Archive of Our Own ^beta

DAY ONE

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. He groaned and pulled the covers up over his head to block out the light. Surely it was too early? His eyelids felt heavy still and he struggled to open them under the safety of the covers. 

Staring at the grey material and the spots where the light shone through he heard movement beyond his bedroom door. 

“Urgh,” he huffed. 

Knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep - shouldn’t either, really , with early dance practice looming - he sat up, kicking his covers away. The alarm clock blinked 7:13. Definitely too early. Yoongi cursed whoever it was that was making such a racket before chucking on some joggers and an oversized t-shirt and shuffling into the kitchen. 

Seokjin and Hoseok were there already, chatting quietly across the island, and Yoongi grunted a good morning to them. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok was saying earnestly, “but if you went backwards, you’d end up cancelling out your own existence, you know you would.”

“Excuse me, no I would not,” Seokjin raised a hand to his chest, looking outraged. “I’m very competent at sneaking around. So good at it, you don’t even know it.”

“Sure, sure. Yoongi, what do you think? If you could time travel, would you go to the future, or to the past? I reckon the future, because that would be cool, to see all the flying cars and shit. If you went far enough, you wouldn’t have to worry about meeting yourself -”

“Who ate all my cereal?” Yoongi dropped his bowl onto the table with a scowl. He’d barely been listening to what Hoseok was saying. The other man had a surprised expression on his face like he hadn’t expected Yoongi to be so grumpy this early. “Who ate it all and then put the empty box back in the cupboard?” Yoongi asked again, voice a little loud and sharp even to his own ears. 

“I don’t know,” Hoseok replied, pouting before shoving more toast in his mouth. Next to him, Seokjin just shrugged. 

“Shit.”

“It’s just cereal, Yoongi,” Seokjin said, not hiding the chuckle in his voice, even when Yoongi scowled harder. The stupid man never took his threats seriously. “Have some of mine.”

As Yoongi relented and went to take down the other box - with fruit in, who had fruit this early in the morning? - Namjoon strolled in with Taehyung at his heels. One glance at the younger and Yoongi knew they were in for a day of it. The guy was grinning from ear to ear, a spring in his step and a song in his heart, no doubt. Ugh, and he couldn’t reach the stupid box. Why did Seokjin have to be so tall? What kind of heartless curr would put anything on the top shelf? What had Yoongi ever done to him?

“Here,” Namjoon started, coming to his rescue and reaching for the box over his shoulder. 

“So cute, Hyung,” Taehyung teased as he headed towards the toaster. 

Yoongi jabbed a spoon in his general direction. “Shut it. I’ll slice you open and hang your entrails from the ceiling, as a warning to others.”

A heavy sigh sounded behind him and he heard Namjoon lament, “What a lovely image over breakfast.” The others laughed and Yoongi sent him a satisfied smile as he brought his bowl over next to him.  

“Hey, Taehyung, if you could travel in time would you …”

He tuned out the rest of the conversation, instead mentally trying to sort through the day ahead. What he really wanted was to get some hours in at the studio. In the past few weeks he’d been low on inspiration. At times like this he usually found that if he just sat down and concentrated long enough, something happened. Maybe not magic, but something salvageable. Once dance practice was out of the way they had some design meeting to attend, though. Could he skip that? The look on Namjoon’s face said no, as he nudged him to hurry up. 

“Come on,” he urged as the other’s began to scatter. 

Yoongi slurped the soggy dregs at the bottom of his bowl and made a beeline towards the bathroom. 

“Sorry, Hyung!” a blur he thought was Jimin all but yelled at him, cutting past him and slamming the door in his face. Yoongi blinked for a second before he heard the shower start to run. 

“Hey!” he called, banging on the door. 

“There’s, like, two other bathrooms, Yoongi. Take your pick,” Seokjin said, walking behind him.

Finding himself scowling again, he muttered, a little impotently, “Not the point, though. He does this every time.”

Seokjin clicked his tongue in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way, which, for some reason, riled Yoongi even more. 

“Whatever,” he huffed, before heading to the next nearest bathroom.

Unsurprisingly, dance practice did little to improve his mood. Jeongguk was already at the studio, sweating and breathing heavily, just like he did before every comeback they’d ever had. Yoongi had almost given up warning him about overdoing it, it seemed like it went in one ear and out the other. 

The routine they were working on for the lead track was particularly fiendish, with one part near the end where Seokjin had to hold Hoseok’s weight before sliding back into the choreography. All Yoongi could think was that he was glad he wasn’t doing it. 

After the fifth time they’d attempted it and Seokjin had started on the wrong foot again, Hoseok called for a break. 

“Tough one, huh? It’s going to look so cool, though,” Jimin slid onto the floor next to him. He was preoccupied narrowing his eyes at Hoseok and Jeongguk bodily move Seokjin into place. Namjoon looked on from the sidelines, trying to copy the movements on his own. “Hyung? Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin whined when Yoongi ignored him. 

Yoongi sniffed, “No, I’m not talking to you today, Jimin.”

“What? Why?” Jimin said, affronted. 

“You know why.”

“Ah,” Jimin rolled his eyes. “You just need to be quicker in the mornings. Survival of the fittest.”

Before Yoongi could lodge his defence, Taehyung did it for him. “Yoongi’s fit,” he rushed, looming over the pair of them. A bright flush stained his cheeks when Jimin wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Thank you, Taehyung,” Yoongi said, taking pity on the poor guy. It was bizarre the things he still got embarrassed about. “At least someone respects me.”

“Yeah,” Jimin scoffed. “Very respectful.”

Yoongi frowned when Taehyung kicked Jimin’s shin, a little too hard to be simply playful. “Don’t tease me,” he said, pouting. What was that about? Yoongi wondered, eyes flicking between the pair and coming up short. He’d grill Taehyung about it tomorrow, maybe. The other guy never held out long against him, he had a weakness for Yoongi that the older man was not ashamed to make full use of. 

“Alright, up and at ‘em,” Hoseok called. 

A collective groan echoed around the studio as they all shuffled back into starting position. 

Three hours later and Yoongi was drenched. Thinking longingly of his bed, or the nice comfy chair in his studio, he pushed through the choreography until the last note of the song faded away, replaced with just their panting breath. Immediately, Namjoon jogged over to his bag.

“Still having trouble with that landing, Hyung,” Taehyung said, lightly. Yoongi didn’t see Seokjin’s reaction, too busy trying not to keel over, but it must have been something, as Taehyung immediately started back peddling. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean -”

“No, I know, it’s -” Seokjin sighed, now with Yoongi and the other’s paying much more attention. He looked as tired as Yoongi felt. “Comeback is so close, I should’ve gotten it by now.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” came a brusk voice. 

Yoongi turned slowly, along with everyone else in the room, as Jeongguk huffed, bright eyes glaring at Seokjin. 

“Jeongguk,” Namjoon called out.

A tense quiet filled the room. Jeongguk hadn’t said a thing all session, which wasn’t that strange within itself. But snapping like that? Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever heard that from the younger, especially not to Seokjin. 

“No, it’s - He’s right,” Seokjin said. “Though, Jeongguk, perhaps shouting it at me in front of everyone wasn’t the best way to let me know your concerns?” The look on his face didn’t quite cover the anger beneath. 

Jeongguk - who’d been holding Seokjin’s gaze rather impressively up to that point - looked away. He mumbled something that Yoongi couldn’t hear and stormed out of the room. 

“Woah,” Hoseok whistled, as the door slammed shut. “What’s up with him?”

“He’s just stressed, I think,” Taehyung mumbled. 

“He can join the queue,” Seokjin snapped. 

“Shall I go talk to him?”

“Do what you want,” Yoongi groaned. He was too knackered for this, really, and Jeongguk knew better. Let him stew, he thought, it might do him some good. Taehyung worried his bottom lip for a while longer before scurrying out of the room.

“We can go over it a little more if you want, Hyung?” Hoseok added while Namjoon and Yoongi packed up around him. “We’ve got a while until our meeting,” he sounded a little hesitant in his words, but Seokjin sent him a resigned shrug. 

“Might as well.”

Halfway to the door, Namjoon grimaced, “I probably need to stay, too, but I’ve got this meeting with the producers. I’m sorry -”

“You’re fine,” Hoseok dismissed. “Just practice that spin out leading into the chorus. Go get your collab signed off.” He sent a wink to Namjoon, who ducked his head before vanishing from sight. 

“You staying, Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, casually. 

If Yoongi had been in a better mood, or if the practice had gone well, he might have said yes - a part of his brain told him that it was really because of those things that he should stay - but he was tired and hungry and Seokjin would be fine for an hour. It wasn’t like he was feeding him to the wolves, for God’s sake. 

“Nah,” he croaked. “Might order some food in for the meeting later though.”

“There’s no disagreement fried chicken can’t solve,” Seokjin replied, wryly. Yoongi decided to ignore the slightly wistful look on his face, however, as he watched Yoongi leave. 

~

True to his word several bags of fast food turned up in the meeting room as the design team set up around them. When Seokjin and Hoseok burst in five minutes after the meeting was technically supposed to start, Seokjin beamed at Yoongi, making a grab for the bag Yoongi had reserved just for him.

“Ah, you’re a good dongsaeng. Anyone says otherwise, you send them to me.”

“Who’s saying otherwise?” Yoongi mumbled around a mouthful of fries. 

In the corner, Jeongguk sat next to Jimin, though still somewhat removed from the pack. He’d politely refused the food that Yoongi had offered him and Yoongi should’ve known. With television performances looming it was unusual for any of them to be eating such greasy food without complaint, but Yoongi figured it was a strange day. Plus, Taehyung had been delighted, so he couldn’t regret it. 

Thankfully the meeting was uneventful. In fact, hardly anybody seemed to be paying attention, Yoongi noticed. Jimin and Hoseok were both tapping away at their phones at either end of the room. Seokjin had a slightly glazed look about him. Namjoon was nodding in all the right places, but the way he was tying the paper bag in front of him in knots said otherwise. Yoongi couldn’t even see Jeongguk’s eyes under his hat. All at once, he felt the need to ask a carefully considered, in-depth, appreciative question to these people that had spent months designing their album covers for them, all too aware that he hadn’t been paying attention to what they’d been saying up to that point either. Shit. He’d have a word with the members, they’d do better tomorrow. 

There was a lull in the designers' presentation where everyone around the table shifted as if they’d all realised the same thing at once. 

Only Taehyung lent forward. 

“So, the different colours represent the different stages of the night? That’s so cool. It fits so well with the feeling of the songs, doesn’t it?” he turned to Yoongi, who nodded. “But, like, it’s still different from the photoshoots. Like the opposite.”

“Yes,” one of the designers - a tall woman, maybe only a few years older than them - smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Packing away, the room managed to empty in the blink of an eye. Namjoon hurried away, bag slung over one shoulder and headphones curled awkwardly around his neck as he tried to balance his phone, notebook and water bottle in his hands. Jeongguk looked very much like he was trying to disapparate rather than work his way around the room, though Jimin succeeded in shoving his shoulder for long enough that he began to move. 

“Jimin, wait up,” Hoseok called. 

If Yoongi hadn’t have been looking directly at Jimin at the time, he might have assumed that Jimin didn’t hear. Instead, though, he saw Jimin’s expression drop, eyes on Hoseok as he continued to march Jeongguk out of the room. 

Jesus, Yoongi thought. Is everyone pissed with everyone today?

Hoseok’s shoulders fell and he headed towards the door at a slower pace until Seokjin sidled next to him, offering him some leftover fries. Yoongi could hear them chatting down the corridor. Maybe Seokjin would get the answer out of him.

Making to leave himself, Yoongi turned on his heel at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. At least Taehyung wasn’t mad at anyone, or stressed to the point of lashing out. When Taehyung was upset, Yoongi always felt like all the happiness had been drained from the world, and that was definitely something that would tip him over the edge today. 

“Ah, Hyung,” Taehyung continued, a strangely shy smile on his face.

“Yeah?”

“See you later?” 

Yoongi sent him a bemused shrug. “It’d be a miracle if you didn’t,” he said and was somewhat baffled as Taehyung started to grin. 

“You don’t fool me, you know,” he chortled. “All this, ‘If I see you, I see you’ stuff. I’ve got your number Min Yoongi.” 

He jabbed Yoongi lightly in the chest as he passed him coming out of the room, before pressing a fingertip to his nose. Yoongi sighed, not hiding the dumb smile creeping onto his face. 

“You’re a weirdo, Kim Taehyung,” he shouted after the other man, who was by then running down the hall away from him. Taehyung turned and gave an exaggerated wave as he sailed through a set of double doors and out of sight. 

Later that afternoon, after he’d swung by an oddly quiet dorm to change his clothes and grab is iPad that he’d forgotten in the rush that morning, he settled down into his studio chair and took a few moments to shut his eyes.

It had been an unsettling day so far. It wasn’t unusual for them to be feeling the pressure before a comeback, but they did tend to manage it without pissing each other off in the process usually. Yoongi groaned and stretched his arms up above his head. 

Perhaps, if people were still antsy tomorrow, he’d have a word with Namjoon to pull together some kind of group meeting. Today, though, he’d much prefer to avoid everyone else and stay holed up with his music for the rest of the afternoon. 

With that in mind, he pulled up the track he’d been working on and hit play.

A mere two minutes in, someone knocked on the door. 

Yoongi tapped the space bar and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the door. Which idiot was interrupting him this early on? Everyone knew he had studio time this afternoon, he’d even said as much in dance practice. What fool -

“Yoongi-hyung?”

Namjoon’s voice was muffled by the glass. Yoongi relaxed a little in his chair. Namjoon wasn’t so bad. At least he knew when to sit back and shut up. 

With a weary sigh, he shuffled to the door, making a show of opening it just a sliver and peering out.

“Not today, thank you,” he croaked.

“Ah,” Namjoon stuck his foot in the gap. Yoongi pouted up at him. “I thought you might say that, but,” he trailed off, crinkling his nose. 

“But what?” Yoongi monotoned. 

“How about I listen to your new tracks? Peer review time.”

“Don’t peer reviews happen once something’s published?”

Namjoon let out a groan. “Just, let me in.”

“Fine.” Yoongi retreated into the studio, letting the door swing open behind him. He heard Namjoon follow him in with a clatter. “You need a place to hide?” he asked, eyebrow raised. It wasn’t unusual for Namjoon or Hoseok to drop into the studio, or vice-versa, but Yoongi hadn’t been lying earlier. They did usually save such group sessions for when they had more solid tracks to go over. 

“No.”

Namjoon smiled, too brightly. In the silence, Yoongi could read Namjoon’s desire to talk. Tomorrow, he thought. Another one for tomorrow. Maybe he’d draw up a list before going to sleep, ‘All the People that Need to Learn to Communicate Better’. He smiled to himself. He’d need to be top of that list, for sure. Still. Tomorrow. “Okay.”

“Let’s hear it then.” Namjoon nodded toward the monitor. 

With a shrug, Yoongi pressed play.

It didn’t take long for Namjoon to settle into a position on the small sofa, laid out, scrolling through his phone. It didn't bother Yoongi, who managed to ignore him with practised ease, but he did begin to wonder a little more about why he was there. Namjoon was always so careful to show outwards confidence and togetherness, that this - even if not explicit - was unnerving in a day that already had Yoongi’s hackles raised. 

When a second knock sounded against the door, Yoongi was surprised to look up at the clock and find that it was so much later. He’d been in the studio for almost five hours. Turning to the sofa, he spotted Namjoon, sound asleep against the cushions. 

Groaning, he stretched out, joints popping, and went to investigate. 

“Jimin?” he questioned. The younger man was hunched over, looking into the studio from beneath a heavy hood. 

“Hi,” he replied, licking his lips. “Can I come in?”

Yoongi shifted on the spot. “I’m in the middle of a track.”

“Yeah, I know. I just - I wanted your opinion on something.” Jimin’s eyes flicked across Yoongi’s face. Internally, Yoongi grimaced. It would be nothing, it was always nothing. The younger man tended to need reassurance for the simplest things. Hoseok would be able to help - no, wasn’t it Hoseok he was mad at? Seokjin, then. One of them could deal with it just fine. Yoongi wasn’t needed for this. 

“Look, can it wait?” he mumbled. “I’ll be back at the dorm later.”

“I wanted to, you know, talk just to you.”

Yoongi grabbed onto the opportunity. “Oh, well, Namjoon’s here.”

In that second, though, a sleepy-looking Namjoon squeezed past. “Don’t worry. I’m leaving,” he said, voice rough. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Hey,” Jimin nodded, a little distracted. His eyes landed on Yoongi once more. “Hyung?”

“Sorry, Jimin. It’s not a great time.”

“I -” Yoongi could feel the disappointment in his bones, but Jimin would get over it. He always did. “Right, okay.”

“Later,” Yoongi said, half-heartedly.

As Jimin remained standing at the edge of the studio for a moment too long to be altogether comfortable, Namjoon tugged at his sleeve. “Come on, Jimin. We can head back together.”

Yoongi squirmed.

“Sure,” Jimin said, eventually. “I’ll - I’ll see you later, then.”

“Uh-huh,” Yoongi mumbled after them, the door already closing and blocking them from view. 

Jimin’s worries, along with whatever was troubling Namjoon, joined Jeongguk’s anger and Seokjin’s anxiety in the back of his mind. Now he was alone, truly alone, he could focus. He drew closer to his desk and got to it.

~

It was dark by the time he returned to the dorm, attempting to shuffle off his shoes as quietly as possible, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d missed dinner and pangs of hunger stabbed at his stomach. It was worth it, though. Now he had three finished tracks ready to submit to the higher-ups. 

As he entered the dorm, he caught sight of Seokjin in his room at the far end of the corridor. Though the small opening of the door, it didn’t take Yoongi more than a second to realise the other man was going through the choreography. Again. 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, even as he heard Seokjin softly swear to himself and start again.

There was movement in the kitchen and he muttered a tired ‘hello’ as he crossed the floor to the fridge. There was a smoothie with his name on it in there. 

“Hey, Hyung.”

