Chapter Text
“Hey! Watch where you’re going.”
It’s the fifth time he bumped into someone, at least he thinks so. He’s lost count of it and he honestly doesn’t care. Jeongguk has his head casted down, hands in the pockets of his suit slacks and he hears someone –an offended voice of a girl- muttering under her breath before sauntering her way out –her heels clacking on the cobblestone- obviously pissed off because of his lack of manners and apologies.
And Jeongguk doesn’t give a flying fuck.
He didn’t know that all it takes a matter of few seconds for someone to lose everything.
But he got slapped hard with this unprecedented harsh reality on the fateful day his girlfriend of three years dumped him over a text, a fucking text, if it’s not the worst way to break up with someone. And exactly a week after, today, she was smiling heartily while hanging off the arm of another man –maybe some chaebol who has a perfect family background unlike Jeongguk’s: which he’d not rather talk about- and froze on the spot the moment she caught the sight of him. How ironic, it was supposed to be him putting that gold band on her finger; the scarily vivid image of it now has been painfully branded under his eyelids. The hushed, panicked and rushed words she whispered to him still ring in his ears once she snapped out of her utter shock -shock is an understatement with the way her kohl rimmed eyes widened and red stained lips twisted, fingers nervously tracing that eyesore of a ring.
“Just leave Jeongguk. Please don’t try to start anything, the ceremony should go as smoothly as possible. Besides that, I didn’t even invite you, just- just leave, and I’m… sorry alright? I didn’t mean to, but things happen. And it meant to be this way. You’ll meet someone better than me.”
As if Jeongguk would fall into her sugarcoated, cautiously executed lies again. Not when she glued an obviously fake, wide smile to her lips and chattered oh so amicably with her future in laws about how handsome her groom looks in that white tuxedo and gushing about the diamond necklace he gifted her after proposing her.
Now, wandering mindlessly through the sidewalk, Jeongguk wonders if she was remotely interested in him while they were dating, planning out their future: getting married, living together in their own little apartment (and it’s a blessing that they didn’t live together, because he wouldn’t ever share a bed with a goddamn cheater, the thought of it makes him nauseated and gut twisting), they even decided upon having three children –one girl and two boys- and to raise a puppy because “I’ll get bored and lonely when you’re not home Jeonggukkie,” and Jeongguk lets out a bitter snort because it’s obvious as hell that she was never bored and lonely to begin with, as all she was doing was hopping on other dicks behind his back.
He was pathetically and stupidly in love, that there wasn’t even a tiny fracture of doubt about her, not even when Yoongi told him to stay away from her because she was not what he thought she was.
Yoongi was not much of a social person, he was quite introverted and reserved, but was witty and snarky, with a knack for reading people so well that Jeongguk admittedly forgot about, which was why he was Jeongguk’s closest person.
Yoongi was never fond of Jeongguk’s relationship with her, and always told him that he can do better, like Yoongi could see through her carefully built façade of a sweet, pretty, educated and well mannered, classy young lady who loved Jeongguk to the moon and back and the last time she said that, they were on a fancy dinner date at an expensive Italian place, just two days before the breakup.
Jeongguk wants to run, to run away where his feet takes him to and never come back.
It was his initial reaction this morning, after showing himself at his ex’s wedding and catching a glimpse of the onslaught tabloid articles about his parents’ divorce on his way to the company: just when he thought this couldn’t get any worse.
But his fate decided to prove him wrong as he was forced to sit through a board meeting about the company sales hitting rock bottom, shareholders and executives waving off various reports and getting into heated verbal battles, and Jeongguk was just sitting his ass in his reserved chair, the golden palette reading Executive Vice President and Jeongguk stared at the way it gleamed under the rays of sun seeping out of the royal blue curtains, shutting himself off to every noise around him, and specially the sight of both his mother and father sitting stiffly straight at their respective seats, and God, was it the most uncomfortable situation he got himself into.
Another awkward glance shared between his parents and Jeongguk had it, and he stood up abruptly and stormed out of the suffocating room, leaving everyone to resort into a stunned silence.
Good, it was too noisy there anyway, and now they can miss him with all that resounding yapping and he could have his peace and quiet.
