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Seokjin watches impassively as his parents bustle around the house, getting ready to go out again. At his side is Jimin, pudgy fingers clutched around two of Seokjin’s longer, more crooked ones.
“We can’t go this time, either, huh?” Jimin mumbles dejectedly. His pants don’t quite cover his ankles. Seokjin needs to fix that later.
“Don’t be stupid, Jiminnie,” Seokjin says. “If they’ve never let us come before, of course they won’t this time.” Jimin wilts a little at his side and Seokjin surreptitiously shifts his hand to hold his brother’s a little more tightly. “It’s almost your bedtime anyways. Come along.”
“Will you read me a bedtime story?” Jimin asks, trotting along to keep up with Seokjin’s longer strides.
Seokjin doesn’t sigh. “Just one.” Jimin beams at him. “I refuse to read any of the childish ones.”
Jimin pouts. “No princesses?”
“No.”
“Dragons?”
“No.”
Seokjin ends up reading one about a princess and a dragon anyways, but it’s only one, and he doesn’t relent when Jimin whines for more. He tucks Jimin into bed after it’s over, making sure the covers are pulled all the way up to Jimin’s neck, before going to bed himself.
--
When his alarm goes off at 6am in the morning, Seokjin resolutely pulls himself out of bed despite every urge in him to hit snooze and keep on sleeping. He has things to do: breakfast to make, lunches to pack, a younger brother to wake, dress, and get to school on time. God knows their parents won’t do it. They probably aren’t even home from last night. At his most scathing, Seokjin thinks they needn’t ever come back if they’re so incompetent at parenting.
Jimin is not so happy about being woken up, but Seokjin will have none of it, manhandling his little brother into the bathroom, and sticking the toothbrush in his hand. Jimin sleepily shoves it into his mouth as Seokjin picks up a hairbrush, dragging it through the bird’s nest to make sure his younger brother is presentable.
“You will be out in ten minutes and there will be breakfast in the kitchen,” Seokjin instructs, setting down the hairbrush. Jimin yawns in reply and Seokjin makes his way to the kitchen where the toast has just now popped up and grabs butter and orange juice.
After breakfast, he walks Jimin to school. Jimin drags his feet along, lips pulled into a sulk, but Seokjin will be damned before he lets Jimin miss out on his education. His brother doesn’t need it really; Jimin is smarter than most adults Seokjin knows. But people will talk, now and later, if Jimin doesn’t attend school, and the thought of people looking down on Jimin for not having a conventional education, of people looking down at Seokjin for failing to provide that education, makes Seokjin clench his teeth.
Idiots. All of them.
“I hate school,” Jimin mumbles and Seokjin fights the urge to roll his eyes. That’s childish behavior and he won’t have Jimin learning things like that from him.
“That’s too bad since you’re still going.”
Jimin pouts, and they’re silent until they reach Jimin’s elementary school.
--
Seokjin gets a call in the middle of class.
Only a few people have his number. His parents, who never call. And Jimin, who has been instructed not to call unless it’s an emergency.
He grabs his phone and leaves the class, ignoring the teacher who calls after him.
“Hello?”
“Ah, hello? Is this Seokjin?” It’s not Jimin. Seokjin contemplates hanging up.
“Speaking?”
“There’s been an incident at school regarding your brother. Neither of his parents is answering, and you’re the last listed emergency contact?”
Seokjin blinks. His heart rate is beginning to pick up. He resists the urge to ask if Jimin is in urgent need of medical attention. Obviously he isn’t, or they've already called emergency services. They wouldn’t be talking to him so casually, otherwise. If that’s not the case, Seokjin will make life...very difficult... for these people. “Yes...what incident?”
“There’s been a fight...We need you to come in if possible?” Seokjin grits his teeth.
“Yes. I’ll be there.”
Seokjin hangs up, returns to the classroom, fixes his teacher with a glare when he opens his mouth, grabs his bag, and leaves again.
--
His brother has a black eye.
Jimin’s curled up in his chair, sniffling softly, and he has a black eye.
He glances up when Seokjin enters the room, all big teary eyes. He stretches out a hand like he wants Seokjin to take it, but Seokjin ignores him and turns to the principal, barely noticing Jimin shrinking back into himself like a kicked puppy.
“What happened?”
“Your..." She barely bites back the word "kid" when she realizes his age but continues undeterred. "He insulted our Sangjoon!” a woman barks indignantly from the side, clearly the mother of the sullen kid next to Jimin who is sporting a split lip.
