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“b-but it’s girly, and weird,” jeongguk peered over the pudgy case carefully, a dim fear flaring low in his eyes as he kept his hands held tightly behind his back, worried of contracting its “girly”ness just by touching it, “and i want a cool one.”“and i’m telling you that i don’t have a cool one right now okay?” seokjin groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, “look, mom said i had to give you some of my stuff for school but she didn’t say anything else. if you don’t like sailor moon then that’s not my problem.”jeongguk puffed his flaming cheeks out, the agitation he was trying so desperately to convey to his elder brother lost somewhere amidst squawked words and a restless mind. so he tried again, calmer this time.“it’s not that i don’t like sailor moon, i mean i think she’s really pretty an- what?” he glared at seokjin’s raised eyebrow, “i-i-taehyungie has a spiderman one and jiminie has a hulk pencil box and i really really want an iron man one, or at least thor, so can’t you just take me to the shop to buy me one?”“no.” seokjin answered shortly.he sighed seeing jeongguk’s eyes conveniently filling with tears, knowing deep down that he would have been throwing similar fits if the roles were reversed, “look gukie, just use it for your first week okay? i’ll look through my stuff and find you another one by then.”“but the first week is when you make friends,” jeongguk’s hands caught in the front of his little hoodie to stress his point, “it’ll be too late by then,” he was really hoping his dramatics were appealing to seokjin’s more fabulous side, but the chances of the situation changing seemed slim.“then you’ll learn that being cool isn’t everything,” seokjin patted his head comfortingly.jeongguk sniffed, big eyes trembling with excitement at a sudden prospect, “maybe joonie hyung has one?”“i am not-“ seokjin cut himself off exasperatedly, seeing the dumb hopeful expression on jeongguk’s face, “i’ll ask him.”“right now or-““i’ll ask him jeongguk, that’s all i’m promising. now go away.”jeongguk sniffed again, little hands coming up to reluctantly clutch at the sailor moon pencil box, “it’s almost like we’re poor or something,” he grumbled, making his way towards the door.“what was that?”jeongguk shot seokjin a sweet, toothy grin, “nothing hyung, goodnight.” ……… “that’s lame,” jeongguk blinked up from the page he was scribbling over. shading if you asked him but the crayons had created more of a mess than anything.“what?” it was one of the older kids, the cool ones that had been coming to art class a lot longer than jeongguk, he could feel his little rabbit heart starting to pick up pace just at being spoken to.“i said your pencil case is lame,” he didn’t sound particularly mean, conversational in fact as he sat down next to jeongguk. he looked off into the distance, as though someone else entirely had said that.“oh,” jeongguk looked at the box, frowning slightly, “it’s a box.”“that’s even worse.”“sorry.”the other boy shrugged, “i kinda like it.”now jeongguk was terribly concerned, he worried what growing up must do to your brain. he had always comforted himself by knowing that seokjin was just insane and namjoon slightly eccentric, but the more he saw of adult life the more confused he was. even if this child was no more than six years old.“do you……want it?” jeongguk tried, unsure whether the boy was still paying any attention to him.the boy looked at him, cheeks hollowed out with air, “no, not really, i just think sailor moon’s kinda pretty.”maybe he wasn’t that insane afterall.jeongguk lit up, sitting straighter and grinning blindingly at the other, “i think she’s pretty too!”“cool, i’m yoongi by the way,” the kid added disinterestedly, watching the other children for someone else to go and bother.“i’m jeongguk.”“do you uh,” yoongi looked at him, sleepy smile finally breaking onto his little face, “wanna watch anime together sometime or something?”jeongguk bit his lip, “i’m only allowed to watch tv for an hour on the weekends. and my mom doesn’t let me watch just any anime, she says some are scary.”“oh,” yoongi chewed on his sleeve contemplatively, wheels turning to come up with a plan, “do you want to be my boyfriend?”“what?” jeongguk scrunched his nose, unsure of what exactly that word meant.“like my big sister, she has a boyfriend, hoseok.”“okay?”“do you want to be my boyfriend?”“why?”yoongi sighed exasperatedly, “because then i can protect you from scary things and your mom will let us watch anime.”“oh!” jeongguk felt stupid for taking this long to figure out the plan, “okay.”“cool,” he had gone back to looking disinterestedly at the other kids drawing.“do you think joonie hyung and seokie hyung are boyfriends?” jeongguk frowned, an eerie realization dawning on him.“probably,” yoongi shrugged knowingly.the bell rang, shattering jeongguk’s deep thoughts abruptly, yoongi disappearing almost instantly out the door with his little power rangers backpack. seokjin stood in the doorway grinning, jeongguk ran up to him to show him his art.“it’s a horse on top of a house.”seokjin squinted at it, “…..okay. hey good news, joonie found you a mickey mouse pencil box so you don’t have to worry about looking girly anymore.”jeongguk smiled, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, “great! i can give it to my boyfriend. come on hyung, last one out is a dumbass.”“give it to your what?” seokjin spluttered, hurrying after jeongguk towards the car, too stunned to call jeongguk out on the word “dumbass”.“my boyfriend hyung,” jeongguk rolled his eyes, “keep up.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The fairylights are already beginning to blink and gasp out of life by the time Jungkook steps out of the crowded gymnasium, and honestly, it’s a bit fitting. The sharp sting of cold evening air is a welcome change from the throng of heated bodies that continue to dance, feverish, between the confines of condensation sweating walls. Outside it is quiet, the music more bass than melody, skipping along to the beat that plays, steady if not a little anxious, within his chest. Jungkook wishes, more than anything, that he had accepted that drink Hoseok hyung had offered him at the start of the night.Maybe it is too pathetic to be crying on the steps of the University gymnasium when it hasn’t even struck midnight yet, but Jungkook doesn’t think there should be an official time one is allowed to cry. If anything, he feels obligated to. It isn’t every day that one breaks up with their boyfriend in the middle of prom now is it? But then again the middle of prom bit is probably Jungkook’s fault, all the red flags had been right there and he had wilfully ignored them. He thought love would be stronger than casual mistakes. But right now, the sky bleeding frosted blue across a starless canvas, the door resolutely closed as no one makes to pursue him, love seems little more than a childhood fantasy.He leans heavy against the railing, not caring for the sticky grime that flakes away with the paint onto his skin, numb to everything. Tears roll large and emotionless down his cheeks, a small part of him more relieved than upset though he gives in to the small heaving gasps that push at his lips. God, he’s so tired. He doesn’t want to do it all over again, the meeting someone, liking them, saying yes to first dates and then first kisses and maybe even –A soft click distracts him, the sudden heady scent of whiskey sharp as he inhales. He blinks his eyes open, sniffing slightly, an engraved silver flask held before him.“You look like you could use a drink.”Jungkook turns, a little breathless, his lungs constricted with an odd mixture of nerves and grief. It is the basketball captain, Min Yoongi, Jungkook would recognize him anywhere with the number of posters of him around campus. Ridiculously handsome and just a touch withdrawn, his eyes mysterious as though he knows all the secrets of the universe. Those eyes are watching him now, a slight crinkle of concern though he’s smiling, indulgent almost, in the golden fairylights.Jungkook wipes at his eyes, straightening up and coughing the sobs from his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize anyone else was out here,” his voice is still clouded, thick with words he’s been forced to keep to himself.Yoongi clicks his tongue dismissively, turning to hook his elbows over the railing. “Nothing like a good cry at a school dance, that’s what they’re for.” He grins and it’s lazy and soft and Jungkook feels the knots in his chest begin to loosen just a fraction.Jungkook offers a weak smile, “is that what you’re doing?”“I’m actually hiding from my friends.” He looks down at his flask, bemused. “Figured if I had to go in to watch them slobber all over their girlfriends I needed to at least be a little tipsy first.” He holds it out to Jungkook again.Jungkook takes a hesitant sip, the whisky barely watered down, stinging his eyes and nose immediately as he tries his best to elegantly swallow it down. He goes for another before handing it back letting the burn of alcohol melt away any thoughts of cruel words and stupid fights.“Jungkook, right?” Jungkook looks up, Yoongi scratching at his nape, his voice too casual. “I uh saw you sing at the summer festival. You were really great.”“Oh,” Jungkook says, unable to get his thoughts in order, a slow warmth spreading through his chest. “Um, thanks.”“I’m Yoongi.”“I know,” Jungkook says, blushing instantly when Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you play, many times, not many many times, like a normal amount. You’re a really good captain.”Yoongi smiles slightly, looking down as he takes another sip from his flask. “Yeah?”“Yeah.”For a moment they stand in silence, the beat from inside reverberating through the floor, up to Jungkook’s unsteady mind. He startles when he realizes his thoughts have already wandered from Hyunjin, slunk away from his always too tight grasp, slipped through the door into the infinite night and instead come to settle over the boy standing next to him, quiet and patient.“So are you hiding from your friends too?” Yoongi asks, gentle. It is deliberate how he allows Jungkook to discard his tears as though they were never there, but attentive still, his gaze watchful.Jungkook sighs, “something like that.” Yoongi tilts his head, curious. “Just idiot boyfriends and – well, ex-boyfriends I guess. I don’t want to bore you.”“You can if you want,” Yoongi offers, “or we could play a game.”“What kind of game?” Jungkook sniffs again, wiping at his eyes that’s he’s sure are red and puffy, his nose is probably red too. God he looks a fool doesn’t he?“Uhh,” Yoongi blinks, unsure as he shuffles, a sudden hesitation on his face. “I actually thought you’d want to talk.”Jungkook snorts, slapping a hand over his mouth as he tries to choke back the sound but a horrendous chuckling laugh rips through him. Yoongi stares at him, eyes slightly wide clearly horrified but he can’t stop, something hysterical to the emotion clawing up his throat. Then Yoongi breaks, a crinkle to his eyes, a slight huff of breath and he is laughing too, all gums and teeth and Jungkook has to struggle hard to breathe. They’re breathless over a joke that wasn’t even a joke, just some mumbled words but it feels right, weightless almost.“Wait, wait, I do have game,” Jungkook catches his breath, emboldened by this one shared moment, allowing himself to draw just a little closer in his excitement.“Do tell,” Yoongi says, grinning, not pulling away.