m.

We asked two friends some questions individually, to see both sides of their story.

You and Jin walk to the chairs designated for you.

"Wait – I get this chair so it shows my best side." You say, as you nudged Jin aside before he could even take the seat to the left of the camera.

"Fine. Both sides are my best sides, so I don’t mind." He replies, and the sound of the staff chuckling behind the camera is heard.

He sits down on the opposite chair as the camera zooms in on you jokingly rolling your eyes.

It cuts to you guys introducing yourselves.

"Hi, I’m Kim Seokjin." He says to the camera, but his eyes wander awkwardly and he hides his face a little before chuckling.

"This is kinda embarrassing." He says.

"Hi! I’m ___." You speak to the camera with a slight chirp and even a wave when it pans toward you.

"You’re good at this." Jin’s voice says off camera.

"I barely said anything," you remarked as you got handed the noise-canceling headphones and let out a small thank you and bowed to the staff.

"Oh! So we’re getting started right away?" Says Jin

How did you guys first meet?

His side

Jin was about to answer when you started bobbing your head furiously.

"I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights," you whisper-sing and then mouthed the next line before laughing at Jin’s annoyed face.

"She chose this playlist, didn’t she?"

"Uhm.." It cuts to Jin looking at you as he thinks, "I think it was freshman orientation week? Yeah, I remember her approaching me and asking if she was in the right philosophy class. She sat next to me, and then after that, she started sitting next to me the rest of the semester. That was six years ago."

The clip shows you leaning forward a little with a focused look as you stare at his face.

"She’s trying to read my lips." Jin covers your view of his mouth with one hand. "And it’s just the first question." 

It cuts to you handing the phone and headphones to Jin. "Careful with that; it’s really loud."

Her side

"I sat next to him in philosophy class during freshman year because I thought--" you chuckle and cover your mouth, "he seemed like the type of guy who gets really good grades. He had this really cute pink baseball cap on and a pair of glasses. I thought he looked quite handsome."

You pause for a bit, and with widened eyes, you slap your palm on your mouth. You looked at the staff behind the camera and said, "Wait! I just realized he’s gonna watch this and hear that I called him handsome." You mutter a small damn it that was caught by the mic.

Meanwhile, Jin sat up straight and looked back and forth between you and the staff.

"What? What’s going on?" He says, and the staff’s laughter can be heard.

"You’re. an. idiot." you slowly mouth to him, and he focuses on reading your lips.

"You’re an idiot?" he whispered under his breath before realizing what you said and leaning back against his chair. He rolled his eyes at you and flipped you off, but his hand was blurred out by the editor.

Both sides

"Oh! Right—see, it was that philosophy class wasn’t it?" He says with a clap of his hands.

"Yeah, yeah – do you remember what I was wearing?" You asked him and fiddled with the headphones.

"Uhhh.. it was like a dress, like a floral dress?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, your eyes widening, "I never– what?"

He rolls his eyes,"Yes, it was a floral dress, remember? Orientation week."

"Orientation week?"

"Yes!" he lets out an exasperated laugh, "You asked me if it was Mr. Song’s philosophy class."

"Oh my god, that was you?!" You laugh. "I was wondering why you said dress. Yes, I wore a dress once but only during orientation week, but I don’t remember talking to you." You laugh again. "I just remember your pink cap, was that not orientation?" You add

"That was the second week, you idiot. You wore a hoodie then." He retorted.

What is your most fond memory of your friendship?

His side

"I was dealing with a really bad breakup – like, I think this was four years ago? Yeah," he scratches at the back of his neck "but I had to write something for this screenwriting class I was taking, so I locked myself up in my dorm room and didn’t contact anyone. I buried myself with schoolwork and barely did anything outside of that – even sleeping or eating." He chuckles as he looks back on the memory.

"Then two days later, she comes banging on the door, telling me to get my shit together. It was harsh, actually–sort of like a tough love situation. But I needed that. I was neglecting myself – and it took her snapping at me like that to wake me up. I think I was on the brink of passing out from over-fatigue, but she saved me from that."

"She stayed with me, made sure I was eating and staying hydrated. She even slept on the couch at one point just to make sure I was getting enough sleep as well—yeah, that was…" He trails off and chuckles as he looks at you, swaying your body side to side to what he assumes is a Michael Bublé song [he was certain it was in your playlist somewhere]. 

"I would say it was a fond memory because it really solidified her place in my life. Like– relationships come and go, you know? But I knew I wanted her to stay in my life forever, to snap me out of it when I’m spiraling out of control." He continues.

Her side

You fiddle with the phone a bit before sitting back in your chair.

"Frank Sinatra. So he gets distracted and doesn't try to read my lips" You say to the camera, and then a satisfied smile when he starts mouthing the words to ‘Fly Me To The Moon’.

"When our family dog Chichi died and I was in the middle of an important 3-day seminar in a different city," you start off. "I couldn’t go home for the weekend at that time because of it, so he offered to go for me—at my family home, I mean. So he drove there and stayed with my family, video calling me almost the entire time just so I could feel present. It really felt like I had sent Chichi away properly, you know? even if I wasn’t there.

"Needless to say, my grandma has been very fond of him since then. She told me that if Jin and I had a falling out for whatever reason, she would keep him and disown me." You laugh and throw your head back a little, earning a small smile from Jin.

"So I was like, damn, okay, I’m keeping him for life I guess. Don’t wanna disappoint grandma, you know?"

Both Sides

"What did you say?" You ask as Jin places the phone and headphones on his lap and he ruffles his hair.

"The one– my breakup with *beep* " Jin panics slightly and turns to face the producer, saying, "Wait, can you please bleep that out, I don't want my ex to know." He squeaks out a laugh 

"Wait but for real, when I got that call from Joon—that was his dorm mate by the way—I got really worried." You recall with a slight frown.

"Oh, yeah—I was so annoyed because it was like, 'You dare become dehydrated? Not on my watch!’" You said with a laugh.

"Yeah." He smiled fondly, "What about you?"

"Chichi," you say with a pout, and he coos.

"Right, yeah." He said in a small voice. "But hey, me and granny had the time of our lives that weekend, I ate so many cookies." He adds with a grin.

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes.

Were there any big fights you can remember?

His Side

Jin lets out a boisterous laugh, his body leaning forward and almost falling off the chair. The camera catches you looking at him, brows furrowed in confusion and a little concerned.

"I-" Jin stops and coughs a little, then looks at you, knitting your eyebrows at him. "Fucking cheesecake." He says, and your laughter can be heard off camera—as it is currently zoomed in on him.

"I know she’s gonna think of the same story, so I’m letting her tell it." He let out some of the residual laughter left in him before asking you to take off the headphones.

Her Side

You were laughing uncontrollably that it was kind of hard to breathe.

"Wait, that is it?" You ask as he asks for the headphones and nods. You put it on his head and smile.

"Sorry, I just—I saw him mouth the word cheesecake and I lost it."

The scene cuts to you shaking your head, "See, I knew it would be a question like that." You giggle.

"So. The Cheesecake incident," you start off. "It was one of those times in college when everyone was stressed—it was one of those ‘hell weeks’ as we call it. So, tension and stress were high for everyone, and we were no exception. One day after class, I went home to find him munching on something in my apartment’s kitchen.

"So a little context for this, there’s this really good bakery two hours away from campus, and whenever I go there I buy a whole thing of this amazing, out of this world cheesecake. 

"So I saw him and I was like, ‘hey! Is that my fucking cheesecake?’ He said ‘yeah’ and immediately I started yelling at him about how it was so inconsiderate of him to eat it without my permission, and then he started going off about 'it's just a fucking cheesecake!’" You laugh and look at him trying to look innocent.

"So at one point, we were fighting over the box of cake in the kitchen, and of course, it plomps to the floor – I mean, what else do you expect to happen?

"So it fell on the floor right, and at that moment we just stopped and stared at it – then at each other. A few moments later, he grabs his fork and sits down – he starts eating it off the floor!" You cover your face with your hands.

"I don't know what dawned over me because I got my own fork and ate with him – we both looked like fucking idiots. We started apologizing to each other because, I swear to god we have never yelled at each other that much since we met." You started laughing uncontrollably again, and then waved your hand.

"Wait! Disclaimer, we ate the parts that didn't touch the floor – I don't want people to think we're disgusting."

Both Sides

“You told them about the cheesecake?”

“Yeah.”

“Good times.”

What is the biggest secret that you’ve never told the other person?

His Side

"Oh god, here we go. Is this the last one?" He asks someone off screen.

"Right. Save the juiciest for last."

He contemplates a little before talking.

"So uhm… fuck." He laughs nervously.

"I.. It was three years ago. We were hanging out in her apartment, and I guess she saw it from the internet because she was on her phone at that time.

"She asked me if I would still be friends with her even if she was a worm." He started giggling and shaking his head. "So fucking stupid. Anyway, I immediately said no, and she just rolled her eyes at me and moved on.

"But it got me thinking, reevaluating what she means to me, and then it struck me. I would love her no matter what. I would love her even on days when she's so cranky she doesn't even like talking to me. I would love her on days we're both so stressed that we eat cheesecake off the floor." He throws his head back in laughter.

"I'm in love with her— fuck I'm in love with her." He looks at you with your eyes closed, swinging your body to a mellow song.

Her Side

"Oh! Here we go. I was waiting for that one." You said that and faced him. You saw him look intently at you, like he was gonna try to read your lips to see what you would say. You let out an exhale before gesturing for him to close his eyes, and he does.

"So, remember what I said about that day I first saw him during Philosophy class? Yeah. I’ve developed a big fat crush on him since then. God, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud.

"Okay, so it was a crush—was, because it did start out like that. But the thing is, not soon after that, he got into a relationship — and it was a serious one too. So that crush was crushed immediately." You wink at the camera. "Pun intended." Before proceeding, you check to see if Jin's eyes are still closed.

"It started out as a crush, but it lasted three years—and you know what they say about a crush lasting a certain time before it turns into something else? Yeah.. But then I drew the line at that three-year mark. I thought, ‘this cannot continue,’ and even after he and his girlfriend had broken up, I didn’t try to act on it, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship." You laugh bitterly.

"Broke my heart, man. But I guess that’s on me. I was a coward." You dropped your gaze to your hands before letting out a breath of relief.

"Oh man, that felt so good to get off my chest." You smile at the camera briefly before switching your gaze to Jin.

Both Sides

Jin stretches his arms and lets out a grunt, "What did you say?"

"Oh, it was so juicy that you’re going to have to wait until this video comes out to find out." You reply while you wiggle your brows.

"Really? I bet it got nothing on what I had to say." He says to you in a low voice, looking at you intently.

"Doubt that. Guess we’re gonna have to find out, huh?"

The video shows a clip of the both of you posing silly for the camera, signaling the end of the video.

—

Jin taps the spacebar once and immediately snaps his body to face you.

"You…" he trails off, and a moment of silence surrounds you.

"I can't believe your romantic epiphany about me was triggered by me asking you if you'd still be friends with me even if I was a worm." You said, and just like that, the stiff tension between you was broken and he laughed.

A few beats of silence pass before he speaks again.

"You were in love with me?" he asks.

"You’re in love with me?" you ask back.

He rolls his eyes and says, "Don’t answer my question with another question."

You huff. "Fine. I was in love with you. Ugh, cringe." You roll your eyes playfully. He collects your hands and encloses them with his, forcing you to look at him.

"Hey, I know humor is your coping mechanism, but we have to talk about this."

You close your eyes for a moment before sighing. "Fine."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" He asks in a meek voice, as if he was scared.

"Because," you started off as you gestured with your hands, "like I said, I didn’t plan on acting on it. I didn’t want to risk this." You pointed at the two of you. "I was scared, so I stored it in a box and buried it in the deepest corner of my mind." You add.

You see a flash of hope pass through his eyes. "Then, will you dig it up? Will you try with me?" You don’t speak for a moment too long, so he brings your hands up to his lips and places a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, and I’m hoping you still love me too. I know it's scary, as you mentioned, but I'd like to give it a shot with you. I think—no, I know that we’ll be great together." He looks at you with a desperate look in his eyes, and you soften.

"Okay." You reply after a few seconds, and his eyes widen.

"Really?" His voice cracked and you felt your heart drop from your chest.

"Really, you idiot, I just told you." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, and he chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, and you don’t verbally reply but you lean in and go for it.

It felt perfect. It was the sweetest kiss you have ever experienced, and you’re glad you’re sharing it with him. It felt like the easiest thing in the world, like it was the most natural thing to do. You let out a small whine when he pulls away, but he cradles your cheek and you lean into his warmth.

"I still have that cap, you know? The one you thought I looked handsome in." He let out a devilish smirk.

"Shut up."

—

Bonus Post-credit scene

"and I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream from the top of my lungs, What's going on?" Jin belts out as the staff adjusts the lighting since the outside was now darker as seen through the window. You scooched your chair closer and removed the headphones from his ears.

"Take this off for a second, you might ruin your eardrums." You placed the phone and the headphones on his lap, being careful not to get the cords tangled.

"Oop, okay." He shook his head and fixed his hair. He then brought up a hand to pinch your cheek.

"Thanks for looking out for me." He said in a soft voice.

You smile, your eyes crinkling up. "Always."

[Fade to black]

—

“Gravity powering on in 3… 2… 1…” Namjoon’s voice wakes you on Thursday morning in your sleep pod. As the weight returns to your feet, the weight of the past few days returns to your mind. While your evening with Taehyung last night had been a welcome distraction, in the light of day, you feel a lot of your choices lately beginning to catch up to you: Namjoon’s chastising email about public spaces, Jimin’s jealousy and refusal to stick to the rules you’ve attempted to hold to, Jungkook’s disappointment at your unfinished date…

But the worst is the look in Hoseok’s eyes as he caught you with Jungkook’s head between your legs on the counter of your shared lab. And his refusal to talk to you afterward even as you begged outside his door. You still haven’t seen him since that moment, having spent all yesterday in the greenhouse. But you are all out of greenhouse chores today and are going to have to face up to him soon. 

A knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. For a moment, your heart hopes that it’s Hoseok. But it’s Jimin’s voice that calls your name. Oh right. It’s Thursday. Thursdays belong to Jimin. 

“Good morning, Jimin,” you groan as you open the door. He’s standing in the hallway with two cups of coffee in his hand. You grimace. While you appreciate the thoughtfulness, Jimin has yet to make you a cup of coffee in the way you actually prefer. He always makes it too sweet. “How can I help you?” you ask.

“It’s Thursday!” he announces cheerfully, pressing the coffee into your hands as he presses his way into your sleep pod. “Perhaps I should be asking how I can help you?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

For the first time in a long time though, you are genuinely not in the mood for him. 

“Ah, Jimin…” you sigh, “I’m really not sure I have it in me this morning.”

“Taehyung tired you out that much?” He smirks. “I had been hoping you’d come find me last night.” The echo of his “I’m gonna fuck every one of them out of you” plays in your mind and you sip your coffee to give yourself a second to think.

To your surprise, the coffee isn’t too sweet this time. It’s just right.

“This coffee is better,” you say, eager to dodge the question about Taehyung. “Why is the coffee better?”

Jimin shuffles his feet a little sheepishly. “I asked Yoongi how you liked it.”

“Oh.” You frown down at your cup. Yoongi really did always know what you like.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was making it wrong?” he asks. 

“I dunno…” You avoid his gaze and shrug. “Seemed ungrateful.”

“But how am I supposed to give you what you want if you never actually tell me what that is?” Suddenly this conversation seems to be about more than just coffee. 

You are so tired today, you can’t help yawning. “I’m sorry, Jimin. I’m doing my best.”

“Taehyung kept you up late?” He asks again, but this time there’s no smirk. His expression is actually much more hurt and vulnerable. 

“Taehyung was a perfect gentleman.” You reply defensively. 

“I see.” Jimin frowns. “More perfect than me.” 

“Ugh, Jimin…” you wave your arms in exasperation. “I can’t actually have sex with you and another man every single day. I don’t have the stamina.” As if to prove your point, your body chooses this moment to cripple you with a huge yawn. “I’m so tired.”

Jimin sighs, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. You enjoy the coffee. I’ll find you later.”

You nod and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he leaves. 

_______

Jin, Jungkook, and Hoseok are at the breakfast table when you finally get enough caffeine in your system to leave your sleep pod. You contemplate fleeing, but maybe finding all of them together is better than alone. Maybe this way any contentious conversations will have to wait a little longer. 

Hoseok notices you first, but doesn’t say anything, just frowns and returns to his breakfast of rice porridge. Jungkook gives you a tight-lipped half smile. Jin, god bless him, gives an enthusiastic smile and wave, the only man who seems actually happy to see you this morning.  But no one leaps up to get you breakfast today. The only sounds are the scraping of spoons against bowls as you shuffle over to get yourself some cold cereal. 

The silent tension is soon too much for Jin. “Man, I would kill for a breakfast sandwich,” he says. You, Jungkook, and Hoseok all give him a half-hearted chuckle. “I really think a good breakfast sandwich is like the peak achievement of human civilization,” he continues. “An egg sandwich with ham and cheese? You have to domesticate like three different animals for that.”

You are very grateful for his attempts to break the silence, even if you have heard Jin’s breakfast sandwich rant before. “I will definitely buy you a breakfast sandwich when we get back home,” you say as you sit down next to him and pat his hand affectionately with yours. 

“And the toasted ones they make in Seoul, with the cabbage and carrots -  if you count the wheat, that’s like three more domesticated plants…” Jin continues before Jungkook cuts in.

“So you’re still going to be together when we get back home?” Jungkook asks, watching where your hand rests on top of Jin’s.

Hoseok looks up too and now all three of the men in the room are staring at you.

“Uh… umm…” you stammer, glancing between them. “Well, it’s hard to say, we’ve only been on one date.” You attempt to dodge the question with what you think is a playful tease.

“So you’re dating Jin?” Jungkook’s hand clenches more tightly around his spoon. “And Taehyung?”

“Uh…” you let go of Jin’s hand. “I guess… if you want to call it that.”

Jungkook slams his clenched fist and spoon down on the table. “Why will you date them and not me?”

“Hey, hey,” Jin laughs nervously. “I’m not really sure Monday counts as a date anyways…”

Hoseok scoffs. “Wasn’t that a date happening in my lab?” he asks.

“Stay out of this, both of you!” Jungkook snaps. 

“You stay out of it!” Hoseok retorts, standing up. “Why are you bringing this up at breakfast?” 

Jungkook leaps to his feet as well, but you stand up and place yourself between them. “Really, Jungkook… this isn’t an appropriate time to talk about this,” you chastise.

“Oh yeah,” Jungkook arches an eyebrow, chest heaving in agitation. “And when would be a convenient time for that conversation? Next Tuesday? After you’ve fucked him too?” He gestures at Hoseok and Hoseok flinches. 

“Get out!” You yell at Jungkook, pushing at his chest. “Get out until you’ve calmed down.”

“I’m not a child!” Jungkook bellows back. “I’m a man! A man who’s in love with you and you don’t give a fuck!”

“You’re not in love with me!” You shout, horrified that he is continuing to do this here in front of both Hoseok and Jin. “You don’t care about me! You didn’t choose me!” If he did care, he wouldn’t be doing this to you right now. “I’m just the only available vagina and you got tired of jerking off!” 

“You don’t care about me!” Jungkook yells back. “All you care about is collecting seven different cocks!”

“Get out!!” You yell, on the verge of tears. “Get out, get out, get out!” 

Jin stands up as well, moving to stand next to you.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’m leaving…” Jungkook puts his hands up in defeat, muttering to himself as he cleans up his breakfast dishes and throwing them into the sink with a loud clang before storming out of the kitchen.

You collapse into a chair, fighting hard with your breathing to keep from crying. 

Hoseok sighs, crossing his arms and turning to go. 

“Wait, Hoseok, please don’t go,” you plead. He pauses, back still to you. “I… I need a friend,” you say softly.

He turns back toward you, but his arms stay crossed. “Look, I’m sorry you’re having a hard time with whatever that was…” He gestures in the direction that Jungkook left in. “But we’re not friends. I don’t feel like I know you at all anymore.”

That, more than anything else this morning, makes tears well in your eyes. “No, Hoseok, please, I’m still the same person.”

He just shakes his head. “You used to care about this mission. You used to care about us.”

“I do care…” You stand up and come closer to him. “I do care about you.” But the moment you reach for him, he pulls away. 

“Then why did you do that in the lab?!” His voice cracks, so much hurt and betrayal packed into one sentence. 

“I…” But you don’t have an answer. “I don’t know.” You collapse back down into your chair. 

“I can’t trust your judgement anymore.” Hoseok says, squaring his shoulders. “Stay out of my lab.” 

He turns and leaves the room as you lose all composure and collapse onto the table in sobs. Everything is fucked. Everything is fucked and it’s all your fault. 

A hand touches your shoulder and you flinch. 

“It’s just me.” Jin says, running his large warm hand over your shoulder. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” He rubs your back as your sobbing abates. 

“I… I really don’t see how,” you sniffle, picking your head up off your arms and wiping your face with a napkin that Jin hands you. 

“Well, someday we’ll be back on Earth,” he says, with a small sympathetic half smile half frown. “And I’ll buy you a breakfast sandwich.”

______

The list of things that you can do in the greenhouse is dwindling. When Jimin’s finds you around lunch time, you’re in the process of re-inventorying your seed stores, checking each container for signs of mold or water damage. 

“Whatcha doing?” he asks, bumping you with his hip as he sidles up next to you. 

“Nothing important,” you mutter, jotting down another 100 tally mark before you lose your place. You have well over 2000 tomato seeds in your stores now. 

“Taehyung was in a great mood today.” Jimin says. 

“Yeah?” You half-heartedly reply, dumping out another package onto your seed-counting tray. 

“Perhaps he wasn’t such a perfect gentleman, after all?” Jimin bumps you again, causing a row of ten seeds you just lined up to scatter. 

You huff. “Nothing happened, Jimin.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing happened’?” Jimin asks, confused. “Hasn’t he been in love with you for months?”

Shit. Are you going to disappoint yet another crew member if you don’t maintain the lie that you and Tae are sleeping together?

“Oh, well, yeah, I guess some stuff happened. I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear about it.” You shrug, attempting to resume your counting and ignore this line of inquiry. 

“No, I want to know!” Jimin says, wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing just below your ear. “Tell me what happened…”

The warmth of him wrapped around you is a comfort after the morning you’ve had. You sigh and lean back against him. “Well, it was really nice actually. He set up this whole beautiful date for us. He decorated the rover with the landing lights, so it was all sparkly.”

“Mmm…” Jimin groans, rubbing against you as he kisses your neck. “And then what happened?”

“He had some bubbly apple juice and real champagne glasses. It was pretty magical.”

Jimin laughs. “Only Tae could do something like that. Where’d he get champagne glasses from?”

“He said he brought them from Earth.”

“See?” Jimin spins you around to face him. “I told you he was in love with you.”

You roll your eyes and fight the urge to say ‘no, he’s in love with you, you doofus.’

“I don’t know about that,” you say. “But it was really a very lovely evening.”

“And so?” Jimin lets the question hang for a minute as you raise an eyebrow. “Did you hook up with him?”

“Umm,” you bite your lip. “Yeah…”

“In the rover?”

You nod. 

“You dirty girl,” Jimin grins. “Tell me more.”

“You don’t want to know the details, do you?” You squirm back around to face your seed trays. 

“Actually, I really do.” He pulls you back against him again and presses his hips against your ass. “It kind of turns me on.” 

“Umm, well, I, uh, climbed under the table and sucked him off.” You would be lying to say that hadn’t occurred to you as something to do last night, if Taehyung had actually been interested in you.

“That’s my girl. Tell me more.” You can feel Jimin’s erection grinding against you. 

“Umm… he uhh…” You struggle for any further details as Jimin begins kissing you again. “He held his hands in my hair.” 

Jimin runs his hand through your hair. “Where did he come?”

“On my chest,” you lie.

“Fuck,” Jimin starts unzipping his jumpsuit. “You turn me on so much.” He pulls you away from your seeds and toward the rows of plants. “Come on, come suck me off.”

“No, Jimin…” you pull your hands away from him. “This is the greenhouse.”

“Oh, come on. Since when do you care?”

“We-we have to be more professional…”

“I think that ship sailed a while ago.” He keeps pulling you in the direction of the stacks. Hoseok’s “you used to care about this mission” plays in your head.

“No! Jimin!” You yank your hand out of his. “I’m not going to do this right now!”

He pauses, frowning. “But it’s Thursday. It’s my only day.” 

“That didn’t stop you from fucking me on Tuesday. I am not in the mood today!”

He crosses his arms. “You were in the mood to blow Yoongi in the greenhouse. You told me about that. What is it about him that makes you forget all the rules?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “This isn’t about Yoongi.” You turn back to your work. 

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he says. And when you look up again, he’s gone.

______

You spend the rest of the day counting seeds and listening to your Sounds of Earth playlist, trying and failing to stop replaying the conversation from breakfast over and over again. You feel bad for the way you yelled at Jungkook and worse for your betrayal of Hoseok. And now with Jimin upset too, you’re really struggling to see in what way anything about your plan has worked out so far. 

You’re contemplating the odds that you could sneak into the kitchen and back to your sleep pod without seeing anyone when Jimin’s voice comes over the intercom. 

Chief Botanist to the workshop please. Chief Botanist to the workshop. 

The workshop? Yoongi’s workshop? Your heart rate speeds up instinctively. Why does Jimin want you to meet him there? You throw down your equipment for the day and brush off your hands. 

You manage to sneak unseen through the hallway to the workshop and find Jimin there, leaning against Yoongi’s workbench. 

The workbench you filmed yourself masturbating on. The workbench you begged Yoongi to fuck you over. It is suspiciously clean and clear of any projects. 

You look around for the flight engineer warily, but Jimin seems to be the only person here. 

“Um, why did you want me to come here?” you ask.

“Well, I want you to come everywhere,” Jimin answers cheekily. “But this is where you and Yoongi filmed the video, isn’t it?