”You seem hysterical,” Seokjin remarks absently. “Perhaps you should leave the room.”
“You -!”
Seokjin ignores her and looks expectantly at the principal.
“Um...well...it looks like there was a fight after Jimin said something - “
“He provoked my son!” shrieks the mother.
“Jimin,” he turns to his brother. “What did you say?”
Jimin bites his lip. The black eye is a prominent bruise on the left side of his face. Seokjin’s vision is bleeding slightly red at the edges. “I told him he was too stupid to understand what I was reading.”
“And why did you say that?”
“Cuz he said I was a loser that only reads books and doesn’t have friends.”
“Because. Don’t shorten your words. And then?”
“And then he punched me.”
Seokjin turns to regard the other child. “And your side of the story?”
The brat glares at Seokjin. “What he said.”
Seokjin turns to the mother. “So both children agree your child threw the first punch after he insulted mine.”
“Yours? Your kid insulted mine back!”
“True,” Seokjin says. “Too stupid was an assumption, but it remains fact that he does not understand the books Jimin reads so perhaps he drew a logical conclusion.”
“You - “ Seokjin cuts her off with a cold sneer.
“I don’t have time to sit here and hash out all the ways you’ve failed your child as a parent so I’ll just rectify your incompetence for you now.”
He turns back to the brat who’s starting to look a little scared.
“You may think because you’re a child, and because your mother is a pathetic excuse of a parent that coddles you, that there are no consequences to your actions. Therefore, it apparently falls to me to tell you you’re wrong.”
Seokjin bends down to look him in the eyes and relishes in the fear and the beginnings of tears he sees there. He smiles, all teeth and no warmth, and the brat flinches when he puts a hand on the kid’s head.
“Half of this is your poor upbringing, so I’ll excuse this occasion through your ignorance,” Seokjin says so softly it’s almost a whisper. He strokes through the boy’s hair a few times before gripping the back of his head in a painful vice.“But touch my brother without his permission again and I will immediately let you know the consequences you escaped here today. And you will regret it until the day of your death. Do you understand?”
The brat nods his head vigorously despite the fact that, in hindsight, he probably used words too advanced for his level. Still, the fear in his eyes and the involuntary whimpers he’s emitting lets Seokjin know he got the most important part of the message across. He debates reiterating it in words the brat can understand when the stench of urine suddenly permeates the room, the rapidly growing stain on the kid’s pants letting everyone in the room know exactly what happened.
Disgusting.
Seokjin immediately straightens and heads for the door. “Come, Jimin. We’re leaving.”
Jimin scampers to his feet after him.
Nobody in the office, neither the principal nor the mother, makes any move to stop them.
--
It’s silent as they walk home, only broken by Jimin’s fidgeting.
“Y-You’re mad?” Jimin asks quietly when they’re almost home. He’s been surreptitiously trying to hold Seokjin’s hand. Seokjin continues to deny him.
“It’s beneath your intelligence to get into a fight,” Seokjin says coldly. “You should’ve been smart enough to see the provocation for what it was and either leave or ignore him.”
“But I have been!” Jimin says indignantly, but then falters under Seokjin’s stare. “It was just...I just got so mad this time because it keeps happening.”
“Then you should have told an authority figure and let them handle it.”
Jimin doesn’t meet his eyes and stares at his shoes.
“S-Sorry,” Jimin mumbles and his voice quavers. Seokjin wants to tell him he’s too old to be crying after a scolding but he secretly likes that Jimin still cares so much what Seokjin thinks of him that he still cries over disappointing him.
“Let’s go home,” Seokjin says, and he doesn’t hug his brother or wipe his tears because that’s not what he does, but he lets Jimin hold his hand the rest of the way home.
--
Kim Jihyun doesn’t know what to think of either Jimin or his older brother.
Jimin is an... interesting child. While she leads the other children in alphabet songs, Jimin has his nose stuck in a book way above elementary school level. She has seen him read Charles Dickens, Lady Murasaki, people she’s never even heard of, but all of them thick and intimidating, even for her. She’s encouraged the other children to include Jimin, but he drives them all away some way or another. He’s too clingy, too weird, too much.
It breaks her heart, watching Jimin watch the other kids from a corner of the room with wide eyes filled with a sort of longing, only to return those eyes back to his advanced books.
