Archive of Our Own

"And in the meanwhile, cultivate an understanding of that bunch of other things that the best, sanest people on the planet know: that life is long, that people both change and remain the same, that every last one of us will fuck up and be forgiven, that we're all just walking and walking and walking and trying to find our way, that all roads lead eventually to the mountaintop."

Yoongi woke up early before sunrise in bed with Namjoon. Namjoon must have moved him here at some point after he fell asleep, and by some miracle, he had slept through the night. He curled up smaller into Namjoon’s chest, trying to wiggle his way under Namjoon’s arms.

Namjoon stirred and wrapped himself around Yoongi in response. “Good morning.” Namjoon’s rough morning voice did something funny to Yoongi’s heart, making it flip in his chest. Yoongi hummed back in response, still not wanting to get out from under the covers.

“How’re you feeling?” Namjoon’s voice was soft, barely a whisper. He trailed his fingers up and down Yoongi’s back, making him shiver.

“Good.” Better than last night, at least. Yoongi never felt 100%, a thought that depressed him some days more than others. But today he didn’t want to dwell on that. There were more pressing matters at hand. Namely being, today was The Day. If he didn’t do it today, he didn’t know if he could ever work up the courage again.

Plus, Seokjin was already working himself up into full wedding mode, and if the proposal didn’t happen soon, Yoongi thought, Seokjin might have an actual breakdown.

“You still wanna go hiking?”

Yoongi scoffed, “Of course I still wanna go.”

Right then, Namjoon’s alarm went off. “Just in time,” He grinned down at Yoongi.

Yoongi could never get over how beautiful Namjoon was—with his warm skin and deep dimples and kind eyes. His wide smile completely lit up his face. Namjoon fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table and turned off the alarm, stretching his arms tall above his head once before climbing out of bed.

The mountain was only an hour outside of Seoul, but they had given themselves plenty of time. Yoongi was notoriously slow in the mornings, and the more relaxed they took it, the more extra time they gave themselves, the greater the chances of Yoongi being able to make it to the top of the mountain.

Namjoon had already packed them breakfast for the car and both of their hiking bags were already stuffed with snacks and water. They planned to stop somewhere and buy lunch to carry up to the top. And of course, as Yoongi changed and Namjoon got ready in the bathroom, Yoongi dug around in the bedside drawer and zipped the ring box deep into the pocket of his baggy hiking pants. It barely weighed anything, but he was keenly aware of the weight and what it meant. This was forever.

Namjoon stepped out of the bathroom, grinning, dressed in his hiking pants and a tight thermal undershirt. Yoongi took a moment to appreciate his wide shoulders, his broad chest, and Namjoon walked over and wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi fidgeted and tried not to act weird. He just had to be normal. For one day and then it would be over. Normal. He screwed his face up into something that he thought might look like excitement, but Namjoon leaned in close, eyebrows furrowed.

“You sure you feel okay?”

Yoongi let his features settle back into what his friends had dubbed a classic resting bitch face. Namjoon insisted it wasn’t that bitchy, but Yoongi disagreed. He had seen pictures. It was pretty bad.

“I’m fine, Namjoon-ah. Let’s just get going before I change my mind.”

They ate breakfast in Seoul traffic, pastries and an apple bouncing in their laps as they tried not to get crumbs all over their car. They had just had it washed about a week ago, and it looked pristine—just how Yoongi liked it.

After Yoongi had produced his first big song for one of the major music companies in Korea, they had gotten a pretty sizeable royalty check. From then on, jobs came easier and money just seemed to keep on rolling in. It was way more money than either of them had ever seen—Namjoon made a modest income from his bookstore, and Yoongi had always been poor so living frugally came naturally to him. But now there were extra zeroes in their bank account just begging to be spent.

“I’m thinking about buying a car.” Yoongi had said one day over dinner.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, “And what would you do with a car?”

Yoongi couldn’t get his license, but he had cooked up a scheme to convince Namjoon to get his, and it mainly involved being very, very cute. Yoongi smiled up at Namjoon, looking through his bangs, “I was thinking, maybe, you could drive it?”

Namjoon laughed. The audacity, Yoongi thought, to laugh in his face. “Absolutely not. I don’t even have my license.”

“Well,” Yoongi fiddled with his fork, “Maybe you could think about getting one?”

He let it go for a few days, and then was back at it.

“Think about all of the road trips we could take.”

“Wouldn’t car shopping be so much fun?”

One night, as Namjoon pinned Yoongi to the bed, sucking bruises on his neck, Yoongi saw the perfect opportunity. “Namjoon-ah,” He panted, “Let’s role-play.”

“Role-play?” Namjoon perked up, tightening his grip on Yoongi’s wrists.

“Yeah, okay so,” Yoongi was still breathing hard, trying to catch his breath enough to paint a convincing picture, “I’m walking alone, it’s dark,” Namjoon hummed against Yoongi’s collarbone, tracing his tongue up the side of his neck and right below the soft spot of his jaw. “I’m cold and so alone, I just need someone, someone to help me.” Yoongi was no Seokjin, but he could really turn up the theatrics when he needed to.

“And then, you pull up, in your car”—

“Oh, god,” Namjoon groaned and rolled off of Yoongi, “You ruined it.”

“I was literally just getting to the best part”—

Namjoon shook his head and made a show of trying to squirm out of Yoongi’s grasp, “No, it’s over now, it’s over.”