“I make a statement about you. If it is correct, you drink, if it is incorrect,” he reaches for the flask taking another small sip, “I drink.”Yoongi watches him, thinking it over as he chews on the inside of his cheek. “Very well, go ahead.”Jungkook clears his throat, straightening up as he tucks back some hair. He is suddenly oddly nervous, unsure what it was he had wanted to say. He finds his tongue moving on its own, loosened with alcohol, laying his own fantasies over Yoongi. “You are a very good cook.”Yoongi is looking bemused, his gaze never breaking from Jungkook’s, something goofy about the way he tips his head. He sighs, grabbing the flask and taking a long swig. Jungkook grins, shuffling slightly in a small celebratory dance before he’s interrupted by Yoongi’s words. “Ok my turn.”Jungkook stops. “What?”“What we weren’t gonna play one-sided were we?” Yoongi huffs, turning to lean against the railing and pushing him slightly with his shoulder. “You are,” he scrunches his face up as he thinks, glancing up at the rain-promised sky, “a dancer.”Jungkook leans next to him, not drawing away when their shoulders press close. “Yes,” he says softly.“Don’t just ‘yes’ me,” Yoongi waves his flask under Jungkook’s nose, “drink drink.”Jungkook takes a dutiful sip, the edges of the world just starting to glow brighter.“You didn’t come with a date tonight.”Yoongi drinks.“You came with an asshole and you deserve better.”Jungkook hesitates, unsure whether it is a question or a statement but Yoongi is already holding out the flask, uncorked. So Jungkook takes it, Yoongi’s fingers warm when they brush against his. It sends sparks shooting through his skin, his brain blanking momentarily though he hears his own voice as though it is coming from a distance.“You’re really short for a basketball player.”Yoongi turns his head slowly, a look of pure disbelief on his face as his eyes meet Jungkook’s. Jungkook stares back, a little shocked that he said something so rude, unsure whether he has been offensive or not. Yoongi reaches out a hand and shoves the flask Jungkook is holding smack against his chest. “Drink,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up though he tries to look serious. “I’m not.”“Yes you are.” Jungkook retorts mindlessly.“I’m not.”“You’re really tiny.”“Less talking more drinking,” Yoongi says, waiting for Jungkook to finish, his eyes bright in the golden light. He opens his mouth to speak but hesitates, glancing sideways at Jungkook.“You like to eat.”Jungkook frowns, squinting at him. “Everyone likes to eat.”“Okay let me rephrase,” Yoongi adjusts, turning to face him, “you want to leave this sorry excuse for a party and come eat with instead.”Jungkook stares, skin instantly tingeing a shade of pink he would be embarrassed to admit later when his friends pester him for details, the words clogging in his throat. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, waiting. Jungkook raises the flask and takes a sip.  Yoongi has a motorbike and for some reason that makes Jungkook’s alcohol addled heart go thump thump so loudly he is worried Yoongi will hear it when he sits behind him, arms tentatively on his shoulders. Yoongi chuckles, reaching back and grabbing his arms and pulling them around his waist, Jungkook squeaking softly.“You’ll fall off,” Yoongi mumbles, though Jungkook sees the slight colour to his cheeks as he reaches for his helmet. He pauses, before offering it back to Jungkook. “Put this on.”“But you don’t have another,” Jungkook says. Yoongi shrugs, turning to fit it carefully over his head and clasping it tight, Jungkook’s face burning anywhere skin accidentally touches skin.“I’ll be fine,” he whispers, checking the clasp one last time before he turns back to the front, one hand going down to grasp both of Jungkook’s firmly in place as he kicks the bike into action.Jungkook gives mindless directions, a left turn here, a right one there, Yoongi obediently following though neither of them know where they are going. The roads in Seoul are sleepy, Jungkook’s head woozy as he rests it against Yoongi’s back, the lightest kiss of rain as they drive. They stop when it starts to pick up, a small corner side diner called ‘Kim’s All Night Sandwich Shop’, the two ducking in just as it begins to rain in earnest.There’s a few lonely students, a couple who have nothing to say to one another, a group of friends fatigued at the back. Yoongi and Jungkook are out of place in their shirts and jackets, giggling as they try to shush one another to a back table. Yoongi pulls out his reading glasses to look at the menu and Jungkook is so disgustingly endeared he has to fake a coughing fit just to cover his the stupid grin on his face.They order three plates of sandwiches and two deserts, a caramel explosion and a tangerine mousse which Yoongi gallantly offers Jungkook when he notices him staring at it. They order three more mousses after that, the diner slowly emptying till it is just Jungkook and Yoongi scraping the bottoms of their plates and wistfully watching the rain.It hits him slowly, that drop from giddy happiness to a fragile low, the contentment seeping from his fingers like water through cupped palms and the food in his mouth is ashy before he realizes it. He is crying again before he realizes it.There are fingers, gentle, lifting his chin, concerned eyes meeting his. “What’s wrong?” Yoongi whispers and Jungkook shakes his head, unsure. Then he hears it, the music playing like a memory at the back of the diner, low and quiet. It is some stupid English song, one Jungkook doesn’t even understand the words to but he’s heard it before, a different boy seated across from him when he last did.“I just-just,” Jungkook wipes at his eyes, trying to calm himself, “really like this song.”“Okay,” Yoongi says quietly, shifting closer. “Shouldn’t that make you happy?”“It’s just-uh it’s so stupid, Hyunjin said he’d dance with me to it one day and now,” the words lay heavy on his tongue, grieving and mean. “N-now we won’t have a one day.”Yoongi sighs, reaching for a napkin and handing it to Jungkook, not meeting his gaze a little shy. “And one day you’ll be happier about that. He’s a dick.”“You don’t know that,” Jungkook sniffs. “You don’t know him.”“He made you cry,” Yoongi’s voice is soft, “so he’s a dick.”Jungkook huffs, shaking his head as he sits up straighter. “I-I’ll go ask them to change the song.”“No wait,” Yoongi holds Jungkook’s wrist, stopping him before he gets up. “You like this song, right? You don’t have to lose it just cause some jerk made you false promises. Here, come here.” He get’s up pulling Jungkook with him to the corner of the quiet diner, out of sight of the counter and the two servers still lounging around. “Dance with me.”Jungkook looks at him, somehow certain he has misheard as he shuffles closer. “I’m sorry?”“Dance.” Yoongi grins, sheepish as he intertwines his fingers with Jungkook’s, “with me.”Jungkook laughs breathlessly, inhaling a little sharply when he feels Yoongi’s hand, tentative and gentle, at his waist. He places his hand carefully on Yoongi’s shoulder, a little awkward given how much taller he is, but there is something steady about Yoongi. Something safe.“Is this weird for you?” Jungkook asks, so close yet somehow unable to look directly at him, his heart beating a little too hard for comfort.“It’s prom, right?” Yoongi mutters, cheeks aglow in the dim light. “No better day to get drunk and dance with pretty boys you only just met.”Maybe Jungkook is drunker than he thought because time seems to blur around him, songs slipping clumsily into one another, his arms linking around Yoongi’s neck at some point, close enough he can smell the woodsy pine scent of his aftershave. Yoongi holds him carefully, the respectful non-wandering hands a chaperone would approve of but they are firm, unwavering.Jungkook stirs from his stupor when he realizes the first song is playing again, the beat thrumming through his veins, buzzing across his skin. They are still swaying gently, almost sleepy, the rain outside now a light drizzle, the clock on the wall reading 3:27am.“It’s late,” Jungkook says, his mouth dry from lack of use, words heavy.Yoongi blinks, following Jungkook’s gaze to the clock, a surprised huff escaping him. “I didn’t realize.”“Me neither,” Jungkook admits, small smile as they come to a stop. “They probably hate us,” he motions with his head in the direction of the counter.“They’ve actually been in that back room for far too long now,” Yoongi frowns suspiciously, shaking his head before his looks back at Jungkook. “Can I drive you home?”“Yea, sure,” Jungkook nods, though neither of them move. He realizes he still has his arms around Yoongi’s neck, can still feel his hands on his waist, still he doesn’t move. “I had a really nice time, tonight. With you.”“I did too,” Yoongi says, and he is finally meeting Jungkook’s gaze again, something soft in the way he looks at him.“I don’t usually, um, do-I mean I-,” Jungkook takes a deep breath, centering himself. “I don’t usually –““I don’t either,” Yoongi says, his eyes crinkling into a smile again.“Okay, great.” Jungkook shuffles slightly, “yeah.”“But I wanted to with you.” Yoongi says, carefully looking at his shoes, the toe, the heel. “I’d like to again if you would.”“Yeah,” Jungkook says, breath a little hitched. “Yeah I would –”“So are you two like ever gonna leave or should we clear the counters for you to have steamy counter-top sex?” The sleepy looking server, Taehyung if his nametag is correct, is watching them boredly. “We don’t mind either as long as you let us stick around to watch.”“Oh my God Taehyungie we’re not going to watch!” The other server, Jimin, swats at him irritated. “We’ll totally go to the back room and play video games and act like we can’t hear you.”“That’s uh, that’s okay.” Jungkook clears his throat when he hears how high his voice comes out. “We weren’t going to.”“Leave?” Jimin asks.“Have sex.” Yoongi says patiently.“Oh,” he frowns, glancing at Taehyung dejectedly, “that’s disappointing.”“Sorry,” Jungkook says, skittish at the sudden implication, finally releasing Yoongi to cover his ears.“Okay but you need to leave then,” Taehyung sighs, turning back to the counter. “Or like order something or something.”“We’re going we’re going,” Yoongi pulls out his wallet leaving the money and a very large tip, taking Jungkook’s hand and pulling him along. “Thanks for the service guys.”Outside they don’t speak, both too nervous, at least Jungkook thinks Yoongi is nervous, his breathing a little heavy though he smiles warmly still. Jungkook sits behind him again, breaking the silence to give little directions, the roads looping and turning till they lead them to Jungkook’s home. Yoongi gets off his motorbike to walk Jungkook to his front door. Jungkook bites his lip, unsure what to say, scared if he doesn’t say enough Yoongi may not come back. And he wants Yoongi to come back. He really, really does.“Goodnight.”“Goodnight.”Yoongi hesitates for a moment but then he nods, stiff, turning to head away from the house and maybe it hurts a bit watching him walk away. Maybe it hurts too much.“Wait!” Yoongi turns, Jungkook stumbling into him as he hastily tries to grab his arm. “I, um – thank you.”Yoongi’s startled gaze softens, the corners of his mouth turning up again. “Why are you thanking me?”“Because you,” Jungkook struggles, suddenly overwhelmed, suddenly adrift, “you just-“ he reaches forward, unsteady as he presses his lips to the side of Yoongi’s face. “Thanks.”And then he turns, heart beating irregular, and disappears through his front door before Yoongi can react. Outside the motorbike stays still, Jungkook counts till ten, till twenty and then to a hundred but it remains there stationary. In his pocket his phone buzzes, a dm request from user @yoongi_min. It is a link, a headphone emoji made next to it.“I found our song. Goodnight.”The bike outside kicks into life and Jungkook presses play as it whirs down the road, no longer worried it won’t return.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

