Archive of Our Own

i.

I remember that moment

Way taller than my height

The brown piano that guided me

I looked up to you, I yearned for you

When I touched you with my small finger

“I can’t believe I’m here.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and pulled his luggage towards the train station’s third exit, trying his best to ignore his companion’s frustrated sighs and grunts behind him. The afternoon air of Busan was crisp at this time of the year, crystal smoke whirling in his every breath, and tiny goosebumps peppering his pale skin as the cool breeze breached through the sleeves of his black wool coat.

Waiting on the sidewalk for a taxi to arrive, Yoongi heard his friend’s heavy sigh as he stood beside him, eyebrows furrowed and arms folded over his chest. “Hyung, I can’t believe it. I am here. In fucking Busan.With you.”

Yoongi lifted his leg and kicked the back of Hoseok’s knees, causing the supervisor to utter a startled yelp and lose his balance. “Can you stop talking for a second?” Yoongi chided him. “My ears are already bleeding because of your whiny ass.”

Dusting off his brown coat, Hoseok huffed. “It’s your fault we’re here in the first place. Why do I have to be on probation as well?”

“You’re not. You’re here to supervise me.” Yoongi stretched his hand to call for the approaching taxi.

“What’s the difference? We’ve been thrown out of Seoul because of your rebellious temperament.”

Sighing as the taxi halted in front of them, Yoongi and Hoseok and opened the trunk of the vehicle and threw their luggage inside. “Look. I already said sorry to you like fifty times.”

The supervisor snorted. “Well, you should’ve said that to the CEO’s cousin three seconds after you disrespected him.”

Both men sat on the backseat, with Hoseok giving the driver the address of their shared apartment located near the Haeundae beach, the one which the company chose for them due to its proximity to the recording company where both of them would be stationed for six months.

“I don’t regret what I said.” A tight crease appeared between the producer’s brows. “That homophobic bastard deserved every word I spat at him.”

Hoseok let out a defeated sigh before he turned his head towards the window, knowing a lost battle when he saw one. “Well, now that I’m here, at least I’ll get to see my sister and her family.”

Yoongi was a music producer at Golden Disc Recording Company in Seoul. After Hoseok sent a letter of recommendation for him to the management, Yoongi was able to secure the spot. He had good credentials, being able to graduate from one of the most prestigious music schools in Seoul, maintaining a scholarship all throughout his student years and gaining experience in music production for two years at a Hollywood label.

People said that he was a quiet one, an emotionless and stoic excuse for a human being. He was just like everybody else though. Because once things became too much, he couldn’t help but let his mouth run. And that was how he’d gotten him and Hoseok into this mess.

The CEO’s cousin, Kang Hyeseon, was the director of the arts in his recording company. During his time in the company, Yoongi had kept a blind eye to his prideful and derogatory remarks. But when he purposefully called out Jungkook, a singer in their label and Yoongi’s dear friend and dongsaeng, for a small mistake he made and referred to him as a ‘talentless faggot’ in front of the production team, that was the time when Yoongi stood up from his leather chair and threw a punch towards the director’s face. He spouted insults and hurtful truths at the man’s shocked face. People tried to stop him, of course, but he just couldn’t stand it when his friends were insulted, especially when the insult was utterly demeaning.

Sighing and turning his face towards the window as well, Yoongi reminded himself that he was one lucky bastard to be on probation instead of getting his ass kicked out of the company. Several of his co-workers submitted anonymous letters to the HR against the director to help him, and with the investigation proving the man’s vile action towards Jungkook, the CEO couldn’t do anything but suspend his own cousin for the sake of ‘justice’ and ‘camaraderie’ with his employees.

Yoongi wasn’t the best out there; he knew that perfectly well. But he strived to get to where he was now. Every success, every failure, he earned each and every one of them. While doing several part-time jobs to pay the bills, his student life was mostly composed of shoving his nose into music books, attending boring classes, and passing examinations. It wasn’t until his last year of college that he was able to produce his own music as a final requirement for his degree. After getting that much-awaited diploma, Yoongi practically busied himself with work. It felt fulfilling though, doing what he loved most. And the years went by in a flash before he could even take his time to breathe and fix his eyes to the forms of life around him.

After ten long years, he was finally back here in Busan–his hometown. The place which cradled his home, his childhood memories, and his past.

It hadn’t changed much throughout the years: the tall buildings and skyscrapers stretching out into the sky as if wanting to touch the heavens above; the long stretches of roads and bridges which didn’t seem to end, and the faint salty breeze of the ocean wafting in the air even if he was still in the midst of a bustling city.

Even if Yoongi didn’t want to think about it, now that he was home after all these years, he could feel a sense of calm and belonging to this place which thousands of lights and lively nights in Seoul could never replace. The scenery was different. The air was different. And that was what Yoongi’s heart had secretly longed for these past several years.

After getting into their apartment and dropping the luggage in the living room, Yoongi took off his coat and turned on the heater, letting the supervisor decide first which room he wanted to be in. “Hyung, do you mind if I take the room next to the bathroom? I always take a piss at night.”

Yoongi snorted and waved his hand dismissively, signaling for the younger to do whatever he wanted. There were sealed brown boxes in the living room, the ones containing their belongings which had been shipped to the apartment prior to their arrival. Unboxing one of them, Yoongi took out his keyboard and made his way towards his own room, the one situated behind the kitchen, with a large window overlooking the sea.

He sighed and closed the curtains for some sort of privacy, flicking the switch of the wall lamp on and placing the musical keyboard on top of an oak desk. Yoongi’s hands ghosted over the black and white keys, fingertips brushing against the cold hard plastic and making Yoongi’s skin hum with delight. He had always loved playing the piano, hearing its soft and wonderful melodies, ones that could turn instantly into tempestuous and vengeful notes, where each smash of keys represented a form of emotion, a form of liberation.

And for a moment, he remembered the reason why he’d started composing in the first place; why his heart began yearning for an almost insurmountable dream of letting the world hear his music.

In the corner of his faintest memories lay a brown piano. He couldn’t remember how it sounded, how its keys felt against his pads as his small fingers pressed down on them curiously and warily, his heart racing inside his chest as the first note sounded along the walls of his childhood home.

“Do you play?”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open, breath hitching in his throat as a familiar small voice echoed inside his head, one which hadn’t crossed his mind and dreams over the years.

There was a boy. A boy whom he loved so dearly. Someone he considered a close friend and younger brother.

He was standing beside the piano, brown hair and slanted mahogany eyes staring at Yoongi for the first time. His skin was sun-kissed, his lips plump and rosy, his cheeks full and dusted with the prettiest shade of pink Yoongi had ever seen. There was a friendly smile on his face, one that was as bright as the sun, one that pinched the corners of his eyes and made them disappear into tiny crescents.

There was a boy.

And Yoongi had forgotten all about him.

ii.

The awkwardness was only for a moment,

I touched you again

Even though I was gone for a long time

Without repulsion

You accepted me

Yoongi’s first day at work, if he were to say, was exhausting.

He wasn’t one of those energetic newcomers who had dazzling smiles and upbeat personalities. He was a man of few words, a socially awkward penguin who was terrible at making friends. Fortunately, Hoseok was with him. His supervisor did the talking and introductions for the both of them, Yoongi standing beside him and trying his hardest to plaster the least awkward smile that he could muster in that moment.

The employees were welcoming to them, especially that one producer named Kim Namjoon whom Yoongi had produced a few tracks with two years ago. Namjoon never told him where he worked, and it wasn’t that Yoongi actually cared. The guy was great at producing and that was all that mattered to Yoongi when he collaborated with someone. Well, the attitude too, of course.

They’d lost contact after that, but Yoongi somehow thought that he had managed to foster some form of friendship with Namjoon before they’d parted ways two years ago. Now that they were reunited, with Namjoon hugging him tightly and smiling at him like he was fucking happy to see him again, Yoongi thought that, maybe, he was actually friends with Namjoon.

They met Jin after that–the most esteemed vocal instructor in the company.He was a tall and broad-shouldered guy, well, not as tall as Namjoon, but definitely taller than Yoongi and it irked him that everyone around him seemed to be inches taller than him. He was almost thirty, for fuck’s sake.

“Okay.” Jin stood on top of a plastic chair and placed his hands on his hips, catching the attention of all the people in the room. “Since we have two newcomers here, who wants to get drunk with me tonight?”

The employees hollered and clapped their hands excitedly. Yoongi winced. He was not good at parties.

“Can I pass?”

“‘Course you can’t, hyung.” Namjoon hooked an arm around his neck, smirking. “What’s the point of a drinking party if the guests of honor are not there, right, Hoseok-ssi?”

Hoseok snickered. “Damn right. And oh, you can call me Hobi.”

Namjoon smiled and nodded. “Call me Joon, then. We’re born in the same year after all.”

It was half past seven in the evening when they arrived at a local bar a few blocks away from the recording company. From the way Jin, Namjoon, and the other employees greeted the old lady standing by the reception desk, Yoongi could tell that they were perhaps regulars in this establishment. Foods and mugs of beer were passed across the tables. It was fortunate that they rented a room for their gathering, because as the night went deeper, his drunk co-workers became more and more shameless as they half-sang, half-screeched on the microphone of the karaoke machine.

Hoseok had his tie knotted around his forehead as he danced and sang to Wonder Girls’ Nobody. Yoongi groaned. It would be a pain in the neck to haul his friend’s drunk ass home.

Namjoon was dancing with Hoseok, if it was even called a dance. He was wiggling his long limbs like a fucking spider to the point that it physically hurt Yoongi’s eyes to watch him. Jin was sitting in front of them, phone held in his hands as he guffawed and captured a shaky video of the two dumbheads living the best of their lives in front of their colleagues.

Yoongi had drunk a little bit more than he intended to and it was already getting quite hot in the room. Loosening the navy blue tie around his neck and unbuttoning two buttons of his white long sleeve polo, Yoongi stood up from the cushion pillow and went down the mat, feet instantly finding his polished black shoes and making his way towards the reception desk.

“Hi, um, do you have a smoking area?” he asked.

“Turn right at this hallway and then you’ll find the back door.”

“Thanks.”

Yoongi did as he was told and, once out of the bar, Yoongi was met by the crisp wind of the night and he took a moment to inhale the fresh air of his hometown. The back alley was dim, with the small LED signboard of the bar affixed to the wall near the door as the sole source of illumination. The main street was a few meters away, and Yoongi was glad that the sound of vehicles running along the road was faint to his ears. The silence was welcoming and his best friend. There was just something about the solace of the night that always comforted Yoongi.