Yoongi poked his head around the fridge door. Hoseok’s voice was missing its usual bounce.

“Hobi,” he said. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Hoseok replied, voice strained. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, a large glass of water in his hand, a pillow under his arm, and duvet draped over his back, trailing along the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but Hoseok shook his head. Instead, he vanished in the direction of the living room, his duvet robe dragging as he went. 

Yoongi uncapped his smoothie and stood by Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk at the dining table. 

“What the heck is going on with Hobi?” he asked, eyes still trained on the other man as he dumped his pillow on the sofa in the next room. 

“Maybe if you’d been here, you would know,” Jimin replied, archly. 

Yoongi snapped his head towards the three of them. “What?” he said, but Jimin just shrugged. It was only then that he noticed Taehyung, in the middle, gazing down at his hands, sniffing a little. “You as well?” he blurted out. “Something’s in the water today. What’s up?”

No response was forthcoming. 

“Taehyung?” The other man just shrugged. His eyes were red-rimmed and Yoongi felt a stab of something in his chest. “No, come on. What?” Yoongi continued, anxious to hear Taehyung talk.

When the other man stayed quite still, Yoongi shifted under the glares of both Jimin and Jeongguk. Fuck this, he thought. Fuck them and their judgement. “Oh, for God’s - Are you stressed as well?” he fumed. He stepped closer to the table and Taehyung reared back, his eyes wide, as if he had expected Yoongi to leave. “Are you feeling delicate?” he sneered, taking some perverse joy in getting to speak so horridly. “Wake up, Taehyung. We’re all stressed. Seokjin, Namjoon, they’ve got responsibilities. Not like you lot. You’ve got it easy, you’ve no idea.”

Yoongi took a breath, almost shocked by his own words. 

“I’m not stressed,” Taehyung said, unnaturally quiet and small. He didn’t look Yoongi in the eyes.

“No?” Yoongi folded his arms. “What’s the problem, then?”

Silence.

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Grow up, alright? You’re not special.”

Even as he heard Jimin’s gasp, saw Jeongguk flinch, watched Taehyung’s eyes fill once more, he couldn’t stop the frustration that had built up inside of him. He couldn’t release it any other way. It was all overflowing, and Taehyung was getting washed away.

“Sure, Hyung,” Taeyhyung said, after a moment, voice thick. He blinked. “Message received. You don’t care about what I’m feeling.”

Shit. Fucking, shit. “No,” Yoongi groaned. “Don’t do that. Don’t twist it.”

A tear fell down Taehyung’s cheek and he was quick to wipe it away. “What do you want me to - I don’t - Fine,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me.”

Before Yoongi could respond, before he could even think about how he wanted to respond, Taehyung’s chair screeched against the floor and he stalked past Yoongi’s shoulder towards his room. 

“Nice one, Yoongi,” Jimin growled as he followed Taehyung out, Jeongguk skulking behind him. 

Left alone in the room, Yoongi shrugged. “Whatever,” he said to nobody. “Fucking drama.”

His anger hadn’t left him by the time he settled into bed, pulling the covers over himself more violently than necessary. He didn’t think about Seokjin struggling through his choreography, he didn’t think about Hoseok banished from his room, he didn’t think about Namjoon burdened and anxious, he didn’t think about Jimin plagued by nameless worries, he didn’t think about Jeongguk running himself ragged, and he certainly didn’t think about Taehyung red-faced and voice breaking. 

~

DAY TWO

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. He took a moment to recover from the shock. In that time, all of the trauma of yesterday came flooding back through his body, settling like a heavyweight in his stomach. They had a photo shoot today, but it was still early, only 7:13. He really didn’t need to leave his room for at least another hour. Even as he thought it, his mother’s voice floated in his head, ‘It’ll only fester, Yoongi, if you don’t do something about it’. 

With a sigh, he pushed his covers away and reached for the discarded clothes on the floor. As he pulled on the t-shirt, he paused, arms trapped in the sleeves. He wore this top yesterday. He could’ve sworn he’d chucked it in the laundry. Great. Now he could add losing his memory to this list of problems he had to address. 

Seokjin and Hoseok were sat at the kitchen table looking surprisingly perky, Yoongi thought.

“Sofa alright?” he mumbled, interrupting their quiet conversation. He reached for his cereal before remembering that they’d run out. He clicked his tongue, frowning at the empty box. He’d thrown this away. He definitely had. He’d had to press down on all the stuff the recycling to fit it in. 

He went through the motion again. As he stared, baffled, at the pile of cardboard, Hoseok asked, “Sofa?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi pulled his eyes away and jumped to grab Seokjin’s cereal from the shelf. “Didn’t give you a sore neck?”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know, it’s not designed to be slept on.”

Hoseok pulled a confused face. “I didn’t sleep on the sofa, Hyung.”

“You didn’t - Oh,” Yoongi frowned. “Alright.”

“You okay, Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, eyeing Yoongi a little suspiciously. 

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi responded, shoving cereal into his mouth. Maybe his argument with Taehyung affected him more than he thought. It was probably just the comeback, making him more absentminded than usual.

Thankfully, the two shrugged it off. “Hey, Hyung,” Hoseok started. “If you could time travel, would you go to the future, or to the past? I reckon the future, because that would be cool, to see all the flying cars and shit. If you went far enough, you wouldn’t have to worry about meeting yourself. Maybe you’d meet your great-great-grandkids or something, but they wouldn’t know anything.”

Yoongi blinked. This was weird. This was definitely weird.

“Are you pranking me?” he said, a little dumbly.

Hoseok let out a laugh. “Er, no?”

Next to him, Seokjin set down his spoon, leaning over the table towards his. “Are you sure you’re okay, Yoongi?” he said, narrowing his eyes as if examining Yoongi. 

“Yeah, maybe not,” Yoongi said, slowly, pushing his bowl away. “I think - I’ll just go have a shower.”

“Don’t be too long,” Seokjin yelled after him. “We’ve got to leave for practice in, like, ten minutes.”

Yoongi stopped in his tracks. “What?” he rushed, spinning on the spot and rushing back to the kitchen.

“Er,” Seokjin glanced at Hoseok. “Practice. Dance practice.”

“No, it’s the photoshoot today.”

“No, that’s tomorrow.”

Ignoring the bemused expressions of Seokjin and Hoseok, he barrelled back to his room. He passed Namjoon and Taehyung on his way, trying not to panic when Taehyung called out, “That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen you move in the morning, Hyung!”

Launching himself across the bed, he pulled his phone from the charger. Tuesday, 26 March. But - But, it was Tuesday yesterday. He sat on his bed, trying not to freak out. Maybe - Maybe he just imagined it all. Could that have happened? He knew the schedule, he knew the other members well enough, maybe he just dreamt it with a strange amount of accuracy. He bit his lip, his foot tapping underneath his thigh. Or, maybe - Maybe he was going mad. 

He could hear the others talking in the kitchen still and took a breath. Whatever it was, a strange dream, a vision of the future, or the first warnings of a breakdown, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He would just have to get through it all again. No, he corrected himself. For the first time.

After getting ready for practice (Jimin beat him to the bathroom, just like yesterday, but Yoongi studiously did not read anything into it) the others had kept an eye on Yoongi a little more than usual, but he could barely bring himself to care. He had changed his clothes since the morning, feeling a little better that the day was not exactly the same. The longer practice went on for, however, the lower his heart sank.

“Tough one, huh? It’s going to look so cool, though,” Jimin said. Yoongi couldn’t reply, just stared at where Hoseok and Jeongguk were helping Seokjin. “Aw, come on,” Jimin whined. “You’re not ignoring me because of the bathroom thing? You just need to be quicker in the mornings. Survival of the fittest.”

“Shut up! Just, shut up!” Jimin and Taehyung both startled at his outburst, the others turning immediately to the source of the noise. “Is this a prank?” Yoongi half begged. “Seriously, if it is, you have to tell me, I’m freaking out.”

“Is what a prank?” Namjoon replied, eyes wide.

“This!” Yoongi burst out. “Today. We’ve done this already! Breakfast, the dance. We’re doing the same thing.”

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief at his words. “Obviously,” Jeongguk drawled from the back. “And we need to do it some more if it’s going to actually be right. We’re still messing up.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Yoongi ploughed on, as Seokjin’s mouth opened to respond. “I mean this literal day, I’ve done it before.”

“I get it, it feels like we do the same thing all the time, but it’ll get better once the album’s released,” Taehyung said, gently. “How about we plan a day trip, after comeback?”

Namjoon hummed. “That’s a great idea, Taehyung.”

Yoongi almost tore his hair out, groaning into his hands.

“You don’t have to come, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin said, looking a little offended.

“How about we leave it there for now?” Hoseok called, voice echoing around the studio, perhaps spotting the lost look in Yoongi’s eyes. “You seem a little off today, Hyung. Can I help?”

“No. No, I -” All the energy had drained from his body. He almost felt like crying. What the hell was happening to him? “I think I’m just going to call in at the doctors.”

Namjoon nodded. “Skip the meeting later,” he said, clapping Yoongi’s shoulder. “We’ll cover it.”

“I’ll still see you later, though?” Taehyung asked, expression concerned. He was pulling a bag over his shoulder, his voice a still point in the sudden blur of movement around him as everyone gathered their things.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll see you,” Yoongi muttered, already scrolling through his phone. He waited until everyone had gone before hitting call.

“Hi, can I see Doctor Jhang, please?” 

“Absolutely, she’s available tomorrow at three-thirty?”

Yoongi rang a finger across his bottom lip, letting out a wavering laugh. “Er - Could it be today?”

~

In the neat, sterile room, Doctor Jhang smiled pleasantly at him. Their manager was waiting for him in the car and Yoongi knew that he’d made people nervous. It would be great if he could just get some pills, wake up tomorrow, and forget this all happened. He doesn’t have time for this nonsense. 

“What seems to be the problem?” the doctor said, her voice soft and gentle.

Yoongi was caught in the headlights for a moment. How to phrase it? “I’m - I’m going mad.”

“Alright,” Jhang said, crossing her legs as if Yoongi has simply commented on the weather. “What makes you think so?”

“I’ve lived the same day twice.”

“Your days have become repetitive?” Jhang nodded. “Okay, so you think the lack of variation is causing you some stress?”

Yoongi grimaced. “No, it’s not like - I’m not talking about how it feels like every day is the same. I mean that yesterday was Tuesday and today, I woke up and it was Tuesday again.” 

Jhang pursed her lips, seemingly in thought. “You’re missing time? Okay, well that’s quite serious, Mr Min.”

“No, I’m not -” Yoongi rushed, raising his palms. “I remember everything. I mean, I woke up this morning and I knew what was going to happen, because it had all happened before, that exact way.”

He took a few quick breaths, waiting to be laughed out of the room. Jhang did look perplexed. She spun in her chair and typed on her computer for a moment, before rolling closer to Yoongi. “I - Alright. What - Hm.”  

Yoongi slumped. “You don’t believe me.”

“I believe what you’re saying to me,” Jhang said, softly. “We just need to find out why you’re saying it. Have you been under any particular stress recently?

“I don’t know. I don’t -” he started, running a hand through his hair. “Work’s been busy, but that’s pretty normal. Everyone - Everyone’s been kinda tightly wound. I suppose it was a shitty day the first time around. Maybe my brain -” He leant forward, elbows on his knees. “Maybe this is a hallucination. I’m asleep, that’s probably it. I’m asleep right now and my brain is just trying to reconcile … stuff,” he trailed off. He raised his eyes to the doctor, who was nodding, lightly. 

“I’m fairly sure this is not a hallucination, Mr Min. But perhaps - I’ll book you in for some scans. Maybe there is something disrupting your sleeping habits, causing you strain in waking hours.”

Of course. Yoongi didn’t know why he’d thought otherwise. Nobody would believe him. He wouldn’t believe himself. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wasn’t going completely insane. 

“What would you do?” he asked, eventually, cocking his head a little. “If you lived the same day twice?” 

To her credit, Doctor Jhang seemed to consider the question. “Make the most of it. Correct any mistakes I’d made.” She chuckled. “Make sure I don’t spill coffee down my shirt at the morning meeting.”

Yoongi sat back in his seat. “Yeah,” he said. “Sounds right.”

~

Back at the dorm Yoongi was getting tired of the overwhelming sense of deja vu. Walking into the kitchen, Hoseok was once again wrapped in his duvet. He brightened when he spotted Yoongi approach. 

“Hyung,” he remarked. “How’d it go? You haven’t been at the doctor’s all this time?”

He hadn’t. After leaving the surgery, Yoongi had figured that he’d at least use his time effectively and headed back to the studio. It had panned out much like the day before, bar the fact that Yoongi’s progress was much speedier. If anything good came out of this psychotic break, at least he now had five new songs instead of three. 

Namjoon had knocked on his door a little later, quieter and less obviously in need of comfort. Jimin didn’t stop by at all, and Yoongi wondered if the other man was that worried about him that he didn’t want to burden him with any more complaints. And honestly? Yoongi was grateful. He was run ragged and wanted his bed more than anything.

“Nah,” Yoongi breathed, stretching. “Studio.” The other nodded and slumped back down into his duvet roll, leaning over the sink. Yoongi watched him for a moment. He should feel bad, but he couldn’t summon the energy. He felt like he’d lived two days in one, rather than one day twice. Did that make sense? He shook his head and left for his room, grunting at Hoseok on his way. 

“Don’t be sad, it’s not anything you did.”

Jimin’s voice had that soft, murmuring quality that it took on whenever he was trying to soothe someone. Ah, Yoongi thought. Taehyung. In the hubbub of the day, he’d forgotten. 

“No, it’s not worth it, Taehyung,” Jeongguk joined in, and Yoongi tried to shuffle past without being noticed. He didn’t want to get caught up in this again. Though he didn’t think he’d end up shouting at Taehyung this time, his head was so hazy that he was sure nothing good would come of it. 

“Try again tomorrow,” Jimin suggested. 

Taehyung huffed out a breath and Yoongi paused, just for a moment. The other man didn’t look as distraught as yesterday. Upset, sure - he’d clearly been crying - but he seemed a little more in control. “No, it can’t be tomorrow,” he whined. “It has to be today, that’s the whole point. I -”

“Hyung.”

At Jeongguk’s words, both Taehyung and Jimin’s heads sprung up, all eyes on him. Taehyung’s cheek flushed. 

“Hey, Yoongi,” Jimin started, flicking his gaze between him and Taehyung. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk perked up. “The doctor give you the all-clear?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi repeated, feeling stupid.

“So, you’re okay, Hyung?” Taehyung’s eyes glistened and Yoongi began to feel like even more of a shit for yelling at him yesterday. 

“Yes,” he croaked, cringing when his voice broke. 

“How come -” Jimin started, but Taehyung interrupted with an almost stern glare. 

“That’s good. You should sleep.”

His voice was thick and heavy and Yoongi didn’t question it. He couldn’t think anymore, he wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep, and wake up tomorrow with this whole ordeal over and done with. 

“Uh-huh,” he muttered, shuffling away and closing his bedroom door on all of them.  

~

DAY THREE

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. His eyes snapped open. 7.13am. No, he thought. No, no, no. Pushing himself upright, he squinted around his room. Was it different? He couldn’t tell. Fuck.

He scrambled out of bed, pulled on his joggers - had he put them in the laundry again yesterday? He couldn’t remember - and ran out of the room. 

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Seokjin said, his voice muffled around a mouthful of food. 

Sickness cloyed in Yoongi’s stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Seokjin and Hoseok were both sat at the table, in the same seats as yesterday, and the day before, eating the same food, wearing the same clothes. 

“Hey, Hyung. What do you think? If you could time travel, would you go to the future? Jin reckons backwards, so that’s definitely him dead. He’d end up cancelling out his own existence, for sure.”

Yoongi was barely listening. He caught enough to know for sure, to seal his fate. He was stuck again. “No,” he groaned, grabbing at his hair.

“Thank you, Yoongi," Seokjin preened. "I’m very competent at sneaking around, you know.”

“No.” Yoongi clamped his eyes shut. Maybe it was a dream, all just a horrible nightmare.

“No?” Seokjin questioned.

“What the fuck, what the fuck?” Yoongi muttered, his back hitting the counter. He slid to the floor, the cold tile solid beneath him. “Why is this happening to me?”

“Er -" Seokjin rose in his seat, tracking Yoongi's descent. "You okay there, pal?”

“No!”

Silence. Yoongi tried to breathe, tried not to cry. He felt a warm body beside his. “What’s the deal, Hyung?" came Hoseok's soft voice. "Why are we sitting on the floor?”

Yoongi suppressed a sob, raising his head to meet his friend's gaze. Hoseok's forehead was wrinkled in concern. “I’m - Hobi, I’m having a mental breakdown," he started, voice wobbling. "I - I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, that’s okay," Hoseok soothed, resting a hand in the crook of Yoongi's arm. "Anyone can get overwhelmed.”

“But, I’m not - It’s not just stress. I’m going mad. I’ve - I’ve lived this day twice already.”

Seokjin grunted as he lowered himself down on Yoongi's other side. “What?”

“I’ve done this before -”

“Ah, I get it, I know it’s a little repetitive -”

“No! Shut up, no! That’s not -” Yoongi covered his face, talking into his hands. “Listen. In a second, Namjoon and Taehyung will come into the kitchen -”

“Well, sure, they live here,” Hoseok cut in. Yoongi hardly even paused.

“- And - Later, Jimin will cut me up on the way to the bathroom, and Seokjin, at practice, you’ll mess up the choreography and Jeongguk will get mad and you’ll stay behind to practice -”

Seokjin frowned, “That’s a little mean -”

“And then, in our design meeting, nobody’s listening, and it’s a nice design, but only Taehyung cares, and Namjoon’s worried about something -”

“Namjoon’s always worried -”

“And you!" Yoongi crowed, finally dropping his hands to interrupt Hoseok's defence. "You and Jimin have had some weird fight, and he tries to talk to me, but I don’t listen, and you end up sleeping on the sofa.” 

