Archive of Our Own

sometimes yoongi gets overwhelmed. he doesn’t know how to explain it better, just knows that when everything is overwhelming and too much—too many thoughts, too many memories, too many impressions—his mind needs a pause, needs to get away for awhile.

today his pause was supposed to be a walk by the han river; his only company a loud city, the noise perfect for pushing away everything else.

like he said—was supposed to. because apparently someone didn’t get the memo.

this someone has been following him for the past ten minutes or so—some hero in a green, funny-looking costume, trailing a few hundred metres behind him. by now it’s obvious that the guy isn’t going to go away, not unless yoongi does something about it.

heaving a sigh, yoongi stops walking and pretends to appreciate the view of the city lights on the other side of the river—pretends to be completely oblivious to how the masked hero sprints to hide behind one of the bulky trees lining the asphalt.

yoongi has to grit his teeth to bite back the laugh threatening to escape. does this kid actually think he’s being sneaky?

yoongi struts around a bit, kicks a few stones around, picks his nails—continues to pretend to be entirely clueless to the hero’s existence.

he wonders what the costume-clad hero will do; if he will actually confront yoongi here, where there are no people to witness his ’mighty deed of putting a stop to a villain’.

usually heroes thrive off those kinds of headlines. yoongi frankly just finds it ridiculous.

he also finds it ridiculous that he’s clumped together with all of the villains. personally, he likes to see himself as a much more civilised person. after all, where is the joy in messing with a bunch of innocent people?

the answer as to whether the hero would dare attack him comes only a few minutes after, when he finally makes a run for it, so fast he almost becomes a blur. at least he seems to have an actually useful quirk for this line of work, yoongi muses.

unlike some people, that can do more mundane or even straight-out ridiculous things with their quirks, their powers. like that one guy yoongi once saw whose head was in the shape of some black bird.

however, despite the flashy quirk this hero must still be pretty inexperienced because, really, what was he thinking attacking yoongi of all people?

before the other can get even close enough to do any harm, yoongi stops him with a sweep of his right hand, creating a wall of ice. the hero dodges, but just barely—landing unsteadily on his feet a few metres away.

from this close, he can get a better look at his opponent.

the boy is surprisingly tall for his young age, rising a few centimeters above yoongi himself. his costume is a mix of dark green and black and splashes of white. and that’s not to speak of the very bright red sneakers. a mask as green as the rest of the costume covers his entire face. there’s a metal piece in place of his mouth and—

are those bunny ears on his head?

the hero goes to attack again, bending his knees so he can take off towards yoongi. he must have some sort of speed quirk, yoongi thinks. or maybe something with strength?

“easy there, bunny-boy,” yoongi says.

the hero pauses his attack at that. “...bunny? what―i’m not a bunny,” he stutters, voice surprisingly high and soft.

yoongi snorts and points his look at the other’s head. “you literally have ears,” he dead-pans.

he can’t see the other’s expression through the mask, but he can hear how flustered he must be when he splutters, “well―you, uh. you―you’re short!”

yoongi can’t stop his laugh this time. “ouch. never heard that one before. what are you, twelve?”

“i’m not a kid, though?”

“your costume sure does look like something a kid would wear,” yoongi rebukes.

“well… you’re pretty much evil so—um. your opinions don’t matter,” the hero states, stuttering in a way that suggests that he’s just reaching by now.

yoongi raises his eyebrows. “are you for real?”

“you are known for being bad, quit playing.”

yoongi heaves another, heavy sigh. he’s so over this.

suddenly the boy leaps into the air again―like a bunny―and yoongi sends out another wall of ice. however, due to his surprise it comes out more powerful than he had planned.

the hero couldn’t have been ready for that, for he crashes right into it, smashing it to pieces, getting knocked to the ground in the process.

and, the thing is, yoongi hadn’t planned on hurting him. he had been out on a peaceful walk after all, simply minding his own business. when the boy approached he figured he might joke around with him for a while, but―well. here they are.

yoongi walks up to the unconscious hero. “you’re a complete disaster,” he groans, scooping the boy off the asphalt. “like, holy hell, how does anyone let you out of their sight. stop picking fights with people you aren’t ready for.”

as he scoops the hero off the ground, the boy’s mask falls off, revealing―

oh.

instead of being met with a kid’s face like he had expected, he’s instead met with that of someone probably not much younger than himself. and what’s even worse is—

he’s cute.

he has chestnut brown hair that lays messily around his head, looking so very soft and shiny. a few stray locks are plastered to his sweaty skin. and his skin—it’s flushed, glowing, complementing a pair of rosy lips, currently pulled into a small pout.

long, dark eyelashes flutter against the boy’s cheeks, leading yoongi’s eyes to a scar on one side, a short and thin line marking his otherwise flawless skin.

yoongi wonders who dared to hurt this boy, then immediately stops himself because—why should he care?

the hero’s eyes flash open in that moment, and yoongi—he almost drops the boy, embarrassed at being caught oogling.

”wow… pretty…” the hero giggles airily, reaching his hand towards yoongi’s face.

yoongi pauses. he knows that the other is completely gone: his eyes glazed and unfocused, speech slurred. the comment doesn’t mean anything, but it still flusters him. even more so when—

fingertips graze the flaming scar on the left side of yoongi’s face—a delicate, feathery touch.

however, almost immediately, the hero promptly blacks out again, his hand slumping back down.

yoongi’s cheeks are on fire, his skin tingling from the lingering touch.

he’s so cute, god damn it. how can someone this cute be so annoying.

yoongi shakes his head—get your shit together. this hero has been nothing but a nuisance to him, so why is he acting like this?

yoongi takes a few deep breaths to compose himself, then begins to walk the same way he got here, towards a busy road. carefully, as to not justle the boy too much, he pulls out his phone.

it only takes two dials for the person to pick up.

without any greeting, the person asks, “what’s wrong?”

“hello to you too, hyung. why do you think something’s wrong?”

seokjin scoffs. “please―you never call me unless you need my help.”

“alright, okay,” yoongi admits sheepishly. ”hyung, can you come pick me up?”

there’s a sigh from the other. “where are you?”

“i’m by the han river. the usual place.”

a pause, followed by, “you owe me for this!”

“hyung you’re the best,” says yoongi, dialing his charms up high.

”i know,” another sigh can be heard, then, “i’ll be there soon.”

“i―what?” seokjin gapes, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. ”what did you do?”

“why do you always think that i am the one that did something?” yoongi whines.

he wheezes, eyeing yoongi accusingly.“because… you’re carrying a―an unconscious person? who else could be at fault?”

yoongi pouts. “he started it.”

seokjin gawks at him. “oh my god. just get in the car, yoongi.”

he goes to put the boy in the backseat, but halts as he’s about to open the door. looking back at seokjin, he starts to ask, ”with him or—”

”of course with him!” seokjin exclaims, looking more and more exasperated. ”we can’t just leave him here!”

”right—yeah, that’s right,” yoongi agrees. still, his somewhat stuttering must have given something away, for seokjin narrows his eyes and asks,

”or… is there a reason you don’t want to bring him with us?”

yoongi then does his best to explain the situation to seokjin, who only looks more and more amused the more yoongi talks. when he comes to the part where the hero called him short, seokjin begins laughing so loud that yoongi begs him to stop, so what if i’m short?

he continues, ”he really didn’t really do anything funny or offensive when calling me short, hyung. stop laughing,” which only results in his friend laughing harder.

yoongi groans and ignores him, then goes to put the unconscious hero in the back of the car. he makes sure to place the boy down carefully so he can comfortable lay across all of the seats without any risk of getting jostled around too bad during the drive.

seokjin, having by then collected himself and taken his place in the driver’s seat, turns to them from the front seat. ”but you know, there’s a reason he ambushed you—”

yoongi snorts. ”what ambush.” the hero had not even been close to ambushing him—yoongi had known he was being followed all along.

