Archive of Our Own

Yoongi is no stranger to glares and strange stares. He’s dealt with them his whole life. When he was a kid, the members of his dad’s gang would stare at him in surprise as he passed, following his father, only half his height with double the intimidation - a feat for a seven year old. Now, he gets nothing but respect from the members of his dad’s gang. But the people on the streets and in his university give him the same looks he’d received as a child.

The stares don’t bother him anymore. The lingering looks and the mothers tugging their children away don’t bother him. It used to. Not anymore. He’s resigned himself to only speaking to the other members of the gang. Short, painful conversations where the men Yoongi speaks to don’t even look him in the eyes.

As he steps through the creaking door of his father’s warehouse, he feels the oh so familiar cold draft hit him. He’s never liked where his father based their gang, it’s dingy and gross - not to mention, below them.

His father is one of the most powerful men in South Korea… subjectively. Yoongi thinks power stretches beyond money and social standing. His father has contacts everywhere, and is in good standing with just about everybody. There is no rival gang to them, not anymore. There were a few that tried to take them down, but nobody could touch them. They specialize in fighting, and since they’re mostly comprised of mercenaries, rivals were taken down swiftly and quietly.

Yoongi is expected to take control of the Bounty Hunters once his father either retires or dies, but the man doesn't seem to be doing either any time soon. But, even with his lack of power, he is the silent force driving the Bounty Hunters. He’s sent on every job as either the headman or backup. And when he backs up, he’s still delivering the final blow. He’s strategic and quick thinking - his father had always said he was built for this life. But Yoongi disagrees.

He never wanted this. While, yes, he might have been raised thinking this would be the life for him, he doesn’t want it, not now that he’s older. He’s been enamored with graphic design since he was a child, but didn’t understand that he would be able to do it. He wants to create branding and art in ways to draw people in. He loves the eye catching billboards scattered across their broken city and has always wanted to make some of his own.

So he went to school. Since he moved out of his house at fifteen - per his father’s orders - he was able to save up the money he earned from working for his father and enrolled at Seoul National University. His father didn’t know, and Yoongi doesn’t plan on telling him. All his jobs take place after dark anyways, so it isn’t a set back. In fact, Yoongi sees his life after dark being completely separate from his day life. He’d prefer not to merge them.

But there is one tiny thing that keeps bleeding over in the slightest bit. The boy from the 24 hour coffee shop.

His nametag read Taehyung when Yoongi first stumbled in after a long night of camping outside of a corporate building. They’d planned on grabbing the CEO as he left work and bring him back to the warehouse - their rival company had asked them to threaten the man into submission - but the CEO never came out, and they had to assume he either didn’t come in, or left through a back door.

Yoongi had a paper due the next morning, so he needed the caffeine to keep himself up until it was finished. He’d recognized Taehyung as a boy in his Astronomy class. He sits right in front of him and will often turn around to ask Yoongi questions. Sometimes they’re logical, like, “How many moons does Jupiter have?” to which Yoongi will check his notes and tell him. Or they could be totally random and strange, like, “What does it feel like to scream in space?” And at Yoongi’s confusion he’ll continue, “I know sound doesn’t travel in space, but what do you think it feels like? If you took of your space helmet thing, could you hear yourself? Or would it just be a weird feeling in your chest?”

So yes, Yoongi recognized the boy, and finally learned his name when he glanced at his nametag. And in turn, Taehyung recognized him. He seemed to perk up at the sight of him in the dead cafe, whether it was because he recognized Yoongi or because he had something to do now, Yoongi didn’t know. But Taehyung waved excitedly and greeted him as “Astronomy Boy”, luckily asking Yoongi’s name when he went to write his order on the cup.

He didn’t question what Yoongi was doing at the cafe near two in the morning, and for that, Yoongi was thankful. They chatted a few times in class after that, Taehyung always sparking up conversation by asking a strange question, and Yoongi listening to him divulge on his theory until he finished before he would either aid his idea or contradict it. He’s always liked Taehyung. He likes his open mindedness, his kindness, and his selflessness. He considers what many don’t and thinks before he speaks.

Yoongi has heard the students a few seats away from them whisper about how strange Taehyung is, but Yoongi sees differently. Taehyung, might seem like an enigma, but he really isn’t. And that’s not a bad thing. If you don’t read between the lines with him, you won’t understand him. But if you think about what he’s saying and where it might be coming from, he asks valid questions and makes honest points.

Yoongi can tell how much time the boy spends in his head because he’s the same way. Except when Yoongi speaks his ideas they are understood and followed by his brothers in the gang.

