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Chapter Text

As soon as Jungkook closes the door behind him, it starts pouring rain.  

He stands under the shelter of the porch, watching as raindrops crash down to earth, heavier by the second. If he had the energy, Jungkook would laugh at the timing. So bad, that it’s kind of comical. 

Somehow the duffel bag he had hastily packed feels heavier than it had before he stepped outside. He didn’t pack much. His camera, chargers, the little money he has saved, enough clothes to last him a few days without having to worry about finding a laundromat. He probably should’ve taken something to drink and eat. Definitely should’ve taken an umbrella. Too late now. Can’t turn back. 

Puddles have started to form in the uneven spots on the gravel path. Somewhere far away lighting cracks, but Jungkook doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move a single inch. Why isn’t he moving? He needs to move. 

His parents are watching him from inside, waiting to see if he’ll really do what he swore. Considering that they haven’t made any move to run after him yet, they don’t think he will. They think Jungkook is a coward, that this time is exactly like the last time Jungkook said he was leaving. They might be right.  

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook has the urge to scream until his vocal cords snap. He doesn’t do it though. After so many years of barely using his voice at all, Jungkook is scared of the sound that might come out, terrified that nothing would come out at all. 

The view of his bike is waiting for him when he eventually forces his eyes open. It’s right there by the gate where Jungkook had parked it this afternoon. All he needs to do is step off the porch, walk down the creaky stairs and jump over the puddles on the path.  

Or Jungkook could just turn around and open the door.  

A sudden burst of laughter comes from inside the house. The laughter Jungkook grew up with. The laughter Jungkook loved before he learned what laughter is supposed to sound like.  

“Bullshit,” Jungkook whispers to himself, to no one, to the rain and thunder and this goddam house where he grew up.  

Twenty-four-years. All that time and Jungkook is still here. He’s had enough. Too much, even. 

Lifting up his duffel bag to his shoulder, Jungkook takes a deep breath and when he lets it leave his lungs, he’s stepped off the porch. 

They’re not laughing anymore. They won’t ever again.

The train from Busan to Seoul takes two hours and fifteen minutes.  

During the first hour, Jungkook simply watches the landscape change through the raindrop covered window.  

For all the dreaming of leaving Jungkook has done in his lifetime, he doesn’t feel much of anything when the map on his phone shows that he’s left Busan. Normally, a person would probably feel even a little melancholic over leaving their hometown, even if they’ve been dreaming of leaving. He thought he’d at least feel relieved. 

Maybe it’s because his soul hasn’t been in Busan for years now, it left somewhere between the ages of twelve and fourteen. He’s not sure where it is now. It might be in Seoul, or it might be on the other side of the world. Maybe it’s so far gone that Jungkook can never find it. Maybe it doesn’t even exist. He can’t feel much of anything if there’s no soul to feel with. 

For the second hour, Jungkook starts to form his plan. Despite his dreaming, only a small, hidden part of Jungkook actually believed he could do it. And that part of him hadn’t done much thinking, too busy yelling at the other, terrified part of him to run, run, run. 

With no friends or family in Seoul, no place to stay, no job and barely any money to his name, Jungkook knows his odds of actually surviving in the city are slim to none. Still, he has gotten this far, if he gives up and goes back home with his tail tucked in between his legs, Jungkook might never leave again. 

So, Jungkook counts his money again, searches the internet for a motel he can at least afford for a few nights and applies for the few part-time job offers he finds. It’s not much, but it’s a start.  

If worse comes to worst, Jungkook can try to sell his bike. Or his camera. Preferably the bike, though. 

With his plan ready, Jungkook leaves his seat to go to the bathroom. When he’s done, they’re just pulling at another station. People have already gathered at the doors, umbrellas in hand since the rain has decided to follow them from Busan. Jungkook squeezes through the people, careful not to accidentally bump into anyone with the train still moving.  

He’s by the door to his seating section when a man stumbles through the frame. Tall and buff and clearly in a hurry. He has a stack of books in his arms, an open back bag hanging off his elbow.   

“Ah, sorry! Excuse me!” The man says, when he realizes Jungkook is trying to get through. He’s smiling in a way that strangers usually smile at other strangers. It shouldn’t be special, but for some reason Jungkook is stuck staring at the man’s dimples.  

Though he hasn't had any successful relationships in his twenty-five years of being alive, Jungkook is almost embarrassingly prone to crushes. There's been pretty baristas, smart classmates, buff men with bright smiles at the gym. And now, a handsome man with deep dimples trying to get through the door on a train. 

Jungkook realizes too late that he’s been blocking the way for way too many seconds, that the man is staring at Jungkook like he’s not quite sure what to do.  

“Uhm, yeah sorry,” Jungkook mumbles and moves back to let the man through. 

The man is still smiling when he gives a quick bow to Jungkook and moves past him. The doors open and people start spilling out the car, the man follows after them.  

A book drops from his pile. Jungkook picks it up and tries to call after the man, but he’s already disappeared into the rain. The door closes. Jungkook is left to stand with the book in his hand. The train starts moving again. 

Returning to his seat, Jungkook fiddles with the pages of the book. Once he’s seated, he turns the thing around in his hands. It’s not a book one would find in a store, not really even a book at all. There’s no pretty cover, no title or author name. Really, it’s more like a notebook than a book. A clearly well-loved indigo colored notebook with crinkled pages and random doodles on the cover. 

Not wanting to accidentally read someone’s diary, even if it’s a stranger, Jungkook only allows himself to open the cover to see the first page. 

Kim Namjoon 

If found, call: xxxxxxxxxxx 

As soon as Jungkook steps off the train in the center station of Seoul, he releases a breath that feels like has been holding for his entire lifetime. Still, when he breathes in again, it doesn’t go all the way to the bottom of his lungs.  

Jungkook manages to navigate his way out of the platform, mostly by following other people. He has to wait a few rounds of people going up the elevator to fit in with his bike, but eventually he makes it into the main area of the station.  

Really, it’s not much different from the station in Busan. Bright colors in the form of led advertisement boards, people walking like they have no time at all, a 7-eleven that calls for Jungkook’s to come inside. It’s Jungkook’s growling stomach that answers that call. 

After buying the cheapest instant ramen and a small carton of banana milk, Jungkook makes the window table his temporary home as his phone charges. He inhales the food and downs the drink in minutes, contemplates buying a tuna onigiri but forces that thought away since he can’t exactly think with his stomach with the amount of money he has. 

The number from the book is already typed into his phone, has been from the moment Jungkook had discovered it. Considering that he wrote the number in the book, it must be really important to the owner. Kim Namjoon. The man with the nice dimples. The stranger Jungkook is about to call. 

It only takes two dials for the call to go through and though he tries to calm his breathing, Jungkook’s voice still wavers when he says, “Hello? Is this Kim Namjoon?” 

“Yes, that’s me.” A moment of silence and then, “Can I help you?” 

“Uh, I found your book. You dropped it on the KTX when you got off,” Jungkook says as mindlessly twiddling with the straw of his empty banana milk, “I’m Jungkook, by the way.” 

Not that Namjoon would care what Jungkook’s name is. Not that Jungkook will ever talk to Namjoon again after this. Jungkook’s number will stay unsaved, lost in the call log to be forgotten. Not that Jungkook cares. 

“Wait, really? I didn’t even notice I dropped it.” There’s shuffling on the line and Jungkook assumes Namjoon is going through his back bag. “Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver! Jungkook was it?” 

“Yeah. Jeon Jungkook.” 

There’s more shuffling before Namjoon says, “Well, nice to meet you! Where are you?” 

“Seoul central station.” 

“Okay, listen, I’m stuck doing some work out of the city for the next few days, but I can send someone to pick the book up right now if you’re not in a hurry.” 

Jungkook almost laughs at that. He’s got nothing but time and only a shitty motel room to go to. “I can wait here. I’m at the 7/11.” 

“Perfect! I’ll let the person picking it up know where you are,” Namjoon says, “Thank you again, Jungkook. Really, you saved my ass.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

The line cuts off after a goodbye and another thank you and twenty minutes later, a man appears beside Jungkook.