”he did it because he obviously finds something about you bothersome—”

”bothersome,” yoongi gasps in an exaggerated way. ”but i’m an angel, though—”

”can you please let me talk. holy shit, why do i put up with you,” seokjin groans. ”either way, he finds you evil, or something—” seokjin gives him a glare when he begins to open his mouth again, ”so… don’t you think he’d be, well, pretty unhappy with this situation?”

he remains silent as he gets into the passenger seat. it’s not until seokjin starts the car and takes off down the road that he says, ”i couldn’t just leave him there.”

yoongi says it like it’s a statement, like it should’ve been the obvious reason all along.

seokjin hums, his voice filled with barely-suppressed amusement. ”yes, but—he tried to attack you. why would he want your help?”

yoongi purses his lips. ”what if he would have gotten even more hurt if i let him be? or what if he, i don’t know, bled out there on the ground?”

”yoongi, he’s not even blee―”

”but what if he was—”

”i will not hesitate to blast you out of this car if you keep interrupting me. now, what i was going to say was that—you must be the nicest not-villain out there. i’m not quite sure you know what your title entails. or maybe—” seokjin begins to chuckle. ”maybe you think he’s cute—”

”that’s not it—”

”whatever you say, yoongichi,” he teases, quickly followed by a loud ”we’re here!” to interrupt yoongi before he can start on the rant that’s on the tip of his tongue.

”now let’s get your lover-boy to safety,” seokjin continues, getting out of the now parked car.

yoongi chokes, forgetting everything he was supposed to say and instead splutters, ”l-lover—lover-boy? what do you mean by that? hyung?”

yoongi makes seokjin carry the hero from the car as revenge for teasing him too much: the word lover-boy now refuses to leave his mind, which only proves to annoy him.

because—what lover-boy? just because yoongi didn’t want harm to come to someone innocent did not make him into a lover-boy.

he concludes that it’s just his hyung being ridiculous. yes, that has to be it. but then again, why is yoongi’s heart thumping this hard? why did his cheeks flush like crazy when he saw the hero’s face?

he shakes his head. no―these thoughts are all seokjin’s fault; it’s just his friend’s words making him think too much about it. it doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. don’t let him get to your head, yoongi.

“hey lover-boy, help me open the door,” seokjin sing-songs, his giggles barely suppressed when yoongi sends him a nasty glare (all the while his cheeks still burn, which still doesn’t mean a thing).

ignoring to give seokjin a verbal response, yoongi stomps over and sharply puts in the code, 1-3-0-6, then pushes the door open when it unlocks with a click.

after kicking off his shoes, he leaves seokjin to deal with the hero to get himself something to drink. stomping to the kitchen, yoongi ignores seokjin’s complaints about how heavy the boy is, how his old back might break, how yoongi needs to treat his elders with respect. yoongi just scoffs.

their apartment is an open plan; to the left side of the entrance there’s a living room that melts into a kitchen, only a mahogany kitchen counter separating the two parts.

to the right are only two doors: one for him, and one for seokjin.

the walls are a light grey, matching with the darker grey sofa standing beneath two windows and the white carpet it stands upon. in front of it stands a tv, but besides that and a few pictures and shelves hanging on the walls—that’s it.

it’s small, but in a cozy way, a perfect fit for the two roommates. it’s in a good location too, the view of seoul’s skyscrapers can be seen through the windows.

as yoongi stands in the kitchen with his glass of water, seokjin finally shuffles in and dumps the hero on the sofa with a groan.

they move to stand over him, looking at his unconscious body.

“what do we do now?” seokjin asks, bewildered.

yoongi belatedly realises how odd this situation actually is. he can only shrug his shoulders and say, “now we wait, i guess.”

yoongi is sitting alone by the kitchen counter with a book when the hero wakes up about an hour later. the boy sits up in a flash as he spots yoongi, eyes wide and mouth agape, and then proceeds to fall off the sofa with a heavy thump.

”w-why am i here?!” the hero skrieks. ”did you kidnap me? oh my god, i’m gonna die. i’m too young to die, i have so much to do in life. i just got my hero licence, this is not fair.”

yoongi rolls his eyes. ”i’m not going to kill you.”

the boy looks at him dubiously with doe-like eyes, his lips tugging down at the corners. ”are you… sure?”

”why would i want to kill you?” yoongi says, exasperated. then, thinking about how this is an aspiring hero, he groans and quickly adds, ”wait—don’t answer that.”

”if you’re not going to kill me then… why am i here?” the hero hesitantly asks.

”i don’t know where you live or anything, so…” yoongi scratches his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed.

the hero seems slightly confused, as if he wasn’t expecting that. ”so… you’re not gonna keep me here against my will?”

”no! god—no. you can leave at any time,” he rushes to say. ”my friend seokjin can drive you home right now, if you want.”

at that he goes from apprehensive to excited. it gives yoongi whiplash. ”seokjin? as in—kim seokjin?” he asks, sounding amazed. ”i didn’t know he was friends with you. ah… that’s too bad,” he continues, now looking more and more crestfallen. ”he has one of the most powerful quirks out there, too…”

and—wait a second. he was just now looking very excited at the thought of meeting seokjin. until he heard that he was friends with yoongi.

he frowns. ”i’m not that bad. and i have a great quirk, too.”

”you’re not using your quirk to do any good, though,” the hero snorts, words filled with tainted judgement.

ouch. why did he help this kid, now again?

still, he brushes it off. yoongi knows that most people simply don’t know any better. ”whatever. let’s just go, i’ll get seokjin-hyung.”

once back in the car, the hero just does not stop asking seokjin questions—his disappointment in seokjin being a friend of yoongi’s nowhere to be seen. his hair flops adorably as he bounces excitedly in his seat, lips pulled up into a smile that shows off large front teeth. bunny teeth, yoongi’s mind provides.

by listening to their conversation, yoongi learns this: the boy’s name is jeon jeongguk, his quirk is super-strength and he’s currently training to become a pro-hero. his face lights up when he speaks about how one day soon he’s going to save lives by becoming the new number one pro-hero.

“it’s unfortunate that the old number one had to retire, but the new one is pretty admirable too. i think he was the old number two?” jeongguk pauses. “either way―his flame quirk is really cool and interesting. it kind of reminds me of yours,” he says to seokjin.

yoongi sits quietly with his arms crossed in the backseat, not wanting to hear anymore of this conversation. he averts his eyes to try and hide the way they had widened at hearing that, watching the buildings that pass by outside instead. nothing can escape the notice of seokjin, though―their long friendship making it easy for them to pick out each other’s feelings and moods.

”you seem very into this whole hero thing,” says seokjin, glancing back worriedly at yoongi. he knows that his friend changed the subject for him, and sends him a tight smile through the rear mirror, trying to show his appreciation even though he’s feeling slightly clammy from the mention of him.

”i am! i’ve always been very into quirks and heroes and all that,” jeongguk answers, eyebrows furrowed like he’s noticed that something is off, just doesn’t know exactly what.

none of them say anything for the rest of the ride, and after some rather awkward thirty minutes later, jeongguk points them to the apartment complex he lives in.

seokjin parks the car outside and goes to walk jeongguk to his apartment, his good manners overstriding any lingering stiffness between them.