“Yes…” you answer slowly, bouncing on your toes and still expecting Yoongi to appear from somewhere. “Right there.” You gesture in the direction of him and the workbench.

“Here?” he asks, arching an eyebrow as he pats the bench suggestively.

You swallow. “Yeah, on the bench.”

He chuckles low. “Would you show me?”

You glance at the door. “But what if Yoongi comes back?”

As if on cue, the doors open and your dark haired flight engineer strolls casually into the room. He looks between the two of you, not particularly surprised to see either of you. 

“I actually asked Yoongi to join us this evening.” Jimin says. 

“Join us?” Your palms start sweating at the very idea. “Join us for what?”

“Well, not for tea.” Yoongi laughs, leaning against a shelf behind him, looking much too relaxed for your comfort. 

Jimin climbs up onto the workbench, trying to mirror Yoongi’s relaxed stance. “I want to know what he does that you like so much.” 

“It’s not about him!” You again try to argue. 

“Oh really?” Yoongi arches an eyebrow. “ The last time you were here you were begging me to fuck you over that workbench.”

Jimin glances down startled and hops off the workbench. “I would like to believe it’s not about him,” he says, walking toward you. “But I’m still feeling quite out of the loop for never having gotten to see this video that apparently everyone else did. I think I’m missing an important piece of the puzzle here. I was hoping the two of you might enlighten me.”

“And you’re fine with that?” you ask Yoongi.

Yoongi nods. “If you are.” Then he smirks. “Seems like our mission specialist could use some pointers.”

Ah, now you see how Yoongi got talked into this. Competitiveness and the chance to prove that he’s the one who really understands you. 

“This is a bad idea,” you answer, shaking your head. 

“Probably.” Jimin and Yoongi say in unison, then smirk at each other. 

“What are the ground rules?” Your hands are trembling and you’re not sure if it’s nerves or excitement. 

“Only I get to touch you.” Jimin says. “It is Thursday after all.”

“I don’t need to touch her.” Yoongi replies, so damn smug. “She likes being told what to do.”

Oh fuck, you’re in trouble. The way the two of them look at you, it’s hard to think clearly. 

“Okay,” you whisper breathlessly. “Let’s do it.”

“Excellent!” Jimin claps his hands together. “How did it start?”

“Well, I already took the liberty of blocking the camera.” Yoongi replies. “So then I think it began with a blindfold.” He looks at you questioningly. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah…” you nod. You would like to shut out the rest of the world for a moment.

Yoongi picks up a familiar cloth and some tape and begins walking toward you. Your heart races. 

“I can do it.” Jimin cuts in, grabbing the items for Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi hands them over to him and you feel a pang of disappointment. 

Jimin runs over to you, brushing up against you as he wraps the blindfold over your eyes. You let out a sigh at the comforting darkness. 

“And then I told her to take her clothes off.” Yoongi says from behind you. “And she did.”

You move to pull down your zipper, but Jimin’s hand is already there, startling you. For a moment, you are nervous again. This is a bad idea. 

“That’s a good girl.” Yoongi’s voice calls to you and you let Jimin help you out of your clothes. 

“Then she got up on the workbench and spread her legs.” 

You pause for a second, having been spun around in the clothing removal process and not totally sure where the workbench is. 

“Jimin, help her find the bench.” It’s Yoongi’s voice, but Jimin’s hands that guide you to the workbench. Jimin picks up you around the waist to lift you onto the workbench. “Good girl,” Jimin murmurs, mimicking Yoongi. “Let us see you.”

“I don’t know…” you rub your legs together, still nervous. 

“You can do it.” Yoongi prompts. “Don’t you remember? You’re the sexiest fucking thing in the whole universe.” You gasp, he chuckles, and you find the courage to spread your legs apart, pushing yourself back onto the bench and placing your feet at the edge. 

Jimin gives out a low whistle. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Yoongi asks and you feel your face heat up. 

“Fucking perfect.” Jimin agrees and your core clenches in response. Both men groan and your head gets a little fuzzier. 

“Now touch yourself,” Yoongi commands.  

“How should I touch myself?” you tease. You hear Jimin’s zipper begin sliding down next to you. 

“Hold on there, Jimin.” Yoongi chastens. “Give her a minute.”

“I just need some room to breathe…” Jimin replies. “Goddamn.”

“Take your fingers, suck on them.” Yoongi’s voice is back to you. You obey, running your tongue over two fingers before placing them in your mouth and sucking lightly. You hear Jimin take a sharp inhale of breath. “Now touch your nipples.” Yoongi commands. 

You run your fingers down your neck and swirl your fingers around your nipple as Jimin groans out loud. 

“How can you stand not touching her?” he asks, running a hand up your leg and making you shiver. 

“Have patience, mission specialist.” Yoongi replies. “Just watch.”

There is something deeply intoxicating about them talking about you without involving you directly. Like you are both here and not here at the same time. 

“Please…” you sigh.

“Please what?” Yoongi asks and it sounds like he’s come closer to you. 

“Keep going.” You swirl your fingers around your nipple again and shudder. 

“Good girl.” You can hear the grin in Yoongi’s voice. “Touch your clit.” You do as he says, groaning as you bring your hand down to your most sensitive part. “Very good.”

“Do you wish it was my fingers right now instead of yours?” Yoongi asks, a direct imitation of the original video. He must have watched it a lot before it finally got deleted. 

“Yes…” you moan. 

“What about Jimin?” Yoongi asks and you hear Jimin shuffle off what you assume is his jumpsuit. “We did this to make a video for him. You did like his video, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” You pause, wondering what Jimin is thinking right now. But you don’t have to wonder for long. 

“What did you like about it?” Jimin whispers, leaning in so close you can feel the warmth of him. 

Your insides squirm with embarrassment. 

“Go on,” Yoongi encourages. “Tell him what you liked.”

“I liked your abs.” You circle your clit to distract from the things you are saying. “I like your cock.”

“That’s a good girl.” Jimin leans in and kisses your cheek. “Keep going.”

“I think at this point, I started asking her whose dicks she wanted to suck.” Yoongi says. You groan, speeding up the circles of your hand. 

“Oh yeah?” Jimin asks and you can hear how breathless he is. “And whose dicks did you want to suck?

You tilt your head back and gasp. “Everyone’s.”

“And why’s that?” Yoongi prompts.

You bite your lip. 

“You can do it,” Yoongi encourages. “Tell Jimin what you are.”

“I’m a slut.” Your core clenches again and you hear Jimin groan. 

“That’s my girl.” Yoongi says and you have to pull your hand off of yourself or else you are definitely going to come. 

“Can someone please fuck me now?” you gasp, panting. 

“I second that.” Jimin groans. 

“Alright, Mr. Mission Specialist in Charge of Drilling…” Yoongi teases. “Let’s see what you got.”

“Finally,” Jimin groans. “Come here.” He grabs your waist and slides you to the edge of the bench. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please fuck me Jimin.”

“Tell me again what you are.”

“I’m a slut. A dirty desperate slut.”

“Yes, you are.” He grabs your hips possessively as he sheathes himself inside you. “And you’re all mine.”

Yoongi scoffs. “She’s such a good little slut for her whole crew. Isn’t that right? Tell Jimin how much you like me watching right now.”

Jimin picks up his pace and it’s all you can do to pant out “I like it. I love it.”

“Such a good girl,” Jimin continues. “My little slut. Tell me again.”

There’s nothing but darkness beneath the blindfold. Nothing but darkness and the voices of the two men pulling you further and further away from yourself with every command, every thrust inside you. 

“I’m a slut,” you cry. “It’s all I’m good for. Please. Please fuck me harder. Tell me it’s all I’m good for.” There are tears in your eyes and you’re not sure if they’re from pleasure or pain. 

“It’s all you’re good for,” Jimin answers. “Just a dumb whore who belongs to whoever’s inside her.” He presses down on your hand on top of your clitoris as he thrusts into you again and it sends you flying over the edge of your orgasm, whole body clenching over and over as you gasp in pleasure. 

Jimin’s reaching his end too, grabbing your hips more firmly. You spill into overstimulation and try to squirm away, but he holds you tightly. “Take it. Take it slut.”

“Ah, Jimin, wait…” you gasp, trying a bit harder to push him off of you. 

“Hey, Jimin, hang on…” Yoongi’s voice is much closer now. 

“Shut up!” Jimin barks and you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or Yoongi. “Just take it you filthy fucking whore,” he spits as he finally comes, spilling himself into you. 

“Oh shit,” Yoongi says, pushing your blindfold up off your eyes. “Are you okay?”

Blinking into the lights of the workshop, you are suddenly drowning in how much you are not okay. More tears are building in your eyes, blinding you to the expressions of either man. 

“She’s okay, right?” Jimin says, panting. “That’s what she wanted.”

“No…” you begin shaking your head. “No, no, no…”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Jimin asks.

“No, that’s not what I wanted!” Violent sobs wrack your body. “This is not who I am! None of this is how it’s supposed to be.” 

“Oh god,” Jimin’s voice is shaky. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know.” He’s backing away, seeming to grow paler in complexion as he goes. 

“Jimin, get back here,” Yoongi barks. “Where are you going?”

You continue sobbing on the bench, knees drawn up to your chin. “I’m not a whore. I’m not. None of this is right.”

“Oh god, I can’t do this.” Jimin’s whole body is trembling. “I’m sorry.” And he turns and runs from the workshop. 

“Jimin!” Yoongi yells. “You can’t just leave!!” He moves to follow Jimin and your entire body screams out in pain at the idea of him leaving you right now. 

“Yoongi, no, don’t go.” You try to get down off the workbench but stumble and fall to the ground, shaking. “Don’t leave me.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Yoongi murmurs, rushing back to you. “No, I’m not leaving. I won’t leave you. I’m so sorry.”

You are too lost in your own self-loathing to even hear him. Jungkook shouting about all you wanted was seven cocks. Hoseok telling you you aren’t the same person you once were. It’s all too much. “I’m not… I’m not…” you cry, shivering on the ground. 

Something warm wraps around you. It’s Yoongi. “Shh…” he soothes. “‘You’re okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He drapes your jumpsuit over your shoulder and rubs his hands up and down your arms.

“What’s wrong with me?” Your head is fuzzy and you’re so cold.

“Nothing’s wrong with you.” Yoongi kisses the top of your head. 

“But why do I feel like this?” You curl your legs up, making yourself into a ball in Yoongi’s arms. 

“I think it might be sub-drop. Things got too intense too fast.” He tightens his arms around you. “God, you’re shivering.” 

“H-how do I make it go away?” 

He looks around the workbench, frowning. “Do you want me to take you back to your sleep pod?”

“No, no, please. I don’t want to be alone.” 

He nods. “Okay, okay, I have an idea.” He moves to get up. 

“No…” you grasp his shirt tighter. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “I’m coming right back, I promise.” You loosen your grip on him just enough for him to wiggle out of your grasp. 

You close your eyes to rest for a minute and are startled by a loud thump right next to you. Yoongi has thrown down a huge piece of foam and kevlar onto the floor beside you.

“Umm… what is that?” you ask.

“Uh,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s a piece of replacement insulation that I pulled out of storage. I use it to take naps sometimes.”

“Uhh…” you eye it warily. 

“It’s really comfortable, I promise.” He pulls a metallic space blanket out of a nearby drawer. “Can I show you?”

You nod. He kneels down next to you and slides his arms underneath you, lifting you up and carrying you over to the makeshift bed. “I think you just need some rest,” He says as he gingerly sets you down and begins tucking the blanket around you. 

You’re still shivering though. “Yoongi, I’m so cold. Please…”

He bites his lip nervously. “Some skin-to-skin contact might help. But maybe that’s the last thing you want right now…” 

“No, please, that’s what I want.”

He nods, then stands up, unzipping his jumpsuit but leaving his underwear on. “I swear, I’m not gonna try anything, it’s just for the warmth.”

You nod, pulling back the blanket for him. He slides in next to you, wrapping you into his arms again. 

You let out a deep sigh. He’s so warm. His bare skin is so warm and he smells so good. “Thank you,” you whisper. Your eyelids begin to droop as you snuggle in closer to him. 

He nods, nuzzling his face into your hair and giving you another small kiss on the top of your head. “You just rest now, okay?”

You nod, again, already fading out. You think you hear him whisper one last “I’m sorry,” into your hair before you fall asleep. 

________

Your head is resting on Yoongi’s bare chest when you wake up in the morning. Your head bobs up and down with his breath, his arms still wrapped around you. His hands are warm. One hand rests on your shoulder and the other is closed over your hand resting on his chest. He spent all night holding your hand. Your bare legs entangle with his beneath the blanket he draped over you yesterday. You’re entirely naked and he’s in only his underwear.

The rhythm of his breath pauses for a moment as you begin to move. But as you snuggle in toward him, kissing his chest, it resumes its steady pattern. His hand on your shoulder twirls soft spirals across your skin with his delicate and deliberate fingers. 

“How do you feel?” he asks. 

A huge grin spreads across your face as you press your cheek against his chest, positively giddy. Sleeping on an actual horizontal surface, wrapped in Yoongi’s arms, it’s the best rest you’ve had in years. “Amazing,” you answer. 

“Glad to hear it.” You feel him smile against the top of your head. His hand begins moving up and down your back and you arch against it, like a cat longing for affection. 

You’re a bit afraid to look at him, unsure what to say and unwilling to jeopardize the mood. But he places a finger under your chin and tips your head up to meet his eyes. 

His face is still a bit puffy from sleep, but his eyes are wide awake and intent, dark and focused entirely on you. His long dark hair hangs into his eyes and he shakes his head slightly to get it out of his face.  

Holy shit, you are so aroused. You had no idea you could be this aroused from some hand-holding and a back rub. Your core throbs where your leg is wrapped around his thigh.  He must feel how wet you are against him, but his hand doesn’t change pace as he moves up and down your back. The hand entangled with yours begins playing with your fingers and running over your knuckles. He’s exploring you, savoring you. 

“So…” you say, licking your lips and fighting the urge to squeeze his thigh more firmly between your legs. 

 “So…” he repeats, watching you. 

“So it’s Friday…” Your voice comes out all breathless. 

Everything moves so slowly. His eyes scan your face as he moves his hand from his chest to your chin. 

“And what do you want to do with your Friday?” he asks. 

“You once said that if you could have touched me, you would have kissed me.” He doesn’t answer, but his eyes get ever so slightly darker. “And you can touch me now.”

Slow as molasses, he leans in to you, tilting your head back as his lips meet yours. Like warm honey, he pours himself into you. Warmth radiates from his lips to your mouth and down your throat where his hand still rests. His hand spans from his fingertips along your jaw to his thumb between your breasts. 

Your lower lip quivers as he sucks it into his mouth. He’s so gentle and soft and you can’t really believe that it’s like this. You sigh contentedly against his lips. As his tongue enters your mouth, you can’t help squeezing your legs around his thigh. 

He groans, slotting his own leg up between your core and now things are going a bit too slow for your liking. You want to beg him to hurry the fuck up, but you settle for rocking your hips against his thigh instead. 

He gasps and finds a hold on your hip, stopping you. “Don’t rush me, woman.”

You whine and rock your hips again. 

“Now, now, none of that…” He rolls you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, slotting his leg even more firmly between yours. The weight of him on you makes you quiver again. He hasn’t stopped kissing you, continuing to savor you ever so slowly.

“Min Yoongi,” you gasp when he finally gives you a chance to breathe. “If you do not fuck me right now, I will throw you out of the airlock.” 

“Oh shit,” he stops and sits up slightly. “I forgot Namjoon needed me to unclog a toilet this morning.” He smirks and acts like he’s about to get up. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You grab him around the neck and drag him back down on top of you. Your legs lock around his waist as his cock presses against your cunt in a way that makes you positively mad, only the thin cloth of his underwear stopping you from what you want. “Get inside me this instant.”

He chuckles, rocking his hips so his cock rubs against your slit and clit. “Ask nicely,” he teases.

You groan with frustration and roll him over, climbing on top of him and straddling him. “God, I hate you,” you mutter as you wiggle down to pull off his underwear. 

He laughs, folding his arms behind his head. “No you don’t.”

You climb back up and kiss him again, laughing too. “No, I don’t.” 

You reach down to try to put him inside you, but he stops you, sliding his fingers inside you instead. You gasp. 

He smirks. “I’m either gonna hear you beg or I’m gonna hear you come before I fuck you.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” 

“I’m the best.” So fucking smug. All it takes is one long kiss pairing with those long fingers and you’re tipping over the edge. 

“That’s my girl,” he sighs as he finally eases himself into you. 

He keeps going with his same slow pace and doesn’t stop kissing you. He only breaks free from your kiss as he comes, sighing softly against your forehead. 

You can’t stop grinning as you curl into his chest again, sighing contentedly. Only then do you realize something important.

“Shit, Yoongi…”

He looks up at you confused.

“No one turned the gravity off.”

He looks around for a minute. “Oh shit, yeah… they must have left it on for us.”

You’re waiting for your appointment with the doctor, trying to calm the nervousness fluttering through you.

You pick up a magazine, flick it open, and stop at a picture of your beautiful husband.

Well, more precisely, your beautiful besuited husband at an event with his media director, his ex-model ex-girlfriend Park Gyuri.

She looks stunning, as always, but Yoongi draws your attention more. You rarely ever see candid pictures of him in the tabloids.

You look up, guiltily, as your name is called. You slide the magazine into your handbag and get up, heading to where the nurse is beckoning.

You’re trying to find a comfortable position to hold your handbag after your appointment, wondering if you should stop and pick up some pain meds, when a familiar voice catches your attention.

‘Always a pleasure,’ says Kim Seokjin, bowing slightly. 

As always, he looks perfect, from his beautifully styled hair to the tips of his Church’s loafers, hand-delivered from Europe.

You wonder idly if your blouse is buttoned correctly, but at the forefront of your mind is anxiety. 

Had he seen you come out of the clinic?

You decide to distract him.

You pull the magazine out of your handbag and hand it to him.

His gaze flickers over the picture of Yoongi with Park Gyuri.

‘Please, pet, you know Yoongi pays handsomely to keep photographs of you out of rags like this.’

Seokjin’s keen gaze searches your face. ‘He values your privacy and safety above all else. He doesn’t even make that sort of effort for himself, let alone anyone else.’

You know he’s being truthful. 

You’re about to agree when Seokjin asks, with calculated casualness, ‘What were you doing in that clinic?’

So he had seen you.

You look him straight in the eyes. ‘I’m thinking about getting a boob job.’

Seokjin scoffs. ‘Please, you can’t improve on perfection. Trust me, I’d know.’

Your whole face feels like it’s on fire.

‘Ah, you’re always so pretty when you’re caught out,’ Seokjin says, approvingly.

He holds open the door to his car. ‘Where should I drop you, pet?’

You hesitate. ‘At home?’

He studies your face.

‘Are you not feeling well?’

There’s gentleness in his tone now. For years Seokjin and you have had an adversarial relationship, but lately, that’s been tempered somewhat.

You still feel like you’re playing with fire when you see him, though.

‘No,’ you say, honestly. ‘I don’t feel well.’

Seokjin ushers you into his car, instructs the driver to head to your house, and hands you a bottle of water.

As you drink, he asks, quietly, ‘Should I call Yoongi?’

‘He’s in Osaka,’ you say. ‘He’ll be back in a few days. Don’t call him, he’s been stressed lately.’

Seokjin says, ‘He’s an idiot, but you’re the most important thing in the world to him. He wouldn’t think twice about dropping everything if you needed him.’

You lift your chin. ‘I’m perfectly capable of calling him if I need him.’

Seokjin raises a perfect eyebrow, but decides to drop it.

‘You know us chaebol men are all alike,’ he says. ‘If he’s not around to provide, I can.’

His tone is teasing, light, and your smile makes him visibly relax.

‘Stop flirting with me, I’m a married woman,’ you say.

‘Stop enjoying it, and I will,’ he replies.

He flashes you a smile of his own, and you fall into a companionable silence as his driver drives you home.

***

You know Yoongi’s back from Osaka but you haven’t seen any sign of him yet. 

You overslept after the events of yesterday, and in your haste to not be late for work you didn’t have a chance to look in the room he sometimes sleeps in when he gets in late and doesn’t want to disturb you.

Like you’d ever complain about being woken by your beautiful husband. 

He’d insisted months ago, after a string of late nights resulted in you getting into a minor traffic collision. 

You’re still convinced it wasn’t your fault. Or his.

You stifle a yawn as you land at your desk, just in time for a client meeting.

You check your phone as you wait for them to be shown in.

No messages.

Huh.

The pang of disappointment surprises you with its intensity. It’s been a while since you’ve felt anything but happy with Yoongi.

Three meetings and a hasty lunch at your desk later, he still hasn’t tried to contact you.

The old you would have called in a security threat, had his entire building evacuated, maybe bought out all the meals at his favourite restaurant so he couldn’t get his preferred lunch order, but you’re past that now.

You dial him, proud of yourself for being mature enough to fight against your childish impulses.

He answers on the first ring.

‘Can’t talk now,’ he says, brisk.

‘Ok, but —-‘

You’re still talking when you realise he’s hung up on you.

You blink and call again.

This time it goes straight to voicemail.

You stare at your screen in disbelief.

By the time your workday ends and there’s still no sign of Yoongi trying to contact you, the initial hurt you felt has been replaced by irritation.

Sure, you’re fine, but what if you hadn’t been?

You could be kidnapped by the mafia and he would have no idea.

You call Yoongi’s driver and instruct him to take Yoongi to the furthest part of the city you can think of, to pick you up. You know Yoongi would never complain about having to go miles out of his way, if he thought you needed him.

The extra hour or two you’ve bought yourself will give you enough time to execute the next part of your plan.

***

You can hear Yoongi arguing with the bodyguard you’ve hired, outside your door.

A moment later your phone lights up.

You let it ring out.

On the second call, you answer, mustering up your most nonchalant tone.

Yoongi says, clipped, ‘Why have you hired a bodyguard to protect you from me?’

‘Felt like it,’ you say.

‘Well, call him off, we need to talk.’

‘We needed to talk this afternoon,’ you reply, evenly. ‘When you hung up on me.’

Yoongi sighs. ‘Can’t you grant me any grace at all? I haven’t seen you in weeks, and I wanted to see you tonight.’

‘I don’t feel like it, Yoongi. I’ll see you tomorrow at the charity dinner.’

Yoongi sounds like he has more to say, but you swipe to end the call.

You thought you’d feel triumphant, but all you feel is sad.

***

You look at yourself in the mirror and try to muster up some enthusiasm. 

The black gown you chose at Yoongi’s request covers you somewhat, but you feel exposed anyway.

You turn away from your reflection, pick up your tiny bag and slip your shoes on mechanically.

You open your door, and he’s already there.

You’re face to face with your husband for the first time in weeks, and he’s a sight for sore eyes.

He’s gorgeous, as always, with his bespoke suiting and his beautifully styled dark hair, but it’s the look in his eyes that makes you feel oddly emotional.

You stare at his shoes, not wanting him to see how upset you are.

‘Hey,’ he says, quietly. He reaches out to grasp your arm, to pull you into a hug.

The feeling of him holding you makes your lip quiver. You realise you’re about to cry.

You close your eyes and lean into him.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he says, and with your head pressed to his chest you can feel the vibration of his voice.

‘I’ve missed you,’ you say, trying not to sniffle.

‘Hey, are you crying? I thought you were angry with me, you sent me across town on a wild goose chase yesterday and then you hired a bodyguard so I couldn’t even see you when I got back hours later. I should be the one crying, not you.’

The teasing note in his low voice makes you feel less guilty. 

‘You haven’t been this badly behaved in a while, maybe I’ve been away too long,’ he muses.

You look up and he’s looking back at you with such tenderness in his eyes that you can feel whatever annoyance you had with him melt away.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. ‘Old habits die hard.’

‘I’m just glad you didn’t steal my suit again tonight,’ he says. 

‘I thought about it,’ you admit. ‘But I don’t like to repeat myself.’ 

Yoongi laughs, and the kiss he gives you makes you feel better for the first time in ages.

‘Let’s try and get back early, I’m tired,’ he says.

‘So we can go to bed early?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

Yoongi raises a brow. ‘Yeah.’

He reaches down, runs his hand over the curve of your ass, like a promise.

***

Yoongi was taken off you by someone from his exec team as soon as you arrived, and you haven’t seen him since. You swirl your champagne in your glass, watching the bubbles float to the top, wishing you could look at your husband instead. 

You don’t even know where he is. 

The dinner seating plan is designed for maximum mingling, you would be upset except Kim Seokjin’s next to you. 

He reaches his seat just before the organiser’s speech, and you turn to greet him. 

‘Kiss me, I want to make her jealous,’ he says. 

‘Who?’ you ask, curious, but you give him a chaste peck on the perfect cheek he presents to you anyway.

‘No one, I just wanted a kiss,’ Seokjin admits. 

You’re torn between outrage and mirth, but in the end you laugh, and he rewards you with a blindingly pretty smile. 

‘Where’s Yoongi?’ you ask. 

‘There’s a crisis with the supply line, he’s getting his exec team ready for a delay with the new product,’ Seokjin says. 

You’re concerned. ‘Can I help him?’

‘You mean, apart from not sending him across the city and not hiring a bodyguard to stop him from seeing you?’ Seokjin asks. 

You feel a pang of guilt. ‘I can be good.’ 

‘Maybe tell him about what you were doing in that clinic,’ Seokjin suggests, deftly placing a bread roll on your side plate. 

‘You’re extremely annoying,’ you inform him, in case he doesn’t already know. 

‘I also told you guys to stop involving me in your problems,’ Seokjin says. 

‘It’s probably nothing,’ you say. 

Seokjin turns to you sharply. ‘What’s probably nothing, pet?’

He studies your face. 

‘I’ve told Yoongi so many times, if he just let me punish you like the brat you are, you’d be much better behaved,’ he murmurs. 

