Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hyung, it’s dinner time,” Kim Namjoon says as he pushes open the bedroom door. As usual, he gets ignored. He sighs.

Most people claim that the famous producer Min Yoongi only cares about his music, placing everything else, especially his own well-being, dead last. Namjoon, who knows Yoongi better than anyone, sadly agrees.

Everyone also knows that Namjoon is the one who keeps Yoongi functioning like a human, so he tries again.

“Hyung?” he calls.

Silence. Thick, stubborn silence.

Namjoon doesn’t wait. He walks inside, unplugs Yoongi’s headphones from the computer, and makes him jump scared.

“Hey! What the—?!”

“I’ve been talking to you for ages,” Namjoon says, completely unfazed by the murderous glare he receives. “It’s dinner time.”

Yoongi drops his frown, blinking slowly. “Already? What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty. And I’m starving.” Namjoon looks around and sighs. “We need to order something. Your fridge is empty as hell. When was the last time you went grocery shopping?”

Yoongi stretches his back, trying to recall something he knows never happened. “I didn’t. You’re the last one who put food in there.”

“Hyung, that was before I went to L.A. You haven’t bought food since then?”

Yoongi waves him off, casual as ever. He eats at the company, comes home to sleep… or he used to, before his forced break. Now he’s stuck in this apartment, pretending it’s a vacation.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I always order something.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Ridiculous. You know how to cook. You don’t need to order every day.”

Yoongi chuckles, grabs Namjoon’s wrist, and drags him out of the room. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to take care of? Why are you here? You literally came back yesterday and you’re already up in my ass.”

“Well, excuse me for caring,” Namjoon grumbles, freeing his wrist.

“I know you care, and I’m happy you’re back. But stop lecturing me. I’m almost thirty. Give it up.”

“Exactly! You’re almost thirty and I still have to keep you from starving to death. Aren’t you too old for this?”

“I’ve been taking care of myself since I moved to Seoul. And as you can see, I’m alive.”

“That’s because we became roommates the second you arrived. I’ve been keeping you alive since day one. I leave for two weeks and you faint.”

Yoongi groans. He hates when Namjoon is right.

“People overreact—”

“You fainted, hyung. Because you overworked yourself. And you’re still doing it on leave.”

“It’s called a vacation,” Yoongi corrects him. “And it was just a small decompensation.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “Stop talking nonsense. Go shower. We’re eating fried chicken.”

If Yoongi tries to argue, Namjoon shuts him up with one finger. “Don’t whine. If you whine, I’ll handcuff you to the chair and feed you like a toddler.”

“You wouldn’t. I’m not a ki—” Yoongi freezes when he sees Namjoon’s expression. “Okay, fine. But we need beer.”

“Good. I’ll go get some. You shower fast and wait for the food.”

That goes smoother than Yoongi expects.

“Okay. Thanks, Joon-ah.”

“No problem. As long as you’re alive and fed, I can sleep peacefully. I care about you.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose. The sincerity hits him too directly.

“Save that cheesiness for your baby-faced boyfriend.”

“Jungkook is twenty-five!”

“Not with that face.”

Namjoon whines, but Yoongi already walks away.

~ 🌱 ~

One of the first things Yoongi bought when he moved into this fancy apartment was a massive black sofa. Big, soft, perfectly dramatic. Namjoon rolled his eyes at it but Yoongi loved it. Oversized furniture tasted like freedom. 

To him, it feels like a statement.

A good, solid one.

Whenever people judge him for being thirty and still “without a family,” or whenever they assume he must feel lonely without a wife and kids, he simply looks at the sofa and swears at them under his breath.

He doesn’t need a wife; he’s gay, thank you very much. He doesn’t need kids; he actually dislikes them. And he absolutely doesn’t need anyone breathing down his neck in his own home. He’s fine on his own. He’s not lonely the way they imagine, he’s free. And he’s happy.

He sits on his favorite corner, enjoying the emptiness around him, when the doorbell finally rings. He grabs money for the tip, and walks to the door. 

“Thanks—”

He freezes.

A tiny boy stands there. Alone. Staring up at him.

Yoongi looks down the hall. Nothing.

“Uh…Wrong doorbell, kid.”

“No, it’s the right one!” the boy chirps, pushing the door open and walking inside like he owns it.

Yoongi chokes. “Excuse me, little thing. Where do you think you’re going?”

Yoongi has zero experience with kids. He avoids them like the plague. The boy crosses his arms, rolling his eyes. The audacity.

“Would you tell me your name?” Yoongi tries with feigned politeness, crouching in front.

“No.”

“No?” Yoongi repeats, standing back up, offended. “You can’t just say no.”

“Yes, I can.”

Yoongi blinks at the hallway again. Still empty.

“Uncle, it’s cold. Close the door!”

Yoongi spins around. The kid is already deep inside his home.

“No way,” Yoongi mutters, rushing in.

What he finds almost gives him an aneurysm.

A four-year-old is standing and bouncing on his expensive sofa.

“First of all, I’m not your uncle. Second… what the hell are you doing up there?”

“Uh-oh, Uncle said a bad word!” the boy teases, still bouncing.

“Get off!”

“No!”

“No?” Yoongi gasps. “Where are your manners?”

“What are manners?”

“Something you don’t have!”

The kid shakes his head. “Uncle, you’re not very nice.”

“I just said I’m not your uncle!”

They bicker like natural enemies.

After several “No-uh!” battles, Yoongi gives up and sits at the far end of the sofa.

“At least take off your shoes.”

“N—”

“If you say no again, I’m calling the police.”

The boy sighs dramatically and obeys.

“See? You’re not even Korean, look at you with your shoes still on.” Yoongi mutters.

“I AM Korean!” The kid removes the shoes quickly. “See?”

“Took you long enough, huh? You still don’t look Korean to me.”

“I am!”

“Prove it. What’s your name?”

“I won’t tell you.”

Yoongi sighs. He almost got away with it. He tries again. “My name is Min Yoongi. See? I can say it because I am Korean. It's pretty clear you’re not.”

“My name is Kim Gunhoo! See? I am Korean.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Sounds fake.”

“It’s not!”

“How old are you?”

“I’m four. Daddy says I’m a big boy.”

“You’re big enough to give me a freaking headache, that’s for sure.”

Gunhoo gasps. “You said a bad word again!”

“It wasn’t even a bad word!”

The tiny creature points accusingly. “Santa won’t bring you presents!”

Yoongi groans. “I don’t need presents from that old man.”

“You look older.”

Yoongi gasps, open mouthed. The kid is shameless.

They fall into silence, as their eyes battle non-stop. Yoongi can feel the wrinkles forming permanently as he squints.

“Why are you mad anyway?” Yoongi finally asks. It’s visible how angry the little one is.

“I can tell you about it only if we’re friends,” Gunhoo declares.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Fine then. We’re friends.”

“Really?” Gunhoo asks suspiciously.

“Really.” Yoongi answers, looking at this watch. Why was Namjoon taking so long?

Gunhoo nods, satisfied.

“I’m angry.” The little one confesses.

“Yeah, I can see that. Is it my fault?”

Gunhoo frowns. “No.”

“Then what are you doing here? I don’t even know you, kid.”

Before Gunhoo can answer, the front door is closed.

“Hyung! Why was the door ope—”

Namjoon stops dead.

Yoongi is sitting with a child.

A real human child.

Namjoon’s soul leaves his body.

“Hyung… what is that?”

“Thank God you’re back.”

~ 🌱 ~

Turns out the kid’s father is named Kim Seokjin, and they live on the fifth floor, meaning it takes Namjoon a painful amount of time to get there because catching an elevator in this building is a whole task.

That’s how Yoongi ends up sitting at his dining table with a kid right in front of him, both of them working their way through the fried chicken that just arrived. Gunhoo has been gnawing on the same chicken wing for more than five minutes.

“Is it good?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah, it’s delicious.”

Yoongi hums and bites into his third wing. “I don’t know if kids are supposed to eat fried chicken at night. Are you sure your dad lets you have this for dinner?” Gunhoo nods, too busy chewing to speak. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

Gunhoo shakes his head. “Daddy said not to tell lies.”

“Well, as far as I know, you’re not very obedient.”

