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Yoongi wouldn’t really consider himself too lucky. In every way he really felt like he got the least of the desirable options. At 7 years old, he fell off his bed and ended up with a broken hand. At 11, he stepped on a bee and his entire foot swelled within minutes. When he turned 16, he applied for what seemed like dozens of jobs and didn’t get interviews at any. Shortly before his 18th birthday he finally got hired at a local music store, and thought maybe the universe had given him a break. It’s astonishing how wrong he was, as he found himself staring at the empty shell of the store he had come to love just six months later, following the unexpected death of the owner.
Not only was he physically unlucky, he was mentally unlucky too. That’s how he explained it to his classmates for a while- even though his best friend Namjoon urged him to face the reality he had been given. Depression. In a way, Yoongi knew he was never quite as happy as he should be, but he didn’t bother to tell anyone that he always felt more than a little bit off. It wasn’t until Namjoon tricked him into a therapy visit that Yoongi realized that he wasn’t meant to be lucky about anything. He guessed he was lucky about one thing- and that was the fact that he was smart enough to be admitted to college. He was lucky too, he decided, that Namjoon happened to set his sights on the same college because of their exclusive literature programs.
College was a day to day struggle for Yoongi, trying to scrape by in a tiny apartment he rented along with Namjoon, who still happened to be his only friend. Yoongi felt terrible for dragging Namjoon down, literally feeling like a weight around the other boy’s ankle as he constantly requested his presence for help with school work, chores and just to have someone to talk to. Naturally, Namjoon urged Yoongi to branch out, go to lunch with some of the guys in his art history class, or maybe talk to that cute guy who always sits in the library courtyard with a sketchpad. Yoongi always had an excuse, and Namjoon knew they were all bullshit, but he also knew when not to push Yoongi. So he didn’t. Or at least, he tried not to.
“Yoongi, please just cooperate with me. It’s one night!” Namjoon begged, throwing his head back against the ratty couch he sat upon. Yoongi huffed, playing with a loose thread on his favorite red hoodie. “I promise we’ll leave you alone, and you can have some of the takeout too!” Namjoon knew that Yoongi could never resist the promise of free takeout. Yoongi’s resolve cracked as he sighed, “okay, yes. Yes, you can have your ape friends over! Just order me extra sweet and sour chicken and make sure they keep their grubby hands off of my favorite blanket.” Yoongi was in an uncharacteristically good mood today, which only added to Namjoon’s joy. He launched off the couch, the old thing emitting an audible creak before wrapping the shorter boy in a bone crushing hug of appreciation.
“They’re here!” Yoongi shouted, alerting Namjoon from whatever he was tinkering with in the small kitchen. Namjoon reached the door in a few seconds, and Yoongi was barely aware of anything other than the cool breeze that blew in and the uncomfortableness of the jeans he put on in an effort to look less ‘grubby’. Warm, loud greetings were exchanged, and the happiness of Namjoon’s tone wasn’t missed by Yoongi as he waited for the chaos to ensue.
“Is this your roommate?” an unfamiliar, but pleasant sounding voice asked. Namjoon hummed his confirmation as Yoongi turned around to examine the new people in his home. The one who had spoke was shorter than Namjoon, but still fairly tall, with soft brown hair falling just short of being in his eyes. He was handsome and had a gleam in his eyes that was hard to forget. He extended his hand to Yoongi, “Hi! I’m Seokjin, I’ve heard a lot about you from Joon.” Yoongi raised his eyebrows at the nickname, holding back a laugh as he shook Seokjin’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Seokjin. Come on in.” It felt a bit odd to Yoongi, meeting new people like this, but he didn’t hate it as much as he worried he would. Seokjin moved further into the house, distracting Yoongi’s eyes for half a second before the sight of the new man standing in front of him. If Seokjin was handsome, this guy was ethereal.
“Uh, hi, I’m Yoongi, you are…?” He extended his hand in greeting, stare lingering on the man’s face way too long. Yoongi felt obvious and guilty for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the heart shaped smile, kind brown eyes and elegant tall nose of the man standing in his living room. And then the man smiled. And Yoongi’s heart stuttered in his chest.
“Hey! I’m Hoseok,” he finally took Yoongi’s hand and the feeling was electric. His whole aura was glowing, and there was simply no other way to explain the energy of the man in front of him. He was like sunshine personified. Just when Yoongi thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, Hoseok’s dimples went on full display; two perfect divots in cheeks seeming as smooth as silk bed sheets. He was sure he saw the caramel brown eyes sparkle under the harsh living room lighting. “Nice to meet you,” Hoseok continued, dropping his hand and giggling, and Yoongi swore he heard angels singing.
The night was a over in an instant, and Yoongi’s ideas of hiding away in his room watching his latest kdrama went out the window. It only took seconds for him to hang on every word Hoseok said. Namjoon sent him pointed glances from time to time, furrowing his eyebrows when Yoongi blushed and eventually sending him sly thumbs up when he made Hoseok laugh. Before he knew it, the roommates were wishing Hoseok and Seokjin a safe walk home, and Yoongi’s cheeks were aching from smiling so much.
“Tell me about him,” Yoongi demanded.
“He’s a breath of fresh air, isn’t he?” Namjoon chuckled at the way his friend nodded so feverently. The rest was history.
You could call it a whirlwind romance, Yoongi decided. Their first date took place at a secluded park where Hoseok begged Yoongi to help him take photos of him in his new padded coat. It had been a long time since Yoongi went outside just because, and the he felt refreshed. Whether the feeling came from the crisp air or Hoseok himself, Yoongi didn’t care. He was craving whatever you called the feeling Hoseok gave him.
His nightmares lessened, his grades increased, and so did his entire mood. Namjoon and Seokjin finally started dating shortly after Yoongi and Hoseok’s third casual date. It was this casual date where Hoseok admitted he really really liked Yoongi, and reached across the coffee shop table to kiss Yoongi’s hand. That was the moment Yoongi fell in love. Little did he know, Hoseok was right behind him.
