"I haven’t seen Hoseok around here for a couple of months,” Namjoon says, holding a pile of CDs he’d just gotten out from the box of a newly arrived stock that needs to be arranged that day, his voice being drowned out by the Pink Floyd record playing somewhere in the store which is unusually empty today, aside from a few patrons testing some of their new western music arrivals. “What’s up with that guy?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi replies from the counter where he’s sat at and he doesn’t even bother turning his attention away from his laptop, listening to a new mix he found on Soundcloud with an earphone tucked in his ear. “How should I know?”

Namjoon stands from having his body bent after putting down the pile he has on both hands and takes two long strides to reach Yoongi and props his elbow up the wooden counter, his eyebrows raising it almost meets his hairline.

“Hyung, you should probably know because, I don’t know, he’s your boyfriend?”

And the thing is, Yoongi has always been really good when it comes to avoiding the topics he doesn’t want to talk about. Sometimes, he’d just shrug it off and tell Namjoon to off and he wouldn’t care if he ever comes out as harsh because he’s always liked keeping things to himself and not giving anything away no matter how the probing could get.

But also the thing is, right now, Yoongi’s stomach is burning from all the alcohol he drank last night and no matter how many pain killers he drank this morning, his ing skull can’t stop throbbing like it’s gonna come out his head and Yoongi is tired. And he doesn’t want anyone bugging him when he’s literally five seconds from dying.

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, the collar of his sweater suddenly crinkling because of sweat even if the air conditioner is still on and it’s November.

“We broke up four months ago.”

And everything stops, not literally, though. At least he can see how Namjoon stops breathing for a good 5 seconds and how his mouth hangs like Yoongi just dropped the biggest news he’s heard in his life. It’s like a scene straight out from a film and Yoongi can’t fathom how ridiculous this makes him feel.

“What?” Namjoon shrieks and the sound of it goes straight to Yoongi’s brain he flinches on his seat. “And I didn’t hear this until now because?”

“I didn’t know it was that important to let you know,” he shrugs, before pulling his earphone off his ear and closing his laptop, putting it into the side. If Yoongi is going to be honest, he really didn’t think it was important for his friends to keep tab on what’s happening with his life, much less to his relationship because they don’t care about it most of the time. He bothered telling Seokjin the news, though, a month after he and Hoseok broke up because of one drunken night he had with the older where he slipped the issue at hand. He can remember Seokjin’s reaction wasn’t this shaken, though.

“Of course it is important. Jesus- .”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I guess I actually didn’t think you guys would come to this day where you’d call things off.”

“What- what do you mean?” Yoongi asks, suddenly interested to where this whole conversation is going that he’s already leaning forward and tilting his head to look at Namjoon who only gives him a strangled grunt in return before he walks back to the work he left earlier.

“How many times have you had a half-assed break-up over the past 5 years? I can’t even tell myself.” He sees the younger’s shoulder shaking and Yoongi realizes how he’s laughing and he knows Namjoon doesn’t mean that seriously but Yoongi can’t help but feel slightly offended the kid is making it look like his 5-year-relationship, his college love affair that he didn’t imagine would last this long, wasn’t serious. And if the time was different, if only he had the strength and if he weren’t a big mess, he’d tell him that it wasn’t easy and it wasn’t like what Namjoon thinks it is because Namjoon doesn’t know. But even so, even if there wasn’t any drop of alcohol in his system at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to say anything because that’s what Yoongi is.

He suddenly has the urge to give Namjoon a headlock but instead he says:

“This one is pretty serious. We both decided to just end it.” Because no matter what, it’s not like what Namjoon said isn’t true. Yoongi himself can’t even tell all the break-ups he and Hoseok had only to fix those with a make-up .

“And for what reason?”

Yoongi kind of stops thinking with that. He only watches Namjoon look at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer and hell if Yoongi would say anything. It’s not like, he owes him the detailed storytelling of how the break-up went and he’s currently, he wants to think that he is, in the process of moving on himself he doesn’t need to be reminded of anything, really. Mostly because the thought just leaves a nasty feeling below Yoongi’s stomach, just under his gut and he knows it well that it’s not because of the whiskey but he will still pretend it’s from the alcohol, anyway.

So he shrugs, again. His answers are mostly shrugs these days.

He’s not exactly lying when he said he didn’t have any idea where Hoseok could be because the boy was still there the morning after they talked about ending things between them. Yoongi wasn’t expecting him to, he’d admit, because the talk didn’t end pretty well but he was there, sleeping, when Yoongi went to work and Yoongi was still able to leave him a voicemail that day, too. But when he returned that night, Hoseok wasn’t in their apartment when he was supposed to get off an hour earlier than Yoongi and his clothes weren’t in the cabinet anymore and all his stuff were gone and that’s when Yoongi realized that yes, that was the beginning of the end and he wished Hoseok could have just given him a head start or some before leaving.

Hoseok could have. He should have.

“I can’t even reach his phone now,” Yoongi says, his forehead creasing a line from frowning and his tone comes out as bitter and he mostly intends it to.

“I don’t understand-“

“No more questions,” Yoongi interrupts before Namjoon can say anything again. He brings his fingers to his temple and he begins to massage the part where the throbbing starts again. “Get back to work. I’ll go get something in the stock room.”

He tucks his phone inside his sweatpants before walking off the counter. He doesn’t have anything to get in the stock room it’s just that, he also doesn’t have anything to do with Namjoon anymore and staying inside that room staring at nothing but brooms and dustpans is a lot much better than being bombarded with questions he doesn’t intend to answer now, or in the near future.

Yoongi doesn’t go to the stockroom, though. He walks inside the comfort room and look at his reflection in the mirror that’s been shattered by God knows who but the fragments still stay together miraculously. He looks at himself in the mirror, his arms in both sides of the sink, frowning at his own reflection. His hair is a mess and there are dark circles under his eyes from all the sleepless nights he’s been having for almost a month now. He grunts, flattening his hair but gives out when it doesn’t come to how he likes it to be.

He’s exhausted. No, he’s way beyond being exhausted. All he can think of doing right now is going home and lying in his bed and sleep but there's still 3 hours of work left and Namjoon to tolerate until then and just thinking about all those things makes him tired. He still has a lot of things to do like doing the monthly inventory of the music store and worrying about where in hell Hoseok is right now is definitely not on the list.

 

 

 

They manage to close the store before 7 pm since there aren’t much patrons coming that day and it was fifteen minutes pass 6:30 when Namjoon began complaining about how sore his arms were getting like he was carrying sacks containing rice instead of ing boxes with lightweight CDs inside.

Yoongi agreed and didn’t make a big deal out of it, though, and started cleaning up to get home already. He goes to the convenience store near the shop and buys canned meatloaf and cup noodles. He shrugs his shoulder and he goes out and walks over to where his car is parked, throwing everything he bought at the back seat and slips through his seat and snaps his seatbelt.

It doesn’t take him five minutes before reaching the flat or maybe it does since there’s an ongoing road construction on his way here. He’s too distracted with the music he’s listening that he can’t bring himself to care about his surrounding (though Seokjin always tells him not to listen to the radio when he’s driving).

He just slams the door close when he gets out of his car and that seems to startle the drunken university student who’s puking beside the staircase and his eyebrows pull together in displeasure. Ah, hardcore partying, probably. “You alright there?” he asks, tilting his head to looks at the boy who murmurs an apology after wiping his mouth and runs away.

He walks through his room and pushes the door, murmuring a low “I’m back” before realizing how his words, though silent, echo inside and it tickles the hair at the back of his neck.

It’s surprisingly quite and still gives him a shock every time he comes home although it’s always been like this every day since Hoseok moved out- since Hoseok left. It’s always been like this for 4 months and three days and yes, Yoongi knows because he’s been counting down the days. Counting down the days Hoseok has been gone.

Because he used to be here. Beside him. For the past 5 years.

Hoseok is still everywhere. But definitely not beside Yoongi.

He doesn’t know, though, when he’s going to realize that he is alone, and no one is waiting for him to come home.

 

 

There’s someone outside when he wakes-up at 2 am to piss, his brain still pounding at the back of his head from so little sleep he just had. For the first time in months, he doesn’t wake-up groaning because he feels like from drowning himself in alcohol.

Usually, he would ignore the knocking and return to sleep but his bare feet are already padding on the floor before he even realizes it and he’s already reaching for the doorknob and he’s already opening his door, only slightly, before his realizes it.

There’s a boy outside his door.

Hoseok smiles at the sight of Yoongi, the corner of his lips curling to each side, showing those two small dimples Yoongi is so fond of more than he wants to admit. He slides his hands into his back pockets before he says “Hey,” his voice cracking in the end.

 Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t think of what will happen if Hoseok ever showed up in front of his doorsteps at the middle of the night but he’d be lying also if he said he’d know what to say if that time came. And it did.

And they stare at each other or more like Yoongi does, stare at Hoseok, unmoving and it takes him a while to realize that he’s already gaping at the boy. He swallows before he asks “Where have you been?” his hands tightening on the doorknob.

“Can you let me in first? I’m freezing my .” Hoseok tells him and he pushes himself inside, his shoulders bumping into Yoongi’s who takes an abrupt move to step back and closes the door behind him. Hoseok goes straight to Yoongi’s room and sits at the edge of Yoongi’s bed, that both used to be his too, and drops his bag that looks rather empty on the tiled floor.

“Now,” Yoongi starts, walking into the guy and pulling a chair in front of him. “Where the  have you been?”

Hoseok looks at him sheepishly, his eyes bright in amusement and shining even in the dark and Yoongi knows that look. Has always been well accustomed to what that look brings, that sly smile in his lips means.

“I swear to God, if you got yourself in trouble and is in the run, I will ing-“

“Kill me. Yes, I know. Throw me in front of a damn bus. You’ve told me that threat enough, hyung.” Hoseok says, shrugging, pulling his headbands off his hair. He runs his fingers through his hair and Yoongi notices that it got longer from the little time he didn’t see him and he admits that he likes it.

“Stop ing around, Hoseok.”

“Okay.” The boy surrenders, and he begins gnawing on his bottom lip. Their knees almost brush when Yoongi leans forward just so he can hear Hoseok clearly but it doesn’t get there. There’s too much space between them that’s too far to reach and for Yoongi, that says enough. “Went home to Noona and stayed there during this whole four months before she threatened me she was gonna kick me out if I didn’t go back home immediately.”

“What?” Yoongi asks, his forehead forming into a frown from confusion and Hoseok only gives him the same reaction. “No, I mean. Why didn’t you tell me where you were? You could have told me. Jesus, I was…” Worried.

“Sorry, I changed my number and I kind of lost all my contacts.”

“Why would you do that?” And there is something that crosses Hoseok’s face before he averts his eyes on the floor, his head hanging too low now on his hunched shoulders and Yoongi would ask what’s wrong if only he weren’t too scared to do so. “Okay, yeah. Whatever.”

Hoseok shakes his head before he lifts his eyes in time to catch Yoongi and like usual, Hosoek automatically gives him the smiles he only reserves for Yoongi. That smile that always means more.  “As you know, I don’t have place to crash in and I came here to ask if I could stay even for a while?” He says the words too quickly Yoongi barely catches up. “I’m sorry. I know I said I was gonna leave this flat to you but, like. Don’t worry, I’m gonna find a place tomorrow.”

“No, it’s fine. You can stay here for how long you want, saves you a lot of money for rent.“ Yoongi coughs and he begins to scratch the back of his neck. “Do you want to eat?”

“You sure you didn’t forget to load the fridge?”

“ off.” There is no bite in Yoongi’s words. “There’s enough stock. Get your moving and eat.”

 

 

 

Yoongi is already sitting by the window when Hoseok’s at the kitchen preparing something to for them to eat. He had insisted that he wasn’t that hungry but the little wouldn’t just let go so he said yes. He got a pack of Marlboro clenched in his hand and his ash tray beside where he sits.

Resting his back on the glassed window, he pulls a cigarette from the packet and secures it between his lips. He fumbles for a lighter before lighting the stick. Yoongi automatically relaxes, putting the lighter down. He lifts his free hand and brushes his bangs upward and his other hand plucks the on his lips, holding the smoke in his lungs longer than needed, before exhaling slowly through his nose.

Yoongi continues smoking, vaguely wondering how much he needs to burn down the uneasiness that’s settling down in the middle of his chest.

