Archive of Our Own

***

beautiful you — later & the chief 

      Kim Seokjin has always known that he is not a lucky guy. 

You know, there are people for whom, well, everything goes swimmingly in life. They are born in love, affection and sincere care, grow up finding sincere and loyal friends, study excellently, not because they cram and try hard, without closing their eyes at night, but simply because it comes easy to them. They are talented and everything works out for them, and even if something goes wrong, it does not particularly affect their life, they cope and go on to conquer new heights. They are liked and loved. They marry good people and create the same kind of family that only causes admiration and envy in others with its perfection.

       That’s it. And Seokjin wasn’t that kind of person.

It's not that he had it all bad. He grew up in a good family, where sometimes there were quarrels and scandals, he had a couple of friends at school, his studies were not that hard, but he had to make a lot of effort, he did not shine in sports and was not endowed with any special talents. He often found himself in situations from which people usually find a way out and stay “dry”, but it did not work out that way for him. It got a little easier at university, but not much. At work he was not bad either, even liked it, but he did not stand out. About love… Well, it was not particularly smooth too.

      Overall, not the universe’s favorite, but not a punching bag either. Just an ordinary person who sometimes had bad luck.

      Or to make it clear a very bad luck.

      Otherwise there was no other explanation for how he’d fallen for the wrong person.

Because Jeon Jungkook was exactly that very guy who was drowning in luck, to whom everyone turns in misunderstanding, resentment, delight, envy and, sometimes, even anger from the injustice of life.

      Because he had caught a golden fish in some of his lives for damn sure. Great fit, sinfully handsome, awesome personality, kind-hearted, witty, funny, talented… Should we keep going?

      He had it all. 

      A golden child with a golden life. He was loved by his classmates and teachers at school, respected at university and loved at work. He was involved in boxing, taekwondo, drawing, singing, dancing, cooking, volunteering and many other things with remarkable ease. It was as if whatever he decided to touch, he automatically succeeded.

Seokjin'd met him at one of the university parties, where he'd been dragged by friends he'd been in the same group with. Hoseok was the soul of any company and made acquaintances at the snap of his fingers, so it wasn't hard for him to find himself at one of these events — everyone called him by himself. Youngi was the complete opposite of him — quiet and always calm as a boa constrictor, the blond just went along with him, because they had been friends since the beginning of the first year.

      Kim did really try his best to resist, but eventually broke under the weight of those puppy-dog eyes and pleading to spend time together.

      Just for the record, they never did end up spending time together that evening. Hoseok disappeared into a crowd of his own friends, Yoongi clung to a drinking Namjoon (who was still a stranger to the brunette at that point), and Seokjin decided to make himself useful in the kitchen, where other partygoers occasionally wandered in to “refuel.”

      That’s when he saw him.

      Medium-length, dark curly hair. A loose white T-shirt that didn’t cling to the body, but still hinted at something worth noticing underneath. Strong arms, one completely covered in tattoos all the way down to the fingertips. Loose, dark pants. And... the face. Calm, even melancholic expression, a straight, slightly unusually prominent nose, neat lips adorned with a ring on one side, straight eyebrows, and deep, dark eyes with a soft glimmer in them.

      Handsome.

      Extremely handsome.

      Seokjin tried not to stare for too long and was just about to look away when the guy turned his gaze toward him, grabbing a bottle of some beer from the counter. He smiled warmly, instantly looking a couple of years younger, thanks to the soft wrinkles that appeared around his eyes like finely spun threads of a spider’s web.

      — Hey, — his voice calm, low, and so pleasant it sent shivers down Seokjin’s spine.

      — Hey, — the brunette exhaled softly, blinking a few times.

      — New here? — the guy tilted his head slightly, studying him with interest. — Haven’t seen you around before, though I’m not often part of... this kind of crowd myself.

      Seokjin quickly darted his eyes downward before trying to look a little more relaxed. — Yeah, um... my friends dragged me here. Said we should spend some time together.

      The brunette looked around, raising an eyebrow questioningly. — Where are they, then?

      — Clearly spending time with someone who’s not me, — Seokjin grumbled and took a sip from his cup, which made the other chuckle.

      — I’m Jeongkook, — Seokjin didn’t even notice how the guy had gotten closer, now extending a hand in greeting. — Second year, graphic design.

      — Seokjin, — he replied a little awkwardly, shaking the offered hand and finding himself trapped in the beautiful, tattooed fingers. — Third year, marketing.

      Jeongkook let his fingers linger on his hand for just a second or two longer than necessary and then broke into a wide, toothy grin, suddenly looking like an adorable bunny. — You’ve got pretty fingers, hyung.

       From that moment on, Seokjin didn’t see him again for a couple of months. And he didn’t really think about him either. Except for one night, when the image of that warm, kind smile briefly flickered in his mind before sleep.

      And then, it just happened that their group began to form. Their group, which, for many years, became a pillar of support and safety for each of them, and in a single moment, a downfall for Seokjin.

Their connection came together like a puzzle, slowly building a bigger picture with more and more pieces.

At first, it was just the three of them, friends from the Faculty of Arts with Hoseok and Youngi. Then one day, Min showed up at their favorite little restaurant with Namjoon, a guy he was working with on music for a joint project. Sometime later, Hoseok brought along Jimin — a sweet, light-hearted guy with ash-blond hair, who was both incredibly charming and, as it turned out, a talented dancer in Jeon's group. Through him, Jimin introduced Taehyung. Tae was the embodiment of vibrant chaos — loud, outgoing, playful, bold, and full of energy. He was studying at the Faculty of Design.

About a month later, during one of the regular hangouts at Kim’s place — Seokjin himself wasn’t even sure how it happened, but somehow his apartment had become the usual gathering spot for this growing bunch of students — Taehyung brought along Jeongkook.

The guy introduced himself easily, radiating warmth and friendliness. And as his gaze lingered just a little longer than necessary on a familiar brunette. He gave him a smile — that same rabbit-like smile they now knew all too well.

just say i love him — timi yuro

      A couple hours later it turned out that he only seemed to be easy.

Jimin and Taehyung took him under their wing, making him one of their own — just as loud, chaotic, and restless as they were. The older members of the group also welcomed him warmly, simply nodding in understanding and, to some extent, with quiet acceptance — now, the chaos of their gatherings consisted of three.

Time passed, and the brunette gradually got used to the fact that the majority of his life was occupied by friends — so different, yet invariably dear and close.

He got used to being pulled in all directions, like strings being woven from him.

      — Hyung, please make kimbap the way you know how! We’re starving!

      — Hyung, you know how much I love that movie! Let’s go to the premiere together!

      — Hyung! It was Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung who broke your favorite plate, not me! You know how unbearable they get when they argue.

      — Hyung, come to my art contest! I can’t win without you.

      — Hyung, we won’t survive without your signature chocolate cookies!

      — Hyung, let’s have movie night at your place again. We’re so used to your home — it’s always so cozy there.

      And so on, and so forth.

      The most interesting thing was that, though he couldn’t say no to any of them, Jungkook became the one he found himself drifting toward more and more over time — to his future regret, without even noticing it.

That pleading puppy-dog look when he needed something, the toothy smile with crinkles around the eyes, the plaintive expression, the tight, suffocating hugs, the tousled face marked by pillow creases and messy hair when he’d fall asleep in Kim’s guest room, the bright, sparkling laughter, the charming habit of wrinkling his nose, tattooed fingers running through the brunette’s hair during movies, the familiar sentimentality at touching moments.

All of this filled Kim’s heart more and more until he realized it was overflowing — with just one person.

It happened one morning, when the brunette, once again was too lazy to go back home and fell asleep right on the older’s living room couch.

A little over ten months had passed since their group was formed, and Kim was already in his fourth year at university. He woke up early on a Saturday morning, wrapped in a fluffy home sweater, and stepped out of his room — only to stumble upon the younger curled up in a ball. Covered by his own warm blanket, he softly snored, squinting occasionally at the rays of the waking sun. He looked so adorable that the brunette’s heart clenched with aching tenderness.

Kim silently approached and bent down to gently brush away the fringe that had fallen over his face — and froze, studying the peaceful sleeping expression.

His steady heartbeat made a quiet thump, then began to quicken, faster and faster.

The younger’s soft breathing brushed against his fingers, and once again, his nose scrunched up like an accordion.

      Cutie. Charming. Familiar. Dear. Beloved. 

      His mind stopped its processing, and the brown-haired almost choked from the fact that his breath was taken away by the burning understanding.

      Having seemed so calm and reserved at first, handsome, desired by many and kind to everyone, in essence still sometimes such a child that he became one of the closest people he let into his life, restless and touching, stubborn and demanding, he liked him.

      Seokjin was so into him.

      He was so in love with one of his dearest friends.

      For fucks sake…

The brown-haired has abruptly removed his hand, straightened up and walked away a few steps, and his facial expression took on a grimace of fear and impending pain, as when a doctor announced an inevitable diagnosis.

      It shouldn’t have happened. It had no right to be like this. He shouldn’t have. Because Jeongkook was a sunny golden child.

      Because Jeongkook was the youngest member of the group and they all have taken unspoken responsibility for him though he wasn’t a kid anymore. He was for them.

      Because Jeongkook was so sincere, a bit naive from time to time, gentle and just wonderful with his pure heart.

      Because Jeongkook met, dated and flirted with girls.

      Because Seokjin was the oldest, more mature, nonchalant and responsible.

      Because Seokjin was a guy. 

      Because Seokjin wasn’t a lucky guy at all.

      Because he shouldn’t have fallen for a person he had absolutely no chance with in this life at all.

He didn’t tell anyone about it and trained himself to behave so perfectly that no one could even suspect that anything had changed.

That day, when the brunette woke up after a few hours and habitually rested his head on the older’s shoulder, who was busy making breakfast for them, Seokjin simply gave him a kind smile and sent him off to wash up, hiding the blaze inside behind a mask of everyday carefreeness.

Seokjin learned to live with his feelings, locking them deep inside behind a massive lock and not allowing them to show themselves even a millimeter outside. Days turned into days, weeks into weeks, and months into months. The group gathered more and more often, sometimes just to study or work on their own projects in the familiar friendly atmosphere, leaving the brunette no chance to catch his breath.

Jeongkook remained as cheerful and active as ever, often pestering him with silly requests, jokes, and friendly outings. He dragged him to his contests and performances, made him volunteer, and taught him how to play Mario. The trees changed their clothes just as Jeon changed girlfriends. He often dated someone new, sharing stories with the brunette and sometimes even asking for a piece of advice.

Seokjin always smiled and replied. He always supported and understood. He always ignored the new crack forming in his heart with each moment spent with the younger, letting a thin, painful trickle of blood flow.

And just sometimes, under the cover of night, when trapped in suffocating loneliness, he allowed himself to take off the mask of joy and carefreeness that was glued to his face, quietly choking back tears, biting the corner of his pillow. In those moments, his heart showed its true face — a wounded and torn creature, howling from pain and clawing at his ribcage like a wild beast in captivity. If he showed too much feelings, the next day he would just tell his worried friends that he had been eating instant noodles late at night and binge-watching series again.

      And so, a year and a half passed.

