It is the year 2818 in Korea.

The unification surprisingly, was not the most unexpected thing to have occurred in the past 50 years.

Genetic modification by far, had taken the biggest, fattest slice of the cake selfishly.

Which isn’t really a bad thing, since that only means cures for cancer and AIDS- which they did find by the way, at the end of 2618- as well as highly promising vaccines that protected against viruses that weren’t even present in the ecosystem yet. But most importantly, the successful manipulation of the genetic code to produce the best child possible from both parent’s DNA, guaranteed with a 99% cashback on insurance if somehow it failed, because that was just how damn, bloody good the system was.

The only minor issue here, is that Taehyung isn’t part of that system.

Because while scientific development and genetic modification brought about a new wave where mankind could see the future within their grasp, it also brought about a new classification system, where your genetic makeup now acted as a status marker in society and decided if you were valid or invalid, natural or unnaturally born into the world.

You’d be surprised to find that ‘natural’ birth, no longer acceded primarily to ion that budded out of romance, but instead a fusion that took place on a highly sterilized petri dish.

Taehyung knows he was, at least for the younger part of his childhood, unable to negotiate with the consequences he suffered due to his parents’ decision to opt out of genetic manipulation.

It is the year 2818. Taehyung thinks it’s safe to say a lot has changed, for better or for worse, he’s not the best person to tell. Not when science is booming around him like new life created every passing second, yet his legs still don’t work, and he can’t go another day without his wheelchair.

Not like that’s the most depressing thing to happen to him ever, since it puts him out of the only field he’s able to see himself in, crushing his dreams of ever going to space anyway.

He reminds himself there’s still horribly scripted reality programs that play almost every day instead of the usual every weekend, but now on a much flatter, wider, holographic screen that takes up nearly half the space in his room.

It’s as if they only focused on the upgrading of technology and left out the content of what these things put out.

Oh- and then there’s death.

The one thing left on earth that mankind has not managed to fully grasp within their hands and prevent.

Taehyung thinks it’s a good thing, because at the end of the day, valid or invalid, everyone still has to die. It makes the playing grounds a little more even, since it’s really the only way he can consider himself as their equals.

But for now- the wheels squeak when he moves forward too quickly, and he hates the ing sound of it- he wants to believe that someday, he’s going to find his equality, rightfully, deservingly, in some way other than death.

>

“You’ll get a new name, new fingerprint, new stats and all that . In exchange, you have to give up your own identity. You’ll be living someone else’s life, that still okay for you?”

It’s not, it’s not ing okay, how can you say all that with a straight face-

“Yeah, it’s what I always wanted.”

No, going to space is. Being an astronaut is. Have you lost your dreams?

He’s biting on his lips, trying not to cry before he knows it. Yoongi throws him a funny look.

“It’s the only way.”

He doesn’t know if it’s meant more for himself or the man he's contacted that's going to help him reach his goal by all means, illegal or not. Either way, it’s not like he can take back whatever he’s said, which Yoongi seems to agree, sealing the deal with his signature on the form the minute he’s sensed a flicker of hesitation.

“Sign your name then.”

Taehyung receives the paper shakily in his hands and reaches for the pen.

One, two- he presses down.

The ink bleeds, forming a puddle of blue on the surface and he stares at it like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

Yoongi grumbles from the side.

“I only have one copy of this.”

A pause. His hands tremble. Another groan.

He nearly drops the pen in creeping anxiety when he thinks he feels his leg twitch.

Yoongi’s bright smile is obvious, even as his eyes are focused on the paper, hand moving vividly as the pen splatters blue and something like illegally wrong all over the page, only stopping when it spells his name, rushed and messy on the dotted line.

He belatedly realizes this would be the last time he’s seeing this name.

The paper slips from his loosened grip, landing with a click inside Yoongi’s briefcase the moment he scans the form and finds no discrepancies.

Yoongi stands, sparing him a brief glance and for a moment, Taehyung finds himself doubting his decision, until-

“Well congratulations, you’re no longer Kim Taehyung from this point on.”

>

It takes 5 months before he can fully get out of bed, though his feet still hover above the floor when it’s time to test if the operation was successful.

Blood rushes to his ears the longer he delays, feeling his feet and the floor act like opposing side of a magnet. He hears Yoongi sigh.

“The floor is not lava.” (I’m sorry I had to lmao)

A shaky exhale. “I know.”

His throat has never felt drier, and he doesn’t know if he should keep swallowing, though it’s not like he can stop anyway.

“It’s all in your mind, buddy. You think they won’t work because you just haven’t used them before.”

Something about that sentence cuts like a steel knife across his heart.

He can’t deny Yoongi’s wrong either way, he’s already come so far and not even a little bit of blood pouring out of the wound will stop him now.

>

Kim Wonchul.

It’s got a nice ring to it, he has to admit.

Plus, it’s got valid written all over it, so there’s really nothing much he should be complaining about, except for the fact that he hasn’t fully gotten used to it yet.

“Wonchul!” Yoongi yells from the workroom.

There’s a beat of stale silence, before he’s gulping, then immediately rushing out-

“Y-Yeah?”

But it’s too late. Yoongi storms into the living room with a disapproving look on his face.

“This isn’t going to work if you can’t even remember your name,” he shakes his head.

Taehyung shies away from his stern gaze. “Sorry.”

“I don’t need apologies, I just need you to start taking this seriously. Do you know how much I invested on you?”

“I-I know, I’m sorry-”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

A defeated pause. “I’ll try my best.”