Just like Namjoon, the man is tall and in good shape. He’s wearing a cream trench coat that’s open to reveal a dark green sweater underneath. Handsome. The man is so handsome that for a moment Jungkook searches his catalogue of actors to make sure the man isn’t one of them. 

Perfectly shaped and full eyebrows that frame his face. His jawline is sharp, but there’s a roundness to his cheeks and nose. A few moles are scattered on his clear skin. Bright eyes, one monolid and the other double. 

He’s young, can’t be more than a few years older than Jungkook, but on his broad shoulders, he carries a presence of someone who's seen more of the world that his peers. Definitely more than Jungkook has seen. 

“Are you Jeon Jungkook?” The man asks with a deep, honey smooth voice. All Jungkook can manage as a response is a shy nod, but the man doesn't seem to mind. Extending a friendly hand to shake, he introduces himself, “I’m Kim Taehyung. It’s nice to meet you!” 

Cautiously, Jungkook meets the hand with his own. A collection of rings shine under the fluorescent lights on Taehyung’s fingers, diamonds glimmer on a Rolex watch around his wrist. He’s definitely seen more money than Jungkook has too. 

“Uhm,” Jungkook clears his throat and pulls his hand back to dig out the book from his worn down, slightly soggy from the rain, duffel bag, “Here.” 

As soon as the book is safely in Taehyung’s hands, Jungkook feels a physical weight lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what the book contains, but from how grateful and relief Namjoon had sounded he could tell the words inside carry a meaning Jungkook is probably too dumb to understand. 

“Thank you, Jungkook. The last time Joon lost a notebook, he moped about it for a year.” Taehyung smiles as he talks, holds the book to his chest like he’s cradling a baby. “Can I buy you something as a thank you? Do you want more ramen? Or something else?” 

“I...What?” 

“You can pick out anything you want. It’s on me!” By the time Taehyung has finished his sentence, he’s already disappeared between the aisles. 

Jungkook stays put on the uncomfortable plastic chair, watching as the top of Taehyung’s perfectly styled hair moves around the shop. He fiddles with a loose thread on his hoodie, hums along to the new Twice song playing in the store, considers leaving before Taehyung notices. But then Taehyung’s handsome face peaks over the top edge of what Jungkook knows is the ramen aisle and he has a feeling Taehyung won’t back down from his offer easily. So, Jungkook caves. 

It’s just one pack of ramen. 

Except, once Jungkook has dropped the cardboard bowl into Taehyung’s basket, Taehyung goes around the store picking out everything he sees. Chips, chocolates and sodas. As soon as they reach the coolers, Taehyung seemingly notices Jungkook eyeing the rice balls and drops four tuna ones in the basket too. 

Jungkook winces at the price when the cashier rings them up. He can’t remember the last time he spent this much money on food, most likely won’t for a long time after this. 

Taehyung swipes his shiny black card without looking at the total, smiling and chatting small talk with the rapidly blushing cashier. And Jungkook? Jungkook stands silently next to Taehyung, wearing three-year-old sneakers and a hoodie with a hole in the sleeve from all the nervous fidgeting he does. 

It’s a miracle none of the food drops from Taehyung’s arms as they walk back to the table. Jungkook had offered to help, but Taehyung had firmly shaken his head with that already familiar gleeful grin stuck to his face. 

As Jungkook plugs his phone back to charge, Taehyung dumps all their food on the table. It really is a lot, too much maybe for only the two of them, but the damage on Taehyung’s bank account has already been done. Though, Jungkook doubts it’s even a drop in the ocean for him. 

“Sit tight, I’ll go make these,” Taehyung says, taking the cup ramens and heading towards the machines.  

While Taehyung is gone, Jungkook tries to busy himself by watching the people moving through the station. Everyone looks busy, they all seem to have places to go. At this time, most of them are probably on their way home.   

Taehyung returns with the ramen steaming on a green plastic tray that he sets on the table. He claps excitedly as he sits down and is about to dig in before he stops himself, probably remembering his manners. “Wait, I’m twenty-six. How old are you?” 

Jungkook checks the clock on his phone. “Twenty-four for another 7 minutes.” 

It seems to take a few seconds for Jungkook’s word to register for Taehyung, but when they do, his eyes widen. “It’s your birthday?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you say sooner?” Taehyung asks, almost offended. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, so he just shrugs. Taehyung glances at their pile of snacks on the table and then practically jumps from his seat. “Yeah, this won’t do.” 

“No, you don’t have to-” Jungkook tries, but Taehyung has once again left him to roam around the store in search of god knows what. 

Sighing, Jungkook slumps back down on his chair and picks up his phone again. There are no calls, no messages, nothing from the people he left behind. He already knew they didn’t care, but it still stings. 

Taehyung is back again, this time with a chocolate cupcake and cup of already steaming seaweed soup. 

“It’s not a birthday without this,” Taehyung says, setting it down in front of Jungkook who can’t remember when he last got seaweed soup on his birthday. Taehyung checks his watch and smiles, “Made it just in time. Happy birthday!” 

Birthdays have never been nothing but another day for him. Really, he hasn’t properly celebrated his birthday since he turned ten. 

As he watches the digits switch on his phone screen, it doesn’t feel that much different. Except it’s this is still the best birthday he’s had since the year before both his grandparents passed. However sad that may sound, it’s true. 

“Thank you,” Jungkook mumbles, for once thinks his inability to cry might be a good thing and digs his spoon into the soup. 

Taehyung looks pleased as he picks up his own chopsticks and brings a mound of ramen noodles into his mouth. As he chews, Jungkook thinks the rest of their time will be spent like this, in silence while they eat. But once Taehyung has swallowed, he asks, “You’re from Busan, right? I hear the dialect.” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“I love that place! Especially the beach. My partner is from there too so we visit at least once a year,” Taehyung says, takes another mouthful of the ramen and chewing as he starts ripping open one of the onigiris, “What brings you to Seoul?” 

Jungkook scrapes the bottom of the bowl with his spoon, focuses on the last bits of seaweed floating on the surface instead of looking at Taehyung. “Nothing much. Just needed a change of scenery, I guess.” 

Taehyung is quiet for a moment that feels longer that it really is. Then, “You have a place to stay, though? Family or friends?” 

“I have a room booked for a week. But I’m spending my birthday alone at a 7/11, if that answers your second question,” Jungkook says without thinking. 

“You’re not spending it alone. And also, I’ve spent 26 birthdays at surrounded by people. Only three of those birthdays were with people I actually cared about. Those other 23? Honestly, would’ve been better to spend them alone,” Taehyung says. Too gentle for a stranger. “It’s good you have a room.” 

Jungkook wants to stand up and leave, get on his bike and just drive until his thighs give up on him. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. “I probably sound hopeless, but I’ll figure it out. Already found a few job applications and I can sell my bike if I really need to. I’ll be fi-” 

“Hey, Jungkook?” Taehyung interrupts his rambling. He has to do mental gymnastics to get his knee to stop bouncing. “Leaving home is fucking hard sometimes. You’re brave for doing that.” 

There’s not a single brave bone in Jungkook’s body. He’s always been a coward, silently hiding and pretending not to exist around other people. If he really was brave, he would’ve left Busan the moment he turned eighteen. Done his military service, gone to a school he actually wanted to go to. He would’ve kissed someone his parents didn’t approve of, a boy who made him feel like he was allowed to exist. Maybe he would’ve even been happy. 

But Jungkook is not brave. It’s too late for that. 

“I could bet that whatever you’re thinking right now is not true,” Taehyung says quietly, “You wouldn’t be here if it was.” 

Not knowing how to respond, Jungkook says nothing. Neither does Taehyung.  

Jungkook takes the ramen that’s already gone cold and eats it in silence. He does the same with the onigiri, takes small sips of the soda but doesn’t touch the chips. 

Though Taehyung is seemingly done eating, he stays until Jungkook says he should get going. Taehyung takes a bag of chips and a soda for himself, leaving the rest for Jungkook to take with him. He already knows there’s no use in refusing, so Jungkook packs them in his gym bag. He supposes it’ll be nice for later. 