Fishing for a light and stick in his pants’ pocket, Yoongi let the cigarette dangle between his lips as he flicked the lighter on. The first drag was intoxicating and he let the smoke run inside his lungs, holding it as long as he could before letting it out of his mouth. Yoongi closed his eyes as the nicotine soothed his nerves and relaxed his muscles. He wasn’t a heavy smoker, but he did smoke, once in a while.

He was halfway through the stick when he heard a clanging sound to his right. Yoongi jumped slightly on his feet and cussed. “What the fu–” Yoongi narrowed his eyes to make out the shadow of a person. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight as he walked towards the source of that loud noise.

There, seated on the large back alley bin was a boy wearing a thick dark hoodie and a red-and-gray ear flap hat. His light brown hair was peeking out from underneath the hat, his brown eyes wide and plump lips circled into an ‘oh’ when Yoongi directed the light to his face.

There were cats, maybe six or seven, which were eating on a plastic container below the boy’s dangling feet, with two of them resting on his thighs and purring as he ran his fingers through their fur.

For a moment, the situation befuddled Yoongi. What was a teenage boy doing here in the back alley of a bar at the middle of the night?

“Kid,” Yoongi began. “Are you sure you should still be loitering around at this time of night? Your parents might be looking for you.”

However, the boy didn’t respond and just remained looking at Yoongi with wide eyes. And when Yoongi was about to turn away, he heard him say, “Hyung?”

Yoongi’s fingers around the cigarette flinched. That voice. That soft–fucking–honey voice.

Walking a bit closer to cast the shadows away with his phone, Yoongi’s heart almost dropped from his chest when he saw the boy, no, the young man’s features clearly from this distance.

It was as if the memories of his past had haunted him all over again. It made his head spin, the way that Yoongi’s skin tingled with familiarity when the man smiled brightly and jumped off the bin just to throw himself at Yoongi. “Hyung,” the other said as he wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck. “Is it really you?”

After being stunned for a couple of moments, Yoongi placed a hand on the man’s back and patted him through his hoodie. “Ya, Jimin, you’re choking me.”

Giggling as he pulled away, Jimin continued to stare at Yoongi’s eyes with barely restrained excitement. “I’m so glad you came back. It’s been years.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi took out his pocket ashtray and killed the stick. “I’m going to be here for six months and then go back to Seoul.”

Yoongi didn’t know if he’d noticed right, but it was as if the smile on Jimin’s face faltered a little after he spoke. “Oh,” the younger said and put his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie jacket. “I see that you didn’t stop smoking after high school, huh?”

“Hm,” Yoongi hummed in agreement.

A moment of silence dawned between them when Jimin’s gaze landed back on the cats feeding near the bin. Yoongi shifted awkwardly on his feet and attempted to push down the bubble of emotions and memories trying to engulf his whole chest. There was just… so much history he’d shared with Jimin when they were kids: good ol’ childhood friends who spent their early days together and grew apart as life pulled them towards different roads.

That was just how everything was. Nothing was permanent in this world except change. Yoongi grew up, found life elsewhere, and that was that. For Yoongi, life was too short to remain stagnant in one place. He had his dream and he followed it, no matter how far it was, or no matter how impossible it seemed. But now, here he was, walking down the path he had created himself.

“What are you doing here, Jimin?”

Jimin turned his head around to look back at him. “I had overtime at work. And as I was going home, I found these hungry cats so I gave them my dinner.”

“You did?” Yoongi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Jimin smiled as if what he did was as natural as breathing. “How about you? What are you doing here?”

“Uh–” Yoongi rubbed a hand on his nape. “–The employees threw a party for me and my friend’s transfer to their company. It’s getting a bit rowdy inside so I decided to go out for some fresh air.”

At that, Jimin chuckled and Yoongi’s stubborn heart faltered. “You’ve always been bad at parties, hyung. Too noisy for your taste.”

The producer snorted lightly. “Damn right.”

Jimin licked his bottom lip. “I wonder when was the last time these strays have properly eaten.”

Yoongi thought for a moment that something had changed with Jimin. His face was still youthful, like he hadn’t aged at all after Yoongi left for college. But somehow, something had changed. Jimin now had this air of maturity around him, had this calm look in his eyes as if he was not looking at what was in front of him but instead far and wide into the future.

“They’re strays. They eat whatever they want,” said Yoongi. “They’ll survive.”

Jimin hummed. “Perhaps. But it doesn’t mean that we can’t give them a proper meal. Everyone deserves it, even cats.”

Yoongi didn’t know how to respond to that. He had never been an animal person, unlike Jimin. The younger had always been an enthusiast with them, especially cats and dogs. He remembered that there was one time when Jimin had a pet cat when he was nine and Yoongi was eleven. When it died, Jimin ran to Yoongi’s house with the lifeless cat inside his arms, crying to Yoongi and asking him to help him wake it up. Being the older of the two, Yoongi explained to him that his pet had gone to heaven and was now playing happily with the other cats in the clouds. They buried the cat in the town playground, near a willow tree and carved the pet’s name on the trunk to remember the place where it was buried. So-Hui, it read.

“I have to go now, hyung.” Jimin flashed him a smile. “It’s nice seeing you. You’ve finally achieved your dream, right? Good luck on your career.”

“Um…” Yoongi wondered if there was something wrong with what Jimin said. Because right now, there was this uneasy feeling in his gut telling him to brush off the younger’s goodbye and keep him in his company for a while longer. “…Okay.”

Yoongi should ask for his phone number.

The soles of Jimin’s rubber shoes thudded against the cemented floor. There was slight panic rising inside Yoongi’s system as the younger’s figure slowly became smaller and moved farther away from him. Shit. He should really ask for Jimin’s phone number. It had been years and this was the first time that Yoongi had heard from him after so long.

“Ji–”

“I like you, hyung.”

Yoongi’s feet halted as a voice echoed from his distant memory, sounding like cascades falling from floating islands in the sky. When he’d first heard that, he’d felt like flying. He’d felt wings unfurling from his back, white and glowing, but Yoongi never left the ground. He’d opted not to. And he’d shut that voice out and caged it inside the darkest cave of his heart–never to see the warmth of day ever again. And yet it was still there. In his heart. It never left, even if Yoongi wanted it to.

Jimin disappeared into the night, and Yoongi let him go.

Just like how he had ten years ago.

iii.

The corner of my memory

A brown piano settled on one side

In the corner of my childhood house

A brown piano settled on one side

Min Yoongi, 7 years old.

Standing by the side of his mother, small hand clutched in her floral blue dress, Yoongi watched with wide eyes as men walked inside their house, carrying with them a brown piano which, his mother told him, was bought by his father for his seventh birthday.

“Thank you so much for delivering it.” His father shook the hand of a man who was probably the same age as him.

“No problem,” the other said, smiling. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

His mother nudged him closer to the piano placed in one corner of their living room, near the glass door and overlooking the small yard. As she opened the polished fallboard, Yoongi’s eyes sparkled when he saw the white and black keys of the piano. “Isn’t the piano beautiful, Yoongi-yah?” she asked.

Yoongi nodded his head and pressed a little finger on a white key, the high-pitched sound echoing inside their home like an orchestra of dreams, resonating inside Yoongi’s chest and burying deep into his heart. The sound was beautiful, and the seven-year-old boy found himself thoroughly captivated.

Climbing up on the piano bench with his little legs dangling above the floor, Yoongi pressed random keys on the instrument and smiled at the beautiful sound they emitted. He wanted to learn how to play. He really, really wanted to.

“Do you play?”

Yoongi gasped and threw his gaze towards the direction of that voice. Standing beside the piano, with his small fingers gripping the instrument’s cheek near the keys, was a boy with fluffy brown hair and round flushed cheeks. The smile he was wearing was friendly–pretty–and Yoongi felt shy under the other’s bright demeanor.

Yoongi shook his head.

“You should!” the boy cheered him on. “You’re the new kid, right? I’m Park Jimin.” The boy, Jimin, stretched out his arm for a handshake. Yoongi’s cheeks blushed bashfully as he hesitated. “Ya.” Jimin pouted adorably, his plump lips rosy and full. “My dad said to always return a handshake. Shake my hand!”

Albeit reluctantly, Yoongi gripped the boy’s soft, little hand, mumbling his name in return and felt the other squeeze his hand before beaming into a wide smile.

“I’m five years old!”

“I’m seven,” Yoongi replied.

“Oh! You’re my hyung!” Jimin climbed on top of the piano bench and sat beside Yoongi, his legs dangling, a little bit shorter than his, that same bright smile lighting up his features in the most adorable and beautiful way.

Jimin said, “Nice to meet you, Yoongi-hyung!”

iv.

I played the piano wherever my hands took me

I didn’t know your significance back then

Back then I was content with just looking at you

The thing was, it was twelve damn o’clock in the afternoon and it was Yoongi’s much awaited lunch break. Yet here he was, standing in front of a kindergarten classroom with Hoseok, waiting for his adorable four-year-old niece, Chan Hee, to come out from her class. Hoseok had forgotten his driver’s license in Seoul, something which Yoongi had given him hell for, but Yoongi was soft for his friend alright. His conscience wouldn’t let him and his niece take the bus to his sister’s house, especially when Hoseok begged him to drive them both home.

The recording company had given him and Hoseok a shared service car. It was nothing grand, but Yoongi was still thankful for it. He wouldn’t have to take trains everytime he went to work.

Hoseok’s sister had requested this favor from him, to pick up Chan Hee from school, for she and her husband wouldn’t make it on time due to work. Even though Yoongi had been dragged by his friend and lost the chance to take a nap in his precious lunch break, it didn’t really matter, especially when the little girl squealed and jumped into Hoseok’s arms when she saw her dear uncle.

“Uncle! Uncle! Let’s get ice cream!” she exclaimed with sparkling eyes.

“Of course! Anything for my lovely Chan Hee.”

Yoongi snorted. His friend was a whipped man.

“Yoongi-oppa!” She smiled widely, round rosy cheeks curving her eyes into little crescents. “Hello!”

Yoongi flashed a smile. “Hi there, little miss.” Well, maybe he was a little bit whipped, too.

“Chan Hee-yah! You forgot your lunch box!” called a voice, suddenly, from the classroom’s doorway.

People might say that it was destiny, and maybe it was. But Yoongi didn’t believe in cosmos and stars aligning. He was a man of reality.

Buta bunch of his belief was now personified in the form of brown locks and mahogany eyes, of plump lips and high cheeks, peeking through the door of a fucking kindergarten classroom.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

The producer stammered out. “Jimin? Wha–?”

“Mr. Park!” Chan Hee jumped and grabbed her pink lunch box from Jimin’s loosening hold. “Thank you!”

As if jerked from a daze, Jimin averted his eyes from Yoongi and shook his head briefly before letting out a bright smile to the little girl. “You’re welcome. Do not forget your things again, okay, Chan Hee-yah?”

