A plain white envelope lies alone on Yoongi’s coffee table for a few days. It’s unlike Yoongi to have anything lying around because he despises clutter and mess alike. Despite that, Yoongi can’t seem to bring himself to touch the envelope, let alone open it.

He knew it was coming. He knew it very well. His twenty-fifth birthday had passed a month ago with smiles and cheer all around from his family and friends. Near the end of one family-filled party, Yoongi’s mother pulled him aside.

“Did you receive it yet?” She whispered softly in a small and dimly lit corridor.

Yoongi averted his gaze to the side before it fell to the ground. Yoongi didn’t need clarification on what she was inquiring about, but Yoongi also really didn’t want to talk about it. It was his birthday and he was supposed to be having a good time.

So, Yoongi didn’t talk, he only shook his head in response. A hand then reached forward and pulled Yoongi’s face up to witness his mother’s small and encouraging smile.

“Yoongi, I told you,” she cooed, “there’s nothing to be upset over. Trust me when I say that you will be happy in the end.”

“I just—" Yoongi paused, taking her hand in his, but then he chose to not continue. His mother already knew what he wanted to say. She knew very well how Yoongi felt about it, but neither of them can change what's in store for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoongi answers his door to a casually dressed man and woman a week after he received the envelope.

“Min Yoongi?” The woman prods with her words, a clipboard visible in her hand.

“Yes,” he replies nearly breathlessly. His hand grips his front door knob tighter as the woman checks off something on the clipboard.

“Well, better we hurry along then,” the man pipes up with a smile, “I bet you’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

Dreading. Dreading is the word Yoongi would use.

Yoongi nods once and stuffs his wallet into his back pocket, along with his phone and key lanyard from the small table next to the entrance. He goes through his door way and locks up his small home. He stares at the peeling paint of his front door for a few seconds, thinking that when he’ll make it back, he won’t be the same.

“Here,” the woman hands Yoongi an unmarked plastic bottle once they settle in a car with the man driving and woman in the passenger seat.

“What is it?” He asks sharply after eyeing the bottle.

“Good old water,” she replies back just as readily, “it’ll soothe your nerves a little,”

Yoongi then turns his suspicious glare to her, but since he’s been completely cooperative, he figured she wouldn’t feel the need to deceive him. So, he takes the offering with a small nod of thanks and takes a cautious few sips while gazing out the window again. Minutes pass and the shapes beyond the window begin to blur more and more, and Yoongi knows it’s too late when he turns an accusing glare to the woman.

“Sorry Yoongi,” she sure doesn’t sound sorry as she checks something else on her damn clipboard, “it’s the standard procedure. Just relax now, no harm will come to you.”

Then the world around Yoongi fades to black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He comes through with a few masked faces looming over him. He moves away instinctually but he only feels the bite of restraints against his wrists and ankles.

“Hello Mr.Min!” one of the masked faces exclaims, “thank you for joining us. Your vitals are functioning as usual and in mint condition too!  Which is fantastic for both of us, only a little risk of side effects for you and little risk of legal battles for us, you know what I mean?”

“What the f—“ Yoongi mutters weakly but gets cut off.

“Relax Mr. Min!” The voice pipes up again and then it finally clicks in Yoongi’s head. The people and shapes buzzing around him are medical personnel and machinery, “that’s it Mr. Min. We’re currently prepping you for the serum and ensuring that your stay here will be of the highest sort of comforts. Standard procedure, of course.”

Standard procedure. Right.

“And since you up and at it, I believe it’s time to introduce the serum,” the talking head nods to one of the other personnels and they return it before stepping out of Yoongi’s sight, “Don’t mind the blindfold, by the way, it’s just to make sure the serum will work at full capacity when you meet him,” and then Yoongi’s eyes are covered. He can’t help but resist against his restraints a little more when his vision leaves him.

Then a sharp prick comes from the nook of his elbow and the feeling of something being injected into him brings chills down Yoongi’s spine. Yoongi then feels the needle being removed and something pressing down against where it was.

