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"Have you ever thought of leaving this place?" Taehyung asks, letting his head rest on Yoongi's shoulder. For a moment, Yoongi freezes, fists clenching and unclenching as he reaches for Taehyung's hand, but he retracts it before he could even put his hand on top of Taehyung's. There were boundaries, he knows of it—because he’s the one who set those for himself.
"Of course I have." he says, quietly, his voice sounding rough as if he's just woken up from a dream. Granted, Yoongi's voice has always had that rough texture to it, but today, with the harshness of the cold winter air biting into his skin, his voice sounds a little hoarser. His throat feels dry—clogged up with things that he wishes he could say but can't bear to—and he coughs into the side of his curled up fist, body heaving with the motion. Taehyung whines at being jostled, but instead of moving away from Yoongi and glaring at him, he leans in closer, choosing to wrap his hands around Yoongi's arm instead.
"This place is home, but it isn't exactly the best place for me." Yoongi can't help but say it—Daegu has never been the same place ever since his older brother left to work in another country given the nature of his job, and it has long gone stopped feeling like home to him when his parents had a divorce. Now, it felt less and less like a place where he belonged in when his friends started leaving one by one, disappearing off into different places.
But no matter how many times he thought about just packing up and leaving the empty house that he grew up in and start a new life, he can't seem to just do it. Because even when he felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, it was as if Taehyung was there, sitting with him, peering down at the bottom fearlessly and grinning back at him with all the careless abandon only he could have, and quoting that movie that he liked a lot. "You jump, I jump, remember?"
"Then, you're going to leave me here?" the pout in Taehyung's voice is evident, but when Yoongi looks over at him, he's grinning.
The smile doesn't reach his eyes—it rarely does nowadays; not after Seokjin had left for Seoul and they haven't heard from him anymore; not after Jimin had to move with his family to Busan, the tears shed from his departure still fresh in Yoongi's memory; not after Namjoon had left his home after having a fight with his parents over him wanting to choose his passion for music over a more practical future and started camping out in a seedy part of town, where he gets the money he lives by with by working at a gas station; not after Jungkook had disappeared without so much as a trace, as if he was just a ghost that came by to make a home in their hearts, only to just leave without a single word.
For a while, it was just fine—life went on, no matter how many people walked out of it, and it felt like they would hold on. But then Hoseok's sister got into an accident and he hadn't left their house ever since the funeral. Now, it feels like it's just the two of them clinging on to each other in hopes of fate not ripping them apart.
And yet somehow, they manage—it feels weird that it's only the two of them now, sitting side-by-side on the empty platform of the abandoned train station, the floor smeared with dirt that's been there ever since Yoongi can remember and the railroads rusty from disuse. Soon the snow will cover everything up with a blanket of white, and Yoongi feels like he could envision it as a new start—a marked canvas that's been splashed over with so many colors he can't distinguish one from the other, being painted over with white primer and turning into another blank canvas.
They weren't even the closest amongst their group of friends before—in fact, they clashed a lot: Yoongi, with his sharp tongue and inability to express things in a kinder manner, always getting straight to the point, no matter how harsh his words may sound, and Taehyung, with his frequent inquisition about things that sometimes didn't make sense and his tendency to turn noisy. They weren't the best match per se, but somehow, they learned to rely on each other, most especially now that it's just the two of them left in their group of friends.
And Yoongi—Yoongi would always deny it whenever Seokjin used to tease him about having a soft spot for their younger friends, getting all overprotective whenever they end up on the brink of trouble, but still, he knows it's the truth.
He guesses that Seokjin probably knew about his feelings for Taehyung too, growing as slowly as the way flowers would bloom during spring, but only chose to keep quiet about it, knowing that Yoongi isn't exactly the type to put his feelings out there in the open. It's a weird thing, this unspoken understanding between the two of them, but Yoongi guesses this is why he got along with Seokjin well the most, and not just because their ages were close.
"Do you want us to go together?" Yoongi asks, and this time, he lets himself be bolder—lets his hand to finally reach out and touch the back of Taehyung's hand, lightly, as if testing himself.
"Together," Taehyung breathes, looking up at Yoongi. Like this, with his eyelashes fluttering as he blinks lazily up at Yoongi with a smile on his face, Yoongi feels like it's just perfect—that he's quite possibly, just perfect. His smile isn't the same as before—boxy and too wide that Yoongi feels like if he so much as lets the corners of his mouth stretch further, his cheeks are going to hurt—but it's hopeful, and Yoongi thinks, that probably, that's what makes it look like the most beautiful smile he's ever since. "I like the sound of that."
Taehyung screams, leaning his stomach against the railing, and Yoongi almost forgets to pull him back so he won't fall because the smile on Taehyung's face reminds him a little too much of the old days. It's beautiful, and it reminds Yoongi of the way the sun rose every morning, painting the bleak colors of the blue sky at dawn with patches of orange, and the feeling that he gets that somehow, although yesterday might have been not that much of a good day, today will surely bring something better. "Don't lean in too much, you'll fall."