“I don’t think we’ll catch him if we wait in one spot,” Yoongi hums, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly as he asks, “What makes you say that?”

“He’s onto us. He knows we’ve been watching him and he’ll do anything to avoid us. If we split the team up to cover each exit of the office building one of us will surely catch him.” Yoongi pulls his legs down from where they are resting on the table in front of him. “Make sure to kill his car battery, just to be safe. We’re running out of time to get our hands on him without notice, eventually his paranoia will peak and he’ll call the cops.”

Jungkook sits on the idea for a moment before he nods to the others at the meeting table, ordering them to disperse. Jungkook is his father’s right hand man, and many would’ve expected there to be tension between Yoongi and the younger, but the two get along swimmingly. Often, Yoongi takes Jungkook out on difficult jobs and treats him to drinks and food. If Jungkook wasn’t so respectful of Yoongi, they surely would have more issue, but Jungkook treats Yoongi like the hyung he is.

Unfortunately, that much can’t be said for Seokjin. Jungkook loves to tease the older IT expert.

“So that’s break for the night,” Jungkook hums as Yoongi stands slowly. He rocks back and forth on his heels for a moment, his hands tucked into his pockets.

Yoongi spies the body language through his peripheral and mutters, “I’m not buying you food, brat.”

Jungkook lets out a high pitched whine, contradicting every bit of energy he exuded up until that moment. “But - But hyung, please ?”

Yoongi shakes his head and glances around the room to make sure it’s just him and Jungkook. “I have a shit ton of homework to finish, kid.”

Jungkook grumbles unintelligibly under his breath, his voice clearing up as he says, “Why’d you even have to go to that school, huh? You don’t need a degree, you’re the best at what you do now!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he throws on his jacket. “But what I do now isn’t what I want to do for the rest of my life, Kook.”

Pursing his lips, Jungkook lets out a long breath.

“I’ll buy you food after we finish this job tomorrow,” Yoongi reassures, patting a hand down on Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’ll catch you then.”

Jungkook lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I’m holding you to that, hyung!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and steps out of the room, walking swiftly through the rest of the warehouse before he pushes the door open and steps onto the street. The warm spring wind brushes across his cheeks and he takes in a deep breath, letting his muscles unwind. He feels good.

I know how to make this night even better, he thinks to himself as he turns to move closer to his university. Coffee

The second Yoongi hears the bells on the door above his head chime, he hears Taehyung call out, “Yoongi hyung! Come here!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and walks over to the counter. “Where else was I going to go?”

Taehyung ignores him as he fishes his phone out his apron. “Look at this dog.” He turns the phone around to show Yoongi and picture of a short brown dog with curly fur and a pink tongue sticking out of its mouth.

“It’s cute,” Yoongi hums, smiling softly at the photo.

Taehyung smiles devilishly. “If you owned a dog that looked like this, what would you name it?”

For a moment, Yoongi considers the question before answering. “Holly.”

“Holly?” Taehyung repeats. “What if it was a boy?”

Yoongi’s lips quirk slightly. Truth is, he likes the name Holly, and he’s too lazy to come up with a boy name he likes. But he knows how to get Taehyung up and spinning so he says, “Can’t a boy be named Holly?”

“Oh!” Taehyung exclaims, dropping his phone on the counter. “You’re right! I don’t understand the concept of boys and girls having certain names, you know?”

Yoongi nods, and watches as Taehyung speaks himself in circles, theorizing about the origin of the idea and how we might be able to change it today. He loves listening to Taehyung speak. His voice is low and soothing, it makes Yoongi wonder if he’s ever tried singing, or maybe hosting a late night radio show.

“-If we were to start with dogs, we might make some progress - Oh wait . I forgot to tell you!”

Yoongi blinks in surprise. “Huh?”

“This is Jimin!” Taehyung points to a boy perched on a barstool, observing Yoongi with sharp eyes. Eyes that immediately soften as soon as Yoongi glances at him.

“Hi,” Jimin greets, smiling broadly and sending Yoongi a little wave. His voice is a lot different than Taehyung’s, not nearly as low, and much more melodic. “I’m Park Jimin. I’m Taehyung’s friend.”

Yoongi nods in greeting. “I’m Min Yoongi, Taehyung’s classmate.”

Jimin’s eyes slide over to Taehyung and his smile grows. “You were right, he really isn’t that scary if you talk to him.”

Yoongi arches an eyebrow. “What?”

“It was nice to meet you Yoongi,” Jimin hedges as he hops off the stool, sending Taehyung a wave before heading for the door.