Six months out, the pair were sickeningly in love. Namjoon had gotten a better paying job and moved in with Seokjin, and while that goodbye was bittersweet, Yoongi was ecstatic to live with Hoseok. The night Hoseok moved in, Yoongi cooked a romantic dinner and carefully placed the shining new house key adorned with a pink heart next to Hoseok’s glass. The look on Hoseok’s face is something Yoongi will take to his deathbed; the look of pure love in his sparkling eyes and the part of his full lips as he struggled to come up with the proper word of thanks. His hand hovered over the key, lighting brushing it with his fingers as if he was worried it would disintegrate.
Hoseok tried again to thank his boyfriend, his perfectly pink lips twisting around any semblance of what should have been a simple “thank you, my love”. But Yoongi didn’t let him, swooping in for a kiss that smelled of vanilla and cedarwood and the slight twinge of sweat that was so inherently Hoseok. Hoseok pulled Yoongi by the hem of his sweater, taking a moment to breathe in shakily as his eyes shined with tears. “I love you so much, Yoongi”. They had said it hundreds of times, but here, on the first night they shared a home, it made Yoongi’s heart jump in a different way.
Grabbing Hoseok’s hand and placing it over his heart, Yoongi tearfully declared, “this is all yours. All my love, just for you, Hobi.”
Dinner was quickly forgotten that night, sitting cold on the kitchen counter as the happy couple occupied themselves with much more pressing matters than eating. Hoseok settled in his favorite spot, lips pressed against Yoongi’s bared neck as he traced lightly over the bruises littering his collarbones.
“I’m so happy we met, Yoons.” the words tickled Yoongi’s skin but he didn’t move an inch, leaning into the feeling as he fluttered his eyes shut.
“Me too, Hobi. I never want this to end, you’re easily the best thing that ever happened to me.” Yoongi sighed, brushing a hand over Hoseok’s already tangled hair while he feels the man on top of him shake with laughter. “What? What’s so funny?” Yoongi questioned, already laughing himself.
“Is meeting me better than that time the ice cream guy definitely had a crush on you and gave you an extra scoop?’ Hoseok’s laughter became full and loud, booming through the apartment as he recalled the hilarious look on Yoongi’s face that day.
“He did NOT have a crush on me! I swear he just counted wrong or something! I don’t even remember his name!” Yoongi protested, covering his blushing face in hopes that Hoseok would miss his reddening ears. Yoongi, once again, was proven to be unlucky, as Hoseok sat upright to point at his boyfriend’s obvious sign of embarrassment.
“You’re fucking red! You know he liked you! That dude wanted you sooo bad, but I got you instead! His name was Jimin, by the way. In case you ever have to look for a replacement for me or something.” Hoseok cackled, bouncing in his spot on the bed, moonlight bouncing off the planes of his chest.
“You are ridiculous, Hobi. You’re lucky I love you.” Yoongi grumbled, yanking Hoseok back down to his body in hopes of calming him down enough to go to bed. “Can you calm down? You wore me out, you know,” Yoongi flopped around until he was comfortably in the pillows and entwined his fingers with Hoseok’s. Hoseok huffed out his last bit of laughter before dragging a finger down the bridge of Yoongi’s nose, down his lips and dropping off at the point of his chin. The gentle gesture was never lost on Yoongi, and a small smile graced his lips before he slipped off to sleep with Hoseok’s comforting warmth just to his left.
With the hints of summer finally waving hello, Yoongi and Hoseok took delight in opening the windows in the apartment and enjoying a nice breeze. Yoongi stood over sizzling bacon for the BLT’s Hoseok practically begged him to make. Hoseok was busy at the table, grumbling over the computer when the sandwiches were finally put together.
“What’s the face for, baby?” Yoongi questioned, bringing Hoseok’s sandwich over as he pressed a kiss to his exposed forehead. He glanced down at the screen, instantly recognizing what Hoseok was doing. “House listings?”
Hoseok flushed a little bit, scratching the back of his head. “It’s nothing really, I just like to think-” his voice stops in his throat, so Yoongi gently scratched his back in encouragement. “Sometimes I like to look at houses and think about us buying them. It’s kind of stupid.”
Yoongi practically choked around his bite at hearing that. “It’s not stupid, Hobi! I think it’s cute. I like that one,” Yoongi pointed at a charming townhouse with a stereotypical white picket fence. The idea caused Hoseok to chuckle.
“I really don’t see you as a white picket fence guy?’” Hoseok questioned, finally picking up the sandwich he had begged for since he rolled out of bed that morning.
“I think it’d be nice, ya know? Room to let dogs outside, have a cute little picnic, a swingset for the kids?” Yoongi could feel his eyes crinkling at the thought of dogs lazing around a green yard, the smell of burgers on the grill and Hoseok helping a chubby toddler down a slide as another waddles around by his feet. The idea was enough to make Yoongi’s heart skip a beat as he imaged the ideal life he never thought he would have. But with Hoseok right in front of him, and the unconditional love he was feeling in his chest, Yoongi couldn’t see his life going any other way.
“Look at you, all lost in your little daydream,” Hoseok pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek and sighed. “I agree though, it’d be nice to have a little family one day, you can teach them how to cook, I’ll show them fun little dances…” Hoseok sighed, dramatically pouting his lips and Yoongi giggled at his undeniable cuteness.
“Look who’s daydreaming now! One day we’ll do it, I promise. There’s nothing I would ever want more. You’re absolutely perfect, Hobi.” Yoongi declares, triumphantly biting into his sandwich.