She wishes she could talk to Jimin’s parents about it, but she’s never met them.
She’s only ever met Seokjin.
He brings Jimin to school at 7:30 every morning and comes at 3:30 PM on the dot every single day to come pick Jimin up. He is the one who attends Jimin’s back to school nights and parent-teacher conferences. When he comes to pick Jimin up, Jimin practically lights up, jumping up and running to meet his brother halfway. Seokjin pushes Jimin away from his attempt at a hug but lets his brother wrap his hand around his. He’ll nod at her and when they turn to leave, she is always struck by how...parental he looks, despite being only a head and shoulders taller than Jimin.
It’s all very bizarre.
(She mentions it to the principal once and he shudders and doesn’t reply.)
“Will your parents be coming?” she asks Jimin every so often when they have a parent event and Jimin blinks at her.
“No. Seokjin-hyung will come.” is always the answer.
She’s only ever asked Seokjin once about it during their first conference.
“...Will your parents be coming?” she asks after she’s waited to speak for ten minutes trying not to cower under Seokjin’s increasingly annoyed stare, because she is confused as to why Seokjin is the only one present when this is supposed to be a parent-teacher conference.
“They will not. Jimin said he had informed you of this. Is that why you’ve been wasting my time?” Seokjin asks, eyes dark and cutting and irritation laced through his tone.
A shudder runs involuntarily up her spine when he leans forward.
“To avoid this idiotic stalling in the future, let’s make a few things clear. You may say any information about Jimin to me, and you should regard me as Jimin’s only parent for any other issues going forward. Do you understand?”
It’s so bizarre, the way she is a hair’s width away from trembling before this...this child. A child with eyes too old and a lifetime’s worth of authority behind his voice, but a child nonetheless.
She does as he says and never asks him again.
--
University is just like everything else in Seokjin’s life. Boring. There are a few moments of interest, when things are going into crisis and people ask Seokjin to come and clean up their mess. He’s rather good at doing that. He barters favors around and around, and now he can stroll into whichever office he wants in the administration hall and know that his words are to be taken as law.
Seokjin checks his phone. A little dot beeps at the location of a crime scene Seokjin heard about this morning.
All is fine.
--
“He’s in the room,” the undergrad tells him nervously and Seokjin dismisses him with a wave of his hand. He takes a moment to open up his brother’s twitter, the top tweet being the newest one of an entire chain of tweets of his brother throwing a virtual tantrum over not getting the highest score in his class. Seokjin, while unamused with any of Jimin’s childish behavior, has to agree that a random nobody shouldn’t be able to match Jimin’s intellect in any capacity.
He steps into the room. It’s bare with only a single fluorescent light above. It’s cliche, to be sure, straight out of cheesy cop shows, but cliche for a reason because it gets the message across much faster to college students who have only ever seen cheesy cop show interrogation rooms. Sitting alone in a chair is a boy named Jung Hoseok. Seokjin fingers the file in his hand and sits down across from him.
“So...what am I here for?” Hoseok asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat, a sure sign of nervousness, but his eyes don’t reflect that. He’s looking around the room in confusion, not for an escape, and Seokjin mentally notes that Jung Hoseok may be a dangerous person.
“You scored a 98 on a cell biology exam,” Seokjin says. Higher than Jimin, which no one has ever done before. Suspicious and thus requires investigation. “You usually score somewhere near the 50s.”
Hoseok shrugs. “Just did what I always do. Rolled my lucky pencil and guessed.” He looks at Seokjin and grins. He has dimples. “Got real lucky this time.”
A lucky pencil. So he’s not a genius; he’s an idiot. Unless he’s just pretending to be an idiot. Seokjin narrows his eyes. Two can play at this game.
“And if I happen to ask the campus security guards for footage of the classroom, would that change your answer?”
Hoseok laughs. “Nope.”
There isn’t a hint of deception in his demeanor. He didn’t call his bluff, just went right along with it. Seokjin leans back, considering. Playing with people is a difficult and intricate game and Seokjin has it perfected to an art.
“Want to get coffee sometime?” Hoseok asks out of the blue and Seokjin’s mind blanks for a split second, all of the strategies and calculations evaporating.
Interesting strategy, he thinks. It did blindside him for a split second, but easy enough to deflect once Seokjin regains his bearings.
“No.”
Hoseok’s smile falters a bit but it’s still there and Seokjin is slightly confused. It’s an unfamiliar emotion and Seokjin purposely keeps his face blank and impassive. “Ah. Too bad.”