“Oh, look,” the voice coos out and Yoongi feels fingers brush against his forehead, “tears of happiness,”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoongi is unstrapped after an undetermined amount of time and helped to his feet. He’s blindly walked somewhere, taking a few turns right and left before he’s stopped.

“Now Mr. Min,” a voice echoes next to him, “we will be entering your room shortly, and all we ask of you is to count backwards from one hundred as soon as we seat you and then you are free to remove the blindfold, understood?”

Yoongi bites into his bottom lip, preventing any words from coming out. It looks like none were necessary because a static “all clear,” comes from what sounds to be a walkie talkie and then Yoongi is marched onward.

Yoongi is maneuvered around in what feels to be a practiced fashion. There’s a few seconds of stillness and then hands on his shoulders press down and push him into a chair.

“Count Mr. Min, and congratulations.”

Yoongi shakily opens his mouth, tears coming and soaking the blindfold again.

“1-100,” he begins, “99, 98—“ there’s a shuffling behind him and a loud click from a newly locked door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The world had a problem.

“…87, 86, 85—“

Technology and medicine had developed to a point that life expectancy was through the roof and nearly all terminal illnesses became treatable. The health of the world’s population was never better, but with that came consequences.

Overpopulation was rampant. The world had become so densely populated that, given some time, the world wouldn’t be able to support two of life’s most basic needs; food and water.

“52, 51…50—“

And what good was a healthy population if they would only suffer and die from starvation or dehydration. So, the governments of the world hurriedly came together and brought forth proposed solutions.

The most popular and well known proposals were the creation of space settlements on sustainable planets. Although the media presented the idea with positive results, it was found to be highly impractical. The costs would be outrageous, and the preparation too long since said sustainable planets had to be found in the first place. Above all, despite current affairs, technology was just not quite there yet.

“38, 37, 36—“

Time ticked on and the world’s powers were struggling with the imposing threat until a new and highly controversial medical study landed in their laps.

It was promising. Risky, but promising.

“21, 20, 19, 1…8”

A few more trials were done, with each trial having larger and larger numbers of participants, and intense observations on the long term effects were jotted.

Twenty years, twenty long years later and the world leaders had finally concluded; The Problem had been solved.

“3,”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“2,”

 

 

 

 

 

“1,”    

 

There’s a deafening silence that hangs in the air around Yoongi, and it only grows louder and louder with every passing second. Yoongi’s hands are clenched tightly against his knees, his breathing going in and out with a familiar panic. He knows, he knows very well what he’ll see when he removes the blindfold. There’ll be a man. A man like any other man, but this man will be the one to take Yoongi’s free will.

He finally reaches behind his head with shaky hands and unties his blindfold. He feels the blindfold fall to his lap, but he still remains in darkness because his eyes refuse to open.

Come on, Yoongi tells himself, just get it over with.

And so, Yoongi opens his eyes.

There, right in front of the plexiglass partition, is the man.

Yoongi reads the look of mild shock running across the man’s face and that very moment becomes suspended in time.

His eyes are brown like his, but wide with a slight downturned puppy aesthetic that endears Yoongi immediately. His nose is straight and perfect, not too small or too large and his mouth, his mouth has a set of plush lips that look pillow soft and are simply begging for teeth to be sunk into them.  

Then the moment in time breaks when the man raises a hand and rests it lightly on the plexiglass. Yoongi observes the hand quietly but his attention is automatically caught by something else.

A smile. A large smile stretches on the man’s full lips and it’s the most beautiful smile Yoongi has ever witnessed. The man’s smile cracks with an unheard chuckle and Yoongi sees the tears forming in the man’s eyes. The smile distorts into a familiar looking ”hello” and it makes Yoongi’s heart clench tightly.   

Yoongi’s heart clenches a second time because Yoongi tells himself this isn’t real. All the thoughts and reactions that Yoongi has towards this man have been chemically manufactured for an alternative purpose. Without the serum, Yoongi wouldn’t feel this way.