For all the other stereotypes of a university heartthrob that he fits, Jungkook doesn’t actually hate Mondays.He actually quite likes Mondays. He has a good timetable, the cafeteria hasn’t yet run out of its stock of banana milk and he tends to get asked out at least a few times before lunch by those who’ve temporarily forgotten how intimidating he actually is. All in all it’s a good day, usually.Except today when he grabs his tray and turns to follow a blabbing Jimin to the back of the cafeteria he feels his heart seize in his chest. His breath catches in his throat and pure, blind panic fills his mind.“What,” he hisses so suddenly that Jimin almost throws his tray in surprise, “does Taehyung think he’s doing?”Jimin turns to follow his gaze where a very oblivious Kim Taehyung is happily making himself at home at the table currently occupied by student body president Kim Namjoon, drama society head Kim Seokjin and dance captain Jung Hoseok. Which is okay seeing as they all have been friends for a few years now except there happens to be a fifth person at the table.And Jungkook is just not in the mood today.“Behave,” Jimin says warningly, a pointed glare and he is strutting his way over to the table and settling down next to Hoseok, not even sparing a glance behind.  Jungkook stands rooted to the spot unsure what to do, wondering briefly if he should just ditch his best friends and go sit with the rest of the guys from his soccer team. But then Min Yoongi, fifth person in question, basketball captain and overall douchebag, lifts his head and grins at Jungkook, almost teasing.Jungkook swears under his breath before he storms over, slamming down his tray with unnecessary force as he seats himself next to Namjoon, muttering a low greeting in reply to the broken ones offered to him.“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon offers him a dazzling smile as he squeezes his shoulders gently, “how was the competition last Friday?”“Yeah how was the competition Jungkook-ah?” Jungkook pauses just as he was about to start answering, pursing his lips as he turns to face Yoongi. Yoongi smirks at him, lent too far back in his chair, a half peeled tangerine in one hand. “Cheerleading right?”“You’re so funny Min, has anyone ever told you that? Almost like you’re compensating for something.” Jungkook smiles, sickeningly sweet, locking his ankles around Jimin’s leg when he tries to kick him under the table.Yoongi clicks his tongue dismissively. “Come let’s not project shall we? Did you know statistically speaking pretty girls are far more likely to get large breed dogs than men?”Jungkook scoffs tossing his hair. “Are you calling me pretty Min?” “And what if I am?” Yoongi slips a slice of tangerine into his mouth, smirking slightly when Jungkook huffs in annoyance.Jungkook used to tell himself it was nothing personal, the soccer team and the basketball team have had a rivalry spanning decades. Even now people are looking at them weirdly for just sitting at the same table. But Yoongi, Yoongi has made sure things are too personal between them.For a few moments no one says anything, an almost deafening silence in the din of the cafeteria. Jungkook sits, too on edge to eat, his gaze decidedly not meeting Yoongi’s wandering eyes."So," Jimin says after a whole five minutes. "What are you guys going as for Hobi hyung's halloween party tonight?"The question is general enough, Jungkook easing back to his plate as Hoseok starts excitedly telling them about all his different options ranging from Glinda the Good witch to Princess Jasmine."Yogi bear," Seokjin says without a seconds hesitation. "Are you guys doing a weird group costume again?""Yup." Jimin nods enthusiastically. "We're doing the Gotham City sirens. I'll be Selena, obviously. Tae will be Ivy and Kookie's gonna be Harley.""Oh come on Jimin-ah, isn't that a little unfair?" Jungkook freezes when he sees the mock concern on Min Yoongi's stupid face, the cool metal of the spoon resting against his lips. "How is Jeon supposed to fit those Grecian pillar sized thighs into spandex and mini shorts? He'll die."Jungkook puts his spoon down, his reaction disproportionate to the provocation. "Do we have a problem, Min?""Us?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "No, no. I’m just worried about those twenty something boyfriends of yours getting crushed to death by your legs.""Ha ha," Jungkook says dryly. "At least I'm not a brick on two toothpicks you dorito looking-ass piece of-""Ok, ok," Namjoon says raising his hands. "Enough."“You always say enough to me but never to him,” Jungkook whines, settling back into his chair and glaring holes into Min Yoongi’s unbothered face.“It’s because you’re more mature.” Namjoon taps his nose gently.“It’s because he can see your googly eyes every time he talks to you and knows you’re gonna listen to him,” Yoongi  says flatly.Jungkook takes a deep breath counting the hours in the day, the minutes in the hours, the seconds until he doesn’t have to see Yoongi anymore. “I hate you,” he says calmly.“Sure doll,” Yoongi winks at him exaggeratedly. “Of course you do.”  Jungkook almost manages to forget about Yoongi by the end of the day. Classes have wrapped up and the sky is a pretty blush pink just this side of red, a cool breeze stirring as he leaves the soccer field. His team didn’t have practice today but Jungkook was not about to start the week without sweating a good few hours on the freshly mowed grass, even if he had to do it alone.He’s in a good mood by then, singing softly under his breath as he skips up the stairs to the locker room, the empty stalls and dry floors greeting him affectionately. Jungkook stashes his clothes on the bench, not bothered about filing them away properly, opening his little ponytail and grabbing his toiletry bag. For a second he pauses in front of the mirror, lifting his towel just a fraction to look at his thighs.Yoongi’s an ass they aren’t that big. And even if they were that would just make him sexier, right? Still he may opt for those black leather pants instead of mini shorts which he was absolutely going to do even before talking to Yoongi. Pushing any stupid thoughts out of his head Jungkook heads for the best shower stall right at the back, the last remnants of sunlight dappled through the grated shutter.He turns the water on, hot and just this side of scorching and steps beneath it, letting out a sigh of pure bliss. This is probably what heaven feels like.Jungkook is so lost in the smell of his banana conditioner and the soft music playing from his speaker he doesn’t hear the loud ruckus of the basketball team coming in after practice. He also doesn’t hear the boisterous laughter as they grow nearer and nearer and he definitely doesn’t hear Min Yoongi’s annoying gravelly voice talking to a teammate that stall’s mine you know that and walking right up to his door.He does however hear the slightly throaty shout that rings behind him, pre-emptively shrieking as he whirls around to see a very wide eyed and very naked Min Yoongi staring at him.“YOU!” Jungkook gasps, eyes narrowing to slits of hostility.Yoongi chuckles in disbelief shaking his head. “I can’t fucking believe this.”The two of them stare at one another, equal parts rage and bewilderment and okay Yoongi was definitely not compensating not that Jungkook is looking, he isn’t. He just notices.“Can you shut the door you pervert?” Jungkook barks, Yoongi’s cheeks instantly colouring as he slams the door shut.“Jeon,” Yoongi’s voice sounds a little strained through the flimsy plastic lamination of the door. “This is my shower stall.”“Min I swear to God fuck off and let me bathe in peace.”“But this is my stall.” Yoongi sounds somewhat soft, somewhat more restrained. Jungkook can feel his cheeks blushed, his own are too.“Do I look like I care?” He asks evenly, working out the banana conditioner from his hair. On his speaker a Frou Frou song still hums quietly.Yoongi is clearly smiling when he speaks next, almost laughing. “I don’t know I can’t see you anymore can I?’Jungkook huffs, giving himself a last proper scrub and turning off the shower, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist. He turns off his speaker dropping it into his bag and opening the stall door.Yoongi is right on the other side, cheeks still a bruising red but a bored expression on his face. Thankfully he too has worn a towel by now, one arm lent against the stall door.“Move or I will punt you,” Jungkook says, too close to Yoongi, so close he can count his eyelashes.Yoongi sighs long suffering, raising his arm dramatically and stepping away to let Jungkook pass by. Jungkook scoffs, just as long suffering and moves past, heading for the bench with his things.“Hey Jeon.”Jungkook turns to see Yoongi still standing there looking at him, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.“What?”“Nice tramp stamp.”Jungkook smirks, letting his hand fall to graze the tattoo on his lower back. “Isn’t it?”   Somehow, inexplicably, Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung are once again the tipsiest and the loudest at the party. They had only reached about twenty minutes ago but Jimin made them furiously take about twelve shots each as soon as they arrived. So Jungkook is more than dulled enough to be giggling at nothing, hugging his baseball bat and watching the fairylights reflected in Taehyung’s eyes as he tearfully accuses a very fatigued looking Jimin of not loving him enough.“Okay okay, let’s just,” Jimin sighs, wrapping an arm around Taehyung and pulling him close. “I love you lots now can we focus this energy on more important things?”“Like?” Taehyung sniffs.“Let’s play truth or dare,” Jimin declares grandly as though it is the most unique idea in the world, Jungkook and Taehyung clapping dutifully at the brilliance of it.“Ooh I’ll go first.” Jungkook adjusts the mask sitting over his face, the black leather of his outfit sticking to his skin a little more than was comfortable. “Dare me.”“Hmmm,” Taehyung scans the room focused, his eyes brightening when he finds a target. “You see that Victorian vampire looking ass jerk in the Venetian mask smoking a cigar?” Jungkook follows his gaze, a weird kick up of butterflies in his stomach at said Victorian vampire. “Steal the cigar from him.”“He’s hot,” Jungkook whispers mindlessly, his brain a little too foggy to censor his tongue.“Well get it from him,” Taehyung urges.“But he’s smoking it,” Jungkook says blankly.“Yeah well what kind of a pretentious douchebag smokes a cigar?” Jimin hisses, curling around Jungkook’s back and giving him a sharp prod. “Go.”Jungkook stumbles forward, finding his footing quickly as he tries not to make a very obvious beeline for the figure. The Victorian vampire is surrounded by people Jungkook doesn’t bother recognizing, though he seems somewhat disconnected. His gaze flickers over the crowd as he nods off and on to whatever his companions are saying. For a moment he looks almost holy shrouded in smoke and mystery, a glass of scotch nursed in one hand, for a moment Jungkook forgets where he is.“You’re looking great,” Hoseok coos affectionately into his ear, one arm wrapping around Jungkook’s waist as he pulls him back against him.“Hyung!” Jungkook turns, wrapping both arms around Hoseok, lifting him slightly off the ground. “Your Kermit is so accurate.”“Thank you thank you,” Hoseok winks at him from behind his green frog head. “You having a good time my baby.”“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, twirling his bat absentmindedly and almost knocking a passing Namjoon on the head. “I am.”“Great, I’ll find you later okay?” Hoseok pinches his cheek affectionately before turning and disappearing into the crowd.Jungkook smiles to himself, all warm and affectionate, turning to find his target again. Except this time he’s staring right back at him.Jungkook moves slightly possessed, being swept up to dance with random strangers now and again though his gaze never breaks from his Victorian vampire, the other watching him intensely as he drinks from his glass. Jungkook dances and dances until he is across the room, changing hands almost half a dozen times, letting go of Jieun’s hand for a foreign, stronger grasp that sits heavy around his hips. He is so close now, dancing in body with the figure holding him but in spirit with the slight smile on his vampire’s lips, so close there is smoke filling his lungs now though his mind is clearer than it was before. Out of the drunken seas of haze a lone silhouette in startling clarity.Jungkook discards his partner without second thought, confused and probably a little weary, and he walks right up to the vampire, his companions stuttering to an awkward halt when he approaches. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, he reaches out a gloved hand, plucks the cigar from right between the vampire’s lips and places it carefully between his own teeth. He takes a long drag, letting the smoke escape his lips in long, snow white tendrils, the other’s eyes on him heavy and intrigued. Something intimate about the gaze, something familiar.Jungkook takes a few steps back, another drag, two fingers to motion to the vampire to follow. There’s a chorus of cheers as the vampire shrugs out of his jacket, handing it to his nearest lackey before following Jungkook. Jungkook pushes through the crowd, heading up the stairs forgetting all about Jimin and Taehyung who’ve in all fairness probably forgotten about him by now too. Right now there is only one thing on his mind, only one person on his mind.He slips into Hoseok’s guest bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind him as he perches himself on the sun seat by the window, dropping his bat beside him. The city lights are hazy in the late night fog, frosted flecks of paint against a midnight blue canvas. Behind him the door clicks shut, a lock sliding into place. There are footsteps, a gentle hand beneath his chin, his face tilted up.The vampire looks at him, eyes slightly soft behind his mask, slightly wanting. Jungkook takes a long drag stubbing the cigar out, holds the smoke between his teeth till a pair of rough lips snatch it right from his mouth. Jungkook parts his lips, letting the smoke wrap around the other’s tongue, letting it seduce him to haze-filled thoughts and touches.The kiss deepens, his head tilted back further till he finds it just a little hard to breathe. Jungkook whines softly, two arms wrapping around him strong and capable, pulling him up, stumbling back still connected till they reach the bed. It is gentle, the hand on his thigh, the other cupping his face, possessive but gentle still.“Yoongi,” Jungkook breathes, too hot around the collar, breaking away for air as those same rough lips find his neck instead.A soft sigh, a softer click of the tongue. “Now why would you break character like that?”Jungkook rolls his eyes, still exasperated despite how badly he needs right now. Exaggeratedly he sweeps a hand up, knocking Yoongi’s mask off, seeing the dark heavy brows beneath, the adoring scrunch of his nose. “Oh no,” Jungkook says emotionlessly. “Basketball captain Min Yoongi? Get your hands off me you rogue.”“Who on earth says rogue?” Yoongi asks, reaching out carefully and loosening Jungkook’s mask, setting it aside carefully.“Unhand me,” Jungkook says swatting at him, Yoongi laughing openly now, catching his flailing hands. "You will never bring such dishonour upon the soccer team by making me yours. Release me.”“But you’re already mine,” Yoongi says softly, leaning forward to nip gently at Jungkook’s lips. “At least that’s what you said last night.” Jungkook doesn’t know when his back hits the mattress, his brain all woozy with things other than alcohol by now, Yoongi leaning down over him, one hand carefully tracing his features. “Did you not mean it?” He bridges the short distance, mouth brushing painfully light over Jungkook’s.“Yes,” Jungkook murmurs, keening upwards for a kiss but Yoongi moves away, eyes glinting mischievously in the lowlight of the room.“Yes what?” His voice is low, almost teasing.“Yes I’m yours,” Jungkook whispers, unwinding when Yoongi kisses him proper this time, hard and deep and long. He curls his fingers in Yoongi’s thick hair, wraps a leg around his waist and pulls him closer still.“By the way.” Yoongi nips his way down his neck, tugs at the plastic zipper along his side till it starts to give. “This is the worst Harley Quinn costume I have ever seen.”“What do you mean,” Jungkook huffs, breath catching when Yoongi’s teeth snag against his earlobe. “I have the whole bat and everything.”“Disappointing,” Yoongi says, grinning as Jungkook pushes at him irritated.“What are you anyway, some sort of Victorian vampire?” Jungkook scoffs, using his one strong bent leg to flip them completely over, Yoongi looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.“That’s exactly what I am,” he says, a small crease between his eyebrows.“Oh,” Jungkook says, tossing his hair back now even more irritated, gloved fingers loosening Yoongi’s top button. “Well, you don’t look like one.”“Really?” Yoongi grins, “then how did you know what I was?”“You’re so cocky,” Jungkook groans, Yoongi laughing too loud once again.“Shut up.”“Make me.”“You’d love that wouldn’t you?”“I shouldn’t,“ Jungkook says, sniffing exaggeratedly. “You were mean about my thighs today.”He feels one large, firm hand wrapping around his thigh, hitching it up further. “I was being affectionate.”“Yeah right.” Jungkook bends down, resting his forehead lightly against Yoongi’s. “You were bullying me.”“Maybe I like seeing you get all worked up,” Yoongi tucks a stray strand of Jungkook’s hair back. “Maybe I like –“Jungkook slaps a hand over his mouth as they hear voices outside. Familiar voices.“Have you seen Yoongi?” Seokjin’s drunk voice tends to be a lot louder than his sober one.“No, have you seen Jungkook?” Jimin sounds just a touch worried. Jungkook has the decency to sound guilty.“Ah they’re probably off somewhere groping each other while making marriage vows.” Seokjin calls, no care for who may be listening.Jungkook’s mouth falls open in horror, Yoongi beginning to laugh against his hand.“What are you talking about?” Jimin gasps, though it is decidedly fake, decidedly performative. “Those two are mortal enemies!”“Yeah,” Seokjin leans heavy against the door. “I have no idea where they are right now but I’m sure they’re not all wrapped up in one another trying to sneak around as quietly as possible, definitely not behind this door nope.”“Definitely not,” Jimin agrees, Jungkook swearing softly under his breath. “I mean can you imagine the absolute horror that would be.”“Nope,” Seokjin says, “can’t even begin to think about it.”“Me neither.”Yoongi kisses Jungkook’s palm, eyes sparkling as he moves it away and reaches up, pulling Jungkook down into a long, sweet kiss. And Jungkook let’s himself fall, laughing now too, uncaring for who may be listening.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The metal at the end of Yoongi’s gun is beginning to rust. 
 