His feelings didn’t fade one bit, but when he graduated from university and got a job at a good company, he could finally breathe a little — now he could often skip group hangouts, citing heavy workload, and, most importantly, no longer had to see the younger inside the university walls.

Everything seemed to be getting better — the younger was dating another girl and often missed their joint evenings, and the brunette, it seemed, started to socialize with colleagues at work, forgetting, at least for a while, the unrequited feelings that tormented his heart.

      But, as they say, it never seems suspicious when everything starts going too well. It means there’s a trap waiting just around the corner, ready to catch you off guard.

      And that’s exactly what happened. Seokjin fell.

      Not into a trap, but into the figure of a smiling brunette with that familiar, dear rabbit-like smile, who, on just one Monday, stepped out of the HR office into his.

      — They took me on an internship in your graphic design department, can you imagine, hyung? — His face seemed to glow with joy overflowing to the brim. — We’ll be working together!

      For. Fucks. Sake.

      Why did someone out there hated Seokjin so freaking much? 

      Seokjin forced out something resembling a smile, utterly confused and already sensing that something terrible, catastrophic, the very end of everything, but most importantly, the end for Seokjin himself, was coming in the near or distant future.

      Unfortunately, Seokjin was not among the lucky ones favored by the universe.

      Unfortunately, he turned out to be more right than ever.

      Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

***

 back to black — amy winehouse

      — Hey, Jin, are you up to the Friday office party, right? — A petite brunette leans against the edge of the guy’s desk, who’s meticulously trying to find a mistake in the monthly report.

Jin lifts his gaze from the papers. The girl has already interrupted him, and he’s lost his train of thought anyway. He looks at her with a slightly tired and annoyed expression. The week has just started, but it feels like the last one never ended. He doesn't want to be rude cause they get along well, even as friends, but his mind is clearly miles away from some party where everyone just shows up to drink for free and gossip under the guise of networking.

      — I don’t think so, — he shakes his head and returns his attention to the papers.

      — Oh, come on, — she leans in closer, — let’s go, huh? Have a little fun. If anyone needs it, it’s definitely you. — She gestures toward him. — Look at you, buried under all that endless paperwork.

      The guy frowns deeper as he finally spots the mistake, grabs a pen, and circles the problem area.

       — You know what? — She leans even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. — I’ve got some top-tier gossip about someone we both seriously can’t stand. — Her brows wiggle mischievously.

       — Nari, I’m not really interested in…

       — And, I heard someone, who makes your poor heart race like crazy, just broke up with his latest girlfriend. — She scoffs, rolling her eyes, finally catching Kim’s cautious attention.

      He throws a quick glance toward the design department, but it’s too far from his desk, and he can barely see anything. Seokjin presses his lips together and stays silent for a moment.

      Surprisingly, the only person who knew about his soft crush on the younger guy was Nari.

It happened by accident — Jin never told her anything. One day, when they had agreed to grab coffee together, he was waiting for her near the company entrance, chatting with Jeongkook. She’d approached so quietly and suddenly that neither of them had noticed her right away. After they said goodbye to the brunette and started walking toward the café, the girl studied his face for a while. Then, once they got their drinks, she blurted it out suddenly and with absolute certainty.

      — You’re in love with him.

      She said it with the same casual tone someone might use to say “the sky is blue.”

      Jin had laughed it off, tried to make a joke of it, even though he went cold inside like Antarctica. But the girl didn’t buy it for a second. Eventually, when he stopped denying it, he gave her a brief explanation and asked her not to tell anyone. She just nodded in understanding.

      — So, what do you say? — The girl is still watching him with a pleading look. — Please, Jinnie, I really don’t want to be stuck alone in that snake pit, and I do want to have some fun.

      Jin sighs quietly and shakes his head in resignation. — Alright.

      — I love you! — The girl lets out a gleeful squeak and plants a quick kiss on his cheek, not noticing that someone else is watching. Someone who had seemed calm at first, but now looks a bit displeased, with a slight frown forming on his face.

      — Hyung, — Seokjin looks up at the unexpectedly annoyed tone of voice and meets the eyes of the frowning younger guy.

       — Kook? — Jin catches a subtle, knowing nod from the girl, who quickly pulls away, throws a dry greeting toward the newcomer, and walks off.

       — Did you need something? — Kim sets aside the papers, ready to hear whatever the brunette came for.

       — Yeah, — the guy nods, still glaring after the retreating girl with clear disapproval. — I never really understood why you hang out with her. — He shrugs and shifts his gaze back to his friend. — She’s... not exactly the nicest person.

       — Nari is my friend, — Jin replies calmly with a shrug. — If you knew her better, you’d think differently.

       The younger one doesn’t respond, still frowning. Then, after a moment, he relaxes his face slightly and speaks in a more neutral tone.

       — I wanted to check about our get-together on Wednesday. You’re still coming, right?

       — Can’t promise. — Jin gives his cluttered desk a tired glance. — I’ve got way too much work piling up.

       — Hyung, we’ve been planning this for ages. — And now his voice has that all-too-familiar tone. Soft, a little pleading. Casually whining. — These days, it’s so hard to get everyone together. We’re all always busy. But we’re almost like family.

       — I know, but… — He’s cut off by the younger one, who tilts his head slightly and looks him straight in the eye.

       — I miss you, hyung. — The gentle honesty in his voice, the quiet sorrow, makes Kim’s heart clench painfully. Yet again losing a battle to the younger, who doesn’t even know there’s a war.

       Jin stares into his clear eyes and exhales in quiet defeat, nodding. — Alright, I’ll come.

Maybe, for someone who’s been quietly and hopelessly in love with Jeongkook for almost two years, that sincere, warm smile on the younger man’s face is enough. Enough to endure the ache of his own feelings one more time, while still playing the role of the happy, unbothered friend.

***

undressed — sombr

The new cozy apartment, decorated in light tones, recently rented by Yoongi and Hoseok, became the place where, on Wednesday, for the first time in two weeks, all the company members gathered.

As Seokjin walked in, he was greeted by calm music playing somewhere in the background, the clattering noises from the kitchen where, most likely, Hoseok and Namjoon were arguing because the former was adamantly forbidding the latter from touching anything that might break, and wild animal-like screams coming from the living room, because apparently the younger guys were having yet another competition of "who can beat whom in virtual car racing."

      Everything is just as usual.

      He closed his eyes and shook his head, taking off his sneakers in the hallway while rustling plastic bags in his hands.

When he entered the living room, he was met with a scene of endless chaos. Jimin, who recently dyed his hair blond, sat cross-legged on the floor, sticking out the tip of his tongue slightly, desperately pressing buttons on his joystick, while Taehyung, sitting to his left, mirrored the pose, furiously operating his device with fingers and simultaneously trying to shove Jeongkook away, who kept poking him with advice on how to control the car.

      Idyllic.

      The brunette only received a brief "Hey, hyung" from the juniors before reaching the kitchen, where Yoongi was calmly watching something on his phone, while the two, as he predicted, were poking fingers at each other, heatedly arguing about something.

      — You think I don’t know who the hell smashed my coffee maker less than a month ago? — shouted Jeon, making an overly dramatic gesture with his hands.

      — I’ve told you a thousand times it was an accident because it was too close to the edge of the countertop, and I just didn’t notice! — the brunette defensively responded.

       — I’ve already cried over the coffee maker, but that’s far from the only thing that’s suffered at the hands of your clumsiness! — Hoseok raised his voice, nearly shouting with indignation at the end.

      — That’s not true! — Kim flinched under his companion’s expressive gaze. — Well, almost not true!

      — You could at least set off the alarm so they’d switch to something else. You’re on your phone anyway. — Seokjin remarked, approaching the blond who looked up from his gadget and gave him a faint smirk.

      — You think I pay attention to their screaming? — Min shrugged indifferently. — I got used to it after the first five minutes.

      Seokjin just shook his head and set the bag with food on the table.

      — Hyung! — Hoseok finally noticed the newcomer and jumped up to hug him. — Haven’t seen you in a while. You’ve lost weight. — He stepped back a couple of centimeters and looked him over from head to toe.

      — I’m glad to see you too, Hobi. — Kim smiled gently, stroking Namjoon’s hair softly in greeting, ruffling it slightly and receiving a warm smile in response before stepping back, pulling out containers from the bags and moving toward the countertop. — How’s the concert prep going?

      — Rehearsals are exhausting the last of my strength. — Jeon sighed desperately, sitting at the table while the brunette’s soft touch on Namjoon’s hair served as a silent hello.

      — Hang in there just a little longer and you’ll be free, — Kim replied, pulling out plates to set the table and warm the food.

      — Did you make all this yourself? — Namjoon raised his eyebrows in surprise, eyeing the amount of homemade food.

      — I know you guys don’t eat anything useful. Especially during exam season and all the work stress. — Seokjin shrugged calmly, placing the first plate in the microwave, then the dish in the oven.

      — Hyung, — Hoseok looked at the elder with a pitying gaze, — you get tired at work too. We’d eventually manage without your cooking, but you didn’t have to put so much effort into this.

      — Please put the cookies on a plate. — Kim ignored the younger’s remark and continued with his tasks. — They should still be warm.

      — You’re just a bless sent from heaven, hyung. — Hoseok opened the bag and took out the baked goods.

      — Someone call these kids to eat. — Seokjin nodded, having quietly set the table before anyone noticed.

The evening went calmly. They dined together, sharing stories from work and study, discussing some funny gossip, filling the space with genuine laughter and family warmth.

      Seokjin caught himself thinking how much he actually missed his friends.

Sitting in the new kitchen space at the same table with six guys so different yet perfectly complementing each other, he realized how much he had longed for them. Since he started working and gradually distanced himself from them, avoiding gatherings, he’d always felt a nagging emptiness inside, growing bigger and making his bed at night and his heart even colder and lonelier.

He had tried so hard to protect himself from a constantly breaking heart that he didn’t notice how he pushed away the people who were also healing him.

After all, no one was to blame that he chose his own friend as the object of his love.

Who, by the way, didn’t look heartbroken after the breakup, which wasn’t discussed at the company, and throughout the evening often cast warm glances in his direction.

Gradually, the guys decided they simply had to drink. At first, it was beer under Taehyung’s story about his difficult scientist boss who rejects every creative approach, cutting everything off at the root. Then wine accompanied Hoseok’s complaints about his team, which just couldn’t coordinate to work synchronously. And finally, tequila — which didn’t leave the youngest untouched, who unexpectedly started pouring his heart out about how decent guys work in his department, some of whom he’d befriended, but one was a total upstart, making the guy want to shake his fists in frustration.

no one noticed — the marías

When tongues loosened and faces flushed under the fifth shot of tequila started sharing their fears and worries, the guys decide to lighten the mood and move to the living room to watch some extraordinary comedy.

Seokjin stays in the kitchen to clean up the mess left after everyone and help the apartment owners avoid tripping over it in the morning. The brunette didn’t drunk much since, after all, it was only midweek, and he still has to get up for work tomorrow.

Lost in thought about upcoming tasks and the pleasant aftertaste of the evening, he doesn’t immediately notice someone else’s presence. Only when he places the last washed plate to dry on the towel near the sink, he feels the gentle touch of strong hands on his waist.