“Well you can start by practicing your signature again.” Yoongi dumps a stack of paper onto the desk. “None of these look like they were signed by a left hander.”

>

He gets the job.

Yoongi doesn’t believe him at first when he announces the good news, unmoving from where he’s laying sprawled across the reclining chair sluggishly, until Taehyung shoves the confirmation letter in his face.

“You- you actually got it,” he exhales, coming out more of a gasp than anything else before turning to Taehyung, who’s already pouring himself a drink for a double confirmation.

“I did, and guess what, the interview didn’t even last five minutes.”

Yoongi snorts, but a proud smile pulls across his face anyway. “I told you, your genetic makeup is all they look at.”

Taehyung just smiles, taking a sip of his drink.

If this was two months ago, he wouldn’t have comfortably claimed somebody’s identity as his own without a twitch of an eye.

Now, he doesn’t refute, doesn’t show discomfort or uneasiness, as if this was rightfully his from the beginning. Yoongi must have realized as well, because he’s walking forward with an unreadable smile, before clinking their glasses together.

“We need to get drunk immediately.”

Taehyung tries to smile like he used to, but watching Yoongi’s expression, he knows it must come out more disappointed than excited.

>

“This is Park Chaeyoung. She’s assisting with the space program so it’ll be good for you to work with her. It’ll help get you on track faster.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Dark brown hair, a fitted skirt suit and kitten heels is what he comes to make of Park Chaeyoung.

Oh, she’s also very, very pretty, but of course, he doesn’t tell her that.

“Is this your first time being in charge?” he asks once the director leaves them alone, curious but also just wants to start a conversation.

She spares him a brief glance before returning to her report. “No.”

His smile falters, but he doesn’t give up.

“Have you ever been on one of these?”

A short pause. He thinks he sees her jaw clench, before- “no.”

He clears his throat awkwardly. Maybe Park Chaeyoung isn’t as friendly as he assumed she’d be.

“Don’t you want to? I mean, haven’t you dreamt of going to space-”

“You ask too many questions, Mr Kim,” she snaps.

And you answer too few, he wants to shut her up with, but he holds his tongue and tries his best to plaster a smile instead.

“I believe I was asked to look for you regarding anything I was unclear on.”

She halts abruptly, turning to face him. He realizes it’s the first time she’s looking at him properly.

“Everything you need to know is in that folder of yours. Nothing less, nothing more. Is that clear enough, Mr Kim?”

Taehyung bites back a snarl.

“Crystal, Miss Park,” he sings, and gets the brief satisfaction of watching her eyebrow twitch.

>

Her cheeks are rosy, flushed with a certain indignance as she concentrates on her computer, the stack of new reports to be filed blocking the bottom half of her face from where he’s watching.

In the span of the four months he’s been here, he’s come to realize how genetic modification although hands out capability as though it were a buffet, not everyone knows how to use it to their full potential like she does.

Her efficiency is surprising, her capability outshining nearly most of her colleagues next to her desk and yet she never gets selected to go on a mission, she only plans them.

It perplexes him because he knows the director must see how she overperforms herself, so it comes to him in a sense of confusion when he doesn’t hear her name being read from the list of pilots chosen for the next launch.

She does get chosen to do more work however, accepting the remaining incomplete cases from her neighbouring colleagues that somehow managed to get onto the list.

Which also means more chances for the males around her to start up a conversation on the pretence of extending a helping hand.

Park Jimin is one of them.

Taehyung has nothing against the guy really, despite him being one of the selected, best well-performing pilots out of their lot, except something strikes a wrong nerve within him when Park Jimin leans stubbornly over her desk even after the second rejection, pushing her to go on a date before he leaves for Saturn the next week.

“Jimin,” he hears her sigh tiredly.

His eyelid twitches at how they’re on a first name basis, unlike-

He stops himself before he can go any further, eyes darting back to his computer screen.

“This is the third time you’re asking me and to be honest, I’m getting tired of telling you no.”

“Well, you could always say yes? Come on, I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

Taehyung tells himself it’s because of the persistent cloying of Jimin’s voice distracting him from typing that he speaks up.

“Funny, I thought I heard you tell your girlfriend you’d be gone for three.”

Jimin shoots him a glare from where he’s standing, and Taehyung swears his hair would’ve been on fire by now if looks could actually burn.

“Stay out of this, Kim.”

Taehyung pulls on a shocked expression. “Sorry, I just thought I’d correct you. Little mistakes go a long way, you know- I’m sorry, I’ll be getting back to my work now.”

“Please do.” He thinks he hears Jimin growl as he turns back around.

 Satisfied, he returns his focus to his screen and misses the small, amused smile on Chaeyoung’s face as a result.

>

His lunch break is at 1, roughly the same time the company sends their routine fourth launch up into space.

He looks up at the clear sky through the ceiling windows at 12:55pm, waiting for people to start leaving their desks before moving quickly to the rooftop.

“Don’t you ever get tired of looking up?”

He sweeps his gaze in the direction of the intrusive voice, blinking in surprise as she takes another step closer. Her eyes are fixed to the sky, just like how his were merely three seconds ago.

He studies her briefly, catching the afternoon sun’s rays glide across her skin smoothly.

“Don’t you?” he returns the question.

The ends of her lips curl up gently.

Somehow, Taehyung doesn’t think it’s a happy smile, even though he can’t deny how stunning she looks with the light bouncing off her cheeks.

“I wish I did.”