”hey yoongi, you should come too,” seokjin suggests, giving him a pointed look that says that it’s not actually a suggestion.

yoongi doesn’t particularly want to—knows jeongguk probably wouldn’t want him to—but he steps out of the car anyway.

they walk in a stilted silence all while they ride the elevator and walk down a corridor. yoongi feels a bit bad, knowing it wouldn’t have been this awkward had he stayed in the car.

”well… this is me.” jeongguk says, coming to a stop in front of a door. ”thanks for bringing me here and uh—for taking care of me.”

he says the last part to yoongi, who startles a bit at it, not having expected jeongguk to speak to him, even less to thank him.

”um. yeah—no problem,” yoongi mumbles.

”it was to meet you, jeongguk. let’s keep in contact, yeah?” seokjin says, handing over his phone to exchange numbers with him.

jeongguk perks up at that. ”i’d love that!”

with a few more words exchanged between the two of them, with yoongi standing quietly to the side, he and seokjin then starts to leave.

however, as soon they start walking back to the elevator, the door swings open violently before jeongguk even has a chance to touch the door handle.

it makes all of them jump, and puts yoongi on edge. he can feel his left palm turn cold, as it tends to do when he’s getting ready to fight.

”jeongguk-ah! is that you? where were you? oh my god, we were so worried!” a boy stands in the door opening, hair a murky green and eyes wide. his deep voice booms out into the hallway with his rush of questions.

”hyung?” jeongguk moves over to what must be his friend. ”what is going on?”

”i could ask you the same! jimin called and said he couldn’t find you!”

two other boys appear from within the apartment, both of them going, ”jeongguk!” before hurrying to the hero, starting to look over him for wounds, most likely.

”jimin-hyung. namjoon-hyung,” jeongguk pauses, looking slightly baffled. ”i’m fine, i swear. no need to worry,” he says to all of them as they keep fussing.

everything is going so fast. none of them have even noticed him and seokjin standing there. however, yoongi’s mind is stuck at—

”namjoon? what are you doing here?” seokjin has the same confused expression as yoongi.

the tallest of the boys standing around jeongguk startles, snapping his head in their direction. his eyes widen comically when he spots them.

”yoongi-hyung? seokjin-hyung? um—”

”namjoon, you know these people?” one of the boys—taehyung—asks accusingly.

namjoon’s gaze moves nervously between all of them. ”i—”

the shorter boy that jeongguk had called jimin spots yoongi and gasps, then says, ”holy fuck. you’ve been spying—”

namjoon sputters and chokes. ”what do you mean spying—”

”hyung, this is ridiculous. let’s just go home,” yoongi tries to plead to seokjin.

”i don’t know what you mean, this is hilarious.” he’s laughing that squeaky laugh of his all the while saying it, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

yoongi just rolls his eyes at all of them. it’s ridiculous; so what if namjoon knows both them and yoongi? why would knowing him even be a bad thing? i’m not so bad, he wants to scream at them, you don’t even know me.

jeongguk stands off to the side as well. he too is wearing an expression that just screams of what is going on? while the rest of the boys keep bickering loudly. they’re so noisy that yoongi worries one of their neighbors will come out to complain soon.

yoongi bites his cheeks as he sneaks glances at the hero, who is still clad in his costume; he must be tired from today. and, while it might be yoongi’s fault, he still worries that all this commotion might give him a headache or something.

slowly he shuffles closer to the boy. at first sign of annoyance or discomfort by yoongi’s approaching presence, he will leave jeongguk alone, he decides. it’s enough that his presence bothers the others. yoongi’s just—curious. he doesn’t know why, but something in jeongguk pulls at yoongi.

for some reason he wants to make sure that jeongguk is okay, that he’s not scared of yoongi anymore. even though it’s all a big misunderstanding and yoongi technically didn’t do anything wrong.

his feelings confuse him; he doesn’t usually like any new people he meet. especially not heroes their hero license and desires to become the number one pro-hero. they usually return the sentiment. he doesn’t want that to be the case with this hero.

he coughs lightly as he slides up beside jeongguk. “so, um—you know namjoon?” he asks in a low voice.

”yeah. you too?” jeongguk answers, to yoongi’s surprise.

“hm.”

it turns silent after that: yoongi not having anything else to say, jeongguk not willing to talk. or so yoongi thinks until—

”you wanna go inside? they might be a while…” jeongguk suggests. to yoongi. maybe he had read him wrong?

either way―it pleases him. smiling at the other, he says, ”please.”

jeongguk’s apartment is about as small as his and seokjin’s, just more colorful. it matches the parts of jeongguk’s personality that he’s seen so far, yoongi thinks.

they’re sitting in the kitchen; the other boys occupying the living room after a neighbour eventually had come out to yell at them for being too loud. their voices are muffled through the wall, having begun to quiet down just a few minutes ago.

it’s gotten dark by now—the city lights from the outside the window reflecting in the other’s dark, doe-like eyes. the hero has changed out of his costume and into a pair of black sweatpants and a red hoodie, so big it swallows him up.

it makes him look much more soft and normal, not like some try-hard hero. yoongi finds that he has to fight against the urge to coo at how cozy and warm jeongguk looks.

”i can’t believe i’m talking to a super-villain,” jeongguk muses from his place beside yoongi, his head resting against the marbled counter.

yoongi can do nothing but sigh. ”for fucks sake—i’m not actually a villain.”

”everyone calls you that, though.”

”i would never harm anyone that’s innocent—pretty sure that’s all villains do,” yoongi counters.

jeongguk turns to look at him, head still on the counter, his hair dark and soft against the white, hard marble.

”but the hero ac—”

yoongi snorts. ”the hero academy is bullshit. this whole thing with heroes is bullshit. it’s just adults pushing their agenda and morals onto their kids. it doesn’t allow us to create our own image of the world—everything is just always good or bad. they tell us that nothing can be somewhere in between.”

”i never had someone tell me who i should be or what to think,” jeongguk says, stubborn.

”but i’m sure you had some role-model or something that influenced you.”

jeongguk hums. ”yeah—you’re right. i owned like all his merch and everything.”

yoongi lift his eyebrows as if saying see?

jeongguk sits up straight and rolls his eye. ”that doesn’t invalidate my opinions on whether something is morally right or wrong.”

”sure,” yoongi deadpans. he can’t help his strong opinions about this subject; he will always be blunt when it comes to what he believes in. even now, when he can see an angry glint grow in the other’s eyes, he doesn’t want to back down.

still―yoongi also doesn’t want to cause another conflict between them. it’s been a long day: from the fight this morning, to somehow ending up in this foreign apartment filled to the brim with strangers.

exhaustion has begun to pull on his bones, so instead of arguing anymore, he says the only thing he can come to think of without having to completely back down,

“agree to disagree?”

“sure,” jeongguk mumbles tentatively. he seems like another blunt, headstrong person, so yoongi takes this as a sign that maybe he’s feeling too tired to fight again, too.

the other boys come stumbling through the doorway then.

”what are you doing?” taehyung asks, looking suspiciously between them. ”anyway—doesn’t matter. we’re going to do rock-paper-scissors. winning side gets to keep namjoon.”

jeongguk laughs at that. yoongi glances over at the hero, sees the way his eyes and nose wrinkles from the big grin on his face.

namjoon splutters from his place in the very corner of the room, ”i never agreed to this—”

”you can’t be friends with both us and them, hyung,” jimin states.

yoongi looks at his friend’s flabbergasted expression and decides to show some mercy. ”i think he can,” he says.

taehyung and jimin both look like they want to protest strongly against that. before they have the chance to however, jeongguk is by their side―when did he move from his side?―and shoos them out from the kitchen.

seokjin finally lets his laughter free, flushing down to the neck with how hard he’s laughing.