But as each minute passes, it gets harder and harder for Yoongi to remember what it was like to have thoughts without the man lingering in or around them. His thoughts cycle through many things, things like how the man’s hands are small, with fingers that would look perfect entwined with Yoongi’s. Or, how the man’s brown hair is wispy and fluffy, and Yoongi just wants to run his nails through them to see if the man will purr in pleasure.

Yoongi, most of all, wants to hear the man’s laugh. Will it be airy like he’s trying but failing to catch his breath? Will it be so loud that it’ll echo in the space around him and in Yoongi’s heart? Will it trickle like bells with a cute wrinkled nose to match?

Time passes by slowly but surely and Yoongi is still battling his odds. He knows he’s stuck in this room for a total of three hours. He’s stuck with nothing but a closed off area to relieve himself if necessary and a large see-through wall with only the man to observe beyond it.

The word is, the serum actually works to trigger and enhance a built-in imprinting mechanism in humans. The liquid gets injected, you become imprint-sensitive for three hours along side your government chosen partner, and ta-dah, happily ever after.

But, Yoongi is fighting against it with all he can. This imprinting nature is not natural. It’s not what Yoongi ever wanted. But, the more Yoongi sees of the man, the more he wants to know him, the more he wants to feel him, hear him, be with him and it’s terrifying.

A large buzz erupts in the room and Yoongi can hear the door behind him open. He also sees the door behind the man open. Yoongi slowly stands from his chair as two men approach the man and grab at his arms. Yoongi races forward on impulse and gets right up to the plexiglass wall.

“Wait,” he finds himself saying as he watches the men lead the man out of the room. The man doesn’t break their eye contact as he walks backwards and, most notably, away from Yoongi. Once he reaches the door, Yoongi reads, “bye,” on the man’s lips and then he’s gone.

“Mr. Min? Are you ready?” A voice calls out from behind him. Yoongi whips around quickly to see a pair of men similar to those who just dragged his chosen away. Yoongi slows down his heaving pants, pants that he just realized were escaping him before he finally replies.

“Take me to him,”

Arms encircle his own and a sharp prick hits his bicep. Yoongi glares over to the offending man with a syringe in hand, but all he gets is a shrugged shoulder and a “standard procedure” in return.

The hallways look all the same with their bland white walls with the occasional metal door passing by them. Yoongi is beginning to think there’s no end in sight until a large pair of doors lie at the end of the hallway. Yoongi feels himself fighting unconsciously against the men restraining him as they inch closer to the doors. Because Yoongi knows the man’s waiting behind them. He’s going to be right there.

The doors open and Yoongi is let go. Yoongi’s eyes immediately zero in on him and his feet race over to him. The man is running straight towards him too until they finally collide.

“Yoongi,” the man says against his shoulder, “Yoongi.”

And Yoongi has never loved hearing his name as much as he did right then. Yoongi wants to call the man’s name out as well, but he can’t. He can’t because he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t know it because he didn’t open that white envelope. So, he just embraces the man tighter and inhales the man’s scent.

“Mr. Min and Mr. Park,” a voice cuts off Yoongi’s dazed state and Yoongi is hit with an intense feeling of mortification. He immediately jumps back from the man in his arms, who looks to Yoongi with confusion. The man then reaches down, casually and easily, and takes one of Yoongi’s hands within his. Yoongi cuts off their shared stare to look down as their fingers entwine and…and he thinks this much is okay. Holding hands is okay.

“Sirs, please come with me so we can just settle the rest of your post-marriage arrangements,”

“Y-yeah,” Yoongi stutters out and then they follow after the familiar woman with a clipboard.

They settle in a room with a table, three chairs, and lots of paper work.

“To begin,” the woman starts, looking up from her clipboard with a smile,”congratulations on your marriage.”

Marriage. Yoongi is married now.

“Thank you,” the man says softly and genuinely, tightening his hand around Yoongi’s.

“Especially you, Mr…Park Jimin—”

Jimin.

His name is Jimin. It’s simple and cute and Yoongi wants to try it out on his lips once, twice or maybe a thousand times.

“—it goes without saying that Mr. Park will move out of the Unlocked quarters and into your abode, isn’t that right, Mr. Min?”

