Taehyung wakes to the sound of cars honking on the street, and people clamouring and shouting. His eyes flutter wearily, as he rolls over and clutches tightly onto the pillow next to him. 

The worn out single mattress creaks when he moves, and the air is cold on his face despite the  thin blanket wrapped tightly around his body. 

He reaches for the phone on the wobbling nightstand, and checks the time through squinted eyes. 11:14am. 

Not bad. Enough time until his shift at 1pm. Taehyung breathes out contently and retreats back into the blanket, luxuriating in the bit of warmth it provides. 

His studio apartment is tiny and chilly even in March. Stained carpet, broken furniture pieces from the back alley and yard sales, and the tiniest kitchen - a cupboard that opens up to reveal a heat plate and a built-in sink. Nothing on the walls, saved for an old poster, of vibrant blue sky and outstretched tree branches filled with white blossoms.

Van Gogh, the consignment store lady told him when he paused to look at the poster, feet frozen in place.

Sometimes, when he's tired and his mind glitches, it feels like the walls of the small room is closing in on him, pushing into his face and suffocating his thoughts. Even the painting would feel a little sinister, all the branches casting a trembling web of shadows on his mind, with the bright blue tinting all the dark jumbled thoughts.

But he knows better now. Taehyung would close his eyes and curl up in bed, settling in with the storm raging in his mind, sometimes popping a pill if he could afford the prescription that month. His fingers would trace the tiny black butterfly tattoo on his wrist, drawing comfort from the slight bump of its outline under the pads of his fingers.

This life he has, it's not much, but already far more than he's ever had. And once in awhile, when the sun is high enough to shine through the small window by the bed, and his mind is blissfully silent, Taehyung allows himself to be just a little proud.

A place to call his own, a real photo ID with an address on it, and a job. He's almost normal. 

By the time he locks up and leaves the apartment building, it's already past noon. He peeks his hand through the denim jacket sleeve, and slides it along the old wooden railing by the staircase, feeling the curve and grains as he walks down. Bright light sheds through the glass door by the front - another unassuming Saturday afternoon in Brooklyn. Taehyung savours the quietness of being alone before work. 

As he steps through the door and closes it behind him, he recognizes a figure seated by the steps, and his body stiffens up. 

The figure turns around, and there's a lazy smile on his face, “took you long enough, the coffee shop said you are probably home.” 

Taehyung eyes Yoongi warily and comments, “isn't this neighbourhood a little below you?” He hurries down the stairs, not giving him another glance. 

Yoongi pipes up behind him, voice flat but each word carrying weight, “something happened to Jimin.”

Taehyung’s heart sinks, and his feet pause. 

“Jungkook won't listen to me. I need you to talk some sense into him.” 

Taehyung blinks hard and turns around, hands gripping on the jacket sleeves, “what happened to Jimin?” 

Yoongi tilts his head and signals the spot beside him on the step. Taehyung frowns with disdain, but reluctantly moves over and take a seat, maintaining space between the two of them. He notices a small black frame in Yoongi’s hand. 

Yoongi pauses for a moment, looking onto the street. Taehyung feels his heart thumping with each passing second. But when Yoongi finally pipes up, it's worse than he expected. 

“There was an accident.” He clears his throats, not looking at him, and continues, “around midnight back in last November, another car t-boned them at the intersection and pushed their car off the road. Jeongguk was at the hospital for a while too, multiple fractures. Jimin…” Yoongi gulps, “he was already unconscious when paramedics got on site. He didn’t make it.”

Taehyung’s breath hitches. Suddenly it all feels so surreal - the conversation, the person sitting next to him, people walking by them casually on the street drenched in lazy afternoon sun. He feels his eyes getting misty, and wishes Yoongi would stop and give him a minute to think it over. But Yoongi continues, voice flat and averting his gaze. 

“Jeongguk took it really hard. I mean, he put up a front just like usual, but it’s like he cut himself off from the rest of us, even more than before.”

Taehyung feels out of breath, there’s a low static sound reverberating in his ears and hollowness in his heart. When he finally gathers himself to speak, his voice trembles, “he’ll deal with it over time. There's no other choice.” 