Yoongi takes his seat at the counter, the cafe now devoid except for them. “Your friend is a character,” he hums, leaning on his elbows.

Taehyung chuckles and turns around to wash his hands. “What do you want to drink tonight? The usual?”

Yoongi cracks a small smile and nods. He tugs out his phone and scrolls through his texts, seeing one from Jungkook reminding him about the food he promised.

“One black coffee,” Taehyung says cheerily, wiping off his hands on his apron before hopping onto his stool across from Yoongi’s, probably placed there earlier when Jimin was still here.

Taehyung leans on the counter, steepling his fingers as he watches Yoongi gingerly sip the steaming coffee. “So,” Taehyung starts slowly. “What’s kept you out so late tonight?”

Yoongi gazes at Taehyung over the rim of his mug, sipping and swallowing slowly before lowering it to the counter. He lowly mutters in warning, “Tae…”

“I know, I know, you’re the man of many secrets, and I’m just that guy at the coffee shop.” Taehyung huffs, waving him off as he turns towards the register. He pretends to be doing something, but Yoongi can see he’s just shifting around the receipts under the counter.

He feels bad for not telling Taehyung everything, but he can’t drag Taehyung into this mess. He can’t get somebody else involved when he’s trying to un-involve himself. So, instead, he takes another sip of his coffee, treating the burning on his tongue as a punishment for being a dick.

“Did you finish the project?” Taehyung asks, straightening up.

Yoongi wets his lips, clearing the coffee, before responding, “No, I was going to go to the computer lab after this and do it.”

“Shouldn’t the lab be closed by now?” Taehyung asks, sitting back down and propping his feet on the bar across the legs of the stool.

Yoongi shakes his head, swallowing his coffee. “No, not the one in the mezzanine, that one doesn’t close.”

Taehyung seems to cringe. “Isn’t that one, like, ancient?”

Yoongi frowns. “Is it? I wouldn’t have anything to compare it to,” he mutters, fiddling with the mug.

“You haven’t been to the others? There’s, like, five labs on campus.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I only ever go to the computer lab after the others are closed.”

“Yeah, but… that one sucks. The computers are super slow, and the chairs aren’t even comfortable!” Taehyung seems to pout a little at the idea of Yoongi going to the mezzanine’s lab.

Yoongi snorts. “What do you want me to do? All the others are closed.”

Taehyung nibbles on his lip and fiddles with his fingers. He opens his mouth slowly, like he still hasn’t come up with what to say. “I have… I have the program on my laptop, you should… just use my computer instead of those slow ones.”

There’s a long pause where Yoongi just looks at Taehyung. They are barely friends, they don’t even have each other’s numbers, and Yoongi isn’t nearly ready for Taehyung to throw this at him. He’d honestly assumed they would stay barely friends, he has never considered anybody outside the gang his friend.

Taehyung shifts in his seat, his eyes wide and gaze diverted to the far side of the counter, his lip tucked between his teeth.

Yoongi takes in a deep breath. He would love to make a friend outside of the gang, it could help strengthen the total contrast between the two and show him which one he wants more. He wants to, he really wants to.

“I shouldn’t…”

He can’t risk getting close to people, not right now. He doesn’t want to drag anybody into the mess he’s in - especially not Taehyung. He wants to protect Taehyung from anything bad, he’s too good for this world.

Taehyung’s head drops and he looks at his hands. “That’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He picks his head up, plastering a smile on his face. “You don’t know that much about me, who knows, I could be a criminal.”

I know a lot about you, you don’t know a lot about me. I’m the criminal.

Yoongi steps out of the tall SUV and onto the concrete of the parking garage, his sneakers’ thud echoing off the walls. The garage is mostly empty, aside from several cars scattered around the large open room.

He shifts the hand his cigarette is in and pulls his blade out of his back pocket and crouches behind a red sedan, swiftly running his knife’s blade across each tire before standing and returning to the black car waiting for him.

They drive to the backside of the building, pulling up as close as they can to one of the five exits. As Yoongi climbs out of the SUV he tugs his walkie off his belt and presses the call button. “Everybody in position? Count off.”

Each group says their number in order until they reach five and Yoongi quickly reminds them “If the person coming out the door isn’t the CEO don’t fucking touch them” before he  returns his walkie to his belt. “I want you two on either side of the door, I’ll stand on the other side of you. If he comes out this door grab him, don’t let him pull out of your hold, hear me?”

The two men nod and move into position next to the door. Yoongi leans up against the wall next to the others and brings his cigarette to his lips, deeply inhaling before blowing the smoke out in front of him, swiftly caught by the warm wind and carried down the alley.