“Huh?” Yoongi finds himself snapping back into reality again, “um, yeah, that’s fine.”

Did he hear that Jimin was an Unlocked? Yoongi’s heart plummets to the point of nearly making him sick, because the world definitely has a sick sense of humour.

“And that concludes everything,” the woman checks one more thing off her clipboard and then stands, “follow the exit signs and you’ll be given a ride back home. Oh, and congratulations once more.”

And the woman with her high heels clicks her way out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoongi was never interested in falling in love. He was never interested romantically in anyone at any point of his life. He never fantasized like others about their future husbands or wives. Yoongi knew he was an outlier because he was only truly content he was by his lonesome. Being said outlier didn’t matter because he was happy with who he was and what his life was comprised with. He didn’t need or want a second person attached to him. He didn’t understand why people were so excited to meet a stranger under a chemically altered conscious, and then have their lives changed forever.

All things considering, Yoongi never had thought that he would be the lucky one between Jimin and him.

Jimin was an Unlocked.

Unlocked children only experienced freedom when their marriage came and not the other way around. At least Yoongi lived a quarter of his life that way he wanted to, and then, the rest would be murky. But Jimin, Jimin was born into the restraining consequences of his parents’ bad decision.

Unlocked children are children born out of wedlock. Although being in relationships before marriage was not strictly illegal, it was certainly frowned upon. Having children before marriage thought was completely illegal and against international law. It worsened The Problem after all.

To deter couples from having children outside of marriage, a set of consequences was made public. Should an unwed couple have a baby, the couple would immediately be separated and placed in prison for the rest of their lives. Their child would be raised in an Unlocked institute where they are privately tutored and closed off from the world until the date of their marriage arrived.

Yoongi has met an Unlocked before. A colleague had married one two years prior, and the two women looked as happy as can be. But when the Unlocked left and the colleague remained, she turned to Yoongi. Right then, cracks began to form in her façade.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked lowly and maybe awkwardly.

“Did she look happy?” the woman whispered, “Please tell me she looked happy,”

Yoongi is startled in the least, because the Unlocked looked as happy as any other happy person may look.

“Well, I’d say so,” he replies again, shrugging his shoulders.

“She has to be happy,” the woman more whispered to herself before turning to Yoongi again, “she…she never understood what being happy or being loved even meant before me, Yoongi. I just, I just want to make her understand.”

It was another reason why Yoongi didn’t want to get married. Being married looked tortuous in Yoongi’s eyes, because you had not one but two people’s happiness to be concerned about.

Now—Now Jimin is having trouble restraining his smile, which was at its fullest strength and Yoongi knows he’s responsible. Their hands haven’t disconnected since they’ve enter the car that drove them back to Yoongi’s home, or he supposes, their home now.

Jimin is looking beyond the car window with mild curiosity and wonder, but it’s his glances to Yoongi that stretches that smile a little wider. Yoongi wants to smile back, but he just can’t. So, he squeezes the hand he’s holding every time Jimin looks his way.

Things were going okay until they arrived home.

“You didn’t open it?”

Yoongi looks over his shoulder from his kitchen, in the middle of pouring both of them a glass of water when Jimin asks the question.

Jimin is standing in Yoongi’s, no, their living room with the white envelope in hand. His grip on it looks a little tight and his eyes are hesitant with confusion. Yoongi wants to tell him the truth. He wants to tell Jimin exactly what he thought of marriage, but Jimin is the innocent one in all this.

So, instead Yoongi says, “I wanted it to be a surprise,”

It takes a few seconds for Jimin to fully process what Yoongi meant, but his smile is back like it should always be, but Yoongi does notice how it shrunk in size.

“Were you surprised?” Jimin asks teasingly, looking down to the envelope once more.

“Yes,” Yoongi replies immediately. Because he was. He was surprised about how powerful the feeling was—is. His very being blends and shifts according to whatever Jimin does, says and feels. His grasp on what he wants weakens the more he’s with Jimin and it’s still so terrifying.

“Oh,” Jimin lets out in a whisper and then finally drops the envelope to the coffee table, “was that why you were crying?” And then his stare is sharp on Yoongi.