Yoongi shoots him a sideway glance, “probably. But the thing is, during that time, we were actually working on a nasty case of acquisition.” 

He shifts before continues, his low voice in a trance, “we’ve always avoided those, there's just something unsavoury about breaking up other people's life's work for profit. But it was a request for help from one of our closest investors. There was so much money on the line, both sides got greedy and nasty really fast.”

Yoongi sets the small black frame in his hand to the side, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He grabs one and extends his hand to Taehyung, who takes the pack wordlessly. 

“Jeongguk hired an investigator before he was even out of the hospital. But it was just a hit and run in a huge city, the guy probably took off right away. We found nothing useful.” 

Taehyung’s hand pauses with the cigarette, as a sense of dread overtakes him and makes his stomach turn, “he doesn't think…”

“Yeah.” Yoongi turns to face him, eyes dark and impassive, “he thinks the whole thing was a distraction from the negotiation, or some intimidation tactic. He blames himself, us, for the accident.” 

Taehyung rubs on the frown between his brows. His mind is overwhelmed, muddled and in shock, but he pushes through and keeps his voice even, “what does it matter, Jimin is… he is gone… Blaming himself won’t bring him back…”

Yoongi nods, “right. Although sometimes, death does feel like a cleaner cut. Easier than living with guilt for the rest of your life.”

Yoongi’s hand is perched on his knee, cigarette dangling outward with thin tendrils of smoke rising precariously in the air. There's a glint of sorrow in his eyes, and Taehyung realizes Yoongi looks younger than what he remembers. 

They are both silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Taehyung pipes up again, voice cold, “why did you come find me? What do you think I can do about this, I thought you wanted me gone.

A muted snicker, half in mockery, “so did I.” He turns to face Taehyung, “I'll be honest with you. I still don't like it, maybe never will.”

Taehyung purses his lips in contempt, but listens.

“But I saw this in his study.” Yoongi retracts the small black frame from beside him and hands it to Taehyung. 

The smooth wooden surface of the frame feels polished in his hand. The image on the photo makes his heart tremble - pink cherry blossoms, pale blue sky, his own figure facing away from the camera, head lowered and hair ruffled. 

For a brief second, Taehyung can almost smell the saccharine fragrance of the blooms. He closes his eyes and slumps his shoulders. 

“All you have to do is talk to him, once.” Yoongi speaks up beside him. “I'm worried. He may seem strong to others, but I've known him since we were kids. He's never had a chance at a normal life, always feeling the need to protect everyone around him and take the blame for everything that goes wrong.”

Taehyung sees the concerns in his eyes, as Yoongi’s voice becomes concerned, “I'm tired of seeing him so worn out all the time, damn it. He needs a jolt, someone to shake him out of all the guilt and isolation.”

A self-deprecating grin slowly spreads on Taehyung’s face, “and you think he would listen to me, someone he barely knows? And what if I say no, because I finally have a life of my own and don't feel like backtracking.”

Yoongi takes a puff of the cigarette before responding, “I realized I might've been wrong about you last time, when you came back after leaving. Joonie was right, I judged you too fast because of your age-”

He turns to look at Taehyung, pausing before speaking, voice filled with sincerity, “just talk to him once, please. Jeongguk deserves to be happy too, just like all of us. Try to nudge him a bit, that's all I'm asking, nothing more.”

*****

Taehyung paces in front of the brownstone house, hand fidgeting with the lighter inside his jacket pocket, mindlessly tracing its outline over and over. 

It has taken him another week after seeing Yoongi, to build up the courage to slowly find his way back to the familiar house in Greenwich. 

Taehyung mumbles to himself and feels the cold sweat on his palms, the wind chilly against his face. 

Then, exhaling deeply, Taehyung walks up the steps to the front door, absently counting each one on his mind as he's always done. 

With shaky hands, he presses on the doorbell, musing to himself how it's the first time he's had to do that. Just like a regular guest.

Not his place anymore.

The brief moment of waiting feels like eternity. Taehyung mumbles to himself again, mind scattered with things he’s planned to say, trying hard to curb the looming thoughts that the whole thing is a big mistake. 

. 

As he contemplates leaving, the door opens. And the face that peeks through makes his mind go blank, all the rehearsed lines evaporated in an instance. 