He’s just letting out his fourth puff of smoke when they hear faint footsteps from inside. Both his men tense as they prepare themselves and he almost wants to remind them that if this isn’t the CEO they aren’t going to move an inch, but he doesn’t want to risk getting caught just yet.

The door swings open and both his men turn just as the CEO steps out, his phone pressed to his ear. As soon as the others have a hold on the man, Yoongi snatches the phone out of his hand and ends his call. He catches sight of the number just before he ends it, though, and he immediately glares up at the man. “He called the fucking cops.”

He grabs his walkie again and radios, “Cops are on their way, scatter.” He doesn’t wait for a response and pushes the man back into the wall, his men letting him hit it. Yoongi presses his forearm up against the CEO’s throat, sending off the other two. “I’ll catch up, get out of here.”

“Boss, we can’t just leave you, there’s no way you’ll beat them without a car.”

Yoongi diverts his glare from the CEO to his men. “I said get the fuck out, did you not hear me?”

Both the men seem to cower slightly before they bow their heads and jog towards the SUV, getting in and slamming on the gas.

“You taking one for the team, tough guy?” The CEO chuckles hoarsely, his hands gripping Yoongi’s arm tightly.

Yoongi looks back over at the man, his gaze darkening even further. “You better shut your fucking mouth you piece of shit, or your teeth are gonna be scattered on the concrete.”

“Awe,” the CEO pouts, his tone mocking. “All brawn and no brains I see.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirks up slightly and he presses his arm harder on the man’s throat. He visibly panics, and his grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens. “Are you really in a position to be throwing around idiotic statements?”

The sound of sirens can be heard in the distance, and Yoongi decides he should probably finish this job. He throws the CEO to the ground then crouches over him to slam his head back down into the ground. The man stares up at him, his eyes disoriented.

Yoongi presses his hand against the CEO’s jugular. “I was sent to tell you the deal with that Swedish company is off. And if you try to contact them again, I’ll remember to bring my gun next time.”

He stands over the man for a moment longer, watching as his eyes begin to roll back in his head, waiting until the last second to pull his hand away. When he stands up straight, he realizes how much closer the sirens are, but not close enough to worry Yoongi. Their response time is improving…

Just as he bolts out the alley, he stumbles into a bystander. A tall and bulky, older man, who looks at him in confusion before whipping his head towards the alley. Yoongi doesn’t get the chance to run before the man has grabbed his arm and is yanking him back.

“Did you kill him?!” the man shouts lowly, pointing towards the unconscious CEO.

Yoongi shakes his head, and puts on his most shaken expression as he stares back into the alleyway. “H-He attacked me while I was passing that door, a-and I pushed his - his head up against the wall and then h-he just fell like that and I-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the man says soothingly, letting go of Yoongi’s sleeve. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you who was attacked.”

Yoongi backs away, from the man and wrings his hands together. “I’d like to go home now, if that’s okay… I already called the police,” he motions towards the sirens slowly growing closer. A knot slowly tightens in his chest and he backs away slightly.

The man nods and looks around the dimly lit street. “You live nearby?”

Yoongi nods. “Just around the block.”

“Okay, well, get home safe.” He sends a small wave and says, “Sorry.”

Yoongi quickly shakes his head and smiles at the man, making sure to still look a bit upset. “No! Don’t apologize, I’m glad you took action. If that were me on the ground, it would’ve been a life saver.”

The man chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

“Have a nice night, sir.” Yoongi calls shakily as he whirls around and jogs away. He turns the block where he told the man he lived. He follows the streets and alleyways he has memorized all the way back to the warehouse, making sure to check behind him for anybody following him.

When he steps through the door, he’s an hour later than the others, and he finds everybody in the common area, some men lounged on the couch and others leaning against the wall behind them. The part that has Yoongi so unsettled is the silence blanketing the room. And his father sitting in the chair directly across from him.

His father sneers at him, frozen outside the open door. “Get in here,” he all but growls.

Yoongi slowly steps inside, his face passive as he scans his eyes over the room. Most men look expressionless, like himself, some look irritated. Jungkook’s gaze is different though, he watches Yoongi with worried eyes and pursed lips. Seokjin refuses to even look at him.

After a long pause, his father pushes himself off the chair and walks towards Yoongi, his gaze deadly. “You realize the jeopardy you put us in tonight?”

Yoongi tries to recall a moment that he was reckless or not mindful enough. When he comes up empty, his father is still staring at him with hard eyes.

“I hate to admit that I don’t recall a moment that I slipped up in.” He’d intentionally made man outside the alley believe he was the person attacked, not the attacker. He avoided the police without a hitch. And he got all the men on the team back to base.