He looks out on the window and the sight of the silent city soothes him, at least. When he looks up the sky, there are no visible stars in the clouded sky. He hears the sound of the stove being turned off and the hissing of the fire stopping together with the slow humming of an unfamiliar song Hoseok is making.

He turns his head to look at the boy walking to him carrying two bowls of chicken soup that are probably too salty for his liking. He sits down on the floor just so his head is leveled on Yoongi’s feet that he pulls up against his chest. Yoongi presses the cigarette on the ash tray and begins to clear his throat just when Hoseok is popping the cans of beer open and giving him one.

“How’s it going?”

Yoongi looks at him just when he’s reaching for his share of bowl from Hoseok’s grasps and swallows the lump that’s stuck in his throat. How’s it going?

“I’m fine,” he says, taking a spoonful, before gulping it with beer. “Same old stuff happening every day, though being stuck with Namjoon through time gets more annoying.”

Hoseok lets out a breathy laugh and brings the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. Yoongi eyes him, looks at the crook of his sweater where Hoseok’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows- it’s a sight.

“Yeah?” Hoseok says, wiping his mouth with the back of his mouth, his lips glinting from the wetness the beer left. “Hanging out with him eight hours a day isn’t that bad.”

Yoongi throws him an accusatory look. “Dude, being around him kills my brain cells but he’s not really bad as a person, I guess.”

“You’ve been around him since college, hyung.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can really get used to it.”

Words hang around them when a few minutes of silence comes, only the sound of their spoons clicking in their bowls and the sound of them gulping their beers can be heard. Hoseok laughs occasionally, randomly, and Yoongi is used to that. To him giggling in the most random of moments and Yoongi would roll his eyes, shake his head as Hoseok gives him a toothy grin.

They’re already on their fourth bottle, the bowls set aside on the floor, when Hoseok reaches for Yoongi’s thigh to pull himself nearer and Yoongi flinches slightly with the sudden contact and he only hopes Hoseok doesn’t notice. He can’t just tell Hoseok to get his hand off him because really, he doesn’t want him to get uncomfortable with the sudden outburst and leave (Yoongi doesn’t want him to leave just yet) and maybe his mind is too ed up at the moment but he kind of misses Hoseok’s lingering touch, too.

“So, you’re going back to work tomorrow?” He says, softly, still feeling all five of Hoseok’s fingers on his leg.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.”

And then Hoseok pulls away, letting his hand down into his stomach, making it seem like he’s trying to hide them away from Yoongi, like Yoongi doesn’t see it anywhere.

“I’m really not planning to bother you for a long time, yeah?”

Something probably jabs its way to Yoongi’s inside that causes him some sort of heartache, annoyance, or something in between but he only makes a noise and downs it with beer. “That’s not what I meant,” he says. “You can stay here until the end of the month, or longer than that, whatever.”

Hoseok remains silent for a few seconds before he says, “I told Noona that we, you know? Broke-up.”

“What did she say?”

He shakes his head before reaching for an untouched beer and tosses his empty can somewhere in the room. Yoongi will remember to make him get it later. “Didn’t believe it at first, thought I was lying. Told me she didn’t see it coming.”

“That’s what Namjoon said, too.” He replies, letting out a half-hearted laugh remembering his conversation with Namjoon at the store that afternoon.

“I can’t believe people thought we were inseparable.”

“You didn’t?” Yoongi asks, anticipating for something that will probably come to him harder more than he’s expecting. Come on, he thinks.

“I knew at some point it was going to end up like this.” Then he lets out a laugh that sounds more of a sigh. “And it ing  that I’ve always known all along.”

“Okay.” Yoongi says, nodding, from what, he doesn’t know.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” He realizes that they really didn’t have time to talk after the break-up because the day after they did, well, Hoseok disappeared. Yoongi didn’t make an effort to get ready for the Talk, he doesn’t know if one can, actually. It’s like that to everyone, says common sense at least. So an impromptu conversation about that sensitive topic when it’s barely 4 am is not what Yoongi needs. “Come on, you need to sleep.”

“Do I get the couch?”

“No, you get the bed.”

“The bed?”

Yoongi frowns. “Any problem with that?”

“I guess I didn’t expect that I could sleep in your bed.”

Yoongi stands up and pulls his shirt further down before pulling Hoseok up who stumbles before he can even stand up straight. He’s clearly tipsier than what Yoongi thinks and he only had five drinks. They walk to the bed and he sits first before he feels it dip when Hoseok crawls to his usual side and Yoongi wants to lay down with him like how he usually would. So he does.

“Hey,” Hoseok murmurs, his eyes looking at Yoongi’s, reflecting the sunrise that is yet to come. “You’ve missed me, did you?”

“I didn’t.”

They’re lying in the bed.

Yoongi is lying.

“Liar.”

They talk more, after that. Yoongi’s back pressed on the headboard of their bed while Hoseok lays, his arms wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, his words coming out in slurs. They talk about the new released album of Hoseok’s favorite artist and Yoongi listens as the other talk about every track, and they talk about the new coffee shop Yoongi found and how Hoseok would probably love their cheesecakes, and they talk about Hoseok’s students at the dance studio, Yoongi telling him you’re a ing idiot when Hoseok told him he didn’t get to ask for a proper leave of absence.

The entire sky is already colored in a bright shade of orange when Yoongi gets up to pull the curtains down, bringing  back the dark and the shadow the room had just a few hours ago. He pulls the sheets over them just when the sun is starting to rise and he remembers that he stopped talking at one point to watch Hoseok’s eyelashes fluttering in his cheeks when he closed his eyes.

Hoseok starts talking again, though he doesn’t bother opening his eyes this time.

“This was my home. You were my“ Yoongi doesn’t get to hear what Hoseok has to say before he can already hear the other boy snoring softly beside him, arms still tucked around Yoongi’s waist like he used to do before; his head nestled on his chest. Yoongi wants to put his arms around him, but instead chooses to let his arms fall down into his side. Yoongi would shake Hoseok to wake him up and make him finish what he wants to say but Yoongi doesn’t need to.

 

Yoongi already knows.

 

 

 

 

“You look thinner than the last time I saw you.”

“Hyung, it’s only been four months-“

“Sure, you can’t lose weight in four months, Yoongi,” Seokjin throws him a glare from where he’s standing at, beside Hoseok, who’s already on his feet and on his way to the dance studio (it’s Wednesday and his classes start at 10 today). The older heaves an exasperated sigh before turning to Hoseok, his arms crossed over his chest. “Running away from heartbreak doesn’t change a thing, Hoseok. I was insanely worried thinking where you could possibly be.”

While Yoongi is taken aback from what Seokjin just said, Hoseok seems unbothered and just begins to scratch the skin below his ear. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Seokjin’s eyes soften, his lips tugging in a smile when he reaches for Hoseok to ruffle his hair which earns him a low mumble of appreciation in return. Yoongi removes his eyes from the two of them and wills himself to looks at the television, flipping through the channels. He sinks low in the couch, his elbows digging on the arms rests.

“Hey, so. Uh, I gotta run now or else I’ll be late.”

“Oh, yeah,” Seokjin says, his voice dismissive.

He hears the sound of Hoseok’s shoes padding on the floor as he walks away, not until it comes to a complete stop when Seokjin calls him again. Yoongi feels every muscle on his face ache, because the more Seokjin talks, the more he wants to look at Hoseok.

“Drop by my place this evening, I’ll prepare some dinner. Bring the kids, too.”

He doesn’t hear what Hoseok replies before he hears the sound of the door closing and the sound of Seokjin walking, passing him to get to the table where he sits down and grabs the jar of coffee Yoongi keeps there.

“He’s gone,” he says, after putting a teaspoon on his cup.

Yoongi pulls a face, finally finding something on the television to watch. “I know.”

“You weren’t looking.”

“Was I supposed to?”

They get stuck in a momentary silence after that, only the sounds of the muffled voices from the TV and the constant sound of Seokjin stirring his coffee can be heard. He starts nibbling his lower lip when the other guy takes his first sip.

Yoongi almost wonders if this is a good idea, getting Seokjin to come in their place. He was the first person he called when he woke-up and the one who he told Hoseok was back first. Yoongi was fairly glad when the older agreed to stop by even if it was barely 6 am, knocking on their door looking like he just went for a run.

Yoongi is wondering now if he really should have done it. He becomes unsettled thinking of the things Seokjin is going to ask him that Yoongi is still not ready to answer.

“What’s up?” Yoongi tenses, before peaking to where Seokjin is sitting.

“What do you mean?” he asks, his tone clipped.

“Are you fine?”

“Ha,” he sighs, though he’s not sure if it comes out more of a laugh. “Of course I am.”

Seokjin laughs. “Right. You wanna get drunk tonight, though? We can cancel the dinner, it’s fine.”

Yoongi watches him laugh and suddenly there’s something, triggering a flare of anger inside him, making him see a faint color of read like a ing bull, or some like that. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Or we can just, I don’t know. Go out? Like go to an amusement park or book a flight somewhere far away from here? How about New York?”

“Jesus, just. Stop.” He snaps, shutting Seokjin up automatically, making the older one look away from him and returns back to stirring his coffee, the spoon hitting on the cup harder now. “I know what you’re trying to do and you have to stop that. I think I’m good, and I think I can last without a goddamn alcohol in my system for the mean time. I’m fine, and I’m not thinking of killing myself just because Hoseok came back. And I know, I certainly do, where I’m standing that’s why I will try my best not get my ed while he’s here.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, but Yoongi interrupts him by standing up almost immediately.

“Don’t,” he hisses. “please, hyung, just don’t. I didn’t call you to come here to give me a ing lecture that you’ve already given me months ago. I’m ing tired and I haven’t had my fill of coffee this morning and just so you know I wasn’t able to get any sleep aside from that 2-hour nap I had before that guy stumbled right outside my ing door.”

He lets himself to flop down the couch once more and that’s when he wonders why he hasn’t yelled yet.

“You know I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to do,” Seokjin says, “but Yoongi, I am your friend. And I don’t think it would hurt you to tell me if there’s something wrong and if there’s anything I could do to help you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do. We’ve been having this same conversation for years and I think you still don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into his hands that he wills to stop shaking and he just hopes at the back of his mind that Seokjin doesn’t notice how much this conversation scares the out of him. “It’s just that, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t actually expect him to return here after what I did so it came off as a surprise and I honestly don’t know what I should do.”

And he thinks he probably shouldn’t have said that. He probably should have kept that to himself instead of saying it out loud, should have let himself think all these s through instead of telling them to Seokjin because who knows what the guy is thinking inside his head when he starts looking at Yoongi weirdly, like he’s trying to measure the younger under his gaze.

Jesus.

“What’s going on?” he asks slowly, his head tilting into the side.

“You sure you’re fine?” Seokjin asks, carefully, blankly.

“Seriously?”

“Good. You’re coming with me for grocery shopping. Come on.”

 

 

 

 

Yoongi wants to think that for all the years he has known Seokjin, he’d already gotten used to the guy’s parental nature towards him. No offense meant and all since Yoongi considers him as the best friend he’s ever had, not like he has a lot to choose from.

There aren’t a lot of constants in Yoongi’s life and Seokjin is one of the few that still remain. He’s been with the older since he was a freshman in university, stayed with him during all those years in campus as his roommate and it still shocks him by how Seokjin can tolerate him every time. He’s always the first one to check on him that’s why he wasn’t surprised when the older dragged him out of his bed that first morning since when all he wanted to do was to be left alone. Yoongi doesn’t know how he can tolerate him, either.

Seokjin has always been a lot more observant, standing outside the outline, watching things constantly, ready to step in when he sees something is wrong. Seokjin witness a lot more, that the rest of them do not.

He’s always been a big help to Yoongi, has always been there through his ups and all and the biggest one probably happened almost a decade ago.

He still remembers that one particular moment when he was in his sophomore year in college, when he walked back to their dorm from a frat party he went to with Seokjin just for the sake of attending and to be bombarded with those annoying texts anymore saying he should come. Yoongi still remembers, can still see and hear Seokjin’s voice ringing, his words echoing in his ears and he can still somehow feel how they burnt that night.

 

They decide to make a quick detour into a river bank. It is December, a few weeks before their winter break starts. They’re out, him standing back, his fingers pressed on the cigarette pack he kept inside the pocket of his jacket.