“Hn!” Chan Hee walked beside Hoseok and gripped his hand.

“Hyung, do you know Chan Hee’s teacher?” asked Hoseok.

“Yeah,” Yoongi answered after having a minute to compose himself. “He’s my childhood friend.”

Jimin smiled at Hoseok and bowed politely. “I’m Park Jimin. It’s nice to meet you. Are you Yoongi-hyung’s friend?”

“Yes.” Hoseok smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Jung Hoseok. But you can call me Hobi. It’s nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi.”

“Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin’s eyes shifted back to Yoongi and the elder’s chest suddenly felt full. “Do you have work today, hyung?”

“Uh, yeah.” Yoongi rubbed a hand behind his neck. “I drove for Hobi and Chan Hee. I’ll be at work until five.”

Jimin hummed and nodded. “Then I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Good luck with work, hyung.”

Hoseok and Chan Hee were now walking along the hallway towards the exit, while Jimin was turning around and reaching for the classroom door. Yoongi once again felt that familiar rise of panic in his chest, as if there was a caged beast inside him, clawing at his chest walls. He was a man of instinct, and that was how he managed to open his mouth and let the words out before his brain could even catch up.

“Can I have your number?”

Jimin’s hand paused halfway to the knob.

Yoongi’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He wanted to perish.

“What?” Jimin asked after looking over his shoulder at Yoongi, wide-eyed.

There was a nauseating sensation coiling inside Yoongi’s gut and he wanted nothing but to run far away that instant. “I-I mean, um, if… if it’s okay. Can I–” He pulled his phone out from his pants’ pocket. “–Have your number?”

Silence.

Jimin remained looking at his phone wordlessly as if it was the most confusing thing he’d ever seen. Yoongi felt his palm sweating and he wanted to kick his own ass for appearing like a total idiot in front of his childhood friend. “Uh, sorry, I’ll just–”

Yoongi was just about to pull his phone away when Jimin’s hand suddenly darted out and gripped the device. Yoongi tried not to think about how warm and soft Jimin’s fingers were against his skin, tried not to mind the bashful tint of pink dusting the younger’s cheeks as he took the phone and clamped his teeth on his bottom lip.

“Okay.” That was all Jimin had said before he began typing his number on the screen. After that, he gave the phone back to Yoongi and smiled sheepishly. “There.”

Yoongi nodded and stared down at his phone where the name ‘Park Jimin’ was saved in his contacts. “Thanks. Um, I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Jimin’s smile widened, all teeth and glowing. “I’ll see you around, hyung.”

Back then, Yoongi had always caught himself staring at Jimin’s face. He blamed it on the fact that the younger’s facial features were beautiful, that they were art and must be appreciated. Perhaps, Jimin was art. That was why Yoongi had always thought that Jimin’s smiles were worth a thousand photographs.

Ten years ago, he was content with that, seeing Jimin smile and laugh brightly beside him. Jimin was a walking daydream and Yoongi was frightened to let himself be lost in the clouds. He was like a younger brother to him, the closest to family he’d ever have. There were lines and boundaries, ones which both of them had crossed a few times because of the rush of their youth. That time, they were young, invincible and curious. Yoongi had touched, but never let his fingers linger.

He never let those things burden him, had kept them tucked in the deepest corner of his memories when he decided to spread his wings and follow his dreams. When he shoved his past behind for the sake of finding a new life.

But years after that, when Yoongi was a little bit stronger, perhaps a tad wiser, he’d thought that maybe there was something more beyond those clouds, something precious beyond those lines. That if only he willed himself to look closer, to touch longer, then he would see it. Would even feel it.

Properly this time.

v.

I remember back then

We burned up the last of my ‘teens

Yes, the days when we couldn’t see an inch in front of us

We laughed, we cried

Those days with you, those moments are now in memories

“You never mentioned Jimin to me before.”

Yoongi’s finger paused from clicking the mouse of his computer in the studio. Hoseok was lying on the black couch behind him, one leg bent to let the papers he was currently reading rest on his thigh. It was past six in the evening and Hoseok was long off work, but the man had opted to order them some take-out and eat with Yoongi in the studio.

“To tell you the truth–” He dragged a sound clip on the second audio track. “–After I went to Seoul for university, I forgot about him.”

Hoseok snorted. “How can you possibly forget about your childhood friend?”

“Well, I was in a slump back then. I fought with my parents, packed my stuff, and went to Seoul, even if I didn’t know anyone at that time. Shit after shit happened and then I lost all contact with him.”

Humming in thought, Hoseok asked, “But he didn’t reach out to you though?”

Yoongi sighed and saved the file in his tracks folder. He couldn’t concentrate on work anymore, so it’d be better to have a break and eat his dinner instead. He was starving.

Opening the plastic lid of the container, Yoongi dipped the chopsticks into his japchae noodles and ate a mouthful. “No,” he said as he chewed. “It’s not like we were on the best terms when we parted.”

“Huh?” Hoseok’s attention was caught by that. “You mean you fought?”

“Not exactly.” He sipped on a can of coke. He wasn’t really comfortable with talking about his past, but with Hoseok, it was different. The man was his closest friend right now, someone whom he owed so much. This was the least that Yoongi could do to repay his kindness.

“My parents and I fought when they wouldn’t send me to Seoul for college. We were short on money at the time, but I was a rebellious bastard so I persisted.” Hoseok snorted and Yoongi gave him a glare. “Are you gonna listen or are you gonna keep being an ass?”

“Nah, continue.” Hoseok waved his hand, urging the producer to keep on talking. “It’s just I can somehow imagine that nineteen-year-old rebellious bastard you’re talking about. A fucking pain in the ass is what you are, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “So as I was saying,” he continued. “My parents didn’t support my decision to go to Seoul and study music production. And then there was Jimin.” He bit the inside of his cheek as the memories flooded his mind like tidal waves crashing against sand. “He never dreamt of going to Seoul, but because I told him that I would someday, he asked for his parents’ permission to go there for college and they accepted. He also got recruited by a dance company for his talent, so even though he’s two years younger than me, he already had his dreams within reach. Unlike me.”

“He wanted to become a dancer or a dance instructor because dancing was his passion. I hadn’t told him about my conflict with my parents. And when he said that in two years’ time, he would be in Seoul with me, I got mad.” Yoongi closed his eyes and willed the lump in his throat to go away. The memory was just painful–tormenting. He’d been stupid, and he hadn’t realized that until it was too late. “Back then, I thought that it was just so unfair. Why Jimin got the chance that I desperately wanted for myself. It wasn’t even his dream to go to Seoul, it was mine, but why was he the one given that opportunity instead of me?”

Yoongi shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping past his lips. “I was a jerk and I was angry at the world so I pushed him away. When I ran away from home, he was even there with me at the train station. I remember him being there. But after I got on the train, I never looked back.”

There was silence while Hoseok absorbed everything he had said. The supervisor was looking at him seriously, now that he was sitting properly with his elbows resting against his thighs. And after what seemed to be hours, Hoseok spoke. “Hyung, who is Jimin to you?”

Of all the things that Yoongi expected him to say, this was probably the last on his list. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it simply. I’m asking who Jimin is to you.”

Yoongi hesitated for a moment. “He was my best friend.”

“Was?”

“Well–” Yoongi rubbed a hand behind his neck awkwardly “–It’s not like we maintained a connection after I left, so…”

Hoseok nodded. “What about Jimin? Who are you to him?”

“An older brother.”

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Hobi-yah.” Yoongi’s forehead creased. “What are you implying?”

Hoseok sighed and cleared his throat before shifting slightly on the couch, hands clasping together as if this conversation with Yoongi was crucial and the most important talk of his life. “You said that Jimin wanted to go to Seoul with you. That it wasn’t even his dream, but when you said that you would someday, he decided to go too, right?”

Yoongi nodded.

“And why do you think he did that?”

“Because we’ve been together since we were little. I’m like an older brother to him and he looked up to me. Maybe he wanted to achieve our dreams together.”

“Hyung.” Hoseok’s eyebrows knotted together. “Jimin was seventeen. He was not a kid; he was a pubertal teenager. Maybe you were close and you treated each other like siblings, but that was not enough of a reason to move to the other side of the country. To leave everything behind for the sake of being with you in a foreign city.”

Yoongi’s heart skipped after he heard his friend’s words. “What are you saying, Hobi-yah?” he asked, careful and measured. “That Jimin felt something for me? Is that it?”

Hoseok paused for a while to watch the confused and surprised look on his friend’s face. “I’m not in the place to confirm that, hyung. I can only speculate.”

Yoongi’s emotions were in chaos. He didn’t know what to think. Now that there was someone who had voiced the only thing that he’d desperately tried to ignore for years, Yoongi felt so lost. The idea of Jimin cradling some sort of feelings for him had crossed his mind before, but Yoongi had remained firm and kept the younger at arm’s length. They were best friends–brothers. And brothers shouldn’t hold unnecessary feelings for each other.

“Fuck.” Yoongi pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Goddamn.”

“Hyung?” Hoseok said worriedly. “What’s the matter?”

“If what you’ve said is true, then I’m a fucking moron.”

“Why? Did something else happen?”

The producer ran a hand down his face in frustration. He wanted to kill himself. After taking in a deep breath, he muttered, “We took each other’s virginity.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok remarked in disbelief.

“We were young, Hobi. We were curious, hormonal teenagers.” Yoongi huffed out an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t… I didn’t know that there could be something serious.”

“Oh my God, Min Yoongi. You’re not a moron.” Hoseok deadpanned. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

At that, Yoongi groaned.

vi.

I will get to meet you again no matter in what form

Greet me happily then

Yoongi texted Jimin.

Because one, Hoseok had bugged him to the deepest depths of hell that he should reconnect with Jimin, and two, he himself was curious if what Hoseok had said in the studio was true. That Jimin harbored feelings for him that were beyond their brotherly bond.

Yoongi had been an idiot, yes, but he wasn’t stupid enough to try and fool himself into thinking that he didn’t feel anything for Jimin. He did, he knew he did, no matter how small it was. Or maybe it wasn’t small. Maybe it was the fact it was huge that it had frightened the nineteen-year-old Yoongi. He chose not to bask in that troublesome feeling, not to dwell further on that emotion, for he thought that it would only be a fruitless one.

He was young and he had dreams bigger than Mount Everest. He was a rebel, a fighter. And he kept his vision forward. But somewhere along the road, he had lost his tracks, had forgotten his way back. And throughout the years, he had lost a part of who he was.

To: Park Jimin

Hi Jimin. This is Yoongi

He waited. It was almost midnight and Jimin might have already been sleeping–

Re:

Hyung! Hi. I’m happy to receive your message

Well, Yoongi didn’t expect for Jimin to reply so soon. Nibbling on his bottom lip, Yoongi typed out his reply.