At this, his father sighs sharply and turns away from Yoongi, his hands on his hips and feet far apart.

He’s trying to make himself look bigger… damn fool.

His father doesn’t look at him as he says, “Leaving any one man behind is a risk to us all. If the cops figure out that we’re the one behind an attack we’ll have the damn target on us again.” He turns back to Yoongi, lasering his glare on Yoongi’s indifferent eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be smart, tactical. But it turns out you’re just as pea-brained as the others.”

There’s a small shift that ripples through the men standing behind his father, all of them masking any emotions that were caused by that statement.

“Look at me, you piece of shit, who do you think you are?”

Your son. Yoongi looks back over at his father and bites his tongue, taking in a long breath to control himself. He’s sure his father’s teeth are going to break if he keeps his jaw clenched that hard.

“You need to be taught a lesson. And I’ll teach all you dumbasses one too!” He whirls around and points at him men, his gaze pointed. “This kid,” he pokes a finger into Yoongi’s chest, the force behind it painful again his sternum. “He’s just a kid. He’s of no higher standing than you - he isn’t your superior.”

Yoongi swallows and tenses as he suspects what his father is about to say.

“A little birdy told me you’ve been defying my exact orders and telling your brothers do to something else.” He backs Yoongi through the doorway. “Is that true, Yoongi?”

When Yoongi goes to respond, he keeps his face blank and body relaxed. “Yeah.”

Just as his father’s temper spikes, Yoongi’s back hits the door. As his father’s fist flies towards his cheek, Yoongi knows he could dodge him easily, but that would only piss him off more. So Yoongi takes the punch, letting himself stumble at the force of it.

“Pussy,” his father mutters, kicking Yoongi in the ankle. The force and pain of it makes Yoongi fall back on the wall, his footing slipping out from under him as he slides down the plaster.

The man rolls his eyes and crouches in front of him. He grabs Yoongi’s chin and observes the split skin on his swelling cheekbone. “Doesn’t look like I got through to you,” he grunts. He stands up straight and kicks Yoongi in the stomach. While Yoongi hunches forward in pain, his father grabs the hair on the back of the head and lifts Yoongi’s weight slightly. He drops him back down, and Yoongi doesn’t get the chance to pick up his head before his forehead is being shoved backwards, his head hitting the wall painfully. His vision blurs slightly, just by the force of it.

“Get the fuck out.”

Stumbling down the street, looking like he just got mugged, doesn’t seem to raise any red flags on this side of town. So Yoongi is left to aimlessly wander around and hope for his mind to clear enough to figure out how to get back to his apartment.

He has to blink hard every once in a while to bring his vision back into proper focus, bumping into things like dumpsters and road signs often, making him cringe as the rippling through him spikes.

He wobbles through the streets, expecting his head to clear, but it seems it only gets worse. His eyelids grow heavy, his movements slow. He processes things very slowly, seeing a street sign he knows well and turning left.

I know this path well, I must be heading towards my apartment.

But as he walks further down the road, he finds it difficult to pick up his legs. He keeps pushing himself until he stumbles into a wall and collapses, unable to hold himself up anymore. He lets his eyes slide shut, ignoring the ringing pulse in his head.

“Hyung?!” a voice calls from across the road.

Yoongi immediately recognizes the voice as Taehyung’s. As much as he wants to run away, he can’t undo what Taehyung has seen. Taehyung knows he’s been beaten, and no matter what he does now doesn’t change the fact that he’s seen it, so Yoongi stays where he is, leaving his eyes shut.

“Shit, hyung!” Taehyung is closer now. Yoongi hears him crouch in front of him and lifts a hand to shove him away, but all he does is press it against Taehyung’s chest.

He cracks his eyes open enough to see Taehyung’s worried face as he surveys his cheek. “Go ‘way,” he mumbles.

“What?” Taehyung scoffs. “Fuck off, I’m getting you inside.”

Then Yoongi feels his arms being tugged upwards and he does all he can to help Taehyung pull him onto his feet. He stumbles slightly, but doesn’t fall this time thanks to Taehyung taking half his weight. He slings Yoongi’s arm over his shoulders and slowly leads him towards the cafe.

Once they’re inside Yoongi ducks his head, his eyes not accepting the bright lights well. “Tae, just… just let me rest for a second at a table and I’ll be good.”

