored. Under the guise of being strangers.

Because it’s from an Unknown Number. Can be discarded, yes.

What does it read?

Meet me at 9pm sharp. Some important issues need to be addressed.

Now, the message in itself is very non-threatening.

But, it has been signed Yoongi.

And Taehyung still hasn’t gotten over his fear of small men with hair dyed mint green. The fear that originated from Yoongi, yes, that one.

Now, the other message is what disturbs Taehyung even more. Because it is one he, himself, is supposed to have sent.

So, maybe he doesn’t remember having sent it.

But, that’s the thing. He can totally imagine a drunk version of himself being aware (read careless) enough to send the message. Can imagine himself being that sentimental (read foolish).

The issue is he needs to handle the consequences in a very much non-drunken state.

What does the message read? (Or seem to read, at least)

I lovr u hyng. Plzz call mw.

And it’s addressed to a certain ‘Hobi hyung’.

And maybe, the certain ‘Hobi hyung’ has read it. Not to mention, left it on read. Not to mention, Taehyung is internally dying, coming alive every time his phone as much as vibrates.

The things one does for love, Taehyung thinks.

His report is made. Complete with an excessive number of references. More segmentation than required. Proper grammar. First-time usage of the Thesaurus too.

And now, he has no other option other than confronting his demons. Yoongi and Hobi, to be precise.

Unless I block both of them, travel to the Himalayas, throw my phone from the highest peak, followed by yours truly, Taehyung thinks.

So, maybe he’s overreacting. But, who can blame him, really?

Namjoon. (Yes, he answers his own rhetoric question).

He picks up his phone from the table, cradling it in his palms, like it holds the answers to the world’s greatest mysteries. Knowing full well, it is the cause of the world’s greatest miseries. One of which Taehyung faces in this very moment.

"Hello”, Namjoon answers at the first ring.

“Hyung, there’s an emergency.”

“Yes? Did you agree to go on a date?”

“No?”

“So you’re not sure whether you agreed to go on the date or not?”

Taehyung groans. “Hyung, I don’t have the patience for this. My head hurts already.”

"Why would you agree to go on a date, then?”

“I didn’t!”

“But, you wanted to! I see what the problem is, now.”

“Hyung! There’s no date! Can you focus?”

He hears a low chuckle. “Man, I love messing with you”, comes a reply, interrupted by a low laugh.

Taehyung almost rolls his eyes. Why he puts up with Namjoon, he doesn’t know.

“Hyung. I told you about the mint green hair guy, right? From that night.”

There’s a hum on the other end.

“He texted. He wants to meet me.”

There’s a pause. Taehyung opens his mouth to ask if Namjoon is still there, when a confused noise interrupts him.

“So? What’s the problem here?”

Honestly, who said Namjoon was smart?

“I don’t want to meet him?”

“Are you confused about it? Please don’t speak to me in a questioning tone, really disturbs the flow of a non-textual conversation.” There’s a slight teasing tone to Namjoon’s voice. Taehyung can almost imagine him smirking to himself with the satisfaction of having successfully riled him up.

But, Taehyung’s not that easy. Especially not if Namjoon decides to be difficult.

“I don’t want to meet him.”

“Then, don’t.”

"You don’t understand.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I’m rethinking my whole life”, Taehyung sighs. “He’s my only way of reaching Jin. I know I have his number but, after what happened that night, I wouldn’t want to initiate conversation unless he does.” Pausing, he adds, “I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“So, meet mint green hair guy.”

"But”, Taehyung almost whines, dropping his head to the table. “He’s scary.”

Now, it’s Namjoon’s turn to sigh.

“Taehyung, listen to me right now. You’re a grown man. You can handle this without freaking out. You’ve done nothing wrong, and green-haired guy can’t do nothing wrong to you. He probably isn’t even that evil, I’m sure.”

Silence.

“Alright, I’ll accompany you”, Taehyung hears Namjoon say, resigned.

Taehyung perks up at that. “Thank you, hyung! You’re the best!”

There’s a slight pause, and Taehyung’s sure Namjoon is shaking his head, small smile tilting the corners of his mouth upwards. When did the two of them become so domestic, he wonders, smiling himself.

He hears a soft, almost gentle Brat whispered in his ear, before he cuts the call.

Maybe, it won’t be that bad after all.

In broad daylight, Min Yoongi, looks unforgiving. Taehyung still remembers the unblinking eyes, can still sense the air of authority if he lets himself drift.