He’s trying,

really

trying to focus, but it distracts him, the slight peeling away of pristine silver in favour for a garish red, open like a fresh wound. He wipes it discreetly with his sleeve, gaze flickering upwards to the man on his knees in front of him sobbing and begging in a voice so high he can no longer understand what he is saying. Besides him Namjoon says something, his voice low and perhaps dangerous to those who don’t know him but to Yoongi he just sounds like an overheated labrador retriever having walked too many hours out in the sun.
 
“Boss?”
 
Come to think of it, Namjoon had several qualities in common with a much-walked labrador. He too got sun-drunk and struggled to walk a straight line if given too many orders. He had an overall geniality that really went against the line of work he had chosen, Yoongi noticing on more than one occasion a prisoner of theirs lighting up with happiness when Namjoon entered the room. And, most importantly, when he was sitting Yoongi sometimes

did

mistake him for the gang’s resident labrador, Chonk.
 
“Boss?”
 
Which is embarrassing in more than one way. Criminal gang’s are not supposed to have one let alone two hairy, well-meaning, handsome fluff-balls strutting around their premises trying to be intimidating. But Namjoon is his right-hand man and well Chonk - Chonk was brought here by Jungkook.
 
Ah.
 
Jungkook.
 
Yoongi feels that familiar rush of warmth rush through his body, the emotion washing over him like a wave. He can feel the smile already tugging at his lips, his mind blanking with overwhelming levels of affection. He can see him so clearly in his mind, his soft mahogany curls, large babydoll eyes. The way his nose scrunches with happiness every time he sees Yoongi, those little dancey steps he takes to run over to him. Oh if only Yoongi were home right now, he’d gather him up into his arms, bury his face against his neck, run his fingers up beneath his overlarge sweatshirt and -
 
“Boss!”
 
“What?” 
 
It takes him a moment to realize he has barked out the word a little too intensely, upset to be awakened from his little daydream. They’re all staring at him, underlings and captives alike, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.
 
“Do you think you’re doing,” he adds, dropping down into a low crouch, lip sneering menacingly. Perhaps it is somewhat smug to say that himself but he has seen enough grown men turn to puddles of whimpering goo at the expression to know it is valid. 
 
“I-I, I you see, I-sir-” the man stutters, his body seizing back into itself at the proximity, “I d-didn’t m-mean to-”
 
“Oh, you didn’t mean to! I see, that changes everything,” Yoongi’s face contorts into mock sympathy, a comforting look of concern crossing his face. “I didn’t realize you could steal from a sealed warehouse without meaning to, so silly of me.”
 
The brief light of relief that had entered the blubbering man’s eyes just as quickly fades, his face scrunching till his features disappear into thin lines as he starts to all out sob. Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, gun spinning deftly in one hand. “Shut up.”
 
The man (for the life of him, Yoongi can not remember his name) seems to take this as absolute confirmation he is about to meet a close and untimely death. Though in Yoongi’s opinion, perhaps it is overdue. He throws himself directly at Yoongi’s feet, cries growing louder and more incoherent as he sobs. “P-please sir I would never cross you on purpose, surely you-you-”
 
“So was it a mistake then?” Yoongi’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, his gait threatening as he leans forward, “that you leaked the exact location of two of my warehouses? Was that a mistake?”
 
“S-sir-”
 
“Was it a mistake that you informed the

Baek-ho

, our greatest rivals, of the exact time the new shipment would be coming in?”
 
“Please Agust-”
 
“Don’t you dare say my name,” Yoongi snarls, a white hot rage he hadn’t felt till now suddenly leaping up his insides. “There are many things I take mercy on, but betrayal? You think you can turn your back on me and expect even a moment worth of kindness?” He lets out a breath of humourless laughter, pushing his ash blonde hair out of his face, the gun in his hand now gripped too tight. “I’m going to make every moment you have left on this miserable planet Absolute. Fucking. Hell-”

“You can be my bad boy be my bad boy be my bad boy you can be my-”

“Hoseok!” Yoongi snaps, whipping around, “switch off your phone!”
 
Hoseok stares back at him, his eyes almost comically round as the song continues to blare, undeterred by the tension in the room though its thick enough to suffocate a medium to large build moose. 
 
“That’s not mine, Boss,” Hoseok says, unblinking. “It’s yours.”

“What?” Yoongi curses, adjusting as he tries to pry the screeching object out of his trouser pocket. “Who changed my fucking ringtone and who the fuck is stupid enough to be calling me right now-”
 
“Hyung!” The voice on the other end trills so deafeningly loud the man still whimpering at Yoongi’s feet physically flinches backward. “Classes ended early so I thought I’d stop by the store to pick up things for dinner but then I thought maybe you want something specific and I got bored because you aren’t here so I just called so you could hear the new ringtone I set for you are you free right now?”
 
Yoongi blinks a moment, the man still seated in front of him staring at him with large, owlish eyes, the fear in them palpable as though he thinks Yoongi is about to blow up any second. On the other end of the line is a gentle but regular huff puff of a Jungkook clearly laden with a shopping basket far too heavy. He always refuses to take a cart claiming someone behind him may need it more, no matter how many there are lining the air-conditioned aisles. Yoongi raises a single finger to his lips, eyes wide with warning, the threat in them never more real than right now.
 
“Hyung?” Jungkook sniffs on the other end. “Are you there?”
 
“Of course baby, I’m sorry hyung is still at work or I’d come over right now to pick you up,” Yoongi coos, his voice almost unrecognisable from what it had been just seconds ago. 
 
“Ah don’t worry about that hyung, Hobi hyung had mentioned you guys had lots of paperwork due to those new clients of yours.” Yoongi looks down at the still snivelling human mooching around on the ground in front of him, unsure how to answer. Jungkook was not too well aware of his more, shall we say, nefarious, dealings? Yoongi wasn’t entirely sure what it was Jungkook thought he did for a living but everytime he spoke about it he made it sound respectable, as though Yoongi was CEO of a miniature horse breeding company or something, he hadn’t given it too much thought. He cleared his throat, shifting on his haunches. 
 