“Bet,” Taehyung huffs sarcastically, dropping him on a chair. “Wait for a second, I’m grabbing the first aid kit.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, expecting to see the cafe empty at this time of night, but there’s one other man inside. His eyes are wide as he stares at Yoongi, and Yoongi is surprised to say he can recognize him. He’s another regular that frequents the cafe at this time of night. They’ve never spoken to one another, but they see each other often and at most exchange small greeting. The guy can’t be older than Yoongi, and just about every time Yoongi sees him, he has a huge array of books in front of him as he studies.

The man stands from his booth on the other side of the room and walks over to Yoongi. He leans down to survey his cheek and asks, “Where else are you hurt?”

Weakly, Yoongi motions to his turning stomach, stinging ankle, and pounding head.

“The back of your head?”

Yoongi nods and lets the man pull him forward slightly to survey the affliction.

“You’re bleeding back here, that would explain why your so woozy. The concussion looks to be right on your occipital lobe, so your vision is pretty fucked up, huh?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbles, closing his eyes again as the man leans him back again. He wants to take a long nap, but he has homework to do tonight.

Footsteps near from behind the counter and Taehyung calls, “I’m sorry about this Namjoon hyung.” He steps in front of Yoongi, blocking his view of the other regular - Namjoon.

“No, don’t apologize, I’m glad you grabbed him,” Namjoon steps to the side to still see Yoongi. He watches as Taehyung applies cream to Yoongi’s cheek, then presses a small band- aid over the cut. “I’ll grab some ice,” Namjoon calls, turning towards the counter.

“You know where to find it?” Taehyung asks, not looking away from Yoongi as he looks at the back of his head.

“Yeah, I got it.”

Taehyung lets out a hissing breath as he looks at the wound on the back of Yoongi’s head. “There’s a little bleeding here, but I can’t do much more than clean it up for you. Maybe I should take you to a hospital.”

Yoongi pulls on Taehyung’s shirt, unable to shake his head with Taehyung holding it. “N-No,” he whispers. “Please, no hospital.”

Taehyung grabs a towel and gently dabs at the blood on the back of Yoongi’s neck. “I fuckin’ knew you’d be one of those badass types.”

“Huh?”

“You radiate bad bitch energy,” Taehyung mumbles, moving Yoongi’s head so he can look straight again. “Fine. No hospital. But you can bet money I’m not going to let you walk home. Where else are you hurt?”

Yoongi points at his ankle.

Taehyung kneels and lifts his pant leg. “Jeez,” he breathes. “Who the fuck-”

“I got mugged.” Yoongi winces as Taehyung touches along the dark bruise already painting his shin.

Taehyung glances up at Yoongi’s face, forgoing his ankle for a moment. “Bullshit, but go off I guess.”

“What?” Yoongi doesn’t understand his phrasing. “The fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Taehyung chuckles softly.

Namjoon returns with ice and hands it to Yoongi. “Can you press that against your cheek?”

The amount of strength it takes to raise his arm is infuriating, but Yoongi lifts the ice to his cheek and presses it against the swollen area.

Namjoon notices the trembling of Yoongi’s arm and drags over another table. “Here,” he says, grabbing Yoongi’s elbow and resting it on the table. “Lean on this.”

Yoongi does as he says, pushing himself off the back of the chair to lean onto the table in front of him. He feels another ice pack pressed against the back of his head and sighs in relief. He already feels better.

Still knelt at Yoongi’s feet, Taehyung rolls up his pant leg and touches around the area. “I don’t think it’s broken, maybe just sprained.”

Yoongi grunts in response and relaxes as Taehyung wraps the third bag of ice around his ankle.. He sees the two others pull up chairs across from him, Namjoon sitting on it backwards to lean on the back of the chair.

“So,” Namjoon starts slowly. “Did you see who this was that mugged you?”

Yoongi shakes his head.

Namjoon sighs and looks around the cafe in thought. “Well, he needs to get home and rest, but we can’t let him fall asleep for a while, concussions are tricky… I have a friend that can come pick him up and drive him back to his place.”

“No,” Yoongi mutters, shaking his head. “I don’t want to put anybody out of their way more than I already have.”

Taehyung sighs loudly. “Joon hyung, call your friend. We need to get him home so he can rest.”

Against Yoongi’s defiance, Namjoon stands and dials his friend. Yoongi looks over at Taehyung, his glare set heavy.

Taehyung levels him with a deadpan expression. “You don’t scare me, hyung, I know you’re a softy. You probably just want a bed right now, and I’m trying to help you out.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You literally collapsed on the sidewalk.”

Yoongi huffs and turns his head away from Taehyung.

“Hoseok is on his way,” Namjoon says, pocketing his phone as he takes his seat.

“Jung Hoseok, the second year?” Taehyung asks.

