Work Text:
‘And I said
If crazy equals genius
Then I'm a fucking arsonist
I'm a rocket scientist
If crazy equals genius
You can set yourself on fire
But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn
You can set yourself on fire
But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn’
-Panic! At The Disco, Crazy=Genius
Taehyung was someone who watched the world around him. It was just something he did, kept his eyes open and remembered everything he saw, down to the smallest details his vision could find. It was a habit he only realised was odd later in his childhood, when he asked Jimin about something to be answered with ‘why did you even notice that?’, and he found out that most people didn’t see photographs in their mind when they thought of a memory, couldn’t rewatch a scene that had happened before them in perfect focus. He had never thought it a talent that he could retrace exact steps with frightening accuracy, could recite whole conversations, copy out a paragraph he had read in a book without needing to see it twice.
When he had told all of this to Jimin, Taehyung was met with bright eyes, the elder smiling and telling him how his brain was special, telling him his ability made him so much more talented than most of the people around them their age, even adults. That was something Taehyung doubted for ages through his childhood, that he could possibly be more than the foolish child he had been labelled in the orphanage they were in, the nuns constantly scolding him for letting his mind wander when he should be concentrating. It was finally when they left that he began to understand that he didn’t think the same as Jimin, could remember every face they had ever stolen from, the appearance of every wallet, the name on every piece of ID. Even then, he didn’t really interpret it as being clever, Taehyung thought he was just good at remembering things, nothing that related or included his intelligence, intellect.
Really, it wasn’t being clever that let him sing a song out of nowhere with perfect note after perfect note, able to tell you exactly which key was which basing it off of the old piano they had at the orphanage. Taehyung never realised that it might be related to his intelligence that he could always think of ways around something, could think of how to perfectly cheat in the board games they used to play, could lie between his teeth and tell exactly when someone was lying to him. He thought it was just things he excelled in, like how Jimin could dance despite never really having lessons, like how people could be better at sports or arts or anything really.
So while Taehyung never really put his abilities down as being intelligent, they still helped him through life, especially when Jimin and him needed to lie and steal and deceive to earn enough money to live. They really had proven useful, and Taehyung always remembered the faces of the people whose wallets held the most money, the faces of the people with none, could lie about where his parents were to people who asked. Jimin had become better at lying too, him building the skill up from nothing, something Taehyung admired even more than his natural ability to just say things that weren’t remotely true with so much conviction he almost believed the things he said himself.
However, as much as Jimin had gotten better about lying, he couldn’t lie to Taehyung. It wasn’t that he couldn’t try to, but the younger knew his best friend so well that he could see even a thread of falsity from a mile away, could detect the exact moment something he said wasn’t as true as the rest. Taehyung couldn’t even explain to someone how he could tell, it was just something he could do, and it made his heart hurt every time Jimin got home and told him about how he ‘found a wallet on the floor’, or ‘an old lady gave it to me’, or even ‘I did some favours for the family across the road and they wanted to pay me’, followed by him producing a large sum of money that he had explained.
Every time, Taehyung could tell the other was lying, so much so that he hadn’t even needed a second to detect it, his mind immediately registering that Jimin wasn’t telling him the truth. It was in the body language, the small things that the elder probably didn’t even realise were giving him away, the tilt of an eyebrow, the wavering of eyes, hands running through hair, slight curl of lips. The signs were so small that Taehyung knew that to anyone else they wouldn’t even be apparent, but he knew Jimin’s face better than his own, could draw him in any pose he could think of from his own memory. He was almost hurt that the other would lie, but he couldn’t be too angry when Jimin was bringing enough money home for them to actually be comfortable for once since they had left the orphanage, Taehyung not about to ruin something that worked so well in their favour.
The issue was, as much as Taehyung could tell the other was lying, he had no way of knowing the actual truth of the situation. He could see that Jimin’s explanations were false, but he had no clue how the other was getting the money, only now knowing what the source wasn’t because of the transparent excuses. For people like them, there weren’t many options you could pursue to get that sort of money, not when they weren’t even teenagers, still relatively small and skinny, even when Taehyung estimated he was around five foot and a few additional inches tall. Jimin was even smaller, probably only just scraping over four foot eleven, and it made the younger’s mind race trying to think of what he could be doing, going through the various possibilities.
He had spent almost half a year trying to think, because Jimin had been bringing home unbelievably large sums of money for almost half a year, or at least the value was unbelievably large to them. He imagined that to someone else, it could be nothing but pocket money, but to them it was enough to actually let them live, let them avoid suffering because their bones were practically touching their skin, let them avoid freezing to death when the weather decided to be their worst enemy. The moment the whole thing had started, Jimin saying he went out to find blankets in a note and returning with so much more, saying he had found someone’s car unlocked and took them from there, Taehyung had known he was lying from the very second he spoke.
Even so, he hadn’t wanted Jimin to know, wanted the other to feel the sort of self-pride he truly deserved when he had literally saved their lives, and so Taehyung ignored it. He acted as someone who didn’t realise the lie, or even himself despite the knowledge, watched wide eyes as the elder set up their heater, something they could sit next to and not feel their blood turn to ice. Deciding against curiosity for once, Taehyung ignored the suspicions he had building up in his head, instead cuddling close to the only person he cared about in the world, letting Jimin press kisses to his hair, knowing it made the other feel better. However, the situation kept happening, and it quickly became something Taehyung couldn’t ignore, not when the large volumes of money kept appearing, not when Jimin would pretend he hadn’t somehow gotten as much money but still came home with food Taehyung knew was a higher price than what they usually purchased, could usually afford.