“I am obedient!” Gunhoo whines.

The front door clicks open, interrupting their conversation.

Yoongi looks up, expecting Namjoon, and promptly chokes on his drink when he sees a very attractive stranger walking in instead. Parted hair, turtleneck sweater, black jeans, long Thom Browne coat… Even his perfume makes the entire room smell expensive.

Yoongi just stares at him like an idiot.

“Kim Gunhoo!” the man shouts, snapping Yoongi out of his trance. He drops to his knees and grips the boy’s shoulders. “Gunhoo, how dare you do something like that?” His voice is sharp and loud, yet his eyes shimmer with tears that haven’t fallen yet.

He must have been terrified.

Gunhoo’s eyes go wide, immediately shrinking under his father’s presence. His little face crumples, and he bursts into tears. Seokjin pulls him into his chest without hesitation, covering his head with frantic kisses.

“Wait, there’s sauce on—” Yoongi tries to warn, for the most ridiculous reason imaginable. But Namjoon shakes his head, shushing him before he can finish.

Gunhoo’s father looks up at Yoongi with glossy, questioning eyes. Yoongi quickly averts his gaze, sinking deeper into his seat.

“I… I didn’t mean to ruin your moment,” he mumbles, mortified. “It’s just that Gunhoo has, you know, chicken sauce all over his face.”

Namjoon nearly facepalms.

What he meant to say is that the sauce is about to ruin the man’s expensive sweater. But clearly, Seokjin couldn’t care less.

Their eyes accidentally meet when Seokjin scowls at him, making Yoongi shift in his seat and look away first. A rare situation for him; usually people break eye contact with him.

“We should give you two some privacy,” Namjoon murmurs, approaching Yoongi, probably to save him from further humiliation.

But the man shakes his head, standing up without releasing Gunhoo’s shoulders. Yoongi notices the tension in his fingers, the panic still lingering in his hands.

“No, no. God, this is your apartment. We’re the ones who shouldn’t be here.” He glances at the table and shakes his head. “I’m really sorry for interrupting your dinner. Let me pay for it.”

“You don’t have to,” Yoongi says quickly. “It’s alright.”

“I insist. You two saved my life tonight. It’s the least I can do.” His hands tremble as he opens his wallet, so Yoongi doesn’t fight him on it. The man clearly isn’t in the state for a discussion. He leaves far more money than the chicken and drinks cost.

“Daddy… were you scared?” Gunhoo asks softly.

Seokjin nods and kneels again to meet his eye level. “Of course I was scared. Why did you do that, Gunhoo? We were going out for dinner. I can’t believe you ran off like that.” He gently wipes tears from his son’s cheeks.

“I didn’t want to go out for dinner.”

“You could’ve just said so. You’re a big boy now, you have to speak up.”

Oh, he can speak up just fine, Yoongi thinks drily.

“I wanted to tell you, but you didn’t let me, Daddy. You said we had to talk when we got back home.”

Seokjin sighs. “I’m sorry for not letting you talk earlier, but that doesn’t mean you can just… escape. Do you know how dangerous that is? I’ve told you not to talk to strangers because they can hurt you. What if something happened to you? You have to think about consequences, young man.”

His tone is stern, but his almond eyes soften every word.

“But he’s not a stranger, Daddy. He’s uncle puppy!”

Yoongi and Namjoon exchange confused looks, while Seokjin glances back at Yoongi as if recognizing something. Yoongi has no idea what’s happening.

“He’s seen you taking care of that little stray dog,” Seokjin explains, catching Yoongi off guard. “The small brown one with the curly hair.”

Holly.

Holly is the puppy that always greets Yoongi when he comes home. Their friendship started when Yoongi dropped his sandwich by accident and the puppy ran off with it, tail wiggling like crazy. Yoongi had just stood there, staring. He started buying snacks after that; the thief puppy was too adorable not to spoil.

He never thought anyone would notice.

“He licks my hand when I pet him,” Gunhoo adds. “It tickles!”

“Wait. Holly is a stray dog? But he has a collar,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin blinks. “He was abandoned when his owners moved out. The guard told me. You didn’t know?” Yoongi shakes his head. “The guards kind of take care of him now.”

“He’s my best friend!” Gunhoo says earnestly.

Despite the sadness blooming in his chest, Yoongi smiles at the kid’s sweetness.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Hyung… you’ve been taking care of a puppy? You barely take care of yourself.”

Yoongi tries to flip him off, but Gunhoo interrupts with perfect timing.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, but I didn’t want to go out for dinner with Jiwoo noona! I’m tired of going out with all those noonas. They’re sooo boring. Why do they have to be around all the time? I don’t like them!”

Yoongi almost chokes again. Seokjin looks even worse, his ears turning bright red.

There’s one glorious, terrible moment of silence.

“Uh… that’s not what you think,” Seokjin stammers, shooting an embarrassed look at Yoongi and Namjoon.

It’s okay. If I looked like that, I’d go on dates constantly too, Yoongi thinks—

Out loud.

Seokjin’s big eyes snap to him.

Namjoon’s soul physically leaves his body.

“Oh shit.”

“Uncle said a bad word!” Gunhoo announces proudly. “Daddy, uncle puppy says a lot of naughty words. Santa won’t bring him any presents.”

Yoongi’s face goes scarlet.

Namjoon pats his shoulder. “Excuse him. He has… no filter.”

The man doesn’t answer immediately. When Yoongi dares to look up, he sees a faint smile tugging at the corner of Seokjin’s lips.

Or maybe he’s hallucinating out of embarrassment.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Seokjin finally murmurs, extending his hand. He looks calmer now. “I’m Kim Seokjin.”

Yoongi panics, removes his glove awkwardly, and grabs his hand.

Why is he acting like a dumbass?

“I’m Min Yoongi.”

“He’s my friend,” Gunhoo declares, resuming his chicken wing with tear-stained cheeks.

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? Really?”

“Yeah… I mean, sort of,” Yoongi mutters.

Seokjin chuckles, still not letting go of Yoongi’s hand. “Good to know.”

Yoongi swallows and looks down at their hands. Seokjin’s hold is firm. Warm.

“Hyung, is the chicken too cold?” Namjoon asks, squeezing Yoongi’s waist to get his attention.

Yoongi jumps, and Seokjin instantly lets go.

“No, no, it’s fine. Take one from the bottom,” Yoongi grumbles. Namjoon does, squeezing Yoongi’s cheek in thanks. Yoongi swats his hand away.

“Seokjin, would you like to stay for dinner? You already paid,” Namjoon offers kindly.

Seokjin shakes his head, glancing at Gunhoo. “You’re very kind, but I don’t think we can. Someone’s waiting for us at home.”

Lucky girl, Yoongi thinks.

Out loud.

Again.

Seokjin stares at him—amused, curious, and entirely too attractive.

“I’m so sorry,” Yoongi mutters. “I really do have a filtering problem.”

“Daddy, is Jiwoo noona still at home?” Gunhoo asks.

“Yes. She came to see you. She brought you a gift.”

“She came to see you,” Gunhoo corrects. “She gave me a toy but didn’t even play with me. You already buy me enough toys, Daddy, I don’t need hers.” He sighs dramatically. “Do you love her more than me? Is that why we don’t go out on our own anymore?”

Seokjin gasps. “Gunhoo, what are you saying?” He looks distressed, trying to process. “Okay, we’re going home now. You’ll take a bath, and then we’ll talk.”

“Will Jiwoo noona talk to me too? Will she scold me?”

“No. Just you and me. We’ll say goodbye to her politely.”

Gunhoo looks relieved. “Okay. I promise I’ll be nice.”

Seokjin offers his hand. “Deal?”

“Deal, Daddy.” They shake hands. Gunhoo’s tiny fingers barely curling around three of Seokjin’s.

Finally, Seokjin turns back to Yoongi and Namjoon. Yoongi immediately looks away.

“I’ll talk to him properly,” Seokjin says softly. “Thank you both for everything.”

Namjoon grins. “It’s okay. Honestly, Gunhoo got my hyung out of his cave longer than anyone else could.” He squishes Yoongi’s cheek again.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” Seokjin whispers. Yoongi only nods, eyes glued to the table. “Gunhoo?”