The other man cocked his head at that, eyebrows pulled together. "Did Jimin say something? What did he say?"

Yoongi shook his head, his energy seeping away. “And Taehyung’s sad. He’s sad, I don’t know why, but he is, and - I just - Why do I keep ending up here?”

“I’m sad?”

Namjoon and Taehyung peered down at the three of them curled on the floor. 

“Hey, guys,” Seokjin greeted, as if Yoongi wasn't freaking losing it.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon asked.

“Just having a chat on the floor," Hoseok shrugged. He was so casual as he said it, that Yoongi wondered if perhaps he'd been overdue a meltdown. Perhaps the others had all been waiting for it. “Namjoon," Hoseok carried on, squinting up at him. "Maybe, could you give the manager a call?”

It ended up with Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok heading off to dance practice, while Taehyung and a doubly confused Jimin lead Yoongi to the sofa. Yoongi had stopped ranting by now. He was still just in his joggers, he hadn’t really noticed until Taehyung carefully wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. 

“It’s alright, Hyung,” he said, softly. “Just one of those days, huh.”

The doctor was called - not Doctor Jhang this time - and Yoongi went through the process again. Again, he wasn’t believed. Again, tests were set up. He laughed a little when the tiny doctor said with a pleased smile that some slots were available the very next day. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be making those. 

Eventually, Jimin and Taehyung were called away. Dance practice and design sign off wait for no man, apparently, no matter how many times they’d gone through it. 

“The designs are fine, Taehyung, I promise. I’ve seen them, they’re fine,” Yoongi whined, allowing himself to sound a little petulant.

Taehyung scoffed. “No offence but I don’t trust your judgement. Remember that shirt you bought me last year?”

“You said you liked it.”

“I did say that.” Taehyung grinned, sending Yoongi a wink.

“Come on,” Jimin shouted from the corridor. Yoongi heard the front door unlock. “Rest up, Hyung!” came a strangled yell. 

Taehyung turned back to him, squeezing his leg where it rested under the blanket. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Nowhere to go?” Yoongi croaked, lazily watching the other man pull on his jacket.

“Not anymore,” he sighed. “It’s just a shame you’re ill today, you know?”

The words pinged in Yoongi’s mind. ‘ It has to be today, that’s the whole point. ’ He frowned. “What’s going on with you about today? You said something like that before.”

“You - You don’t know?” Taehyung paused, his bag clasped in his hands.

“No, or I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Oh, er, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Something had vanished from Taehyung’s eyes at that point, in that second. Yoongi wondered precisely what it was he’d said that pushed it away. Whatever. He’d just not mention it tomorrow. “Get some rest,” Taehyung breathed, now rushing to the hallway. 

“Sure,” Yoongi muttered, though the door had already slammed shut. 

In the absence of anything else to do, and at a complete loss, he went to bed. At least, he supposed, he’d be able to catch up on some sleep. 

~

DAY FOUR

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. He barely even moved, spare glancing at the floor near his bed. Yep, there was that same t-shirt and joggers that he’d very carefully chucked in the laundry again last night. 

He didn’t get up. He didn’t need to see anybody to know. 

Rolling over onto his front, he let the tears flow from his eyes, not bothering to stifle the sobs when they came. 

Namjoon knocked on his door half an hour later, clearly alarmed to find Yoongi in such a state, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Fuck off,” he ordered, meekly. “Leave me alone.”

“What’s wrong, Hyung?”

Yoongi didn’t answer. What was the point? A fresh wave of tears filled his red eyes and his face crumpled.

“Oh, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighed. He rested his hand the back of Yoongi’s head for a moment. “I’ll tell the managers that you’re not up to it today, okay?”

The warmth of his hand left and Yoongi’s door creaked open. “Do you need me to stay?” Namjoon asked, hesitantly. Yoongi could picture him lingering in the doorway, eyes wide with concern and pity.

“No,” Yoongi replied, voice thick. “I don’t want anyone.”

Namjoon must have relayed his message well, as about five minutes later, the dorm fell silent. Yoongi rolled over, staring at the ceiling. He’d cried himself out, mostly, but the odd occasional sob still wretched its way through his body, burning his throbbing eyes. Eventually, he tumbled out of bed and went to grab breakfast. When he pulled open the cupboard, he rolled his eyes. Right, no cereal.

But, then again, he had time now. He’d just go and get some, and -

Maybe - Maybe it was the dorm. Maybe, if he just left, if he didn’t fall asleep here, he could kick start his brain again. He bit his lip, staring at the empty cupboard. Well, what’s the worst that could happen? If he didn’t make it, he could try again tomorrow. If he royally fucked up, it would just be reset. Easy.

He darted back into his room, frantic energy buzzing through him. Getting dressed, he chose clothes that would help him blend in, packed his rucksack full of extra layers, chargers, his iPad, wallet, phone. In less than five minutes he was letting the dorm door click shut behind him. 

Why hadn’t he thought about this before? The cool spring air whipped around him and he felt his head clear for the first time in days. It was rare these days that he walked anywhere, but right now, it felt exactly right. He’d pick a direction and just walk until he couldn’t walk any more. 

As the pavement rushed beneath his feet, he thought about the others. They’d be mid practice by now. Perhaps Seokjin might be able to focus a little better without Yoongi there, or at least, they’d all feel a little softer to each other, in the face of Yoongi’s absence. 

By the time his hunger got the better of him, he’d reached a less residential part of the city. Cafes and wine bars interspersed the convenience stores and the hairdressers and the comic book stores. When he settled on a small patisserie - why not? He’d suffered enough - the bell above the door jingled in a satisfying way. With a plate of hotteok in front of him and a seat secured in the corner by the window, he felt the happiest he had done in days. Screw you, magic or science or impending madness, whatever. Even if this didn’t work, he could come back here every day, just to try all the sweet treats on the menu. 

Chancing a look at his phone, he had four missed calls, a dozen notifications in their group chat, messages from Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin, and an actual text message from Taehyung. He grimaced, before stuffing it back in his pocket, grabbing the remainder of his pancake, and leaving. 

If it had been in any other circumstances, Yoongi might have felt more guilty at worrying the others so much, or at abandoning their schedule so entirely, but it really had come to this. His mind began to wander as his legs did the same. Why was this happening? Now he was moving, was doing something about it, the question seemed less terrifying. What could have caused it? Nothing came to mind, but Yoongi supposed he didn’t quite have the imagination for it. 

He spent the rest of the day walking circles around a large park he discovered, eating food from the stalls, and watching the world go by. He deliberately didn’t think any more about what he’d done to cause this glitch in the sands of time. 

Once the sun set and the park filled up with young couples, groups of students, families making the most of a free day, Yoongi carved out a spot near the edge of the small lake. This had been the longest he’d spent outside of work in ages. Perhaps he could find some inspiration. 

He was just thinking about the way the moonlight twinkled on the water, how Namjoon, or Taehyung, might be able to form some softer words than he could, that he felt someone come up behind him. 

“What the actual fuck, Min Yoongi.”

Seokjin. A very unhappy looking Seokjin.

“How’d you find me?” Yoongi asked, so perplexed he couldn’t worry about what the flexing of his hyung’s jaw meant.

“Next time you want to run rings around us, turn off your location.” 

Yoongi sighed. Of course, he’d shared his phone’s location with Seokjin months ago, after getting lost in the middle of Chicago. Seokjin pulled his arm and dragged him across the path towards a parked car that Yoongi recognised as one from the company. 

The pair climbed inside. 

Driving back towards the dorm, Yoongi tapped his foot. It was 11:58 pm. Just two more minutes, he just had to make it two more minutes.

Next to him, Seokjin clicked his tongue. 

“What were you thinking? You could have told us that you were okay, at least. Jimin was so upset, and Taehyung’s been worrying himself stupid.”

“I’m a grown man.” 

11.59 pm.

“Yeah, and a responsible grown man would have told those people who were expecting him elsewhere that he had plans. It’s so - I can’t - You were so upset this morning, that’s what Namjoon said. Was that an act? Did you -”

~

DAY FIVE

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake.

“No,” he mumbled, disorientated. “ No .” He’d shut his eyes, just for a second. He’d blinked, that was all. Just blinked. “Well, shit.”

When he ambled out of his room, however, he had a renewed spring in his step. Yesterday had made it obvious that, even if he didn’t know why this was happening, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. He could do anything, absolutely anything. Some people would kill for that opportunity. Hell, he’d been dying to take a break from their schedule for years. This was his chance. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok was saying, still as earnest as that first day, “but if you went backwards, you’d end up cancelling out your own existence, you know you would.”

“Excuse me, no I would not,” Seokjin replied. “I’m very competent at sneaking around. So good at it, you don’t even know it.”

“Sure, sure. Yoongi, what do you think? If you could time travel, would you go to the future, or to the past?”

“The future,” Yoongi replied, instantly, digging around the back of the cupboard to find the cereal with marshmallows in that he knew they had hidden. “For sure.”

Hoseok beamed. “That’s what I said.”

He hung around the kitchen area, chewing slowly, as Namjoon and Taehyung arrived.

“Needed some sugar?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows at Yoongi’s cereal choice, a slight smirk on his face. Yoongi raised his middle finger. 

“Hyung’s sweet enough,” Taehyung said, hugging him from behind, and completely missing the joke. 

By the time Jimin surfaced, the others were moving more quickly, toothbrushes sticking out of their mouths, pulling on socks, searching for their phones. 

“You dancing in your boxers, Hyung?” Hoseok asked, lacing up his trainers at the far end of the hall. The others were all gathered around. 

“Nah, I’m not going,” Yoongi said. He waited for the response.

“You’re - What?” Jimin asked, a smile tugging at his mouth, hair dripping still.

“I’m not going,” he repeated, shrugging at the row of bewildered faces in front of him. “Don’t fancy it today. And as a responsible adult, I want to inform all of you, who might be expecting me elsewhere,” he sent Seokjin a smile, “that I will not be attending dance practice or the design meeting. Nor will I be in the studio today. I will be doing other things.”

“Like, what?” Namjoon asked, incredulous.

Yoongi slid off his seat and dumped his empty bowl in the sink. “Whatever I feel like.”

There was a beat before the cacophony of voices swelled from the silence. 

“Are you joking? You’re not very good at it.”

“You can’t just not go .”

“Do you feel unwell, Hyung?”

“He’s not joking, he’s gone mad.”

And there, at the end, as always, Taehyung. “But, Hyung, will I still see you later?”

Yoongi sighed, bringing his hands together like a prayer. “Taehyung, I’m going to be honest with you. No, probably not. I’m doing what I want today, so I don’t know where I’ll be.”

“‘What you want’. So you don’t want -” Taehyung cut himself off, cheeks flushed. He blinked rapidly, grabbed his bag from the floor and almost flew into the hallway. Yoongi could hear his fast footsteps echoing down the stairs. 

In the end, Namjoon and the others gave up trying to reason with him and left. It had actually been a lot easier than Yoongi thought it would be. Given time, he could probably get the whole ordeal down to ten minutes. 

Stepping into the shower - he realised he technically hadn’t showered for four days now - he thought about the endless options open to him. 

True to his word, he did whatever he wanted. For the first few days that was limited pretty much to eating, sleeping, and watching a lot of T.V. He managed to catch up on all the shows he’d been wanting to watch. There were a bunch of restaurants that had opened up nearby that he’d been meaning to try, which he ticked off his list one by one, each of them delighted by his visits. He called his family most days, each time the calls only lasted a handful of minutes, his parents and siblings all having busy days. The irony wasn’t lost on him that, on the one day he could spend doing what he wanted, his family were utterly tied down. 

Each day the other members remained grumpy with him. He couldn’t blame them. In fact, he found the consistency in their reactions quite amusing. Namjoon was always a little disappointed, Seokjin angry. Hoseok, bless his heart, just remained perfectly bewildered, every single time. Jimin was constantly concerned that Yoongi was going mad. And Taehyung, sweet Taehyung, just took it so Goddamn personally. It wasn’t until a long week of Tuesday’s had gone by that Yoongi realised he’d seen Jeongguk perhaps once in that time. Ah, well, he thought. Once time had sorted itself out again, he had the rest of his life to spend with Jeongguk and the others if he wanted. 

By the time he’d eaten his way through Seoul it occurred to him that he could travel further afield. He had the means for it. After studying the Incheon departures board and a map, he could get almost anywhere. So that was it. 

The first time he announced to the others that, “No, sorry, not going to practice today, I’m going to Auckland,” the looks on their faces kept Yoongi cackling all the way to the airport. He went to New Zealand, to Spain, to India, Australia, Sri Lanka, Qatar, Germany, Turkey, Malaysia, Nepal, the UK, Mexico, Italy, the list went on and on. Seeing all the sights, new sounds, new tastes, without anyone telling him what to do, it was exhilarating. In the blink of an eye, when the clock struck twelve back home, he’d wake up back in his bed again. He only stopped when he couldn’t stand to sit down in an aeroplane seat for a second longer. 

“Maybe I should, like, better myself, as a person,” he wondered aloud, over breakfast one day. 

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, crumbs dropping from his toast as it hung in mid-air. 

“Sure, Hyung,” he said, smile on his face. “Sounds good.”

And, so, Yoongi launched into his next phase. Student extraordinaire. He’d picked up a few phrases on his travels, so the first thing he thought of was perfecting another language. His English was good enough now, how about he actually cracked Japanese? How about he learnt the trumpet? How about he figured out how to make the perfect dwaeji gukbap that Jeongguk liked so much? He could surprise him for his next birthday.

He did all of it. 

In the end, he had to seek refuge in the apartment he’d bought, as avoiding the other members’ gloomy moods became too difficult. Even Taehyung would only look at him with sad eyes, still red-rimmed from whatever he was upset about after he announced his decision not to take part in the day’s schedule. 

Eventually, though, Yoongi got bored. 

It’s not as if he hadn’t known this was coming. There was only so long that he could sustain himself on positive energy. Frankly, he was impressed that he’d made it this far. Faced with a choice between actually trying to find out what the hell was going on, or continuing to deny the problem, Yoongi chose the latter. 

The next morning, he headed out without a word to anyone. He was so quick, in fact, that he spotted Jeongguk ahead of him, climbing into the back of a company car as he left to get his early practice in. 

A pang of guilt hit Yoongi in the stomach, but he shrugged it off. This would be his next project. A taste test of all the whiskey South Korea had to offer to him. He’d become a connoisseur. 

“That sure is a lot of alcohol, Hyung,” Namjoon commented, dryly, when Yoongi came clinking into the kitchen with his shopping bags tightly packed. “Big plans?”

“Yeah, I’m going to drink myself into oblivion. Anyone who wants to join me is more than welcome.”

Hoseok laughed, but, clearly, Seokjin didn’t see the joke. 

“Are you okay, Yoongi?” he asked. The honest concern in his voice had Yoongi flinching. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi snarked. “I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. Oh, except, I’m not doing the schedule today. You guys have fun, though.”

It took a little longer this time to get the other members off his back. Perhaps the presence of bags and bags of alcohol was causing them greater concern, he thought. He’d head directly to his apartment in the future. 

Yoongi spent the next few days in an alcohol-induced haze. He realised, gladly at first, then with encroaching frustration, that he never woke up hungover. His body was reset. It was just his fucking mind that was doomed to live the same day for the rest of eternity. 

Soon, drinking in his apartment bummed him out far too much. He went out, something he hardly ever did. He went from bar to club and from club to bar. The liquor was strong, the music loud, and the people merged into one. More than once he collapsed in some back alley somewhere, unable to make it back to his apartment. His phone would be constantly pinging with messages from the others, so much so that he got into the habit of chucking it into the Han. 

He got into fights, just to feel the sting in his knuckles, to taste the blood on his lips. 

He bought champagne for everyone in the club so that he could hear them cheer.

He sped cars down the motorway, top down, music loud, to feel the wind on his face. 

When he took a corner too fast, alcohol pumping in his veins, wet eyes blurring his vision, he hardly even felt the impact. All he knew was the loud crash and the silence that followed. 

~

DAY ??

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake and he gasped for breath. His heart hammered against his rib cage and it took him a second to reassure himself. It’s fine. It reset. He’s fine.

Oh, God. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to slow down his breathing. When was this going to end?

The ceiling did not provide him with an answer. On shaky legs, he pulled on his clothes and headed out to the kitchen, where Seokjin and Hoseok were waiting. 

Perhaps - Perhaps it would be good, just to give himself a break, just to pretend everything was normal. Just for one round. He could align his thoughts a bit more and figure out just how he was going to find a solution. 

“I’m very competent at sneaking around. So good at it, you don’t even know it,” Seokjin was saying. Yoongi took a moment to smile at his hyung’s stupid smirk. It had been a while since he’d really spent any time with the others. Months, probably. He’d given up keeping track. 

“Sure, sure,” Hoseok teased. “Yoongi, what do you think? If you could time travel, would you go to the future, or to the past? I reckon the future, because that would be cool, to see all the flying cars and shit. If you went far enough, you wouldn’t have to worry about meeting yourself. Maybe you’d meet your great-great-grandkids or something but they wouldn’t know anything.”

He deliberately opened the cupboard and frowned as he lifted his empty cereal box. 

“I would go into the past, Hobi, so I could find and apprehend the monster that ate all my breakfast, only to put the empty box back.” 

Hoseok grinned. “Ah, probably Jeongguk. You know how he gets near comeback. The only things he can mentally process are dance moves or song lyrics.”

Yoongi grunted. “Can I have yours instead, Jin-hyung?”

“Sure.”

“Is it on the top shelf?”

Seokjin paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Maybe,” he said, slowly, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. 

“You enjoy seeing me suffer, don’t you?” he said, and both Seokjin and Hoseok chuckled. 

“What’s so funny?” came Taehyung’s voice as he and Namjoon shuffled into the room. 

Yoongi raised his arms. “Ah, my knight in shining armour. I need the special berries, whatever they’re called,” he said, pointing at the cupboard. 

Predictably, Taehyung beamed, then immediately bit his lips, as if that would hide it. “Sure, Hyung.”