Silently, Taehyung follows as Jungkook goes to get his bike from the racks at the station. It takes a while to remember where he had left it, but Taehyung still stays. Taehyung follows as Jungkook heads outside too. Stays as Jungkook tries to figure out the best route to the motel. It’s still raining. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind. 

 “Uh, I’ll be going now,” Jungkook says and sits on his bike, “Thanks for the food.” 

Taehyung, who has been staring at the sky and letting the raindrops land freely on his golden skin, looks at Jungkook again. Jungkook is far away from an expert on reading Taehyung’s expressions, but even he can notice the sadness suddenly clouding on Taehyung’s face. It looks wrong. 

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late for me too,” Taehyung says with a sigh, looking back up at the sky. The partner Taehyung mentioned is probably waiting for him to come home, “And no need to thank me, Jungkook. I’m always ready to help out.” 

That’s a weird way of putting it. Jungkook didn’t ask for Taehyung’s help, didn’t need it, doesn’t need it.  

“Right,” Jungkook mutters, grips the handles of his bike so hard his knuckles turn white, “Bye, then.” 

Jungkook is just about push off the ground when Taehyung’s voice stops him. “Jungkook, wait.” 

Jungkook puts his foot down on the ground again and turns around to face Taehyung. He’s holding a small, dark green piece of paper in his fingers, extending it toward for Jungkook to take. “What’s-” 

“It’s my phone number.” 

“Look, the food was a really nice gesture, but I don’t need your pity, Taehyung.” The words taste bitter on his tongue. Taehyung frowns. Jungkook grips the handles with full force again. “I just...I can take care of myself without anyone’s help.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” Taehyung’s tone is the complete opposite of Jungkook’s. Warm melting in with that husky baritone of his. “I didn't do it out of pity. You’re new in a big fucking city. It’s nice to have some friendly faces around.” 

Jungkook doesn't say anything to that. He looks down at the ground, at Taehyung's perfectly polished leather shoes. Taehyung probably has more money than he knows what to do with. This gesture of help is out of pity. Why else would someone with a fancy business card want to help him out so much.

"You don't trust people much, do you?"

"What?"

Jungkook had heard him, loud and clear, and Taehyung knows it too.

"Just an observation," Taehyung says quietly. He glances at Jungkook's duffel bag, considering something for a moment before making the decision to step closer.

Jungkook immediate instinct is to bike away as fast as he can, but something about the way Taehyung is looking at him makes him stop. Still he's on edge when he watches Taehyung reach for his bag. Taehyung looks at him the entire time and Jungkook has a feeling he'd stop if Jungkook were to tell him to. But for some reason, Jungkook doesn't.

Slowly, Taehyung's fingers make contact with the small pocket sewn on the bag. Then he opens the zipper and slips the card inside, closes it and steps back. "I'm serious, call or text me if you need something. Anything."

"Is this some kind of cult thing?" Jungkook's throat feels dry as he speaks. He's read something about people preying on unassuming tourists in the city. It's a reach, Taehyung seems kind, but one can never know.

At that, Taehyung laughs. It sound brightens the tense air around them, making Jungkook's grip on the handlebar loosen just a tiny bit. It's a beautiful sound, someone's true laughter.

"No Jungkook, this isn't a cult thing," Taehyung says with a hint of that laughter still in his voice, "I've never been in your position, but I know some people who have. At least to some extent. You remind me a lot of them."

"Did you treat them like a charity case too?"

If Taehyung takes any offense to the accusation, he doesn't show it on his pretty face. "I treated them like people."

"And how did that work out?"

"They seem pretty happy to me." Taehyung shrugs and takes another step back, a clear sign that their conversation is about to end soon. "Don't get me wrong, it's good to have a survival instinct. You shouldn't trust every stranger you meet on the street. But sometimes it's okay to open up a little."

Jungkook scoffs. Who does this guy think he is? "So, why should I trust you?"

"You could give me a chance," Taehyung says, now a few feet away from Jungkook. For some reason, he chooses this time to take out an umbrella from his bag. He opens it, sunshine yellow, and puts it over his head as if he isn't already soaked from head to toe. Then he smiles again, just as bright as all the others, "Bye, Jungkook. Hopefully I'll see you around."

And just like that, without giving Jungkook a chance to say goodbye himself, Taehyung and his yellow umbrella join the mass of other people trying to escape the rain.

Jungkook stands there for a few more minutes, not caring if people around him are bothered by him and his bike blocking half the street. He follows the sight of the umbrella. Only puts his foot down on the pedal when he can't see it anymore.

Kim Taehyung is a strange man.

Jeon Jungkook is more intrigued than he probably should be.

The motel room is definitely worth what he paid for. 

A single bed with creaky springs, a stock photo print of a sunset hanging crookedly on the wall, a flickering lamp on a nightstand. The window view is into the dark alleyway and Jungkook can hear his neighbors moving through the thin walls on both sides. But at least he has a ceiling over his head. He just has to ignore the suspicious brown stains on said ceiling. 

Since he didn’t pack much, there’s no use in unpacking at all. A week from now, Jungkook could be thrown to the streets. He’d rather keep all his stuff ready to go if he needs to. He does take out the bag of chips, though, sits down on the bed and leans against the wall as he slowly chews on them.

Staring at his bag, Jungkook considers the business card Taehyung had slipped inside it and scoffs. Who does Taehyung think he is? Really. Doesn't he have better things to do than worry about some random stranger? Why did he care so much?

Once there's nothing left aside from crumbs and salt in the bag of chips, Jungkook crumbles it up and throws it in the trash can by the door. He stands up and walks over to his bag, zips up the small pocket and takes out the dark green card.

Kim Taehyung

Phone number: xxxxxxxxxxx

Jungkook reads the words and numbers over and over, gets the urge to throw it in the trash too because it's not like he's planning on contacting or seeing Taehyung ever again. Instead, Jungkook flips it in between his fingers and with a sigh, slips it into his coat pocket.

After changing into a t-shirt and the one pair of gym shorts he brought, Jungkook slips beneath the sheets. The fabric is scratchy against his skin. With a place like this, he really hopes there are no bedbugs.  

Somehow, even with the dingy, stuffy room, Jungkook still feels more comfortable than he had back in Busan. 

It was nice enough, nicer than some of the houses he used to bike by.  

Smooth white paint, a dark blue roof, pretty flowers by the entrance and small backyard where he used to play with his older brother.  

They had three bedrooms, one for his parents, one for Junghyun and one for Jungkook. He supposes he was lucky in that regard. It didn’t feel like his though. No matter how many posters he plastered on the walls, it was never his. This motel room isn't his own either, He can't paint the walls or rearrange the furniture. But, for the first time in his life, Jungkook is alone. And that fact is both terrifying and strangely comforting at the same time.

You won't make it here. You'll end up back where you came from. Coward.

Jungkook digs his fingers into his lumpy pillow and pulls the ends to cover his ears in a useless effort to try to muffle the ever so present voices in his head. It doesn't work, it never does. Over the years, Jungkook has gotten used to living with them though. He guesses that means he'll never truly be alone. Comforting, right?

Tears sting behind his eyes, but Jungkook already knows they won't drop so he shuts his eyes painfully tight.

Seoul, the city for dreamers.

Jungkook will see about that.

In a city as big as Seoul, Jungkook thought he could at least find one shitty part-time job to keep him over the surface. But Jungkook has entered every single diner, shop and slightly suspicious hole in the wall business with the hopes of being hired and so far, nothing.

“Sorry, we’re not hiring.” 

It didn’t sting the first time, not even the second and the third. But this is Jungkook’s seventh time hearing these words and the image of him sleeping under a bridge is starting to look uncomfortably clear.

Jungkook digs his fingernails into his palms and sighs. The woman behind the counter looks sympathetic, more than the others that rejected Jungkook did. She's young, maybe even younger than Jungkook, but the circles under her eyes are darker than someone her age should have. Jiyoon, her name tag reads.

