This wasn’t a part of the plan.

The rest of Jeongguk’s crew are waiting near the space-port already, though really they aren’t hard to miss in their all black attire, the emblem of Euphoria on the back of their jackets standing out against the darkness of their clothing. It’s not busy, late enough that there aren’t any passenger flights, just cargo and voyagers like themselves, so it doesn’t take Jeongguk too long to get there. It doesn’t take long for him to spot where Yoongi is standing either, listening to something Namjoon is saying, flipping his lazer absentmindedly between his hands. Jeongguk makes a mental note to bring it up next time Yoongi tries to talk to him about safe weapon handling.

He’s close now, and out of instinct, he reaches down for his own lazer too, which remains attached to his side at all this time. He frowns when he doesn’t immediately feel the smooth metal of the barrel, stopping in his tracks, because he doesn’t remember a time when it hadn’t been fastened snugly to his side. It’s hidden underneath his jacket just to be precautious. He has a license, he has to in order to have his job, but the emblem on his back says enough for people to not step on his toes. Or at least, it usually does. 

He frowns, opening his jacket to see an empty holder, swearing under his breath. He has no idea how he didn’t notice that it was missing before. It’s not like there’s many places it could hide, but he still pats himself down, as if the lazer would turn up somehow. He groans, already anticipating the lecture he’s about to receive when Yoongi finds out, and he can imagine the smug smile on his face, because his second in command loves chewing him out whenever he slips up. He says it keeps Jeongguk humble, which he guesses is true, he just wishes Yoongi would humble him out of the earshot of the rest of the crew. 

When he looks up, the man in question is looking at him, as if he knew Jeongguk was cursing him out. He nods when he sees Jeongguk coming, and then his eyes shift, eyes narrowing in question. Jeongguk’s heart sinks. Surely, there’s no way Yoongi could know that he lost his gun just by looking at him. He doesn’t have time to dissect the look, or notice the fact that Yoongi is looking past him, behind his shoulder, because Yoongi is starting to head in his direction, grim expression on his face. 

Jeongguk tilts his head, watches as the rest of his crew turn to look at why the second in command left so suddenly, identical looks of confusion materialising on their faces. Yoongi is yelling something that Jeongguk can’t understand, squinting to try and make out the shape of his lips from so far away. 

Before he can figure out, there’s a sound directly behind him, drawing his attention away.

Jeongguk instinctively tries to move away from the light breath he can feel on the back of his neck, belatedly realising that he shouldn’t have his back turned to someone that close to him. Before he can swing his body around, a tanned arm reaches out from behind him, presumably to wrap around his shoulders in an attempt to make him immobile, and he makes to grab it and throw it off, hearing yells as Yoongi and the rest of his crew get closer and closer.

Oh. Behind you.

His hand fumbles around the wrist that he’s trying to twist away from his chest, and he’s about to elbow the person harshly in the gut when he hears it, objectively quiet, but deafening right next to his ear. A dull click, then a familiar buzzing sound that he’s used to resonating from the palm of his hand. So, that’s where his gun went. The muzzle is warm against his temple when it presses against his skin, due to the energy of the lazer charging inside the barrel, and Jeongguk reluctantly stops struggling, hand loosening and letting go of the arm that he was trying to peel off him. 

He holds his breath when the person leans closer to his, talking lowly into his ear, amusement heavy in his voice. 

“Looking for this?” They say, and Jeongguk freezes at the familiar voice, taking a moment to process what he had said. The realisation has Jeongguk gritting his teeth, the laugh in his ear almost covering up the sound of footsteps running towards them, before they stop about five metres away from him. Away from them. “Nice to see you again.”

Ah, fuck.

~

Yoongi wakes up in the middle of the night, to the sound of his alarm going off. Which really, isn’t particularly unusual by anyone’s standards. Or at least, it wouldn’t be unusual, if it was his alarm clock going off, next to his bed. It’s still dark when he squints his eyes open, the clock reading 3am and he groans, shoving his head underneath his pillow, and trying to block out the ringing.

It takes him a few moments of slapping his bedside table aimlessly, before he realises that the sound isn’t coming from there at all. He sighs, reluctantly clambering out of bed. He already knows what it is, isn’t really surprised to hear it, but that doesn't mean he’s pleased to be woken up at a time like this to deal with. He finds his keys through blurry eyes, and heads downstairs to stop the piercing noise echoing around the neighbourhood, sighing in relief when the blaring noise stops. 

The night is silent once more, the street empty apart from a figure sitting on the side of the road with his back facing Yoongi’s house, legs kicked in front of him. Yoongi contemplates just going back inside, it would serve the brat right, but instead he finds himself shaking his head, throwing himself down next to the boy who had someone chipped his way into Yoongi’s life without him noticing. Unconventional. That’s how Yoongi would describe that process. 

Jeongguk first tries to steal Yoongi’s space buggy when he’s sixteen years old. 

(“He’s not doing well.”)

It’s the middle of the night and Yoongi storms out of his house, huffing and puffing, stopping short when he sees someone lingering near his car still, clearly not scared off by the alarm that had started going off when they’d tried to steal the vehicle. He falters when he spots a familiar face. 

He doesn’t exactly know his neighbours well, sticking to polite small talk and smiles of acknowledgement when they happened to enter or leave their homes at similar times. Like neighbours do. But then, it’s small talk that disappeared when they stopped coming home as often, smiles that became forced when there wasn’t really a reason.

(“We knew-,” He cuts himself off, swallows before continuing. “We knew it wasn’t going to be good news. But a part of me was still holding on, you know? Even if the odds are one in a million. I figured, if anyone is going to be that one, it’s him.”)

And Yoongi gets it, because he knows. He’s heard it from the girl who works at the convenience store, from the old man that walks his dog past his house every morning, from the cousin he babysits, that knows the Jeon kids through a friend of a friend. It’s neighborhood gossip that makes his stomach drop. 

The Jeon's had been living a nightmare over the past year, and it didn’t look like it was going to get any better. Not anytime soon, maybe not at all.

Still, that doesn't mean Yoongi isn’t surprised to see the neighbours older son, Jeon Jeongguk, standing outside his house in the middle of the night, trying to steal his car.

He’s a teenager at this point, but it would have been hard to tell just from looking. Jeongguk has that baby face, puffy cheeks never really going anywhere, but he looks even younger with his eye’s rimmed red from tears.

He looks hopelessly at Yoongi as he gets closer, hiccuping and rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

(“I promised,” He breathes, so quiet that Yoongi barely hears him, even in the dead of night. “I promised that nothing bad would ever happen to him as long as I was around,” Jeongguk laughs, bitterly. “Some big brother, I turned out to be.”)

Yoongi realises very quickly that Jeongguk wanted to be caught. 

He doesn't have any tools with him, wasn’t dressed in a way that suggested he had really thought this whole thing through, and Yoongi expects that his attempt of thievery had been tugging at the buggy door for a while, until the alarm had gone off. Yoongi can’t lie and say he’s never done anything wrong in his life, never committed petty crimes because at the time it made him feel a little bit of power, but he doesn’t think he’d ever done such a bad job of them.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jeongguk sniffs, wiping at his eyes aggressively, as if he could push the tears back into his eyes, and pretend they had never escaped.

It’s not clear what he’s apologising for, the attempted theft or crying in the middle of Yoongi’s driveway, but either way, Yoongi can’t find himself to be too angry. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”  He says.

He doesn’t really know why he says it, because he’s never been good at talking, never been good at saying the right thing at the right time. But there’s something about Jeon Jeongguk that makes him want to try. It isn’t really the time, isn’t really the place, but Yoongi watches Jeongguk break apart on concrete at midnight, and isn’t sure whether he’ll be able to put himself together again if he doesn’t talk about it now. If it isn’t to Yoongi, it isn’t to anyone, because Jeongguk has never tried that before. 

“Okay.”

There’s something about Min Yoongi, that makes Jeongguk want to try too.

And so they talk. Or more, Jeongguk talks and Yoongi listens, because that’s what he needs at that moment. He talks until he runs out of breath, and Yoongi thinks that Jeongguk is too young to feel this much, to hold so much pain, to have so much anger. He’s so mad at the world, fist clenched when he speaks, trying to find someone to blame and eventually settling on himself. It’s so clear in the dark, that Jeongguk could so easily destroy himself if he got the opportunity. 

Yoongi sees that fury, worries about what it could morph into, and doesn’t give it a chance to.

See, sometimes bad things happen to good people, and sometimes it isn’t anyone’s fault. But no one ever said that pain is logical. Jeongguk feels it all, lets it crash over him like a wave, doesn’t bother taking a breath before because he doesn’t think he deserves it, and really, there’s nothing that Yoongi can do to stop it from happening. 

(“You’re going to get yourself in trouble if you keep doing such a bad job at covering your tracks.” Jeongguk lowers his head, embarrassed.)

But he’s there all the same.

There’s no stopping a wave, not when it’s gained an unstoppable momentum, but there’s some sort of safety in knowing there’s someone there to pull you out of the water, after it hits. When it hits, it destroys, it sends Jeongguk sinking to the bottom of the ocean, makes him close his eyes and beg his lungs to give up already. But they don’t, and they won’t, and they can’t . There’s some sort of comfort in knowing that holding your breath doesn’t have to mean the same thing as drowning, if you don’t let it. 

(“So, let me show you how it’s supposed to be done.”)

A few weeks later, Yoongi sleeps through the night, but wakes up one morning to see his car parked in a different position to the way he left it. He feels almost proud when he sees Jeongguk later that day, and the younger can’t stop grinning. Sure, there are better ways to cope than stealing vehicles, but at least it’s not anger. At least it’s not drowning. 

That’s how Yoongi knows now, a few years on, that Jeongguk had set off his alarm on purpose, had never intended to steal it in the first place, because he was the one that taught him how to get away with it.

“You know you could have just text me if you needed me,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes as he takes a seat next to the younger, who just grins in response.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs when Yoongi screws his face up in distaste at the can of drink he offers him - he’s in his pajamas for God sake - though, it doesn't stop him taking it, satisfied when it opens with hiss. 

Jeongguk doesn’t get upset anymore. Or at least, not like before. He eventually finds out that, while pain may not be logical, it also isn’t infinite. At nineteen years old, he no longer aches with the weight of what has happened, what he could have done and what he couldn’t. 

“Got an early morning tomorrow,” Yoongi points out. “Shouldn’t be missing sleep when you’re going to need all the energy you can get.”

Jeongguk laughs around the lip of his can.

“I’m just going to be sweeping the deck,” Jeongguk says nonchalantly, but Yoongi sees through the facade easily enough, sees how proud Jeongguk is of the fact that he’d managed to get himself a place on a ship. “But one day. Euphoria is going to be mine.”

That’s more like it. From anyone else it would sound cocky at least, delusional at most, but Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever believed in someone more than he believes in Jeon Jeongguk. 

“Just toe the line for now, Guk,” Yoongi says warily, and Jeongguk grins.

“Don’t I always, hyung?” 

Yoongi pulls a face, and it sets Jeongguk off laughing.

“Sure you do, kid.”

~

Space isn’t supposed to be dark.

It doesn’t have a night time, as such, doesn’t have a day either, not unless the hours are set by someone else. People are the ones that decided that life needs numbers, constant starts and beginnings, a point to start again. And maybe that’s a good thing, to feel like you’re getting a refresh every so often, even if nothing has really changed. 

But space is complicated. Because it’s draped in darkness, always looks like night, and it’s hard to enforce a day, when the day looks like everything else.

The sky is dark, but it isn’t supposed to be. 

It’s called Olbers’s paradox - the night being dark doesn’t make sense, if you consider all the stars in the sky. If there are so many stars, so many sources of light, evenly distributed throughout the universe, space shouldn’t be dark.  No matter how far away, if there is an infinite amount of stars in the infinity that is the universe, space should be bright. 

Except, maybe the universe isn’t infinite. 

We all know the story. It started with a point, an explosion,  an expansion that is still happening today. If the universe has a birthday, the universe has an age, with too many zeros to put on a card, too many candles for a cake. But not an infinite amount. It’s predicted that the universe is about 13 billion years old, give or take a few billion (it’s the same number of zeroes, but not the same number of candles), which means in turn, that the oldest stars must be that age. 

As the universe is always expanding, that’s a lot of time for those stars to have travelled far enough away that when we see them, we’re not really seeing them . Really, the space we see is a delayed snapshot, a picture of the past, meaning the stars we see could even be dead by the time their light reaches us. But that’s another story. 

Where we stand, the light of the farthest stars - and really they’re all far - hasn’t had a chance to reach and contribute to the sky we see today. If the universe was infinite, in age, in size, space would look very different - stars overlapping stars, the universe set on fire. 

Space isn’t supposed to be dark, but it’s probably for the best that it is. How else would you see the stars?

And if we still choose to have night and day, that’s probably for the best too. If night and day are black and white, space is shades of grey, something undefined, something . And even if the Universe isn’t infinite, it’s big enough that there are plenty of places to run, plenty of places to hide, and even more places to get lost in. 

For some people, that’s for the best.

~

When Jeongguk became captain of Euphoria, he hadn’t been aware that there would be so much admin work involved.

Jeongguk’s job is getting their cargo, which is usually pharmaceutical stock, from Planet A to Planet B, without getting caught in any asteroid showers or black holes on the way, and maintaining order of his crew. Big pharma has money to spend, trusts Jeongguk’s crew to get their equipment, their drugs where they need to be without any problems along the way. He’s good at it, he knows he is, because he has to be. Each mission, he carries a billionaires potential profit, a government's investment for the year, because what it costs to make, is nothing compared to what it can sell for. It’s the most profitable industry in the solar system for a reason.

There’s no room for error, and Jeongguk never slips up. It wasn’t exactly a dangerous job, at least not now that technology was so advanced, but there was one thing that put his life at risk every single day: Admin work.

“Right, if you don’t get your ass to this meeting in the next ten minutes, I’m going to overtake Euphoria for myself.”

Okay, maybe two.

Min Yoongi is Jeongguk’s second command, his right hand man, the brother that he never had. But right now, he’s just being a massive pain in the ass. He’d stormed into the navigation tower where Jeongguk was located, eventually finding Jeongguk among piles of paper, stacked precariously on every possible surface. It’s old fashioned, Jeongguk knows, but looking at screens and holograms for too long gives him headaches, so he’d rather have the documents in his hands.

Jeongguk had been trawling through CV’s for days now, trying to find a new medic for Euphoria, since their current one was planning to leave in a few weeks. Usually, it would be easy enough to find someone else, as some members of the crew tend to switch between ships depending on what was required for the trip, but he was yet to find a replacement that would be suitable.

The issue this time was that they were mid-voyage, and getting a new medic to join in the middle of a mission, and at such short notice, would prove to be difficult, especially when the person would need to be from one of the planets they planned to have a rest stop on. He’d had multiple applications from residents of Pluto, which is where they were planning to stop, but none of them had been good enough. Or at least, not by his standards. 

Yoongi doesn’t seem surprised to find him still there, hours after he’d left the captain to complete some of his own duties, already knowing that Jeongguk had forgotten the meeting that he needed to attend with the rest of the senior crew members. 

“Maybe if you let me help you, you wouldn’t have so much to do,” Yoongi says with a roll of his eyes, when Jeongguk argues that he’s too busy to go to the meeting, the younger pulling a face in response.

Jeongguk is far too headstrong to ask for help, even with the most menial of tasks, and Yoongi knows that. He can’t really criticise, because it’s probably his fault that the younger boy is the way he is. Jeongguk is too stubborn for his own good, determined to get anything he sets his mind too, which is also  how he managed to become a captain at the age of 25, one of the youngest to ever do so. 

“It’s either you attend this meeting, or we make the decision for you,” Yoongi points out, changing tactic, and he’s not surprised when that finally gets Jeongguk to put down the paper he’s holding with a sigh. 

They both know what there wouldn’t be any decisions made without their captain present, or without his approval, but if there’s anything that Jeongguk hates more than being interrupted in the middle of something, it’s not being in control of the situation. It’s not surprising that the threat alone is enough to make Jeongguk drag himself out of the navigation room, albeit reluctantly. 

It isn’t a long walk to his office, where the meeting is being held, probably five minutes at most, and unsurprisingly no one dares to interrupt the pair as they move through the ship.

If anyone were to ask, Jeongguk wouldn’t say that he’s scary. He doesn’t raise his voice, he doesn’t snap without reason to, and he’d like to think that he’s fair when he does have to reprimand people. When he was working his way up the rankings, Jeongguk had dealt with more than enough assholes with authority that they didn’t earn, to know that he didn’t want to lead like them. He didn’t want to achieve obedience through fear, he wanted it through respect. 

However, he’d learnt pretty early on that if he wanted people to give him that respect, he had to present himself a certain way. The all black uniform of Euphoria is intimidating enough as it is, the gold trimming on the lapel standing out against the material, but Jeongguk knows that there’s something particularly striking about the uniform being paired with the dark hair, dark eyes, and dark stare. There’s something untouchable about him looking like that, walking around like that, with his chin high and gun strapped to his side at all times. Jeongguk knows that he plays the scary role well when he needs to. 

Yoongi almost feels sorry for the guys that he catches loitering in the corridor leading up to Jeongguk’s office, because they don’t notice them until it’s too late. He says almost, because this wasn’t the first time they’d been caught. If there’s one thing that Jeongguk can’t stand, it’s people that don’t pull their weight, and he made it clear to everyone who joined their crew that he wouldn’t allow slacking off at the expense of others.

The men in question don’t notice them until they stop a few metres away, and Jeongguk interrupts their conversation with a cough. They both jump, straightening up when they see Jeongguk and Yoongi in front of them, looking less impressed. 

“Captain Jeon!” One of them exclaims, laughing nervously when Jeongguk just raises an eyebrow at them.

“Do you have a weaker tolerance to gravity that everyone else?” Jeongguk asks, sounding almost bored when he says it. Both men shake their heads quickly, confusion clear on their faces. “Are you sure? The way you’re dragging your feet seems to suggest otherwise.”

They’re slow to process what he means, and when they do, their cheeks turn red. Still, they stay frozen in place, and Jeongguk’s gaze turns hard. Yoongi has to stop himself from laughing at the terrified expressions of the men opposite them.

Jeongguk isn’t scary. 

“Don’t you have work to do?” Jeongguk says, more than asks, when neither of them make a move to get back to work.

But he’s something close to it.

He and Yoongi watch as the two scramble to leave, bowling as they go, and Jeongguk shakes his head, continuing to walk, but at a faster pace than before, obviously irritated.

“Would it kill you to not make your crew fear for their lives every time they see you coming around the corner,” Yoongi asks, easily falling into step next to Jeongguk as they continue walking towards the Captain’s office. 

Jeongguk just shrugs. 

“I’m not scary, I’m stern,” Jeongguk replies, as he pushes the door to his office open.

He’s unsurprised to see that the rest of the group are already there. It’s not that he’s late, because he’s never late, but his office is in a completely different wing to the navigation tower, and the incident in the hallway had slowed him down considerably. It probably didn’t help that he was so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t realise the time until Yoongi had showed up.

“Tell that to the engineers you just made almost piss themselves,” Yoongi drawls, rolling his eyes and nodding at the rest of the people in the room as they enter, noting how they’re dotted around the room chatting with one another. 

Jeongguk’s office isn’t particularly big, but it doesn’t really need to be - just a desk, and a few cabinets, and some chairs. In the centre is a screen, not unlike the one that he was working on a few moments ago, where information about the ship, whether it’s to do with it’s route, or it’s thermostat, can be accessed and changed. It all matches, minimalist and white, apart from the antique looking piano tucked into one of the corners, dark oak sticking out like a sore thumb among the modern aesthetic of the room. 

He likes it though, despite how Seokjin insists that the colouring is all wrong for the room. 

Really, the main draw of the room is the window taking up the majority of the space behind his desk. At first glance it looks like a projection on a green screen, a perfect image of the galaxy and all it’s stars printed onto the wall, and it has taken Jeongguk a while to get used to the fact that it’s real, and he’s just a glass pane away from it. No matter how used to seeing space he is, it’ll never not take his breath away to see it stretched about before him like this. You don’t tend to get into this line of work, if you don’t enjoy having your feet off the ground. 

The atmosphere remains relaxed as they enter, a testament to how close the senior members of the crew are, and Jeongguk already knows what’s coming when he sees the glint of amusement in Seokjin’s eye, having caught what Yoongi had said as they entered. 

“You pissed yourself, Guk?” Seokjin asks, faux sympathetic despite how Jeongguk glares at him, moving towards his desk, which the older man is leant against. He’s playing with the globe that Jeongguk had recently got in preparation for their latest trip, absentmindedly throwing it up in the air and catching it as he continues to talk. “Not again.”

The younger stays silent as he plucks the model Earth out of the air mid-throw, putting it behind his back when Seokjin reaches to take it back.The planet is the one that they’re headed too on this mission, and the last thing he needs is for his replica version to end up in pieces on the floor. 

“He was scaring the crew members again,” Yoongi explains, and no one seems particularly surprised to hear it, knowing how Jeongguk can come across to others.

The man in question rolls his eyes. 

“I just want to make sure I have their respect.”

Unsurprisingly, he’s ignored. Clearly, that’s going well. 

“Remember when the new guys first started and Jeongguk told them all that he’d tie them to the transmitter pole if they slept in. The kids looked like they were about to cry, ” Hoseok adds, leaning against the wall adjacent to the door. 

Stood in the middle of the room, Namjoon shivers. The threat was a particularly sensitive topic for the head of Navigation, who could only imagine the disruption of such a thing happening. 

“I’m sorry, but who here was elected Captain?” Jeongguk interrupts. He puts his hand up, looking around to see whether anyone else had done the same. “Captain of the scholastic decathlon team doesn’t count,” Namjoon’s hand goes down. “And neither does captain of the under-12’s basketball team,” Yoongi’s hand goes down.“Oh, would you look at that? I guess I’m the only one!”

Really, they all know that Jeongguk already has the respect of his crew. He had worked his way up the ranks, having had the same opportunities as everyone else, proving himself to be worthy of the role that he had been given. When their last Captain had retired, they’d had a vote to decide who was most capable to be their next leader, which Jeongguk had won almost unanimously. Still, it wouldn’t be fun if they couldn’t tease him

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure the ballot counter was being paid under the table,” Seokjin says with a sniff, and Jeongguk narrows his eyes.

“You were the ballot counter.,”

Seokjin nods. 

“That’s how I know it was corrupt.”

Of course. 

“What’s this meeting about anyway?” Namjoon asks, from his position leaning against the piano, unaffected by the look that Jeongguk sends.

They all turn to Jimin, who had been the one to call this meeting in the first place.

“We need a new medic,” Jimin explain, and Jeongguk groans, thinking that he’d escaped this topic for at least a few minutes. He already knows what’s coming, when Jimin turns to look at him, eyes narrowed accusingly. “And clearly Jeongguk doesn’t trust my judgement.” 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, busying himself by returning his replica Earth onto his desk in order to avoid meeting Jimin’s eye. That couldn’t be further from the truth, and Jimin knows it.

Jimin had insisted that he had the perfect candidate for the position, but Jeongguk hadn’t been so sure. Apparently,  Jimin had met this guy on a holiday when he was a kid - he’d shown them the pictures -  and this guy was now working as a doctor who wanted to try his hand at being an on-board medic. He had been spending the last few months in Pluto, which happened to be one of their upcoming rest planets, so it would work out perfectly. Or at least, it would have until Jimin had mentioned that his friend hadn’t ever stepped foot on a spaceship before. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Jeongguk insists, sighing at the way Jimin sniffs in response. “I just don’t think hiring your friend with no experience of being a flight medic is going to end well.”

It’s not that being a crew medic is harder than being a land-based medicine, really Jeongguk would argue that it’s probably the opposite, because it’s pretty unlikely that there are going to be any serious medical emergencies in the space of a few months of travel. The worst it tends to get is when Hoseok gets muscle strain from unloading particularly heavy cargo, or Seokjin forgets to wear his gloves in the lab and gives himself chemical burns. 

The issue is more that being a flight medic requires an additional skill set, one which usually takes months of work to achieve. Not everyone is cut out for life on a ship, whether it’s because of the time away from home, or the space-sickness caused by the sensation of the moving spacecraft. Jeongguk can’t be blamed for being apprehensive about hiring a medic that had no experience, or training in the field.

Jeongguk explains as much.

“Just because everyone wasn’t born with space-legs like you…” He says pointedly, and if it were anyone else, Jeongguk would have flushed. “What’s the worst that could happen?”  

Even if he’s being rhetorical, he rushes to keep talking when Jeongguk opens his mouth to answer, possibilities already on the tip of his tongue.

“He could pass out as soon as we take off because he can’t take the space-sickness, fall on the navigation panel, lock our coordinates to a hostile planet where we’re forced to land,” Jimin opens his mouth to interrupt. “Then, Yoongi will be forced to marry a member of the royal family as a peace offering, but the wedding invite will say it’s smart-casual, and since Hoseok only owns sweatpants he’ll get killed by the formal-wear overlords that run the planet, and the wedding will be ruined.”

They’re all silent for a while, each trying to process the fact that the man in front of them was not only their Captain, but was known for making people cry just by talking to them hashly, even if it was an accident. 

Jeongguk has a smug smile on his face, while Jimin shakes his head, massaging his temples. 

“Wow,” Hoseok eventually says, breaking the silence. 

He turns to Yoongi, clapping his hand roughly against the older man's back, and almost sending him flying in the process. Yoongi spins around when he regains his footing, sending a look Hoseok’s way that looks like a cross between what the fuck and what the fuck! 

“Marriage! Congrats, bro!” Yoongi lets out a noise like a growl, and Hoseok puts his hands up in surrender. 

He was killed in Jeongguk’s scenario and was still supportive of his friend,so the least Yoongi could do was say thank you. Jimin sighs. All he wanted was one meeting that was at least somewhat focused, and didn’t involve marrying off crew members in the name of keeping the peace. Was that too much to ask?

“A planet run by formal-wear overloads?” Namjoon asks, and Jeongguk nods solemnly. 

“Yeah. It’s called Suiturn.”

What was he thinking? Of course, it was too much to ask. 

“Okay, well I’m going to skip past...whatever that was,” Jimin interrupts, gesturing with his hands towards where Jeongguk stands. Really, he can’t complain, when they were the ones that made him that way. “I really don’t think that space-sickness is going to be an issue for my friend. He’s used to movement like that, because of the sea. So, your scenario is even more unlikely to happen than it already was.”

He says it so casually, that Jeongguk doesn’t pick up on it until Yoongi points it out.  

“He’s from Earth?”

Oh, right. The sea . 

Jeongguk has never been to Earth. But more importantly, he had never seen the sea. Or at least, not in a way that he would count, because all he really remembers from the rare times that they’ve flown past over it on their way to somewhere else, is blue . He doesn’t remember it, but he must have passed Earth to get to Venus. 

He learnt when he was young, that the sea moves because of the Moon, so he imagines that it must be loud when you get close to it, crashing against the land every time it comes in - the tide is what they call it. So, he can’t think how it would feel to sleep on the sea, can’t even imagine how you could do so without slipping straight to the bottom. He’s heard of times when the waves aren’t gentle and they do just that; They pull people away, and don’t let them come back.

It makes him uneasy to think about, even if he knows that space is capable of doing the same thing, that’s where the term space-sickness had come from afterall, from the Earth term. But the unknown of space is still familiar. The rocking on the ship that you only feel in the middle of the night, or when they define night to be, doesn’t feel as scary as it once did. 

He wonders if the sea is like that - silent in the day but loud in the night, a terror that eventually sinks into a reminder that it’s okay, you’re moving, always moving. Now, he finds it hard to be on land for too long, feels trapped regardless of how much gravity there is on the planet in question, and itches for when they can take off again. He’d like to see the sea, properly see it, but he doesn’t think anything could compare to this , that he observes every time he looks out of the window. The universe is constantly getting bigger, and he’s always liked that. He likes the fact that he can keep running, keep moving, and never have to stop.

“Yeah, he grew up there,” Jimin admits, though he sounds almost guilty, as if he hadn’t meant to let the information slip. 

It’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with being from Earth, really they look and act just like the rest of them, but there was a stereotype that Earthlings weren’t exactly welcoming when it comes to people from other planets. It was never outright hostility, not enough to start a conflict, but there was no denying that the planet liked to keep to itself as much as possible. Nearer to the start of the Universe, it had taken a long time for Earth to communicate with the rest of their solar system, let alone the rest of the Universe, with some even denying their existence completely. Even now, Earth still seemed reluctant to broaden its horizons, sticking with its more outdated technology and limited flights in and out of their atmosphere. 

To hear of someone from Earth wanting to join a space crew that was based on another planet no less, is pretty much unheard of. 

“All the more reason to hire him,” Jimin continues, “He can help us out while we’re on Earth, visit some of his patients while he’s there, do his consultations online while he’s with us.” 

Jeongguk assumes that  if he hadn’t travelled on a spaceship before, he must have travelled between planets using their cross-planetary train network, the Milkyway. You don’t really get to see anything of the Universe using that method of transport, since the shuttles are enclosed into tunnels, so he guesses that the medic had never seen space like they had. Jeongguk can’t imagine it, doesn’t really want to.