It barely makes it out of her lips, as soft as a light summer breeze, but he catches it timely, before the roaring of the engine fills the peaceful silence a second later.

She drops her gaze finally, and Taehyung’s surprised at the huge difference in her expression compared to when she looked at the sky and then the ground below their feet.

“Why?” he can’t stop himself from asking.

“Because I will never get the chance to be up there.”

He frowns in confusion. “What do you mean? You’re just like one of us, you’ll definitely get your chance.”

She gives him a small smile. “No, I wasn’t lucky enough like the rest of you.”

He watches her, unknowingly holding his breath as he waits for an explanation.

“A 90% risk of heart failure, that’s what I think the report said.”

Taehyung stares at her like the revelation is impossible to believe.

“The closest I’ll get to the sun is by looking at it from here.”

He takes a slow, few seconds to gather his thoughts. When he’s ready, he tilts his gaze to the sky, instead of looking at her.

“Well, it’s the sun’s loss, I guess,” he says softly, hoping it’s reassuring at the least.

She doesn’t respond, but from the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees fall open slightly. A satisfied grin curls along his lips as he observes a small smile of her own.

“Mr-” she hesitates, and he looks down curiously. “Can I call you Wonchul?”

He freezes for a second. No, call me Taehyung, it nearly slips from his lips.

“Of course. Can I call you Chaeyoung then?”

She bites her bottom lip lightly. “If you’d like.”

“Chaeyoung,” he calls immediately, liking the way it rolls nicely against his tongue. Her smile grows until it’s too wide for her teeth to contain.

“Yes?”

“As far as I’m concerned, I can’t see anything wrong with you from where I’m standing.”

Her eyes soften, and Taehyung wants to walk closer, just so he can count the lashes on her lids.

“And I don’t think you should either.”

“What I’m lacking,” she pauses, then reaches into her bun, fingers tightening around a strand of hair before pulling. She holds it out for him to take.

“Can’t be seen from the outside.”

He lets his hands brush against hers as he plucks the single brown strand away, looking nearly insignificant between his large fingers.

“If you’re still interested after that, let me know.”

A smile crawls across her lips again, but this time, he hates how empty it looks.

He’s decided even before she handed her hair to him. A genetic coding test doesn’t show anything except alphabets, and if he was wrong, then he wouldn’t be standing right here today.

The wind blows in their direction, and he raises his hand, loosening the grip in his fingers.

Her eyes trace the movement, until the wind stops and the strand sinks to the ground behind him, as though attached to a weight.

Slightly confused, she turns back for an explanation.

Taehyung merely smiles, whistling.

“Sorry, the wind must have caught it.”

>

“How’s work?” Yoongi asks.

Better than expected, considering he’s gotten a promotion in just two months, though he’s pretty sure it’s due to coming in second for the overall fitness test in his batch.

Also, he might be included on the list of astronauts going to titan this coming launch.

Taehyung tries to contain himself from squealing in excitement and replies, “Good.”

Behind him, he hears Yoongi snicker.

“Have you made any friends?”

His mind drifts to Chaeyoung. Can he consider himself her friend?

For now, maybe. In the future? He knows he’s possibly going to want more.

“Yeah, a few.”

“I thought you’d be good at lying by now,” Yoongi shakes his head, a fleeting smile thrown in his direction. Taehyung tries not to dwell on the possible hidden connotations behind his words.

“Let’s go out?” Yoongi suggests, though he’s already grabbing the car keys to toss at Taehyung.

They reach a cosy bar, stacked right at the twentieth story and Taehyung practically smells expensive reeking from the plush carpets underneath his shoes, the velvet curtains separating one table from another and he supposes it fits the image to a T when he catches the name of the bar hanging from the neon lighted sign above the stage.

His eyes drift down and he nearly forgets to breathe when he processes the familiar figure that's been on his mind half the time ever since he got off work. 

A glass of wine in her hand, Taehyung thinks she looks too beautiful to be sitting all by herself, so he walks over with his own, makes his presence known like a perfect gentleman before settling down into the empty seat across her, catching the way her eyes twinkle in interest as she plays with the stand of her wine glass.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” she starts, playful eyes regarding him intently.

He takes a drink from his glass before answering. “Why not?”

She reaches for her own glass, taking her time to savour the taste as he watches. When she sets it down again, Taehyung isn’t sure where his eyes should focus- at the slight stain of wine on the crevices of her lips or the lipstick mark imprinted on the rim of her glass.

“You always seem to be lost in space,” she smiles, teasing.

He likes the way she plays with words, he wants to tell her. He also wants to let her know that she’s absolutely right, because there wasn’t anywhere else he could get lost in, earth had decided that for him even before he was born. Unnaturally.

He wonders what she’d think if he told her that.

“Just like you?” he says instead, with a smile that hides more behind this mask of flirtation.

She seems to lose her train of thought for a moment, as if not prepared for her accusation to bounce back on her. He doesn’t want to jump into over thinking, but his lips lift a little more at the thought that they had more in common than he expected.

Her lips purse and she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly.

“You’re good at this.”

He doesn’t know which one she’s talking about exactly- changing the subject or flirting- but he accepts the compliment with grace anyway.

“Thank you.”

She can hear the victory in his voice even though she’s not looking at him directly.

“I’ve always wanted to ask, why the interest in space?”

“Why not?”

She gives him a glance that lets him know she’s not letting him escape this one.

“Don’t know. Maybe because it has more to offer.” He takes another gulp of his wine, leaving it at that.

He doesn’t expect her to dwell comfortably in the spaces of ambiguity.