"Okay. Thank you anyway," Jungkook says and turns around to leave.

Just as he pulls on the door, the woman yells after him, "Wait! Can you wash dishes?"

Jungkook has never turner around as fast before. "Yes! Absolutely."

"Come get your apron then," Jiyoon says, chuckling under her breath as Jungkook practically sprints back to the counter to take the brown apron from Jiyoon's waiting hand, "Three hours. That's what I can give you."

"That's perfect. Thank you so much, Jiyoon." Jungkook slips the apron over his head and wraps the strings around his waist to tie at the front.

Smiling, Jiyoon shakes her head. "No problem. I've been in your situation before. Are you new to the city?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Like I said, been there before," Jiyoon says and heads towards a door that Jungkook assumes leads to the kitchen. Jungkook follows behind her, trying not to fiddle with the apron strings as he steps inside the kitchen.

Immediately, three heads turn towards them. A man and a woman stop what their doing by the stoves and another man sets down a steaming bowl he was about to serve to a customer. "Guys, chill. This is Jungkook. He's gonna help out for a bit. Be nice."

"Welcome to hell, kid," The man going to serve says. He's clearly older than everyone else in the small kitchen, wrinkles and gray hair and the kind of look on his face that tells Jungkook that he's been here for a while. Tired. Bored. "I'm Yongsu."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Jungkook says quietly as he pushes his back against the wall to let Yongsu pass to the dining area. Yongsu says nothing as he passes, which makes Jiyoon swat the back of his head. Still, Yongsu doesn't even flinch.

"Don't mind him, he's just a little grumpy," The woman by the stove says. Her hair is dyed blonde, but it's clearly been a while since she's had a touch up judging by her dark roots. She's a little older too, probably in her thirties. Livelier than Yongsu. "It's nice to meet you, Jungkook. I'm Hana."

The man beside Hana has already resumed cooking. Neatly styled dark hair, spotless skin. The kind of face that shouldn't be hidden in a dingy restaurant kitchen. Like Yongsu, he is barely showing any interest in Jungkook until Hana nudges his shoulder and clears her throat. He doesn't look at Jungkook when he says, "Junho."

There's a moment of silence as everyone waits for Junho to say anything else. When nothing comes, Jiyoon sighs heavily and lightly taps Jungkook's back. "Okay then, time to work. The sink is over there."

The sink in question is already brimming with unwashed dishes. It's okay though. Dirty dishes means work for Jungkook which means money which means Jungkook can maybe spend another night in the motel.

So, Jungkook puts on the neon green gloves waiting for him by the sink and gets to work.

The hours pass surprisingly fast. Every time the sink is empty, new dishes keep coming. Jungkook gets lost in the monotony of the work easily enough.

The other staff seems nice. Though, Junho and Yongsu continue to ignore him completely, Hana talks to him whenever she's not piled with orders. She asks him questions about where he's from and how he ended up here, how he's adjusting to the new place. Jungkook gives half-answers, not digging deeper into the past than he needs to.

Jungkook wouldn't mind working here full time, but atlas after three hours, Jiyoon comes to tap him on the shoulder to relieve him from his short shift. "Time to go home, Jungkook. Good job today."

"Right. Thank you again for the chance. You don't know how much you just saved my ass," Jungkook says as he takes the gloves off.

Jiyoon smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Glad to help. Come on, I'll give you your paycheck."

Before following after Jiyoon, Jungkook bows to the others. "Thank you for letting me crash your kitchen!"

"I'm just surprised you didn't somehow burn it down. Too bad. I was kinda hoping you would," Yongsu mutters under his breath and is once again ears a slap to the back of his head, this time by Hana, "Aish, stop doing that! You should respect your elders."

"I respect my elders who aren't grumpy assholes," Hana says deadpanned, then turns around so that her ponytail nearly snaps against Yongsu's cheek. She's smiling again as she looks at Jungkook, "Thank you for the help. You're welcome whenever we need help again. Right, Junho?"

"Whatever," Junho says without looking up from his pan.

With that, Jungkook says his goodbyes one more time before following Jiyoon to the dining room. She's already waiting for him there with a blue envelope in one hand and a sticky note in another.

"Here's your payment. It's not much, but it's the same hourly rate we make," She says and gives the envelope to Jungkook who puts it's securely in the inside picket of his jacket. "And here. You can give me your number and I can call if we ever need help again, which we probably will."

Jungkook nods and takes the sticky note and pen to write his number on. "Thank you again. Seriously, I was kinda screwed before this."

"I know what it's like," Jiyoon says as she takes the sticky note back. She turns around and puts it on the corkboard behind the counter, "I left home, Daegu, at seventeen. I got pregnant, my parents threw me out, didn't have any other family. I didn't know where to go, but Seoul seemed like the best place. Believe it or not, Yongsu gave me this job and helped me get on my very pregnant feet. Don't know what or where I'd be without him. Might have been dead, honestly."

"Jiyoon," Jungkook starts, but doesn't know what else to say. He's not sure why Jiyoon is telling him all of this and suddenly he's feeling bad about not telling the whole truth about his situation when she asked before.

Like she had read his mind, Jiyoon shakes his head and smiles. "You don't have to tell me your life story, Jungkook. That's yours to keep if you want it that way. I just…My point is to take the help if someone offers it to you. You're really gonna need it if you wanna survive more than a month."

In his pocket, the green piece of paper Taehyung had given him burns through the fabric and stings on his skin. Jungkook hadn't allowed himself to give it a thought, the fact that he could simply text the number and Taehyung would most likely appear out of thin air like a genie in a bottle. That's what Taehyung made it seem like at least.

"I'm serious, call or text me if you need something. Anything."

Right now, Jungkook needs a bedsheets that doesn't itch and a ceiling that isn't moldy. He needs to eat something beside ramen and someone to sit opposite to him as proper food warms his stomach. Jungkook needs a home. Not the kind he had in Busan. A real one.

Maybe Jungkook needs a little love too.

Is that so wrong?

"You have a lot on your mind, don't you?" Jiyoon asks, pulling Jungkook back to the real world. During his shift, Jungkook had learned that she's two years younger than him. In this moment, it feels the opposite.

Jungkook forces a smile. "No more than usual."

He shouldn't have said that because now Jiyoon truly looks sad. Jungkook hates it. His problems are his own, not anyone elses, especially not someone he has just met three hours ago.

"I should go. I have a pretty long commute and you're probably busy," Jungkook blurts out before Jiyoon has the chance to dwell on his earlier words. Bowing, Jungkook says, "Thank you again."

"Oh, okay! Uhm, I'll call you when we have a shift for you," Jiyoon says, each word going weaker than the last, "Good luck."

When Jungkook steps outside the restaurant, his chest feels tight. He takes a shaky breath in, out and in again. It stings, almost as much as the green business card in his pocket does. Something must be stuck in his windpipe, maybe the piece of beef Hana had offered him. No. It's not his windpipe. It's something inside his lungs.

Jungkook starts walking. He doesn't have a destination, he just knows he has to go, go, go.

Where does one go when they have nowhere else to go but a stinky motel room? He'll really suffocate if he goes there.

Someone bumps into him, or Jungkook bumps into them. Either way, he hears the person curse at him so it must've been Jungkook. Through his uneven breathing, he manages to apologize before he keeps going.

What is probably minutes, feels like hours. It's starting to get dark. Street lamps have colored the pavement yellow. Jungkook still has no idea where he's going. For all he knows he might be walking straight back to Busan. Wouldn't that be ironic?

The river is what stops Jungkook's wobbly feet from moving any further. It's a far cry from the endless sea he's used to looking at, but in the dark Jungkook can almost pretend.

It takes Jungkook a few minutes to find an empty bench that isn't surrounded by other people. When he does, he sits down and closes his eyes, finally gets his breathing to calm down.

The sea was the only thing Jungkook knew he'd truly miss when he left.

He'd often visit, especially at night, and just sit there alone, not caring if he'd find sand in his pockets later. Sea breeze tingling on his cheeks, cry of seagulls high in the skies, endless amount of blue, a reminder that there is a whole world waiting for him if he just took the chance.