“You like him, do you?” he hears the older guy said and Yoongi hadn’t turned his head that fast before he wondered if he possibly had broken his neck before immediately looking away. Seokjin laughs quietly and leans his head forward, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he speaks. “Everyone can see how you look at him.”

“What?” Is the only word he could ever make-out because he is starting to freak out. Chest popping, his head is a mess, his stomach tied in knots. He doesn’t have to ask who Seokjin is talking about because his system knows. Flashing images of that one particular person his senior is talking about and he wishes, he can only wish, that his face isn’t showing much reaction more than he opts to.

He is too convinced that he is hiding it too well. All those stolen glances being thrown at Hoseok’s direction every time he is in the same room as Yoongi, all those glances he’s been sneaking far too long more than natural probably telling himself that if Hoseok looked up, if he ever would, Yoongi would probably have the courage to stand up and he’d be able to tell him that yeah, you’re important to me, you piece of .

“Hoseok is a good guy,” Seokjin says, leaning further in the railing, voice rumbling low.

He feels it when the older guy returns his eyes on him but Yoongi keeps looking at the direction where the water below stops flowing when it hits a huge rock, his head hanging too low and his hands dipping down inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says after a moment. “He is.”

 

“You look like the moon,” Hoseok had said.

“Well, you look like the sun,” Yoongi replied.

 

And he is. A ball of sunshine bouncing around and Yoongi- Yoongi has always thought that is one, if not, the most amazing thing. Ever.

Hoseok is the sun, the stars, the sea, the flowers and the million other things Yoongi can’t name of in this lifetime.

Yoongi has always thought that Hoseok is too ing bright that if he gets too close, it might ruin him.

And it did.

 

 

 

 

Namjoon is the first one to arrive at Seokjin’s half an hour after 6 when the eldest is just beginning to roast the pork they’re going to have for dinner. The boy falls on the couch beside Yoongi, heaving an exasperated sigh before lifting his feet up on the coffee table in front of them.

Yoongi looks at him for a few seconds before passing his pack of cigarette over Namjoon’s lap who gives him a tired smile. The boy often helps him at his store willingly during his rare free time so Yoongi thinks offering him a stick is the least he could do at the moment.

(Seokjin lets them smoke in his house. Add that one on the list of reasons why Yoongi likes the guy.)

They fall into a quite conversation. Namjoon keeps complaining about graduate school under his breath and how he’d do everything to get the incentive of not taking the final exam in of his law subjects.

He keeps looking at Yoongi like he has something he wants to ask, like he’s expecting Yoongi to open up a topic and he figures later on that he must’ve heard something already and if Yoongi is right, if he is thinking the same thing Namjoon is thinking, if he already knows Hoseok is back, he’s too considerate for not mentioning about it at all.

Seokjin is already preparing the table when Hoseok arrives with Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin tailing his back. The two of them exchange a brief nod before Hoseok chimes in with whatever the other three are talking about- something about what happened at work today, which also becomes the topic they discuss over dinner.

It is a pretty much decent dinner. They keep on talking about what happened to their day, Namjoon basically running his mouth off about school, I mean, I’m not complaining or anything but law school is seriously ed up, earning a collective Yeah, Joonie from everyone. Taehyung and Jimin being disgustingly clingy to each other, kicking their feet under the table it’s almost making Yoongi mad since he is just sitting beside Jimin.

It is becoming a pretty much decent evening, the seven of them just waiting for a hours to pass before they call it a night, but it’s after Jimin had finished washing the dishes and all of them are sat in the living room watching a foreign indie film, when Taehyung looks up at him from where he’s sitting on the floor.

“Hyung, you didn’t tell us you and Hoseok-hyung broke-up.”

He’s just about to answer when Jimin takes a hold of Taehyung’s wrist, a little too tight from what Yoongi assumes since the other boy visibly flinches as he gets dragged into the side, letting himself fall into the space where Jungkook is sitting on the floor and no one speaks for a while, though he can definitely feel Seokjin fidgeting beside him but he doesn’t bother looking at the older at all because his eyes are focused on Hoseok who’s fingers are tracing the edges of the lighter that he’s holding and that’s when he pauses, chokes on whatever that’s inside his mouth, and stands up abruptly he almost knocks over the soda cans over the coffee table.

“I’m going to buy some cig,” he says to no one, hauling his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder.

And none of them actually stop Hoseok from leaving, not when Taehyung is already mumbling a long series of apologetic sentences and Yoongi knows he should tell the kid to stop talking because god, it’s making him more tired from all the emotional stress he’s having and this should have been a relaxing night with friends but Taehyung had to pull that that made Hoseok storm out the ing room and who knows what that guy is thinking right now?

He should have just gone out and get drunk because getting knocked off by a few drinks is much better than this.

Yoongi pushes himself off the couch after thanking Seokjin for the dinner and he doesn’t even bother hearing his reply before he walks out of the house.

It doesn’t take long before he sees Hoseok standing under a lamppost on the different side of the road, his fingers curled around the cigarette that’s pressed on his lips. Yoongi takes a couple or three strides before he reaches the boy, his voice falling into a low whisper in the night.

“You should have just asked me for a .”

Hoseok remains silent, the smoke from his mouth basically clouding Yoongi’s face but he doesn’t falter, while the silence between the two of them stretches longer and Hoseok naps his stick from his lips and presses it on the wall, the fire burning out as the ashes scatters on the ground when Hoseok drops it.

“Hobi?” Yoongi says, measuring, wondering if he should be speaking out loud, afraid he’s going to ruin the peace the two of them are currently having.

The other shakes his head, before he meets Yoongi’s eyes and Yoongi shivers but he swears it’s because of the November wind.

 “Let’s go home, hyung.”

 

 

 

They didn’t talk as they walked back their apartment, and there weren’t much stuff exchanged, too, just before they go to bed. Before they fall into a quiet slumber as they lay side by side, their backs barely touching, neither of them brave enough to make a move to close the distance between them. The last word spoken was a quiet “Goodnight.”

 

 

 

 

Everything reverts back to normal and Yoongi admits that at some point, he didn’t expect it to.

They fall back to their routines back when they still lived together, when things weren’t as ed up as they are now. They’d fall into easy conversations Hoseok starts the moment he steps in the room. Hoseok still tells him the stuff that happened in the class that day or sometimes he’d tell Yoongi about the new choreography he taught and how much fun he had as usual, Yoongi would watch him with wonder on how someone could be so passionate on something.

In return, Yoongi would humor the boy about his day in the store like how packed it was the other day with high school girls screaming so giddily at the newly released album of a popular Western pop boy band and they’d laugh.

Hoseok would say a cheeky comment and Yoongi would playfully punch him in his arms and it’s normal. It’s familiar.

And it mostly scares Yoongi.

Yoongi comes home one day without Hoseok already waiting for him at home and he kind of begins to freak out before he realizes that the boy told him he was going to be late for tonight since the studio needed some extra hand.

It’s already half past 8 pm and he had already finished his food when he hears the front door clicking and it doesn’t take long for Hoseok to appear in front of Yoongi who’s sitting by the window. Yoongi chucks his phone at the wall right next to his head just as Hoseok untangles the scarf around his head and dropping it beside his feet.

There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok awkwardly smiles and says, “So, how was your day?”

Yoongi blinks at him, taking a few moments to search for words to say, and managing a small huff of, “Namjoon broke a few records at the store today.”

Hoseok chokes back a laugh before going into the kitchen to get a box of cereal and pulling a chair just so he could sit in front of Yoongi, his eyes glinting with amusement now. “He didn’t.”

“Man, I’m telling you. He gets clumsier every time I see him I cannot even joke about it anymore.”

Hoseok continues to laugh, his shoulders sagging forward, maybe the entire day finally weighing in, and Yoongi joins him although he knows he sounds tired, too. He can’t help it, not when he lost more than a couple of bucks today that he could probably put into use for buying a new charger for his laptop. He’ll probably have to ask Namjoon to pay for it next time.

 

“Namjoon, you broke four ing CDs in front of me and you still refuse to admit that you did,” Yoongi grumbles, sitting on his usual seat behind the counter.

“I swear to god, it was the dog-“

“How’d you even get a dog inside my store?”

“The girl in the pet store next door-“

“I don’t care,” Yoongi says lazily, fingers playing on top of the cash register, “You’re fired.”

“I’m not even working here!” Namjoon wails, his voice drawing the attention of the other patrons inside the store.

“Then, I’m going to hire you just so I could fire you.”

“Jesus Christ.”

 

“You shouldn’t have been rude to Joonie if it wasn’t his fault,” Hoseok says, his hand dipped inside the box of Fruit Loops that’s pressed on his chest. Yoongi rolls his eyes at that. “And it’s not like you’re paying or something.”

“Whatever. I’m not going to let him step even a foot in my store”

“It’s about time you get a full-time helper, hyung.”

“But Namjoon doesn’t charge me anything,” he scowls, glaring at Hoseok when he chuckles, “And he’s pretty much a good non-official worker.” He looks up like he wants Hoseok to know that he’s being serious.

“I thought he wasn’t allowed at the shop anymore.”

“, you’re right. You have anyone in mind?”

“I have a couple. Are we going to hold an interview?” Hoseok grins then, his smile lighting up the room, and Yoongi’s chest tightens a bit. He avoids the other’s gaze by turning his head on the window where his eyes catch the low traffic in the evening.

“Well, I can probably make Seokjin hyung help me sometimes,” Yoongi says, shrugging his shoulders, shifting from his seat when he sees Hoseok’s grin grows wider on his reflection.

“Or you can get the kids to help you,” he sounds serious for a while, pushing his hair off his forehead. “They’re not going to complain and they’re much more careful than Namjoon in handling stuff.”

“They’re going to ask for free lunch and Namjoon doesn’t do that,” Yoongi sits up, returning his attention to Hoseok who has already consumed his cereal and has put the empty box down. “And aren’t their schedules already hectic because of work?”

“Yeah?” Hoseok frowns.

“Yeah,” Yoongi groans, “Like, Jungkook’s graduating, right?”

“Oh, yeah. But it’s not like you can’t have Jiminnie or Tae.”

“Hoseok, you’re not going to get those two inside my shop. They’re ing disaster together,” And then Yoongi lets himself laugh a little, suddenly filling the wave of exhaustion coming. “Anyway, I can still probably make use of Namjoon for a while so, rain check for looking for a proper employee, yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” Hoseok looks a little wary even though he’s still smiling, “I can probably help you between my breaks, or something. Like, when kids are being little s.”

“You’re kidding. You love kids.”

“Not as much as I love” he cuts off himself, his voice trailing off as his face falls into a smug and it catches Yoongi off guard that he suddenly bursts out:

“I think you can help me out when Joon becomes busy with school stuff. I think.”

And the dim light from the bulb dances under Hoseok when he shifts lightly on his seat and Yoongi thinks that it’s nice being here. The cold wind of the December night comes in through the small opening of the window.

And when Hoseok laughs, something breaks inside Yoongi. Something always does.

 

 

 

 

 “Hey,” he feels Hoseok nudging his side with his elbow. Yoongi groans, eyes still closed, when the boy continues, “What’s your favorite color?”

They’re currently hanging out in a garden behind the Science building where Hoseok dragged Yoongi into after their afternoon classes had finished. He can see the horizon above them when he opens his eyes, the sky slowly darkening because of the upcoming sunset embracing it, while his nose is being filled with the different scents of the flowers and it’s overwhelming Yoongi he starts to think about not getting up and that yeah, he’d let the soil swallow him and be one with it, maybe.

But not when Hoseok is already sitting beside him, ruffling his hair to remove some weeds that came from lying on the ground and Yoongi is already reaching up to help him.

“Why’d you ask?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “It seems fitting since we’re surrounded with flowers and I thought I’d like to ask your favorite color. I’d like to know something you like.”

“What’s yours?”

“It’s blue.”

And Yoongi kind of already knew that. From the soft blue sweater Hoseok seems to wear a lot and the blue snapbacks he’s collecting behind his closet that Yoongi saw when he went in the boy’s dorm one time and on the way Hoseok would stop talking just to take a picture of the sky during noon like he doesn’t want to forget it. Like he doesn’t want it to get stolen away from him.

And Yoongi knew, he knows.

“So, what’s yours?”

“Guess what.”

Hoseok falls silent, his fingers grazing his bottom lip and he begins to think.