He’s an idiot, Seokjin thinks. But he stands by his first assessment. Reckless, illogical, with no sense of danger; Jung Hoseok is a dangerous man.
--
Seokjin very pointedly puts the whole thing out of his mind. Just to be sure, he’d verified with administration when Jung Hoseok would have his next exam and installed a security camera in the classroom. He’d checked it that morning and there he was, rolling his lucky pencil without a care in the world. Seokjin’s lip involuntarily curls and that’s it. The issue of Jung Hoseok can be laid to rest.
Or so he’d thought.
“Seokjin-ssi!”
He stops dead in his tracks, an inborn habit of always stopping when the only person in the world who called Seokjin by his actual name would call it, stumbling after him and trying to hold his hand. But this voice isn’t Jimin’s, and Seokjin only barely contains his surprise and disbelief when Jung fucking Hoseok runs up beside him, lips pulled up in a blinding grin.
“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!”
“...We’re on campus. We both go here.” The words are out before he can take them back.
“Well, it’s still hard to bump into people on accident,” Hoseok says, still smiling. “Have you had lunch yet? Wanna grab a bite?”
Seokjin stares. “What?”
Hoseok’s answering grin is so bright, it blinds him.
--
He was blinded. That’s the only explanation he can think of for why he’s sitting at this cafe with Hoseok, nursing a coffee.
“So what was that all about last week?” Hoseok asks. “My professor hates people who miss class, but when the guy who came to get me mentioned your name, I got pulled out real quick.”
Seokjin sips his coffee. “I have considerable...authority. Amongst the faculty.” He enjoys it. The looks of slight fear the professors have started adopting when he steps into the administrative hall is tangible proof of the power he’s attained and holds.
Hoseok’s eyes grow huge. “You like the shadow boss or something?” Seokjin blinks, taken aback for just a second by the admiration written plain across Hoseok’s face. It’s weird. People don't admire Seokjin, they wonder how he amassed all his power, they wonder if Seokjin will come for them next, they fear him.
Seokjin lets out a soft exhale that he will never categorize as a sigh. “If you want to think of it that way.”
“That’s so cool!”
Pride pools low in his belly and Seokjin hides his pleased smile behind his cup. “Well...I suppose.”
Seokjin doesn’t preen. He doesn’t need to because everyone who interacts with him in any significant way knows who he is and what he can do. He doesn’t need compliments from people who don’t know any better, and he doesn’t feel better about himself when people do. But this could be the closest he’s ever been to doing so.
--
At the end of lunch, Hoseok somehow wrangles Seokjin’s personal number out of him and five weeks later, they’ve had 27 meals together, because without fail Hoseok will text Seokjin to eat together.
Seokjin is not obligated to go to these lunches. It’s just that ignoring or turning down Hoseok’s “Down for lunch?” always seems rather cruel. Seokjin is no stranger to being cruel, but something about Hoseok is magnetic and Seokjin finds himself surprisingly willing to go out of his way to eat with him.
(He’s surprised Hoseok still texts him. Seokjin has gone out to lunch with people before. Rarely do they ask for a second lunch unless it’s a business meeting. Seokjin is too cold, too calculating, too uncomfortable to be around for extended periods of time. Seokjin is okay with this, because that is who he is and he doesn’t want to spend time with people who aren’t capable of handling him.)
He’s learned a lot about Hoseok during the lunches. Hoseok’s a dance major, has an older sister and a dog, dabbles in amateur rap, likes the color green, is scared of heights, roller coasters, horror movies, needles, rats, a plethora of other things, and surprisingly, chickens.
In return, he’s offered up a few things about himself. He has a younger brother, enjoys black coffee, collects expensive fountain pens, and dislikes human beings.
“Even me?” Hoseok asks when he hears the last one. His lips push into an exaggerated pout and Seokjin hums.
“I wouldn’t quite call you a human being,” Seokjin murmurs into his coffee.
Most people would hear that as an insult, but Hoseok’s mouth falls open into an ‘o’ and he grins, a light flush spreading across his face. “Thanks!”
Seokjin can almost feel a similar feeling blooming across his own and he takes more sips of his coffee to hide any evidence of it.
It is, after all, the closest Seokjin has ever come to saying that he likes someone.