“How would you know if it even has anything to offer?” she shoots back, a tiny lift in her pitch letting him know she wasn’t being disapproving at all, just curious.

He thinks he can live with curious for now, as long as he’s the one giving her the answers.

“That’s why I’m going, aren’t I?”

>

Chaeyoung is playful, teasing and great at push and pull in bed. Totally different from the stern manner she has at work.

She tells him with a sly smile as she kisses down his stomach that this, isn’t work.

He smiles back and lets her pull down his slacks, waiting patiently for her to climb up his body despite his hands itching to tug her face close to his.

He can smell the wine in her breath, cabernet sauvignon she whispers against his lips when he asks. He tells her he’ll order that the next time they go back.

She giggles into his mouth and he concludes he doesn’t mind drowning in the taste of lipstick and red wine if it always felt this good.

What makes you think there’ll be a next time, she asks, the same time her eyes trail down his half-ed shirt. She had gotten her hands on it the minute they entered the cab, and his hands had slapped themselves straight to her thigh.

Though he hadn’t gone far enough because of her tight dress and the basic courtesy he retained despite being inebriated to not flash her in front of their cab driver.

He knows deep down inside it’s just an excuse for his selfishness, to keep all of her to his own eyes.

Oh, there’ll be more than just one next time, he replies smoothly, raising his chin so he can kiss her heavy on the lips.

She melts into him almost immediately and he takes the chance to trail large hands over the exposed skin of her thighs, the lower part of her dress being shoved up to her waist because he was too impatient to get the damn thing off once they entered his apartment.

He thinks it’s a good look on her, despite how the fabric is messy and bunched up under her chest, liking the way she appears fondled up and desperate all because of him.

But she seems to have different ideas, rising to her knees as she sits above his crotch before pulling the dress over her head. Taehyung doesn’t complain either way, not when she looks exquisitely inviting in a dark green lingerie set, teasing his arousal with a slim roll of her hips.

Her smile darkens as his eyes graze over her flesh, taking the time to enjoy the way she moves on top of him. He’d always been living on the edge ever since he got his new identity, he thinks he never got the chance to experience fully what it had to offer, at least not till now. She makes him lose his sense of time, makes him want to take things slow and unhurried because there doesn’t seem to be a better way to appreciate her.

So he slides warm hands against her slender frame, curving briefly around her waist to feel the skin there before pulling her down to his chest.

She hums lightly when he kisses her again, pressing gentle touches into the shape of her lips as her fingers work against the remaining buttons on his shirt.

She barely gets the thing off when he flips her around, hands pressing on each side of her head to support his weight while his eyes wander down to her. She looks like a slice of perfection laying against his pillows and bathing under the faint moonlight, he cannot bring his mind around the fact that she thinks she’s less than it.

He must look somewhat enchanted gazing down because it makes a pretty, watercolour hue of red splash across her cheeks, despite her bravely trying to keep up the eye contact.

“If you’re going to stare, you might as well look up at the moon.”

She’s being playful, even though he’s already seen through her act. But he decides he’ll play along for now, withholding how he wants to tell her she’s wrong, because when she’s not looking, he stares at her more than he stares at the sky.

“I don't see the point when you're just as radiant,” he whispers challengingly, seeing her eyes widen briefly and the flush on her face turning a solid intensity.

“Are we going to do this, or what?” she avoids answering him and he chuckles, before dipping down to kiss her on the cheek, feeling the heat of her skin transfer onto his lips.

“We will,” he murmurs, breath hot and embodying the tones of a promise.

She merely smiles, and when he slants his mouth across hers again, he thinks he hears a soft, but affirmative good in the reply she satisfyingly kisses back into his lips.

>

The pilots from the Saturn launch return the following week.

It’s not Park Jimin this time that he finds hovering around her desk, though he prefers it’d be the smaller, shorter blonde because Jeon Jeongguk’s figure just looks downright intimidating even when he’s only showing his back.

He overhears a small part of the conversation, but the gist always ends up being the same- taking her out for dinner because she’d so kindly helped to clear his work while he was away in space.

Taehyung wonders when he’d also have the chance to say such things to her.

The upcoming titan launch stares at him from his computer screen and he tells himself soon, very soon.

Except he’d finish all his work before he left, leaving nothing but a promise that he’d return just to buy her dinner.

He smiles at the thought and briefly forgets about the discussion going on behind him until-

“I’m sorry, Jeongguk. But Wonchul’s taking me out tonight, right?”

“What?” he spins around when he hears his name.

Jeongguk throws him a dirty look. “You are?”

Chaeyoung’s eyes scream frantic and anxious behind Jeongguk and he swallows the fleeting fear he has before replying.

“Yeah, I am.”

Jeongguk turns back around, ignoring what he heard. “Well, how about next Friday?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue in irritation. This guy sure didn’t know when to give up.

He intercepts before Chaeyoung, who looks like she’s going to undergo another breakdown can speak.

“Actually, she won’t be free next week, the next month, or any of the following months to come.”

Jeongguk a disapproving eyebrow at him. “What, are you dating her?”

He’s surprised that the firm yes doesn’t escape from his mouth first.

Chaeyoung gathers up her belongings into her bag, before standing and placing herself between the two men. Taehyung gets secretly happy when he sees how she moves a little closer to him.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a dinner date to get to.”

She hooks an arm around him before he can get a word out, tugging him away from Jeongguk who looks extremely disbelieving and offended at the rejection.