‘Shut up, you’re not the boss of me,’ is the only thing you can think of to say.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. ‘Just let me eat dinner in peace.’ 

You reach out and take the bread roll off his plate. 

Seokjin shrugs. ‘Want another?’

You wait as the waiter deposits a plate of beautifully presented cress and caviar in front of you. 

‘How did I end up next to you,’ you grumble. 

‘Obviously I paid for you to be next to me. Yoongi’s at the next table, in case you haven’t spotted him yet.’ 

You turn so quickly Seokjin laughs. 

He’s not lying. Your gorgeous husband is sitting to the left, a table away. He sits back in his seat, and your eyes meet.

You want to be with him so badly you could cry.

Yoongi gestures to your plate. ‘Eat,’ he mouths at you.

You pick at your food. The truth is, you’ve been so on edge lately that you haven’t felt like eating.

You steal another glance at Yoongi, but he’s talking to the exec he’s sitting next to, dark brows pulled into a frown. He rubs the back of his neck.

‘He looks tired,’ you note, to no one in particular.

Beside you, Seokjin says, mildly. ‘Eat, or I’ll feed you.’’

You pick up your fork when it looks like he’s about to reach for it.

***

After dinner you search the room for Yoongi. You find him surrounded by his team, but you miss him so much you enter the fray and walk right up to him.

Yoongi lets you grasp his hand, but his entire posture is tense.

‘I’m sorry I’ve been such bad company,’ he murmurs to you. ‘There’s been a crisis with —‘

‘It’s ok,’ you say, squeezing his hand. ‘I might go, I’m a little tired.’

Yoongi says, ‘Mr Gyu can drive you home. I’ll be back late, don’t wait up.’

‘I won’t, as long as you promise me you’ll join me in bed later.’

You glance at him hopefully. 

Yoongi says, ‘Are you sure? I’ll be really late.’

‘Please, Yoongi.’

Yoongi’s expression softens at your tone. ‘I’ll come,’ he promises. 

You want to say more, but he’s already turned away.

***

You wake to early morning sunshine and your husband’s arm curled around you.

You’ll never tire of looking at his face. In repose, his dark brows are unfurrowed, his lashes longer than you’d expect, his lips full and soft.

Without opening his eyes, he murmurs, ‘Stop staring at me.’

You’re startled, a little embarrassed that you’ve been caught admiring him.

He just chuckles, his deep voice pitched even lower at this time of the morning, raspy with sleep. 

‘Don’t pout, jagiya,’ he says, teasingly. ‘You know I can’t resist you when you pout, and I can’t be late for work today.’

You bury your face in your pillow to cool the burning in your cheeks. 

Yoongi stretches, and he drops a kiss on the back of your head. 

‘Do you want to meet for lunch?’ he asks, sitting up, his back to you.

‘Let me check my schedule,’ you say, haughty.

You lift your phone like you’re actually checking even though you’re free all day, and a message pings into your inbox.

Appointment with Dr Lee, 12 noon.

It’s an unpleasant jolt, a reminder of the test you’d managed to forget.

You shove your phone under your pillow.

‘I can’t make it today,’ you say, hoping your voice sounds steady. ‘I’m having lunch with Nara. Maybe dinner?’

Yoongi’s turned to look at you, but you’re too rattled to talk to him.

Anxiety blooms in your chest. You pick up your robe and head for your bathroom before he can say anything else.

***

Another day, another wait.

You return the magazine you stole the last time you were here, but are too wound up to pick up another.

You clutch the handle of your bag tightly, watching your knuckles turn white.

You stare blindly at the poster on the wall in front of you.

Even now, at the height of your anxiety, you wonder where Yoongi is, if he found someone else to have lunch with.

You close your eyes, reminding yourself to breathe.

The bench you’re sitting on shifts as someone takes a seat beside you.

Someone says your name, but instead of coming from the consulting room like you expected, it comes from beside you.

You know that voice.

Your eyes fly open, and you come face to face with your beautiful husband, dressed in the suit he picked out this morning for work.

He tilts his head, his dark eyes fixed on your face. 

‘Want to tell me why you’re sitting in a doctor’s office in the middle of the day?’

You don’t know if you can talk, but he reaches out, and grasps your hand in his.

You turn your body towards his, and he’s already reaching out for you, engulfing you in the hug you’ve wanted since he left for Osaka and you found the lump in your breast. 

‘Yoongi,’ you breathe. You close your eyes, and his arms tighten around you. 

The words fall out of you then, how you found the lump, went to the doctor’s appointment hoping to be told it was nothing, how Dr Lee had insisted on doing a biopsy instead. How you’ve been waiting for the results.

As you speak, Yoongi says nothing, but he’s listening so intently you’re pretty sure he hasn’t missed anything.

Finally, he sits back. There’s a weight to his posture that wasn’t there before.

He opens his mouth, but you’re interrupted by your name being called.

‘I should —-‘

‘Can I come in, with you?’ Yoongi asks. 

You’re glad for his steady presence beside you as you walk into Dr Lee’s office and take your seat. 

‘It’s benign,’ she says, no preamble, granting you the kindness of not having to sit through the small talk.

You let out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and for the first time in a week, the tightness in your chest eases.

‘Of course, with your family history, you’ll need regular checkups, but for now, you don’t need to worry,’ Dr Lee continues.

Your mother had died from breast cancer. You’re not sure if Yoongi knew.

‘While you’re here, I’ll check on your biopsy site.’

You wince as Dr Lee checks your wound, not from pain, but because of the bruising marking your skin.

‘It’s healing nicely,’ Dr Lee says, reassuringly. ‘In a few days all this bruising will fade.’

You glance worriedly at Yoongi, just in time to see his jaw clench.

You make a follow up appointment and leave the clinic feeling like a great weight’s dropped off your shoulders.

‘Oh my bag,’ you remember.

‘I’ve got it,’ Yoongi says, clipped. ‘You shouldn’t be carrying anything. I saw how bruised you are.’

You frown doubtfully at the tiny bag you brought in this season’s micro size.

‘My bag’s quite light,’ you say, reaching for it.

‘I’ve got it,’ Yoongi says. He stares at you, brows furrowed, until you acquiesce.

‘Do you have time for lunch?’ you ask hopefully.

‘No. I’m taking you straight home.’

It’s your turn to stare at your husband’s retreating back as he walks to where Mr Gyu’s waiting.

‘But I’m hungry,’ you say, hurrying to catch up. ‘I haven’t eaten anything all day.’

Yoongi snorts as he ushers you into the car. ‘You didn’t eat anything at the dinner last night either.’

‘You noticed,’ you say, a question in your voice.

Yoongi hands you a bottle of water he’s just uncapped. ‘Tell me what you want and I’ll get it delivered.’

‘Don’t you have work?’ you wonder.

Yoongi just glowers at you as he makes a phone call.

You sip your water as Yoongi tells his exec team that he won’t be coming back in and to crack on with their tasks. 

He turns back to you. 

‘The food will be ready when we get home. After you eat, we’re going to talk.’

You say, a sulk in your voice, ‘I’d rather fuck.’

Yoongi says sternly, ‘You’re bruised. I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘I don’t mind a little pain,’ you mutter under your breath.

Yoong’s still scowling at you, but the corner of his mouth turns up at your words.

‘Why did I have to find out from Kim Seokjin that you were at the doctor’s,’ he asks.

‘I didn’t tell him,’ you say, petulant. ‘He snuck up on me.’

Instead of snapping back, Yoongi sighs. 

He asks, quietly, ‘Do you find it difficult to talk to me, jagiya? Was I away too much?’

The tiredness in his voice gives you pause.

‘I was scared,’ you admit. You can’t bring yourself to say anything else.

Yoongi reaches for your hand. ‘Be scared with me,’ he says. ‘Let me share the weight.’

You stare at his fingers, intertwined with yours.

‘You’ve got important things to do, Yoongi.’

He says, irritably, ‘There is nothing more important to me than you. You know that.’

Your eyes meet. 

‘I’ll share my burdens too,’ he says. ‘If you want I can tell you all about the pressures the company is facing. I can tell you about how I was worried when Seokjin told me he saw you in the clinic.’

He pauses. ‘I can tell you about how I discovered your latest plot to sabotage me.’

‘I don’t do that anymore,’ you begin, but you stop when he raises a brow at you.

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘So your interest in my favourite bistro is because you have my best interests at heart?’

You say, hotly, ‘Who snitched?’

He looks like he’s suppressing a smile, and he leans over unexpectedly to kiss you.

You’re silenced.

‘More,’ you murmur, when he pulls away.

‘Always,’ he promises, kissing you again. ‘Always.’

He’s gentler than usual, his lips warm on yours. The faint scent of his woodsy aftershave is so familiar you could cry. 

You don’t realise the car’s stopped until he pulls away, breathing a little ragged. 

‘We’re home.’

He places a hand on the small of your back to help you out of the car.

***

You fell asleep with your head in Yoongi’s lap whilst he read work documents, but when you wake, he’s gone.

You sit up, the soft blanket he must have placed over you sliding off your shoulders, and look around.

There’s no sign of him.

You wonder if he went to work after all.

You’re heading for your joint walk-in wardrobe when you see him.

He’s got his back to you, and he’s facing out the full length window, staring out at the wintry day.

‘Yoongi?’

He doesn’t turn. 

A little worried, you approach him. ‘Yoongi?’

He turns then, to face you. 

‘Dr Lee, she’s the best, isn’t she?’

It takes you a moment to realise what he’s asking.

‘Yes,’ you say, hesitant. ‘She’s the best oncologist in the city.’

‘You’re sure,’ he says, mouth flattening into a straight line. 

‘Yes,’ you reply. ‘She knew my parents.’

Yoongi’s eyes are unreadable. ‘It’s just that—‘

He stops abruptly, runs a hand through his hair, and you notice how rumpled he looks. 

He’s still in his suit, but his hair’s mussed, his collar’s askew and his top two buttons are undone.

Your usually beautifully groomed husband looks more unkempt than you’ve ever seen him.

Warmth blooms in your chest.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, slowly, realisation dawning. ‘Are you worried about me?’

He stares at you like you’re the one behaving erratically.

‘I’m just making sure you’re well looked after. You are my wife,’ he says, coolly.

You step forward and look into his eyes.

‘You’re worried. About me.’

You can’t keep the delight out of your tone.

Yoongi looks exasperated. ‘Like I said, I just want to make sure —-‘

You twirl around, stubbing your toe on the marble island in the middle of the wardrobe.

‘Ouch!’

Yoongi’s on you before you can take a breath. 

‘Where. Where do you hurt,’ he asks, hands patting you down frantically. 

He’s got his phone out. ‘I’m calling Dr Lee.’

‘I stubbed my toe,’ you explain breathlessly, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. ‘And you’re worried about me!’

Yoongi huffs out a breath. ‘You’re impossible.’

He pockets his phone. 

You look at him hopefully.

Finally, he says, irritably, ‘Of course I’m worried. You went to an important doctor’s appointment without telling me. You had a medical procedure. You went alone today even though I was right there and you only had to ask.’

‘You have that important deal,’ you say, ‘I didn’t want to distract you.’

‘Fuck that,’ Yoongi says with a vehemence that surprises you. ‘Fuck all that. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and I can’t—-‘

He breaks off, and you hold your breath. 

‘I can’t lose you,’ he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it.

You hold out your arms, and he steps into your embrace. It hadn’t occurred to you until now that your stoic, unemotional husband, had needed a hug just as badly as you had.

He curls into you, sending you onto your tiptoes as you keep your arms around his shoulders, and it’s the best you’ve felt all day.

‘Don’t worry, husband, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be annoying you for years to come,’ you promise.

Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he laughs. ‘Don’t even joke about leaving me,’ he says.

You press your face to his. ‘Yoongi, are you crying?’

He scoffs. ‘Of course not.’

You pout. ‘You wouldn’t cry over me?’

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. ‘Stop pouting.’

You’re formulating a response when he leans in to kiss you.

His kiss, unlike earlier, is hungry, his mouth on yours like he’s relearning the shape of your lips, how you taste.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, breathlessly, between kisses, as he walks you backward onto the marble island.

‘Climb on,’ he utters, his voice deep like it always is when you’re in bed together, making you shiver with anticipation.

You lift yourself onto the counter, Yoongi’s large hands cupping your butt to help you like he can’t wait for you to do it yourself.

He slides a hand up your skirt, lifting it up, baring your thigh.

He leans down to kiss his way up your inner thigh, his face coming so close to the edge of your underwear that you moan without meaning to.

He looks up at you, mocking. ‘I can see you’re wet, already,’ he says. ‘Have you missed me?’

‘Shut up,’ you say, but he just laughs. 

‘Don’t worry, love, you’ll make enough noise for the both of us,’ he says, with an arrogance that makes you both enraged and aroused.

Yoongi’s hand stays on your thigh, fingers splayed, as he goes back to kissing you. His tongue licks into your mouth, and you moan again.

He hums his approval, licking into you again before kissing down your neck. 

His free hand comes up to unbutton your blouse, and you stiffen.

He responds instantly, pulling back a little to see your face, hand stilling on your button. 

‘It looks bad,’ you remind him, ‘maybe in a few days…’

Yoongi says, with a sincerity that makes you fall in love with him all over again, ‘You are always perfect.’

He unbuttons your blouse with care, and kisses over your skin.

‘Are you sore?’ he asks. 

‘No,’ you tell him, and he nods.

His thumb rolls over your nipple, and even through your bra the sensation makes you sigh.

He hooks the fingertips of his other hand under the edge of your panties.

You’re wet, you have been since he started kissing you, and you can feel Yoongi’s smirk, but you can’t be upset about it when he shifts his hand so that the pad of his thumb presses firmly against your clit.

Your thighs squeeze together over his hand.

‘Are you gonna come already?’ he teases.

‘No,’ you moan.

‘Good, wait for me, ok?’

Yoongi dips his head to suck the tip of your breast into his mouth, and your hips move of their own accord.

‘Yoongi!’

He presses his fingers into you, thumb stroking your clit, and you almost come at the invasion, your cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Yoongi’s tongue swirls over your peaked nipple, teasing.

He lifts his head. ‘You’re going to come, aren’t you?’

‘No,’ you say, defiant.

‘Yeah you are.’

Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you, and you cry out.

He undoes his belt, unzips, and the sight of the bulge in his boxer briefs makes you bite your lip.

‘You’re going to come when I get inside you, like a good girl, ok?’

Yoongi pushes you so you’re flat on the counter, shoulderblades kissing the marble. He grips your thighs, and you curl your fingers over his as he enters you.

He slides into you like a key sliding into a lock. All it takes is another swipe of his thumb over your clit and you’re coming, moaning your husband’s name.

‘Good girl,’ he praises, voice taut. ‘Good fucking girl.’

Your husband fucks you until you’re crying his name, pumps you full of his come until you can’t remember what it was you were ever angry with him about.

Then he puts his favourite t-shirt on you and takes you to your bed.

You’re falling asleep in the crisp sheets, but you need to know.

‘Yoongi,’ you ask, drowsy. 

‘Hmm?’

‘You were worried, weren’t you?’

Yoongi’s quiet for so long you’re almost asleep by the time he answers. 

‘I was,’ he admits. 

‘Knew it.’

Yoongi holds your hand.

‘Since I’m admitting things, I nearly cried, too,’ he says, truthfully.

You laugh and turn over, face in the sheets like how you always sleep. Yoongi doesn’t know if you believe him or not.

He thinks you say his name, but it’s soft, and it could just be your breathing.

He holds your hand against his chest, over his heart, until he falls asleep too.

Yoongi’s gaze flickers briefly toward the tray, then back to you. “You keep saying that,” he says, his tone low but not unkind, “you think it’ll make us trust you?”

The words catch you off guard. “I just think it’s better than starving.”

He studies you for a long moment, eyes narrowing just a little, as if searching for the catch. “You humans and your kindness,” he mutters. “It always comes with a price.”

You bite the inside of your cheek before answering. “If there’s a price, it’s just making sure no one dies in my house.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. 

Finally, Yoongi exhales, shifting slightly in the sheets. “We didn’t ask to be here.”

“I know,” you reply. “But you are. And until you can walk without looking like you’re about to pass out, it kinda looks like you’re staying.”

He studies you for a long moment, eyes narrowing just a little. When he finally looks away, you can’t tell if it’s in acceptance or restraint.

Finally he breaks the silence. “You shouldn’t keep the curtains open,” he says quietly. “Too easy to spot movement from outside.”

You glance toward the thin strip of light spilling through the gap in the fabric. “Are you saying someone’s watching?”

He shrugs, “they could be. You have two hybrids in your house. I’m sure you’re smart enough to tell we were being hunted.”

You swallow hard and force yourself to breathe evenly. The word hunted sits heavy in the air.

“Then I’ll close them,” you say softly, and move to do just that.

Neither stops you. But you can feel their eyes follow you until the very last sliver of daylight disappears behind the fabric.

You gulp before turning back around, “who’s hunting you?” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away. He looks tired, worn in a way that no amount of sleep could fix. “If you’re lucky,” he says, voice quiet enough to barely carry, “you won’t have to find out.”

The room falls silent again. Only the soft tick of the clock fills the air, slow and steady. You think about the untouched food, the drawn curtains, the way Taehyung hasn’t taken his eyes off the window.

Then, cutting through the heavy quiet, comes a low, unmistakable sound.

Your eyes flick toward Yoongi. His stomach growls softly, breaking the silence like a fragile thread snapping.

He exhales through his nose, almost embarrassed, looking away. “Ignore that,” he mutters.

You blink. “You haven’t eaten since you got here.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” you say before you can stop yourself. “I can practically hear your stomach begging you to be reasonable.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t answer.

From the corner, Taehyung lifts his head slightly, golden eyes watching the exchange with quiet awareness. His tail flicks once, slow and deliberate, like he’s judging the situation and finding both of you equally foolish.

You cross your arms. “You don’t have to trust me. But at least trust the fact that you’re still alive because I didn’t let you die in my shed.”

Yoongi’s gaze meets yours again, sharp despite the fatigue in it. “And what do you expect me to do? Sit here and pretend everything’s normal? That you’re helping out of kindness?”

“I expect you to eat,” you say simply. “That’s it.”

For a long moment, neither of you move. The sound of the clock down the hall ticks faintly between your words.

Finally, Yoongi sighs. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

You send him a smile, “nope. If you’re gonna be here awhile you’re gonna have to get used to it.”

His eyes narrow, but in the next moment he reaches out for the bowl of ramen on the tray. His hand trembles just slightly as he lifts it, and you notice him glance toward Taehyung before taking a small cautious sip.

Taehyung’s ears twitch, but he doesn’t move closer. He just keeps watching, chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

For a while, the only sound in the room is the faint clink of the spoon against the bowl. Yoongi doesn’t eat much, but it’s more than nothing and for now, that’s enough for you. You watch the lines in his face ease slightly as the warmth settles into him.

Then, from beside the bed, there’s a low huff.

You turn, and there’s Taehyung. You hadn’t realized he hopped off the bed until he’s right next to you. His fur brushing lightly against your leg as he nudges you with the side of his head. The movement startles you at first but there’s no aggression in it. Just a slow, deliberate push, like he’s trying to get your attention.

You blink, unsure what to do, “what is it?”

Yoongi makes a low sound that might be a sigh. “He wants you to feed him.”

You glance between them. “You’re serious?”

Yoongi lifts one shoulder lazily, leaning back against the wall.

You look back at Taehyung. His eyes meet yours and then he nudges the tray of food gently with his nose, a soft rumble vibrating in his chest.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re just one giant house cat,” you mutter under your breath, reaching for the plate.

You hold out two strips of bacon, and he moves forward with surprising gentleness for something so large. His nose brushes your fingers before he takes it carefully like he knows he could hurt you if he’s not. His tongue grazes your hand, warm and rough, before he pulls back to chew.

Another quiet rumble rises from his chest, deep and content.

“See?” you murmur, handing him another piece. “Not so scary when you’re fed.”

Yoongi watches from the bed, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t get too comfortable with him,” he says after a moment. “He’s still a predator.”

You glance up at him. “So are you.” 

For a heartbeat, neither of you look away. Then Yoongi exhales softly, looking toward the window instead.

Taehyung finishes the last piece and nudges your hand once more, a quiet, grateful sound rumbling low in his throat.

You can’t help the faint smile that slips through. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.” You brush your fingers against his fur; “by the way… why is he a tiger?” you finally ask, glancing at Yoongi. “I thought hybrids were… half human, half animal.”

Yoongi leans back against the pillows. “We can shapeshift,” he says simply. “I’m just too weak right now to shift. It takes too much energy.”

You frown, glancing at Taehyung. “So… he’s keeping this form because he doesn't want to change?”

Yoongi nods slowly. “We’re stronger in our animal form. Sometimes we choose to stay in these forms because we’re scared.”

You glance at Yoongi, his golden eyes fixed on you, sharp and probing despite the fatigue and fever that still lingers in his features. Taehyung’s massive head rests lightly against the floor by your feet.

“Why are you helping us?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence

You blink caught off guard by the question, setting the plate down slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. “Because… I’m a nurse,” you say, voice tentative but steady. “It’s what I do. I don’t care what species you are. Hurt people need help. That’s it.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. The silence stretches again, heavy and cautious, punctuated only by the soft hiss of the wind outside. You can feel the weight of his scrutiny, but it doesn’t feel hostile. Just… uncertain.

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind. 

You push yourself up slowly, stretching your legs. “I’m going outside for a bit,” you say, your voice careful, almost casual.

You glance at him, then at Taehyung who’s still lying low, watching. “I need to clean the blood from the shed. If someone’s been hunting you… having that out there isn’t helping anyone. We’re practically asking for them to come find you.”

His eyes widen in surprise. Taehyung, still in his tiger form, shifts slightly, ears pricked forward. Neither of them expected you to care this much.

You don’t notice their reactions, too focused on creating a mental checklist on what to buy from the store. 

Yoongi’s voice, quieter than usual, cuts through the air: “You… really mean that?”

You pause, rags in hand, and glance toward the window. “I mean it,” you reply firmly. “I don’t know who’s out there, but I’m not leaving this for them to find.”

The quiet that follows is telling. Even Taehyung doesn’t move, his massive head tilting slightly as if trying to process that a human—you—would care enough to act, even for hybrids like them.

You step out, shutting the guest room door behind you with care, leaving them watching from the safety of the room. The crisp morning air hits your face, filling your lungs as you move toward the shed. Every footstep feels deliberate, not just because of the blood you’re about to clean, but because you know they’re watching, waiting to see if you’ll actually follow through.

By the time you reach the shed, the full weight of the situation hits. “Okay,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, “let’s get this done.”

You kneel to inspect them, frowning. The wood’s rough texture has already absorbed too much. You realize you don’t have everything you need. All you had was a rag and some dish soap. No hydrogen peroxide, no scrub brush, nothing to really get it deep into the wood grain.

Still, you do your best. Dipping the rag into soapy water, you scrub at the worst spots, rinsing and wringing repeatedly. It doesn’t disappear completely, but at least the surface looks cleaner, and the sharp metallic smell fades slightly. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than leaving it untouched.

A sigh escapes you. Looks like a trip to the store is unavoidable. You glance back toward the window where Yoongi and Taehyung watch silently. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in an hour,” you call, trying to keep your voice calm, though your stomach knots at the thought of leaving them even for a few minutes.

The two of them remain still, their eyes tracking your movements as you head toward the car, determined to come back armed with the right tools to erase every trace.

The drive to the store is quiet. By the time you park, you’ve already made a mental list: bleach, gloves, scrub brush, disinfectant spray. Everything that will let you clean the shed properly without leaving traces behind.

You step through the sliding doors of the store, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. A part of you can’t help but glance around nervously. Each aisle feels like it could be a stage, every other shopper a silent observer of your secret.

Grabbing a shopping cart, you start moving down the cleaning aisle. Bleach, disinfectant spray, hydroxide—you check off the items quickly. You mutter under your breath, “god, I hope no one thinks I’m covering up a murder scene…”

Pushing the cart toward the meat section, your mind drifts back to Yoongi and Taehyung. Not that you need to worry about normal grocery decisions for yourself, but… what kind of meat does a panther like Yoongi prefer? Or a tiger like Taehyung? You stare at the rows of beef, chicken, and pork, trying to imagine what would appeal to them in their current state.

Yoongi, still weak, probably won’t have a big appetite but you want something he can actually eat. Something familiar, something that will make him feel a little more like himself. 

You pick up a few pounds of steak and some raw chicken. You pause, feeling a sense of surrealism. Shopping for meat for wild creatures in your own house wasn’t something you ever imagined you’d be doing.

Just as you reach for a package of chicken, two men step into your aisle. Their uniforms catch the fluorescent light, and your stomach drops. 

One of them steps closer, eyes scanning you carefully. “Evening,” he says, voice clipped. “Do you live around here?”

You nod, keeping your tone calm. “Yeah, just down the street,” you lie.

The other man tilts his head, studying you carefully. “We had reports of large animals. Seen or heard near your property?”

You tilt your head, “large animals? You mean like large wild animals?”

They exchange a quick glance. “Yeah exactly. It’s nothing to worry about but you see we just wanted to ask a few questions.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, but you keep your expression neutral. “I understand,” you say evenly. “Ask away.”

The taller man leans slightly closer, his eyes scanning you with a measured curiosity. “Did you notice anything unusual around here lately? Any signs of large animals that aren’t native in these parts of the world?”

You shrug, keeping your tone calm. “No. I haven’t seen anything like that. Just shopping, that’s all.”

His partner flips open a small notebook, jotting something down. “And you’re certain? No sounds, no tracks, nothing odd?”

“I’m certain,” you reply, keeping your hands visible on the counter. “I didn’t see anything.”

The men exchange a brief look, then nod. “Alright. Thank you Miss.”

You offer a polite nod. “Of course.”

You keep your distance, pretending to browse the meat, but your eyes follow them. The two men approach another shopper, asking similar questions. You notice the person flinch slightly at their presence, but quickly nod and answer.