To: Park Jimin

Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping? Don’t you have work tomorrow?

Re:

Pft. I could say the same thing to you. Yes, I’m working tom. But I’m still finishing an episode of this drama I’m watching

Yoongi snorted. So even now, Jimin still loved watching those sappy dramas?

To: Park Jimin

Ya. You better sleep soon, Park Jimin

Re:

Hyungggg! I’m not a kid anymore

Yoongi chuckled. Why could he imagine Jimin pouting right now?

To: Park Jimin

Are you pouting?

Re:

Yes >3<

Yoongi bit his lower lip to suppress a blooming smile on his face.

To: Park Jimin

Sleep

Re:

Hyungggggg! :’(

To: Park Jimin

Don’t make me come there, Jimin

Re:

You don’t even know where I live

To: Park Jimin

Then I will drop by the kindergarten tomorrow afternoon to scold you

Yoongi’s heart stopped as he stared wide-eyed at the message that he’d just sent to Jimin. Fucking hell. He sounded like a goddamn creep. Did his fingers have a brain of their own?The message was too forward and it appeared like he had shamelessly invited himself to Jimin’s workplace.

Re:

Okay. But you have to bring me lunch or I won’t open the door

Bring one for you too

Yoongi blinked at the screen several times. Did Jimin just… tell him that they’d eat together? But before Yoongi could entirely process what the fuck was happening, his fingers were already moving of their own accord.

To: Park Jimin

Is kimchi jjigae okay?

Beep.

Re:

You still remember my favorite food, hyung :)

“Hyung has a lunch date!”

Yoongi huffed and kicked Hoseok on the shin. “One more of that and I’m going to kick your dick next.”

“Hyung!” Hoseok hooked his arm around Yoongi’s neck and grinned broadly, one hand rubbing the sore spot on his leg where Yoongi had kicked him. “I’m so happy for you. Tell me how it goes, yeah?”

Rolling his eyes at his friend and packing the food containers in a paper bag, he said, “We’re just eating together, Hobi-yah. Just like the old days.”

Hoseok snorted. “The ‘old days’ didn’t involve two blushing grown-up men, hyung.”

“I’m not–! You’re fucking gross, Jung Hoseok.” Yoongi grimaced.

“Oh, trust me,” Hoseok said with a wicked grin. “Jimin is looking forward to this lunch date as much as you.”

“It’s not a lunch date.”

The supervisor waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever you say, hyung. Now, shoo and spread your wings.” Hoseok opened the door of the studio and went outside, his loud voice echoing along the narrow hallway. “Namjoon-ah! Yoongi-hyung has a lunch date today!”

Yoongi winced.

Perhaps the last time that Yoongi felt this anxious was when he was about to submit his first mixtape to a recording company. He was in dire need of a job at the time, throwing everything he had into that one USB flash drive which contained his life’s work.

Yoongi’s toes were fidgeting inside his well-worn white rubber shoes, the nail of his thumb scratching the handle of the paper bag hanging beside him. He had been standing here for a full five minutes now, and it was not until the sound of the school bell rang that Yoongi stopped chewing on his bottom lip. His heart hammered inside his chest when the door to the classroom suddenly burst open, coming with it the stampede of little kids running out of the room, screaming and laughing while carrying their lunchboxes.

A teacher came out shortly and politely bowed to Yoongi which the latter returned for courtesy.

“Yoongi-oppa?”

Yoongi’s eyes dropped down on the little girl wearing an adorable baby blue dress in front of him. “Um, hi, Chan Hee.”

“Hello. Is my uncle with you?” she asked with innocent round eyes.

Shaking his head, he said, “No. I think your mom will pick you up today like always.”

Chan Hee wrapped her arms around her lunch box and smiled. “Okay. Bye, oppa!”

“Bye, little miss.” Yoongi smiled and watched the kid run along the hallway, probably towards the lawn where they would have their lunch with the teacher from earlier.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi’s breath hitched.

“I’m glad you made it.” Jimin’s lips stretched into a wide smile when their gazes met. “Do you have my lunch?”

The elder snorted lightly and raised the paper bag in his hand. “Safe and sound, Your Highness.”

Jimin giggled, and damn, Yoongi’s face suddenly felt warm.

“Are you fine with eating inside the room?” the younger asked, to which Yoongi just hummed his approval.

The glass windows were all slid open, letting the cool air circulate inside the room as both of them sat across from each other at the teacher’s desk. The rustling of leaves and the faint voices of the children could be heard from where they were, and Yoongi was astounded for a moment at how peaceful it was to just sit there and stare outside the window. The translucent white curtains were dancing along with the wind, gentle, like angel wings. And the soft noise of a container being opened was the one which pulled him back from his reverie.

“It smells so good, hyung,” Jimin remarked after he opened the lid of the microwavable container.

“Well, it better taste good, too.” Yoongi tried his hardest to be subtle as he watched Jimin take his first mouthful of the kimchi stew.

“Oh my God.” The younger wiped away a fake tear. “I owe you my life, Min Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi snorted. “Stop being a drama queen and start eating. The food will get cold.”

Jimin grinned and saluted him.

After a while of comfortable silence, Jimin spoke. “I see that you still love meat, hyung.”

“Meat is the backbone of the culinary world,” Yoongi said with pride as he chewed on his bulgogi. “It’s the most superior food on the planet.”

The younger chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t you have to watch over your students?” Yoongi asked, thinking back to the kids who ran out of the classroom earlier.

“Nah. Taehyung watches over them during lunch.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Taehyung?”

“Hm.” Jimin nodded his head. “He’s my co-teacher. You probably saw him go out of the room earlier.”

“Ah,” Yoongi mused. “That tall-ass guy.”

Jimin hid a giggle behind his hand. “Yeah. That ‘tall-ass’ guy. We’re very close.”

Yoongi didn’t want to stick his nose into another person’s business, because he knew firsthand how annoying it could be. But there was this uneasy sensation coiling in his gut as he struggled to keep the question in, pulling at his chest and clouding his mind until he could no longer think.

“Is Taehyung your boyfriend?”

Damn Yoongi and his big mouth.

Jimin looked more than surprised at the question and his mouth literally gaped for five seconds or so before he let out a bright laugh. “No! Hyung, what the hell?” Jimin shook his head, a wide smile still plastered on his face. “Taehyung’s my closest friend at the moment and he’s like a brother to me. I’ll never see him like that.”

Somehow, a crippling sensation suddenly stabbed into Yoongi’s chest after hearing those words. And his change of mood must have shown because the smile on Jimin’s face slowly faded. “Hm,” Yoongi hummed as he dipped his chopsticks into the eomuk side dish. “I see.”

“He’s like a brother to me. I’ll never see him like that.”

Of course. Brothers shouldn’t be involved romantically with each other. It was the law of nature. Yoongi’s decision to ignore his unwanted feelings before had been right, and Jimin’s statement was enough proof of that. Hoseok was wrong. The younger hadn’t felt anything for him during their early days. They were like siblings; their bond was thicker than blood. Of course, Jimin wouldn’t see him like that. It was delusional.

But why was Yoongi’s chest tightening so much?

“Hyung?”

Yoongi’s eyes lifted. Jimin looked a bit agitated.

“Can I…” he licked his lower lip briefly before meeting the elder’s gaze “…Treat you to lunch tomorrow?”

The surprise on Yoongi’s face must have flustered Jimin because the latter’s cheeks flushed beautifully before he stammered out an excuse, “I-I mean, um, you treated me to lunch today, so I was thinking of paying you back. If… if that’s fine with you, of course.”

The cogs in Yoongi’s head seemed to err for a moment before he finally cleared his throat and said, “Sorry. But I will have a lunch meeting with the other producers tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s shoulders sagged a little. “Is that so?”

“Hm.”

Yoongi tried not to think how visibly dispirited Jimin was by that news, and somehow, the producer felt like killing himself for making the other feel that way. “What about dinner?” he blurted out.

Jimin’s eyes lifted up.

“Is dinner okay?”

A smile slowly tugged the corners of Jimin’s mouth and he nodded perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, dinner’s fine.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Is 7:30 fine?”

“Yup.” Jimin leaned on his elbows. “What’s the name of your company, hyung? I have a car. I can meet you there.”

“Oh. Um,” Yoongi began. “It’s Golden Disc.”

“Noted.” Jimin stuck out his thumb. “I’ll take you to a good restaurant in the area, hyung. Trust me.”

The producer laughed. “It better not be empty words, Jimin-ah.”

Both men visibly paused because of that.

Okay, maybe Yoongi had been close with Jimin before. But things had changed during those ten years they’d been apart, and he didn’t know if it was alright to be this familiar again with the other man.

Yoongi was just about to pour that hot kimchi stew over his head when Jimin suddenly blinded him with his smile. It was so radiant and beautiful that it made Yoongi’s heart quiver ever so slightly. Biting his bottom lip briefly, Jimin replied, “They’re not. I’ll make sure to give you a good meal, hyung.”

Maybe it was the glitch in the natural lighting of the room or perhaps the shade of various colors around them reflecting on Jimin’s skin. But the pink hue dusting off the younger’s cheeks was so undeniably real that Yoongi almost choked on his food. There was still a shy smile on Jimin’s lips as he took a peek at Yoongi in front of him.

“The ‘old days’ didn’t involve two blushing grown-up men, hyung.”

Hoseok’s voice echoed inside Yoongi’s head and his heart leapt into the sky when Jimin’s eyes held his in a soft gaze. He hated to admit it, but his friend was right. Maybe, Yoongi was blushing too.

Well, just a little bit though.

vii.

I said, grasping my crushed shoulder

I really can’t do any more

Every time I wanted to give up

By my side, you said

Bastard, you can really do it

Min Yoongi, 18 years old.

Yoongi’s gaze dropped on the stone in his hand before he took a deep breath and threw it into the ocean, the stone bouncing on the water twice before sinking to the sandy bottom. The cold water was biting onto his calves, relaxing his tense muscles after walking and running around for hours. The sky was a mixture of crimson, orange, and blue, the colors bleeding above the sparkling waters like smudged paint.

He’d had a fight with his parents. Yoongi had never been sure about something in his entire life and yet his parents, the ones who should understand him the most in the entire world, couldn’t support his decision. Wouldn’t support his dream.

He’d told them that he wanted to go to Seoul to study for music production, but his mother was the first one to refuse. She wanted him to have a ‘stable’ job, one which was certain to give him enough salary to provide food on his table, and not a ‘meandering’ one which depended mostly on luck and opportunities. Yoongi knew that it was hard to make his way to the top of the music industry, let alone be an acclaimed producer, but it was his dream. He had an undeniable talent for it; all those lyrics scribbled at the back of his notebook, the messy handwritten notes on music sheets and a whole folder of finished beats in his laptop were all proof of his passion for his dream.