Taehyung nearly lets out an amused laugh until Jeongguk decides he has to get the last word in to retain some of his pride.

“At least pick someone who’s been on a launch before, not someone who only gets to watch it,” he scoffs loudly.

Taehyung feels his jaw clench.

The urge to whip around and send a punch to Jeongguk’s face comes up more than ever and Chaeyoung seems to sense that, the grip on his arm tightening before she drags him away as though neither of them had heard the comment.

“Thanks for saving me,” she tells him once they’ve exited the building.  

He tries not to show how affected he still is by the remark, forcing on a smile that even she can tell isn’t genuine.

“Anytime.”

“Shall we head to dinner now?” she interjects quickly before he can dislodge his arm from hers.

She’s staring up at him with clear, hopeful eyes and he can’t find it in himself to reject her, feeling the anger subside slightly when he watches how her face lights up at his reply.

Somehow, they manage to find themselves at the same expensive bar again. Taehyung orders what she’d told him the last time she was in his bed, not missing the satisfied smirk that breezes across her lips when she hears it. He’s expecting her to order the same thing but is surprised when she asks for the waiter’s recommendation.

“Doesn’t hurt to try something new,” is her only explanation, before she shoots him a mysterious smile that he can’t seem to figure out as she takes a sip out of her glass.

Later, he finds out when she’s underneath him on his bed, that she’d only drink that particular wine when she was feeling lonely.

His response comes in the form of butterfly kisses down her neck, before finally pressing against her lips gently, whispering that he wouldn’t order the same wine again.

>

Chaeyoung is many things, he decides after spending nearly every weekend curled up behind her in his sheets. Though if he was to narrow it down to one, she’d have to be a curiosity he never got tired of answering.

“What’s this?”

Taehyung looks to his left, where she’s standing just in his crisp, white button up, his celestial navigation book in her hands and hair slightly messy from being tugged on too much last night.

It wipes an instant coat of satisfaction across his face and he can’t say it’s not a sight he wants to be waking up to every morning.

“It’s a book,” he teases, enjoying the pout of her lips and once more, when he pats the empty space on the bed and she climbs into it obligingly.

“What’s it about?”

Her fingers graze his accidentally when she leans closer as he opens the book, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his own over hers. She links them together without a word, eyes trained on the page in front of her and he watches with overflowing adoration, trying his best to contain a smile.

“It teaches you how to use celestial bodies like the sun, the moon, the stars to navigate if you get lost,” he explains finally when he’s done staring at the side of her face.

She tilts her head, confused. “But we have GPS, so why would you use this?”

She wouldn’t understand if he told her he hated their society’s reliance on technology, she wouldn’t understand the reason because she was never excluded from the system, never forced to find other ways to survive within something that was designed to work against her body from the beginning.

“Yeah, it was something I just picked out for fun. I’ll throw it away.”

She wraps a covered hand around his wrist before he can get off the bed.

“Don’t, it seems interesting. I want to know more.”

It catches him in surprise, but he fixes his expression before she can see and slides back into the covers, where she’s warm and waiting for him to mould her into his chest again.

(They end up spending the entire afternoon going through half the book in his bed, where after she falls asleep against his chest, he decides he’ll tell her the exact reason why one day.)

>

It happens when he least expects it.

He’s careful on a daily basis, especially having Yoongi around to remind him always but it’s hard to stay that way when Chaeyoung’s around and he willingly lets his defences drop because she was the last person he’d think of being a threat to the exposing of his true identity.

Yoongi’s not home and they sleep in, until the afternoon sun is bright enough to scorch them through the half-drawn blinds that he untangles himself from her arms, sliding out under the sheets to draw them fully shut.

Chaeyoung stirs awake behind him, grumbling incoherently and he turns, aborting his mission abruptly so he can press a kiss to her cheek.

She’s still blinking the sleep out of her eyes when he pulls back, a fat grin on his face lingering until it comes to him that he’s only in his boxers. His heart drops the same moment her gaze flutters down to his legs and he dives back into bed so quickly the entire frame shakes.

At this point, he’d be lying to himself if he thought she didn’t see it.

It took merely a second, but it was enough, the way her eyes had widened a glimmer of a fraction at the obvious operation scars on both his knees had told him more than he needed to know.

Surgery wasn’t common with the introduction of the genetic programme, so a scar that big and wide had only meant one thing- you weren’t born perfect.

Neither of them say anything for a while, he knows he’s not going to anyway because the ball had been out of his court the minute he slipped up so he falls back on waiting for a sign, a hint of shock, maybe even disgust at the foolery he’s taken her on this entire time.

He’s waiting for the second she pushes him away.

The sheets clench beneath his fingers as he catches her eyes dance away from his covered knee.

“Shall we get breakfast?”

Her voice is soft, but it doesn’t mean he misses the uncertainty and shakiness trembling from the words directed to him.

He’s appalled, but he waits again, thinking it must be some kind of mistake, a defence mechanism whipped out to cushion against the temporary shock of the situation that she’d eventually get over once enough time had passed.

It doesn’t come.

“I was thinking eggs and toast. How about you?” she asks, smiling brightly at him even though her pupils quiver in the sunlight.

His grip tightens around the sheets so it distracts him from reaching out and swiping at the faintest trace of dew gathering in the corners of her eyes.

It must be the blinding afternoon sun, he concludes, feeling his own eyes water after hers.

“Eggs and toast sounds good.”

>

They don’t talk about it. It’s as if the incident never happened.