He was out and away from the massive building in a matter of two minutes, getting into the almost empty elevator except for two female employees who bowed their heads when he entered, and kept them down for the entire ride, as if sensing the waves of anger radiating off his frame.
He ignored the greetings and the bows of respect, brushing off the slight murmuring –obviously about his fuming and disshelved appearance: his perfectly coifed hair falling over his eyes, his silky black tie a little loosened- as he stepped out of the main entrance. He couldn’t exactly blame them because Jeon Jeongguk was nothing but calm and collected, polite at its best, never the one to show attitude.
Jeongguk collected his keys from his chauffer, getting into his sleek black Audi and throwing his head back into the headrest, the familiar throbbing of an oncoming headache hitting him in waves. He took a deep breath and slowly released it in puffs, the prickling at the corners of his eyes getting more intense.
But he can’t, he loathes to let the tabloid and gossip sites’ headline of the next morning to be “Jeon Jeongguk, the young heir to the Softlogic Enterprises and the most sought after handsome chaebol breaks down inside of his car!” in obnoxious bolded red letters.
He didn’t need any more bullshit scandal to add up to the never ending list of Jeon family scandals, because according to the book, the journalists must had been caught a whiff of his past relationship with his ex -the young heiress to a successful hotel chain- what with his sudden appearance at her wedding. God knows how many dating scandals under his name, varying from celebrities, models, actresses, chaebols and to even his friends and employees, reducing him into some kind of Resident Fuckboy who screws any living thing who moves but all of those are a bunch of bullshit which he doesn’t know how the fuck they did come up with. He couldn’t deal with any more headache.
But he wouldn’t be there to answer their stupid annoying questions about the shitfest going on now because the journalists can eat his dust when he leaves this place.
He hastily unknotted his tie, dropping it somewhere and opened the first two buttons of his dress shirt, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows and a moment later, he was driving through the busy Gangnam streets under the flickering lights of evening, past the speed limit, when the first few tears rolled down his face.
+
Taehyung is feeling peachy. Peachy keen.
There isn’t a particular reason for his extremely good mood, but the finals are over, no more cramming at ungodly hours in the library, no more piles and piles of homework and assignments due next day, no more stale salty food at the college canteen and most importantly, no more half assed showers as the water supply cuts off every twenty minutes because their dorm is well facilitated like that, fuck that.
He’s got his summer vacation and finally going home, his beloved Daegu.
That’s why Taehyung is sprinting off as his life depends on it with his luggage dragging behind him, because otherwise he’ll be late and miss his fucking train.
The train is already taking off when he enters the Seoul station, but from now, it’s an easy task at his hand.
“Wait!” he shouts out loud and a startled blond haired boy by the doors looks at him, dumbfounded.
“Come on, gimme a hand.” Taehyung says, exasperated and that’s when the guy snaps out of whatever trance he was in, and extends a hand out for Taehyung.
“These needs to go first.”
Instead of grasping on to his hand, Taehyung passes him one of his many bags -the one he shoved his clothes into, or is that the one with his manga collection? He’s not really sure because all he spent for packing was approximately two and half minutes- and the guys stares at him incredulously and Taehyung doesn’t have time for bedtime stories now. He actually likes telling bedtime stories but not at the moment.
“Dude, just take it and put it inside. I swear it’s not a time bomb and no, it won’t blast in your hands.”
With that, the guy’s cheeks dusted into a slight shade of pink and he grabs the heavy luggage from him and Taehyung studies the guy for a bit, his posture is kind of awkward but he has a quite handsome actor’s face and those broad shoulders.
“Watch out! Those are glass!” Taehyung hollers at the fourth bag, in which he stuffed his lab kit and several extra test tubes because he loves them and he can’t leave his babies at dorm alone.
He can literary feel the way Jimin choking on a snort and obnoxiously rolling his eyes all the way from Daegu.
He can’t wait to see his best friend after six months of separation because daily skyping and texting aren’t the same as physically hugging him to death, bitching about this and that and doing all that fun bro shits.
He misses Jimin so much.
“Oh my God, hurry up you’re gonna miss the train holy shit!”
The guy’s panicked, shrill voice breaks through and that’s when Taehyung notices that the train has slowly accelerated its speed and it’s going to pull out from the station any second now.
There goes the fun part.