Yoongi’s curses to himself because he didn’t think Jimin noticed. Yoongi should give Jimin a little more credit with his perception. He wonders if being tucked away from people for so long had made Jimin hypersensitive to those around him.

“I—“ Yoongi starts, with his mouth suddenly very dry,"I just, I cried because I was finally meeting you,”

Jimin stares at Yoongi a little longer and nods his head, “okay,” he whispers again. And then he takes a few steps and Yoongi is already meeting him halfway. Yoongi’s arms are around Jimin’s waist and grasping tightly. He smells the clean scent of the shampoo Jimin used. He feels the warmth of Jimin's breath on his shoulder and it’s nice, really nice. A built up tension empties out of Yoongi the longer they hold their embrace, but then they let go and Yoongi feels it fill right back up.

“I love you,” Jimin says in a hushed but serious tone, “I may not know much about you, but I do know that,”

Yoongi gulps deeply at the assertive gleam in Jimin’s eyes but he nods back, “Me too,” he says, “I love you too,”

Despite everything, Yoongi knows he’s not lying. He loves Jimin and that fact is tearing Yoongi’s conscience to shreds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you think…” Jimin speaks up in the middle of a quiet dinner, “do you think I was an accident?”

Yoongi has his chopsticks frozen right before a bite and Yoongi can’t move once the question settles.

Jimin is more than well loved by Yoongi’s friends and family. Yoongi would go as far as to say that some of them probably prefer Jimin over Yoongi. So, Yoongi thinks he’s the one at fault for triggering Jimin’s wandering thoughts. Yoongi has done something wrong. It’s wrong to the point, to the ing point where Jimin’s wondering if he was a mistake when he’s anything but.

“Never,” Yoongi hisses back, “Your parents loved each other so much that they wanted you. Jimin, you have to understand they went against the entire world so they could have you, even for the smallest amount of time.”  

“Did they really love each other though?” Jimin drawls out, head down, “they weren’t married—“

“Yes, but people are able to love someone without the serum. I love my parents and my friends,” Yoongi pauses before continuing, “and people loved one another, naturally, for centuries before our time.”

Jimin bites his lips in thought before meeting Yoongi’s eyes, “I just, I wonder what that’s like.”

Yoongi stays silent because he wonders the same thing. Would it feel exactly the same as what he feels with Jimin? Maybe it would be stronger, more natural and liberating? Or maybe it was a weak and fragile feeling, to the point that Yoongi had to try even harder to keep it together.

“But,” Jimin cuts in, “I’m happy anyways.” He smiles a little, his chopsticks digging back into his dinner, “I’m happy with us,”

“Me too,”

This time, Yoongi thinks he’s lying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was three months later when Yoongi breaks.

Yoongi had a long day at the office and everything that could go wrong went wrong. He arrives home with slumped shoulders and sighs periodically leaving him. He unlocked his front door and kicks off his shoes in the entrance as usual.

He pauses a little, looking around curiously, because Jimin is usually right there welcoming Yoongi. Yoongi knows that Jimin has the day off from tutoring at the Unlocked institute so there’s no reason he shouldn’t be right in front of Yoongi and, against Yoongi’s better cool and calm judgement, he panics.

“Jimin?” he calls out, dropping his work bag hastily and takes a few more steps forward. No reply comes and he rushes forward without even removing his coat.

“Jimin?” he tries again, going upstairs to their bedroom and finds nothing. He hurries back downstairs and bolts through the living room when he finally sees him.

Jimin is sitting at the kitchen table, with a small smile ready when Yoongi’s eyes find his. There’s a warm glow across Jimin's features from candles lite on a small cake.

Thousands of feelings run through Yoongi but before he can do anything about them. Jimin stands from his chair and approaches Yoongi slowly. He makes it until their toes touch and for some reason, Jimin doesn’t meet Yoongi’s wide-eyed inquiring stare. His eyes are focused on Yoongi’s shoulder while his hands are fiddling with something behind his back. Finally, Jimin looks up with newly flushed cheeks.