But the way they tread carefully around each other as though the radius surrounding them was lined with eggshells, is enough proof that one wrong step would lead to a confrontation neither of them want to or know how to deal with.

He’s not paying attention to the mission briefing at this point, mind elsewhere though it’s not wrapped around space and his loyal goal to reach it like usual.

For the first time, he’s not so sure if going to space still remains the one thing he desires the most.

Three knocks against the wooden desk commands his attention.

“Wonchul? Are you listening?”

The room goes completely still at the director’s question. Taehyung swallows. He knows there’s no point in lying, not when he’s being called out so blatantly, even the colleague next to him refuses to help him out.

“Sorry. I am now.”

The director narrows his eyes at him, a stern frown forging its way across his forehead.

“I cannot afford a distracted pilot on the mission. Keep that in mind.”

He takes a second to reorganize himself before answering. “Yes, Sir.”

He breathes a small sigh of relief when the director takes his eyes off him and back to the room full of pilots and programme planners.

“I hope you all are prepared for the upcoming fitness examination. The results will determine the batch of pilots we’re sending up there, so be on your best performance. There will be no tolerance for second best.”

Taehyung absorbs his words only partially.

In terms of preparation, he had already started right from the beginning.

The following week rolls by quickly, and he finds himself amongst thirty other candidates, Chaeyoung included, in the company gym, waiting for further orders while they warmed up.

The test involved performing basic operational drills in zero gravity and the monitoring of a heart rate that had to be stable enough throughout a 20-minute run on the treadmill.

80bpm was the standard, a standard that he knew he’d never meet if he was to use this body of his. So they’ve got it all covered- Yoongi would hack into the system, sync a strong, steady heartbeat over his weaker, unstable one while he carries out the run and goes on to act like he hasn’t broken a sweat.

Everything goes fine, except around the 15-minute mark, the connection falters and for a moment, he hears the rapid pulsing of his heart in his ears.

It gets heads turning in his direction, Chaeyoung’s included and he nearly misses a step and falls right off the treadmill.

“Stupid system,” he hears Yoongi scold into the earpiece, but even then as his heartbeat goes back to its normal, metronome pace, it doesn’t stop the blood from rushing to his head, a sudden shot of pain hammering itself into his left knee.

It overwhelms him in a matter of three seconds, before his throat starts to catch for more oxygen, having been on the damn machine for at least 18 minutes straight now.

The pressure wraps around him like a thick blanket, steaming from the inside yet he pushes on, unwilling to back down when he’s so close to tasting victory.

The lack of oxygen makes his head spin, but he forces his legs to move and not buckle right until the alarm for the end of the test sounds. A few other candidates step down, not even breaking a sweat and it makes a lump of displeasure lurch high over the pain he’s feeling in his legs.

So he speeds up, runs for a show of thirty more seconds before finally getting off the damn machine.

He misses the worried glance Chaeyoung throws to him and heads straight for the locker room, knees buckling the moment he locks himself into one of the stalls.

The oxygen in the atmosphere seems lacking when he breathes in consecutively, forehead pressed against the door for support, except it doesn’t help and his vision gets hazy as he meets the cold surface of the floor. Inhaling deeply, he forces himself off the ground before he can pass out and blow his cover for good.

He doesn’t know how he manages to make it back to the house.

Yoongi is nowhere to be found, which usually wouldn’t come as a surprise, though he can’t say it’s the same when he’s on the verge of hyperventilating he almost collapses on the landing of the stairs.

“Yoongi! Yoongi, where are you!”

“What the do you want now!” he hears the guy shout back. In the workroom, he deduces, but his legs don’t move despite the command of his mind.

“My legs- - please I need my pills, Yoongi please-”

He’s begging and it’s pathetic, but he can’t help himself, his body born to limit him from the start and he questions why he’s even trying in the first place, even though he’s already come so far. Too far.

“Jesus Christ- will you let me do my work in peace,” he hears the echo from the top of the stairs, but as it nears it turns into a shout of worry and exploding anger.

“ing hell- what the happened to you?”

Yoongi’s arms link under his armpits instantly, trying to pull him onto his feet, but it doesn’t work well, not when his legs don’t cooperate and he’s nearly twice the size of the older guy.

“My legs- they-” he’s stuttering, breathing so unevenly it sounds disturbing even to his own ears. Yoongi curses again.

“I can see that, why did you let it get so bad?”

A show of resistance would be the right answer if he carried through with it, but as his throat seizes, nothing else comes to mind except shame and his overwhelming dependence on his medicine.

“My pills, please- I need them-”

“Well where the did you put them?”

“In the top drawer…of the cabinet.”

“, okay- breathe Taehyung, breathe. I’ll be right back.”

He tries to do what he’s told, and it helps a little, though it still doesn’t take the throbbing pain coursing through his entire body away.

Yoongi comes back just in time with a glass of water and his medicine and he gratefully gulps everything down, not caring that he’s leaning against the older for support.

It takes a good five minutes for the tugging sensation in his left knee to fade, ebbing out slowly into numbness before he feels like he can breathe properly again.

“You must have been worried out of your damn mind to call me Taehyung,” he tries to joke, still slightly breathless as he sets down his empty glass.

Yoongi for once, doesn’t manage to crack a smile at the name. He frowns disapprovingly and opens his mouth to speak, except the voice that emerges is a far stretch from his own.

“Who’s Taehyung?”

Yoongi closes his mouth, narrowing his eyes and Taehyung jolts out of his daze, head snapping behind him so quickly he knows he’s going to get a sprain.