Gunhoo hops off his seat and bows. “Thank you, Uncle Namjoon. Thank you, Uncle Puppy.”

Yoongi snorts.

“Look at you, maybe you do have manners after all,” Yoongi mutters, wiping the boy’s face with a napkin. “Come here. You can’t go outside like this.” Gunhoo giggles when Yoongi pinches his nose clean.

“Are you ready to go home?” Seokjin asks.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Namjoon pokes Yoongi’s rib. “Hyung, be nice and walk them to the door.”

Yoongi glares but obeys, reluctantly. It’s his apartment, after all.

Gunhoo starts putting on his velcro sneakers, insisting he’s a big boy. Seokjin steps back to give him space and accidentally bumps shoulders with Yoongi.

“Sorry,” Seokjin murmurs.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi says quickly.

After a brief silence, Yoongi says, “You have an interesting child.”

He ignores the warm pressure of Seokjin’s shoulder against his, barely.

“You think so?”

“Yes. He’s funny and witty… and also a little bold and shameless.”

Seokjin snorts. “That’s accurate. He’s actually very shy.” Yoongi gives him a look. Seokjin laughs. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

They fall into a quiet moment while Gunhoo battles his sneakers.

Then Seokjin asks, “Yoongi, can I ask you something personal?”

“Uh… sure.”

“You don’t like kids, do you?”

Yoongi’s head snaps toward him, offended. Was he that obvious?

“I tried to be nice,” Yoongi says. “But your kid is, uh, very expressive.”

Seokjin smiles and gives Yoongi his full attention, which only makes Yoongi more flustered.

“Was it that obvious I can’t deal with kids?”

Seokjin laughs. “No. I just asked because I wanted you to look at me. So I could say thank you to you.”

Yoongi forgets how to breathe for a moment.

If this man wasn’t straight, and dating with many women, and with a toddler at home, Yoongi would swear he was flirting.

“Daddy, I’m ready!”

Thank God.

Seokjin clears his throat. “Okay, let’s go home. Jiwoo is still waiting.”

Gunhoo grimaces but nods, he made a deal.

“Thank you again,” Seokjin says softly.

Yoongi hums, still unable to look up.

“Goodbye, Uncle Puppy,” Gunhoo chirps.

Yoongi smiles. “Goodbye, buddy.”

He watches them walk down the hall. Seokjin presses the elevator button, then turns and bows politely. Yoongi bows back and shuts the door, leaning against it as he nearly collapses.

“Hyung?” Namjoon asks when Yoongi appears back at the table. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Namjoon squints. “Why are you blushing?”

“I’m not.”

Namjoon smirks. “He was hot as hell, wasn’t he?”

“Namjoon-ah!”

“What? He was! The shoulders alone—”

“Stop.”

“You liked him.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“You’re being impossible. Yes, he was hot, but he’s a dad—”

“Single dad.”

“And straight.”

“You don’t know that.”

Yoongi sighs. “He has a woman in his apartment. His son literally said he dates lots of women.”

“Okay, so he’s straight,” Namjoon shrugs. “Doesn’t mean you weren’t drooling.”

“Drooling? Namjoon-ah, he wasn’t that hot. He was just…normal hot.” Namjoon laughs. “Maybe you liked him too much. Should I tell Jungkook he has competition?” Yoongi teases.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Do you think Jungkook would cry like that night you said you had a crush on Taehyung?”

Namjoon snorts. “Stop.” Yoongi laughs, chugging half his beer. “You’re a lucky bastard, you know?” Namjoon teases back. “Producing Taehyung’s album, his new single.” 

“Yeah… I think I might be a bit lucky,” Yoongi says, clinking their bottles and desperately trying to change the subject.

It doesn’t matter how hot Seokjin is. He’s straight, off-limits, and Yoongi just needs to swallow it and forget tonight ever happened.

Chapter Text

The first time Seokjin heard he was going to be a father, the world seemed to stop somewhere between a second and an hour. He had no idea how long he sat there, staring into nothingness. However, when reality finally settled back in place, everything around him remained unchanged, even though everything inside him felt so different.

They were sitting in a small café in the middle of Apgujeong. Seokjin’s nose was still red from the cold, his hands frozen around a warm mug as if he could absorb heat through it. The girl across from him reached out; perhaps she still remembered how much he hated the cold, or maybe he was trembling too visibly and she wanted to spare them an audience. Whatever the reason, she covered his hands with hers and waited patiently for him to process the news.

If Seokjin focused, really focused, trying not to look rude, he could make out the slightest curve beneath her oversized hoodie. A beginning. A possibility. Something undeniably real.

This is insane, he thought, dizzy with disbelief.

It took time for the truth to land fully, and when it finally did, the first words that spilled out of him, half instinct, half fear, were, “Let’s get married.”

It was the kind of thing a proper, responsible Seokjin would said, terrified of making the wrong choice, terrified of not doing the “right” thing.

But Anya, God, even her name tasted reckless in his mouth, was wild and untamed in every way he was not. She simply shook her head.

“No, Jin. That’s not what we should do.”

And maybe, just maybe, he loved her a little more after that refusal. For the way she refused to let duty crush who they were.

~ 🌱 ~

“You don’t have to get married if you don’t want to,” Taehyung says, taking a big bite of his vanilla cake while Seokjin quietly stirs his dark coffee, pointedly avoiding his gaze. “Mom can’t drag you down the aisle, you know?”

Sure she can, Seokjin wants to say, but instead he murmurs, “It’s not that simple.”

Taehyung raises a brow. “Do you even like that Jiwoo girl?”

“That’s not important,” Seokjin replies, his voice flat.

“Not important? Of course it’s important! I don’t even know her yet, and that alone tells me plenty.”

Seokjin finally looks up, tiredness softening the edges of his expression. “Jiwoo is great. And she gets along with Gunhoo, that’s all I care about.”

“Jesus,” Taehyung mutters.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Seokjin continues quietly. “You found the love of your life, and he loves you back. You got lucky. I didn’t.”

“Hyung—”

“And you don’t have a son to raise,” Seokjin adds, taking a sip of his coffee as Taehyung stares at him, unblinking. His brother doesn’t say a word, but the judgment in his eyes is deafening. “…It doesn’t matter what I feel. Only Gunhoo matters. I want the best for him.”

“And you think marrying someone you’re not in love with is something worth teaching? That sounds wrong, hyung.”

Taehyung still isn’t mature enough to grasp the weight of the choices Seokjin carries, so the entire conversation feels like a pointless loop. Seokjin reminds himself he’s only enduring this breakfast because Taehyung is flying to New York tonight, and he wants to send him off properly.

“You’ll have a child one day, and then you’ll understand,” Seokjin says as he finishes his coffee. He has reached his limit.

“I hate when you pull that card. I don’t even want kids yet.”

Seokjin scrunches his nose because that is, without question, a complete lie.

“I’ll play along. You don’t want kids, sure. But Jimin does. And you’re almost thirty, so you can’t keep using the ‘we’re too young’ excuse anymore, can you?”

Taehyung tries to keep a straight face, but eventually a fond smile breaks through. Seokjin smiles back.

“I just wish it was that easy for us,” Taehyung murmurs. Their smiles fade in an instant.

For a moment, Seokjin forgets who his brother actually is. He glances around and catches more than one person staring at them from across the café.

It is far too easy to forget Taehyung’s life in the spotlight, especially when —through Seokjin’s eyes— he still looks like his sweet baby brother, not the actor all of South Korea watches like obsessive hawks.

“You’ll be a dad someday,” Seokjin assures him, and Taehyung’s lips curve upward again. “And then you’ll understand the sacrifices we make. So enjoy your life for now. Expensive flights, romantic dinners, all that free time to waste. You won’t have much of it later.”

“You talk like Gunnie isn’t the best thing that ever happened to you,” Taehyung retorts. “If he wasn’t here, your life would be so boring.”

Seokjin lets out a choked laugh. He couldn’t agree more. “You’re right. And that’s why I will always put him first. Because he is the best thing I’ve ever had. Do you understand now?”

Taehyung furrows his brow so intensely that Seokjin can practically count the little wrinkles forming, but he doesn’t argue again. Deep down, beneath all the dramatics, he knows Seokjin is right.