You let out a quiet breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders easing slightly. Glancing back at the meat section, your focus sharpens. The stakes are higher than ever, but for now, the men have moved on, and your priorities are clear: pick the right food and get back to Yoongi and Taehyung.

You shove the last grocery bag into the trunk, the plastic crackling under your hands. You pull out of the parking lot and onto the road leading toward the outskirts of town. The city slowly fades behind you, replaced by fields, then scattered houses, then the familiar thick wall of forest that closes in around the winding road.

You thought the drive home would be uneventful. That was until something massive lunged from the trees.

“Shit—!”

You slam the brakes.

Your car screeches. Your body snaps forward, seatbelt digging into your chest. You can hear what sound like all of your groceries tumbling in the back seat.

But you barely pay any attention to that. Because right in front of your car stands a bear

Your heart stops. Sure you live in the woods but you’ve never come across an actual bear before. 

The bear turns his head slowly toward you. And your eyes lock. That’s when it dawns on you.

This isn’t a wild animal staring at your car. This is something intelligent. Something aware. And that’s when you see it—

The unmistakable glint of metal tag, one that looked identical to the one you found in your backyard.

Your breath catches.

Then, without warning, he darts across the rest of the road and disappears into the trees, his massive form swallowed by the underbrush.

You sit there in the middle of the lane, stunned, hands trembling against the steering wheel.

“Am I dreaming?” you breathe, voice barely audible. But the skid marks on the road say otherwise. Before you can piece your thoughts together, branches snap loudly from the same direction the bear came.

You tense, expecting another big animal to make an appearance. 

Two men burst out from between the trees, panting hard, their clothes snagged with twigs and leaves. You narrow your eyes, those aren’t officers, or trackers, or anyone official-looking.

Just regular men. Late thirties maybe. Work boots.

One spits into the dirt. “I told you it went this way,” he huffs.

The other mutters, “Damn thing’s faster than it looks…”

As they straighten up, one of them finally notices your car. A clear view of your pale face behind the windshield along with your car angled awkwardly across the road.

He nudges his friend and points toward you. The men exchange a quick look before walking toward your car, not slowly, not cautiously.

Your pulse spikes.

One of them stops by your window, leaning down just enough for you to see the sweat on his forehead. He gently knocks at your window, motioning for you to roll it down. You open your window just a crack, just enough to communicate without your whole face being exposed.

“Evening Miss,” he says, trying to sound casual but failing. “You, uh… you see something run through here just now?”

The other man stays a few steps back, scanning the trees, looking impatient, like they’re terrified of losing the trail.

Your hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles pale against the leather. The two men stare at you, waiting for your answer.

You force your voice out, thin but steady enough. “I… yeah. I saw a bear.”

The men exchange a look and something about that expression makes your stomach twist.

But in that split second, an image flashes through your mind:

The silver tag glinting at the bear’s neck. 

You glance at the woods, heart hammering. If you tell them the truth, they’ll cut straight into the brush where he vanished. They’ll find him. They’ll corner him. And they won’t treat him like anything but a trophy.

You lift a shaky hand and gesture in the opposite direction of where the bear actually fled.

“I think it ran that way,” you say, pointing down the road, toward a shallow ditch.

The men whip their heads in that direction. “You sure?” the taller one asks.

“Yeah. Positive. He almost hit my car and bolted that way.”

They don’t question it further.

The shorter man exhales hard. “Damn. We must’ve scared him off. Thanks for the heads-up.”

You nod quickly, hoping your face doesn’t betray what a bad liar you are.

“Be careful driving,” the taller one adds. “Don’t wanna hit the thing if it circles back.”

Then they hurry off, not into the woods where you saw the hybrid disappear… But down the road in the direction you pointed.

Their heavy boots thud against the pavement, echoing until they fade into the distance. Only when they’re gone, when the forest is quiet again and the road is empty, do you finally let out the breath you’d been holding.

You tell yourself you need to keep moving and get back home. You reach for the gear shift, ready to pull forward, when something on the pavement ahead of your bumper catches the light.

You lean forward, squinting through the windshield. A small metal item lies on the asphalt, reflecting a thin stripe of sunlight. 

It’s the tag.

The same one you saw hanging from the bear’s neck only moments ago, and the same style as the tag you found in your backyard the day Yoongi and Taehyung first appeared. Your heart sinks with the realization that he must have lost it in the scramble across the road.

You put the car in park and step out carefully, the gravel crunching beneath your shoes as you walk toward it. When you crouch down, the metal feels faintly warm from the animal’s body heat. You turn it over in your hand and recognize the faint scratches and worn edges you had seen before. It truly is the same tag.

However, something new catches your attention. When you flip it to the back, an engraving you didn’t notice before stares up at you. A clean, deliberate marking that stands out sharply against the metal surface: 903.

You stare at the number for a long moment, unsure how to process it. The inscription looks official and systematic. Whoever this bear is, someone assigned him a number. Someone gave him this identifier. 

Standing in the quiet road with the metal tag clenched in your hand, you feel a shifting awareness settle over you. Whatever is happening with hybrids is far more organized and far more unsettling than you initially understood. The idea that these creatures are being cataloged or controlled in some way makes your skin prickle.

You finally straighten, the forest still pressing in around you. The bear is long gone, lost somewhere among the trees, but the lingering impression in his eyes stays with you in a way you can’t shake. You take a slow, steady breath, glance once more into the woods, and hold the tag tightly before returning to your car.

Once your hands stop trembling enough to hold the wheel, you start the engine again. The tires roll slowly over the asphalt as you ease back onto the road, casting one last glance at the tree line. 

As your house finally comes into view through the trees, your chest tightens. You don’t see anything unusual from the outside, but you still feel the lingering tension of earlier events prickling along your skin. You pull into the driveway, kill the engine, and glance again at the silver tag sitting on the passenger seat. The number 903 reflects faintly in the dim light.

You grab the groceries, tuck the tag safely into your pocket, and step out of the car with a single thought running through your mind.

You need to check on Yoongi and Taehyung before anything else happens.

You unlock the door and slip inside, closing it behind you as quietly as possible.

You set the grocery bags down in the kitchen, not bothering to put anything away yet. Your focus is fixed on the hallway leading to the guest room.

Your footsteps soften instinctively as you make your way down the hall. The closer you get, the more aware you become of the tension coiling in your stomach. What if they tried to leave, even in their condition? What if the hunters followed the scent? What if something happened while you were gone?

You reach the guest room door and pause for a moment, your fingers brushing the handle. You push the door open gently.

The room is still cool, shadows stretching across the floor. Yoongi is awake, still propped against the wall. His eyes lift immediately when you enter.

Taehyung is lying near the bed, still in his tiger form. His ears twitch the moment the hinges creak, and his head lifts. Golden eyes fixed on you as if scanning you from head to toe for any sign of injury.

You take one step inside and Yoongi’s gaze sharpens. “You took longer than you said you would,” he grumbles.

You close the door behind you. “I know I’m sorry. Something happened on the way here.”

Yoongi studies your expression, his eyes narrowing slightly at the tension in your shoulders.

Before he can ask anything else, there’s a low, rumbling sound beside the bed.

Taehyung slowly pushes himself up from his resting spot, wincing a little but determined. His tiger form is massive up close, and the sudden movement makes your breath catch for a moment. You still aren’t completely used to having a creature his size so near, especially one capable of flattening you with a single swipe if he ever wanted to.

But instead of acting threatening, he pads toward you with slow, deliberate steps. His head lowers, his whiskers brushing your hip as he starts sniffing around your side.

You stiffen, confused, your hand hovering uncertainly in the air. “What… what are you doing?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, of course, but he nudges more insistently at your pocket. His ears flick in concentration, nostrils flaring as he inhales again, deeper this time. Yoongi watches the scene from the bed, his brows pulling together.

Taehyung nudges your pocket once more, then lets out a low rumble that sounds almost impatient.

Only then does realization strike you.

You reach inside, fingers closing around the cool piece of metal you almost forgot was there. When you pull the tag out and hold it up, Taehyung’s pupils expand immediately, his tail going still behind him.

Yoongi doesn’t react at first.

But then he sees the tag fully.

His eyes widened.

The change is subtle but unmistakable. “Where,” Yoongi says quietly, “did you get that?”

You glance between him and the tag, suddenly getting nervous at how shaken he suddenly looks. “I… found it on the road. A bear ran in front of my car and dropped it. I think it’s the same one I saw in the yard before.”

Yoongi’s stare doesn’t soften.

If anything, it grows heavier.

Yoongi doesn’t move at first. He simply stares at the tag in your hand as if the sight of it reaches somewhere far deeper than pain or exhaustion. 

Taehyung steps closer, lowering his head beside your hand. He sniffs the metal again, and a low, uneasy rumble vibrates through his chest. It isn’t aggressive; it sounds like recognition laced with worry.

Yoongi’s hands tighten in the sheets. His voice, when it finally comes, is quiet in a way that feels almost dangerous. “That tag…” He swallows, his jaw tense. “It belonged to one of my brothers.”

The words settle heavily in the room.

Your breath catches. “Your brother?”

Yoongi nods slowly, eyes locked on the tag. “There were seven of us.” His gaze softens for the briefest moment, though the exhaustion in his face turns that softness into something mournful. “We were always kept together… until the night everything fell apart.”

Taehyung shifts beside you, his large body leaning in slightly, confirming Yoongi’s statement without words. His ears flatten in quiet distress.

You stare down at the tag, suddenly aware of how cold it’s become in your hand. “This number… 903,” you murmur, turning it over gently, “that belonged to your brother?”

Yoongi’s jaw clenches. “Yes. He’s the youngest.” He exhales shakily, and you realize he’s not just tired. He’s rattled in a way he can’t fully hide. “His name is Jungkook.”

Taehyung lets out a soft, low chuff that sounds painfully sad.

A chill spreads down your spine.

Your grip tightens around the small metal disc as the weight of the situation sinks in. The bear you nearly hit wasn’t just a random hybrid. He was their family.

Yoongi looks back at you, the intensity in his gaze returning with startling force. “You need to tell me exactly what happened on that road,” he says quietly. “Every detail.”

You sit down slowly at the edge of the bed, the tag resting in your hand like it weighs far more than a scrap of metal should. Yoongi’s gaze stays fixed on you with a level of focus that cuts straight through the fatigue you’d seen in him moments ago. Taehyung settles beside you, still in his tiger form, his presence warm and tense at your side as if bracing himself for what you’re about to say.

You clear your throat. “I was coming back from the store. I had just gotten past the city and into the tree line when a bear ran out of the forest and almost hit my car.”

You continue, speaking carefully so you don’t miss anything. “I stopped in the middle of the road. He stood right in front of me. And when he turned his head… I saw the tag.”

You swallow, “he got scared and bolted into the woods. And a few seconds later, two men came running out from the same spot. They weren’t in uniforms. They just looked like regular people who’d run themselves ragged chasing something through the forest.”

Yoongi’s eyes sharpen, darkening with something colder than anger. “Hunters.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m pretty sure they were hunting him.”

You pull in a breath, remembering the way the men stared you down. “They came to my car and asked if I’d seen anything. I panicked and just told them I saw a bear run across the road. But I pointed them in the wrong direction so they wouldn’t follow him.”

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly, and for a moment his face softens, “thank you.”

You continue softly, “He dropped the tag when he ran. That’s how I found it.” You carefully present the tag to him. He hesitates but with trembling hands he reaches out nonetheless and clenches it tightly in the palm of his hand. 

Yoongi’s jaw tightens again, but his voice steadies as he asks, “How did he look?”

You hesitate. “He looked exhausted. Scared. Like he’d been running for a long time.”

Taehyung lowers his head, resting his chin lightly on the edge of your knee, a gesture that is both grounding and heartbreaking. His tail curls close to his body.

The moment stretches uncomfortably, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You suddenly feel small standing in the middle of something you barely understand—hybrids, hunters, escaped family members, numbers engraved into cold metal. Everything feels too big, too dangerous.

Your fingers close around the tag again, gripping it until the metal presses into your palm.

“Yoongi…” you say, voice softer now, almost unsure. “I don’t know what to do here.”

Yoongi’s eyes shift to you immediately.

“I mean—” you continue, swallowing hard, “I don’t know how to help you. Or him. Or if I even should. I don’t know the rules, or what’s too risky, or what could get all of us killed. Hell, just a few days ago I didn’t even think your kind actually existed. I thought maybe it could’ve all just been one big conspiracy theory.”

You force yourself to meet his gaze.

“Just tell me… what should I do?”

For the first time since you’ve met him his gaze seemed to have softened. Then, almost painfully slow, he looks away. His shoulders sink just a little. The sadness on his face is quiet, restrained, but unmistakable.

“I don’t think you want to be involved with our kind,” he murmurs.

The words aren’t sharp or defensive. They’re tired, almost defeated, like he’s already bracing himself for disappointment. Taehyung lowers his head beside you again, watching Yoongi with ears slightly back, as if he disagrees but doesn’t know how to argue.

“The humans we have met,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “They don’t know the meaning of kindness. They’re powerful and dangerous individuals.” 

He still refuses to look at you, his eyes fixed on the floor as though the truth is easier to say when he’s not facing your reaction.

“I don’t want you caught in that,” he finishes quietly. “Not because you’re weak… but because you don’t deserve the consequences that follow hybrids like us.”

His expression stays turned away from you, but the room feels heavier now.

His words hang in the air between you. It’s not meant to push you out, but to protect you from something he’s certain you can’t handle. Taehyung stays close, his presence warm against your side, and you feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You swallow hard.

“I am scared,” you admit, your voice low but honest. “All of this is… a lot. You, Taehyung, your brother, the hunters. This entire world of hybrids that barely anyone even knows exists. It’s terrifying.”

Yoongi’s shoulders tense, and for a brief moment he closes his eyes, as if bracing himself for you to pull away from everything entirely.

“But,” you continue softly, “being scared doesn’t mean I’m just going to walk away.”

His eyes open again at that, lifting slightly in your direction though he still doesn’t fully turn to face you.

“I didn’t ask to find you,” you say, fingers brushing lightly over Taheyung’s fur, “but I did. And you weren’t dangerous. You were hurt. Taehyung was hurt. Whoever your brother is… he looked terrified out there. And I can’t pretend I didn’t see that.”

You draw a slow breath, your heart pounding, but the words come easier now.

“I’m scared because I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to help you or what the right move is, and I’m worried I’ll make things worse.” You glance between the two hybrids, your expression softening. “But I’m even more scared of what might happen to you if I don’t do anything at all.”

Taehyung’s ears perk at that, a small surprised flick. 

Yoongi finally turns his head enough to truly look at you. His expression is still guarded, but something in it eases.

“You shouldn’t be afraid on our behalf,” he says quietly.

You manage a small, shaky exhale. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. It’s not a smile, but something close to one.

You continue before your nerve slips. “So… if I’m already involved, and I’m not walking away… just tell me what I need to do. I don’t want to make decisions blindly.”

Yoongi studies you for a long moment, his golden eyes steady and unreadable. Then, for the first time, he nods.

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice softer than before. “If you truly want to help… then we need to track our brother.”

You freeze for a moment, the weight of Yoongi’s words sinking into your chest. Tracking him down. That isn’t a small task. But the look on Yoongi’s face tells you this isn’t optional for them. This is family.

You take a slow breath. “Okay… but how? I don’t even know where to start.”

Yoongi’s gaze flicks toward Taehyung, who responds before he even speaks. The tiger pushes himself to stand, muscles trembling slightly from the effort. He tilts his head toward the door as if already preparing to leave.

“We follow his scent,” Yoongi says. “Taehyung can track better in his animal form. Even injured, he’ll know where Jungkook went.”

You glance at Taehyung, who is now watching you with expectant golden eyes. Even in his tiger form, there’s a sharp intelligence there, and a quiet plea tucked beneath it.

“But you can barely walk,” you whisper.

Yoongi clenches his jaw. “That doesn’t matter. He’s alone. And if those hunters catch him before we do…” He trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish. The implication burns in the silence.

You shift your weight, thinking fast. “Then I’ll drive. It’ll be faster than walking, and Taehyung can guide us.”

Taehyung’s ears perk up at that, and he gives a firm, approving chuff.

Yoongi hesitates, tension pulling across his shoulders. “…You’re sure?”

“No,” you admit honestly, voice quiet but steady. “I’m terrified. But we can’t leave your brother out there. Not after what I saw.”

Yoongi looks away for a brief moment. But not in rejection this time, but in something fragile, like he’s trying to swallow a sudden surge of emotion he hasn’t let himself feel in a long time.

When he meets your eyes again, he looks more grounded. More certain. “Then we go now,” he says.

Taehyung steps forward, brushing his head lightly against your side as if urging you toward the door.

You nod, your heart pounding, and grab the tag from the bed. “Okay. Let’s go find him.”

The three of you move down the hallway, each step echoing with a mixture of urgency and unease. Yoongi keeps one hand against the wall for balance, refusing to let his exhaustion slow him down. Taehyung stays close at his side, his shoulder brushing Yoongi’s hip every few steps as if silently offering support.

You grab your keys from the counter and push open the front door, the cool air brushing across your skin like a reminder that the outside world is still unpredictable.

Taehyung steps out first. The moment his paws touch the porch, his demeanor changes. His shoulders lift, ears angling forward, nostrils flaring as he draws in a deep breath of the open air. He’s searching already.

Yoongi steadies himself against the doorframe and takes in the scene outside. “He’ll pick up Jungkook’s scent faster out here,” he murmurs. 

You glance back at him. “Are you going to be okay walking to the car?”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and there’s a faint dryness in his voice when he answers, “I’ve been through worse.” But when he takes a step forward, his legs tremble more than he wants to admit.

You instinctively reach your hand out to hold his waist. His whole body tenses. You half expected for him to growl at you, but instead, his body eases just slightly and with your support he begins to walk towards your car. 

You try not to react, but internally you’re freaking out and considering this a win. 

Taehyung notices immediately. He lets out a quiet huff.

You walk ahead, unlocking the car and opening the back door. “Yoongi, you should sit in the front. Taehyung can take the space on the floor or the backseat if he fits.”

Taehyung lets out a soft snort, as if offended at the idea of not fitting but he squeezes himself in with surprising grace, lowering his huge body onto the floor behind the front seats, curling his legs beneath him. His tail flicks once, tapping the seat lightly before going still.

Yoongi climbs into the back with effort, gripping the door frame to ease the strain on his injured ribs. Once inside, he presses a hand against his side, breathing slowly until the pain settles. 

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine. You pull away from the house, the engine humming low beneath you as the tires press into the gravel. The trees are tall enough that they swallow most of the remaining daylight. You keep your eyes on the winding road while the weight of Taehyung’s breathing and Yoongi’s quiet presence fills the car.

Neither of them speaks at first. Taehyung shifts occasionally behind you, his claws gently tapping the floor as he adjusts his position to smell the air more clearly. Yoongi watches the passing trees through the window, his posture tense but focused.

You tighten your grip on the wheel and guide the car toward the stretch of road where you’d nearly collided with the bear earlier. Every bend feels familiar now, every shadow pulling at your memory. The closer you get, the heavier the atmosphere becomes inside the car.

Taehyung stiffens before you even reach the exact spot. His head lifts, ears angling sharply forward. He presses his nose near the cracked window, drawing in long, deliberate breaths. His pupils narrow, body leaning subtly toward the right side of the car.

Yoongi notices immediately. “Slow down,” he murmurs, voice steady despite the tension behind it. “We’re close.”

You ease your foot off the gas and let the vehicle roll gently forward. “There,” you whisper, recognizing the section of pavement instantly.

The skid marks from your sudden stop are still faintly visible, stretched across the asphalt like a reminder of what happened. A few disturbed branches and crushed leaves line the edge of the road where the bear had fled into the forest.

You bring the car to a slow stop right where your tires had screeched before. The forest on either side stands unnervingly still, the night pressing in deeper now that the sun has dropped lower behind the trees.

Taehyung rises partway onto his feet, bracing himself against the seat with surprising grace for his size. He leans closer to the window, nostrils flaring again, more urgently this time.

Yoongi leans forward slightly, eyes fixed where Taehyung is focused. “His scent should still be strongest here.”

You take a slow breath and open your door, the cool air immediately brushing across your skin as you step out onto the road. The forest feels different now that you’re returning to it on purpose. 

Taehyung slips out right behind you, landing on the asphalt with a soft thud. His size is impressive out in the open; even crouched low, he looks powerful and alert. He keeps close to your side for a moment, his shoulder brushing your hip, before instinct pulls him forward. His nose goes straight to the ground near the crushed leaves and disturbed brush.

Yoongi climbs out slower, deliberate in each movement as he keeps a hand against the car for balance. He winces when he straightens, but the moment Taehyung lets out a short, sharp huff, Yoongi pushes himself upright despite the pain.

Taehyung sniffs the same patch of ground again, then moves a few feet to the left, following something only he can detect. His ears flick, his tail stiffens, and he makes a soft chuff — a sound you’re beginning to understand as a signal.

“He’s got it,” Yoongi says quietly, moving to stand beside you. “The trail starts here.”

You crouch down near the place where the bear had lingered earlier, noticing details you hadn’t before. The ground is scuffed where something large skidded briefly, leaving long grooves in the dirt. A few strands of dark fur cling to the edge of a low branch, fluttering faintly with the breeze.

“Shedding?” you murmur.

Yoongi shakes his head. “No. Pulled out, probably when he crashed through.” His expression tightens slightly. 

That adds a new layer of urgency to the air.

Taehyung moves toward the tree line, and for a moment you think he’ll charge straight in, but he pauses and turns to look back at you with wide golden eyes. They’re expectant, waiting, almost asking permission.

Yoongi notices and lets out a quiet breath. “He wants you close. If anything happens, you need to be near him or me.”

You take a small step forward. “Are you sure it’s safe for me to be in the woods with hunters nearby?”

“No,” Yoongi answers honestly, “but leaving you alone is worse.”

That does nothing to calm your nerves, but the truth in it feels grounding.

Taehyung dips his head once before turning back toward the forest. He pushes through the first line of branches, weaving silently into the underbrush.

You meet Yoongi’s eyes, and without speaking, the two of you follow.

The moment you cross into the trees, the world changes. The forest floor muffles your footsteps, and the canopy above swallows most of the remaining light. Taehyung moves several paces ahead, his tail brushing leaves aside as he follows the trail, but he never goes far enough to lose sight of you.

You duck under a low branch, your shoulder brushing Yoongi’s briefly as he steadies himself on a nearby tree trunk. His breathing is tight, but he keeps moving.

“Just a little farther,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

Suddenly Taehyung freezes, every muscle in his body coiled tight. Yoongi’s hand shoots out, lightly grabbing your wrist before you can take another step.

Before you could even begin to ask, in the distance, it’s faint but unmistakable, you hear something shift. A soft rustling, like something heavy dragging across leaves.

You listen again.

Another rustle.

But now the sound is clearer. They’re heavy footsteps, uneven, slower than before. Not an animal. Not a hybrid struggling to move.

Voices drift through the trees, low and frustrated.

You tense. “Is that—?”

Yoongi nods once, sharply, “hunters.”

Taehyung immediately drops low to the ground, his body melting into the brush so smoothly you almost lose sight of him. Yoongi pulls you downward beside him, crouching behind a fallen log thick with moss. His breathing quickens, strain tugging at the edges of his voice.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers.

You nod, heart pounding so loudly you’re terrified they’ll hear it.

The footsteps get closer.

Through the dense leaves, you finally see them. It’s the same two men who approached your car earlier. Their shoulders sag now, their clothes dirtier, their faces flushed with irritation and exhaustion. One drags a branch out of his way with unnecessary force, tossing it aside like it personally offended him.

“No tracks. Nothing,” the first mutters, kicking at a pile of leaves. “Damn thing vanished.”

The second wipes sweat from his brow. “That damn bitch must’ve lied to us.”

Your stomach flips.

Yoongi’s grip on your wrist tightens slightly, not painful, but protective.

The second man snorts. “This whole hybrid nonsense is getting out of hand. Dangerous animals, mutations, whatever you wanna call it… Someone’s gotta get ahead of this before they breed or something.”

Taehyung’s ears flatten, a low rumble forming deep in his chest, vibrating through the ground. Yoongi reaches out and touches his fur, the contact grounding him instantly.

The first man shakes his head, “yeah but that bounty money will make all of this worth it.”

The hunters move slower now, dragging their feet through the underbrush, not searching anymore. Just irritated. Just tired. Their failure hangs around them like a thick fog.

They never even look in your direction.

Still, you barely breathe.

When the men finally pass out of sight, their voices fading into the distance, Yoongi doesn’t rise immediately. He waits. Listens. Judges the timing with careful, practiced instinct.

Only when the forest grows quiet again does he release a slow breath and ease his hold on you.

“They didn’t find him,” you whisper, your voice shaking just a little.

“No,” Yoongi replies, his gaze scanning the trees. “But they might come back.”

Taehyung lifts his head slightly, nostrils flaring again, and looks toward the deeper part of the forest that the hunters didn’t check.

It’s an unspoken message.

Yoongi meets your eyes. “If Jungkook’s still out here… he’ll be hiding where they weren’t.”

You nod, the adrenaline still buzzing under your skin.

“Then we need to move before they circle back.”

Yoongi exhales slowly and braces a hand against the moss-covered log before pushing himself upright. You move with him, careful not to snap a twig or rustle a leaf. 

Taehyung steps ahead, lowering his head to the forest floor. His nose sweeps through the scattered leaves, tracking invisible lines of scent only he can understand. He moves a few paces in one direction, pauses, pivots, then moves in another, more decisive direction.

Yoongi follows him with a wince as he adjusts his stance, and you stay close, matching his pace.

“He’s picking up the trail again,” Yoongi murmurs. “Jungkook must’ve gone this way after he left the road.”

“How can you tell?” you whisper, stepping carefully around a fallen branch.

Yoongi nods toward Taehyung. “He’s calmer now. Focused. If Jungkook’s trail had gone cold, he’d be restless or frustrated. But he’s tracking with confidence.”