Jimin is right. It’d be helpful having a native with them for the week or so that they’ll probably stop there, before heading home again. Earthlings aren’t known to be dangerous, more suspicious than anything, but they’d probably be more readily accepted if they had one of their own as part of their crew. Then again, even if Jimin vouches for him, there was no guarantee that the new medic would even be cooperative with them, or if he’d be just as standoffish as the rest of his planet often are. 

“It’s not like we can really afford to be picky,” Seokjin points out, seeing Jeongguk wavering. “You know it’s illegal to travel without a medic on board, and Sujin is leaving on the next stop off. It’s either this kid, or we break the law.” 

“God forbid we do something illegal,” Jimin drawls sarcastically, and Jeongguk sends him a warning look. 

They’re all aware of exactly what goes on in this ship, but Jeongguk had always been careful to not talk about it outloud. Everyone in the room knew about it, played a role in it, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a possibility of the wrong ears listening in.

“Unless you want to revert to your life of petty crime?” Hoseok teases, easing the tension. Jeongguk scowls.

Teenage Jeongguk had gone through a rebellious stage, and they loved to bring it up, since it’s such a contrast to the way he is now. He’s a stickler for the rules, almost too much he’s told, but he has a lot of responsibility as the Captain, a position that he can’t risk jeopardising. He knows they’re joking when they tease him about it, but he still pouts a little whenever it’s brought up.

Jeongguk thinks that making Yoongi his second in command all those years ago was a mistake, because clearly his friend doesn’t have a shred of loyalty in his body. He blames Yoongi entirely for the fact that the people in the room even know about that, because if it were his choice he would’ve let that secret die with him.

“I’m reformed,” Jeongguk bites, and the rest of the crew try not to laugh at the way the younger's forehead creases in annoyance. It’s just too easy.

They all ignore the elephant in the room.

“You make it sound like he was way cooler than he actually was,” Yoongi laughs. “Stealing your neighbour's space buggy in the middle of the night and returning it before they wake up because you know they have work in the morning. Isn’t exactly Escobar levels, is it?”

“Public transport would have been a bitch on Monday morning, I’m not evil,” Jeongguk explains with a shrug. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.” 

In simple terms, it’s safe to say that Yoongi and Jeongguk’s friendship hadn’t started in the most conventional way, but then again, the best friendships never really do. 

Yoongi grins, thinking back to an adolescent Jeon Jeongguk, with his fringe covering all but the antagonistic expression on his face. Gone was the cocky drawl, the daring looking in his eye whenever he saw an opportunity to do something he wasn’t supposed to do, and Yoongi almost wants to coo thinking of the stuttering mess that had replaced him. 

“Okay, so, as the infamous space-buggy stealer-” Jeongguk interrupts with a grunt, and Jimin clears his throat dramatically in response. “As the reformed space-buggy stealer,” Jeongguk nods, puffing out his chest with a satisfied look on his face, not noticing the endeared looks his hyungs send him in response. “I’m sure you’d agree that we can’t break the rules by not having a medic. And at the moment, we don’t have any other options.”

Jeongguk knows that they’re right, but can’t help but still feel uneasy about the whole thing. He twists one of the rings on his finger, a nervous habit that he’s never quite been able to shake, and Jimin seems to notice, voice turning gentle when he next speaks.

“I promise, I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he was good enough,” Jimin says, eyes sincere in a way that makes Jeongguk feel bad for giving him such a hard time about it. “You need to trust me.”

And Jeongguk does. 

He trusts the five people in the room more than anyone else, and he knows full well that the weight of the responsibility he has, feels a lot lighter than it used to because of them. They can’t make the decisions for him, and he wouldn’t ask him to, but he believes them when they say he knows what’s best for his ship, for his crew. Because he does, he knows he does, he just sometimes needs a reminder. He finds a different definition of family here; from the labs, to the operations room, back round to the neighbour that decided that maybe the space-buggy stealer isn’t so bad. 

They’re all looking at him expectantly, and he sighs. It’s not like they have much of a choice. 

“Fine, he can be the new medic,” Jimin is now grinning. “But as soon as we finish this mission, we’re getting someone fully trained for our next one. I’ll talk to base about it.” 

Jimin nods eagerly, though he doesn’t look convinced by Jeongguk’s threat, pulling out his phone, presumably to contact his friend and tell him the news. The holographic figure of the person he’s calling doesn’t appear above the screen, and Jeongguk figures that people on Earth may not have that feature.  

“Trust me, you’ll be begging him to stay by the end of this trip,” Jimin says confidently, putting the device to his ear and moving towards the exit. 

Jeongguk can’t help but scoff at that. A captain doesn’t beg. 

“He specialises in paediatrics, so he’s perfect to look after a kid like you.” 

Jeongguk just nods, realising too late what Jimin had said, screwing his face up in annoyance when he sees his office door swing shut. The rest of his friends shake their heads when Jeongguk starts pacing towards the exit too, hand curled up into fists.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

What’s the worst thing that could happen? 

The remaining members exchange exasperated looks, as Jeongguk swings the door open, yelling as he goes.

It looks like they’re about to find out.

~

Jeongguk likes Pluto, for the most part. 

It’s pretty small, fairly quiet, and most people there tend to keep to themselves, which is exactly what Jeongguk needs when he steps off Euphoria to stretch his legs during their rest stop. Euphoria is big enough that he can seek privacy if he wants it, but he likes to take their respite as an opportunity to walk around and think by himself. 

The only thing he doesn’t love about Pluto, is how cold it is there. Pluto orbits the sun, but you wouldn’t think so with how chilly the place gets. Before he’d stepped out, he’d winced seeing the ‘-220 degrees celsius’ on his phone screen, sighing before getting all his gear on. On Pluto, everyone looks the same when they’re all in big puffy coats pulled over their heads, walking fast so they can get out of the cold as quickly as possible. It’s always possible to tell a tourist, by the way they scurry around the streets, heads down and hands in their pockets. 

While they still have to wear protective gear, natives of Pluto tend to be acclimated to the environment, so can at least walk about leisurely, with fewer layers, without much concern. Unfortunately, there will always be some that take advantage of that. The cold weather of Pluto is debilitating if you aren’t used to it, aren’t properly equipped for it, and some people will take advantage of that, knowing  that it’s hard to keep a hold of your belongings when your hands are numb. But really, it’s the same anywhere. On Venus it’s the opposite - people’s hands becoming so damp with sweat that their possessions literally slip into the wrong hands.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t mind being there. He has time to kill afterall. They’re hoping to leave in a few days, as soon as spacetraffic control gives them clearance to do so, and today is the day that Jimin is going to collect their new medic and have him officially join the crew. Jeongguk can’t lie and say that he’s still not concerned about the whole thing, reluctant to invite strangers onto his ship, even if they are friends with someone he trusts. But there’s not much he can do about it now. 

Currently his mind is occupied by the fact that the sandwich he’d brought with him from the ship had frozen in the Pluto air. He contemplates trying to eat it anyway, but it makes a dull thudding noise when he hits it against his other hand. Maybe not. He could just wait until he gets back to ship, he’s heading there anyway, but if he went to the effort of making the sandwich, he wants to at least get to eat it. 

He glances around him, to see that no one is really paying attention to him, before reaching underneath his coat. His hand latches on the metal object, and then he’s bringing the gun out into the open. It’s a laser gun, one of the most powerful ones there is, and though Jeongguk had never needed to use it much, it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially when the cargo they carry on Euphoria is worth as much as it is. 

Really, he isn’t supposed to have weapons on him unless declared - and he definitely had not done that - but Jeongguk isn’t stupid enough to go out on a fairly unfamilar planet and not bring some sort of protection with him. It was careless for him to bring it out now, but it’s not like anyone is paying attention to him. That was his first mistake.

He flips his gun in his hand, feeling the familiar weight in his palm, before aiming the lazer at his sandwich. Seokjin had taught this technique of using the laser to re-heat or defrost food, but if anyone asks, it wasn’t him. Satisfied, he shoves his gun back underneath his coat. The food always comes a bit charred around the edges, more on the crunchy side, but Jeongguk can’t afford to be picky right now, pleased when the sandwich becomes soft in his hands. He finishes it quickly, standing up to carry on his journey, but hesitates before he sets off again. He swears he can feel someone watching him, but when he looks around everyone he can see seems occupied in their own conversations. He shrugs, pulling his coat tight around him, but not bothering to zip it up properly, before carrying on his journey.

He usually doesn’t take short cuts, since he doesn’t know the area very well, and you never know where they could lead, but it’s still light enough that Jeongguk doesn’t feel particularly concerned about what he might come across. That was his second mistake. That, and the fact that he wasn’t really paying attention as he walked into the alleyway, legs working on autopilot while his mind is elsewhere. If Yoongi could see him now, he’d give him a bollocking for being caught off guard, but if Yoongi could see him now, he probably wouldn’t have ended up sprawled on the floor.

One moment he’s walking aimlessly, and the next he’s flying off his feet, when something heavy collides with his right side. It happens so fast, that for a few moments he isn’t sure what’s happening, a solid weight crashing into his side, eventually making him tumble to the ground with a thud. 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk grunts, feeling the side of his face scrape against the ground when he falls, glad that at least he was wearing a big coat, that manages to cushion most of the impact.

It happens so fast that he doesn’t notice the hand brushing against the side of his body, or the hand on the back of his head, that stops his skull from hitting the concrete with the momentum of the fall. He’s far more focused on who, or what, had just just crashed into him.  

For some reason, whatever he hits decides to shout, even though he isn’t the one to hit the ground, and Jeongguk winces at the commotion the person is making. Whoever it is has a low voice, but one that he clearly knows how to use, the sound projecting for a while, before it abruptly stops.

Despite the pain, Jeongguk is quick to push the weight off and sit back up, not knowing if someone had attacked him, or if it was an accident. There’s a grunt next to him, confirming that it was in fact a person who had fallen onto him, if the screaming wasn’t enough confirmation, but he’s sure they must be fine, since they used Jeongguk’s body to cushion their fall. 

“Shit, are you okay?” A low voice asks, calm now, compared to the ruckus they’d created when they’d first fallen.

Jeongguk has to resist the urge to snap back something sarcastic. Clearly, he isn’t. He guesses the voice must belong to whoever had crashed into him, and even if they sound innocent enough, Jeongguk can’t take any chances. He traps a groan in his throat when he staggers to his feet, squinting his eyes when a flare of pain comes from the left side of his face. 

He’s dealt with worse, but the fact that his head is spinning from the sudden change in orientation, isn’t helping matters. Through his blurred vision, he’s able to make out a figure, around his height, but with a slightly smaller build. Quickly evaluating the situation, Jeongguk is confident that he could take them easily if he needed to. 

“Relax, I’m not trying to start a fight,” The person says, putting their hands up in surrender. 

Which is exactly what someone who wanted to start a fight would say. 

Jeongguk knows that he probably shouldn’t believe him just like that, but it’s not like he has much choice, when he’s suddenly hit by a rush of lightheadedness, that is somehow strong enough to have him hitting the ground once again. This time, he’s at least able to land on his knees, before falling onto his back. He thinks he hears the stranger swear, but he can’t really concentrate on anything other than stopping himself from being sick. 

“Come on, let me help you, ” The stranger says, and Jeongguk just groans. “You need to sit up and put your head between your legs,”

He can sense a shadow over him, the person who he’d crashed into moving to crouch by his side. 

Really, he doesn’t think he needs to do anything, but the person is insistent in a way that makes Jeongguk wonder why he couldn’t have just been hit by a delivery robot or something. They’re trying to be helpful, he gets it, but the firm hands on his shoulders stopping him from moving quickly when he does sit up, only irritate him. “Slower! You might be concussed!”.

“You’re the one that told me to sit up,” Jeongguk mutters, eyes still squinted because of the pain, seeing a blur of black in front of him. 

He holds his own hand up to his cheek, where most of the ache seems to be coming from, and he’s not surprised that his hand comes back damp. When he takes his hand away from his cheek, he curses at the blood he sees. He’s used to getting injured on the job, so really, this is more an inconvenience than anything to really be concerned about. He wipes his hand on his trousers, grateful not for the first time that they’re black.

The stranger’s hands come back, first on Jeongguk’s wrist to pull his hand away from his face, and then to push Jeongguk’s head down. The person is barely there, their fingers not even properly gripping his hair, but Jeongguk still finds himself gritting his teeth at the way he’s being moved around like a ragdoll. 

He sits there for a few minutes, too focused on trying to deal with the dizziness, to shake off the cold fingers pressed against the back of his neck. Sat on the floor in an ally with his head between his legs, and a stranger practically petting his hair, he’s suddenly grateful that at least his crewmates can’t see him right now. 

When the blood has rushed back to his head, and the spinning has stopped, he lifts his head, and it’s not even a second before his chin is grabbed and his face is angled to the side. Jeongguk scowls, this time having the sense to shake the hands off him, before turning to glare at the person who had caused this.

The first thing he notices is that the guy is dressed in all black, just like him, with a thick jacket thrown over his shoulders, presumably to keep out the Pluto cold. But he must be visiting the planet, or had recently moved there, because his skin is golden, a tan that you couldn’t have gotten from somewhere so far away from the sun. If Jeongguk had to guess, he would say the guy must be from Venus, because despite his dark attire, he seems saturated in warm colours, contrasting with the greys and blues surrounding them. 

Eventually, his eyes drag to the person’s face, and he’s surprised that the low voice he’d been hearing doesn’t seem to match the young face staring back at him. The stranger looks to be around Jeongguk’s age, and the sting of his injury somehow fades into white noise, when he finds his eyes lingering, gaze dragging across the stranger’s sharp jaw, strong eyebrows, and symmetrical features. It’s an understatement to call him handsome, really he doesn’t think there’s a word for it, but this stranger is like no one he’s ever seen before, and he can’t help himself from staring. The stranger smiles, as if he knows what Jeongguk is thinking, and maybe if he were a little smarter, a little stronger he would have shaken himself out of it. 

Jeongguk had never considered himself weak, he can’t be because of his position, but he feels something close to weakness nowCaught off guard and distracted by a pretty face? Yoongi would kill him if he found out.

If Jeongguk didn’t know better, he’d think he was looking at an angel. Clearly, whatever accident he’d gotten into, had killed him. That had to be the only explanation for a face like that. He frowns. How is Yoongi going to kill him, if he’s already dead? He snaps out of it when the angel presses harshly into the cut on his face. 

“What the fuck ,” Jeongguk finally says, not realising that the stranger had moved closer to him again. This time, they let him go fully, shifting back to sit on their knees. There’s a handkerchief in his hand, which is confusing in and of itself, because who even uses those these days?

“I’m trying to stop the bleeding,” The stranger explains, as if it’s obvious.

He says it nonchalantly, sitting back on his heels now. This guy didn’t seem to have any qualms about the fact that he’d just bulldozered Jeongguk over, hadn’t even apologised, and now Jeongguk is starting to reconsider his previous thoughts. Maybe the person in front of him is actually a devil. 

Usually he wouldn’t be so outwardly rude, knowing that it was probably an accident, but he’s so tired, so close to the end of his tether, that he snaps without thinking. 

“I can handle it myself,” Jeongguk hisses, pressing his sleeve against his cheek. The material of his uniform is rough against his skin, but it does the job.

The injury probably looks worse than it is, because that’s always what happens, like the universe wants to add a bit of drama, without carrying through with the consequences. The mess of blood on his face makes for a more gruesome image than that reality, but the stranger doesn’t seem phased by the sight of blood, offering his handkerchief again, this time for Jeongguk to take. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” The man mutters, when the blood starts to drip down Jeongguk’s chin and onto his lap, and it takes everything in Jeongguk’s body to not growl at that, instead opting to snatch the material with a grunt. 

Absentmindedly, he notices how soft the material is, probably silk, and thinks about how impossible it will be to get the blood stains out of it once he’s done with it. He’d feel bad, if the situation were different.

The man stands up to brush himself down, before holding out a hand to help Jeongguk too. Unsurprisingly, his offer is ignored, the captain clambering to his feet by himself. He feels fine now, his vision no longer blurry and his head no longer spinning. 

Now that he feels more like himself, he turns on the stranger, glare already on his face. Though, he doesn’t get to say anything, before the other man interjects.

“So!” He says, sounding too cheery for the situation. “What’s your name?” 

He doesn’t seem bothered when Jeongguk just stares at him in disbelief, lips pressed tightly together. He raises an eyebrow, at the silence. 

“What? You don’t have a name?”

“I have a name, I just don’t feel the need to share it with you,” Jeongguk replies, and opposite him, the figure in black just looks amused. He smirks, looking like he knows more than he lets on, and it makes Jeongguk uncomfortable for some reason. 

“Okay, anonymous, ” He says, in a way that sounds like he’s making fun of him. “Clearly, someone’s not in the mood to chat.”

Jeongguk makes a face, one that translates as obviously fucking not and the stranger just shrugs. 

Dressed in all black, with a face like he has and a condescending smirk on his face, he should come across as intimidating, and in any other situation, Jeongguk would probably find himself weak at the knees just at the sight of him. Though, then again, that probably would have nothing to do with being scared. 

“Aren’t you going to apologise?” Jeongguk asks, when the stranger just shoves his hands in his pockets, pulling up the collar of his coat and looking like he’s about to leave, since Jeongguk doesn’t seem interested in making conversation. He raises one eyebrow, seemingly surprised by Jeongguk’s suggestion.

This guy, who had caused this problem in the first place, is now acting surprised that Jeongguk doesn’t want to suddenly be his best friend. As if that was a normal response in this situation. He swears this guy doesn’t look like he’s from Pluto, but maybe he is, and this is some cultural difference that he isn’t aware of.

“Apologise for what? Maybe, you should have looked where you’re walking,” They reply with a shrug, making Jeongguk bristle.

He knew he hadn’t exactly been completely aware of his surroundings, but it was the stranger that had crashed into him, with a force that had come entirely from his direction. If he’d been looking, perhaps Jeongguk would have seen him coming, been able to brace from the fall more effectively. But he doesn’t think he could have prevented it.

“Maybe, you should pay more attention to what’s going on around you,” Jeongguk bites back, which seems to amuse the stranger even more. 

He’s rocking slightly on his heels, looking Jeongguk up and down in a way that makes him feel exposed, despite the layers that he’d put on that morning. There isn’t anything salacious about his gaze, it’s more calculating than anything, dragging over Jeongguk’s body like it’s being analysed. The gaze lingers where he knows the Euphoria emblem sits proudly on the left side of his chest, but the jacket he’s wearing covers it up. For a second, he wonders whether the stranger would have treated him with more respect if he knew who he had just bowled over. But then again, this man doesn’t seem to care about things like that. 

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. I’m always paying attention,” He answers vaguely.

Jeongguk scoffs, and having had enough of the exchange, he takes out his phone, eyes widening slightly when he sees the time and the mass of notifications on the screen. He was supposed to be back at the spaceport by now, ready to greet their new medic, and instead he was having an argument with a brick wall. He winces when he reads the most recent message, seeing a preview of a holographic that Yoongi has sent him. He already knows that it’s going to be Yoongi just glaring at him - those are his go to’s

He looks up, seeing that the stranger is peering at the device in curiosity. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that the guy had never seen a holographic before, though that wouldn’t make sense, because there was only one planet that didn’t use them, and there was no way it’s inhabitants would be all the way on Pluto. Hastily, he shoves the device back in his pocket, schooling his face into a frown once again.

If he’s embarrassed to be caught looking, the man doesn’t let it show. Though, then again, he appears to have a general lack of awareness when it comes to cultural do’s and don'ts, so perhaps it’s not all that surprising. 

“Got somewhere to be?” The man asks. Jeongguk nods, more a jut of his chin than any sort of proper engagement in the conversation. 

The stranger’s eyes flicker to the side of Jeongguk’s face, and it’s then that he remembers that he’s still got the guy’s handkerchief pressed to his face. Jeongguk moves the material from where he’s pressing it against his skin, parts of it now saturated in blood. At least now when he touches his face, the cut feels crusty, the blood dry for the most part, which he supposes is a good thing. He hesitates, holding the bloody piece of cloth in front of him, and the man just shakes his head.

“Nah, you can keep that one,” Jeongguk nods, not bothering to argue, instead shoving the handkerchief into his pocket and making a mental note to get rid of it as soon as possible. He could do without a souvenir to remember this moment. The man hums, nodding to the injury. “Should probably get that checked out. I don’t think you’ll need stitches, some antiseptic and a bandage will do.”

“What do you know about injuries, apart from how to cause them,” Jeongguk can’t help but bites back. 

Now the stranger’s face splits into a full on grin. If Jeongguk were less annoyed, less frustrated, he would notice the details of the uniform the stranger is wearing, the emblem printed on the right arm on his jacket, the way the stranger seems to be struggling not to laugh. He bites his lips, tilting his head as if he’s considering Jeongguk’s words, before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“You’re right, what do I know?” He says solemnly, the agreement making Jeongguk narrow his eyes. From what he’s learnt about the man from this exchange alone, he didn’t seem like someone who would suddenly back down. “Should probably get a professional to take a look at that for you.”

And that’s exactly what Jeongguk intends to do. He figures that it’s probably not the best way to introduce himself to the new medic - ‘ Hey, welcome to the team, can you please stitch my face back up?’ - but it’s not like he has much choice in the matter. 

Talking of which, he really has to go. As much as he doesn’t want to back down, he needs to get himself to the spaceport already, before Yoongi sends a search party out for him. 

“Good luck with sorting that out,” The stranger says, still not a hint of apology in his voice, even as Jeongguk is clearly planning to take his leave. 

The alley isn’t that narrow, but there isn’t really enough space for Jeongguk to get past if the stranger doesn’t shift slightly out of the way. The latter doesn’t seem to have any intention to do so, hands still in his pockets, body relaxed. In fact, he laughs right in Jeongguk’s face when he motions for him to move to the side, raising an eyebrow, as if to say make me.

Jeongguk just grits his teeth, making no effort to be gentle when he shoves past the stranger, their shoulders meeting roughly, where the space is too narrow for them both to fit.  

“Hey!” The man calls, when Jeongguk doesn’t stop walking, about to take off into the night and head to his destination, like he intended to before this ordeal even happened. He’s got at least another twenty minutes to go before he gets to the spaceport, so he needs to go now.

He doesn’t know why he bothers to turn around, but when he does, he sees that the man is heading in the opposite direction, walking backwards towards the other alley entrance, where Jeongguk had come from. 

He gives a little salute, and even as he’s moving further away, Jeongguk can see the teasing smile on his face. It’s one that never seems to drop, but it still bothers Jeongguk to no end. He frowns at the action too. He’s used to people saluting him, and while at first he’d been uncomfortable with it, he had learnt to accept it as part of his job.

It’s usually used as a sign of respect, but from this stranger it comes across as sarcastic, the lazy flick of the wrist paired with a teasing smirk. Jeongguk scoffs, turning back around and looking down at his phone once again. He’d already wasted enough time on someone he was never going to see again.

The voice continues to shout, getting quieter and quieter, but still cutting through the quiet.

“Have a safe flight!” Jeongguk freezes. 

When he spins back around, the alley is empty. He knows he probably looks stupid, standing alone with his mouth hanging open in surprise, but it takes him a few moments to force himself to snap out of it.

He glances down at his body, trying to figure out whether there was evidence of his connection to Euphoria anywhere on his clothing. All he sees is his black coat, and he knows that all back attire isn’t anything distinctive to their crew. Afterall, the other man had been wearing the same thing. 

He sets off again, trying to shake the feeling of unease as he goes. He brings his phone back out as he walks, pushing to the side how there’s something about this whole thing that doesn’t feel quite right, and focuses on unlocking the device and messaging Yoongi to let him know that he’s on his way.

He’s distracted as he does so, his mind running through the conversation he’d just had, trying to figure out any part of the exchange that could’ve revealed who he was. He can’t pinpoint anything, hadn’t even given his name when he’d been asked for it, and while it shouldn’t really matter when he wasn’t going to see the guy again, he can’t help but want an explanation.

How did the stranger know who he was?

~

The journey takes 15 minutes, the journey time shortened by the sharp words that Yoongi had said to him when he rang him seconds after receiving the messages from the Captain. Holograph Yoongi is about as intimidating as real life Yoongi, small balled fists and fluffy hair hiding the frown on his face, though Jeongguk is at least relieved to know that the medic hadn’t arrived yet either. Even if he doesn’t intend to keep the medic as a permanent member of the crew, he isn’t one for bad first impressions. Besides, he knows that this person means a lot to Jimin, so he supposes at the very least he should be there to greet him when he arrives.

Well, he can’t say that he wasn’t there. 

That brings him to now, with his own gun pressed against his temple. 

Even if he can’t turn around and assess the man holding him hostage, he recognises the voice of the man from the alley, sounding just as unbothered and carefree as he did back then. Clearly, the unsettled feeling that Jeongguk had felt had been warranted, though he’ll admit, he hadn’t got a potential hostage taker, murderer, vibe, from him. But then again, how much can you really know someone from a ten minute conversation?

He thinks back to warmth against his side, fingers pressing near his ribs as he’d fallen, and he guesses that the stranger must have managed to take his gun from him mid collision. But how had he known where to look, when it shouldn’t have even been known that he had a weapon on him?

His crew have their lasers out, pointing at the person holding Jeongguk hostage. There’s Yoongi at the front, Hoseok just behind him, and Jeongguk guesses that Jimin wasn’t back from collecting their new medic yet, because he knows full well that his friend would have been front and centre if he’d been there too. 

The arm that’s not holding the pistol wrapped across Jeongguk’s front, pressing the captains back against his own chest, is loose. It’s a warning that Jeongguk would be stupid to try and squirm away, but the lack of conviction in his grip is cocky - he has no reason to brace his arms because there’s no way his hostage would risk trying to break out of the situation. He simultaneously holds the gun like he’s used to it, too casual with the weapon not to be, but also like he has no idea what it does, letting it slip slightly every so often.

See, on a physical level, Jeongguk could quite easily break out of the hold, the arm limp and the hand that’s clasped in a fist over his chest barely touching the fabric of his shirt. It’d be easy. He’d elbow this guy in the gut, grab the limb around him and twist it, until the positions were effectively swapped. But if it were Jeongguk, the arm keeping him hostage would be braced tight.

But Jeongguk knows that pressing a finger against a trigger would take less time than it would to do any of that. Even from their short interaction before, he already knows that the other man is difficult to predict. 

Jeongguk feels shaking against his back, and he realises that his captor is laughing at the sight of a dozen guns being pointed in his direction. Of course he is. 

“What are your terms?” Yoongi asks, not lowering his laser as he steps closer to the pair.

“Don’t negotiate with him,” Jeongguk says with a huff, shutting his mouth abruptly when Yoongi glares at him. It’s a look that says ‘ Well, I don’t see you coming up with any suggestions for getting out of this’ and while it’s a valid point, Jeongguk still isn’t happy about it.

Despite the fact that there’s cold metal being pressed against his temple, Jeongguk can’t help but be annoyed that Yoongi is even considering negotiating with some rogue, while said rogue doesn’t seem at all bothered about the unfamiliar crew surrounding him, or the fact that this could end very badly for him. 

“Sweetheart,” Jeongguk grits his teeth, realising straight away that he’s the one being addressed, the voice loud in his ear. He wills his foot to stay on the ground, instead of instinctively swinging back to kick this guy in the shin. “It’s either we reach an agreement or you end up with a bullet through your temporal lobe.”

He shuts his mouth abruptly. He’s got a point. Still, he sulks, starting a soon to be extensive list of reasons he wants to kick this guy in the balls the second he has the opportunity to. Number one through seven address how nonchalant he is about anything, too confident and amused to take anything seriously, even when he’s engaging in attempted murder. Not that Jeongguk really thinks this guy has it in him to pull the trigger, but he supposes at this point he can’t afford to make assumptions. That clearly hadn’t gone well for this thus far.

“My request is a pretty simple one,” The man says, voice casual as if they were discussing the weather, and nothing more. Jeongguk is almost offended that his kidnapping isn’t considered a particularly exciting part of this guy's life. “I want to join your crew.”

It’s safe to say that no one expected that. Usually, the demands are related to money or something equally superficial, and while he can’t say he’s enjoying this, there was a part of Jeongguk that was interested in knowing exactly how gold necklaces and jeweled bracelets his life is considered to be worth. 

Despite the equally perplexed expressions on his crew mates faces, the request seems serious enough.

For a moment there’s silence, Yoongi, the self elected spokesperson unsure how to respond, which gives Jeongguk the opportunity to share his deeply thought out, incredibly well articulated reponse, that would hopefully get him out of this situation unscathed. 

“No way in hell.” 

The blunt objection seems to surprise the man, because he lets out a short, barking laugh in response.

“Captain...” Yoongi grits out, and Jeongguk realises that he must be near the end of his tether if he isn’t referring to Jeongguk by name, but by position.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the person he’s negotiating with, and Jeongguk can almost see the thought cross his right hand man’s face, the proposition of maybe leaving Jeongguk behind if he wants to compromise this rescue attempt so much. 