In the darkness, though, Min Yoongi still looks very much the same. If not a little more ruthless. Or it's just Taehyung's fear speaking for itself.

Currently in one of Seoul's most expensive diners, seated around a round table, Taehyung questions his willpower. Questions why he's so powerless when it comes to Namjoon. Questions all of his life's decisions.

Yoongi is seated to his right, Namjoon to his left. The events leading unto this very moment have been very non-confrontational in nature.

Yoongi had greeted them at the entrance with only a nod of the head, not minding the additional guest, leading them to the table. He had quickly slipped in an introduction of himself, namely, "I'm Min Yoongi, working as Kim Seokjin's Advocate. I manage his legal affairs. I'm also a close friend of his." And before anyone had the opportunity of acknowledging it, the waiter had approached with the food, as if on cue, order obviously having been established in advance.

The dinner had passed in silence, Taehyung losing all of his appetite at the thought of having to eat in the midst of two very powerful, privileged men. So he sat, sinking further into his seat, as the moment of truth drew near.

"So, Taehyung?"

Taehyung doesn't register the question, still dazed. Namjoon snaps his fingers in front of him to get his attention.

"Yes? Sorry", Taehyung says apologetically, red-faced, embarrassed already.

Yoongi clears his throat. "Yes. Time to get down to business, I suppose", he offers a tight-lipped smile. One that Taehyung presumes he must have practiced several times on serial offenders he is about to demolish with contracts and deals.

Taehyung slowly nods, giving Namjoon a fearful glance. Namjoon smiles in response, his presence a reassurance.

"I apologize to you for my behavior that morning."

Taehyung's mouth falls open. He doesn't even try to disguise how puzzled he is. He had thought out this whole scenario multiple times in his head, and it had progressed in this manner in none of them, to be particular.

"Sorry?"

"Exactly", Yoongi says, smiling. Still not entirely genuine. Or it's just Taehyung's being morbid. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Your presence was just very unexpected. And", he pauses, hesitation etched on his features, "I wasn't in the correct state of mind."

Taehyung simply nods.

"Listen, Taehyung. Jin is a very close friend of mine. I don't just manage his work on the professional front. He relies on me on a personal level, too." Yoongi eyes Namjoon, eyebrows raised, "Can I trust you to be discrete?"

Namjoon nods. Yoongi looks back at Taehyung for confirmation. "He's a good friend of mine. And, very trustworthy", Taehyung says, voice unwavering. Internally proud of it.

"Alright", Yoongi says. He sighs, removing his glasses, placing them on the table. He looks reflective. Borderline dismal. "I'm supposing everyone knows what Seokjin does. His profession. It- it's very taxing, to say the least. And he has a mind of his own. Rightfully, so. Hopefully, so." He chuckles, shaking his head, eyes closed.

Taehyung observes him carefully. He has been there. In Yoongi's place. He understands. And he has learnt better than to offer any kind of sympathy. Because people in any kind of predicament never wish for sympathy. It's actually the last thing they wish for. Empathy, he knows, is a rare and valuable asset. "I'm sure it is", he says, making sure to keep any kind of consolation out of his voice. 

"Um, I don't mean to interfere", Namjoon says, out of a sudden. Taehyung looks at him, accidentally letting out a confused noise. Namjoon gives him a sheepish look. He continues, "Whatever has concurred remains between Jin and Taehyung. I think it would be best if the two of them would figure out any further course of action. Which", he gives Yoongi a professional smile, "also involves any kind of conversation about Jin's standing, physical, professional, or, emotional."

Taehyung feels himself being put in a rather awkward position. He wants to know more from Yoongi, yet, he knows Namjoon is right. He chooses to be silent.

Yoongi lets out a long breath. He nods politely. "I understand. I just have to make sure Jin's entrusting his faith in the right person."

Taehyung continues to look between the two men, baffled at how the tables have turned, and how he is no longer under any kind of direct threat. He almost feels like he doesn't belong here. That this discussion is not for him to hear. He's partly relieved to have passed the baton to Namjoon. Partly intrigued by Yoongi's words. He thinks now would be a good time to take charge. "Mr. Yoongi, I-I don't know what you're talking about. I met Jin twice. Only. Both times, we made sure to stray far away from any kind of personal exchange."

"Yet, you're the only person, apart from me, who knows about his house", Yoongi interrupts. "Not to mention, you've been there, too."