It feels like a forever ago. Jungkook thinks he's seen more life in the past two days than he has in twenty-six years. He's fucking exhausted. And cold, hands shaking as he searches for his phone in his pocket.

Except when Jungkook puts his hand in his jacket pocket, the only thing his cold fingers find is the fabric of the lining, loose strings breaking away from the stitches and an empty Home Run Ball wrapper Taehyung had bought him.

No phone. No wallet. No envelope with the money he had just worked three hours for.

Jungkook doesn't panic. He checks his other pocket, empty aside from the card with Taehyung's number on it. When he finds all of his cargo pant pockets empty too, Jungkook checks his jacket again.

Nothing.

Jungkook panics.

No matter how many times he checks all of his pockets, the missing items don't magically appear in his hand. Jumping up from the bench and searching the nearby area doesn't help either. Tracing his steps back is out of question, Jungkook can't remember what direction he came from and god only knows how many corners he had turned on his way here.

Jungkook doesn't even know where his motel is. He had memorized the address, but knowing that doesn't do much when he has no money for transport.

Slumping back down on the bench, Jungkook's entire body is floating away from him, all that's left is his malfunctioning heart and shriveled lungs.

He's an idiot. A complete, fucking idiot.

Why did he think, even for a second, that he could do this? One day and he has already gotten stranded without his phone and all his money lost to the streets of Seoul. He had thought he'd at least make it through a week. No wonder his parents didn't take him seriously, no wonder his parents thought he was useless, no wonder they didn't care when Jungkook left.

If Jungkook could cry, he would. He would cry until the tears formed a line and joined the river. But Jungkook can't cry, no matter how hard he rubs his eyes or digs his fingers into his own skin. Nothing comes.

He could jump into the river and no one would notice him drowning, sinking to the bottom, leaving for the final time.

Nothing's stopping you.

With heavy limbs, Jungkook gathers enough strength to stand up and walk to the fence separating him from the river. He leans against it, stares down at the water, so dark it looks like black sludge.

A sudden sharp breeze of wind forces Jungkook to shield his already cold hands into his pockets.

It would be easier.

His fingers twist the candy wrapper.

For his last moment, with water filling his lungs.

He digs the edge of a thin piece of cardboard into his thumb.

Maybe he wouldn't feel so goddamn empty.

"Oi! Young man!" A voice yells from behind him, making Jungkook flinch and his heart remind him of it's presence by jumping to his throat, "What are you doing?"

Jungkook turns around and his eyes land on an old couple who have appeared on the bench he was sitting at earlier. A woman and a man, faces lined with wrinkles that remind Jungkook of his own grandparents. Their eyes, full of terribly hidden concern, are locked on Jungkook and the man looks close to jumping off the bench with his no doubt creaky knees.

"Oh. Hello," Jungkook says, his voice sounding strange as it leaves his dry throat. It's hoarse, crackly, almost like he had been yelling for a while. Had he?

The old lady smiles, but it's not a happy one. Jungkook has already seen one too many of that kind of smile today. Still, he's too tired to run away from the situation again, too tired to do anything but stand in front of their watchful gazes.

He feels like he has been caught stealing a cookie before dinner, like his parents had seen him have his first kiss with his best friend in high school, a boy who Jungkook was never allowed to see again.

If there was a bed nearby, Jungkook would crawl under it and not resurface until someone forcefully dragged him out by his ankles. But there's nothing but him, the river and the couple sitting on the bench. There's nowhere to hide.

"Are you alright, dear?" The woman asks and it makes Jungkook wonder what he looks like. Not good, probably. Close to jumping into the river, most likely. How long have they been sitting there watching him?

Realizing he has been gripping the fence edge with white knuckles, Jungkook let's go and lets his entire body weight slump against it. He has to clear his throat before he answers the woman's question, "I'm okay."

They don't look convinced. Understandable. Jungkook wouldn't believe him either.

"Why don't you join us?" The woman says, moving away from who Jungkook assumes is her husband to make space between them. She pats the bench and adds, "My name is Minyoung. This is Dojin. We don't bite, I promise you."

Hesitating and still fearing her too kind, sad smile, Jungkook shakes his head. "I'm okay, really."

"You are a terrible liar." Dojin snorts and crosses his arms across his chest. "Look, I don't want to see another kid jump over that fence so unless you want me to drag you here myself, you should join us and sit down."

"I wasn't going to-"

"Sure you weren't."

An urge to fight back against the harsh words that builds up fast. Even though the words cut deep and sting, Jungkook knows they don't mean any harm. There's something pooling in Dojin's eyes. Grief, maybe. The man is holding back tears, closer to crying than Jungkook has been in years. He waits for the first tear to drop, for Dojin to quickly wipe it away to not be lingered on. He's crying for Jungkook when Jungkook himself can't.

The fight drains away even faster than it came.

Slowly, Jungkook takes the first step away from the fence and towards the bench where Minyoung and Dojin both visibly relax. They wait silently as Jungkook crosses the distance. It feels like he's walking through mud, like maybe he had jumped in, survived and is now trailing the dirty river water behind him.

"Do you have a phone?" Minyoung asks as soon as Jungkook is close enough to hear her whisper.

Jungkook shakes his head. "I lost it."

"Borrow this," Dojin says and forces a phone to Jungkook's hand, "Call someone. Family, friend, coworker, 112. Anyone. I don't care as long as they can pick you up and stay with you tonight."

Jungkook stares at the phone in his hand, an old Nokia flip, the exact same his grandpa had. He bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, laughs weakly at the memory of him having to teach his grandpa how to use it.

"The only person I wanna call is long gone," The words are out before he can stop himself.

A hand appears on top of his and Minyoung's quiet, gentle voice accompanies the touch, "I'm so sorry, dear."

Jungkook nods, feels prickling behind his eyes but his stubborn tear ducts don't spare them free. Minyoung and Dojin join his silence, his grief.

Weighing his options, Jungkook realizes there's only one. He obviously can't call his family, not that they would care even if he did. He doesn't have any friends. He had only given Jiyoon the number of his now lost phone and hadn't realized to ask for hers. He definitely doesn't want to end up in the hospital, but he guesses that's where Dojin and Minyoung would take him if he didn't call anyone else.

With a heavy sigh, Jungkook takes out the green business card out of his pocket. He flips it between his fingers for a few seconds, gathering the courage to even read the numbers pressed onto it.

On top of his hand, Minyoung's own moves to turn it around and take the phone back from him. Then, she gently goes for the business card too. Jungkook doesn't stop her, listens to the beeps coming from the phone as she types the number in. She dials and gives the phone back, lifts Jungkook's hand up to his own ear.

It only takes two seconds for Taehyung's rich honey voice to come out of the crackly phone.

"Hello."

Silence.

"Who is this?"

Jungkook inhales, holds his breath until his lungs sting.

"Jungkook?"

Exhale.

"Taehyung?"

"Oh, it is you! I was starting to feel dumb there for a second." Taehyung laughs. The sound goes straight to Jungkook's chest and for a moment, a single second, there's warmth. A strike to a flint. A spark. Weak, but there. "What made you call?"

Jungkook inhales again and when he let's the breath out, it forces out a weak whine to escape from his throat. "I…I don't…"

"What's wrong?" Taehyung asks, no sign of the laughter in his tone anymore.

Jungkook shuts his eyes, presses them together hard enough to hurt. Then Minyoung's wrinkly hand is back on his and the touch gives him just enough strength to blurt it all out. "I lost my phone. All my money too. I'm at the Han river. I have no idea where my motel is. I don't know what to do. I'm so fucking tired. Exhausted. I just…I don't-"

"Okay, wait a second. Breathe, Jungkook. It's okay." There's a pause, sounds of shuffling and footsteps. "Can you tell me exactly where you are?"

Jungkook looks around him. Blurry. Everything is blurry. But, "I think there's a skate park."

"Are you with anyone?"

"Yeah. I met a nice couple. This is their phone."

"Can you ask if they know the address?"