All he sees is the darkness in Jeongguk’s eyes. Hollow and distant. 

Taehyung bites his lip before speaking, “Yoongi said I should talk to you.”

There’s surprise on Jeongguk’s face, and his hand freezes by the door, “it’s...you.”

Taehyung sighs and gestures, “so? Do I get to come in?”

Jeongguk purses his lips but relents. Taehyung steps in and follows his lead, walking past the pristine but lifeless living room, and straight to the kitchen in the back. 

The long marble counter, large industrial overhead lamps, his favourite bar stool next to the one Jeongguk always uses when he works - everything is painfully familiar. But all traces of the life they shared are gone; books and magazines scattered about, jackets hung near the back entrance, random branches he use to collect and place in glass jam jars, all gone. The air is cold, and every surface empty, saved for Jeongguk’s laptop and a few documents piled up on the counter. 

Taehyung finds his way to the armchair by the fireplace, the one he loved for practicing guitar. He sits down and struggles to find the right words.

Jeongguk settles on the couch facing him. When he finally speaks, his voice is deeper than Taehyung remembers, “how are things?”

“Can't complain. Got a place to stay, and a crappy job at a coffee shop.” Taehyung chuckles nervously, pushing the corners of his lips into a grin, “I'm normal now. It's boring.”

“Good.” Jeongguk comments, his shoulders stiff. The weariness in his eyes makes Taehyung soften his own voice. 

“I heard about Jimin.” 

Jeongguk’s gaze turns hard, “what did Yoongi tell you?”

“That it has been really tough on you.” 

His brows are knitted, “he shouldn't have dragged you into this, it's personal.” 

Taehyung purses his lips before speaking, voice a tad raised, “I didn't know Jimin for long but I considered him a friend, I wish you had been the one to tell me, I wish-” there's a lump in his throat, but he twitches his lips and forces the last words out, “I would’ve appreciated a chance to say goodbye…”

Jeongguk’s dark eyes meet his briefly, before lowering his gaze, “nobody got a proper goodbye. Nobody.”

Taehyung frowns and exhales sharply. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, his heart feels cracked open, and all the sorrow is gushing out and making him misty eyed. Then he hears Jeongguk add quietly, “I'm sorry. I know you were close to him.” 

The sincerity of the apology irritates him for some inexplicable reason, so does the image of Jeongguk with his head lowered and back stubbornly stiff.

Taehyung blinks the tears away and finds his hands curling up under the jacket sleeve. He utters the words on his mind hastily, “it's not your fault. Don't hurt yourself out of guilt, it won't bring him back.” 

The words fall but Jeongguk is unaffected, head sunk low, arms crossed, retracting into himself. Taehyung hears him murmur, “if only I didn't call him that night, he'd still be here, still with us…”

The sorrow in his voice calls to him, and Taehyung finds himself getting up and sitting down next to Jeongguk, arm wrapping around his back gently. He realizes words no long reach him, when guilt is self inflicted and cuts deep within. So he reaches his hand out instead and pats him on the back slowly, in small reassuring . 

Jeongguk turns to look at him with wounded eyes. His whole body is tense, and face pale, the crinkles around his eyes deeper and no longer tinted with kindness. 

As if something has finally breached from within Jeongguk, he continues to talk, faster than usual, voice deep and filled with pain, “he didn't even get to say his last words. I tried to pull him out of the car, tried for so long...” His words come out hissing, like the low growl of a wounded animal, as he stares back into his clenched fists, “Solar said at the funeral that she wished he had more time, time to himself, time to his family. She was right.”

Taehyung feels powerless, clutching onto Jeongguk who's drowning in sorrow and shutting the the world out. All he can do is listen, and take in all the pain along his side quietly. 

“You know, I've never even been to his house. Never got to see him outside of work. He was the only person I saw almost every day for eight years, yet every time he invited me over, I always declined thinking maybe next time, there's plenty of time…” Jeongguk's voice turns quieter, trailing off and lost in memories. 

Taehyung leans into him, his tears soaking into Jeongguk’s tee. It feels cathartic to finally let the salty drops gush out freely. He cries for himself, for Jeongguk who struggles to let it all out, and for the one that only exists in their memories now. 