Later that night, after Hoseok had curled up in their creaky bed, eyelids fluttering as he drempt, Yoongi snuck into the kitchen for a cold bottle of water. As a cool breeze glided by his face, he shut his eyes and said a silent prayer. He wouldn’t consider himself a religious man, but someone had to be watching out for him. The universe had gifted him a man as perfect, loving, and understanding as Hoseok, and he could never fully wrap his mind around why. His eyes began to droop, but before he let himself succumb to the peaceful pull of sleep, he dug out an old mason jar and a sharpie from the junk drawer. In big, sprawling letters he wrote ‘HOUSE FUNDS’ on the dusty jar, dropping a few loose coins in before padding back to the sanctuary of his bedroom.
The same jar now sits in the exact spot Yoongi left it on that night that seems so distant to him now. It accumulated a bit more money, but even more dust. Everything feels cold now. An unsure emptiness has overtaken Yoongi’s heart and mind and he isn’t quite sure when it happened but that nagging feeling of self doubt that he thought he extinguished came back. It curled around him, swirling his stomach into painful cramps every time Hoseok brushed his hair out of eyes in the morning and pressed a feather light kiss to the tip of his nose. No matter how hard he pushed it down, the feeling kept raising and building until it invaded his throat when Hoseok held him close and begged him to say what was on his mind, tell him what was troubling his love so much, tell him what he can do to help the one man he wants to be with forever.
Yoongi could never bring himself to tell him. How could he? How could he stand in front of the single most delicate, caring and radiant person he had ever known and tell him he didn’t think he was doing enough? Life became a revolving door of dodging questions, stifling sobs and wondering why he couldn’t just fucking be normal. Hoseok knew, of course, that Yoongi had depression. He was warned by Namjoon, and Yoongi had opened up to him eventually, sobbing into the taller man’s chest as his tongue unraveled all the thoughts bound up in his head. And even then, Hoseok had held him close, cradling his frigidly cold hands and holding back his own tears at the heart wrenching sight.
But this was something Hoseok had never seen out of Yoongi. It was terrifying to him, to watch the man he loved come undone right in front of his eyes with absolutely no semblance of what to do to help. Yoongi could feel it, the desperation in Hoseok’s kisses, the way he clutched onto him harder while he slept, the careful tone of his voice whenever he asked a question. The nightmares returned in full force, waking Yoongi up as well as Hoseok in the dead of the night. Hoseok would latch himself on Yoongi’s shaking body, hugging him until the desperately short and panicked breaths mellowed into longer, shaky heaves punctuated with hurried apologies that got lost in the still air of the dark bedroom. Yoongi’s bed became his best friend, and he constantly felt under the weather no matter how much tea and medicine Hoseok offered to him. The constant caretaking was surely stripping away Hoseok’s resolve, and Yoongi knew it.
One day he spotted the boy sitting on their bed with his hair full of matts, the areas under his eyes discolored to a light purple that looked painful. His shoulders shook with silent tears and he appeared so small surrounded by all the piled up blankets that once meant home. The sight made Yoongi want to turn away, seeing the way his usually perky and hopeful boyfriend sagged like he was holding 100 pound weights on his shoulders. As if Hoseok’s physical state wasn’t enough to crush Yoongi, upon further inspection he noticed what Hoseok was clutching in his hands and his heart grew and grew until it shattered into a million glass shards. The familiar photo of them which was taken on their 6 month anniversary date was held in one clenched fist, the other fiddling with a glinting silver ring that Yoongi had never seen before, which he assumed could only be one thing. Any breath in his throat was gone, and before he knew it he was gasping for air as he stumbled to the bathroom and clutched the counter as his head spun. His eyes wandered down to his left hand, imagining the cool press of the ring on his fourth finger, and he knew he couldn’t let this go on any longer.
He loved Hoseok. He knew that he always would. The idea of letting him go was crushing, but it felt so necessary. Quite simply, Yoongi would never be enough for someone as perfect as Hoseok.
That night, Yoongi suffered from one of the worst nightmares he had had in awhile. He found himself walking along a wide, dark road with nothing around as far as he could see. The air was still and heavy, making breathing a chore as he struggled to process his surroundings. Hopelessly, he drug his feet along in a vain attempt to find anything, until eventually he could hear a faint voice in the distance. It was Hoseok, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t locate him anywhere. The longer he searched, the more desperate he became to see the face of the man who was calling out to him so softly in the distance. No matter how hard he tried, Yoongi could not understand what Hoseok was saying. He could only make out the faint whisper of the dulcet tones of his boyfriend’s voice that he usually relished in. Frustration ripped through his veins, and his knees collided harshly with the ground as a shriek escaped his lungs. “Hoseok, where are you? Hobi? Hobi please, I don’t know where you are, and I can’t hear what you’re saying!” The number of times he called out was uncountable. Eventually his throat was rubbed raw and his eyes were so blurred with hot tears that even if Hoseok was standing right in front of him, he wouldn’t have known it.
The silence was deafening. All he could hear was his own ragged breaths and his heartbeat pounding rapidly and resonating through his entire body. The transition between his dream and real life was almost seamless, as he slowly woke to an eerie silence and air that felt too heavy for comfort. His hand reflexively wiped over his face only to feel the wetness of the tears that had escaped from the corners of his eyes. As slowly as he could, Yoongi glanced over at Hoseok’s figure curled into itself and facing outward in a way Yoongi hadn’t seen in months. One breath in, one breath out. A rhythm that should be natural and unobstructed took physical effort and made his heart ache shallowly. He placed a hand over his chest in a futile attempt to calm his rapidly thumping heart. Yoongi would consider himself an observant man, so that’s exactly what he did. He observed the slow breaths that Hoseok took, the small snore that punctuated his sighs every few seconds. He observed the plane of his back, and the spot where his shoulder blades rose under the thin white sleep shirt he always wore. Although he was facing away, Yoongi could clearly imagine the slope of Hoseok’s nose that would so gracefully drop off to blend into the dip of his Cupid’s bow just above his wonderful full lips.