April had now started, and with that came the shedding of some layers of clothing, the days warmer while the nights were still relatively chilly. They weren’t anywhere near a comfortable temperature, but they weren’t freezing, most likely bearable without the heater they cherished so dearly, nothing like the past months that had nearly defeated them. Despite how much Taehyung had liked winter as a child, he was grateful that spring was finally making itself known, March still having been a little too cold for his taste when they were sleeping in a home with no insulation. It felt as though the seasons really were shifting, and he was waiting for when they could finally be content to just sleep without needing the help of a hundred blankets and a heater, even when they already had to take some layers away from the bed and fold the blankets neatly to pile them up in a corner.
The weather was strangely good for the month, and the sun was peeking through the clouds, blue skies promising that it was unlikely to rain. That was the reason why Taehyung decided to leave the house instead of staying put like he normally did when it was Jimin’s turn to find money, trying to neaten his messy hair as he went out their crumbling doorway, walking the small distance to the main street in front of the ruins of other houses. Taehyung imagined that the area was going to be demolished, some buildings already down to the ground, but the people completing the actions probably lost interest, or ran out of money, because the job was never completed. For that, he was thankful, not wanting to think of him and Jimin having to live on the street and in doorways because they had nowhere else to go.
Passing by a number of shops which had their open signs on full display, Taehyung tried to decide where he would go to pass the time, wanting to make the most of the weather he didn’t need to wear endless numbers of layers in to stay warm. He knew there was a small park a few minutes away in the direction he was walking, knew because he liked to go there to see people walking their dogs, occasionally owners letting him stroke their pets if he asked nicely. It wasn’t a large area, only had a small, rusting structure as a playground, not even a field for sports, just some grassy patches and benches, but it was enough and Taehyung knew he was going to end up there anyway no matter what he decided.
He kept his head down as he walked, occasionally slipping his hand into someone’s pocket to find money if he didn’t think he would be noticed, and by the time he reached the park he had been rewarded with a sum of almost fifteen thousand won. It was nothing compared to the money Jimin brought back these days, but Taehyung was still happy with his gatherings, and slid the bank notes into the front pocket of his own jeans, the fabric too baggy for his legs. Maybe Jimin would support the idea of them buying clothes that actually fit the next time he brought back enough money for them to put half aside, the socks he was wearing having so many holes you could mistake them as fishnet mesh.
Opening the rusty metal gate of the park, the hinges gave a small groan as Taehyung passed through, letting the gate close behind him with a small clang as it met the old fence around the area. The grass was overgrown, weeds bursting out of the edges of each of the tiles in the stone pathway, but with spring came an array of newly budded flowers, bright dandelions and daisies and daffodils. With an idea sparking in his mind, Taehyung redirected his almost thoughtless steps to reach the flowers, collecting the white and yellow daisies with the longest stems, trying his hardest not to break any too short. He could reward Jimin with a flower crown with the amount of money he was bringing back, a way to say thank you that didn’t cost a thing, and Taehyung always enjoyed making chains of the small flowers.
When he deemed he had enough, he carefully carried them all to the rusting playground frame, placing them on the worn wooden platform to carefully pull himself up, trying not to cut himself on the flanking, brown metal. He and Jimin hadn’t had the vaccines he had read about in a leaflet about the importance of childhood immunity he had found in the street, his mind able to remember that rust was a danger in a disease called tetanus, and Taehyung didn’t think they would get away with their living arrangement if they had to go to hospital. The last thing he wanted was to go back to the orphanage they came from, or even worse, be separated from Jimin, and so he made sure he got to the wooden platform in one complete piece.
People didn’t pass him a second glance as they walked by, and that was something Taehyung was content with, dangling his feet over the side to swing them back and forth, carefully piercing small slits in the stems of the daisies he had. It was a nice motion, the repetition of making the hole and then threading another daisy through, the routine in a cycle over and over again. There was practically no wind, and it made it easy to keep the flowers by his side, all of them staying in his small pile until they were plucked out by thin fingers to be added to his chain. It was a girl at their orphanage that taught him to do this, he wasn’t sure who taught her, and Taehyung used to love making the lines of daisies when the nuns let them be in the garden, making sure they didn’t see what he was doing in case they didn’t approve.
Using his own head as a model, Taehyung carried on until he had the perfect length, careful as he made a larger hole to fit the whole flower of the first daisy through the last one’s stem to make a circle. Holding it up, he felt pride in how it was mostly even, and was sure Jimin would like it, was sure the elder would accept it with a grin and wear it the whole evening to make Taehyung happy, proclaiming that he was really in fact a fairy, not a human like his appearance suggested.
There were spare daisies left, and Taehyung didn’t want to waste them, so he carefully made another chain, one that was much shorter. It was just long enough to wrap around his wrist, and so he gave himself a daisy bracelet, the white flowers and green stems tickling his skin. The colours of the plants were a nice contrast to his bronzed tone, and Taehyung stared at the way the petals casted shadows on his skin for a moment, angling the chain in the sun to try and get the most dramatic image. He was sitting in exactly the right place, facing the afternoon sun, the shadows cast in his direction making them easy to admire.
