Chapter Text
Taehyung could hear the sounds of thunder echoing in the distance. It wouldn’t be long until the storm hit Daegu with heavy rain and raging wind. He’d seen enough of the storms on his own, watching from his grandparents farm during summers as a kid and now his home under the bridge, to know when it was wiser to stay in. Today as it was, he had to put an extra layer of plastic over the cut out window he’d made in the plywood about a year ago so that the rainwater wouldn’t get in again. It had been harder to keep out since he’d widened the space with a few extra pieces from a local hardware store up the road. He’d had to work for a few months so that he wasn’t starving again after that, but just like always he hadn’t been able to keep the money going for long with it being monsoon season.
With the sounds of the threatening storm rumbling overhead and the sky growing darker he was doing the best he could to use the light that was left from the full moon and streetlamps to finish the mural he’d been working on. The spray paint was leaving cool wisps on his fingertips and the plywood was rough where he’d had to blend the colors. He probably would have splinters by now if his hands weren’t calloused from years as a kid helping on the farm and years as an adult of having to fend for himself and make a lot of the things he needed to get by. Down below him on the sidewalk he could hear a few people talking. A glance showed them to be some locals probably heading home from a pub crawl. They sounded drunk. He had a bad feeling about the way one of them seemed to lag behind, but he brushed it off when they continued on and went back to what he was doing.
A few minutes more and nothing, but thunder rumbling and the hiss of the spray can along with the scritching of his hands on plywood and on concrete then a thud interrupted his work. The plywood rattled and he heard laughter and the grumble of someone clearing their throat behind him.
“What do you think you’re doing here, Taehyung?” He recognized that voice. He'd gone to high school with that voice. The guy was a bully and a jerk before who’d given him a hard time about working on the farm. Now he was even worse a drunken bully with more friends than Taehyung.
“I’m talking to you,” The high school bully snapped banging his hand on the plywood again. Taehyung was so sick of this. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? This was why he waited until night time to do this anyway.
“It looks like I’m painting. You and your friends better get home Hyung. There’s a storm headed in and it’s going to be pretty bad.” Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and turned his back to them resuming his work.
“Maybe you should get home… Oh, wait that’s right you don’t have a home. Your mom and your sister left you behind. Say how is that sister of yours?” The bully jeered again. He'd actually stayed behind, but that wasn't anyone's business except for his and his stepfather's.
“She’s fine. Never mentions you. I do have a home actually, it's a bit small though and I’m sorry but I didn’t order food for everyone I just have ramen and I’d offer you some, but well… if I am going to overnight with someone I kind of want them to have all their parts in the right places and you're kinda wearing your ass on your shoulders Hyung.” He gave a wide grin, shrugged and flipped the paint can in his hand before trying to go back to his mural. Two of the other three guys let out small laughs where one was stupid enough to let out a loud guffaw.
“So he’s funny now is he? The stupid bum thinks he’s a comedian as well as an artist. Look at this trash cluttering up our street. We’d be doing the city a favor cleaning it up.” He said kicking at part of the plywood denting it and taking some of the wet paint off of it on his way back.
“Don’t.” Taehyung warned. He really didn’t want to fight, in spite of the smart ass remarks he made a few moments ago being an invitation for just that.
“Don’t? You going to make us you little bastard? You always were a pain in my ass even in school. What you going to do Tae? None of your fancy friends are around to save you this time.” Tae felt the rough hands on his left arm yanking at his collar and shirt. He gave a slight chuckle and sighed gripping the can and rearing his right arm back. Taehyung swung and the can connected with the other’s jaw and he rolled back down the side of the concrete landing on the sidewalk below. He only had a moment to feel proud of himself before the others were rushing him. He felt the air woosh out of his lungs and winced when he heard the plywood crack; his home, the only one that had felt almost like a real home since before his mom remarried, before he'd left for Seoul to try to attend college only to have to return to help his mother and sister escape his abusive stepfather… they were going to destroy it.
He shoved through them to get free and they followed more concerned with him than anything else. The next swing coming toward him was slow and too high because the man was taller and wider than Taehyung much like his stepfather was. He ducked under the attacker and slid down the hill running the last little bit having to lean backwards to keep himself from flying face first into the concrete sidewalk.