It was heartbreaking, really. Yoongi was sure he looked pathetic, clutching his chest as he imagined the face of the man laying just inches from him. Everything he wanted was within an arm's length but for some reason he couldn’t find the strength to just fucking reach out and grab it.
“Hoseok doesn’t deserve this.” The sentence had been following his every move, popping up in Yoongi’s head whenever he had a second alone. The invading thought even began to rear its ugly head while he was with Hoseok, and the more Yoongi believed it the more he pulled away.
In a way, Yoongi felt as if the universe had finally caught back up with what it was doing and remembered that he was always supposed to be horribly unlucky. He had almost forgotten of his common misfortune himself, so he couldn’t blame the universe for forgetting too. It was probably distracted by Hoseok’s radiant smile and deep dimples that often rendered Yoongi speechless. From where Yoongi sat now at the cold dining table, he could see those same dimples popping into their rightful spot and shining by the light of the TV screen playing one of Hoseok’s favorite movies in bright colors.
“Hey, Hobi?” His voice was much more stable than he felt, but the degree of coldness matched perfectly. Despite this, Hoseok looked around to make eye contact, smiling at his boyfriend from the far distance and tipping his head to the side in place of a question.
“I love you, you know? So much, sunshine.” The words hung in the air between the couple for what felt like minutes as Yoongi felt his entire body heat up and his eyes prick with the threat of tears. His hands shook on his lap, worried that Hoseok had decided he no longer knew, and had no idea how to respond to the declaration.
“I know. I love you too, Yoons.” Hoseok turned away much too quickly, running a hand through his freshly washed hair and turning all his attention back to the television. His behavior was of no concern to Yoongi, however. The real issue laid within the way the words were so natural, unforced and full of love. It was the exact thing that would have sparked warmth in his cheeks and butterflies in the pit of his stomach mere months before. But that day, as the clock harshly announced that it was 11 pm, all Yoongi felt was a sinking pit of dread that made his head spin and his fingers numb.
Suddenly, the room felt too small, the noise of the tap dripping was too loud and the sentence Hoseok had just spoke became the new constant soundtrack for Yoongi’s life for one reason.
Hoseok shouldn’t love him anymore.
Two weeks later, Yoongi woke up earlier than Hoseok and rubbed at his burning eyes for a brief moment before glancing over at the love of his life. His dark hair was sticking out all over the place due to his constant tossing and turning, prompting Yoongi’s hand to shoot out in an attempt to run his fingers through his hair just to hear that contented sigh fall from his lips one more time. He stopped himself short though, because he knew if he gave in to his desires he would never get to the issue at hand. So he settled for observing again, and thanking whatever god was listening that the sun had risen in a beautiful pink hue that morning. It filtered through their threadbare curtains with no trouble, just soft enough to light up the room without waking Hoseok with harsh light. He had slept shirtless, and with the blankets bunched around his waist Yoongi thought back to the last time he saw angry purple bruises on the tanned skin and realized it must have been months. His eyes began to burn again, and hot tears escaped before being shooed away by the back of his hand.
No tears, Yoongi resolved. The last moments of being in love with Hoseok would be soft, gentle and beautiful because after he was gone, nothing would ever feel that way again.
He stared for as long as he could, desperate to burn every feature of the man who had stolen his heart into his mind forever. Photos and videos could never do him justice. No matter how many Yoongi had saved of him laughing, sleeping, eating, dancing, cooking, cleaning, watching television, playing games and any other activity the two embarked on during their time together; they could never amount to the real thing. So he just stared. He noticed the pimple on his forehead he had heard Hoseok grumbling over the night before, the mole just above his lip and the slight downturn of his eyes. Long eyelashes rested on full, slightly flushed cheeks that were currently the center of attention thanks to the shifting focus of the sunlight. Yoongi held back a bitter laugh. It was just like Hoseok to be so devastatingly beautiful in the sunlight he was so often compared to. He truly was out of this world.
Eventually, Hoseok stirred awake. Yoongi barely moved a muscle toward him and swallowed hard. He made a mental note of the date; May 14th. His last morning with Hoseok. The last day he could say he called Hoseok his. The worst day of his life.
He felt shameful as he rocketed out of bed before Hoseok could even reach out for him. He hit the carpet rather harshly, beelining for the shower in an attempt to gain clarity and the pure resolve he needed to look Hoseok in the eyes and lie to him.
“Can we talk?’ Yoongi approached the subject messily, but in the only way he could think of. He wasn’t a man of too many words those days.
“Yeah, what about?’ It broke Yoongi’s heart to hear Hoseok sound so lighthearted, carefree and genuinely curious at the premise of talking.
“We need to break up. I don’t think I feel the way I used to.” The words were out, almost on their own accord, and even though he knew it was the right thing to do Yoongi so desperately wished he could scoop them back up and shove them back, down down down so far that they would never come up together again. But unfortunately he was just a man, standing ten feet away from the man he still loved but never deserved to have.
“Y-you what?” Hoseok’s voice was already shaking, and Yoongi couldn’t gauge his emotions. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, and his eyebrows furrowed while his brain had processed the information. Yoongi could then see it all, Hoseok’s eyes shifting from confusion to anger and finally arriving at the most devastating conclusion- self doubt. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?’ The words came out choked, as if Hoseok hadn’t taken a drink of water in days. Yoongi’s heart lurched in his chest. He wanted to scream. Of course it isn’t your fault, Hoseok. It was never your fault! It’s me, it was always me, you don’t need me! But he just stood still, staring at the floor in front of Hoseok’s feet.
“I knew it, Yoongi I- I’m so sorry I didn’t know. I had no idea, please you have to believe me, I love you so much, Yoons, pleas-” Yoongi raised a hand in front of his face, finally gaining the courage to look at Hoseok’s face and instantly regretting it. His smooth cheeks were wet with tears, his eyes ringed red as his chapped lips hung open in the middle of his pleading.