They stay together in silence, finding solace in the presence of each other. Until Jeongguk speaks again, “I'm sorry for everything before. I didn't mean to mess it all up with you, I'm no good with feelings or words.” 

Taehyung feels his throat dry as he responds, “it’s ok, everything will be ok.”

Tell me what you need, tell me what to do to make this all go away. Please, anything. 

Jeongguk whispers quietly beside him, “if I ask you to stay around for a bit, would you consider it?”

There's a glint of vulnerability in Jeongguk’s eyes, as he lays his heart open with all its wounds raw and exposed. And Taehyung finds himself lost in those dark orbs, falling and drowning, knowing fully well that he never had a chance to escape. 

As he leans in to kiss Jeongguk, Taehyung finally understands why he came back, pulling himself out of his new found life, backtracking to this house, at the mercy of this man that’s always controlled his heart. 

He came back to surrender, to give himself up willingly, the moment he heard Jeongguk was in trouble. No matter how hard he tries to run away, his little life without him can never compete with the tug Jeongguk has on his heart. 

Jeongguk pauses out of surprise, but when he recovers, there's no turning back. He chases Taehyung's lips and pours all his unspoken anguish into the kiss, like a drowning soul desperately grasping onto the last shred of hope. 

His hands cup Taehyung’s tear stained face, torso crashing into his slender frame. His tongue swirls through his parted lips, searching and seeking. 

Taehyung slumped back onto the couch with hitched breath. The weight of Jeongguk’s body straddling on top makes his thoughts hazy. He tangles his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, grasping and deepening into the kiss, as a stuttering moan escapes his throat. 

Jeongguk’s lips trail the outline of Taehyung’s jaw, his tongue down the column of his neck, breath ghosting his skin and making him shiver. 

When Jeongguk’s hips into his, the pressure of his hard member pushes a sharp whimper out of Taehyung. He flushes when Jeongguk pauses to look at him, eyes blazed but concerned, “you ok? Want me to stop?” Jeongguk’s face turns somber as a realization creeps onto his mind, “what am I doing, this is way too fast for you-”

“No no,” Taehyung embraces him with both arms and responds breathily, “I'm fine, I want this. I just get…” he blushes and bites his lower lip, making it a shader brighter, “kinda noisy.” 

A soft smile spreads on Jeongguk’s face, for the first time since Taehyung has seen him again. The hollowness in his eyes is finally lifted, and Taehyung breathes a long satisfying sigh, and nuzzles his face against Jeongguk’s arm shyly, “I've wanted this for a long time. I want you, so much…” 

He feels the delicious weight of Jeongguk's torso again, as he lowers down and brush their lips together tenderly. Taehyung’s heart aches when Jeongguk whispers into the kiss, “miss you, always missed you.”

Jeongguk's hands are all over his body now, pulling on his shirt and rucking it up. His face is buried in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, hot breath hitting Taehyung’s skin and drawing muted moans out of him. 

Taehyung feels the heat pooling in his abdomen, and tugs at Jeongguk’s white tee pleadingly, “wanna see you.” 

Jeongguk glances at him with half lidded eyes and complies, pulling the tee off with one fluid move. Taehyung gasps quietly as his hands press into Jeongguk’s firm chest, fingers brushing past his exposed s slowly. 

Jeongguk trails kisses along his face and rasps, “your turn.” His fingers make way to Taehyung’s dress shirt and, before he has the chance to notice the flash of hesitation in Taehyung’s eyes, s it at the top. 

His fingers slow down as the shirt opens up to reveal Taehyung’s torso. Jeongguk’s face turns somber and his hands pause. The scars and marks have almost all faded on Taehyung’s taut skin, but they still stand out,  glaringly, like a map to his past that he tries to hide under oversized clothes. 

Taehyung worries his lip between his teeth in a nervous tic, and waits for the glint of sympathy in Jeongguk’s eyes. It never comes, instead, he finds something resembling low simmering anger. Anger at all the untold stories that have marked him up scar by scar, bruise over bruise. 

Taehyung blinks and reaches for him, voice broken and deflated, “I'm ok, it's fine. Here, we don't have to…” he reaches for his shirt clumsily and tries to button it back up with shaky hands. 