      The hands cautiously slide to his stomach, intertwining in a lock and sending a herd of goosebumps all over his body. Then a firm chest presses to his shoulder blades, and the familiar weight of a dark head settles on his shoulder.

      — I’ll come to you soon, — Seokjin holds his breath, silently begging his insides not to tremble so violently from the flood of emotions. — Just wanted to tidy up.

      — You really have lost a lot of weight, hyung. — A slightly hoarse, muted voice whispers right next to his ear, making him twitch slightly.

      — There’s not always time to eat properly. — The brunette grabs a free towel to keep his hands busy before they start shaking.

      The guy rubs his nose against the collar of his T-shirt, warming the already reddened neck with his breath. — I really missed you, hyung.

      Kim swallows, gripping the towel tighter, and exhales quietly. — I came, just like I promised.

      — You almost stopped coming to our get-togethers. — Sad notes play in the younger’s voice, sinking deeper into Seokjin’s body with every word. — You drifted away more and more when you started working. — The brunette turns his head, burying his nose in the other’s neck. — I work on the same floor as you, but I still hardly see you. — His fingers gently trace the heated skin. — I’m sorry I was often busy myself with all those silly attempts to build relationships, but I really missed you all this time.

      A foolish heart makes one dull beat, then gallops like a racehorse, clearly wanting to break free and fall at the feet of such an open and partly broken voice.

      — Please, hyung, — the guy pleads, squeezing his hands a little tighter and pulling him even closer, leaving no way out for the poor brunette, who seems about to faint from the feelings desperately breaking through the chest he had locked deep inside. — Please don’t drift away like that anymore.

      Seokjin takes a small breath to let oxygen reach his brain, releasing the towel and placing one hand over the tattooed fingers. — Okay.

      The younger stays silent, and they hold that position for a few more moments until Park’s loud laughter echoes from the living room.

Seokjin runs his fingers once more over the locked hands, silently asking to be released. The brunette obeys, slowly unclasping his palms and freeing the elder from his captivity, allowing him to turn around.

The brown-haired looks at the younger, meeting the depth of his dark eyes, reflecting the dim light of the kitchen lamp, and raises his hand, running it over the recently trimmed raven-wing-colored hair.

The younger closes his eyes, surrendering to the gentle gesture, and Seokjin is sure if he were a cat, he’d be purring with pleasure.

      — I don’t want to lose you because you’re one of my closest friends. — Quietly says Jeon and the soft smile that has just played on Seokjin’s lips cracks, turning painful.

      Friend.

      Close friend.

      He withdraws his hand, pulling the younger out of that light calmness, trying to steady his broken voice. — You won’t.

      Apparently, Jeongkook is too drunk to notice the elder’s face now looked shattered, and the painful bitterness had layered itself, blending with his skin as one.

      — Go to the others, I’ll get some air and come soon. — The faint fading smile looks unconvincing, but the brunette just nods and disappears behind the kitchen arch a second later.

      Seokjin runs his palms over his face, drowning a bitter sigh, and heads toward the balcony on the other side of the kitchen.

The door closes behind him with a dull thud, and the fresh night air washes over him, allowing a brief respite.

He notices the city lit by thousands of lights, looking like a canvas woven by a lonely tailor trying to paint his solitude.

      — You haven’t been around for a long time, — a hoarse voice cuts through the balcony’s silence. The brunette flinches slightly, turning his gaze to see the blond calmly standing to his left, smoking a cigarette.

      — You scared me, — Seokjin quietly exhales.

      — It’s not my fault you came here wanting to fall over the balcony railing. — Min shrugs lightly, taking a drag.

      — Just lost in thought, — the brunette says as casually as possible, running his fingers over the metal railings.

They stand quietly for some time in a silence that doesn’t feel uncomfortable. The blond calmly smokes his cigarette, while Kim is watching the few cars passing through the quiet night streets.

Seokjin never thought they’d be so alike. Throughout their friendship, they had learned to understand each other well and knew perfectly when one needed the other.

At first, it seemed pointless because Min was never outgoing, and Kim couldn’t understand him, nor tried to.

The first one they both befriended and started talking to was Hoseok. He was bright as the sun, occupying all the space he entered, leaving no chance not to fall under his influence and charm. But later, it turned out the quiet blond and he were like two souls that had known each other for more than one lifetime.

every breath you take — the Police

They didn’t rush to each other to exchange childhood stories or favorite ice cream flavors. They gradually adjusted, trying to find the right angle, then clicked like two pieces of the same puzzle. Simply being nearby and understanding each other without words. It’s like coming home, where it’s warm and calm, a quiet harbor where you feel peace, a serene sleep that grants you strength and energy for the next day.

      — You think you’re good at lying, but you truly suck at it. — The blond’s voice penetrates his consciousness like a pre-dawn fog.

      — What are you about? — The brunette doesn’t even turn to comment on how much he shouldn’t smoke when he hears the lighter spark again.

      — Your eyes, — Min exhales a stream of smoke into the already chilly air. — They speak louder than your words.

      — You’re a born musician, — the brunette weakly smiles.

      — You love him.

      Seokjin snaps his head toward his friend, almost twisting his neck, meeting Min’s calm gaze that had been watching him for some time.

      No.

      Fuck no.

      — Maybe the others didn’t notice, but I’ve been watching you for two years now, and every time you leave carrying your broken heart. — The blond exhales another plume of smoke, never breaking eye contact. — Have you ever thought about telling him?

      Seokjin feels a painful prickling in his eyes and covers them, shaking his head. — I don’t have the right.

He hears his friend’s muffled snort but still doesn’t open his eyes, trying to hold back the unleashed emotions. Here and now, at least, he can stop pretending he is okay.

      — You have the right to be happy, Seokjin, — he once again ignores the formal address, extinguishing his cigarette. — You have the right to free yourself from this burden and start living, not merely existing and hiding from us in an attempt to hold on to what’s left of you every time the kid recounts his escapades. — There is no judgment or spite in his words, but the last sentence carries a hint of disdain, giving Seokjin a chance to breathe.

      — I’m tired, Yoongi, — his voice falls into the night like the sky on Atlas’s shoulders. — If I could just stop loving him, do you think I wouldn’t?

      — I think you’re making decisions without understanding their outcome, hoping it’ll all resolve itself someday. — The guy steps closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. — The point is, you need to make a choice that really ends it.

Seokjin lifts his gaze, meeting the waves of concern and desire to help in the dark eyes opposite him.

      — I wish I saw you more often, but even more, I want to see you happy. — Yoongi runs his fingers over his shoulder, then nods toward the apartment, silently asking him to go back inside before catching a cold.

Seokjin takes several deep breaths to pull himself together, at least enough to calmly say goodbye to everyone and return home, where he can be alone in that familiar, already weary solitude, where his heart, scratched yet again, could cry without fear of being heard.

***

party 4 you — charli xcx

Wednesday and Thursday pass by relatively calmly, even productively, despite the chestnut-haired man's lingering fatigue. He’s still buried in paperwork, simultaneously juggling tasks for the upcoming ad campaign, which is due to launch in just a week. To his surprise, he starts having lunch with the brunette, who, ever since their Tuesday night out, has been unusually active, practically glued to him, always talking about something, and very pointedly ignoring Nari’s occasional presence beside them.

      All this interaction leaves Kim even more drained.

      It’s like the younger one is everywhere.

      By his desk, asking which shade of blue is better for editing (which isn’t even remotely part of the elder’s job), at strategy meetings with Nari, sitting next to him at lunch — way too close — and even at the building’s exit, suggesting they ride home together, much to Kim’s confusion, since the younger usually drives his own car (this time, he said something broke on the way and he took it to a repair shop). Kim half-expects to "accidentally" bump into him in the restroom next time he leaves a stall.

Even if he did miss Jeon, this kind of enthusiasm, this constant, close presence — only serves as a flashing red sign, a painful reminder that whatever hope had once lived inside him… died on that kitchen evening.

He doesn’t flinch away from him, doesn’t avoid or push the younger away, but each time he smiles, it looks more and more forced. Like the corners of a peeling poster being taped back to the wall, only to fall again. Over and over.

By Friday, Seokjin is seriously considering taking back his agreement to attend the office party. But Nari catches him at the office exit, happily locking in his promise again, completely ignoring his half-hearted, unspoken attempts to back out, and flits off home to get ready.

Back at home, he leans heavily toward the idea of just staying in and resting, maybe watching a show. But with a sigh and the thought that he can’t leave his friend there alone, he heads for the shower.

Once cleaned up and changed into a simple black silk shirt and matching jeans, along with similarly dark boots, he gets into a taxi headed for the venue, rented just a short distance from the company building, already buzzing with people.

       This time, the space feels larger, dimmer. The lighting is minimal — just enough to set the mood and create a relaxed atmosphere. Seokjin greets a few familiar colleagues as he walks deeper into the room. Soft music plays. Everyone’s clustered into different-sized groups, chatting and laughing here and there. By the drinks table, he spots a familiar petite figure in a dark cocktail dress that ends mid-thigh.

      He approaches her, watching as she carefully considers which juice to mix with her drink.

      — You don’t even fill out spreadsheets with that much concentration, — he teases, raising an eyebrow as she finally settles on a citrus blend.

       The girl turns her head at the familiar voice, her gaze sweeping over the chestnut-haired man. — Wow, Kim. — She turns fully toward him, approval lighting up her eyes with a spark of unhidden admiration. — If you were just a bit more into girls, I wouldn’t waste a second before surrendering to you.

      He knows she’s joking, but still offers her a small, warm smile.

She never lies to him. But even if they were born into different lives and met under different circumstances, they still wouldn’t have been anything more than friends. The spark of admiration would have burned out — and in every other way, they just weren’t meant for each other.

       — You look lovely yourself, — he catches her thankful smile before she takes a sip from her glass. — Better keep your guard up in case some Moon Yeongsik from IT sets his sights on you.

      He lets out a quiet laugh when the brunette rolls her eyes and gives him a playful smack on the shoulder. — Let him just try to come near me, — she tosses her long, straight hair over one shoulder with exaggerated irritation. — Tech worm. How can someone be that dense when you tell them flat-out there’s zero chance and you’re not interested?

      Seokjin simply shrugs, scanning the table.

      — Especially now that I might already have someone, — she adds.

       He turns back to her, brows raised in surprise. — And you didn’t tell me?

      — Well, it’s still hypothetical for now. But if you’d finally introduce me to the mysterious Mr. Min, then it might become official. — Nari puts on an overly casual expression, clearly faking it, and it stuns Kim into silence — which is exactly why she bursts out laughing. — God, your face! — she keeps laughing while he still processes what just happened. — I’m messing with you. But seriously, I did meet someone. We’ve only had two dates so far, so there’s nothing much to tell. — She turns back to the table, hands him a drink, which he accepts with a slight nod. — But I like him. He’s handsome. Interesting. Easy to be around.

      — Just… be careful, — Seokjin says, taking a sip, and she nods.

      — I really should be, — she replies, — because the one person who absolutely can’t stand me is heading this way. Someone really bratty. — She snorts and squints playfully toward Seokjin again, but he’s already turned to look in the direction she mentioned, missing her quiet comment that settles like sediment at the bottom of her glass. — Jealous little shit.