Yoongi whined and Namjoon let him, pointedly ignoring his boyfriend and staring up at the ceiling, arms over his stomach.

Yoongi let the silence be for a few minutes before he tugged at Namjoon’s elbow, “Please?”

Namjoon sighed, “Do you really want to get a car that bad?”

“Yes.” Yoongi pouted.

Namjoon sighed again, long and dramatic, “Fine.”

“Fine? Fine we can get a car, fine?”

“Yes, fine. We can get a car. I’ll get my fucking license. Fine.”

“I knew I found you for a reason.” Yoongi burrowed himself into Namjoon’s shoulder.

Namjoon ran a hand through Yoongi’s hair, smiling wryly, “Why, so I could chauffer you around?” The words were sweet, though, and had no bite. Yoongi did feel a little bad for taking advantage of Namjoon’s fondness for him. But really, he had scored with Seokjin as his roommate in college and now he needed roughly the same things from his long-term boyfriend—patience, stability, and the ability to bypass the public transportation that Yoongi had been condemned to for the rest of his life. And since they didn’t have chauffer money, at least not yet, Namjoon was the next best thing.

After breakfast, Yoongi fought sleep for almost ten minutes. He was hoping to be able to at least make it out of Seoul before he passed out, knowing that the lull of the highway would almost certainly be irresistible to his foggy, exhausted brain.

But Namjoon noticed, just like he always did. He placed one of his hands on Yoongi’s knee. Hand large and warm, he rubbed his thumb along the inside of Yoongi’s leg. Yoongi secretly appreciated how small he looked next to his boyfriend, and while he would never say it out loud, Namjoon probably knew anyways. Namjoon always knew—he always fucking knew— Yoongi had thought bitterly multiple times over the course of their relationship. There was no hiding anything now, or for the rest of his life, if today went well.

“Just go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when you get there.” It was pretty hot, the way Namjoon was turning the wheel with one hand, maneuvering traffic, and Yoongi wanted to tell him. But the morning sun was coming in so warm through the window, making his eyes close and his head roll to one side. He tried to open his mouth and compliment his boyfriend but the words didn’t come. Instead, he just hummed out one low, contented note. Namjoon’s mouth quirked up in a smile and he squeezed Yoongi’s knee once.

I guess, sometimes, if sleep came like this—warm and lovely and cozy (and in the car, no less)—it couldn’t be all that bad. Yoongi let the exhaustion take him over and he was out in seconds.

Last night had not been good sleep, though. One minute he had been walking around the room, trying to find a phone charger in his bag, and the next minute he was on the floor. Up and moving, and then—in the blink of an eye—down. Too fast to even process what had happened.

It was a special type of fear, wanting to call out to someone but not being able to move, or speak, or do anything. The muscles in Yoongi’s face were slack, his limbs completely weak. He wanted to call out to Namjoon but only a small sound escaped.

He had fallen in his typical protective position—knees down first, and then elbows, and then finally his upper body. Usually when he got cataplexy in his torso, he would try and catch himself on his elbows. This way he usually ended up half-curled on the floor, shoulders slumped. That position meant his face wouldn’t touch the ground, at least not all the way, and he had a little bit of privacy while his body malfunctioned.

This time had been too fast, however. He had fallen on his left shoulder, his right side half propped up, head bent at a weird angle, right arm splayed in front of him until it met the floor. Something dug into his hip—probably a book, knowing Namjoon. It was definitely going to bruise later.

He tried to count but he couldn’t even make it to ten before his breath hitched. It felt like something heavy was on his chest—his breathing sped up—he’d never be able to move again—Namjoon wasn’t coming back—

And then there were feet in front of him, rustling as Namjoon put down his back of chips, still carrying on their conversation. Yoongi could still hear and see during cataplexy, and after all, this was their normal. So most of the time they just continued business as usual even with Yoongi on the floor or slumped over a table or with his chin hanging to his chest, “Ah, hyung I couldn’t find that flavor you usually like”—

Namjoon had no idea that Yoongi was dying on the inside. He squeezed his eyes shut but his jaw still wouldn’t work. His breath caught in his throat and he choked. Was that him making that noise? He forced out a stuttering, low whine and then Namjoon was lying in front of him, hands running through his hair.

“Oh, hyung. I’m right here.” Namjoon’s face was sad and serious as he wiped the tear that dripped off the bridge of Yoongi’s nose. He couldn’t move to hide his face from Namjoon, couldn’t do anything. He hated how his autonomy was taken away in moments like this, his vulnerable parts thrust out into the light for the whole world to see.

Movement came back to Yoongi’s arms and he flopped them once towards Namjoon, still too weak to do anything else. Namjoon ran his hands down Yoongi’s arms, held his hand.

“Hey.” Namjoon sat up and pulled Yoongi up with him, pulling him into his lap and holding him to his chest. Yoongi was shaking, and now that he was able to close his mouth, his teeth chattered together.

“Joon.” He forced the word out, shaking his head violently to the side. Yoongi reached up and grabbed a handful of Namjoon’s shirt. He hummed a low, desperate note, trying to keep himself awake.

When he was like this, it was a feedback loop. He was tired and then he got scared of his cataplexy, which triggered the cataplexy. He came out of it panicking, which triggered his cataplexy. And finally, after everything, he was exhausted and the fog of narcolepsy rolled in, taking him under with it.