Yoongi knew his parents were worried about him, about his future; he loved them alright. But he couldn’t stomach the thought of becoming someone whom his parents had dreamt for him to be and not someone whom he himself had wanted to be. It just didn’t sit right with Yoongi. He was their child, yes, and he respected his parents for providing for him all these years. But he was a person, an independent individual who had dreams and aspirations of his own.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi’s head turned towards the source of that voice, and he tried to drown the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the younger male approaching him. Jimin kicked off his shoes and folded his school pants up to his knees, gasping audibly as he submerged his feet in the cold water.

A chuckle bubbled inside Yoongi’s throat when the younger visibly shook for a moment before standing closely beside him. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“My mom told me to buy something at the convenience store, but then I saw you here. Are you out for a walk?”

Yoongi hummed and cast his eyes down on the second stone in his hand, thumb rubbing against the rough surface mindlessly. “I had a fight with my mom and dad.”

“Oh…” Jimin’s eyes softened with empathy. “…May I ask why?”

“I told them that I want to go to Seoul for college, but they refused. They don’t want me to study music production and said that they won’t be able to support my financial needs if I go to the city.”

Jimin sighed and bit his lip. “But, hyung, you’ll be a great producer. I know it.”

Yoongi laughed bitterly. “Maybe you’re the only one who thinks like that.”

Jimin shook his head and held his free hand with both hands, grasping it tightly as his eyes burned with hope and trust for the older male. “The whole school knows how well you play the piano for the music club, hyung. The world will undoubtedly listen to your music if you pursue your dream. You’ll be praised for your talent and hard work. I believe in you.”

There was this strange flutter in Yoongi’s abdomen that caused warmth to boom inside his chest. Yoongi’s smile was dazzling, all gums and teeth as he pulled Jimin in for a hug. The younger gasped when their bodies pressed together, his hands finding their place on Yoongi’s back as he tugged the latter closer.

“Thank you, Minie.”

The younger giggled at the silly nickname. “What are you planning to do now, hyung?”

“Hm…” Yoongi inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes to think, trying not to be affected by the smell of the salty spray of the ocean on Jimin’s skin and hair. “I’ll work more part-time jobs. I have a whole year before I graduate, so I’m going to save up as much money as I can. Tell my parents that I’ll help with the expenses for college. Maybe they’ll let me if I show them my independence.”

At that, Jimin nodded and pulled away slightly to smile at him. “You’ll do great, hyung. You’ll be fine.”

If there was anything that Yoongi wasn’t embarrassed of when it came to physical interaction with Jimin, then it was kissing him. So Yoongi did what he thought was best at that moment. He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against the younger’s forehead, the latter giggling heartily at the familiar gesture which Yoongi had been graciously giving him ever since they were little.

There were people in their school who gave them shit for it, calling them names and whatever bullshit they thought of. Some even went as far as spreading a rumor of them being together, which both Yoongi and Jimin brushed off and had never given two fucks about.

They were close. Brothers. And Yoongi had never thought for a second before showering Jimin with his affection.

viii.

Back then when I fell into a pit of despair

Even when I pushed you away

Even when I resented meeting you

You were firmly by my side

Min Yoongi, 19 years old.

Yoongi had worked hard for a year to save up for college. And when his parents saw his unwavering dedication, they became more accepting towards his goal of leaving his hometown and finding a new life in the capital. They even went as far as offering their financial support to him, even if they could only afford half of his financial needs. Yoongi sought scholarships then, and because of his good marks from school, he was able to secure one or two of them. Everything was going great and Yoongi thought that nothing would hinder him from following his dream again. That was until the country suffered an economic crisis, and companies were forced to dismiss thousands of workers from their premises.

Yoongi’s parents weren’t an exception to that economic fiasco.

Shouts and hurtful words were thrown back and forth within the walls of their small home, and Yoongi ran away with an aching cheek and cracked bottom lip where his father had struck him for cursing at his mother. It was raining but Yoongi didn’t seem to feel it. He felt so numb and hurt, like a giant lump of marred flesh and bones.

He ran with his mind in disarray, shouting his agony and frustrations into the night, plummeting raindrops on his face. His feet guided him towards the willow tree in the town playground, his fingertips brushing against the carved name of Jimin’s pet cat on the tree trunk. He slumped against the tree and pulled his knees closer to his chest, cradling his broken heart and feeling like a small speck of dust in the cruel world he was living in.

It wasn’t long before Yoongi felt the few raindrops escaping the willow’s leaves and dropping against his skin dissipate. When he lifted his head from his arms, he was greeted by a pair of dark brown eyes staring down at him with genuine worry. “Hyung, why are you out in the rain? I saw you running and I got so worried.”

Suddenly, Yoongi felt safe. He didn’t know why, but Jimin’s presence had such a huge impact on him that his tense body relaxed a little bit under his influence. “It’s just… we had a fight again.”

Jimin crouched in front of him, holding the umbrella with his right hand to shield them away from the rain. “Is it about college again?”

Yoongi nodded slowly and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Don’t worry, hyung.” Jimin smiled empathetically and stroked his cold arm with his thumb. And at that exact moment, Yoongi suddenly felt warmth blossom in his skin where Jimin had touched him. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. And oh, I just got the news today and I want to tell you that I’ve been accepted to a dance program in Seoul! It’s a dance academy and the biggest one in the city. In two years’ time, I’ll be with you in Seoul, hyung. Wait for me, okay?”

Yoongi’s whole world tilted at its hinges and the raindrops around him seemed to freeze the moment Jimin told him about that news. “You…” Yoongi swallowed dryly “…you’ll go to Seoul?”

“Hm!” Jimin grinned at him happily as he nodded. “Let’s achieve our dreams together, hyung–”

Yoongi stood abruptly on his feet, causing Jimin’s rear to fall down on the muddy ground with a startled yelp. “Why?” Yoongi’s fists trembled at his sides. “Why are you going to Seoul? It’s not even your dream to go there; it’s mine! How come you get to go while I’ll be stuck in this godforsaken town my whole life?”

Jimin was staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes. His plump lips trembled as he tried to form coherent words in his mind. “I-I’m… I’m sorry, hyung. I just… I just want to be with y–”

“Fuck that!” Yoongi shouted and punched the trunk with his fist, his rage numbing the pain biting onto his knuckles. “Fuck Seoul! Fuck my parents! Fuck everyone! Fuck you!”

“H-Hyung…” Jimin stood up and let the umbrella fall to the ground, rain now soaking him to the bone like Yoongi. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be going too, so I…” Jimin swallowed. “I’m sorry. P-Please don’t be mad–”

“It’s so unfair, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the trunk, his whole frame shaking with a sob that he’d held in for so long. “I-I don’t understand. Why? D-Did I do something wrong? Why am I being punished like this?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, hyung.” Yoongi felt a pair of arms circling round his waist from behind. “Please, hyung. I’m sorry–”

“Don’t.” Yoongi shrugged off Jimin’s touch. Even his heart was breaking from pushing away the warmth which he needed so much right now. He turned around to face the younger, and even through the wetness, Yoongi could still see the tears that were gliding down Jimin’s youthful face. He didn’t reach out to stop his tears from falling though, for Yoongi’s pain was much bigger than the sun itself. Much bigger than Jimin’s own. And he was dying. Slowly. Painfully.

“I don’t want to see you, Jimin.”

Yoongi opted not to see the flash of hurt in Jimin’s eyes, decided not to feel any sort of emotion towards him.

“Hyung–”

“It hurts me to see you now.” Yoongi averted his teary gaze. “Please don’t approach me again.”

And just like that, Yoongi left. It was unfair, but he was hurt. He couldn’t feel anything, think about anything but the searing pain inside his chest, the hollow void which life carved inside him so deeply that it sucked his whole being.

Yoongi was in pain and he had never felt so lost in his entire life.

ix.

Don’t worry, even if I leave

You’ll do well on your own

I remember when I first met you

Before I knew it, you grew up

Though we are putting an end to our relationship

Don’t ever feel sorry for me

His graduation ceremony had ended with camera flashes and colorful roses. With hugs and kisses that families and friends shared. With tears, goodbyes, and promises uttered to see each other again.

And yet there Yoongi stood in front of the trash bin near the back gate of his school, throwing away his graduation gown and cap and patting the back pocket of his jeans where a few bills were tucked safely. His parents hadn’t attended his graduation, but Yoongi couldn’t really blame them. He hadn’t talked to them ever since that night and if only he had a place of his own, then he would be out of the house in a blink of an eye. His childhood home that was once warm and full of laughter was now cold and woeful. Every night that Yoongi slept in his room, he could feel the seeping sorrow from its walls and hear the cries and shouts that he and his parents had shared that one fateful night. His home was once his abode, a safe place where he found repose, but now he couldn’t even sleep soundly in it. He felt so unguarded and exhausted that he sometimes slept in the streets just to shun the suffocating air of his home.

It wasn’t until a few weeks after their fight that Yoongi had been able to find a place that he could call ‘his.’ And right now, that was where Yoongi was heading.

It was an abandoned junkyard at the far side of the neighborhood, a place of solace and peace from the prying eyes of the people around him. Yoongi climbed inside the abandoned school bus and turned on the fairy lights that he’d connected to the battery of the vehicle which fortunately had some juice left. He had a blanket and a pillow inside, stacks of magazines and a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes and a battery-operated radio. This cramped place had become so much more of a home than the one he’d grown up in. It was cozy and quiet. Just like how Yoongi wanted it to be.

As he slouched against the metallic wall of the bus, Yoongi sighed and took out a pack of cigarettes which he’d bought from the convenience store he was working in. He grabbed a stick and lit it with his lighter, cursing as he saw the little amount of liquid left in it.

He took a drag and closed his eyes, letting the curl of white smoke swirl above him. The seconds became minutes, and the minutes marched into hours. The sky was now a dark shade of black and blue but Yoongi didn’t move from his spot, spent cigarettes littered by his right side.

And then he heard a thud of footfalls slowly climbing the stairs of the school bus. Yoongi’s eyes cracked open and his gaze caught the slight figure of a teenage boy standing a few feet away from him, his hesitant eyes dropping to his feet as his little fingers fidgeted at the hems of his gray hoodie jacket.

“How did you find this place, Jimin-ah?” he asked calmly.

Jimin looked nervous and reluctant to answer, but after he took in a few deep breaths, he said, “I’ve… been following you for a week now. I’m so sorry, hyung. I’m just so worried about you.”

Yoongi hummed and opened the small cooler beside him, taking out a can of beer. “It’s alright. Just don’t tell my parents where I am.”

“I won’t!” Jimin replied immediately. “I won’t.”