Not that he ever would. Sure, Yoongi would be able to take over Jeongguk’s position should anything happen, and there’s not a doubt in his mind that Yoongi would make the lives of anyone who thought to abandon Jeongguk hell. He’d do it for anyone, but Jeongguk especially. 

“Why exactly do you want to join our crew?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I’ve always wanted to see the stars up close?”  The stranger replies, and it takes everything Jeongguk has not to say something about telescopes. “How else am I going to get a place on the elusive Euphoria ?”

Clearly he’d done his research, or at least recognised the emblem on their jackets. Though, this must have been planned, since he’d somehow known that they would be at the station at this time. Jeongguk frowns, wondering if there’s a rat on the ship who had leaked this information. 

“Ever heard of an internship?” Jeongguk mutters, getting a little fed up of having a gun pressed against the side of his head.

In retrospect, he probably should have kept his mouth shut.

He hears the vibration in his ear, the tell tale sign of the laser in his gun charging, and his eyes widen. The crew behind Yoongi attempt to move closer, but the man must shoot them a warning look, because they stop where they are. Jeongguk can see Hoseok coming almost in line with Yoongi,  face like thunder, angry in a way that he rarely is. Clearly pleased with the reaction he receives, the way Jeongguk promptly shut his mouth, albeit with a glare, the stranger decharges the lazer once more.

“I don’t think I was asking you, Captain ,” The body behind him points out, the same taunting voice used when he says the title, like before. 

Yoongi’s face betrays nothing, but when they get out of this, and Jeongguk knows they will, he’s sure that Yoongi is going to teach him something about the proper way to behave during a hostage situation. He’s pretty certain that making sarcastic comments isn’t recommended. But that’s a future Jeongguk problem.

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jeongguk replies shortly, careful not to anger the man. “I’m not your Captain, and I never will be.”

He isn’t dumb enough to risk turning his head to see, but he’d hazard a guess that the guy is pouting, because he’s practically whining when he next speaks.

“Well, what am I supposed to do when you refuse to tell me your name?” The stranger asks innocently. 

The statement clearly confuses the rest of the crew who don’t know about the interaction that the two had previously. He risks a little shake of his head when Yoongi shoots him a questioning look. Now probably isn’t the best time to start explaining the trails this man had already put him through that day. 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. Here, I’ll go first,” He continues, and while it shouldn’t really matter, Jeongguk can’t help but be a little interested in the identity of the man. “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Kim Taehyung. 

Jeongguk’s frown somehow manages to deepen, his whole face scrunched up as if he were wincing due to the sun, but for once it’s not out of annoyance, but more genuine confusion. For some reason he feels like he’s heard the name before, the syllables feeling familiar to him as he mouths the name under his breath. 

“Okay, Taehyung,” Yoongi says eventually, with an expression on his face that Jeongguk can’t quite place. He looks as if he’s thinking hard about something. “Can you give us a second to discuss your demand?”

Taehyung must nod, because the group are soon huddling together, some remaining facing their captive Captain, making sure nothing happens while their backs are turned. Taehyung himself doesn’t seem like he’s in any rush to do anything, whistling as he stands with Jeongguk’s laser pressed against the owners temple. 

Jeongguk wonders whether he’s just this carefree and laidback, or if he doesn’t understand the seriousness of what’s going on. Despite being sure that this Taehyung had no concept of reality, there’s no doubt that he handles himself with a confidence that shows he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

It’s a new feeling for Jeongguk to feel out of his depth, unable to predict someone’s next moves, when he’d always prided himself in being one step in front of everyone else, since it was how he managed to get where he is at such a young age. He’s realising now that Taehyung seems to be two steps, three steps, four steps ahead, circling back and lapping them, with an ease that can’t be taught.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Taehyung says after a few moments, and Jeongguk doesn’t know what that is, but assumes that he isn’t looking for a response. 

Yoongi keeps glancing in his direction, even as he’s leading the discussion with the rest of the crew, and Jeongguk wishes he was telepathic. He’d probably start by apologising for getting himself into this position, before insisting that he doesn’t even think of accepting Taehyung’s request. 

He can’t say he’d rather die than have Kim Taehyung as a part of the Euphoria crew, because there’s a chance it could become a reality if this goes wrong, but it’s surely something close to that. He can’t imagine Taehyung would be one to follow his orders, or anyones orders really. The thought alone makes Jeongguk groan.

It’s a risky move, but Jeongguk doesn’t regret it when his elbow makes contact with Taehyung’s rib cage. The force isn’t enough to do anything, it won’t even leave a bruise, and Taehyung himself doesn’t even seem bothered enough to make any move to reprimand him. 

“Don’t be like that,” Taehyung taunts, amused more than anything. “Didn’t you miss me?” “In the twenty minutes we were apart?” Jeongguk responds dryly, willing his crew mates to finish their discussion quickly so he doesn’t have to interact with Taehyung any more than he already has. “How did you know that the whole time I was wishing you would come back and try to murder me.”

Taehyung seems to like that answer, throwing his head back and laughing. It’s not loud in his ear, but Jeongguk feels it through his own body, as if it’s his own.

“All the best friendship start with a murder attempt,” Taehyung explains, and Jeongguk doesn’t reply. “You don’t want to talk?”

“Surely, you want to know how I stole your gun? Why I’m doing this?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention, but he’s also not willing to show that. Luckily, Taehyung, like all good villains - which is what Jeongguk has concluded he is - seem to enjoy monologuing, even when no one is asking him to. 

“What did I tell you? I’m always paying attention,” Taehyung says. “Next time you want to hide that you’ve got a weapon on you, maybe don’t use it to defrost your lunch”

Jeongguk flushes. He hasn’t realised that anyone had seen that, and knowing that Taehyung had, of all people, makes him want to dig a hole and bury himself in it. At the same time, he kind of wants to bury Taehyung in that hole instead, or at least shove the dirt in his mouth so he can’t talk anymore. 

“What if someone dangerous had spotted you?” Taehyung asks, and Jeongguk snorts. More dangerous than someone holding a laser to his head? “Ah, there’s much worse people out there than me, Jeon. Should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

He’s not even sure why he’s even bothering to defend himself to someone like Taehyung, but there’s something about the assumption that he’s careless that gets to him. He’s spent his whole career thus far being meticulous in everything he does, more so now that one slip up could destroy everything that he’s been building up in the past few years. 

“So, I suppose you noticed the two guys that were following you ever since you flashed your expensive toy in the high street?” Jeongguk falters at that, face going pale. “The same ones that were about to enter the alley way with you, before I crashed into you and they ran away?”

Suddenly, he remembers the fuss that Taehyung had made when he’d first fallen, shouting loudly, before abruptly stopping a few moments later, as if nothing had happened at all. He realises now, that perhaps Taehyung was trying to draw attention to the alley they were in, to ensure that the two men couldn’t try anything, since Jeongguk was no longer isolated, and there were witnesses around. 

“And even on the way here, you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, even after having an interaction with a shifty character like myself.”

He’d had multiple parties on his tail, and he hadn’t noticed a single one. If it wasn’t certain before, not he knows that Yoongi is definitely going to kill him when this is all over.

“So, you’re doing all this to teach me a lesson?” Jeongguk asks carefully, not believing for a second that Taehyung is doing this for any reason other than to entertain himself. 

Taehyung shrugs.

“Humour me,” Taehyung continues, not answering Jeongguk’s question. “Aren’t you even a little bit scared.”

He tuts when Jeongguk tries to turn his head to glare at him, tapping the pistol against Jeongguk’s head as a reminder that he’s the one in control here. Unable to move anymore, Jeongguk just shakes his head, and then the arm around his body moves until there’s a fist on his chest, then the hand unfolds so the  palm is placed directly over Jeongguk’s heart. For some reason, it makes Jeongguk feel uneasy, almost more so than the weapon being held against him, as if Taehyung could reach into his chest, rip his heart out, if he really wanted to. 

“Are you sure?” Taehyung leans closer then, talking so quietly that the rest of the crew couldn’t have heard what he was saying even if they were paying attention. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast...”

And it is, Jeongguk can’t deny it, but he also can’t explain it. 

“You wouldn’t actually hurt me,” Jeongguk says, with a confidence that he doesn’t have. 

“And how can you possibly know that?” Taehyung asks, sounding amused as usual. “How’s your cut doing, by the way.” 

It’s a reminder that, really, he already had hurt Jeongguk. Collateral damage, even if he hadn’t made a single strike.

“It’s cute that you think that’s the only way I can hurt you,” He continues, and he doesn’t sound threatening exactly, but Jeongguk has to fight to stop himself from shivering at the words. “Or that this,” He moves the laser slightly. “Is the worst way I could hurt you.”

Jeongguk frowns, not really understanding what he means, but he keeps his mouth shut regardless. He reminds himself that, really, he has no idea what Kim Taehyung is capable of. 

“Well, Taehyung,” Yoongi says, the group finally breaking apart.

Jeongguk perks up a little, or at least as much as he can given his current situation, hoping that this will wrap up quickly. He’d give anything to be back on Euphoria right now.

“If you let him go, I’m sure we can find a space for you on board.”

Anything but that. 

Yoongi purposely doesn’t look in Jeongguk’s direction, knowing the betrayed expression that will be sent his way. Jeongguk can’t think of anything worse. 

“What do you think, Captain?” Taehyung asks, and Jeongguk grits his teeth at the sing-song voice. Taehyung knows full well that really, it doesn’t matter what Jeongguk thinks. “Would you like me to join your crew?”

Jeongguk is silent. 

It should all be over then. Jeongguk should be able to go back to Euphoria,  lock himself in his office and pray by some miracle that Kim Taehyung gets into a freak accident involving the escape hatch and a pair of hands pushing him off the edge. It’s a comforting thought. 

“I’m honoured by your enthusiasm,” is the deadpan reply, and then Jeongguk is letting out a small grunt when he’s kicked in the back of his leg, forcing him to fall forward onto his knees with a thump. 

He’s starting to realise that Kim Taehyung is one for dramatics.

Absentmindedly, he wonders if this is some sort of ironic playback for the times that he’d pretended to pray when he was a kid, sneaking one eye open and watching everyone else with curious eyes, trying not to laugh at the kid that always feels the need to whisper their prayer under his breath. Apparently the boy who constantly tries to steal Jeongguk’s allowance every month, is asking for forgiveness for wetting the bed the night before. Jeongguk is pretty sure he’d never read the bible text about turning pee to prayer, as opposed to water to wine. 

Then, he’s not thinking, because there’s a hand rough on his shoulder, the tapping of a barrel against his skull once more. It was embarrassing enough being restrained by someone he could easily beat in a fist fight, but it’s nothing compared to being on his knees in front of him, being forced to look up at his crew mates from the floor. 

Opposite them, Yoongi’s eyes flash, his anger leaking through the calm facade that he’d kept up until now. 

“We said you can have what you want,” Yoongi says, voice hard. “Why are you still doing this?”

“No offence, but why should I trust you guys?” Taehyung responds. “How do I know that you aren’t going to go back on your word and feed me to the stars the second I let Captain Hook over here, go?”

Jeongguk doesn’t know who that is, but he’s fuming either way.

Aside from that, Taehyung has a point. While it’s ironic that Taehyung is talking about trust and integrity it’s true that there’s nothing stopping them from getting Jeongguk back, and then immediately handing Taehyung over to the police. Jeongguk wonders if that’s what the plan was the whole time, because Yoongi’s eye twitches, his mouth flattening into a line. 

“What do you want? Money?” Yoongi asks, clearly growing impatient. Jeongguk at least finds some comfort in the fact that he isn’t the only one who feels like tearing his hair out after interacting with this man for more than five minutes.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Taehyung asks, blunty. “I’m going to need something from the Captain, for insurance.”

Despite how he tries to conceal it, Yoongi’s face falls, as does the rest of the crew.

While Jeongguk had suspected it before, it’s becoming more clear that Taehyung isn’t from Pluto, and seems to have extensive knowledge of life on a space vessel. Though all vessels start at a planet port, they spend the majority of their time between planets, where there technically aren’t any legally binding rules, or laws at all. Or at least, none established by a certain territory.This meant that there had to be a whole code, or law, made entirely for this context. It’s not all that different to regular law, with a few additions. One such addition is the significance of objects as a token of loyalty or agreement. 

Once you’ve given someone something as a representation of a promise, it’s a gross blot on your character if you then go back on your word. It would be detrimental to show an untrustworthy streak, no matter your alliance. Despite their loyalties, a broken promise would not go down well with his crew members. 

By making the Captain swear his loyalty, Taehyung was ensuring that he had the highest bargaining chip possible, as since his position was established democratically, with the crew voting who to give the Captaincy to, they could also choose to take it away.

There’s no way that they can somehow get out of the deal now, if the agreement is sealed by a token of trust. The fact that Taehyung is clearly aware of these customs is almost impressive. Almost. The fact that he’s also a tyrant with no filter and an attitude problem that rivals his own is a big factor that makes Jeongguk reluctant to give him any credit.

The hand on his shoulder disappears then, trailing across one shoulder and landing on the other, as Taehyung walks around so he’s standing in front of Jeongguk, gun dropping slightly so it’s aimed at the Captain’s chest now. Jeongguk continues to look straight forward. He wonders if Kim Taehyung can feel his heartbeat now, through the barrel of the gun, or if he was making it up in the first place.  

Finally, he’s able to look Taehyung in the eye, though he kind of wishes he hadn’t, because he’s reminded that, oh yeah, he looks like that .

The golden skin he’d gotten used to seeing wrapped around his own chest, really does look better pressed over someone’s entire body, and Taehyung is practically glowing where he stands despite the lack of sun, a combination of amusement and arrogance that must come so naturally to him. Except Jeongguk is not about to develop the most short term stockholm syndrome to ever exist just because some guy looks good with a gun in his hand. Jeongguk’s gun, that is.

And then it's gone, tucked underneath Taehyung’s coat as if it was never there in the first place.

In his peripheral he can see Yoongi’s hands instinctively going to his belt, knowing that it’d be so easy to stab Taehyung in the back, possibly literally, now that he’s exposed and vulnerable, but a small, almost unnoticeable shake of the head by Jeongguk stops him in his tracks. 

Really, Jeongguk can’t explain why he does that, why he doesn’t let Yoongi take him out, and end this experience finally, without needing to have Taehyung join his crew after all. But there’s something about it that doesn’t sit well with him. He doesn’t owe anything to a man that had spent the past ten minutes holding Jeongguk’s own gun to his head, but he also can’t think of anything more cowardly than attacking a man when his back is turned.

Later Jeongguk will go on some bullshit rant about integrity and keeping your word, to which Yoongi will roll his eyes and bring up the last game of Uno they’d played together. Really, Yoongi should have known that all sense of loyalty and integrity goes out of the window when it comes to Uno.

Jeongguk can’t say he really knows what’s going on when the hand falls from his shoulder, and grabs one of Jeongguk’s hands that are clasped in a fist by his side. He holds Jeongguk’s hand up, so Jeongguk is kneeling with one arm in the air, and peers closely at it, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

When Jeongguk feels a thumb swiping across his knuckles, travelling across divots and the rings that adorn his fingers, he realises that it’s the jewellery that Taehyung is interested in. Jeongguk is mildly irritated at the idea of having to give some of his jewellery away, only because it’s Taehyung that will get to keep it.

And then his hand is dropped, and Taehyung’s gaze falls on Jeongguk’s chest. It’s covered by material, but Jeongguk already knows what he wants.

His heart drops. 

“What did I tell you, Jeon. I’m always paying attention,” Taehyung says, seeing Jeongguk’s sour expression. “Don’t worry, Captain, it’s just a loan until I feel like I can trust you guys. You’ll get it back eventually.”

He scowls.

“Isn’t there anything else? You could have-” Yoongi starts to say, but he cuts himself off when Jeongguk shrugs his coat off, opens his jacket, and unpins what Taehyung is looking for. His hands are shaking from the sudden cold, and something else. 

He holds it out in his palm, though clearly Taehyung isn’t satisfied with his presentation, forcing Jeongguk to look up by tapping underneath his chin so he tilts his head up. It’s not harsh, just a small knick, like the ones Yoongi would give him when he got a bit too mouthy when it was just the two of them, but Jeongguk still hisses at the contact. 

The Captain’s badge is made of pure gold, glitters like it too, but it isn’t the material that makes it worth something. It’s a status symbol, a sign of power, and even if the roles on board wouldn’t technically change, just the presence of the badge says a lot more about you than words can.

“A proposal? But we only just met!”

When Taehyung pins the badge to his shirt, Jeongguk has to look away. 

He sways slightly when he stands, unintentionally grabbing the closest thing to support himself before he topples over. Unfortunately for him, said thing is Kim Taehyung, who catches him easily enough, looking away from his new favourite accessory just in time to see a body lurching towards him. He braces his arms, his hands secure on Jeongguk’s hips, while Jeongguk himself steadies himself by gripping onto Taehyung’s shoulders. Not this again. 

Taehyung raises an eyebrow.

“Space sick, Jeon?” Taehyung asks lightly. 

Jeongguk practically growls at him in response, pushing him away with a disgusted look.

He’s still muttering darkly as he makes his way over to Yoongi, the tension in the older man’s body visibly disappearing when he’s able to get his hands on Jeongguk. It’s only when he’s confirmed that he’s still in one piece, and inspected the cut on his face that he lets the Captain go again. He keeps an arm around his shoulder all the same, still eyeing Taehyung with apprehension. He’s gaze sweeps across Taehyung’s face again, still confused by the fact that the man in front of him looks so familiar.  

Taehyung just stands there, smiling like he hadn’t done anything wrong, and then suddenly, his whole face lights up.

It’s a change from the teasing smile that Jeongguk is used to seeing, grin taking up his whole face, crinkles forming by his eyes. It’s less harsh, more childlike, and Jeongguk looks down when he feels his chest immediately tighten. The oxygen level on Pluto is usually well regulated, so he doesn’t know what that’s about. He looks around at the rest of the crew, wondering if anyone else is suddenly having trouble breathing, but no one seems to be struggling in the same way. 

He’s never been spacesick before, but there’s a first time for everything.

Curious about what could be making Taehyung smile so much, Jeongguk follows his line of sight, until it falls on a familiar face. Park Jimin. When he reaches the group, he comes to a stop next to Yoongi and Jeongguk, an exasperated expression on his face when he addresses their newest addition to the crew. 

He doesn’t look impressed, arms folded across his chest, and even though he’s smaller than the man he’s alring at, he looks kind of scary with his eyebrows knitted together, jaw clenched more tightly than usual.

“Kim Taehyung,” He says, sounding shockingly calm, while Jeongguk feels his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’ve been here five minutes, and you’ve already tried to murder our Captain.”

Despite his words, there doesn’t seem to be any real animosity between the two. Jimin’s body is relaxed, clearly unthreatened by Taehyung, but Jeongguk still doesn’t like the fact that the latter still has Jeongguk’s laser on his person. As far as he knows, Jimin isn’t carrying anything. Yoongi and Hoseok seem to have the same thought, exchanging a look, before pulling their lasers back out again. Not aiming them, but making them easier to access should they need to intervene.

“You know me,” Taehyung says, taking a step closer to Jimin, who does the same. “I wanted to make a good first impression.”

Jimin scoffs at that, finally dropping his arms, before reaching up towards Taehyung’s face. Jeongguk holds his breath, ready to step between them if Taehyung tries anything, but he finds that he’s frozen when Jimin pauses, hand inches from Taehyung’s face, before grabbing Taehyung’s right ear and twisting it.

Taehyung whines as Jimin uses his grip to spin him around, until the two of them are facing the Captain and the rest of the crew. 

Jeongguk exchanges a confused glance with Yoongi, who just shrugs.

“Idiot,” Jimin mutters, though Jeongguk doesn’t miss how he gently rubs at the red skin of Taehyung’s ear before moving his hand away. He sighs, shaking his head at the man next to him, who nurses his ear with a pout. 

Suddenly, Taehyung doesn’t look even a fraction like the man that had held him at laser-point, intimidating eyebrows no longer raises mockingly, and now tied together as he frowns sadly, clearly feeling sorry for himself. Meanwhile, Jimin sighs, taking in the sea of confusion and panic being directed towards him. He raises an eyebrow when he finally looks at Jeongguk properly, noticing the dried blood on his face. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jimin asks, and Jeongguk gawps at him. 

This has to be a joke. Jimin is standing centimetres away from a man that had just tried to kill him, and then extorted him, and he’s asking Jeongguk what he’s done. 

“I told him he’d need it bandaged,” Taehyung says casually, boredly kicking the end of one boot with the heel of the other.

“Again, what do you know about medicine?” Jeongguk snaps, turning on Taehyung suddenly, feeling more brave now that Taehyung is further away from him. Even though he doesn’t understand how he and Jimin know each other, he has a feeling that Taehyung wouldn’t try anything now, now if Jimin could end up as collateral damage. 

The other man looks up, but instead of being caught off guard, he seems pleased to have gotten this reaction. 

“Clearly, I can’t trust you to have my wellbeing at the forefront of your mind,” 

And then Taehyung laughs, so hard that he throws his whole body back. Jimin smiles sheepishly, hand scratching at the back of his neck as he tries to avoid eye contact with Jeongguk.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Jeon. Your wellbeing is my number one priority,” Taehyung replies seriously, and Jeongguk just scoffs. 

Jeongguk decides that it’s best to just ignore him.

“Jimin, what exactly is going on?” Jeongguk asks, trying to ignore the headache that he can feel starting to creep in. “How do you know this...” 

He struggles to find the words to describe him. In the end he just waves his hands in Taehyung’s direction, the man still chuckling to himself. Jimin places a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and Jeongguk narrows his eyes at the hand, how it rests on the fabric of Taehyung’s coat so casually, and hethen moves his glare to Taehyung’s face.

To his right, Yoongi, who had been seemingly lost in thought for a few moments, staring intently at the stranger in front of him, suddenly curses. It draws Jeongguk’s attention to the older man, who finally puts his laser away. Jeongguk is confused as to why he longer seems to see any threat in the current situation, as if anything, there’s more danger in the way that Taehyung had laughed almost manically. 

“You might want to rethink what you were saying about this guy’s medical knowledge,” Yoongi says dryly, and Taehyung’s face lights up at that, almost preening at the compliment. 

“I have proof of my credentials if you want them, Captain,” Taehyung says, voice dripping with an innocence that Jeongguk knows full well doesn’t fit him. 

The latter doesn’t respond, but Taehyung slightly unzips his coat, bringing out an ID card. It’s not dissimilar to the one that the crew members carry, identifying themselves as a member of Euphoria. Not all professions have the need to carry about such identification, but those who have specialist jobs that require access to usually off bounds areas, or have certain credentials, are often equipped with a proof of occupation. The one in Taehyung’s hand is red, as opposed to Euphoria’s yellow, and Jeongguk struggles to conceal his surprise, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. 

Begrudgingly, he takes the card from Taehyung when he hands it to him. 

“How do you have one of these?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, narrowing his eyes first at the card in his hand, and then the person in question.

Taehyung shrugs, casual when he responds.

“It was pretty easy, actually. It only took five years of college, two years of training, three years of residency, and countless unpaid internships and volunteering hours.” 

Jeongguk shakes his head in disbelief. He tilts the card slightly, seeing the holographic stamp shift in the light, showing that the ID is as legitimate as they come. 

“I guess he has heard of an internship then,” Hoseok points out unhelpfully, falling silent when Jeongguk glares at him. 

Taehyung just nods, a pleased grin on his face when he steps forward, snatching the card back from Jeongguk’s hands before he can study it any closer. How is it possible that Kim Taehyung, the same man that had just held him at gunpoint and threatened to kill him, had managed to get himself a medical license?

“And to answer your other question, I’d say I know quite a bit about medicine.” 

“Alright, leave the kid alone,” Jimin interrupts. “I think he gets it.”

Jeongguk most certainly doesn’t get it. He meets Taehyung’s eye, the only one who seems to notice that Jeongguk still seems completely in the dark about the situation. He relishes the confusion, eyes glinting as he stares. 

“I guess everyone already knows him, since this one can’t help but make a scene wherever he goes,” Jimin continues, gesturing to Taehyung, who doesn’t look away from Jeongguk. Come on, you’re almost there. “This is Taehyung, my childhood best friend.”

Jeongguk’s entire face scrunches up in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting that, and it takes a second for him to process what that really means. Realisation sets in at the same as the horror that floods through his body. Surely, this must be some sort of a joke.

“Taehyung is Euphoria’s new medic.”

Jimin has the nerve to look sheepish.

At that moment, Jeongguk has many thoughts. A lot that he can’t repeat, a lot that can’t be translated, but that’s mostly because the feeling of panic, the sound of alarm bells, is hard to put into words, as everything feels like it’s been tipped upside down. 

Kim Taehyung is going to be responsible for his wellbeing.

This can’t end well.

~

Jeongguk hates this. 

Getting through the spaceport is relatively painless.Jeongguk feels his muscles relax a little when he sees Euphoria, hovering above the platform, sighing a breath of relief when he steps on board and finally feels like he’s home. Because, to him, that’s what Euphoria is.

Jeongguk had known from the beginning that Euphoria was the ship that he was meant to be Captain of, and even from the start, he was determined to make that a reality. All stories start with a beginning, and Jeongguk’s looks like endless corridors to sweep, hands raw from gripping a mop for 8 hours a day, being ignored by the higher members of the crew, the self proclaimed proper members, who never gave him a second glance. It was all worth it though, for the times he would sneak into the control room on the nights that the navigator’s assistant, Kim Namjoon, was the only one on duty. Sometimes, Jeongguk would stand at the helm of the ship, hold the controls in his hands - with Namjoon’s watchful eye - and imagine what it would be like to do this forever. Years later, he learns.

Jeongguk has never felt homesick, never felt the urge to go back to the place that he’d tried his whole life to escape, but he thinks this must be close to it; The familiar thud when his feet hit the decking, the calm hum underfoot. 

He’s about to carry on walking when he feels something digging into his side, and when he looks over, Yoongi is giving him a pointed look, gesturing behind them. Jeongguk follows the pointing of his finger, and scowls. 

Jeongguk had agreed to move the conversation onto Euphoria after a tense attempt to work out whether Taehyung would still be allowed to join the crew, despite the stunt he pulled, had ended in a stalemate. Jeongguk and Yoongi had voted no, Jimin and Taehyung yes - though really, he shouldn’t have had a vote, anyway - and Hoseok had cited difficulty in making a decision, due to lack of evidence. 

(“Open your coat,” Jeongguk demands, making Taehyung snort.

“Bit forward, don’t you think?”

But he does it anyway, smirking at the way Jeongguk glowers seeing the Euphoria emblem on his chest. He’s surprised when Jeongguk comes up close to him, but still, he’s relaxed when Jeongguk’s hands dig brush against his sides, touch light, before Jeongguk spins around again, this time with his laser gun in his hand. 

It’s still warm from when Taehyung had become trigger happy a few moments before, and Jeongguk walks back to Hoseok, forcing him to take it in his hands. 

“There’s your evidence.”)

Jeongguk had reluctantly agreed to move the exchange onto the ship, only so that Namjoon and Seokjin could be involved in the conversation too. Still, he wasn’t happy about it, and it was up to him, Taehyung would be staying as far away from Euphoria as possible. Which is why Yoongi’s silent suggestion is the last action he wants to be taking right now, making him pull a face.

Looking behind them, he sees that Taehyung and Jimin are approaching the ship, arm in arm, and chattering non stop, like they had been the whole journey. He and Yoongi both know that Jimin wouldn’t have a problem breaching the gap between the platform and the ship, had done so a hundred times, and it soon becomes clear that Yoongi is motioning for him to help Taehyung up. He’s about to argue, an excuse on the tip of his tongue, but he pushes it back down when he sees how exhausted Yoongi looks. The last thing he expected to deal with today was an attempted hostage of their captain, and his best friend, and Jeongguk sighs, letting it go. For Yoongi’s sake, he’ll play nice.

He hates the thought of Taehyung on Euphoria. It’s petty, he knows, but if the ship is his home, Taehyung is a stranger on the doorstep, and Jeongguk doesn’t want to let him. Even looking like he does, the flowers in Taehyung’s hands turn not to dust, but to gunpowder when he steps over the threshold, and Jeongguk can’t help but think that Taehyung stepping onto Euphoria, is the beginning of the end.

He steps to the edge of the ship, scowl already set on Taehyung, ready to call out for the pair to hurry up. Before he can, he notices that the man isn’t even looking at him. Taehyung is always paying attention, until he isn’t.

Taehyung’s beginning looks like this. 

It looks almost childlike wonder, wide eyes, head moving side to side, so he doesn’t miss anything. Taehyung looks at Euphoria like he’s never seen a spaceship like this before, and Jeongguk belatedly realises that he probably hasn’t. 

Next to him, Yoongi steps forward and opens his mouth to shout, ready to interrupt, but Jeongguk finds himself holding his hand out to stop him, shaking his head. His first mate doesn’t push for an explanation, but he does give Jeongguk a strange look, before following his line of sight to their potential new medic. 