“ah… this is the best day ever. thank you for this entertainment, joon-ah,” he wheezes out between squeaks of laughter, wiping a tear away.

”yeah, whatever,” namjoon mumbles, his expression so dumbfounded that yoongi can’t help but laugh at him too.

yoongi pats his friend on the shoulder on his way out with seokjin, leaving him to his own suffering in the kitchen. he thinks he hears him mutter “why am i even friends with any of you people…” as he walks past him.

the rest of the apartment seems vacant of life, except for the sound of muffled voices coming from one of the closed doors. yoongi thinks about saying goodbye to jeongguk but stops himself, because―why would he?

they’re not friends, after all. not even close; they had been in a fight only a few hours ago. it wouldn’t be in his place to get that close, that fast.

and so he drags a still amused seokjin out to the car, and then finally they go back home.

the next day, he’s rudely awaken by sun shining in his face. he grumbles―in his exhaustion last night he had collapsed straight into bed, completely forgotten to roll down the blinds.

yoongi drags himself to the bathroom. washing his face, he takes a long look at himself in the mirror.

his hair is a mess of white and red, split down the middle. his eyes―one blue and one brown―are framed by dark bruises, his body still exhausted.

lastly, he makes himself look at it, at his scar. despite having had it for almost his whole life, it’s still an inflamed red colour, covering almost the entirety of his left cheek—the same side with the red hair, and blue eye.

yoongi usually despises his left side and avoids looking at it―it’s his side, after all. but now when he looks at his scar, he’s reminded of jeongguk’s fingertips grazing it, so softly, so gently, so carefully.

lover-boy, seokjin’s voice echoes in his mind, taunting him.

yoongi doesn’t get why it bothers him so much. it’s just a word with no meaning, after all. a taunt from his hyung.

yoongi shakes his head and gets dressed in his usual all-black fashion, in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

shuffling out of his room, he finds seokjin sitting at the kitchen counter, munching on a piece of toast.

”morning,” yoongi rasps, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

”hm, you too,” seokjin murmurs. he slumps further down in his seat. ”i’m so tired—why am i so tired?” he groans.

”maybe because you stayed up for longer than 8.30 for once,” yoongi snorts.

”8.30 is a very respectable bedtime, thank you very much. more people should follow my example, the beauty sleep does wonders for the looks.” seokjin says. ”you being one of them, because not to be rude but—you look like shit.”

”thanks, hyung,” yoongi snorts.

”no problem,” seokjin chuckles. then, more seriously he asks, ”it’s worse than usual today, though. is it because of what happened yesterday?”

”i think so? i don’t know, it was pretty intense, i guess,” sighs yoongi. he doesn’t particularly feel up for talking much more about it.

seokjin must pick up on his need for some normalcy, for his serious expression turns into that look: the one he gets when he’s about to do something that will annoy yoongi.

”you mean that your lover-boy was kinda intense.” seokjin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

yoongi groans, exasperated. ”hyung, that’s so ridiculous.” still, he can’t help but flush slightly as he says it.

like, so what if yoongi found jeongguk cute, and handsome, and maybe thought he had a nice smile too, with bunny-teeth poking out between soft lips—

”do you admit to finding him cute, at least?” seokjin teases, a knowing look in his eyes.

”what—no!” yoongi stutters, feeling like he just got caught somehow.

”i see you, lover-boy,” seokjin sing-songs.

”ugh,” yoongi groans and tries to slip back into his room, much to the amusement of his friend.

”nope,” seokjin says as he pulls yoongi back into the kitchen. ”hoseok will be here in, like, five minutes. i need you to open the door.”

yoongi barks out a laugh at that. ”oh, yeah? now who’s the lover-boy here hyung?” he asks. ”is he perhaps wearing his costume?”

seokjin flushes. ”s-so what if he’s wearing his costume?”

”why do you need me to open the door then? you’re here too, after all,” yoongi muses, acting flippantly.

”fine! fine—i can’t see him in that costume of his. are you happy now?” seokjin bursts out. ”it’s too much! i can’t believe he calls that—that thing clothing,” he whines as he gestures with his hands.

a series of knocks sound out against the door then. seokjin’s eyes widen. ”yoongi!” he hisses. ”please do me this favour. just this once. i’m going to die if i see his bare chest again,” the blonde-haired pleads.

”hm…” yoongi pretends to think hard about it.

”i promise to stop calling jeongguk your lover-boy,” he says frantically.

”deal.” yoongi walks over to the door, meanwhile seokjin sprints into his room with a ”come get me when he’s decent!”

”yoongi-hyung!” a blur of fiery red meets him when he unlocks the door and pushes it open, feeling himself get tackled with an enthusiastic hug. ”it’s been too long, i missed you!” a voice shrieks in his ear.

if seokjin was yoongi’s right hand, then hoseok was his left one. they had all met a few years back in school, when yoongi was still pursuing a plastic dream of becoming the best pro-hero one day. they had been in the same class, studied together, worked out together—done pretty much everything together.

yoongi laughs warmly. ”i missed you too, seok-ah.” seokjin had been right in that hoseok would be wearing his costume, for yoongi is met with an unnecessary amount of bare skin as he returns the hug.

hoseok pulls back. ”where’s seokjin-hyung?” he asks, eyeing the room. ”i thought i heard his voice just now…”

yoongi does his best to keep his face stoic. ”he’s still getting ready, he’ll be out soon.”

”alright,” the red-haired answers with a smile, scratching his stomach. and yeah—yoongi can get why seokjin could be slightly, well, bothered by the outfit.

hoseok’s costume consists of black pants and a red vest that maybe covers the other’s shoulders.

”you can borrow my room if you want to get changed,” yoongi offers.

”oh, i’m not getting changed! i’m heading out in an hour again after all,” hoseok says cheerily. yoongi can’t stop his snickers.

”what?” the other asks, confused.

yoongi coughs, composing himself. ”nothing. wait here, i’ll go get seokjin-hyung.”

he leaves hoseok there and slinks into the other bedroom of the apartment, closing the door behind him. seokjin is sitting on the edge of his bed, fidgeting nervously.

he looks up when yoongi enters. ”is he getting changed?”

”he’s apparently not getting changed, hyung. c’mon, he’s waiting for you,” yoongi says, acting like he’s oblivious to the other’s misery.

”no, oh my god, i can’t go out there. yoongi, please. you know i love you, don’t do this to me!” he whisper-yells as yoongi takes a hold of his wrist and starts pulling him to the door. ”just tell him i got sick or something!”

”sorry, but i can’t do that, hyung,” yoongi says, not feeling sorry in the slightest. ”you’ll be fine.”

seokjin glares at him, his eyes pleading. ”i will blast you.”

yoongi laughs. ”do it. i’ll just ice you right back.”

with a final push, they tumble out into the living room, where hoseok is sitting on the sofa. when he sees them he jumps up to his feet.

”is everything okay?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

”y-yeah,” seokjin stammers, eyes glued to the other’s abs, ears almost as red as hoseok’s hair.

”are you sure? you look awfully red,” hoseok frowns. when he goes to take a closer look, seokjin stops him with a hand on his chest.

”i’m fine!” he squeaks. then, realising where his hand is placed, he pulls it back like he just got burned.

yoongi glances at hoseok, and sees that he has some pink dusting his cheeks, too. he hides his snickers behind a handz they’re so oblivious.

they just remain standing there, looking at each other with red faces.