Taehyung opens his mouth to counter, realizing it really isn't a war of words. Yoongi sure is making a valid point. It simultaneously makes him annoyed, and confused. He looks at Yoongi, who's visibly upset. Like Jin's behavior has been affecting him more than it should.  

"Look. Jin is his own person. He's free to do whatever he wants. To live wherever his mind desires. To invite anyone his heart desires. But", he pauses for emphasis, voice dropping lower, expression still friendly, "You must remember I'm always going to look after him. I'm watching."

Taehyung, on the other hand, doesn't feel threatened at all. So, he says, "I'm glad."

He glances around his living room, taking in the surroundings. One last time.

Any signs of his occupancy have disappeared. 

He ought to feel emotional. Maybe, a little regretful. But, he doesn't.

Isn't this what he had always wanted?

He had wondered what would happen if he let go.

He's about to find out.

Taehyung breaks out of his daze at the sudden sound of a howl. He looks around, spotting a stray dog. 

He smiles at the irony of his situation. He's back to where it all started. Standing at the museum entrance, night at his feet, eyes searching for any signs of Jin. The difference being he isn't worried about being rejected this time. 

What has changed, he asks himself. He gets no answer. 

And that, in itself, makes a lot of sense.

Change is never instantaneous. It's gradual. Never prominent. Always subsidiary. A result of something else.

So, this morning, when he received another partially cryptic message, he didn't feel the need to avenge the wait. Because he didn't feel hurt. Even though quite a few days had passed since his meeting with Yoongi, and, there had been no initiation of contact on Jin's part, either.

What changed? He doesn't know.

On time, he thinks, as a black sedan approaches him. Headlights piercing through the darkness, like some superior deity setting the right path aglow. The path to Taehyung.

He smiles, raising a hand in greeting, even though the windows are tinted black, and he knows Jin can't really see him in the darkness. 

The car stops right in front of Taehyung. He looks through the window to the back seat, puzzled on finding nobody inside. Right then, the window to the driver's seat rolls down, revealing a well-masked Jin. He's wearing huge black sunglasses (why in the world?), and his facial features are hidden under a white face mask (what a shame).

"Hey", Jin says.

"Hi? Are you here to kidnap me?"

Jin chuckles, certainly not expecting that. Taehyung inwardly imagines himself pumping his fists. What this special meeting of theirs is, he doesn't know. Come to think of it, he hardly knows anything. Other than the fact that the night is beautiful. And Jin, even more so. (Even though you can't see him, but maybe, Taehyung isn't thinking about his face).

"Get in. Don't try to create a fuss, I have a gun", Jin says, clearly amused by his own sense of humor. 

Taehyung fake gasps. The sound annoyingly high-pitched. Maybe, he regrets it. But, how can he? Not when Jin is pulling down the mask to reveal a radiating smile plastered on his face.

"Come on."

They drive in silence. Taehyung doesn't know where they're headed to. But, he likes this. The company, the soft music playing in the car. He closes his eyes, resting his head on the head-rest, almost drifting.

"Are you tired?"

Taehyung hums. Conversation seems too tedious. Inviting, at the same time. He's conflicted. Between wanting to lay here, Jin's presence a solid thing beside him. The noise of the city cancelled, yet not. And, wanting to actually go wherever Jin decides to take him, charm on, need to impress constant.

Maybe, he doesn't know the destination. But, maybe, he likes the journey more.

"We could go somewhere else. Somewhere more peaceful", Jin pauses, thinking through his offer, adding, "As long as you promise to not fall asleep."

Taehyung half shrugs, the movement of his lax shoulders not sharp enough to be understood. So, maybe, he is tired. Hasn't slept well in days. Loves the atmosphere here, inside the car, more than he should. But, he can't forget that Jin is very much here. A living, breathing thing he promised to go out with (if that's what they're even doing).

And he can be sluggish, but, he can't not be charming. (He tries to be, at least). So, he says, "Der weg ist das ziel."

Jin frowns, making a questioning noise. "Was that in a language I don't speak, or can I not understand my language anymore?"

Taehyung laughs. A booming noise. He loves this. The snarkiness. The playfulness. So, maybe he doesn't know how they got here. How a total of two encounters could make him feel so belonged. So settled. Like he could drive all around the world with Jin and he wouldn't find it strange. On the other hand, he finds the idea enticing. Decides to talk to Jin about it. Maybe, talk him into it, too.  

"The journey is the destination."