Truthfully, Yoongi doesn’t have a favorite color, not until Hoseok yells, “Yellow!”

He looks excited, his smile spreading across his face.

So Yoongi tells him, “Right.”

And he hasn’t seen yellow the same since then, it’s in everything now.

 

 

 

 

Everything keeps flowing smoothly, until it’s already a week before Christmas that Yoongi and Hoseok are both cramped under Yoongi’s umbrella one morning when the both of them decided that they should probably cut low their budget for the gas money.

And that’s how they ended up riding the bus, and Hoseok walking Yoongi to work after having breakfast in the café Yoongi told Hoseok the other time.

It isn’t raining really hard today but still, the roads are wet and slippery, and it’s enough to piss him off. The sun is already peaking from the clouds, just barely, though, when Hoseok pulls his hoodie up his head and slips off from under the umbrella and falls behind Yoongi.

He’s walking ahead from the guy when he hears a loud pounce and when he looks back, Hoseok is already slumped on the ground and it seems like he’s having a hard time to stand up.

“Wow, I regret I didn’t see the whole thing,” Yoongi says, amused, as he extends his hand down so Hoseok can use it as leverage.

“I regret you weren’t the one who fell down,” Hoseok replies, though his voice sounds cheeky. He starts walking again, his eyes focused on his feet. There are barely people on the sidewalk compared to how it’s usually packed. Sometimes, he sees a lot of university students looming around this area in the morning but he guesses they’re already on their break since it’s already Christmas next week.

“I don’t remember you being this clumsy,” Yoongi wants to say that Hoseok can hold on to him or to the hem of his jacket but he shakes off the idea.

“I’m not really the one to fall my on the ground,” Hoseok’s laughs and the sound of his laughter rings in his ears that it almost already sounds like it belongs to Yoongi. “Ah, I can’t wait for spring to come.”

And the thing is, Yoongi loves spring, at least he prefers it over winter.

Because during winter, he spends half of his time wiping the moisture off the windows of his store. The coldness of the weather also doesn’t help how his body always aches, mostly because of how cold their apartment could get since their heater hasn’t gotten fixed since it stopped working and neither of them wanted to call someone and get it done.

He prefers spring because basically, it’s the best season of the year. With fair weather and trees that are blossoming. The image of Hoseok wearing one of his baggy sweaters he usually wears during chilly nights and sweat pants during warm days suddenly comes into his mind. He thinks of him standing beside the wall of the bougainvilleas that’s growing beside their complex and how his skin would complement them.

They take a step on the slippery sidewalk when Hoseok slips again and Yoongi crouches beside him just so he could sling Yamaguchi’s arms over his shoulder and the he is laughing as Yoongi assists him to stand up. He crunches his nose over Yoongiwho only sneers.

“That was so ing magnificent,” he says when Hoseok is already pulling away himself from him.

“Maybe I can hold onto you so we both can fall?”

“I ing dare you.”

And Hoseok starts laughing again. His body practically shaking, his warmth radiating out from his body and it makes Yoongi’s chest feel light.

He feels so light he wonders if he could fly. The weight of the last week’s stress suddenly lifting off of him and maybe, he wonders, if he can escape from everything for a while. He wants to get his work out of his mind, wants to take away all the worries he has. He just wants to stay like this for a little longer, walking by Hoseok’s side while his hand is on the guy’s lower back, so he can avoid the guy from falling one more time. Yoongi wants to forget that he still needs to open the shop and that Namjoon is probably already there waiting for him to arrive.

Yoongi feels his phone buzz on his back pocket and he swears under his breath because he knows who it is even without looking at the sender.

 

Saturday 17 Dec (10:09 am)

remember the last time that you were late?

no?

yeah you can’t because you were never late

(10:13 am)

hyung this will be the last time for a while that i could help you and you’re 27 minutes late

(10:15 am)

i’ll be there in a few

(10:16 am)

yeah?

are you sure?

(10:19 am)

i’m already around the corner you can shut up now

(10:21 am)

5 minutes hyung and i’m turning around to leave

 

He doesn’t bother replying after that but instead mutes Namjoon and puts back his phone on his pocket. He’ll just have to treat the boy something to eat for lunch to make it up to him just this once.

They both stop walking they’re in front of an electronic shop, they focus watching an NBA game that’s being replayed on one of the flat screen televisions in the store. Yoongi hears Hoseok clearing his throat repeatedly and the fifth one catches his attention, the older lifting his head to look at the younger, confused.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks when Hoseok begins scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” he answers, “There is just something I wanna let you know.”

“What?”

“I’m going back home for Christmas.”

Yoongi tries to think of something to reply, but only manages to respond a “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Mom’s been bugging me to come home for the holiday and I thought I should go next week.”

And they both return watch the game again, their shoulders constantly brushing whenever someone bumps on either Yoongi or Hoseok’s back making them stumble sideward.

“You’re still on for the New Year’s celebration?” Yoongi asks quietly, suddenly remembering the plan they had made with the others about celebrating the New Year at their place.

“Of course I am,” Hoseok says and rolls his eyes, before meeting Yoongi’s eyes again. “You sure you’re fine being alone, though?”

“Are you serious?” Because, dude, I will feel a lot more of an if you choose to stay here rather than seeing your family and besides, who in the right mind would celebrate Christmas with their ex? Who’d ing do that, honestly?

“Well, yeah,” And Yoongi laughs loudly, drawing some people’s attention but he doesn’t stop. More like, he looks like he doesn’t care if he’s being looked out by strangers at the ing street right now and he just keeps on laughing until there are already tears in his eyes. The moment his laughter stops, Hoseok says, “Like, it’s probably lonely being cold and alone at the apt, right?”

“, stop talking about me being lonely it makes you sound like a dickbag,” He chuckles, shaking his head before folding the umbrella when the rain already stops. “I’ll get the heater fixed before next week, don’t worry.”

They continue to walk until they reach crossing where they’ll be heading on separate ways. The both of them stop, and Hoseok at him (Yoongi doesn’t need to look up that much. But still, at times like this Yoongi wishes he was taller, and his shoulders were broader).

“I’ll be going this way,” Hoseok huffs. Yoongi takes this time to check him out. His dark eyes focused on Yoongi’s face like he’s looking at the sun. The side of his lips quirks up into a soft smile. “Hyung?”

Though he doesn’t want to admit, being like this with Hoseok still makes him uneasy since he’s still in the process of moving on and cohabiting with someone you’ve just broken up with almost half a year ago is still kind of ed up.

(Yoongi tore off all the pictures of him and Hoseok he had stuck on their fridge the other day when Namjoon came over and saw it and wouldn’t shut the up about it for an entire hour.

“I look good in these pictures how can I just throw them away?”

“Sure, hyung.”)

 

“Okay, see you.” He puts his free hand on his pockets and heads on his way to the music shop. He looks hard at his feet, his shoulders drooping down, and he looks back over his shoulder just to see Hoseok looking back at him, still standing at the spot where he left.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking of turning around to check if you were still there,” he reasons before realizing of how lame that is.

“What?” Hoseok gives him a smile that makes Yoongi’s mind go blank.

Well, I guess, I wanted to see you a little longer.

“Hey, say,” he brings his hand to his nape and begins making a circular motion in it. A habit he does when he’s getting embarrassed and awkward which is pretty unusual. “How about I stop by your studio so we could have dinner this evening before we go home?”

He thinks that there is no proper food back at their flat and this request is completely reasonable.

“Sure. I get off at around 7 tonight.”

“That’s cool,” he says, his feet taking a few steps backward. “I gotta go now; Namjoon’s probably mad at me already.”

“Yeah, bye.”

“See you.”

 

 

 

For the first time in what seems like forever, Yoongi spends Christmas alone. His phone is vibrating every now and then, texts from Seokjin and Namjoon coming from one message after another.

It takes Yoongi an unfathomable about of strength to not pick up the hand held and just throws it on the wall.

He still picks it up, though, only to chuck it inside the box of an empty cereal that’s lying under the couch and Yoongi falls over the worn out sofa after, his finger curling over the seam that’s coming out of the blanket that’s he’s already tightening around his body. His body feels cold and no matter how much he folds his knees, his feet are still freezing.

He didn’t get to have the heater fixed after all.

 

(Hoseok got it fixed when he came back three days after, though. He didn’t say anything, just yelled, “Why the hell is it so ing cold in here?” the moment he stepped foot in the apartment.)

 

 

 

 

Yoongi can already smell the sauce of the pasta Seokjin is making in the kitchen while he’s in the living room, with his feet tucked under Hoseok’s bum who’s sitting on the opposite side of the couch with him.

Everyone is already there, with Namjoon holed up on the dining table trying to finish the paper he needs to e-mail to his instructor before midnight, and Taehyung and Jungkook trying to synchronize their dance while Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas playing in the background and Jimin at the back complaining for them to watch the rerun of How I Met Your Mother and Yoongi thinks it’s nice. This way, spending the holiday with everyone like a family, a dysfunctional family at that matter but either way, he’d take both.

He tries to catch Hoseok’s eye who’s watching the three fondly and when he does, he’s given a soft smile, Hoseok’s eyes crinkling on the side and his smile turns into a laughter bubbling off his chest that it’s already ringing over the annoying music and Yoongi would always, for every day, prefer listening it than to any song in the world combined.

“What?” Yoongi asks, lifting the mug of coffee under the feet of the couch, scrunching his nose before he takes a sip, the face he does to set Hoseok’s laughter off that brings a deep ache to the bottom of his stomach.

“You look super comfortable, it’s cute,” Hoseok begins to laugh again when Yoongi glares at him before he grins and downs his own drink in one go, squirming under his seat, “With your feet in my , I see.”

“It’s warm,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, retrieving his feet back, curling them over his belly just so the quilt around him could cover both of his legs. He gives Hoseok a look, the boy wearing an ugly Christmas sweater Seokjin gave him the moment he stepped inside their door. Seokjin gave Yoongi one too, but he refused to wear it reasoning that I can fully appreciate the irony of ugly Christmas sweaters but for the fifth time, hyung, no.

“Yoongi, you wounded me,” the older says, before slipping into the kitchen with the two bags of grocery in both arms.

“Tell the kids to turn the music down, please. I don’t want it playing in my mind repeatedly when I go to ing sleep tonight,” Yoongi murmurs in a quiet voice, his eyes fluttering into a close and huffs a sigh when he hears the volume being lowered down.

“Hey, hyung, are you going to sleep?” He feels Hoseok nudging his feet into Yoongi’s stomach and when he doesn’t get the reaction he’s expecting, begins pulling Yoongi’s blanket off of him. “Hyung, it’s literally 3 hours before the countdown and you’re going to sleep.”

“Just wake me up later,” he replies, not bothering to open his eyes to look at the younger.

“As if you’re going to wake-up if I do,” Hoseok whines, kicking him. He’d go over to the kids and join them to whatever they’re doing rather than sit there and watch Yoongi fall into a slumber, basically just trying to piss him.

 “There’s not much to do and I’m bored.”

“We should watch a film or something,” Hoseok sighs.

“Not if it’s High School Musical,” Yoongi says and hisses when he hears Hoseok whining again.

“Yoongi, stand up and help me in the kitchen,” he hears Seokjin calling him above his head, and feels it when Hoseok shuffles to stand up. He opens his eyes and sees Seokjin fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, a pinkish apron tied around him.

“Go get Namjoon,” he says, pointing to where Namjoon is sitting. He suddenly feels bad that he has to be present at this mini celebration, with his holiday works with him, a crippling ball of anxiety probably present on his chest because he only has a few hours in his hands and he’s only probably written a paragraph for a research paper. The boy should be resting and not have his nose under a pile of school works to finish.

“I’m ing done,” Namjoon says. Yoongi doesn’t even notice Namjoon coming to him before the boy falls down on him, his body crashing down to Yoongi’s frigid one, the can of beer pressing on the side of Yoongi’s face. “Hyung, I need a hug.”

“Jesus, what the , get off me,” Yoongi yelps, before he shooing him away, his hand automatically flying to his cheek to check if the beer has spilled over it. “You almost crashed me, you idiot.”

“Hyung, I just want to have a quick nap, that’s all.”

“Go help with preparing the steak and enchiladas or something,” Yoongi says.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, “Obviously, I don’t want to.”