Taehyung takes a deep breath and runs through the platform along the moving train and holds onto the guy’s hand frantically waving at him. He sort of crashes on to the poor guy’s chest, his head knocking the latter’s chin and the guy yelps at that, clutching onto the now sore spot.
“Shit, sorry bro. Kinda lost my balance for a sec.” Taehyung chuckles, patting the guy’s shoulder once, twice and then, “by the way, your shoulders are fucking goals man.”
The guy chokes then and there, descending into an awkward cough and Taehyung grins, “Hi, I’m Taehyung. Thanks for the hand? Um…”
“Seokjin,” the guy offers and fixes his light pink sweater a little, and adjusts his OBEY snapback after running a hand through his blond hair and Taehyung swears it’s the most weird choice of fashion he has ever seen. Even more than his and that says a lot.
“Cool. Thanks to you, my record is still enact. I’ve never missed a train in my life.”
The guy, Seokjin, stares him down unblinkingly for a moment before frowning hard at him, eyes narrowed. “You could have fallen down and broken your neck but now you’re telling me it’s for saving a goddamn record? Jesus. Unbelievable.”
Taehyung winces because he’s getting war flashbacks from the time his roommate Hoseok quite dramatically cursed his whole existence for almost two hours that one time he accidently drowned their notes in an avocado smoothie, and they had to rewrite all of them pulling an all-nighter and he had to make up for Hoseok by buying him an extra-large pepperoni pizza, his almost empty wallet wailing in the confines of his pocket.
Jesus he needs new friends. He should purge. Like, as soon as possible. But who is he kidding, he loves his asshole friends.
And like that, ten minutes later, Taehyung leaves for his reserved seat with Seokjin’s number in his phone and a brand new friend in his list, like the social butterfly he is. He’s as sure as the wind blows that this day’s going turn out exactly as he planned and to everything to go swimmingly.
+
Jeongguk is tired. He’s tired and sleepy.
But seems like the luck is not in his side (like always, he bitterly reminds) because his seat is so fucking uncomfortable with a non-existent leg room. He squirms on the spot, trying a different position, soon giving up altogether because the lady in front of him glares when he accidently knocks on her knee. But he doesn’t pay any heed, leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment of sleep. He falls into a shallow slumber, where he’s half asleep and half awake, and all he could see were his memories flashing before his eyelids like a movie, his dad gifting him a toy bicycle on his fifth birthday while his mom snaps a picture of him, seven year old him at the amusement park tugging his smiling parents behind, that time when him and her went to see fireworks at Han river-
Jeongguk snaps his eyes open, breathing hard and heartbeat quickening, palms sweaty.
He can’t be that weak. He’s not weak, in any means of the word. He’s a strong and independent businessman in a need of some time off of some unfortunate inconveniences happened in his life, not a young man in a verge of breaking down and moping around.
He looks out of the window, the sky painted in pretty shades of oranges and violets, the last rays of sun lingering in the background. The constant rattling sound of the train is somehow soothing to his ears as he stares into nothingness, indulging himself in a strange sense of calmness.
And that’s until an offending hand comes into his peripheral view and he stares at it blankly, the way long, slender and pretty fingers snapping at him, quite mesmerizing.
“-hey! Dude, hello? Can you hear me?”
He whips his head towards the smooth, honey like voice, and the owner of the said voice sighs heavily, brushing off some brunet strands away from his forhead. Gorgeous is the first word comes into his mind when he glances at the stranger, he has the looks to walk on a runaway; tanned skin, beautiful almond orbs with long eyelashes, and Jeongguk pays attention more than necessary to the cute mole on the tip of his nose, what the fuck is wrong with himself.
“Thank god I thought you couldn’t hear me. Anyway, dude, that’s my seat.”
The gorgeous guy in a white sweater –which has been cut into an impressive number of different sized holes; an interesting style, Jeongguk muses- exclaims, his tone cheerful while gesturing towards Jeongguk.
But Jeongguk continues to stare vacantly at the way the other’s lips move, the words muted and distant.
“-oh my god that can’t be- right? You can’t- can’t talk?”
He hesitantly asks, sympathy and concern dripping from his voice and all Jeongguk can muster is an unintelligible, “huh?”
And then the guy lets out the breath he unconsciously held and whips out some piece of paper from his pockets.