--
“--I thought I was gonna die,” Hoseok says, gesticulating wildly and Seokjin feels his lips tug up into an amused smile. “So then I -- “
Seokjin’s phone beeps and Seokjin deftly turns it off. He’d checked Jimin’s location that morning and he’d been in bed. Anything else can wait.
--
Beep.
“Hyung, I need your help. Shit. There’s...shit -- “
Beep.
“Kim Seokjin-ssi? I’m calling to let you know that your brother is currently at our hospital --”
--
Seokjin feels slightly numb as he thanks the doctor.
A cracked rib, internal bleeding in the stomach, a nasty cut on his arm, and more bruises than Seokjin can count. The doctors and nurses had been shocked when a bloody Jimin had dragged himself right to the hospital doors and collapsed.
Jimin looks so tiny amidst the white sheets. Tiny and helpless. It makes Seokjin’s fists clench
His phone buzzes and Seokjin looks at it.
Lunch at the usual place? :D
Seokjin is no stranger to being cruel, but Hoseok is magnetic. Magnetic enough that Seokjin had been pulled into his world and forgotten who is most important. He won’t make that mistake again.
He holds the hand of his unconscious baby brother as tightly as he can as he texts back his reply, and hates the fact that, for the first time, Jimin’s small, stubby fingers don’t grasp back.
Let’s stop meeting.
--
“Hyung will always be there for me?” Jimin asks sleepily as Seokjin closes the book. “Mom and Dad are never here.”
Another princess and dragon story, but those are Jimin’s favorite, and Seokjin has never been able to say no. He wants to. He knows how much Jimin yearns for that kind of unconditional true love that their parents can’t offer. That kind of close intimacy that Seokjin can’t offer. This is what he can offer: protection, vengeance, a distant god that cares for his one charge in the only ways he knows how.
Jimin’s fingers reach out to him and Seokjin indulges him, lets Jimin wrap his hand around his.
“Of course,” Seokjin says, flippantly, because there should never be any doubt. He is Jimin’s big brother, his guardian, and his parent all in one. He is the only one Jimin has. It’s a huge responsibility, and Seokjin has always taken his responsibilities seriously.
“Pinky promise?”
It’s childish and Seokjin usually discourages Jimin’s childishness, but Jimin’s looking up at him with big eyes that look to Seokjin for direction and guidance and salvation. Seokjin can do anything in Jimin’s eyes. Seokjin has yet to disappoint him and it will be a cold day in hell when he does.
Seokjin wraps his pinky around Jimin’s.
“Promise.”
--
It’s been about two weeks since Seokjin’s seen Hoseok, and he hasn’t replied to any of Hoseok’s texts.
Jimin is fine now. He’s been discharged from the hospital and he’s in his apartment, recuperating. Probably sleeping 12 hours a day and eating green tea ice cream for meals. Seokjin needs to drop by later to make sure Jimin’s taken his medicine and gotten some actual food in him. He also needs to finish up some case studies for his professors, return that call from the dean, go over the details of the contract the provost asked him to look over, write up some memos for the board of directors about current projects and future revenue streams, organize the notes for the upcoming meeting with the university officials, and --
Seokjin takes off his glasses and rubs tiredly at his temples.
Even with Jimin’s hospitalization, he’s been just as busy as he’s ever been. But for some reason, everything is more irritating, more tedious, more tiresome. And while Seokjin is not above spinning carefully crafted lies in any situation, he’s always been brutally honest with himself.
And so, he knows that the only thing that’s changed since now and before is Hoseok.
But even if he continues to see Hoseok, even if everything in his life gets a little brighter, a little more bearable, it doesn’t change the fact that Hoseok was the reason he’d been absent when Jimin needed him. It doesn’t change the fact that it could happen again. This time, Jimin had gotten away and gotten himself to help. Next time --
Seokjin clenches his jaw and puts his glasses back on, ignoring the buzz of another text.
There isn’t going to be a next time.
--
The door to his unofficial office in the administrative building flies open, banging against the filing cabinet, and suddenly there’s a Hoseok in his office.
There’s no smile on Hoseok’s face as he stares Seokjin down.
Resisting the urge to rub his temples, Seokjin asks the fluttering, mildly panicking student employee babbling about “sorry sir, he just barged in and I couldn’t stop him” and “please, please don’t fire me and have me expelled” to please leave the room, it’s fine, no you’re not fired but you might be if you don’t leave now.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Seokjin asks dryly after he establishes silence in the room. It’s only 11 in the morning and he’s already itching for a fourth cup of coffee. Hoseok in his office is just the icing on the cake.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Hoseok asks.