~ 🌱 ~

Seokjin’s mother always says that Gunnie is the living embodiment of déjà vu. The way he speaks, eats, and observes the world with those big almond-shaped eyes makes her feel as though she has lived it all before. She calls him Seokjin’s twin.

Seokjin doubts her, she has always loved exaggerations. And no matter how firmly she denies it, Seokjin sees pieces of Anya in Gunhoo as well: her bravery when trying new things, the way she lit up over the smallest moments, her love for nature, her tenderness toward animals. Gunhoo carries all of it.

Seokjin loves animals too, but from a respectful distance. Fear keeps him several steps away, admiring them safely from afar. Gunhoo, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. The little boy befriends every creature within reach as if it were a natural gift. He even names the insects they find on the sidewalk.

Yet there are moments when Seokjin unmistakably recognizes himself in his son.

The way he becomes silly when surrounded by the right people. The way he pouts dramatically when things don’t go his way. And especially the hesitation he shows when meeting strangers. Seokjin was always the shy child of the family, and Gunhoo inherited that trait entirely.

While Taehyung flourished in social settings, Seokjin hid behind him and barely smiled at unfamiliar faces. While Taehyung walked into a room and instantly drew people in, Seokjin quietly allowed himself to be led, saying as little as he could.

Their mother always understood their differences, and Seokjin knows his own son carries the same delicate uniqueness.

Which is why this entire situation feels so strange.

Gunhoo is not the type of child who befriends others easily. If anything, he hesitates even to say hello. So watching him sprint across the park toward someone who is not a family member is so unexpected that Seokjin freezes mid-step, standing in the middle of the path with furrowed brows.

At first, he doesn’t even see where Gunhoo is going. But then a small dog comes into view… and then its owner, or rather, the incredibly sweet man caring for it, appears too. Yoongi seems to be training Holly, completely absorbed in what he’s doing, when Gunhoo rushes into their space without hesitation.

Yoongi is visibly startled, looking around in alarm, likely searching for the adult responsible for Gunhoo. His eyes find Seokjin almost immediately, and relief softens his expression as he realizes the boy isn’t wandering off alone again.

Seokjin and Yoongi exchange a glance, brief, distant, but strangely warm. Seokjin smiles automatically, polite and a little awkward, but Yoongi doesn’t return it. Instead, he looks down at Gunhoo, who is tugging at his sleeve insistently.

“Uncle Puppy, it’s cold! Why don’t you have a coat?” Gunhoo asks with utmost seriousness. “Do you wanna borrow mine?”

Yoongi chuckles. “Wouldn’t you be cold then?”

“No! I can run super fast, so I won’t be cold. Watch!”

Before either adult can react, Gunhoo bolts off like he’s competing in a marathon, Holly chasing after him enthusiastically.

“See? Now I wanna take my coat off too!”

“Kim Gunhoo, don’t you dare,” Seokjin calls out, swooping in to catch him mid-stride. Gunhoo squeals with laughter as Seokjin lifts him easily, blowing raspberries against his tummy. Holly barks in protest, circling them as if defending his tiny best friend.

“Sorry about that,” Yoongi says with a laugh, crouching to scoop Holly up. “I’m still training him.”

Seokjin sets Gunhoo down, their smiles lingering as Holly wiggles happily in Yoongi’s arms. He’s an undeniably adorable dog.

“Hi, cutie,” Seokjin murmurs, reaching out instinctively before pulling his hand back.

“You can pet him,” Yoongi assures softly. His voice is gentle enough to coax even Seokjin’s nerves. “He won’t bite you.”

“Uh-uh. Daddy’s scared of dogs,” Gunhoo reports cheerfully. “He won’t let me have one. Not even a tiny one.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. That is only half the truth, though the rest feels far too personal and exhausting to unpack in a park.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Yoongi says.

“But I like dogs,” Gunhoo continues, grabbing Yoongi’s hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Yoongi looks down, startled, but doesn’t pull away.

Seokjin is shocked too. Gunhoo never holds strangers’ hands.

“You like dogs too, right? Just like me.”

Yoongi shrugs lightly. “I’m not that into them.”

Gunhoo frowns, deeply offended. “But your name is Uncle Puppy. You have to like dogs.”

Yoongi snorts and ruffles Gunhoo’s hair. “Buddy, my name’s not Uncle Puppy. It’s Min Yoongi. And I don’t mind dogs overall… but I do love Holly very much.”

Gunhoo beams, instantly reassured. “Then you’re Uncle Puppy.”

Seokjin wants to laugh, but he also sees how much it means to Gunhoo, especially after learning Holly had been abandoned. In Gunhoo’s eyes, Yoongi is practically a hero.

“I don’t think he’s ever going to call you by your actual name. Sorry about that… I’m still training him,” Seokjin jokes, throwing Yoongi’s earlier words back at him.

This time, Yoongi smiles at him, small, shy, but undeniably warm. And Seokjin feels something flutter low in his stomach.

They end up sitting together on a bench, thanks to Gunhoo’s insistence. The park is unusually empty, likely because of the cold. Gunhoo was right, Yoongi really should be wearing a coat.

“Thanks for the offer, little man,” Yoongi says when a sharp gust of wind hits them. Gunhoo tightens his grip on Yoongi’s hand, like he’s trying to pass along warmth. “And just so you know, I have a coat. I just left it in the car.”

“That’s very silly.”

“Gunnie,” Seokjin groans, “that’s not nice.”

Yoongi waves it off. “He’s not wrong. I’ve been silly today. I should go get it before I freeze.”

“You can borrow Daddy’s scarf!” Gunhoo suggests.

Seokjin blinks in surprise.

Yoongi laughs. “No, it’s okay.”

“You don’t mind, right, Daddy? You always say we have to share.”

Seokjin nods slowly. He really doesn’t mind, not even a little. If anything, he’s grateful for a reason to offer Yoongi something. Maybe he would have done it himself if he weren’t so hopelessly awkward.

“See? Easy!”

Before Yoongi can protest again, Gunhoo is already tugging the scarf from around Seokjin’s neck. “Daddy likes sharing. He’s a good Daddy. Even if he won’t let me have a puppy.”

Seokjin groans dramatically while Yoongi snorts, thoroughly entertained.

Yoongi stays still as Gunhoo attempts to wrap the scarf around his neck, though it quickly becomes clear he can’t reach. He looks at Seokjin for help, but Yoongi shakes his head gently and adjusts it himself, the fabric swallowing half his face.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”

“Uncle Puppy…” Gunhoo says, watching him struggle adorably with the oversized scarf.

“Yeah?”

“Do I have manners now?”

Yoongi freezes mid-movement. “What?”

“Manners. Do I have them?” Gunhoo repeats with deadly seriousness.

Yoongi shoots Seokjin a panicked look. Seokjin only shrugs, fighting the smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh… yeah. I think you do.”

Gunhoo exhales dramatically, as though relieved of a monumental burden. “Good. Do you like me now, then?”

Yoongi blinks. Then blinks again. “…Sure.”

Gunhoo lights up instantly and throws himself into Yoongi’s arms. Yoongi catches him on instinct, startled but softening quickly.

Later, Yoongi will learn just how worried Gunhoo has been about “not having manners,” and how desperately he wanted Yoongi’s approval.

And watching the two of them together, a tiny boy wrapped around Yoongi like he belongs there, Seokjin feels that same flutter again, warm and dangerous.

~ 🌱 ~

The first time Seokjin accepted that he was attracted to a boy was back in high school, during a party he should not have attended in the first place.

There had been one particular boy. The boy. The one who made Seokjin tremble with a single touch, an accidental brush of fingers, the innocent kind that happens when two people sit too close on bleachers while watching basketball practice. Seokjin’s hand had burned for the rest of the afternoon. Later that night, lying in bed, he could do nothing but stare at the hand that had dared to touch him.

When his friends asked who he had a crush on, he immediately bit his tongue and swallowed the forbidden name. But he knew. He had always known, long before he understood anything else.

Funny enough, he had never actually dated a guy.