Jin hums. "You speak German?"

At that, Taehyung finally gives in. Opens his eyes to gape at Jin. Feels himself blush to see Jin staring back. Mischievous glint in his eyes intact.

What changed? Nothing, really.

"You knew?"

Jin shrugs, eyes back on the road. "Maybe."

And maybe, Jin likes it too, Taehyung thinks. Wouldn't want it again if he didn't. But, Taehyung's just a man. Doesn't understand the difference between what really is and what only feels like it is. So, he chooses to be wise. Chooses to never presume. Chooses to be seeking, instead.

"Where are we going?"

"Hmm. I was thinking of taking you to dinner, but, it isn't really a night suitable for dinner, don't you think?"

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows. "It isn't?" (So, maybe he's a little afraid, but, no one has to know).

"Up for a walk?"

Taehyung smiles. The memories of their first meeting a real thing floating in the air around them. Rushing to him. And he thinks it isn't a coincidence that history can be a real thing between two people. More than dynamics, or chemistry, and all that jazz. 

So, he says, "Always."

Taehyung looks at the sky above.

He likes this. He smiles at the number of times he has made the admission, now. A small voice in his mind tries to tell him not to jinx it. But, what's a voice, or a mind, when all he can feel is the soothing rhythm of his own heartbeat. He feels at ease. And he likes it. 

He brings his gaze back to the Earth. The Han river, a glorious presence. Sometimes, he thinks he likes the river more than he does the city. What's Seoul without Han? he thinks.

"What's Seoul without Han?" he says.

Jin chuckles, head thrown back. He pushes himself to the ground, becoming one with it.

The cold night breeze blows past, making Taehyung's hair stand on end. He wonders how safe this is. Even if Jin has carefully picked this spot, far away from the more crowded locations around the river, hidden by the bushes and shrubbery. He still doesn't want Jin to land in trouble. But he can't get himself to care that much. Not with how relaxing this is. How much he loves it.

"You non-natives don't deserve this city. All you ever care about is the damn river."

Taehyung looks at Jin, face hidden in the dark shadows, silhouette being the only telling sign of his presence. He can make out the amusement in his voice. Laced with mock resentment.

"That's not what I meant", Taehyung says, knowing he hasn't really offended him, still wanting to explain. "I'm new to the city. On some days, I love it. And, then I grow tired of it by the end of the same day. Maybe, I haven't seen enough. Maybe, I have seen enough already."

Jin lets out a sigh. "Seoul got you good, huh?"

Taehyung smiles, light gaiety masking the uneasiness settling in his gut. He is very much like a cascading waterfall. Always ready to spill. All he needs is someone to jostle him enough. To move him enough. Sometimes, he wonders how easy he goes. Spills. Can't seem to help it. Has so many transient thoughts, it's a need to get them out. To make sure they're addressed.

"What makes you love the city?"

Jin looks at him, shifting so that the light illuminates him enough for a proper conversation. 

Taehyung feels his breath catch in his throat as he looks back at Jin's figure. The moonlight falls just right on him. He reminds himself it's Jin, the gorgeous man embracing covers, and spreads, screens, and billboards. By now, he should be used to the beauty. Blame it on his weak heart or his appreciative mind, then. Because he still can't help but trace every line, every feature on Jin's face with his gaze. Sharp features casting shadows on some parts of his face. Face a piece of art. Sculpted. Irradiated.

"This", Jin says, voice low, gaze intense.

It takes a minute for Taehyung to process the simple word. To associate it with the other end of their conversation. To the question that had slipped out of his mouth. Spilled.

"This?" he asks, staring contest still very much ongoing. Neither of them willing to give up. The other only reveling in that piece of information.

Jin hums. Finally, oh so slowly, shifting his gaze to look up at the sky. "It never stops, you know. The hustle-bustle of this city. It keeps going. Keeps me going."

Taehyung continues to stare, words filling his mind, mind still a haze. Jin speaking. Words spilling.

"You wonder how we're here? Now?" Jin asks. 

Taehyung nods slightly. Can't bring himself to interrupt the moment. To stop Jin. Stop him from spilling.

"I do, too. I don't know. But, maybe it's the city. Yeah?"

Taehyung doesn't know. Maybe, it is. Maybe, it's not. Maybe, it's time. And destiny. And, maybe it's not. "Yeah."

"I think I lost the right to call it my home a long while ago."

"Yeah?"