“You’re sitting in the wrong seat. You see the number here? This is number twenty five. Twenty. Five. My. Seat.” He explains in an exaggerated manner, pointing something in the piece of paper and gesturing wildly at the said seat, purposefully dragging and emphasizing the last words like teaching how to pronounce spaghetti to a preschooler and Jeongguk almost, almost gets offended.
He doesn’t though, instead silently moves onto the seat in front of him, internally huffing as being treated like a fucking baby, although it’s entirely his fault for acting like a dumb loser in the first place.
Damn, he’s so out of it. It seems like all the ridiculous shit happened in a span of 24 hours finally taking a toll on him and royally fucking his brain over, he doesn’t know what he’s even doing, about how he ended up in this goddamn train. The last coherent thing he did was driving past Seoul and then getting out of his car, and walking, walking and more walking.
Everything is a huge question mark hanging before him and he needs to close his eyes and, preferably shut himself from the world before he actually goes insane.
He hears faint chuckling sound so he glances around, locking eyes with the stranger who’s staring at him with twinkling eyes and a weird looking smile -a kind of smile that showcased all his front teeth and pulled his lips into a rectangular shape- enhancing his pretty features more -like an ethereal angel maybe- and Jeongguk cringes at his own thoughts.
“You look like shit dude, no offence.”
To say Jeongguk is taken aback is an understatement, he’s quite literary caught off guard and tripped over by the guy’s straightforwardness and Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say nor do except staring at him in mild shock and to let out an incredulous, “excuse me?”
“Wow, cool dude. I mean, you’re the true definition of a smoking hot guy but, y’know, at the moment you look kind of a hot mess? In a non-sexy way?”
Jeongguk always prides himself of his trademark resting bitch face and his natural ability to school his expressions into a cool nonchalance, not getting easily swayed by the emotions like the true businessman he is. But that mask that he always relied on seems to be effect less ever since meeting this guy wearing sweaters with holes and smiling like the sun shining out of his ass and Jeongguk is really, really annoyed because he is making him all flustered.
Jeongguk gauges the guy’s expression in a calculating manner, the genuine curiosity mirroring in his pretty eyes and the small tug to the corner of his lips, like he actually wants to just sit there and have a conversation with Jeongguk –about anything other than about board meetings and contracts, how to fix a motherfucking bug or some coding shit, or the newest summer collection of D&G (and the endless shopping trips with his ex that followed) or those fake ass small talks people made whenever they wanted to make an impression on Jeongguk- and it’s, to be honest, strange and new. And Jeongguk doesn’t like strange and new things.
But Jeongguk isn’t a rude dick who ignores people who’re being nice to him, so he decides to come up with some lame reply out of politeness.
“I know.”
It came out strained and forced than he initially intended and the guy frowns a bit at that, but as soon as a look of understanding flashes on his face.
“Had a bad day?” the guy presses on, and Jeongguk can’t bring himself to dig up fresh wounds now, he always believed that sometimes, it’s better to ignore his problems and to leave them at the dark, deep recesses of the bottom of his mind is eons better than diving head first into them.
“Kind of,” Jeongguk curtly replies, gaze diverting out of the window again, conveniently ignoring the burning presence of the other guy.
From the corner of his eye, Jeongguk can see the guy settling comfortably on his seat, settling comfortably meaning that he’s perched on the fucking seat with his legs crossed, elbows propped up with his chin resting atop his entwined hands and Jeongguk almost chokes on his snort seeing the dirty look that middle aged couple sent. This guy is really something.
“You know, everyone has bad days,” he starts and Jeongguk closes his eyes and takes a calming breath to not scowl, he thought he made the point clear that he didn’t want to continue this conversation. Well, apparently not.
Jeongguk just hums, which comes out more like a pained grunt but the guy doesn’t catch that, leaning more into Jeongguk’s direction with an amicable expression.
“But I don’t really feel bad about anything nowadays, to be honest. I’m like, peachy as ever whatever shit happens. You know why?”
And Jeongguk doesn’t. He isn’t paying attention to whatever this guy is babbling at the moment, instead observing that cute little mole at the tip of his nose, and Jeongguk really questions his sanity because he can’t keep his eyes out of it, fucking hell.