Taehyung dropped the box in front of Yoongi just as Hoseok asked, “Hey, Namjoon, if you could travel in time would you …”

The group of them finished breakfast, Taehyung murmuring softly to him the entire time about some dream he’d had - talking fruit and an invasion of giant crabs - that had Yoongi choking into his bowl. It was nice. 

Making his way to freshen up, he heard the familiar cry of, “Sorry, Hyung!” as Jimin zoomed past him. He snorted. Up until that second, he’d actually forgotten. Redirecting his course, he wondered why he’d been so pissed off the first day. Nothing so bad was happening. 

Many painful minutes later, however, and Yoongi recalled exactly why he’d been so annoyed.

“Tough one, huh? It’s going to look so cool, though.”

Yoongi was hardly listening to Jimin. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Jeongguk, who was busy pulling Seokjin in an array of different directions.  

“Aw, come on,” Jimin complained. “You’re not ignoring me because of the bathroom thing.”

“No, no,” Yoongi replied, distractedly. “Why do you guys think Jeongguk’s in such a mood?”

“He’s just stressed,” Taehyung offered, dropping to the floor next to the pair.

Yoongi wrinkled his nose. “It’s more than that.”

“He’s just really, really stressed?” Jimin added, hopefully.

He hummed. “Maybe.”

“Alright, up and at ‘em,” came Hoseok’s voice. 

Drenched and panting at the end of the session, Yoongi supposed it was probably wise to have stopped in at practice. He’d had some trouble remembering the moves, relying on Jeongguk’s Seokjin-blinkers and Hoseok’s distracted mood. 

“Looked like you were having trouble today, Hyung,” Taehyung said, coming up to his shoulder. The others were still in the centre of the studio and Yoongi heard Hoseok quietly offer to stay back with Seokjin. At least Jeongguk didn’t shout this time. He looked about near to, though, from the way his jaw was grinding when Yoongi looked over. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi sighed. 

“I could help if you want? I mean -” Taehyung blushed a little. “You’d probably rather Hobi, or -”

“No,” Yoongi interrupted. “It would be good to run through it with you. I know you won’t judge me.” 

“Ah,” Taehyung grinned, shyness vanishing. “Hobi-hyung wouldn’t judge you.”

“Not with his words. With his eyes, though.” Yoongi shuddered, smirking at Taehyung’s chuckle. “Terrifying.”

“Maybe you’re right. Listen, I have to go, I’ve got some stuff, well -” And there he went, blushing again. Yoongi hadn’t appreciated it before, but Taehyung seemed to do that an awful lot these days. “You can work it out, I suppose,” he laughed. 

Yoongi smiled as if agreeing when Taehyung shrugged and half jogged out of the studio. What the hell was he talking about?

The design meeting was as dull as the first few times Yoongi had listened to it, though Seokjin spoke a little more. He seemed in a better mood without Jeongguk’s snapping. Jeongguk himself looked a little less like he wanted the world to swallow him up, so that was something. With a wistful sigh, Yoongi remembered the chicken they had the first time around. If he did this again, he had to reinstate the chicken. That was a highlight. 

Afterwards, Yoongi hesitated at the door to his studio. Truth be told, he was a little nervous to head back in there. It had been so long now, he struggled to recall the details of those tracks he’d finalised in the first days. Had he left it too long? 

He lingered so long, in fact, that Namjoon made his decision for him. The other man came striding down the corridor, stumbling a little when he spotting Yoongi’s solitary figure. 

“Hey, man. Are you heading in?” he eyed the closed door to Yoongi’s studio a little warily.

“Yeah, just, you know,” Yoongi shrugged. “Want to listen in?”

Namjoon nodded gratefully. 

Just like before, Namjoon was clearly weighing something in his mind. Yoongi didn’t push it. He always hated it when people asked him questions he wasn’t ready for. And besides, it was nice just having him there, if Yoongi was honest. 

Jimin called by later, as usual. Yoongi opened the door and let him in without a word. When Namjoon and Jimin shared a surprised look, he just grunted. “What,” he started, pointing a finger at the younger man, “is going on with you and Hobi?”

Ducking his head, Jimin squirmed. “Ah, you noticed that?”

“I have eyes.”

It took the other man a moment to get his words together. “I don’t know. It’s been - He’s been a bit off, recently. I’ve been - I suppose I’ve been a bit off with him, too.”

“Why?” Yoongi asked, perplexed by Jimin’s answer. 

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to cause a fuss.” Jimin’s gaze flickered to Namjoon. Yoongi had used Namjoon as an excuse before, but it had never occurred to him that Jimin honestly wouldn’t want to talk in front of him. “I was just dropping in, anyway Hyung, so,” Jimin gnawed at his lip. “See you later,” he rushed and darted out of the room. 

“That was weird,” Namjoon grumbled. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi frowned, recalling Hoseok retreating to sleep on the sofa, Jimin yelling at him when he got back to the dorm, Taehyung crying. He remembered the sound of his car skidding off the road and the crunch of bones that followed. Not yet, he thought. He couldn't face them just yet.  “Hey,” he said, spinning his chair to look at Namjoon. “How about you and me, make it an all-nighter?”

“All night?” Namjoon pulled a face like he could hardly believe Yoongi had suggested such a thing.

Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Well, late nighter. We’re getting old.”

“Yeah, alright, Hyung,” Namjoon grinned, dimples on full display. “Sounds fun.”

By the time the two of them got back home, new pages full of ideas spilling from Namjoon’s notebook, all the lights in the dorm were out. Creeping past Taehyung’s room, Yoongi could hear Jimin’s voice murmuring gently. Guilt crept up his spine, a feeling that he’d not experienced in a while. It took him a moment to recognise it. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow was a new day. Sort of.

~

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. He opened his eyes, sitting up straight. It was almost like a plan had formed in Yoongi’s mind overnight. He needed to tell someone. Not like those panicked attempts to get the others to believe him in the first few days, but he needed to sit down and explain and reason and, just, get someone on his side. He couldn’t see the way out. Maybe someone else could. 

Sitting in the kitchen, he observed the other members. Seokjin … Seokjin would go along with it, maybe, but only for show. He’d probably call a doctor out the second Yoongi left him alone. Hoseok would freak out, Yoongi was sure. As good as he was in a crisis, Yoongi had a feeling this particular crisis was not for him. Namjoon was out, he would take far too much convincing. Jimin, well, Jimin would definitely be nice to tell, but he wondered if the younger man would think it was all a prank. 

But what about Taehyung? Next to him, Taehyung was again rambling about his dreams. Yoongi hummed, catching his attention. 

“What?” Taehyung asked, with a huffed laugh. “I told you it was a weird dream.”

“Nothing. Carry on, I’m listening.”

Taehyung would believe him, more than any of the others, probably, with that slightly whimsical, slightly superstitious air about him. And, well, he certainly had a different way of looking at things. Maybe that’s just what Yoongi needed. 

He thought briefly about Jeongguk, but with the headspace that boy was in, spouting some nonsense about time loops would no doubt drive him over the edge. 

It was settled, then. 

“Hey, guys,” Yoongi called, and everyone in the kitchen raised their heads. “Taehyung and I are going to be a little late to practice today.”

“We are?” Taehyung said, eyes wide.

“Yeah, there’s some things we need to get done. We’ll meet you there.”

“But -” Hoseok started to protest, but Yoongi was fast to react. 

“Sorry, Hobi. Sorry. I know practice is important, but I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t need to. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” He grabbed Taehyung's arm. “You, with me.”

Thankfully, Taehyung let himself be pulled into Yoongi’s room. 

“What’s going on, Hyung?” he asked, eyeing Yoongi somewhat cautiously if a little bemused.

Yoongi weighed up his choices. “I need to tell you a secret,” he said. Taehyung grinned. 

It took a couple of goes to get it right. The first time Yoongi tried to tell him, he missed the landing. “Ah, Hyung. I thought you were serious!” Taehyung said, before rushing from the room. “Guys, wait up, we’re coming. Yoongi’s just messing with me.”

The next time, Yoongi built up to it a little more. 

“Taehyung, I promise what I’m about to say is not a joke. I thought I was going mad, I’ve honestly been through hell, sort of. I need your help.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Yoongi nodded, sucking in a breath. “I’m stuck in time. In a time loop. Today, Tuesday, twenty-sixth of March. Whenever I go to sleep, I just wake up back at the same morning. For months and months, Taehyung. I don’t know what caused it, but I need your help to stop it.”

The silence went on for a beat too long. 

“You’re - Are you for real?”

Grimacing, Yoongi nodded. “I’m so for real, it’s ridiculous. And I only have today to convince anyone, just the morning, really.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes, smirking a little. “Ah, you think, just because I like myths and stories that I’ll fall for this? I’ve got your number, Min Yoongi.”

So much for that. The next few tries were equally unsuccessful. 

“You know, it’s not nice to tease me, Hyung.”

“Try Hobi, instead. I’ve been working on not believing anything people tell me, you know. I’m not so gullible anymore.”

“Ah, you had me, Hyung, I thought you were serious!”

“You always say that!” Yoongi cried for what felt like the hundredth time, pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many times I’ve had this conversation with you? What will it take to convince you?”

“Convince me that you’re not joking?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Isn’t it obvious? Predict the future for me.”

So, the next day, Yoongi tried exactly that. He set out precisely what was going to happen in the day. It worked. Until it didn’t.

“You - You stay in your studio all afternoon?” Taehyung asked. He seemed taken aback, and Yoongi lost his footing slightly. 

“Yeah,” he said, slowly. 

“You - You don’t -” Taehyung licked his lips. “I’m upset and you don’t know why?”

Goddamnit, Yoongi thought, frowning at the soft crack in Taehyung’s voice. What was it with this kid? “Yeah,” he said again, scratching his head. “I mean, maybe if you spend the day helping me, you won't have a reason to be upset.”

“I don’t think so.” The other man turned to the door, mumbling over his shoulder, “Try again tomorrow, maybe.”

After thinking it through, Yoongi came to the conclusion that he’d just have to tell Taehyung the truth. The only way to get him to believe him was to tell him what would happen in the day. When he did that, Taehyung would get upset. He’d just have to apologise. And, really, actually, he did feel bad, so it’s not like he’d be lying. Each of them had their down days, but seeing Taehyung upset for months on end was really starting to chip away at Yoongi. It was the same with the others - Yoongi was beginning to feel like he’d never see Jeongguk smile again - but with Taehyung, it somehow felt like a particularly low blow, just because of how full of beans he always started the day. 

But this was it. Today was the day. If not, well, then tomorrow would be the day. Whatever. 

“I know you’re upset,” Yoongi huffed as he reached the new part of his speech, Taehyung pouting in the middle of his bedroom, “that I don’t know why you’re upset. I don’t know what to say to you, Taehyung, other than I’m sorry. I’m really sorry and I promise, as soon as I get out of this stupid day, I’ll make it up to you. But, right now, I’m trapped and you’re the only person that can help me.”

He waited and prayed.

“You could try the others,” Taehyung responded, eventually.

Yoongi shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. I mean, I could , but they wouldn’t be as good as you.”

The other man fixed him with a hard stare for a while, his face so blank that Yoongi wasn’t sure if he was about to get punched or hugged. Just as he began to think he’d messed up and would have to try again tomorrow, Taehyung’s shoulders sagged. 

“Alright,” he said, softly. 

Yoongi blinked “‘Alright’?” he said, unsure if he’d heard properly.

Taehyung nodded. “Alright. I believe you.” 

“You’ll help?”

“I’ll always help you, Hyung,” the other man said, a small smile on his face. 

It didn’t quite reach his eyes but, in that moment, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to care. He jumped on the spot and whooped. “Yes!” He must have looked ridiculous, as Taehyung actually started to laugh. For the first time in months, Yoongi laughed as well. 

Later, after they’d calmed down, Yoongi ventured into the empty dorm to bring back two huge mugs of hot chocolate.

“Not really hot chocolate season,” Taehyung mumbled, though he took a long sip as soon as Yoongi handed it over. 

“It’s always hot chocolate season,” Yoongi replied, dropping down to sit on the bed next to him. 

As if he’d been waiting for the right moment, Taehyung pulled his legs up and swivelled to face Yoongi. “So,” he started, and Yoongi felt a familiar trepidation building inside of him at the twinkle in his eyes. “What kind of things have you done, then? With your limitless days? It’s amazing, really.”

Yoongi barked out a laugh. “You’d think. So did I, at first, but,” he wrinkled his nose. “It gets kinda lonely.”

“I suppose,” Taehyung agreed, cocking his head to one side. “But I’ll be with you from now on.”

The words warmed Yoongi’s heart more than he could say. More than he realised he needed. He cleared his throat. “What would you have done?”

“Easy, I’d make the perfect day.”

Yoongi frowned. The words had come out of Taehyung’s mouth so easily, like it was obvious. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, you’ve got all this time. You could find out all the little things, all the big things, even, that are ruining people’s day, and change them. Make it so everyone is the luckiest, everyone has the best day of their lives, you know.”

“That’s - I hadn’t thought of that.” Immediately, all the shit that Yoongi had put up with, all the grumblings and moods and snapping and anxiety that everyone was living through in every single version of the day, it all vanished. Yoongi could do that. He could make it vanish. “Shit,” he let out a long breath. “This is why I need you, Tae. There’s so much stuff I could make better.”

“But, what have you been doing?” Taehyung laughed, baffled. 

“Learnt Japanese,” he said, shrugging. “Travelled a bunch. Drank a lot.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. Should he say? Should he reveal the very worst? In the end, the words came out like a croak. Like a whisper. Like a secret. “Ended up - Ended up in a car crash. I think I died.”

“Hyung,” Taehyung faltered, not even a trace of laughter left on his face. 

Yoongi sniffed, turning his gaze to the window. “Like I said, it was lonely.”

He heard Taehyung shifting and his vision was filled with Taehyung’s face, large hands curling around his wrists, squeezing tight. “Like I said, I’ll be with you from now on.”

~

“Maybe that’ll solve it, Hyung,” Taehyung carried on, hours later, as they navigated the streets of Seoul. “If everyone’s as sad as you say. Maybe that’s the reason. Time’s stuck until you make it better.”

“Why me, though?” Yoongi countered. 

They were both wearing masks and caps, easy disguises, but it meant that Yoongi wasn’t quite sure if Taehyung was serious when he said, “You’re good at cheering people up.”

Yoongi almost snorted. “No, I’m not.”

“You are, I promise you. Are we -” Taehyung cut himself off, frowning at the street around them. “Are we going to Yeouido Park?” he asked, suddenly.

“Yeah, it’s a good place to think. Didn’t I say?” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Have you just been riding around with me, with no idea where we’re going?” It wasn’t a special place, not really. Just, when Yoongi moved to Seoul, he would come here when he had some moments free. It wasn’t often, in between training and study and work, but sometimes. He honed his writing here, where the paths were filled with different people. Families enjoying the play park and the water, teenagers on their bikes and skateboards, elderly couples walking through the trees. It helped ground him, reminded him what life was like outside his bedroom walls. So, not a special place, but special to him.

Taehyung didn’t answer, directly. “Oh, Hyung,” he cried. “You remembered! I thought - I thought for sure you’d forgotten.”

“Remembered? Remembered what?”

The other man stopped in the path, eyes wide, lips thin. “Ah, nothing. Sorry.” After a second he carried on walking, his pace so fast Yoongi had to jog to catch up.

“Is it about why you’re upset?” Yoongi asked, a little breathy, beside him. 

“Don’t worry, Yoongi-hyung.”

“But I really am worried.”

“It’s okay.” Taehyung shook his head, smiling weakly as the path to Yeouido Park came into sight. “I had unrealistic expectations.”

“About what?”

“About nothing you need to concern yourself with. Now, shush.” Taehyung took his hand, pulling him along the path towards a small coffee shop at the edge of the park. “We need to figure out how to save Bangtan!”

Yoongi let himself be dragged along, a smile forming on his lips that Taehyung couldn’t see. “Save is a strong word.”

“That’s why I used it,” Taehyung replied, eyes bright. “Come on. We’ll start with Guk.”

~

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake and he leapt out of bed, pulling on his clothes and stumbling out of his room. 

“Jeongguk!” he yelled down the stairs as he barrelled out of the dorm. “Jeongguk, wait up!”

It was all part of the grand plan that he and Taehyung had pulled together, though Yoongi couldn’t say with honesty he was loving the idea of this first part. 

“Wait,” he panted, collapsing against the bannister at the bottom step. 

Jeongguk blinked at him. “Hyung?” he asked, perplexed. Yoongi wondered if he was too confused to be annoyed.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “So, I thought I’d come with you, get that extra half an hour, you know?”

“Like that?” Jeongguk eyed Yoongi’s outfit. Yoongi almost made a mental note to set some nicer clothes out for tomorrow, before he remembered. 

“Yeah, just getting sweaty anyway, right?” Yoongi clapped Jeongguk’s back and walked out towards the car. “You coming?” he called over his shoulder, as Jeongguk stood immobile at the door.

It was weird. Jeongguk seemed fine in the car ride. A little quiet, maybe, but that wasn’t unusual when it was just the two of them. They made more of an introspective pair, Yoongi thought, smiling to himself.

“You okay?” he asked, more of a grunt.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk replied, flicking his eyes up for half a second.

“All good with you?”

“... Yeah, Hyung.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, his fingers tapping against his thighs. “Nothing stressing you out, causing you to, I don’t know, feel tense?”

Jeongguk sent Yoongi a withering look. “There wasn’t until you started asking me weirdly pointed questions.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Yoongi nodded, not to be intimidated.

The younger went back to scrolling through his phone and Yoongi narrowed his eyes. Some detective work needed with this one, then. 

At the dance studio, Jeongguk chucked his bag into the corner and headed directly for the corner mat. The rest of the room was empty. 

Yoongi frowned, “I thought you worked out with Muyeol in the morning?”

“Yeah, usually,” Jeongguk replied, stretching out his arms. “But he said he couldn’t come in early today. It's no big deal, I know the routine.” He smiled. “I can show you if you like?”