“I got you, I got you.” Yoongi’s eyes closed heavily, but he jerked them open. Closed, open, closed open. He didn’t want to sleep, hated having this little control over his body.

“It’s okay hyung, close your eyes.” Namjoon’s voice was soft and sweet, his breath so close that it moved Yoongi’s bangs and tickled his forehead.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you. I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll always be here.”

It hadn’t been so bad, once. When he was younger he would fall down and then get back up again, fall asleep and wake up and continue like it was nothing. Younger children are like that, in some ways—elastic. Yoongi adjusted easily to the situation.

So Yoongi’s childhood had been laughing on the playground until he collapsed in on himself on the grass while his mother waved it off to the other parents who would shoot up out of their seats, he’s fine, he’s fine, it happens sometimes.

But there’s a difference between a seven-year-old and a seventeen-year-old collapsing in on himself. First of all, it’s a matter of distance from the ground, Yoongi often thought, as he would put his high school uniform on in the mornings and examine the round, splotchy bruises that covered his knees.

Second, no reassurances from his mother could stop the hot flash of shame that would work its way through his body, squeezing his throat, after he woke up. His mother also couldn’t stop his classmates whispering, the misguided phone calls home from his high school teachers who asked his mom to keep Yoongi home if he wasn’t feeling well. His attacks were a distraction in class, one of them had said. It might be better if he was homeschooled, one had told them both, tight-lipped, face-to-face, at a meeting after classes had ended for the day.

But something else had been lurking in the back of Yoongi’s mind for some time too. Something sadder, something scared of the world and the people around him. And so after his mother had fought for him in high school, and then said good-bye to him with tears streaming down her face as he got on a train to move to the biggest city in the country, Yoongi found himself alone in college.

Well, alone, and then with Seokjin. Even then, Seokjin didn’t seem to mind how Yoongi was always tired, always having to fight his way through the foggy haze that was his narcolepsy. He even came to love Yoongi’s reticence, his sharp edges. Seokjin had taken a year off between high school and college to pursue a theater internship, and he was loud and ridiculous and had a come-as-you-are approach to everyone and everything. His parents hated his choice of career but they loved him, and they were rich, so Seokjin had convinced them, and he moved through life as if he could convince everyone of anything.

And Yoongi never said it, but Seokjin must have known how small and alone Yoongi felt, because he quickly came to rival to Yoongi’s own mother for the role of fierce protector. Yoongi’s sadness and fear never went away, until his junior year, two years after they met, it swelled into something much bigger than what Yoongi knew how to handle.

It started slowly. He would have a cataplexy attack and then wake up with his heart pounding, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Then it got worse, until after every full-body attack he was panicking, taking short shallow breaths because his lungs wouldn’t work even though he wanted to take big, deep ones. His body would shake all over. He felt like he was dying.

It had gotten better, but it still happened some times, even now. And so here he was, the day before what is supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life—of Namjoon’s life, in particular, and he has no idea—and here he is lying on the floor trying not to panic.

Namjoon had just left the room to get a snack, he’ll be back. He’ll be back. But no amount of reassurances could stop the flow of anxiety that had opened in his brain.

But Namjoon always came back, and God, if that wasn’t a good enough reason to marry him, Yoongi could list thousands of others. He had worked himself up so much about the proposal it was no wonder he had a full-body cataplexy attack even though those had dwindled down to only once or twice a month. It was no wonder, really, that he had a panic attack. He was about to propose to his boyfriend and he was scared out of his fucking mind.

Yoongi woke up right as they rolled into the parking lot, gently rocked out of sleep by the series of speed bumps as they pulled off the main mountain road.

“Just in time, hyung.” Namjoon glanced over at Yoongi, who stretched happily next to him. Car naps really were the best.

“We passed a really cool viewpoint on the way up, we should stop there on the drive down if we have time.” Yoongi already knew that, of course. He had looked up this mountain well before coming here, had planted the idea casually in conversation and then Namjoon had run with it from there. Yoongi hardly ever brought up hiking, or anything nature. Sure, now with the car they were doing more stuff like this—visiting beautiful scenery and fields of flowers and the ocean. But mainly that was only because the trips were quicker and more comfortable with a car, and Namjoon was the one driving. As long as Namjoon was happy, and the trips weren’t overly complicated, Yoongi was happy too.

Namjoon got out of the car and opened the trunk, grabbing their backpacks, while Yoongi unbuckled. He checked to make sure the ring box was still in his pocket, and then checked again. Okay, deep breaths. He could do this. Probably.

The hike was supposed to be around 5 to 6 hours from the parking lot to the top and then back, but knowing them, it would probably take longer. Yoongi had brought his camera, which was now hanging around his neck, and Namjoon had brought his extensive knowledge of bugs and plants and everything else on the planet.

This meant that every few minutes Yoongi would stop and take some pictures, while Namjoon would stop and carefully cup a flower in his palms to identify it, or crouch down to watch some insect scurry across their path, rambling on about geography and climate and why the trees had evolved the way that they had.

And then they would sometimes go a while without speaking. It was a comfortable silence, though, both of them so caught up in their own internal worlds that they didn’t need to say anything. Instead, they could just be together and that was enough.

That was how their relationship had been from the beginning—it was Namjoon working long hours in his bookshop and Yoongi following him around the store, or napping in one of the plush second-hand chairs tucked in the small corners of the shop. It was Namjoon reading on the ratty futon in his studio while Yoongi sat hunched over his desk, dreaming up songs and melodies and putting in the long hours to pull them from his brain and into reality. Time spent together was always the most important thing in their relationship.