Seokjin glares at them, “The thing is,” he starts, “I’m always feeling like an utter , okay? Like no one probably cares about me in this household and god if it doesn’t . Do you get it?” He shakes his head massaging his temple with his hand.

“Oh, god, here we go again,” Yoongi sits up and pinches his forehead. Namjoon is chugging his beer sitting on the free space beside and Hoseok is still standing beside Seokjin, his lower lip between his teeth like he’s trying so hard not to laugh. The kids have already sat down on the arm of the couch, ready to listen to whatever Seokjin is rambling.

“These past few days I’ve been thinking about, I don’t know, how many years we’ve all been together,” Seokjin says, “No, honestly, I’m asking how many years we’ve all known each other.”

“About seven years or so?” Jimin shrugs, his expression pulling into a frown, his face laced with confusion that all of them probably have.

“Yeah, seven. And for all those years I’ve done nothing but to take care of all of you, even letting Taehyung cling into me like his parent sometimes because honestly wiping your asses that are with filled s is probably the only thing I haven’t done to be called one.”

Namjoon is already knocked off on the side, with his head thrown backwards and his mouth hanging open. Yoongi would find it hilarious, would probably burst into laughter, if Jungkook doesn’t look like he’s about to burst into tears or his pants, or whatever comes first in that order.

“Well, that’s all, I think,” Seokjin says, his voice sounding so resigned. His arms are now pressed over his chest, looking less stern as he was a few moments ago, “So someone should probably help with the steak and enchiladas and all the other foods because Christ, it’s already 9:30 for God’s sake.”

“You could have used the time for that speech for the cooking,” Yoongi says, throwing a pillow at him.

“So,” Hoseok starts, but stops in the middle of it to laugh at the expression of Jungkook whose shoulders are already sagging forward.

“You’re a drama queen, hyung,” Taehyung tells him, already standing up from where he’s sitting.

“How many times have you done this?” Yoongi asks, reaching for the beer that’s hanging on Namjoon’s hand.

“We should probably have an intervention or something about giving dramatic speeches like that.”

“Hyung, what the , stop pulling,” Namjoon scowls, his hands curling tighter around the can and pulling it into him.

“Yeah, let’s reserve those kinds of when we’re going to announce that we’re dying,” Yoongi says, which earns a collective agreement from everyone.

“What’s happening?” Namjoon blinks, confused.

“It’s okay, go back to sleep,” Yoongi says, looking a bit soft when he reaches to ruffle Namjoon’s hair, standing up in the process. “We’ll wake you up later.”

“I don’t get it,” he answers, though he’s already straightening his body on the couch, trying to fit himself in the cramped size of it and for someone his height he has to literally curl on the side which isn’t really comfortable and Namjoon makes it look like it is.

“We better get our asses working already,” Hoseok suggests, taking a grip on Yoongi and Seokjin’s shoulder before they head to the kitchen.

And it takes them more than the time Yoongi has though for them to finish. It’s already seven minutes before 12 am when they’re all outside the balcony, their shoulders brushing into each other. It doesn’t take long before everyone is already counting down numbers, and it only takes a few more seconds before the sky is already being lit up with different colors and lights and it’s overwhelming Yoongi, so much that it begins sending a pain in his gut.

The fireworks are shining in the sky but Hoseok, who’s just standing beside him, leaning further down his side more than Yoongi has allowed him, shines the brightest. All the colors and the lights are reflecting on his eyes, still sending the same intensity to Yoongi every time he turns his way to look at the boy who’s already waiting for him to look back.

It’s the first New Year for the first time without the kisses, the hugs, the usual warmth and all the other things Hoseok used to give him and Yoongi feels himself sinking down, drowning, with all the foreign feelings that are enveloping him and when he hears his name being called, he turned around from Seokjin’s embrace, to see Hoseok whose arms are waiting for him.

“Happy New Year, hyung,” the boy says, pulling him closer that he nearly stumbles forward when he hesitates for a moment.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding so quiet when he feels Hoseok’s arms curl around his sides.

Yoongi instantly melts.

 

 

 

Everyone is out by the time the clock hits 2 and Yoongi is alone and drying the dishes he just finished washing. Hoseok insisted to walk the kids back to their apartment while Seokjin and Namjoon headed home, Namjoon nearly tripping on his own feet for the amount of booze he’d drank they had to call for a cab.

Yoongi’s already lying on their bed, already starting to doze off, when he feels shuffling around the room and when he turns around, he sees Hoseok taking off his coat and hanging it over the rack beside the door. He gives Yoongi an apologetic smile when their eyes met, murmuring a low, “Sorry,” just as he begins to stride to the bed and lie to his side, pulling his share of blanket over him, their backs pressed to each other.

They’re silent for a moment and Yoongi’s still awake, suddenly feeling so hyperaware of Hoseok he wonders if the boy is already asleep but thinks that he isn’t, his breathe still uneven and definitely not, when he just chokes back a hiss it comes out like he’s dying.

“Wait, are you okay?” Yoongi asks, his back still turned opposite to Hoseok’s direction.

“Yeah, probably,” Hoseok whispers, sounding sleepy, “Don’t fall asleep, hyung.  I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t know, Hoseok,” he asks, his eyes closing. “You’re just going to bore me and I’m still going to end up sleeping halfway your story about mosquitoes and s.”

That makes him laugh. His body starts shaking that Yoongi joins him a few moments after. “Do you think mosquitoes dare their friends to bite somebody with bug spray on?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Personally, I think not. Because, like, mosquitoes don’t have mind to be able to communicate in such complex ways, right?”

“I didn’t know you were the world’s top mosquito expert.”

“I talked to Joon about this before,” Hoseok chuckles. “And he gave the same answer like I did.”

“Well, you should probably just talk to Namjoon about that from now on because he’s probably the only one who cares.”

Hoseok lets out a noncommittal noise before he goes completely silent, the atmosphere between them ranging from being comfortable and extremely awkward at the same time, until Yoongi feels him tugging at his sleeve and he groans. “Hyung,” he purrs and it nearly made Yoongi shiver because , Hoseok is literally whispering nonsense s right into his ing ear and he doesn’t know if Hoseok feels him go completely rigid because  the boy slowly retrieves his hand off of him and Yoongi lets out a shaky sigh that he hopes Hoseok doesn’t see. “Yoongi, turn around.”

And before Yoongi could even react; before he could even ask me what the did you just call me?, Hoseok is already sitting up and pushing him to lie on his back. The younger holds himself in all fours over him, Hoseok’s leg going in between his thighs and his hand- his ing hand falls in the middle of Yoongi’s stomach and when Hoseok begins rubbing him there, Yoongi feels it dropping on the floor.

(It feels so good that he closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, remembering his situation.)

“Hoseok,” he swallows, and he prays to all the gods that it isn’t obvious by how nervous he is right now, “what are you doing?”

He doesn’t get an answer to his question because Hoseok literally goes down on him, the boy already giving him open-mouthed kisses and the moment their lips pressed, the first thing that crosses Yoongi’s mind is how cold Hoseok’s lips feel against him and maybe it’s because he was just out in the cold morning of the first day of January not too long ago and right now, right now, he’s under Hoseok who’s making him feel things with Yoongi’s head falling in between the boy’s hands and they are so so close to each other that he feels so open under him but then, there is nothing he can hide from Hoseok.

He can feel everything under his shirt and Yoongi moans easily when he feels Hoseok grip his hip, that part just above the waistband of his pajamas and when Hoseok hears Yoongi groan, he dips his hand further down only to touch the skin behind his knee and Yoong squirms into the touch.

Yoongi puts his hands on both sides of Hoseok’s shoulders when he starts to pull Yoongi’s sweater off him. Yoongi instantly thinks of pushing him off just when the inside of his mind starts to swirl and because he wants get it straight, get his mind more rational than this, not when his thoughts are crumbing down and stumbling off his head, because Yoongi is starting to think that they are getting too far. But if Yoongi were to tell the truth, he wants this, whatever this is that’s happening right now and if he gets shy and hold back, he wouldn’t be able to get what he wants.

A sound comes out that resembles a bit of a groan to a moan from Hoseok and holy  if it doesn’t make Yoongi’s body vibrate and his groin is pretty much starting to ache. Yoongi yelps when Hoseok’s head move down, the skin on his jaw before nipping it. He can feel the muscles on his back ripple with anticipation as he clings into Hoseok with his dear life.

Hoseok pulls back the slightest bit and Yoongi looks at his face that is full of so many things he can’t figure out. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes blown out, and Yoongi can see how swollen his lips are by just looking at Hoseok’s and he feels something thugs inside his chest but no.

Yoongi is not going to cry. He didn’t cry for the last 4 months when he was supposed to. He didn’t cry the first night when he had to go to bed- when he had to sleep alone, without Hoseok beside him aside from the scent he left that was in the sheets, in the pillows, in the clothes he was wearing and even in his own body where the boy usually clung when he was asleep.

He didn’t cry the first night when he realized that waiting for Hoseok wouldn’t do good, staying up till 1 in the morning thinking that Hoseok was only caught up in their dance practice when in reality; he wasn’t going to come back.

Yoongi didn’t cry when Hoseok wasn’t here, except he is here now. Yoongi is not going to cry, except he is.

“You’re crying, was it that good?” He hears Hoseok whisper into the spaces between their faces where Yoongi’s gaze connects to his.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says before pulling Hoseok closer to him, using his elbow as leverage as he wraps his arm around the other boy’s neck and he’d do that. Again. He will cross every line for Hoseok. “It was ing amazing.”

 

 

 

It’s already 10 am when he wakes up the next morning.

And Hoseok is nowhere to be found.

 

 

 

 

Mon 5 Jan (9:43 am)

hyung, where are you?

(9:42 am)

are you going to open the shop today or?

(9:45 am)

by the way, tae asked me to ask you about hoseok since he hasn’t been at the studio since monday

(9:57 am)

hyung are you receiving my texts?

--

(2:21 pm)

hyung?

(2:25 pm)

i’m off to my next class text me back when you see this

--

(5:51 pm)

Come to my house I have something to give to you

And bring Hoseok

I’m going to cook dinner

(10:01 pm)

Yoongi?

--

Wed 7 Jan (8:01 am)

Yoongi this isn’t funny where are you

Just answer my calls even once christ ive called you forty three times

Forty three times and you didn’t pick up even one

(8:02 am)

Yoongi

Answer your phone

And why can’t I get a hold of Hoseok too

 

 

 

 

“I want to end this.”

There’s no forewarning. There is no some kind of a precaution or some people usually do when they try to end everything with their partner and no, nothing stops, like how Yoongi was expecting, like how he thought it was going to happen. Like how it usually happens in those sad romantic movies except.

Except the boy stops talking, Yoongi even hear his voice fading with the low murmur of the small crowd that’s surrounding them.  Hoseok doesn’t move, aside from the slow ups and downs of his shoulders from breathing.

“Okay. If you don’t love me anymore,” Hoseok says, his voice getting smaller as he says the words, “I understand.”

They walk back to their apartment in silence, Hoseok obviously making a distance between the two of them because of the huge space the boy is making. Hoseok doesn’t ask Yoongi why and Yoongi is almost thankful for him because of that.

That night, they sleep together. The bed feels like an island, the sheets are states and Hoseok is miles away.

 

 

 

 

The texts stop coming just as soon as they start flooding Yoongi’s phone.

And he’s almost thankful for that because checking his phone every three ing minutes just to see the same texts from Seokjin is not on the top of the list of what he wants to do at the moment. Not like he really has stuff he wants to do but still.

Everyone he knows has pretty much gotten used to his usual disappearing and inconsistencies that Yoongi knows no one is going to bother him any time soon.

But as he expected, everyone started creeping back a little too early than what Yoongi was ready for. Seokjin has dropped by thrice since the Shut Down to make sure Yoongi was alive and also to pick him up from the floor to bring him back to his bed. Or tuck him under his blanket. Normally, Yoongi would hate him for treating him like that but his mind is too ed up these days to even make himself care in the least. Namjoon came last Wednesday, or was it Thursday, to get the key of the music store and hasn’t returned it since but Yoongi doesn’t bother thinking about it so much because it’s not like he plans to get his moving and walk out of the house any time soon.

Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung, though, are the ones who haven’t really stopped bugging him to hangout with them and treat the three for a ramen. His phone kept vibrating that he had to chuck it down his laundry basket just to get it off his face for one because.