“I’m handling it,” he says simply. “What is my little prince buying for dinner?”
 
“I was thinking,” he can hear Jungkook struggling as though lifting something unusually heavy. “I’ll cook you a steak.”
 
“Sweetheart,” Yoongi hums, his heart unbearably warm all over again as he tries his best to bite back the smile that fights its way onto his face. “Hyung doesn’t deserve his baby boy.”
 
‘Hyung shush!” Jungkook chuckles on the other end though Yoongi can hear his words blushed pink with glee. “Would you like anything to go with it? Wine?” a long pause before he speaks so softly he is barely audible. “Milk?”
 
Yoongi runs a hand over his face, teeth digging painfully into his bottom lip and it's all he can manage not to squeal and kick his heels out like a schoolboy with a crush. He takes a deep breath recentering himself before answering, his voice a play at casual. 
 
“I’m actually really craving some banana milk,” he distinctly hears a happy little gasp on the other end. “Would that be okay?”
 
“That’s okay perfect that’s great I mean if you want you know personally I would have preferred the wine but I would rather not just buy a whole bottle for myself so I’ll get some banana milk cause you want it you know cause I want you to be happy-”
 
“Right,” Yoongi says.
 
“-and then I’ll head home and start getting things ready uh hmm,” he hums happily to himself.
 
“Jungkookie,” Yoongi mumbles softly, “I’m sorry again I can’t pick you up myself.”
 
“No hyung! I told you not to worry!” Jungkook has that pout to his voice he gets whenever he scolds Yoongi, his words rounding at the edges becoming thicker in their satoori. 
 
“Are Taehyungie or Jiminie at least with you?” Yoongi toes the whimpering mass trying to make a grab for his feet away from him.
 
“No hyung Taehyung has trumpet practice and I told you I’m not talking to Jiminie hyung till he admits he stole Boba.”
 
“I still don’t think he stole your dinosaur plush but okay love,” Yoongi whispers. “I wish you’d just take the car I bought to campus with you.”
 
“No, I told you it’s too fancy, people will try to steal it! Jaemin from my class already offered to drive me back so I won’t have to take the bus anyway-”
 
“What,” Yoongi interrupts, perhaps a bit too loud. He straightens up so suddenly the man he had long forgotten about screeches before wrapping his arms around his head and going into foetal position. 
 
“I said Jaemin is driving me back,” Jungkook says slowly. “You remember Jaemin? Tall, red hair, in my film studies class?”
 
“Yeah I remember that he’s tall, haha,” Yoongi says, his voice so fake Namjoon looks at him questioningly. “And that he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you during that Christmas event at your university.”
 
“Hyung, you’re so silly,” Jungkook huffs, clearly exasperated. “He’s just a friend, not everyone on the planet likes me you know? It’s actually only you.”
 
“Sure, sure,” Yoongi replies, his tone still falsely cheerful as he turns to Namjoon and Hoseok, spreading his arm out in disbelief. Hoseok raises his hands, eyes warning as he signals for Yoongi to calm down. “I’m sure it’s perfectly platonic to ask someone out no less than fifteen times, make a move on them every chance you can and sneak right in the second you know they’re gonna be all alone.”
 
“Yoongi hyung,” Jungkook says patiently. “Don’t be crazy, okay? He’s just a friend, he knows I have a boyfriend I’m obsessed with. I talk about you like literally all the time and he really liked you when he met you so please just stop being so,” he struggles, fumbling for the right word, “so worried, okay? I love you, I'll see you later.”
 
“Love you,” Yoongi says blankly, listening as the line goes dead, even the dial tone seeming to mock him in his misery.
 
“Trouble in paradise?” Hoseok asks, his brows knit in concern though he definitely looks a little apprehensive. 
 
“Jaemin that stupid son of a bitch,” Yoongi curses softly, running a hand through his hair before reaching in his pocket for a cigarette. “I turn my back for one - will you stop crying” he snaps at the body lying curled up on the floor, “second and there he is.” Yoongi places the lit cigarette between his lips, chuckling humourlessly at the situation. “Snivelling his way right in.”
 
“Tsk tsk,” Hoseok says warningly. “You sound awful jealous.”
 
“I,” Yoongi scoffs, “am not jealous. I’m just protective. I happen to have the most beautiful boyfriend in the entire world, he needs to be looked after.”
 
“Maybe he really is harmless, I mean Jungkookie trusts him,” Namjoon is watching him a little too closely for his liking.
 
“Jungkookie trusts everyone,” Yoongi deadpans. “Heck, he let me buy him dinner the day he met me and let’s just say I’m not the greatest guy on the planet.” Yoongi sighs, letting the smoke fill his lungs, letting it cloud his brain till he knows exactly what he has to do, the clarity striking him through the haze. He whirls around to look at his still whining victim, a soft laugh escaping him. “Well well, seems it's your lucky day. Boys just,” he gestures dismissively, “do something with this fool. I need to head home.”
 
He grabs his jacket, stepping over the quivering body towards the door. “Has anyone seen Chonk?”

……

It's nearly 6 o’clock by the time the oven timer goes off. Chonk is already sitting dutifully before the oven, the scent of freshly baked pie wafting down to him from the counter. Yoongi is just finishing off the whiskey sauce to go with the large slabs of pork he’s grilled when he hears the key turning in the lock. There are voices, two of them, Jungkook’s laughter clear as day over a deeper, rumbling one. Yoongi looks at Chonk, taking a long deep breath to try and control his already rapidly rising blood pressure.
 
“-no I’m serious you really didn’t have to walk me all the way to my apartment, I’ve already taken up so much of your time.” Yoongi recognizes it immediately, that slight giggly edge Jungkook gets to his voice when he isn’t entirely certain how he’s gotten himself into a situation and even less certain how to get out of it.
 
“Are you kidding?” Chonk shoots Yoongi a warning look as Jaemin’s voice rings in the hallway.

Don’t explode Daddy,

the look says,

be the bigger man.

“I barely get to spend any real time with you, it’s so hard to catch you alone what with that terrifying boyfriend of yours always lurking.”
 “Oh my god Yoongi hyung is not terrifying.” Yoongi let’s Jungkook’s voice wash over him, let’s it ease the tension in his shoulders as he nods at Chonk. Fine I’ll be the bigger man, his eyes say as Chonk huffs approvingly, and I’m not your Daddy so quit saying that. “He’s like the sweetest person in the entire universe. He’s kind and generous and intelligent and so handsome, you should get to know him better. One time when I wasn’t feeling that great, he came all the way from-” 
“It’s not just me I mean,” Jaemin lets out a snort of derision that has Yoongi almost reaching for the steak knife.

Daddy I told you to calm down

, Chonk glowers, his soft fluffy face contorted with disappointment. “All the guys in our class are scared of getting to know you.”
 
“No!” Jungkook exclaims, the sound of his shoes being kicked off his little socked feet before he begins to patter into the living area.

You call me Daddy one more time,

Yoongi starts to answer when - 
 
“Really, everyone thinks he’s like some insanely possessive freak, I even heard a rumour he’s in a cult, like a fanatical one.” Jaemin follows close behind Jungkook. “Honestly, I have no idea how a guy like him landed someone as kind and popular and pretty as you-”
 
“Hey.” Yoongi emerges from the kitchenette, leaning against the nearest pillar as he cleans his steak knife on his apron. “Welcome home baby doll.”
 
Jungkook lets out a gasp that is almost disney princess worthy as he all but dumps the groceries he is still holding into Jaemin’s unprepared grasp. 
 
“Hyung!” he shrieks like he didn’t see Yoongi all of ten hours ago and it's all Yoongi can do to hurriedly toss aside the knife as Jungkook launches himself straight at him across the room. 
 
The lips against his are soft and clumsy, the arms wrapping around his neck muscular beneath his fluffy yellow sweater. Yoongi turns, using the wall to help prop Jungkook up as he keeps his legs secured tightly around Yoongi’s waist. He runs a hand through his mahogany curls, kisses the side of his face even as Jungkook jabbers something incoherently into his ear. He can make it out distinctly through the torrent of words though, the same ones repeated over and over

I missed you I missed you I missed you I miss you still -

“Hiya baby,” Yoongi whispers against his jaw, shushing him gently as he rubs soothing circles against his hips.
 
“Hi hyung I thought you were working late today,” the look in his eyes is too soft, aching and mellow as though Yoongi being home early was something gentle, something sacred. As though in no version of reality could he have been luckier than to open the door and find Yoongi waiting on the other side.
 
“Yeah well I thought that could wait,” Yoongi sets him down carefully though he holds him still, arms around his waist as he hums against his neck. “I wanted to be here with you.”
 
“Hyung,” Jungkook says softly, tipping Yoongi’s face up, a kiss so chaste it is barely there at all. “I love you-”
 
A soft huff interrupts the words and Jungkook immediately slips out of Yoongi’s grasp, cooing as he opens his arms to let in an impatient Chonk. Chonk rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed as Jungkook does his best to squish him into a new form, screeching sweet nothings against his little velvety ear and rocking him back and forth in what Yoongi had long ago accepted as a nearly demonic form of affection. 
 
Yoongi smiles, his heart too warm. It is too perfect, the boy he loves somehow even more real by the golden lights of their hallway, their dog wrapped firmly in his muscular arms, Yoongi quiet but waiting to give him all the love he can muster. It is so perfect that Yoongi almost forgets they have an intruder.
 
Jaemin sets the bags down on the counter with a little too much spite, his expression distinctly sour when his eyes meet Yoongi’s. Yoongi smiles, tight and humourless, suddenly missing the familiar weight of his steak knife to end the miserable little cretin once and for all. “Hello Jaebum,” he says instead politely, allowing himself a moment of enjoyment at the way Jaemin’s jaw clenches. “Thank you for keeping Jungkookie company today. I suppose you aren’t aware he’s a bit of a lone wolf, really hates people infringing on his alone time but then again why would you be?” Yoongi unties his apron, hauling it over his head and folding it carefully. “It’s not like you know him or anything.”
 
“Not like there’s much chance to,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, his gaze straying to Jungkook who is now diligently wiping down Chonk’s paws with a damp cloth. Yoongi doesn’t have the heart to tell him he already cleaned them on the way in.
 
“What was that?” Yoongi asks, “you might want to speak up.”
 
“Hyung,” Jungkook says patiently, a small smile on his face as he turns to Yoongi.

Be nice

, his eyes say.

Yeah, be nice Daddy

, Chonk chimes in unasked. Yoongi can barely suppress the laugh that rises to his lips at their identical expressions.
 
But he doesn’t intend to deny Jungkook, he’s never denied him anything to be honest. Not since that very first time he’d set eyes on him at the back of a quiet pho house on a forgotten street. Yoongi there with the intent to lay low, unwilling to be recognized. Jungkook there because the broth was hot but cheap, and film school was already running him dry. 
 