They had walked for almost an hour when the trees thinned and the trail wrapped to curve around the side of the mountain. On their right side, soil became rock that dropped suddenly, giving them a sweeping view of the mountains on all sides.

“Wow.” Namjoon breathed out in awe, eyes wide as he scanned the horizon. Korea was a mountainous country, and these viewpoints were always breathtaking—rocky mountain jutting up into the clear, early-fall sky.

Yoongi stepped beside him and Namjoon reached down and intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “It’s beautiful.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement, heart pounding in his throat. Was now the right time? No, no. He should wait until they get to the top. It would be so much more meaningful there. Right?

“Let’s rest here for a minute.” Namjoon was already taking off his backpack and sprawling out on the ground, rummaging around for water and an energy bar. Even if Yoongi did want to propose here, the moment had passed.

Yoongi carefully sat down next to Namjoon, close enough that their knees brushed. “Did you get some good pictures, hyung?”

They both finished their snack and flipped through the pictures Yoongi had on his camera before getting up, brushing their pants off and continuing on the trail.

Everything was perfect, Yoongi breathed out a sigh of relief. Just a few more hours until they reached the top. He could do this.



There was hardly anyone on the trail, and Yoongi and Namjoon meandered along for another hour and a half before they came across a simple trail marker. It was a wooden arrow, pointing upwards on the trail: 5 kilometers to the top.

“Almost there,” Namjoon wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s waist as they walked, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. The extra weight of Namjoon made Yoongi stumble a bit and he playfully slapped at Namjoon’s chest.

“Ugh, thank god.” Truthfully, it hadn’t been that bad, but Yoongi scrunched his nose up and made a show of being dramatic all the same.

“How’re you holding up, hyung?” Namjoon shot him a look from the side of his eye, and Yoongi cursed how well Namjoon could see through him.

“I’m fine, Namjoon-ah.” Just keep it casual. Normal.

“You’ve been a little quiet today.” Namjoon bumped Yoongi’s hip with his own and Yoongi ducked his head.

“I—sorry. Just, I don’t know. Thinking.”

Namjoon reached down and threaded their fingers together, rubbing circles over the back of Yoongi’s hand. The ring weighed heavy in Yoongi’s pocket.

“Okay.” He breathed out soft, taking Yoongi’s word for it. But Yoongi could still tell Namjoon was worrying, and Yoongi cursed himself for acting weird.

They came across a fork in the trail, one branching to the right, into the woods, and then another to the left, hugging the side of the mountain. Neither trail was blazed, and they paused for a moment.

“Which one do you think, hyung?” Namjoon, easygoing as always, looked to Yoongi for confirmation.

“To the right, right? We’ve been going that way the whole time…”

“I think so too. We should be getting there soon.” They ambled down the path again, Namjoon letting go of his hand to inspect some interested looking leaves.

Yoongi took out his camera and snapped some pictures of Namjoon bent down over the ground. The light was filtering through the trees making Namjoon glow, and Yoongi wondered, not for the first time, how he got so lucky. How he met someone so completely earnest and understanding.



They had both been a little adrift when they met each other. Namjoon was lonely after dropping out of school and opening his bookshop, his writing stuck in a rut. Yoongi was just putting himself out there again after an almost three-year uphill battle with himself—depressive episodes that got longer and longer, a bad breakup with a boyfriend who had made him insecure and isolated, stress and anxiety that made Yoongi’s thoughts spiral out of control. He took care of himself less and less and his narcolepsy got worse and worse until he was so sick and so anxious he was scared to leave the house by himself, almost positive he would have an attack in public out of sheer panic.

And then things got better, little by little. Taehyung, his childhood friend, helped in the ways that he knew how. Seokjin, his college roommate turned best friend, was a fierce advocate for Yoongi. He still was, to this day. And Jimin and Hoseok came over and laid on the couch and played games and talked with him to take his mind off the hard work that he was doing—slowly, slowly, slowly dragging himself out of the dark place where he had been for almost six months. He got better, but he was single as fuck and Seokjin had been determined to change that.

And so, half to ward off any blind dates set up by his roommate, he went on a date with Namjoon, who was charming and awkward and funny and sweet. But Yoongi fell asleep mid-conversation and was convinced that he had fucked everything up, forever.

However, Namjoon reassured Yoongi he hadn’t. And he reassured Yoongi that he didn’t mind Yoongi falling asleep at the dinner table, or getting dizzy and having to sit down when they were out. He assured Yoongi that he didn’t mind the slow mornings or afternoon naps. And even though the cataplexy scared him at first, he didn’t let it scare him away.

Yoongi snapped another picture of Namjoon hunched over a small parch of flowers growing in between the thick roots of a tree that lines a path. He was so gentle, and Yoongi smiled to himself.

Yoongi felt it in his left knee first. A little wobble, a little instability. He shifted his weight but then his right knee became weak as well and he took two stumbling steps towards a tree beside the path, trying to find some support to keep him from tumbling down.

His expensive camera was still clutched in his hand as one of his knees gave out completely, and he hugged it to his chest on his left side. The path was rocky and hard with packed dirt, and he knew going down on his knee was going to hurt, if not make it impossible for him to do the hike down. So, in a series of split second calculations, Yoongi made the decision to fall to his right side, and to use his right arm to catch himself.