He had made out with plenty of them, university parties felt like the gates of heaven after years of repressing himself, but he had never gone beyond that. Never the soft domestication of dating. He had been full of straight-boy nonsense. He still was, though he hates admitting it.

What was he even afraid of? His family would understand him. His friends would too. Maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t, but the people who mattered most would stay.

Taehyung was gay. He has dated men, he is engaged to a man, and he has been loved wholly for it. So why did the words “I like men” feel so impossible for Seokjin to say?

He stopped wondering a long time ago. Four years, to be exact. Because the day Gunhoo was born, everything else ceased to matter. Love, romance, gender, desire, all of it faded to the background. He had something far more important to protect. He didn’t have the time nor the mental space for a passionate love story.

He had tried to marry Gunhoo’s mother. He wanted to “do things right,” for once. But she refused, and Seokjin, truthfully, did not push too hard. He loved her, he really did, but he knew she was never meant for him. And then she left, and all that love rotted into something bitter.

Now Seokjin is thirty, and his mother will not leave him alone. First, she insisted that he should marry because he was “getting too old.” Then she insisted he should marry because living alone “wasn’t natural.” Seokjin ignored her both times.

That is, until she unsheathed the ultimate weapon, the only argument that could ever make Seokjin hesitate.

He remembers the moment perfectly: the morning after Taehyung’s engagement party. They had been talking about how beautiful the ceremony was when his mother mentioned children.

Jimin jumped into the conversation immediately, full of hope, saying he wanted two children who would grow up together as best friends, the way he and his brother had, the way Seokjin and Taehyung had. His mother had praised the idea. And then she said, “Gunhoo would be really happy with a sibling. Knowing him, he would love to have one.”

Seokjin flinched. Why would she say that, knowing he was single and planned to remain that way?

And then she said, “He should have two parents, too. But I suppose we can’t talk about that, can we?”

His head snapped toward her, offended beyond words. Thank heaven Gunhoo was on the terrace with Taehyung, planting seeds for their grandmother.

“Eomeoni…” Jimin had said, appalled.

“I know, I know,” she replied, waving a hand. “I only worry about my grandson growing up alone.”

“He is not alone,” Seokjin argued, fighting to hold back his temper. “He has me.”

“You spend all your time working,” she countered calmly. “Tell me, who spends more time with him, you, me or the nanny?”

Seokjin stared at her, stunned. Why would she say such hurtful things? Why in front of the family? Why when Gunhoo was so close?

Later, he learned the reason. She had set him up on a date with a girl named Sunhee, pressure from both families weighing heavily. Seokjin refused immediately, took Gunhoo home, and did not speak to his mother for more than a month. He only relented because Gunhoo missed her, and because she missed him.

She apologized, to her credit. She knew she had gone too far. Taehyung had given her a serious lecture, apparently. But Seokjin still felt bruised. Even now, some small part of him aches at the memory, not because of the setup, not even because of the harsh words, but because of the seed she planted in him.

The doubts.

Was he good enough to be a single father?

Was he enough for Gunhoo?

Did he have the right to demand that Gunhoo settle for only him?

Anya existed somewhere, living her wild, beautiful life. The last time they heard from her, she was filming a documentary in South America. She had given Gunhoo her traits, her spark, her charm, but not her presence. Seokjin had begged her to call. That was the closest she ever came to motherhood.

So yes, even if she occasionally visited or called, she was not truly there, and Gunhoo deserved someone who was.

Someone besides Seokjin. Someone capable where he wasn’t. Someone who could love Gunhoo with a fullness Seokjin feared he could not provide alone.

And there was a part of him, a lonely, quiet part, that wanted Gunhoo to grow up with someone else, the way he had grown up with Taehyung. Life was kinder with brothers.

So maybe marriage was not such a terrible idea after all.

‘And you think marrying without being in love is something worth teaching?’

Damn Taehyung and his inconvenient wisdom.

Seokjin has not been able to stop replaying that sentence. Especially now, staring down at his phone, reading Jiwoo’s message.

“I miss you.” Seokjin reads silently.

“I miss you too.” He texts back.

A lie. A heavy, exhausting lie.

Jiwoo is wonderful, too wonderful for him. She deserves someone who loves her without guilt or hesitation.

“Are you okay?”

Seokjin opens his eyes, realizing he had closed them. Yoongi is watching him, eyes narrowed in concern.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“For spacing out?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I do that too. When my mind’s crowded. Or when I’m stressed. Namjoon nags me constantly.”

“You stressed often?”

“You have no idea…” Yoongi begins, then stops himself, lips quirking. “What about you? You stressed often?”

Gunhoo’s loud shriek startles both men, but he is simply playing with Holly. Seokjin exhales.

“…You have no idea,” he repeats.

Yoongi smiles, a tiny, fleeting curve, but Seokjin feels it like a warm breath against his neck. He stares without meaning to, long after the smile is gone.

“I have a son,” Seokjin murmurs, “so I have an excuse to be stressed. What’s your excuse?”

“Oh, is this a competition now?”

“Apparently.”

“Well, worrying is the only thing I’m good at.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You seem good at being a dad,” Yoongi adds softly.

Seokjin hums, suspicious but playing along. “Funny for you to say that. Aren’t you forgetting how you met my son? He literally escaped when I wasn’t looking. What good dad lets his kid do that?”

“Oh, come on,” Yoongi scoffs. “I did worse. Escaping for a few minutes is nothing. My parents were good, still are, and my brother turned out so perfect he could run for president.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi glances at him. Seokjin forces himself to look away so he won’t be caught staring at his mouth again. “And I know you’re good because Gunhoo is good. Kids misbehave. It doesn’t make them bad. Just normal.” Yoongi chuckles. “Besides, he lectured me about lying and naughty words. More than my mother ever has.”

Seokjin laughs, warmth spreading through him. He did not realize how badly he needed someone to tell him he was doing well.

“How did things go that night?” Yoongi asks quietly. “With… what’s-her-name?”

“Jiwoo?”

“Yeah. Her.”

“She was worried. But she understood when I asked her to leave. Didn’t take it personally.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. She’s great.”

Too great.

Silence settles between them. Surprisingly, it is not uncomfortable. Yoongi just sits beside him, bag placed neatly between their legs, watching Gunhoo and Holly run in circles. He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them, then crosses them again.

Seokjin watches him far longer than he should.

“Uncle Puppy?”

Both adults turn toward Gunhoo.

“Yes?” Yoongi responds.

“Holly is hungry.”

“Is he?”

Gunhoo nods solemnly. “He told me.”

Seokjin narrows his eyes. Gunhoo is plotting something, he just hasn’t figured out what.

“Did he? Really?” Seokjin asks.

“Yes, Daddy. His tummy hurts. He wants a cookie.”

Yoongi and Seokjin exchange a look. The same look. The look of two adults acknowledging they’re being played by a tiny mastermind.

“You sure?” Yoongi asks, reaching for his bag.

“He told me!”

Yoongi pulls out a pack of dog biscuits. He is about to hand Gunhoo the entire pack when Seokjin stops him, covering Yoongi’s hand with his own.

The air shifts.

Yoongi looks down at their joined hands… then up at Seokjin.

“Give him a number.”

“What?”

“A number. Otherwise he’ll feed Holly the whole pack.”

“Oh.” Yoongi nods slowly. “Right.”

When Seokjin withdraws his hand, a strange tingling remains, running down his wrist. He shoves his hand into his pocket, pretending it means nothing.

“They’re tiny,” Yoongi says, clearing his throat. “So… you can give him three.”

“Only that little? Not fair.”

“He already had some,” Yoongi explains, handing over the pack. “I trust you. Just three.”

Gunhoo pouts dramatically. Yoongi sighs, and Seokjin sees the exact moment Yoongi’s resolve begins to crumble.

“Be strong,” Seokjin whispers. “He’ll win otherwise.”

Yoongi gives him a crooked smile, a soft, lopsided thing that makes Seokjin’s stomach twist, then stands.

“Stop pouting,” Yoongi tells Gunhoo. “You look ugly when you do.”

Gunhoo gasps. “Halmeoni says I’m pretty. Just like Daddy.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Your daddy’s prettier than you. Probably because he doesn’t pout that much. Come here, I’ll show you a trick.”

Gunhoo beams and follows him instantly.

