Archive of Our Own ^beta

The overhead speakers crackle to life, a screaming noise like that of metal twisting, and Yoongi is nearly excited, nearly hopeful before a familiar robotic voice sounds around his ears.

"Engines offline. Core is now at Seventy Degrees Celsius. Ship will break the Sun's atmosphere in Seven Earth days."

Yoongi sighs, head resting against the main console, reaching out to pull on a knob that doesn't work; the one that controls the steering, that could have them floating aimlessly in the right direction.

He wonders if Seokjin is listening to the message too, somewhere in their ship, but he doesn't bother getting up to look, doesn't bother using the intercom to call him.

Their conversation would be stunted away, repeated words of maybe they'll hear us this time and you know, seokjin hyung, at least the sun looks prettier up close, they never lied.

Yoongi doesn't know if Seokjin appreciates the second kind, the muted humour thrown into the air while they both fight for breath knowing that the end may be coming. And Seokjin, he's been trying, but he's no mechanic, and his limited knowledge of anything that isn't piloting helps none.

Yet Yoongi knows Seokjin is probably in the engine room trying to fix what's broken, bits and pieces of how left behind by their actual mechanic, by their crew that's no more. Yoongi wishes he had the motivation to try, but he believes there's a difference in trying until the end, and trying at something he knows won't work.

They're not pretty falling stars, exploding at the right moment to change a life, they're a hunk of dead metal, headed right for the end.

They've on this ship for a long time -- two years at least -- though sometimes Yoongi forgets exactly, forgets when they left Earth. He wonders what it's like to put feet on solid ground, wonders what it's like to eat non replicated food; home cooked meals and warm drinks.

It had been a routine flight at first. Go to the Snow regions for a typical delivery and return, a four month journey at most. But then they'd gone off grid, the first malfunction of many with their navigation systems failing.

Being lost in space, it isn't as glamorous as it is in the movies. There's been memories, and there have been good points, but most of Yoongi's favourite memories are the ones before they'd left, with Seokjin in flying academy.

And now, here they are, just the two of them in a broken ship after colliding with an asteroid and sent on a crash course to a sun star of all things. Yoongi had often dreamed of situations like these; not as a want but as a 'what if', and in each one he hadn't been as useless as he's been.

One is always a hero in their dreams, and perhaps it's a good thing dreams don't extend to real life, because if there's one thing Yoongi is not, it's a hero.

"Did we hear anything yet?" Seokjin asks as he appears in the console room, looking well rested but tense, nails scratching at his arms and eyes just the tiniest bit wild.

"You would have heard it, if we had," Yoongi says in a tired voice, doesn't move from where he's draped over the console like a sleeping cat, head tucked into his arms. "And I would have woken you up happily."

"There's always hope," Seokjin says in response, sitting down next to Yoongi to poke at his arm, to sigh and probably flutter his eyelashes as he does so. "This isn't an empty sector you know, the planet we were just on--"

"Had a lot of incoming and outgoing ships, I know," Yoongi sighs into his arm, voice muffled and husky from lack of sleep. "And are any of them going to go this close to a sun star? I doubt it."

"They may pass by out of orbit but our distress signal is loud," Seokjin says, and it's comforting nearly, the softness of his voice. "And the engine, it made a noise yesterday."

"It was probably about to explode," Yoongi mutters, and he can't help but ... be himself when he's losing hope moment by moment. "What would better, the sun star or us, little tiny things like floating bits of dust in space?"

"You make it sound so poetic," Seokjin says, and his laugh is weak. He's still trying so hard, and it hurts, because Yoongi is the one who smiles and makes the weird faces to make things better.

But of course, in their situation things are unlikely to get better.

And Yoongi, he feels guilty when he finally looks up to see the bags under Seokjin's eyes, and the way his hands shake as the speakers crackle, monotone voice making it's morning call.

"Engines offline. Core is now at Eighty Degrees Celsius. Ship will break the Sun's atmosphere in Six Earth days."

"I want to--" Seokjin speaks above the screech of the intercom as it shuts down, struggles to work with the rest of their ship deteriorating, the damaged Butterfly on her last journey towards an end in fire. "I want to send our crew out today."

"Is it safe?" Yoongi asks, and it's hard to sound gentle when he's usually anything but. "Our oxygen can only last for so long without regeneration."

"What does it matter if it runs out," Seokjin says sullenly, and it hurts because he was trying, was so positive just moments ago. "We're going to die anyways."

"No, we're not,' Yoongi says gruffly, and it's different, him being the hopeful one, but he needs to keep things light, to keep them on their feet. If Seokjin loses hope that means there is no hope, and Yoongi doesn't know if he can handle the loss of light in his best friend's eyes. "We can't die, we still haven't seen the Snowy planet, and that's your dream."