”i’m going to my room for a bit. it was nice to meet you again, hoseok-ah,” says yoongi, startling them out of their staring.

seokjin glares daggers at him when yoongi leaves his friend alone with hoseok, to which he only smiles back—a sickly sweet one—and mouths have fun, lover-boy.

a week later, yoongi receives a call from an unknown number. he frowns, not able to remember giving out his number to someone.

“hello?” yoongi answers.

“hi, um. it’s jeon jeongguk,” a gentle voice—jeongguk’s voice—says. yoongi knows he didn’t give his number to the hero, so how did he get it?

at yoongi’s silence, the boy goes on, ”i don’t know if you remember me, but―”

“i remember you, bunny-boy,” he interrupts. there’s a scoff from the other side at the nickname. ”how did you get my number?”

”namjoon gave it to me,” jeongguk explains.

yoongi sighs, feeling slightly disappointed. of course jeongguk hadn’t voluntarily wanted to call him, instead having been talked into doing so by namjoon.

”can we talk? like, in person?” asks the hero.

”you want to meet up?” yoongi has to ask to make sure that he heard right. calling yoongi was one thing, but wanting to meet with him―

jeongguk hums in agreement. ”you can come over to my place.”

”i can be over in an hour or so,” yoongi says, lips pursed. this is very unexpected, and he’s not really sure how to react to any of it. on one hand he feels pleased, but on the other his mind is reeling with thoughts of how this has to be some sort of set-up to toy with him.

”see you soon, yoongi-ssi,” jeongguk says, then hangs up.

yoongi-ssi?. he’s even speaking formally to him now? it feels odd—this stiff politeness. it doesn’t feel like the jeongguk he had met, like the jeongguk he had sat together with in the dim kitchen.

yoongi is quick to get ready, eager to meet with the hero despite his stomach feeling slightly uneasy with nerves.

he opts for taking the subway to jeongguk’s apartment, his face covered up with his usual mask and bucket hat. he likes the anonymity it gives him: it’s like a shield between him and everyone else.

despite his previous determination, yoongi can’t help but get progressively more and more nervous during the ride. he thinks about calling namjoon to ask what he said to the hero, but in the end decides against it. he would much rather hear it directly from jeongguk―even if he has no idea what it even entails.

for what it’s worth, yoongi could even be setting himself up for an ambush, what with jeongguk’s moral alignment and all that. he tries not to think about that possibility too much, though; instead choosing to, perhaps foolishly, put his trust in the hero.

luckily their apartments aren’t too far from each other, and he can soon push his way off the crowded train. he keeps his head down as he marches out of the subway station and onto the dull street, the chill air punching him, making him hunch into himself.

there’s no turning back now, he thinks. the entrance to the high-rising apartment complex is just on the other side of the street—not even five metres away. going back home now would be cowardly. or, maybe not cowardly since he doesn’t have any obligations towards the hero. rather, yoongi feels like he wants to hear what jeongguk has to say because, for some reason, the hero’s opinion of him have been bothering ever since the day they met.

or well, more like fought each other.

he walks into the building with a purpose, rides the elevator to the fifth floor and turns left down the corridor. he knocks on the door before he can think anymore about it, steeling himself for what’s coming.

”wait a minute!” jeongguk’s voice rings out from inside.

soon after the door clicks open. jeongguk stands in the entrance, looking just as soft as last time with a black oversized hoodie and the same black sweatpants.

”oh—yoongi-ssi, hi,” jeongguk says. yoongi doesn’t really know how to react—he can’t get over the fact that jeongguk is being so nice to him, when only a week ago he had been more than willing to initiate a fight between them. “that was fast.”

yoongi blinks at him. “you asked me to come.”

”i did. come inside, it’s easier to talk in here,” jeongguk says, then walks back inside without waiting for yoongi to enter first.

following the boy, jeongguk gestures for yoongi to take a seat beside him on the sofa. yoongi trails over, feeling out of place despite having been here before, and carefully sits down on the surprisingly soft seat. he ends up a bit closer to jeongguk than expected, can feel heat emitting from the other. still—he doesn’t move away, and neither does jeongguk.

”so… i realised i may have been a bit unfair to you.” jeongguk’s eyes are glued to his knees, where his fabric-covered hands are clenched into fists. ”namjoon talked to me after you two left. it made me think about some things. don’t get me wrong—i still believe in my morals but…”

”you realised that i could be right, too?” yoongi supplies. he wasn’t sure what jeongguk had wanted to see him for, but if this was the reason, it’s a pleasant surprise. not a lot of people dare to look past their opinions like this. especially not for yoongi. it makes the cold nerves in his stomach bloom into something much warmer; it feels a little bit like relief, like hope.

jeongguk looks up at him and scrunches his nose—like a bunny, yoongi’s mind unnecessarily whispers to him—and says, ”yeah, something like that.”

”anyway—i was somewhat unfair and childish, and i just want to apologize,” jeongguk continues. yoongi’s chest keeps getting lighter and lighter, because this feels an awful lot like ―acceptance.

”oh, that’s right! didn’t you call me short as an insult, or something like that?” yoongi needs to change the subject. the acceptance―if that is even what it is (yoongi desperately hope it is)―has put him on edge. if they keep going, he might just free-fall into something unknown; somewhere he’s not ready to discover just yet.

luckily, jungkook doesn’t seem to find the change of direction odd. he just looks embarrassed, and whines, ”you were a bit childish too! you called me a bunny-boy. who even does that?”

”i did it because you actually do look like a bunny.” yoongi almost coos as he says it, but is quick to catch himself. because, what the hell, jeongguk looking like a bunny is not a cute thing. no—not at all.

”i do not!” jeongguk exclaims, pouting, “ at least i didn’t have to make up an insult—you are actually short.”

”i know,” yoongi says, because he does know. and even if it would bother him―which it absolutely doesn’t―he would never admit to it.

jeongguk seems to be sulking when he realises that his hit missed its target completely, yoongi outwardly remaining as unbothered as before.

however, he doesn’t feel calm on the inside. he has noticed it happening every time the other has been in close proximity to him, ever since that first time his mask fell off: yoongi’s heart racing, stomach fluttering and cheeks heating.

but―jeongguk doesn’t need to know about that.

feeling flustered and needing to change the subject again, this time before his flaming cheeks betray him, he asks, ”what did namjoon say that made you rethink, by the way?”

he trusts his friend to not have spilled anything too private, but still—he’s been curious ever since he got the call earlier. it must have been something of importance if it got jeongguk to apologize, seeing as the boy gives off the impression of being very resolute when it comes to his opinions.

”nothing too personal, don’t worry,” he says, as if he read yoongi’s mind. ”namjoon-hyung just said to trust your reasons; to trust that you have good intentions. and i trust his judgement,” he continues. as if it’s that simple.

and maybe to jeongguk—it is. yoongi wishes he could be as trusting as jeongguk one day.

jeongguk must have said everything that he had called yoongi here for, and yoongi now has no actual reason to remain here. still—he refrains from mentioning it, not wanting to leave this warm apartment with its trusting, soft-looking boy.

”so… where are you from?” yoongi asks.

luckily, jeongguk doesn’t seem to think the question is too out of the blue. instead, he only seems to perk up at being asked about his home-town. ”busan! i grew up there with jimin-hyung, actually. he was the one with black hair yesterday,” his words roll fast with excitement, an accent creeping into his voice. mindlessly he continues, ”you know, your right eye reminds me a bit of the sea.”

yoongi’s brain halts completely.

jeongguk’s brain must catch up with him then. flustered, he splutters, ”wait, i mean—it’s blue, like the sea! it’s pretty.”

the it’s pretty echoes on repeat in his ears.

”um, i—thank you. you have pretty eyes too,” yoongi almost squeals, all the while stumbling over his words.

and—oh shit, why did he say that.