He’s not going out with those three now, or ever, or until Hoseok reappears at least. He’s still not sure if he can stand being with those three when they remind him of Hoseok. Those kids are that guy’s favorite, and he’s not going to himself any further to meet with them and watch them laugh like what they usually do with Hoseok. He used to always hangout with them with Hoseok.

So his first instinct when Jimin comes knocking to his door one day is to ignore it, he’s going to get tired of it eventually, he’s going to get the hint. Because aside from Seokjin, Jimin has always been good at handling Yoongi when it comes to times like this.

But when he doesn’t stop, Yoongi forces himself to get up from beside the sink in the kitchen where he’s lying and drags himself to the door.

He wishes it’s Hoseok on the other side even after he’s opened the door and sees Jimin carrying a grocery bag in his right hand and a paper bag in the other.

“What are you doing here?” Yoongi asks, his voice comes out a little hoarsely from the lack of use in these past few days. Jimin gives him a look before letting out a laugh.

“Seokjin hyung asked me to bring you food and toiletries and honestly, hyung, I’m glad he did,” Jimin has the nerve to scrunch his nose in front of Yoongi who only gives him a glare. The younger laughs again before settling his mouth in to a smile, lifting the paper bag in front of Yoongi. “And a few beers if you’re in the mood?”

“I’d rather have harder liquors, though,” he says as he pushes the door wider, letting Jimin in.

“So,” Jimin says, stopping in the middle of the living room, between the two couches that are both facing the television. He drops the things he has in his hands and looks around the house that’s completely a mess since Yoongi really doesn’t have the energy to clean up. “Do you need anything? Like, I can manage to give you a hug or something but you’d have to tell me since, like- hyung?”

“Do you know where he is?” Yoongi ask, his voice is quiet as he looks on the ground. His arm automatically wraps around his own body as he listens to the silence slowly stretching between the two of them.

He’d never really considered asking about Hoseok to anyone up until now. He hasn’t asked about Hoseok, or talked about him, even with Seokjin. Yoongi considered calling the dance studio first thing when Hoseok slipped off again since Yoongi thought Hoseok would never skip classes again. Not after leaving for almost five months but still, he told himself off because he wondered if Hoseok would want Yoongi to know where he’d gotten himself to. Namjoon had a different idea, though. He straight up went to the studio and it wasn’t like Yoongi expected him to come back with Jung Hoseok in a leash. Namjoon came back with no one.

He began to stop thinking about him. Probably blocked his mind from worrying about Hoseok because if he wants to come back, he will. He did the first time, did he? But with Jimin being here, Yoongi starts to think that Jimin has talked to Hoseok, or maybe either Taehyung or Jungkook did. Either way, if anyone of these three heard anything from Hoseok, one of them would at least know.

But when Jimin looks at him apologetically, Yoongi starts to feel a lump in his throat building up and the side of his eyes starting to sting yet again. “I’m sorry.”

 

 

He doesn’t really remember what happens next after that, though. The next few hours come into a blur and when Jimin leaves him, sprawled over the carpeted floor of the apartment, a sobbing mess.

He got himself knocked off by that so little beer he drank and he starts to think of wanting to hear Hoseok’s voice which is pretty much too ed up. And he knows it. But he hasn’t seen him for almost a month and he's been pissing and puking himself to death sometimes he'd wake-up and think he's already dead. He’d call him right now, and Yoongi would blame it to the alcohol the next morning when he remembers everything that he’d done.

Yoongi crawls to the bathroom and sits in the tiled floor and begins to rummage his phone. He finds it tucked between the loose garters of his briefs. His fingers are already shaking when he begins to scroll through the contacts and taps on Hoseok’s number which the guy gave to him that night when he came back. The sound of the phone ringing echoes through the walls of the small room and his heart drops when he hears his call being answered. Technically, it’s not, because no one is speaking and it’s like the person in the other end of the line is waiting for him to speak. So he does.

“Hey, it’s Yoongi,” he says. His voice lower, the fingers of his free hand curling around the hem of his oversized shirt.

The sound of the snuffling in the background stops and is replaced by the sound of a harsh breathing. Like, the sound after doing a heavy exercise or after running a mile.

“Hey, Hoseok-“

“Wrong number,” says the familiar voice before the call ends.

He doesn’t throw his phone away like what he expected himself would do when something like this happened. And it did. But he only puts it down on the side of his thigh, and Yoongi rests his cheek on the cold wall of the bathroom when he notices Hoseok’s string bag hanging on the door. The same bag Hoseok brought with him the night he walked back Yoongi’s door.

Hoseok didn’t bring anything this time- as if he has anything to bring. And Yoongi still wonders if he was that desperate to leave.

 

 

 

 

It’s the first rain for the month of February and it hasn’t let up since it started this morning. The sound of the quiet taps of the droplets in the window send an unnerving chill throughout the room and it’s almost disturbing Yoongi’s afternoon. His bed is slanted to the side, something that he noticed yesterday when he was trying to get a shirt under his bed.

I should probably get this fixed, Yoongi thinks. But then, he remembers, he can never fix anything.

Not even his relationship.

 

 

 

 

It’s after a week or two- Yoongi isn’t entirely sure, has lost count of the time he’s locked himself inside his apartment without even checking if it’s still the same month since this started. His phone calendar tells him it’s the sixth day of February, though. And it’s a little half past the time he’s agreed to meet Seokjin in a food park where the older owns a stall.

The rain has caught up from this afternoon’s downpour and the sun is already setting by the time he arrives in a large vacated place that can pass off as an old parking lot where fire-pits are being lit up in each stores and each is also being brighten up by decorative Christmas lights hanging by the signages. Vehicles are parked in an open area beside the park; a stage is being prepared in the middle where a band is probably going to have their gig later in the night.

There are different smells being mixed up in the air and it’s the smell of smoke, alcohol, sweats and all the other things that are making Yoongi feel nauseous and dizzy in the stomach he actually thinks for a second of turning around and going home until the patrons from the back start pushing themselves forward, passing by his unmoving body, shoulders bumping into his own, making him move forward until he finds himself standing at Seokjin’s store, the banner that says ‘JIN’S BBQ’ tied around the posts that are decorative by plastic vines Yoongi guesses Seokjin bought in a thrift shop.

There’s almost half a dozen or so people piling up in a line that he hesitates to approach, standing on the queue of customers on the counter, trying his best not to stand out for being too self-concious and awkward.

“Hey, Yoongi,” Seokjin waves at his direction when his eyes lands on his direction after giving a middle aged lady her tray of orders. He taps the shoulder of the guy that’s standing next to him, probably a new helper, leans further forward and says something which the boy nods into. Seokjin glances over him again, pointing a finger that directs him to parking lot. “You can go first; I’ll follow you in a bit.”

Yoongi walks to the packed parking lot, easily recognizing Seokjin’s trailer truck from beside a Sedan. He can never understand how Seokjin keeps a trailer truck with him even though he has a house he can come home to, but he doesn’t dwell on the subject that much before he pushes the door open, ducking his head to step inside.

The whole truck is bigger inside than what you would expect it to be when you look from the outside. There are two couches beside the fridge, a small bed pushed backwards by the window at the back, and the other side of the truck being built up with cupboards. Atop of one of it are an analog TV and a radio, a round coffee table being placed in front. The entirety of the walls is rained with Polaroid photos and picture frames hung all over. Yoongi reaches for one that was taken years ago, with him and Namjoon standing by the statue of the university where they attended to.

He goes through half of them that he doesn’t notice that Seokjin is already towering behind him, his head sticking by the crook of Yoongi’s neck, looking at Hoseok’s photo Yoongi is staring at.

“He looks so young in that,” he says, before pulling away and taking of his apron, folding it and putting it inside a cabinet he pulls open beside Yoongi. “Time sure flies.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, before putting it back on the wall and sitting in one of the couches.

“So,” Seokjin starts, pulling down the blinds and plopping on the cushioned sofa he keeps under the water bed. “Seems like things haven’t gotten better since the last time I saw you.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate even for a beat before he answers, “I’ve been feeling more like crap since then. It’s probably not healthy,” without even considering Seokjin abruptly standing up and pulling him to stand, too, just so the other could wrap him in a hug.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he nods and says, “I guess it’s not.”

“What do you want? I’m busy.”

“No you’re not,” Seokjin says calmly. “You’re just lying around your house and actually, I’m proud of you for getting out of bed today.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I do. Get out of the bed, I mean. To either or throw up.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything with that but instead reaches for his phone that’s resting beside his hip and begins scrolling through it. It gives Yoongi time to actually think and just look at the older and as the time passes, for the millionth time, probably, he thinks of how much he’s thankful for him and how Seokjin is so wonderful Yoongi would want to return the favor one day when he stops being a and a problem to the man.

He focuses his mind on his surrounding before he starts fidgeting on his seat which earns him a frown from Seokjin.

“You know when I told you that Hoseok brought everything with him the first time he left?” He asks blankly, and Seokjin puts down his phone. “I found his favorite running shoes under the shoe rack today before I left and I tore off the soles.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin lets out a disbelieving huff, “you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

It’s not completely a lie. He really did find Hoseok’s shoes under the shoe rack today but he didn’t think of tearing it off. For the past few weeks, he even thought of breaking every of Hoseok he came to find but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t. He would tear Hoseok’s shoes if it doesn’t remind him that he was the one who chose the shoes for Hoseok to buy since the black and neon colors compliment Hoseok’s tanned skin when he wears shorts every morning to go for his morning runs. He didn’t think Seokjin would take it seriously, but he doesn’t stay silent. Not until he feels Seokjin’s hand squeezing his knee.

“Do you want to go home?” He asks. “I can cook something for you. We could put on your favorite film and just. Just- we can do whatever, Yoongi.”

Yoongi stops thinking. Actually stops doing something he’s been doing for the past weeks since he’s been alone. He hasn’t stopped thinking. Hasn’t tried to tell himself that he needs a ing break because he might pop off a vein on his head from too much stressing over this but he can’t get Hoseok Hoseok Hoseok ing Hoseok away from his mind because he knows. He knows Hoseok got it worse than him.

He lies on his bed every night and every night his body always feels cold. He would lie there every night to sleep and think of how he’s been so unfair to the boy and he knows how much he had hurt him and he misses him so much he’d wake-up in the middle of the night and would still reach out beside him thinking Hoseok would be there. Because he’s been there for so long Yoongi cannot count down the day and it’s probably unfair for him to want Hoseok back.

He does. Want him back.

And he doesn’t want to go home. To go to the place where everything about Hoseok still lives. Doesn’t want to be in a place where he’s been suffocating himself to death thinking he’s such a ing for doing what he did.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Want to go somewhere else, then?”

 

 

 

They end up going in an observation deck, beside an embankment just a few minute drive from the park. It’s not allowed to be on the platform during the evening but it seems like Seokjin is friends with the security guarding the main entrance that he only had to nod and they were already walking pass the gates.

They’re quiet for a moment, and his fingers must be obviously shaking under his jacket that Seokjin pushes a cigarette stick by the palm of his hand. Yoongi looks up at him before walking to the single pane of glass and leans his forehead against it. He puts the cigarette between his teeth, not lighting it, his fists balled inside the pocket of his jacket as he begins to look around.

From above, Seoul is pretty well lit up. Under them, he can see the buildings lining up by the streets that it almost makes it impossible for him to see the sky. There’s also the art museum he’d frequent to go every now and then and an amusement park behind it.

He’s never really paid much attention to the city where he has lived for almost a decade of his life. Before, he’d think getting into Seoul is like getting into a train ride, like you’d just sit back and be in your destination or some ty metaphor like that. He never did actually think he needed to start from scratch, not like he had started something back from where he was still in the streets of Daegu.

Tonight, just like every other nights, Seoul looks like a giant LEGO built up by a kid’s hand or someone who still has something in them. From the tower, he can see the street that leads to his music shop. He can see the university he went with the other guys, and that law school building where Namjoon is probably at right now trying to finish up his thesis. There, he sees the dance studio where Hoseok can probably be staying right now. There, he could see everything he had lost and everything he wish he could get back.

“I still love him,” Yoongi says to no one in particular. Maybe he only meant to say that to himself but he ends up saying it out in the open. He doesn’t do anything, though. He only stares outside, at the lights illuminating the entire city. One day, Yoongi would ask Seokjin why he owns that truck when he has a house to return to. One day, but not this evening.