      — You look really handsome, hyung. — The approaching brunette gives him a once-over that somehow lingers on nothing and everything at the same time, a sparkle playing openly in his dark eyes.

      — Thanks, Kook-ah, — Seokjin’s heart skips a warm beat. His cheeks heat slightly, and he’s grateful for the dim light concealing it. — You… you look great too.

And he’s not lying. The younger is wearing a dark t-shirt that fits like second skin, highlighting every curve of his figure, paired with a light bomber jacket and dark jeans with frayed edges that add a rebellious touch.

Kim finds himself stuck on the sight, trying to stay calm and not look the younger in the eyes — not when he might fall straight in, right here and now. Meanwhile, Nari and Jeon exchange cheerful greetings.

      — I’ll be right back, — the brunette flashes an apologetic smile, glancing over their shoulders at something. — Umi’s calling me for some reason. Be right back. — He lightly brushes Kim’s hand as he steps around Nari, heading toward a group of equally young guys laughing and chatting.

Seokjin tries not to watch as the younger greets them all, hugs exchanged, his smile bright and carefree. Instead, he shifts his focus back to Nari, who starts talking rapidly about everything and nothing, doing her best to distract him after catching the subtle sadness in his eyes.

She tells him about how Casey — the foreigner in their department — had been secretly dating someone from IT, who had been cheating on her with her own colleague, resulting in a scandal and a messy breakup. He also learns that their coworker Sunwon, apparently into guys, is set to marry a girl chosen for him next month. That Moonbyung never actually finished university but faked her credentials with a fake diploma. That Taeil moonlights as a street dancer in his free time… and so on.

dance with me — 112

There are moments when Seokjin can’t hold back his laughter, and others that touch him deeply because he rarely stops to think about who surrounds him. Everyone has their own story, their own life, their own hardships, and secrets they keep hidden from others simply because they’re too personal to be shared.

Kim doesn’t know how much time has passed, but Jungkook still hasn’t come back. He’s already had four cocktails, and the pair he and Nari used to be has turned into a quartet: the two of them, Minseok — a coworker he liked as a person because he was kind and easy to talk to, always ready to help — and Bogom, who worked in PR and often interacted with Seokjin over work matters.

They moved to a separate table so they wouldn’t disturb anyone and could talk more comfortably. First, they talked about work, complaining about some things, praising others, then about coworkers who annoyed them, and eventually shared funny stories from university. Seokjin sat between Nari and Minseok, sipping his drink and chatting, feeling fairly comfortable and allowing himself to unwind a bit from all his worries. At some point, he noticed Minseok’s hand resting on the back of his chair — the man had leaned over to say something to Bogom and had left his hand there. He didn’t impose any further physical contact, only leaning in occasionally when the music was too loud to hear properly, as if straining to catch the conversation over the buzz of relaxed voices.

At that moment, Seokjin felt like the guy was being open enough for his intention to be clear.

Minseok was attractive and easy to talk to. He didn’t exude the aggressive masculinity many used to "convince" someone to give in. He simply enjoyed spending time with colleagues, giving off the vibe that he wasn’t expecting anything and would be fine with whatever happened, just enjoying himself. He listened carefully, supported the conversation, shared his own stories, laughed genuinely, and looked at Seokjin with interest.

      When you're in a work environment, you often don't have the time or energy to notice anyone beyond what's required. But when you're relaxed, a bit tipsy, and sharing something personal, you might start noticing who attracts you or piques your interest.

      That’s how Seokjin felt. He felt the open gaze on him — studying, relaxed, curious.

      And it didn’t feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want to run away or hide. Yes, it was a bit embarrassing. Yes, it was unfamiliar. But only because for the past two years, he hadn’t been with anyone and hadn’t paid attention to anyone — drowning in his unrequited feelings and not even thinking someone could be looking at him.

And just when he thought he was ready to move on, to take a chance and maybe lean slightly closer to Minseok, a girl calls out to him from behind. She apologizes for interrupting and asks to speak with him privately.

Seokjin looks at her in confusion. He’d never even spoken to her before and was pretty sure he didn’t know her name either, but seeing the slightly pleading look in her eyes, he nods and excuses himself.

      — You’re Kim Seokjin-ssi, right? — the girl leans closer so he could hear her better over the music.

      — Yes, that’s right, — Seokjin nods, raising his eyebrows in surprise as she gently takes him by the wrist and pulls him along. A few moments later, they are standing by a couch in another part of the venue that Kim didn’t even know existed.

      — I’m sorry for interrupting your evening, —  she says, letting go of his wrist, — but Jeongkook drank way too much while playing a drinking game with Seonjun, and now he can’t even string two words together. He passed out a few minutes ago. — She casts a tired glance at the guy curled up on the couch. — Before that, I barely managed to get out of him if anyone here knew where he lived, but everyone who might have known is just as drunk as he is. — She tucks her hair behind her ears, and Seokjin notices she doesn’t look much more energetic herself. — I’m really sorry, but could you help him get home? I won’t manage on my own, and there’s no one else to ask.

Seokjin looks over at the younger guy, who seems already deep in some dream, and sighs, realizing the next half-hour would be quite the ride.

      — Of course, — he offers a weak smile to the visibly relieved girl. — Thank you for looking after him. — She returns the smile and leaves.

Seokjin rubs his face a few times to snap himself out of the buzz, then types a message to Nari saying he was heading home because of drunk Jungkook, and orders a taxi to his place before putting away his phone. He crouches down in front of the sleeping guy and gently runs a hand through his hair.

      — Jungkook-ah, wake up, we need to get home. — The guy frowns slightly but doesn’t react otherwise. — Please, yeobo, you don’t want to wake up here. At least at my place there’s a guest room with a real bed.

The brunette frowns again, mumbling something unintelligible but still clearly half-asleep, so Kim has to wrap his arms around him and pull him into a sitting position. Grabbing a water bottle from a nearby table, he splashes a bit on his hands and gently pats Jungkook’s face. Surprisingly, it works — the younger’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused but at least responsive.

      Seokjin brings the bottle to his lips and helps him take a few sips, stroking his hair again.

       — Jungkook-ah, you need to lean on me so we can make it to the taxi. — The younger blinks slowly, dazed, while Seokjin slings his arm over his shoulder and holds him by the waist. They carefully get up from the couch, and Kim silently prays they’ll make it because the guy is way too heavy.

      Little-bratty-drunk-fan of endless gym trainings. 

      He’ll probably charge him for his service when this nasty ass gets sober. 

Step by step, they make their way to the exit and take the elevator down. Outside, the fresh night air helps a little, and Seokjin manages to get them both into the car. He settles Jungkook into the seat carefully so he doesn’t hit anything, then gets in beside him, apologizing in advance to the driver.

Feeling utterly exhausted from being tipsy himself and now hauling around Jungkook’s heavy, uncooperative body, Kim closes his eyes, not even noticing the drive passing by.

He is jolted awake by a quiet honk from the driver, signaling their arrival. Seokjin thanks him, gets out of the car, and pulls Jungkook out after him. He still can’t quite believe they’ve made it, but once they are inside his apartment and he lays the younger down on the couch in the hallway. The exhale is full of deep relief.

        For the mother of god, he’ll bust this drunk ass.

do i ever cross ur mind — sombr

He takes off his own shoes and pulls off the younger one's boots and bomber jacket, leaving him alone for a bit to catch his breath and bring a bowl of water to the guest room. When he returns to the hallway, he sees the brunette sitting there with half-lidded eyes, sleepily looking at him.

      — Woke up a little? — the brunette nods slowly and weakly. — And who were you trying to prove something to? — Kim asks more rhetorically, as he once again props the younger one against himself, helping him up and into the room.

      — I had to... — the younger mumbles softly as he’s sat down on the bed — had to... put that... show-off... in his place.

       — And? — Seokjin wipes his forehead with a cool damp towel, brushing the hair back. — Did it work?

      — He’s... knocked out... — Seokjin chuckles quietly, glancing at the younger’s face, who’s blinking slowly but looks satisfied.

      — Just like you — he shakes his head, finishing wiping his face. — Drink this. — He hands him a glass of water and a pill. The brunette frowns slightly but takes the pill, washing it down with the water, not without Kim’s help.

      — Thanks, hyung...

      Seokjin nods, places the glass on the nightstand, lifts the guy’s legs onto the bed so he can lie down, and covers him with a blanket. — Get some rest.

The brunette mumbles something else, but the elder pays no mind, turns off the light, and closes the door behind him.

He heads to the kitchen to turn on the kettle and sees it’s already 2 a.m. He sighs heavily, goes to his room for some home clothes, and walks into the bathroom. Tired and sleepy, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, then undresses and gets in the shower. After washing off the day, he feels much better, puts on some comfortable clothes, and tosses the used ones in the laundry.

The green tea flushes out the remaining alcohol, bringing a sense of calm. Seokjin replies to Nari, tells her he’s home, answers some other messages he hadn’t seen earlier, and heads to his room.

The steady street sounds and the darkness of his bedroom lull him into a sleepy state. He doesn't think about what Nari did after he left, or what almost happened between him and Minseok, or the drunk younger boy sleeping just a wall away. For the first time in a long while, falling asleep doesn’t hurt, because he simply doesn’t think about anything when he closes his eyes.

      That is taken from him when the clock shows 3:30 a.m.

      In his sleep, he doesn’t hear the door to his room open, the quiet, hesitant footsteps, the rustling of clothes being removed, or the bed dipping under someone else’s weight. Seokjin only wakes up when he feels a hot, furnace-like body pressing tightly against him, and familiar arms wrapping around him. He blinks sleepily and shudders when fingers start to softly trace over his stomach through the fabric of his shirt.

      — Jeongkook-ah? — he tries to turn to face the boy, but the strong grip makes it impossible. — Why aren’t you asleep? — His voice is low and hoarse from sleep, but he’s sure the younger hears him just fine. — Is something wrong? Do you feel sick?

      The brunette doesn’t answer, only pulls him closer, burying his nose in Seokjin’s hair.

      — I’m fine, hyung. — The hoarse voice is deep, sending shivers down the elder’s spine. — You smell really nice.

      — Then why are you here? — Seokjin is barely holding onto consciousness and forming words gets harder, but concern for the boy and his presence so close doesn’t let him relax.

      The younger still doesn’t answer, only moves his face to Seokjin’s neck, nuzzling it with a familiar motion. Seokjin tries to calm himself with the thought that maybe Jungkook is just lonely or cold and, still tipsy, came to warm up next to someone. But when a light kiss brushes his neck, he starts to panic.

      — What are you doing? — his voice cracks, his heart pounding like it might burst.

      The boy keeps leaving soft, barely-there kisses on his neck, breathing against it, his hand wandering lower. Kim can feel the heat of the younger’s body even through their clothes, and his own neck is already flushed from the burning tenderness of those touches.

      — Stop, you’re still drunk. — A hand slips under the hem of his shirt, returning to stroke his cool skin directly, every touch leaving invisible marks.

      Seokjin wants to cry from the unfairness and cruelty of it all, because every longed-for touch hits him like a wound, and his mind is breaking under the weight of the consequences.

      The brunette is still drunk.