Ah . So that’s what this is about. 

Jimin had mentioned that his friend hadn’t been on a spacecraft before, had never flown anywhere before, and by extension wouldn’t have seen a ship of this scale before now. Jeongguk can’t imagine going so long without getting a taste of this, had known since he was a kid that he wanted to live his life as close to the stars as he could get, even if he didn’t know how to make that a possibility. Watching Taehyung take it in a fraction of it for the first time, craning his neck to see more of Euphoria when they start getting closer, Jeongguk feels a tug of pride for his ship. And something else. 

Jeongguk looks at Taehyung and see’s the beginning of an end, flowers wilted, and Taehyung looks at him, see’s a means to an end, thorns poisoned, but neither of them realise that some things don’t have to be beautiful or painless, it’s enough for them to just bloom.

Jeongguk hates the thought of Taehyung on Euphoria, but he thinks he hates this a little more - the feeling of familiarity he gets, the empathy he feels, watching Taehyung have a beginning. He feels like he shouldn’t be looking, dragging his gaze away, and landing on Jimin, who’s looking up at him knowingly, like he knows exactly what Jeongguk is thinking.

He clears his throat, schooling his face into a bored look, and holding his hand out when the pair reach the edge of the platform.

Taehyung looks surprised at the offering, then amused, and Jeongguk waits for the inevitable snarky comment, braces himself to feel Taehyung’s skin against his, and hopes that he won’t flinch from the touch. It never comes, because one second, Taehyung is looking up at Jeongguk, and the next he’s right in front of him, landing so close that Jeongguk is forced to take a step back, narrowly avoiding stepping on Yoongi’s toes. 

“Thanks, anyway,” Taehyung says after ignoring the help offered to him, and Jeongguk has to fight the urge to push Taehyung backwards and over the edge when he reaches up a hand and ruffles his hair, before pushing past Jeongguk, forcing the captain to turn his body suddenly to the side so Taehyung doesn’t collide with him.

Jeongguk blinks and he’s back in the alleyway, slamming his shoulder against a stranger who refuses to not be seen, and something tells him that he should’ve known from then, that some people get under your skin, and decide to stay there. He had no idea what hit him then, not literally, not figuratively, but watching Taehyung walk away, Jeongguk has a feeling he never will.

There’s a thud behind him, Jimin following suit and embarking onto Euphoria, and he claps Jeongguk hard on the back when he goes past, this time making him actually tumble into Yoongi. Jimin getting an accomplice wasn’t going to end well for him.

“Watch it, kid,” Yoongi snaps, though there’s no malice there, despite the fact that he whacks Jeongguk on the chest when he goes past, leaving Jeongguk behind to splutter, before running to catch up.

The main foyer of Euphoria is fairly quiet when they get there, though there are a few groups of people scattered around, some sitting in the lounge area, others talking as they walk through to get somewhere else. 

When the ship is docked, there isn’t a lot to do, since they aren’t flying anywhere, and the cargo doesn’t need to be offloaded until they reach their destination planet. Most people take their time docked as a well needed break, taking the opportunity to stretch their legs, or have some down time before things got hectic again in a few days. 

Those that are in the foyer fall quiet when the group enter, before hushed conversations start up again. It’s partly due to the presence of the Captain that they keep their voices low, but Jeongguk can imagine it also has something to do with the unfamiliar face amongst them. Despite wearing the same uniform as everyone else, Taehyung stands out, and Jeongguk doesn’t want to think too hard about the reasons behind that, or why he understands them. 

See, they had known they were getting a new medic, they’d all said goodbye to Sujin when he’d left, but they hadn’t known that he would be like this. Or more so, would look like this. 

Jeongguk is relieved when he spots two figures heading towards them, since he’d rather not search the whole ship for Seokjin and Namjoon, while having every person they encounter gawp at Taehyung. Seokjin immediately zeroes in on the blood on Jeongguk’s face, concern covering the curiosity on his face, but he doesn’t say anything when Jeongguk shoots him a look. Not now. 

“So, this is our new crew member,” Namjoon comments, once the pair reach the group of four, and he reaches out to shake Taehyung’s hand. He frowns when he feels Jeongguk’s heavy scowl directed towards him, faltering when the captain steps in the way before Taehyung can accept the gesture. 

He knows he’s being childish, and later he’ll apologise to Namjoon for it, but for now, he can’t help himself. Namjoon looks between the two, Jeongguk with his face sterns, arms folded across his body and Taehyung rolling his eyes at his behaviour, and then his eyes land on Jeongguk’s captain badge on Taehyung’s chest. His eyebrows raise in surprise, recognition appearing on his face. He scratches his neck awkwardly, looking around, before motioning for Jeongguk to come closer to him.

“Uh, Jeongguk?” Namjoon asks carefully, talking lowly so the rest of the crew that are gawking can’t hear him. “If you’re intending to bring a friend on board when we stop off, could you let us know in the future?”

It takes a second for Jeongguk to understand the implication behind his words, but when he does, his face twists. God, no .

Taehyung laughs, while Jeongguk just looks horrified. It wasn’t uncommon for people to bring company on board, especially captains, since no one could argue against them, that wasn’t Jeongguk. And it certainly wasn’t Jeongguk and Taehyung.

He tries to stay calm, aware of the eyes watching him, but clearly, Taehyung has other ideas, throwing his gunpowder all over the situation.

“Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong,” Taehyung says with a smirk. “I had your Captain on his knees for me. ”

Jesus Christ. Namjoon looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up, and Jeongguk can’t help but agree, because Taehyung has no concept of talking quietly. Though, Jeongguk figures by the smirk on Taehyung’s face when the whispers grow louder, that Taehyung knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Jeongguk grits out, raising his voice slightly, causing the chatter to die down. “He’s not my...” He struggles to even say the word.

“ Friend? ” Taehyung intejects, faux innocence dripping from his voice.

Jeongguk almost gags at the thought

“Taehyung is the new medic.” Namjoon flushes, turning towards Taehyung to apologise, but Jeongguk continues before any words can be exchanged. “This is also the man who held me at gunpoint, and tried to kill me.”

Namjoon shuts his mouth abruptly. There’s a pregnant pause, as the rest of the crew falls silent, holding their breath. Some of them eye Taehyung with suspicion, while others seem more interested than before, curious how his man was still allowed to stand so close to Jeongguk, if that were the case. Jeongguk was a fair Captain, but there were certain things that were surely dealbreakers. 

“Okay…” Seokjin eventually says, looking between the two in confusion. Taehyung just shrugs his shoulders, and for a man who just attempted to murder his future boss, he doesn’t seem particularly fazed. Usually, people at least start their jobs before fantasising about doing that.  “Did you deserve it, though?”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Taehyung laughs again, and the crew starts up. And clearly, this wasn’t that place to say it. 

With a grunt, Jeongguk puts his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and starts pushing him out of the foyer. He’s probably rougher than he needs to be, but Taehyung seems to find his annoyance amusing more than anything, initially dragging his feet, before walking willingly. Jeongguk can’t bring himself to take Taehyung all the way to his office, not wanting to be alone with him for that long, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he spots one of their meeting rooms, pushing the door so aggressively, that it hits the wall when it flies open.

“Do I even want to follow them in there?” Namjoon asks, confused when Jimin lightly hits him in the temple, before setting off to follow behind the pair. 

He’s not convinced that Jeongguk won’t try and throw Taehyung overboard if left alone for more than five minutes. Even if their windows don’t open, and his friend would be falling into concrete, not comets, Jimin figures that if anyone can do it, it’ll be Jeongguk. 

It’s not long before the same group from a few weeks ago is congregated once again, but this time the topic of conversation is with them, seemingly unbothered by the apprehensive looks being thrown in his direction. It’s safe to say that their new medic certainly wasn’t what they were expecting.

When the door falls shut behind the last person, Jeongguk takes a brief pause to collect himself. He’s going to be professional about this. 

“There is absolutely no way that he is becoming our new medic.”

He tried.

It doesn’t take long to update Seokjin and Namjoon on what had happened, though Jeongguk makes a point to leave out the part where he and Taehyung had met before the hostage attempt had taken place, not quite sure that he wants to admit his own failings in the situation. If Taehyung notices, he doesn’t seem to care, answering the questions directed at him calmly, until the crew are fully up to date.

“What about the reason you’re in that state?” Seokjin asks Jeongguk, who is offended for a second, before remembering that his face probably looks a bit of a state.

The cut is no longer bleeding, but covered in dried blood, and Jeongguk feels Taehyung’s handkerchief burning a hole in Jeongguk’s pocket, a fragment of the story that he for some reason wants to keep to himself. Well, really, he knows the reason. 

Taehyung is already looking at him when Jeongguk looks at him, but he doesn’t seem in a rush to explain anything either.

“I tripped,” Jeongguk eventually says, laughing weakly at the abuse he gets in response. He avoids Yoongi’s suspicious gaze, looking away before the guilt can appear on his face, and when he looks at Taehyung again, he’s got his lips pursed, but keeps his mouth shut.

It makes him uneasy to feel like he owes Taehyung, even the slightest bit, and it feels worse to be keeping things from his crew members. Especially Yoongi, who is the only one that seems just as concerned as Jeongguk is about Taehyung’s presence on the ship, and his enrollment into the crew.

“I promise you can trust him,” Jimin argues, moving on the conversation, and Jeongguk almost laughs in disbelief. 

He can’t help but wonder what exactly was so special about Kim Taehyung that made Jimin so fiercely loyal towards him. Jimin had said that they’d met on holiday, had stayed in touch since, but Jeongguk can’t imagine ever getting close enough to someone in two weeks, to defend them the way Jimin defends Taehyung. 

“Are we missing the part when he tried to kill me?” 

“You’re still hung up on that?”

Jeongguk thinks he must be losing his mind.

“It literally just happened!”

“I don’t get it,” Hoseok joins in, turning to Taehyung. “If you already had a place on Euphoria, why did you use Jeongguk as a bargaining chip to get in? Why did you hold him hostage at all?”

He’s got a point. Taehyung’s request for the release of his hostage was to have a place in the crew of Euphoria, but he already had a position there already, making the request redundant. If anything, he had put himself in a worse position, as holding your new boss hostage and threatening his life, probably isn’t the best way to introduce yourself. Although, supposedly it’s best to start as you mean to carry on. Jeongguk shudders at the thought of what carrying on must mean in this context.

“Figured it would give me some extra job security,” Taehyung jokes. “You know, if I get hired twice.”

It’s such a stupid reasoning, that it’s almost believable.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Yoongi says eventually, from his position leaning against the wall. He’s addressing them all, but his gaze is directed at Taehyung, who stares back, seemingly unbothered. 

Jeongguk will admit that he’s almost impressed that the man doesn’t immediately look away, standing his ground, even when Yoongi narrows his eyes at him. There are only a few times that Yoongi has been mad at Jeongguk, all of them being instances where the younger had done something reckless without thinking, but it wasn’t something that he ever wanted to experience. Yoongi is scary when he’s angry, scarier when he’s disappointed. 

“I don’t trust him.”

But he’s the scariest when he’s protective.

Taehyung doesn’t look offended, really, it’d be hypocritical if he was, but Jimin next to him clearly is. Jeongguk almost feels bad for him, knowing how hard he had worked to get them to give Taehyung a chance in the first place.

“He wouldn’t have actually done anything to Jeongguk,” Jimin reassures them, looking at Taehyung and motioning for him to confirm the statement. 

Taehyung hesitates a second too long, and Yoongi throws his hands in the air - ‘you see!’

“To be fair, attempted murder doesn’t technically breach our code of conduct,” Namjoon points out, thoughtfully. He looks pointedly at Jeongguk.

“Oh, my bad,” Jeongguk replies sarcastically. “I just didn’t think it was necessary to add a clause about how murdering your fellow crew member is a big no, no. ”

“Yet, you have one banning non-biodegradable makeup wipes, ” Jimin says under his breath.

Jeongguk presses his lips together. Excuse him for trying to make the crew of Euphoria more environmentally conscious. Afterall, if everything they eject for the shuttle goes into the Universe, they need to be aware of exactly what they’re contributing to it. 

“To be fair, they are really bad for the universe’s ecosystem,” Taehyung points out, and Jeongguk finds himself nodding, before realising who he’s agreeing with.

“As much as I care about the environment too, can we get back on track,” Yoongi interjects. “My role as first mate is to make sure the decisions we make are in the best interests of the Captain and crew,” Jimin opens his mouth to argue. “And above that, my role as a brother is to protect Jeongguk no matter what.”

Jimin’s expression softens at that.

“I get that, you know I’d rather die than let anything happen to Jeongguk,” He does know, really they all know. It just never has to be said. “But Taehyung is family too.”

For the first time, Jeongguk feels unsure, and even Yoongi looks taken aback, whatever reply he had disappearing from his mouth. The word hangs in the air in front of them - family . Jeongguk knows alot about losing blood, but he knows a little more about choosing it. He watches family slip through his fingers, falling to the floor and smashing into pieces, but it isn’t until he’s a little older that blood turns to grease on a hotwired vehicle, sweat from loading cargo, powder no one talks about outloud. There’s a gap in Jeongguk’s view of family, a stilt in the conversation that no one thought to have with him, even if he desperately needed it. He looks at the group around him, the new definition, and doesn’t know what to say.

“Taehyung,” Jimin says suddenly. “Apologise to Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. He’s been through this already, and he can already tell this attempt isn’t going to go much better, when the guilty party looks less than impressed. He sighs when Jimin looks at him desperately, hard expression melting a little. Jeongguk has a feeling that he’s not the only one who had to redefine family. 

Turning to the Captain properly now, instead of addressing the whole group, Taehyung’s gaze feels heavy now that it’s solely focused on him. Jeongguk doesn’t falter under the weight of it, and Taehyung seems to like that, a small smile playing on his lips, before it’s gone again.

“I apologise for holding you hostage and threatening your life,” Taehyung says, sounding the furthest from sorry that he could possibly be. His tone makes Jimin elbow him in the side. “I’m truly sorry. ”

Jeongguk doesn’t buy it for a second, but he supposes it’s about as good as he’s going to get. Taehyung doesn’t seem like the type for heart to hearts, a permanent smirk on his face, and Jeongguk for one would rather accept the shoddy attempt at an apology, instead of prolonging the conversation. 

There is one thing bothering him, though.

“You’re sorry…” Jeongguk starts expectantly, waving his hand for Taehyung to continue.

Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, understanding straight away what Jeongguk wants to hear. Usually, he hates doing this, cringes at the very idea of coming across as one of the pompous idiots that he’d had to suck up to when working his way up to where he is now - “ That’s Captain to you ,” they’d say, while Jeongguk thought of every other word he could put in its place. Jeongguk learnt respect in the nightimes - sitting on the sidewalk at sixteen, hands on the steering wheel at nineteen - and more than that, he learnt that to have it, is to earn it. 

The word doesn’t mean anything, not by itself, but Jeongguk still wants to hear Taehyung say it. He may wear the title on his chest, but Jeongguk has met plenty of people who did the same without knowing the first thing about what it meant to be one.

“I’m sorry, Captain ,” Taehyung grits out, and Jeongguk nods in satisfaction. That’s better. 

“Just trust me on this one,” Jimin says, an echo of the words he had said when he’d first convinced Jeongguk to give Taehyung a chance.

He looks at Taehyung, the other man meeting his eye with a confidence that never seems to run out. In any other context, Jeongguk would find it admirable, the way the other man carries himself like he holds the whole Universe. Now, all it does is irritate him, makes him feel trapped between the palms of a man that he doesn’t even know.

“I don’t like you.” Taehyung nods.

“Okay.”

“And I don’t trust you.” Taehyung shrugs.

“Understandable.”

“But I’m going to give you a chance. Don’t blow it.” Taehyung smiles.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Seeing Jeongguk's face, Taehyung laughs. He looks confused, glancing around to see if anyone else had understood what Taehyung had just said. They look just as lost, and he frowns. Had he just been insulted?

“You know, pirates?” Taehyung is met with identical blank stares. He shakes his head, seemingly disappointed. “I have so much to teach you guys.”

Jeongguk shivers at the thought.

“Okay, well before any of that happens, why don’t we get that sorted?” Yoongi interrupts, nodding towards Jeongguk, who pales a little, when he realises that Taehyung is the one that’s going to have to fix him up.

“Surely, there’s someone else,” Jeongguk says, half-heartedly, knowing that no one else is going to take pity on him and clean him up. 

When he was younger it had been Yoongi, armed with a first aid kit, patching him up with all the grace of a man woken up at 1 in the morning, but he doubts that he’s going to get any such treatment now. He’d take Yoongi, cheap antiseptic wipe in one hand, beer bottle in another, over Taehyung, well equipped and sober. Even if technically he’d given Taehyung the green light, he’d rather limit their interaction as much as possible. Especially today. 

“I’ll take anyone else.”

Taehyung makes a noise, sounding offended, but Jeongguk makes a point of not looking in his direction. Maybe if he pretends he isn’t there, Taehyung will just disappear into thin air.

“You’ll take anyone?” Seokjin asks, and Jeongguk nods. “Even Namjoon?” 

Jeongguk abruptly shuts his mouth. Never mind. 

“As I always say; Not feeling great? Just amputate.” Namjoon supplies cheerfully, making the rest of the room groan.

Taehyung starts to laugh, but he quickly cuts himself off when he realises that no one else seems to find it particularly funny. He trails off, ‘really?’, and the rest of the group just nod, some of them wincing. He’s silent, before his face lights up in sudden recognition, snapping his fingers as he remembers something.

“Are you the guy that almost cut off one of the crew members' ears when they came to you complaining of an earache?” He asks, and Namjoon shoots a look of betrayal in Jimin’s direction, who had obviously been the grass.

“I think it’d be a statement. Van Gogh style, you know?” 

Jeongguk will admit that he doesn't know a lot about fashion, and he can’t say he’s ever heard of the ‘Van Gogh’ trend, but he supposes that the culture where Taehyung is from must be more different to his own than he first thought. Taehyung has both ears, so Jeongguk supposes it wasn’t a trend that the medic had chosen to partake in.

Again, the crew look at him blankly, even Jimin no knowing what Taehyung is talking about, and for the first time, he seems to falter.

“Ah, sorry. I forget you guys won’t know Earth terms.”

Oh, right. Taehyung is from Earth.

It hadn’t really clicked until he’d said it, but really, it seems obvious now. It’s the little things that Taehyung had been saying all day that Jeongguk hadn’t recognised, the way he obviously wasn’t a native of Pluto with the tanned skin suggesting he was from a planet fairly close to the sun or some other star. Jimin had mentioned it before, it was one of the reasons it had seemed like such a good idea to hire Taehyung, but it’s only now that Jeongguk is able to connect the two characters. 

So, this is what Earthlings look like. He doesn’t want to think too hard about what exactly this means.

”Just let him do his job, Captain,” Seokjin says tiredly. When Jeongguk makes no move to head towards the infirmary, still eying Taehyung suspiciously, he sighs. “ Now , Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk bites his tongue, before motioning for Taehyung to follow him, muttering for the newest addition to Euphoria to follow him out. 

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Taehyung repeats, catching up quickly and walking next to him, so close that their shoulders brush.

Jeongguk’s eye twitches. 

This is going to be a long mission.

~

Located in the East wing of Euphoria, the ship’s infirmary isn’t the biggest, though really, it doesn’t have to be. Life on Euphoria isn’t necessarily a dangerous one.The job of the on-ship medic is more to treat non-life threatening illness or injury -sprains and fractures, unfortunate bouts of food poisoning, the type of thing that wouldn’t require particularly complex procedures, which is reflected in the resources they have. It’s just a few beds, a wall of cabinets, and a hallway leading to the medics office. 

Taehyung is quick to start searching for the equipment he needs from the cabinets across the far wall, gesturing for Jeongguk to take a seat on the edge of one of the beds while he does so. Jeongguk hesitates. 

Truth be told, Jeongguk doesn’t like the place. Luckily he’s never had to spend much time there. When Namjoon had been acting medic, he made a point to come every day, just to make sure nothing had gone seriously wrong, but other than that, his experience with the place was limited to having a few cuts and grazes cleaned, or to visit someone else. 

Still, to him, any time spent there is too much time. 

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for Taehyung to find what he needs, and then he’s back, items in the crook of his arm, damp towel in his hand. Jeongguk remains standing where he left him, and Taehyung throws the items - a bottle of something, cotton roll and bandages - on the bed behind him. He gestures again for Jeongguk to take a seat, sighing when he refuses to. 

“You’re worse than some of my kids.”

Taehyung says it fondly, and until that moment, Jeongguk had forgotten that Taehyung not only has a medical license, but is a paediatric doctor of all things, and the reminder makes him feel even more on edge. It’s a touch of dejavu, a callback to simplified explanations and attempts to soften the blow, but really, nothing insulates an explosion like that . 

Jeongguk figures it isn’t easy to do the job, to deal with children that don’t know how to explain how they feel, parents that don’t know what to do, and even more so, he can’t imagine the man in front of him to be able to do it. He can’t imagine Taehyung softening his voice into anything other than a sly whisper, being gentle with his touches except to lull you into a false sense of security. He doesn’t look dangerous now, with his hands on his hips, disappointed looking in his face, but looks can be deceiving. 

Taehyung proves that in every possible way. 

The halo effect says that we consider attractive people to be kinder, smarter, better just because of their appearance, and in that case it must work the other way around too. Bad people shouldn’t look as good as Kim Taehyung does. But then again, Jeongguk has a feeling that Kim Taehyung makes a point of breaking every rule that he can find.

“Listen Jeon, I know you don’t trust me much,” Jeongguk makes a face. “Or at all. But the sooner you let me do this, the sooner you can leave.”

A part of Jeongguk wants to continue being difficult, make Taehyung’s life harder just to be petty, but at the same time, the doctor has a point. The sooner this is taken care of, the sooner he can get out of here, and hopefully avoid Taehyung for the rest of the time period that he’s on the ship with them. 

Eventually, Jeongguk sits down, albeit with an annoyed huff, and Taehyung reaches for the towel slung over his arm. 

“Thank you,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk chooses not to acknowledge it, leaning back on his hands, and looking up at where Taehyung stands. “Chin up, Captain.” 

He seems pleased when Jeongguk follows his request without complaint, and while the towel he presses against the cut is cold against his skin, Taehyung is surprisingly gentle when he wipes away the dried blood.

The hand lightly holding Jeongguk’s jaw is a juxtaposition to the careless hands on the cocky stranger before, the fingers that had dug into his shoulder and held him in place, the harsh press against the cut when it had first happened. That person had moved like he didn’t care what nerves he stepped on, what bruises he left behind. 

He guesses he was wrong about Taehyung being softer with his movements. It’s a different type of relaxed, a different type of control. Because the stranger from before had Jeongguk on strings that he could pull and twist however he pleased to make Jeongguk dance, while the Taehyung of right now has steady hands that hold Jeongguk steady, suspended. But not trapped.

Taehyung is concentrating on the cut, and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to look at him for a second, trying to figure out why he’s suddenly acting like he cares about his well being. He gets that it was technically his job now, and even if he’d promised not to hurt Jeongguk, it’s not like he has to play nice when they’re the only two there.

When he moves away from Jeongguk, the latter finds his body stationary, the strings no longer taunt, but his eyes following Taehyung’s movements by choice. He isn’t really sure why.

“This will sting a little,” Taehyung warns him, picking up one of the bottles, shaking it, and uncapping it. Jeongguk can tell what it is, without it being explained. 

He hates the smell, hates the feeling. It reminds him of when he was a teenager, constantly in scraps that he had no business being involved in, fights he had no business starting, because back then it had made him feel something close to invincible, even if he had left the streets with his fists stinging. 

Jeongguk watches as Taehyungs pours the antiseptic onto the cotton wool, though he furrows his brow when Taehyung doesn’t immediately hold it against his skin. It’s not until the Captain confirms that he’s ready, with a stiff jut of his chin, that Taehyung moves forward, humming in sympathy when Jeongguk can’t help but wince at the slight burning sensation. 

“I know, just give it a second.”

So, Jeongguk gives it a second.

He takes it to think back to all the times he would come home and nurse his cuts himself until Yoongi had come into his life and taken over, how he had stood staring in the mirror above the sink, and not recognised the person looking back at him. Not because of the bruises kissing his cheekbones, but the stinging in his eyes, that he always blamed on the strong smell of antiseptic invading the tiny bathroom. And then it’d be gone, blinked away with the wipe of a towel, swept away with the gravel and the blood, and he’d forget that there are somethings that you can’t just scrub away by yourself. Not when you believe that there are stains under your skin, filth in your lungs, dirt in your blood, that you can never rid yourself of. 

“You’re doing well.”

Jeongguk gives himself another second, this time to look forward at the person in front of him.

Weirdly, Taehyung is more careful with Jeongguk than he ever was with himself, though really, back then, he didn’t know how to be gentle with himself, forgiving to himself, because he didn’t think he deserved it. He’d never given himself time to heal, rubbing too hard, just to make the pain more than skin deep, and that was just the way he thought things had to be done. Jeongguk guesses he must have learnt to be gentle in medical school, but it still seems out of place here. The same hands that held him at gunpoint, now just hold, and it’s strange. It’s strange that Taehyung treats Jeongguk like he deserves it.

Eventually, Jeongguk averts his eyes, not realising when a second turns into another, a look turns into a stare, eventually landing on the glimmer he spots from the corner of his eye. Jeongguk’s expression hardens, body tenses, and if Taehyung notices, he doesn’t mention it. Jeongguk’s Captain’s badge sits proudly on Taehyung’s chest, a reminder that, as gentle as Taehyung is right now, as gold as he is against white walls, he has as much dirt on him as Jeongguk. If opposites attract, Jeongguk and Taehyung are anything but - matching blemishes of character on clean exteriors, bad choices in bad circumstances, seeking confrontation just because it’s available.

“Shouldn’t you give that back, since you already had a place regardless of our agreement,” Jeongguk points out, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. 

Jeongguk grows out of picking fights for the sake of not drawing any more attention than is strictly necessary, towing the line to not get knocked off the tightrope.

“I don’t know, “ Taehyung says with a shrug. “I think it suits me.” 

But there’s something about Taehyung that makes it hard to not bite back. When they first meet, Taehyung knocks him off balance, and Jeongguk is starting to realise that it isn’t a coincidence that his head has been spinning since. 

Jeongguk contemplates biting Taehyung's finger, considers the logistics of such a move, but decides it probably isn’t worth it. After all, even if Taehyung is acting professionally right now, he’s also very close to Jeongguk’s face, with a chemical that probably wouldn’t do anything good if it got into his eyes. 

“How about we make another agreement?” Taehyung suggests, undeterred when he meets Jeongguk’s eye and sees that he’s already glaring at him. He pulls away, throwing the cotton roll away and picking up one of the bandages. “Unless, you don’t think you’ll win.”

If there’s anything worse than Jimin having an accomplice, it’s Jeongguk having an opponent. There’s no logical reason for him to get involved with a bet to get his own possession back, especially not something so important to him, but he’d never been good at trusting in logic. A challenge is a challenge, and Taehyung looks at him like he already knows that Jeongguk can’t help from accepting it. He likes to think he’s smart enough not to fall for it, not to let Taehyung pull the strings and manipulate the situation to get what he wants, whatever that may be.

“What do you suggest?” Jeongguk asks.

Never mind.

He watches as Taehyung unrolls the bandages in his hand, seemingly thinking hard about the question. Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, as Taehyung attempts to nudge Jeongguk’s legs open slightly, so he can stand between them. He clenches his fists when Taehyung pinches underneath his chin in response, before reluctantly making space for the medic, even if he doesn’t love the idea of having Taehyung so close to him, taking up so much of his personal space. Even in a professional environment, Jeongguk doesn’t trust Taehyung not to pull something.

“Well, I’ve noticed that for some reason you don’t seem like my biggest fan,” Taehyung continues, getting back to work. He ignores the face Jeongguk makes. “So let’s make a bet. If I manage to win you over before the end of this mission, I get to keep the badge. If you still can’t stand me when we get to Earth, you can have it back.”

Jeongguk shakes his head in disbelief. Or at least, he tries to, but Taehyung has a firm grip on the side of his face.

Surely, Taehyung should have at least chosen a bet that he had a chance of winning. The end of the mission isn’t that far away, and he can’t imagine that Taehyung will be able to change his mind by then. Though, there was no chance that Jeongguk would ever learn to do anything more than tolerate Taehyung’s presence, let alone enjoy his company, in any length of time. From Earth, they’ll be dispatched somewhere else, and he can forget that Kim Taehyung ever existed. 

“Don’t you think the odds are pretty heavily weighted towards me?” 

Still, it’s tempting. 

“Why don’t you want to be friends, Jeon?” He murmurs, concentrating on what he’s doing, and Jeongguk snorts.

“Don’t take this personally,” Jeongguk deadpans, in a way that suggests he very much wants Taehyung to take this personally. “But having a murder attempt against me under their belt isn’t exactly a trait I look for when seeking new friends.”