“Hoseok, stop. I meant what I said, and I think it’s best for both of us. Please, just don’t make this too hard on me. When can you leave?” On the outside, the words were calm, collected and well thought out. The mess inside Yoongi’s mind was increasing every second as he watched the love of his life absolutely crumble in front of him. Hoseok’s knees literally gave out, and he landed on the worn out, ugly brown couch the two had gotten from a dude named Taehyung on Craigslist. An eerie silence fell over the room as Hoseok took heaving breaths that Yoongi was too fearful to help combat.
“You really want me to go?” Hoseok asked finally, a hand outstretched to Yoongi in a half baked attempt to connect with his now former lover. Yoongi’s heart ached as he nodded his silent confirmation. He wished then more than ever that he could see into the future, so he could have plugged his ears before Hoseok opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.” That was the goodbye, the last words his wonderful ray of sunshine uttered to him before making a tearful phone call to one of his co workers before rushing through the apartment like a ghostly breeze to collect his belongings into an old duffel bag. With his hand on the doorknob, Hoseok looked back with fat tears actively streaming down his reddened face. There was so much Yoongi wanted to say, but he picked the worst of the bunch,
“I’ll let someone know if I find anything else you left behind.” A sniffle. The door opened, feet shuffled, and the door snapped shut. That was the end of the best time of Yoongi’s life.
He had found things Hoseok left behind, but they were small things, like the bag of flossers he insisted on using because normal floss was terrible, his favorite dish soap, and the stupid cleaning schedule list that he made once at 2 am after organizing their closet. As much as Yoongi wanted to throw all the things away and work on forgetting the single most wonderful and worst thing to ever happen to him, he couldn’t let go.
Right after the breakup, he had about 15 minutes of normalcy until he realized what the fuck he had actually done. His apartment was half empty, way too quiet and didn’t make him feel at home anymore. He opened the kitchen blinds to see that the sun had been blanketed by thick black clouds. Fitting, he thought. He found himself sat under that window two hours later, absolutely spent from the wailing and begging and resistance to do something even dumber to deal with the pain he had given himself.
Namjoon eventually called, but Yoongi skillfully ignored him. Seokjin called too. Yoongi wasn’t stupid. He knew they knew, since Hoseok most likely called Jinyoung, whom had worked with Seokjin for years. They surely connected the dots. He felt a little bad for ignoring his two friends, making them worry about his well being, but he wanted to be alone. He wanted to feel the pain of his actions to their fullest degree. So he laid in bed. He closed his eyes and imagined that Hoseok was still there with him, giggling at something on his phone or walking out of the shower with nothing on but a sly grin.
Of course, his peace was disrupted by Namjoon’s bellowing voice calling his name and pounding on the front door.
“I swear to FUCK, Yoongi if you don’t open this door I will kick it down!” Several hard knocks and what sounded like a kick followed, so Yoongi drug himself to open the door, flinching as soon as he saw Namjoon’s towering frame.
“Oh thank God,” Namjoon sighed, stepping into the room and stopping short. Yoongi knew he saw it too, the emptiness, the lack of color, the lack of Hoseok.
“Oh Yoongi,” Jin sighed, placing a hand on top of his dark hair. “What happened?”
Yoongi offered the abridged version, feeding the couple the same garbage he told Hoseok. He wasn’t feeling it anymore, something had changed, it was better for them both. Yoongi knew Namjoon was suspicious, but Jin scolded him for being so analytical of the situation and asked what they could do to help. Yoongi thought for a while, biting his lip and wringing his hands. Finally, one thing came to mind.
“Make sure he’s okay.”
Before the two had left, Seokjin insisted that he and Namjoon do a sweep of the apartment for ‘damage control’. As they worked to erase every element of Hoseok from the apartment, Yoongi laid lifeless on the couch. Within a few minutes, Seokjin was opening the door of the hallway closet rather loudly. “‘M putting this in here, like way back,” his voice sounded far away as he shoved his way through the hung up coats to set whatever he had found into the dark recesses of the closet. Yoongi said nothing.
That had happened about four months ago although the events felt as fresh as if they had just happened. Yoongi was still living in the old apartment, now with a small dog that he had adopted in the hope of creating some noise and happiness in the cold living spaces. He never felt the same amount of happiness he did in those first months with Hoseok, but he was feeling good on his normal routine of medications and therapy. His doctor had suggested taking walks around town, and to even his own surprise, Yoongi took the advice.
He didn’t tell anyone that he took this advice in the vain hope that he would catch a glimpse of Hoseok and know that he was doing okay. Jin and Namjoon had done their best to update Yoongi, but Hoseok wasn’t too interested in keeping in touch with his ex-boyfriends’ friends. So Yoongi resorted to more drastic measures, including frequenting the areas he used to go to with Hoseok. He had no plan for what to say if he ran into the man he still loved so much; but he figured if it happened he would just have to improvise on the spot.
As a result of his frequenting, he had gained a few pounds and some roundness in his cheeks-which Namjoon said was wonderful to see- due to the stupid ice cream clerk.
“Hey! How are you?” Jimin chirped, already reaching down to scoop Moose Tracks into a waffle cone for Yoongi before the money was dug out of his wallet.
“The normal,” Yoongi quipped, trying not to get distracted in case he happened to see or hear Hoseok coming.
“Still looking for your ex?” Jimin asked warily. He was a nice guy who had really wormed his way into Yoongi’s heart by giving him sneaky extra scoops on some days or giving him a friends and family discount on others.
“Like I said before, I’m just making sure he’s okay,” Yoongi asserted, frowning as he licked at the already melting dairy treat. Jimin wiped at his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand before giving Yoongi a sympathetic smile.
“I might have some information on that, actually,” Jimin began to dig around in his pocket before producing his phone, which he scrolled through before triumphantly presenting Yoongi with an Instagram post. There was Hoseok, wearing his favorite jean shorts and a simple white tank top that showed off his sculpted shoulders, sitting side by side with a younger looking, but very attractive guy.