      He doesn’t understand what he’s doing or who he’s doing it with. He’s probably just sad after recently breaking up with his girlfriend and is trying to find comfort.

But Seokjin isn’t a comforting pillow you can cry on and then throw the pillowcase in the wash to replace with a fresh one. He’s a person too, one who’s already been in pain for the past two years.

He decides to do the right thing — to make a choice that means something, and to cut off the past in order to at least try to live again.

       — We’re friends, Kook. — Kim feels the sting of those words like tiny electric shocks across his whole body, reaching every nerve ending. — Friends don’t do this.

      The boy behind him freezes like he’s been scalded. His hand stops, still resting on Seokjin’s skin, but no longer moving.

      Seokjin thinks the younger will exhale, let go, leave the room quietly, and by morning forget everything, leaving him alone to clean up the memory of that fleeting moment that broke him for good.

He’s not far from the truth — as always.

After a few moments of silence, the brunette exhales, warm air brushing against Seokjin’s neck, grabs his waist and rolls him over, facing him. The brunette hovers above him. Seokjin blinks slowly a few times, staring at the boy’s face above him, and freezes when he hears the words that make his insides tremble with fear.

      — Then why do I want to kiss you so badly?

      Kim looks at him in confusion, scanning the straight nose, the cheekbones, the lips, the messy hair, avoiding the younger’s eyes. — Because you’re drunk, and you just broke up with the girl you loved. You’re feeling empty and trying to fill that space with someone else. — He turns his gaze away, fingers clutching the blanket weakly. — But I’m not just another girl you can use to distract yourself. — Each of his own words hits him back in the chest like venom.

      A gentle hand takes his chin and turns his face back, silently asking him to look. Seokjin tries to resist, but his eyes slip, falling into those dark open galaxies with a faint glimmer. He sees his own reflection, a kind of calmness. He wishes the boy would leave, stop looking at him like that because in those eyes, he sees sincerity. Pure and raw. He sees what he fell for. He sees the last flickers of drunken haze.

      — I didn’t love her. — It sounds quiet and certain, but Seokjin ignores it.

      — Go back to your room, — he closes his eyes, swallowing down the tears forming inside. — I’m tired.

      That’s not fair at all.

      The universe does really not like him.

He doesn’t feel the moment he’s let go, doesn’t feel the weight lift, doesn’t feel the fingers leave his skin. Instead, he feels a tender touch run down his cheek, warm breath on his face and then foreign lips press against his own.

He freezes, overwhelmed by a deadly chill throughout his body. It feels like he’s died. His heart doesn’t beat, just stops.

The kiss doesn’t end. Tattooed fingers gently stroke his cheek, brush his jaw, press softly, coaxing his mouth open. He doesn’t realize he’s giving in, that the cold metal of the piercing grazes his nerves, that warm lips are moving more confidently, drawing his into the kiss. Through it all, he doesn’t think about how much it hurts. How every long-awaited touch comes with a burning needle that wounds deeper than he can handle.

He doesn’t realize he’s trembling all over when his fingers lock with the other’s, when he’s kissed not only on the lips, when his shirt is pulled off, when he touches velvet-hot skin, when he’s unwrapped from the blanket and lifted easily to be held close, when he grips the firm shoulder and buries his hands in soft dark hair.

He tries not to think about how his heart races in this dying ecstasy, how much it will hurt in the morning, how he’ll gather every broken piece of himself around the apartment, how this will finally shatter him after giving away everything he had.

The only thing he thinks about is how much it hurts to feel this good. How good it feels to touch, and how good it feels to be touched in return.

Maybe a naive bird once thought the same, soaring high above the trees unaware of the hunter hidden in the forest, finger on the trigger, already aiming for the heart.

***

i don’t need your love — lucky love

Morning arrives, as always, at the worst possible time. The sun shines its rays onto still-sleepy people, who blissfully squint, anticipating the joy of the weekend.

Seokjin frowns slightly when one of the rays lands directly in his eyes, and he turns over, burying his face in someone’s steadily rising chest. For a few moments, he just lies there, until his eyes fly open, staring at the still-sleeping brunette in front of him. The boy lies on his back, arms tucked under the pillow, blanket covering him up to the waist, hair messy and tousled.

      Seokjin presses his lips together and covers his face with his hands, trying to suppress a painful exhale.

      No. Fucking. Way.

      It wasn’t a damn dream.

      It all really did happen.

He carefully peels back the blanket, pulls on the underwear lying near the bed, grabs his clothes along the way, and quietly leaves the room, heading to the bathroom.

He doesn’t even look at his reflection — doesn’t want to hurt himself even more, and steps under the cold stream of water to come back to his senses. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but when he’s scrubbed everything off and is cold enough to stop torturing himself, he turns off the water, dries off with a towel, and gets dressed.

      He doesn’t want to go out.

      He doesn’t want to run into the younger one’s disappointed expression. Doesn’t want to see regret in his eyes or the realization that it was all a mistake.

      Doesn’t want to hear that it was a mistake — or worse, to see a neutral, empty gaze that remembers nothing.

      Either way, it will hurt.

Seokjin exhales shakily and steps out of the bathroom, only to come face to face with the now-awake brunette, standing in front of him and looking through one eye, the other still sleepily shut. He’s wearing only underwear, his hair still messy and sticking out in all directions, but Kim’s attention catches on his body. Bruises of various sizes dot his chest and neck in a trail, and a few scratches mark his torso.

      — Good morning, hyung. — The brunette yawns, covering his mouth. — I’ll never get how you manage to wake up so early. — He slowly walks past him and disappears into the bathroom.

      Kim lets out a choked breath when the door clicks shut behind him, then forces himself to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He distracts himself with music playing from the speaker, the sizzling pancakes, and the scent of coffee, but it barely helps.

He jumps slightly when he hears footsteps approaching, then feels a familiar weight settle on his shoulder.

      — Mmm, pancakes for breakfast. Hyung, you’re a treasure. — The brunette closes his eyes in bliss, placing two coffee mugs and a couple of plates with cutlery on the table.

      — Enjoy your meal. — Seokjin places the plate of food on the table and, after a returned greeting, begins to eat.

      The food sticks in his throat, but seeing the younger eat so eagerly, he forces himself to eat a little. They eat in silence, accompanied only by the soft tune of a familiar song. Kim feels trapped in his own apartment. He can’t even run from the conversation that is bound to happen.

      — How’s your head? — He can’t take the silence anymore, which clearly doesn’t bother the younger, who’s clutching his hot coffee cup.

      — It’s fine. Thanks for the pill yesterday. — The younger looks up and gives him a soft smile.

Seokjin only nods and presses his lips together as the brunette resumes eating. His whole body tenses when the younger finally speaks again a few minutes later.

      — Listen, hyung, about what happened last night... — He looks up, calm, and continues. — I think we should…

      — Forget about it? — Kim cuts him off, his shoulders tense as a wave of burning cold rises inside him.

      — I didn’t…

      — You’re right. — He nods as if agreeing, pressing his lips together to stop his voice from cracking. — You were drunk, yeah, and I probably was too.

       — You’re not even going to let me say anything? — The brunette furrows his brows and flicks his tongue over his piercing. A sure sign that he’s starting to get angry.

      — There’s nothing to say. — Kim stands, collecting the plates to place them in the sink.

       He’ll break anyway, but at least he’ll break on his own terms.

      — You really believe that? — The younger’s tone sends shivers down Kim’s spine, and he closes his eyes.

       — Yes. — He doesn’t turn to face him, afraid he’ll shatter at the sight, and continues. — You were completely drunk, feeling sad and lonely. — He grips the edge of the sink, trying to calm the painful tremor running through him. — You wanted a distraction, and I just happened to be there.

       Heavy silence settles on Seokjin’s shoulders, pinning him to the ground, though it feels like his heart has already crumbled somewhere underfoot. He grips the sink tighter.

      — And what’s it like to live with such an all-knowing brain that always thinks it understands everything better than everyone else? — The brunette’s voice drips with anger, followed by the grating scrape of a chair being pushed back.

       — Don’t be shitty. — It comes out weakly, and Seokjin finally turns to the boy, who’s now standing with both hands on the table, glaring at him from beneath his brows, eyes blazing.

       — How could I possibly be shitty, hyung? — Every word drips with venom, like poison-tipped arrows once used in war, killing on impact. — After all, we’re just friends, aren’t we?

maybe — sienna spiro

The final word hits Kim like a perfect shot, cracking him open from the inside out.

One thrown-out phrase is a death sentence that sucked all the air out of the room. The silence feels lifeless. He wants to scream, but his lips won’t move. His throat is dry, and somewhere deep down, maybe there’s a pile of ash that used to be his heart.

      Friends?

      As if that’s something they can go back to after everything.

The younger stares at him, still irritated, his jaw clenched so tight his cheekbones stand out sharply. One last bitter glance with sparks of pain and then he pushes away from the table and disappears through the kitchen archway. A few minutes later, Seokjin hears the front door slam shut.

Something inside him slams just as loudly. Maybe his organs are shutting down one by one, burning up in the hellfire of his pain. Maybe it was something smaller, something that doesn’t even matter anymore.

      What difference does it make if he completely shattered minutes ago? Or was it last night? Or even earlier?

      He doesn’t care.

      He sinks to the kitchen floor, not noticing the tears filling his eyes. A single sob escapes him. Then another. Then a third and then the breakdown hits him like a landslide. God, it hurts.

      No matter how many times he lived through it, no matter how much he prepared himself for the eventual loss, for picking up his broken pieces — he has never expected it to hurt this much.

      Seokjin always knew he wasn’t one of the lucky ones.

      Seokjin never thought it would end like this.

      Seokjin, as always, was far too close to the truth.

      Too bad the truth turned out to be his biggest misfortune.

***

maybe — sienna spiro

The brunet spends the entire weekend at home, not leaving his bedroom. Mostly, he sleeps, completely emotionally drained and hollow. He barely eats and doesn't respond to a single message, even when he sees a call notification from his parents. He simply doesn’t pick up, typing that he's feeling a bit sick and can’t talk right now.

The room is just as cold as he feels inside. He keeps the window open on purpose, refusing to make his life even slightly easier. The physical discomfort is awful, but it still doesn’t drown out what’s going on inside.

He feels nothing but an all-consuming emptiness. The brunet has personally carved out the warmest part of himself and filled the space with void — icy, ringing, and silent. Every breath feels like dragging his organs across sharp glass, shattered now, its fragments clinking inside him with each movement.

He wakes up Monday thinking only one thing — that he’s going to be as useless as humanly possible, because even getting ready takes all the energy he has.

Somehow, Seokjin makes it to work, occasionally nodding off-beat to people who greet him or just walk past. He doesn’t pay attention.

      Until the end of the day, he merely exists, a shadow answering questions on autopilot, somehow managing to do his tasks.

      No one touches him.

      There is no Nari giving him strange looks from time to time but keeping her distance, respecting his space. No coworkers bothering him with their stupid stories, their requests for help, asking him to show them how to do something. No endlessly sunny junior showing up for no reason other than to talk or invite him to lunch.

He doesn’t notice the week slipping by at that pace. The brunette gave up by Wednesday, quietly placing his favorite coffee on his desk and asking if she could do anything for him. All she got in return was a soft thank you and a shattered look.