Chaeyoung stands a few steps away from them on the stairs, clutching the railings so tight as if it was her mission to make them break.

She looks from the floor where his legs are laying limp, to Yoongi’s face, before they flash disorientedly back to his face.

“Who’s Taehyung?” she asks again, eyes reddening around the rims.

He thinks he hears the eggshells lined neatly around them crack.

Her first tear falls just as he tries to push himself up, but she sniffles and takes a step back immediately.

“Chaeyoung,” he calls out weakly.

She’s breathing heavily, just like how he was a few minutes ago and he wonders when she’d came in, if she’d seen him in that mess before finally deciding to come down and confront the truth.

A small part of him hopes she hasn’t.

“Are you Taehyung?”

He holds her gaze, unable to say a word and the eggshells smash to pieces even though he doesn’t confirm it directly.

She allows herself two mouthfuls of oxygen, before her lips seal close, turning around with betrayal sunk deep in her watery eyes.

“I think she likes us,” Yoongi comments quietly over the sound of heels clicking up the stairs.

Taehyung doesn’t even bother shooting him a look, pushing himself up on his knees as he tries to ignore the searing pain he feels in his left leg.

“Chaeyoung! Chaeyoung!”

She hasn’t gone far, and he won’t allow her to go even further before he gets the chance to explain himself.

“Don’t touch me!” she screams, pulling back when his hand wraps around her wrist.

“Chaeyoung please, I’m still the same person I was yesterday!”

Taehyung wishes he could erase the look of heartbreak across her face as she shakes her head.

“I wish I could believe you,” she breathes, tears burning her eyes.

He takes a step closer guiltily. She takes two steps back.

His heart shatters, but he decides he won’t push the distance for now.

“My name is Kim Taehyung. It isn’t Kim Wonchul. I wasn’t naturally conceived; my parents didn’t opt for genetic modification, so I lived on a wheelchair for the first twenty years of my life. I’m a ‘faith birth’ or a ‘God-child’, whatever you want to call it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

“I loved you the day before and I still love you today. It doesn’t change anything,” he rushes out, voice cracking painfully on a whisper.

“How can you say that? How can you- when you’ve been lying to me from the start?”

“Chaeyoung-”

“You say you’re the same person, but I only knew Kim Wonchul. I barely know who Kim Taehyung is,” she swallows a sob and he feels his lungs seize, unable to breathe properly nor provide an appropriate reply.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Taehyung fumbles over his words, because no matter how hard he tries they all don’t seem deserving enough when he’s already hurt her so bad.

“I- I couldn’t-”

“You couldn’t what? Couldn’t trust me?”

No, he wants to say, but he knows it’s too late and he won't be able to erase all the doubt she's putting on display for him now.

“Weren’t you the one who told me imperfections didn’t matter? You made me believe that, yet you were doing the complete opposite yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Chaeyoung, I-”

She shakes her head, biting hard on her lip to stop the tears from flowing. Taehyung wants to wipe her tears away desperately, but his fingers stay put where they are at his sides, clenching the fabric of his pants instead.

“Maybe we both don’t belong here,” she starts softly, choking up on her words.

“But I thought it wouldn’t matter, because at the end of the day, I’d found home in someone else.”

His sight of her gets blurry and he can feel her slipping through his fingers, even though she’s standing right there.

“It seems I thought wrong after all.”

>

Yoongi comes home to Taehyung sunken into the couch, emptying a whole bottle of red wine by himself.

“And what the happened to you again?” he frowns, throwing his keys somewhere on the table. His eyes shift to his wine collection briefly and he’s relieved it’s still left untouched.

“I screwed up,” Taehyung replies without missing a single beat, but Yoongi doesn’t pay much attention to the ring of defeat in his voice.

His focus trains on the label of the wine bottle set on the coffee table, cabernet sauvignon, it reads and he wonders where Taehyung had learnt to start picking his own wine, because the guy knew practically nothing about it when he’d brought him out for the first time.

“When do you not?” he snorts, but the expected laugh doesn’t come after a few seconds and he chances a glance in Taehyung’s direction when he finally realizes something doesn’t add up.   

“You’re serious,” he comments quietly, after absorbing the misty, longing look Taehyung gives the deep red in his glass.

“Did they pull you out from the program?” he takes a guess.

The reply he hears surprises him. “Worse than that.”

“Well , I didn’t think there’d come a day you’d choose something else over going to space.”

“Me too.”

The hushed response flies over his ears, before it settles into a heavy silence that drapes over both their shoulders.

Yoongi cannot seem to find a reply to that, nor decide whose dream exactly- Kim Taehyung or Kim Wonchul’s- it weighs down more.

>

It takes him five days before he manages to raise enough courage to approach her during their lunchbreak at the rooftop they’d used to watch the launches together.

“Chaeyoung!” he calls out to her when he sees her dusting her skirt and getting ready to leave.

She turns at the sound of her name, but to Taehyung’s dismay, only walks faster when she sees him nearing.

“Chaeyoung! Wait!” he runs after her, snagging her wrist in a firm grip before she can move further away from him.

She hisses at the contact and tries to pull her hand back, but Taehyung’s unwilling to let go, not when all he’s dreamt of the past few days was to have her in his arms again.

“What?” she asks irritated when it seems she can’t win against him.

He tries his best to ignore the way the cold tone she’s taking with him pierces sharp into his heart.

“Hear me out, please. I leave in two days and I don’t want things to stay this way between us.”

She studies him quietly at the words and Taehyung thinks it’s disappointment he catches as her eyes drop from his to the floor.