"Okay." Jungkook nods, ask Minyoung for the address. "They said, they'll text it to you."

"Perfect. Stay there, okay? With the nice couple, if possible. I'm coming to pick you up," Taehyung says and Jungkook feels like a child who has gotten lost at an amusement park.

On the line, he hears some hushed whispers not meant for his ears. Taehyung's partner probably.

Jungkook's ruining their night.

A door opens and closes.

He's intruding on their peace and happiness.

Footsteps.

It's fucking pathetic.

He's pathetic.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook mumbles weakly, "I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, Jungkook. Listen to me, okay?" Taehyung cuts him off. A car door opens, but doesn't close, "Remember what I said?"

Jungkook does, has Taehyung's voice saying the words inside his head on a loop. "Yeah. I do."

"Good. Now, why would I have said that and given my number if I didn't want you to call?"

"I don't know."

"I wouldn't have."

"Okay."

The car door closes. There's some more shuffling, the sound of a car waking up, Taehyung's voice, "Can you give the phone back to the nice couple so they can text me the address."

"I'll have to hang up. This is a Nokia flip."

Silence. Taehyung hesitates, but after a few seconds he says, "That's fine. I'll be there soon. Just keep breathing, yeah?"

Jungkook wants to apologize again, the words on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out. But instead, Jungkook inhales the scent of the river. It's not nearly as fresh as the sea in Busan, but it's enough.

"There you go," Taehyung whispers, smile in his tone.

Jungkook pictures it in his mind, searches for the memory of Taehyung's face, his smile, under the fluorescent lights of the 7/11. Exhale. "I'll hang up now."

"Okay. See you soon, Jungkook."

For a second, Jungkook let's the line stay on. Taehyung doesn't say anything else, doesn't hang up either. For some reason, the act of hanging up now feels like a bigger mountain to climb than the act of starting the call did. A minute passes by, maybe more.

"Thank you," Jungkook whispers and quickly presses the red button to end the call without waiting for Taehyung's answer.

As soon as he moves the phone away from his ear, Jungkook's legs finally reaching their limit. He crashes to sit on the bench in the middle of Minyoung and Dojin, lets Minyoung take the phone for him so he can text the address to Taehyung.

It's not Minyoung's hand that rests on top of his this time. Dojin's hands are rougher, calloused like a farmers. He doesn't look at Jungkook when he opens his mouth, choosing to stare at the river instead as he says, "Good job, kid."

Jungkook doesn't know how many minutes it takes for Taehyung to arrive, but it feels like he blinked once and suddenly Taehyung was crouched in front of him. Maybe Taehyung really is a genie in a bottle. Or maybe Jungkook's tiredness has made him delirious.

"Hey there," Taehyung's says quietly and some minutes later Jungkook is being slowly pulled up to stand. Jungkook's bones feel like led. An arm snakes around his back to help him bear his own weight.

Close. Too close. Warm. Jungkook leans into it.

Taehyung's mouth is moving, some words being shared between him, Minyoung and Dojin. In the middle of whatever he is saying, Taehyung seems to catch him staring and he flashes a wonky looking smile and rubs Jungkook's back.

If Minyoung and Dojin say anything to him before they leave, Jungkook doesn't register it. He thinks he thanks them, but he's not sure his voice carries the words out. He hopes it did.

Jungkook moves as Taehyung starts walking.

Somewhere in the back of Jungkook's clouded mind he hears a voice yelling, screaming, warning.

Dangerous.

Go. Go. Go.

Run.

Hide.

Jump.

"Hey, Jungkook? Can you hear me?" Taehyung's voice breaks through the one in his head. Deep, honey smooth, real, right there in his ear. Jungkook mumbles something incoherent even to his own ears, can feel Taehyung's breath against his skin when he says, "We're at my car. I'm gonna help you to get in the passenger seat, okay?"

Jungkook nods, blinks his eyes open and close to try and get rid of the blurriness still making the world look like he's underwater. "Okay."

Maybe if Jungkook was less tired, more in control of his own limbs, he would fight it. He wouldn't get into a strangers car, no matter how warm they feel or how kind their smile looks.

Even in the state he's in, Jungkook realizes it's dangerous. But if Minyoung and Dojin hadn't seen him when they did, Jungkook might be at the bottom of the Han river right now. Forgotten, just another nameless person who thought they could handle life on their own. If Taehyung's smile betrays him, Jungkook will happily surrender. He's got nothing left to lose anyway.

So, he let's Taehyung help him inside the car. The door closes beside him and a moment later the driver's door opens and Taehyung is sat next to him. Quietly, Taehyung tinkers with the radio and soon the car is filled with some calming melody Jungkook doesn't recognize.

The car starts moving. Jungkook doesn't ask where they're going, doesn't really care anymore, just watches the city lights that are reflected on the surface of the river whirl by.

"You hungry?" Taehyung asks.

Jungkook has been hungry since the moment he woke up today. The chips Taehyung had given him hadn't been much nutrition. But right now his stomach doesn't feel any more empty than the rest of his body.

"A little," Jungkook says, lies to maybe make Taehyung worry less because even though he's doing a pretty good job at hiding it, Jungkook knows it's there.

"We have some leftovers from dinner, should be enough for a portion for you." Taehyung's fingers are tapping on the steering wheel, nervous habit maybe. "I'm glad you called."

"I didn't know who else to call," Jungkook whispers before he can stop himself. He has done that too many times today. When he looks at Taehyung, he finds him staring at the road with his fingers tapping the wheel at a faster pace. Jungkook almost apologizes, but instead he laughs weakly and says, "This better not be a cult thing."

Taehyung chuckles and for the first time tonight, his smile looks right. The sight is as beautiful as the lights reflecting on the river, if not more beautiful.

Jungkook turns his gaze back to the river, manages to catch the moment the view disappears and gets exchanged with tall concrete and LED adverts. Slowly, Jungkook feels himself coming back to the world.

"Define what you mean by cult," Taehyung says slowly and Jungkook flips his head back towards Taehyung so fast the muscles in his neck ache.

This is where he really dies, isn't it? He feels sorry for Minyoung and Dojin for having to help him only for Jungkook to fuck it all up half an hour later. He really can't do anything right.

Taehyung doesn't look at him back, not even a glance. Jungkook is silent. Only when the minutes on the digital clock switch from 7 to 8, Taehyung looks at him with his brows furrowed in confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want to jump out of this car." Taehyung laughs. Jungkook doesn't and the lack of it is what finally seems to make Taehyung realize how his question may have sounded like to Jungkook. "Oh my god, Jungkook. I'm not in a cult!"

"Are you sure?" Jungkook asks.

Taehyung smiles and shakes his head as he focuses back on the road. Glancing out the window, Jungkook sees they're turning into a parking garage. A very fancy one by the looks of it.

"I guess I should be relieved you still have that survival instinct in you," Taehyung says as they stop by the gate so he can tap in the security code to get inside.

Jungkook doesn't need to ask to know what Taehyung meant. He had talked to Minyoung and Dojin. They told him. Of course they did. Jungkook doesn't know why he had thought they hadn't. Maybe because Taehyung hadn't asked. Turns out he didn't because he didn't have to.

Letting the comment hang in the air between them, Jungkook relaxes back into the seat as the gate lifts and the car starts moving again. Taehyung drives all the way to the back of the garage, passing by the fanciest cars Jungkook has ever seen in real life. Tesla's and Ferrari's and BMW's.

After skillfully parking in his spot, Taehyung turns to look at him again. "Sorry. We don't have to talk about it right now."

Right now. Jungkook doesn't like the sound of that. "How about never?"

Taehyung opens his mouth, thinks better of his words, presses his lips together in a tight smile. Wrong. This smile is all wrong too.

"Let's just focus on getting through the night first. You're hungry and exhausted and probably in need of a good bath," Taehyung pauses, "Actually, maybe we'll save the bath for-"

"I won't drown myself in the bathtub, Taehyung."