Seokjin pauses, wondering what kind of answer Hoseok expects, then laughs internally to himself. This is just like the first time he’d met Hoseok, thinking that Hoseok was here to play mind games with him when all Hoseok is is blunt honesty.
“I realized that our...acquaintance was distracting me from more important matters in my life, and so I decided to terminate it,” Seokjin says after a moment.
Hoseok’s brow furrows as he processes the sentence. Seokjin hates people for exactly this reason. Because they’re so slow and dull and yet, somehow, Hoseok is still one of the most fascinating people he’s ever met.
Seokjin closes his eyes at the image of Jimin lying in the hospital bed.
Fascinating and dangerous. His first impression hadn’t been wrong.
Seokjin is prepared for any number of responses.
I don’t understand.
Why?
I won’t accept this.
Okay.
You’re really as cold and mean as everyone says you are.
I hate you.
“Is this about your brother?” Hoseok asks quietly and Seokjin’s eyes fly open. “You always talk about him,” Hoseok continues. “I don’t even think you realize it. Everything I know about you has something to do with your brother. You started drinking black coffee because you needed to wake up early to get your brother to school, your brother bought you a fountain pen as a gift and now you collect them, you think most people are exceptionally dull so thank god your brother isn’t one of them.” Hoseok shakes his head.
“What are you trying to say?” Seokjin keeps his voice deliberately even.
“People can’t live like that,” Hoseok says. “You can’t live your life for someone else and expect to find happiness.”
Seokjin scoffs. “Watch me.”
“I am,” Hoseok says, almost sadly. “And you’re not. Happy, that is.”
“What would you know?” Seokjin sneers, eyes flashing. Seokjin’s anger is cold and dismissive, but when it starts running hot like this, even Jimin at his most childish and stubborn will listen to Seokjin.
Hoseok doesn’t back down.
“I’ve been there,” Hoseok says and his eyes are arrows that bore almost angrily into Seokjin. “I lived my life for my mother my entire life up until last year. I was a business major and all I did was study and get good grades. And for what? I was miserable and hated everybody. And one day I woke up, said ‘fuck it’, and switched my major to dance. I started not studying and rolling my lucky pencil instead. And now I’m so much happier than I was before. Because I’m living for myself.”
Seokjin laughs and it’s cruel. “So what? Are you proud? That you’ve disappointed someone who loves you?”
“I disappointed my mom,” Hoseok says. “But I stopped disappointing myself. And in the end, my mom came around. Because she loves me. Your brother wouldn’t do that for you? Let you be happy?”
“Don’t,” Seokjin says darkly, “presume to know what my brother does or does not want for me.”
Seokjin remembers waking up at 6:30 in the morning, remembers wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, to pretend his brother doesn’t need him, doesn’t exist, and then peeling the covers away and getting up. Making breakfast. Waking his brother and combing his hair. Watching him smile at Seokjin, skin still warm with sleep. This is what gives Seokjin purpose. Who is Seokjin without Jimin? Who is a god without a believer?
Hoseok’s staring at him. Seokjin stares back. It's a standoff and the air practically crackles with tension. His headache pounds behind his eyes. Every second feels like an eternity.
“If your brother doesn't want you to find happiness outside of taking care of him, he's not a brother worth taking care of.”
With that, Hoseok leaves and Seokjin finally closes his eyes, slumping into his chair.
--
At around four, he’s not done, but he’s done. His once headache is now a full on migraine and Seokjin is halfway through the motions of shoving everything off his desk until he realizes how out of character that would be for him and painstakingly puts everything back into neat piles.
He needs air. He needs space. He needs… Seokjin glances at his phone. It’s been silent all day compared to the bombardment of the past few.
“I need to go check on Jimin,” he mutters to himself and this is the first time Seokjin’s lied to himself so blatantly.
--
Jimin looks up from his microscope when Seokjin walks in.
“Hyung,” he blinks. There’s a split second before he grabs the half-eaten bowl of green tea ice cream that Seokjin has already seen and tries to hide it under the table. The floor is so messy he might not have seen it if Jimin had done it faster. “Um…”
“I saw it already,” Seokjin says. “You need to eat real food.” He heads to the kitchen to start unloading the takeout he’s brought. Usually he’ll bring groceries and cook himself but Seokjin --
“Are you okay?”