The elder chuckled and patted the empty spot beside him. “Sit with me.”

The younger’s eyes widened for a second, seemingly surprised before he asked, “Is it okay?”

“Of course, dummy. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I thought…” Jimin bit his bottom lip. “…I thought you were mad at me.”

“I wasn’t really mad at you. I was mad at myself. Still am.” Yoongi sipped on his drink and let his head thump back against the wall. “I’m a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

“You’re not.” Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat beside Yoongi. “You’re an amazing person, hyung. The bravest and strongest one I’ve ever met.”

That response pulled out a chuckle from Yoongi’s chest. “Why do you look up to me so much, Jimin-ah?”

The light coming from the fairy lights cast an orange glow over Jimin’s face, and Yoongi’s breath hitched in his throat when the younger’s cheeks turned a shade darker as he averted his eyes from their shared gaze. “I don’t… know. You’re just simply amazing, hyung. Whatever you do, you do it so well no matter how hard it is. You persevere for your dream, and I think that it’s so heroic of you to continue fighting against the odds.”

Yoongi chuckled lightly as he stared down at the can of beer in his hands. “I’m not as great of a man as you’re making me out to be.” Gulping down a few more mouthfuls before tossing the empty can aside, Yoongi reached for the cooler to open another beer. “Want a drink?”

Jimin shook his head. “I’m not allowed to drink.”

Yoongi snorted. “Neither am I. I’m still not twenty-one.” He threw the can towards Jimin who caught it with both hands. “Let yourself loose sometimes, Minie.”

Jimin laughed as he leaned back and opened the can of beer. “You’re a bad influence, hyung.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes fondly and drank his drink quietly. The whole bus was submerged in a comfortable silence, one which Yoongi found so soothing despite the other’s presence beside him. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you, Jimin-ah. I was a jerk to you.”

“I’m not mad, hyung. I understand what you’re going through. You’re hurt and I don’t blame you.”

Sometimes, Yoongi wondered what great thing he’d done in his past life to deserve someone like Jimin by his side. The guy was kind, cheerful, and understanding. Talented and loved by many. The polar opposite of Yoongi’s whole being.

“It was my graduation ceremony earlier, you know.”

Jimin hummed.

He grinned teasingly. “Do you have a gift for me?”

The younger’s eyes widened before shifting his gaze on the can of beer he was holding on his lap. “I-I’m sorry, hyung. I thought you wouldn’t want to receive anything from me, so I didn’t… prepare a gift for you. Sorry.”

Yoongi huffed out a laugh through his nose and gripped the back of Jimin’s head to plant a soft kiss against his forehead. The younger gasped when he felt Yoongi’s lips on his skin, his fingers clutching the can tight enough that the metal gave a slight cracking sound.

“I’m just teasing, Jimin-ah. Don’t be troubled by it.”

After he pulled away, Jimin turned his head to the other side and scratched his neck. Yoongi was just about to laugh at his shy expression when the younger asked, “Why do you have a duffel bag with you, hyung?”

Yoongi’s gaze shifted to his backpack and black duffel bag beside a stack of magazines. His palms sweated a bit so he wiped them off on his jeans, jaw suspended with unspoken words and hope. “I’m going to Seoul tomorrow.”

Jimin’s head whipped back to his direction, eyes blown wide and mouth gaping in shock. “Hyung. What… w-what about your parents?”

“They’ll accept it eventually.” Yoongi’s eyes were in front of him, lost in space and time. “They’ve never even set foot in my room after we fought. We still haven’t talked and I know that they’re still mad at me. Because I’m still mad at them.”

“Hyung.” There was a small whine in Jimin’s voice when he spoke. “What are you going to do once you’re in the city? How will you live?”

“I already contacted the owner of a small flat in Jung-gu. It’s a bit far from the university, but I guess I’ll get my leg muscles to work everyday. Not really a bad thing though.” He laughed humorlessly. He couldn’t be happy, knowing that he would have a life of suffering waiting in front of him before he achieved his dream–if he would ever achieve it. Knowing that he would part ways with his parents like this. Put everything he grew up with, grew up in, behind to bet on a huge ambition.

“I have enough cash to last me for three months. I’ll need to start looking for a job or two once I get there.”

Jimin remained silent as Yoongi talked, his forefinger playing with the can’s pull tab absently. Yoongi was on his third can of beer and beginning to feel the slight buzz of the liquor in his head when Jimin spoke, “I… have something for you, hyung.”

The skin between Yoongi’s eyebrows creased. “I thought you didn’t have a gift for me?”

“It’s not really a gift.”

“Then what is it?”

Jimin’s mahogany eyes held his gaze and Yoongi felt himself drowning in their color and intensity. “Myself.”

Yoongi’s confusion doubled because of that. “What?”

“I will give you myself, hyung,” the younger spoke quietly and carefully, eyes never leaving his. “Will you take me?”

“Jimin-ah.” Yoongi’s throat suddenly felt dry as his heart banged against his chest. He wasn’t even able to form another word when Jimin suddenly straddled his lap and took his face into a searing kiss, shutting his mind down and robbing him of all coherent thoughts.

His shaking hands grasped the fabric of Jimin’s jacket on his hips, gasping as Jimin let the tip of his tongue dart out to lick the elder’s slightly chapped bottom lip. “You taste like cigarettes and beer, hyung,” he muttered and Yoongi shivered when his warm breath hit his face.

“J-Jimin-ah.”

“It’s okay, hyung.” Jimin stroked his black locks before dipping down to press a tender kiss beside Yoongi’s mouth. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Soon, clothes were strewn everywhere and the high in which Yoongi found himself submerged was too strong to battle with. With the fairy lights reflecting on their clammy skin and the silence of the night mixing with their pants and labored breaths, Yoongi let his arm drape over his eyes as Jimin slept quietly beside him, his bare skin nestled in Yoongi’s blankets and brown locks resting comfortably on the slightly hard and fraying pillow.

After his heartbeat calmed down a bit, he turned his head to the side to let himself bask in Jimin’s beauty. He had always seen him as a little boy, a younger brother, thus, when Jimin had taken his face like that and kissed him for the first time, Yoongi was thrown into an utter state of shock and confusion.

His lashes are so long, he thought to himself.

Yoongi was so used to having Jimin beside him that he hadn’t taken a moment to stop and really look at him, wondering when that little boy with round cheeks, small eyes, and plump lips grew up to be an attractive and handsome young man.

The first light of dawn broke into the horizon as Yoongi clothed himself and gathered his belongings. The sound of boots thudding against the metal floor and the zipping of bags stirred Jimin awake. He sat up with a blanket pulled over his torso, hair sticking to every direction that Yoongi couldn’t contain the light chuckle that fell down from his lips. “Sleep. It’s still early.”

When Jimin finally emerged from his sleepy state, he visibly paused as he stared at the bags in Yoongi’s hands. “You’re… going now?”

Yoongi hummed. “My train is at seven o’clock. I still need to catch a bus to the station.”

Jimin’s eyes dropped to Yoongi’s feet for a moment, before he asked, “Can I… come with you, hyung?”

Yoongi didn’t know if it was a good idea, but seeing how crestfallen the younger was right now made his chest constrict horribly. “Okay,” he said breathily.

Jimin didn’t waste another second before he pulled on his boxers, pants, and jacket. And after just a minute, he was already climbing down the abandoned school bus and standing behind Yoongi, looking quite hesitant to approach the elder.

They rode the bus to the train station in silence, but their shoulders, hips, thighs, and knees subtly pressing against each other as they sat down was enough to calm Yoongi’s worries of finally breaking himself from the cage of his hometown.

They never talked about what happened the night before; never dared to speak a single thing about it and Yoongi was more than glad for that.

Yoongi’s train was already on the tracks and hauling in passengers when they arrived at the station. Yoongi glanced at the younger male standing beside him and noticed the tightness on the corners of Jimin’s lips as he stared at the train in front of them. He sighed and hooked his free arm around Jimin’s neck to pull him in for an embrace for the last time. “Thank you for everything, Jimin-ah. Let’s see each other in Seoul in two years, yeah?”

Jimin didn’t nod his head but let out a shaky breath instead. He was crying softly against Yoongi’s shoulder and the elder let him calm down first before minding the last call of the guard waving a neon green light stick by the train door.

“Thank you for taking care of me, hyung.” Jimin lifted his face and smiled at him with tearstained cheeks. “Good luck with your dreams. I believe in you.”

Yoongi smiled and leaned forward to kiss Jimin’s forehead for the last time, pushing away the sadness enveloping his heart and using the younger’s words to strengthen his resolve. “Goodbye, Jimin-ah.”

“Goodbye, hyung.”

Yoongi pulled away and turned around to board the train with a resolute mind and a heart full of hope and dreams. The train doors closed behind him, shutting away the place where he’d grown up, leaving everything he knew behind for the sake of his dream. And once his soles settled on the cold metal floor of the train, he didn’t look back ever again, not even once.

x.

I neglected you when I once yearned for you so

On top of the white jade-like keyboard

Dust is piling on

Your image that has been neglected

Even then I didn’t know

Your significance

No matter where I am

You always defended that spot

Min Yoongi, 29 years old.

Yoongi had started seeing Jimin more often, thanks to the fact that Jimin’s workplace was just a car ride away from the recording company. They were comfortable with one another, the initial awkwardness of seeing each other again after a long time gradually fading away. They slowly became close once again, putting those ten years of separation behind after recollecting the fondness of their childhood memories. But not once had they traversed the line of that one unspoken memory. That night which had healed and broken Yoongi at the same time, that event which rendered him sleepless until the crack of dawn.

They were now in Jimin’s apartment, sitting comfortably on the couch with the lights turned off and a cozy blanket thrown over them as they watched a superhero movie which Jimin had never stopped talking about ever since Yoongi told him that he hadn’t seen said film.

Sometime during the show, Jimin’s head had leaned on Yoongi’s shoulder, and as stupid as it sounded, Yoongi was afraid for a moment that the younger could hear his rapidly beating heart.

“Have you visited your parents yet?”

“No.” He let his head fall to the side, his right temple pressing against a crown of brown hair.

“You mean you’ve never seen them after you left?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Yoongi began to explain. “Two years after I went to Seoul, I contacted them. I was nervous and I didn’t know if they would still want to talk to me after what I did. My mother cried so hard, you know, and I did too.” He chuckled. “I’ve never been back here in Busan until my transfer three months ago, but Mom and Dad have been visiting me once or twice a year after our reconciliation. And we also talk on the phone twice or thrice a week. I don’t know. It depends. And my mom has been nagging me nonstop to visit our house soon, ever since I told her that I’m already here.”

Jimin just hummed and didn’t push the topic further.

Yoongi asked, “How about you? How did you get here, miles away from home?”