Yoongi almost wishes that Seokjin isn’t paying much attention but then, Seokjin always easily catches up on everything.

“I know,” the older says. He’s speaking like he would to a child. Like, when he speaks louder, he’s going to disturb something important that’s going on. “But why’d you do that?”

Seokjing asks as if tonight is the first time he’s asking Yoongi that question and as if Yoongi hasn’t answered that for a couple hundred times already.

“Because I wanted him to be happy,” he stutters, “I thought I did the right thing, man. Guess I didn’t.”

He catches Seokjin looking at him from the reflection on the glass, concerned eyes looking back at him.

“It’s because you keep running away.”

Yoongi laughs lightly. “From the pain?”

“From life.”

“Hyung, you don’t understand,” Yoongi says, “how it made me feel like an utter when he told me he didn’t accept the job. That he didn’t accept it because of me, like I meant something. Like, I meant every single fortune that job could possibly have given him.”

“Yoongi, you can’t understand how he did that because you meant something to him.”

“I don’t.  That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t mean and he does. He deserves the ing world, hyung.”

“You always do these s,” Seokjin snaps, looking at the ceiling, caressing his temple. “You’re always, always making it seem like you’re lesser, always making drastic decisions that always leave you feeling like this. And you know what; you have to stop doing that. Because you just keep on going around circles, you just keep on hurting yourself and god; I can’t let you destroy yourself on my watch, Yoongi.”

Sometimes, Seokjin would shamefully give him an earful about this subject until he’s already sniffing silently because hearing your issues from someone is still somehow hard to process. Sometimes, he’ll see Seokjin and Namjoon talking about him whenever they think they’re alone and Yoongi can’t hear them because he’s lost in his thoughts.

“You should have trusted Hoseok when he said he wanted to stay because I know he did. And you knew, too. But you still have to do that. Hurting not just Hoseok but also yourself,” Seokjin tells him. “You shouldn’t have ignores what he might have said. You shouldn’t have gone on your own decision alone.”

Seokjin moves to Yoongi’s side and then grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers together. Seokjin holds Yoongi’s hand loosely, too loosely that it feels like Seokjin is telling Yoongi that it’s okay to pull away.

Yoongi doesn’t.

He gives the elder’s hand a soft squeeze and Seokjin does the same, making Yoongi let out a contented sigh. Almost. But better than how it was yesterday.

“I’m sorry, I know,” it is so low that Yoongi can barely catch his own words. “It’s so ing pathetic. I’m so frustrated I could cry.”

“Then cry, idiot.”

He doesn’t say anything after that. Seokjin doesn’t look at Yoongi again, but he must have seen it when Yoongi’s shoulders start shaking.

 

 

 

 

It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon

And he’s curled up in their bed, the pile of newly fabricated blankets draped over his body while Hoseok’s working on something on his laptop, sitting by the end of the bed.

(He asked him a few minutes ago of what he was doing and the only thing he got from the boy was a quick shrug.)

“Hobi,” Yoongi whimpers, making himself roll off his bed, kicking Hoseok on the back as he does so. He says, “You want coffee?” as he easily stands on his feet, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Yes, please,” Hoseok murmurs, not bothering to look up. Yoongi only nods as he begins to walk to the kitchen that's connected to their room.

When Yoongi comes after a rough four minutes, with cups of coffee and tea in his hands, Hoseok’s already closing his laptop, before he falls on his back which makes a loud sound enough to make Yoongi halt from his tracks.

“Hey,” he approaches gently, “everything okay?”

Hoseok remains silent closes his eyes and puts his arms over his face as if he’s trying to hide from Yoongi.

“I have something to tell you,” says Hoseok, and everything goes completely still.

There’s a lump rising on his throat, his innards being squeezed all together, the coffee and tea he’s holding turning cold as his skin does the same. In that very moment, Yoongi realizes how Hoseok has been out of it for days. They’re living under the same roof yet Hoseok’s just avoiding every chance he gets to sit down and talk with Yoongi. Sits on the different side of the couch when they’re watching T.V, is the last one to go to bed and he first one to leave and Yoongi is now realizing how Hoseok hasn’t looked at him and it’s been a week.

I have something to tell you is like a preamble for something huge that is about to come and Yoongi has a fair share of heartbreaks because of the multiple I have something to tell you they have exchanged over the years. For the record, that’s what Hoseok had told him the first time they broke up after five months that they’ve started dating because apparently he still wasn’t sure of this, of whatever it was they were having back in the days of 2010 and Hoseok had the nerve to kick him out of their shared apartment.

But they always get through it. They always get back on the track before they can even hurt each other even more. They have. God, it’s been five years.

So Yoongi snaps and moves, putting down the cups and moves to reach out for Hoseok but when the boy pulls away, flinches from his touch, his heart drops.

“What the is going on?” he asks, his voice on edge, cracking. “Tell me, whatever it is,” pulling Hoseok’s arms off his face, slightly scared he’s going to be pushed away. Again. “Come on, baby.”

And. And Hoseok finally looks at him. Finally focuses his eyes on him. And.

“I got accepted in a job in LA.”

This time, it’s Yoongi who pulls away.

“I didn’t know you applied for a job,” he says in a whisper. In a breath. Almost like he’s accusing.

“I didn’t want to. But the guys from the school insisted, so I did,” Hoseok explains. He’s sitting now, his lips pulled in a thin line and his hands clutching on his knees his knuckles are turning white. "I didn't want to do that in the first place."

“What? Why?” Yoongi asks in a hurry. “It’s great.” He's not even sure if it's still Hoseok he's trying to convince but they both go still and Hoseok doesn't respond for a long time. Time only passing by between them in punctuations and.

It’s so, so ing cold.

"It’s not?"

"It’s just. I didn't think it was for me- it's not. Can you imagine me, standing in front of those professionals, like, like I have something in me? smiling at them, making a fool out of myself thinking I’m on par and that I belong when I don't because who am i kidding-" he cuts himself off, squeezing his eyes shot that Yoongi's sure Hoseok can see the stars he used to hang on Yoongi's sky. Yoongi realizes he hasn't taken a breath. This isn't Hoseok. This isn't his Hoseok.

"You should accept the job."

It’s okay it's okay you're both going to be okay.

"I won't."

“You want it, right? You’ve been waiting for an opportunity this big for years?”

What happened?

“I did. And it’s not like, I can leave you.”

Ah.

Memories of Hoseok inside the practice room of the college's dance studio after all the students have gone out flash before his eyes. Hoseok waking up in the middle of the night, slipping off their bed thinking Yoongi's sleeping, driving to the school because he insists he can't sleep when he didn't practice. Hoseok, that one time, when he cried and begged when he was told that he couldn't perform for the dance competition his group joined for because he strained a muscle.

Hoseok.

He’s not going to throw this away just because he doesn’t want to leave Yoongi. He’s not throwing it away because of Yoongi.

“We can always work it out,” he says, barely audible, “long distance relationships aren’t that terrible….”

He trails off, because he’s starting to doubt himself if he could live off his days with Hoseok somewhere on the other side of the world, somewhere that’s 5000 miles away from him but he can’t be ing selfish right now. He can’t.

“We can’t,” Hoseok tells him and he sounds so desperate when he reaches weakly for Yoongi and easily entangling their fingers together, fitting so perfectly between the spaces, pulling him in that Yoongi trips before he falls on Hoseok’s lap.

Yoongi thinks if this is alright.

“I’m not leaving you. You’re the most important, okay? I’m not leaving you, Yoongi-hyung.”

He can almost hear Hoseok’s brain working, almost. Can see the wires ticking and running and Yoongi would want not to. Would rather cover his ears with his hands if Hoseok’s not holding them so tightly into his own.

Yoongi thinks they’re going to be okay.

No, he’s not.

 

 

 

 

It’s just after he’s eaten the Chinese dinner takeout Seokjin had brought him when he received a call from Jimin.  He hesitates momentarily, and then turns off the TV that’s showing an endorsement for enhancement pills. Yoongi accepts the call, swiping the screen, Jimin’s face comes in the view, looking so disheveled as he looks around and comes back up to look at Yoongi.

“I’m sorry for calling you this late, hyung,” he says, his voice a little less chirper that what is usually sounds.

“It’s fine. What do you want?”  He asks quietly, trying to ease down the feeling that’s blooming in the middle of his chest as he sits down on the couch.

“Oh, it’s just,” Jimin begins to answer, before he looks behind his back briefly where crashing and kicking sounds come it almost startle Yoongi. “Taehyung, what are you doing? Stop kicking the chair for Christ’s sake.”

“Okay. Sorry. I know you love that antique chair, I didn’t mean to knock it down,” Taehyung comes in the view holding a couple of saucer plates before he drops it on the tiled floor which Yoongi’s sure cracked from how forcefully Taehyung dropped the plates.

“What the hell is happening there?” He asks, insisting. “Are you guys fighting?”

“No, not really. it’s just, we saw Hobi-hyung at the park near the station and we thought you should know.”

Yoongi almost drops the handheld upon hearing the name he hasn’t heard for days. Weeks. A month. And he stop himself from bombarding Jimin questions upon questions of Where is he or How is he or When did you see him or Why didn’t you call me when you were still with him or Why didn’t you just bring him back to him please bring him back to me.

“Was he alone?” He asks instead, his chest rising as he breathes, anticipating for the answer Jimin is going to give, anxiety making its way up to his throat, pouring out of his mouth and covering him entirely. He doesn’t even know if that makes sense, of why he asked him dad. It’s not like Hoseok is with someone. It’s not like Hoseok is going to be alone with someone. With someone other than him.

“Yeah. And drunk, maybe.”

“You could have dragged him back here.”

“We tried,” Jimin says flatly, heaving a sigh, before he tosses a can, or a bottle, Yoongi doesn’t bother minding, somewhere in the room. “but he was so stubborn and Hobi-hyung punched Tae in the nose. That’s why he’s mad, by the way.”

“Jesus.”

Jimin nods. And then, “I think you should go now, hyung.”

 

 

 

 

Hoseok is in fact at the park where Jimin instructed him to go. His body lying limply on the sand box by the swing set, holding a bottle of booze in his hand that’s hanging too high above his face.

Yoongi closes the distance between the two of them by quick strides, his heart thumping louder than his steps he wonders if Hoseok can hear it, if the boy has already noticed his presence in the space. Probably not.

Not when Hoseok still hasn’t moved even an inch even though Yoongi’s already standing by his feet, standing between his legs. That’s when Yoongi realizes that Hoseok’s barefooted, his boots set aside on his head.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word for a while, his head too messy and his eyes stinging from something he can’t put his mind into. His fingers begin to twirl around the loop of his pants, the one he’s been wearing for three days or so, he could’ve peed in it for all he knows but he can never begin to care, not when Hoseok’s eyes are already on him.

“How’d you know I’m here?” He asks quietly, whispers rather, though it’s still audible over the sound of the trains running above their heads.

“Jimin and Tae saw you here earlier.” He answers. “They told me.”

“I see. Of course they would,” Hoseok says before he swallows what little beer remains in the bottle he’s holding and rolls into his side, gripping both of his jacket’s ends, tightening it around his body.

“Hey, can you stand up? I want to talk to you properly.”

“Is that what you came here for? To have the talk we should’ve had ages ago?”

“Hoseok-“

Hoseok nods, squints his eyes, stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“How are you?” Hoseok asks, going round to reach his boots, fitting his feet in them.

“Not fine. Feeling like . Like worthless.”

“Did you even try looking for me?” he snaps, eyes turning sharper as the moment passes.

“No,” Hoseok’s face falls, and then he looks away. There’s a slight pause. “How have you been? I’ve been thinking about you all this time.”

“No, you weren’t. You didn’t even try to find me so don’t tell me you-“

“Hoseok, how am I going to find you if you were running away from me?” The words taste bitterly on his mouth. Taste like sulfur or something that would want you to throw up. He doesn’t even want to think about it. Think about how Hoseok ran away from him for four months before he came back only to run away from him again.

How do they always end up hurting each other, every time? But then, they’ve never had to be like this before. Never had to go backpacking for more than a month. Never had to go back to their parents just because one kicked either of them out. They’ve never had to go through this before and Yoongi doesn’t know what to do.