He’s close enough that he hears Taehyung mutter under his breath - “Rude.”

“And you do know I could just lie?” Jeongguk continues. “Even if by some miracle I can stand you at the end of this, I could just say that I don’t, just so I can get my badge back.” 

Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a little while, focusing on covering the cut on Jeongguk’s face, leaving the Captain to sit in silence, while the medic works methodically. 

It’s another second, a second too long, and Jeongguk feels it. Taehyung holds himself like all doctors do - calm, collected, and always in control - and if Jeongguk squints his eyes until everything becomes a while blur, inhales the smell of peroxide, he can go back.  

Even if the place is a more modest medical setting, it’s still fitted with the typical clinical signifiers that make Jeongguk uncomfortable to be around - the white walls, the crisp bed sheets, the feeling of being out of place amongst it all - a blot of colour, a crumple in the picture. Jeongguk has spent too much time hovering at bedsides, at the edge of uncomfortable plastic chairs, but it never stops feeling like somewhere you shouldn’t be. And white walls all look the same when your eyes are stinging, and doctors all sound the same when they’re telling you bad news - white walls then white noise then ‘ there’s nothing we can do, i’m sorry.’

“You’re allowed to breathe, Jeon,” Taehyung says gently, interrupting Jeongguk’s thoughts. 

Jeongguk hadn’t noticed he’d been holding his breath until Taehyung pointed it out. He exhales, breath coming out heavy, staring straight up towards the ceiling, so he doesn’t have to see the inevitable teasing smirk, the expected rolling of the eyes. He isn’t looking, so he doesn’t know that it isn’t there.

“I don’t think you could lie,” Taehyung says, filling the silence, but keeping his voice quiet enough that it doesn’t destroy it. Present but not destructive is something that Jeongguk never thought Kim Taehyung could be capable of, but he supposes there’s a first time for everything. “Your emotions are written all over your face.”

And then he’s stepping away, satisfied with his work. When he glances up, Taehyung is already looking at him, and Jeongguk isn’t stupid. He recognises that look, and he falters for a second, before standing up too, wincing when his neck aches from the angle he’d been standing at.

“When you first saw me,” Jeongguk flushes. He’d rather not think about it. “Did you think I was pretty, Jeon?”

Yes. That’s the short answer. Because Jeongguk sees this stranger, and all he sees is gold.

Jeongguk doesn’t know exactly what he expected people from Earth to look like, but he certainly hadn’t expected this . As much as he hates to admit it, he’d acknowledged right from the beginning that Taehyung was handsome in a way that he’d never seen before, and maybe it’s naive to think, but he’d heard so much about Earthlings being cautious, scared even, that the confidence in this man seems out of place.

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re trying to do but this,” Jeongguk says firmly, gesturing between the two of them. “This isn’t becoming a thing .”

Taehyung has the nerve to pout at that, and for some reason Jeongguk’s breath catches in his throat at the sight. Weird. Maybe, he was getting space sick like Taehyung had suggested.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung asks innocently, taking a step forward again, eyes lighting up when Jeongguk doesn’t take a step back.

“This. You trying to...” He squints. “Honestly, I’m not even sure what you’re trying to do, but you need to stop it. There are rules. Romantic relationships are strictly prohibited. So, no smuggling people in from whatever planet’s we dock at. I won’t hesitate to boot both you and them into the Milky Way.”

Taehyung grins, Jeongguk glares.

“What about romantic relationships with people already on the ship. Any rules about that?”

Jeongguk coughs, looking away immediately. Technically, there isn’t anything about that in the rules, and he curses himself for not thinking ahead. He never thought it would become a problem, especially not for him.

“Check the handbook,” Jeongguk says instead, and Taehyung takes it as a win. “So, are we done here?” 

His voice sounds too loud in the room. 

“Sure, Jeon.” Taehyung says eventually, stepping away. Jeongguk hadn’t realised how tight his chest had become, until there's space between them again. “Just try not to get into any trouble while your cut is healing.”

Jeongguk looks over to one of the mirrors in the room, taking in his appearance. The bandage isn’t inconspicuous by any means, the cut large enough that a good portion of his cheek needed to be covered, but it’s not as dramatic as he thought it would be. There’s no stinging eyes, no purple cheeks, but there is a haze of gold that he can’t seem to blink away.

“I don’t get into trouble,” Jeongguk says to his reflection, and while there’s nothing there, he can also see the words appearing around his head. Liar, liar, liar. 

“Why don’t I believe that?”

Maybe Taehyung can see them too.

“Let me rephrase,” Taehyung says, trouble personified, with a glint in his eye that makes Jeongguk nervous. “Try not to get into trouble...”

 Trouble. And then, something else. 

“Unless, you’re with me.”

~

The day they get the all clear to take off, Jeongguk feels like he can breathe again.

“It’s about time,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, both of them standing in the cockpit, preparing Euphoria for takeoff, and Jeongguk nods in agreement, just as eager to get going.

When he’d first set his sights on becoming Captain, hadn’t thought he'd ever be able to take off a ship, all by himself. While auto-pilot is a big part of space travel, and navigators usually keep up with general flying of the ship, it’s up to the Captain to take off and land spaceships, as well as coordinate the plan of action to make the process as seamless as possible. It’s a familiar feeling, a familiar process, and that’s how Jeongguk likes things to be. He likes the consistency, the routine, feeling like he’s in control of the situation. But sometimes he gets too in his head about it, too aware of the power he holds in that moment, and the pressure that comes with it. 

Jeongguk is certain about a lot of things, confident that he knows this ship like the back of his hand, but he’s not naive enough to think that things can’t go wrong. Or more likely, that he could do something wrong. Because as forgiving as Euphoria is, and as much as Jeongguk knows what he’s doing, there’s always that sliver of doubt. Standing at the helm of his ship, he should feel untouchable, but there’s that moment just before the countdown starts his hands resting on the steering, where he isn’t so sure. 

He’s momentarily distracted from checking and rechecking the time, when he hears the doors of the navigation pod slide open. The scowl that appears on his face is immediate.

Taehyung somehow manages to turn Euphoria upside down within a few days of being there. 

It was so secret that Jeongguk hadn’t warmed up to him at all since he’d joined the crew, making an active effort to ignore his presence as much as physically possible. He does his best to avoid Taehyung, which is harder than you’d think when the medics bedroom is located just a corridor away from the Captains own quarter. He guesses so medical assistance was close by if anything were to happen to him. 

For the most part, it’s not an issue. He spends the majority of his time in his office, but he can’t say he particularly enjoys the close proximity during the night. It’s just the two of them in that wing of the ship, and Jeongguk still expects to wake up in the middle of the night and find Taehyung standing over him, laser pointed at him once again.

To his annoyance, no one else seemed to have the same worry. In fact, Taehyung had managed to settle in well on Euphoria, all while making Jeongguk’s life a living nightmare, and it wasn’t long before Taehyung had wormed his way into their group. Jeongguk knows he’s being petty when he works through his lunch breaks just to avoid having to sit at the same table as Taehyung, but then again, he also doesn’t trust that his food won’t somehow end up getting poisoned if he leaves it unattended.

He feels uneasy that Taehyung is so close with his friends already, and he’s quick to figure out what exactly Taehyung knows about the goings on of Euphoria, pulling Jimin aside one morning before he starts his shift. He’s relieved when Jimin promises that he hadn’t told Taehyung anything about it, which takes some of the weight off his shoulders. 

It doesn’t take long for Jeongguk to realise that Taehyung cares a lot for technicalities, but not at all in the same way he does. While Jeongguk focuses on the details to do the best job possible, follows the rules because they exist for a reason, Taehyung uses loopholes and escape clauses to cause trouble, to get away with it.

See, technically , Taehyung isn’t late because he clocked in, before getting coffee and turning up to do this job half an hour later. And technically , he isn’t the one that set off the fire alarms, he just happened to be standing next to it when it short circuited. Though, he never really expanded on why exactly that one wasn’t his fault. 

“You don’t have authorisation to be in here,” Jeongguk says stiffly, jerking his chin towards Taehyung, who doesn’t seem phased by the hostile reaction to his arrival, probably used to it by now when it comes to Jeongguk.

He just shrugs.

“My pass worked at the entrance, so either I do have authorisation, or you need to up your security measures.”

And technically, Taehyung is allowed to be there, even if Jeongguk obviously doesn’t want him to be.

Jeongguk eyes widen, before he frowns. Holes in their security is the last thing they need right now, and if the wrong people are getting access to the wrong things, it isn’t going to end well for them. He’s already taking his phone out of his pocket, ready to call Hoseok and get him to figure out what’s happening, when his arm is pushed down again. 

“We’re fine,” Yoongi reassures him, and for a moment Jeongguk is about to protest, until he sees his first mate’s face. Calm, but with a hint of guilt. 

Jeongguk presses his lips together tightly.

“You gave him authorisation,” Yoongi nods. “And this was cleared by Hoseok?” He nods again. “And no one bothered to consult me,” A shrug. “Fantastic.”

“I’m here to do my job. Apparently, you can get grouchy before take off,” Taehyung interrupts, and Jeongguk’s attention is drawn back to the medic.

Jeongguk doesn’t get grouchy. He gets impatient. He hates the waiting beforehand, his hands itching to just pull the lever and get out of there, now that he knows they have clearance. It’s just a case of waiting their turn.

“I don’t get grouchy,” He adds defensively, meeting Yoongi’s eye, and telepathically asking his best friend to back him up. “Right, hyung?”

The reassurance doesn’t come.

“Remember just before we left Saturn and you threatened to eject Seokjin from the spaceship, just because he made a joke that you didn’t find funny?”

“No.”

Yoongi doesn’t buy it.

“I think you do. What do you call the first man on the moon?” Jeongguk’s right eye starts to twitch. 

Yoongi chooses not to finish that one, afraid that he’ll meet a similar fate to Seokjin, who ended up looking over his shoulder for at least a week, worrying that Jeongguk would pop up out of nowhere and make his threat a reality.

“Listen, you know I’m not his biggest fan either,” Taehyung pouts. “But just let him stay and keep an eye on you. We’re just trying to help.

Jeongguk knows that, because that’s all Yoongi ever tries to do; To help Jeongguk, even when he doesn’t ask, and even when he probably doesn’t deserve it. Especially then. 

“And you thought him, of all people, would help?” He asks incredulously. 

He just wishes that helping him didn't have to involve Kim Taehyung being in his close proximity. 

“I’m right here…” 

Jeongguk storms off, back to the navigation console.The medic eyes him carefully, noting how Jeongguk’s back is tense, but the rest of his body seems to sag. He meets Yoongi’s eye, the second is command shaking his head slightly, a silent warning to leave Jeongguk alone for a bit, knowing that sometimes the Captain just needs a little time to simmer by himself. And everyone knows that Taehyung is never one to see a simmer, and not turn it into a fire. 

Unsurprisingly, Taehyung ignores Yoongi’s advice. He surveys the situation from a distance when Taehyung moves to stand next to Jeongguk, peering down at the console to eye up the screens and buttons. The Captain freezes for a second, before glancing at the medic.

“Can I help you?” He says slowly, when Taehyung still doesn’t say anything. He shakes his head, miming  zipping his mouth closed.

It’s suspicious, but Jeongguk decides to begrudgingly accept the medics' presence, as long as he doesn’t do anything to disturb him. For once, Taehyung stays quiet, observing Jeongguk’s movements carefully, and Yoongi figures that it’s safe to leave them alone for a few minutes, while he conducts the last checks down at the docking station, Jeongguk just humming distractedly when he announces his departure.

“So, how does it work?” Taehyung eventually asks, interrupting the silence. He sounds genuinely curious, and when Jeongguk looks up to see innocent eyes staring back at him, the harsh words he had on the tip of his tongue dissolve before he can get them out. His face must show his confusion, because Taehyung continues, gesturing around them. “Flying the ship.”

Jeongguk frowns.

“Like in terms of the physics behind it or...” Taehyung laughs, shaking his head, and Jeongguk can’t say he isn’t relieved, because he honestly doesn’t have a clue how this monster of a ship is able to get off the ground. 

“The ship is mostly controlled by the on board autopilot system, but things like taking off or landing have to be done manually, by me,” He explains. “Though, most of the work is done before takeoff. Planning our routes in and out of another planet’s atmosphere is pretty hard, especially when their airspace is known to be unpredictable. Pluto, for example, was a tough one.”

Taehyung nods in understanding. It feels strange to have Taehyung undivided attention, but he doesn’t necessarily dislike it. 

There are some things that you just can’t predict when it comes to flying, a rough map of the Universe being the best you’re able to get. While the cross-planetary train line - the Milkyway - was able to establish a consistent route through the cosmos, this was only between certain planets and their satellites, and didn’t intersect with any known meteor shower hotspots. Spaceships, whether military, cargo or commercial, did not have the same luxury.

While there are some things that don’t change location, that doesn’t mean they always behave the same. It’s easy enough to work out where a planet will be located when you’re aware what stage they are in their orbit, but it’s more difficult to account for the projectiles surrounding it, especially the smaller ones that don’t always come up on radar. This includes things such as meteor showers, black holes, sometimes even moons. 

For example, Pluto has five moons, which makes things a little more complicated when trying to navigate to and from the planet. Particularly, when it comes to take off, the moons have been known to create some strange gravitational pulls, interfering with the compasses they rely on for their navigation system. In addition, they need to ensure that they don’t accidentally crash into any of them as they depart the planet’s atmosphere. It’s usually not an issue when you can see the moons easily enough from a distance.

Pluto’s biggest moon, Charon, is about half the size of the planet, so it’s easy to spot, but with the smaller moons it’s more tricker. It had been easy to pinpoint three out of four of the remaining moons, and figure out a way to stay far enough away from them that their gravity wouldn’t impact Euphoria’s journey past them. Jeongguk has flown to and from Pluto multiple times, so he’d say he’s pretty confident in navigating the planet’s airspace, but the smallest moon always seems to cause him problems. Kerberos is tiny, located somewhere between Nix and Hydra. 

“Did you ask Namjoon for help?” Jeongguk looks up at that, staring at Taehyung as if he’d just suggested something crazy. 

“Why would I ask Namjoon?” Jeongguk asks, genuinely confused by the suggestion. 

This time, it’s Taehyung that looks taken aback. He hadn’t picked up on any animosity between the two before, can’t detect any in Jeongguk’s voice now either. 

“Isn’t he head of Navigation?” Jeongguk nods. “Surely, he could have helped you figure it out.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t look convinced. 

“That’s not how it’s done,” He explains, as if it’s obvious. “The captain is responsible for figuring out the flight path.”

Taehyung scoffs. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Taehyung says, refusing to back down even when Jeongguk’s expression goes from confused, to offended. “You know you don’t have to do everything by yourself, right.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to reply, to agree, but he finds that he isn’t able to.

Every Captain he’d learned from had taught him that this, like most things, was his responsibility, and his alone. To involve other crew members, as much as he valued their opinions, was seen as an admission of incapability. Jeongguk knows that if he just works a bit harder, he’ll be able to work this out of his own. That’s what the problem is - he’s not doing enough. 

Taehyung kicks lightly at Jeongguk’s feet and makes him look up from where he’s boring a hole through the navigation deck. He shifts uncomfortably at the look on Taehyung’s face, the way he regards him like he feels bad for him. 

“I’m the Captain,” Jeongguk says eventually with a shrug, as if that’s an answer. 

Taehyung frowns even harder.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help.”

He says it like it’s a fact, doesn’t allow any space for discussion, so Jeongguk keeps his mouth shut. 

“One of my patients on Earth wants to do this one day, so I promised her I’d find out what it was really like,” Taehyung eventually says, when Jeongguk doesn’t say anything else, immediately lightening the mood.

“She wants to fly on a ship?” Jeongguk asks, curiously.

Taehyung grins, a fond look on his face.

“She wants to be a Captain of a ship.”

Jeongguk can’t help but smile at that.

When he’d completed space school, he’d first started working on cargo ships, which would transport various goods between planets, and the journey up had been an incredibly tough process. As the size of spaceships resemble floating buildings rather than transportation vessels, there were plenty of jobs on board, all with varying skill levels. Jeongguk had started as an intern, then tried his hand at each area of the ship, before slowly making his way up the ranks. He’d been commander for a few years, before eventually getting his big break as the Captain.

Despite being young for a Captain, Jeongguk had fallen into the role with ease. This is what he’d been made to do, and it shows in the way he lives and breathes his job, makes sure to stick to every rule and procedure available to ensure that Euphoria runs as smoothly as it can. Well, almost every rule.

“It’s a pretty difficult career to get into,” Jeongguk muses. “Does she have any relevant work experience?”

He doesn’t understand why Taehyung starts laughing. 

“She’s six, Jeon.”

Oh, right. 

“What’s it like? Flying in general, I mean.” And Jeongguk has a feeling that Taehyung is asking for himself, this time.

Even now, Jeongguk doesn’t know how to describe the feeling.

“You’re about to find out,” Jeongguk points out, and he’s grateful that Taehyung doesn’t call him out for avoiding the question, too preoccupied with the reminder that he’s about to fly, properly fly, for the first time. 

“Better make it a good one, then,” Taeyhung replies. 

“As if they aren’t all good ones,” Jeongguk says confidently, and Taehyung has a pleased look on his face, like that’s the exact response he was looking for.

Yoongi is relieved when he comes back, this time with Jimin in tow, and finds everyone still in one piece. Jeongguk is on the phone to someone, and he nods when his friends return, sticking his tongue out at Jimin when he butts in on the conversation, waving at the tiny hologram Hoseok. 

Jeongguk pushes him away, but Jimin soon finds a new victim, making a beeline to Taehyung and practically bowling him over in the process. Yoongi and Jeongguk exchange an exasperated look. Even though Jeongguk had been doing his best to avoid Taehyung since he’d become a part of their crew, it was kind of hard when he was attached to Jimin’s hip the whole time.

“I can’t believe you’re about to go on your first proper flight,” Jimin exclaims, rocking Taehyung side to side from behind. “I should’ve stuck a bumper sticker on the back of Euphoria - baby’s first spaceflight.”  

“Absolutely not,” Jeongguk interjects from afar, without missing a beat. “No, I’m not talking to you, Joon.” And then. “I already told you, everything is good on our end.” And finally. “For the last time, no I won’t say ‘over’ every time I finish talking, this is a phone conversation.”

He walks off, shaking his head.

“Just to let you know, space flight can be pretty intense, especially when it’s your first time,” Yoongi says carefully, holding his hands up in surrender when Jimin glares at him from where his chin is perched on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’m just warning him! Everyone gets space sick on their first trip.”

“Not everyone, ” Jimin points, gesturing to their Captain, who’s smiling.

“Not everyone was born with space-legs,” Yoongi shoots back. “I’m just saying, at least find somewhere to sit down,” Jimin and Taehyung nod. “You’re going to ignore me, aren’t you,” They nod again. “Well, I tried.”

For some reason, Taehyung isn’t surprised that Jeongguk hadn’t had any problems with getting used to the sensation of space travel. He carries himself like he was made for this, born to be at space-eye view. When Jeongguk walks back to them he has a tell-tale smile on his face, and Taehyung looks away. Jeongguk definitely belonged amongst the stars. 

“We all set?” Yoongi asks, and Jeongguk’s smile widens. 

They’re all set. 

There isn’t a lot more preparation to be done, after all they’ve been waiting for this all day, waiting to get their slot from space traffic control, but for Jeongguk, the novelty never really wears off. 

Jeongguk takes his first trip into space when he’s four years old, and he doesn’t remember it. 

Which isn’t how these stories usually start, but he was too young, and too tired, and too hot to pay attention to anything enough to remember it years later. His first domestic space-flight was for a family holiday to Venus, a planet that has a star as it’s next door neighbour, and god did he feel it. He’s sweating too much to feel anything else when he’s there, young enough that he doesn't understand why they can’t just turn the heat down. It’s a distant planet, a distant memory, and even on the journey home, sitting in the window seat, with his dad watching a documentary on the inflight entertainment system - he thinks it was called Star Wars - it doesn’t really register that he should probably look out the window. 

Hindsight is everything, and luckily it’s not long before Jeongguk realises that everything doesn’t just fade to black when you travel between the planets. Space is dark, but you can still see it. And when he does see it, when he’s a little bit older, pressing his nose against the window to get a closer look. 

Taehyung is quiet, even when they start to taxi towards the runway, and Jeongguk only remembers that he’s there when the shutters of the space port open for them, and he hears a gasp. 

And for others, the novelty is only just beginning.

“Shall I initiate the countdown?” Yoongi asks, waiting untilJeongguk confirms that he’s ready. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jeongguk has never had a problem with concentrating during take off, until now.

“Kim?” Jeongguk calls to make Taehyung turn to face him, the older man doing so reluctantly. “You should probably go sit down somewhere.”

If Taehyung had looked in awe of Euphoria, it’s nothing close to how he reacts to the view facing them. It’s just a slither of space, but it’s one thing looking up and seeing the stars, and it’s another to know that you’re about to dive into them. Space is dark, even if it’s not supposed to be, but Taehyung looks at the abyss like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

“I want to stand here,” Taehyung says firmly, as if it was a question. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

He’s practically pressing himself against the window, trying to see more, and Jeongguk almost smiles. He sees part of himself reflected in the man in front of him, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it either. He sees that familiar feeling of wonder on Taehyung’s face, that reminds him of the first time he saw a space himself, and really, every time since. 

“One minute until takeoff.”

Jimin looks between the two curiously, wondering which of them will back down first. Jeongguk is stubborn, sometimes to a fault, and so is Taehyung, the two being more similar than they think, and he can’t imagine either of them giving up on this one. Because even if Jeongguk is the Captain, Taehyung has been wanting this for as long as he can remember.

“Jeongguk...” Yoongi warns, when the Captain still isn’t completely focused on the task at hand. It’s unlike him.

“Please,” Taehyung says, more pleading now, and Jeongguk sighs.

“Forty seconds until takeoff,” Yoongi powers up the thrusters. 

“Alright, you can stay,” Taehyung grins so wide, that he has to look away.

Yoongi narrows his eyes in confusion, making a face at Jeongguk, who doesn’t meet his eye. They don’t have time for this right now, but more so, Jeongguk doesn’t have an answer to any of the questions Yoondi has.  

“Thirty seconds until takeoff. You with me, Guk?””

Jeongguk grips the yoke with both hands, eyes locked on the exit of the spaceport.

“I’m with you.”

Jeongguk can’t help but shoot a grin at his co-pilot, when he hears the rumble of Euphoria’s engine starting up. 

Feeling Euphoria come to life like this, is something that Jeongguk will never get used to. He feels his best here, when he can feel the hum of Euphoria underneath his feet, the vibrations that you don’t notice after a few hours, because it just feels normal to have the floor shake. Technically, Euphoria is always powered on, it has to be when there are people inhabiting it, but since they’re been docked at Pluto, the engine had remained off until they’d been given the all clear to take off and continue their journey. It’s safe to say the difference between it being on and off is a huge one, the whole ship humming when the engine comes to life, and it’s always his favourite part of the take off; making Euphoria come alive again. Really, that’s the best word for it; it’s like feeling alive.

“Twenty seconds until takeoff.”

Jeongguk doesn’t like to think of it as running away, but he’ll admit that he feels more at home when his feet aren’t on the ground, when he’s constantly moving. He’s heard that what comes up must come down, but he had a hard time doing so - staying down, and wanting to stay down. It’s something to do with gravity pulling him down, something to do with the fact that you can walk forever but never reach an end, because planets stretch on and on, send you back round again right back to the beginning. 

“Ten seconds until takeoff.”

And it doesn’t make a lot of sense because the Universe stretches too , a blanket of nothing but stars and rocks and planets, not an edge to be found, but at least it feels like he’s going somewhere new. Even when they take the same flight paths, travel to familiar planets, it doesn’t feel the same, because the universe has a habit of changing. It’s the only lack of consistency that Jeongguk appreciates, even craves. 

If Taehyung were to ask him now, what’s it’s like to be Captain, what’s it like to fly, Jeongguk would answer that it’s like coming up for air and hitting the ground running. And running away doesn’t feel so bad, when you’re heading towards something that feels a lot like home. 

“Five.”

(“Want to know what’s strange?” Yoongi asks him, once they’re comfortably out of Pluto’s atmosphere. 

Jeongguk hums from where he’s checking the flight data, pleased when he notes that there doesn’t seem to be any inconsistency during take off, Euphoria behaving exactly as it should have. He only looks up when Yoongi doesn’t continue, following his line of sight and landing on where Taehyung stands.)

“Four”

(Taehyung still stands by the window, pointing to the distance in excitement, with Jimin by his side humouring him, with a timely ooh and aah. He hadn’t moved, even when the view had become blurry, due to how fast they were accelerating in order to reach the required altitude. 

“Guess he’s one of the lucky ones,” Jeongguk shrugs non-committedly, unable to keep the pettiness out of his voice.

To Jeongguk’s surprise, the medic didn’t seem to have the telltale signs of space-sickness; the weak legs, the headache, the butterflies in your stomach.)

“Three.”

(“Don’t be like that,” Yoongi replies, reaching forwards to flick underneath Jeongguk’s chin. The Universe is big enough for both of you, Guk.” 

Jeongguk sighs. He isn’t sure there’s any galaxy that’s big enough to hold both of them. Though, he does think, if the Universe is so big, why did he have the misfortune of meeting Taehyung.)

“Two.”

(“Besides, I’m not talking about that.” Yoongi hesitates, only continuing when Jeongguk looks at him expectantly. “Kid had the entire Universe in front of him for the first time. Yet, he was looking at you.”)

“One.”

(“Oh.”)

“Takeoff!”

(“Yeah. Oh. ”)

~

The first time it happens, Taehyung has glitter on his eyelashes, and Jeongguk thinks of stardust. 

Jimin's birthday had just passed, and Taehyung hadn’t let anyone forget it, decorating the ship from top to bottom in balloons, before learning the hard way that a piñata full of glitter is all fun and games until you’re not the one who has to clear up the mess it makes. And Jeongguk ensures that Taehyung is the one to do just that, turning up at the end of the night with a mop, buckets of warm water, and an exasperated look on his face. 

When Jeongguk was younger he had thought the stars were to scale, and that if he worked hard enough, one day he would get close enough to pick one right from the sky and put it in his pocket. He figured that if he timed it right he could do it - he’d trade fireflies for catching shooting stars in a net, bring them home with him to sit on his window sill, so they wouldn’t get homesick. It’s only when he grows up that he realises that not everything is always that simple.

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, making particles of glitter land on the patch of ground that Jeongguk had just finished cleaning, and he looks up to see that Taehyung has galaxies on his skin.

He’d settled for just looking at the stars from afar, made peace with that, but it isn’t until now, that Jeongguk starts to wonder again, whether there’s a way. Because until now, he’d never wanted to inhale stardust, swallow the sun, feel the universe in his palm. Really, that should have been the first warning sign. 

“Life would be boring without me,” Taehyung sings, and Jeongguk supposes he’s got a point 

Everyone knows that dust clogs up the lungs, and everyone knows that stars scorch the throat; hard to breathe, easy to burn, and everyone knows that the universe isn’t anyones to hold. 

Taehyung has galaxies on his skin, and Jeongguk forgets that there’s a reason you can’t ever get close enough to touch the stars. 

“But it would be easier.”

But that never stopped anyone from trying.

~

Jeongguk is in his office, trying to learn about Earth, and failing miserably. 

Though it isn’t necessary to learn about the planets that you’re delivering to, Jeongguk always tries to educate himself a little so he knows what they’re getting into. Every planet is different, whether that’s in size or gravitational pull, so taking the time to figure out where you’re going tends to make the whole operation go more smoothly. For example, just by reading one chapter,  he’d learnt that it’s probably a bad idea to land in Antarctica. It’s no Pluto, but it also doesn’t sound like the nicest environment to be in. 

For Jeongguk, it’s particularly important that he’s aware of how things work on each planet, so he can conduct his business without seeming suspicious. While he may be able to sort out the logistical side easily enough, there’s a lot more that goes into what they do.

They had been flying for about a week now, and Jeongguk had already read so many textbooks, that he was giving himself a headache.

“Hey, Jeon.”

Talking of headaches.

Standing behind his desk, palms pressed on the surface of the interactive map, he hadn’t noticed the door opening. He exhales heavily through his nose, before turning round. Of course, it’s him.

“How did you get in here?” Jeongguk sighs.

The intruder stands in the middle of the room, looking around curiously. Said intruder tilts his head slightly to the side, as if he doesn’t understand the hostile edge to Jeongguk’s voice, though the attempt to appear innocent is slightly dampened by the pleased expression of his face. He nods towards the door he’d come through. 

“I did knock, you were too busy playing battleships that you didn’t notice.”

For some reason, Jeongguk doesn’t believe him. Really, he can’t imagine Taehyung ever thinking through his actions before doing them, had probably set his sights on coming to annoy Jeongguk, and hadn’t taken a closed door as a barrier. 

Taehyung keeps up the pretence for longer than Jeongguk expected, before dropping the act. 