It wasn’t until a cloud moved to cover the sun that he stopped, huffing at the loss of his new found entertainment, instead looking up to survey the park. There were a few people wandering about, one lady walking a cute white poodle, and Taehyung thought of going to ask to pet the dog until his eyes caught something else. He almost had to do a double take, because he didn’t quite know why Jimin would be hanging about the corner of a road instead of doing something else. It was the elder’s turn to earn money, and although Taehyung knew he should probably go and see the other, his curiosity was pounding away in his skull like a drum.
After all, he still wasn’t sure how Jimin brought back so much money when it was his days, and Taehyung couldn’t say he wasn’t jealous. It was a shared responsibility they had to provide enough wealth to eat, live, and the younger couldn’t help thinking that he was doing something wrong, when he was bringing back less than a third of what Jimin could get, maybe even only a quarter, and that was of the money he knew about. Taehyung had caught the other sliding bank notes into places in their attic before, didn’t let the elder know, but watched as money was hidden all around their room, probably Jimin trying not to bring more suspicion from him about the source.
With sharp eyes, Taehyung closely watched the other, who wore clothes the younger could vaguely remember as ones the two of them had found when looking through bins or from stealing from shops, the items nowhere near warm enough for the weather. He had never seen Jimin dressed in them, and as he looked over exactly what it was the other was wearing, a heavy weight settled itself in his gut. Tight, ripped jeans, a thin top with scrappy, lace fringe, deep neckline. He was dressed like the people the at their orphanage nuns used to hurl religious abuse at, the people they told them were going straight to hell, and it made the younger feel uneasy.
Taehyung was someone who wasn’t stupid, Jimin saying he was probably even a genius with the way his brain worked, and it didn’t take long to connect some dots in his head. The money, the clothes, the way Jimin was standing on the edge of the road like the girls that were near their home, waiting until someone showed some interest and picked them up. It all made sense, a clear picture appeared in Taehyung’s head like it had been waiting to make itself known, and it made nausea build in his gut. Even though he was young, it wasn’t a secret what the girls were doing on the street, that they were prostitutes and made their living through their bodies. It was never something Taehyung judged them by, knowing what it was like to be desperate, but the idea of Jimin doing the same, his Jimin who always put Taehyung first, probably was doing this for him, made his stomach twist and turn.
The moment Taehyung was about to go and ask the other, the moment he was to confront him, there was a car pulling up next to Jimin, and the younger felt his mind race. Suddenly forgetting about the daisies he had carefully poured his time into, ignoring the danger of quickly moving over the rusted metal without care, Taehyung jumped down from his perch to run in the direction of his best friend, but by the time he was close to the park gate the car was gone, taking Jimin with it. It left an absent space on the street where the other had been standing, and made panic build up in Taehyung’s chest, the idea that Jimin was going to go and let someone touch him all over for some money, even when they already had plenty to provide for at least another week.
Standing at the gate of the park, Taehyung tried to think, tried to brainstorm what to do in this sort of situation. He couldn’t follow the car, and there was no way of contacting Jimin at all, and he almost felt helpless when his only options seemed to be to either wait for the younger here or to go home. For the length of time they had lived in the attic, Taehyung had watched his surroundings to know that the girls always were returned to their corner, and he hoped the same would go for Jimin as the younger left the park, sitting on a bench that was positioned just by the entrance, deciding to wait for his best friend here instead of going to their home and waiting there.
There was an underlying anxiety teeming around the entirety of Taehyung’s body, like his nerves were coiled so tightly they were just waiting to snap, just waiting and ready to jump. He could barely keep his patience as he had to sit in one place, eyes fixed on the road, waiting for his best friend to return. It was a strange situation, and Taehyung normally had no problem with being focused on a single thing, but he was so tense that the seconds trickled by like minutes, the minutes trickled by like hours, and he had no clue at an estimate of how long it had been since he saw Jimin disappear into the stranger’s car, leaving not a trace of the other behind.
It felt as though time had stopped, and Taehyung was panicking more and more as no sign of Jimin appeared at all, mind racing around everything that could have happened. What if the elder had gotten hurt? What if he had been kidnapped, taken away from Taehyung to never be seen again? He wouldn’t know what to do if Jimin didn’t come back, depended on the elder to stay sane, to be loved, and he felt his blood rushing and mind spinning and there wasn’t anything he could do about it, not when his best friend, his brother, wasn’t there to help him.
It felt like days, months, years, but finally there was the same car pulling up, the same number plate that Taehyung had subconsciously memorised, the exact same model with a small dent in the side. It was a natural action to hold his breath, wait for any sign of movement, and soon enough the passenger door was opening, Jimin gracefully climbing out. Taehyung didn’t let his eyes leave the other, not when Jimin passed around the side of the car, when he was handed a large pile of money, when the car pulled away and left him alone on the edge of the road.
It was like Taehyung was in a trance, dragging his body up from the bench he had been sitting on, crossing the road without even checking side to side. He didn’t even register his feet passing one in front of the other, stepping up onto the curb just a few metres away from his best friend. All Taehyung could do was stare, as Jimin turned and finally caught sight of him, eyes widening until it should have been comedic but neither of them were laughing, just looking at each other, not saying a single thing. The world was still stuck, still wasn’t spinning as quickly as it was meant to, when lips were moving and not a single sound was coming out.
“What…” Jimin started, as though words had escaped him, trying to straighten his posture. “What are you doing here, Tae?” He asked, and there was an almost devastated look over his features.
