Work Text:
Tick. Tock.
The clock ticks down. Constantly. Quietly. A reminder to all that the person with that matching time is out living their life while you live your own. The black ink engraved in the wrists of each human being changes every second. It’s an unnoticeable change when not being watched. It doesn’t bother the person it’s engraved in. It just is.
The time displayed on your skin signifies the exact moment you speak with your soulmate. It’s said that when you finally do, the clock disappears and a name takes it’s place, burning it’s way into the skin for an uncomfortable five seconds until it’s embedded and permanent. The fire coursing through your veins a sure sign that they are the one.
Tick. Tock.
Yoongi was told that his clock remained without a time for a little under one year. Then it appeared one day, numbers slowly counting down, signifying the birth of his soulmate. That is the only thing Yoongi knows about his soulmate.
So he goes on living. He struggles his way through high school. Deciding to opt out of college, he goes straight to the military, wanting to serve his time as quickly and efficiently as possible. When he comes out three years later, he decides to start his own business.
During his first year in the military, he had quite a bit of free time, not going into town or visiting his parents when allowed. So he drew. His comrades bought him sketchbooks and pencils when they stumbled across his scribbles on crumpled newspapers, blotched with cheap ink bleeding through the pages.
His second year in the military, he sees an American soldier sporting a rather artistic tattoo and it strikes a chord in him. So he starts playing with the idea of tattoos and creating them. He creates several, a wide variety. From the typical heart to an elaborate dragon with angry flames bellowing from it’s nostrils, each scale strategically placed with a purpose.
It was his third and final year in the military, only three months left of service, that he decided to become a tattoo artist. He had stockpiled his creations and kept them safe. Once he was released, he would carefully trace over the thin pencil marks with a quality ink pen and place them in binders for his future customers’ viewing pleasure.
And that is what Min Yoongi does. Two months after reentering society, he takes all of the money he saved from doing part time jobs during high school and buys a place and equipment. He is the proud and successful owner of The Inked Dragon.
Tick. Tock.
Jung Hoseok had gone to college right after high school. His diligence and parent’s pressure helped him place in a prestigious college. He pursued education, always having had a soft spot for young children and their innocent developing minds. He was made for a job dealing with children, having always been a people person.
He has a certificate with the Red Cross training, able to react in any situation kids would end up in. So here is, more than certified, running his own daycare, Child’s Play. At first he was going to teach elementary students, but his aunt passed away and he decided to take over her child service business.
He plans to go to military and serve once he’s found his soulmate. Judging by the time displayed on his wrist, he doesn’t have too much longer to wait.
Hoseok smiles at the numbers ticking by on his left wrist. He’s distracted only when a small hand fists at the smock he wears.
Tick. Tock.
“Namjoon, anymore tatts and Seokjin is gonna shit a cow.” Yoongi slurs, Daegu accent on fire. His military friend, Namjoon, simply laughs, hand unconsciously rubbing at the tattoo decorating his neck. The first tattoo Yoongi inked on him.
“Actually, he might not when he sees this one.” Namjoon is all dimples, throwing himself onto one of the used leather chairs seated in Yoongi’s shop.
“I refuse to tattoo Seokjin’s face anywhere on your body, Namjoon.” Yoongi is unamused, pulling gloves over his hands as he makes his way over to the chair.
“Darn, there goes that plan.” Yoongi stops walking, eyes wide and disbelieving. “I’m kidding. I just want the first words he said on my arm.” Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief and pulls up a chair next to Namjoon.
“Ah, I get it. Want it so it’s a part of his name?”
“Can you copy the script?” Yoongi lifts Namjoon’s wrist and peers at the named imprinted there. Kim Seokjin is written in deep red with pale pink contrasting behind each stroke until it looks as if it’s fading into Namjoon’s skin. There are small roses littered around the characters and it’s all so fancy, everything like Seokjin.
“Of course.”
The shop is soon filled with the buzz of Yoongi’s gun. He’s got his snapback backwards so it pulls the hair away from his eyes. His brows are furrowed and tongue peeking out, his whole posture exuding pure concentration. When he turns off the gun to switch colors and give Namjoon a short break, the gleeful screams of playing children leak into the shop from the open windows.
Namjoon looks up from his phone. “Wow, what a contrast.”
“You make a remark everytime you’re in here about that. It’s not my fault there’s a day care across the street. As long as they don’t run in here and mess with my shit.” Yoongi muters, looking out the front of the shop to the quaint little building with it’s sickening amount of pastels decorating it.
“You could always relocate.” Namjoon suggests, eyeballing his outstretched arm and the new addition to it. “You have enough funds.”
Yoongi shakes his head, even if Namjoon is right, more than right with all of the awards the city and it’s citizens has given him. But this is his home, his life’s work, even if it hasn’t been long, is practically in the walls of this place. “Nah, it doesn’t bother me as much anymore. Customers don’t really care either. Only you and I don’t give a shit about what you think.”
Namjoon grins up at him. “Love you too, man. I’ll make sure you’re my best man at our wedding.”
Yoongi scoffs, taking his seat once more. “What’s the point of marriage when you two aren’t going to ever leave each other anyway?”
Namjoon’s face is disgustingly soft and cheesy. “It’s not so much about making it legal, it’s just the principle of the thing. I want- There’s this burning desire, Yoongi, deep in my chest. Like, it makes me feel things, want to do things, everything, for him.” Yoongi can see how much even thinking about Seokjin affects Namjoon and he thinks it’s a little ridiculous. “You’ll know soon enough.”
“Two months, six days, four hours, and thirty-nine minutes.” Yoongi says without even so much as sparing his soulmate timer a glance.