“And now you’re making this my fault?” he asks, closing to screaming, looking a little bit angrier now than how he looked the moment he saw Yoongi standing in front of him. Good. Because Yoongi prefers him this way.

“What exactly did you come here for? What do you want from me? What are you here for looking like, like you’re putting me under everything?” Hoseok asks, his voice deathly quiet, “I’m the one whose heart is getting ed over right now so you don’t get to talk. You don’t get to have a say about anything and you don’t get to blame me with s you did yourself.

“I didn’t ask you then, but I want to ask you now. Because it’s been months and it’s all I can ever think about and god, do you even know how unfair is that? Because I’ve been trying to understand this ing bull and I still haven’t figured out what I did and I want to know.” He’s going straight to it, his eyes and voice persistent to have the answer and if he can’t have it for the next minutes, Hoseok looks like he’s going to explode. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you suddenly throw me away like I was nothing, like we were nothing?”

This is something Yoongi has been avoiding to be asked since Hoseok came back, something he’s pushed around multiple times but the thing is he can’t continue avoiding this. Not when he has hurt Hoseok enough.

“Was it really because you stopped loving me?” Hoseok asks and he sounds so, so small. So close to tears.

“No,” is the only thing Yoongi can utter.

“Then why!” he yells, voice cracking, his tears begin fall. “Look at me, hyung! Just- please, tell me. Tell me, please, I’m begging you.”

“Okay. Hoseok, I’ll tell you. But you have to believe me, okay?” Yoongi’s saying, his fingers digging their way down his palms he wonders if he’s already bleeding himself.  “I was afraid I was robbing you off your future. That I was ruining everything you could have because of me. Because I didn’t want to feel like I was holding you down, that I’m just an unnecessary baggage that will cause you to limit yourself.”

“What,” Hoseok asks, frowning, “are you talking about?”

“Hoseok, you can have a better life without me. You could have,” he says, “You should’ve just accepted the job offer.”

Hoseok doesn’t say anything for a while. Heads to the other direction and leans on the tree, and Yoongi remains unmoving. Yoongi only looks at him with wide eyes and he starts fidgeting, shifting his weight from foot to foot, weighing the option whether to go where Hoseok is or not. If he’s even allowed to.

“Oh, I think I get it,” Hoseok says, Yoongi follows him then, “So you just decided that you wanted to break-up with me because of something I decided for myself?”

“Listen,” Yoongi blinks rapidly, trying to push back the fear he’s feeling, “I had to think about it. I had to. Or else you’re also going to end up in a lump like me and I couldn’t help thinking of what might happen if you ever change your mind. When you realized I am not as important as you think I am. I wouldn’t know what to do by then.”

There’s something in telling that openly makes Yoongi to lie down and never get up. He feels sick in the stomach voicing everything out. Feels stupidly scared Hoseok is just going to turn away and leave him because Yoongi is being selfish and that will be the end of it. That will be the end of everything. As if he hadn’t ended the night when Yoongi cut it off. Made sure it was over.

“It was for your own good, you need to realize it,” Yoongi says, the wind passing through his nape.

“No it wasn’t,” Hoseok hisses, “If it was, you should have talked to me. You should have told me and I would’ve understood.”

Yoongi tries to look for the right word, before saying, “You would have just refused the idea. I tried to, but you shoved it away. You were clinging into me and I just. I couldn’t make myself say it.”

“You should have trusted me when I said I wanted to stay. God, I did. I do. I want to stay. Always, hyung.”

“Hoseok-“

“Stop! Don’t,” he screams harshly, shaking his head furiously, his body backing away as he cries. “Don’t ing touch me, I- I ing hate you.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers, “I’m really sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m really sorry, Hobi, I’m sorry.”

“Five years. Five ing years and you still didn’t believe me. Of all people, you should know, more than anyone, the things I would do just to be with you,” Hoseok drops his head and laughs bitterly, “I will always choose you over everything and it ing how it seems like I’m the only one who thinks I have a whole goddamn future here with you

“You’re always, always so ing wrong about me. I don’t know how you can just throw everything away over something as selfish as that. I don’t know if everything just didn’t mean anything to you or you just-“ he says, chokes, and looks at Yoongi straight in the eyes, “I love you please stop hurting me.” Hoseok is not crying anymore, but he looks so ing miserable it breaks Yoongi’s heart to look at the boy. So he wills himself to look at everything. Everything that is not Jung Hoseok.

“I didn’t get out of the bed for so long. Couldn’t. Maybe I did go out of the bed but only to piss and throw up,” Yoongi gnaws on his bottom lip glancing back at Hoseok, “And every day I think about how much I want you back.”

Everything around snaps quiet.

“Are you- are you being serious right now?” Hoseok sounds like he’s just about to cry again. “Like, I am not hearing my usual delusional s because I think I just heard you said you wanted me back.”

“I do. Want you back,” he answers, “and I know how much I’ve hurt you and we might not be able to return back to what we used to be but I want you to come home. With me.”

“Jesus ing- I definitely can’t afford a goddamn heartbreak for the second time from the same person.”

Yoongi looks dumbfounded, is quiet, until he’s saying, “I don’t know what to do, Hobi,” his voice wavering, his hands pressed together, “I’m not even sure if I deserve it,” he rasps, “but I want us. I will do anything you want, whatever it takes.”

“It’s not easy,” Hoseok says, quieter more than ever he’s been tonight, sounding tired. “You know it’s not easy, hyung.”

Yoongi knows.

“But I’ll think about. I will. I’m going back. Just not today,” or for another couple of days, Yoongi knows that, too.

 

 

They fall into a comfortable silence, as comfortable as they can be in a situation they’re in. Hours might have already passed with them just standing there, smoking, Yoongi occasionally checking Hoseok from time to time if Hoseok has already gone away without Yoongi noticing and honestly, he doesn’t want that. He busies himself worrying about it, not bothering to count down the minutes this time.

“I think I should go,” Hoseok says, and Yoongi nods, dropping his stick on the ground, stepping it with the heel of his shoe. “You’ll be fine on your way, right?”

“I should be the one saying that to you” Yoongi wants to say, only it comes out as “Yeah. Where have you been staying, by the way?”

“At Jungkook’s.”

“He didn’t tell me anything.”

“I didn’t want you to know” only it comes out as “I asked him not to.”

 

 

 

 

The first thing he does that night when he comes back is to take a shower. It’s always the first stage in recovery, Seokjin would tell him. And so he does.

He goes to bed after that, after giving Namjoon a call, asking the younger if it’s okay for him to drop by tomorrow and return the store’s key first thing in the morning. Yoongi has decided that it’s time for him to open the shop by himself again, decided that it’s the best outlet so that he can distract himself for a while rather than continuing sulking in his room.

Although he knows it’s not going to be tomorrow, or the day after that. He gives himself a few days to work on himself and his place, tells himself that he must go to work before the weekend.

Yoongi starts accepting calls again. Gets the call from the dealer that supplies his shop goodies, gives a call to his mom telling him he's fine and that he’s sorry he couldn’t visit last New Year and that Yes, mom. I’m coming on my birthday. With Hoseok, he’d say, Hopefully, he adds.

With coffee in his hands he starts to water the plants he’s growing by his veranda, waving the aunt that came out the room next door to hang a bed sheet on the steel clothesline. He moves to the kitchen next, empties his refrigerator by taking out empty boxes of milk and cereals he and Hoseok forgot to put in the trash; washes the plates in the sink which doesn’t take him so long since he’s been eating by Styrofoam takeouts. He moves to his bedroom to pick up all the cigarette butts and dirty laundries before piling them up on his washing machine before he goes to his bathroom to restock new supplies like soap, shampoo, tissue towels that he got from the toiletry bag Jimin brought him the other day.

It’s before lunch when he decides to take a break. Decides to lie down on his undone bed, with his phone in his grip, reading past through the text messages and stopping on one that catches his attention.

 

Wed 10 Feb (11:53 am)

hyung?

i’m sure you already heard from hobi-hyung?

that he’s been staying with me for like a month now

(11:56 am)

yeah. he told me

(11:57 am)

okay so first of all i would have told you if only he didn’t tell me not to

(11:58 am)

it seemed like he didn’t want you to know

or something

I think I shouldn’t have said that one right?

(12:01 pm)

no it’s okay

how is he

he came home safe last night did he?

(12:03 pm)

yeah

he was crying

he looked hurt

(12:04 pm)

okay

just make sure he eats. and that he comes home every day. please don’t take your eyes off him if that’s possible

(12:05 pm)

i won’t, i promise

we’re at the studio right now, thought you’d want to know

(12:07 pm)

alright, i owe you this one, jeon. Thx

(12:09 pm)

no problem, hyung

 

Yoongi drops his phone on his stomach, and lets out a proper breath he hasn’t had for a good five weeks.

He’s not sure of how long it will take for things to be at least okay, it’s not like he’s assuming everything’s going to turn out best right off the bat. But he’s breathing, took a shower, drank coffee and watered the plants and isn’t screaming at anyone so he thinks things are going just fine.

Yoongi moves slightly. The bed creaks.

He gets up to call the handy man.

 

 

It’s after another month, after his birthday had gone by and after he went home from going to his parents' (where he was bombarded with question of why he was alone) when things really started moving, really started progressing.

It’s when he comes out of his car and walks up the stairs to reach his door when he’s greeted by Hoseok who’s crouching on the ground holding a box of donuts Yoongi is sure he got from a shop near his work on his way him. Yoongi drops to one knee, the key to his apartment hooked in his index finger; his right hand reaches for the boy’s cheek.

This is precious, he thinks, has been the only thing he can think of since he was nineteen every time he looks at Hoseok. The only thing that crossed his mind that one afternoon he saw the boy at one of the college rallies and the first thing he can think of whenever his eyes would land at Hoseok. You need to be careful, his mental voice continues to tell him, adding this time. He needs to be more careful this time, a new sort of responsibility blossoming on his chest. Protect him.

Hosoek hesitantly opens his eyes.

Bright eyes meet black.

Piercing sun rays on an open dark room.

Too pure, too warm, too bright.

“Hey,” Hoseok murmurs, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. That’s when Yoongi sees the slight flush spread on his warm cheeks and it seems like he’s been outside for a while. “I’m home.”

“Why didn’t you use your key to get inside?” Yoongi asks, lost for words.

“Because I wanted to meet you immediately when you get home,” Hoseok replies shyly, reaching for Yoongi and hiding his face by the crook of his neck.

“I’m home,” he feels Hoseok’s smile on his skin.

Sometimes he’d wake up from a bad nightmare in the middle of the night with his cheeks pressed on Hoseok’s chest and while he’s still shaken up from the nightmare, he’d feel Hoseok gently his hair until he can breathe easily again. Until they’re curling up in the couch watching the rerun of The Office or whatever Hoseok feels like watching at the moment and Yoongi would listen to the boy murmur the lines of the characters into his ears like he already has it memorized. He probably did.

And Yoongi thinks it’s nice.

It’s nice that even though things haven’t returned to how things used to be, Hoseok can smile at him again. It’s nice that even though sometimes Yoongi still thinks that one day Hoseok is going to regret choosing him, that he’s going to leave him for something greater that the world can give tom him, that Hoseok will soon realize how Yoongi can never offer him anything beside himself because Hoseok deserves everything in the ing world and Yoongi can only give him a stone. It’s nice that even though Yoongi still has doubts on how Hoseok can be contented with this, with what he’s having right now. It’s nice that Hoseok still looks at him like Yoongi has just laid all the stars in front of the boy even after Yoongi asks, “Am I the best choice over everything?”

Hoseok would look at him with those eyes that have always seen through him, that have always made Yoongi feel like Hoseok’s invading too much space from Yoongi even though he’s just looking. He’d reach for the back of Yoongi’s neck to make the older look at him. Or maybe he does that because he knows Yoongi would avoid meeting his eyes. “You are.”

Hoseok has also started helping him at the shop. Taking Namjoon’s place since the boy needs to review for the upcoming bar exam next month.

“Where do I put this?” Yoongi hears Hoseok calling from the stock room at the back, coming out with a huge box on his hand. He chuckles from where he’s sitting, putting off his ear buds and entangling them before putting inside his back pocket.

“Let me help you.”

They’re not exactly fine, Yoongi knows that. They still have to work on a lot of things.

They’re not exactly fine, they both know that.

They’re not exactly fine, but in time, they will be.

What’s happening right now is just as fine.