“Joon”—but Namjoon was too far away to catch him, even though he shot up and made two, lunging steps towards Yoongi before he hit the ground.

To be fair, the fall looked much worse than it felt. Yoongi went down to the right, catching himself with his forearm and his right hip, his bare palm scraping against the rocks embedded in the dirt. His hip throbbed. He allowed himself a moment to lie there and close his eyes, exhausted, as he felt the damp cold seeping in through his clothes. At least his camera felt intact.

Crouched next to him, Namjoon fretted, “Jesus Christ, hyung, are you alright?” His hands fluttered above Yoongi before prying the camera out of his hand and hanging it safely around his own neck.

“’M fine.” Yoongi still had his eyes closed. Honestly, he could probably sleep right here. He had been fine not two minutes before, but now the exhaustion caught up with him and he breathed out a long sigh.

“Can I help you sit up?” And then there were hands under his armpits as Namjoon hauled him into a sitting position, brushing some of the dirt off his shoulder. Yoongi opened his eyes a little and saw that dirt was caking his entire side. Great.

He lifted his still-stinging right hand to inspect it with a dull curiosity. Beneath the dirt, he could see little bits of blood showing through.

Namjoon hissed through his teeth and gently took Yoongi’s wrist, “Let me clean that for you.” He took out his water bottle and gently ran some water over the dirt, letting it drop down Yoongi’s fingers and onto the ground, chiding him the whole time, “You could’ve really hurt yourself, hyung, you shouldn’t fall so hard on your wrist.”

Yoongi felt mild annoyance bubble up inside him—as if he didn’t know he shouldn’t fall on his wrists, as if he hadn’t been doing this his entire life. “I know, Joon, okay? It’s not like I don’t know that,” he snapped.

Namjoon flinched, “Sorry, sorry, I just”—they both looked down at Yoongi’s palm, scraped raw and still bleeding. Yoongi saw the worry clouding Namjoon’s face.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi forced himself to take a deep, slow breath, “I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet as Namjoon took out some tissues from his bag to press against Yoongi’s wound.

“Let’s just rest here for a moment, okay?” Yoongi nodded and closed his eyes as Namjoon settled in next to him. He laid his head on Namjoon’s shoulder and let himself sleep.

When Yoongi woke up he felt hazy, his brain still wrapped up in the fog of sleep and confusion. He vaguely registered that he was sitting on the ground next to someone, his head on someone’s shoulders—Namjoon, was it Namjoon? He jerked himself upright, eyes straining to focus, heart pounding.

An arm caught him around the shoulders, “Hey.” Namjoon beamed down at him, eyes crinkling with fondness and Yoongi relaxed back into his boyfriend’s arms.

“How long was I out?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Namjoon smiled down at him, and then reached for Yoongi’s right hand, turning it over again in his hands. “You okay to keep going?”

“Yeah, of course.” Yoongi tried not to let the guilt settle heavy in his chest. This was supposed to be the perfect day, and now Namjoon was worried about him. And he was exhausted.

As they stood up, Namjoon helped him brush the dirt off his side, and Yoongi realized belatedly that the ring box was obvious in his pocket.

He jumped back as Namjoon touched his hip, and then brushed the dirt off himself, looking down to cover his expression. If Namjoon looked at him weird, he didn’t notice because he was too busy avoiding Namjoon’s eyes.

They walked for another fifteen minutes, Namjoon hovering close-but-not-too-close by Yoongi’s side as he fought to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey… shouldn’t we be getting close to the top by now?” Yoongi was trudging along, eyes trained on the ground, concentrating on keeping his eyes open when Namjoon stopped and looked around the trail.

“Here,” Namjoon looked between his exhausted boyfriend and the trail ahead, which curved around another mountain ridge, “Let me run ahead a minute. Just rest here.” Yoongi swayed a little and sat down as Namjoon jogged around the corner.

He came back a few minutes later, expression apologetic, “Okay, so. I don’t think this is the right trail.” Yoongi felt his shoulders deflate. Sometimes, his little naps gave him more energy and other times they just made his exhaustion worse. He felt terrible, and the beginnings of a headache had started at the base of his neck and was working its way up behind his left eye.

Yoongi took a breath, “Okay. Okay, let’s turn around and take the other path.”

“Is that… that’s fine?” Namjoon’s eyes were trained on his face and Yoongi nodded, eyes softening, schooling his face into a small smile.

They walked another forty minutes down the trail in silence before they found the fork. Yoongi’s energy was beginning to pick up a little bit, and when they reached it he tugged at Namjoon’s shirt, “Okay, 5 kilometers. We can do it.”

This part of the trail was steeper than any other part they had climbed before, and both of them broke into a sweat as they hiked up. Namjoon shrugged off his jacket and tied it around his waist, and Yoongi was close to doing the same.

“I think this is the home stretch, the viewpoint should be just up there,” Namjoon grinned and pointed. Ahead of them on the trail was a steep flight of stairs built into the rock that went up and curved around to what was presumably the peak. They still hadn’t gotten a good glimpse of the view, and Yoongi’s heart pounded with excitement and nerves.

“Let’s take a breather here.” Namjoon paused at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the metal handrail, and Yoongi did the same. They both eyed the stairs warily, still keenly aware of their burning calf muscles from the steep incline up here.

As they stood there, a rumbling sounded in the distance and both of them looked up. At the corner of the sky, a dark grey cloud had started rolling in.