“Happy three month anniversary,” he whispers and he holds out a small and opened box. Within the box are a pair of rings, marriage rings Yoongi quickly realizes, “I love you,” Jimin whispers with the softest and most sincere tone and Yoongi just can't stop himself anymore.

“Why?”

Jimin blinks back, predictably startled.

“Why do you love me?” Yoongi asks again his brow knitting together with the sheer effort of restraining all feelings threatening to rush out of him and scare Jimin. Jimin opens his mouth to reply, but Yoongi cuts him off again, “I don’t want to love you anymore,” he says with a crack in his voice.

“I never—“ Yoongi chokes and takes a step away from Jimin, “I never wanted this, I never, I, we shouldn’t feel this way, Jimin. Don’t you understand?”

Yoongi relives the moment from just a few minutes earlier where white hot panic filled him at the simple fact that Jimin didn’t greet him at the door as usual. Yoongi wasn’t like this before. That damn serum.

“What don’t I understand?” Jimin takes a step forward with concern threaded in his tone, “Yoongi, what’s wrong?”

“Everything, Jimin,” he quickly replies, his hands clenching in tight fists at his side, “everything about us is wrong, Jimin. The serum, the serum made us this way. This love we have, it’s not natural. It’s not real, Jimin.” And then tears stream down Yoongi’s eyes in frustration. Jimin is stock still, eyes unwavering from Yoongi with his hand still holding onto the small box.

“What’s not real?”

Yoongi takes a sharp breath in, startled and then sadness washes over because innocent Jimin still doesn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Jimin, but our love…it’s—“

“It’s real,” Jimin cuts Yoongi right off, and takes another step towards Yoongi, “this love is so ing real, and I won’t let you believe otherwise,” Jimin looks furiously into Yoongi’s eyes and grasps Yoongi’s face within his palms.

“Jimin,” Yoongi closes his eyes, having a hard time even looking at Jimin now. His body suddenly feels heavy and Yoongi is suddenly on his knees before Jimin, “I’m so sorry Jimin, I tried so hard to keep you happ—“

“You do,” Jimin is right down his knees too, “You do make me happy, Yoongi. You’re the love of my life, you always have been and will be.”

Yoongi chokes on a laugh at Jimin’s declaration, “I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for a random lottery and serum,”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jimin drops the box down finally so he can hold onto Yoongi’s hands, “it wasn’t random Yoongi, it was fate. Out of all the people in the world, fate decided I would have you…and you would have me.”

Yoongi looks up from their hands and witnesses unshed tears flooding Jimin’s eyes, making Yoongi feel even more crushed, “I hate this, I hate the serum for doing this to us,” Yoongi hisses, “it’s not natural—“

“You’re wrong!” Jimin cries outs, “This is what love is all about, isn’t it? I smile with you, cry with you and fight with you. Yoongi, you're the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t about the serum, you or I can’t change that. What can change is you finally accepting us. Not the serum, but us.”

Yoongi is reaching forward and cupping Jimin's cheeks like Jimin had done to him earlier. His eyes beg and plead with Yoongi, “Please Yoongi,” he says, “Yoongi, please believe that our love is real. Forget the past and just look at me.” And Yoongi does. In spite of tears, bloodshot eyes and trembling lips, Jimin looks so damn beautiful, “yes, just like that, now tell me: do you love me?”

Yoongi pauses, really paying attention to the soft yet rushing feeling in his heart and he replies, “I do,”

“Is our love real then?” their lips are centimetres away from each other and Yoongi can almost taste the mint of Jimin’s breath.

“Y-yes,” Yoongi nearly whimpers out in disbelief.

“Prove it,” Jimin whispers back and Yoongi rushes forward to finally seal their lips together. It’s messy and not one of their most pleasant of kisses but Yoongi still thinks it’s their best yet. It’s the first one they’ve shared where Yoongi understands that their love is something tangible. It’s there and now, it feels great and liberating. His love is not something that weakens Yoongi, but makes him stronger.

The point Jimin was trying to get across is that Jimin loves him and Yoongi loves Jimin. And that’s all that needs to matter.