It hurt, seeing the cascading waves of emotions that painted themselves over Jimin’s face, the misery that was caused by Taehyung’s presence, the fact the younger had found out his secret. It hurt Taehyung’s heart, knowing that the other didn’t want him to know this so badly, probably intended to never tell him for the rest of their lives and always treat his money as luck and coincidence, not the product of sacrifice. A part of that almost made Taehyung feel guilty for waiting for the other’s return, the sun now setting and the temperature dropping, him sure that Jimin would soon become cold from being in the thin clothes he wore.
“I was going for a walk,” Taehyung explained quietly, still staring at his best friend. “I didn’t realise…” He trailed off, trying to find what to say, trying to be gentle in his words. “Is this what you do? To get the money, I mean.”
“Taehyungie, I…” Jimin began, but he seemed to choke on his words, eyes still as wide and bright as the moon as he stared, holding the notes of money in his hand, hanging slack by his side.
Taehyung knew this wasn’t the time and place to do this, not when the light was fading, the sky becoming a dark grey. Their part of the city was always more dangerous when the sun bid its farewell, and Jimin was beginning to shiver in his clothes, Taehyung able to see the small motions. It prompted the younger to slip a jumper from over his head, one of the many layers he had over his body, handing it to Jimin without a word. The other parted his lips, tried to disagree, but Taehyung huffed and pulled the piece of clothing over the elder’s head himself, summoning a small smile on shaking lips. The walk back to their building was silent too, but Taehyung slipped his hand into Jimin’s, squeezed it tightly and hoped it was enough to make the other feel better.
“I’m not… I’m not judging you,” Taehyung promised, trying to act nonchalant as he helped Jimin pull their small wooden plank from across the hole in their floor. “You know I wouldn’t but I just… why?” He asked, the question being the one that was most on his mind out of everything racing around his head.
This sort of thing was delicate, and the last thing Taehyung wanted was for Jimin to close himself off, bottle everything up in a way that would kill him from the inside out. The younger probably knew his best friend better than he knew himself, and he didn’t want Jimin’s stubborn nature to make this anymore difficult, didn’t want their relationship to fall apart because he said something irreversible. He tried with all his might to treat the fragile conversation with as much care as he possibly could, quietly following Jimin into their bathroom to fill up one of their plastic bottles right behind the other, leaning into his arm in a display of affection.
If there was one thing Taehyung knew the other couldn’t resist, it was skinship, contact, and he knew Jimin found it comforting, was reassured when Taehyung was right by his side, hugging him, holding his hand. The elder was almost powered by affection, and it was something Taehyung knew, and so he made an effort to try and be as close as he could without it being suffocating, brushing their arms together as they walked to the old ladder that marked the entrance to their home, making sure to stay by Jimin’s side once they were in their attic.
“You were dying, Taehyung,” was the first thing Jimin said, sighing as he closed the trap door in the floor, head hanging low even when he stood up again. “We were dying, we weren’t going to survive the winter, and I couldn’t let you just freeze when there was something I could do,” he explained, and he finally looked up again to meet Taehyung’s gaze, and the desperation in his eyes felt like a stab in the gut.
And Taehyung understood, he did, and he knew that had he thought of the idea at the time, he might have been tempted to do the same thing too. Just looking at the other’s face made Taehyung’s body move forwards, and the younger practically threw his arms around Jimin’s body, pulling him into a hug so tight they could barely breathe. Despite that, Jimin was returning the embrace with just as much enthusiasm, every line of their bodies touching. There was nobody in the world that Taehyung loved more than the person in front of him, his best friend, his brother, and there was nothing Jimin could do wrong in his eyes, nothing the other could do to make him any less of an idol in Taehyung’s mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The younger whispered, but didn’t let go for a single second, nose buried in the crook of Jimin’s neck as close as he could be.
At that question, Jimin let out a small laugh, but the end of the sound became scratchy as his breath hitched, nose sniffing quietly. It prompted Taehyung to pull away just far enough to reach up his hands, thumbing the tears that had fallen on Jimin’s cheeks, wiping the liquid from flushed skin. The roles were normally revered, Jimin being the emotional anchor, Taehyung normally the one crying at their misfortunes, the elder trying to soothe him through affection. Now, it was the other way around, and Taehyung was determined to do as good a job as Jimin always did for him, pulling one of his sleeves over his hand to gently dab the tears away.
“Why would I want to tell you?” Jimin answered, voice thick as he cried, an occasional small sob forcing its way out of his lips. “That I was… was selling myself so we could eat, stay warm, do you understand how humiliating that is?” He choked; eyes squeezed shut as more tears forced their way onto skin. “And I couldn’t… If you decided you wanted to do it too, I don’t know what I would do, if you got hurt, I don’t…”
As much as Taehyung was bothered by the fact Jimin didn’t tell him, he understood why, knew his best friend’s reasoning for everything was probably the same as his would be in that situation. He knew Jimin was protective of him, saw him as the little brother he needed to care for, and he had witnessed and experienced firsthand how much the other worried about him, how much Jimin cared for Taehyung over himself. It wasn’t a surprise that Jimin hadn’t told Taehyung what he was doing when it was dangerous, when he could end up hurt beyond repair both physically and mentally, but Taehyung didn’t know why Jimin didn’t understand why the concern went both ways.
“I love you, Jiminie,” Taehyung murmured, and the sentence was the most truth he could ever summon, every word completely untainted by falsities. “But you can’t keep doing this,” he sighed, and he felt Jimin give another small sob, body shaking as Taehyung pulled him into another tight hug.