“Shit,” Namjoon cursed, “You think we can make it down and back in time?”

“I didn’t come all the way out here to not.” Yoongi straightened to stand and then stretched, placing one foot on the stairs, “You ready?”

They both almost sprinted up the stairs, watching from the corner of their eye as the grey cloud and picked up speed and darkened to a deep black. Another rumble of thunder, and the stairwell shook, just a little.

Almost to the top, the rain started to fall in fat, cold drops.

Namjoon reached the top first, but Yoongi was almost two flights of stairs behind him. The rain fell harder and harder, obscuring his vision so all he could make out was Yoongi’s pale face as he came closer into view.

“Come on, I think there’s some shelter over here!” Namjoon shouted over the rain, which was making quite the racket on the metal steps.

He grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and dragged him towards a small rock outcropping that formed a sort of overhang, protecting them from the worst of the weather. They both crouched under it, dripping and freezing. Yoongi’s teeth chattered together.

“Jesus. The sky was completely blue when we started.”

Yoongi winced, if only he hadn’t gotten them lost. If only he hadn’t fallen down. If only he hadn’t taken a nap. Then they might have made it to the top in time, before the rain started.

But now they were stuck up here for the foreseeable future, wet and miserable, the view completely clouded by mist and rain.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he felt terrible.

Namjoon snorted and bumped against his shoulder, “It’s not like you made it rain, hyung. Besides, isn’t this what hiking’s all about?”

When Yoongi gave him an incredulous look, Namjoon rolled his eyes, “You know, the unexpected? We’re just out here visiting nature. Nature does its own thing without us.”

“I guess.” Yoongi looked unconvinced, his mind on the ring sitting at the bottom of the pocket of his soaked pants. He was shaking with the cold, and there was no way he was going to propose to Namjoon now. If he did, he would probably drop the ring, or his teeth would chatter in the middle of it, or both.

“Remember our first date?” Namjoon spoke to him softly, and his gaze was warm and sweet.

Yoongi snorted, “Yeah, I showed up soaking wet.”

“Whenever we get caught in the rain, I think about that.” Namjoon reached up to touch Yoongi’s bangs, which were plastered to his forehead. He brushed a few of them aside so they were no longer dripping in Yoongi’s eyes. “I was so nervous and then you ran up and you were cold and wet and stressed out about being late and I—I thought you were so cute.”

Yoongi smiled at the memory, “I was so nervous when I asked you I didn’t even give you my phone number. I was so worried that you were going to think I stood you up I literally sprinted to where we were meeting.” Yoongi gave a dramatic shudder, “I don’t think I’ve done that much cardio in my entire life.”

“I would’ve stood there for hours,” Namjoon teased, “I was so desperate to talk to the cute boy who couldn’t reach the books on the top shelf in my bookstore.”

“Hey,” Yoongi slapped him on the arm, “That’s your own fucking fault. Freakishly tall people shouldn’t be allowed to build shelves.”

Namjoon laughed but he was still looking at Yoongi with those soft eyes, and Yoongi looked up to meet his gaze, a little shyly. Even when he felt gross—sweaty and tired and soaked to the bone from the rain—Namjoon still looked at him like that, as if Yoongi was precious and held all of the secrets of the universe.

Finally, Namjoon leaned down slightly and caught Yoongi’s mouth against his. His mouth was warm and soft and he smiled into the kiss, cupping Yoongi’s jaw with his hand. Yoongi leaned forward to rest his own hands against Namjoon’s chest, tilting his head back as Namjoon kissed him deeper and deeper. Yoongi made a small noise at the back of his throat, and he pulled Namjoon closer, tugging at his lip with his teeth.

Namjoon started to pull away but Yoongi wasn’t ready, following his movements with his body and trying not to look too much like a kicked puppy when Namjoon straightened up, eyes scanning the horizon. “I think the rain’s slowed down. We should get back on the trail while the lightning has stopped.”

Before Yoongi knew it, Namjoon had pushed himself up and pulled Yoongi up with him, ushering them both back into the downpour. He should have proposed under that rock—it was the perfect moment—but he had been distracted. Curse Namjoon and his perfect mouth, and his outdoor survival instincts that now had them rushing down the steps towards cover in the trees.

“Careful!” Yoongi caught Namjoon’s elbow as he slipped a little bit, placing a hand on his shoulder as he descended in front of Yoongi. The last thing he wanted was for his boyfriend to slide down almost five flights of slippery steps before he even got a chance to see the ring Yoongi was carrying in his pocket.

They made it to the tree line and some of the rain and wind was blocked, the sound of the storm muffled by the foliage. Yoongi turned to look at Namjoon, who was winded, and even wetter than before, with bits of leaves stuck to his cheek and hair where the wind had blown them off the trees.

Yoongi knew he didn’t look much better, and when they met each others eyes they burst out laughing, a deep, belly-aching laugh that had them both doubled over clutching their stomachs.

“Joon”—Yoongi called out, between bursts of laughter, his knees giving out from beneath him. Namjoon caught him around the waist and Yoongi gripped Namjoon’s arms, laughing into his boyfriend’s chest.

Finally, their laughter died down, both of them breathing hard. Yoongi gave himself few minutes in Namjoon’s arms before straightening up and stepping back, one of Namjoon’s hands still on his elbow for support.

“Let’s get out of here,” Namjoon grinned down at him. Yoongi grabbed his hand and let Namjoon lead the way.