Jimin shrugged. “Stuff happened and ta-dah! Not much of a fun story. It’s actually boring.”

“How are Mr. and Mrs. Park?”

For a moment, Jimin paused before smiling faintly. “Fine. But they were so sad when you left.”

Yoongi winced. “I’m sorry. They were so kind to me.”

“It’s okay.” Jimin patted his thigh. “I think they understood your decision though. They couldn’t be any prouder of what you have become now, hyung.”

Yoongi smiled and kissed the crown of Jimin’s head, closing his eyes as he felt the younger take in a deep breath. “Why did you become a teacher, Jimin-ah?” he murmured. “What happened to your scholarship in that dancing academy in Seoul?”

Now that the question was dropped, there was no turning back. It had been bugging Yoongi ever since they’d first met after ten long years. Why did Jimin become a teacher instead of a dancer? Had something happened?

Jimin was wordless for a whole minute, long enough that Yoongi thought he might have already fallen asleep. However, Jimin did speak after that moment of unbearable silence. “I’m not as passionate as you, hyung. I was a kid, and I had a wonderful dream. But when life knocks on your doorstep, you won’t be able to turn it away. Reality and aspirations are two very different things. And I chose to have a more practical job than chase for an implausible dream.”

“Jimin-ah.” Yoongi pulled away to look at the younger’s face, eyebrows furrowing at the calm look the other was giving out. “You’re one of the most passionate people I know. You’ve always wanted to become a dancer or a dance instructor. What happened?”

Jimin smiled faintly and flattened the crease between the elder’s eyebrows with his finger. “I gave up my scholarship, hyung. It was never my dream to go to Seoul anyway.”

Yoongi’s heart ached terribly and he felt like wringing his own neck. “Was it… was it because of what I said ten years ago?”

Jimin looked at him for a few seconds before he answered, “Yes.”

“Oh my God.” Yoongi curled in on himself as he fisted his dark locks, eyes shutting tightly to somehow ease the guilt clenching his heart. Was that why Jimin had never promised to see him in Seoul when Yoongi said his goodbye to him at the train station? Because he had already given up his dream for Yoongi? Because he didn’t want the elder to be mad at him?

“I’m so sorry, Jimin-ah. Fuck. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry–”

“Hyung, no. Don’t apologize.” Jimin slid a hand to Yoongi’s face, his palm cupping the elder’s cheek and turning his head towards him to meet his gaze. Yoongi’s eyes were so full of guilt and hurt that Jimin had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could say, “I’ve never blamed you for anything. My family’s business, our music shop, had had a crisis for a long time. After you told me that you would be going to Seoul for college, I selfishly requested my parents to send me there too. They were kind enough to agree, and after we fought, that was the time when I had the chance to think things over. That I shouldn’t just think about myself but also what was best for the people around me.”

“Why?” Yoongi asked, his heart beating faster as he continued to hold the younger’s gaze. “Why would you want to go to Seoul with me?”

Jimin’s lashes fluttered with a certain emotion that caused Yoongi’s breath to catch in his throat, even more so when the younger quietly spoke. “Because I love you, hyung. I have always loved you.”

Yoongi’s hands trembled in his lap and he pressed his cheek closer to Jimin’s palm, feeling that familiar heat seeping through his skin and caressing his heart like a soft lullaby. “J-Jimin-ah…”

“You don’t have to feel burdened, hyung. I didn’t say it to trouble you. I just think that… I have to say it, so I can finally let go.”

There was a pang of pain that crept into Yoongi’s chest at the younger’s words. “No,” he said before Jimin could pull his hand away. “I don’t want you to let go.”

“Hyung.” For the first time that night, Jimin’s voice broke as his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Please don’t say that.”

Yoongi held his hand and cupped his cheek with the other, thumb stroking gently against soft, sun-kissed skin. “Ever since we were little, I thought that this… uneasy feeling I’ve always felt for you was nothing. That it didn’t mean anything. But as we grew up, the emotion started to become something powerful, something stronger, something which I could name easily if it weren’t for me fooling myself into thinking I would always see you as a brother. But when we met again years after, when every goddamn mess in my life was finally sorted out, that feeling which I buried in my heart and mind had resurfaced. It took me by storm, Jimin-ah, and once again, I felt utterly helpless. Like I was still that nineteen-year-old kid who didn’t know what to do with his life.”

“Hyung…”

“Jimin-ah.” Yoongi swallowed thickly. “All these years, I think I… I think I’ve always loved you too.”

Jimin gasped audibly as a tear escaped his eyes. “No.” He shook his head. “You forgot about me for ten years. That’s not… that’s not love, hyung.”

Jimin tried to pull away from his grasp but Yoongi remained firm. “I’m sorry that I forgot about you. It had been… so difficult for me to survive in the city. I was so engrossed with my studies and work that I neglected you. I had been so busy trying to live on the streets and put food on my table, even if I only ate once a day for months. It had been… so hard and after I achieved my dream, I got lost in it. I was happy, but there’s always been something amiss despite my success. When I got back here after ten years, after I remembered that precious person in my childhood, I finally knew what was utterly wrong in my life.” Yoongi pressed their foreheads together. “It’s you, Jimin-ah. You’ve always been a huge part of my life and I was too blind to see it. So eager to achieve my dream that I have forsaken you. I’m so sorry.”

“You left me.” Jimin hiccupped. “You left me, hyung.”

“I know, Minie. I know. And I’m sorry.”

Jimin hit the elder’s chest with his fist gently several times, venting out his frustrations and hurt on Yoongi which he had kept to himself all these years. “Something happened between us and yet you still left me.”

“I know. Shh. Don’t cry.” Yoongi caressed the back of Jimin’s head as their foreheads remained pressed together, feeling his own tears burning at the back of his eyes.

“I hated you for leaving me, hyung. You don’t know how much you hurt me. How much grief I felt for losing you.”

“Shh. I know. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“That thing that happened between us that night… Did it not mean anything to you?”

“Of course it did.” Yoongi wiped a tear under Jimin’s eye. “It fucked me up so bad that I wasn’t able to sleep a wink. My head was running with wild, unrestrained thoughts that time. But I decided to ignore everything because if I thought about it for another second, then it would be hard for me to leave and let go.”

Jimin wrapped his arms tightly around Yoongi, pulling the elder as close to him as possible, wanting to eliminate as much space as their bodies would allow him to. “You didn’t contact me, hyung. Not even once. I didn’t know if you were still alive. I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin-ah. I’m so sorry.” Yoongi nuzzled his nose against Jimin’s temple, planting soft kisses on his skin as he waited for the younger to calm down.

When Jimin’s sobs died down, Yoongi pulled away to cup Jimin’s face in his hands and wipe away tears from his cheeks. “Hey… you okay now?” he whispered.

Jimin sniffled and nodded.

“Good.” Yoongi didn’t know where he got this newfound courage to lean forward and press his lips against the younger’s, but Yoongi didn’t give another damn about what he couldn’t and shouldn’t do. Jimin was here in front of him, laying his heart bare to him just like he had always done in the past, but this time, Yoongi would be here to receive it. To accept it wholly without the fear of crossing dangerous lines and boundaries. Because Jimin had already broken down Yoongi’s walls, capturing his heart and filling him with rapture.

He was not afraid to let his emotions go anymore.

“Yoongi-hyung.” Jimin hooked his arms around Yoongi’s neck as he pushed him gently against the backrest of the couch, straddling him and tilting his head slightly to kiss the elder deeper.

A drawn-out sound resounded deep within Yoongi’s chest as his hands stroked Jimin’s thighs through his sweatpants. The first time they’d kissed, it had been sloppy, unsure, and full of curiosity. But now that they had both grown up, with a little more experience and the excitement of finally connecting again, their kiss was slow, passionate, and full of certainty of what they wanted, of what they were feeling for one another.

Jimin pulled away and panted against Yoongi’s lips, keeping their foreheads and noses together as they let the scorching heat of their passion level down a bit. Yoongi reached up to put loose strands of brown hair behind Jimin’s ear. “I’m planning to visit my parents next Friday,” he said, voice low and quiet as a whisper. “Will you go with me?”

Jimin didn’t answer for a long moment, and Yoongi was starting to think that he would decline his request when the younger suddenly pecked his lips gently, making Yoongi’s heart sway once again, and said, “Okay, hyung. I’ll go with you.”

xi.

Without you, I am nothing

After the dawn, two of us

We welcomed the morning together

Don’t let go of my hand forever

I won’t let go of you again either

The smell of a home-cooked meal made Yoongi’s heart race in his chest.

His mother had greeted him and Jimin with hugs and kisses, even tearing up badly when she finally saw the younger after so many years.“You’ve grown up well, Jimin-ah,” she said with a proud smile, sniffling and stroking the younger’s brown locks.

Yoongi’s father hugged them both and told them to put their bags in their rooms first before going to the dining room for dinner. Jimin went inside the guest room as Yoongi carried his duffel bag to his old room. They would be staying here for the weekend, so Yoongi had made sure to pack a few changes of clothes and his laptop. He had to finish the track he was currently working on by the end of next week, and it didn’t help that he was so whipped for Jimin right now that he couldn’t deny the younger with anything.

That was how Yoongi found himself staying over at Jimin’s place during weekdays, eating dinner and sleeping huddled together on a single bed. Not that Yoongi was complaining. The latter was actually his most favorite part.

His mom had changed the sheets of his bed, but as he looked around his old childhood room, a sense of nostalgia hit him like a tidal wave, so strong that Yoongi almost cried. He had… missed his room. It wasn’t big like the one in the apartment he was renting right now in Seoul, but the four corners of this room, the faded blue walls, had witnessed so much of his pain and laughter throughout his early years.

His One Piece figurines were still on top of his wooden dresser, seemingly untouched with just a small amount of dust accumulating on the surface, telling Yoongi that his mother had been cleaning up his room even though it had remained vacant for ten years. It was touching, and Yoongi wiped away the tears that formed in his eyes before they even dared to fall.

After throwing the duffel bag beside his bed, Yoongi went outside the room to go to the small yard. And there he found it, on a safe and cozy corner near the glass door. The brown piano still stood at the same spot where he’d left it. Yoongi let his fingers run on the polished wood for a moment, feeling a bit nervous and relieved, finally reuniting with his old friend again. He sat down on the bench and opened the fallboard.

His forefinger hovered over a white key, his heart beating loudly in his chest as he let the pad press on it slowly. The high-pitched sound it emitted sent shivers down Yoongi’s spine, causing his breath to hitch in his throat as fresh tears began to sting the back of his eyes. He pressed another key, then again, and again.

The bliss he was currently feeling was unparalleled, drawing back forgotten emotions and memories from his childhood which these jaded-white keys had kept safe for him. He found a melody, soothing and slow, one which sounded of coming back home. His eyelids fell closed, letting his heart pour out into the sway of piano keys.