You watch Taehyung move, his movements sharper now, more purposeful. His tail remains still behind him—a clear sign of concentration.

When he stops suddenly, you almost bump into him. He lowers his head toward a cluster of ferns, gently nosing them aside. As he pushes deeper, something catches your eye.

A patch of dark fur tangled in the brush.

You crouch down, brushing the leaves aside with trembling fingers. The fur matches the bear’s coloring exactly—thick, coarse, slightly curled at the tips. But what catches your attention more is the faint smudge of something staining the leaves.

Not fresh.

But unmistakably blood.

Your chest tightens. “He’s hurt…”

Yoongi crouches beside you with visible effort and examines the spot. “It’s not enough to be life-threatening,” he murmurs. “Probably scraped himself trying to get away. But it means we’re close. He didn’t have much energy left when he passed through here.”

Taehyung lifts his head, ears pricked, eyes locked on a narrow break in the trees ahead. He gives a soft, urgent chuff and glances back at the two of you.

Yoongi nods. “He went deeper. Toward the creek.”

You straighten and look between the path ahead that was slowly beginning to darken as the sun was slowly starting to go down. “Will the hunters come this way?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not unless they find a reason. They stuck to the easier routes. Jungkook always knew how to avoid human patterns.”

Taehyung flicks his tail, waiting.

You take another breath and step forward.

“Then let’s keep going.”

The three of you slip deeper into the forest, following the narrow trail Jungkook made—broken branches, disturbed ferns, faint prints in the soft earth. As the trees thicken and the sound of distant running water grows louder, the tension shifts.

Something is close.

Taehyung stops again, his entire body going still, head turned sharply toward the right. His ears flatten, not in fear, but recognition.

Yoongi stiffens beside you.

Taehyung stands completely still, every muscle pulled taut as he listens. His ears twitch once, twice—then angle sharply toward the right, deeper into the trees where the canopy thickens.

Yoongi steps closer to him, his posture shifting instinctively into something protective despite the pain etched across his features. His hands curl slightly at his sides, and his breath comes shallow, controlled.

You swallow hard. “Do you see something?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not see. Hear.” He nods toward Taehyung. “And he smells it.”

Taehyung takes one slow step forward, then another, drifting toward the sound of running water in the distance. His body moves with a different kind of urgency now, he’s no longer searching, but closing in.

You follow without hesitation, keeping your steps light and careful. Yoongi moves beside you, one hand brushing tree trunks here and there as he steadies himself. The deeper you go, the colder the forest feels, as if the temperature drops with every footstep.

The murmur of water grows louder. The trees thin slightly.

And then—

Taehyung stops again, but this time the motion is abrupt, his claws digging slightly into the earth to anchor himself. His chest expands with a deep inhale, and a quiet, almost pained sound rumbles from him.

Yoongi freezes.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

“What does that mean?” you whisper.

Yoongi’s voice is barely audible. “He found something.”

You exchange a quick glance before the three of you push past a dense cluster of ferns. The forest opens into a small clearing near the edge of a shallow creek. 

Your breath catches.

Something is lying near the water’s edge.

A large body, dark fur matted with dirt and leaves, chest rising and falling in slow, uneven pulls. One foreleg is tucked awkwardly beneath the body, the other stretched forward as if it had collapsed mid-step. The water near his paws is disturbed, ripples spreading outward from where he must have stumbled.

It’s the bear.

The same one you saw earlier.

But now that you’re closer, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. The trembling in his flank, the labored breaths, the way his head barely manages to lift when Taehyung steps forward.

He tries to lift his head, but the strength seems to drain out of him halfway through the motion. His eyes land on Taehyung first, dull but aware, filled with exhaustion and relief that flickers weakly beneath the fear. Then his gaze drifts toward Yoongi, widening the slightest bit in recognition.

Taehyung moves first, inching forward with soft, careful steps. He lowers his head until his forehead touches Jungkook’s, a gentle greeting that carries more comfort than words ever could. A faint chuff escapes Jungkook’s throat in return.

Yoongi’s breath shudders as he drops to one knee, ignoring the pain it sends through him. “Jungkook…” he whispers, voice cracking under the weight of it.

Finally Jungkook’s gaze drifts toward you, slow and hazy, his vision struggling to focus. At first, there’s nothing but exhaustion in his expression, but the moment he realizes you’re not a hybrid, not one of his own, everything inside him tenses.

His pupils widen.

His breathing quickens.

A soft, rattled sound escapes his throat.

He tries to pull back even though he barely has the strength to lift his head. His claws dig weakly into the dirt as he attempts to shift away from you, fear overriding his exhaustion.

Yoongi reacts instantly.

“Jungkook—hey. Hey,” he says softly, leaning closer despite the sharp pain it causes him. He places a steadying hand near his shoulder without touching him yet, careful and grounding. “It’s alright. She’s not going to hurt you.”

Taehyung steps in next, lowering his tiger form beside his brother. He presses his forehead gently against Jungkook’s jaw, a reassuring gesture that sends a low, soothing rumble through the ground. Then he turns his head and nudges toward you as if telling Jungkook this human is safe.

But Jungkook’s gaze stays locked on you, his fear flickering beneath the exhaustion. His breaths come quicker, shallow and uneven, the instinct to flee warring with the reality that he can barely move.

You take the smallest step back, hands raised slightly to show you mean no harm. “It’s okay,” you murmur, voice as soft as the forest around you. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just… want to help.”

Yoongi hears the tremor in your voice and turns to Jungkooks again. “She saved us,” he says, his tone thick with an honesty that leaves no room for doubt. “If it wasn’t for her, Taehyung and I wouldn’t be here.”

Jungkook’s trembling slows, if only barely. His gaze flickers to Taehyung, who nudges him again, more insistently this time, before looking at you and letting out a short but reassuring chuff.

Yoongi follows that silently with, “You can trust her. She’s on our side.”

Yoongi’s words settle over the clearing with a kind of quiet weight. She’s on our side.

Hearing him say it out loud makes your chest tighten in a strange, unexpected way. 

Jungkook’s frightened gaze keeps flicking back to you, searching for a threat he’s expecting to find. You feel your breath catch as you meet his eyes. The fear there isn’t sharp or aggressive. It’s raw, wounded, the kind you’ve seen on patients who’ve been mistreated and don’t know who to trust.

You swallow and speak softly, keeping your tone warm even though your heart is beating too fast. “I know you don’t know me. I know this is scary. I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your voice wavers a little on the last word, and Yoongi notices, his eyes soften just slightly, though he tries to hide it.

Taehyung nudges Jungkook again, urging him to look at you, to listen, to feel that you’re not a threat. His breathing slows another fraction, but he still looks unsure and you can’t blame him.

You take a slow breath and lower yourself a little more, not close enough to overwhelm him, but not so far that you seem afraid. “You don’t have to trust me yet,” you say gently, “but I’m going to help you anyway. I won’t let them find you.”

Jungkook’s ears twitch at that. His muscles loosen by a degree, and the tension in his shoulders eases when Taehyung presses his forehead to his again.

Yoongi watches you quietly, something flickering across his face, not quite gratitude, not quite relief, but something in-between. Something he isn’t used to showing.

You straighten very carefully, keeping your movements slow. “Just tell me what you need from me. Whatever it is… we’ll figure it out.”

Jungkook watches you again, but this time, his fear doesn’t spike. His eyes soften just a little, the smallest shift, but enough for you to know he’s starting to believe Yoongi and Taehyung.

You wrap your arms around yourself for a moment, more to keep your hands from shaking than for warmth. Jungkook’s fear is no longer pointed directly at you, but it’s still there.

“Alright,” you murmur, mostly to ground yourself, “how are we getting him to my car.”

Yoongi adjusts his position next to Jungkook and winces, one hand pressed lightly to his ribs. His voice is steady, but the strain behind it is unmistakable. “First, we need to see if he can shift back. We can’t move him like this. He’s too heavy, and Taehyung and I aren’t in any condition to carry him far. And you definitely can’t carry him.”

“Ok ouch.”

He rolls his eyes, a tired but unmistakably sarcastic gesture. “Please. Go on and prove me wrong.” He stretches out his hand in a sweeping motion toward the enormous bear lying in the grass. “Pick him up.”

You stare at Yoongi.

Then at Jungkook.

Then back at Yoongi.

“He weighs like—what—six hundred pounds?” you whisper in disbelief.

“Seven-twenty last time he shifted,” Yoongi mutters.

Taehyung huffs in agreement, as if backing the math.

You cross your arms. “Right. So clearly I could lift him, I’m just choosing not to.”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “Of course.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with wide, exhausted eyes, clearly not following every word but definitely aware that he is the subject of discussion.

Taehyung steps closer, brushing his head against Jungkook’s jaw in a slow, comforting gesture. The deep rumble vibrating from him seems to settle his trembling a little, but only just.

Yoongi leans in, bracing himself on one knee. “Jungkook,” he says quietly, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, “you need to try. Just once. If you can shift it’ll make this easier on all of us.”

Jungkook opens his eyes at that, the emotion in them raw and too heavy for someone his size. He looks at Yoongi first, then Taehyung… and finally at you.

He tries.

You can see it—the tension along his back, the way the fur ripples unevenly, the faint shimmer beneath his skin like something is trying to change shape. But it lasts only a few seconds before his body shudders and the effort collapses. His sides heave with the strain, a weak groan slipping out of him.

Taehyung lowers himself beside his brother again, pressing close in quiet support.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook with pain written clearly in his expression, and when he finally speaks, his voice is tight but controlled. “Alright. That’s enough. Don’t try again.”

He turns his gaze to you.

“Well,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “we’re going to have to figure out another way to get him back.”

You nod slowly. “Okay. So… what’s Plan B?”

Yoongi opens his mouth to answer—

But then Taehyung’s head snaps up. His body goes rigid.

You freeze, glancing between him and Yoongi.

Yoongi’s face darkens immediately. “That’s not good.”

You swallow. “What is it?”

Taehyung rumbles low in his chest—a warning, not a greeting.

Yoongi meets your eyes. The exhaustion is gone.

“They’re coming back.”

Taehyung’s low warning rumble vibrates through the ground, deeper and sharper now. He rises to his feet despite the stiffness in his ribs, positioning himself between the trees and his nearly unconscious brother. His tail lowers, sweeping behind him in a slow, tense arc.

You whip your head toward the forest line, heart hammering.

You don’t see anyone yet. But you hear it. Branches cracking. Leaves shifting under heavy boots.

Yoongi’s jaw clenches. “They must’ve come back to check. Maybe they picked up on him.” He presses a hand against his ribs and forces himself upright, moving to stand on the opposite side of Jungkook.

You rise too, adrenaline sparking under your skin. “Okay—okay, what do we do? We can’t move him. They’ll see him any second—”

“Stay low,” Yoongi instructs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down behind the nearest thicket of brush. “If they see you with us—”

He doesn’t finish, but the implication sends a chill down your spine.

Taehyung doesn’t hide. He stays in front of Jungkook, massive body low to the ground, ears pinned back, ready to lunge if he has to. He won’t leave his brother exposed. Not for anything.

The footsteps are getting closer now.

You huddle lower, keeping your breathing as steady as possible. Yoongi crouches beside you, face pale from pain but eyes sharp and focused. His gaze flicks constantly between the approaching direction and Jungkook’s unmoving form.

The voices sharpen.

“…I swear it came through here—”

“We’re not leaving empty-handed—”

“If it came back, it’s hurt. It can’t be far—”

Yoongi tenses. “Damn it, they’re getting close.”

Your pulse spikes in your throat. “We need a distraction.”

“Don’t,” he whispers harshly, his grip on your wrist tightening. “Don’t even think about it.”

You glance at the hunters again. They’re too close. If they take even ten more steps, they’ll see Jungkook lying in the open, unable to move. Taehyung could hide, Yoongi could hide — but Jungkook can’t.

“We don’t have time,” you whisper back. “If we don’t stall them now, they’re going to walk right into the clearing.”

Yoongi pulls you closer, desperation in the shake of his breath. There’s fear in his eyes now. 

“Listen, earlier they didn’t suspect anything when I talked to them on the road,” you remind him quietly. “They saw me as just… another person doing errands. Someone normal. Someone harmless.”

“That’s exactly why it’s dangerous,” Yoongi hisses, keeping his voice as low as possible. “Humans like them react unpredictably when they’re desperate. They’re angry, tired, frustrated. They won’t think straight. If they think you saw something, or if they even suspect you’re hiding something—”

He breaks off, his voice tightening like something painful is stuck in his throat.

You inhale slowly. “I won’t let them walk right into this clearing. I can’t.”

Jungkook’s huge form trembles faintly behind you. He’s trying to lift his head again, but it drops back heavily against the dirt. His breaths are too shallow. Too fast. He won’t survive being discovered.

Taehyung shifts closer to him, almost shielding him with his body.

You look back at Yoongi — at the fear in his eyes.

“It’s me or Jungkook,” you whisper. “And I’m the only one who can walk up to them without starting a fight.”

Yoongi shakes his head, jaw clenched. “I can’t let you—”

“You don’t get to ‘let’ me,” you whisper back, not harsh, but steady. “This is the only option we have.”

His grip loosens, but only because his hand is shaking. His eyes burn into yours, the panic there unmistakable.

“You’re human,” he murmurs, voice rough with fear he can’t hide. “I don’t want anything happening to you because of us.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand over his. “And I don’t want anything happening to your brother because we were too scared to do something.”

Yoongi’s breath stutters. He looks at you like he’s caught between a dozen conflicting instincts. But the hunters are almost at the clearing now, and there’s no more time to hesitate.

You squeeze his hand once, softly. “I’ll be fine.”

He swallows hard, visibly fighting himself.

Then, barely audible, he whispers, “Please… be careful.”

You nod, slip free of the brush, and step out into the trees. You walk toward the hunters with your heart pounding so hard it hurts.

Behind you, Yoongi and Taehyung lower themselves deeper into the shadows, watching every move with terror and hope tangled into one. The darkening sky provides some protection.

You step out from the brush, forcing your breathing into some kind of steady rhythm even though your pulse is racing so fast you can feel it in your fingertips. The forest opens slightly ahead, and the hunters’ flashlights swing in sporadic, frustrated arcs across the trees.

They hear your footsteps before they see you.

“What the—?” one of them snaps, jerking his light in your direction.

You lift your hands a little, palms open, trying to look harmless. “Hi—sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Both men tense immediately. Their shoulders stiffen, their grips tighten, not on weapons yet, but close enough that your stomach drops.

“What are you doing out here?” the taller one demands, stepping forward. “This isn’t a place you should be wandering alone.”

You swallow, keeping your expression confused but not panicked. “I know… I know. I saw flashlights and voices, and I thought maybe someone was lost. I didn’t want to just ignore it.”

The shorter man squints at you. “You again? From the road?”

Your heart lurches, but you force a nervous laugh. “Yeah. I live around these woods. I come across a lot of lost hikers all the time. Wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Behind the brush, Yoongi stiffens so sharply the leaves rustle. Taehyung’s low, rumbling growl vibrates faintly through the ground, warning but contained as he stays curled protectively around Jungkook.

The tall hunter narrows his eyes. “You followed us into the woods?”

“No—no, I didn’t follow you,” you say quickly. “I thought I heard something, so I called out. I guess I wandered a little farther in than I meant to.”

They exchange a look. You can’t tell if it’s suspicion or annoyance, but neither reaction is good.

“What’d you hear?” the shorter one asks, stepping closer. His light flicks behind you, toward the clearing you just left. Toward the direction of Jungkook.

Your stomach tightens painfully.

You force yourself to stall. “Honestly? I thought it was a dog at first. Or maybe a big raccoon.” You give an awkward shrug. “I don’t know animals very well.”

The taller hunter doesn’t laugh. His eyes scan the ground around you. “Hear anything heavy? Big branches moving? Something with weight?”

“Uh… no?” you lie smoothly. “I mean, unless you count me tripping over a root.”

The shorter hunter sighs loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Another false lead.”

He looks tired, irritated, and your goal is to keep him in that emotional space. Annoyed and ready to leave.

You push gently. “So… did you guys ever find the bear? Or whatever you were tracking?”

The taller one steps forward, too close, his flashlight hitting your face. “What did you see earlier exactly? Describe it again.”

Your heartbeat spikes.

“A big bear,” you say honestly enough that your voice doesn’t shake. “Brown. Fast. Scared.”

“Brown?” he presses. “Not black? Not mottled? No strange things on him?”

“No,” you say, steadying your breath. “Just… a bear. I think.”

The shorter one groans again. “I told you she probably saw a normal animal. We’re wasting daylight.”

You feel Yoongi watching you from the shadows behind.

“Look,” you say gently, forcing your shoulders to relax, “maybe you should call it for tonight. You both look exhausted.”

The tall hunter eyes you once more, but something in his posture shifts. The exhaustion is winning out. The uncertainty. The doubt.

Finally, he mutters, “We’ll sweep the creek and head out.”

Your stomach drops. The creek is exactly where Jungkook is. You need to redirect them now.

“You mean the creek down that way?” you ask, pointing confidently, but in the completely wrong direction, deeper into the woods and far from Jungkook.

They both turn to look.

“Yeah,” the shorter one says slowly. “Down that ridge.”

You nod. “I thought I heard splashing earlier, but… it was probably nothing.”

He curses under his breath. “Whatever. We’ll check it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a weak smile. “And be careful. It’s getting dark.”

The tall one nods curtly and gestures to his partner. “Come on. Let’s sweep the ridge.”

You watch them go.

Their flashlights fade.

Their voices become distant.

Only when you’re sure they’re far enough does the breath you’ve been holding collapse out of you.

You glance back at the clearing.

Jungkook is still lying in the grass, trembling faintly but no longer panicking. His eyes are half-open, watching you with a dazed mixture of confusion and gratitude he can’t quite express.

Taehyung emerges beside him, still in his tiger form, staying low and protective over him. His ears flick back as he looks at you, as if checking with his own eyes that you’re actually safe.

Yoongi moves first.

He closes the distance in a few quick, pained steps, grabbing your forearm, his hand trembling just enough for you to feel it.

“That was dangerous.” he whispers, anger thinly layered over raw fear. “I can’t believe you walked straight up to armed hunters alone.”

“Yoongi… the alternative was letting them walk right into this clearing.”

He shakes his head sharply. “No. You don’t get it. They’re not just regular humans. They’re hunters. If they found out you were lying—“

“You’re safe,” you say quietly. “All three of you and that’s all that matters.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens. He finally releases your arm… only to take your hand instead. The gesture is small but intentional, his thumb brushing once across your palm as if he needs the reassurance that you’re real and unhurt.

“Please don't do that again,” he says softly, the anger fading into something rawer.

You swallow, realizing he isn’t scolding you. He’s scared. For you. “I had to,” you whisper. “I’d do it again.”

He closes his eyes briefly like the answer both frustrates him and shatters him a little.

Before he can respond, Taehyung nudges him sharply, then looks down at Jungkook, letting out a low, meaningful rumble.

Yoongi’s eyes snap open. “Right. We need to move him before they circle back.”

You nod, grounding yourself with a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand once before letting go, turning his focus back to Jungkook. “Then we move fast,” he says, voice firm again. “And we do it together.”

Yoongi crouches beside Jungkook again, ignoring the flare of pain in his ribs. You kneel on the other side, close enough for Jungkook to see your face clearly. His eyes flutter open at your movement, still cloudy with exhaustion, still scared… but not as much as before.

You smile at him gently. “We’re gonna get you somewhere safe, okay? But we need your help too.”

Jungkook lets out a faint, trembling huff.

Yoongi nods at him, his expression softening in a way you’ve never seen. “We just need you to stand. No shifting. Just get your feet under you.”

Jungkook closes his eyes for a second, gathering strength from somewhere deep and then he tries. His huge paws press into the dirt, claws digging in, muscles bunching with effort. His legs tremble violently. His shoulder nearly collapses.

Taehyung moves instantly, bracing himself beneath Jungkook’s weight so the bear can lean against him. Yoongi reaches out as well, placing both hands on his fur to steady him, though you can see the strain it costs him.

You rise and place a hand lightly against Jungkook’s stomach, steadying him from the other side. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

He lifts his head a few inches. It wobbles, but it stays up.

“That’s it,” Yoongi murmurs. 

It takes nearly a full minute, but Jungkook manages to shift himself into a weak, unsteady stand. His breathing is ragged, but his body holds.

Barely.

You look at Yoongi. “Can he walk?”

“Not far,” Yoongi admits. His eyes flick to the darkness behind you where the hunters disappeared. “But he doesn’t have to. We just need to get him close enough to the road. Taehyung and I can lift the rest.”

You nod. “Then let’s move.”

Taehyung positions himself under Jungkook’s injured side, taking most of his brother’s weight with a soft grunt of effort. Jungkook leans heavily into him, almost collapsing twice before Taehyung steadies him with a bump of his shoulder.

Yoongi limps to the other side, jaw clenching each time he braces Jungkook. You can tell he’s in pain, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

You take the spot behind them, keeping your hands near his back and flank, ready to catch or support him if he falters.

“Alright,” Yoongi mutters, voice tight. “Slow and steady. Follow Taehyung.”

Taehyung starts forward, guiding Jungkook with careful, measured steps. The forest path is uneven, and each shift of his weight sends tremors through his legs. You stay close, murmuring quiet reassurances whenever he stumbles.

Jungkook struggles, but he keeps going, driven by the closeness of his brothers, the pressure of Taehyung’s side against his, the soft rhythm of your voice beside him.

Yoongi glances at you once, the faintest expression flickering across his features before he looks away again.

You walk for several painstaking minutes, Jungkook’s steps dragging deeper into the forest floor. Every rustle of leaves feels too loud. Every distant crack of a branch makes all three hybrids stiffen.

Finally, Taehyung stops and flicks his ears toward the right.

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “We’re close to the road.”

You step ahead and push through a thin line of brush and there it is. The narrow forest road where you parked earlier. Your car sits only a dozen yards away, half-hidden behind the trees, waiting.

You turn back, relief flooding through you.

“We made it.”

Jungkook sways, nearly collapsing, but Taehyung catches him before he can fall. Yoongi stabilizes him from the other side, though the strain on his face makes it clear he can’t take much more.

You rush forward and open the trunk door of your SUV. “Okay — Taehyung, Yoongi, how do we get him in?”

Yoongi wipes sweat from his brow, breathing hard. “We’ll guide him up. You get in the front and help pull if we need it.”

You hesitate. “Are you sure?”

He gives you a tired but certain nod. “We’ll manage. Just be ready.”

Guiding Jungkook to the car is a slow, excruciating process. Every few steps, his legs wobble, and Taehyung braces under him, taking the strain without hesitation. Yoongi presses a steadying hand to Jungkook’s side, wincing each time the weight shifts toward him.

“Easy…” Yoongi murmurs, voice strained. “Just a little closer.”

You scramble into the front seat and twist around, reaching back to offer your hands as Taehyung and Yoongi maneuver Jungkook toward the back door.

Jungkook hesitates, his huge frame trembling at the unfamiliar shape of the car.

You lean forward, voice steady. “It’s okay. It’s just for a moment. Then we’ll go home. I promise.”

His eyes meet yours, they look tired, scared, but trusting. And slowly, leaning heavily into Taehyung’s strength, Jungkook steps toward the car. His huge form towers at the edge of the car, and for a brief moment it seems impossible. He’s simply too big, too heavy, too exhausted.

You lean over the seat, extending your hand. “Jungkook… we need you to climb in, okay? We’re almost done. Just this last part.”

Jungkook breathes hard, his sides heaving, but his eyes meet yours. He listens. Slowly, he lifts one massive paw and sets it inside the vehicle. The car groans underneath the shift in weight.

Taehyung shifts position and nudges his brother from the side, offering silent encouragement. Jungkook lifts his other front paw in, his body sagging with effort. As his weight shifts into the backseat, the car dips sharply,  the suspension dropping several inches with a heavy, low creak.

You wince. “My poor car…”

Taehyung, squeezing in behind Jungkook, adds his weight too. The vehicle dips again. It’s almost comical, a small SUV sagging under the mass of two hybrids in one cramped space, but the worry in the moment overshadows any humor.

Yoongi huffs a weak breath through his nose. “Should’ve bought a truck.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly planning for… hybrid transport,” you whisper back.

Taehyung curls around Jungkook protectively, positioning himself so he can lean against him, his large head resting on Taehyung’s shoulder. The tiger adjusts until Jungkook is wedged securely, no risk of him sliding if you brake too suddenly.

Jungkook gives one soft, exhausted huff before his eyes close.

Yoongi limps around to the passenger side. He lowers himself into the seat with a shaky exhale, reclining it halfway until he finds a position that doesn’t make him grimace.

You close all the doors, circle back to the driver’s side, and climb in behind the wheel. The car’s back end still sits noticeably low, the weight of two fully-grown hybrids making your headlights tilt a little higher than usual.

You glance into the rearview mirror.

Jungkook is unmoving, breathing shallow but steady.

Taehyung’s golden eyes stare back at you, protective and alert from behind Jungkook’s massive form.

Yoongi watches the road ahead, jaw clenched, one hand pressed lightly against his ribs.

“Ready?” you ask.

Taehyung gives a slow, firm chuff.

Yoongi nods once.

You grip the wheel, exhale shakily, and put the car in drive.

“Hold on and lay low,” you whisper.

With everyone finally inside the car, you pressed your foot to the gas and left the forest behind, hoping the night wouldn’t catch up to you before you made it home.

A/N: Thanks for reading!! Let me know how you think of the story so far! As always have a wonderful day!

Love, Liz

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Jeongguk had changed. Not just physically. Sure, he had gotten taller, much taller. And his hair had been left to grow out; cute little curls had even formed. Had his hair always been curly? He had bulked up, no longer a scrawny teen approaching adulthood. Jeongguk, physically, had become a man. But his mentality still seemed far behind. Childish. The combination of a man's body and an immature mind had your chest aching with anxiety. Jeongguk had seemed to become more confident, more desperate. He had never approached you like that. Never begged with so much need.