Seokjin remains seated on the bench, staring. Warmth rises from his chest to his neck, to his ears. He feels overheated.

Just like the other night.

And as if sensing the shift, Yoongi turns around briefly, eyes finding Seokjin’s without hesitation.

Strangely… beautifully… Neither of them looks away.

~ 🌱 ~

What Namjoon admires most about Yoongi is his uncanny ability to turn thoughts into melodies into lyrics, into entire worlds stitched together through sound. Yoongi has always been quiet. Painfully quiet. Back when they lived together, Namjoon often felt as if his own voice bounced around the apartment unchecked, echoing through rooms where Yoongi drifted silently like smoke present, yet impossible to hold onto.

Yoongi never spoke unless necessary, never argued, never expressed anything that required real communication. He floated, always caught inside his own head, existing in a space only he understood.

Maybe it was because Namjoon never disturbed him that Yoongi eventually allowed him into the small circle of people he wanted to keep around.

So, under normal circumstances, Namjoon wouldn’t question Yoongi’s strange behavior. He wouldn’t mind seeing him stare at a Burberry scarf as if it were a suspicious creature that might sprout legs and scurry away the second he blinked.

But Jungkook notices, which means Namjoon has to notice too.

“He’s acting weird,” Jungkook whispers, appearing beside Namjoon in the kitchen. “And not like Yoongi-weird. Like… weird weird.”

“I know,” Namjoon murmurs. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

From the living room, Yoongi tears his gaze away from the scarf and tilts his head like a disgruntled cat. “I can hear both of you. You know that, right?”

“Then enlighten us,” Namjoon calls back.

“Yeah, why are you being weird?” Jungkook echoes.

Yoongi shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t like the scarf?” Namjoon asks, approaching with caution. He picks it up, inspecting it like an artifact. “Looks fine to me.”

Jungkook plops down beside Yoongi. “Yeah. Not your usual vibe, but it’s giving elegant… and like… weirdly daddy, I guess.”

“Yeah, it’s giving—” Namjoon stops mid-sentence. The scent hits him. That scent. The sweet, addictive fragrance that had flooded the apartment days earlier. “…This isn’t yours.” It leaves his mouth sounding like half a question and half a suspicion.

“Shut up,” Yoongi mutters.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, already lost.

“This is… wait,” Namjoon sniffs again. “It can’t be. He wasn’t wearing this the other day.”

Yoongi shoots to his feet and snatches the scarf out of Namjoon’s hands. “I said shut up.”

“But it smells—” Namjoon squints. His brain knows exactly what it smells like, but he can’t comprehend why Yoongi would have a scarf that smells exactly like him. “Hyung. Explain this before my brain melts.”

“Explain what? Why am I confused?” Jungkook whines.

“Don’t make it a thing,” Yoongi mutters. He folds the scarf with unnecessary precision. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Wait.” Namjoon’s voice sharpens. “I’m right, aren’t I? It belongs to him?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but that guilty, cornered expression gives Namjoon everything he needs.

“How the hell did you get that?”

“I didn’t steal it.”

“I never said you stole it.”

“He lent it to me.”

Namjoon looks even more perplexed, stealing it would’ve made more sense to him. “Why?”

“We ran into each other at the park. It was cold. He lent it to me. End of story.”

Jungkook stands abruptly. “Hello? Explanation? Did hyung get a boyfriend? Finally?”

Namjoon bursts into laughter and throws an arm around Jungkook’s waist. “God, I wish. But no. Do you remember the little kid who came here the other day?”

“The puppy-uncle kid?” Jungkook brightens. Yoongi groans so violently he might pass out. “Of course I remember. I wish I’d been here.”

“Right. So remember how I said his dad was hot?” Jungkook nods. “That scarf belongs to him.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t steal it,” Yoongi repeats when Jungkook gives him a strange look. “I’ll give it back.”

“Why haven’t you given it back yet?”

Yoongi swallows.

He would love to blame anxiety, and yes, he has plenty of it. But that’s not the reason. Not this time.

He’s avoiding Seokjin because being near him feels too much like stepping toward the edge of something dangerous and beautiful at the same time. Because looking into those soft brown eyes again might pull something reckless from his chest, something like, “Your lips look stupidly kissable, please come over here and fix my life for a minute.”

Because the truth is embarrassing: Yoongi hasn’t gotten laid in ages, and he is wildly, stupidly attracted to a man he can’t have.

He bites down on his tongue, refusing to confess any of this. It sounds messy enough in his head.

“I just haven’t seen him,” he mutters.

“When was this?” Jungkook presses.

Yoongi sighs, drops the scarf onto the armchair, and walks to the kitchen for a bottle of water he definitely doesn’t need. “Yesterday. Can we talk about something else?”

Namjoon and Jungkook share a look but eventually nod.

It wouldn’t be strange for Yoongi to keep something borrowed, if Yoongi weren’t the kind of person who rarely accepts anything from anyone. He is usually the one offering help, not receiving it. So seeing him holding onto something that isn’t his? Very, very unusual.

Still, they let it go. For Yoongi, they can give him that much.

“Did you hear the news?” Jungkook asks quietly. Namjoon elbows him, hard.

“What news?” Yoongi asks, eyes narrowing.

“Uhm…” Jungkook glances between the two men.

“Don’t look at him,” Yoongi warns. “Just tell me.”

“You don’t need this stuff on your mind,” Namjoon insists.

“What stuff?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then say it.”

Their expressions shift. Whatever it is, it’s about work, about the company, and Yoongi can read every silent detail in the room.

“Babe…” Jungkook starts, hesitant. “He deserves to know.”

“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighs. “We talked about this.”

Yoongi crosses his arms. “I’ll find out either way. So, do me a favor and tell me yourself.”

“I am doing you a favor,” Namjoon argues. “That’s why I’m not telling you.”

Yoongi simply stares, expression flat and merciless.

“Hoseok hyung signed the contract,” Jungkook blurts out. Namjoon winces. Jungkook is still not immune to Yoongi’s intense stare.

“What did you say?” Yoongi’s voice comes out low and jagged. “Say it again.”

“H-he signed the contract. He’s doing the TenK album.”

“You’re kidding.”

Jungkook shakes his head, biting his lip, eyes wide and apologetic.

“TenK is my project,” Yoongi growls. “I worked with them. They said they wanted me.” He drags the words out like a threat. “So this better be a joke.”

“Hyung, calm down—”

“Calm down?” Yoongi snaps at Namjoon. “You’re seriously telling me to calm down? Do you have any idea how much I wanted this? How hard I worked?”

Namjoon steps closer, but Yoongi steps back, fury radiating off him.

“I do know.”

“Then don’t tell me to calm down when they pushed me aside and ripped my project out of my hands!”

“Hyung—”

“Don’t. Dismiss this. Namjoon.”

“I’m not dismissing it!” Namjoon’s voice cracks with rare volume. “I fought for you, okay? I begged them to wait! But I refuse to let you destroy your health over a single project!”

Yoongi freezes. Namjoon never raises his voice like that. “You’re on leave. They had deadlines. Timing wasn’t on your side, and I will not let you come back too soon and lose every other future project because of it!”

“You’re overreacting again! You always overreact!”

Namjoon snorts. “You only think that because you refuse to take care of yourself. So you hate it when someone else does.”

Silence hits the room like a storm.

Yoongi presses his palms into his temples. Anger, humiliation, grief, they all simmer together in his chest.

The worst part? There is no one to blame.

He knows the company couldn’t pause everything for him. He knows the machine keeps moving. He knows projects were going to shift while he was on medical leave. But knowing doesn’t soften the hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispers. “I really am.”

Yoongi nods without looking at either of them. His throat burns. “Please leave me alone.”

“Hyung—” Jungkook tries again.

“I’ll call tomorrow. Just… leave me alone now.”

They listen. They always do, when he speaks like that.

TenK was special. They were the reason Yoongi ever believed music could save someone. He didn’t want their fame; he didn’t want their spotlight or their legacy. He only wanted to create something that could touch a stranger’s heart the way TenK once touched his.

When they retired ten years ago, Yoongi cried at a bus stop in Seoul, twenty years old, shoulders shaking in the cold, grieving a dream he never admitted aloud. Working with them had always been the impossible fantasy he kept to himself.