“But…” Came a quiet protest from the elder’s lips, but Taehyung immediately hushed him, ripping his hands tighter to the back of the jumper Jimin was wearing.
There was no way Taehyung would let the other keep doing this, keep putting himself in danger, keep hurting his body and mind over and over again. There was nothing Jimin could say to change his mind, not one combination of words in existence coming even close to swaying how determined he was to stop his best friend from making himself suffer just to try and make Taehyung happier. There was no amount of comfort Taehyung could be in that would make Jimin’s sacrifice worth it, even if he was covered in gold, silk, living in a house a hundred times larger than their attic, it still wouldn’t be worth the suffering.
“We have enough money to keep us going for a while,” Taehyung reminded him quietly, trying not to let his own tears fall at the other’s misery, wanting to be the strong one for once. “And if we keep stealing like we used to, we can sustain it, and if not…” he trailed off, although jumped in to not let Jimin have a change to justify himself again. “We’ll think of something, we will, I promise.”
Jimin stayed quiet, only small sniffs punctuating the quiet, and Taehyung noticed that it was getting colder, the sky dark outside the partially covered windows. With everything that had happened, they hadn’t gone to buy food that day, but there was enough from the last few days for them not to need to, some bread and fruit and cookies in a bright yellow packet. It was by far enough, especially when having all of that at once used to be a dream for them, it was all enough and they could survive without more and more and more, Taehyung was confident they could do it, confident that it would be long until they could actually get hired for jobs when they looked slightly older, confident they could steal enough or do enough favours, because that had to be enough.
“I just never want to see you like that again,” Jimin said, his voice so quiet that Taehyung almost completely missed it, every word rounded in a soft tone that made them slip into the air.
There wasn’t something Taehyung could disagree with there, because he would never want to be like he was in winter ever again, didn’t want to feel like the world had abandoned them and sentenced them to die. It had been scary, not feeling his fingers or toes, the uncontrollable shivering and constant fatigue, not knowing if you were going to wake up in the morning or die in the night and never know it. Even so, as much as he had hated every second of the winter, he would brace through it all over again if it meant Jimin never had to torture himself again, never had to sacrifice himself to try and make Taehyung happier.
“We’ll figure something out,” he repeated as a promise, starting to push Jimin in the direction of their pile of blankets, the elder starting to shake from the chill in the room. “Just please, stop,” he pleaded, and as he pulled away from their tight hug, he tried to meet Jimin’s eyes with as much desperation as he could show, trying to communicate just how much it meant.
It made Jimin freeze in his movement, the pair just staring at one another, both looking just as distraught and determined as the other did. Even though Taehyung could see a mirror image of his own emotions, he knew in his heart he had to win the other over to his side, had to stop Jimin hurting himself before it became too bad. Breaking their joint expressions, the younger gently prompted the other under the covers they had in their corner, cuddling down next to Jimin once he was laid down and burying his nose back into the crook of his neck, arms coming to wrap their way around the elder like a koala, entangling their legs together until he could barely tell who was who.
With everything he had, Taehyung tried to demonstrate just how desperate he was, clutching Jimin like his life depended on it, like the other would float away and disappear if he loosened his grip for even a nanosecond. He knew Jimin would want to do what was best for Taehyung, and it was just Taehyung’s task to try and convince the other that the best way forwards was to stop, that there were other things they could do and it was for Taehyung’s good that Jimin stopped. Once he managed that, he was sure that convincing him about the rest would be easy, at least while they coped with what they had, and Taehyung planned for them to never be that desperate again.
“Okay,” Jimin finally murmured after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, time warping while they were wrapped up in each other like two pieces of knotted string. “I will for you,” he promised quietly, and the younger couldn’t stop the smile growing on his lips. “For you, Taehyungie,” Jimin repeated and Taehyung’s heart flew into the air, pulling Jimin impossibly closer.
“It will be fine, we’ll be okay because we have each other, right?” Taehyung asked quietly, and he felt a small amused huff of air be exhaled onto his hair, Jimin returning the grip just as tightly.
“You’re right Tae,” Jimin answered, and Taehyung could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re together, that’s all we need.”
After that, things stayed the same, but they also changed all at once, as though details had been altered but they were too vague to be noticed at first glance. The large sums of money stopped appearing when Jimin returned home, but the elder had hidden enough around the attic for them to not have to steal for months and months, and so they saved that away, in case they were ever in dire need of the extra money. They returned to their alternating days, and Jimin seemed much more settled in himself, Taehyung carefully watching the other just in case something changed.
It was all routine, at least until there was a whole day where the weather decided they didn’t need to go outside, raindrops the size of marbles falling continuously from the sky. The clouds were so dark there was barely any light from the sun, and so they collectively decided that Taehyung didn’t need to go out that day, that they would both go out the next day to make up for the lost time. They couldn’t be too relaxed and not catch up on the sums of money they needed, not when they wanted to keep their savings for as long as possible, and so when the weather was clear and sunny the next day they both slipped out of the trapdoor, moving the plank of wood to cross their makeshift bridge.
They decided to split up, and so went in different directions almost immediately, bidding each other to be safe, not to get home too late, not to buy too many things and save any money they didn’t really need to spend. Taehyung wasn’t really worried about the day, it being normal routine, something he had now practiced to the point that he could verge into overconfidence, something he continuously kept himself in check for. Being cocky could land him in trouble, and so every time he felt himself being careless he would internally shorten his mind’s own lead, keeping himself in control.