Jeongguk has become desperate, and that is a problem. It had never been something you wanted to acknowledge, but there was something deeply wrong with the panther hybrid. You had wanted to pin it down to puberty, to the new life he had been given. He needed to prove himself to not only you, but also your family, to be accepted as a permanent fixture in the home. You realize now that that was never the case. Jeongguk had never cared for your family's acceptance. The look in his eyes tonight had confirmed everything you had feared. Jeongguk is unbalanced.

Too lost in your own buzzed thoughts, the broad body in front of you didn’t catch your attention until it was too late. The man barely budged from the impact. His hand quickly wrapped around your arm as you stumbled backward, catching your heels in the hem of your dress. “Whoa, you okay?”

The gentle grip on your bicep had your heart rate tripling. The voice was unfamiliar, but the touch was far too similar to the hold you had just been caught in.

“Hey, hey– it's alright.” They cooed, their fingers releasing their hold on your arm. “I’m sorry.”

Your skin tingles where the man had held you, making you subconsciously rub at the spot. This was so embarrassing. You could feel the heat on your cheeks, and the longer the man stared down at you, the hotter it burned.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was soft, concern lacing each word.

Shaking your head, you finally pushed your embarrassment aside to finally get a proper look at the man who saved you from falling on your ass. He was cute. Roughly around Jimin’s height, but muscular like Jeongguk and Namjoon. He was exactly the kind of guy you would have crushed on during your school days. His thick lips were pulled in a shy smile, dimples denting his cheeks. His attention seemed to be solely on you, and you were sure by now you had turned completely red.

He was exactly your type.

“I’m so sorry.” You spluttered, your brain short-circuiting. This whole thing was beyond embarrassing. You were humiliating yourself in front of the man of your dreams.

He laughed softly, his fingers leaving your skin once he was sure you were stable on your feet. Taking a small step back so he wasn’t crowding your space anymore, he cleared his throat and held out his hand. “I’m Chan.” He introduced.

His hand was warm in yours, fingers wrapping gently around yours. The heat that flushed into your cheeks embarrassed you further. For whatever reason, you felt embarrassed, and you hated it. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any experience with men. You had gone on dates, had a few relationships that didn’t last very long, but you weren’t a total hermit.

“Y/n.”

You only lasted another two hours amongst the other guests, having overdrunk in an attempt to calm your nerves. Instead of your nerves easing, you only felt more on edge, eyes fluttering across every inch of the room, desperate to catch sight of Jeongguk, to have real evidence that he was spying on you. Instead, you had made yourself hysterical. Jeongguk was nowhere in sight, and now neither was Yoongi. Your parents were still in the same spot, Chungho’s parents having closed in the gap Yoongi had left behind. How long has he been gone? You were sure you had seen him when you returned from the kitchen. Jeongguk had left you so frazzled that you couldn’t remember what had happened after leaving the kitchen, and the shots coursing through your system weren’t helping either. Chan had left about 30 minutes ago, and that was when your anxiety had spiked. He had been like a comforting wall, blocking away all the invisible eyes you had convinced yourself were pinned to you. You had both drunk a copious amount, turning it into a competition until he had to be hauled away by his sister to get back to their motel. As soon as he left, it felt like eyes were burning into your skin again.

The crowd had started to dwindle, and you finally deemed it appropriate for you to slink away to the comfort of your bedroom. Your legs were jelly, shaking with every attempted step. Your fingers clung to the wall to keep you upright. The last thing you needed was to fall over and have your sister accusing you of trying to steal her spotlight.

The staircase proved its enemy status once more, your heels long forgotten as you crawled on all fours up the stairs, pleading to whatever entity was watching over you that you’d make it to bed in one piece. Making it to the top platform had you ready to collapse and sleep where you kneeled. But instead of giving in to your weak body, you pushed forward. Staying on all fours, you crawled your way into the bathroom, thankful that the toilet had its own separate room. The bathroom you shared with your sister was steamy, making you assume maybe Yoongi had already showered and gone to bed.

Not having to face Yoongi for another day was relieving, but also disappointing. Seeing your roommate sleeping on a makeshift ‘bed’ on the floor made your heart ache. You invited him here, and now you have ignored his existence. You know your actions were justified, but the guilt still ate away at you. Things have gotten so complicated, and it is only going to get worse before you can try to make it better.

Huffing, you pushed off the doorway you had used to keep yourself upright. The steam felt heavy in your lungs, and you were unsure if you stayed too long, you would throw up. Grabbing your toothbrush, you got to work. You just needed to brush your teeth, change, and make your way back to bed without throwing up or falling. Easier said than done.

Taehyung was frozen. You were clearly drunk. Very drunk. Because how else could you have missed all the signs of an occupied bathroom? Sure, the bathtub was connected to the shower and had a curtain drawn around it, shielding him from your sight, but the clothes he left littered everywhere and the steam that filled the room should be evidence enough?

It felt like his lungs had locked in a permanent intake, his eyes glued to the roof as he attempted to release the breath stuck in his chest. It's not like he had done anything wrong. In fact, you were the one who intruded. Sure, he isn’t supposed to use this bathroom and had been warned by Jin and Namjoon multiple times, especially now that everyone was home, but he couldn’t help himself. He has to share a bathroom with 5 other men! And, they don't have a tub. So, yes, maybe he took advantage of it sometimes. That's not a crime! He wanted to relax, too.

Your gentle off-key singing echoed off the walls, muffled by your toothbrush. He couldn’t quite make out the words, and he wasn’t sure if it was even a real song or something you were making up on the spot. It was endearing. The singing turned to humming, your bare feet tapping against the tiles to the terrible rhythm. Taehyung was certain you were making up your own little song; the beat your foot made was all over the place, and the humming didn’t match. It had him snort out a laugh before he could realise. He froze, and the humming stopped.

Shit shit shit.

“Taehyung?” Your voice was barely a whisper, and it sent shivers down his spine.

He didn’t answer, sinking lower into the water. How long would it take to drown himself? You called his name again, slightly louder. He couldn’t tell if it was because you were moving closer or raising your voice to be heard better. Either way, it had his body locking up in fear.

Huffing, your fingers curled around the curtain. “You're in here, aren’t you?” The teasing knowingness.

“No! Don’t!” He yelped, trying to reach for the curtain. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move quickly enough, slipping slightly and sending water over the edge of the tub. Your eyes connected with his, and you laughed, your face blazing red (much like his likely was.)

Before you could say anything, Taehyung was scrambling. Despite feeling humiliated about the state he was in, the panic he felt about being scolded overpowered that. Yanking the curtain from your fingers and all the way open, he stumbled out of the tub and onto the floor, pressing his forehead to the tiles.

“Forgive me, Master, I was impudent. Punish me however you see fit.” The words were perfectly rehearsed, drilled into his tongue from years of training. They were taught that most humans would dish out their punishments swiftly, mostly in beatings. But your prolonged silence had every nerve on edge. Why weren’t you saying anything?

Taking a risk, he peeked up at you. You towered over him like this. It was a strange change. You weren’t short by any means, but you weren't incredibly tall either. Yet this position made you loom over him like a God. Perhaps you were. You certainly looked the part right now. The tight-fitting dress you had worn for the wedding hugged your body perfectly. He was certain you outshone everyone– including his owner, the bride. You looked at him, but it seemed like your eyes weren’t registering his presence. The glazed-over look in your eyes snapped him out of his admiration. He slowly slid across the tiles, pressing his lips to your foot.

“Master, please.” He choked out, the anxiety in his chest starting to get too much. Never in all his years in this home with his Master Jiyoo. Not even in the training facilities and adoption centres did he feel this way. The fear of disappointing a human. Not even HIS human. He was scared of disappointing you. To have upset you. The thought of being the reason you're experiencing any sort of negative feelings made his stomach twist so uncomfortably that he feared he was going to throw up the wedding cake Jimin and he had pinched earlier.

The kiss seemed to do the trick, your eyes widening in horror. You quickly pulled your foot away from the crouched man. Taehyung felt some relief wash over him as you quickly grabbed a towel, throwing it at him with flaming cheeks, begging him to cover up. He was quick to do as instructed, the towel tightly held around his waist.

“I’m not going to punish you, Taehyung.” You said after a few beats, your voice soft and slurred. The embarrassment you had seemingly experienced moments ago had cleared, now replaced with pity.

You looked at him with pity.

The look pissed him off. Another first. Taehyung didn’t get pity often– if at all. He can’t really recall a time he had gotten it before. But seeing it oozing from your eyes irked him beyond belief. There was nothing happening in this moment for you to look at him like that.

“You will do it tomorrow?” He asked, brow raised. You shook your head. No? No punishment tomorrow? Are you going to make him wait? Did you need time to think up something? A punishment to fit the crime.

You seemed to know he was thinking. Stepping forward, you gripped his biceps. “Not at all. Never.” Your words were stern and final.

Taehyung frowned. No punishment? It made no sense. He had purposefully disobeyed rules, and worse, was caught. How did this not warrant punishment? Something like this could lead to a hybrid being returned to its ‘manufacturer’ and put to rest. A defiant hybrid is a useless hybrid.

“Please punish me.” You stayed silent. “Please.”

He could feel it. The borderline hysteria. The panic. His chest was constricting, his airflow cutting off. The cool tiles were back against his knees, back hunched over as he tried to beat the air back into his lungs. This isn’t how it's supposed to go. This isn’t what's supposed to happen. He has to be punished. He needs to be. Was this your way of punishing him? It had to be. Or maybe you truly weren’t going to. Maybe you were going to tell Jiyoo and leave the decision up to her. He couldn’t let that be the case. It had been years since Jiyoo had been home, and he hadn’t even seen her yet. She would be furious to know he had broken a rule– been breaking rules.

The sound of knees popping had Taehyung looking up through his soaked hair, your hazy eyes coming into view. Soft hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to maintain eye contact. You looked at him sadly, your thumb stroking his cheek. “It’s okay, TaeTae, slow breaths.” You cooed, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it after a few seconds. “Like that, yeah?”

Nodding, Taehyung followed your instructions. Deep breath in, hold, and release (slowly, slowly!) and then repeat. It went on like this for a while, only the mixed sounds of his breath and yours filling the room. The steam had long faded, making it a little easier to breathe. Your eyes were shut, your legs finally giving way to the uncomfortable squat you had been in. Dropping onto your ass, you rested your head against the wall. Taehyung didn’t say a word, just watched. Your breathing evened out, and your body went lax. You had fallen asleep. He hadn’t seen you sleep before, but he had heard Jeongguk talk about it a lot. Jeongguk had been absolute when he said that his Master was the prettiest sleeper on the planet. You looked so relaxed; the peaceful expression was unusual to see. It was a pleasant change.

Taehyung took advantage of the moment to give you a proper look over. Your dress was a dark wine red, tight-fitting at the bust and waist before flowing out over your legs. There was a long slit up the side of the dress that had parted widely, showing off your pretty long legs. Taehyung's fingers twitched by his side. He shouldn’t. It was bad enough that he had already been caught breaking into your shared bathroom; he can’t push his luck.

And yet here he was. Pushing his luck.

You were soft under his palm. He was taking his time, freezing whenever you twitched under in his hold. Starting from your foot, Taehyung slowly moved higher and higher. Your skin gets smoother and smoother the higher he gets. It was exhilarating.

Taehyung wasn’t completely clueless when it came to women. Jiyoo often had friends come over throughout their teen years, and they were all keen to experiment and learn. Jiyoo was happy to share. Every weekend and most days after school, Jiyoo had friends over, usually the same ones, but occasionally a new one would come for an hour or so, only to never be seen again. It had started off harmless enough, easy things. Just teenage girls wanting to practice kissing. Taehyung and Jimin had happily obliged; it was what their Master wanted after all. They did the same thing with her all the time as well. But as Jiyoo got older, she wanted to explore further. She didn’t want to come across as inexperienced to her crushes, and so she used Taehyung or Jimin as a way of ‘self-exploration’. Taehyung wasn’t comfortable with it in the slightest, but he didn’t have options. Jimin, however, wasn’t entirely opposed. He was just as curious as it seemed. They had done just about everything but penetrative sex with their Master.

It was odd. The feeling he had now was vastly different from how he felt all those years ago. Back then, he had felt dirty and distressed, but right now his stomach was tight yet fluttery. His nerves were buzzing, and his hands trembled in anticipation as they reached higher. He stopped, not because he wanted to. Your thighs were pressing together, preventing higher access. Frowning, Taehyung had a moment of clarity. He should stop. He needs to stop. But, he won't. He just has to move carefully. No rushed movements.

With almost professional experience, Taehyung gently glided his hand between your thighs. Pausing when you shifted slightly. The movement worked in his favour as he managed to slide higher as you shifted to find a more comfortable position. Impossible, really, you were drunk, asleep on the bathroom floor. Taehyung couldn’t help but think how lucky you were that it was him who found you, his thumb stroking gently on the meat of your thigh. What if some perverted creep found you? There were so many strangers milling around the property still, you could’ve been lured away.

A shuddering breath broke Taehyung from his thoughts, his hand freezing. In his lost thoughts, he had absentmindedly found himself in a position where he couldn’t go any higher. His knuckles had brushed against the fabric that covered your most intimate part. Your thighs had tightened around him, leaving his hand trapped against you. What a wonderful blessing.

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Note: yikes sorry for the long wait T-T

masterlist

-

"Stop staring at that." Yoongi tried to conceal the paper you were holding with his hand, but you snatched it away from him. You give him a playful sneer before straightening up in your seat and bringing the paper back to your face. 

"But it's so beautiful," You exclaimed in a theatrical manner, even letting out a slight gasp for more impact. Needless to say, the person next to you was not amused.

"I agree. It's lovely," a deep voice whispers from near you, and you turn to see Taehyung peering into your paper. He pulls something from his back and shows you his as well. He shuts his eyes and nods slowly as you lift your palms into your lips to conceal your astonished gasp.

"I know, I know," he says, patting your head to "comfort" you. Minyoung smiles at the antics and pulls a chair around to face where you were currently sitting.

"You people are so dramatic," she says as she rolls her eyes and pries your hands away from your face.

“Hey! Let us have this. It's not often that we receive flawless grades on everything," Taehyung remarks whiningly with a pout, and you gag, receiving a gentle smack on the shoulder from him.

“How did everyone else do?” Yoongi asks as he looks around for your other friends. 

“I think we all did exceptional on this one. Study group has been working out really well; I'm amazed it really worked for us,” Taehyung says and you nod in agreement.

Hoseok returns to the classroom after momentarily excusing himself to take a phone call. “Everything okay?” Yoongi asked cautiously and Hobi just gave him a slight nod.

“Yep, everything’s fine. My mom just told me she’d have to work overtime so I should just get myself dinner.” He answers as he eyes you sitting on his chair. You were about to stand up to offer him his seat back, but he simply shook his head at you, so you sat down again.

Yoongi tried to read into his friend's face as he spoke to you guys. After years of friendship, you'd think he'd know everything about Hoseok, yet he still has trouble reading him sometimes. He's simply really adept at always wearing his smiling mask. He sits up straight and clears his throat.

“I’ll join you for dinner. I’m sick of seeing my brother’s face all the time at home anyway.” He offers and Hobi sends him a grateful smile. “You know what? We should ask if everyone’s free, then we should all have dinner together.” He adds, and he sees his friend’s eye light up. A smile pulls from his face at the reaction.

Yoongi is well aware that Hoseok dislikes being alone. He spent so much of his childhood alone that he now wants company wherever he goes. After all, it's the reason he and Yoongi became friends. As children, they would always meet at their parents' work functions, and Hobi would always accompany the bashful boy who seemed to want to be anywhere but a fancy affair full of grownups. Yoongi tried to brush him off every time, but his grumpy disposition had no effect on the boy, who clung to him like gum. He's thankful Hoseok didn't give up on him; he wouldn't know what to do without him.

“I think that’s a great idea! We all have something to celebrate anyway.” Minyoung says before rushing over along with Taehyung to relay the information to your other friends.

"Yeah, and don't be bothered about dinner.  I'll ask my dad to make some for us, and we'll pick it up from the restaurant," you say as you rise from your seat. You pull out your phone and indicate that you're about to make a phone call, and they all nod.

Hoseok takes his seat and glances at Yoongi, who has his gaze drawn away from him. He grins again, remembering how thankful he is for his friend. He immediately engulfs his best friend in a hug and even makes smooching noises, while Yoongi, as usual, tries to stop him with a twisted up face.

As he moves away from Yoongi, he softly pats his back and offers him a knowing look of appreciation. He knows his friend well enough to realize that expressing himself verbally is difficult for him, so he expresses himself in other ways. Yoongi nods and ruffles his hair, their unspoken conversation filling the air around them with warmth. They've always had each other's back in everything, and this moment just served to reinforce that.

The thought of a little get-together appeared to excite everyone, and it so happened that everyone could come. The group was divided into teams; some were sent to fetch the food, some to get the dessert, and others to go straight to the Jung residence to prepare for the guests.

You decided to take Minyoung and Jungkook with you with an ulterior motive in mind. Jungkook's dismissal of the entire budget negotiating situation has troubled you every time you see him. How can someone who was so determined to make something happen give up so easily? It also doesn't help when you notice him looking dejected when he thinks no one is watching.

You were on your way to the restaurant on the bus when you decided to (not-so-subtly) bring up the subject of the conversation. You cleared your throat while Minyoung was raving about a volleyball game she saw on TV the day before. 

“Speaking of, the sports committee meeting is next week.” You bring up and Minyoung gives you a questioning look. You return it with a knowing one, trying to get her to work with you.

“Right. You must be really busy preparing paperwork for that, don't you?" She responds with a glance that says, Right now? Really? You widen your eyes at her and nod in the direction of Jungkook. Her jaw drops open in realization but she nods in understanding.

"Yeah, but we've planned ahead of time enough to decrease the load because it's so close. I think we can take on some other projects as well..." You tried to ease into the subject.

“Really? I think you've got enough work to do with the next practice games," Jungkook adds nonchalantly, staring out the window like an anime protagonist. Heh.

You fumble over your words. "Ah- That's-" You were at a loss for words since he was right! Because the rest of the practice games will be hosted by Kkotgil, there is a lot of documentation and inventory that has to be completed. And it would reflect poorly on the school if you didn't plan this well. "It's not that bad, really," you chuckle awkwardly, turning to look at Minyoung, who is trying not to laugh at you. You scowl at her and determine that beating around the bush isn't going to work.

You sigh and turn to face Jungkook. "I want to talk to you about the budget negotiation you mentioned," you told him flatly, amazed at how confident you sounded considering you'd never truly spoken to him like this before.

He throws his head back in irritation before turning to face you. "I thought I told you to forget about it," he replies sternly, but it doesn't faze you in the least.

You sighed exasperatedly as you peered at him. "I know, but you seemed so adamant about it, so I don't understand why you gave up so fast," you retorted gently. Fighting fire with fire, as far as you can gather, will not work on this guy.

He opted to avert your eyes, so you just kept going. "Listen, you're under no obligation to tell me anything you don't want to. Maybe just tell me enough to make the Coach think I know everything. I doubt he'll quiz me about it anyway." You shrugged, trying to make it sound like it's not a big deal, but you know by now that it is for him.

He fiddled with his hands on his lap, and the quiet hushed conversation you were having appeared to prompt Minyoung to intervene. She offers Jungkook a reassuring smile, and his stiff shoulders loosen.

"I'm not sure how much to tell you without..." He trailed off and returned his gaze to the window.

"It's about your relationship with the team, isn't it?" You can see his eyes widen at your comment. "I figured so. You know, you're not very subtle." You add, and he let out a wry laugh at that.

"Says you," he responds sarcastically. You caught the insinuation in his tone but you don't want to go into it right now because this conversation is about him. You decide to brush that last bit off and sit up straight.

“Hey, I’m just letting you know that option is on the table.” You opt to continue instead of looking at him. "And remember, even after the meeting is over, you can still talk to me about it. I'm more to you than just a manager. I'm also your friend," you say as you look around, catching Minyoung's gaze and returning her smile.

"I'll be there when you're ready to tell me. We'll all be there for you." You return your glance to him, but he has a distant expression in his eyes that tells you he's thinking about something.

You gave a final shrug before pressing the button to notify the driver that you'd like to exit at the next stop. Minyoung wraps her arm around yours as you exit the bus. "You were so cool," she adds with a laugh, and you just grin and shake your head.

It didn’t feel cool for you to say; it was hypocritical advice. Who were you to tell him that he can tell you guys anything, when not so long ago you completely shut them all out without an explanation? You laugh at yourself. You were beginning to doubt yourself. Perhaps you should just leave him alone and let him deal with his shit. You don't have to pry into other people's lives when you're determined to build your walls as high as possible, allowing others to view only a fraction of you.

But, a little voice within your head argues, you know better now. You know better now that it doesn't hurt to depend on them now and again, especially when they are willing to be there for you. With that in mind, you loosen up, and tighten Minyoung’s arms that were tangled with yours. 

"Hey," Jungkook's voice yelled out from behind you as you approached the restaurant's door, forcing you and your friend to spin around to face him. "I'll think about it," he adds timidly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled at him.

“Okay.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

When the entire group is together, it is always chaotic. With all of the food laid out on the table, you know your dad went all out for the occasion. At this point, you'd think he'd be feeding the entire neighborhood. He’s just that thrilled at the prospect of you having friends. Your friends, on the other hand, were grateful and as a sign of gratitude, they promised to finish everything.

As soon as the group was complete, you all tucked into the food. True to their word, they did manage to finish almost everything that was laid out. Well, considering you were a bunch of growing teenagers, it shouldn’t be surprising that you all had an increased appetite. It was after you all ate dinner and were resting your stomachs to make room for dessert were you able to properly look around Hoseok’s home that he shared with his mom. During the conversation at the table, he mentioned that he was an only child.

You sat on the sofa and left the others sitting on the floor around the coffee table where you all ate. There was an abundance of personal clutter around the living room, which gave the house a more homey appearance. There were trophies, medals, but what caught your attention were the number of pictures of Hobi and his mother that were either hung on the wall or placed neatly on the shelves. They smiled in all the photos, and while it was obvious in his single shots that he was being made to strike a particular pose, he still had a wide grin on his face.

“These are really cute. You seemed like such a bright and cheerful child,” You suddenly commented without looking at the group, but their chatter died down at your remark. You look at them to question the silence and you see them looking at Hobi who had his lips on a grim line, and the rest who seemed like they were observing the situation. You didn't even get to ask about his mom, which you wanted to do just to make conversation and in an attempt to get to know him more. Hoseok briefly caught himself slipping before breaking into his trademark grin. You see Jin lean back on his seat and cross his arms with a sigh from your peripheral vision.

“Do you guys wanna play games? I don’t have a gaming console because we usually game at Yoongi’s, but I do have some board games and cards.” He offers and the atmosphere at the table suddenly brightens again. You scrunch your eyebrows, finding all of their reactions odd. You don’t know if you were reading into this too much but you wondered why him having that expression silenced the whole table. It was normal for you to be grumpy and frown at every little thing, so you understand why Hobi reacted like that, as it might have been rude for him when you said something about his childhood pictures. You facepalmed yourself when no one was looking. It looks like you've gotten better at making these guys uncomfortable with unsolicited comments ever since you started to feel at ease around them. Well done, you.

The group decided to play a card game while enjoying dessert, and it soon became tense and competitive. It was a wonderful change to hear laughing and playful banter fill the Jung family's living room. During one particularly heated and power-up-heavy round, Jimin noticed his friend shifting in his seat.

“You okay?” He asks in a hushed voice despite the risk of being barely audible because of the commotion on the table.

Jungkook gave him a quick glance before smiling briefly. “Yeah, just thinking about something.” He was considering what you had said to him. He noticed that you appeared hesitant to provide him that advice, and he thinks he understands why. Nevertheless, he appreciated your attempt and the fact that it was done in good faith. Once again, he's grateful that you and Minyoung didn't avoid him because he's been an insufferable prick for no apparent reason..

“You’re thinking? That’s new.” Jimin joked around and earned a playful nudge in return. There was silence between the two as they quietly took their own turns in the game and let the others carry all the playful conversations. “You wanna talk about it? ” He asks tentatively while pretending to watch the others play; he even notices Jin sneaking a glance at Namjoon's cards before returning to his own, but Yoongi had also snuck a glance at his cards while he was distracted. Jimin shook his head in disbelief at his friends.

“Actually..” Jungkook trailed off. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I finally want to talk about it.” He says.

Jimin hums in response. “Okay. Should we break off from the group or-” Jungkook cut him off frantically before he finished, rubbing at his nape.

“N-no. I was thinking.. I was thinking of finally telling everyone about what happened.” He said. Jimin had his mouth agape at his friend’s revelation. Among this group of friends, only him and Taehyung knew about Jungkook’s situation with his teammates. They found it difficult when Jungkook obstinately refused their assurances that what had happened was not his fault. Perhaps some new perspectives on the matter could be helpful. Perhaps if it came from recently made friends, he would believe them.

It would be too much for Jungkook, he thinks, to tell you and Minyoung the story and then maybe have to tell it to the others again. He figures it would be best to take care of everything at once, much like ripping off a band aid.

“Are you sure?” Jimin tries to give him an out in the event that he doesn’t really want to do this, but he just nods.

“Okay. You can ask Tae or myself to take over if you find it too difficult to recount the story. " Jimin gives his friend a reassuring shoulder pat, prompting a hesitant nod.

Looking around the table, Jungkook considers how he will abruptly bring up a serious topic in the midst of laughter. He was on the verge of fleeing out of fear that he could destroy the mood and his friends' opinion of him. He was aware that doing this might disrupt the dynamics of the group. When he has finished telling them everything and they decide they don't like him and want to cut all ties with him, he will let them do just that. At least the friendship wasn't old enough to have caused a wound that deep yet. He knew Jimin and Tae would be by him no matter what, which is also comforting.