Then two months ago, impossibility became real.

Their producer contacted him. They wanted him. For their anniversary album. The meeting felt like stepping into a moment he’d been waiting for his entire life.

And then Yoongi’s health collapsed, and the dream slipped through his fingers.

He isn’t angry at Hoseok. Not truly. Hoseok is talented, kind, brilliant, and he deserves it. A small part of Yoongi feels relieved someone like him is taking over.

But the rest of him?

The rest of him feels broken.

He can’t congratulate Hoseok yet. Not when the wound is still open.

Not when the dream he built his entire life around was finally in his hands… only to slip away again.

~ 🌱 ~

“Yoongi? Is that you?”

Yoongi lifts his gaze from the ground, disoriented for a few seconds before realizing it is Seokjin speaking to him. He blinks slowly, as if returning from somewhere far away.

When did he even walk out of his apartment? He glances down at Holly, curled tightly against his lap, small paws looped around him like a hug. Yoongi strokes his fur absently.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice thin, almost cracking. He knows he has been crying; he can feel it in the tight tug of his throat. He hopes the dim light of the patio hides the worst of it.

“Why are you out here? It’s freezing.”

Yoongi forces himself to look up again, studying Seokjin’s face. And then a question brushes his mind. Why is Seokjin outside at this hour too? Before he manages to ask, a girl steps into the light, her arm threading through Seokjin’s.

Seokjin stares at her in mild surprise, as if he had forgotten she was with him. Then he turns back to Yoongi, concern etched plainly across his features. “Are you okay?”

No.

No, he isn’t.

But if he tries to speak, he knows his voice will betray him, so he only nods, eyes darting away.

He hears whispered words exchanged behind him, soft, quick, impossible to decipher, and just when he expects them to walk away and leave him alone, something warm wraps around his neck. He freezes.

Seokjin’s scarf.

He looks up to find Seokjin fixing it gently, adjusting it so it sits snug around Yoongi’s throat. “Do you like the cold that much? You’re never dressed appropriately.”

Yoongi only blinks, unable to form a response. When he looks to the side again, the girl is gone.

“Better,” Seokjin murmurs, brushing a bit of lint from the scarf. “But seriously, you need a proper coat.”

Yoongi nods, feeling strangely chastised, strangely cared for.

Then Seokjin crouches down, right in front of him, bringing their eyes level.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Seokjin’s voice is warm. Too warm. It is like something blooming quietly in winter, soft sunlight cutting through cold air. It draws Yoongi in before he can stop himself. And the scarf, God, the scent of it, wraps around him like an embrace he didn’t know he needed.

It’s stupid. Stupid how much he wants to lean into it.

“I’m fine.”

Seokjin exhales, gaze dropping to Holly. He pats the puppy tentatively, as if asking for permission. “I’m not proud of this,” he murmurs, “but I lie a lot. So I can recognize when someone else is lying to me.”

Yoongi swallows. “You can?”

Seokjin nods, still petting Holly, who leans into the touch immediately. “And I’ve got two options now,” he continues gently. “I can ignore your lie and go back to Jiwoo… or I can walk you upstairs and try to help.”

“Help me?”

“Yes,” Seokjin says softly. “You’ve helped me already. When I said you saved my life, I meant it. Let me repay even a little of that.”

Yoongi shakes his head. Pride, stubbornness, fear, it all tangles in his chest. He wants help, desperately. He just doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“Yoongi,” Seokjin murmurs, “look at me.”

And he does. Instantly.

One second of eye contact is all it takes for Seokjin to rise with a quiet sigh. “Alright. Let’s get you inside before you turn into ice.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. I have a stubborn son too, you know. You’re not as subtle as you think.”

Seokjin guides him inside. He doesn’t speak as they walk, only types something quickly in the elevator before pocketing his phone. Yoongi is grateful for the silence.

Inside the apartment, Holly trembles in his arms, overwhelmed by unfamiliarity. Yoongi holds him a little tighter.

Seokjin’s gaze wanders immediately to the scarf he lent Yoongi last time, still resting on the armchair. He picks it up with a faint smile. “At this rate, you’ll have a whole collection.”

“I was planning on giving it back.”

“You don’t have to,” Seokjin chuckles. “At least you’d wear one when it’s cold.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Yoongi asks.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Then I’m good.”

Seokjin sits on the couch and pats the empty space beside him. Yoongi hesitates before following, choosing to focus on Holly instead of turning on the TV. Silence settles again, gentle, not oppressive.

“Are you alone tonight?” Seokjin asks.

“Alone?”

“Yeah. Where’s Namjoon?”

“At his place, I guess.” Yoongi frowns. “Why?”

“I thought he lived here with you.”

Yoongi snorts softly. “Everyone assumes that. He’s got his own apartment.”

“I see.”

“We used to live together,” Yoongi adds. “But not anymore.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him riding around on his bike.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” Seokjin chuckles. “I don’t think he recognizes me, but I definitely recognize him.”

Silence falls once more. Yoongi feels guilty, Seokjin came all this way and Yoongi can barely speak, barely breathe.

“I like your place,” Seokjin murmurs. “It’s quiet.”

“How’s yours?”

Seokjin laughs, warm and fond. “The opposite. The TV never stops, toys everywhere… Gunhoo is chaos in tiny form. He sings, he screams, he throws things, but I love it. I wouldn’t change it.”

Yoongi smiles faintly. “Sounds fun.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes something quiet like this is necessary.”

He slips off his coat, revealing a white sweater that fits him unfairly well, black pants completing the monochromatic look. Yoongi feels his chest tighten.

“Look,” Seokjin says gently, “you don’t have to tell me what happened. But… talking about how you feel might help.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Seokjin answers, tucking one leg under himself, looking softer, more approachable than Yoongi has ever seen him. Less like a father, more like himself.

“I think I’m angry,” Yoongi murmurs.

“You think?”

“No,” Yoongi corrects himself, voice trembling. “I am. Angry. And sad. And frustrated. Life feels so unfair.”

Seokjin shifts closer, his hand landing on Yoongi’s back, rubbing slow, grounding circles. “You’re allowed to feel all of that.”

“It’s hard.”

“I know.”

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. Seokjin’s presence, his warmth, his softness, loosens something in him. He feels dangerously close to letting everything spill out.

“Is it something you can fix?” Seokjin asks gently.

“I don’t think so. Not yet. It’s complicated.”

“I understand,” Seokjin says quietly.

“Do you?”

He nods, looking suddenly older, tired. “But we’re not talking about me.”

“We could,” Yoongi offers.

Seokjin lets out a weak laugh. “It’s hard.”

“So… we’re both kinda fucked up.”

That pulls a real laugh out of Seokjin. Beautiful, bright. “Apparently.”

He doesn’t stop rubbing Yoongi’s back, and Yoongi feels himself slowly unclenching. Seokjin’s closeness wraps around him like a blanket, his breath brushing Yoongi’s cheek, his scent soft and steady.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. It’s fine to like being alone. Just don’t let yourself feel alone when I’m right here.

Tonight, Seokjin is right there too. And without saying it, he makes Yoongi feel safe.

It takes time, but eventually Seokjin stands. “Look at me and tell me you’re feeling better.”

Yoongi looks up. He almost smiles, almost, but it comes out as a faint grin. Seokjin nods, as if that was all the proof he needed.

At the door, Holly trots beside them. Seokjin turns suddenly.

“Would you… want to have dinner with us?”

“With, with you and Gunhoo?”

“And Namjoon, of course.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Wait,” Seokjin says quickly, “let me give you context.” He explains the welcoming dinner for his brother, his brother’s boyfriend, and Gunhoo’s enthusiastic insistence that Yoongi should come.

Yoongi laughs, surprising himself. He can picture Gunhoo’s determined little face.

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” Seokjin brightens. “So you’ll come?”

“I’d love to.”

“That’s really nice,” he beams. “I was afraid you’d be hesitant but—you’ll like them. I’m pretty sure.”

“Will they like me?”

Seokjin scoffs lightly. “Who cares? I like you. That’s plenty.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips so violently he nearly sways.