“Nah, I’ll stick to my own, thanks,” Yoongi said, dryly. He set up next to the other man, trying to recall the routine the trainer had assigned him. “Don’t want to show you up.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk laughed.

As he watched Jeongguk start to sweat and strain, he tried to temper his thoughts. After having to put up with watching the other man work himself up until he was red in the face, though, he sighed, sitting back on his ankles.

“Going pretty fast there, Guk,” he tried.

Jeongguk blew out the breath. “It’s fine. I need to step it up for comeback.”

Yoongi hummed. “Alright.” Though he kept his eyes on the younger man.

His eyes didn’t do much good, however, when Jeongguk cried out in pain. “Argh!”

“Shit, you okay?” Yoongi gasped, running over to him. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk grunted, locking his jaw. He waved Yoongi off, the other hand grasping his calf. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing, Hyung.”

“You hurt yourself.”

“No, just - Just landed on it funny.” He wasn’t quick enough to stop the wince that flashed across his face. 

Yoongi slumped. “I said you were going too fast.”

“Yeah, great, thanks,” Jeongguk huffed.

“Come on,” Yoongi said, laying his hands on Jeongguk’s back. “You need to put some ice -”

Jeonguk shrugged him away, moving to walk off. “No, ah, shit. No, it’s -” He limped for a few steps. “I’ll walk it out. It’ll be fine after I stretch it. The other’s will be here for practice soon anyway.” 

“Oh, Jeongguk,” Yoongi sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?” 

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

Now that he knew, it astounded him that none of them had noticed before now. When the others arrived, Jeongguk plastered a strange grimace on his face. If he looked closely, Yoongi could spot the place where he was biting down on his cheek. 

With each run-through, his jaw became tighter and tighter, up until the rest, where he wound his fist tightly in Seokjin’s shirt, letting him take his weight a little as he pushed him through the routine. 

Of course he’d been frustrated. Not at Seokjin, but at himself.

In spite of all of that, Yoongi smiled to himself. A simple problem had a simple answer. All he had to do next time was to stop Jeongguk from working out alone. 

As he walked by a resting Taehyung, he held his hand up for a high-five. Gamely, Taehyung met it with a bemused smile. “This is going to be a cakewalk,” Yoongi crowed.

~

“Just, tell me!” 

“No, Hyung. There’s nothing to tell.” 

Phase two of the plan was turning out to be more difficult than anticipated, despite Yoongi’s earlier optimism. Jimin was a closed book. When Yoongi had tried to press Hoseok for details of their … disagreement, the other man had all but run for the hills.

Yoongi sighed. “Alright. Keep your secrets,” he said, leaving Jimin in the corridor he’d dragged him into after fleeing from the design meeting.

If two heads were better than one, how would five do?

When Yoongi created a new group chat, just him, Seokjin, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jeongguk, the first message he typed out was, ‘mayday - meet in my room,’ with an extra, ‘now!!’ for luck.

He waited patiently.  

Twenty minutes later, when only Namjoon and Taehyung had materialised, he sent out another message, ‘food will be provided,’ glowering a little when the last two appeared not two minutes later. 

“Such honour and reliability,” Yoongi drawled. “I could’ve been dead in a ditch.”

“Sorry, Hyung,” Jeongguk said, scratching his ear. “Somebody mentioned food?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “It’s on the way.”

Thankfully, Jeongguk had softened a little in this version of the day. A quiet word to Seokjin about the reason for his grumpiness went a long way. Yoongi wasn’t sure what the older had said, but it did the trick. 

“I thought you were in the studio this afternoon?” the man in question said, dropping on the bed next to Namjoon. 

“Change of plan. An urgent mission has come up.”

“Urgent mission,” Namjoon repeated, a playful smile lifting his cheeks. “Okay, Agent Min, give us the brief.”

“What the hell is going on with Hobi and Jimin?” he said, in a rush. The smile fell from Namjoon’s face and he slumped back against the wall.

“Ah.”

In sync, they all turned to Jeongguk, who looked up at them with wide, guilty eyes.

“‘Ah’?” Yoongi repeated, incredulous. “Oh, my God. You know! You knew all along. Uragirimono!”

Jeongguk raised his hands in defence. “No, no, no. I don’t know the details.”

“Is something up with Hobi and Jimin?” Taehyung piped up, pouting just a little.

“You hadn’t noticed?” Seokjin scoffed, flicking Taehyung’s ear. “And was that Japanese?”

Taehyung scowled, rubbing at the abused skin. “I thought they were just both a bit tense,” he muttered, sulkily.

“Jeongguk, spill,” Yoongi ordered, trying his best not to look like he was throwing a tantrum.

“I shouldn’t, I’m not supposed to know,” Jeongguk whined.

“Jeongguk!” Yoongi turned to Namjoon, “Namjoon. Namjoon, tell him.”

Namjoon blinked, owlishly. “I mean, if it’s not his secret to tell?” he offered.

Yoongi huffed. “Ah, you’re useless.” He stepped closer to Jeongguk. “This is for the good of the group. How are we supposed to comeback well if two of us are barely talking?”

“Is it really that bad?” Taehyung gasped.

Seokjin sent him a dark look before saying, softly, “I did hear Hoseok mention sleeping on the sofa when we stayed after practice.”

“Come on, Jeongguk,” Yoongi doubled down. 

It seems they’d worn him down. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his elbows on his knees. “Look, all I know is that Jimin is mad at Hobi for looking at something private, I don’t know what. He was going on about how it broke the roommate code and that Hobi should’ve known better. But that was weeks ago, now. So,” Jeongguk shrugged. “Maybe it’s something different.”

Yoongi pursed his lips. “Or maybe it’s just been left to fester.”

By the time food arrived, everyone was much more invested.

“We could find Hobi’s diary, and had it over to Jimin,” Jeongguk proposed.

“He doesn’t keep a diary. Maybe his first draft tracks, though, that might even it out,” said Seokjin.

“No, no, we should get them to talk about it, you know. Facilitate a discussion,” Namjoon reasoned.

“Surely, surely , we just lock them in a room together, don’t let them out until they’re done,” suggested Taehyung.

Yoongi hummed. “All valid ideas.”

“Hey, guys.” He jumped out of his skin at the sound of Hoseok’s voice, along with Seokjin, who dropped the packet of fries he was munching across Yoongi’s bed. “What are you up to?” Hoseok asked.

“Nothing,” all five of them said at once. 

“Uh-huh.” Hoseok kept his eyes narrowed as he shut the door again. The rest of them shared a look before bursting into a fit of laughter. Yoongi was sure that the sound would carry, but in that moment, he really didn’t care.

~

After a few more days, Yoongi had run the well dry on information about Hoseok and Jimin. There was a drought going on, it seemed. 

He was lamenting to Namjoon in the studio when the other man let out a heavy sigh.

“Sounds like I’m not the only one with the world on my shoulders,” he commented. “Want to share?”

Namjoon sent him a self-deprecating smile. “No,” he said. “Yes.” He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

“Try me.”

“It’s stupid.”

Yoongi wheeled himself closer. “I shared a room with Jin for a hundred years. I promise you, I’ll have heard stupider,” he said.

Namjoon worried his bottom lip for a moment before the words seemed to spill out of him, “Well, you know I’m working on this collab?”

“Sure,” Yoongi nodded. “It’s going to be freaking awesome.”

“Yeah, but, I guess I’m just -” Namjoon grimaced and rubbed his neck. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. This idiot better not say what he thought he was going to. “Ah, I don’t know. I’m feeling guilty. I don’t want to neglect Bangtan. Everything’s got so big, lately. I feel like I’m dropping the ball, or, maybe, not prioritising properly.”

“Ah, Namjoon,” Yoongi croaked, words muffled as he threw his hands to his face.

“What?” Namjoon asked, perplexed.

“That’s it? That’s what got you so worked up?”

The other man had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Maybe.”

“You -” Yoongi chuckled a little. “You need to relax.”

“But, everyone’s under so much stress -”

Yoongi interrupted him with a hand held out in the space between them. “Namjoon, we will always be under stress before a comeback. We have been since the dawn of time, okay? It’s nothing to do with your collaboration.” His voice softened, “You’re the best leader, you really are. Cut yourself some slack. You can’t solve everything.”

“I suppose,” Namjoon sighed.

“No. You know.” Yoongi leaned closer and jabbed his finger into Namjoon’s chest. “The other guys hero-worship you. It’s a problem for them, but you’re fine.”

Namjoon smiled. “The others. Not you, then,” he said, a tentative laugh in his voice. 

Yoongi pursed his lips and shrugged. “No. It’s come close, but then I just remember how you were styled for debut and any respect I had just slips away.”

The two of them grinned a little stupidly at each other. It hadn’t been super high on Yoongi’s list of priorities, to find out what was bothering Namjoon. It hadn’t really seemed to impact anything much. But now, noticing how the other man had let go of so much tension, held his head a little higher, Yoongi began to wonder why the hell he hadn’t thought it was more important. 

“Glad I have you to keep me grounded,” Namoon drawled.

Yoongi made to kick his shin, missing by a large margin. “Likewise.”

~

“Jeongguk! Jeongguk, wait up! Wait,” Yoongi grimaced, bracing his hands on his knees as he got his breath back. Goddamnit, he hated exercise in the morning. 

“Hyung?” Jeongguk asked, shocked as always to see Yoongi out and about. 

“Morning.”

“Hi.” Jeongguk ran the word on as if it were a question. 

“Where are you going?” Yoongi managed to ask, finally pulling himself upright.

“Er, I thought I’d get a work out in before practice.”

“No. Oh, no. Guk,” Yoongi clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he made his way closer. “Terrible idea.”

“Is it?” Jeongguk replied, words a little pinched, like he doubted Yoongi’s authority on the matter. “You know, comeback’s close, Hyung, you could -”

Yoongi curled his hand around Jeongguk’s shoulder, levelling him with an intense look. “You ate my cereal,” he said in as serious a voice as he could manage.

“Oh. Ha, yeah,” Jeongguk wrinkled his nose and cocked his head a little to the side. “Maybe I did.”

The little bugger didn’t even sound sorry. Yoongi narrowed his eyes, wagging a finger at him. “You owe me.”

“Ah, Hyung, come on,” Jeongguk whined, but Yoongi ignored him. Instead, he grabbed the younger by the hand and began to drag him down the path. Jeongguk dug his heels in. “Fine, here, take my card.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes as Jeongguk reached into his pocket. “I don’t want your money,” he all but laughed. 

“Well, what -”

“Come to the store with me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, come shopping with me. I need my cereal, Jeongguk, you’ve deprived me. Who knows what might happen today, if I don’t get proper sustenance.”

Jeongguk blanched. “But, I have to work out,” he said, dimly.

“You really don’t,” Yoongi drawled. “Besides, Muyeol isn’t going to be there. It’s not clever to go through that routine by yourself. Too intense.”

“But -”

“No.” Yoongi renewed his efforts to drag Jeongguk with him. This time, the other man didn’t resist. “Come with me. No arguing. A day off will do you good.”

At the checkout, as Yoongi watched the woman in front of them pay for her groceries - who the hell is out and grocery shopping this early in the morning? - something occurred to him. 

“Hey, Jeongguk,” he said, whacking the other in the arm. “I have an idea of how you can pay me back.”

“For what?” Jeongguk frowned, rubbing his arm, definitely just for show.

“For the cereal.”

Jeongguk sent him a flat look. “I’m literally buying you more cereal right now.”

Yoongi shifted. “But, for the emotional trauma you put me through,” he said, raising his hands to his chest. 

Jeongguk laughed. “You’re being weird today.”

“So are you,” Yoongi replied and stuck his tongue out. “Can you talk to Namjoon?”

“Er, sure. What about?”

“He’s having some kind of internal battle about the time he’s spending doing collabs, so close to comeback.”

Jeongguk scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s stupid.”

“It is, but, can you just make sure he knows,” Yoongi continued. “I’ll talk to him as well, but it would be good coming from you.”

The other man didn’t take any more convincing, Yoongi knew he wouldn’t. The younger only ever pretended to be glib. The second any of them showed any signs of upset, he was on it like wildfire. Take Taehyung later. Even when he’d had a terrible day, Jeongguk was still there to comfort him. Yoongi pushed the image from his head. 

“Okay,” Jeongguk nodded. “It’s not good to get so worked up about these things.”

Yoongi barked out a laugh, nudging the other with his elbow. “So young, yet so wise.”

“Get off,” Jeongguk muttered with a smirk, as the cashier greeted them.

~

“I hear you’ve been snooping,” Yoongi said later that night, catching Hoseok in the kitchen, his usual duvet coat in fine form. 

Hoseok’s eyes widened. "Did Jimin say something? What did he say?"

Yoongi hadn’t been able to speak to either of them, all day. It was incredibly frustrating, but that was the beauty of repeating the same day over and over. Now he knew exactly what to avoid. And, at least he’d worked out a routine that got the others on track. Well. Some of the others.

“Well, firstly, I would like to hear your version of events,” he said, softly. “Some things can get lost in translation.”

“Hyung, he won’t talk to me,” Hoseok replied, almost stomping his feet. “And I’ve tried to apologise, but he won’t listen. He asked me to leave, seemed pointless to fight him about it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted out, alright?” It was as he said these words that Yoongi realised, he really meant it. It had been so long since he’d prioritised what was going on in the lives of the others, that he’d forgotten, it felt good. “Just, explain to me what went down.”

Hoseok slumped down onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. “Ugh. It was ages ago. Well, the week before last. I was just tiding a bit, that’s all. We’d rushed out the day before, so I was putting things back where they should be.”

“Sounds on brand,” Yoongi added, dryly.

“Hyung,” Hoseok whined and Yoongi raised his hands in defeat. “He’d left this box out, with this book on top. All I was going to do was put the book in the box and move it under the bed. That’s where he keeps it, I’ve seen him take it out a hundred times.”

That sounded like a set up if ever Yoongi had heard one. “All you were going to do?” he drew out. “So what did you do?”

“May have looked in the book,” Hoseok muttered, mainly to the countertop. He shrugged. “Just a little.”

“Hobi,” Yoongi sighed. 

The other man interrupted, hands outstretched. “No, look, something fell out of it - you know he keeps all that stuff - some ticket or something fell out, so I opened the book to slot it back in. I didn’t even read anything!” he crowed. “Anyway, of course, that’s when he came in and saw me and went ballistic.” Hoseok pouted, folding his arms and sounding only a little bit sulky as he said, “Honestly, he didn’t even give me a chance to explain. I don’t even know what was in it to make it such a drama for me to read.”

Yoongi drew his eyebrows together gaze travelling down to the pillow now resting on Hoseok’s lap. “How on earth does this lead to you having to sleep on the sofa?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Hoseok whirled his arm in the air. “I guess, he was being grumpy with me, so I was grumpy back at him and, it’s just been shit.” The other man sounded so sad as he said the words, Yoongi reached out and squeezed his knee. Hoseok smiled at him, bottom lip still stuck out. “After a while, I tried to explain, like, that I hadn’t even seen anything, but,” he sighed. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Let me have a word with him -”

“Hyung.”

“No, look, I’ll be subtle,” Yoongi reassured. “I won’t make a big deal out of it.”

Hoseok levelled him with an unimpressed look. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi said, though it came out more like a squeak. “I’ll be cool.”

~

“Park Jimin, why are you being such a little shit?”

The next day Yoongi had been pretty pleased with himself. He’d sorted Jeongguk out, had a word with Namjoon, and had reassured Hoseok that he was going to deal with everything. He’d even made sure that everyone was talking and fed and happy, up to a point. Now, face to face with a scowling Park Jimin in his studio, he wasn’t sure he was going to get any further. 

“I’m not being a shit,” he said, folding his arms. “I just don’t see why I should apologise.”

“Alright,” Yoongi sat back in his seat. “I didn’t say you should. But, now that you mention it, yeah, you are being a little unreasonable. First step, though, how about you let Hobi apologise to you? Might make you feel better.”

“He shouldn’t have looked,” Jimin mumbled, looking very small in his oversized jumper, knees tucked into his chin.

“He knows that, Jimin. That’s why he wants to apologise.” Yoongi sighed. Why was it so hard for Jimin to talk when that’s exactly what he’d turned up to do? “Look, you clearly feel bad about this, or you wouldn't have come to me.”

Jimin pulled a face, dismissive. “I came to listen to your tracks -”

“Yeah, yeah, so you say,” Yoongi spoke over him. “I am opting not to believe you.” He licked his lips, scooting forward. “What’s the real issue here? So, he might have seen a bit of your journal. Clearly, he hasn’t told the world your dirty secrets, and he evidently doesn’t judge you for anything. Where’s the problem?”

After a few heavy moments of silence, Jimin muttered, “It wasn’t my journal.”

“Okay,” Yoongi said, simply, waiting for more.

The other man huffed. “It was my songs, my songwriting.”

After nothing more was shared, Yoongi sighed. “Jimin,” he said. “Help me out here.”

“No, look,” Jimin snapped, rising to his feet. “I don’t want to talk about it.” With that, he stomped out of the studio, the door beeping softly as it closed in his wake.

The next day, Yoongi started at the top.

“So, what did Hobi actually see? If it was really your journal, he’d tease you and move on.”

“My songwriting,” Jimin answered gruffly.

“Okay,” Yoongi nodded. “Why’s that upset you so much?”

“It’s - they’re only rough ideas, it’s not,” Jimin seemed to fight for the ability to talk before he was overwhelmed. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Again he stomped away. Again the door beeped closed.

Every day, he started a little closer to the end.

“So, your song ideas, why is it that you don’t want Hobi to see them?”

“So, you’re worried that Hobi might think your ideas are bad, is that it?”

“You think that you’ll never be as good as the rest of us?”

“I’m awful!” Jimin wailed on the sixth day. “Just awful. Even just thinking about - Just the idea of someone seeing them. I - God.” Yoongi watched as the other man curled into his knees like he was experiencing a full-body cringe. “It’s so embarrassing, Hyung. I can’t look him in the eye, I can’t.”