A lady’s coat pocket had a lucky ten thousand won note, and Taehyung was thanking his fortune even more when he found another note of the same value just on the floor, slightly soggy from the rain the day before but good enough for him to be practically grinning. By now, he had ventured into the good part of the city, a fair walk through different cut throughs and alley ways, and the results of travelling this far were always rewarding. Despite their desperation, Taehyung didn’t like to steal from people near them, not when he knew their whole area wasn’t very wealthy, but the other side of their city was a different story.
It was where the buildings were towering up, where people wore clothes of designer brands that could cost more than the amount Taehyung had lived on in his life so far, a coat or a shoe able to provide meals for years. There was less guilt when he stole from people who travelled around in cars worth more than Taehyung’s whole life, especially when he stole a wallet but slid the credit card inside back to whoever it came from, the plastic rectangle no use to him when he didn’t know the code, had no way to order things online. People here normally carried around enough cash that he could bring over half home having bought the food they needed, and it probably was nothing but a tip to them, probably didn’t even matter in their busy lives.
He managed to gather eighty thousand won from a compartment in one man’s bag, sliding behind the target so he wasn’t even seen, hands moving so delicately and carefully that he didn’t feel a thing. It was an art, and it was one that Taehyung excelled in, the man none the wiser as he carried on his day, Taehyung watching him enter one of the tall, glass buildings with a neon sign. Honestly, he probably had enough money to go back home by now, but one more find wouldn’t hurt him if he was just as careful as he had been the whole day, and so he turned around in the direction of home, keeping his eyes peeled for one more target.
There was a hotel which he passed on his pathway home, one that rose into the sky so high that Taehyung was sure it scraped the clouds, and he could see it from their attic a fair distance away. It seemed to have completely glass walls on the outside, the blue colour making it hard to look into the inside, but Taehyung could still see that it practically screamed wealth, the people walking in and out just supporting that theory. It was women in smart suits or pretty dresses, men in shirts ironed so perfectly you could barely see a wrinkle, shoes shined to the point you could see your whole reflection in the toes.
As Taehyung passed by, there was a man that was stood to the side of the pavement, loitering near by the entrance of the hotel. Just from the clothes he wore, a black blazer with golden patterns swirling over the sleeves and around the collar, golden buttons, a thin, golden chain around his neck. That paired with black trousers, black shoes, a black shirt, it all came together to create a picture of wealth, make the other look like a model as he waited outside the fancy hotel. From the angle he was standing, all Taehyung could see of the face was honey skin alike to his own and a strong jaw, brown hair swept up neatly.
It would be tricky to steal from the man, especially when there was the outline of a wallet in his blazer pocket, but Taehyung was determined that the difficulty would be rewarded. People dressed like the man in front of him always carried around a ridiculous amount of cash, and it was something that never made sense to Taehyung, but it worked in his favour now more than ever. Thoughts flew by his head, but the perfect moment came when a group of ladies walked past, stopping by the man close enough that Taehyung saw his chance.
Slipping between a woman with a lavender dress draped around her body and the man, he slid his hand in carefully into the pocket as he passed, fingers lifting the leather wallet from the compartment to bring it subtly to Taehyung’s side. He didn’t stop walking for about ten metres, but dipped into a little break between buildings to look at his catch, trying not to be noticed by anyone around him. He had never been caught stealing yet, and he planned for him and Jimin to both keep it that way, especially when their capture would probably mean they were returned to the place they ran away from in the first place.
Peeking his head out of the gap, he could just about see the man he had stolen from, a face finally provided now he was in front of him. Taehyung never forgot a face, and this was one he was sure he had never seen before firsthand, even if the features looked oddly familiar for a reason he couldn’t put his finger on. There was just something about the other that he was recognising, and the thought crossed through his mind that maybe the other was famous enough or rich enough to be on one of the newspapers he sometimes saw in the shops, or in an advert on the side of a building.
It that was so, the reward had to be worth it, and Taehyung felt excited to look in the wallet until he watched the man reach into his pocket, frowning when he didn’t find what should be inside. That was the younger’s cue to leave, and so he started to run down the alley between the buildings he had hidden in, knowing vaguely where he was in the city. If he headed in one direction, he normally emerged on the main road near to their building, and so he just headed straight down the different narrow passes which declined in condition the more he continued, only stopping his running when he felt as though his lungs were about to burst. He was sure he wasn’t followed, and so Taehyung was happy to just walk for the rest of the journey, eventually emerging onto the street he predicted he would end up at.
From there, it was only a short walk back to the building, and he decided that whatever food Jimin bought could be their meals until they went to the shops again, it being Taehyung’s turn to steal tomorrow as well. He would probably stay closer to home, especially if the loss of the wallet was reported and there were police officers on the lookout for thieves, that being too dangerous a situation to get himself in the middle of. It was already suspicious when a child like him looked so out of place among the rich adults, what with Taehyung’s clothes all stained and damaged, hair greasy and unbrushed.
Into their building, up the old stairs, across their improvised bridge. Taehyung was tired from the running he did, but he still managed to drag the plank of wood to their side of the hole in the floor, letting out a breath once he realised he would just need to replace it if it turned out Jimin wasn’t home yet. It was fortunate, then, that the elder greeted him as soon as he stuck his head through the trapdoor, pulling his body up to their attic so they could close the entrance.