“You’re going?” she questions, but it sounds more like an accusation he knows is directed straight at him.

He doesn’t avoid it. “Yes.”

He hears her inhale softly. They stand in a few seconds of silence before she decides to speak again. “What do you have to say?”

He’s blinking in shock, but then recovers quickly and-

“I love you.”

Her head snaps up at his reply immediately. Wet eyes appraise him carefully, nearly opening to say something before he interrupts her.

“I know you may not believe it still, you have every right to, but I thought I needed to tell you as Kim Taehyung, not Kim Wonchul.”

The name catches her full attention, and he’s glad he has it because the next words he’s going to confess is everything she needs to hear from his own mouth before he leaves for titan.

“Kim Wonchul was a dream come true to me until you came in, and suddenly this dream fulfilled dimmed in comparison to the one I hadn’t known when you started becoming a part of. But it made me question if I could be selfish, if I was deserving to desire for more than one dream despite already living in one. And I was scared, because no matter how I looked at it, the conclusion always seemed to tell me I’d lose both if this secret was ever revealed.”

He’s gasping slightly for air, not expecting how telling her he was afraid to lose her made his throat so dry it almost causes him to lose his voice.

“I know I’ve been a coward this entire time, but I also know I don’t want to lose you, so if you’d just give me one more chance, I promise this time I’ll show you the real me, the Kim Taehyung who’ll love you the way you rightfully deserve.”

He hears the light sniffling first, before he sees the tears run down her face and he realizes he hasn't been looking at her after he finished, too scared to take in the potential rejection he might face because maybe he was too late after all and she’d decided he wasn’t deserving in the first place.

But as he notices the slight curl along the ends of her lips and how she’s biting down on them to prevent herself from smiling too hard at him, he wants to believe he’s been given a second chance at a dream he won’t let slip from his hands by all means this time round.

“You seem to have a way with words, Kim Taehyung.”

He feels his body shake at the intensity of the smile widening across his face, taking a long, deep breath to compensate for the air he’d unconsciously held in while waiting for her answer.

“So do you, except you have a way with my heart too.”

She falls into his arms without another word and Taehyung welcomes the warmth he’s been dying to feel again with hands sliding against her back. One hand comes round the side of her head to press her closer, before combing soft, comforting touches through her hair that her face naturally leans towards.

“Do you have to go?” he hears her whisper into his chest.

He knows it’s something he has to address sooner or later, though he’s already made up his mind even before she asked. “Yeah.”

She holds on tighter to his jacket. “Why?”

“It’s what Kim Wonchul would’ve wanted. To confirm that there was someplace out there for him, for us,” he adds the last word more quietly and she sniffles harder in his arms.

He knows it might sound like a foolish thought, after all where else did he need to look when home was just right beside her?

“What does Kim Taehyung want?” her voice is soft, as if she didn’t want to know the answer to her question.

He wants many, many things, he repeats inside his head. But the most important one, he’s come to decide after this entire experience, is to leave Kim Wonchul behind and never look back again.

“For you to wait,” is the reply he goes with, and the one that makes her clutch her fingers around the thought of not being able to see him.

A year is long, but she knows it’s going to be even longer without him.

“Wait for me, please,” he breathes, desperate even though he knows he’s asking too much. But he has to try, has to know if she’s willing to leave half her heart with him so he can carry it to space and prove there’s home out there for the both of them. In exchange, he’ll leave his whole heart here with her.

Her eyes shine like the first crack of sunlight that breaks across the surface of a swimming pool, but he knows it’s not out of happiness that she stares long and hard at him, as if collecting payment for an entire year’s worth of time of not being able to see his face beforehand.

His vision clouds, but he wipes away the tears before they get the chance to make it down his face, wanting to remember her in the clearest, precise clarity so when he’d return, it would be as if he never left.

“You better return in one piece, Kim Taehyung.”

>

It’s funny, he thinks as he steps into the shuttle and they run the final checks, how he’s having a hard time leaving this world suddenly, when for the longest time it was everything he always wanted.

The pr system echoes commands that he doesn’t pay attention to, mind floating elsewhere despite being grounded by gravity and his harness securing him firmly into his seat.

A year. It’s just once around the sun.

The sun that Chaeyoung will only get to see at its closest when she looks up at the sky.

He holds onto that thought as the shuttle takes off from the ground and tells himself the next time he sees her, she’s going to be proud that he fulfilled two dreams instead of one.

>

Seoul, 2821

Not breathing earth’s oxygen for one year gets to him the moment he steps off the shuttle.

He’s not upset per say, when titan had turned out to be mere rocks and thick fog, it meant one less moon for the company to revisit and settle their equipment on and one more place he- no, they would still be able to call home.

The director is less than pleased however, not that he cares, he’d be turning in his resignation letter the next day.

Because if a year of travelling had taught him one thing, it’d be that home is always closest to where the heart is.

“Welcome home, Mr Kim.”

Chaeyoung smiles at him, holding the heart he’d left with her to keep safe in her hands, so it’d be as though he never left when he collected it back.

He returns the smile and pulls her into his arms.

“Just Taehyung would do.”

She wraps herself around his words and sinks her smile deep into his jacket. “Okay, welcome home, Taehyung.”

(He tells himself later he’d let her know about the policy where his heart once given, could never be returned.)

>

i'm sorry this took so long!! i changed the ending because i wasn't satisfied with it and i didn't expect it would delay the process that much! hope y'all still like it tho!!