"Just making sure," Taehyung says and lifts his hands of the steering wheel and holds them like he's being held at gunpoint. He's doing a weird thing with his face, brows knitting together and lips turning downward into an almost flipped smile. It's weird, but it doesn't look wrong. And Jungkook? Jungkook surprises himself.

A laugh leaves his chest without him having to force it, natural and light.

The sound seemingly surprises Taehyung too, because now he's looking at Jungkook with an expression Jungkook has yet to meet. Lips parted, eyes rounded and glimmering.

Right. So right that a spark ignites in Jungkook's chest. For some reason everything about this moment feels correct. He's sitting in a strangers car after nearly jumping into the river and he just laughed. Jungkook can't even remember the last time he laughed without it hurting. And it feels right.

There's another thing bubbling in his stomach too, a feeling he rarely has allowed himself to feel with full force. This time, he lets it simmer there for a few seconds, gets used to the feeling even though he knows it's dangerous.

Once Taehyung's glimmering eyes get too difficult to look at without doing something really fucking stupid, Jungkook forces himself to look away at the concrete wall in front of him instead. He can feel Taehyung's eyes linger on him for a little longer though, is not sure what to do with that so he just plays around with a loose thread on his pants.

It takes Taehyung longer to snap back into himself than it probably should. Jungkook tries to not think about what it means as Taehyung clears his throat to say, "Look, I gotta tell you something before we head up to my apartment."

Jungkook quirks his brow. "That sounds kinda ominous."

"Don't worry, it isn't anything bad," Taehyung says, but Jungkook notices a shift in his tone. For some reason, Taehyung sounds nervous, "It's just…Did I mention that I'm in a relationship?"

"Yeah. He's from Busan, right?"

"Jimin is yes," Taehyung says, pauses to consider his next words. Then carefully, quietly, "Namjoon's from Seoul, though."

"Oh."

From all the things Jungkook thought would leave Taehyung's mouth, this was not one of them.

"So, you're in a…throuple?" Jungkook says slowly.

"Well, I guess with six people it's enough to be called a polycule."

Jungkook is not sure he heard that right. "Wait, six?"

"Me plus five, yes."

He says it likes it's nothing, just another everyday thing because for him it is. It isn't for Jungkook though. Maybe that's why, for the first time since he has met Taehyung, he looks truly nervous, nibbling on his bottom lip as Jungkook sits silently next to him with his jaw hanging loose.

Growing up, Jungkook was taught that there was only one right way to do things when it came to love. A man and a woman, married until one gets buried underground. A picture perfect family with obedient children to continue the line.

For the first ten years of his life, Jungkook never questioned. He went along with it, ignored every other form of love he sometimes accidentally stumbled on in books or TV. A man and a woman. That was how it was meant to be.

Until he met a boy at eleven years of age. Until that boy became his best friend. Until thoughts of holding that boys hand popped up in his head uninvited.

He was still too young to understand why it was happening, too young and scared to disobey with exploration, so he pushed the thoughts away because there was only thing he did understand. A man and woman.

The tapping of Taehyung's fingers have stopped, instead he grips the wheel hard enough to probably leave indents in the leather. For Taehyung, waiting for Jungkook to figure out what to say must be like waiting to see if a ticking time bomb will actually explode.

If Jungkook was ten years younger he probably would've cursed Taehyung out, told him he was sick because not only is Taehyung in a relationship with a man, he's in a relationship with five other people.

But Jungkook is twenty-five and though he is still confused about a lot of things when it comes to himself and life overall, he's kissed one too many boys and lived vicariously through the life of made up people on screens to be confused about his own feeling anymore.

"I think that's cool," Jungkook says and Taehyung visibly relaxes with a long exhale. Jungkook wonders how long he has been holding that breath in for, "I mean, you've found five other people who you love and who love you back. That sounds pretty great to me."

"Yeah, it's…it's pretty great." Taehyung smiles, fond, the kind of smile Jungkook imagines is only reserved for his partners. "We live together so you'll meet them soon. Actually they've kinda been dying to meet you. You're the reason we avoided another 'Namjoon lost his notebook' crash out. You've been a popular topic in our household."

Uninvited anxiety spreads across Jungkook's entire body at the thought of having to meet another group of new people tonight. Having to overcome his shyness with the restaurant staff was already enough socializing for one day, not to mention Minyoung and Dojin.

Jungkook must really be bad at hiding his emotions because Taehyung rushes to add, "It doesn't have to be tonight! I already told them to retreat to their rooms for the night to give you space. You've had a long and…exhausting day. Everyone understands that."

The anxiety doesn't go away, it never does, but it's easier to breathe when Taehyung is smiling.

"Did you tell them about what Minyoung and Dojin told you?" Jungkook asks without elaborating more. The word for what he was close to doing feels too raw to say out loud.

"I didn't," Taehyung says, "But just so you know, my partners aren't the type to judge. You don't have to pretend to be someone else to make them comfortable. You don't have to pretend you are okay. Never with us."

"You don't know me, though." I shouldn't matter that much. There's no reason for you to be so kind.

"You're right. But that's just how we are," Taehyung says like it's nothing, like he isn't telling Jungkook things he hasn't even heard from his own parents, "Now, come on. There's a home cooked meal and a soft bed waiting for you."

Jungkook felt lighter when he stepped out of the car, like he's finally returned to the world when they stand in the elevator. He's not fully there yet, he's not even sure what that feels like or if he'll ever get there. But as Taehyung guides him down the hallway, gentle hand at his lower back, there's a tiny part of Jungkook that's glad he still has the chance to find out.

Still, there's the other part of him whispering at the back of his mind.

This won't last.

Taehyung opens the door to his apartment.

You shouldn't be here.

A warm glow beckons him in.

You should've just jumped.

Taehyung gives him a little nudge. The touch is not forceful more of a reminder that he's still here, that Jungkook isn't alone right now. He waits until Jungkook is ready to step inside before following after him.

The entrance of Taehyung's apartment alone is already the fanciest room Jungkook has ever stepped in. Marble side table and a large mirror with a thin silver trim. A crystal chandelier hangs from the high ceiling, on the floor a real handwoven Persian rug, cream and various shades of green.

At first glance, it seems like just another model home highlighted in a high end interior design magazine. Looking past that though, there's the signs of actual people who have made the space their home. Shoes spilling out of the closet onto the hardwood floor, keys and mail spread across the side table, a trash bag waiting for someone to throw it out, post it notes stuck to a magnetic board next to the mirror.

You don't belong here.

Taehyung kicks off his shoes and Jungkook follows. His dirty old sneakers look out of place no matter how much he tries to line them up nicely next to the others, especially when Taehyung puts his leather loafers right next to them.

For the first time, Jungkook wonders what Taehyung truly does for work for him to be able to afford a place like this. Jungkook had assumed that he was just another business mogul, but Taehyung's way too young to have achieved something like this. Before he can ask though, Taehyung starts walking down the hallway and Jungkook once again silently follows after him.

The feeling of not belonging in a place like this follow Jungkook to the dimly lit living room and Jungkook can't control the "wow" that escapes past his lips.

In the middle of the room is a large cream couch that looks more comfortable than any bed Jungkook has ever slept on. Across from it, a flat screen TV displaying a moving fireplace. Filled to the brim bookshelves and art that looks like it's straight from a gallery. A rug Jungkook very much wants to sink his toes into. The stairs leading up to a lofted area is what shocks Jungkook the most though, the fact that there's even more space in this already huge apartment.

There's signs of life here too, signs of home. A few empty soju bottles and an abandoned boardgame on the coffee table. An unfinished knitting project on the couch and an open book placed facedown on the armrest.

It's easy for him to picture six people living here, all together, a family of their own choosing. Jungkook can't help but think about what they were doing before he called and interrupted their night. Taehyung had said they all understood, but Jungkook has a hard time believing that.

Past the stairs that lead up to the lofted space is a long wooden dining table with eight chairs. There's a single plate set on in, steam rising into the air. Jungkook pads to the table to take a closer look, Jajangmyeon, a note next to it that clearly spells out For Jungkook in neat handwriting.

"Oh, they already heated it up for you," Taehyung says as he joins Jungkook by the table, "Dig in, it's all yours."