“You still play?”

Yoongi’s eyes fluttered open. There was a boy, no, a man standing beside the brown piano, with brown hair and round cheeks, mahogany eyes, and plump lips. But this time, there wasn’t a friendly smile on his face; it was something that was far deeper than the bond they’d shared when they first met each other, something which Yoongi could say now was one that was borne out of love.

“I never stopped.” Yoongi smiled back.

Jimin hummed and settled beside him on the piano bench. “You’re very good at playing the piano, hyung. You’re the best pianist in the world for me.”

Yoongi chuckled and raised a teasing eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Park Jimin?”

Jimin pouted. “Is it bad?”

“No.” Yoongi grinned before pressing a brief kiss on Jimin’s lips. “I love it.”

After washing up, Jimin asked for Yoongi’s permission if he could spend the night in his own parents’ home. Yoongi agreed, of course. It must’ve been a long time since Jimin had been back in their old neighborhood; who was he to deny him of his time with his mom and dad?

“I’ll go to your place tomorrow. It’s been years since I last saw Mr. and Mrs. Park.”

Jimin just smiled and nodded at him, pecking him on the cheek before taking his coat and unlocking the front door. It was lonely without Jimin; he had been so used to his presence again that Yoongi couldn’t imagine himself without the younger anymore.

As he went out of the shower dressed in his night clothes, toweling his still wet hair, Yoongi passed by the kitchen to get a glass of water. He heard the door to his parents’ bedroom creak open, his mother appearing shortly and asking, “Are you getting ready for bed?”

Yoongi hummed.

“And Jimin-ah?”

“He told me that he’s staying at his parents’ house tonight.” He took a sip from the glass. “I’ll pick him up tomorrow–”

“What?”

Yoongi didn’t know why his mom looked so shocked, why her eyes were wide as her lips quivered like she had seen a ghost. He frowned. “Mom, what’s–”

Mrs. Min stepped closer to him and gripped his shoulders tightly, face so full of worry and fear that it made Yoongi’s heart drop a fraction. “Find him right now,” she begged, “Please, Yoongi-yah.”

Yoongi was running. In the midst of a crisp, dark night.

The coat he was wearing wasn’t enough to keep him warm, not when he was feeling cold inside out, not when he still couldn’t see Jimin safely tucked inside his arms. He didn’t know why he went here, why he still couldn’t believe his mother after she told him the truth which Jimin begged for her and her husband to keep from Yoongi.

Jimin’s childhood home was just a few blocks away from his own, so it wasn’t long after he turned a corner that he found what he was looking for. The house used to have a small music shop on the first floor, the one which Yoongi’s father had bought the brown piano from. He used to stay over at Jimin’s house when he was a kid, playing with him in his room and eating dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Park. He loved that place just like his own. It was warm, welcoming, and full of joy.

But now, it was just an empty space with weeds and chunks of stones. Barbed wires ran along the wooden fence to keep the trespassers out. There was a signboard on it saying, ‘Lot for Sale,’ but judging by the rust that ate its edges, Yoongi was sure that it had been there for a long time.

Maybe even years.

“A year after you left, the Parks’ home burned down. A faulty wiring, they said. Jimin was rescued, but his parents got trapped inside their room when the ceiling fell. It was a tragedy, and your dad and I took Jimin in because his relatives were all in Europe and he still had a year of high school left. His aunt supported his studies, and after graduating from high school, Jimin moved out of the house to go to college. Said he didn’t want to be a burden to me and your father anymore, as well as to his relatives, so he opted to work and support his own education.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi cussed breathily as he fisted his hair in frustration. Why? Why the fuck didn’t Jimin tell him?

“Jimin knelt and bowed his head to the ground, thanking me and your father for taking care of him. But before he left, he asked for a favor: to reconcile with you and to not let you know about what happened. Because he thought that if you knew, you would leave everything you had achieved in Seoul for him.”

“Of courseI would have.” Yoongi pressed the heel of his palm in his right eye, feeling the skin dampen with tears. “I would have taken the first train back to Busan when you needed me the most, Jimin-ah.”

Yoongi was at a loss for what to do. Where would Jimin be at this time of night? Was he in a safe place? Was his coat keeping him warm? Fuck, Yoongi was so goddamn worried that he could vomit.

He didn’t know why he thought of that place or why his feet had willingly taken him there; it wasn’t as if they were still kids, but it was one of the places that harbored a lot of their childhood memories, a lot of Jimin’s tears when they buried his pet cat So-Hui when he was eleven and Jimin was nine.

The moon shone above the town playground and it wasn’t long before Yoongi spotted a figure standing beside the old willow tree. He let out a relieved sigh as he approached him, heartbeat racing faster in his chest with every step he took.

“Jimin-ah,” he called.

Jimin had his hands inside the pockets of his coat, his dark brown eyes gazing down at the carved name on the tree trunk. “So-Hui must havebeen feeling so lonely for a long time.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi stood beside him, eyes following Jimin’s gaze.

“I’ve never had another pet cat, hyung. I just couldn’t go through that pain again after he died. But then my parents…” Jimin swallowed thickly, lashes fluttering softly. “…Sometimes, I wondered why those who are precious to me kept leaving me. The people around me move on with life, but ever since So-Hui died, after my parents died, after you left, I’ve been stuck in the same place. Despite how much I tried to move, I never could.”

Yoongi’s heart ached and he went behind Jimin to wrap his arms around the younger’s waist. “I’m so sorry, Jimin-ah. I should have been here when you needed me the most.”

“It’s not your fault, hyung.” Jimin caressed the back of the elder’s hand with his thumb. “You had a goal to fulfill, so who am I to tell you otherwise?”

Yoongi tightened his hold around him. “I won’t leave you again, Jimin-ah. I promise.”

Jimin laughed humorlessly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I will,” he said, “I promise I will–”

“You’ll be gone soon, hyung.” Jimin’s eyes lost their light, as if too tired to even deal with the turbulent emotions currently residing inside his chest. “You’ll go back to Seoul and move on, perhaps forget about me for another couple of years. But I’ll still remain where I am, where I’ve always been. That is our reality, hyung.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip hard as he flipped Jimin around to face him. He couldn’t accept the words coming out of the younger’s mouth, couldn’t stand the dead look in his eyes as if he had already given up on life.

Had given up on them before they could even start.

“Listen to me, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi placed his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, urging him to look at him in the eye. “I may have left you before, but I swear to God that I will not do it again. Do you hear me? I won’t. So even if this damn job transfer ends, I will still be by your side.”

“Hyung…” Jimin whined helplessly, as if begging Yoongi to not give him false hope. “…Please, just–”

“Will you come to Seoul with me?”

Jimin’s eyes widened as his breath caught in his throat. “H-Hyung–”

“I can provide for the both of us while you look for a job. Or you can start pursuing your dream. It’s your choice and I’ll be there to support you. I have a stable income now, so money’s not a problem. My apartment is big enough for two people and you can take my bed if you want. Fuck, I don’t really care. Take anything you want. I just want you there with me.” Yoongi cupped his face. “Please, Jimin-ah. Please. Be with me.”

A sob was ripped out of Jimin’s mouth before he threw his arms around Yoongi’s neck. “Yes, hyung.” He buried his tearstained face beside Yoongi’s neck. “Yes. I’ll go wherever you want, as long as I’m with you.”

Yoongi gasped in a deep breath before he hugged Jimin back tightly, feeling the tears flowing down his face as a happy smile curved the corners of his lips. “Thank you, Jimin-ah.”

“No, hyung. Thank you.” Jimin pressed a firm kiss against Yoongi’s lips before he smiled. “For finding me again.”

xii.

So don’t ever let go of my hand

I won’t let you go ever again either

My birth and the end of my life

You will be there to watch over it all

Yoongi watched from his position behind the counter, toasted bread in hand, as Jimin rearranged his comic books on the shelf for the nth time. “Jimin-ah, you’ve been at it for two hours.”

Jimin sighed in frustration and crossed his arms, a small pout causing his lips jut out. Cute, Yoongi thought. “I don’t know where to put my One Piece volumes. I have so many comic books it’s actually annoying.”

Yoongi chuckled and went behind his lover, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing the crook of his neck. “We can always buy another shelf. Don’t stress yourself over it.”

Shaking his head, Jimin turned his head to the side to place a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek. “Nah. Don’t worry, hyung. I got it.”

It had only been three days since he and Jimin had moved in together, but Yoongi already felt the dull atmosphere of his apartment liven up tremendously. Jimin’s presence was like the sun itself, the embodiment of all joy and beauty in the entire world.

Jimin had witnessed his early years, and Yoongi was more than certain that he would also see the remaining days of his life. Yoongi might have failures and frustrations along the way, but Jimin would be there to watch them all, to give him strength when he felt weak, to shed light in the midst of darkness.

Now that he was free to love Jimin, Yoongi let himself fall deeper each day. Now that he was free to hold Jimin’s hand, he would never let go of him ever again.

xiii.

The corner of my memory

A brown piano settled on one side

In the corner of my childhood house

A brown piano settled on one side

Min Yoongi, 30 years old.

The corner of my memory

A brown piano settled on one side

Yoongi’s eyes cracked open when he felt a subtle shift beside him. Turning his gaze to the side, he was met by a tuft of brown hair and long dark lashes fanning over high cheekbones. A fond smile tugged the corners of Yoongi’s mouth as he pulled Jimin closer to him, letting his arm wrap around the younger’s bare shoulder and back.

Jimin stirred in his sleep and his eyes fluttered open when he felt Yoongi press a gentle kiss against his forehead. “Hyung…?”

“Sleep, sunshine.”

Jimin hummed and nuzzled his nose sleepily into Yoongi’s throat. “Hyung?”

“Hm?”

“You know.”

I love you, hyung.

And because of that, Yoongi chuckled. “I know.”

In the corner of my childhood house

A brown piano settled on one side

Yoongi pulled the warm covers over their naked bodies, earning him a satisfied sigh from the younger as Jimin fit himself better insidehis hold. His bed had felt so warm and like home ever since Jimin took residence on the other side of it.

The moment that Jimin had said ‘yes’ and the golden ring fit around his finger, Yoongi’s heart became so full with love and other powerful emotions that he sobbed himself dry in Jimin’s arms. The love they shared that night was like no other. With them whispering their love confessions as if they had never heard them before.

That old piano in his childhood home was the start of their relationship, with Jimin’s brown locks mirroring the shade of its mahogany wood, and somehow, Yoongi thought, that the brown piano in his memory was actually Jimin. They were both beautiful and full of melodies, giving Yoongi a dream and a sense of life.

Jimin was his brown piano.

And he was Yoongi’s first and last love.

- fin -