Rain was falling now, creating a wall of water between him and the outside world. He hesitated only for a moment and ran out from the dry haven into the onslaught. A crack of thunder and a flash of lightning confirmed what he already knew. The storm and whatever hell came with it was already here. His boots sloshed and thudded on the wet pavement as he ran, his breath coming in short huffs and spits as he had to breathe around his own exertion and the water streaming out of his hair and down his face. His eyes stung with irritation and the echoes of shouting could be heard faintly through the roar of wind and falling water behind him. They were closer than he’d have liked, but they didn’t know Daegu like he did. They weren't part of the city's soul. He kept running, cutting off to the left, heading for the closest and easiest place he knew to hide… Daegu Rail Yard.
The chain link fence rattled and clanked under his weight as he climbed up and over, but on the other side he lost his footing and landed roughly on his ankle letting out a curse, but still scrambling to his feet when he saw the others coming over the fence as well. They should have given up at that obstacle and he didn’t understand why they hadn’t.
“Get back here you stupid fucking sewer rat!” He heard the one he hadn’t hit from before bellow behind him. No doubt because his friend who’d been hit with the spray can had a cracked or possibly broken jaw right now. Taehyung saw one of the trains being moved on a track close to him, no doubt getting ready to be deployed and he crossed over running head long to that track and trying to reach it and hobble his way across before the train did. Taehyung only just made it luckily not getting his feet caught anywhere with the awkward hobbling though he hadn’t been the only one to make it across, but his odds were more even now. That was until a pipe clanked on the shipping container beside him narrowly missing his head.
He ducked at another attempt and ran, the adrenaline making him forget his ankle injury and giving him a second wind. He twisted around turns and corners by memory because by now it had become almost completely black around them rain still pouring down, no street lamps to light the way. The only thing giving away anyone’s location were the random flashes of light from the storm itself.
Taehyung kept running hitting a hill of loose gravel and sliding. The gravel rolled with him and caused enough of a rise for him to get over the lip of an open shipping container pain raked on his hip and arms as he bumbled over the metal rises and divots until suddenly it was smooth and there was light everywhere around him that he had to close his eyes for fear of going blind from the difference. A low squeaking of the rubber of his shoes trying to find purchase was followed by a dull wooden thump and he felt himself come to an abrupt stop.
When he opened his eyes they were met with a cream colored ceiling etched with crown molding on the edges and dark reddish wood signalling the top of a set of double doors and he scrambled to get himself upright. The door. He had to block it before that asshole followed him in. He stood and turned around only to watch as his former would be assailant passed right by the window. He was obviously livid and cursing, but otherwise didn’t seem to notice the… whatever this place was hiding in the shipping container right in front of him. Didn’t even seem to notice the light on his face.
“What the hell?” He muttered waving a hand in front of the window to receive no response. He can’t even see me. He thought watching as the guy cursed, kicked at the puddle of mud and gravel accumulating in the container, and stomped his way back out. Taehyung had managed to escape He let out a celebratory shout and jumped up in the air having forgotten about his ankle until he landed on it again.
“Fuck. ow. Okay that was stupid, now where am...I?” He trailed off as he heard growling behind him. He turned to see a large dog with red-gold eyes and longer black and orange fur baring its teeth at him and making the racket which was only being echoed by a second dog with light reddish and white fur and heterochromia in its eyes. If he wasn’t going to die today god had a funny way of showing it.
“Who the hell changed the door?!” He heard a loud echoing demand come from somewhere on the upper floor and looked up trying to see where it could have come from eyes only meeting the low ceiling above and The corner of a spiral staircase peeping out over the bookshelf. The flat cream colored ceiling rippled like water the longer he stared at it. There was more to this place, but with the dogs right here he didn't have time to figure out why or how he seemed to know that what he was seeing wasn't actually what was there. Even the dogs for as real as their teeth and hot breaths were didn't seem right to him. The roof seemed to give one final ripple then it and the walls of the shop were expanded outward revealing an incredible library. Gilded details and murals books and shelves farther than he could even see into the place. Open spaces with glass cases and all kinds of things with various colors and shapes. It would have been amazing and he wanted to look further, but for one problem… the owner still hadn't called their dogs off.
Could it be that this was someone's home? What Would it be like to live like this? Have all of this and not have to share with anyone? He found himself wondering and yet he couldn't imagine. What was this place that only mere moments before it had looked like a one room shop not too much bigger than his family's old apartment. He heard creaking on the stairs and his mind was brought back to the reality of his situation. He was trespassing in someone else's home.
“Look I didn’t mean any trouble,”he called out. He waited for a response and when there wasn’t one he tried again.