“Who is that?” Yoongi practically choked on a peanut butter cup as he stared at the screen, totally taken aback by his first sight of Hoseok in months.
“That’s Jungkook, I go to school with him,” Jimin carefully explained, trying to gauge if he was pressing the wrong buttons by showing Yoongi or not.
“Oh, really? Are they-“ a harsh swallow “are they, uh, dating?” Yoongi passed the phone back over the glass case carefully.
Jimin nodded innocently, his eyes darting back and forth as he waiting for a possible meltdown from the customer he had come to care for since the first day he saw him show up alone and make the order that was normally requested by the taller boy he came with. Jimin had nodded and smiled, scooping immediately before asking “is your boyfriend sick? Ask for some ice cream?” The room shifted, and Yoongi cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“No, we actually uh, we broke up. I was just-“ Jimin waved him off, not forcing him to share anymore before silently piling on an extra scoop.
“Don’t tell my boss, he’ll kill me,”
But that had been months before, and now the two had fallen into a familiar rhythms that Jimin feared he had broken with just one photo.
“Well I shouldn’t be too surprised, Hobi deserves it.” Jimin smirked slightly at the nickname, causing Yoongi’s eyebrow to raise at the unusual reaction.
“He won’t let Jungkook call him that. He said it’s a name held by a special person. He doesn’t talk about you directly too much, but I know he still thinks of you,” Jimin offered his small piece of information and waited with baited breath before he saw Yoongi’s tearful smile.
“Is he a good guy?” Yoongi asked, his ice cream all but abandoned in his hand as the chocolate chunks melt into the cone.
“Kook? Yeah, he’s one of the best guys I’ve ever met. Total sweetheart, charming, talented, thoughtful.” Jimin took a careful pause. “Real good to Hobi.”
Although Yoongi’s head was swimming, he managed to eat some more of the ice cream and recall all the times he had tasted the same muted flavors on Hoseok’s lips.
“Well, thank you, Jimin. For everything. See you later,” Yoongi said cooly, leaving a more than generous tip out of pure appreciation for the younger man.
“Wait! Before you go, do you want his Instagram?”
Yoongi felt creepy, so creepy, scrolling through the instagram page of a guy he barely knew. The account was public, and Jungkook had an impressive 12.6 thousand followers, so would he bat an eye if Yoongi pressed the taunting follow button? His thumb hovered over it but never touched down as he ultimately decided that checking back frequently would be enough to satisfy his curiosity.
He didn’t know how long he was staring at the page, scrolling up and down, clicking through Jungkook’s page and analyzing his every post. He could see why Hoseok liked him. He was extremely handsome, with sparkly doe eyes featuring kind crinkles that popped out everytime he smiled in a post. Some of his stuff seemed goofy, like one video of him dancing exaggeratedly to a pop song, causing his hair to flop around in all directions as he filmed himself. Often he posted videos of him lazing around the house in just a pair of grey sweats and a ratty tshirt and Yoongi had to admit- he was devastatingly handsome.
In some twisted way, he became obsessed with Jungkook. Not out of jealousy or malice, but just genuine curiosity for the way he lived his life, what he did for fun, and most importantly- how he met Hoseok. It’s not like that’s all he wanted to think about, but now that he knew about it he just couldn’t stop the curiosity. He couldn’t stop the longing, either.
It was surprising that it took this long for the longing to kick in. Yoongi had been sad, of course, he was absolutely devastated for weeks after letting Hoseok walk out of their apartment. He had cried until he was practically dehydrated, avoiding all responsibilities and taking all the sick time his job would allow him to have. Even before the breakup he was close to dropping out of college, but he sent the official paperwork in just 4 days after, despite Namjoon’s avid protests. He thought he had traveled through every stage of grieving, and settled on his own type of acceptance by strolling around and hoping to see Hoseok somewhere. It was like the wound had begun to scab over, the acceptance that he really had given up the best person in his life started to form in his mind.
Seeing that one simple photo- just some god damn pixels on a screen- which had crossed his path by pure coincidence and mutual friendships, changed his entire outlook. That night, Yoongi took a steaming hot shower that burned his sensitive skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck. He knew sleeping on the injured skin would be hell tonight, but he was happy that he could feel something, anything, other than utter heartbreak and regret. He stepped out of the suffocating steam, watching it billow like smoke into the adjoining bedroom and thought of the way Hoseok would scold him for running the water so hot. It was just a fever dream, but Yoongi could hear Hoseok cooing at the reddened skin, insisting that Yoongi put ice on it and pretending to be angry at him for half an hour. And god, did he miss that.
He missed everything.
Jimin had gotten worried about not seeing Yoongi’s familiar face around the ice cream shop after the one faithful day. He had had the best intentions, hoping that seeing the photo would help the forlorn boy move on the way he needed to. Jimin had fretted for days, debating if it was too awkward to text Yoongi even though he never had before. The phone number had been given in reluctance in the first place, when Jimin insisted it would just be used to track purchases on their loyalty system. Yoongi knew that was bullshit, but had offered a minimal huff and the utterance of 10 numbers. On the 6th day without seeing hide nor hair of Yoongi, Jimin decided that he couldn’t care less about it being awkward. He was worried.
Yoongi was surprised to hear the unusual sounding ding from his phone. No one texted him much anymore, and he had memorized the sounds he set for everyone he cared about. His phone displayed an unknown number and a message that simply read, “Hey, it’s Jimin! You okay?” The amount of times Yoongi had heard that question was unbelievable. He used to always tell people ‘yep, just tired. Long day.’ but he had long since grown out of that. He texted back bluntly.
“No, I’m not”
“I’m sorry about the photo, Yoongi. I thought it would help”
“Not your fault. I’m sure I would feel like this regardless”
A series of sad emojis popped up and Yoongi almost laughed out loud at how misplaced they felt. He hadn’t seen anyone use emojis so freely since Hoseok.