“Okay, so maybe I just walked in,” He knew it. “But you probably wouldn’t have let me in if you knew it was me.” 

At least Taehyung is self aware. 

“I mean, you did try to kill me,” Jeongguk says blunty. 

“Still caught up on that, huh?”

Here we go again. 

Jeongguk doesn’t have the energy to have this argument, and Taehyung knows it, moving so he can see what Jeongguk has spread out on his desk. He isn’t able to get very far, before Jeongguk blocks his way. 

“First rule,” He takes a step forward, anticipating that Taehyung will back away in response. Taehyung stands his ground, unbothered by the finger pointing in his face, going cross eyed for a second to look at it. “No one comes into my office unless they have my permission. Or there will be consequences.”

Not only is he particular about who he lets into his space, he knows there’s information in that office that could get him in a lot of trouble if it fell into the wrong hands. Written contracts, notebooks filled with calculations and call logs, tracking number of deliveries that shouldn’t be taking place. There’s a reason he keeps his office locked when he isn’t there.

Jeongguk doesn’t think he trusts anyone less than the man in front of him, who’s still looking around the office, even if there isn’t really much to see.

He gestures towards the door, as if he expects Taehyung to walk about the way he came, but the medic ignores the silent request, pushing the finger being pointed at him back to Jeongguk’s chest, before walking around to the other side of the desk. If anything, Taehyung seems to take the threat as a challenge. 

“Isn’t that how pirates show their affection? By threatening one another’s lives?” 

They’ve been through this. 

Don’t ask Jeongguk why he’d taken the time to research the phrase that he’d heard Taehyung say when they’d first met, the term he hadn’t recognised. Pirate . The point is, he now knows that pirates are sea travellers, and not particularly nice ones at that. He’s never been on the sea, doesn’t really know anything about it, but he can’t imagine it’s as hard to navigate as some of the stories he’d read. 

Jeongguk doesn’t know exactly how much Taehyung knows about their culture, though clearly he knew some since he’d known how important it was to seal promises properly, but he himself couldn’t see any parallels between the two types of travellers. 

“Though saying that, you guys aren’t like I thought you’d be. Aren’t pirates supposed to have a parrot perched on their shoulder at all times?”

Jeongguk follows Taehyung’s movements suspiciously, narrowing his eyes when Taehyung stops at his piano.

“Who needs a parrot, when i’ve got you squawking in my ear 24/7?” Jeongguk mutters.

“Very funny.”

“We’re not pirates, we’re voyagers. And according to my research, all the things you just mentioned are grossly exaggerated myths about pirates to begin with- don’t touch that,” 

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just starts playing a tune that Jeongguk doesn’t recognise. It’s simple enough, just single notes, but Taehyung is careless with his hands, unbothered when his fingers scatter over all the wrong notes, before reaching the right one.

“A sailor went to,” Wrong note. “To,” Wrong note, again. “To see, see, see.” That’s better. Kind of.

Jeongguk watches him, unimpressed. Somehow, Taehyung manages to play better when he’s not focusing on what he’s doing, looking over at Jeongguk expectantly. 

“Do you know this song, Captain?”

“No,” Jeongguk replies bluntly, hoping to cut off the conversation.“And it doesn’t sound like you do either.” 

Taehyung just laughs, and if Jeongguk didn’t know better, he would think Taehyung was messing up on purpose. More likely, is that Taehyung just doesn’t care whether it’s right or not. Even when it comes to music, Taehyung doesn’t seem like the type of person to follow the rules.

“To see what.”

“Can you please stop-”

“He could.”

“Kim, stop-”

“Join in, if you know the words!”

Jeongguk paces over to the piano and shuts the lid firmly, with a loud slam, and Taehyung barely manages to remove his fingers before it comes down. 

“See-”

Taehyung snaps his fingers, nodding enthusiastically.

“So, you do know the song!”

If this wasn’t his own office, Jeongguk would walk out. But the fact is, it is his office, and if anyone is leaving, it’s Kim Taehyung. He can’t believe he’s going to have to Taehyung proof this entire room. 

“See what happens when you don’t do what I say,” Jeongguk says.

He makes a snipping motion in front of Taehyung’s outstretched hand, the medic bending his fingers so they disappear into his palm. 

“I suppose it would be pretty hard to play the piano with a hook,” Taehyung muses, and Jeongguk bites his tongue.  He has a feeling it wouldn’t sound too dissimilar to what Taehyung had just been playing. “So, there’s no walking the plank? No buried treasure or hooks for hands?” 

“We’re not-” Jeongguk starts through gritted teeth.

“Humour me,” Taehyung interrupts.

“I’m pretty sure the closest anyone has got to having a hook for a hand was when Hoseok got carpal tunnel a few years ago,” Jeongguk eventually answers.  “Though, I very much doubt our old medic would have amputated because of it. And if we have our way, Namjoon will continue to remain out of the medical sector, in order to prevent that becoming a possibility.”

Jeongguk returns to his map, ignoring how Taehyung continues to wander around, hoping that the medic would get the hint, and leave him to work in peace. He’ll admit, there’s not really much Taehyung can do other than take inventory of the medical equipment they have and conduct his online consultations, but that doesn’t mean that he should spend his time interrupting Jeongguk.

“What’s that?”

Taehyung doesn’t take the hint. 

Taehyung follows Jeongguk back to his desk, this time paying attention to the map laid on it, and Jeongguk’s scrawled handwriting in the notebook next to it. His shoulder brushes Jeongguk when he stops next to him, and the Captain shifts a little to ensure there’s at least a bit of space between them.

“What are we working on?”

Or more, Taehyung takes the hint, surveys it carefully, and then throws it out the window. 

“We aren’t working on anything,” Jeongguk answers pointedly, not looking up from, but catching Taehyung’s hand when he reaches forwards to touch the map. He pushes it away.

He massages his forehead, willing the headache to disappear, then looks up. Nope, it’s still there.

“I’m trying to learn about Earth,” He holds up the book he was just reading, and Taehyung lights up.

“Let me help,” He insists, taking it from Jeongguk’s hand, before the Captain snatches it right back

There was no way that he going to Taehyung of all people for help, even if he was from Earth.

(“You do realise that you’ve got the best resource right in front of you,” Jimin says when Jeongguk complains to him about it, gesturing to the other side of the canteen.

Taehyung is hitting a toy hammer against Hoseok’s knee, in an attempt to trigger his reflexes and get his leg to kick out by itself. It’d be a perfectly fine activity to engage in, as the resident medic on board Euphoria, if they weren’t playing some sort of russian roulette game at the same time, each player taking it in turns to stand within kicking distance. Jeongguk can’t help but think it’s unlikely that Taehyung learnt this method in medical schools. 

As if he can feel their gazes, Taehyung looks up a few seconds later, eyes latching onto Jeongguk so quickly, that’s almost unnerving, not helped by the sly smile appearing on his face immediately.

“Want to play, Jeon?” Taehyung calls, holding up his hammer. Jeongguk grits his teeth. “You could do with working on your reflexes,” 

“Play nice,” Jimin mutters under his breath, relieved when Jeongguk nods. Maybe for once, he’ll be the bigger person.

“Eat shit, Kim.”

Well, at least he tried.

“Listen,” Jimin’s voice is firm enough that he draws Jeongguk’s attention from where he’s staring daggers at Taehyung’s back. “Just give him a chance, and he might surprise you.”

Jeongguk scoffs.

“Yeah, with a knife in the back.”)

“Why did you come here, Taehyung?” He says instead, sounding so tired that Taehyung bites his tongue, stopping himself from pushing the topic further. He just shrugs, and Jeongguk pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t want to see you in here unless I specifically ask you to be.” He says firmly, walking over to the door and holding it open for Taehyung to leave through. The medic follows him without complaint, which he supposes is some sort of win.

“But what if it’s an emergency?” Taehyung asks, turning before he’s completely out of the office

“If it’s an emergency, ask someone else,” Jeongguk replies, door handle in his hand, ready to be shut firmly behind Taehyung when he leaves. If he ever does leave. 

The motion stops when Taehyung sticks his foot between the door and the frame, stopping it from closing.

“Actually, I remember the reason now,” Taehyung says solemnly, and against his instincts, Jeongguk pauses. “The reason I came here is that there was an emergency and I couldn’t find anyone else. A case of a man lost in space…”

Jeongguk opens the door again slightly, enough so that he can see Taehyung’s face, which for once looks serious, eyebrows low and corners on the mouth downturned. 

“Why didn't you start with that?” Jeongguk asks in exasperation. “When did this happen?” 

“I believe it happened in 1997,” Taehyung says solemnly.

Jeongguk panic melts into confusion.

“The poor guy lost his whole sense of humour and personality out the escape hatch. But luckily, the fact that he has the charisma and manners of a piece of cardboard didn’t stop him becoming captain of a ship, which I think is a happy ending to an otherwise tragic-”

The door is promptly slammed in his face, so hard that a small breeze is expelled from it. He blinks.

Was it something he said?

~

Taehyung may be good with technicalities, bending the situation to favour himself, but he isn’t so good at sticking to the boundaries people set for him. Just because technically, it isn’t breaking and entering if the door is unlocked when he finds it. 

Euphoria is a pretty big ship. 

When Jeongguk had first started working there, it had become a priority for him to learn the layout. It’s all well and good sweeping floors, but it’s not as easy when every corridor looks the same, and you can’t tell where you have and haven’t been.

There are plenty of places to hide in Euphoria, plenty of spaces to run in it, but it isn’t often that it’s completely silent. The constant hum of the engine isn’t noticeable once you’re used to it, but it’s usually accompanied by some sort of chatter coming from the corridors, the canteen area, or the sound of people going from station to station throughout the day. 

Today the ship is silent. 

Everyone on shift is where they need to be, that isn’t the problem, but Jeongguk can admit that he finds it unnerving that there’s no one else to be seen milling around the ship. He’s heading towards the training labs to find Seokin when he suddenly hears a lot of voices all at once. There’s no reason for it to busy, really the labs only tends to be frequented by the research team, or individuals that need a refresher  

When he pushes through the door, he’s hit by a wall of noise, and it doesn’t take long for him to track it to the anti-gravity simulator at the back of the labs. The anti-gravity chamber is supposed to be used for training purposes, to help climatise the crew to Planets with varying strengths of gravity, by adjusting the amount of gravitational force present in the environment. 

Gravity is all about attraction, all about pulling everything to everything, like a magnet but impossibly stronger. It’s how the planets pull their Moons, how the Sun pulls the solar system into orbit and how we know that what comes up, must come down. The strength of the force itself is dependent on the mass of an object, therefore on planet’s with a greater mass, there is a greater gravitational force. 

For example, the gravity on Jupiter is double the strength as the gravity on Earth, and while the planet doesn’t have a solid surface to walk on, you’d just sink into it, it’d take some getting used to suddenly being 2.5 times heavier than you were before. Long periods in places with unfamiliar levels of gravity are known to affect the human body, but it’s also a strange sensation to adapt to, even when they’re just stopping off for a few weeks.

What it’s being used for when Jeongguk sees it, is quite different to its usual function.

As opposed to the realistic changes in gravitational force that are usually tested, the chamber had clearly had its gravity settings minimised as much as possible, resulting in multiple people inside the chamber, floating aimlessly through the space, some of them are doing tricks, somersaulting midair, others speeding from one end to the other, gliding and colliding into each other as they go.

It doesn't take long for Jeongguk to zero in on the person responsible, though really, he could have guessed. Of course, he’s got something to do with it. 

Taehyung sits on the platform at the entrance to the anti-gravity chamber, surveying the whole thing with a large grin on his face. When he lets another person step into the abyss, Jeongguk’s breath catches, even though he knows nothing bad will happen. The body is caught in midair, before it can drop, but whoever it is person hurtles into someone else already floating around. 

There’s a queue of people, waiting for their turn, but none of them notice the Captain surveying them from the entrance of the room, until he starts to elbow his way through the crowd. Taehyung must see him approaching from his elevated post, because he leans over the side of the platform, resting his chin on his arms folded on the ledge.

“I know you’re the Captain, but it’s polite to wait your turn,” Taehyung calls when Jeongguk reaches him, peering down at Jeongguk.

The medic motions for the next person, one of the younger members of the crew, to start climbing up the ladder, but they barely have a foot on the rung before they’re forced back down by Jeongguk’s firm grip on his shoulder. He opens his mouth to argue, but startles when he turns to see the Captain glowering at him, sinking back into the crowd with a nervous nod of the head.

“Are you crazy!?” Jeongguk exclaims from below.

He cranes his neck, while the medic just smiles down at him, legs swinging where they now hang off the side of the platform. Taehyung shrugs. Probably.

Taehyung has to be a little crazy to play with fire like this, take the oxygen and heat, and pour on the gasoline, despite the flames licking at his ankles. He turns Jeongguk’s simmer into the fire, the explosion, but in some ways, he’s just as much of a fuel, feeding Taehyung the reaction he wants.

“Everyone, back to your rooms,” Jeongguk says loudly, turning to the rest of his crew. He narrows his eyes when he hears a few whines in protest.“It wasn’t a request. Rooms. Now.”

He never liked to shout to exert authority, but there’s something about Kim Taehyung that makes him lose  his cool, like just his presence alone makes an itch form underneath his skin, that he can’t seem to get rid of. There’s a few more grumbles, but they leave quickly enough, those still in the anti-gravity chamber departing one by one. Jeongguk looks coldly at each person who descends the ladder, and resists the urge to shake his head like a disappointed headteacher. 

His crew are grown adults, he’s aware, but they should have known better. Unfortunately, he doesn’t expect as much from the person responsible.

“Kim, get down here,” Jeongguk eventually says when the room is empty, hastily stepping back from where he stands at the base of the ladder when Taehyung jumps down from the platform, landing directly in front of him. 

He has an innocent look on his face, but this close, Jeongguk can see the glimmer of amusement there, the pleased look on his face due to seeing the Captain so obviously worked up. He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the ladder, the nonchalance making Jeongguk glower. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Jeongguk practically spits.

He can’t imagine what had possessed Taehyung to think that it was a good idea to turn a piece of training equipment into some sort of miniature amusement park.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to know what it feels like to fly, Jeon?” Taehyung asks instead, and Jeongguk is starting to realise that Taehyung answers questions with questions, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because it’s more fun to keep it to himself.

“We’re flying right now,” He points out, and Taehyung shakes his head.

“Would you relax? It was just a bit of fun.”

Jeongguk scoffs. 

Gravity is about keeping us together, as the solar system, as the Universe, as ourselves. But Jeongguk thinks that everyday he spends with Taehyung causes a part of him to chip away, float into the cosmos, never to be seen again. What comes up, must come down, but Taehyung has never been good at following the rules, even the ones that underpin his very existence. It’s self destruction, ironic from someone who has dedicated his whole life to helping others, but when Taehyung twists the rules, he decides to turn and turn, until they break into pieces. 

“Your job is to keep my crew medically fit, and free from injury. Not to plan their extra-curricular activities.” Jeongguk points out.

“Well, next week we’re doing embroidery, and you’re more than welcome to join. ”It’s BYOB - Bring Your Own Bobbin.”

Jeongguk can’t tell if Taehyung is joking, the medic keeping a perfectly straight face, though he figures maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Taehyung accidentally managed to stitch his mouth closed. 

He stops leaning against the ladder and attempts to walk away, groaning when Jeongguk blocks his exit. 

“They were perfectly safe,” Taehyung argues. “Soobin was even wearing shin pads while he was in there.”

Jeongguk laughs, without any humour.

“As happy as I am that Soobin is all set for the next five-a-side soccer games, he won’t be much help if he cracks his head open beforehand.”

The medic rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting, just a little,” He asks. “I think you’d like it; The freedom of flying, not having to worry about putting a foot wrong. Just living, while you have the chance.”

“I can feel free without putting the life of myself, or the rest of my crew in danger,” Jeongguk answers shortly, and Taehyung sighs, as if Jeongguk hadn’t really understood what he was trying to say. “Can you just take something seriously for once in your life.”

He sees his own badge, gold against Taehyung black uniform, a star in the night sky, and thinks about how hard we worked to earn it, how much he’d sacrificed to stand where he does now. And then he looks at Taehyung.

“I have no idea how you’ve gotten where you are when you act like this,” He says in exasperation. “How are you trusted to look after kids, when you act like one yourself?”

Taehyung’s expression hardens, in a way that Jeongguk doesn’t recognise. 

He regrets it as soon as he says it. Not even because of what he said, but because of how familiar it sounds, the belittling tone to his voice like a slap to the face. 

The picture flickers, morphs into something different. It’s a scene where he’s watching the world from a different body, a shorter, lankier, weaker one. Suddenly, it’s not his own voice speaking anymore, it’s the people above him when he was just starting out on Euphoria. It was the crew members that would purposely walk their dirty shoes over the hallways that Jeongguk was mopping when he was an intern and it’s the Captain who told him he’d never be where he was, didn’t have the capacity to work hard enough to get there. It’s the ‘you’re just a kid,’ that Jeongguk had always resented, and the way it had pushed him to work so much harder to prove that he wasn’t someone to be underestimated. 

Taehyung doesn’t fall apart like he did back then, but he does look disappointed. Disappointed in Jeongguk for saying them. As if he knows they aren’t true, he just never thought that Jeongguk would believe they are. 

“I don’t think comparing me to my kids is as big an insult as you intended it to be,” The protective edge to Taehyung’s voice startles Jeongguk, even though it probably shouldn’t.

All Taehyung does is talk about the children that he treats, voice turning soft every time he recounts something they had said or done after an appointment. Even though Jeongguk always made an active effort to avoid talking to Taehyung, the few times that he’d been part of a group interaction, Taehyung had always found a way to bring up one of his kids. His kids, because to Taehyung, that’s what they are. 

Because as good as Taehyung is at what he does, he isn’t so good at compartmentalising. It shows on the bad days, the mornings that Jimin pulls him to the side, tells him to not start , not today, and Taehyung walks around like he isn’t really there at all. 

“I’d be lucky to be even a fraction of my kids,” Taehyung continues, Jeongguk opens his mouth to say something else, but finds that there’s nothing there to say. “They’re the strongest people I know.”

And Jeongguk knows that, better than anyone. At the time, sitting by the side of a hospital bed, talking about nothing to drown out the sounds of his parents falling apart in the next room, Jeongguk would have given anything to swap places. He’d do it in a heartbeat, there’s no question, but he doesn’t know if he would handle it quite as well, if put in the same situation. Kids are like that; Too brave for their own good, somehow the strongest when the people around them can’t help but fall apart. They make you smile when there’s nothing to be smiling about, though it’s not because they don’t understand what’s happening.

“And they know a lot more about living than either of us ever will.”

But because they understand better than everyone else. 

We learn pretty early on that there’s a start and an end, but there’s no guarantee how long the space will be between the two. There’s no point worrying about it, not when you can’t change it, and that’s the space where children sit, trusting that things will be okay, because there’s no reason for it not to be. So, they live , in a way that everyone else eventually forgets how to do, all in such a hurry to grow up, that we do ‘t pay attention to the rest. We rush through the opening chapters, the best ones, then become disappointed when we reach the last page, and it’s the same as the one before. Skip to the good part, but we missed the best part, because we assume that growing up is inevitable. Except it isn’t, not for everyone.

And isn’t that the hardest lesson of all. 

“But if you change your mind, you know where I am.”

Jeongguk does. Because somehow, Taehyung is everywhere. He’s in the words of his best friends, the creak in the hallway outside his bedroom. And more than anything, he’s under Jeongguk’s skin.

See, if gravity keeps Jeongguk together, Taehyung attempts to tear him apart from the inside out, stitches him up just to pick at the seams. Stars eventually destroy themselves, burn themselves up like it’s inevitable, and there’s something about that, something about Taehyung, that makes Jeongguk’s stomach twist. 

~

When Jeongguk can’t sleep, he buries himself in his work, because that’s all he’s ever known to do. 

He’s sitting on his bedroom floor, surrounded by various books on Earth, and he’s getting nowhere. Right now, he’s trying to figure out exactly what the textbook’s mean when they talk about the Earth having seasons. Seasons of what? It’s safe to say that it’s not going too well. Partly because Earth is a complicated planet, with its continents and countries and cities, and partly because he can’t help but think that there’s nothing more complex than it’s people. 

And then he’s thinking about Taehyung. 

“I’ve never seen you like this with anyone else,” Yoongi points out, when Jeongguk explains to him what happened.

He never thought Kim Taehyung would make him feel guilty, but he feels it now, the feeling sitting at the base of his throat, the weight sitting on his chest. He never wanted to become like them , but in the moment that’s exactly what happened, his tongue working faster than his brain, his emotions coming out louder than they should have. 

“I don’t know what it is. There’s just something about him that gets under my skin more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

He doesn’t know why he lets Taehyung get to him so much. Or more, why he pays so much attention to the things Taehyung does, so much more than everyone else. If it were anyone else he would have been frustrated, sure, but he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.

“I think it’s because you let him,” Yoongi says carefully.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to think about what that’s supposed to mean.

It’s around 2am when he hears a knock on the door, and he groans, knocking his head back against the side of his bed. He doesn’t move, hoping that he’d imagined the sound. It works until it doesn’t, silence stretching for a few moments, before another knock comes, more insistent this time. Jeongguk glares at the wooden door, staring daggers at however is behind it, hoping the strength of his gaze will make them melt away into nothing. 

“Jeon, if you don’t open up, I’m going to wake up Jimin and use him as a battering ram to knock this door down.” 

Talk of the devil.

“I’m pretty sure Jimin has a 6am start tomorrow morning, and you know how he gets when he’s tired.”

Jeongguk winces. Maybe, there are two devils.

He only hauls himself up because he knows that Taehyung isn’t joking, and if there’s one thing worse than Taehyung alone, it’s Taehyung combined with Jimin. He’d already got an earful from the latter for upsetting his best friend, and even if he is Jeon ‘the dumbest person in the entire universe’ Jeongguk according to Jimin, he isn’t stupid enough to see what that anger looks like when combines with exhaustion.  

Of course, it had to be Taehyung. 

He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. No one else would make the mistake of disturbing him at a time like this.

When he swings open his door, Taehyung stands there in matching grey pyjama trousers and a button up shirt, with his hair sticking up in every direction and mug in his hand. Suddenly, Jeongguk can’t think.

Taehyung’s face is puffy from sleep, eyes blinking slowly like he’s fighting to stay awake, and there’s something strange about the twist that forms in Jeongguk’s stomach. Because the Taehyung he knows is all hard lines, stupid smirks and sarcastic comments, and while there’s an element of that person showing now, as Taehyung peers behind Jeongguk’s shoulder, not even hiding his nosiness, he looks softer in the night. 

Jeongguk knows a thing or two about the energy that goes into keeping up an act, how freeing it can feel to let it drop when there’s no one left to see, but Taehyung seems to float between what Jeongguk recognises, and what he doesn’t.

Taehyung looks ridiculous, Jeongguk confirms to himself, that’s the word he’s looking for. After all, his hair is a mess, the collar of his shirt lopsided, and Jeongguk is sure he can see the imprint of a pillow against Taehyung’s cheek, faint lines against soft skin. He looks away quickly, pushing that observation to the back of his mind. The image that flashes in his mind - Taehyung lying in bed swaddled in his duvet, expression open, skin warm - isn’t important. 

“What do you want, Kim?” Jeongguk says, eventually. 

There’s no one else in this wing of the ship, but he still talks slowly, something about the night making him keep his voice quiet. He’s too tired to start a fight right now, even if he probably deserves it, but Taehyung doesn’t look like he’s here for that either, observing Jeongguk’s face carefully.

“I saw the light underneath the door,” Taehyung replies, as if that’s an explanation, but Jeongguk finds himself nodding anyway. He hesitates, worrying his lips between his teeth. “Can I come in?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, but he’s quick to mask his surprise, nodding before he can think about it too much. He stands to the side to let the medic past, hovering near his door for a moment, before closing it again. Kim Taehyung in his bedroom. And isn’t that’s a sight Jeongguk never thought he would see.

It’s not like he has anything particularly personal in there, really he only uses it to sleep in or hide in when he doesn’t want to be disturbed. He stays silent as he lets Taehyung move through the space, and for a second, Jeongguk thinks that he’s going to sit on his bed. His heart stops, only thudding back to life when Taehyung just puts the mug he was holding on the bedside table. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Taehyung had sat amongst his ruffled sheets, softened with a few days' use, and he doesn’t know why the thought alone makes his cheeks go red.There’s something strange about seeing Taehyung camouflaged amongst his own things, shades of grey all fading into one.

“I brought you some warm milk.” Taehyung says, nodding to the cup and motioning for Jeongguk to take it, mistaking Jeongguk’s blank stare as a sign of suspicion. “I’m not to risk losing my medical licence by trying to poison you, Jeon. It’ll help you sleep.”

Jeongguk is careful when he responds. 

“I know you specialise in treating sick kids, but I’m not a baby you know,” Jeongguk says, and Taehyung blinks at him in surprise, taken aback by the lightness in Jeongguk’s voice. “I’m joking, Kim. Thanks.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, but clearly can’t find anything to say, shutting it again, and nodding stiffly. He looks around the room, clearly looking for something to talk about, because if there’s one thing that Jeongguk has learnt about Taehyung, it’s that he isn’t one for leaving silences. Or at least, not when he doesn’t think that they’re necessary. 

“What are you reading?” He asks, motioning at the book on his bedside table, and before Jeongguk can answer, he’s picking it up, studying the cover curiously. He doesn’t say anything immediately, and then he’s turning back to Jeongguk, a surprised smile on his face. “And you say you’re not a pirate.”

Jeongguk shifts his weight where he stands.

“Why this?” He asks, holding the book out of reach when Jeongguk tries to take it from him, not letting him avoid the question. Jeongguk just shrugs and Taehyung raises an eyebrow, opening the book and clearing his throat. “Let’s see; all children, except one, grow up-” He laughs. “Is this your autobiography?”

Jeongguk glares, though for once there’s no weight behind it. It might be the time, it might be the guilt in his stomach, but for once, he doesn’t mind Taehyung’s quips. The latter seems to sense it too, giving the book back this time, when Jeongguk motions for him to do so. 

He’d found this copy of Peter Pan in the Euphoria library, when he’d been collecting research materials about Earth, taking the paperback home with him because he was curious to learn more about the pirates that Taehyung was always talking about. For research purposes only, of course. He’d been very disappointed when he’d realised a few chapters in, that the story was obviously a fictional one, and not just a very detailed description of life on Earth. 

“If you’re Captain Hook, does that make me Smee?” Taehyung continues, making Jeongguk roll his eyes. “I think we have a lot in common; underappreciated by his captain, liked by everyone, looks good in stripes...” 

He pauses there, leaving a natural gap for the captain to interject in, hiding a smile when Jeongguk doesn’t disappoint, ever predictable.

“You can’t be Smee, he actually obeys his Captain’s orders.” 

Taehyung hums in agreement.

“Maybe, I’m more of a Wendy, then?” Taehyung suggests. “She’s sweet, just like me.”

Jeongguk practically snorts.

“There’s nothing sweet about you, darling, ” Jeongguk retorts, though there’s no malice there. “More of a Tink.” 

Taehyung clearly takes that as a compliment. Jeongguk hesitates, unsure why he’s having an impromptu book club with Taehyung in the middle of the night, but he supposes stranger things have happened.

“You didn’t tell me that pirates are the bad guys.” He tries to keep his voice casual, but he can’t keep out the whine in his voice, the way the corner of his lips downturn. 

“Are they?” Taehyung asks, amused by Jeongguk’s attempt at nonchalance. “I guess it depends which side you’re on.”

Jeongguk nods, and Taehyung thinks it’s over.

“Okay, but if you had to pick a side,” It’s not over. Taehyung has to cough to cover the laugh that threatens to spill out, Jeongguk’s face deadly serious. “Whose side would you be on?”

“Yours,” Taehyung says, so quickly that Jeongguk doesn’t know what to do. 

Jeongguk hadn’t realised that was the question he was asking, until Taehyung answered. And he hadn’t realised it would mean that much to hear it, until he feels the weight on his chest shift a little. But it doesn’t disappear. 

The medic smiles at his surprise. 

“Despite what you think, it’s yours.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say. 

“It’s getting late,” Taehyung says suddenly. He picks up Jeongguk’s milk again, motioning for the other to take it. “Drink this, and go to sleep. I’ll go back to my-’

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk blurts out.

And Taehyung almost spills the drink. Jeongguk quickly reaches for it, steadying the glass before it can go anywhere, and Taehyung sheepishly nods his thanks when Jeongguk takes it from his hands. He feels awkward standing there, holding a cup of milk in his palm, but at least it gives him something to do with his hands. At least it gives him somewhere to look, that’s not the man in front of him, who looks at him like he doesn’t recognise the person he’s looking at.

He doesn’t want to meet Taehyung’s eye, but he figures that if he’s going to apologise, he’s at least going to do it right. He tells himself that Yoongi would be proud of him right now, Jimin too, but he also knows that he’s doing this for himself too. Himself, and the guilt in his body, and the look on Taehyung’s face that he never wants to see again.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said, I didn’t mean it,” He exhales deeply. “I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on you. I know there’s nothing more important to you than your job, your patients. And you got where you are, because you worked for it.”