“Nice dogs. Good dogs. Go on now, please. I’m not going to hurt anything… I… Hell I don’t even know how I got here. Excuse me, if you could just call your dogs off I’ll be out of here in a second.” He said wincing when he heard the thunder crack through the large building. He couldn’t believe that even a large place like this shook under the roaring sounds and really couldn’t believe it when part of the ceiling itself looked to be open and letting rain and lightning in to destroy everything. It almost distracted him from the sharp teeth inches from his face… almost.
“What have I told you two about using magic to transfigure yourselves into dogs in the shop? Jesus Chanyeol someone could ride your canine form into battle and Jimin you are about as intimidating as an oversized floor mop. Go away both of you and you better come back on two legs instead of four.” Taehyung heard a deep voice call out, but couldn’t see the face of the man only random tufts of purple hair peeking from open spaces in the bookshelves.
“Sorry about them. Hi, I’m Kim Namjoon. I own this store and you are?” The man finally came around the corner and Taehyung was sure his jaw dropped. This had to easily be the most gorgeous person he’d met.
“Yo- Taehyung. I’m Kim Taehyung, but most people either call me Tae, V, or gutterpup.” He admitted the words tumbling out of his mouth like water. Gutterpup? Really? Of all the things to tell someone that hot and the best you come up with is admitting that you’re Daegu’s local pariah?
“Gutterpup? That’s not something I would want anyone calling me…I think hobo is still nicer than calling someone a gutterpup.” The guy in front of him mused in a language he barely understood to be English. That explained the hair and the eyes at least. He was a foreigner. He had to be, right?
“Uh… Yeah so since that guy who was chasing me is gone I’m just gonna go. I’m sorry about the mud on the floor.” He muttered slipping out of the door he’d come in and back out into what he expected to be the shipping container, but when he looked around he realized… He was home, or at least under the bridge where his home was located.
“What the…” He muttered turning around to see that there was no door behind him only the sheet of rainwater pooling off the side of the overpass. He’d lost his damn mind. It figured. Like his life wasn’t hard enough. He scrambled up the side of the incline and let out a groan when he saw that the plywood walls he’d made were still dented and fractured from the earlier fight. Apparently he hadn’t gone that crazy.
“Guess I’ll go back to the hardware store in the morning.” He muttered walking through the ratty old blanket he called a door and falling onto his futon. It was damp in places from where the cracks in the bridge let water through but he was used to it by now. He just hadn’t been able to quite figure out how to cover over the little building so it didn’t happen yet.
***Namjoon POV***
Namjoon was on the second floor of the shop putting away some of the latest books from the inventory his hair dangling under his head and his shirt riding up a little because the shop was in its slow hours and the magic centering the gravity on the ceiling was a little bit lesser when it didn’t have the constant tread of customers feet to drive it. He was actually having to concentrate to keep himself up here floating books from the cart on the floor and putting them in their proper place as he went along. It sometimes seemed impractical that the shop was like this, but he knew how busy the place could get and when customers were here it proved to be quite worth it.
Everything was quiet and faint stars shown overhead on the ceiling. The shop must be resting in Greece somewhere tonight. The constellations only looked like this in that country. He smiled and went back to shelving his books whistling a faint tune and making sure not to drop anything lest it split into a cascading shower of pages that went all the way to the ground floor and he had to replace it. He could be such a klutz and he hated it. What good was a brilliant mind and all this magic if he couldn’t go one single day without having something break on him? So far nothing had today, but there were still a few more hours left before he called it a night.
He continued his whistling and could faintly hear the other two employees that ran the shop talking and laughing downstairs. It sounded like Jimin was at the checkout counter and Chanyeol was just coming out of the storage room probably just having finished reshelving the overstock and putting some of the new ingredients in their smaller bottles and paper bags from their original containers. He was about to call down to them when a loud crack of thunder sounded from above his feet coming from what had once been the ceilings peaceful view of the Grecian sky. With his focus lost he landed in a hard thump on the carpeted balcony below him only missing the cart by a narrow margin.
“What the f… Who the hell changed the door?!” He shouted coming down the spiraling staircase and heading towards the door in question to change it back and get the ceiling to calm once more.
“Nice dogs. Good dogs. Go on. I’m not going to hurt anything… I… Hell I don’t even know how I got here. Excuse me, if you could just call your dogs off I’ll be out of here in a second!” He heard someone trying to placate his two coworkers and frowned. This was the downside of working with the two shapeshifters. They changed forms whenever they felt like it and usually to prank unsuspecting victims. It didn’t help that Chanyeol had chosen to change into a dog that very closely resembled that of the Stephen King novel. Cujo wasn't it? No, that was a St. Bernard… whatever, he was still an oversized nightmare of a fluffy dog, and from the sound of it if Namjoon didn't do something soon the customer was going to faint.