"It is," Seokjin says with a wistful smile, and it's the one Yoongi likes seeing, the real Seokjin smile. "I want to see the sun shine pink as it touches the snow, just like our teacher told us."

"You will," Yoongi says, and he hits Seokjin's arm playfully, his own weakened smile appearing. "Once we get out of this mess."

"And we will, won't we?" Seokjin hums, and there's always something playfully soft about the way he grins at Yoongi, like they're the only two in the world. It's comforting when it really is just the two of them, when things are ending and yet, maybe not really.

"Engines offline. Core is now at Eighty-five Degrees Celsius. Ship will break the Sun's atmosphere in Five Earth days."

The airlocks keep.

It's safe, as they bundle their past into capsules and set them free, watching them twist and turn and float, a space burial that makes Yoongi sick to his stomach. Seokjin's hands shake, and Yoongi aches to hold them still, but he knows that it isn't the time, isn't the place for such things, stubborn even in the face of death, lines that can't be crossed.

There's a time, Yoongi thinks, for everything, but he wonders now if he should make the time and place all of their little pieces together; just in case things don't work, just in case the hope that he clings to really is leaving.

And Seokjin, he trembles still, but smiles as he heads to the engine room. Maybe Yoongi will join him tomorrow; they've spent more time apart than together since the incident, since this started.

Yoongi misses him, in a way, which is dumb because Seokjin is right there, but he's not because he's tense and distant and trying too hard. And Yoongi, he's not the greatest with feelings, always awkward at expressing himself; Seokjin, he's better at it but just as awkward, soft and sincere with that teasing side, the self assurance in place of true confidence.

For now, the console makes a good resting place.

Yoongi doesn't go to the engine room.

Instead, he wanders the hallways of the intact part of the ship, drags his fingers along the walls and feels the metal, cool and smooth beneath his fingertips. He'd seen Seokjin earlier, passed him a container of whatever the replicator decided to create, choices long broken.

It had been awkward, tense and Yoongi still isn't sure what's wrong; why would Seokjin be like with him of all people. Yoongi worries too, because they need to keep with each other, need to live their last moments without regrets or fears, even if they get rescued.

When they get rescued.

But Seokjin, he's hiding. Yoongi can't tell if it's from him, or from their situation, if he's scared or lonely. It scares Yoongi, makes him pace, stress. He can't tell what time of day it is anymore, not after days of floating without their systems online.

The speakers crackle above Yoongi's head, distracting him from his thoughts and he leaps backwards, presses against the wall when the metal screams. But then he remembers, waits for the woman's soft aluminum voice.

"Engines offline. Core is at Eighty-five Degrees Celsius. Ship will break the Sun's atmosphere in Four Earth days."

Yoongi hates her.

The engine room is cold.

It's dark too, save from the tiny corner of light, the self generated lantern that sits near Seokjin as he stares at the engine hub, as he frowns over Jeongguk's manuals, the messy scrawl of notes and information.

He doesn't notice Yoongi at first, just continues staring, eyes the tiniest bit glassy, lips parted.

"Staring at won't fix it," Yoongi says gently, and he almost flinches when Seokjin startles, when he whips his head to face Yoongi as if waking up from a sleep. And perhaps he was sleeping while sitting, eyes blinking rapidly and breathing quick.

"Engine failure is fixable," Seokjin insists, and he has that determined look, though tired, weary, mental exhaustion apparent. Yoongi knows it's not fixable. It's too far gone. Seokjin still tries though, a way of coping, a desperation that shows through in the way he still shakes.

"We should talk," Yoongi says, and he cringes at how hoarse his voice sounds, his own lack of sleep, lack speech noticeable in the dim, flickering light of the dying bulb in Seokjin's lantern. "Cheer up until the signal comes, until a ship finds us."

"We have four days left," Seokjin says hollowly, and he does smile at Yoongi, slides from the engine console to the floor where he crosses his legs, looks at Yoongi unexpectedly. "What do you want to talk about?"

Yoongi hesitates, looks intently at Seokjin's own hesitance, something about his posture saying I just want to be alone. "Do you not want me here?" Yoongi blurts out, and for once he curses his straightforwardness, his habit of saying his mind honestly, too honestly.

"I-- I do want you here," Seokjin insists, and there's a flare in his eyes, a slight rise to his voice. He's still got his fight, his challenging and yet gentle self showing through. It comforts Yoongi. "It's just been hard," Seokjin admits, tugging at the sleeves of his uniform. Yoongi wonders when the last time they had clean uniforms was; the days mold together, even with the voice counting down their death.