”you think so?” jeongguk whispers, pink all the way down to his neck. yoongi thinks he must look the same; it certainly feels like it with how hot the room suddenly is.

”i—yeah. i do,” he whispers back.

jeongguk glances down bashfully at that. ”thanks, hyung. is it okay if i call you that?”

”yeah, it—it’s fine.” yoongi rushes to reply. his heart is beating so, so fast, it can’t possibly be healthy.

jeongguk smiles at him, a small and gentle thing, clear eyes shining, making it look like there are an array of stars in them.

it’s in that moment that yoongi realises that maybe seokjin had been onto something with his dumb nickname and teasing words.

fuck.

yoongi keeps going back to jeongguk’s apartment during the following weeks—the following months.

it’s like he can’t stay away for longer than a few days, like there’s something pulling at him to go back. the more he learns about jeongguk, the stronger the pull becomes, until it feels like he’s anchored himself to the other. seokjin and hoseok and namjoon have always helped him stay afloat, have supported him through both stormy and peaceful times. and now, with the addition of jeongguk, he feels even more secure.

yoongi feels like maybe, just maybe, he has become an anchor to the other as well.

however, it takes time to come to this point of mutual trust. the first few weeks are clouded with continued mistrust from the hero’s side; a simple talk with namjoon couldn’t possibly change jeongguk’s view of yoongi’s morals, or of the way he lives his life. they clash several times, and bicker almost every time they meet, yet never once it turns into another full-out conflict.

instead they both end it with an ‘agree to disagree’ when it starts to turn ugly, and talking turns into yelling.

the feeling of light relief never once leaves him when he’s around jeongguk: never once during their conflicts does he feel unaccepted, or gets called things like evil or villain again. not even jeongguk’s friends refer to him as such anymore. for the first time in years, someone other than seokjin, hoseok and namjoon treat him with respect.

it’s something so small to be happy about, but he is―yoongi feels happier than he has for a long time.

something yoongi isn’t as happy about at first, however, is the fact that he has never had as little control over his quirk as he has when he’s with jeongguk. he practiced his entire life after all, just so that he always would have full control over it. it’s not until one evening, when jeongguk has joined him and seokjin for their weekly movie night, that he just―accepts this lack of control he now has.

it’s the first time anyone have joined him and seokjin during movie night; not even hoseok has gotten the honour to do so. so when yoongi nervously asks seokjin for permission to bring a guest and his friend more than enthusiastically agrees, small seeds of suspicion starts to grow.

at this point it’s been long enough for the seasons to have changed since that day by the han river, and so, when he greets jeongguk by the door, it’s with the familiarity of two friends.

this evening, jeongguk is wearing what yoongi has come to think of as his ‘nice’ clothes: tight, black jeans with a yellow t-shirt tucked in. the first yoongi saw him in these clothes―by then used to baggy sweaters or the green costume―he had, much to the amusement of their friends, choked on the water he had been drinking.

objectively, he knew that jeongguk was a licensed hero, and that he must be working out a lot to stay fit. but, seeing that slim waist and those long legs of his for the first time had been a lot.

and now he’s wearing it again, making yoongi’s mouth feel dry. he looks so nice like this, yoongi thinks.

yoongi, in his stupor, fails to notice seokjin tying up his shoes by the door. it’s not until the door clicks open again that he startles, eyes snapping to the narrow hallway.

“hyung?” he asks, bewildered.

“sorry, i’ll have to skip movie night today. hoseok invited me to eat out with him and the others,” seokjin says, his smile way too smug. “but jeongguk is here to keep you company, you will be fine!”

oh, hell no. this must be revenge for when he left him alone with hoseok.

“have fun, hyung!” jeongguk says brightly from beside him, waving as seokjin leaves.

“you too, guk-ah!” seokjin beams, eyes switching to yoongi, surreptitiously mouthing lover-boy at him, right before he turns around and closes the door behind him.

yoongi curses his past self as he turns to find jeongguk already snuggled up on the sofa, fluffy blanket around him and eyes sparkling as he gazes up at yoongi, pink sunset softening his edges, bathing him in an iridescent glow.

when jeongguk proceeds to lift up one side of the blanket for yoongi to join him, he can’t help the thin layer of frost that suddenly coats his fingertips, can only hide it with his shirt-sleeve so that the other can’t see how out of control yoongi feels.

and when he joins jeongguk under the blanket, their sides pressed closely together, and he feels a weight settling on his left shoulder as jeongguk gently leans his head against him, no one can blame yoongi for leaning in closer to chase away the chill now covering his entire arm.

it's easy to slip into casual intimacy after that evening: with it becoming common for them to lean against the other, to hug when they greet each other, or the occasional hand being held.

it’s like they drift towards each other when they’re in the same room, like they’re tied to each other, something connecting them and pulling them together when someone drifts too far away.

despite that, there’s still something dividing them; an elephant in the room that no one dares to speak about, in fear for disrupting this fragile agreement they have.

it’s not until namjoon calls him one day, frantically telling him to read the news, that he decides to do something about it.

yoongi pulls up a news site on his phone and pauses as the first thing he sees is the headline “UPCOMING HERO JEON JEONGGUK CORRUPTED BY MIN YOONGI? written in large, bold letters.

when he clicks on the article, he’s met with a picture of him and jeongguk: he recognizes it from when the both of them had met with taehyung for lunch just a few days prior. it wasn’t anything special, just the two of them walking into the restaurant together, yet yoongi’s stomach sinks at the sight of it. he knows what this could mean for him and jeongguk, knows that the peace they have is an illusion of the real thing.

he grows even colder when his phone vibrates with a new notification: a simple text reading we need to talk.

when he drags his feet into jeongguk’s building an hour later, he can’t help but think of the similarities of the first time he went here after their fight―it’s eerily similar, only this time he has so much more to lose.

by now he knows the code, could help himself in if he wanted to. but, to do so now feels wrong for some reason and so he settles for knocking, waiting for jeongguk to let him in. yoongi feels jittery, his heart fluttering but for all the wrong reasons.

jeongguk opens the door, still wearing the classic, grey hero academy school uniform. behind him hangs his hero costume, looking like it’s recently been used and washed.

since they usually hang out during weekends or in the evenings, it’s the first time yoongi has seen him in his school outfit. it’s also the first time he sees the costume since that day, and it feels like a slap―both outfits further reminders that they’re not right for each other, that yoongi isn’t right for jeongguk.

jeongguk isn’t like seokjin or hoseok: who are both established pro-heroes that couldn’t care less about their reputation. neither of them work for the hero academy, having instead chosen to build their own names independently from any organisation.

no―jeongguk doesn’t have that, and he still believes in the system, still aspires to become the number one pro-hero within the hero academy. if people start to suspect that he’s siding with min yoongi, jeongguk could very well be kicked out of the academy, and lose the best chance he has of pursuing his dream.

yoongi will not, cannot, let that happen―no matter what he thinks about the hero system. risking jeongguk’s future isn’t worth it.

maybe that’s why it feels like there’s lead in his chest, weighing him down―because yoongi knows that if jeongguk’s dreams are at risk, he won’t have any other choice than to let him go.

and the thought of having to do so hurts him, more than he wants to admit, because he has grown so very fond of this wonderful boy over the last few months. yoongi has started to think that fond could one day grow into something even stronger, something he doesn’t even dare think of right now: as they’re standing at the brink of ceasing to be jeonggukandyoongi, two parts of a whole.

“come insi―” jeongguk begins to say.