When Namjoon nods in response Taehyung brightens. “I know Hoseokie! We’re in the same creative writing class, he wrote this really impressive poem - the whole class was blown away.”

“Yeah, he’s a really impressive author. You should read some of his short stories, I’ve compared his style to Ernest Hemingway too many times.” Namjoon beams. “He’s been my friend since middle school.”

Taehyung’s smile falls slightly. “I don’t have any of my old friends here, so I’ve been trying to make some new ones.”

At this, Yoongi glances over at Taehyung, guilt biting at his tumultuous gut.

“Here,” Namjoon grunts as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “Put your number into my phone, I need to repay you for all the free muffins anyways.”

Taehyung smiles excitedly, quickly typing his number into Namjoon’s phone.

Yoongi feels terribly out of place, and a bit awkward. While those two are exchanging numbers and becoming friends, he’s literally hunched over with three ice packs pressed up against different parts of his body.

As if sensing his awkwardness, Namjoon looks over at him.

Thinking of how to avoid Namjoon asking him to put his number in his phone too out of pity, Yoongi lets out a pained hiss and shifts his leg.

“What?” Taehyung gasps, looking over at Yoongi, his smile gone. “What’s wrong?”

Yoongi shakes his head, careful to not let the one of the back of his head fall. “My neck is tired, that’s all.” It’s not a complete lie, it is starting to ache a bit due to his head being hung for too long.

He isn’t expecting much of a response, but Taehyung stands and pulls his chair over to Yoongi to sit across from him, their knees touching. He moves Yoongi’s elbow from the table to his leg. “Lean your head here,” he mumbles, making sure Yoongi does as he says.

Yoongi isn’t sure what this is going to solve, but leans down and presses the ice to his cheek. He almost jerks back when he feels Taehyung’s hands against his forehead, but then he realizes the younger is supporting his head. “What… are you doing?”

In this position, Taehyung is very close to Yoongi. His voice is suddenly a lot more overwhelming when he says, “You said your neck was tired.”

Namjoon stands, his phone buzzing in his hand. “Hold on, it’s Hoseok.” He answers, letting Hoseok speak for a moment before he says, “What do you see?” He walks to the other end of the cafe, looking out the front windows.

“It looks like Hoseok hyung is a little lost,” Taehyung murmurs, shifting to keep Yoongi’s forehead in his hands.

It is quiet except for Namjoon quietly speaking to Hoseok on the other side of the room and Yoongi can’t bear it. Being this close to Taehyung and not speaking is building a tension inside Yoongi. He doesn’t mean to, but he blurts, “What are you studying?”

“Huh?”

“Wh-What’s your major?” He realized he’d never asked Taehyung before and can’t help but feel guilty.

“Psychology,” Taehyung hums and suddenly his voice sounds like it’s only an inch from Yoongi’s ear. “What about you?”

Yoongi has to collect himself to be sure his voice won’t waver as he says, “Graphic design.”

“Why graphic design?” Taehyung asks quietly.

If Yoongi looks up enough, he can see Taehyung’s lips, so he keeps his gaze trained on the boy’s knees instead. “I dunno, I just thought it’d be cool.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi wets his lips. He never did think Taehyung was stupid, of course he would know there’s more to Yoongi than he lets off. “I… Like the idea of creating art to draw people in. I want to work in advertising.”

When a silence blankets them, Yoongi asks, “Why did you choose psychology?”

“I like learning about the mind - how it works, how people think, what causes people to make certain choices… I like knowing things about people without them telling me.”

Yoongi shifts. “Like- Like what?”

Taehyung hums, and wiggles to move a little closer to Yoongi. “When I first met you, I could tell you were really closed off, even if you pretended to be open. And as I talked to you more and more, I figure that you’re running from something. There’s something you’re avoiding and you don’t like to think about it.” Taehyung pauses before he says, “I think that this -” he points at Yoongi’s cheek “- is a result of whatever you’re running from.”

Yoongi picks his head up off Taehyung’s hands and looks up at him properly, his lips parted in surprise. The ice pack slips off the back of his head and hits the floor.

“But that’s just a guess,” Taehyung laughs nervously.

“You’re right.”

The smile slips from Taehyung’s face and he looks at Yoongi with big, all-seeing eyes.

“Hoseok is out front,” Namjoon calls over his shoulder.

Yoongi shifts to sit up straight, moving to stand. Taehyung quickly helps him up, pulling his arm over his shoulder and walking with him towards the door. “I’m going to go with him,” Taehyung says, pulling open the door.

“What?” Yoongi and Namjoon say at the same time.