Seokjin blinks. Slowly, he turns around. Jimin’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen, blanket draped around his shoulders in a cape like he’s still five years old.
All of a sudden he wants to scream. Of course he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be? Just because fucking Jung Hoseok isn’t around anymore and thinks Seokjin isn’t fine means he isn’t? What does Jung Hoseok know about Seokjin? What does he know that Seokjin doesn’t? The audacity of him to think he knows what Seokjin should or shouldn’t fucking do -- The frustrated scream wells up in him and Seokjin feels like his chest is about to burst with the magnitude of it.
Jimin blinks at him, genuine concern glimmering in his eyes.
Seokjin slams down on the feeling with all the force of the iron will he spent his entire childhood cultivating.
“Why would you say that?” he says instead, voice calm, motions robotic as he unpackages the takeout boxes.
“...I’m surprised you can’t tell for yourself,” Jimin says carefully when the question doesn’t appear rhetorical. “Your shoulders are tense, your usually immaculate hair looks slightly unkempt -- did you maybe pull on it? -- , you’re here at 4 when you never leave your office until at least 10 if you can help it, and you brought takeout.”
“What’s wrong with takeout,” Seokjin asks flatly even though he already knows the answer.
“You always cook,” Jimin says. “You don’t tell anyone, but that’s your favorite thing to do.”
Seokjin closes his eyes. “Jimin -- “
He’s cut off by his baby brother crashing into him with a hug. “You can tell me what’s wrong,” Jimin says quietly into Seokjin’s shoulder and Seokjin exhales.
“Jimin -- “
“Or I can find this Jung Hoseok whose text messages you’ve been ignoring and find out from him.”
Typical of Jimin to have stolen his phone out of his back pocket with the pretense of a hug.
“I can handle it,” Seokjin says pushing Jimin away and deftly plucking his phone back from Jimin’s hands. “Let’s eat.”
In hindsight, Seokjin can’t believe he’d thought Jimin would let it go.
--
“Out. Just. Get out,” Seokjin says through gritted teeth as his phone rings and the assistant dean scampers out the door with a squeak. Seokjin lets the ringing fill the silence of the room as he concentrates on calming down and removing the hand that’s pulling at his hair.
Taking a deep breath, he answers it, his tone perfectly even. “What, Jimin.”
I need you to come over for a little bit. His brother’s tone is cheerful, so it’s not anything serious.
“I’m busy,” Seokjin says, a little more curtly than he means.
You sound stressed, Jimin says, unruffled. This’ll help. The university can run itself for a few hours.
Not with the level of incompetence Seokjin sees on an hourly basis. But Jimin has a point. If Seokjin stays, he’s going to kill someone or kill himself and neither would have positive outcomes.
“I’ll come over,” Seokjin sighs.
See you~, Jimin trills before he hangs up.
--
The minute he turns his key in the lock, the door flies open and he’s yanked inside to be faced with a rare, serious Jimin.
“Hyung, I love you and this is for your own good.” Jimin says and then he’s gone without any further explanation.
He realizes that he doesn’t need one when Hoseok materializes from inside the apartment.
“Seokjin-hyung.”
Seokjin keeps his face impassive even as his heart jumps at seeing Hoseok again. Traitorous thing. “Hoseok.”
The look on Hoseok’s face is uncertain. He worries at his lip a little. “I heard...you’ve been having a rough time.”
“Merely some problems at work I’m handling,” Seokjin says, because weakness is not to be shared.
Hoseok’s face falls slightly. “Ah…”
The silence stretches between them.
“I’ve...I haven’t been having the greatest time,” Hoseok says eventually. He shuffles his feet a little and lets out a short, deprecating laugh. “I told you all this stuff about being happy for yourself and not others and then when I don’t see you for a few days…” Hoseok scrubs a hand across his face. “Fuck.”
Sharing weaknesses is a foolish move used by the weak and naive to gain sympathy and invite exploitation.
And yet here is Hoseok, offering himself and his vulnerabilities up to Seokjin who is not a sympathetic man and has a history of exploiting others for his own gain.
Had this been anyone else, Seokjin would have laughed in their face. Had this been anyone else, Seokjin would have done so and laughed harder as they walked away, but if Jung Hoseok walks away, Seokjin...
Hoseok looks nervously at him, ready for the ridicule, ready to walk away and Seokjin must be head over heels in love with him, he realizes, to be even contemplating what he’s about to do let alone doing it.