“Would anything make you feel better?”
“I guess it would be nice to talk to him one more time”
“Hoseok?”
“Yeah”
“I can get you in touch with him”
The offer hung in the air, and Yoongi’s stomach cramped at the thought. With sweaty hands he began to type a reply, ignoring the buzzing sensation in the back of his head.
“What do you mean? He’d never agree to see me face to face or anything”
“Well...he is staying at Jungkook’s this weekend. Maybe I could deliver him a letter from you? That would be pretty...low impact?”
Yoongi began typing immediately, writing out “that’s fucking crazy” before another message came in.
“Maybe you could right some wrongs”
That idea was enough for Yoongi, and he instantly deleted his previous text to write out, “okay, good idea”. Jimin’s text bubble popped up again, but Yoongi was already in the process of shutting his phone down totally, the blackened glass revealing just how fucking empty he looked, eyes unfocused and blinking steadily. He needed to focus. It was tuesday, and the letter had a deadline.
Yoongi had every intention of sitting down, pouring out his heart, signing the inevitably tear stained paper and delivering it to Jimin the next day. But he couldn’t do it. Nothing was sounding right, all the things he came up with didn’t come close to what he actually wanted to say. In a moment of complete weakness, Yoongi knew what he needed to do.
He swung open the door, hearing it creak on its unused hinges. He shoved coats and hoodies out of the way, searching blinding for something he never actually saw. His failing hands suddenly hit what felt like the top of a box, and he pulled it out carefully, the fabric of coats sliding over the object and revealing the sleek white Adidas shoebox. One deep breath, one light switch, one shut door and a brisk walk to the dining table later, Yoongi was going to face what he had left of Hoseok.
He didn’t know exactly what to expect, and he was honestly surprised when the first object he saw was a bundled pair of socks. Yoongi almost laughed at the idea of Seokjin scooping these up however many months ago and storing them away. Nevertheless, Yoongi displayed them on the dining table in front of his open notebook. They were soon joined by Hoseok’s favorite deodorant, a Queen CD he ordered after he went through a phase, and an obnoxiously bright yellow and green tie Yoongi had bought him as a gag gift once.
It was almost comical, how these things were oddly comforting to him in a time where they should be heartbreaking. But nothing could prepare him for what he pulled out next. The metal was cool under his fingertips, and he knew instantly that he was holding onto the key. The silver metal was scratched on the jagged end, seeming to mock Yoongi as he recalled all the times he heard it slide into the lock and reveal the love of his life breezing inside. With his hands shaking, the key almost slipped from his grasp as he turned it around. The pink heart which Yoongi had taken the extra care to paint on so many months ago had a chunk missing, creating an almost perfectly halved heart on the metal. Yoongi’s own heart jumped to his throat and his pulse raced. How could he ignore the irony? How could he unsee the image of their love literally split in half? Hot tears gathered in Yoongi’s tear ducts and he wondered why the fuck he ever thought this would be a good idea.
Despite every nerve in his body telling him to fucking stop what he was doing, Yoongi pressed on and fished out the framed photo that used to reside on Hoseok’s bedside table. Part of Yoongi was expecting to see it in the box of left behind items, but a smaller, more foolish part of his heart was hoping that Hoseok would take it along to have something physical left of the man he still loved. But here it was, the image of the Yoongi on Hoseok’s back, both of them mid laugh in the small courtyard of their apartments. He could still remember the smell of rain in the air as Namjoon snapped the photo for them. Hoseok had insisted to get it printed just seconds after, cooing over the image as soon as he laid eyes on it.
Now it felt cold and harsh in his hand, the simple dark wooden frame Hoseok had chosen felt bulky and out of place. Yoongi rushed to put it down, as if it were burning his skin. The shoebox was light in Yoongi’s lap now, and when he glanced down he saw why. All that was left among the dust was the small, telltale velvet box. Silent tears slipped down his rounded cheeks as he ran his sensitive fingertips along the material, imagining how much Hoseok must have done the same thing. It was flooring to think that if Yoongi wasn’t such a fool, he might have been planning a wedding. He had imagined many scenarios that included Hoseok nervously carrying the box in his pocket, in his bag, hiding it in his bedside drawer until he found the right moment. A moment that never came. And of course Yoongi remembered the night he accidentally saw Hoseok clutching it in his hand as if the silver band were his absolute last life line.
That night, Yoongi had wondered how the cool metal would feel on his finger. Now, he heard the satisfying snap of the box opening, and the image of the delicate ring cushioned by cream fabric only increased the flow of tears. It was a wholly selfish act, but Yoongi slipped the ring onto his finger and it was a perfect fit. Hoseok really did know him well. Way too well, he was about to discover.
He closed the box, staring down at his hands in disbelief and still struggling to collect his thoughts. The tears blurred everything, and with his cheek squished to the table he couldn’t be sure he was seeing anything correctly, but he swore that there was something in the picture frame, peeking out from under the photo. Just to satiate his curiosity, he carefully took the back off of the frame and was met with a piece of yellowing notebook paper. His heart rate kicked up, wondering just what Hoseok had been hiding behind the photo all those months. With shaking hands the paper was unfolded, and across the top a simple title was scribbled in all too familiar handwriting. It read ‘Yoongi- what to do’ and his heart instantly stopped.
Breathing was a chore once again as his eyes naturally caught on the first subtitle, ‘when he’s sad:’ a bulleted list was underneath, clearly printed in smooth black ink.
Give him some space
Make sure he smiles
Dance with him
Order his favorite takeout
Try to make him laugh
Offer to rub his back
Tell him you love him
Kiss his forehead and hold his hands- he loves it even if he says he doesn’t
Yoongi couldn’t take any more, so he moved on to the next title, reading ‘when he’s sick:’, which displayed the same bulleted format.