“Why were you in a bad mood?” Taehyung asks immediately, and Jeongguk can’t help but laugh in disbelief.

This isn’t about him, and the fact that Taehyung doesn’t seem interested in the apology, is more concerned about Jeongguk, makes it clearer than ever that Jeongguk had completely missed the mark with his comments. Taehyung must read his mind, because he interrupts before Jeongguk gets the chance to say anything.

“You know, you’re included in that,” Jeongguk tilts his head, confused. “You’re important to me too.” Jeongguk holds his breath. “My job is literally to make sure you’re okay.” And for some reason, he deflates.

Right. It’s Taehyung’s job. 

“I’m fine,” Jeongguk eventually says, as if he means it. In the moment, he does. The state of his room says otherwise, the state of his palms does too, but it is what it is.

Jeongguk thinks he probably doesn’t deserve for it to be this easy. If it were him, he would hold a grudge for much longer, but he supposes that’s where he and Taehyung are different. Or one of the many ways that he and Taehyung are different.

“Okay,” Taehyung replies, as if he believes him. Or, as if he understands that it’s none of his business if Jeongguk doesn’t want to be honest with him about this, not right now. 

He’s still trying to figure it out. How Taehyung can push so much, make him ready to snap, but never about things like this, never about the things that matter. 

“I forgive you, but I can’t promise that Jimin will,” Taehyung adds, the two of them exchanging knowing glances.

“That’s fair. I’d be more angry if I were you.” Taehyung shakes his head.

“I’ve heard way worse, from people that actually mean it.”

And then there’s the ways they’re the same. 

Jeongguk can’t imagine anything like that getting to Taehyung, not when he acts like nothing ever bothers him, but he also can’t imagine it was a smooth ride to get where he is. He wants to ask about it, but doesn’t know how to. Doesn’t feel able to when Taehyung hadn’t dug into his private life either. 

Taehyung notices the conflict Jeongguk faces, and the Captain is starting to think that picking up on non-verbal signals must be a part of the training process. Later, Taehyung will explain that children often don’t want to, or don’t know how to verbally describe what they need, so you quickly learn how important it is to pick up on things like body language and expression.

(“So, what I’m hearing is that you treat me like a kid.”

“Jeon, I saw you drinking a juice box just last week...”

“What’s your point?”)

“Think it’s a bit late for my emotional backstory, don’t you think?” He jokes, and Jeongguk glances at the clock. He’s going to hate himself for this in the morning. “Maybe, another time.”

And then he yawns, making Jeongguk glance at his clock. He winces. He’s probably going to regret this in the morning, but glancing down at the books scattered around them, he figures it doesn’t really matter.

“Kim,” He calls out, before Taehyung can exit. “My office. 9am Friday.” Taehyung frowns. “I could do with some help learning about Earth.”

He looks surprised, before a smile appears on his face. He gives a salute as he goes, and for the first time, Jeongguk finds that he doesn’t really mind the mocking action for once.

“You got it, Jeon.”

~

Falling for Kim Taehyung feels a lot like being space sick. But Jeongguk doesn’t mind  

Taehyung is laughing about something, and Jeongguk wonders what would happen if he just walked over and sat with them. Taehyung feels his attention, glancing in Jeongguk’s direction. There’s no exchange, or at least not any that’s obvious. But Taehyung moves his head slightly, gesturing upwards with his chin, as if to motion Jeongguk over to them - an invitation of sorts. 

The only difference is that this time, unlike the other instance where Taehyung had called Jeongguk over, shouting the word “Jeon!” and playfully pouting when his heckles are either ignored or met with a middle finger, Jeongguk hesitates. It’s barely noticeable, probably undetected by anyone else, but he falters slightly, opening his mouth as if Taehyung would be able to hear him respond, and he doesn’t realise until he’s shaking his head that the word he was going to say is, for once, three letters, not two. 

Jeongguk doesn’t accept, of course, he doesn’t, a small shake of his head before he’s on his way, but it doesn’t leave a bad taste in his mouth anymore. And when Taehyung lets his go, gives him a small wave, Jeongguk thinks that maybe he could try and get used to Taehyung.

~

Jeongguk is grateful for a lot of things. He’s grateful for meeting Min Yoongi when he was sixteen years old, and he’s grateful for the rest of his friends he’d met that he now considers family.

He’s also grateful that Taehyung became a doctor and not a teacher.

It’s not that Taehyung isn’t smart enough, not that he doesn’t explain things well, because really, Jeongguk leans more from talking to him than he does in a week’s worth of reading. The problem is, that Taehyung can’t stay focused on one subject to save his life. His teaching is haphazard as best, skipping from Earth’s geography, to it’s time zones, and then over to a story about the one time he went in the sea in the middle of winter, and his toes went blue. Though, after two weeks of learning about Earth from Taehyung, Jeongguk finally understands the seasons. And that alone, is more than enough. 

It’s weird, at first, getting used to no longer avoiding Taehyung, and now actively seeking him out, but Jeongguk is handling it well. It helps that Taehyung is, well, Taehyung. 

He makes it easy to like him, Jeongguk finds.

“So, what do you call the first man on the moon?” 

Or maybe not. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me about Earth?” Jeongguk deadpans, throwing the globe version of the planet towards Taehyung, who catches it easily. 

“You can’t have the moon without the Earth,” Taehyung says, before making the globe spin. “Where shall we go, Jeon?”

It’s all a blur of blue like this, but Taehyung asks the question like he’s serious, looking at Jeongguk expectantly, and booing when he doesn’t answer. He stops the globe from spinning any further with his finger, making a pleased sound, like he meant to choose where he does.

“One day, I’ll take you here,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk frowns, leaning closer so he can see where Taehyung is pointing - the middle of the Atlantic ocean. 

“So, you want to drown me,” Jeongguk answers dryly, and Taehyung’s shrugs. 

“It sounds bad when you put it like that.”

“As if there’s a good way of putting it.”

“I think you’d like the sea, you know,” Taehyung continues, ignoring him. “If you don’t get spacesick, you probably wouldn’t get seasick either. “We could go on a cruise to the Carribean, I’ve heard pirates like it around there.” Jeongguk looks at him blankly. “You’d laugh if you knew,” Jeongguk makes a face. “You’re right, you probably wouldn’t laugh.”

Taehyung knows him so well.

Though, land isn’t so bad,” Taehyung continues. “It’s got internet connection, convenience stores-” The ship rocks to one side, probably coming into contact with some space debris, and the sudden movement causes Taehyung to stumble slightly. Jeongguk bites down a smile as he rights himself. ”Stability.”

“Yet, you held me at gunpoint in order to get a place on Euphoria,” Jeongguk says dryly.

Taehyung makes a face. 

“I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

Jeongguk sticks his tongue out, and then the Earth comes hurtling back to him, very nearly colliding his forehead. He manages to catch it just in time, clutching it above his head, before looking at Taehyung in shock.

“That’s how they think the moon was formed,” Taehyung says breezily, as if he hadn’t just chucked a projectile at Jeongguk’s head without any warning. “Another planet hit the Earth, and then the debris of the two planets combined and formed the moon.”

Jeongguk looks at him like he’s mad. 

“Why?!”

“I don’t really know. I guess their orbits intersected for some reason-”

“Not that!” Jeongguk snaps. “ This ,” He holds the globe protectively to his chest when Taehyung reaches for it again. “You could have killed me.” 

Taehyung huffs.

“You’re so dramatic sometimes,” He puts on a high voice. “‘Taehyung held a gun to my head’, ‘Taehyung tried to crack my skull open with a globe’, ‘Taehyung put full fat milk in my cereal, even though I’m lactose intolerant.’”

There’s a lot to process there.

“Wait,” Jeongguk frowns. “You put full fat milk in my-”

“No,” Taehyung interrupts. 

“You just said-”

“No, I didn’t.”

There’s a long silence. Jeongguk opens his mouth. 

“There you go, talking about it again! Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?” 

“Uh, no.” 

Taehyung falters.

“Oh, yeah. My bad.”

Jeongguk is starting to think that being acquaintances, friends, whatever his is, with Taehyung, is more taxing than just disliking him.  At least then, he knew where he stood. 

~

Taehyung was obviously made for what he does. 

His consultations had run over, so Jeongguk had turned up at Taehyung’s office to wait for him, taking a seat behind Taehyung’s desk and playing on his phone. 

Jeongguk has had his fair share of dealing with paediatric doctors, even if they weren’t for himself, and it’s immediately obvious that he’s one of the good ones. It’s not like any of them were necessarily bad, at the end of the day, they were just there to do their job, but Taehyung clearly goes beyond that. Today, he’s wearing a princess tiara because it was one of his patients birthdays, and while Jeongguk has no clue how he managed to get ahold of that in the middle of the milky way, he appreciates the commitment 

Taehyung talks the kids so well, gentle but not patronising, coaxing them out of their shells in a way that doesn’t come across as forceful, and Jeongguk can’t help but listen in on their conversations sometimes, fnd smile on his face. 

Taehyung is currently having an appointment with Haeun, and the first ten minutes of the appointment had consisted of the six year old girl showing Taehyung all the drawings she had done that week, holding them up to the screen so the doctor can see them clearly, pleased when he ooh’s and ahh’s at the appropriate times. Jeongguk remembers when she first started having appointments she would still be very shy, hiding behind her parents the whole time, but now she sits in front of the webcam all by herself, and talks a mile a minute. About everything, except what she’s there for.

Jeongguk can’t help but smile at the familiar conversation he overhears.

“And are you sure you don’t have any ouchies?” Taehyung asks, when they’ve moved on from the drawings, and onto how she’s feeling. The little girl shakes her head aggressively, smiling widely, and Taehyung can’t help but smile back, even if he knows that she isn’t being entirely truthful. 

Her parents sit in the next room, within hearing distance, and Taehyung knows from them that Haeun hadn’t been feeling well the day before, which is why they’d moved their weekly appointment forwards slightly. Haeun, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think it’s relevant, more excited that she was able to see her favourite doctor sooner than usual. 

She doesn’t tend to tell him how she’s feeling unless he coaxes it out of her, making her promise on her stuffed bunny toy that she was telling the truth. That always gets her. As stubborn as she is, she’s not willing to risk the life of Tokki for anything. Still, she’s starting to get wise to the tactic, bringing the toy to every appointment so she knows that he’s safe, forcing Taehyung to think of another way around things

He looks around the room, thinking, before his eyes land on Jeongguk, who is playing some game on his phone, face scrunched up in concentration. His eyes widen when it hits him, and then he’s turning back to the screen, an innocent look on his face. 

“You know, Haeun-ssi, you remind me of someone I know,” Taehyung says carefully, the little girl looking up from where she’s playing with Tokki’s ears, and tilting her head in curiosity. Only when he knows he’s got her full attention, does Taehyung continue. “Captain Jeon.”

Said Captain Jeon looks up at that, narrowing his eyes when Taehyung glances over at him. He’s smiling, but there’s a sly look in his eyes that Jeongguk recognises straight away. More than once, he’d been at the receiving end at whatever plan came from such a look..

Haeun gasps, eyes going wide in concern, before moving closer to the camera, her whole face filling up the screen. It’s a low blow, Taehyung knows, but ever since Taehyung had come to Euphoria, Haeun had been asking after the Captain, seemingly convinced that he was the coolest person ever. 

(“I thought I was the coolest person ever, Haeun-ssi?”

“You’re cool, too! But Captain Jeon can fly !”) 

“He has an ouchie,” Taehyung says solemnly, looking pointedly at Jeongguk, who glares back at him. 

Haeun gasps again, before disappearing from the shot, leaving Tokki abandoned on the seat next to her. She appears again a few seconds later, with some paper and a crayon in her hand, looking serious. Or as serious as a seven year old in her pyjamas, brandishing a purple crayon can look.

“Where does it hurt?” She asks, hand poised to write down the symptoms, and Taehyung has to stop himself from laughing when she looks at him expectantly, pointing at her head.

He can’t help but feel fond, when she imitates what he always does. It’s a way he gets the kids to identify where they’re hurting, without having to say it themselves or try and find the words for it. She points to different body parts - her head, big toe on the right foot, and ear lobe - until her hand rests on her chest. Taehyung nods, and she looks distraught.

“As you can see, Dr Lee, I’m afraid it’s quite serious. It’s his heart. It’s been broken,” Taehyung says sadly. 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, putting down his phone and resting his chin in his palm, shaking his head. You’re a dick , he mouths, and Taehyung looks scandalised, before knitting his eyebrows together in faux concern. 

“What do you suggest we do, Doctor?”

Jeongguk learns about heartbreak at 16 years old, and never really stops leaning about it. He just feels it less. Even if it does infect your whole body, burrowing it’s way underneath your skin until it’s all you can feel, can’t imagine ever feeling anything else, it doesn’t last forever. Not in that form, at least. Pain loses its pulse when Jeongguk allows himself to breathe again, gives himself space to let it simmer into nothing over time. Time is good like that, Jeongguk now understands. Because pain doesn’t have to be felt forever, and it certainly doesn’t have to be felt alone. 

Everything isn’t exactly okay now, but it’s just this. This, being a heartbreak that doesn’t ever heal, but no longer splits you in two, and a life with a gap but a life that carries on regardless.

Haeun scrunches up her face, thinking for a while, before her expression brightens.

“Eating more veggies?” She suggests, and Taehyung snaps his fingers, nodding enthusiastically. Haeun sits a little straighter, proud look on her face. 

“I’ve heard talking helps too,” Taehyung suggests nonchalantly, making the girl tilt her head, confused. “It’s best to be honest about how you’re feeling, so we can work out how to make things better.” 

Jeongguk has a feeling that Taehyung isn’t saying that just for Haeun’s sake. 

Still, it seems to work, the little girl hesitating, before quietly mentioning that she wasn’t feeling well the day before. Taehyung is gentle when he asks her questions, and Jeogguk guesses that he can’t be too mad about being thrown under the bus, because it’s not long before Taehyung is pointing to random body parts, just to make Haeun giggle. At least they now know that she doesn’t have a sprained tongue, or a fractured elbow. 

“You know, Captain Jeon always takes his vitamins too” Taehyung adds, just as the session is about to end, and Jeongguk has to stifle his laughter. 

Getting Haeun to take her vitamins is a weekly struggle the doctor has with her, because she doesn’t like the taste of them. 

There’s silence. 

“He does?” She asks, and Taehyung confirms it, nodding seriously.

“It makes him a good captain. Just like you will be one day,” Jeongguk knows that Taehyung is saying that for Haeun’s sake, but Taehuung calling him a good captain has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. 

She puffs her chest. 

“Good captains have to be strong, brave, cool!” She exclaims, and Jeongguk can’t help but wonder what handbook she’s reading from, and how he can get his hands on it. 

“Well, Captain Jeon is strong and brave,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk feels touched, until Taehyung stage whispers the next part. “But he’s not very cool.”

That’s more like it. 

Haeun must disagree with Taehyung, because she shakes her head aggressively, a pout on her face.

“Captain Jeon is the coolest!” She exclaims, and Jeongguk sticks his tongue out at Taehyung - told you so. Everyone knows that being called cool by a six year old who has never met you is the biggest compliment you can get. “And when he fixes his broken heart, he’ll be even cooler.” 

Taehyung nods in agreement, thanking her for her diagnosis, before concluding that they’re done for the day. He asks Haeun to get her mother, so he can talk to her, and then she’s making Tokki wave, bringing him right up to the camera to kiss Taehyung goodbye. 

“Ready to learn about the greatest planet in the universe?” Taehyung asks, turning to Jeongguk when the session is finished.

“What was that about?” Jeongguk asks instead, and Taehyung ignores him, in favour of clearing his things away. There’s a small smile on his face though, so Jeongguk knows that he’d been heard. 

“Did you read that chapter I set for you?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes. Taehyung doesn’t set him homework, and even if he did, he knows that Jeongguk wouldn’t do it. “It was Chapter six - All About the Weather.”

“Kim.”

Taehyung finally looks up, amusement on his face. 

“Sorry Jeon, I just don’t think you’re that cool,” Taehyung says faux sympathetically, patting Jeongguk’s shoulder patronising as he goes past. 

Jeongguk sputters.

“It’s not me, it’s you.”

~

“You can’t put a yellow on top of a green,” Seokjin points out, explaining the rules for the third time.  “You need to either put down a green, or another colour that has a six on it.” 

Taehyung is objectively the smartest person in their group, not only by having a degree, but getting through medical school and becoming a fully certified doctor. But for some reason, Uno seems to be his kryptonite. 

Taehyung studies his cards carefully, before placing one on the table. 

“That’s a nine, Taehyung,” 

“Not if you look at it upside down,” Taehyung points out, sitting back in his chair, and folding his arms over his stomach. 

He’s got a point. 

He takes the nine back when Seokjin refuses to accept it, flicking through his deck with a frown on his face. 

Jeongguk feels bad for him, looking at all the cards that Taehyung has, so many that he can barely hold all of them. He’d tried to help him out, only using his pickup cards when the direction of play was reversed, but unfortunately it hadn’t made much of a difference, and had only really resulted in Yoongi getting pissed off with him.

From where he’s sitting next to him, he can see that Taehyung has plenty of cards he could play, some better than others, and he leans forward to look at them property. Taehyung turns to him with a pout, holding out the deck so Jeongguk can see better. 

“I don’t think that’s allowed,” Namjoon points out, though he shuts his mouth when Jeongguk glares at him. 

The Captain points one out, a green plus 2, making Seokjin scowl at him when he’s made to pick up two extra cards, while Jeongguk smiles at him innocently. Technically, it was Taehyung that did it.

He’s tied with one card with Jimin, and he’s pretty certain that he’s going to win, since his only card is a plus 4, that can go on top of anything. When it gets to him, there are already four plus 4’s stacked on top of each other, each one going down with a chorus of shouts from the players. The next move should be obvious; Jeongguk puts down his matching card, and wins the game.

So, why does he hesitate?

He knows for a fact that Taehyung doesn’t have any plus 4’s, probably wouldn’t know what to do with one even if he did, and for some reason his heart tugs as the thought of putting Taehyung through that. 

Jeongguk looks helplessly at the single card in his hand, sighing heavily, before leaning forwards to take sixteen cards from the deck.

“Whipped,” Yoongi mutters under his breath.

Luckily, the comment is drowned out by the sound of Jimin cackling. He dances in his seat, before throwing his single card down when it gets to his turn, smirking at Jeongguk, before turning to Taehyung and thanking him.

Thinking about it later, Jeongguk doesn’t know why he did that. It’s just a game, but he’d always been competitive, never one to give other people a chance, believing that all is fair in love and war, and more importantly, in love and board games. 

But he supposes that if Taehyung had always been good at getting under his skin, that doesn’t necessarily always have to be for bad reason.

‘I think it’s because you let him’ , Yoongi had said, and Jeongguk is starting to think there might be some truth in that.

“Why does everything have to be so confusing?” Taehyung asks once the game is over, throwing his stack of cards into the middle of the table with a huff. 

Jeongguk finds that he can’t help but agree. 

~

The navigation tower of Euphoria isn’t really used anymore. It’s a leftover from when the ship was used for military reasons, when there was need to look out for other ships getting too close, but Jeongguk likes to go up there sometimes, and feel the universe envelope around him. The tower is all enclosed, but once you’ve climbed the ladder and reached the platform at the top, it feels like you could reach out and touch . He’s sleepy, eyelids heavy, but he barely blinks, trying to take it all in.

Earth it getting close now, soon enough they’ll be able to look out and see it.

You don’t see stars like this when you’re on land. The cities, the light pollution, creating a smog and covering them up. It’s artificial there, but above it all, in an atmosphere owned by no one, you can see them clearly, small pinpricks of light among the ink. They will never get close enough, the stars whole other galaxies away, some acting as the suns to a completely separate solar system, but they’re comforting to see all the same. 

His attention is only drawn away from the sky when he hears a sound. It only happens once; a clicking noise that he strains to hear again. It doesn’t happen, the usual sound of the ship humming all he can hear. Jeongguk tilts his head back up, figuring he must have imagined it. But then, there it is again, louder this time. He frowns and stands up, peering over the side of the navigation tower to investigate the noise.

“Rapunzel, is that you?” 

And the sun is even closer. 

There’s not alot of space up there, since it’s not supposed to be used by more than one person at a time, or anyone at all, but somehow Taehyung had figured out that Jeongguk was there, and taken it upon himself to come visit. 

Taehyung grabs Jeongguk’s outstretched hand to heave himself up, making Jeongguk tumble backwards with the momentum of the extra body, before shoving Taehyung off with a grunt, making the medic roll over, and land face up on the ground.

He rights himself after Jeongguk shifts around a little to make space, and he’s pretty sure they’ve been talking about nothing for about half an hour now. Taehyung spends the majority of that time telling Jeongguk about his patients, and while before Jeongguk had liked the quiet, he’s found that he likes this too. Listening to Taehyung talk.

Jeongguk closes his eyes and leans his head back against the tower wall, humming every so often to show that he’s listening, while Taehyung talks lowly. He laughs, the sound coming from deep in this throat, when Taehyung talks about the last appointment he’d had with Haeun.

“She’s a good kid,” Jeongguk says, blinking his eyes open again, to see that Taehyung is already looking at him. He doesn’t really mind it. “I used to be a bit of pain in the ass when I was younger.” 

Taehyung snorts at that, giving him a pointed look - ‘what do you mean used to be’. He can easily imagine a younger version of Jeongguk running around and causing trouble. That stubborn attitude of his, paired with his reckless demeanor, combining perfectly. Perfectly, depending on how you see it. 

“I never did anything bad, exactly. I was dumb,” He pauses, unsure he really wants to share, before deciding fuck it, Taehyung already knows too much about him. “Dumb and angry, I guess.”

Taehyung doesn’t push, and for that he’s grateful. 

“Yoongi helped me a lot back then,” He hesitates, then thinks fuck it .

He takes a breath.

“My little brother died when I was sixteen.” 

Then lets it go.

It feels good to get it out, and he hadn’t even realised it was a weight, until he’s said the words. The tower is enclosed, but it still feels like it goes somewhere else, like he’s telling the entire universe at the same time, but doesn’t have to hear their responses. It’s the looks of sympathy, the one that he’s never really thought he deserved, never really thought he needed. Because when they say it’s such a shame, that the universe is so cruel, all Jeongguk really knows how to do is agree.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just lets him talk, and Jeongguk has always appreciated the fact that Taehyung knows when to let someone do that. As much as being a doctor is about knowing what to say, it’s more important to listen to what you’re being told.

“There was nothing I could have done to make things better, but I spent so much of my teenage life feeling angry that I couldn’t do anything, or stop it from happening. So, I acted out, started doing reckless things because for some reason after losing someone, you start to feel untouchable.”

Taehyung nods, like he understands, even if he doesn’t. 

“That’s actually how I met Yoongi. He’s the one that got me into this thing, actually. Flying, I mean. I tried to steal his space buggy,” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, almost impressed by the brave act. “And then he taught me how to properly steal it.”

Taehyung’s laugh is short, surprised, and Jeongguk smiles. It’s unconventional, the way he and Yoongi became friends, but he’s starting to realise that really, the best things are. He looks at Taehyung, the way he stares back, face open, free of judgement. Really, the best people are too.

Yoongi was usually the one called to calm Jeongguk down when he’d get frustrated when no one listened to him, throwing chairs and kicking plant pots in frustration. It was never towards anyone, he wasn’t intending to hurt people, but it was he was difficult to deal with. Then there’s Yoongi’s hand on his shoulders, and he’s telling him to breathe - in, out, in, out, that’s it Guk, you’re doing so well.

“He took me out on a little pedalo ship one weekend, a small carrier the next. He even took me on this fancy s-yacht off the coast of some hot planet that I never caught the name off. At the time I didn’t realise that he’d stolen every one of them,” He stops himself, one side of his mouth tipping upwards slightly. “No, not stolen. Just borrowing. That’s what he’d always say.”

Taehyung laughs at that, not surprised. 

“He’s still a thief,” He points out, recalling the time a few weeks ago that he’d caught Yoongi red handed stealing a spoonful of his mashed potato. The thief, with their cheeks full, had just shrugged, said he would return it if he wanted. Unsurprisingly, Taehyung hadn’t asked for it back.

“It helped, though. Being able to escape for a bit. On planets you just walk and walk, and never really get anywhere, and I never liked staying in one place. This way I’m always moving towards something.”

“And away from something?” Taehyung asks lightly, and Jeongguk hesitates, before nodding, feeling almost ashamed. He looks down at his hands. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He looks up, and Taehyung is already looking at him. Jeongguk is starting to realise that he always is. But he doesn’t mind it.

“Sometimes the push is bigger than the pull, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t leaving for the right reasons,” Jeongguk nods. He’d never really thought about it like that. “And if it helps, I think you turned out alright.”

Jeongguk exhales sharply through his nose. 

“Just alright?”

Taehyung tilts his head, pretending to think hard. 

“I’d say so.”

He laughs when Jeongguk pokes him in his side. 

“I guess, you’re alright too. Sometimes.”

~

Jeongguk doesn’t mean to let Taehyung get so close. 

He doesn't realise how late it is until Taehyung yawns from where he’s sitting cross legged on the floor by the filing cabinets, surrounded by books and papers. It’s hard to tell the difference between night and day where the sky doesn’t tell you, and it’s easy to lose track of time. 

The clock is in single digits, and he turns to Taehyung to tell him, but his heart stops when he sees what Taehyung has in this hand. He’s frowning, looking down at the documents, and Jeongguk presses his lips together grimly. 

“Jeongguk...” He winces. Taehyung never calls him by his name. “What is this?”

He doesn’t answer, frozen in place, though h’s calmer than he thought he would be. There’s a slight panic drumming in the back of his mind, but there’s a feeling of acceptance there too. He can’t say that he expected to be caught so soon, but he’d always known that the inevitable had to happen one day. He just didn’t expect to be so relaxed about it.

If anything, Taehyung looks more stressed than he is, looking up at him with confusion written all over his face. 

While Taehyung bends the rules, Jeongguk breaks them. But neither of them have the power to change the things that aren’t negotiable.

“Look like goody two shoes Jeon isn’t as much as a stick in the mud as I thought.”

What comes up, must come down.

~

“I can’t believe all my friends are drug lords,” Taehyung grumbles, stabbing his fork into his dinner. “And even worse.” Stab, stab, stab. “They didn’t even bother to tell me.”

Jeongguk winces. It sounds a lot worse than it is.

Jeongguk really didn’t want to have this conversation over the dinner table, but he needed to have everyone involved present, and Seokjin had insisted that it wasn’t a good idea to talk about such a heavy topic on an empty stomach. The seven had been forced to sit down together before proper discussions could take place, and he expected it to be awkward, but not quite this awkward.

Jimin sits, wracked with guilt at one end of the table, and Taehyung seemingly takes his frustration out on his food, not even eating it, more pulverizing it into smaller pieces, while the rest of the group remain silent. 

“Taehyung, what do you want to know?” Jeongguk asks eventually when it gets too much, and next to him Yoongi looks surprised that he’d been the one to start the conversation. 

Taehyung puts down his utensils, before meeting the eye of everyone around the table in turn. Jimin shrinks into his seat, but Jeongguk stares back when the gaze lands on him. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him, clearly expecting the Captain to shy away from it, and it feels like the beginning again, but this time it’s Taehyung showing hostility towards Jeongguk.

“I have a lot of question,” Jeongguk thought as much. “Explain to me how it works?”

Jeongguk glances at Hoseok, since he’s the one that carries out the logistical side of things, and is probably the person who can answer the question the best. 

“Euphoria transports millions of dollars of cargo at a time, which mainly consists of drugs for private pharmaceutical companies to sell abroad to neighbouring planets. We’re the middle man between the supplier and the seller, which means that we’re able to to intercept whatever they’re sending, before it gets to their destination.” 

Taehyung frowns.

“Surely, the sellers notice when they receive less stock than they expected.”

“We have that covered,” Hoseok hesitates, looking at the captain, who nods, before answering. “Jeongguk has connections all over the solar system at every stage. We have people that adjust the stock file on pharma’s end, others that help with getting the goods out of Euphoria and to our required destination without detection, when we arrive at the planet. There are also people stationed at the spaceports who let us know if people are starting to sniff around, so we know to be careful.”

Taehyung glances at Jeongguk, and he almost looks impressed.

“And how long have you been doing this for?”

“Jeongguk approached me with the idea a few months after he became captain of Euphoria,” Yoongi explains. “The others only got involved when we wanted to scale up the operation and needed to recruit more people that we could trust.”

The first time, Jeongguk can admit that he was scared. He’d been on edge since they’d received the cargo, only settling down once they were midair and heading to their destination planet, and only completely calm when the stock was confirmed to arrive where they sent it. It had been easier than he expected, and before long the process was running like a military operation, helped by the crew members that he enlisted to assist him.

