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He took a drag from his freshly lit cigarette, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, his other hand grasping a cheap lighter. The night was still young, maybe he could find a party girl to hook up with. His lips released a puff of light gray smoke as he laughed- he innocently flicked the lighter in his hand, watching the flames come alive under his command. The glow of yellowish orange surrounded his face, the only light backstage, casting innocent shadows and outlines against the dark wall of red curtain.
He could still hear the crowd just beyond the crimson velvet- the low drawl of their chatter only penetrating his ears in muffled sounds and idle noises.
A few bumbling girls passed by, and he sent a wink to the cutest one in the bunch. She giggled annoyingly, and was about to say something, but the one beside her quickly took her hand, leading her off, away from him.
He frowned, but understood.
He was the one that parents warned to stay away from- the creepy, lone rapper wannabe with the alluring voice, so mysterious, so unknown.
Yoongi chuckled. The irony- he was nowhere near that shady personality that everyone looked at in curious stares. He was very down to earth, and had no intention of corrupting anyone. He was just doing what he loved, even if he had to do it in the dark, in the corner bar on the outskirts of town. He huffed out another puff of smoke, leaning back to rest against his lonely seat.
It barely paid the bills. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Or so he thought.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”
He faltered, cigarette almost falling from his lips. That voice-
His eyes looked up as he tilted his head toward the newcomer standing right beside him. His gaze traveled across the plains of a well-rounded face, a strong jaw, those plump lips, those haunting dark eyes that he remembered, filled with so much pain, so much hurt.
Because of him.
Now they stared down at his hunched figure, with so many emotions, Yoongi couldn’t just pinpoint one. Not that he needed to. Those strong arms were bare as the navy blue tank top hugged the others body, the leather pants clinging to those powerful legs like a second skin.
He reached up and took the white stick from his mouth, releasing a low breath.
“That looks good on you.”
The brunette chuckled, almost making Yoongi smile.
“You would say that first.”
“You know I would.”
“I do.”
The silence stretched further, both of them not exactly sure about how to continue.
Yoongi, who thought he would never see the other again, had gone out of his way to make sure that another meeting with his older ex-lover would be impossible.
Seokjin. The newcomer who wanted so desperately to talk to him again, at least try to get a reason for Yoongi’s betrayal so many years ago. He had been about to give up, but he was lucky, that night.
“Why- why did you leave? I would’ve understood-“
Yoongi scoffed, suddenly shy and not sure why. “No you wouldn’t. I had already made up my mind about dropping out of college. You would have tried to stop me, making a big scene about me throwing my life down the drain. I’ve got news for you- I like it here, in the drain, the sewers. No one knows my name, and I don’t have to tell them-“
He cut off. Seokjin would never get it, would never understand his dark calling.
The older man was silent. Yoongi was right, of course he was. This was what he wanted.
“You- started smoking again.”
“Because I missed you.”
The sincere words penetrated Seokjin’s skin, and it took half a second before he was right in front of the sitting man, soft hands cupping his cold cheeks. Their eyes met and Yoongi moved to put out his cigarette on the wall before flicking it away, opening himself once again to the older Korean.
His lap was full of a familiar body and he eagerly returned the sharp kiss planted against his numb lips.
How could he let this happen- let Seokjin find him. He didn’t want this.
But he couldn’t make his body listen. It knew what it wanted, even after all the time that had passed. He still knew every inch of Seokjin’s tall, masculine frame.
And Seokjin knew his.
They parted for air, the older man gently pulling on his lower lip with his perfect teeth. His head dropped, not meeting Yoongi’s eyes. The smell of tobacco hung heavy in the air.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t have understood. But- you didn’t have to run from me. You don’t know how lost I felt, how defeated. I thought we had something good going for us, and then you acted like that- I thought, you hated me and I didn’t know why. I blamed myself- I-“
“I could never hate you. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring you down with me. To this level.”
He remembered. That night, about three years ago, he had invited Seokjin out on a date. It seemed normal enough to the older man, until Yoongi drove him home. They had been lovers since Seokjin's senior year in high school, first for the thrill, but it soon became apparent that they couldn’t live without each other.
That’s why- it had hurt so much. Yoongi had politely declined his invitation to come in, and, instead, walked him to his door. They shared a kiss under the twinkling stars, but as Yoongi pulled away, the brunette knew something was wrong.
“Let’s, break up, hyung.”
“What-“ Had he heard right? But Yoongi cut him off.
“This isn’t working. I need something different, something you can’t give me. Please don’t come looking for me.” He pecked Seokjin’s unresponsive lips, too in shock to comprehend what was going on. His thoughts ran a mile a minute, and time seemed to slow as Yoongi walked away; his voice wouldn’t cooperate, he couldn’t stop him from leaving as he watched the tail lights drift away into the darkness, the red fading and fading until the colors disappeared.
The colors from Seokjin’s life disappeared.
He had tried to find him the next day, only to learn that he had already withdrawn from all of his classes, moved apartments, and changed his cell phone number.
Yoongi never forgot that last look in Seokjin’s eyes, that defeated and utterly helpless look in those once lively chocolate brown eyes.
He had known immediately that what he had done was a mistake, but he had already made up his mind- the underground called to him. He bought a new sound mixer, a nicer one, and compiled all of his lyrics together, only to realize that most of them were about Seokjin.
He kept them. Added a tune, a beat; the melody flowed as those stupid lyrics poured from his mouth like the tears dripping down his face.
That night he bought his first pack of cigarettes in t years, wanting to forget but not being able to toss out those precious memories.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
The question made him focus on the older man in his lap once more. And, for the first time in years, he was honest with himself.
“I did.” He felt Seokjin flinch against him. He leaned forward more, arms securing tightly around the older man’s lithe waist, head fitting nicely against the curve of his neck. “But I-I did miss you. I was just too much of a coward to crawl back to you. I hurt you, I know that. I never wanted to, but-“
Seokjin’s own arms curled around his shoulders and the younger man loved the feeling of the bicep pressed against his now hot, flushed cheek, basking in the glow of the simple skin to skin contact.
“Can’t you- have both?” Seokjin whispered. “I know you love rapping in front of a crowd of strangers, nameless faces that you’ll probably never see again. But is it so bad, that one out of a few hundred knows who you are? I watched you tonight- I really, want you to continue doing something you love with so much passion, I could see it as your eyes swept over the crowd; you didn’t even notice me.”
He grasped the smaller man tighter. “But, please, I’ve finally found you again. Please don’t turn me away.”
His voice sounded so broken. Yoongi brought their bodies even closer, feeling Seokjin’s legs tangle with his own under the chair. He couldn’t let go, even if he wanted to.
His heartbeat was loud as his head pounded, finally feeling complete after so many years, so many wasted years. He had made the biggest mistake of all, letting Seokjin go, forcing himself to back into a corner with no emotions left to give.
He came undone, letting his resolve go, as his fingers curled around the fabric of Seokjin’s tank top.
His body was so hot, having that familiar form against him once more- he had been hiding, but now that Seokjin had found him, he realized what he had been missing, even though he had given into his longtime dream.
The feeling of being alive.