Soup! Always soup
Hot showers for stuffy noses
Always buy him extra tissues
Make sure he stays warm
Keep him hydrated
Offer to cook
Tell him you love him
Category after category followed, written in small, tight letters to fit it all on one page. His mind could barely process all the titles; ‘when he’s mad’, ‘when he’s stressed’, ‘when he feels guilty’, ‘when he’s tired, ‘when he’s happy’. Every list was made up of several points like small reminders, and each included the phrase ‘tell him you love him’.
It was shocking to see on paper just how much Hoseok had cared. He cared enough to write it down, as if just incase he ever forgot what to do, he would always be the best possible boyfriend. It was even more shocking that Yoongi could think of Hoseok doing each of the things on his list at various points of their relationship and realizing it must have been added onto the whole time they were together. His heart was so contristed, it felt as if someone had reached in and squeezed it until the blood wouldn’t pump anymore.
After he finally processed what he had just seen, Yoongi began scratching his own pen against paper.
Hobi,
I’m sorry it ended the way it did. You should know what I said at the end was a lie. I never changed my mind about loving you. I loved you, I still love you, I will always fucking love you. I had just reached a point where I had no idea what to do. You wanted a bigger life; the kids, the house, the cozy living room. And I couldn’t give that to you. I’m an unlucky man, Jung Hoseok, and that’s something that never goes away. I miss you every goddamn day, and I will always regret that I simply was not good enough. It was never you.
You were always perfect, sunshine.
I’m just so sorry. Baby, I love you and I wish you would come home but you don’t deserve to have to deal with me.
Yoongi sniffled, running the back of his hand under his nose in a futile attempt to wipe away his disgusting snot before continuing.
You always had everything figured out, and I never did. If you were here now you’d know what to do, but I’m on my own now.
He choked back sobs at the last sentence, his handwriting almost unreadable as anger built up inside. He had no fucking idea what to do, he had no idea how to go on without Hoseok. He had no cheat sheet for fixing himself, and the only one who could fix him was Hoseok. But he refused to beg. He refused to ask Hoseok to come back and fix him when he had obviously found a better path.
With a sudden wash of calm, Yoongi stood from his chair, pulling the page out of the notebook and staring down at it before shredding it into hundreds of pieces. It was harsh and excessive, the way he ripped through the paper and threw it into the trash, but the words weren’t right. Yoongi never had the right words for Hoseok. As he returned to the table, his eyes slid back to the key. That goddamn key that stared back at him and brought nothing but unjust hope that Hoseok would come back and repair the chipped off heart.
He snatched the key off of the cold table, hearing it clink against the metal still resting around his hand and tossed it into the trash right behind the stupid fucking letter. It landed at the bottom with a heavy thud, and Yoongi started a new letter with a steely resolve he hoped to keep a grip on.
Jungkook,
You don’t know me, and that’s okay. You don’t need to. But I know you, and more importantly, I know what you’re feeling right now. You have Hoseok. That wonderful man that seems like he walks in another dimension and time. He used to be mine. He used to be mine, and I let him go because I was a fucking fool. I was so stupid, Jungkook. Don’t be like me. I’m sure you’ve realized it already, but he is perfect. In every way, that man is the most perfect being to walk this fucking stupid, bland earth. And if you didn’t realize that already, get your head out of your ass. It’s all I’m going to ask of you.
Please handle him with care. Love him like the way I would be if I wasn’t such a goddamn coward. I let him walk out. Hell, I forced him to walk out thinking it was his fault. Here’s a few things you should know moving forward.
Hoseok loves to have his hair played with as he falls asleep. His favorite movies are children’s cartoons. He loves waffles with extra syrup and beef bibimbap and Moose Tracks ice cream. Don’t laugh at his fashion choices cause he will always look beautiful no matter what he puts together. He loves stupid jokes, but he is so intelligent. His favorite videos to watch are those dumb fashion review videos, but never say you think they’re dumb. He loves to dance, so clear room in the living room or he’ll bump into the coffee table. He is so tidy, but he leaves a mess after he cooks. He is easily distracted, but so endearing when he gets off topic. Usually, he sleeps in, and when he doesn’t he will run a bath and relax until you wake up. He will force you to use face masks once a week, and moisturize before you go to bed every night. He will want to sleep on your chest, or clutching onto your arm, and oh yeah, he has the cutest little snore when he’s really out.
Most importantly, always know you don’t deserve his love. No one does. Hoseok is a breath of fresh air, and no one truly deserves the amount of pure love he gives.
But please, give him all your love. Don’t ever forget to do that.
You seem perfect, and he’ll be perfect too.
Yoongi sighed, his pen hovering over the page as he commended himself for his stable penmanship. This was easier to write, it was much more simple to tell Jungkook what to expect and how to avoid the mistakes Yoongi made. Despite his successful writing, something was off.
This was supposed to be the closing letter to Hoseok. Yoongi was supposed to explain that it was always his fault and that Hoseok has always been enough. This letter would never even reach Hoseok’s eyes.
But Yoongi knew he didn’t possess the strength or finesse to write a whole apology to the man he loved so dearly. So he settled for a P.S. at the bottom. His steady writing was abandoned as soon as he began to write the ‘P’. but he pressed on. He needed closure.
P.S.
Dear sunshine,
I love you, I loved you, I still love you. I just wasn’t enough.
He underlined ‘love’ three times in bold, shaky lines that blurred with the wetness of sudden tears dripping down the bridge of his nose and onto his words. He couldn’t be bothered to start over. Sliding the letter into an inconspicuous manilla envelope, Yoongi almost felt at peace until he spotted the shining silver on his hand.
He slid it off, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger as he stared down the velvet box it used to be housed in. He wanted to keep something, and he knew the ring was not an option. So the open box stayed on the table as Yoongi dropped the ring in between the folds of the notebook paper with trembling fingers.
All he could hope was that Jungkook was the first one to the letter, and that he was smart enough to know what to do to with the ring.