And Seokjin, he's beautiful; reminds Yoongi of pine trees and crunching snow underfoot and the feeling of home.

"Seokjin do you remember that old basketball court? The one a few blocks from our training facility?" Yoongi asks, and it's sudden, a thought seeping into his mind, hazy images and bright sunlight.

"Hmm," Seokjin nods, is quiet and attentive as he watches Yoongi carefully, as if unsure of where this is going, why he's bringing it up at such a time, in such a place.

"And that one kid who would always join us and he was better than me and I hated him?" Yoongi laughs now, and he can see the images clearer, can see Seokjin sitting off to the side -- laughing -- as Yoongi fights the steam that pours from his ears. "Do you remember how we would always go to that one cafe -- the cute one that had those milkshakes you liked?"

"When you tried that mocha drink and started coughing and managed to dump the whole drink on the ground," Seokjin remembers, and he laughs. It's a real laugh, one that startles Yoongi for a moment, eyes a little glossy. Yoongi smiles instead, crinkles his eyes and does that thing where he knows he looks cute.

Distractions.

"What's your favourite memory?" Yoongi asks, and there's an edge to his voice, never the voice of a captain, not with Seokjin.

"Right before we left," Seokjin says with a sad smile. "When it snowed and you told me not to miss the snow because we would see it again soon on our mission."

"The day I played for that loud kid that wanted to dance," Yoongi smiles at the memory, remembers the excited boy with his cheeks and his smile, wanting to dance while Yoongi played, fingers on keys not something he usually does, but enjoys greatly. "You brought me a hot chocolate, I remember."

"And you were stubborn and whined that it was too hot," Seokjin laughs. "I remember I went into a speech about the merits of hot drinks and you told me you would send me outside and shove me in the snow."

"It's a good thing I was far too lazy," Yoongi smirks, and he's leaning against the all, feeling the way his bones ache in the too high temperature of the engine room.

"Or too nice," Seokjin says teasingly, and yet his voice seems too soft, too serious. Leave it to Seokjin to make everything just that.

"Am I?" Yoongi asks, and he suddenly feels too tired, too spent, flopping down into Seokjin's lap like he always used to do before Seokjin became distant.

"You're the nicest person I know," Seokjin says with a nod, and it looks funny upside down.

"You must not know a lot of nice people," Yoongi says seriously. He knows he can be too blunt, too off by himself, sometimes bordering on mean. He's nowhere near nice.

"I know a lot of nice people true," Seokjin says, and his hand falls to Yoongi's hair, something Yoongi permits only because it's Seokjin, only because it's his best friend. "But I don't know them as well as i know you."

"What's that supposed to mean," Yoongi mumbles, and he's so close to just falling asleep, passing out on top of Seokjin, but Seokjin is gently pushing him off to rise to his feet.

"We should eat," Seokjin says in place of an answer, and he's got that far away look again, the one that makes him look like he's not saying something.

And he doesn’t say anything, at least not for the rest of the day.

"Engines offline. Core is at Ninety Degrees Celsius. Ship will break the Sun's atmosphere in Three Earth days."

Yoongi wakes up to the familiar scraping of metal as the speakers come to life, shaking, sweating.

Nightmares, of the screaming, the flames, the ship as it tore itself in half to disappear into the vastness of space. He hasn't gotten enough sleep, eyelids drooping and palms sweating with more than just fear.

Three days.

They're close to the sun star now, and Yoongi can feel it's warmth as if he were entering a sauna. It's a good thing the replicators can still recycle water.

"Your hair is fading," A voice says from his left, a soft one that has Yoongi jolting, sitting up straight. Seokjin never comes into the main console room anymore.

"Of course it's fading," Yoongi says irritably, batting Seokjin's hand away from where he's got his fingers resting on Yoongi's head. "Don't exactly got proper hair dye when we're dying do we?"

"We only have three days left," Seokjin says, and Yoongi turns to properly look at him, eyebrows shooting up and eyes softening. Seokjin looks upset, and his hands are shaking again, the way that makes Yoongi want to hold them.

"Someone will come," Yoongi says stubbornly. "Someone will come."

"If we get out of here," Seokjin says, and he does sound the tiniest bit hopeful, patting Yoongi's hair again. "Can you dye it green?"

"That's a terrible colour," Yoongi mutters, but Seokjin just giggles and this gets his attention because it's a nervous giggle, the same one he uses when he's trying very hard not to cry. "Are you okay?" Yoongi asks, and he's trying to sound gentle for once, soft and unsure.

"No," Seokjin says truthfully, and he's hanging his head. "I haven't been for a while."