“i think we should stop meeting,” yoongi interrupts, needing to let jeongguk go before he selfishly keeps the hero from following his dream.

jeongguk blinks at him. “you… you think so?” yoongi can’t read his expression, and that bothers him. shouldn’t he be happy now that yoongi has suggested it?

he nods jerkily. “it’s for the best,” he says, voice monotone, feeling disconnected from himself.

“for the―” jeongguk’s face darkens. “oh, fuck you,” he spits, venom coating his tongue.

yoongi doesn’t understand the sudden anger―this was what jeongguk wanted. he has no right to get this mad.

“no, you know what? fuck you. i don’t get what your problem is,” he hears himself sneer back, his own voice muffled in his ringing ears. he doesn’t understand why they’re fighting, doesn’t want to fight with jeongguk. yoongi only wants what’s best for his friend, yet―

“you should go,” jeongguk bits out, stony cold, too cold.

and yoongi―hurt and confused and angry―leaves jeongguk standing by the doorway, feeling like he just made a huge mistake.

somehow he gets back home in one piece. just how he did it isn’t clear, but one second he’s rushing out of jeongguk’s apartment building, and the next he’s crashing into his own, much more bleak home.

when he comes to it his sight is blurry—when did he start crying?—and seokjin is gripping his shoulders, frantically asking what’s wrong, and i thought you were with jeongguk.

it’s all too much, too overwhelming again (the first time since he met jeongguk, his mind reminds him of) and so for the first time ever, he uses his quirk on his friend in a desperate attempt to get away, to get some space. the small amount of flames he lets out is enough for seokjin to release him with a gasp—from shock, or fear maybe?

yoongi regrets it straight away, but it did what he wanted it to, and so he pushes away and dashes to his room. locking the door behind him, he then stays there, letting the hours trickle into days, and the days into a week. he sneaks out to eat, but only when he knows that no one else is at home.

at first his friends―now including taehyung and jimin, too―bang at his door, demanding to know what’s wrong, why neither he nor jeongguk speak to any of them. yoongi knows that they could use their quirks to enter his room, knows that despite their worry they’re giving him the time he needs.

he feels awful for ignoring them—especially seokjin. after what he did, his friend deserves an explanation and an apology, but yoongi just—can’t. his mind is a mess, and he’s constantly on the edge of losing control of his flames: he can’t put his friend at risk again.

he has to do something, though, and so on the second day he sneaks out of his room in the middle of the night, and leaves a note for his friend in the kitchen. it’s not the apology he deserves, but for now it’s the best yoongi can manage.

the first days yoongi just doesn’t understand why he’s this upset: jeongguk had been a good friend, but that’s all they were: friends.

that is―until one evening, when the setting sun makes pink light shine through his window. it reminds him of the time they watched a movie together, sitting so very close, jeongguk’s head on his shoulder. yoongi catches himself opening his chat room with the hero, longing to ask him to do a repeat of that night, burning to share that closeness again, to spill his thoughts and feelings and dreams to the other.

yoongi ponders this longing, this yearning to simply be with jeongguk, to be by the other’s side. he ponders the way his heart flutters when he thinks of the boy―how it still does so just as strongly as that first day, even after having known jeongguk for many months by now.

now when they’re not talking anymore, yoongi feels all wrong. perhaps this is what at last makes him see, because it’s like he lost something more than just a friend. the word even rubs uncomfortably at him: it feels like calling what they have―what they had―for friendship would underestimate their connection.

seokjin has come to knock on his door each morning, most likely to make sure that he’s still alive. when the apartment instead remains silent the morning a week later, yoongi thinks that maybe his roommate has finally given up, or maybe yoongi’s note had been enough to placate him.

it’s alright though, because yoongi is done with his isolation―his heart and mind now at ease with realisation, a newfound determination driving him to act.

when yoongi leaves his room this time, he feels lighter than he has all week. namjoon and jimin are standing in the kitchen, both of them looking over at the sound of his door clicking open.

“finally,” jimin groans. “i was starting to think that neither of you two fools would ever take the first step.”

yoongi pauses in the hallway, furrowing his brows. “how do you know i’m going to talk to him?”

jimin bursts into giggles, while namjoon raises one perfectly arched eyebrow, as if the answer to the question should be obvious.

“right...” yoongi says when they remain silent. “i’ll get going then.” but before he leaves, he carefully asks, ”is seokjin-hyung okay?”

”he’s fine,” namjoon reassures. ”don’t blame yourself for it, because seokjin-hyung sure isn’t.”

yoongi breathes out, relieved. the breath turns into choking soon enough when jimin adds, ”at least you weren’t as bad as jeongguk. he literally kicked taehyung out of the apartment. do you know how strong he is? luckily tae is strong too, but damn—”

namjoon coughs, interrupting jimin. ”right,” jimin says, sheepish.

ignoring the sharp burst of worry and guilt, yoongi goes to put on his shoes. when he’s about to close the door, jimin bellows out a call of ”good luck, lover-boy!”

”thanks!” yoongi yells back. it’s the first time the nickname doesn’t rub weirdly at him. instead it makes him smile—yoongi feeling more and more secure in his most recent discovery.

a strong sense of deja-vu engulfs yoongi as he again finds himself standing in front of jeongguk’s apartment with nerves in his stomach and jittery limbs.

still, he feels calmer this time: most of the previous times’ restlessness muted by the need to apologize, and to share his epiphany.

jeongguk opens the door almost immediately at yoongi’s knocks, like he had been waiting. after yoongi quietly enters the apartment they just keep standing there, both of them too busy taking in each other after what feels like a very long time―too long― spent apart.

yoongi takes in the other’s appearance, notices that he seems less than usual; his frame skinnier, skin paler, eyes bleak. “jeongguk-ah…” yoongi breathes, pained now that he sees that he caused the hero to suffer, too.

“hyung…” the younger’s voice breaks, lips trembling. “yoongi-hyung. you―you’re here,” jeongguk whispers weakly, like he can’t believe it.

spotting tears on the other’s cheeks, yoongi can’t stand to simply watch the other’s distress, his heart aching. “i’m here, jeongguk-ah. i’m here,” he reassures, scooping the boy into a tight hug, holding him as tight as he dares, feeling like if he lets go the other might crumple―feeling like he himself would do so as well.

a stream of whispered reassurances into the other’s dark locks leave his mouth, not stopping until jeongguk’s shoulders still and his shuddering breaths dries up.

jeongguk takes a step back while wiping his eyes with his sleeve-covered fists. it makes yoongi feel cold, and he thinks he would rather have him back in his arms again. god, how could he have been oblivious for so long?

“i’m sorry,” yoongi says. “i shouldn’t have assumed all those things.”

“no, you shouldn’t have,” jeongguk says. “but it’s okay hyung.”

“it’s not―”

“but it is,” the hero insists. “not once since that first day have i actually said that i couldn’t care less about what you do.”

yoongi pauses. “you… you don’t care about what i do? but what about the article―what about your reputation?”

“fuck my reputation. if organizations won’t accept me for being with you, i’ll just work with hoseok-hyung and seokjin-hyung.”

knowing that jeongguk is risking all of his previous dreams for yoongi, without even knowing all of the whys and hows, feels wrong. still, he can’t deny the rush of warmth at the trust the other is putting in him; something that never would have happened only a few months ago.

yoongi carefully guides jeongguk to sit down, needing to tell him all of it, before the younger chooses to walk down this new path. “do you know how i came to be, um. disliked, i guess is the word?” yoongi asks.

the younger boy purses his lips. “now that i think about it… no. by the time i graduated everyone was all like stay away from min yoongi, he’s a bad guy. i don’t think no one knew why, only that the second best pro-hero had said so. and because of that, well, it had to be true.”

yoongi’s right side tingles at the mention of the second best pro-hero. “do you know who he is?” he asks, trying to keep his tone light.

he must have failed, for jeongguk gives him a concerned look. “what’s wrong, hyung?”

his fingertips are seriously starting to burn, and he worries that he won’t be able to control himself if he keeps going. still, for jeongguk, he has to share this. “he’s my dad,” says yoongi, his jaw clenched.

from beside him, jeongguk inhales sharply. “your―your dad?” the hero sounds genuinely upset, as if he couldn’t have imagined that someone’s father could do something like that to their own son.