“What have I told you two about using magic to transfigure yourselves into dogs in the shop? Jesus Chanyeol someone could ride you into battle and Jimin you are about as intimidating as an oversized floor mop. Go away both of you and you better come back on two legs instead of four.” He scolded. He still couldn’t see any of them because he had to work his way around the shelves from where the controls for the door sat beside the staircase. The ceiling went back to a peaceful image of stars and light blue grey clouds illuminated by a soft glow from a half moon and he wound his way around the shelf where the other boy had glued himself to the window sill halfway dangling and trying to get away from the larger of the two dogs. It would have been funny if the kid wasn’t covered in mud, blood, and slowly forming bruises of a red and swelling variety. At the sight of Namjoon the two ‘dogs’ walked away seeming sufficiently proud of themselves.
“Sorry about them. Hi, I’m Namjoon Kim. I own this store and you are?” He introduced himself in English as was usually customary before he knew what language someone spoke. The young man in front of him was soaked to the bone and whatever his original hair color had been before the storm it was now a matted and clumped shade of grayish mud that streaked down and carried across a tan face. He held out his hand anyway then pulled it back when the other recoiled from it, and opted to bow instead, sometimes he forgot that handshakes weren’t customary everywhere since it had been entirely too long since he'd returned to Seoul the last time..
“Yo- Taehyung. I’m Kim Taehyung, but most people either call me Tae, V, or gutterpup.” The kid rushed out nervously. The last word was said in a very broken english because there wasn’t really a Korean equivalent for the word. It seemed strange that someone who seemed to not be accustomed to hearing English would know that word, let alone be around it enough that it was used as his nickname.
“Gutterpup? That’s not something I would want anyone calling me…I think hobo is still nicer than calling someone a gutterpup.” He muttered switching back to the English without thinking too much about it. Namjoon was lost in his own thoughts trying to figure out the likelihood of a town in Korea that would know that word just offhand and the next time he looked up to offer to grab a towel or set up a room for the customer since he’d obviously come from whatever location that had been that was going through that terrible storm he was gone, but once again the storm had returned to the ceiling for a split moment causing Namjoon to jump and a squeak to sound from a now, very thankfully, human Jimin a few feet away from him.
“Did we really run him off?” Jimin questioned looking around. Namjoon gave a very exasperated look his golden eyes narrowing and lips pursing a little. The whereabouts of Chanyeol were revealed a moment later as the overhead ceiling cleared once again.
“Yeah, Chim, I think you did. Chanyeol can you get the mop? We need to get this mess up before the next customer comes in and slips on it. It would be difficult to explain why all this is on the floor if it's sunny outside to the mundane human.” He said looking around to see if anything else was out of place. Everything seemed fine until his eyes landed on a muddy outline on the shelf a few feet in front of the door.
“why the hell are there muddy boot prints on my bookshelf?”
***Taehyung POV***
Taehyung woke up the next day to sore muscles; crackling, dry, mud caked hair; and a cool breeze making the plastic on the inside of the plywood and sketches all over the little one room space rattle. His clothes were still laying on the ground in an ugly greyish brown heap and his pillow cases had gunk all over them too from where he’d slept. So he hadn't imagined going out into the storm or the rail yard. A touch to the swollen part of his lips and right eye revealed very painfully that he hadn't imagined the thugs either.
Then, how the hell had he gotten home? He couldn't remember much of anything after jumping the fence to the rail yard. There was even proof he'd done that in the form of scratches on his hands—permeated with little grey pebbles— and the swelling of his left ankle. The only thing he didn't have an explanation for was the place he'd run into when he'd ducked into that shipping container. They were large, but in no way big enough to house an entire library. That part had to be a dream, didn’t it? Either way it was probably better to just forget it and move on. He thought trying to ignore the very real feeling and smell of dogs' breath on his face and the mesmerizing appearance of the shops' owner, Namjoon. His hair had been a deep wine purple, and his eyes were an almost molten gold color, and that's how Taehyung knew the truth… It was definitely a dream. He couldn't even recall details of his own reflection that clearly and he'd been staring at it off and on for twenty-three years.