“Jimin. Jimin, come here,” Yoongi said, waving the other man over to where he was perched on the studio sofa. Jimin went, dragging his feet, and flopped down into Yoongi’s side. “Look, I promise you, you are not a bad songwriter, okay? I promise you. Everybody starts out unsure that’s what first drafts are for.” Yoongi bit down a smile against the top of Jimin’s head. “Hobi would never - Seriously, you would be appalled at some of the shit I have shown to Hobi and Namjoon, even when I thought it was in a decent state. Not once have they laughed at me. That’s what we’re for. We’re a team.”

Wide eyes peered up at him. “It’s just, you’re so good,” Jimin said, softly. “And Hobi and Namjoon, you’ve all done your mixtapes. Everyone’s doing solo stuff, and it’s really good, and I’m -”

“Jimin, you’ve got a solo track coming out, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as good -”

“Park Jimin, stop,” Yoongi all but shouted, dragging the other man to sit up straight. “You’re good. You’re so good. If you don’t stop talking like this I will set Jin on you.” Jimin sent him a small smile. “You want my advice?”

“‘Spose,” Jimin shrugged.

“Talk to Hobi. Let him say sorry, say sorry to him. Show him your songs. I know it’s scary, but that’s how you get better. And you never know, I have some drafts that I’ve never shown anyone because I thought they were awful. Listening to them now, though, they were fine, they were good, even. I was just too nervous.” He didn’t say it, but one track in particular sprung to mind. 

Jimin chewed on his lip, staring down at his fingernails for a moment. When he did look at Yoongi once more, it was with a slight glimmer in his eyes. “Namjoon said you don’t show them your songs until they’re done.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and they would probably get better a lot quicker if I did.” He prodded Jimin’s arm. “Do as I say, not as I do.” 

“Maybe,” Jimin agreed. “I’ll - I’ll go and - He probably shouldn’t sleep on the sofa anyway, would probably do his back in so close to comeback.”

As Jimin left the studio, at a reasonable pace this time, and a renewed lift in his shoulders, Yoongi hummed. He wasn’t too bad at this, after all. He sent a message to Taehyung, wondering if he could convince the other man to spend the evening in the studio. He didn’t get a reply.

Days later, he’d got it down to a fine art, being the hero of the day. In the morning, he’d drag Jeongguk back upstairs to get ready for practice properly. They stopped by the store on the way, where Yoongi always bought a bowl and spoon as well. Then he would sit, in the half time break, stuffing his face full of cereal, ignoring the disgusted looks from the others. Taehyung would always sit with him, demanding a spoonful every now and then. 

After practice, the design meeting went so much better with Seokjin and Jeongguk in full spirits, and an order of fried chicken to boot. Grabbing Jimin on the way out was easy, the studio becoming a sanctuary for their heart to heart. He should start charging for it, Yoongi thought, as Namjoon inevitably arrived not long after Jimin left. 

With their leader dutifully restored to prime levels of confidence, the rest of the afternoon was free to actually make progress on those tracks that Yoongi almost had memorised by now. 

All in all, an almost perfect day. If it wasn’t for Taehyung.

Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung, Yoongi wondered. 

Consistently, the younger man was already at the dorm by the time Yoongi got home, weeping with Jimin and Jeongguk. If Yoongi arrived home early, he’d get a front row seat to Taehyung opening the door, taking one look at him, and bursting into tears. It was unsettling, to say the least. The worst thing, the thing that twisted Yoongi’s stomach, was that whenever he tried to comfort Taehyung, it only seemed to make the other man sadder.

What was he supposed to do?

He was the only member that Yoongi hadn’t really spent the whole day with by now, at least not as a normal day. He wanted to, he knew it would help, but part of him was nervous to find out the answer. And, if he was honest, he just missed him.

Finally, after three days of running through an almost perfect day, Yoongi couldn’t put it off anymore. Tomorrow, it was back to the hunt. He could ignore the others for a day, it wouldn’t kill them. He just needed to find out what the hell was making Taehyung so sad, and how he was involved.

~

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake and he braced himself for a day with the other’s being slightly more miserable. That being said, it was nice to lie in his bed for a while. He tucked his duvet around himself and sank into the mattress, just for a few minutes more. 

“I’m very competent at sneaking around. So good at it, you don’t even know it.”

“Morning,” Yoongi chirped to Seokjin and Hoseok. He made idle chat with them until Namjoon and Taehyung arrived, asked Taehyung to retrieve Seokin’s cereal, listened to him talk about his dreams. It was all very normal, all familiar. 

“Taehyung, to warn you, I’m sticking to you like glue today.”

“Oh?” A slow smile crept across the other man’s face before he bit his lip. “Okay, Hyung. That’s nice.”

And it was nice. Although nothing revolutionary happened, dance practice was a little more light-hearted. Yoongi knew the routine like the back of his hand by now, so didn’t have to concentrate quite as much. That was just as well, as Taehyung was rather distracting. 

It wasn’t often that Yoongi just watched the other members dance, Taehyung especially. Sometimes he forgot how intense it could be. The delicate form of his face as he focused, the flutter of tendons in his neck, the muscles dancing just beneath his skin. Of course, it was generally ruined when Taehyung caught him looking and winked, or stuck his tongue out, or plastered a stupid grin on his face.

Even with his focus on Taehyung though, Yoongi found he couldn’t quite ignore Jeongguk.

“Take it easy,” he muttered as he wandered past to pick up his water bottle. “You’re limping. Sit it out if you need to.”

Jeongguk flexed his jaw. “I’m fine.”

Yoongi was shocked to see, however, that after the next round, Jeongguk stepped out, slid down the mirrored wall and onto the floor. Huh, he thought. Funny, how tiny things could change how people behaved. 

In the small reprieve before the design meeting, Yoongi waited with bated breath to see where Taehyung took them. The other man just smiled, a little breathlessly, eyes glimmering. 

“What are we doing, then?” Taehyung asked.

“Oh, er, I don’t know. What would you normally do?”

“I mean, I was just planning to go for a sauna, actually.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

At the sauna, as the hot air clung to his skin, Yoongi wracked his brain for some way to get the information out of Taehyung without raising the alarm. He cleared his throat, eyes landing on where Taehyung sat with his head leant back, eyes closed. Sweat glistened on his neck. “What else are you doing today?” Yoongi asked, a little strained.

Taehyung opened one eye before shrugging with a lazy smile. “You already know.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi croaked. It wasn’t completely a lie, he supposed. He knew the easy parts. “But I like to hear your voice.”

“Hyung.”

“Humour me.”

“Ah,” Taehyung shifted, pushing himself higher up on the wooden bench. His voice was thick and slow, like treacle. “Okay, so we’ve got the design meeting later. It’ll be great, I love seeing the new art for the albums. It’s always so pretty.”

Yoongi grunted. “We need to stop to pick up lunch for everyone on the way.”

“Sure. Can I choose?”

“Why not,” he said with a smile. “What after that?”

“Er, so,” Taehyung trailed off, ducking his head.

Yoongi couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips. “What?” he tried. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

“I was going to go shopping, pick out a new outfit,” Taehyung said, looking up through his eyelashes, a little coy.

“For the airport?” 

“N - No, for, later.”

“Ah, of course,” Yoongi nodded. The mysterious later. “And then?”

“Hyung, why are you -”

“Taehyung, please,” Yoongi groaned. “Pretty please.” He pouted, pulling a ridiculous face, one he knew Taehyung was soft for.

“Shush,” Taehyung laughed. “Okay, so, then, we’ll meet.”

This was it. “And - And what will we do?”

Taehyung gave a whimsical sigh. “I don’t know, Hyung. That’s kind of up to you as well.”

Yoongi hummed. “Ah, well. Maybe I’ll make you listen to my one man trumpet show. I’m pretty good, you know.”

Something buzzed outside the room. Their time was up.

“Oh, that’s us,” Taehyung said. He dropped his feet to the floor, turning to Yoongi. “Come on, we have some cake to buy.”

“Cake for lunch?” Yoongi smiled. “I know just the place.”

After the meeting, where the cake went down surprisingly well, Taehyung sent Yoongi away. “You can’t see me buying the outfit, Yoongi-hyung, it would ruin the effect. I’ll see you there.”

Without any real push back, Yoongi agreed. Sort of. Instead, he pulled a beanie out of his bag and followed the younger man from a distance. Half an hour in, he established that Taehyung definitely was just shopping and abandoned his post. 

What was so important about this meetup that would make Taehyung cry? If he was honest, Yoongi couldn’t even remember arranging it. Clearly, though, it was important enough to Taehyung to buy a whole new outfit. Yoongi dropped his head onto the dorm table, hard enough that Seokjin exclaimed as he walked by, “Ah, you. Why aren’t you in your studio, instead of scaring me half to death?” 

These thoughts whirled in Yoongi’s head until Taehyung appeared, shopping bags in tow. 

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “Will you be doing several wardrobe changes?”

Taehyung simply stuck out his tongue, which Yoongi dutifully returned, and scurried to his room. Just before he vanished Yoongi shouted out, “I’m going to the studio, Taehyung. But - But I’ll see you there?”

“Okay!” Taehyung called, closing the door on his words.

But Yoongi wasn’t going to the studio. Instead, he loitered with intent outside of the dorm. 

As the sun got lower in the sky and Yoongi started to feel the cool air trickle through his jacket, the door finally opened. Taehyung came out looking - He looked nervous, Yoongi thought. His new outfit was nice, billowing dark trousers belted tightly at his waist, with a dark top and a tan brown waistcoat. He’d worn his wire-rimmed glasses. He only ever did that if he wanted to impress. Why the hell would he need to impress Yoongi?

Yoongi was pushed into action when the other man waved down a car that was just approaching, however. “Ah, shit,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, barrelling towards the entrance to the underground car park. By the time he’d driven back to street level, Taehyung’s car was gone, but Yoongi sailed on regardless. 

He had an idea. 

Pulling into the car park near Yeouido Park, Yoongi’s confidence grew that this was the right place. Not knowing exactly when or where they were supposed to meet was a struggle, though. He wandered aimlessly around the park for about forty-five minutes before he spotted a familiar-looking figure sitting on a bench along the way. 

Taehyung was facing away from Yoongi, his head following the path of every person that walked in front of him. The sight pulled at something in Yoongi’s chest. He wasn’t sure what, but it made him feel ill. His heart began to race and his hands felt sticky and he couldn’t - Oh, he definitely couldn’t go meet Taehyung. Not today. He’d done enough today, he’d just - He’d just leave it for now. Yes, one more day would be fine. Taehyung wasn’t even that upset, really, was he? Nothing he wouldn’t get over. 

Yes, that’s it, Yoongi thought, nodding to himself as he headed back down the path. One more day. 

~

One more day turned into two days, turned into five days, turned into a week. 

He spent most of those with Taehyung and he revelled in it. Each day was lighter, the way that only Taehyung could make it. Even though the other man was living the same day, he never seemed to repeat himself. Yoongi was careful to steer the conversation away from their meetup later. He didn’t want to talk about, he didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to laugh with Taehyung, until his belly ached and his cheeks stung. 

Plus, he was getting pretty damn good at balancing all his competing demands. Sure, the time he could give his attention to the others was less, but it still worked a bit. Nobody ended up in as high spirits as the best days, but it was miles better than the worst. Yoongi was counting it as a win. 

The problem was the park. 

Sometimes Yoongi went there, stood as close to the bench as he dared, and watched. Taehyung didn’t move from that bench for a whole hour. Even as the sun set around him, as kids were called back to their parents, as the food stall packed up and closed its shutters. Taehyung stayed. 

And still, Yoongi couldn’t walk those few steps towards him. 

Most of the time he didn’t even try. He stayed as far away from the park as he could. He tried to kid himself that the blame was a little less that way. It’s not like he caused Taehyung’s upset, he wasn’t even there, he didn’t even do anything, so how could it be his fault? It sounded like bullshit even as he said it to himself.

In some kind of perverse twist, like someone was watching what Yoongi was doing and punishing him for it, the happier that Taehyung seemed in the day, the sadder he was in the evening. The worst day, or the best day, Yoongi thought, depended on how you looked at it, Taehyung had sobbed. He had bawled his eyes out, so that he couldn’t speak, could barely even breathe. 

It had summoned everyone from their rooms. 

Yoongi couldn’t watch it and do nothing. And Taehyung had just clung to him. 

“I’m an idiot,” he’d cried. “An idiot. So stupid, why did I even think - Stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Taehyung,” Yoongi had muttered, arms wrapped around him, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. “I’m stupid. I’m a coward,” he croaked. “I’m a complete coward.”

He was right. It was time to stop kidding himself. This was the hard part, and maybe, just maybe, it would be the answer.

~

“Taehyung and I are going to be a little late to practice today,” Yoongi said, the following morning.

He’d thought about it a little more before he went to bed and, really, he needed to talk to Taehyung. If all the messing about with time loops was getting him nowhere, then a good old fashioned cup of honesty might be just what they needed.

 “I’ll always help you, Hyung.”

“Great,” Yoongi breathed out as the two stood in the middle of his room. “That’s great, Tae, ‘cause -” He stumbled, not entirely sure how he wanted to say this. “You see, the thing is, I think you’re the answer. I don’t know what else it could be.”

“Me?” Taehyung questioned, pointing at his own chest.

“Yes,” Yoongi whined. “I don’t meet you at the park, and it makes you so sad, and I think that’s what’s keeping me here. I mean, what else could it be?” He could feel his heart pummelling against his chest. To his horror, heat bubbled behind his eyes. His voice cracked. “But - But I’m scared to do it, ‘cause - It just seems to Goddamn important to you, Taehyung, and I don’t know why we’re meeting. If I do meet with you, I’ll fuck it up. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He blinked hard, trying to clear his eyes. “So just - So just help me, please.”

“Yoongi-hyung, please don’t be sad,” Taehyung comforted.

“I need to know why it’s important.”

Taehyung sighed, gnawing at his lip. He looked up, eyes wide, mouth downturned. Yoongi braced himself. “If you don’t know,” Taehyung said softly. “I can’t tell you.”

“But I’ll be stuck -”

“No,” Taehyung cut him off, miserably, his face scrunched up. “I can’t tell you. I won’t ever tell you, no matter how many times you repeat today.”

Yoongi couldn’t think clearly. He opened his mouth to speak several times before settling on a small, “Why not?”

Taehyung seemed to search the air for an answer. He shrugged. “Because it’s not something I know how to say,” he said, simply. 

Yoongi didn’t know how to respond to that. He stayed silent as Taehyung reached out and squeezed his hand, before turning his back on him and leaving.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He spent the rest of the day in a funk, almost like he had done that first week. The members sent him concerned looks all through practice. Taehyung seemed to have taken on Yoongi’s mantel with relish, making sure that everyone was happy. And he did it so well, so easily, Yoongi thought, as he watched the other man talk softly with Jeongguk, guiding him gently to sit down near the corner. 

Even later, he came out of Namjoon’s room looking pleased and skipped over to Jimin’s room. Yoongi remained prone on the sofa. Of course Taehyung could do it all without trouble. That’s what Taehyung did. He made the world a brighter place. 

“Hyung.”

“Oh, shit,” Yoong startled as Taehyung’s voice sounded just next to his ears. “You scared me.”

Taehyung smiled, not quite reaching his eyes, where he crouched down next to the sofa. “Hobi and I were going to go to the sauna. Do you want to come?”

Yoongi dropped back into the cushions “No, thanks. I’m just going to,” he waved his arms above himself, hoping to reassure Taehyung of he didn’t know what.

“Okay.” Taehyung squinted towards the door like he was thinking about something. “Hyung,” he said, looking back to where Yoongi lay prone. “Please don’t - Please don’t beat yourself up.”

Yoongi let out a huff. “I’m fine. I’m just being dramatic.”

It was quiet for a moment, then, Taehyung’s beautiful voice came, “You’re my favourite person, you know that? Out of all the people in the world.”

“Tae -” Yoongi grimaced.

“No, you are. I’m serious,” Taehyung insisted. “So, if you don’t want me to be sad, you can’t be sad either, alright?” The pair of them looked at each other. There was no escape. Yoongi nodded. 

Taehyung sent him a sad smile. “I’ll bring you back some barbeque,” he said and leant down to press his lips to Yoongi’s temple. 

After the door clicked shut, Yoongi let himself cover his face and cry. He cried until he’d worn himself out. It didn’t take long, his mind was already tired. After that, though, he found himself in the dorm with not much to do. Taehyung was out with Hoseok. Namjoon had gone to the studio. Seokjin was bumbling around the dorm, doing nothing in particular, but doing it happily. He assumed that Jeongguk and Jimin were somewhere in the building, though not making themselves known any time soon. 

Maybe - No. Yoongi pushed the thought away as soon as it materialised. It was persistent. Nobody would know. If he was quick, if he was quiet. He could just take a look around Taehyung’s room, see if there were any clues, any hint as to what the hell he was expecting Yoongi to do. 

He sat on the sofa, digging his teeth into his lip, physically frozen in indecision. 

Isn’t this exactly what Hoseok and Jimin had fought about? Worse, even, and look how bad it had gotten for them. 

On the other hand, though, Yoongi countered to himself, they weren’t stuck in a time loop with their only hope for rescue lying in whatever the other might have hidden. At least, that’s what it felt like. 

Sod it. Yoongi pushed himself up and made a beeline for Taehyung’s room. 

The second he entered a sense of panic whirled inside his chest. What was he even looking for? There was so much stuff here. Taehyung was someone who cultivated the space around him into a kind of organised clutter and, for a minute, Yoongi didn’t even know where to start. 

Deciding that the cupboards and drawers where his best bet, he set to it. 

There was a lot to get through, boxes and bags full of old clothes, books, magazines, old dog toys, even. Yoongi was careful to replace everything just as he’d found it. 

His skin prickled as he began to rifle through the space at greater speed. 

“What the hell, Taehyung?” he muttered under his breath, after pulling an assortment of what looked like chains from a box at the bottom of his wardrobe. He set them back, sorely hoping he’d only stumbled upon a questionable fashion trend. 