And while Jungkook is still feeling less hungry than he's supposed to, he eats. The food is in his stomach in minutes. It's the best meal he's had in what feels like years, maybe ever. When he tells Taehyung that, he receives another smile.

"You can thank Seokjin tomorrow. But not too much. His ego is already big enough as it is," Taehyung says jokingly, revealing another name to fit in the puzzle Jungkook is creating in his mind.

"Noted," Jungkook says, repeats the name Seokjin inside his head until it feels familiar.

From the kitchen, Taehyung leads Jungkook down another hallway. There's three doors, all closed, one on either side and another at the end. Taehyung points at the door at the end and tells Jungkook it's the bathroom, says he's free to use it whenever he wants because the others mostly use the ones upstairs. Even the concept of having more than one bathroom is strange to Jungkook, let alone the fact that there's enough bedrooms to comfortably fit six people. Well, seven people now.

"We prepared this one for you," Taehyung says as he opens the first door from the hallway entrance, "Only guest use it, so it's pretty basic, but it's all for you to do as you please."

For now. It's all for me, for now. Jungkook has the urge to say. It's not like he's planning on staying here. Only for tonight.

Apparently, Taehyung's concept of basic is very different from Jungkook's because the room he steps into is far from it. Three times the size of what his bedroom in Busan was, pristine white walls and floor to ceiling windows with a view that makes the streets of Seoul look small.

Over a rug that's the color of the ocean at midnight, is a double bed with a simple white duvet cover, a throw blanket that matches the blue of the rug and enough pillows to build a fort with. With slow steps, Jungkook walks to it and feels the sheets with his fingertips. Soft, still warm and smelling like freshly washed laundry without it being overpowering to his sensitive nose.

"There's some clothes in the closet for you," Taehyung says silently as to not startle Jungkook in the silence and nods towards the closet built into the wall, "They're stuff from us that we never really wear anymore, so you don't have to worry about returning them."

To Taehyung, all of this, the clothes and the food and the freshly washed sheets, might only be a small gesture. To Jungkook though, they mean more than Taehyung probably realizes.

Even though the bed beckons him to sit down, Jungkook doesn't listen yet. He's not about to sit down on pristine sheets in his grimy clothes. So, instead he walks to the closet and opens the doors to reveal three shelves filled with everything he might need to survive without a laundry machine for at least a couple of weeks.

"Taehyung this is… " Jungkook starts to say, but can't bring himself to finish.

"A friendly gesture." Taehyung is beside him suddenly, a hand hovering over Jungkook's shoulder blades. "Non refundable."

Jungkook huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, doesn't try to refuse because he knows it's a battle he'll lose. He's been down this road before. Taehyung is a stubborn one. So, instead, Jungkook takes a white t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and boxers with the tags still on from the closet.

With the clothes in his arms, Jungkook nods towards the hallway. "I'll go take a shower if that's okay?"

"Go ahead! It's good to wash the day away," Taehyung says and leaves the hallway with Jungkook following after him, "I'll be in the living room so just…come say goodnight, yeah?"

"You don't have to wait for me. You're probably tired too."

"Not any more than you are."

Jungkook sighs. Another battle he definitely can't win. "Okay."

Of course the bathroom would match the luxury of the rest of the apartment, so Jungkook isn't surprised when he steps into the bathroom and sees marble counter tops, a shower that could easily fit three people in at the same time and a corner tub against another floor to ceiling window.

He strips his clothes off and folds them neatly to set on the counter top, before stepping under the warm shower water. Leaning his forehead against the cool tile, Jungkook let's the stream run down his back. If someone had told Jungkook 24 hours ago that he'd be showering in a fancy bathroom like this, he would've laughed in their face. And to think that all it took was him finding that book.

You don't belong here.

Weakly, Jungkook collides his fist with the tile. It stings, but not enough to make him believe that this is real and definitely not enough for the voice inside his head to shut up. It would take a lot more than a measly punch to the wall for that to happen.

A cold plunge into the river.

Alone with his thoughts again, Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut as they flood his head like a tilde wave.

Dying is something Jungkook has always been indifferent to. The inevitability of it has always been there, but Jungkook can't say he has ever been scared of it. He hasn't gone searching for it before, but he would be lying if he said he has actively avoiding it. Death has just always been there, looming at the back of his mind like a gun waiting to be taken.

There has always been thoughts, voices whispering in his ear of wanting to step in front of a moving car or holding his breath under water until his brain ran out of oxygen. He hasn't listened to them before though, not like he did tonight.

He doesn't necessarily want to die, but he certainly doesn't want to be alive either because if this is what life is like, Jungkook is sure it'd be better to just cut it short.

The river isn't going anywhere.

"Shut up," Jungkook mutters to himself, to no one, to the voices inside his head.

Then, Jungkook does what he always does when his head starts feeling like a storm cloud. He floats, body moving on autopilot. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash. Another fist collides with the wall. The sting spreads over his knuckles. Water stops streaming.

Next to his pile of clothes on the counter top, is a fresh towel waiting for him. Jungkook dries his hair until it's damp enough to still be acceptable and then dries the rest of his body before putting on the clothes lent, well, gifted apparently, by Taehyung and his partners.

Scared of what he would find in the mirror, Jungkook avoids looking at himself. He doesn't need to see the shell of a human that would stare back, bitten lips and dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

Like he had promised, Taehyung is waiting for him in the living room.

Taehyung has changed clothes, lounging comfortably on the couch in a wine red pajama set while scrolling on his phone. It drops from his hand as soon as he seemingly hears Jungkook's footsteps approaching and he jumps off the couch to come meet Jungkook by the dining table.

"You look better," Taehyung says quietly, as he not so subtly looks Jungkook up and down before returning back to his face, "Not that you looked bad before. It's just…Well, I guess you feel better?"

Jungkook doesn't think he does. If anything, he feels worse than he had fifteen minutes ago before the shower. He doesn't say that to Taehyung though, he looks too hopeful. So, instead, "Yeah."

To his credit, Taehyung tries to look like he believes Jungkook. He's silent as he gently takes a hold of Jungkook's wrist and leads him to the bedroom, silent as Jungkook crawls under the covers and sinks into the soft mattress. It's only when the lights are turned off and Taehyung's standing in the door frame that he says, "I'm in the room across the hall. Come wake me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay."

"I mean it. Anything."

"I know."

Jungkook can barely see Taehyung face in the dark. The only light is coming from the hallway, creating a soft glowing halo around Taehyung's form. Still, even in the dark, Jungkook sees a small smile lifting Taehyung's cheeks. So beautiful.

"Good night, Jungkook," Taehyung whispers, "I'll see you in the morning…or whenever you wake up. Don't worry, no one's gonna force you out of bed before sunlight. You need the rest."

"That's an understatement," Jungkook says with a sigh. Taehyung laughs and Jungkook has to pull the blanket over half of his face to hide his own smile, "Good night."

Taehyung stands there for another minute, but he doesn't say anything else. Jungkook doesn't either, closes his eyes and pulls his knees up to his stomach. The next time he blinks his eyes open, Taehyung is gone.

When he left Busan. Jungkook never thought this would be where he'd end up only a day later, some strange, kind, millionaires apartment that he apparently shares with his five partners. The Han river would've been a more believable destination, Jungkook wouldn't have been surprised if someone read his future and told him that's where he'd end up. Here though? No way. Yet here he is.

Jungkook is in a comfortable bed with soft, freshly washed sheets. There's art on the walls, real art made with love and care and human hands. A view of the impossibly big city. No suspicious stains on the ceiling, definitely no bed bugs. There's a nice man sleeping across the hall from him who left the door cracked open just enough for a line of glowing light to disrupt the darkness. A beautiful man who, for some reason, looks at Jungook like he matters.

There's still voices in his head and a creeping weight crawling up his chest.

For now though, Jungkook will sleep and he'll wake up right here. Or maybe he won't. Maybe it was all a dream and he'll wake up back in Busan in his old suffocating room.

At least, in the end, it was a good dream.