Another breeze made its way through the space blowing papers off his cardboard shelves and he let out a groan. He'd almost forgotten about that trying to remember the other things. He was going to have to replace the four boards that had been broken, take his clothes to the laundry, buy food for the next month since he only had three packets of ramen left and pay that money vacuum of a bathhouse for an extra day just so he could shower. After this, he’d only have a month’s worth of grocery money left and that was if he didn’t shower, didn’t do laundry, and didn’t break the boards on his home again. This was already putting him out because the boards would have had another good two or three months in them before the weather took its toll. This was an extra month of food that he could have lasted on before needing to find a job. Now, if he didn’t find a job within the next two weeks he was either going to be homeless again or starve and stink within a two month time period. That was if he didn’t manage to find his way in someone’s bed again, and by way of that a shower and a roof over his head to sleep in, but still no food and even less self respect than he started with.
He went around the small space pulling clean clothes off of the clothes line he had hung up, having to duck so it didn’t catch him more than once. He put those clothes in a bag and threw the dirty clothes back on, then grabbed the sheets off of the couch cushions he’d found and made into a bed and shoved them into the cart he’d bought a few months back before taking it outside and hooking it to his bicycle and heading in the direction of the bathhouse.
It was still early so there weren’t many of the normal customers there and that is probably why the woman at the front desk let him in instead of throwing him out on his mud caked ear.
“7000W,” She said flatly though the pinched set of her lips gave away that she highly doubted he had it and would enjoy nothing more than having to turn him away for a more sophisticated customer. He handed her the money and she gave him a key and pointed in the direction of the locker room and the showers. He wanted to tell her that he knew because he came in here often enough, but in the end didn’t waste his breath, taking himself and his bags back to the locker room and swapping his current clothes for the bath house attire and shower sandals so that he could at least make it to the showers without anymore strange looks.
Once in the showers he let out a relaxed sigh at the feeling of hot water soothing his aching muscles and clearing away the caked on dirt that he'd gotten into the night before. He was careful to rinse every bit off before trying to scrub and wash his hair and body.. His black-brown hair dangled a little in his face when it was fully rinsed out. His ankle was still sore and all of the cuts were stinging and burning from him scrubbing them clean. Some even began to bleed a little bit but he'd get over it. He'd had worse.
Afterwards he walked back out and thanked the woman at the reception desk who chose to ignore him and continued reading her magazine. He shrugged it off. Most people ignored him anyway.
"What's next?" He asked no one in particular when he stepped out into the sunny day feeling cleaner and freer than he had when he went in. He was of course still limping, but the hospital was a luxury he couldn't afford right now.
"Laundromat it is." He muttered turning the bicycle and cart in the direction he needed. The hardware store was only a block from the laundromat so while his clothes and sheets got washed he was going to pick up the plywood and supplies from there then probably go and pick up what little food he could to stave off hunger for that much longer.
"Hi Taehyung. Time to replace the plywood you bought already? I wasn't expecting you for another month." The hardware store owner Mr. Lee asked. He was one of the few people that knew Taehyung's circumstances and didn't look down on him for it. He actually helped as much as he could without community backlash, but that only did so much and they both knew it.
"Yeah I had an unexpected set back." He replied and winced when he smiled too wide. His hat was hiding the black eye, but it didn't do much to hide the limp or the busted lip so he tried to keep his head down.
"Who was it this time?"
"Some guy and his brother and their jackass friends." He said grabbing some plywood in the size he needed going as far to get three more pieces and some tarp. He hated spending the extra money but he'd gotten fed up with the water leaking everywhere and the extra space couldn't hurt. He'd already been planning to do this anyway, it was just that the damage sped it up.
"You sure you can afford all this?" Mr. Lee asked.
"Yeah, I'm going to be job hunting again tomorrow and I need to know my clothes aren't going to be soaked if it rains again." He told the elder.
“Do you need help putting it together? I can have Younghyun watch the shop and be there in a few minutes.” Mr. Lee offered clearly having noticed the injuries in spite of Taehyung’s attempt to hide them.
“I’m fine. Besides I have to get groceries when I leave here so I don’t want you to have to wait.” He dismissed and hobbled his way quickly out of the door after paying before the elder could protest any more.
After he was finished and his laundry was back in his possession he’d gone home and started to rebuild not finishing until well after dark, but in some stroke of good luck just before it had started to rain again. He was inside when he heard the water dripping on the tarp covered plywood he’d put in place and managed a satisfied smile. Things may have taken a wrong turn, but at least he'd have a dry home. Maybe things we're looking up. Now if only he could take care of his rumbling stomach.