He hasn’t seen the dark-haired boy all this time, or maybe he just hasn’t noticed him behind the wall of indifference he’s built toward everything around him. The group chat buzzes louder each day, calling him back, but he hasn’t read a single message, having put it on silent long ago.

Another week passes. Nari makes small, careful steps in his direction, considering it a victory when, one day, he agrees to leave the office with her for a quick bite. But on the way, he accidentally bumps into the dark-haired boy, who gives him a strange, painful look and, with a silent nod, walks past.

      Seokjin doesn’t go out for lunch again.

white mustang — lana del rey

The brunet loses a few more kilograms, now looking even more frail. He finishes a marketing campaign, receives praise and thanks from the higher-ups, but still drifts like a shadow through the department, shutting out the world.

On one of those indistinguishable days, Minseok approaches him, offering to grab coffee or food together. He doesn’t really remember which — he hadn’t been listening, just nodded to something and received a soft smile in response.

Leaving the office a day later, he sees a blond guy sitting outside, smoking slowly, lazily watching people walk by. A few moments later, the guy notices him and gives a barely noticeable nod toward the space beside him. Seokjin shivers from the wind and reluctantly steps closer, slowly lowering himself next to his friend. They sit in silence for a while. The blond finishes his cigarette, and Kim just stares into the distance, waiting for a lecture on his disgraceful behavior.

      — Nari called, — Min says quietly, putting out his cigarette on the nearest trash bin. — She said you’ve been gutted and look like one of the walking dead.

      — She always dreamed of getting your number, — the brunet mutters, still staring ahead.

      — I won’t ask why you look like shit, but I will ask why you’re ignoring people who’ve been worrying about you for days. — The blond’s voice is still low and hoarse from smoking, just like Seokjin remembers it.

      — Did something happen? — He laces his fingers on his knees.

      — Aside from disappearing for God knows how long and not even picking up the phone? — Min’s tone isn’t harsh, but it’s firm enough to make ignoring him as easy as everyone else impossible.

      — I don’t see notifications. Turned off all the sounds, — the brunet shudders from the piercing wind, slowly fidgeting with his fingers.

      — You’re such a fucking masterpiece, I swear. — For the first time in ages, Kim hears unfiltered anger in his voice, still wrapped in familiar concern.

      — I just needed to be alone. We don’t even see each other that often anymore. Everyone’s got their own lives, — he exhales weakly. — I didn’t think anyone would care that much about me not replying to a few messages.

      — Your mom called me, asking if you were okay, because during your last conversation you sounded off. — Seokjin finally shifts his tired gaze toward him, meeting an ocean of worry in those dark eyes. — I had to lie to her, because I had no fucking clue what the hell was going on with you. Though… — he pulls out a cigarette and lights it, — maybe I should’ve figured something was wrong, with the kid was looking this broken.

      Seokjin watches his movements and swallows the lump forming in his throat. The younger one had been hurting?

      — It’s not about me, — he shakes his head slowly, looking down at his shoes.

      — You still suck at lying, just like always. — The blond exhales smoke. — I told you that last time. And this wasn’t the solution I meant.

      — What, you think you’re so damn smart? — The brunet rolls his shoulders, irritation flickering in his voice.

“How’s it feel to have a mind so powerful you think you know better than everyone?”

      — I made your damn decision. So what? — He feels the dry sting in his eyes return. — A destroyed friendship, a broken Jungkook, and me… — his voice cracks from the very first words. — What do you see in me now, Yoongi? — He turns his face toward him, the first tear tracing down his cheek. — Look shitty?

      — Hyung… — the blond exhales, lips tightening in pain.

       — Do you see anything at all? — Tears cloud his vision, and he tries weakly to wipe them away. — No? — A bitter smile twists his lips. — I feel nothing. Like a scorched field. There’s nothing left. — He doesn’t react to the cold hand gently brushing his fingers. — It hurt, I loved him, and it hurt. Every time I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. And I was always wrong… — He lets out another bitter chuckle, locking eyes with him. — When I decided to do the right thing, to stop the pain and let him go, he ruined it. He shattered my pathetic attempt with his presence. I couldn’t resist him, because I loved him with every fiber of my being. And he… he was just drunk, hurting too, just needed a distraction, Yoongi… — The tears keep flowing, and his friend’s cold hands carefully wipe the tracks. — I gave him everything I had. We fought, he got mad and left, and I was left alone. In my apartment, with nowhere to run… — The blond wraps his arms around him, holding him close, gently stroking his trembling head. — I feel nothing, Yoongi, so why does it still hurt so much?

The brunet doesn’t notice the people walking past, doesn’t care if someone recognizes him, doesn’t care that he’s shaking from sobs or soaking his friend’s clothes. He doesn’t notice the brunette girl standing just a few meters away, covering her mouth with a trembling hand, crying silently at the sight of her broken friend.

He doesn’t remember how they got home, how he was helped up the stairs, helped undress and lie in bed, how someone gave him a sedative, after which he drifted off under the soft strokes to his head.

Seokjin doesn’t hear the quiet voices in his kitchen, more than before now, discussing something, occasionally interrupted by the girl’s whisper breaking into sobs.

He hears nothing, because completely drained, he sleeps through the next day, for the first time in a long time not alone in his apartment, but under the quiet protection of those who chose to stay.

***

stay — diego garcia

Seokjin wakes up to the smell of homemade food filling the apartment, accompanied by the clatter of dishes and someone’s lively chatter.

He pushes off the blanket and looks around. The room is dark and smells like lavender. His window is unusually closed and the curtains are drawn. He gets up, stretching his stiff limbs, and walks to the window. It’s not quite night yet, but it's getting there — the sky has already darkened and the streetlights are glowing in a steady line.

He steps out of the room, squinting at the light coming from the rest of the apartment, and heads toward the kitchen, where a familiar argument is taking place.

      — I told you to get your hands off the pan or you’re gonna burn us all to hell! — Hoseok raises his voice, not yelling, but loud enough to be heard.

      — Nari asked me to help with the vegetables! — Namjoon protests quietly, trying once again to reach for the pan, only to be blocked by Jeon.

      — Nari still doesn’t realize you’re the eighth wonder of the world when it comes to destruction. — Hoseok smacks his hands with a wooden spatula, making the guy yelp and glare at him, clearly offended.

      — You’re awake? — Yoongi touches his shoulder lightly as he walks out of the living room.

      — Yeah, — Seokjin meets his gaze, surprised. — Did I sleep for that long?

       — It’s been almost a full day. — The familiar voice of the brunette joins in as she exits the living room behind Yoongi. — How are you feeling? — She looks him over with concern, stepping next to the blonde.

      — Pretty okay, — Seokjin nods, just before the girl throws her arms around him in a tight hug, standing on her toes.

      — Don’t ever do that again, Seokjin. — She flinches slightly when he carefully hugs her back. — Please don’t shut everyone out like that and try to deal with everything alone when you have people who love you.

      — I… — he pulls her small body closer, exhaling deeply. — I’ll try.

      — I was so scared for you, — she trembles slightly again, and he realizes she’s sobbing. — We all were. We didn’t know what to do.

      — It’s okay, Nari, — he gently rubs her back, trying to comfort her, though a lump rises in his throat from her words. — It’s okay. Really.

      Seokjin feels a hand rest on his shoulder again and looks up at the blonde, who gives him a nod — silent support in a single touch.

      They let go of the hug. — What are you guys even doing here?

      — We didn’t want to leave you alone, — the girl carefully wipes her tears, — especially since your apartment was a mess and your fridge was completely empty.

      — I didn’t have the energy to cook.

       — So we did it for you. — Nari offers a small smile and gestures toward the kitchen.

      — You shouldn’t have left those two in there, — the blonde mutters, following them to the kitchen, — they’ll cook each other faster than the food.

       Seokjin and Nari turn to him, surprised, and he looks confused for a moment before rolling his eyes. — I didn’t mean it like that. I meant they fight like cats and dogs.

Moments later, all three of them burst into quiet laughter as they walk into the kitchen, drawing the attention of the still-arguing guys.

      — Hyung, you’re awake! — Hoseok reacts first, jumping up to hug Seokjin tightly.

      — Hyung, are you okay? — Namjoon’s worried voice reaches him through Jeong’s rambling, as the latter seems determined to crush him.

       — I’m fine, but I would still like to be able to breathe, Hobi, please… — he groans one last time before the guy finally lets him go.

       — Sorry, hyung, I was just really worried. — He receives a regretful smile and a light pat on the head from Seokjin in return.

      — Thank you all for caring. — Seokjin nods gratefully as he hugs Namjoon. — I truly appreciate it. I’m sorry I made you worry.

       — We didn’t know it was that bad, hyung. — Hoseok shakes his head, turning back to the stove, but not before giving him a sad glance. — If there had been anything, anything to help us understand…

      — I didn’t…

      — They know everything, Seokjin. — Nari cuts in, causing the brunette to look at her in surprise, a flicker of panic in his eyes. — I’m sorry, but I told them everything. It got too serious. I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

      — Taehyung and Jimin…

      — They don’t know, — the blonde says. — At least not from us.

      Seokjin exhales and takes a seat at the table. He’s silent for a while as the others set the table, laying out the freshly cooked dinner.

      — Hyung, — Hoseok’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. He’s looking at him with honesty and a kind of quiet understanding. — It’s okay. Nothing has changed for us, if that’s what you’re worried about. And we won’t say or do anything unless you want us to. — He smiles, watching the relief spread across Seokjin’s face. — Now please eat. I actually put effort into this.

      Seokjin lets go of the weight, if only for a moment, and has his first proper meal in what feels like forever. It’s actually his first real meal in two weeks.

They talk. A lot. About everything — the news, their lives, their worries, their work. No one brings up what happened. They let Seokjin just be. Let him breathe. Let him feel a little lighter. He even smiles and laughs a few times genuinely. He feels better. He doesn’t want to suffocate in silence and solitude anymore.

They clean up afterward and suggest watching a movie to relax. The plot is painfully simple, but it makes them laugh and fills the room with warmth.

Everyone heads out when it’s already deep into the night. They slip on their shoes, saying their goodbyes, while Kim, despite the long nap, still wants to rest more.

      Just before leaving, Hoseok pauses and fidgets awkwardly, drawing a curious glance from the brunette. — Hyung, I know you’re not in the best place right now, but… you know, I’ve got that showcase concert tomorrow and I was really hoping that maybe… you’d come?

      — I’d love to come, Hobi. — Kim smiles warmly at the sudden light in the younger’s face — a hope that’s impossible to hide.

      — I’d be really happy, hyung. Really. — The guy hugs him tight, and Seokjin feels a warmth in his chest that he thought he had forgotten.

      — I’m sorry I made you think I wouldn’t come. — Kim closes his eyes with a soft sigh. — I’ll clap really loudly and definitely bring you flowers to congratulate you afterward.

       Hoseok laughs lightly, smiling just as warmly. — Deal.

***

bigger than the whole sky — taylor swift

The concert hall greets Seokjin with bright lights and the hum of a gathering crowd. He weaves between rows, carefully avoiding people so as not to crush the promised bouquet in his hands, scanning the space with anxious eyes in search of familiar faces.