He tries to test whether anyone would notice by clearing his throat once, but in the past few minutes, the group has only grown rowdier due to Jin's alleged cheating. Taehyung, who was more attentive of his friends, saw him and then made an effort to make everyone quiet.

"Jungkook, did you have anything to say?" he inquired loudly enough to get the group's attention, and all of a sudden, heads turned to look at him. He senses the attention making his blood run cold and his hand tremble, but he braces himself. However, he was cut off before he could speak.

"I promise I wasn't looking! Are your playing cards nearly finished?" Jin stretches out and flips Jungkook's cards that were on the table.

“Ayy, these aren’t even good cards, you have been bound to lose with these.”

After that, chaos reigned yet again.

“See, you just cheated again! ”

"No, I didn't. I simply provided him with advice."

“Boo! You’re disqualified! ”

In response to the chaos, Jungkook finds himself actually giggling. Though he hasn't known these people for very long, he feels as though he can trust them in some way. But he also thinks that losing them would hurt, so he felt a tiny tightness in his chest.

“I did want to say something. And it has nothing to do with the cards.” He begins, and the group quiets down again, but he does not feel the heaviness in the air this time. He glances around the table and finds them looking at him expectantly, as if they are genuinely interested in hearing him out. He regained his composure and braced himself once more.

“It’s about what happened last year..”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

“You’re late again!” The captain scolds the boy and throws the ball at his head, letting it bounce off and back to his hands.

“Sorry, sorry! I had to run some errands before leaving.” He says and Jungkook, from afar, sighs at the sight of his sunbae being scolded again. 

“You’re lucky you’re a star player, or else I’d give you more shit for this.” The captain says with a shake of his head.

“Wah, look at you being scolded in front of your juniors! How embarrassing!” His batchmate teases, sending everyone into light laughter.

His seniors had usually argued endlessly during training, but everyone knew it was just friendly banter, so it was entertaining to see. Additionally, it improved group dynamics and helped the younger teammates feel comfortable.

Once his Doyun sunbae was done running laps around the court as punishment for being late, he approached Jungkook with a smack on the back.

“Sorry for being late when I promised to run some plays with you.” The older one says with an easy smile. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, hyung. What’s so important that you’re always late to weekend training?” He asked in an irritated tone and shifted his body away from the older guy. He is often irritated by his hyung's repeated promises to assist him in improving his plays but frequently arrives to practice too late. His senior was constantly eager to leave training as soon as it ended, so after-practice hours were off the table as well. He exhales. How was he going to get the attention of his seniors now that he was running for captain of the following year? He hasn't had many chances to demonstrate to them how much he has developed since his first year.

“Yah! Don't treat your sunbae that way! I have a life outside of volleyball, you know?” He said in a defensive tone and one of his batchmates overheard Doyun say this.

“Psh! Even I am aware that is untrue. Volleyball is your life," the guy exclaimed, drawing amusement from others.

“I’ll ask for some personal training time from the captain right now. I gotta make it up to little Jungkook here somehow.” Doyun wraps his arm around the younger’s shoulders and ruffles his hair with the other. Jungkook pries himself off from his hyung before huffing in annoyance.

“I want to practice some quick attacks today.” Jungkook said flatly and went on his merry way, asking Jimin to toss some balls for him.

Doyun was left chuckling at the younger boy’s demands. “He’s quite straightforward, isn't he? Think he’d make for a good captain? ” He remarks, to which the others hum in agreement.

The training was effective at least, and this time Doyun kept his word and gave Jungkook today a lot of assistance. Since they were paired up during practice when Jungkook was still trying out for the volleyball team, he was his closest hyung from the team. He was forced to acknowledge how much of the credit for his rapid progress goes to his hyung.

Doyun wasn't always so disloyal to his commitments. During the freshman year of the three, he actually trained frequently with Jungkook and occasionally even Jimin and Taehyung. He’d tell the younger boys about his dream to play professionally and get recruited into his dream team, and also to give them advice on how to play better. Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s taken quite a liking to his hyung’s presence, despite showing otherwise. He is thankful for having someone to rely on who has more experience than him in the field. He’s like the brother he never had.

However, this year, he had been more evasive, appeared to be constantly on guard, and had been in a hurry to leave every single training session. Jungkook was curious as to what was causing the older guy to act this way, especially when they were nearing the last games of the winter sports season, where there were gonna be professional recruiters, and it was the senior members’ last games of their high school life as well. 

Doyun abruptly excused himself one day to the captain as they were still wrapping up the training and he hurriedly left the gym, oblivious to his batchmates' remarks that he should at least wait until everyone was prepared to leave. When Jungkook noticed it, a strong surge of curiosity about why his hyung is acting in this manner swept over him. He quickly puts on his jacket and makes his way to the gym's exit, earning some questioning yells from Jimin and Taehyung to which he acknowledges with a raise of hand. He then follows the diminutive figure that he believes to be his hyung because he has already traveled a considerable distance.

He was chasing the older man while taking quick, frigid breaths of cold air that pierced his lungs. He had to exercise caution because there were certain areas of the walkway that were slippery; as a result, he nearly fell several times. He succeeds in catching up, though he makes sure to keep a safe distance from Doyun so as not to be seen stalking him. He knows the older man would tell him off when he finds out.

They were nearing a neighboring park after traveling a fair distance into a small neighborhood, and he started to question if this was even a good idea; maybe his hyung was right, he was just busy with other stuff about his personal life. But when Jungkook notices Doyun raising the hood of his jacket, he senses something was off. He continued on following him without trying to give it any attention. Not long after, a group of men his hyung's age emerged from a nearby tree. He immediately noticed his Doyun hyung, who instantly stopped in his tracks, and consequently, he stopped as well. He hides behind a nearby tree as he sees Doyun get stopped in the middle of attempting to walk past the group of guys.

He hears them speaking to his sunbae, and at first the talk is quiet and civil, but as it heats up, the group steadily encircles Doyun in an effort to intimidate him. It appeared to work, which surprised Jungkook. Doyun was typically a laid-back person who laughed a lot and smiled a lot, but everyone who knew him knew that he wasn't the kind to let people walk all over him. Now that he’s seeing him in this light, the looming feeling of dread creeps up in his gut yet again. Doyun wouldn’t be the type to get caught up in gang affairs, would he? He thinks to himself and his hands balled up into tight fists. It would explain his behavior these past few months, though.

When he notices someone pushing Doyun back and making him stumble, he instinctively steps forward. Jungkook realized that this was going to escalate into a fight, and his heartbeat quickened. Before he could decide what to do, he finds himself in a direct confrontation with a member of the group.

“What the hell are you doing to him?” He hears his own voice shout but doesn’t realize that he actually spoke and how he got here.

“Y-yah! What are you doing here!” Doyun grabs the front of his jacket and pulls him.

“Well would you look at that. Is this another one of your brothers? How about we ask him for the money then?” The one who seemed to be the leader of the group eyes Jungkook up and down.

“Leave him alone, he’s not my brother.” Doyun stood in a defensive stance in front of Jungkook which told the guys otherwise.

“Is that right?” The guy brings back his eyes to Jungkook intimidatingly, “But maybe we can still get something out of him. Make him pay for your brother’s debt like a good little friend, hmm?”

Doyun grabbed the leader's collar while two men each grabbed one of Jungkook's arms to hold him down. “I told you to leave him alone, he has nothing to do with this!” He uttered hastily.

The guy punched Doyun in the face, making Jungkook gasp. “Hyung!” He sees blood spill out from the older guy’s mouth and he feels his blood run cold.

“If you gave us our money back, then we wouldn’t be having this problem. You’re really gonna let your brother cower behind your back? How about you bring him to us so he can pay the consequences of his actions.” The guy shoves his pointer finger on Doyun’s forehead, pushing it repeatedly to accent his point. Jungkook sees Doyun clench his jaw so hard he thought it was gonna break.

There were a few seconds of calm when Doyun abruptly threw a punch after slowly rising upright. The subsequent events happened quickly. As the men gather around Doyun, Jungkook finds himself being pushed aside and his body hitting the dirt. In the haste of the situation, he finds himself grabbing a stray piece of long wood and striking several of the men painfully to get them off Doyun, who threw more punches and kicks once he got an opening. They managed to take down enough of them to be able to flee, and Jungkook doesn't recall how it happened, but he finds himself being dragged by his hyung to escape the fight.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Doyun said between catching his breath, still running away. He looks back and sees them being followed and he curses lightly before increasing their pace.

They thought they were in the clear when they stopped on the side of the road. They were both huffing and puffing with their hands resting on their knees, catching their breath. Jungkook looked back and cursed to himself when he saw one of the guys spot them and call out to their companions.

“They saw us hyung, let’s go!” He didn’t bother grabbing his hyung and ran to get a head start. As he was running away he heard someone yell out to him, and a bright light coming from his left. He felt someone pushing him from the back and he painfully landed on the concrete, but nothing hurt more than the sight he saw of Doyun’s body being hit by the car.

Everything moved slowly, and he could hear his ears ringing. He watches the gang members panic and flee the scene, hears cries to get an ambulance, witnesses blue and red lights flashing against the now-darkened surroundings, and hears someone ask him if he was okay.

The rest of it is lost to memory, but when he awoke from his haze, he was sitting in a hospital waiting room covered in bandages, and it wasn't until he was by himself that he finally broke down.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

They listened to Jungkook as he told the story with his head down and avoided making eye contact with the others. The room, which had earlier been alive with voices, was now completely silent.

“He ended up with broken bones all over his body. Inevitably, he couldn’t play the rest of the championship games that season; It’d take months for him to fully recover, and months of physical therapy if they could determine he could ever play again.” He says with a husky tone, his energy being drained with every second he spends talking about this.

“He was our star player, and he held the team together more than we realized. So when we went into the games without him, adding the fact that morale was low and tensions were high inside the team because of the incident, we messed up so much during the games and we… lost everything.

“Seniors who were competing for spots on professional and collegiate teams saw all of their chances to get recruited all go down the drain. All thanks to me. All because I made the decision to be nosy on that specific day.” He began to sob uncontrollably, his shoulders shaking, covering his face with both hands as his voice broke. The group was quick to gravitate towards him and reach their hand out to comfort him, not saying anything as they all know words would not be enough right now.

"The worst part was that nobody was held accountable—not even me, who was clearly responsible for everything. My other batchmates disagree, and even though they didn't bother to learn the whole story, they have since grown to dislike me. It affected how I handled the team as a captain, and I eventually started hating myself for that, too." He struggled to continue through his tears, his words stopped short by breath intake.

He’d asked for a suspension from the coach himself once he told him everything that happened, and he’s been benched for a few games because of it. It helped ease his guilt but it wasn’t enough. Nearly not enough for the damage he had caused.

He sobbed harder, clutching his chest as his breath came in heaves, "I guess they just punished me by making me captain, and letting the others walk all over me because of what I did."

Jimin gives him a soothing back rub and waits for him to catch his breath before speaking.

"That's just untrue. They didn't point the finger at anyone specifically since there was no one to blame," He says. "It was an accident. And because they recognized your abilities, they chose you to be captain."

"Even before that incident, there were discussions about electing you," Taehyung continued. It was what they’ve always told him about this, but he always seemed to never believe them. 

“The seniors all managed to get into good teams despite everything because there have been more games that showcased their talents. They admitted to us they were regretful sometimes, but it was the best they could get out of the situation.” Jimin adds.

There were a few more seconds of silence and ruminating about all that has been said before someone spoke again.

“Maybe it really was your fault.” They heard your small voice cut through the silence, and they all looked at you with wide eyes in shock. Even Jungkook felt his tears retract back to his ducts in astonishment.

“W-what?” He manages to blurt out.

You avert your eyes awkwardly. “I-I mean, knowing Jimin and Taehyung, the opposite is probably what they had always told you..” You told him in a progressively smaller voice.

“And the reason why you never believed them before is because maybe that’s not what you wanted to hear.” You add, this time not looking at anyone.

Namjoon chuckles, which surprised everyone. “I actually agree.” He says, now making him the subject of wide eyed stares. “I could elaborate, but that’s only if you want us to continue.” He asks Jungkook. He sniffs a little and wipes his cheek in a childlike manner that made everyone smile before he nodded.

“Based on what you told us, it’s highly likely that you were at fault.” Namjoon continued and Jungkook felt tears prick his eyes.

“Uhm, guys-” Taehyung tries to look around for help, thinking that this was going in a very different direction.

“But!” Namjoon cuts him off. “But, it was a variety of factors that contributed to the outcome if you think about it.” He props his thumb and pointer finger in a thinking pose.

“Right. If you blame yourself for it, then a lot of things were at fault too, aside from you. It was the car, maybe even the weather that made the streets slippery. It could even be Doyun sunbae for not reaching out to anyone about his situation, but I reckon that’s on the bottom of the list.” Minyoung says as she nods, trying to really drive the point.

“But you know, if we’re really blaming anyone here, it’d be the gang members’ fault. They intimidated and threatened you first, and you guys just tried to defend yourselves and run away.” Hoseok adds.

“Hmmm. Maybe it’d be good for you to acknowledge that you were at fault so you can heal, but just keep in mind that it’s not just you. It was a series of bad circumstances that led to that event.” Yoongi says as he fiddles with a pack of brownies in front of him.

Unbeknownst to himself, Jungkook has now ceased sobbing entirely. As he found himself paying close attention to what his colleagues were saying, a deep part of him began to relax.

“Have you spoken to any of them? The sunbaes, I mean.” Minyoung asks as she gets back to munching on sweets, trying to ease everyone into going back to being casual so as to not add to the gloomy atmosphere.

“He did with everyone except Doyun, that’s how we knew they didn’t blame anyone.” Jimin spoke for him.

“Why not? Doyun sunbae seems nice from what I’ve seen.” Minyoung replies.

“That’s exactly the reason. I never attempted since he would be too kind to hold me responsible for anything. I'm also too embarrassed to show my face after what I've done to him and the team.” Jungkook says dejectedly, his eyes drooping slightly now that all the crying had caught up to him.

“Hmmm. How do you know that’s how he’ll react? You said you never tried talking to him.” Yoongi says calmly.

“Right! You didn’t even give him a chance to blame you, either!” Hoseok says in a too cheerful voice, earning a nudge from you.

“I mean, if he blames you, that’s his decision to make, no? But you didn’t even give him that option by avoiding him.” He clarifies.

“I hate to agree, but he’s right. Maybe the best thing to do is to talk with him.” You said in a light tone.

Jungkook ruminates on everything that was said. He had more space in his head and heart to consider everything now that everything was out in the open. They were all right about this. He should go and apologize to Doyun, and what comes out of his apology is out of his hands. He’ll accept whatever happens and try finally move past this, focus on dealing with the now. 

Everyone had resumed their easy talk when he turned to gaze around the table. They do not hate him. They still don't hate him despite what he told them. Even if they had believed he was at fault, they left no trace of their judgment or intention to cut him off. He experienced tremendous relief. While you're having a chat with Minyoung, he catches your eye, which makes you double back and look at him questioningly. You offer him a small nod, and he does the same.

“Look, I still receive Doyun hyung’s emails. We can contact him to meet; he goes to college in a nearby town.” Taehyung says casually while showing his phone, with a mouthful of chocolate-covered strawberries in his mouth, earning a fond smile from Jungkook.

“Last I heard, physical therapy was going well, and that maybe they’d finally let him play in the upcoming inter-collegiate season.” Jimin adds, snatching a strawberry from Taehyung (to his annoyance) and showing it in his mouth.

“Will you guys accompany me when I decide to meet up with him?” Jungkook asks and Jimin clicks his tongue as if that were a ridiculous question.

“Of course, dumbass. We’re always here for you.” He says before leaning forward to stop the tug of war that broke out between Jin and Hobi over a piece of jelly.

Amidst all the chaos, Jungkook smiles. 

We'll all be there for you. He hears your voice say. Suddenly, he doesn't remember what he was so afraid of.

You were right.

-

Yoongi's only ever been with one woman his entire life.

Ever since he turned old enough to introduce someone to his parents without them mistaking it for puppy love, which in his case was at seventeen years old, Yoongi quickly realized that he doesn’t ever want to introduce anyone other than Haein.

Yoongi, at his fresh age of seventeen, made a pact to himself to never bring someone home again if it’s not Haein, because bothering a nineteen-year old you for your own house slippers to lend to his girlfriend (he didn’t want to spend his allowance buying a nice pair when he could just sacrifice his dignity by groveling at your feet for it) was too much of a hassle.

He didn’t like the fuss that came with forming crushes. Yoongi’s spent countless nights scrutinizing his first love’s actions during recess and microanalyzing her tone towards him from the morning earlier— he doesn’t want to go through any of that again. 

He doesn’t want the grown-up equivalent of it either, because all throughout high school and some bits of college wherein he and Haein were together and totally not broken up in a perpetual on-off cycle as usual, Yoongi thought that he was set for life with her.

Unlike you, he hasn’t had his share of multiple first kisses. Yoongi, not even once, stepped into a bar with wandering eyes and a hopeful perk to his tone. He hasn’t worried about making first impressions again, nor has he ever had to ask how many people came into the picture before him.

In Yoongi’s eyes, it’s only been Haein the entire time. There’s no before, during, and after her, even if the last phase in time is just something he hopes for and is not set into stone. 

It’s still Haein for him, the kind, starry-eyed girl that wore your house slippers when she stepped foot into his childhood home for the first time to meet his parents, and it’s been her ever since.

It’s still her, because she never knew that the slippers she wore was actually yours, which made it her one and only designated pair, so much so that she even took it with her when she moved in with Yoongi in their shared apartment.

It’s still her, because you’ve gone through multiple pairs ever since, and so did the boyfriends you took home to meet your family.

It’s still Haein, because Yoongi hasn’t moved on from her even if they broke up for good (or atleast that’s what you’ve heard in verbatim and what Yoongi refuses to confirm) a year ago.

"There's nothing wrong with being with someone new," you snort, your tone bordering on condescending to which Yoongi predicted correctly, simply because you’ve had this conversation a million times already. 

You told him that in your attempt to comfort him when Haein broke up with him back on the second semester of their first year in college, wherein he found himself wailing against your sheets at your dorm.

You told him that in your attempt to appease him when he broke up with her during their junior year, wherein he had to wipe at his tears furiously before fixing his tie because it was only hours before your graduation and both your parents downstairs are calling for a picture.

You tell it to him now too, in your attempt to convince both Yoongi and yourself, as he starfishes on your couch while reminiscing what could’ve been another anniversary (albeit choppy and not at all continuous) of the first time they held hands.

"Yes there is," he groans, his emotions maturing enough not to cry helplessly unlike the past breakups, but not enough to stop glomming onto you. “I don't want to talk about my favorite color again. I don't want to answer how many siblings I have. I don't want to be asked the extremely quirky question of whether I think pineapple belongs on pizza or not, again!"

"It's only normal to introduce yourself again and again until you find the right one for you!" you laugh, your self-built amusement keeping the entire situation light for you because if you don’t find a way to distract yourself from Yoongi holding onto Haein pathetically, just like how you do so with him, you’d be as devastated as him.

You’d be devastated too if you realize that there’s little to no chance of earning back the only person you’ve ever truly loved, if not more— except you’re not Yoongi, and he’s not Haein.

What you have to go through is more devastating because Yoongi’s never really been yours in the first place.

"But I want Haein to be right for me," he whines, his eyes sleepy from all the fatigue that comes with driving all the way to your place, just so he could be miserable around you and not apart from you. “Even if she's not, I want it to be her."

You’re quiet for awhile, and Yoongi doubts your silence because you’ve only ever chewed his ear off whenever he started moping about Haein. He’s noticed it ever since you were young; you’d never let a single second pass without overwhelming him with your words whenever he thought too deeply, too lowly about anything. You didn’t give him a break to even think when it comes to times like these, so Yoongi grows even more concerned when you give him a break.

He’s used to the noise that is you trying to distract him from everything that pains him.

"For the record, you already did those things twice in your life,” you murmur after some time, looking up from the glass of wine that Yoongi poured you and bought for your collection before he made the decision of crashing out over Haein in your living room.

"Oh my god, did I kiss someone while I was drunk? When you dragged me out for drinks last week? When-… when it was, uh, when it was the anniversary of me and her moving in and-…”

"No, you monogamous asshole," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. "You did it with Haein."

"What are you talking about?" Yoongi tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend what you’re saying.

You still look annoyed at him, as you’ve always done whenever he comes to you crying about her, but now, you look more subdued; like you’re a little more melancholic for god knows what reason (Yoongi knows it’s definitely not about him and Haein’s breakup), and a little less agitated at having to have this conversation for the nth time.

"I knew you first, Yoongi," you remind faintly, shoulders offering a weak shrug. "You had to do it all over again for Haein when she came into your life, but I don't see you complaining."

Yoongi hits pause on his agony to frown slightly, sitting up on your couch in order to nudge you with his shoulder. ”But that's different because I grew up knowing you. It's only natural for you to know me this way.”

The snort that leaves you borders on offensive, and Yoongi automatically narrows his eyes when he senses the hint of sarcasm in your smirk.

”You mean know you as intimately as your one and only girlfriend did? Maybe even more than Haein actually does know you?"

"If you put it that way it sounds weird, but yeah," Yoongi scoffs defensively, crossing his arms on his chest before looking up at the high ceilings of your apartment in surrender. “Aren't just close friends basically lovers without the formalities?"

Yoongi’s only ever been with one woman his entire life.

You figure it’s because of that so he doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

You figure it’s because of Haein’s monopoly on his feelings and experiences that you convince yourself that Yoongi hasn’t been kicked around enough, to realize that what he’s saying is enough for you to assume a higher, closer place in his life.

You figure that Yoongi only knows love because of Haein and not love itself, enough for him to tell you that being close friends with him is the equivalent of loving him in that light, only without the coveted crown that comes with being his first and only love that Haein still possesses.

"You're right," you mutter, downing the rest of your wine and the assumption that Yoongi knows it’s him whom your hearts yearns for. "It does sound weird when you put it that way."

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s a manny. 

More specifically and less confusingly, Yoongi’s a male nanny and he enjoys the job.

When you graduated two years earlier than he did, all he talked about was how happy and envious he was for you over being born earlier than him. He told you that you were unfair (and so were your parents) by bringing you to the world earlier and not as the same time as him, even detailing how he wants to be just a day older than you instead of you being ahead by two full birthdays.

When you graduated two years earlier than him, proving just how lucky you were (even if Yoongi argues that it’s your sheer intellect and not something as silly as luck) by landing a coveted job, all Yoongi could talk about was how he wanted to follow in your footsteps.

He’s not in the place where you are now, and although neither of you are bitter about it, some part of Yoongi still thinks what could’ve been.

“I should’ve never brought it up,” you apologize sincerely, nudging him with your knee to get the point across because you didn’t really mean to throw him into a loop.

You’re sure that Taehyung, your colleague who’s one year your junior and knew both you and Yoongi from college, didn’t really mean to offend the latter either, or atleast that’s what you think. 

You only opened up about your brush-up with Taehyung in the elevator because it was your first time bumping into each other having worked in the same company for so long, and you thought (read: thought) that Yoongi would be amused about the interaction too.

You thought that Yoongi would be amused about your encounter with Taehyung because the third question he asks you (the first asking how you were doing and the second asking if you were single) ventures straight to Yoongi and what he was up to. 

You thought he’d be amused that Taehyung still remembers how the both of you were attached to the hip despite being apart in year levels, but with the way Yoongi scowls (even for just the briefest second), you knew that you hit a sore spot. 

“Nah. It’s okay,” Yoongi exhales, glossing over the random question of Taehyung asking if you were taken before willing himself to forget it completely, and moving onto the facet that you thought offended him. “It pays well, honestly. I didn’t think I would ever score a job like this.”

“Me neither,” you shrug lightly, being relieved when you see the playful roll of Yoongi’s eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he whines, throwing his head back in faux annoyance, to which he may or may not attribute to Hwayoung’s (one of the children he looks after) tendencies.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Yoongs. It’s just that, well, I pictured that you’d be this hotshot data analyst, or I.T, or something equally as technical and now-…” you trail off, the smile in your face genuine. “You’re a hotshot nanny.”

“This wasn’t my dream. You knew that,” he snorts, asserting his point by once again bringing up your extensive knowledge about him. “But I was just strapped for cash this one time, and I was behind on rent and my stupid, complicated job at my old company didn’t pay on time– then you already knew about my neighbors being these newlyweds with twin babies and before I knew it, I was looking after them! I was making bank by staying up like I’ve always done, and I get an audience when I’m talking to myself!”

Yoongi doesn’t overestimate your familiarity for him, and neither does he overestimate your sincerity towards his decisions. You judge him, sure (you’ve never made your annoyance for his weakness for Haein and his affinity for their backwards-moving relationship a secret), but you’ve never actually discouraged him from anything.

You didn’t talk him out of getting back with Haein all those breakups ago.

You didn’t talk him out of applying for unrelated jobs outside of his degree.

You don’t talk Yoongi out of anything, even anyone, that’s capable of bringing him joy.

“You love what you’re doing and you’re earning a shit ton. You don’t have to be affected by what an old classmate is asking.”

“That old classmate is working in the same Fortune Global 500 company as you are,” he chuckles just a little bit bitterly, making you nudge his knee a little harder this time. “But still,” he deadpans. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it. I can consider this as practice anyway.”

“You’re… opening up a babysitting company…?”

“Stupid,” Yoongi snickers, squeezing your knee tightly before his hold disappears. “No! I mean practice before I have a family in the future!” he laughs, shaking his head at you as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world; as if his optimism for a future with Haein isn’t persistent. “I don’t know what’s Haein’s take on working if we ever do have children, but either way, it’s nice to know that I already have the basics mastered.”

Whenever you least expect it, even if you should know by now after spending so much of your life with Yoongi, he reminds you of your place.

“You and Haein aren’t even together now,” you mutter, keeping your gaze low.