"I'm sorry," Yoongi says, and he's sincere, nervous. I've been pushing you to be cheerful when our situation is nowhere near it and--"

"No it's not that," Seokjin says, and he licks his lips, glances around the console room as if he's never seen it before, eyes too intent on every machine, every button. "I need to tell you something, if we're going to die."

"It's okay," Yoongi says reassuringly. "I know you cheated off my entrance exam."

And it stings a little when all Seokjin can give him is a weak smile.

"Yoongi I like you," Seokjin blurts out. He's holding Yoongi's hands in his own, and now Yoongi can see them shake. He doesn't like it.

"I like you too," Yoongi says, blinking in confusion. He'd always thought that bit was obvious.

"No I don't mean like that--" Seokjin stammers, and Yoongi hates this, wonders where confident, expensive Seokjin from the upper side of the complex had gone.

"I mean it like that," Yoongi says casually, and he's not sure why he isn't freaking out. Perhaps it's because of the timing, and perhaps it's because that's just Yoongi. "Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

Seokjin nods, and it's like he's lost a few years of age, eyes crinkling as the tears threaten to fall, but don't. "I wasn't sure, you know," He says shakily. Yoongi can feel his hands tremble, so he does what he's been wanting to; he stills them. "Whether you'd hate me or resent me for telling you now, but I had to because three days and we're not getting rescued. You know we aren't."

"There's always hope," Yoongi says, but he takes a chance anyways, leans forward and kisses Seokjin lightly on the cheek. "We'll be found."

Nothing really changes.

They're still the same; tired, scared, a little helpless. But Seokjin isn't distant, and when he isn't distant he clings. So it's not surprising when he falls asleep with Yoongi for once, head beside his on the strangely comforting console board.

The crackle of the speakers doesn't startle Yoongi this time, and he's staring off into space -- literally -- before Seokjin comes flying into the room, panting. Yoongi isn't sure when Seokjin had left the room, and he's finally waking up completely, blinking sleepily.

"We're saved," Seokjin breathes, and he really does cry, sitting himself right in Yoongi's lap.

Yoongi's about to ask why, about to say something in his confusion when the speakers crackle again, something that has never happened before; a repeat message.

"This is captain Namjoon of the SS Snowpoint, we've received your distress signal and have your ship in sight. We can arrive within the hour. How many passengers alive?"

And Yoongi is scrambling, pressing the buttons that will send out a number -- 2 -- and a thank you.

He doesn't cry, not until he looks out the window to see a large grey ship in the distance, sleek and new as it veers carefully near the sun star in the direction of their own sad, broken Earth ship.

"Seokjin," Yoongi says in a scratchy voice. "They're from the Snowy Regions. We can complete our mission."

"I can see snow?" Seokjin asks, and there's something youthful about his voice, childishly hopeful.

They'll have to talk about yesterday.

The speakers crackle again, the sound of metal, of the machine struggling no longer bothering Yoongi as he collapses backwards onto the console, as Seokjin leans around him to marvel at the Snowpoint ship. He doesn't even care that it's too hot, that Seokjin's weiht and body heat are causing him to feel ill.

"Engines offline. Core is at One-Hundred Degrees Celsius. Ship will break the Sun's atmosphere in Two Earth days."

They're going home.

And it won't be home really, but there'll be solid ground, warmth and real food. Most of all, Seokjin's hands will no longer shake, and Yoongi's promise -- Don't miss the snow, hyung, we'll see it soon -- won't be broken.

He's smiling when the captain of the Snowpoint and his commanding officer board the ship, when him and Seokjin are put into a smaller support vessel and brought away; away from the sun star, and their broken past and towards safety.

In any other situation, Yoongi would find the melancholy, the darkness and silence of Snowpoint sorrowful.

Today however, he's watching Seokjin walk through the snow happily, like a small child on a snow day, and he can hear in the silence, can hear it crunch beneath his feet, can hear Seokjin laugh, not his nervous giggle, but a real one.

"I don't know how long it'll be until we can find you a ship heading to Earth, but you're welcome to stay here as long as you want," Namjoon tells Yoongi as they sit outside, chilled but not cold; the atmosphere is favourable here, calming.

"We've been away for two years," Yoongi says with a kind of sad smile. "What's another few months?"

Yoongi, he allows himself to play too, running up beside Seokjin, away from the others, the crew of the Snowpoint they'd gotten quickly attached to.

"Should we talk about it?" Seokjin asks as Yoongi walks up to him, and he's looking down at him with wondering eyes.

"Do you want to?"

"Not really."

"Then we won't," Yoongi says, and he's grinning when he pushes Seokjin into the snow. "There," He says cheerfully, smirking as Seokjin sputters. "Not so nice after all am I?"

And Seokjin, he just smiles cryptically.