Jin hums. "I've been working since I was, what, 14? No, 13. Yes."

Taehyung hums in response, saying no more. Wanting him to spill.

"Yeah. Work takes me places. Sometimes, here, in Korea. Most times not. I feel like a nomad. Always on the move. Appointments, assignments, here, there", he sighs. "This? This city is special because it's the only place in the whole wide world that I can call home. If there even is one", he finishes, voice borderline unhappy. 

Taehyung shifts, hating the disturbance it causes, not pausing because he wants it. Wants to put some distance between their pair of eyes. He lies down farther away from Jin, inclined at an angle from his figure, hand curled under his head. The tips of his toes brush against Jin's calves, and he withdraws immediately, wincing at how obvious the movement was.

"Do you miss home?" Jin asks, voice quiet. Like he already knows the answer. Wants Taehyung to say it anyway. Wants him to spill too.

And, that's the thing. About Taehyung wanting Jin to spill. Because, it has to be either of them. If not Jin, then him. And he? He spills easy. So easy.

He hums, mumbles something neither of them understand, nor care. He shuts his eyes, images flashing in his mind.

Home.

His small, cozy apartment in a high-rise here in Seoul. Namjoon, a common fixture. Joy, his means of happiness.

All of it resembles home. But, never as much as what he tries to keep boxed in a corner of his mind. His heart. Box full of memories. Full of things that remind. That make him feel. Make him feel at home. 

Farms, acres and acres of lush, green farms. And, rains. The contentment of a good monsoon. His grandmother. Her smiles. Her humming voice a buoyant thing in their house. And Soonshim, his dog, his best friend. If he focuses enough, he can almost recreate the image of his grandmother petting the dog, feeding him, bathing him. Can see a younger version of himself watching. You have to do this someday, Taehyungie, Soonshimie will need you when I'm gone.

Raucous, resounding laughter. A blinding smile. A hand falling into place, intertwined with his own. A tug. More laughter. Come on, run faster. Younger Taehyung giggling, shouting, Wait for me, Hobi hyung.

He feels his throat constrict, prospects of spilling more prominent than ever before. 

If he thinks about it, he feels fortunate. To have so many places in the whole wide world to call home. Is it really a blessing, though? He doesn't know.

So, he says, "This is my home."

Jin hums in response. Doesn't prod. Doesn't ask why it took him so long to answer. Doesn't ask what this is.

Silence envelopes the two of them and the night around them.

"You never asked", Jin says, breaking the silence, peace a necessity, but, conversation a high. 

"About what?"

"Everything. The museum. My house. That night."

Taehyung shifts, not wanting to tread uncomfortable ground. If he's honest with himself, he knows that he really doesn't want to know. Would rather time tell. But he appreciates Jin's honesty too. Says, "Tell me, then."

"Work", pause, "Gets exhausting, I guess."

Yoongi's words come back to him. He wonders if Jin knows. Decides it's for another time. "It's okay, Jin. It really is. You don't have to-"

"But I want to. There's nothing to hide. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Taehyung shifts a little more until he's lying on his side, Jin's face in front of him, the other still on his back. 

Jin doesn't acknowledge the movement. Continues, "The last few years have been even more stressful." He lets out an embarrassed laugh. Like the idea of being stressed isn't for privileged people like him. Taehyung feels the urge to erase any kind of doubt from his mind. To make him feel less of whatever this is. This self-deprecating shit. 

"I can only imagine. Too many people care about your life."

Jin nods, finally shifting to lie on his side too. "So I like to run away from them. Somewhere. Anywhere."

Taehyung nods. He can see the worry in the way his mouth contorts, like the thought, the idea itself is abominable. And he wants Jin to feel better than that. Not like he owes him an explanation. Not when it leaves behind a bad taste in his own mouth. So, he says, "I understand. You don't have to tell me anything more", Jin opens his mouth to counter, but Taehyung shuts him up. "Shh, no. I don't want to know. I don't care if you run away. I do that too. It's why I'm here. 'S why I miss home."

He knows he's being cryptic, knows Jin may not understand. Still hopes. Spills.

Jin nods, eyes boring into Taehyung's, understanding etched on his features. Concern in his eyes. "Alright. We'll go slow."

"Slow", Taehyung repeats, small smile playing at his lips. 

And, Taehyung admits, again, that even though he likes to keep his feelings at bay, likes to admire them from afar, he still likes this. Likes to feel if Jin's around.

Likes to spill.