"But I've already fallen. For you." Taehyung says, adding in a wink, and for a moment, Yoongi is at loss for words. Sometimes he forgets how shameful Taehyung can be, especially with the rather glum aura surrounding him lately, and he stutters.
"Yah, Kim Taehyung, stop saying things like that." Stop saying things that you don't mean.
Taehyung raises an eyebrow, judgmental, and for a moment, Yoongi is reminded of how Seokjin would give him a questionable look whenever he and Taehyung would "shamelessly flirt in front of everyone without any of you realizing it" (Seokjin put those words in his head, and even now, he couldn't help but keep thinking of it that way). "Hyung, you're blushing. Is it because it's the other way around?"
"You punk!" Yoongi slaps a hand across Taehyung's back, face heating up in embarrassment, and Taehyung doubles over in pain. Yoongi is about to apologize, hand already reaching out to rub soothing circles on Taehyung's back, but then Taehyung is already cackling. "I'm going to tie an anchor to your leg and throw you into Geumho river so you can't come back."
"You can't drag me all the way there hyung, it's too far." Taehyung wipes at the tears from the corners of his eyes, the last bits of laughter leaving him, and Yoongi mock-punches him.
"But actually, maybe you should." Taehyung says, the words puzzling Yoongi himself.
And then it hits Yoongi—Taehyung casually mentioning how sometimes, he doesn't want to go to school and just ride on the next bus to Seoul, or find a train leading to Busan, or walk to wherever his feet would take him, as if it was just a random thought in passing and not something that he's thought of a lot; how Taehyung would close his fingers around Yoongi's wrist and tug, with just a little less force than before and asking him what places he wanted to go to for a vacation. Now Yoongi understands why Taehyung so readily agreed to go on to this impromptu trip with him to the rooftop of his old high school, even when he used to say he didn't want to go there because he thinks Yoongi's classmates will chase him away with pitchforks (there was a rumor that spread around town that one of the students there literally chased a random passer-by carrying a torch and a pitchfork, shouting gibberish like a real barbarian, but it was never proven to be true. Yoongi thinks he knows the cause of the rumor though—after all, he knows that a lot of his classmates take drinking games a little way too seriously).
Although he doesn't know the exact reason behind it, Yoongi knows that something is definitely bothering Taehyung. He keeps hiding it with smiles that never quite reach his eyes anymore and laughter that doesn't sound all too genuine, and maybe this is the point where Yoongi should step up and ask him, except he doesn't know what to say.
"Ah, it's really nice here though. I must say I wasn't expecting the view up here to be as nice as this." Taehyung says, the expression on his face changing right away. He smiles, looking out down the view stretched out before him. "I feel like I'm free."
And this, Yoongi understands. Back when he was still studying here, he used to spend his time in this rooftop a lot—it made him feel like he was, somehow, a little bit close to flying. And it was great to feel weightless—like nothing in the world could hold him back down; like he was really, truly free. He hums in agreement, leaning against the railing himself.
Yoongi feels a weight on his back and arms wrapping around his body, and he freezes for a moment, muscles tense. He feels the ghost of Taehyung's breath against his neck, and he feels a shiver run down his spine. "Why are you hugging me?" he asks, when what he meant to do was turn around and hug Taehyung back.
"It's getting cold." Taehyung says, squeezing Yoongi's middle and burying his nose in Yoongi's neck. When Yoongi doesn't move, Taehyung's grip loosens. "Is this okay?" Yoongi feels like Taehyung's about to let go and move away, so he closes his eyes and tugs at Taehyung's arms, bringing him closer.
"Hyung makes the perfect heater, right?" Yoongi says, rubbing his hands on Taehyung's arms to warm them up. It's still cold even when they're wearing jackets, and Yoongi could only imagine how colder it would be when the snow finally starts falling. Taehyung's chest rumbles against Yoongi's back when he hums in acknowledgment, and he burrows his nose again in Yoongi's neck, his breath leaving goosebumps on Yoongi's skin. "You can stay here, for a while."
"Can I stay here for longer?" Taehyung ask, voice sounding smaller, like during that first time they've been introduced to each other when he was still in middle school and Yoongi in high school. Except now things are a little different.
"Okay." Yoongi agrees, without even waiting for a heartbeat.
"Where are you going?" Taehyung asks, eyes wide as he takes in Yoongi's getup—black from head to toe, with a face mask dangling from one ear and a backpack strapped to his shoulders. It's a miracle how he managed to sneak in the window of Taehyung's room when he had a backpack that size, but it's Yoongi, and he has his ways, no matter how unconventional they were sometimes.
"I can't be sure." Yoongi says, but when he smiles, Taehyung realizes that maybe, he does know. "You want to come with me?"
Maybe it's somewhere deep in the heart of Seoul; maybe it's somewhere there, in the seas surrounding Busan; maybe it's out there, in the outskirts of Daegu, or in one of the apartments they've been to before, already familiar with the ins and outs of the building. Still, wherever it was, Taehyung's got an answer already.
"Are you kidding me?" Taehyung says, already grinning. "We promised that we were going together, right?"