Yoongi had walked right over after finishing his meal, slipping into the seat across from Jungkook and introducing himself. Jungkook had hesitated, his skin flushed from the heat of the food and the sudden attention, barely managing to choke back his surprise when Yoongi had asked him out.

I like lamb skewers,

he had said shyly when Yoongi had gotten up to leave, having already fixed a time to pick him up

. Will hyung take me for some?

So instead of a five star dazzling steal your breath away dining experience, Yoongi had found himself crammed outside a grocery store in the freezing cold of December buying lamb skewers hot off the cart. Jungkook had looked at him then, laughing at something innocuous and Yoongi had known. Yoongi had known that he would never say no to him for anything.
 
So he turns to Jaemin, ready to set aside his own petty attitude and niggling thoughts and just be the gentleman his mother raised him to be when he sees it - Jaemin staring not so discreetly at the small exposed patch of Jungkook’s skin where his shirt has ridden up. 
 
“Get out of our house,” Yoongi says shortly.
 
“Hyung!” Jungkook gasps, his eyes wide when they meet Yoongi’s in disbelief. “I mean- no it’s not like- Jaemin-ah he just means-”
 
“I mean get out,” Yoongi replies, “or do you intend to stay till our dinner has gone completely cold?”
 
Jaemin glowers at him, his fists clenching at his sides and Yoongi would almost find the testosterone-drunk tooth baring comical if he wasn’t so close to snarling himself. “This is Jungkook’s house and he’s fine with me staying.”

“Jungkook is too polite to tell you to leave and you know that,” Yoongi says, his smile wider now, angrier, more wolfish. “Isn’t that precisely why you jumped him when I wasn’t around? ‘Cause he has friends over all the time and I don’t remember you so much as being mentioned even once.”
 
“Jaemin-ah it is getting quite late,” Jungkook shoots him an apologetic smile, his nose scrunching as he stretches, a play at fatigue Yoongi knows isn’t real. “We should start winding down.”
 
Jaemin turns slowly to look at him, his lip curling once before he scoffs. He opens his mouth as though to speak and that’s when Yoongi hears it - a growl, full of threat and rage and something so close to violence that he looks at Chonk, surprised.

It’s not me Daddy,

Chonk’s apathetic gaze tells him,

it’s you.

The door slams and Yoongi groans, relief flooding his body as he leans down to gather Jungkook back into his arms. “Thank the lord I thought he was never going to leave.”
 
“Did you seriously just growl at him?” Jungkook laughs, stumbling up to his feet as Yoongi pulls him up. He whirls around, putting both arms around Yoongi’s neck and squinting at him. “Hyung you’re crazy.”
 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yoongi says, grinning as he pulls Jungkook in for a kiss. “I was so nice and he left anyway. What a rude boy.”
 
“Just as well, though I was hoping he’d stay just a little longer,” Jungkook looks up at him from under his lashes, pouting insolently even as Yoongi raises an eyebrow in question. “Wanted to tell him my hyung may look sugar sweet but he’s a bit of a sinner,” Jungkook’s eyes grow heavier as he leans forward again, brushing his lips feather light against Yoongi’s. “That’s he’s the most feared man this side of the Han River and he doesn’t do too well with people messing with his things.”
 
Yoongi stills, unsure he has heard correctly, unsure whether his understanding from the words spoken to him is the one intended. “You aren’t my thing, Jungkook,” Yoongi says slowly, a dry chuckle to try and diffuse the tension he suddenly feels prickling up his skin. “And I’m not sure who you think would fear me.”
 
Jungkook huffs, unimpressed as he surveys Yoongi apathetically. “Hyung, how many times did you think I was going to buy the whole ‘these clients are just really upset, that’s why they’re screaming like they’re about to be set on fire’ excuse? Or the ‘Jungkookie I’d love to bring you to the office but it’s being renovated’ one?” Jungkook jabs an accusing finger into Yoongi’s bewildered chest. “What kind of office is renovated for more than a year?”
 
“I haven’t ever set anyone on fire,” Yoongi manages, a little numb.
 
“I’m not dumb hyung,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes wide and sparkly despite his claims. “I know you are a mafia drug lord.”
 
Yoongi stares at him, part of his mind desperately urging him to still try and deny and cover up the other slowly beginning to unfurl in relief. Jungkook knows. Jungkook knows and he still hasn’t left him. Jungkook knows and he loves him still. “We’re more of just a gang,” he says quietly.
 
“A criminal gang,” Jungkook replies wisely.
 
“Well,” Yoongi tightens his grasp around Jungkook, tugging him forward, “yes. How long have you known?”
 
“Pretty much since you flew us to Paris for our third date, paid off all my student loans, bought me this house, a new car and offered me a chauffeur and claimed you’d ‘won the lottery’.” Jungkook pats his cheek. “Stop topping up my debit card every single day, I will never need that much money.”
 
“Right,” Yoongi mutters, “I suppose in retrospect that was a somewhat weak cover. But the money is for emergencies.”
 
“You think I need 13 million won a week for emergencies?” Jungkook laughs, tugging at the overgrown hair at the base of Yoongi’s neck. “Hyung, why are you so silly?”
 
“I’m in love,” Yoongi hums, leaning forward to hover over Jungkook’s lips, “I’ve heard it can make you pretty stupid.”
 
“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers, “my stupid stupid hyung.”

……

The watch on Yoongi’s wrist buzzes him awake, the last of night steadily bleeding from the morning sky outside the glass walls of their East facing apartment. He stretches, briefly wrapping himself even more tightly around the body snug against his, taking a moment to simply bury his head into the crook of Jungkook’s shoulder and feel the ticklish touch of his soft hair. He huffs against his skin, Jungkook so sound asleep a rampaging Taehyung playing the trumpet through the room could not have woken him, his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Yoongi presses his lips to his warm skin before rolling over onto his back and stretching.
 
6am.
 
Time to get the day started.
 
He leans down over the edge of the bed, gently tickling an already awake Chonk out of his basket. They walk together sleepily towards the kitchen, Yoongi pausing to push open the terrace door so that Chonk can enjoy the morning air. He leans against the open door, idly watching as the hairy animal immediately starts nuzzling up to the freshly potted Poinsettia, rolling over onto his back while gurgling loudly. Yoongi sighs, the dog truly is incorrigible. 
 
The frying pan crackles to life, Yoongi following the routine he has been practising for nearly a year now. Two eggs - sunny side up, four rashes of bacon, the rice from the previous night thrown into the skillet along with a generous helping of kimchi, extra gochugaru cause Jungkook likes it hot. He peels the tangerines carefully, the juicer cool to the touch as he works every last drop from the flesh of the fruit, pulp kept in one glass, strained from the other. He dresses the two plates identically, though perhaps he is more generous with Jungkook’s, a side of smashed potatoes he salvaged from the night before. 
 
He whistles to Chonk on the way back,

You’re not the boss of me Daddy,

Chonk’s apathetic glare informs him and Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. 
 
Yoongi pushes open the door, pausing for a moment as he’s blinded by the sight. He had drawn the curtains when he’d gotten out of bed, the sunlight spilling through the walls now a soft golden haze, glittering around a lone body. Jungkook is stirring though he seems still half asleep, his hair strewn out across his pillow, tattooed arms visible from under his large sleep-shirt wrapped around the plumped up blanket he no doubt thinks is Yoongi, quiet

num num nums

escaping his lips. 
 
“Is my baby star candy awake,” Yoongi hums softly as he pushes the door almost closed behind him, he walks over and sets the large bed-tray down. “Does the little prince need a kiss to wake him up.”
 
Jungkook stretches, eyes still shut as he nods, arms reaching out blindly to wrap around Yoongi and pull him down over him. Yoongi presses his lips to the side of Jungkook’s face, his closed eyes, his nose, his neck, down between his collar bones till he giggles, kicking out in reflex. “Ticklish!” he squeals, pushing at Yoongi’s head as he blinks open sticky eyes, his elmo-like laughs vibrating against Yoongi’s skin. “No fair!”
 
“Well if you weren’t such a sleepy head I wouldn’t have to resort to illegal methods to wake you up,” Yoongi brackets his arms around Jungkook’s head, hovering over him. Jungkook grins up at him dopily, rubbing at his eyes.
 
“Don’t stare, I'm all gunky and gross,” he whispers, though he can’t quite keep the smile off his face.
 
Yoongi tucks back a strand of his hair, leaning down to give him a soft kiss to the forehead. “Perfect,” he murmurs back. “You’re perfect.”
 
Jungkook bats him away shrieking incoherently to himself though Yoongi doesn’t miss the way his ears turn a startling shade of red. He pulls himself up, reaching for his plate and unceremoniously beginning to devour the food. “Tryna maf me blufh” he mumbles somewhere between mouthfuls. Yoongi sits back on his hands, watching Jungkook’s brows knit angrily together as he glowers at his plate and trying his best not to let the affection he feels consume him inside out. 
 
“Hyunf,” Jungkook chokes out, hitting at his chest to help the food go down before he continues. “Can I ask you something?”
 
“Anything, puppy.”
 
“Now that this whole,” he gestures with his fork vaguely in the air, “mafia boss thing is out in the air-”
 
“Not a mafia boss.”
 
“-I was wondering if you could do something for me.”
 
Yoongi pauses, his juice glass raised to his lips. “I refused to kill Jimin for stealing your plushie dinosaur before I will refuse again.”
 
“No no not Jiminie hyung and his lying, thieving ass,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth before he sits up on his knees. He shuffles over to Yoongi and puts his hands on his shoulders, looking him keenly in the eye. “I was wondering if maybe you’d be okay with me happening to mention what you do to my friends at college.”
 
Yoongi blinks, his hands automatically steadying at Jungkook’s waist as he pulls him closer, letting him slide heavily onto his lap. “And why would you possibly want to implicate me so publicly?”
 
“Hyung, you’re a very well respected something I keep forgetting what your cover story is,” Jungkook pushes back his hair, “no one is going to believe your ditzy little boyfriend,” he walks his fingers up along Yoongi’s arm, tipping up his chin. “No one except those who have a reason to be afraid of you.”
 
“Oh?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, nipping at Jungkook’s lower lip lazily though the warning in his voice is clear. “Has someone been bothering my little prince?”
 
“I just,” Jungkook huffs softly, “don’t want to waste my time on anyone but you. And I want someone, no, everyone, to understand that.”
 
“I can write my name in diamonds and string it around your neck,” Yoongi teases, the image making his skin warm despite his joking intention. 
 
“I would wear it too,” Jungkook flops over, pulling Yoongi down with him once again, his legs crossing around his waist, “I would wear it with pride.”
 
“You’re so silly,” Yoongi whispers against his lips, his heart beating perhaps too fast within his chest. Jungkook is proud of him even knowing everything. Despite all of it, he’s still proud. “I’ve already engraved your name on this stupidly hammering thing inside my chest.”
 