Taehyung produced from his pockets the money from the lady’s pocket, the money from the man’s bag, and finally the wallet from the other man outside the hotel, and he remembered that he hadn’t even looked inside it yet. The excitement he felt as he flipped the leather open was justified as he pulled out a wad of bank notes, probably around a hundred thousand won, and Taehyung knew he had brought a fortune home for them, Jimin adding seventy thousand won that he had gotten in the area closer to home.
As the elder put the money away, Taehyung’s curiosity had him looking through the wallet he had taken, admiring the way the whole thing screamed wealth. The black leather had metal letters attached to the bottom right-hand corner of the front, KNJ, and the nuns had taught Taehyung enough English for him to be able to read out the sounds the letters made, trying to see if it was a word. Eventually losing interest, he looked at the inside of the wallet, pulling out a credit card.
It was black, and Taehyung knew that meant the person was not just rich but rich rich, Kim Namjoon being the name on the surface in raised silver letters. That rang a bell, but not loud enough for Taehyung to really remember where he knew the name from, his mind being distracted by the holographic image in the corner of the card. His mind was odd, where he could remember things perfectly one second but sometimes not put his finger on things, something that happened when he hadn’t been paying attention when he first saw it. He could recite passages from books as long as he had read it, but images were much more blurry if his eyes hadn’t paid full attention.
Mourning the fact the card was useless to them; he put it to the side on the floor, Jimin picking it up probably to have a look to quench curiosity. Inside another pocket there was another card, also black, the same name, just the logo on the top different. Thinking that was it, Taehyung almost flipped the wallet shut again before he saw another break in the leather, more subtle, and he slid his fingers inside to pull out whatever was kept in there. Bringing something out, he could see that it was a picture, Taehyung immediately recognising the man he had just stolen from, this time dressed in a completely black suit.
What caught his attention wasn’t the man he had taken the wallet from though; it was the man who was by his side, a hand clasped onto who must have been Kim Namjoon, fingers on the corner of the other’s elbow. The other figure was nothing short of beautiful, and Taehyung wouldn’t be surprised if he was a model or royalty of some sort, a perfect face and posture perfectly straight. He was dressed in all black the same as the other, but his shirt looked to be shimmering in the picture, and he didn’t wear a blazer over the top, displaying naturally broad shoulders.
Taehyung could have stared at the image for hours, collecting every single detain until he could imagine the whole thing in perfect definition in his head, but a sound pulled him away from his findings. It was something coming from below them, and he could see that Jimin had frozen next to him as well, both just listening for another sound. It was probably a stray cat, or a bird, but there was a sense of foreboding in Taehyung’s gut, only heightened by the way Jimin was staring at the trapdoor with wide eyes, as though he expected it to explode.
It didn’t explode, but in an instant the entrance to their attic was thrown open hard enough that it managed to open all the way, no longer stuck so that only a small figure could get through. The sound was loud and sudden enough that Taehyung almost jumped out of his skin, instinctually clutching onto Jimin next to him, the elder pulling Taehyung to his side with a tight grip. Nobody had ever found them before, and they had never thought to prepare for a situation where someone came through their trapdoor, and it left them frozen in place, only able to stare.
Four people in suits burst into their room, coming out of the hole in the floor like a rat infestation, all holding guns directly pointed at the pair on the floor, Taehyung shaking with fear. In his head, he was convinced he was going to die, convinced that he was going to get shot, probably for stealing something he shouldn’t have. Stealing a look at Jimin, he could see the other was just as scared, but the way he was tensing his jaw told Taehyung he was trying to be brave, and the younger had never been more grateful for his best friend’s stubborn nature.
Once the four people were scattered around the room, still pointing their guns in Taehyung and Jimin’s direction, there was a pause, one where Taehyung could feel his heart racing in his throat, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum. It was movement again from the trapdoor that caught his attention, and he felt his pulse stop as a familiar face appeared in the entrance, it being the man he had just stolen from, his face arranged like stone. The final figure emerged, and shiny shoes slowly walked forwards to pick up his wallet from the floor, glancing at the credit card and pictures next to it before he plucked them with delicate fingers as well.
Taehyung had no clue what to do, could only squeeze his fingers even tighter around Jimin’s arm, wishing the other was hugging him instead, needing the comfort. If they died now, it would be Taehyung’s fault, even if he had no clue how the man managed to find him, sure he had been subtle enough with everything he did to get away unseen. Even when he had no faith in it anymore, he couldn’t help but plead a prayer in his head, beg to anyone or anything that would listen for them not to die, or for him to die and Jimin to escape. He didn’t want to be the reason the other didn’t get to grow older, but his mouth was too heavy and tongue too tied to possibly form a sentence to say.
In front of them, the man just stared at them, and there was something in his eyes that changed, Taehyung catching the shift, the way the adult’s face became softer as he looked over the children on the floor. He hoped that was a good sign, and his prayers seemed to be answered as a small hand gesture from the man made all the guns be lowered, the movement making Jimin flinch violently next to him. Silence, there being no sound made by anyone, not until the man stepped forwards, coming to within about a metre of them, crouching down to around their height. Taehyung didn’t move, not even when a small smile came over the man’s lips.
“Hello,” he said quietly, but neither Jimin nor Taehyung answered. “My name is Namjoon,” the man greeted, and Taehyung felt uncertainty in his stomach, not understanding quite what was happening.