“i was never much of a son to him,” yoongi begins to explain. jeongguk’s hands have found their way to his, holding them tightly where they lay limply in his lap. the hero squeezes them, urges him to continue. “for as long as i can remember, he would force me to practice hard every day. he told me that he did it because he cared about my future, and that he would make sure that i would become the number one hero.”

taking a deep breath to compose himself, he then goes on. “the worst thing is―i believed him. how fucking foolish isn’t that? he worked me to my bone, and refused to listen when i told him i was hurting, that i was sick, that i didn’t want to. and despite that i kept pursuing his dream. eventually i became so similar to him that my own mom couldn’t stand it, and she did this…” he says, pulling one hand free from the other’s grasp to gesture at his scar.

yoongi’s parents had never been on good terms: his mom despised his dad, wanted yoongi to become more her son than his. mindlessly following his dad’s wishes with no regard for her would always be his biggest regret.

”it took me too long to realise that i didn’t have to be what he wanted me to be. i think it was seokjin that told me so during high school. either way—the realisation that i was actually miserable made me decide to drop out of school, away from heroes and, most importantly, away from him.” yoongi spits out any mention of his dad, despising him even now, years later.

”when he found out, he was furious. he tried to track me down and force me to go back to training. and when i decided to instead openly criticize the ’hero system’ with its top heroes and all that, he condemned and disowned me,” he finishes.

jeongguk’s face is set in stone when yoongi lifts his head, eyes blazing with—something. the hold on yoongi’s hand has throughout the story turned tighter, almost painfully so.

”that—that bastard,” jeongguk bits out. ”he treats you like that and then—then he has the gut to turn everyone against you! i’m so—” the hero groans, looking ready to pull his hair out.

this reaction—this anger and frustration—is so typical jeongguk, yoongi has come to learn. instead of feeling sad for someone, or pity them, he’ll get angry for them; like the world personally offends him when someone gets hurt. it’s what lead yoongi to accept and respect the boy’s dream of becoming a hero, instead of ridiculing him for it.

yoongi wouldn’t have liked to be met with guilt and apologies for something that the other wasn’t a fault for, and couldn’t do anything about. he finds that the burning in his right hand is gone, only to be replaced with a compelling blaze to get closer.

jeongguk’s eyes widen when yoongi places his hands to the other’s cheeks, gently sweeping his thumb over the small scar on one side.

”what…” jeongguk begins to ask, voice low.

”thank you,” yoongi whispers before the other gets the chance to finish speaking, brushing silky hair back until one hand rests against the back of the younger’s head.

brown meets blue-and-black, none of them daring to even blink in case this moment disappears.

”can i kiss you?” yoongi asks, heart full to the brim with gratitude and adoration and a promise of something much stronger beginning to bloom.

much to his relief, jeongguk nods, and even is the first one to lean in, a soft press of lips against yoongi’s own.

yoongi can’t help the sound of glee that leaves him, starting to smile so big that they’re forced to seperate.

jeongguk giggles, puffs of air against yoongi’s lips. ”hyung, c’mon,” he whines.

“right. sorry,” yoongi breathes, smile still very much present. at this proximity he can count each individual eyelash, can see each and every bump on jeongguk’s skin. yoongi finds him so pretty, can’t stop his eyes from roaming to take in even the smallest of details. gaze lowering to rosy lips, he leans in again, allowing himself to get lost in the warmth of the younger―one peck leading to another, leading to many anothers.

“jeongguk-ah. baby,” he sighs against the other’s lips. jeongguk’s hands have found their way to his waist, the touch a soaring heat even through his shirt.

“hyung,” murmurs jeongguk, lips glistening a deep red. “hyung, i like you so much. didn’t think you liked me back,” he says between pecks.

yoongi makes a sound of disagreement, finally pulling the boy fully onto his lap. “hyung likes you too, guk-ah. so much,” he confesses, softly, sincerely. it took a while to realise his true feelings for the boy, but when he did―the realisation of it felt right. he had never been so sure of anything in his life before this.

being with jeongguk always felt comfortable, easy. he didn’t have to think much, could let himself simply be, knowing that the other accepted yoongi for everything he is.

knowing that he, too, feels the same way about yoongi―it makes his heart soar, makes him feel like he could begin to float at any moment.

the feelings are so intense that his right and left side does their own thing at the same time, fire meeting ice. at one moment they’re holding onto each other, bodies pressed closecloseclose, the next―

“hyung?” jeongguk startles when white smoke rises between them.

“oh, god―i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t mean for this to happen,” yoongi says, humiliated.

jeongguk watches him curiously, a flicker of understanding—and of elation—growing in his expression. “no way…” he gasps, moving his hands to take a hold of each of yoongi’s.

gently touching both of yoongi’s hands, jeongguk begins to giggle airily, feeling the difference in temperatures. “oh my god,” he squeals, “this is amazing, i didn’t know you could do that.”

“baby,” yoongi pouts, “it’s not funny.”

“are you flustered, hyung?” jeongguk coos, smiling brightly.

yoongi only makes a suffering sound, hiding his flaming face against the other’s chest. smoke is still rising between them, but thankfully not as aggressively as before. not that it makes him feel much better.

the other’s chest shakes with laughter, jostling his head. jeongguk’s arms come up to hold him again.

“it’s cute,” jeongguk whispers into his ear, “i like it―it lets me see that you’re just as affected as i am.”

yoongi lifts his head, their eyes meeting. “yeah?”

“yes. i told you i like you, didn’t i?” jeongguk murmurs.

“you did,” yoongi breathes, glancing at his lips, remembering how they felt against his. he craves the feel of them already—always wants to be closer to jeongguk. “and i told you i like you, too.”

“you did,” jeongguk copies, smile still there.

yoongi can do nothing but smile right back; finding jeongguk so very beautiful with the happiness that is radiating from him―spreading to yoongi too, moving through him like a wildfire.

they remain in each other’s arms for hours, sharing sweet words and even sweeter kisses. both of them at first scared that it’s a dream: that there is no way the other likes him back, that if they let go maybe it’ll all disappear.

yoongi desperately doesn’t want it to disappear, he likes jeongguk so much.

but when exhaustion creeps into them both as the hour turns late and they’re still just as giddy as before, it’s like he can let a breathe out.

they’re laying on the couch now, yoongi on top of jeongguk, enjoying the way he’s holding him tight, how he can hear the slow and steady thumping in the other’s chest.

his eyes itch with how tired he is, but the itch to stay by jeongguk’s side is much bigger.

”do you want to sleep here tonight?” jeongguk asks softly. it’s such simple question, yet it means the world.

he lifts his head to look at jeongguk and murmurs, ”i’d love to,” happy that he can stay beside the other, not ready to let go.

jeongguk’s gaze is so very warm, melting the last of the frost surrounding yoongi’s heart. he knows that this isn’t the end to all of his problems, but it’s a damn good place to start.

here—in this quiet and colorful apartment, with a lively boy that he likes (loves), and that likes him back—yoongi closes his eyes, and to the sound of a thumping heart, he falls asleep.