Eventually, after he felt like he’d searched everywhere, somewhat impressed that he’d not found anything more sordid, Yoongi sat back on his heels. By the window, a tower of intricately designed wooden boxes had been stacked on top of each other as if to make a bedside table. He shuffled closer, still on his knees. 

It was the bottom box that had caught his attention. 

It was stained a deep blue, stars and moons carved out into the panels. As he removed all of the boxes on top he felt his hands tingle. This was it. One step closer to the answer. 

He unclasped the small metal clip and eased the lid open. 

It wasn’t very full. Some pictures, some notes, some trinkets. But then, hang on . He squinted closer. Those were pictures of him , of him and Taehyung. Those were notes that he’d written, things where he’d written about Taehyung for broadcasts or interviews. Taehyung must have saved them. That was - That was his ring that he’d given to Taehyung after the other man had said he’d like it. 

Yoongi frowned. 

At the side was a small envelope. When he peered inside a tiny, delicate blue flower fluttered into his open palm. It had been flattened and dried and carefully kept. 

A forget-me-not. 

There was a note inside the envelope as well. As if on auto-drive Yoongi pulled it out. 

‘The flower Yoongi gave me. He promised to take me on a date, but only if I’m serious! I have to wait for a whole year. If I still want to go out with him on 26 March next year, then he’ll know I mean it! I’m counting down the days.’ 

He’d drawn a heart at the bottom.

Yoongi’s stomach lurched.

He remembered that. Now it was laid out before him, he could recall the scene like it was yesterday. They’d been busy preparing for their last album release. It had been mad and Taehyung had snuck him away for an evening to look at the stars. He remembered telling Taehyung that, that he’d date him in a year, if he still wanted, but he hadn’t meant it . Taehyung hadn’t been serious when he said he’d wanted to take Yoongi out, so Yoongi had responded with a joke as well. Taehyung wasn’t supposed to take it seriously. They were drunk, or Yoongi was drunk. Taehyung had been smiling, laughing like he did, like Yoongi was the funniest person in the world. It was a joke. 

Yoongi felt sick. 

No wonder Taehyung was upset. He’d waited a whole year and Yoongi hadn’t even thought, hadn’t even dreamed that it was real. 

“Well, shit.”

~

Though he was ashamed to admit it to himself, he spent the next few iterations of the day panicking to the point of distraction. Rather than making anything better, he seemed to just frustrate all those around him, without even trying. 

“Yoongi-hyung! For God’s sake, will you please pay attention. You almost stood on Jimin’s foot,” Hoseok half yelled, half groaned at him during rehearsals. “What is up with you today?”

If there was one positive about it all, at least he redirected Jeongguk’s ire away from Seokjin.

“You should stay behind as well,” Jeongguk muttered, as the rest of them went to leave Seokjin and Hoseok to their extra practice. “You need it.”

“Guk!” Taehyung gasped.

“Well, you should mind your own fucking business,” Yoongi snapped. 

Jeongguk blinked at him, gobsmacked, while Taehyung opened and shut his mouth a few times, words failing him. He looked like a fish. 

Yoongi could feel a lecture coming on from the way Namjoon had turned towards him. Hell, he didn’t need this today. Not waiting around, he elbowed past Jeongguk and clattered down the steps. 

Before long he’d arrived at his own apartment, not entirely realising that’s where he’d intended to go. It had been a long time since he’d spent the day here, but right now the isolation was just what he needed.

The thing was, Yoongi had been thinking - it seemed like that was all he was able to do, like he couldn’t turn his mind off - about Taehyung’s forget-me-not. Or, really, about what it meant. Or could mean? He didn’t know. 

It’s just, Taehyung liked him, was completely heartbroken when he didn’t show. That - That was a lot. It had been so long since Yoongi had even thought about dating, and while he definitely hadn’t been serious at the time … what about now? Did he want to date Taehyung now?

The answer wasn’t a definitive no. 

So, yes, Yoongi was panicking.

He just needed to sit down and think it through, rationally. 

Taking a beer from the fridge, he sat down at his stupidly large kitchen table and ignored the phone in his pocket that he knew was lighting up with all the messages from the others. He turned off his location.

Sure, he liked Taehyung. Who didn’t? Taehyung was a very likeable person. He was kind and funny and sweet and charming. Yoongi loved spending time with him. The days he’d spent with Taehyung in this loop had been some of the best, and Yoongi was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the sauna. 

And, he admitted, he was beautiful. His smile and his laugh and the way he was always so soft when he held Yoongi’s hand. 

Maybe - One date didn’t have to mean anything too drastic, did it?

But, then, they’d pretty much done all of that already. They knew each other’s best and worst, had fallen asleep together on the sofa, had gotten lost together in strange new cities, had cried together, laughed together. Hell, his own mother always asked after Taehyung, and Taehyung’s mother, in return, always sent Yoongi a message on special occasions. They knew each other, better than anyone. Taehyung had seen him at his very worst during this time loop. Angry and upset and frustrated and sad, and he’d always tried to comfort him, he’d always been there. 

‘I’ll be with you from now on.’ Taehyung’s words filled his head, now. God. He’d said that to Yoongi, even after Yoongi had deserted him, had forgotten something so important.

Taehyung was the person he trusted the most, really. He had been the only person Yoongi had wanted to tell about all this time loop nonsense, sure, but it was more than that. There was a reason that Taehyung had pulled him out of the crazy schedule that day, rather than anyone else. That’s what they did. Taehyung looked out for him, and he looked out for Taehyung. 

He tried to picture it, then, Taehyung with someone else. Another, faceless being meeting him at that park bench, holding his hand, making him smile, being the one comforting and supporting him. Kissing him, maybe. 

And Yoongi hated it. Hated even the idea of it. 

What if it was him? 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he muttered under his breath. What did this mean? Did this mean - “I’m in love with Taehyung,” he said, his words met with the quiet stillness of his apartment. Still, they felt right. 

Yoongi smiled, his heart beating in his chest, his skin tingling. He let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “I’m in love with Taehyung.”

Time to do something about it.

~

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. The alarm clock blinked at him. 7.13. He had the whole day in front of him and he knew just what he was going to do. 

“I would go to the past, for sure,” Yoongi said, sliding into a seat. “That way I could undo all of my mistakes and … and cherish the moments that I missed the first time around.”

Seokjin cocked his head. “That’s … really nice, Yoongi.”

Yoongi didn’t bother to dispute it. “Yeah. Hey, Hobi, can you look out for Jeongguk today? He’s been pushing himself too hard, I reckon he’s going to do himself some damage.”

“Do you think?” Hoseok said, sounding a little surprised. 

“I do think,” Yoongi nodded. He held Hoseok’s gaze, waiting for the other man to take him seriously.

“He just left, though.”

“Early training, I know.”

There were a few more beats of silence before Hoseok sighed and hopped off his seat, taking his toast with him. “I’ll go after him.”

“You’re an angel.”

“I know.” 

Yoongi grinned as Hoseok threw him a finger heart. “I’ll do you a favour,” he added. “I’ll talk to Jimin.”

“Jimin?” Hoseok paused in his tracks. “How - Did he say something to you? What did he say?”

“Enough. I’ll talk to him.”

Hoseok nodded, pouting a little and passing Namjoon and Taehyung as he left. He held out his palm for a high-five, which Namjoon missed quite wonderfully.

“Where’s Hobi off to?” Namjoon half grunted while Hoseok’s cackles echoed down the corridor. 

“Jeongguk catching,” Yoongi replied. He was out of his seat already, his eyes on Taehyung. 

The other man’s hair was sleep tousled, still clad in his pyjamas. When Yoongi wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s back and burrowed into his neck, he could almost feel the softness of his skin, the heat emanating from him.

“Oh,” Taehyung croaked. “Morning, Hyung.” Yoongi didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. He was doubly sure when a hand settled at the small of his back and in his hair, holding him in the embrace. 

“Hi, Tae.” Yoongi’s reply was a little lost as he muttered against Taehyung’s shoulder, but he didn’t move.

If Seokjin and Namjoon thought it was an unusual way to say good morning, they didn’t mention it, but just carried on with their breakfasts as the pair broke apart. “What are you having?” Taehyung asked.

“Oh, Jeongguk ate the last of my cereal.” 

“Little shit.”

“S’all right,” Yoongi shrugged. He smiled, deep and wide. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, that he hadn’t even known he was carrying. “Means I can have the stuff with marshmallows in.”

Namjoon clicked his tongue. “You can have some of mine.”

Yoongi wrinkled his nose and Seokjin and Taehyung laughed. “Nah, thanks, Hyung.”

Dance practice went as well as it possibly could with Yoongi mooning like an idiot at Taehyung every other second, which Taehyung seemed to enjoy. It was as if every time he had to nudge Yoongi and mutter, “Hyung, Hobi’s talking to you,” the light around him burned a little brighter, a little hotter. 

And sending Hoseok to Jeongguk had evidently done the job. The other man was jumping about with a grin on his face, whispering to Jimin in the corner whenever they had a break. Yoongi suspected his ridiculous behaviour was the cause of that particular change, but c’est la vie. Another change, however, was that Hoseok and Seokjin didn’t stay behind to practice, instead arranging to come back early tomorrow. It meant that Yoongi could grab Seokjin as the other’s chatted and packed up. He dragged him off to a far corner. 

“Jin-hyung.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin said, smirking like a fool

“What?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing,” the other man said in a faux offended tone. “Nice to see you happy.”

Yoongi hummed, at a loss as to how else to respond. Actually, though, now he thought about it. “Hyung,” he said. “Can I - If I tell you something, will you not mention it to anyone?”

Seokjin pursed his lips, trying - and failing - not to look excited. “I promise.”

Right. Okay, he could do this. Yoongi spared a glance across the room where the others were still caught up in conversation. “Taehyung -” he started, then bit his lip. Just, spit it out, you idiot. “Taehyung and I are going out later … on a date.”

The noise Seokjin made was somewhat strangled. “I knew it!” he all but squeaked. “I knew - Yoongi, seriously, I’ve been waiting -”

“Alright, shush, don’t hurt yourself,” Yoongi rush, grabbing onto his flailing arms. “I want to know … what to do.”

He should have known. A devilish smirk twinkled in Seokjin’s eyes. “Do you need to talk about the birds and the bees?”

“No! I just -” Yoongi groaned, grimacing at his own words. “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Ah, Yoongi,” Seokjin sighed. He clapped a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “At the risk of sounding unduly sentimental, you could turn up wearing a bin bag with a gift of rotten cabbage, and Taehyung would still not be disappointed. He’s completely gross for you.”

“I just have to turn up?” It made sense, really, but given everything, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel the comment was fate giving him a big slap in the face.

“Easiest thing ever,” Seokjin agreed. His eyes widened. “But, I mean, please don’t turn up wearing a bin bag. I will find an outfit for you! Yes, it’ll be brilliant. Are you in this afternoon?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Yoongi replied apprehensively. 

“No problem, I will decide in your absence.” Seokjin was looking happier and happier with each passing second. “I’ll get Jeongguk’s second opinion. No?” he said at the unimpressed expression on Yoongi’s face. “Namjoon’s?” he tried. “Jimin’s?” Yoongi shrugged and Seokjin smiled. “You came to the right person, Yoongi.”

That reminded him. “Actually,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Oh?”

“Can you talk to Namjoon …”

Waving goodbye to Seokjin and the others, Yoongi met Taehyung outside the practice room with a wide smile on his face, walking in step on the familiar path to the sauna. It was so stupid, really, how he hadn’t seen it before. It had been staring him right in the face. 

Later, after the design meeting, Taehyung waited for him as Yoongi hovered by the door. “Hey, Jimin!” he started, but was immediately cut off as Jimin hurtled passed him.

“Sorry, Hyung,” he yelled, a blur of pink. “Jin needs me for something.”

“No - Ah, shit,” Yoongi sighed at the other man’s retreating form. 

“What’s up?” Taehyung asked.

Yoongi clicked his tongue. “No, nothing. I just need to talk to him today.” He’d have to catch him back at the dorm, then. No matter. As long as he spoke to him before he had to leave to meet Taehyung, it was fine.

“Well, go after him,” Taehyung urged. “I’m just going shopping now, anyway. I’ll see you -”

“No!” Yoongi whirled around to face the other man fully, focus back on him. “No, Taehyung, I have something to show you.”

“So many things you for you to do. Busy man,” Taehyung teased, nudging Yoongi’s shin with his foot.

In a moment of clarity, Yoongi recognised the absurdity of the blush creeping up his cheeks, even if he could do nothing to stop it. “Very busy, very important,” he said, instead. “I always make time for you, though.”

“Ah,” Taehyung, thankfully, looked equally smitten, his hand brushing at his neck. 

Do it, Yoongi thought to himself. Just grab it. Do it. “Come on,” he said, in a hurried breath, and clasped his hand around Taehyung’s, pulling him along the corridor as the other’s laughter echoed around the hall. 

“Take a seat, it might take me a while to find it,” Yoongi explained once they were in his studio. The door beeped shut and Yoongi was instantly aware of the confined space.

“Find what?” Taehyung asked, eyes curious as he obediently perched on the sofa.

Yoongi looked over his shoulder from where he was searching through his computer files. “Your song.”

It was almost comical, how wide Taehyung’s eyes became. “What?” he spluttered. 

“Well, sort of,” Yoongi amended. He focused on the screen. “I wrote this song, recorded a demo of it, years ago. I was never completely happy with it, and it wasn’t really our style, so I let it fall away.” Finally, he spun around on his chair to see Taehyung regarding him with a soft expression. “But, I’ve been thinking. It’s about you. Or, it’s yours. I wrote it for you.”

“Hyung, are - You’re serious?” Taehyung rasped. “You wrote a song for me?”

It had been swimming in Yoongi’s subconscious for a while, the faint memory of this track that had never seen the light of day. He hadn’t even shown it to Namjoon, but had never forgotten it. Back when they were struggling, and Yoongi had still been somewhat baffled by the way Taehyung just lived as he was. Now, it made a little more sense. That, actually, it wasn’t confusion, but the beginning of a flood that delivered him to this moment. 

He found the file then, hidden in an abandoned drafts folder. 

“Yeah - Ah, here we are. Okay,” he took a breath, finger hovering above the mouse. “So, Taehyung, I wasn’t joking when I said I wasn’t super happy with it. It’s just a rough cut and, like, ignore my vocals, but I wanted you to hear it.” He ran his tongue across his lip, squinting at the ceiling. “I just - You’re so -” he stammered, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Ha, I don’t - What I mean is, that I’m excited for later and I want you to hear this before tonight, so that you know I’m serious.”

Taehyung smiled. “I - I don’t know what to say.”

“You want to listen?”

Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever seen Taehyung nod quite so enthusiastically. Please like it, he thought. 

The song filtered through the speakers and Yoongi stared at Taehyung’s face. Taehyung, in turn, focused his gaze on the floor. It was a slow song, not quite a ballad. Yoongi’s voice accompanied the dancing piano melody. Yoongi shifted a little closer, watching Taehyung as he listened to the lyrics. It was a song about being true to yourself, about being loved for who you really were, about someone remembering the small things about you. Yoongi hoped it wasn’t too on the nose.

“What do you think?” he croaked as the song faded away.

“Hyung,” Taehyung beamed up at him and Yoongi felt a pressure release from his chest. “I love it. I love it, thank you. Thank you, it’s perfect, it’s - I can’t believe it! Hyung, I thought you didn’t like me back then?”

Yoongi winced. “Ah, Taehyung. I always liked you,” he said.

“I always liked you, too,” the other man returned with a small smile. “What’s it called?”

“Oh, er, I don’t know,” Yoongi shrugged. Then he grinned. “How about you name it?”

Taehyung bit his lip, thinking for a moment. He seemed to hesitate for a second more before saying, “Forget-me-not.”

“‘Forget-me-not’,” Yoongi repeated, words breathy. He blinked. “Perfect.”

~

“Where the hell is Jimin?” he demanded later, as Seokjin whirled around him, surveying him from all angles. 

“He’s gone, who cares!” Seokjin dismissed, with a wave of his hand. He looked exasperated. “Yoongi, pay attention, your buttons aren’t aligned properly.”

“No, look,” Yoongi went as far as to stomp his foot, freshly ironed shirt (“Blue,” Seokjin had said, “It makes you look deep. Like an ocean.”) crinkling where it came untucked from his tight jeans. “I need to speak with him, otherwise he’ll still be pissed at Hobi.”

How the hell had this happened? It was all on track before, but now it was five minutes until he absolutely had to leave to meet Taehyung or risk being late and he’d yet to convince Jimin to forgive Hoseok. 

“I appreciate the concern, and I’m sure Hobi would,” Seokjin tried to placate him, hands resting on Yoongi’s arms, “but there’s not really much you can do about it now. I think he went out to gossip with Jeongguk, so he’s long gone.”

“Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“Yoongi, what’s the big deal?” Seokjin asked, almost laughing.

“It’s not - It needs to be the best version,” Yoongi mumbled, knowing there was no way he could get Seokjin to understand.

“Oh, you’ve lost it,” Seokjin nodded. “The pressure’s got to you.” He gasped, jabbing a finger at Yoongi’s alarm clock. “Come on, you need to leave. Be charming! Bring some flowers!” 

He shuffled Yoongi out of his room, shoving his wallet and keys into his chest. 

“Oh, you look nice, Hyung,” Namjoon said, crossing the hall from his bedroom to the kitchen. “Going somewhere fancy?”

“Park,” Yoongi muttered, walking towards the door in a daze. 

Namjoon frowned. “The park? Alright. Have fun.”

After Seokjin closed the door on him, Yoongi proceeded to stand, motionless in the hallway for a good minute. If this was the answer, if meeting Taehyung would let him wake up tomorrow, how far did he have to go? Had he already done too much? Maybe just telling Taehyung that he liked him was enough?

No, he thought, he hadn’t told him anything more serious than he’d done before. There’s no reason he wouldn’t just start the day again. And if he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. Like Taehyung had said, all those iterations ago, everyone was going to have the best day that they could.