It took them less time going down than it did going up. They barreled down the muddy trails at a breakneck speed, boots slipping and sliding the whole way down. Both of them took a few spills, pulling each other up and giggling the whole way.

By the time they made it to the long, flat section of the trail—the beginning, they noticed, with relief—they were both splattered with mud from the waist down. Namjoon had a smear of it on his cheekbone, and the entire back of Yoongi’s pants were coated. There was no point even brushing it off because water had collected on the flat parts of the trail in one, giant mud puddle.

Whereas before, Yoongi’s spirits were up, now they fell back down again. He had failed his mission. The chances of him getting a chance to propose today were getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing moment.

Yoongi groaned, “We’re never going to make it back to the car.”

“It’s literally so close, hyung. Like two kilometers.” Namjoon pulled him forward, their boots squelching in the water-logged ground.

“This is disgusting.” Yoongi tried to pick his way carefully through the puddles as Namjoon strode along ahead. Yoongi scowled at his long legs and jumped over a puddle, and then another.

“Almost there!” Namjoon called over his shoulder. Maybe it was Namjoon, or maybe it was the root hidden by the murky water, or maybe it was the sad mood that Yoongi was currently wallowing in, but something distracted him. He lost his footing and stumbled one, two, three steps forward before losing traction and slipping in a particularly gooey patch of ground. He face-planted right in the mud, his arms offering no support as they slid in front of him across the water-logged ground. He rested his cheek in a nice, wet patch of dirt.

“Yoongi?” Namjoon ran back a few steps, concern etched on his face. Yoongi closed his eyes. He couldn’t deal with this right now—the mud, the shitty weather, the failed proposal.

Namjoon’s fingers brushed Yoongi’s forehead gently, and Yoongi’s eyes shot open. He glared at Namjoon, who startled and stepped back, “I thought you passed out!”

“I fucking tripped,” Yoongi spat out, “You distracted me!”

The laugh started somewhere in Namjoon’s chest and he tried to swallow it, his face contorting to hide his smile. He snorted, and then half-coughed to cover it up. He breathed a few breathy laughs and then turned away from Yoongi as they turned into something more.

“This isn’t funny!”

That only made Namjoon laugh harder, and Yoongi tried to push himself up. He got one arm underneath himself before it slipped in the mud again, sending his chest straight back into the ground. Water splattered around him, hitting Namjoon.

“Stop laughing, I— Fuck—I can’t get up!”

When Yoongi finally scrambled up he did the only logical thing—he threw himself at Namjoon, clinging to his back like a koala.

“Hyung! Stop, you’re disgusting—ugh,” Namjoon fought to get Yoongi off, but he clung on tight and eventually Namjoon just gave up and stood up with Yoongi still on his back.

Yoongi rubbed his muddy hands over Namjoon’s neck and the sides of his face as he walked them both back to the parking lot, depositing Yoongi dramatically on the pavement next to their car.

“Civilization,” Yoongi hummed, leaning against the car as Namjoon threw towels down over the front seats. They both took a change of clothes to the small bathroom at the edge of the parking lot, carefully peeling off soaked layers in exchange for new ones.

Yoongi grimaced as he took the ring out of his pocket, the box looking a little worse for the wear. His slid it into the pocket of his sweatpants, shame and guilt lodging in his throat. He had failed today because he was what—scared? Nervous? Worried everything was going to go wrong?

No, really he was scared of the rejection. Namjoon was so good, and even though logically he knew Namjoon loved him, deeply and unconditionally, he was still scared that one day his boyfriend would wake up and realize that Yoongi wasn’t worth the trouble. So hence, the ring still in Yoongi’s possession despite a whole day’s worth of opportunities.

Yoongi stepped out of the bathroom stall and let Namjoon dry off his hair with a clean towel, wiping the mud and dirt off of his face as best as he could. Namjoon then did the same to himself, violently toweling off his hair and then shaking like a wet dog. Yoongi reached up and used his thumb to swipe some dirt off Namjoon’s cheek, standing up on his tip toes to press a kiss to the same spot.

He turned away and started walking towards the car, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, pinching his thumb to try and stave off the tears that prickled at the corners of his eyes.

It would be fine. Maybe he could convince Namjoon to stop at the viewpoint on the way down, or pull over on their drive to look at the stars before they got to Seoul. He could still propose tonight.

As Namjoon got in the car after him and turns the key in the ignition, Yoongi took a breath and tried to force his anxious heart to calm down. Everything would be fine.

The car spluttered as Namjoon maneuvered it to the side of the road, humming the entire time, completely oblivious to Yoongi’s current breakdown. He felt like he was going to cry, or be sick, or both. This day could not have gone any worse, and now their car was acting weird. Yoongi cursed the lifetime of bad karma that he must have accumulated to amount to this—all the times he didn’t hold the door open, how he snuck cigarettes from his dad in high school, and that one time he used Seokjin’s shampoo for two months instead of buying his own.

Namjoon turned to Yoongi with a bright smile, “Well, I guess we’ll just wait here for a little while then!” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, “There were still a few cars at the top when we left, so we’ll just have to wave them down and ask for a ride to the bottom when they pass.”

He seemed to finally notice Yoongi’s face. “We’ll just leave the car up here and come back for it tomorrow, no worries.” He gave Yoongi a gentle smile and put one hand on his arm, which only made Yoongi feel worse.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will himself not to cry. He took a deep, shaking breath, and counted to three as he released it. He could do it. They would just sit here and go home and Yoongi would propose another time, no big deal.