“And I you, hyung,” Jungkook murmurs, “ I carry you with me wherever I go.” He kisses him, once, twice, a third time for good luck. “I don’t intend to lose you.”
 
“You couldn’t if you tried,” Yoongi says. “I promise.”
 
“Arf,” Chonk adds from the doorway.

You’re in love Daddy

, his expression says as he pads over.

I am,

Yoongi replies,

I truly truly am.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The house of cards has fallen. The king of hearts is dead. The magic shop shall close its doors once and for all. You must decide, do you seek to leave or do you wish to stay?

Jungkook,

Wake up.

Jungkook-

There is sweat like salt burning against his lips. Fatigue like rivers of lightning burn up his thighs, down through his arms, pooling hot and cruel into the pit of his stomach.

Jungkook.

You must stay. You must never leave. You must stay forever.

There is a throbbing in his head more melancholy than mere pain, almost musical though he can barely make it out over the ragged push and pull of his own breath. He is not still, not even now. It takes him a moment to realise in this world of darkness he is still running.

“I don’t want to stay.” Jungkook says firmly, his voice though weak and hoarse, unwavering. There is a man behind the counter. His body is cloaked in black, upon his face he wears a jewelled mask, ivory and gold. “I will leave.”

“You have made no payment.” The voice is familiar, soft and murmuring. Too familiar. “If you are to leave you must pay.”

“I have nothing to give, I have nothing.”

“You have that which you cling to most dearly.” The man raises his hands to his own face, fingers grasping the mask tight. “If you wish to leave you must pay with your memories.”

“No,” Jungkook chokes the word out, too fierce though he cannot confess to knowing the cause of his own despair. His memories are clouded, hazy with smoke and longing. He doesn’t know what he holds but he knows he cannot let them go. “You cannot have them. I don’t need your help, I’ll get out of here myself.”

“You have tried and you have failed.” The mask is half lifted off a face too familiar, plush bottom lip, cheeks still round with youth. “The king of hearts is dead. Why do you cling to your memories still?”

“I will get out of here myself,” Jungkook repeats. “I will, I will-”

“Very well.” The voice is musical as it sighs, the face a mirror reflection of his own. “One last chance. Make it out this time, or pay with more than just your damned soul.”

He gasps as his eyes fly open, colour crashing so violently into his world it nearly throws him off balance. He is racing down a hallway. He knows where he is and he doesn’t know where he is, his surroundings something of a haunted dream too familiar, the ground beneath him seeming to shake with each desperate step he takes. He’s been down this hallway before. Maybe once. Maybe a thousand times. He knows the steps like he knows the beat of his own heart. 
 
Jungkook.
 
That’s what the man behind the mask had called him. Jungkook, that was his name. Perhaps it still is. 
 
Jungkook. It sounds as though he’s heard it before. Said soft, said loving, said as though a prayer against his skin in the dead of night. He can hear it whispered against his hair, callused hands holding him tight around the waist, a voice rasping and low, a voice that seems to seep beneath his very skin. A voice he is sure he used to call home.

The king of hearts is dead.

Jungkook grabs the doorframe beside him as he comes to a sudden halt, the floor before him just moments ago so sure is suddenly trembling. He remembers it now, his mind a blurring void of images and voices and people. There are the same faces thrown up in his memory over and over again - a boxy smile, a dimpled grin, hands wrapped in bandages as they run across the keys of a brown piano.
 
There are names in his head now, swimming directionless till they attach themselves to a stray pair of eyes, heart shaped lips - Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyungie. Each name is like an arrow through his mind, piercing and alive, stitching golden threads of memory together till he can start to see it. Start to see the life that belonged to him a few deaths ago.
 
But still something is missing. In the corner of his mind another figure stretches, long and languid and just a bit cruel.
 
Jungkook gasps as he feels the very floor beneath his feet begin to tremble too. He turns wildly, the path to the left dingy and unpromising but sure in its footing. He takes one step, another, another - 
 
It isn’t long before he is sprinting again, the hall before him seeming to move in kaleidoscopic patterns as it rearranges itself, at moments quiet like a house of worship, in others, chaotic like a pit of sin. He turns sharply around a corner, barely dodging a vase crashing down onto the ground beside him.

“Just stay away from me!” There are hands grasping the front of his shirt, hauling him back off his feet, his back hitting the uneven wall of an aged staircase. Smoke-kissed breath hot against the side of his face. “Don’t ever come here again.”

Min Yoongi.

“If I leave, I’m never coming back.” Jungkook wipes angrily at his eyes, shoving Yoongi off of him with as much force as he can muster. “I hate you! I hate you so much-”

Yoongi.

The king of hearts is dead.

“No,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes fluttering shut even as he runs, his body bathed in the phantom golden lights of the speeding car, the impact so strong he barely feels it at all.

“Jungkook! Jungkook oh my god, oh my god someone call the police, call the fucking police. Namjoon call Yoongi. Jungkook stay with us, okay? You’re okay baby, just hang on. Can you hear me? Jungkook wake up! Wake up wake up please oh my god-”

There is a door at the end of the hallway, half desolate, held together with little more than slabs of decaying wood bolted together. Perhaps it stands out for that very reason, more decrepit than any of the rest. Perhaps that is how Jungkook knows before he truly knows, each step surer than the one before.
 
There is smoke curling out from between the cracks in the board, warm and choking and far too alive. These are not flames made of memory, they are those that draw breath now, that consume now.

“Put it off,” Jungkook murmurs, turning sleepily on the couch they’re crammed into, his hair mushing against Yoongi’s thigh as he blinks sleep-drunk eyes up at him. “Hyung, put it off.”

Yoongi does not return his gaze, his eyes fixed on the distant blackness of the night, one arm protectively wrapped around Jungkook attempting to shield him from the cold. His other hand is restless, the lighter in it flicking on and off. Right now the flame sits unmoving, Yoongi lost in a void of his own thoughts as he so often is, deaf even to Jungkook.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers, hesitant. He pulls himself up, turning to blow off the little light cradled in Yoongi’s hand. “Sleep.”

Jungkook bursts through the door, his heart racing so violently he’s afraid it may very well slam its way out of his chest. His thoughts are racing, his mind screaming with fear, eyes already heavy with tears at the horror he knows he will find-
 
Something crunches beneath his foot. Jungkook startles looking down to see the broken neck of a guitar, its wires badly cut and disarrayed. He can hear something, soft and low, a whistle of a song he doesn’t entirely remember. He lifts his gaze slowly, the room a wrecked graveyard of forgotten melodies, corpses of instruments and sheet music strewn all about. In one corner is a brown piano, its centre smashed in, keys ripped off, the flames already large and hungry licking up its legs. Jungkook swallows down the bile that builds up in his throat at the sight, he doesn’t have much time, but he knows that piano, he knows this song.
 
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
 
His hair has grown out, it’s the first thing Jungkook notices. He’s sitting somewhat hunched in the corner of the room, eyes hollow and sleepless though his gaze burns the same way it always did. But he shouldn’t be here, should he?

The king of hearts is dead.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, his voice soft though it carries in the confines of the burning room. There is no door behind him he realises, no door ahead either. “Why are you here?”
 
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Yoongi repeats, the lighter in his hand spinning deftly. “I knew you’d come here.”
 
“I’ve come before,” Jungkook says and Yoongi nods. The fire behind him has begun to spread, the room around them starting to collapse in upon itself. “I have to tell you something.”
 
“You have to get out of here.” Yoongi extends a hand onto the burning keys, a few idle notes played and Jungkook feels the tightness in his body ease, his muscles relaxing. “Do you understand?”
 
“I can’t,” Jungkook blinks, his eyes spilling hot urgent tears down his cheeks, nails digging into the palm of his hands. “I didn’t mean it, hyung. I didn’t mean it but now it's too late.”
 
“It’s only too late if you don’t leave,” Yoongi looks up at him, the smallest ghost of a smile to his lips. “Why do you linger, Jungkook-ah?”
 
“I said I hated you but I-” Jungkook gasps for breath, the words choking him, memory like nails scratching at his skin, bleeding him open, “I- and then you- hyung I-”
 
“Tell me,” Yoongi says, turning back to his burning piano, “when you wake up.”
 
“But hyung,” Jungkook says, the fire around his ankles hot and insistent, sweat gathering across his brow making him faint and woozy, “why are you here? Come with me- hyung-”
 
“My deck, it’s missing the king of hearts,” Yoongi murmurs, the words more meant for him than for Jungkook even as he hands start teasing out notes from the broken piano, the flames beginning to engulf him too, “but once he said that hearing my piano made him want to live. I need him to live.”
 
“What?” Jungkook whispers, the heat unbearable, his mind intoxicated with grief and fire. “Yoongi I-”
 
“I know, Jungkook,” Yoongi replies, his voice badly meshed with the music. “Now go home-”

Jungkook gasps as his body lurches up, hands on both his arms holding him down, a cool cloth against his brow. There are voices surrounding him, urgent and insistive, words he cannot entirely make out in his fevered state. He struggles to push open his eyes, they’re blurry and sticky and the world before him swims and dances in hues of colours he was certain he would never see again. There is something familiar about the room, the pristine whiteness of the walls, the sterile scent so heavy it is cloying, the hand pushing back his hair is perhaps most familiar of all. 
 
He can hear it sluggish and painful over the static beat of his own heart, repeated over and over - 
 
“Jungkook, Jungkook - Jungkook!”
 
Jungkook falls back against the fluffed up pillows, his breathing ragged and painful as he pulls desperately for air, eyes fighting to find focus as he blinks disorientedly. 
 
“Hyung,” Jungkook gasps, catching the hand resting against his cheek. “Hyung I-I-”
 
“It’s okay,” Seokjin bends to cradle his face gently, moving strands of sweat laced hair from his face. “Just breathe baby, just breathe.”
 
“Hyung, Yoo-” Jungkook chokes on the word, a hysteria of pain he cannot entirely contain within his body. He is barely aware of the rustlings in the room, the nurses speaking in hushed voices, the doctors coming and going. He is fixated only on Seokjin, on telling him what he has to. “Yoongi hyung, he’s hurt.”
 
Seokjin raises his hand to his lips, eyes shutting with a kind of sunken relief as he kisses the back of his palm. 
 
“Yoongi isn’t hurt, Jungkook,” he says, his words careful, gentle.
 
Jungkook blinks, uncertain as he shifts on the bed. He can see it all in his head, feel it in his chest, Yoongi’s hands fisted in his shirt, his angered words ringing in his ears, the blazing light of a car barring down.
 
“But he,” Jungkook manages, his grasp in Seokjin’s hand too weak, his head still spinning, “he was hurt. There was a-an accident. We fought,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes wet when he blinks them steady, “and then there was an accident.”
 
“Sweetheart, that was you.” Seokjin is looking at him as though he is too fragile, just a moment away from breaking. “You got hit, badly. We-we weren’t sure,” he swallows thickly, his jaw clenching. “We’ve all been here, everyday.”
 