Looking around the room, Taehyung isn’t surprised that the group were so loyal to one another. He had known when he arrived that the six members were close in a different sort of way, some sort of family. He just hadn’t imagined that there was so much riding on it.  And that they’d be willing to risk so much for their captain.

“How much have you made from all this?” He’s met with identical confused faces, and he falters.  “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

The six men look at one another, before Yoongi turns to Jeongguk.

“You didn’t even tell him that?” He asks, and Jeongguk doesn’t know what else to do, but shrug. He’d figured it was best to do nothing until they were able to get together and handle the situation as a group.

“We don’t make a profit, Taehyung,” Jeongguk says finally, and this time, Taehyung is one who looks confused. “We have a partnership with a healthcare organisation that supplies medical supplies to underfunded hospitals. We transport the goods, fix some numbers in the process, and organise a pick up of a proportion of the drugs and equipment at whatever planet we’re travelling to. “

For once, Taehyung is rendered speechless.

“So, not Captain Hook. Robin Hood,” He muses eventually, focusing back on Jeongguk with an unreadable expression on his face. Jeongguk doesn’t know what that means, but at least Taehyung doesn’t seem angry.  “Why you?”

Jeongguk frowns. He expected more of an interrogation, but Taehyung doesn’t even sound angry. 

“Why not me?” Jeongguk answers simply. “I have authority, I have connections-”

“No, I get that,” Taehyung interrupts. “But just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. You do know you’re insane for this, right?”

Jeongguk does know that. But he also knows that he’s just the right amount of insane to do something like this, and still come out clean every single time. All it takes is one mistake, trusting the wrong person, for the whole operation to crumble, and Jeongguk had always known that was a possibility. He’d just never cared. And he knows the rest of the group feel the same way.

“Be honest. If you have the same opportunity as me, you would do it too,” Taehyung starts to say something, maybe protesting, maybe agreeing, but Jeongguk doesn’t give him the chance. “Tell me you wouldn’t do anything within your power to help one of your kids. Including this.” 

Taehyung falls silent, sitting back in his chair.

It’s a low blow, but Jeongguk wouldn’t have said it, if he didn’t believe it.

He hears the way Taehyung talks about the kids he treats, the way his face lights up when he does, the way his body sags when he talks about how much pain they’re in sometimes, and even if Taehyung doesn’t say anything, his face says it all. No one has to say it outloud, but they all know Taehyung would go to hell and back for his kids.

“I don’t think we’re that different,” Jeongguk says, and Taehyung smiles for the first time since they’d come into the room. 

Jeongguk hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until some of the tightness in Taehyung expression loosens, the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’d never cared about what others thought about him, but he’ll admit that it means something that Taehyung seems to get it.

“Even when you’re committing crime, you manage to come out as the good guy.” He says, and Jeongguk suddenly feels awkward. 

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say, because he isn’t so sure that Taehyung is right about that. Even if he forgets it sometimes, he’d always known that people are shades of good and bad, a type of grey that sometimes they don’t fit in the boxes that you want them to. Or the ones you expect them to. 

“I don’t think I’m the good guy you seem to think I am,” Jeongguk points out. He doesn’t think he’s a bad person, but he also doesn’t know if he’s a good person. He just knows that existing somewhere along the continuum is what works for him. Bad for good reasons is still bad.

“You are from the side I’m on.”

And space isn’t supposed to be dark but it is. 

“So, what can I do to help?”

The room suddenly becomes loud.

“No way,” The words came out of Jimin’s mouth, but Jeongguk was thinking the same, shaking his head before Taehyung had even got the words out. “You’re not getting involved.”

“I trust him,” Yoongi says calmly, and the room goes silent, before an argument can break out.

It surprises Jeongguk that he’d never doubted whether they could trust Taehyung to be involved. The issue was more that he didn’t want to involve the medic in something so obviously illegal, that had a very real possibility of it ending badly. He would want anything to happen to his friends, he’d never forgive himself, but Taehyung had people who needed him. He thinks of Haeun, about how she struggles to talk to people and how much progress she’d made with Taehyung, and can’t imagine making her start again with someone new. More than that, he doesn’t want Taehyung to get involved, doesn’t want to risk getting him into trouble, because it’s Taehyung . He doesn’t want to think about why, for him, that’s enough. 

“Are you sure about this?” Jeongguk asks carefully, the group falling quiet again.

At the same time, it’s Taehyung , and while he’s good at a lot of things, staying out of trouble isn’t one of them. He’d probably try and get involved no matter the circumstances. Taehyung knows how to look himself, Jeongguk knows that. He’s just reluctant to put him in a situation where he might have to.

“I’m sure,” Taehyung answers.

Jeongguk hesitates, and at the other side of the table, Jimin groans. He already knows where this is going, can see it in the way Jeongguk hasn’t immediately said no. What was it that Taehyung had said on the day they met? 

“Don’t make me regret trusting you,” Jeongguk says, and Taehyung’s eyes go wide, before he’s grinning. 

Don’t get into trouble, unless you’re with him.

“You got it.”

~

“How’s your heart, Jeon?” Taehyung asks one afternoon, and Jeongguk rolls his eyes, following Taehyung into the infirmary, and watching him put his things back into the cabinets with a frown on his face.

“My heart is doing just fine.”

Taehyung makes a sound like he doesn’t believe him, opening up different drawers as if he’s looking for something. Jeongguk spots the stethoscope at the same time as Taehyung does, clamping his mouth shut, and stepping back. 

“I just need to be sure. Your health comes first, Captain,” Taehyung says sincerely, and now Jeongguk knows that Taehyung is just trying to be a pain. He would never address him by that title if he were being genuine. “Come here.”

Jeongguk shakes his head.

“I need to check that there aren’t any irregularities in your heartbeat,” Taehyung says, putting the stethoscope around his neck and warming the chest piece in his hand. “It won’t take a minute.”

“Actually, I just remembered I have an appointment I need to get to,” Jeongguk blurts out, and Taehyung presses his lips together, trying not to laugh, before schooling his face into a curious expression.

“Oh, really? What sort of appointment?”

Jeongguk’s mind goes blank, and he wills himself to say anything.

“A doctors appointment.”

Anything, apart from that. 

“Who with?” Taehyung continues keeping up the act, even as Jeongguk is wincing at himself.

“A doctor.”

Nailed it. 

Taehyung gives him a deadpan look, and Jeongguk sighs. He looks anywhere but at Taehyung, who places one hand on Jeongguk’s back to keep him upright. He instinctively looks down when Taehyung looks up at him, not realising that he would be so close. 

“What did I tell you about breathing, Jeon,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jeongguk exhales. He still needs to work on that. 

He jumps when he feels Taehyung’s fingers brush against his cheek, the touch gentle.

“It healed well,” Taehyung says softly after a few moments, voice quiet, like talking too loudly will shatter the moment surrounding them. Jeongguk gets it, feels the fragility of what they are now, whatever that may be, but thinks how nice it would be to just not care for once. 

It takes him a while to understand what Taehyung is referring to - the small scar that had formed from his injury back on Pluto. It hadn’t taken long to heal properly, but it had left behind a small indentation in the skin, that Jeongguk barely notices, unless he’s looking for it.

“You permanently disfigured me,” Jeongguk says, unable to resist reminding Taehyung that he was the one had caused it.Taehyung scoffs at the dramatics. “Are you ever going to apologise?”

Taehyung drops his hand from Jeongguk’s face, letting it rest on the captain’s shoulder instead. For once, he doesn’t feel the need to shake it off.

“Probably not,” Taehyung responds, and Jeongguk can’t say that he’s surprised. “Think of it like a souvenir.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.

“Why would you need a souvenir, when you’re always here.” 

It’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out more gentle than he intended it to, voice bordering on fond. He coughs, hoping that Taehyung hadn’t noticed, though the medic tends to be too observant for his own good. Especially when it comes to Jeongguk.

“Looks like that’s going to stick around for a while,” Taehyung continues, and even if he doesn’t say it directly, Jeongguk isn’t sure if they’re still talking about the scar anymore.

“I don’t mind,” Jeongguk breathes, and Taehyung smiles.

They’re not talking about the scar anymore.

Taehyung removes the hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, unhooking the stethoscope from around his neck and placing the earpieces in. Jeongguk’s shirt is loose enough that Taehyung can just pull his collar down to access his chest. Taehyung’s fingers brush his collarbone when he moves the fabric to the side, and Jeongguk has to stop himself jolting, like he’s been burnt. 

There’s a reason that you can’t get close to stars. 

The pressure of the stethoscope against his chest is a little cool, but not bad, and he stays silent as Taehyung listens, willing his heartbeat to slow down. He has no such luck.

“You’re nervous about something,” Taehyung says suddenly, removing the stethoscope, and hanging it over his shoulders again. Even though his voice is quiet, Jeongguk swears he hears it echo around the room. “Your heart is beating really fast.”

Haven’t they already been through this? 

Jeongguk doesn’t answer, laughing nervously, before trying to step back. He forgets that Taehyung is holding him in place.

“Do I make you nervous?” Taehyung asks, getting his answer when Jeongguk hesitates. Taehyung’s eyebrows pull together, genuine concern on his face. “I’ll leave you alone if you want me to.”

He lets go of Jeongguk then, tries to take a step backwards, but is stopped by a hand pulling him back. It was clear that Jeongguk hadn’t meant to do that, had just acted by instinct, but he can’t really go back now that he’s got a fistfull of Taehyung’s shirt.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Jeongguk says, not knowing how to continue.

Taehyung takes pity on him, unprizing Jeongguk’s hands from his shirt by tapping his knuckles, making it flatten against his chest instead. He can feel Taehyung’s heart now, how it beats as fast as his, and it’s a relief that he’s not the only one. 

“I want you...” Taehyung looks at him expectantly, and while Jeongguk had intended to finish his sentence, there isn’t much more to say. “I guess, that’s it. I just want you.”

 Taehyung’s eyes widen.

“Oh.”

(“Yeah. Oh ”)

“This is probably a bad idea,” Taehyung warns, but that doesn’t stop him from moving closer, adjusting himself so he’s got one hand on Jeongguk’s waist, another below his jaw. And that doesn’t stop Jeongguk from leaning into the touch, tilting his head up slightly so he’s breathing against Taehyung’s lips. 

“Probably,” Jeongguk agrees. 

And then he’s tipping forwards. 

There isn’t a supernova in his chest, he doesn’t see stars behind his eyes, but there’s something like a click in the back on his mind. It’s a warmth that he didn’t even realise he was reaching for, a fraction of a burning star sitting underneath his palms, and Jeongguk is scared to press too hard, incase is crumbles between his fingers. 

It feels like completing an orbit, going straight back to the start, but this time, not minding that you have to do it all over again, because the familiarity is exactly what you need right now. Jeongguk thinks that he wouldn’t mind going round again and again, if this is how it would feel. 

It isn’t desperate in the way that it could be, not so frantic that he doesn’t know when he starts and the other person begins, but it still takes the breath from his lungs when Taehyung’s hand tightens at his waist. When Taehyung pulls away it’s too soon, though Jeongguk is grateful that his hands stay anchored on him, isn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“You’re shaking,” Taehyung says quietly, and Jeongguk hadn’t really noticed until he says it.

Jeongguk is never like this. He always feels in control of himself in every situation, especially in moments like these. He;s able to kiss just once, fall into it without a second thought, a means to an end. But he finds himself hesitating here, because this is Taehyung, and somehow, that means something. Somehow, that means everything.

“I’m okay,” Jeongguk says back, and really, he means it. “It’s just because it’s you.”

Taehyung smiles, moves his hand so he’s cupping Jeongguk’s jaw more firmly tilting it up slightly, so Jeongguk is looking at him. Really, he always is. 

“It’s just me,” He says. “I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t want me to,” Taehyung hums, fingers dancing along the back of Jeongguk’s neck and brushing the skin underneath his collar, his touch somehow feather light but burning all at once. 

Jeongguk wants to tell Taehyung that he hadn’t even thought about that. Because despite what he’d said, this isn’t just about wanting things, wanting people who aren’t yours to want. See, he’s got self control, could stop himself from touching if he needed to, but his chest aches to hold. It’s not about people knowing, honestly he couldn’t care less. 

That’s what he should’ve said, but instead, he just nods, hopes Taehyung understands.

“You’re still not cool, though,” Taehyung says, before he’s stepping out of Jeongguk’s arms. He feels cold where he stands, unsure what to do with his hands, not he doesn’t have a body underneath them.

“I’ll change your mind,” He answers, and Taehyung looks at him like that’s all he ever does - surprise him, change his mind. Jeongguk looks away and cracks his knuckles. “So. About the weather…”

For some reason, Taehyung laughs.

“I’ve got you talking like an Earthling, already, huh?”

Jeongguk doesn’t get it. 

Taehyung is smiling with all his teeth, and Jeongguk finds his eyes lingering on the way the grin takes up his entire face, the way it forms crinkles by his eyes, forces them shut.

He blinks, shaking himself out of it.

Clearly, Jeongguk doesn’t get a lot of things.

~

Earth is more blue than Jeongguk expected it to be.

When he sees it for the first time - because really, sleep deprived, seven year old eyes don’t take in much, before they glue themselves back to the cartoons playing on the spaceship’s back of seat monitors -  he forgets what he’s supposed to be looking at. 

Jeongguk hears a commotion when it happens, a small crowd of people looking out of the windows and pointing excitedly. 

Earth is more blue than Jeongguk remembers, with swirls of white above patches of green, and maybe one day Jeongguk will regret not looking for longer, not staying focused for his first proper sighting of the planet. Because really, he doesn’t take it in properly then, doesn’t take it in properly now, but it’s nothing to do with the planet itself, and everything to do with the person who calls it home. Who also sees Earth for the first time, and can’t seem to look away.

Sitting level with the stars, even the most familiar of places look foreign, because it’s all well and good knowing about the sea and the land and the clouds, but it’s another to look down on them from above. If there is a heaven, an above, it must look like this - like being surrounded by darkness, just to turn a little to the left, and see home right in front of you.

Jeongguk finds Taehyung at the watchtower. Earth looks closer from here.

Taehyung has never seen Earth like this, and Jeongguk feels like he shouldn’t be looking, when Taehyung gasps, fingers pressing against the glass, because sometimes we forget that we can’t just reach out and touch just like that. Earth looks small from here, a marble in the sky, and it’s easy to imagine plucking it from the night and putting it in your pocket. It’s even easier to imagine pressing it beneath your thumb, a reminder that the smallest things are often the most delicate, often need the most care. 

“Are you excited to go home?”

Jeongguk doesn’t know how he ended up by Taehyung’s side, but he’s starting to realise that maybe it’s not so bad a place to end up. It isn’t quiet, it isn’t calm, but every breath Jeongguk takes feels too loud, like an interruption. 

“Is it weird that I didn’t miss it, until right now?”

There’s a lot of talk about not knowing what you’ve got until it’s gone, but for Taehyung, he doesn’t ache from the absence, until it’s right in front of his eyes. To know what you’ve lost is one thing, but to forget what you’ve got is another. Now that Earth is all he can see, a spot of blue amongst black, light amongst dark, it’s easy to miss what you have chosen to run from. From here, home can be covered by Taehyung’s thumb, and isn’t that so strange? 

Jeongguk has never felt homesick, but he guesses this is what it must look like. And Jeongguk has never ached for a place, never thought a place could ache for a person, but he wonders if the planet had been waiting with bated breath for Taehyung to come home too.

He gets it. 

“What do you think?” Taehyung asks, voice soft, and Jeongguk’s brain short circuits, because Taehyung really needed to be more specific, because the question gives Jeongguk’s mind permission to explore the depths of his thoughts, not related to the question at hand. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

Jeongguk exhales, thinks of everything he shouldn’t say.

‘Yes ’ is a start, and Jeongguk would be telling the truth, but for some reason, he doesn’t think he and Taehyung are talking about the same thing. 

“It’s very blue,” Jeongguk points out eloquently, and he’s grateful when Taehyung doesn’t seem offended, laughing, but nodding all the same.

Because really, they’d said the same thing. 

“Is that the only word you can think of?”

Jeongguk doesn’t know much about Earth, probably knows even less about Taehyung, but he can’t help but think that he wouldn’t mind finding out. That blue isn’t so bad, even if he doesn’t know what it means. He glances at Taehyung, and realises that he’s holding his breath, his chest tight for some reason. He can think of other words, but none that are relevant right now.

“There’s nothing wrong with blue.”

Beautiful and blue, something like synonyms, different but the same, and Jeongguk can’t explain it, but Taehyung doesn’t ask him too. Because he doesn’t need him to. Former to latter, something like land to sea, something like love to-

“How about ‘Home’?” 

Jeongguk thinks about it, and Taehyung sighs again, tapping on the glass in front of him, trying to make cracks form so he can reach his hand through the glass and hold home in his palms. Jeongguk looks at Taehyung and wishes he could do the same.

“That works.”

And Taehyung smiles. 

“I should probably give you this back before we land, huh?” Taehyung says, and it takes Jeongguk a moment to realise what he’s referring to, looking down to see his badge on Taehyung’s shirt. 

He’d forgotten about that bet until now, smiles thinking back of where they were at the time, how much anger he had towards Taehyung. Now he just see’s gold, like everything Taehyung is, everything he represents. He looks up at Earth, looks down at Taehyung, and shakes his head. 

“You can keep it.”

It’s an admission, one that Jeongguk doesn’t have to think about anymore, but Taehyung waits, gives him the chance to take it back. He doesn’t. 

Jeongguk never homesick until he met Kim Taehyung. 

He’d always thought that it must be strange to leave and have somewhere to come back to, to know that there’s something waiting for you when you get back. It must be strange to look down from the stars and ache to go back to what you’re moving away from. And it must be strange to miss, and be missed. He looks at Taehyung, thinks of pushes and pulls, and wonders what it means when the one thing keeping him grounded, also makes him feel like he can touch the stars. 

He has more to say, but doesn’t know where to start. He guesses it doesn’t matter, because Taehyung looks at him, like he already knows. Like he knows that they may have the entire universe around them, but Taehyung is all he can see. 

~

“Haeun is worried about your broken heart.” 

Taehyung had pulled him aside one afternoon, and asked if he could sit in on his next session with Haeun.. She had been quiet lately, more so than usual, and Taehyung finally prized the reason out of her in their last session. Apparently, she was worried about Captain Jeon, and no matter how many times Taehyung had reassured her that her idol was completely fine, she had refused to take his word for it, until she saw that Jeongguk was okay for herself. 

With her parents permission, Jeongguk had been introduced to her one afternoon. The problem was that seeing Jeongguk had made her close up even more, too nervous to even ask the questions that she wanted to, which had led to Taehyung acting as a sort of translator for the two, reccounting the concerns Haeun had expressed previously. Her main concern was related to Jeongguk and his broken heart. 

“I’m feeling much better, Haeun-ssi,” Jeongguk reassures her. “My heart has been put together again.”

She doesn’t seem convinced, fiddling with Tokki’s ears in her lap. She looks like she wants to say something, looking between Taehyung and Jeongguk on the screen curiously.

“Captain Jeon,” She eventually says quietly, and Taehyung glances at Jeongguk in surprise. She never usually warmed up to people this quickly, but then again, she had been talking about Jeongguk constantly since Taehyung had told her about him. “Did Dr Kim fix your broken heart?” 

Taehyung flushes. Why did he have to go for the heart?

“Don’t,” Taehyung murmurs under his breath, so the microphone won’t detect it. 

Jeongguk bites his tongue. 

“Haeun-”

“Yeah, he did,” Jeongguk interrupts, and Haeun giggles.  “Fixed me up, all good and new.”

Taehyung glances at him, sees that Jeongguk is already looking at him, and has to look away. He forces a smile when Haeun starts talking about what she’s been doing that week, nodding at all the right moments. Next to him, Jeongguk nods along too, showing her the emblem on his jacket when he asks to see it, laughing when she gets excited over the gold glimmer. 

Taehyung glances down at the badge of his short, the fraction of Jeongguk that still sits on his lapel, and he thinks that must mean something. Jeongguk says it like he means it. Taehyung just hopes that he does.

~

Earth is series of snapshots

“Ready to see my home?” Taehyung’s hand tightens around his own, and Jeongguk squeezes back.

He exhales.

“Let’s see it.”

“Have you ever been to the moon?” Taehyung asks, gasping when Jeongguk wrinkles his nose in distaste. “In middle school there was a school trip there, but I had laryngitis so I couldn’t go, but people have told me what it’s like.”

“What’s it like?”

“Well it’s a throat infection so it was pretty painful to be honest…” 

“The Moon , Kim.”

Taehyung smirks. 

“I’ve heard it has no atmosphere.”

The first place Taehyung takes him is the sea, and Jeongguk spends the entire boat ride with his head between his legs, Taehyung rubbing his back. He groans when a particularly hard wave crashes into them.

“What was it that you said about Earth having stability?”  He asks later, when the dizziness stops and he’s got both feet back on the ground.

He never thought he would miss it, the feeling of land under his feet, but he guesses you always want what you can’t have. 

Taehyung sighs sadly. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t have been a good pirate, after all,” He pauses. “Stick to space?”

Jeongguk nods. 

“Stick to space.”

Jeongguk finds Haeun sat cross legged on the deck, with his jacket around her shoulders, the Euphoria emblem sitting proudly on the material. She looks up when Jeongguk’s shadow lands on her, face lighting up. Jeongguk is ready for it when she stretches her arms up, sighing exaggeratedly, before picking her up in his arms. She throws her arms around his neck, making Jeongguk catch his jacket when it slips off her shoulders. 

It’s a far cry from when they’d first met, the little girl hiding behind Taehyung’s legs when he’d come from the door, and Jeongguk can’t believe that she’s made so much progress in just a few weeks. She doesn’t know why he squeezes her harder today, holds her longer, but he treasures it all the same, swinging her around when he asks him to.

“I have something for you,” He says, after a few moments of Haeun chatting his ear off, and though she grumbles a little when he sets her down again, she looks up at him in anticipation. 

He crouches down so they’re eye level, and she staers at him wide eyes when he gets something out of his pocket, hiding it in the palm of his hands. She reaches forward to uncurl his fingers, gasping when she sees what’s there. 

He holds it out for her, but to his surprise, she doesn’t take it straight away, uncertain look on her face. 

“I don’t think I would be a good Captain,” She says sadly, and Jeongguk thinks his heart must really break when she says that.

“You would be the best Captain,” Jeongguk says firmly, though Haeun looks unsure. “You’re the strongest, bravest, coolest person I know.”

She shakes her head.  

“I’m not very strong,” She trails off, throwing her arms up helplessly. Jeongguk releases a sigh of relief. He would laugh if Haeun wasn’t so obviously distraught about it.

“It’s not about being strong here,” He reassures her, lightly pinching her arms, making her squeal. “There are some things that even I can’t lift,”

He says it like it’s an anomaly, and she giggles. 

“And it’s not about always being strong here,” He moves her hand to rest gently on the top of her head, smoothing a few flyaway hairs as he does so. “Some days, we just don’t feel right.”

He then he catches one of her hands and presses it against the left side of his own chest, waits until he knows that she can feel his heartbeat.

“If you’re strong here, that’s what’s important.” 

She hesitates. 

“Even if it gets broken?” She asks, and Jeongguk smiles, thinks back to their first conversation.

“Even if it gets broken.”

She grins.

“That’s when it has to be the strongest.” 

They look up to see Taehyung standing above them, and Jeongguk’s breath catches. Jeongguk doesn’t think he’ll ever get over seeing him like this - bathed in sunlight. If he thought he was gold before, it’s nothing compared to this. 

“Gukkie, your heart is beating really fast,” Haeun says suddenly, and Jeongguk flushes, while Taehyung laughs, pats his head sympathetically. 

“Traitor,” He mouths, and Haeun just giggles. She had clearly been spending too much time with Taehyung. 

Jeongguk clears his throat.

“What do you think, Dr Kim? I think Haeun would make a fantastic co-captain of Euphoria.”

Taehyung grins.

“The best.”

He kneels down so he’s the same height as them both too. Jeongguk hands him the item in his hands. The gold captain’s badge is just like Jeongguk’s, but in a smaller size. Though, it’s not like he even wears his own anymore.

Haeun straightens her back, resting one hand on their shoulders to balance, as Taehyung clips it onto her shirt. She looks down at it in awe, before looking back up and throwing her arms around them both.

“I’ll keep an eye on the ship, if you look after my home here,” Jeongguk whispers.

Haeun nods, pressing her grin into his neck. He meets Taehyung’s eye over her head, sees the redness to his cheeks, and can’t help but grin too.

“Your home, huh?” Taehyung asks later, when Haeun had gone home. “I guess Earth really won you over.”

Jeongguk shakes his head. They both know what he meant.

Jeongguk is 16, and thinks he’s never going to feel okay again. 

“What do you call the first man on the moon?”

Jeongguk rolls over, peers through half lidded eyes, and see;s sun kissed skin under the moonlight. He can only think of one word. 

“Lucky.” 

Jeongguk is 19, and doesn’t think he’s going to feel okay again, but accepts it. Taehyung looks down at him, absentmindedly brushing Jeongguk’s fringe back so it’s not covering his face, swiping his thumb across his cheek.

“I don’t think that’s it,” He says, hand dropping when Jeongguk buries his head under the pillow. 

Jeongguk is 27 and thinks that space is dark because it needs to be.

“I think it is.”

How are else are you supposed to see the stars?

The symptoms of space sickness are sometimes mistaken for falling in love. Jeongguk looks down at Earth, feels his chest kick, and knows which one it is.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?” Taehyung asks, reaching out to rub behind Jeongguk’s ear. “Thinking about me?”

He’s joking, but Jeongguk is far too gone, exhaling a shaky laugh, because really, that’s all he ever does; think of Taehyung and think of space, and think of how sometimes they feel like the same thing. 

He’d just got back from a mission to Mars, had trouble staying focused the whole time, and only really felt settled when they were coming back, and he saw Earth appear in front of him.

“Aren't I always?” He admits, too honest for his own good, and Taehyung gives him the sweetest smile, knocks the breath out of him, while outstretching his own hand, brushing his fingers against the younger’s.

It shouldn’t really do much, but Jeongguk’s chest betrays him all the same, heart skipping just because a pretty boy wants to hold his hand.

Wasn’t he always just waiting for Taehyung to crash through the office door and disturb him and wasn’t he always anticipating what the next comment would be to come out of Taehyung’s mouth, wondering if he’d sound better if he caught those words with his mouth? 

Doesn’t he think of the entire universe, and imagine a person?

He moves his hand from the deck, to tug Taehyung closer to him by the waist, the older man ending up on his lap. Jeongguk loves the weight of him there, the way their bodies pressed together. Not even in a sexual way, he just craves the closeness, loves the feeling of Taehyung being the only thing he can see, the only thing he can feel. 

“Like this?” Jeongguk can barely think, but he still nods, one hand on Taehyung’s back, the other pressing into his side. Yeah, he’d thought about Taehyung like this.  

He’s careful when he leans forward, just the smallest tilt of his head. 

“Like this,” Taehyung smiles, fingers uncurling so his hand is cupping the side of Jeongguk’s face protectively. “And like, everything else that comes with this .” 

And then, he closes his eyes, and tips them off the edge of the universe. Or at least, that’s how it feels. Like they’ve been sitting on the edge of something for a while now, and it’s only now that they’re prepared to fall down. It’s something inevitable, like gravity, Jeongguk thinks; to fall for the people that you probably shouldn’t. 

Taehyung melts into him, coaxing Jeongguk to where he wants him, and it doesn’t prove difficult when he lets Taehyung take it so easily.

He leans back, feels Taehyung smiling against his lips, and then he kisses him again, and again. He thinks about how he could probably do this forever, and not get tired of it. 

“I’d like that,” Taehyung murmurs, thumb rubbing Jeongguk’s chin, prompting him to pry his lips apart. “ This , and everything else.”

Jeongguk sighs when he feels Taehyung in his mouth, his hands gripping at the hair at his nape. 

“You’re gonna kill me.” He presses his forehead against Taehyung’s for a moment, the older man humming. 

“Don’t worry. I know CPR.”

Jeongguk groans, attempting to push Taehyung away, stopped by the arm wrapped around his shoulder, keeping him from getting too far. It’s not like Jeongguk was trying particularly hard anyway, hand still resting on Taehyung’s back.

Taehyung latches onto his hand, tugging him a little, and Jeongguk lets himself be pulled forward

“What, you don’t think saving lives is sexy?”

Jeongguk mutters something, and Taehyung, who is definitely close enough to hear him, smirks.

“What was that?”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, huffing. He laughs when Jeongguk tries to chase his lips again, unable to kiss properly because he’s smiling, and Jeongguk leans back to look. He almost wishes he hadn’t, because now he never wants to look away.

“I said, yeah,” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at the shiteating grin on Taehyung’s face.

Taehyung flicks him under the chin, using his other hand to play with Jeongguk’s ear lobe, purposefully ignoring the frown on Jeongguk’s face, until the last possible moment. 

“Don’t pout,” And then more gentle. “Your side, always. Don’t forget it.”

He doesn’t.