And the guy also don’t bother with Jeongguk’s absolute lack of response -which is zero at the moment- and a full blown smile spreads over his face and momentarily blinding Jeongguk at the intensity of it.
“Because I’m in love,” he proudly exclaims, hands spreading out and eyes twinkling with something akin to adoration, smile softening into a fond, warm tug of lips and Jeongguk absolutely hates to admit that his heart softened a little.
How can someone be like that? So in love that he’s practically bursting with happiness, and Jeongguk knows it’s petty, but he feels a wave of bitterness flushing down, engulfing his entire frame.
Bitter of what? He honestly doesn’t know. And he doesn’t want to find out either.
“He’s a real nice guy. We’ve been dating for almost three years now, and I’m sure he’s the one for me.”
“And can you believe we met in a public washroom? I almost dropped my iPhone into the sink and out of nowhere, he just popped out and saved my baby in time. Isn’t he amazing?”
Jeongguk has his lips drawn into a thin line, eyebrows raised and his most intense Are-you-for-real-the-fuck-you-saying look on, but the guy continues nevertheless.
“I gotta say I freaked out a little, okay, I almost jumped out of my skin, but who wouldn’t though, I literary had my dick out a minute ago and just zipped up my pants, I thought it was some freaky pervert trying to grope my ass.”
Well what the fuck. Does he even have any filter?
“The first thing I said to him was, well thank you but stay out of my dick.”
Nevermind.
“Fast forward six months later, we became boyfriends. And note to self: don’t take washroom selfies unless you want screen mashed into pieces. It’s all cool though, because I met the love of my life.”
And does Jeongguk want to hear the weird ass love story of some random guy when he himself is freshly dumped on and in an emotional crisis? Absolutely not.
Jeongguk calmly stands up, picking up his jacket and walks past, escaping the now silent guy’s curious eyes.
He doesn’t look back until he reach the tiny washroom (and he grimaces at the reminder) and stands behind the sink, hands gripping tightly onto its sides. He studies his reflection in the mirror and even in the dim light, he can see he indeed, looks like shit.
He is a hot mess in all kinds and his eyes are rimmed red with nasty eye bags forming under and Jeongguk thinks he has never looked this awful, not even after that one time he rebelled against his parents and got piss drunk and woke up with a bitch of a hangover, like he had barely survived a zombie apocalypse.
Jeongguk splashes his face with cold water multiple times and stares into the mirror again.
How pathetic.
+
Taehyung is bored.
He has already played several games on his phone, browsed twitter, jammed to some Drake and even played with a loose thread of his sweater, wrapping and unwrapping it around his pointy finger, before he sighed out of boredom.
Seriously where did that guy disappear to?
Taehyung assumed he was off to washroom, maybe to go get freshened or something, but it’s been exactly twenty seven minutes and fourteen seconds (no Taehyung didn’t count, he absolutely did not) and whatever business that guy must have should be over now, unless he’s suffering from diarrhea that is, which Taehyung doubts.
That guy is really hot, so handsome as if specifically carved by Adonis himself, and Taehyung admits that he’d date him if he weren’t already in a perfect relationship. Judging from the expensive ass Rolex on his wrist and that perfectly tailored Armani suit hugged his perfectly sculptured body in all the right places, he is quite well off. Like the type of rich who go to galas and donate million wons on a weekly basis, sip expensive white wines in flutes perched on luxury leather sofas, own multiple penthouses in Gangnam, walk in closets filled with branded clothes, shoes and accessories, play golf in the weekends, that kind of rich.
Is he an actor? An idol?
Taehyung quickly shakes those off, if that guy was an actor or an idol, this train would be flocked with hordes of rabid fangirls by now. Thank fuck, he doesn’t want to subject himself into that kind of misfortune. Maybe a politition’s son? A mafia boss? Taehyung shivers at the last one, but judging from the look of cutting a bitch and punching few brick walls the guy flashed, it’s not exactly a reach. But Taehyung isn’t pleased with idea of being in one point five meter distance away from a criminal either, sweet Jesus.
All his wild guesses are quite frankly make him both highkey excited and lowkey terrified, so instead of feeding into his imaginations he gets up, suppressing a yawn, lumbering towards where the guy left.