“Hyung?” Namjoon gently rubbed his thumb against the inside of Yoongi’s arm. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just”— Yoongi waved his hand, mortified when his voice cracked.

Namjoon looked alarmed, “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Today was really fun, I’m glad we came out here.”

At that, Yoongi couldn’t hold it in—he let out a choked breath, and two tears rolled down his cheeks. He frantically wiped them away, but it only made more fall.

“Hey—hey,” Yoongi pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and he heard Namjoon unbuckle his seatbelt and open the car door.

A few seconds later the door on Yoongi’s side opened, big hands and long arms wrapping around him and pulling him to Namjoon’s chest. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Namjoon’s voice was so gentle, so concerned, it only made Yoongi cry harder.

He let out a few sobs and then pushed Namjoon away, “How can you just lie to my face like that, Namjoon! Today was horrible! Everything went wrong, I just- it just,” He couldn’t catch his breath, knew he was overreacting, but he was mortified and he was scared, trying not to panic.

Namjoon’s face fell but he rubbed Yoongi’s back all the same, encouraging him to breath. “I—I wasn’t lying, hyung, don’t say that. I don’t lie to you. I enjoyed it, I’m really glad you brought us out here.”

“I- Namjoon, I—I wanna—fuck,” Yoongi couldn’t get his words out.

Namjoon gave him a wry smile, “You wanna fuck? Right now?”

“Shut up,” Yoongi wiped away the last of his tears, slapping away Namjoon’s still-hovering hand. And then something possessed him and he was angrily reaching into his pocket and digging around for the small, gray box. “Shut up for just two seconds I just wanna-- just wanna…”

He found the box and promptly thrust it towards Namjoon. When Namjoon took it, turning it over in his hands, Yoongi crossed his arms. He looked away defensively, hating how his blood rushed to his cheeks and how his heart was pounding in his ears.

Namjoon looked confused, “What is this?”

“Fuck, Namjoon. I wanna marry you.”

And then understanding flitted across Namjoon’s face, eyes darting down from Yoongi to the box. “Hyung… is this…” He clutched the box tighter, eyes wide, looking at Yoongi.

Yoongi sniffed, “I was trying to tell you all day. But everything was all wrong.”

Namjoon opened his mouth and then closed it, lost for words. “Hyung, is this a proposal?”

Yoongi gave a wet laugh, “Yeah, I guess it is. Kim Namjoon, will you marry me?”

But before he could even finish, Namjoon’s arms were around Yoongi, squeezing him so tight he could hardly breath.

When he pulled back, Namjoon’s eyes were shining. “Yoongi, I—“ He took a breath and composed himself. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you for so long.” Yoongi sniffed, heart swelling, and Namjoon gripped his shoulders tighter. “You make me so happy. Everything about you—I just—I couldn’t have found a better person. Or, a better person couldn’t have found me, I guess.” He gave Yoongi a wobbly smile, “I would be honored if I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

Yoongi wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting such a positive reaction from Namjoon. His mind went blank and then happiness bubbled inside him and made him lightheaded. Before he knew what happened, his head pitched forward onto Namjoon’s shoulder, chin tilting down, mouth open. His shoulders slumped.

Namjoon laughed, a low, deep laugh that reverberated through Yoongi’s body. He rubbed Yoongi’s back and held him tight. “I hope this means you’re happy, hyung.”

Yoongi squeezed Namjoon’s arm, and when he could trust his mouth to form words he sat up, a little wobbly. “So happy. You make me so happy, Namjoon.”

And then Namjoon looked at him, eyes warm and round, and he leaned down and kissed Yoongi, deep and slow. When they finally broke apart, foreheads still together, Yoongi spoke, “Sorry this proposal was so shit.”

Namjoon snorted, “Hyung, the proposal doesn’t matter. Let’s fucking get married.”

And later, after they got cell service and called Seokjin, they sat on the hood of the car and admired the ring. When Seokjin pulled up, it was dark on the mountain, the road illuminated only by his headlights.

“Are you guys okay?” Seokjin looked positively frantic as he stepped out of the car, giving the dark road and dark line of trees one sweeping, judgmental glance.

They shared a glance and grinned at him. Namjoon slide off the hood and wiggled his left hand in Seokjin’s direction, “I said yes, hyung!”

Seokjin’s features melted into something that looked like relief, but still tinged with worry, “God, I’m so happy for you two, but don’t ever scare me like that again. All your calls and texts went through at once and I tried to call you back but you didn’t have service and…” He went on and on as he ushered them into the car, making sure they were both settled before climbing into the driver’s seat. He took a deep breath and shook his head, half-smiling, “Congratulations you both, Yoongi’s been stressing about this for weeks so I’m glad it’s over. I’m glad you’re happy.” Yoongi shot him a glare from the back seat and Namjoon looked absolutely elated.

As Seokjin turned the car around and drove them slowly down the mountain, there was a beat or two of silence. Then, he spoke up, “You guys kind of stink, you know? And you’re filthy.”

Namjoon laughed, “Yeah, we got caught in the rain.”

“Before or after he proposed.”

“Before,” Namjoon smirked in the mirror at Yoongi, “It’s actually a pretty funny story, hyung, if you would like to hear it.”

“God, I would want nothing more.”

The End.