Jungkook pulls his hands away, wiping at his eyes, the memories beginning to slowly unravel in his head. They had fought, why had they fought? What could there possibly be to fight about when it comes to-
 
“All-” Jungkook inhales unsteadily, not daring to look at Seokjin as his hands twist and untwist in the blanket. “All of you?”
 
“The five of us,” Seokjin says quietly, the number like a knife through Jungkook’s heart though he bites back the anguish that spills hot and urgent in his mouth. “I don’t know where he is.”
 
“Okay,” Jungkook says, nodding blindly, the threat of tears growing realer every moment. “Okay.”
 
For a moment they sit in silence, unable to look at one another, the pity in the air so rank that Jungkook feels it suffocating him. “Could I maybe be alone for a bit?”
 
“Of course, yeah.” Seokjin gets hastily to his feet. “I’ll uh- we’ll all be outside.” 
 
Jungkook stares blankly up at the ceiling, each beat painful, each beat unholy. How could this be? How could Yoongi stay away for this long?
 
His listless gaze finds the table beside his bed, an assortment of cards and chocolates and a rag-tag collection of memorabilia. Jungkook huffs softly, reaching out to stroke a plushie puppy he is certain Jimin has left behind. 
 
His finger catches on something lying beneath, small and glossy compared to the far larger and lavish gifts. It is a playing card. 
 
The king of hearts. 
 
Jungkook’s breath catches, his heart drumming still painful though transformed, hopeful if not somewhat broken. He turns it in his hand, the writing on the back familiar.

To live without you is a hell I didn’t sign up for

I would give anything to be in that bed instead of you

Come back to me, Jungkook-ah, Come back to me

Jungkook sobs, the card clutched so hard in his hand it is cutting into his skin, but he doesn’t care as he presses it to his chest, his body shaking as he lies back down. “I’m here, hyung,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There are several ways Min Yoongi loves to wake up.
 
The smell of coffee, freshly brewed on a rain-splattered morning, a distant thunder promising long but cozy hours of work indoors. 
 
The hushed mumblings of two or more of his band members quietly arguing whether to wake him or to simply add another blanket to the genius lab sofa where he had fallen off to sleep.
 
The long, lazy stretch of afternoon light letting him know he has slept well into the day, no pending schedules or assignments urging him out from under the covers. 
 
He loves it, the moments of quiet before the hectic storm of the day. A perfect window of peace in an otherwise frantic scenery. 
 
Waking up to a rough, sharp-nailed paw smacked hard against his face, however, isn’t particularly high on his list. 
 
Yoongi groans, reaching up to grab an inexcusably furry body and attempting to peel it off his face. In his grasp something hisses angrily, small prickly little limbs beating against him. “Sugar!” Yoongi rumbles, his whisky-heavy sleep having left his throat dry and raspy. “Stop it!”
 
“Mweeoawh,” Sugar mewls back, absolutely enraged that Yoongi would have the audacity to displace him from his chosen resting place. 
 
On his other side, Yoongi feels the cold touch of a bewhiskered nose, Holly peaking over his stomach to see what all the commotion is about. He sighs, placing Sugar down and immediately stroking him down along his back while reaching out an arm to pull Holly in close.
 
“Nice long Sunday, I could even sleep in, but

no,

you two menaces have to make sure I’m up and awake, don’t you?” 
 
Sugar wiggles up to him, rubbing his little white head along the underside of his chin and purring loudly, his soft fur distracting Yoongi from the irritation he was feeling just moments ago. He pushes his endlessly vibrating cell phone away, unwilling to let the outside world in just yet. Right now it's just him and his two furboys; everything else can wait. 
 
He ambles out of bed, ignoring the eight pitter-pattering paws immediately scuttling after him as he throws open the drapes to let in the morning sun. It’s a heady sort of day, slow and dreamy, the dust scattering in the light moving slow like molasses. 
 
Yoongi takes a moment to just gaze outside, knowing this innate peace won’t last too long. It’ll be just a few weeks until he’s announcing his new album, just a few more before he’s going on tour, and he knows this might be one of his last chances for just lazing around.
 
Whistling softly to his two furry friends, he heads to the kitchen, stretching as he goes. “Come Holly! Sugar! What should Appa get you to eat today?” It’s a redundant question of course, their meals already nicely portioned out the night before by a far more energetic Yoongi. He sets their food down, turning on the stove to fry some eggs for himself, some leftover rice, and a side of kimchi thrown in for good measure. The tangerine in his palm is still cold from the refrigerator, Yoongi rubbing it against his palm in preparation for the juicer, the hum of the little machine a familiar comfort. 
 
It is going to be a quiet day, he decides. He knows he has some files to send and some samples to listen to and a track to approve but he can’t really bring himself to care. The sunlight against his skin flushes warm and bright and he can’t help but feel drunk on the heady slowness that wraps its way around him. He’s left his phone in his bedroom and he decides for once he just wants to leave it there. For once, he just wants to be, all by himself, in the quiet solace of his own company. 
 
“Wuk!”
 
Yoongi blinks out of his thoughts, looking down to where an overly- fluffed- up body is pressing up against his pyjama leg. Holly is clearly ready for his morning walk, his tiny face set in that somewhat aggressive leer he seems to think indicates his need for the bathroom. Yoongi thinks it seems more like a serial killer clown than anything else but it's a point he has failed at bringing across to Holly’s mostly selective understanding. 
 
He sighs, reaching down to scratch at his scraggly little back. “You wanna go to the park hmm, Min Holly-yah? Come don’t worry, Appa will take you today.” He looks back up, glancing over at a highly content Sugar, who's now lazing in a patch of sunlight. “Sugar-ssi, will your esteemed presence be gracing us on this journey as well?” 
 
Sugar looks up at the sound of his name, meowing ferociously when his eyes meet Yoongi’s and Yoongi can tell that even though he has not yet been forgiven for the little relocation episode earlier, Sugar will still tolerate him enough for a walk. 
 
“Let Appa just grab a quick shower then we’ll head on down to the park, okay?” Yoongi says, pushing Holly off his foot and patting his warm belly. He gets to his feet stretching, mind still hazy with blissfully slow thoughts. “I’ll be just back.”
 
The water on his skin is a little cold for March but it sings of a melody he found himself forgetting on most days. Notes of longing and freedom and maybe spring as well, one he hums along to though he cannot confess to knowing the music they create. But it is familiar still, alive. And he wonders faintly if maybe he drowns out this quiet music of his daily life by chasing so restlessly after the one he seeks on the keys of his piano. 
 
He shakes his head, dislodging quiet broodings of thunderous clouds to reflect a clearer mind, one made to reflect the sunny skies of Seoul just outside his window. 
 
He changes into what he hopes are clothes inconspicuous enough to let him roam the streets, not wanting to alert either his security or the press that he’s headed down to the park. He pulls a baseball cap low over his head, tucking the odds and ends of his loose hair away into it, a letterman jacket thrown over his fatigued shoulders. 
 
Sugar has taken to gnawing on Holly’s ear as a cure to his boredom, his white fur glossy and thick as he bunches up his little legs, tugging and pulling in gentle nips. Holly seems entirely unbothered by the younger’s antics, stretching luxuriously in the patch of webbed sunlight knotting across the floor. Yoongi can’t help but still for just a moment, the picture painting vividly in his mind as he does his best to memorise every aspect of it. 
 
He’s aware vaguely that this is the last of such times he’s going to have for at least a good long while. The tour, he knows, will pass in a blink of an eye. At moments it will be agonising, at others so fleeting he will worry it is yet to come, still a figment of his feverishly longing imagination. After which he will be joining his brothers in the military, his furry friends possibly forgetting the feel of his touch over those years. But right now, he has it all still. The slowness, the anticipation, the future. 
 
Holly is the first one out the door, little paws going scritchy-scratch against the wooden plank flooring. Sugar is a lazy straggler, barely seeming wholly conscious as he rolls out of the house, body bunched together as he lets out a deep yawn. He seems to come more alive in the cool spring breeze, chasing butterflies helter-skelter as Holly trudges dedicatedly along the park path. Yoongi watches them both fondly, his chest tight with a warmth too great to hold. 
 
He settles down on a park bench, letting the touch of the breeze lead his gaze astray. It wanders as though completely on its own, skipping over an old couple sat huddled under a leafy oak, pausing near the food vendor’s cart to trace the shape of her wares. Yoongi sighs, letting his head tip back, letting himself bask in the quiet of his own mind.
 
It is the better part of an hour before Sugar lumbers up to him, body bunched and heavy to emphasise exhaustion. He hops up onto Yoongi’s lap, yawning grandly before crashing down into his lap. He sighs dramatically, stretching out across Yoongi, unceremoniously shoving a paw in his face. “Is this a not so subtle sign that a certain someone is ready to go home?” Yoongi scratches circles against his tummy, bending to kiss his little head. “Appa can take a hint. Come.”
 
He gets up, lifting Sugar easily in one hand and turning to whistle to Holly. “Holly, come on! Baby brother needs his overly- expensive carpet to nap on. Come come!” Holly jingles up, little tail wagging as his leash is reattached. Yoongi bends down, gathering them both into his arms and hugging them close. He has to quickly let go as two sand-papery rough tongues come out to lick at him, Holly and Sugar blissfully unaware his complaints are meant for them.
 
By the time Yoongi reaches back to his apartment, sleep has already begun to tug haphazardly at his lids, her heavy hand petting his hair till he is almost drowsy on his feet. He pauses as he is unlocking the door, certain for a moment he had heard voices. He shakes his head, pushing his way in, stopping again when he hears the voices, unmistakable this time. They’re coming from his living room, and Yoongi doesn’t even need to think for a moment before he can place each and everyone.
 
“So who let you six ragamuffins in on my off day?” 
 
Jungkook turns to grin at him lazily, his smile almost teasing if not somewhat indulgent. Yoongi notices he’s wearing his apron, a batter- covered spatula in one hand. Jimin is lounging next to him, a piping bag filled with frosty blue icing clasped carelessly in his fingers. Namjoon and Hoseok are crammed into the same sofa chair, seemingly the ones in charge of the current conversation while Seokjin sits on the carpet, Taehyung sprawled across his lap.
 
“Well, since a certain birthday boy couldn’t even bother picking up his phone we had to come make sure you were still alive,” Seokjin sighs long-suffering, collapsing back against Hoseok’s legs. “And I thought I’ll bake a cake for my first-born.”
 
“Which you aren’t doing,” Jimin points out, “Jungkook is.”
 
“Potato Potahto,” Seokjin waves dismissively.
 
“You forgot, didn’t you?” Namjoon chuckles, “Hhyung, why are you like this?”
 
Yoongi leans against the doorframe, the words in his mouth blunted by the softness of the warmth glowing in his chest. “Aish, how else will you fools have an excuse to all land up here, hmm?” He steps aside, opening the door further to allow Sugar and Holly to come galumphing in to much cooing appreciation. “You better plan to stay the whole day now,” he threatens playfully, sidling up to the kitchen island to get a look at the bright blue batter of his impending birthday cake.
 
“Of course we will,” Jungkook whispers, an arm slipping around his waist to pull him into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, hyung.”