And then there he is, knocking on the washroom door twice, but no response coming in. So he decides to just fuck it and pull the handle, the door is surprisingly unlocked, and he’s stumbled upon the sight of the hot guy’s broad back, muscly arms gripping the sink so tight it might snap, head thrown back, exposing his defined Adam’s apple. If there’s such thing like of Angsty Hotness in the dictionary, Taehyung’s sure a capture of what he’s seeing right now would be under it.
Taehyung tries to compose himself, but there’s a blush forming on his cheeks, and he shouldn’t feel this affected. It’s not like he hasn’t seen any attractive men and women before, but he’s breathtaking, in a whole new level.
The guy still hasn’t taken notice of his presence, just brooding in his own world, so Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly. The guy flutters his eyes open, casting a glance at Taehyung over his shoulders and he catches a flash of vulnerability on his tired eyes before it quickly forges into an intense gaze devoid any emotion, and Taehyung is truly flabbergasted.
“I just wanna, um, use the- ugh,” Taehyung stutters, and he has never stuttered in his life, shame that he was even in the highschool debate team. “I wanna wash my hands, if you’re done there, that is,” he lets out in one breath, hopefully it didn’t come out as rude.
The guy wordlessly moves aside, and Taehyung does a fake show of thoroughly rubbing his palms under the splashing water and when takes a peek after, the guy is standing with his arms crossed, burning a hole into the floor. Seriously what’s his problem to be that crestfallen, like he’s lost his puppy?
“Tickets please misters.”
A middle aged man in a uniform by the opened door drawls in an uninterested voice and Taehyung groans, whipping out his ticket from his pocket and the man barely casts a look at it and nods, diverting his attention to the guy, who cares less about the whole situation, still drowning in his own little bubble.
“And you, sir?”
He whips his head up and Taehyung is surprised that he even heard that, but the lost expression on his face says otherwise.
“Ti-cket?” Taehyung draws a rectangle in the air and the ticket collector looks at him like he’s grown two heads.
“You have a ticket right? Just show it to him, so we can go back into our seats and have a nice little chat, maybe,” Taehyung says hopefully, beaming at him.
The guy flashes a confused glance around, then frowns. “I don’t have a ticket.”
Taehyung just gapes for few crucial seconds, before snapping his mouth closed.
Did he just, accept being a fare dodger? Is he dumb? Judging from the few encounters he’s had with him, he isn’t dumb, he gives off smarty pants vibes actually. This guy just, simply doesn’t give a shit. Taehyung concludes.
The man has his both eyebrows raised, smirking, before he starts jotting down a note, and Taehyung seriously needs to do something.
“He… actually kind of forgot to buy one,” he turns to the old man and but the latter just raises his brows higher, writing more enthusiastically, and Taehyung knows he has to go an extra mile to save this case.
“His grandma…” Taehyung starts off in a somber voice, a soft sigh escaping his lips and suddenly the man’s hand stops, his full attention is now on Taehyung.
“He got a call from his family, that his grandma suddenly fell sick and asking for him. He’s now rushing to the hospital, to see her as soon as possible, and do you honestly think he’d care about such an irrelevant shit like buying a ticket?” he lies through his teeth -the years of practice of bullshitting through his assignments showing- and points towards the guy whose expression is unreadable, “and just look at him, his puffy red eyes. He just loves her so much that he couldn’t stop crying.”
The guy visibly stiffens at the last sentence but before Taehyung could wrap his mind about why, a tired voice interrupts.
“Alright, I’m letting this go. But don’t do this again.”
Taehyung lets out a breath, shoulders setting loose; that was close.
“But you have to buy a ticket now, as expected,” Taehyung nods happily at that, but the guy hasn’t uttered a word yet. What kind of a hardass.
“Where to, sir?”
The guy’s face is etched with the same blank expression now before he asks, “to where does this train go?”
Is he actually out of his fucking mind?
“He’s still in shock,” Taehyung fake laughs, and the middle aged man directs a suspicious look at him, but Taehyung keeps his eyes on the guy instead, glaring at him in secrecy, and gritting out his next words simultaneously in an unnaturally cheerful voice . “Busan! Busan is the last stop. You told me earlier that you’re from there remember?”
Without even getting an answer, he turns to the ticket collector, beaming a blinding smile at him.
“One ticket to Busan please.”