Namjoon doesn’t say anything, but he also isn’t fighting the knowing grin that’s splitting his face open.
“All done.” Yoongi announces, breaking the silence between the two. Namjoon snaps out of the light sleep he had slipped into. He looks down at his fresh tattoo and practically glows.
“Seokjin, he’ll love it. Thanks man. I really owe you for this one. Money won’t even be able to cover how much this means to me.” Namjoon shifts and removes himself from the chair, leaving his imprint molded into the poor thing.
“Invite me over for one of Seokjin’s dinners and it’ll be settled. Specifically his macaroni casserole. That shit’s the bomb.” Yoongi grins and it’s lazy, thoroughly sterilizing his work space.
“Oh shit, is that the daycare guy?” Namjoon asks. He’s over the by the storefront windows and Yoongi ambles on over to join him.
There’s a guy across the street, shirt off as he wrings it of water. There aren’t any kids, just him and his golden skin, damp with water presumably from the kiddie pool next to him. Namjoon lets out a low whistle, snapping Yoongi out of his daze. Which is probably for the better, because Yoongi feels like his whole body is on fire. It reminds him of when he first jacked off back in middle school.
“Wait till I tell Seokjin that you think the daycare dude is a fine piece of ass.” Yoongi is smirking.
Tick. Tock.
Namjoon waltzes into Yoongi’s shop two months later. Seokjin had loved the tattoo so much he came in the next day with two dishes of macaroni casserole that fed Yoongi for two weeks, it was great.
“How much time?” Namjoon asks Yoongi’s other artist, some rebel kid fresh out of high school by the name of Jungkook.
“Three hours or something like that.”
“And thirteen minutes.” Yoongi pipes up, coming out of the back room with a new design in his hand. Namjoon sees a glimpse of the image and it faintly resembles his tattoo of Seokjin’s first words.
“You nervous? Your whole life is about to change.” Namjoon says, sitting on Yoongi’s work stool.
“Mine didn’t change when I met Jungkook.” Jimin, who had been sitting in a chair getting experimented on by Jungkook tattoo gun, joins in.
“We’ve known since we were in elementary school. We were lucky.” Jungkook says, creating a rather minimalistic design on Jimin’s forearm. “The first thing I said to you was to get your own crayons.”
“Wow, how romantic.” Yoongi sounds utterly unimpressed. But Jimin is laughing and it’s kind of cute, but Yoongi has always been a softie to that kid.
“It is, especially when for our anniversary this year, he gave me a pack of crayons, saying I’m brighter than any of the crayons.” And then the gun is lifted away so Jungkook and smack him against the shoulder, pink littering his cheeks.
“You don’t have to tell them that shit. It’s for you only.” Jungkook adds quietly, but not enough because the two oldest are bursting out in hysterics.
“Get ready to be teased for the rest of your life.” Namjoon announces.
Yoongi finds himself smiling, relaxing with his mind away from his impending destiny scheduled to happen only a couple hours away.
It’s only when the little bell chimes above the doorway does he notice it’s almost time.
His three ‘guests’ are still mingling around the shop so he steels himself for the most embarrassing moment of his life that will undoubtedly stick with him for the rest of his life.
Yoongi looks up at the customer, his soulmate by the way his wrists timer is ticking down the seconds. He decides he’ll be the first one to say something, as fate will have it.
“Hi.” It comes out breathy and utterly lame, but honestly, can anyone blame him. This guy is gorgeous. His hair looks beyond silky and his skin is dark and gorgeous and marred with only a few acne scars but Yoongi thinks he’s perfect.
Yoongi’s wrist jolts, the burning through his veins alerting him that, holy shit this is it, this is him. The other guy realizes it too, quickly looking down at his wrist.
“Min Yoongi.” He tests the waters and wow that voice is like melted butter. Yoongi distantly is aware that there are three other (rather smug) onlookers watching the scene, but he doesn’t even care at this point.
With a glance down at his own wrist, dark green shades form a name that he’ll be saying for the rest of his life. “Jung Hoseok.” He whispers and he feels so cheesy yet so whole. The guy in front of him, Hoseok, his soulmate, is tearing up and Yoongi feels compelled to hold him close so he does.
The hug is perfect, made for them, for each other. They slot together, two pieces of puzzle lost from each other finally finding their way back home and this is it. This is their home. Yoongi holds him so tight, pressing his nose into Hoseok’s neck and just inhaling the scent of his soulmate, trying to learn him without words. Trying to engrave as much as possible about him in his mind as quickly as he can.
“It’s really you.” He whispers into Yoongi’s ear and it does things to him. “I’ve been working across the street from my soulmate this whole damn time.”
“Daycare guy?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts them.
“Hot abs guy?” Comes from Namjoon.
“No shit.” And that’s Seokjin, when the hell did he get there?
“I should have come to get a tattoo a long time ago.” Hoseok laughs and Yoongi feels like the sun is in the room with him and it’s so bright to look directly at it but he’s drawn to it.
“If it makes you feel any better, he oggled over your shirtless body once.” Namjoon pipes up from somewhere behind the two.
Hoseok blushes and it’s absolutely adorable and should be illegal. Yoongi takes his face into his hands and pulls him forward for a kiss. He doesn’t care if it’s deemed a bit premature, it’s his soulmate for fuck’s sake.
It doesn’t seem as if Hoseok cares either. He kisses back with a thousand feelings packed into the connection of two pairs of lips.
“What a pair. A tattoo artist covered in ink from his chest down, paired with a daycare owner that has owns a pink building.” Jimin says. “Fate is a funny thing.”
“No shit.” Seokjin says, still in disbelief.
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