When he imagined being caught for stealing, he had envisioned shouting, violence, being thrown to the police and sentenced to return to the place they had run away from. This was so far from what he had expected that it was almost making Taehyung laugh, hysterical, nervous giggles wanting to burst out of his mouth into the tense air around them.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Namjoon promised in a quiet voice, but he seemed to notice that the words didn’t do much in the grand scheme of things. “In fact,” he continued, turning to the people around the room. “Why don’t you all wait downstairs?”
All Taehyung could do was watch with wide eyes as the figures in suits tucked their guns into their blazers, following the orders given without protest as they left the attic through the trapdoor, disappearing without a word. It left Taehyung and Jimin with only the man, Namjoon, and Taehyung didn’t know if it was better or worse. He was willing to bet Namjoon had a gun on him too, and the adult’s hands were free now he had tucked his wallet away, letting him grab whatever he wanted around him.
“What are your names?” Namjoon asked, the small smile on his face making the words softer than they should be in the situation.
“I’m… I’m Jimin,” came the airy voice from beside Taehyung, and he almost wished the other had stayed quiet. “And this is Taehyung,” he added, and Namjoon’s smile just widened at the information.
“Well those are some good, strong names, huh?” He complimented, but Taehyung’s gut dropped at the next question. “Which one of you was the one who stole my wallet?”
“It was me, I did it,” Jimin immediately responded, and Taehyung moved his head to look at his best friend in a violent motion, eyes wide.
Well, that was nothing less than a lie, and something about that made Taehyung’s stomach churn. If the man in front of them was just here to punish the person who stole from him, then Taehyung wasn’t about to let Jimin take the fall for something he hadn’t done. For everything the elder had done for them, Taehyung wasn’t going to repay him by letting Namjoon take his anger out on his best friend. Jimin could have died trying to save them in the winter, and so Taehyung wasn’t going to let the other suffer again.
“No, it was me,” he declared, watching Jimin shoot him a desperate look, one he didn’t acknowledge.
“I have to say, you did it extremely well,” Namjoon hummed, and Taehyung felt confusion washing over his whole body, a compliment not what he expected in this sort of scenario. “I didn’t feel a thing.”
There was nothing in this scenario that made sense in the youngest’s mind, not when there should be shouting and screaming and cursing. He could have never imagined that one of his targets would compliment his technique once they found him, only pictured trying to escape punches and kicks, hiding until it was safe to emerge again.
“Do you two live here?” The eldest asked, and Taehyung watched Jimin just give a small nod of his head at the question, the youngest deciding to let the other answer. “Well it mustn’t be very comfortable,” he contemplated, and Jimin shrugged his shoulders.
“I have a son,” Namjoon told them, and Taehyung was confused about where this conversation was going. “Well, he’s not really my son, but I think of him as my son,” the seemed to ramble, and something about that made Taehyung feel slightly more relaxed, also feeling Jimin’s arm become less tense under his grip. “He lives with me and my partner, and is probably just a bit older than you two,” Namjoon continued, humming a bit with each word. “We found him outside a restaurant in Ilgok-dong, Gwangju, and took him in to live with us. He was all alone, and now we’ve given him a family. Do you think you’d like the same thing?”
“Wh… What?” Jimin stuttered, wide eyes matching Taehyung’s own.
“Do you want to come and live with me?” Namjoon asked again, but even the repetition of the question didn’t help much in the understanding of the idea.
“Why would you want that?” Jimin scoffed, face open in disbelief, and Taehyung was sure he mirrored the same expression on his own features.
“Because you look alone,” Namjoon shrugged, Taehyung watching him to try and see if he was lying at all. “And I want to help you, that’s all, I promise,” the eldest swore, and there was no deceit in his words, in his expression. “I was also quite impressed with your pick pocketing, and I’m sure you’d rather do that in a nice home where things actually belong to you rather than where you can get caught in the street, hm?” He added, one eyebrow rising over his head.
Jimin exhaled a laugh next to him, but Taehyung stayed quiet, thinking over everything that had been said. It would make no sense as to why Namjoon wanted to help them, wanted to give them a home if he could just have children of his own, not need the world’s discarded offspring. The man said he had a partner, and so what was stopping them from having their own family the normal way? It wasn’t until he thought back to the image in Namjoon’s wallet that he started to connect some dots, the whole situation coming together.
“Is your partner the pretty man?” The youngest finally asked, and the question seemed to catch Namjoon off guard as he asked Taehyung to repeat himself. “In the picture, is your partner the man next to you?”
“Yes,” the man answered slowly, nodding his head once in affirmation. “That’s Seokjin.”
Namjoon’s partner was a man, and if there was a picture of him in his wallet then Taehyung was willing to bet that they had been together for a while, or loved one another very much. That made more sense, why they needed to create a family from children who weren’t their own, and something about it made him trust the other more. In Korea, you don’t really admit to people that you’re nothing but straight, even Taehyung knew that, had been taught by the nuns that people like that were bad, unholy. Taehyung didn’t share the same view, but the fact that Namjoon was just letting them know with nothing but confidence made him feel like the other was more trustworthy than he first thought, especially when everything he has said had been far from a lie.
“He’s very beautiful,” Taehyung murmured quietly, and it received a small laugh from Namjoon in front of him, who seemed to agree if the reaction was anything to go by.
“All I want is to help,” Namjoon told them with bright eyes, and there really was only truth in his expression, nothing but the crystal clear truth.
“Okay.”