Seokjin swallows then exhales. His fingers clench uselessly against his sides in a rare show of nervousness. His mouth feels dry.
“I… may have had a rougher time than usual...due in part to your...absence.”
Admitting even this, that Seokjin is...dependent on someone’s presence to function at his best, makes Seokjin want to immediately leave and deny this ever happened.
In fact, he might do just that. His confession, even if caught on tape, isn’t that vulnerable, he tells himself and nobody who hears that will understand just how much Seokjin has bared himself anyways. Hoseok has every right to hear that as a rejection and Seokjin’s mind is racing through all the ways he knows he’s fucked this up even as he’s thinking of ways to forget this moment.
He’s about to make his escape but before he can, Hoseok’s lighting up and flinging himself towards him and Seokjin has no choice but to halt his plans and catch him. Although, he miscalculates the force of Hoseok’s leap and they both come crashing down to the floor.
Ah, Seokjin thinks, chest filling with warmth. Because Hoseok’s the first to ever really understand who Seokjin is and what he means when he speaks.
“I didn’t actually think you’d catch me,” Hoseok mumbles into Seokjin’s shoulder from where his face is smushed.
“I don’t think I actually did,” Seokjin says, only a little winded from Hoseok’s weight.
Hoseok laughs and makes no move to get up. Seokjin doesn’t laugh but also makes no move to push him off.
(Hoseok smiles to himself. Seokjin is a man of action, not words, and that’s fine by Hoseok who has enough words for both of them.)
They lay there for a few minutes in silence, Hoseok drawing idle little circles on Seokjin’s arm for some reason.
“I’m sorry,” Hoseok eventually says, breaking the silence. Seokjin makes a little hum of questioning. “Your brother means the world to you and that’s not the same as my situation. And I was wrong about your brother not caring about you. I... shouldn’t have tried to judge or lecture you on it when I didn't understand.” Hoseok stops drawing the circles and Seokjin, absurdly, misses them.
Seokjin takes a deep breath and Hoseok somewhat tenses above him. Seokjin searches for the best way to express what he wants to say, to make it nicer and sugarcoated and easier to hear, but ultimately decides to trust that Hoseok will understand him the way he always does.
Still, he lifts a hand to cup the back of Hoseok’s head, keeping him there to listen until the very end. Inexplicably, Hoseok relaxes at the touch.
“I don’t think I could ever put you above my brother...but you rank similarly.”
There's a moment as Hoseok processes and Seokjin waits in anticipation of responses he'll have to field.
What does that mean?
So you don't care for me?
You're so cold.
I'm leaving.
"I love you too, hyung," Hoseok says and Seokjin blinks in surprise before letting out a huff of disbelief. Jung Hoseok. Would he never cease to amaze?
(Seokjin doesn't say the words back and Hoseok doesn't expect him to. And he doesn't need him to. Not when Seokjin turns his head and presses the tiniest of kisses to Hoseok's neck. His very own man of action.)
--
“Are you mad at me?”
Seokjin looks up to see Jimin peeking around the door frame and raises an eyebrow.
“Even though I didn’t do anything wrong,” Jimin says mulishly even though his eyes look nervous.
“I’m not,” Seokjin says. His phone buzzes with a text from Hoseok and Seokjin can’t quite hide the smile. “I should probably be thanking you, actually.”
“It’s so weird seeing you smile,” Jimin mutters to himself. He looks up at Seokjin hesitantly under his bangs and Seokjin sighs and pats the couch next to him. Jimin launches himself over and Seokjin wraps an arm around his brother. “You should do it more often, though. Smiling,” Jimin says, burying his face in Seokjin’s sweater.
“Maybe,” Seokjin hums.
“He really likes you,” Jimin murmurs. “I hope I find someone like that one day.”
“You will,” Seokjin says, carding a hand through his brother’s messy hair.
“Even though I’m weird and clingy and annoying?” Jimin seems to curl up on himself and Seokjin frowns,
“If I can find someone, you definitely can.” Seokjin can already somewhat imagine it. Someone who looks at Jimin just as fondly as Seokjin does sometimes when no one is looking, someone who will read all the stories about dragons and princesses that Jimin wants, who will pull him close and wipe his tears and hold his hand. Someone who will love Jimin just the way he is.
Jimin deserves nothing less.
He checks the text.
Lunch? ^^ <3
Yes.