Jeongguk grips his wrist gently and makes him pause. A long sigh escapes him, and he brings Taehyung’s hand to his lips, kissing the palm tenderly. When he looks down at Taehyung again, it's as if he's made up his mind, eyes shining with resolve.

“It's all in the past now.” 

His words carry a quiet strength with them, and he dips down to graze his lips by a scar, kissing it softly, drawing a content hum out of Taehyung. 

Then another, and another. Jeongguk kisses the marks on Taehyung’s half exposed chest. The heat of his lips spreads on Taehyung’s skin and comforts him in ways he cannot describe. He closes his eyes and feels the warm tingle spread through his body, as he arches his hips into Jeongguk. 

He feels Jeongguk grinding back from on top of him, and pulls Taehyung’s hand towards his face again. His eyes rest on the small black butterfly tattoo on Taehyung's slender wrist, peeking out of the shirt sleeve. This time, his lips press into the outline of the tattoo without hesitation. Taehyung finds himself gazing into him, unable to look away. 

Jeongguk's mouth follows the inside of Taehyung’s arm and dips into his collarbone, before slowly returning to meet Taehyung’s lips that are now red and moist from all his nervous biting. 

The kiss is languidly, Jeongguk taking his time and sinking into it slowly, hands cupping Taehyung’s cheeks.

When they finally part, both are silent for a moment. Finally Jeongguk careful sweeps a strand of hair away from Taehyung’s face, “glad you came back.”

Taehyung feels his heart swell up with joy, and leans in and stutters, “it's my fault, I couldn't - I was wrong. If you need time, if you are not sure of thing-” he rambles but lets the words gush out, trying hard to let his thoughts be heard, “-I'll wait for you. I don't need much, I can wait, just want to be around, to be together somehow…”

His trembling lips are met with his, and the kiss is firm and full of assurance and comfort. Jeongguk’s body curls in, and the heat of his skin radiates through and warms him up, “you’re fine. I'm the one that's no good with words.” Jeongguk pulls him up and embraces him with both arms, eyes gazing into his, and speaks carefully, “never been good at relationships, but I promise, as long as you’re with me, I'll try my best, ok?” 

Taehyung nods and cuddles into his chest, as Jeongguk continues, “you did have a home. And it felt so empty when you were gone, I was stupid to think I could go on without you.”

They sit in content silence, as Jeongguk tangles his fingers through Taehyung’s hair absently. It all feels so sudden, but so very right, as if this spot next to Jeongguk is where he's always belonged. Taehyung reaches to touch his skin and feel the thumping of his heart, and exhales slowly. 

Whatever tomorrow brings, it would all be worth it, if just for this one moment together. 

He looks up and touches Jeongguk’s lips lightly with one finger, “have I ever been inside your bedroom before?” 

Jeongguk kisses it with parted mouth, the tip of his tongue grazing his finger, “are you inviting yourself up?” 

Taehyung giggles, “maybe, not done with you yet.

Jeongguk responds with a smirk, earning a jab from Taehyung. He tightens his arms around Taehyung and comments, “jump on.” 

“What-” Taehyung looks up quizzically and yelps when he feels Jeongguk standing up and arranging his legs around his waist. He grasps onto Jeongguk’s neck and holds on tight, “ok guess we are going like this.”

Jeongguk’s hands are on his back, supporting him and pushing him up, Taehyung can feel the heat of his breath as he murmurs into him, “and it's not my bedroom any more. Ours.” 

*****

Moments later, after they are both spent, Taehyung finds himself worn out and tangled up in the wrinkled bed sheet, face leaning into Jeongguk’s chest. As drowsiness creeps up and his lids droop, he hears Jeongguk’s voice beside him, quiet and barely a whisper, “been such a long winter this year.”

Taehyung hums, eyelashes fluttering. 

“If you could live anywhere else, where would it be?” Jeongguk’s voice is calm and soothing, seeping into his subconscious, making him feel relaxed and finally at peace.

"Anywhere you will be..."

"And?" Jeongguk's voice nudges him gently.

Taehyung mumbles before succumbing to the weariness and drifting off.

“Hmm. Somewhere warm and happy, by the sea.”