“Wait,” Namjoon says, grabbing Taehyung’s arm to stop him. “You have to finish your shift, don’t you?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I flipped the sign to Closed when I brought Yoongi in and called my boss when I went to get the first aid kit. I’ve been clocked out for a while.”

“You don’t need to come with me,” Yoongi mutters, looking at his shoes.

“I’m coming, so don’t even try to stop me, right now you have the mobility of my grandpa.” Taehyung fixes how Yoongi’s arm is positioned on his shoulders and begins leading him towards the door again.

Taehyung is right, he really can’t argue with him.

Hoseok turns out to be really nice, and somehow extremely energetic at three in the morning. He drives Taehyung and Yoongi back to Yoongi’s apartment, following Yoongi’s directions until they pull up on the curb outside.

Yoongi’s home is nothing extravagant, but he isn’t ashamed as they step through the front door, he’d cleaned up before he left that morning. “Couch is over there,” he instructs, letting Taehyung walk him to the couch.

He flops down on the cushions, relief washing over him as he finally lays down. He immediately shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath.

He almost forgot Taehyung is with him, but then Taehyung is speaking, his voice right next to Yoongi’s face. “What are you running from, Yoongi?”

Yoongi isn’t sure why he decides he’ll be honest with Taehyung. Maybe it’s because he has given up on keeping this secret, or maybe it’s because he’s trying to scare the boy off. “My family.”

“Your family?” Taehyung leans his head on the cushion next to Yoongi and looks up at him imploringly. “Is it a certain member?”

“The only one left,” Yoongi mutters, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. “My dad… He wants me to take over his gang.”

Taehyung stays quiet for a moment and Yoongi grows nervous. He looks over at him, but sees that Taehyung’s face is surprisingly blank. He doesn’t look scared or uncomfortable.

“And you don’t want to take over?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No… I want to get a normal job and live a normal life… I don’t like hurting people for sport.”

“So you have? Hurt people, I mean.”

Yoongi purses his lips and turns his gaze back towards the ceiling so he doesn’t have to look at Taehyung as he says, “Yes. I did tonight.”

“Is that how you got hurt?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No,” he sighs. “My father did this.”

This time, Taehyung doesn’t ask why. Instead, he reaches over and takes Yoongi’s hand. “You don’t deserve this, you know. I can tell that you’re a good person.”

For some reason, Yoongi feels his bottom lip tremble. “Am I though? I’ve been beating people up for years, willingly let people die, and even took money for doing it. I made a profit off this.”

“Your actions contradict what you feel, though.” Taehyung squeezes Yoongi’s hand tightly. “You’re a good person, Yoongi. And if you want out, I could help you.”

Immediately, Yoongi shakes his head. “No, you’re staying far away from all of this.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything. He picks up Yoongi’s hand and surveys the bruises on his knuckles. Dark purples smattered across the juts in his pale skin - Yoongi had always thought they were disgusting, but Taehyung looks at his bruises with sadness, not repulsion. “I’m not going to force my way into this, I promise. I’ll stay as far away as you want me to. But please,” he wraps his other hand around Yoongi’s hand, completely encasing it. “Please let me be here for you.”

Tears escape Yoongi’s eyes finally and he turns to look at Taehyung. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

Yoongi continues to shake his head. “No, no, I wouldn’t. But-”

“ You won’t hurt me Yoongi. If I get caught in the crossfire it’s my own fault, not yours.” Taehyung squeezes Yoongi’s hand even tighter and Yoongi doesn’t want him to let go.

Yoongi presses his lips together and tries to stop crying, he never cries, why is he now? “No, I can’t let you get caught up in this Taehyung, I can’t.”

Taehyung swallows and bites his lip. “I can’t just sit back when I know what you’re going through, let me be here with you, please.”

Slowly, Yoongi pushes himself to sit up, turning to put Taehyung between his knees. They keep looking at each other and Yoongi can’t make that damn knot in his chest unwind. Hoping to alleviate just a little bit of tension, he leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of Taehyung’s head. He keeps his lips just above Taehyung’s head, squeezing his eyes shut as he whispers, “I want you here, Tae. I want to stay with you, but I’m so scared.”

“I’m scared too,” Taehyung murmurs. He presses his lips to Yoongi’s knuckles, kissing him softly. “Let me stay with you.” And when Yoongi doesn’t respond, he looks up at him, eyes wide and imploring.

To answer Taehyung, Yoongi leans down and presses their lips together, kissing Taehyung softly. And when he pulls away, he doesn’t go far.

“Okay,” he whispers, breath ghosting across Taehyung’s cheek. “Stay with me.”