As he draws closer to the stage, he spots Yoongi’s head, who’s chatting with Jimin. Namjoon sits beside them, along with Taehyung and… Jeongkook.

      He hadn’t spoken to him, hadn’t even seen the younger for over two weeks, aside from that one tense encounter at work — a moment that left a bitter aftertaste rather than resembling anything close to real interaction.

His chest tightens with the pain of a shattered heart, with regret for hurting not just himself, but also the boy before him, and a quiet fear of meeting his gaze, only to drown in his indifference.

He takes a deep breath, and noticing the lights beginning to dim in parts of the hall, he slips through the remaining rows to avoid blocking anyone’s view.

      — You nearly missed it, — Min leans toward him, his gaze laced with amused reproach. But after a beat, he quietly adds — But you still came.

      — I couldn’t not come, — he replies just as softly, trying to settle into his seat. — I just spent too long choosing the flowers.

Min nods, accepting the explanation, and says nothing more while the younger ones glance over to quietly greet the brunette, all except Jeongkook. Their silent gestures seem to promise that post-concert, he won't just be facing hugs.

Seokjin nods calmly, resigning to it, and turns his attention to the stage where a young host is already addressing the audience.

One performance follows another, a bright contrast of colors and genres, until Hoseok’s team takes the stage and earns the loudest applause and cheers — all entirely deserved.

Seokjin, completely immersed, doesn’t notice time passing until the concert is drawing to a close.

The entire hall erupts in applause, showering the performers with flowers as they come out to bow. Seokjin, with the rest of the group, leaves his seat and pushes through the crowd toward the stage. Hoseok spots them, waves excitedly, and makes his way down the steps into a flurry of congratulatory hugs.

      — We’re all so proud of you, Hobi, — Seokjin says warmly, pulling his friend into a tight hug. — You did such a great job. You were flawless. — He pulls back and hands over the bouquet, catching the younger’s initially surprised, then delighted reaction. — For you, just like I promised.

       — Thank you, hyung. — Jeon once again hugs him gratefully before turning to the others, who are clearly eager for their turn.

      Seokjin steps away and, catching Min’s questioning glance, motions toward the exit with a small tilt of his head "I’ll be outside."

He carefully slips through the crowd and a few minutes later finds himself outside, taking in the fresh air. He spots an empty bench near the entrance and makes his way over to wait for the others.

The March air doesn’t feel so cold anymore, though its unpredictability still doesn’t inspire trust. Seokjin replies to a message from his mother, assuring her he’s doing better and will call soon, when he catches a glimpse of a familiar pair of shoes stopping right in front of him. He looks up and sees the brunette.

      Jeongkook looks thinner, a little tired, but still heartbreakingly familiar, with his usual messy hair and those dark eyes that always seemed to see right through him.

      — Hey, hyung. — His voice is quiet, and it sends a sharp ache through Seokjin’s chest. It still sounds like the voice he loves, but now it feels distant. Separated by a chasm they both helped create.

      — Hey, — the brunette manages a weak, hesitant smile, but it’s genuine.

      — I… — the younger fidgets, frowning slightly as he looks away. — I wanted to apologize to you.

      Seokjin raises his brows in surprise, then slowly shakes his head and stands up to be level with him. — You didn’t do anything wrong, Kook. — There’s sorrow in his voice, a heavy cloud looming over them.

      Because the truth is — he is the one to blame.

      — I shouldn’t have been so harsh, — the younger exhales, finally meeting his gaze. — I… was wrong. — There’s too much regret and pain in those brown eyes, enough to make Kim’s heart skip a beat. — I had no right to be angry at you or to demand anything. — He lets out a shaky chuckle, and the sound nearly breaks Seokjin. — I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.

      — You… too, — Seokjin presses his lips together, feeling like something important is slipping away, something he can’t grasp, as he falls deeper into the sadness in Jeongkook’s eyes. — I’m sorry I hurt you.

The younger says nothing, his attention shifting to their friends exiting the building, chatting cheerfully as they walk toward them.

       — Hyung! We haven’t seen you in forever, and you didn’t answer a single message! — Taehyung sounds offended, almost scolding, but Seokjin knows too well that it’s only a front hiding real concern and that only adds to the weight of his guilt.

      — I’m sorry, Tae, — he hugs the younger gently, and then Jimin as well. — I’ll make it up to you. But for now, I have to go.

       — You’re leaving? — The rest of them catch up, confused expressions on their faces. Seokjin also feels the heavy gaze of the younger boy beside him.

       — Yeah. There’s something work-related I really can’t postpone. — He hugs them all tightly, trying to offer what he hopes is a light, convincing smile. — Once it’s all settled, I promise I’ll be back.

Something in his words makes Min follow him with a careful glance, but after a moment of quiet understanding, he simply nods. And Seokjin disappears around the corner, knowing that despite how heavy this choice feels, it’s the only one that might finally mean something. The only one that might let him move forward the right way.

***

keep this fire burning — beverly knight

In mid-March, Seokjin places his resignation letter on his boss’s desk. The middle-aged man looks up at him, puzzled, not understanding what’s gotten into one of his department’s best employees and he voices exactly that, as he meets Seokjin’s calm, unwavering gaze.

      — I’m sick of this job, — Kim replies steadily. — I’ve worked here for almost two years, and not once during that time have I felt happy. Like I belonged. — Seokjin exhales, offering a faint smile. — You’ve got a great department and good people. But I’m sure the team would benefit more from someone who’s passionate about what they do.

      The man studies him for a while, coming to his own silent conclusions, before nodding in resignation and signing the paper. — You still have to work until the end of the month, as per your contract.

The brunette nods in agreement, takes the signed document, and is already at the door when he hears something that makes him feel… right.

      — I hope you know what you’re doing, Seokjin. I hope it works out for you.

      He doesn’t know.

      But it will work out.

      For some reason, he’s certain of it.

      Kim finishes the next two weeks quietly, without telling anyone. Strangely, he feels better than ever in that office. At the end of the final week, he collects his paycheck and walks back to his desk, pulling out a cardboard box.

After packing his things, which turn out to be fewer than he thought, he feels even more certain that leaving is the right decision. Maybe he should have done it earlier, seeing how even materially, he never got attached to this place.

      He walks over to Nari’s desk, and she throws a questioning glance at the box in his hands. — Clearing out the space?

      He offers her a soft smile and shakes his head. — Yeah. From myself. — The girl frowns in confusion, and he adds, — I resigned.

      — What?! — Nari stands up from her chair, her voice rising slightly. — But… how?

      — I handed in my notice two weeks ago. Today’s my last day. — Seokjin doesn’t see the figure passing behind them, who suddenly freezes mid-step at his words. — I’m not happy here, Nari. I’m sorry to leave you behind, but we’ll still be friends — even after I walk out of this building.

      — Are you sure? — She’s not asking about their friendship.

      — I am, — he nods again and sees a trace of relief on her face. — I’m sure that, to become myself, I have to leave this place.

      — Then, — she stands up fully now, — are we celebrating your liberation tonight?

      Seokjin chuckles and leans down to kiss her cheek. — I hope you bring good wine.

       — You wound me, Kim. — He walks away with a wink, still unaware of the boy who heard everything.

      Jungkook stands behind one of the tall partitioned desks, trying to piece his scattered thoughts together. Since that moment outside the concert hall, he and Kim haven’t really spoken — only exchanged a few awkward words at work, like strangers rather than people who used to be… something more.

He still doesn’t know what he wants to say, but he runs anyway as fast as he can past confused coworkers, hoping to catch Kim by the elevators. But when he finally gets there, he sees someone else has beaten him to it.

      — If you’ve made this decision, then I believe it’s the right one for you, knowing how thoughtfully you approach important things, — a light-haired guy says with an easy smile, prompting a small nod from the brunette.

      — It’s for the best. — Seokjin shifts the box more comfortably in his arms.

      — I don’t want to pressure you, but… we’ve gone out a couple of times, and I was wondering — would you maybe want to go on a real date?

      Jeongkook doesn’t hear the rest. He’s already backing away, disappearing around the corner he came from just a moment ago, chasing a fading chance to talk to…

      To who?

      An ex-coworker?

      An ex-friend?

      He lets out a bitter laugh as he hears the elevator doors close behind him, just before nearly colliding with the light-haired man exiting the building.

Five minutes later, Seokjin leaves the building for good, the one he worked in for the last two years, unaware that a very familiar brunette is now slumped against one of the interior walls, his head resting against the cold plaster.

The air outside doesn’t feel different. Life doesn’t feel new. His mood doesn’t change with the snap of a finger. But inside, he feels a strange calm. And in his mind there is a rare kind of silence.

He calls a taxi, not wanting to drag the box home on public transport, and an hour later, he’s back in his apartment, unpacking, giving his things a proper place — somewhere they won’t just gather dust.

He cooks dinner slowly, some random show playing in the background to fill the empty space in the room, when the doorbell rings.

      — Smells amazing, — Nari says as she slips off her shoes and hands him two bottles of white wine. — Something special to celebrate unemployment?

      — Just pasta, — he shrugs, waiting for her to finish taking off her shoes so they can head to the kitchen together.

They finish cooking side by side, laughing and listening to music. Nari shares a story about a recent date, saying she might introduce him to her new boyfriend soon. Over the course of a few hours, they empty both bottles of wine and end up dancing around the kitchen — careless and happy in each other’s company.

She suggests baking cookies, and they crack open Seokjin’s own stash of alcohol.

      — So, what are you planning to do? — she asks, now wearing one of his oversized T-shirts and stirring the dough.

      — I applied for a job at WQ magazine, — Seokjin says as he tops off their wine glasses.

      — Are you serious? — she takes a sip and eyes him with real curiosity.

      — Yep, — he nods, closing his eyes for a moment. — The interview’s set for Monday. If all goes well, I’ll be working in the fashion department as an editor.

      — That’s amazing! — Nari grins, clearly happy for him. She asks him to grab a baking tray, then goes quiet for a while before saying, carefully. — But I wasn’t talking about work.

Seokjin raises a brow in question, but before he can ask what she meant, the doorbell rings again. The two friends exchange surprised looks. It’s pretty late for visitors.

       — Are you expecting someone? — she asks, taking another sip.

      — Nope, — he’s shaping the last of the dough onto parchment. — Could you get that, please? My hands are a mess.

Nari nods and disappears into the hallway. A few moments later, just as Seokjin is sliding the tray into the oven, she walks back into the kitchen, holding a bouquet of creamy spray roses.

      He blinks at her, puzzled, as she smirks and holds out the flowers. — Who’s that from?

      — The courier didn’t say, but there’s a card, — she gestures to a small envelope and hands him the bouquet. Seokjin pulls the note out and scans the message:

“Congratulations on your new beginning.
I hope, wherever you go next, you’ll find more happiness — and that your beautiful smile returns, the one that always lit up the space around you.

— Minseok”

      — So, Minseok, huh? — Nari eyes him with playful curiosity as he stands there, both flustered and unsure.

      — We’ve… just gone out to eat a couple of times, that’s all, — he says as he grabs a vase and starts filling it with water.

      — He clearly likes you, — she says, sipping from her glass. — Otherwise, he wouldn’t send you such a beautiful bouquet.