“Sorry, Taehyung. Tomorrow will be better,” he muttered, shooting off a text apology to him - the very least he could do. “I’ll do it right.”

Deciding to spend his time wisely, he headed to the flower market. Seokjin had said bring flowers. He was going to find the best damn flowers in the whole city.

~

The sound of the front door banging shut jolted Yoongi awake. This was it. The last time he was going to wake up to that sound, to the mess strewn about the room, to the same cars honking their horns in the distance. Part of Yoongi thought to savour it. The bigger part told him to get the hell out of bed and catch Jeongguk or it wouldn’t be the last of anything.

“Jeongguk, wait up!”

“Er, I thought I’d get a work out in before practice.”

“Terrible idea.”

“Fine, here, take my card.”

“Come with me. No arguing.”

At the store, Yoongi felt like he was walking on air. He’d lived this day so many times before, been to this store, with these very same customers more times than he could remember. They were as familiar to him as the sound of Hoseok’s laugh, or the funny way Seokjin tied his shoes. He hummed along with the song playing on the radio, knowing the tune by heart.

“Why are you so happy?” Jeongguk asked at his side, a box of cereal clutched to his chest. He was smiling wide at Yoongi, his cheeks bunched up like Yoongi was doing something truly absurd.

Yoongi took a deep breath, smiling back. “It’s a good day. The sky is blue, birds are singing, there’s a song in my heart,” he teased, nudging Jeongguk with his hip.

“Whatever you say, Hyung.”

At practice, Yoongi grinned his way through the choreography, laughing freely and easily at every joke and every quip. He’d decided that he would try to live the day as close as possible to the first time with, of course, some improvements. Though it meant that he didn’t get to spend that much time with Taehyung, he figured he could more than make up for it in the long run. 

“Tough one, huh? It’s going to look so cool, though,” Jimin said, dropping to the spot on the floor next to him. 

“Sure is,” he replied. He raised his voice a little, eyeing the way Seokjin grimaced as he mimicked the movement of lifting Hoseok, “Don’t beat yourself up, Hyung. We’ve got plenty of time. You’ll get it.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, sweat glistening on his forehead. “We can stay for a bit longer today if you want?”

Seokjin sent him a rueful smile. “That would be good.”

To Yoongi’s surprise, Jeongguk piped up as well. “I’ll stay too. Never hurts.” He’d never done that before. That must be a good sign, right?

“You’re happy today, Hyung,” Jimin commented.

Ah, he really must have been miserable in the run-up to today. “Yep,” he said. “It’s a happy day.” He flicked his gaze up to Taehyung, who was standing in front of the two of them. 

Taehyung lifted his eyebrows, blushing a little. “Yes,” he said, biting down on a smile. “Yes, it is.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes and kicked Taehyung’s foot. The other man just shrugged and spun away to help Namjoon.

“What?” Yoongi asked, playing innocent as Jimin continued to glare. He laughed as Hoseok’s voice saved him.

“Alright, up and at ‘em.”

By the end of the session Yoongi was as knackered as usual, but no amount of sweat and tired muscle could shake his spirit. Not today.

“Have fun at the sauna, Tae,” Yoongi said, waving the other off as Jimin lingered to hold the door open.

Taehyung pouted. “How did you -”

“Ah,” Yoongi sang. “Magic.” He winked and Taehyung laughed before heading out. He turned back to the room where Namjoon was tugging on his shoes, looking a little frazzled. “Namjoon,” Yoongi started. “Before you rush off.”

~

Yoongi set the bags of greasy, fried food on the table as the design team set up. He’d started buying more in the past couple of weeks, enough for the designers to grab a helping after their presentation. “Grubs up,” he called.

“Ah, you’re a good dongsaeng. Anyone says otherwise, you send them to me,” Seokjin joked as they all descended. 

When one of the designers - Jihye, Yoongi had learnt after months of listening to the quiet conversation between them - indicated they were ready, silence began to fall. 

“Jimin,” he hissed. “I need to talk to you after, will you hang around?”

Wordlessly, Jimin sent him a thumbs up, just as the lights dimmed.

When the time came to answer questions, Taehyung got in first, as usual. But Seokjin and Jeongguk weren’t far behind. Namjoon volunteered a brief, “I like how it fades from one shade to another.”

“It looks awesome,” Yoongi added at the end. “Here’s hoping for another Grammy nomination,” he teased, and Jihye beamed.

As usual, when they began packing away and filing out of the room, Hoseok pushed forward. “Jimin, wait up,” he called. 

“Sorry, Hoseok,” Yoongi interrupted before Jimin could answer. “I’m stealing him for a sec. I will deliver him back to you, promise.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Hoseok said, looking bemused. He turned to Jimin and let out a breathy, “Bye,” which Jimin ignored.

“See you later, Hyung,” Taehyung half yelled from the end of the corridor where Jeongguk was tugging at his sleeve, trying to show him something on his phone.

“Yeah, see you, Tae,” Yoongi shouted back. This time, he intended to follow through.

Focusing his attention back on Jimin, the other man asked, “What did you want to talk about? Is it Taehyung?”

“No. It’s you. Or, more specifically, you and Hobi.” Jimin’s shoulders dropped and Yoongi curled an arm around his back. “Come on, let’s get some coffee.” 

~

Taehyung appeared at the dorm later, ladened with his shopping bags. From his vantage point at the far end of the dining room table, Yoongi went unnoticed. His palms cradled his hot tea and he shrugged at Namjoon, who wandered by with a questioning smile on his face. He waited. 

“Hyung!” came Taehyung’s eventual yell. The other man came barging into the dining area, a delicate bouquet of forget-me-nots held to his chest. “Are these from you?”

Yoongi nodded, smiling. “Unless you have any other suitors chasing after you.”

“‘Suitors’,” Taehyung scoffed. “They’re perfect, thank you.” He beamed, running his fingers across a few of the small petals. “It’s funny, before today, I - Ah,” he trailed off with a sigh. 

“No, what?”

“It’s stupid. I was - I suppose I was just a little worried that you’d forgotten,” Taehyung admitted. He raised the bunch of flowers. “Seems silly, now, obviously.” 

It’s not silly at all, Yoongi thought. He hummed. “No so much. How quickly can you get ready?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You bought a new outfit, right?” Yoongi asked. “How long will it take? I want to take you out.”

“But, we’re already going out, that’s the whole idea.”

“Well,” Yoongi said, a smile tugging at his cheeks. “I don’t want to wait until this evening.”

Taehyung laughed and wrinkled his nose, squinted over at Yoongi when he said, “Give me half an hour.”

“It’s all yours.”

Retreating to his room, Yoongi carefully dressed in the clothes that Seokjin of the previous iteration had selected for him. In the mirror, he looked okay, if a little pale. He took a steadying breath. This was the only way. He couldn’t start out lying to Taehyung, not about something as big as this. He’d have to start by disappointing him and try to work his way up. 

The sun was still shining when they arrived at the little cafe Yoongi had found all those cycles ago, though the air was starting to cool in the late afternoon. Taehyung peered around the displays, smiling at a small pastry hedgehog. 

“There you go,” Yoongi said, placing a steaming and frothy mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of him. 

“It’s not really hot chocolate season,” Taehyung chastised, before taking a long sip, froth catching on his nose. 

Yoongi leaned over to wipe it away. “It’s hot chocolate season whenever I’m with you.”

“Ah, shush.”

He sat back against the metal chair. This was it, then. The moment of truth. “Taehyung, I need to tell you something, and you have to let me finish, first, okay?”

“Sounds serious,” Taehyung replied, eyes glimmering. 

“It is,” Yoongi said. It was horrid to see Taehyung’s smile flicker like it did. “I mean, I hope it doesn’t have to be, but - Oh, I’ll just start.” 

So he did. He told Taehyung everything. The first shitty day, the second shitty day, the third shitty day. His motivation to seize the moment and extended absences. How he stopped caring about the world, and the world stopped caring about him. How he’d told him this all before, time and time again. The way Taehyung was the only reason he got back on course, got him helping the others instead of hurting them. That he never remembered why they were supposed to meet, and Taehyung was always so sad. How he’d been more scared about sitting on that bench with him than of all the horrors and monsters in the world. 

Through it all, Taehyung listened, his eyes growing sadder and sadder with each word Yoongi uttered. 

“And I know I’m a piece of shit,” Yoongi groaned, “and I’m so sorry and I really love you. Please don’t hate me. Please forgive me.”

A beat of silence turned into two, into three.

“You’re being serious?” Taehyung croaked, eventually. “You’re not teasing me?”

“I’m completely serious.”

“Alright,” he said, softly. “Alright, I - That’s a lot.” He gripped the spoon of his drink and dragged it through the dregs. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi offered, watching the dark liquid part and reform. “It’s been a long day.” He reached out and ran his fingers along the back of Taehyung’s wrist. The other man held still. “Taehyung, I didn’t remember it first, but now you are the only thing I’m thinking about.”

“To break the cycle,” Taehyung said, dully. 

“No!” Yoongi burst out, lowering his voice at the startled look from the cashier. “Because I love you .”

Taehyung went quiet and Yoongi - Yoongi didn’t know what else to say. The two of them stayed there, Yoongi’s arm stretched across the small table, for what felt like an eternity. Around them, people came and went, tables were tidied away and reset, and still Taehyung was quiet, staring at the place Yoongi’s hand touched his. 

Eventually, the other man raised his head. “It’s almost time,” he said, voice thick. “The park.”

“Oh,” Yoongi blinked, pulling his arm away and following Taehyung’s lead as he rose to his feet. “Yeah. Sure.”

You’ve fucked it up, Min Yoongi, he thought to himself on the ride to the park. You’ve royally fucked it up. The biggest fuck-up to ever have fucked - 

Soft fingertips traced his palm and Yoongi looked over to see Taehyung’s arm scaling the space between them in the back of the car, bringing their hands together. Yoongi blinked and Taehyung sent him a small smile. 

Perhaps not completely fucked up. 

“You saw me here, then?” Taehyung said when they’d reached the bench. He’d let go of Yoongi’s hand once they’d left the car and Yoongi tried not to read too much into the now cold skin of his palm. “Waiting?”

“Yeah, a few times. I was scared for you to see me.”

“That sounds about right.”

Looking around, Yoongi recognised a few of the faces, the families wondering the path. He watched as a cheerful stall vendor he’d met on a version of this day a few weeks ago (“You were about to call me grandfather, I could sense it. Let’s at least meet in the middle and go with uncle.”) crouched down to hand a small child an ice cream. 

His nerves were buzzing. He needed Taehyung to get it, to understand. He was the idiot in this situation. Nobody else. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and headphones, taking a second to scroll to the right thing. 

“Here,” he said, holding up the earbuds. 

Taehyung eyed him a little warily. “What is it?”

“Your song. I showed it to you yesterday, as well. It’s one I wrote a while ago, for you. Though, I didn’t know it at the time.”

“You wrote a song for me?” Taehyung said, softly.

Yoongi nodded. “Take a listen.”

He held his breath as he watched Taehyung listen. For three minutes, the small twitch of his mouth, the crinkling of his nose, the widening of his eyes, they were Yoongi’s entire world. When it came to an end, he found he was still breathing and Taehyung was smiling, eyes wetter than they had been. 

“I love it,” he said. “I love it, thank you. Thank you, it’s perfect, it’s - It’s all just so hard to believe, you know?”

“Yeah. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Ah, Hyung, I -” Taehyung shrugged a little, sucking on his lips until they were a narrow line. “It doesn’t matter, really. It makes sense, even. I liked you so much, I just convinced myself that you were serious, even though you never -” he sighed, gazing off into the distance before turning his focus onto Yoongi. “You mean it now?” he asked.

“So much, Taehyung,” Yoongi said, honestly.

“Then, it doesn’t matter.” Taehyung shrugged again, smiling this time. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

He’d been so scared that he wouldn’t hear them that, when they came, the words felt like a punch to the gut. “I’ve been such a fucking idiot,” Yoongi rushed out. “It took me so long, so many cycles to realise that I loved you. No -” He frowned. That wasn’t right, that’s not what he meant. He had to get it right. Taehyung had to know. “I mean, it took me this long to realise how easy it is for me to love you. Taehyung, it’s so easy, I didn’t even realise I was doing it.” He laughed, light and bright, as he realised something. “Even if this doesn’t work, I don’t care. I’ll spend forever this way if it means I get to be with you.”

Taehyung looked a little pained for a moment, before he whipped his head around, eyes surveying the diminishing number of people around them. He turned back to Yoongi and leaned closer. 

He’s going to kiss me, Yoongi thought, in a panic. “No,” he squeaked, baulking at the horrified look on Taehyung’s face. “No, I mean, I want to, I just -” he tried to reassure. “In case it doesn’t work. I don’t want to be the only one to remember our first kiss.”

Taehyung softened. His eyes flickered between Yoongi’s own. “It’ll work,” he said. He sounded certain. “I know it.”

Arriving home late, Yoongi felt like he was in a dream. He let Taehyung guide him, listening to the sounds of the dorm. Seokjin playing a soft tune on his guitar, Namjoon muttering to himself loud enough to travel through the closed door, Jimin and Jeongguk chattering away in Jimin’s room. 

Hoseok emerged from the kitchen in his pyjamas, hands curled around a large mug of something steaming. His eyes looked a little heavy, like he was already half asleep. 

“Hey, guys,” he mumbled and nodded his head at Taehyung. “Cute waistcoat.”

“Thanks.”

“‘Night.”

The two of them sent him a soft ‘goodnight’ and watched as he shuffled back to his room. When the door opened Yoongi caught a sliver of Jimin and Jeongguk sitting on top of the bed covers, giggling at something on Jimin’s phone. 

“Taehyung.” Yoongi turned to him, suddenly, unbearably desperate not to be left alone. “Will you - Will you stay with me, just, for the company?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung breathed, nodding before Yoongi had even finished speaking. “Yes, of course. Let me get changed.”

After Yoongi had cleared away his laundry, had closed the blinds and plugged his phone in to charge, Taehyung crawled under the duvet beside him. His pyjamas were soft and his breath tickled Yoongi’s skin. He let himself be surrounded by Taehyung’s warmth and curled his fingers around his arm.

“Goodnight, Hyung,” Taehyung whispered in his ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi said, barely audible. “Tomorrow.”

He closed his eyes and wished.

~

When Yoongi jolted awake, it was like falling in a dream. He hit the ground and opened his eyes before squeezing them shut again almost immediately. Please, he prayed. Please, please, please .

Sneaking one eyelid open, he turned his head to the side. 

The bed next to him was empty. The clock on the bedside table blinked at him. 7:13.

“No,” Yoongi groaned, sitting up. 

He pouted, aware that it was all just self-pity. Perhaps he could have this day for himself, though? A little variation would be good, he could still - 

His thoughts came to a halt. His joggers and t-shirt weren’t strewn across the floor, his hand simply hovered above the clear carpet as he made to reach for them. Hang on. Hang on, shit, shit, shit. He was wearing new pyjamas, the ones he’d changed into last night. 

Holy shit, it had worked!

Scrambling out of bed he almost tripped over the corner of the duvet before he wrenched his bedroom door open. Namjoon looked up from his smoothie in alarm when he ran into the kitchen.

“Morning, Hyung,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“What day is it?” he asked, well aware of how mad he looked. 

“Er - Wednesday?” Namjoon replied, crinkling his nose like he was hoping that was the answer Yoongi was looking for. 

It was.

Yoongi let out a whoop, raising his arms above his head. 

Hoseok walked in then and high-fived Yoongi’s open palm. “Yeah, morning,” he cheered. “Loving the enthusiasm first thing.”

Across the dorm, Yoongi spotted Seokjin and Jimin on the sofa, eating breakfast, both absorbed in something on the television. 

It was all so ordinary, so plain. But it was different and that meant it was perfect. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” he asked, a little breathless. 

Namjoon grunted. “Left with Jeongguk about half an hour ago. Mentioned something about breakfast. Ah,” Namjoon nodded to the front door as it swung open. “Speak of the devil.”

On seeing Yoongi waiting, Jeongguk clicked his tongue from the entryway. “Two days in a row I’ve had to buy your breakfast, Hyung,” he teased. “People might start to wonder who the real dongsaeng is in this relationship.”

Yoongi ignored him, too focused on the man behind him. Taehyung was sliding his shoes off, grinning at Yoongi from ear to ear. Not soon enough he was bounding towards Yoongi, dropping the shopping bags on the floor and catching him in an all-consuming embrace. 

“Sorry, I thought I could get back in time. You didn’t freak out when I wasn’t there? Did you see my note? It’s Wednesday, Hyung! I wanted to make you a congratulations breakfast.”

He was talking a mile a minute into Yoongi’s neck, but Yoongi didn’t care at all. He pulled back to see Taehyung’s beaming face and kissed him. He kissed him like he’d been wanting to for weeks, for months, for years. For just one day.

Someone who sounded very much like Jeongguk whooped loudly, but all Yoongi was aware of was Taehyung’s lips on his, the way he could still feel them curve into a smile and how his fingers curled into silky hair and soft skin.

“Oh, my God. What is this?” Jimin demanded, the smile clear in his voice as they broke apart. “How long has this been going on for?”

“Jimin, shush,” Yoongi heard Hoseok admonish. “It’s cute.” 

“Just a day,” Yoongi replied, basking in Taehyung’s radiant smile.

Taehyung laughed and pulled him closer, resting their foreheads together. “A long day,” he breathed.

“Come on then,” Namjoon said from somewhere behind him. He winked at Yoongi as the crowds began to disperse. “Yoongi, Hobi, I need you in the studio later, okay? And Jin, Jeongguk and Jimin said they have some time before the shoot to run through the choreo again.”

Taehyung sighed, letting him go as the others stepped into action around them. 

“No rest for the wicked,” he lamented.

Yoongi wrinkled his nose. “I’ve had enough rest to last a lifetime.”

“Someone get that in writing,” Seokjin scoffed, walking past and flicking the back of Yoongi’s neck.

Yoongi just grinned. It was good to be back.