“Can you shut up?” Yoongi groans, slouching in his seat. “I’m not saying we’re gonna have a family now. I’m saying maybe we’ll have one in the future.”

“But you’ve been broken up for years.”

“Again, Y/N,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, the playfulness between the two of you slowly but surely dissipating. “I need you to be quiet.”

( ♡ ) 

Your parents like throwing thanksgiving parties for you and your siblings.

It’s quite literally the joint event for all seasons because your parents don’t even dare to set out cake for anyone outside of your family to eat when the holidays come, promising to make the party they excessively fuss about to be an umbrella for the rest that they miss throughout the year.

It’s an event that none of you really asked for but your parents insist on anyway; mostly to celebrate their accomplished children, and just a tiny bit more to brag about the lives they’ve managed to cultivate.

Yoongi, like for every other thanksgiving party that your parents have thrown, shows up in his most prized suit. It’s his most expensive and cleanest one to date, and it’s a suit that he reserves only for your parents’ shenanigans; not for a relative’s wedding, and not for a rich friend’s event either — he wears it just for you.

“I’d hate to be your unemployed cousin during this time of the year,” he jokes, being unable to look around the room without locking eyes with atleast one of your relatives or mutual friends and waving at them, yet Yoongi’s not really peeved about it at all.

“Yeah, that side of the family hates us,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening when you realize that you have nothing to be anxious about, especially when you’re just across the person who knows you the most.

You have your fun in these thanksgiving parties, and Yoongi has his own. Your definition of fun means owning up to your achievements and not attributing them to luck, poking fun at your siblings behind their backs, and maybe striking up a conversation or two with a family friend that you forgot was more handsome than you thought he’d be.

Yoongi’s fun on the other hand, only ever revolved around you and Haein when it comes to these parties. Now that the latter wasn’t invited this year and he’s not capable of trailing after her like a puppy, feeling like an outcast amongst a sea of accomplished individuals, Yoongi can now trail after you, feeling like he belongs.

“Look at my parents. They keep boasting about you so much, you’d think they gave birth to you,” he nods his head to them, talking your aunt’s ear off as they keep gesturing to you, grinning when you catch their gaze.

“I don’t look at you as a brother. Gross!” your nose scrunches, making Yoongi roll his eyes and subsequently kick you lightly in the shin.

The two of you, thankfully, are okay. The awkward conversation that transpired about Taehyung’s curiosity and Yoongi’s own insistence of a future with Haein seems to never have sprung up in the first place.

You’ve known each other for a lifetime; it only felt appropriate, nevermind unhealthy, to let familiarity take its toll to make the two of you complacent enough to not apologize to each other and still be okay by the next day.

“My parents didn’t graduate college, but you knew that already,” Yoongi talks, gaze still holding out to his parents from a distance like it’s a stare he can’t break off because his eyes feel too comfortable. “They found a lot of things– a lot of people annoying because they made them feel inferior, but we never felt that way with your family, y’know?”

You’re not one to deny the distance between you and Yoongi; everything from your age difference, to how your childhood house overlooked his, and even to the feelings you share and don’t share, there’s an imbalance the two of you would never be able to tip.

“Your parents are genuine, close friends with my own, and your family never pitied ours,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in gratitude as he does so.

“I know that,” you return the sincerity, eyes set on his while his gaze is directed elsewhere. “But where’s all this coming from?”

“I see the way you look at me,” Yoongi shrugs, the second that it takes him to turn his attention to you making you falter.

You don’t know if you’re more scared or relieved at the possibility of Yoongi knowing about your feelings.

“And how do I look at you?” you test the waters, tilting at your head to try and closely gauge the tiny smile on his lips, but you come up empty.

“I can’t tell exactly, but you always look at me with some sort of guilt.”

“Why would I look at you with guilt?” a breathless laugh escapes you, the ease plastered on his face making you more and more pressured.

“I don’t know either! You tell me,” Yoongi laughs brightly, slinging an arm across your shoulder to which no one bats an eye to, because although they don’t know the two of you as well as you know each other, they have a semblance of it.

They know how you and Yoongi are friends; how you and Yoongi are close friends who are basically lovers without the formalities.

“We’ve known each other for a lifetime, Y/N. There’s nothing about one another that could surprise us anymore.”

“That sounds so boring,” you mutter, the words slipping out of you before you could even control them, effectively dampening the sentimental mood that Yoongi’s in.

“Excuse me?” he asks, a little bit offended but a lot more hurt over your comment.

“We’re not always gonna be the same, Yoongi,” you continue, staring at your feet with your voice low because it’s not like you can retract your words anymore; they’re as out there as you are when it comes to loving Yoongi silently.

“Do you… not want to be friends with me anymore?” he whispers, arm suddenly stalling as he tries to deduct whatever the hell you could possibly mean.

“Where did that come from?”

Yoongi chuckles uneasily, almost regretful he even said that outloud in fear of manifesting it. 

“I don’t– I-I don’t know! It’s just weird with the way you’re talking. Like you purposely want us to change.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” he emphasizes. “If you’re already comfortable with the life that you have now, you don’t need to change,” Yoongi blinks slowly, unfamiliar with the way your eyes lack emotion. “I have you. I have the manny job. I have Haein.”

You’re quiet as you let Yoongi think and simmer in whatever he had to say, and he hates it.

“Is this life not enough for you yet?” he asks hesitantly, the premature scoff that leaves his throat making the bitterness linger for the slightest second. “What more could you want?”

You want to say it’s only him whom you lack, but you stay quiet.

You give Yoongi both the silence and the space to think, and he realizes that he’s never wanted to be overwhelmed by you more.

( ♡ ) 

Things have been awkward between you and Yoongi.

You didn’t mean to sound beyond ungrateful and out of touch, but simply (and maybe even arrogantly) put, Yoongi just didn’t get it. 

He didn’t get where you were coming from because he’s only stayed in one place long enough to call her his future. He didn’t get what you could be possibly going through because Yoongi only longs for comfort and not change because the latter wouldn’t benefit him in any way.

He’s right about him having the manny job makes him happy because he gets a heavy check and a learning experience. He’s also right, even if he’s rarely accurate when faced with her, about having Haein because you figure that if you were in his position, you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

If you were anything like Yoongi by having had the privilege of harboring the person you love and the life-long burden of having to yearn for her, you would be satisfied too.

It’s been a full week since the two of you talked and it’s the longest you ever went without any communication. There’s no texts coming from your end, but there had been plenty of it coming from Yoongi’s.

Yoongi, your best friend, knows that you didn’t end your thanksgiving party in the happiest note because he happened. He felt apologetic about it ever since because he didn’t mean to sound self-absorbed to the point of projecting his selfishness onto you; painting you as the villain would be the last thing he’ll ever do because he knew that between the two of you, you were the stronger one.

You’re the more rational, focused one who studied the same degree as he did, yet actually amounted to something infinitely more even if he’s the younger one who had more opportunities than you ever did.

You’re the more unyielding one between the two of you, because you can stomach ignoring him for a week while he’s about to lose his mind.

Yoongi could send a hundred more texts wherein he pretends to have mistakenly sent a discreet, low-lying sorry to you (because the two of you barely ever apologized to each other) instead of another person. He could react to a message of yours from two months ago just to try and see if you would comment on it.

He could even call you by Haein’s name just to purposely piss you off because he’d settle for anything if it meant breaking you out of your silent treatment, yet you don’t even move an inch whether he calls you on your phone or lingers in the coffee shop you frequent at in your workplace.

Yoongi can pull a hundred different reasons with most of them involving how he’s running errands with the children he looks after. He can say that Hwayoung knows your name (and he’s not lying about it either) and that she asked where you worked, and the both of them just happened to be in the area during their morning walk. He can say every excuse under the sun just to try and get you to talk to him, but you won’t budge.

Yoongi doesn’t like change but he likes the days wherein you rant to him about your day and ask how his went, just like every week before this one. He doesn’t like growth in the guise of everything he’s comfortable with being stripped away, but he likes the nights wherein he could call you and ask you to look after the children in the living room while he goes to the bathroom, when really, he’s just standing from a distance to look at you coo at them.

So when Yoongi got the call from your brother, asking him for a favor to look after your nephew if only he was free for the day (he wasn’t, but he made it work nonetheless), he immediately jumped at the chance of maybe, just maybe seeing you drop by at your family’s home.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says under his breath when he locks eyes with you in the nursery, your presence only being a surprise to him alone because he didn’t think you were staying with your parents the entire week when normally, you’d be a little high-strung staying with them after three consecutive days.

“Just been busy. Sorry,” you reply quietly, your apology only being an afterthought because you’re unsure who’s at fault.

“Me too,” Yoongi clears his throat, bouncing your sleeping nephew on his arms as he indiscreetly makes his way to you. “I’m sorry too, I mean.”

It’s weird for the both of you to apologize to each other.

It’s weird for you to see Yoongi in your childhood house and have no one question his presence, because the scene of him cradling your brother’s baby with a cloth strewn over his shoulder and your sister’s headband on his head to keep his hair away from his face, only looks right.

It’s weird for Yoongi to see you so torn up over him, and it’s even weirder that all the anger he had towards you for ignoring him just immediately dissipated.

Yoongi puts your nephew down on his crib with a precise gentleness to him, his hands cramping up not because he spent so long trying to get him to calm down, but because he doesn’t ever know what to do with them whenever you face him.

“You didn’t have to do this for my brother, y’know? You shouldn’t feel pressured to say yes just because he asked,” you clear your throat, filling the silence in with your voice that Yoongi has missed so badly.

“What are you talking about? I’m not on the clock right now,” Yoongi furrows his brows, the frown on his face evident. “I’m not here as a manny. I’m here as an uncle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he snorts, the snarky expression from him cutting through the tension between you. You could just throw your head back out of relief, knowing that Yoongi’s not that mad at you, but the both of you know you’re far from the clear.

You’re far from the clear when you don’t make a single move to come towards him across the room, even if it’s the only thing you wanted to do the past week.

You know you’re far from the clear and even further from moving on when it’s Yoongi who comes to you, his pace slow yet definitive, his fists unclenched for once as he practically leaps towards you in the end.

It takes one, two seconds for you to realize that although it’s Yoongi who made the first move to get close to you, it’s you who puts your hands on his cheeks, forehead rested against his with your eyes closed, tightly. Painfully.

Yoongi opens his eyes when you do, staying in your grasp even if he realizes that you almost kissed.

“You can read my mind, Yoongi, right?” you whisper, pulling apart briefly to look up at him, yet close nonetheless because you could still practically hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Yeah,” he swallows the lump in his throat, the hand he has around your waist loosening for just a fraction of a second, yet you don’t need it— you don’t need him to unravel further to confirm what you’ve always known.

“So I don’t need to say it out loud,” you smile tightly, the shaky sigh that leaves you making Yoongi’s lips purse out of guilt. “So I don’t need to say it out loud that I love you,” you say in your mind, eyes already stinging even if Yoongi hasn’t let go of you yet.

“You don’t,” he affirms, his voice hoarse as his hand on your waist still doesn’t budge, the other cradling your wrist because he can’t decipher if it’s him wanting to keep your hand on his face, or if it’s him keeping you away. “You can read my mind too, right?”

You nod earnestly, the smile that he gives you even being tighter than yours.

“Right,” he clears his throat. “So I can’t— I-I don’t have to say it either,” he whispers. “I don’t need to say out loud that the feeling isn’t mutual,” you read in his mind, the silent admission effectively relieving you of the weight you’ve carried ever since you knew him.

Yoongi’s phone ringing is the only thing that snaps the both of you from your daze, your immediate composure being shaky despite having prepared for this for so long because you knew it anyway.

You know that no matter how much Yoongi looks like he belongs to you, your life, and everything in between, you still won’t stand a chance against the person who’d make him drop everything new for the promise of coming home to everything he’s familiar with.

“It’s uhm— it’s Haein,” he explains, the nervous grin he has on face being infectious despite your very own appearing for a much different reason. “She wants to talk about things.”

“You don’t have to let me know,” you shake your head, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Go, Yoongi.”

.

.

.

You’re not ignoring Yoongi anymore.

Apropos of nothing, Yoongi and Haein are talking again.

They’re not together, yet, but you know how it always ends between them anyway, so you steel yourself for the worst despite it being Yoongi’s best.

( ♡ ) 

You badly want to change.

You badly want to change and although it’s not Yoongi’s fault, the way he hovers around you makes you feel otherwise.

You already made well on your promise of not shutting him out whenever things get tough for you, but even then, no part of the way you’ve been acting recently ever appeases Yoongi.

He’s accustomed to you growing like you always have been, yet he didn’t even think that you changing bit by bit could ever impact him this greatly, Sure, Yoongi’s happy that you’re no longer ignoring him intentionally, but his stomach still turns every time you do reply to him at an ungodly hour and he’s reminded of your little joke (he hopes it is) that you’re more active at that time of night because of your extracurriculars.

Yoongi’s happy that you still turn to him, but a large part of him, if not the entirety, grows bitter when he sees you looking happier nowadays and he can’t tell if it’s because of something you’ve already told him or if it’s because of something totally unrelated and how he could never know, because the one thing that he made you promise is for you to keep being his friend.

You’re still Yoongi’s friend before, during, and after your confession, and he doesn’t know if that placates him.

Yoongi doesn’t want to amount to anything less than a friend to you but he doesn’t want to be your family either. He wants to be whatever it is in your life that knows why you’re smiling so much and why you barely rant to him.

He wants to be whatever, whoever, it is your life in order to know that you’re seeing Taehyung right from your mouth and not from your brother’s like he’s a jaded suitor that’s been anticipating bad news.

Yoongi wants to matter enough, as if he already doesn’t, to know about you having a boyfriend.

“You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?” he spits, the way he barrels into your apartment with his own keycard being unceremonious. 

Yoongi knows today’s your rest day and he knows that by this time, you’d be on a call with him to ask about his day and entertain Hwayoung who keeps butting into your conversation. By this time, it would’ve still been you and him, whether or not Haein and Taehyung were in the picture.

“You’re hooking up with the guy that talked shit about me, and you didn’t bother telling me?”

“Taehyung didn’t talk shit about you,” you scoff, closing the door after him as you follow him into your living room.

Yoongi’s eyes widen comically, heart clenching when he realizes that you have no comeback for anything else he’s said, jaw clenching as he points a finger at you.

“He fucking looked down on me-…”

“He was just shocked!” 

“Are you seriously defending him instead of being on my side?!” he exclaims, the sarcastic chuckle that leaves his lips rubbing you wrong because for any other person and any other instance, you’d laugh with him too.

“Do you not expect me to?” you snarl. “You’re dragging my boyfriend’s name to an argument that you started, and you don’t expect me to defend him?”

“You’re being a hypocrite,” he grits, nostrils flaring in sheer anger.

“And if I am, then what about it?!” you throw your hands into the air, poking your finger at his chest yet he refuses to get out of your face. “Have you not ever been a hypocrite when it comes to defending the person you love?”

It’s not your glare that gets him to back off.

It’s not your hostile, defensive nature towards Yoongi, in defense of Taehyung, that makes him deadly silent.

It’s you, holding up a mirror for the same blind defensiveness that he’d always carry whenever your words just barely graze Haein’s honor.

You’re guilty of judging Yoongi, but not of dissuading him from pursuing Haein like he’s always done — Yoongi, however, can’t say the same for himself.

“I hope Taehyung’s worth it,” he spits. “I hope he’s worth treating me like this, because not once have I ever made you less of a priority even when Haein was still in the picture.”

The use of was makes you pause, the past tense making you blink owlishly and finally take a step back from Yoongi as if it’s just your proximity to him that was the raging problem.

“Haein was my girlfriend but I never, never turned my back on you. I never made things awkward for us. I never stopped showing up for you, even if it costed me with her. I never made you feel the way you’re making me feel now,” Yoongi heaves, jaw clenching from how hard he’s ignoring the lump in his throat.

You chuckle sarcastically, the briefest glimpse you have of yourself in Yoongi’s words making you feel utterly pathetic. “Yeah? And how am I making you feel now?”

“Like we haven’t known each other our whole lives.”

( ♡ ) 

It’s been months since you and Yoongi properly talked to each other.

Life got in the way between the two of you and as much as Yoongi didn’t want to push, you didn’t want to grow out of the comfort that you already had with Taehyung either.

There were still texts and calls, but in between Yoongi getting whisked away for his employers’ vacation for a change and you being content with your job and your boyfriend as your comfort, neither of you made any drastic moves after your fight.

The only apology that Yoongi could get out of you after storming off from your apartment was you asking if he had already eaten dinner two nights after your fight, while the only apology that your close friend could ever give to you was that he hadn’t (even if he actually did), just to get your conversation rolling.

You feel guilty reserving parts of you from Yoongi, namely Taehyung and how he fits into your life, even if it’s always been established that there’s no use hiding. You know a terrible lot of information about how Yoongi and Haein are in bed against your will, and Yoongi has an awful amount of knowledge about your preference for condoms and how you like your men. 

There’s guilt in your chest and you don’t think it would ever disappear for as long as Yoongi’s still in your life. Being defensive about anyone outside of your family and Yoongi, specifically because neither are synonymous no matter how much Yoongi keeps recurring from your family’s mouths, is something entirely brand new.

Taehyung is new to your system, just as Yoongi was all those years ago, and it scares him more than it scares you.

The concept of lagging behind someone who had just been a casual topic of interest (more specifically because he had seemingly offended you and him) then became your boyfriend overnight feels like a giant slap on the face because Yoongi, not once, has ever entertained the possibility that you’d be as lovesick as him.

He didn’t think that you were also capable of being defensive about a loved one who isn’t him, just like he is over Haein. 

He didn’t think about how angry and offended he’d feel seeing you become so protective of someone who doesn’t know you like he does, because in Yoongi’s defense, Taehyung doesn’t know shit about you.

Taehyung does not and will never know you like he does, because he never trailed after you and idolized you in everything that you do, so much so that he only pursued his degree because you did before him.

Unlike Yoongi, Taehyung never had to be taught by you how to drive and what it means to have his family’s manual transmission car stall right after the stoplight turned green, because it meant you having to comfort Yoongi who was in tears after being honked at, and you lying straight through your teeth to his parents by saying that he was excellent and should definitely be trusted with driving the car alone with Haein to take her on dates.

Unlike the person you know the most, Taehyung never had to have the conversation with your dad about looking after you in college despite being younger, yet puffing his chest out nonetheless to agree because he made it his personal mission.

Taehyung will never be Yoongi and the latter takes pride in it, except now, he feels that Taehyung doesn’t ever want to be in his position—

Why would Taehyung vie for his position when it’s clear that he’s at an advantage?

Yoongi ignores his feelings and grievances the best that he can, yet unlike the old him who could endure so much shit because it meant having you to lean on, he can’t help but explode now that it’s you whom he can’t see eye to eye with.

“Taehyung and I were thinking of eloping,” you say out of the blue, your admission feeling appropriate (in your eyes, atleast) because you and Yoongi have so much to catch up on after being apart and he strayed the topic towards your sister who’s expecting her first child.

You thought it was your turn to say something equally as life-changing, because with the way Yoongi hasn’t talked about Haein once and you assuming that it’s because they were back together and he was just shy to talk about it, you bit the bullet first.

You thought wrong, clearly, because the happiness completely drains away from Yoongi the moment you finished your sentence.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, don’t be stupid,” he repeats, eyes narrowing at you in anger. “You’ve only been in a relationship with him for months-…”

“I’ve known him for years-…”

“And that still doesn’t justify you marrying him just because you feel like it,” he spits, your revelation far from making him happy like you thought it would. “Stop being stupid, Y/N. You’re not marrying Taehyung just because you’re in another one of your impulsive moods.”

Your mouth falls open at that, scoffing in disbelief because Yoongi isn’t letting up in the slightest with the way there’s no hint of his outburst just being a sick joke.

“I’m not being impulsive. I really do want to marry him!”

“Oh yeah? How’s married life going to work out for you when-…”

“I only told you because I wanted to let you know. I wasn’t asking you to weigh in, Yoongi,” you snap, crossing your arms in defense while Yoongi only steps towards you.

The thought of eloping with Taehyung crossed your mind once after a weird dream, and you thought nothing about it at first so you texted him and went right back to sleep. What you didn’t expect was that he didn’t hate the idea at all (in fact, he was even happy that you thought about it), and Taehyung’s confirmation for something unlike you, for something that resembled to settling and being comfortable, changed you completely.

“You don’t expect me to interfere when you tell me you’re going to make the biggest mistake of your life?” Yoongi huffs, his eyes widening over your seeming indifference. 

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that getting married to Taehyung would be the biggest mistake I’ll ever make?”

“I’m your closest friend! I know you better than you know yourself and-…”

“You don’t,” you retort. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all or even respect me when you think the worst of Taehyung when you barely even know him!”

“I could know Taehyung for a decade and still think the fucking worst of him!” Yoongi raises his voice, laughing humorlessly as he runs his hand through his hair. “I could know Taehyung or any other guy for a lifetime and still think that they won’t ever be good enough for you!”

The laugh that escapes you is offensive.

It’s as offensive as Yoongi making your graduation about him by crying to your sheets because Haein broke up with him, and it’s as offensive as you scoffing to his face when he said that having his job serves as his practice for a future with her.

“What, because you’re in love with me?” you spit, trying to trigger something in him just so he could leave you be, for good, because everything that’s he’s saying to now– with the defensiveness you’ve only heard from yourself whenever he rationalized trying to get back with his first love — takes you right back to your previous pining.

Yoongi’s only silent, trusting that you could read his mind, and you’ve never hated knowing him as much as you do than now.

“You’re telling me that you’re in love with me, right when I decided I was sick of loving you my whole life?” you whisper, the tears stinging from the corner of your eyes making your heart clench. You’ve been called too stubborn. Too calculating and too heartless, even by your own family, and for you to unfold in front of Yoongi this easily makes you wail. “Are you shitting me, Yoongi? Are you— are you out of your goddamn mind to tell me this?”

Yoongi looks down in shame, the truth of him being over his first love not relieving the weight on his shoulders like he foolishly expected, because everything he falls short when he sees you crying.

“I didn’t want to get back to Haein with something weighing so heavily on my chest,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to get back with her because you just ignoring me for a fucking week hurt more than any breakup I’ve had with her.” 

Yoongi, vividly, can remember how distraught he was. He can remember how he can’t recall a time wherein he didn’t have you to depend on, as if he didn’t ever outgrow the phase of him idolizing you and following you wherever you went.

As if he’s still the seventeen year old him asking to borrow your slippers for Haein, while deep down seeking your approval for her because he didn’t want to do anything without you beaming at him.

“I-I felt… I felt like I was losing my mind, Y/N.”

“Can you read my mind right now?” you ask, shakily exhaling as you look down on the floor.

“That’s a really stupid thing to bring up right now,” Yoongi breathlessly chuckles, letting his hair brush past his eyes because he’s a little terrified of looking how distraught, how disappointed, you are. “But no.”

“Do you not want to say it out loud?” he asks, making you laugh silently as you gathered the strength to sit next to him, yet not as close as you always did. “Whatever it is, it’s not like I’m going to give up now,” he mumbles, looking down on your hand that’s rested on the cushion, your pinky finger just centimeters away from his, yet he can’t move to hold you like he wants to.

You wanted Yoongi and he wants you, and there’s only so much points where you could intersect until you say what’s been lingering in your mind, just like every other apology the both of you have passed up.

“We need some time apart, Yoongi. We need space,” you mumble. “We need to figure it out on our own before we figure it out together because-…”

Yoongi finishes your thought for you, head tilted down and hand outstretched with the hope that comes with being a little too late for someone who’s waited a little too long.

“Because we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

Yoongi refuses to break even if he comprehends exactly what you’re saying, because there’s no point in it when he knows he’ll never be angry at you. You can defend him and you can hurt him all at once, yet he’ll never curse you, simply because there’s no point picking at wounds he’ll keep on licking anyway.

“Do we just-…” he shrugs lightly, pinky finger painfully close to yours until he makes the heavy move of lifting it, just enough to to cover yours. “Do we find our way back to each other? Is that it?”

“That’s the plan, hopefully,” you smile, sucking in a breath you never thought would be this heavy. “I’ll find you if you find me.”

“I’ll find you when you find me,” Yoongi corrects. “We’ll find our way back to each other.”

You resent comfort and Yoongi abhors change, but there’s only so much the both of you could take until you realize that the only thing constant in your lives is each other, no matter how many seasons pass you by.

For Yoongi, it’s you.

Despite everything, it’s still you.

( ♡ ) 

The year that you spend with Yoongi flitting every once in awhile like he’s only a friend, and not the man you’ve first loved, is a year you didn’t think you’d ever spend.

Despite you and Taehyung separating amicably, he still took with him the love that you sincerely invested. He wasn’t the first boyfriend you’ve ever had, and although you were no stranger to heartbreak, he still imprinted a large chunk of him onto you.

At one point in your life, you did want to marry him; and at several points in your life after him that you don’t even think of denying, you really thought it would be him if not for the life that you led.

You don’t resent Yoongi for loving you a little too late because there’s no point in it, as much as Taehyung doesn’t even hate you in the slightest for letting him let you go in pursuit of the change that the both of you badly needed.

Yoongi could never bring himself to hate you either, even if being apart from you gnawed at him from the inside. Making something out of himself had been his biggest plan outside of pursuing you from a distance, because as soon he tendered in his resignation letter to his employers and cried right in front of the children he looked after, Yoongi won’t ever lie and say that he wasn’t scared.

Yoongi resents change even if you’re someone who yearns for it, and even with the terror that wracks his bones of starting new without you being there for him as his safety net, Yoongi does it scared anyway.

He does it scared with one eye closed as he puts the degree he’s only learned to love because of you to work, developing an app for families to look for certified, trustworthy nannies.

He does it scared anyway with his heart barely into himself and fully into you when he shows up a full night early before your family’s thanksgiving party, donning his reserved suit as he clutches a new pair of house slippers, which again, like always and just like he is, is only for you.

For you, it’s Yoongi.