      Seokjin arranges the flowers in the vase, smoothing out the paper around them, then shrugs slightly, saying nothing.

      — And do you like him? — she continues, watching him carefully, but without pressure.

      — He’s… he’s kind, — Seokjin brushes the petals of a few blooms with his fingertips. — Very kind. — He exhales quietly and turns his weary eyes to her. — But I’m… not ready.

      — Then you should tell him, — she walks over and touches his shoulder gently. — You don’t owe anyone anything. But it’s better to be honest.

He nods silently, and they don’t return to the topic again because she shifts the conversation to a film she watched recently. Half an hour later, they’re pulling the cookies from the oven and settling into the living room devouring warm cookies, watching a movie, and talking late into the night.

***

la mentira — miguel

Kim’s weekend passes relatively quietly. On Saturday morning, he sees Nari off, tidies up the house, then meets Yoongi at his place and finds out that the younger ones were worried because Seokjin disappeared again after the concert without explaining anything, threatening to drive the poor blond crazy. So he decided to distance himself too, pretending to be very busy and having no time to answer their nagging.

That’s why on Sunday he writes and suggests feeding the crazy duo, and also Namjoon and Hoseok, to make up for his guilt.

They meet at one of the younger ones’ favorite places and have a good time. Seokjin answers all the excited chatter of his friends, talks about his new job, and for the rest of the evening, they just chat and drink a little.

Nobody talks about Jeongkook. Apparently, Taehyung and Jimin simply don’t know, and Hoseok and Namjoon keep silent for obvious reasons.

With his body and mind relaxed after a good evening with friends, Seokjin returns home around half past eight, enters the apartment, calmly takes off his shoes, and removes his clothes on the way to his room to take a shower.

After washing and changing into clean home clothes, intending to make himself some tea and relax watching a series in his room, the doorbell rings.

The brunette mutters something quietly about who could be visiting him on a Sunday evening, walks to the door, and freezes when he sees a person on the doorstep he didn’t expect to see anytime soon. Or maybe ever.

       — Jeongkook? — he says quietly and uncertainly, while everything inside him that had been sleeping quietly until recently jolts awake.

      — Hello, hyung, — the brunette looks tired and strangely unfamiliar on his doorstep. — May I come in?

       — Yes, of course, — Kim nods and steps aside to let the younger one into the apartment.

The brunette comes in, the door closes behind him, and for a few moments he just stands and looks at the brunette, hands hidden in the pockets of his familiar bomber jacket.

       — You... — Seokjin hesitates, feeling awkward from the same emptiness that appeared between them a few weeks ago in his own apartment. — Maybe you want some tea?

The younger one quietly exhales and nods, taking his hands out of his pockets and then bending down to untie his sneakers.

Seokjin decides not to wait for him to undress and goes to the kitchen, feeling a nervous tingling at his fingertips from not having been in the same space with the younger one and not having talked about anything more than routine phrases between acquaintances for a long time.

Seokjin turns on the kettle and clatters dishes while looking for tea, not noticing the younger one entering the room, glancing at the bouquet of roses standing in the middle of the table, and approaching to pick up the note, slightly folding the edges of the paper.

       — Nice bouquet, — Seokjin freezes for a second because the younger one’s voice sounds a bit rough, quiet, and tense.

       — Yes, — the brunette forces out, feeling uncomfortable and somehow guilty. — A friend gave it to me... — He hears the younger one snort behind his back at the last word but says nothing more.

       — Interesting friend, — the younger one’s voice emphasizes the ending, and Seokjin feels a slight chill creeping along the corners of the room.

He finally pours boiling water over the tea leaves, covers the pot, and turns to put the cups on the table.

There’s silence in the kitchen, felt like a taut string — one wrong move and it would snap. Every action of Seokjin’s is watched closely by the dark eyes until he sits opposite the younger guy.

      Seokjin breaks the silence. He’s been avoiding looking at the brunette until now. — So… why did you come?

      The younger one presses his lips together and exhales, looking very tense. — Do I no longer have the right to come?

      — No, why would you… — Kim shakes his head, pressing his lips together and fiddling with his fingers. — It’s just that you… we haven’t really talked in the past month… that’s why I asked.

The brunette puts his hands on the table and starts playing softly with his tattooed fingers. The sound makes Seokjin even more nervous, so he distracts himself by pouring tea into the lonely cups.

       — You really quit your job. — His voice is even, not a question.

      The younger one just nods, finishing with the dishes and placing the kettle back on the table. — Yes.

      — You didn’t even say anything. — The brunette’s voice is full of bitterness and pain, drawing Seokjin’s attention. — Do I no longer have the right to know anything about you because you have a new friend? — The younger one snorts and shakes his head, looking down at his fingers that keep tapping some rhythm on the table.

Seokjin finally looks at him. His hair has grown a little, falling over his eyes, his cheekbones look sharper because he’s lost weight, and his face looks tired and broken, as if he’s lost something very important that gave him strength to live, slowly fading away.

Seeing him causes pain in Seokjin and a weary heart that had only recently stopped bleeding so badly, now wanting to heal its wounds, beating again with regret and a desire to touch the younger one and take away all his bitterness.

       — It’s not like that, — the brunette breathes weakly, shaking his head.

      — So how then? — Jeon finally looks at him, making everything inside freeze from the pain in those dark eyes that are about to overflow, flooding the room with sorrow. — Why him, hyung? Why him, and not me?

      Seokjin parts his dry lips to say something but can’t find the words. — I don’t… I don’t understand what you mean.

      — That you chose Minseok, not me. — He notices the younger one’s fingers clench into a fist, revealing sharp knuckles from tension, and his voice no longer hides his brokenness.

      — Jeongkook… — he finally loses all his thoughts.

       — I came to this company because of you, — the younger one pours out with his trembling voice full of pain. — I wanted to be closer to you because you drifted away more and more after starting to work there. You just disappeared. You were nowhere. You stopped coming to our meetings, answered messages less and less. I thought that if I worked with you in the same place, at least I would see you more often. — Jeon shakes his head, clenching his fingers even tighter, bitterly smiling. — But you became even more distant. I saw you every day, but it was like you were unreachable. — He looks at him, drowning him in the ocean of his sadness. — I didn’t want to pressure you, but every time I smiled at you or teased you, I felt something breaking inside me because of your detachment. — Tears start gathering in his eyes, making Seokjin sting with pain because he didn’t realize how hard it was for him. — I was so happy when you came to Hoseok and Yoongi because I could touch you and know after so long that you were real.

      — I don’t… — Seokjin shakes his head, choking on the tears gathering. — I don’t understand…

      — I wasn’t as drunk that night as you think, hyung. — His voice lowers, making Kim freeze, watching the emotions on the other’s face.

      — What? — He’s not even sure what he just heard.

       — When I came to you and lay in your bed, I wasn’t drunk. — The younger one nods affirmatively. — I touched you, kissed you, and loved you not because I was drunk or sad over another made-up breakup with a made-up girlfriend, but because I wanted to. I wanted you. Always. From the beginning. — Kim feels like he fell into a coma that same night a month ago in this very kitchen and now he’s just dreaming it all. — I liked you since that stupid party when you were left alone in the kitchen and didn’t know what to do. I wanted to come back and talk to you longer, get to know you, but you already left.

      — Your relationships… — Seokjin doesn’t believe him. He can’t believe his own ears because he remembers every girl he cried over at night in his room.

      — I didn’t have any relationships, hyung. — The brunette shakes his head and lets out a sad chuckle. — No one knew, but all the girls you saw were my friends or acquaintances. All the relationships were fake because I wanted to get your attention and see your reaction. — Seokjin grips his cup tighter to keep some connection to reality. — I was pathetically in love with you all this time and didn’t know what to do, clinging to your friendship as the only thing I could get from you because I thought you had someone else or you wouldn’t even consider looking at me the way I wanted.

Seokjin looks directly at him and it hurts even more because he sees that the younger one isn’t lying.

       — I just… — the guy exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. — I don’t know… — He squeezes his fingers tightly then releases them again, holding himself back from something. — I’m tired, hyung. — He looks up at Seokjin and his eyes are so clear and fragile in their vulnerability that they reflect the guy opposite him. — I can’t make you love me because you’ve already chosen someone else…

      — You can’t, — Seokjin says foolishly, trying to gather his thoughts.

      — Maybe… when it gets easier for you, you… — The younger one bites his lip, doubting every word. — Maybe you could at least… sometimes talk to me?

Seokjin keeps looking at him silently, not knowing what to think when the person he’s been hurting for and missing these past two years just confessed his love.

       — I… I’ll accept your choice and won’t bother you with my feelings, just so you’re happy. — The guy’s mouth twists into a bitter, broken smile. — But I don’t want to lose you completely. I don’t want us to avoid each other at gatherings, to look at each other like strangers, or disappear from each other’s lives, cutting all the ties and memories.

      — No, — Seokjin says softly, and he knows the younger one hears him because his face tightens painfully.

      — Please, hyung, — tears flash in his eyes, his voice breaks with despair, — I…

Seokjin doesn’t know where he finds the strength to push his chair back and stand up. Time seems to slow down and he feels like he’s watching everything from outside himself as he walks around the table and gently touches the younger one’s face with trembling hands, turning him to face him and then, after a second, leans in and kisses him.

      The younger one freezes in his arms, seeming not to breathe, while Seokjin pulls away softly, stroking along his cheekbones. — I won’t be just friends with you anymore, Kook. — He scans the guy’s face, noticing a thin trail of tears running down his cheek. — Because I’ve wanted to tell you that I love you for so long.

      — Hyung… — The broken voice sounds hoarse and unbelieving, and another tear appears on the other cheek.

      — I love you. — The words burst out like a bird set free, and Seokjin feels so light that through his own tears, a genuine smile spreads on his face. — Love you.

The younger one still looks at him in disbelief, ignoring the tears flowing freely down his face. He abruptly gets up, pushes the chair aside, and cups Seokjin’s face with large warm hands, pressing his lips to his.

The kiss is full of desperation, relief, and tears because they both continue crying from the pain that long tormented their hearts, finally leaving to give way to hope long forgotten somewhere.

The younger one doesn’t break the kiss for a second, sliding his hands through hair, face, neck, and chest, feeling the revived heart under his fingers, along the waist. He touches everywhere and pulls him closer to make sure it’s real, that it’s allowed.

He doesn’t notice when they bump into a wall, trying to take all he’s given, trying to show how much he missed it, how much he wanted just the chance to get close. To touch.

      To the body, the heart, the soul.

      He’s only distracted by Seokjin’s soft, sincere laughter bubbling happily in his chest as he kisses his cheeks, cheekbones, and nose.

      I love you, I love you, I love you.

They both keep crying and kissing, not noticing the wetness on their faces because the relief and budding happiness that long struggled to find its way now gently step forward to wrap them in their embrace and shield them from everything else.

      It hurt me for so long, I wanted you to know, I wanted you close, I wanted to show you.

       Maybe, very often in this life, Seokjin wasn’t lucky.

      Maybe Seokjin wasn’t one of the lucky ones chosen by the universe.

      Maybe he got the younger one’s golden luck.

      Or maybe, no lucky ones exist at all, and it all just comes down to eventually finding your own happiness?

***