“Saturday night. My apartment. Can you make it?”

“Yeah. I can.”

“Good. Gunnie will be thrilled. He adores you. Says you should meet his other uncles.”

“Why would he adore me?”

“Because you’re good,” Seokjin says simply. “Kids and dogs can tell. And you passed both tests.”

“Or maybe they’re wrong.”

“Or,” Seokjin counters, smiling softly, “maybe you need to accept that you’re not as tough as you pretend. And that you’re… likable.”

Yoongi laughs. If only his coworkers could hear that.

“And before you argue,” Seokjin adds, “just remember kids and dogs aren’t influenced by human stupidity. Not yet. They see the truth. And I agree with them. So that makes three of us.”

Yoongi can feel himself blushing. He thanks every star in the sky that Seokjin leaves before he can ruin everything by blurting out something insane like “your lips look stupidly perfect, please just kiss me already.”

Maybe, if he learns to keep himself in check, maybe they really could become good friends.

Chapter Text

Min Yoongi isn’t shy.

Min Yoongi is shameless.

Namjoon knows it very well. He has lived with Yoongi for years. He goes through Yoongi’s odd hookup greetings, watches him start new failed friendships, joins meetings with legendary Korean musicians, and listens to Yoongi inviting himself to their houses like it’s nothing.

The list is long.

Namjoon knows his friend is shameless.

Or at least, that’s what he thinks.

Right now, he’s a little amazed, and a little scared, by Yoongi’s antics. Is he… being shy?

He looks at his friend from the corner of his eye, wondering if he should tease him or not.

“Yoon, you good?” he finally asks.

Yoongi doesn’t hear him.

“Yoon.”

“What?”

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” Namjoon insists one last time.

Yoongi sighs and finally looks at him. “Is it weird that I’m nervous?”

Namjoon frowns. “About what? Making friends?”

“Meeting a neighbor,” Yoongi corrects. “What if I screw it up? What if they think I’m weird? We live in the same place. It could get awkward.”

“Hyung, you are weird,” Namjoon says with a smile. “Very.”

“Oh wow. Thanks.”

“But you’ve never cared,” Namjoon adds.

It’s true. Yoongi never gives a single fuck about other people’s opinions.

“Besides, being weird is fine. I’m weird too.”

Yoongi huffs. “Are you gonna give me a ‘love yourself’ speech?”

Namjoon snorts. “I mean… I could, but I’ll save it this time.”

Yoongi hums in frustration and turns back to the closed wooden door.

Why is Seokjin taking so long?

Just as he hesitates between ringing the doorbell again or running home, the apartment door slides open. A man, a little more handsome than Yoongi remembers from a week ago, appears.

Yoongi’s eyes fall to Seokjin’s apron before he even listens to him. He looks good even in house clothes. That might be a talent.

“I’m glad you came, guys,” Seokjin says with the sweetest smile. “Gunhoo is very excited. He’s been waiting for you two. Come in.” He steps aside, giving them room to enter.

He’s so gentle that Yoongi almost melts on the spot.

“Sorry for taking so long to open. I was in the kitchen. Didn’t hear the doorbell.”

Namjoon smiles. “No worries.”

As soon as they step inside, loud noises from the living room reach the hallway. 

“Here,” Yoongi says, handing Seokjin a bottle of wine. Seokjin raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I also bought you these,” Yoongi adds, giving back the two scarfs Seokjin had lent to him. 

Seokjin smiles even sweeter as he takes the wine and the scarfs. “I’m glad you came properly dressed. I won’t have to worry that you’re freezing this time.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I learned my lesson, I got sick the following day.”

“Did you?”

“It wasn’t that bad. Joonie helped, fortunately.”

“Yeah, I had to, or you would have died there, sick and starved.”

Seokjin laughs. 

“The apartment looks just like Hyung’s.” Namjoon adds, changing topics not to make his friend uncomfortable.

“Yeah. I bet it doesn’t sound like Yoongi’s, though,” Seokjin jokes. “Sorry, I should’ve mentioned my place is a bit noisy.”

“Oh no, don’t apologize. We’re happy to be here. Right?” Namjoon nudges Yoongi, who only nods.

They take off their shoes and walk toward the living room. Two guys are playing video games on the sofa, the noise increasing as one of them shoots at a monster-looking thing.

“Taehyung, you shouldn’t be playing that in front of Gunhoo.”

Yoongi frowns as one guy turns around. “Gunnie isn’t even here, he’s getting dressed in the room,” the black-haired guy says, frowning when he recognizes Yoongi.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

“Taehyung?” Yoongi asks, equally surprised. “Wait… he’s your brother?” he asks Seokjin, but he barely nods before Taehyung jumps in to squeeze Yoongi in a hug.

Turns out they know each other already. Yoongi produced Taehyung’s debut song years ago. And recently, Taehyung worked on the soundtrack of his upcoming movie, and Yoongi produced most of it.

Seokjin is shocked. He never imagined they had met, nor that Yoongi was a producer.

“This is Namjoon,” Yoongi says.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around the company. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Namjoon says, shaking Taehyung’s hand, instantly finding something to talk about.

Yoongi is a little jealous of Namjoon’s social skills sometimes.

He just watches Namjoon guide the conversation with ease while he stands beside him, silently listening.

Taehyung thrives socially too. He introduces Jimin, his boyfriend, and includes him in the conversation like they all already know each other.

Yoongi didn't even know Taehyung was gay.

“Want something to drink?” Seokjin asks.

Yoongi shakes his head, but ends up asking for water after Seokjin’s insistence. Namjoon asks for a beer.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks. Namjoon almost chokes on his beer at how polite Yoongi sounds.

“Don’t worry, dinner’s almost ready. You two came just in time.”

Yoongi isn’t interested in cooking, but he’s interested in Seokjin. And the living room conversation isn’t fun for him. He’s not in the mood to talk about the company after what happened.

“I insist,” he says, following Seokjin to the kitchen.

Once inside, Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “You’re escaping from them, aren’t you?”

Yoongi blushes slightly.

“I get it,” Seokjin adds. “Talking about work sucks, right?”

“Kind of.”

Seokjin moves around the kitchen effortlessly. He checks the salmon, seasons a sauce, tastes the dressing. All in two minutes.

“Do you like cooking?” Yoongi asks, sitting in one of the stools.

“I do, I learned to like it. I wasn’t good at it before, but it’s just Gunnie and me now and I can’t let my son starve.” He chuckles. “What about you?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I guess I just… starve.”

Seokjin bursts into a loud laugh. Maybe he thinks it’s a joke. He has no idea Yoongi basically survives on coffee and whatever Namjoon orders. No wonder he’s been so unhealthy lately.

“I wish I could let myself starve,” Seokjin says while pulling the salmon out of the oven. It smells amazing. “Anyway, I’m good at forcing myself into liking things. I adjust easily.”

“It smells really good.”

“It tastes good too. Want a bite?”

Yoongi shakes his head, but Seokjin insists and Yoongi can’t say no. Seokjin carefully cuts a piece for him.

“Come here.”

Yoongi walks closer, obediently, and opens his mouth like a kid. He tastes the salmon under Seokjin’s piercing gaze.

Honestly, he can’t focus on the flavor. Seokjin’s eyes are too distracting.

“How is it?”

“It’s really good,” Yoongi says, pretending he cares about the salmon.

Seokjin smiles, clearly satisfied. “I’m glad.”

“I—”

“Uncle Puppy!”

Gunhoo rushes into the kitchen, crashing into Yoongi and pushing him into Seokjin. 

Seokjin grabs him by the arms so neither of them falls. 

Yoongi chuckles nervously and pulls away fast, as if Seokjin’s hands burned him.

“Gunnie, careful,” Seokjin says firmly, but his face twists when he sees his son’s pyjamas. “Oh, Gunnie… what are you even wearing?”

“This is my favorite,” the boy says proudly, spinning happily.

Yoongi chuckles. He’s wearing mismatched socks and pajamas with tiny scary clowns and blood on it. 

“We have guests. You shouldn’t be wearing that,” Seokjin scolds. “I’m scolding Taehyung for buying you this ugly thing.”

Gunhoo pouts. “Daddy, you can’t. I love it. It’s my favorite.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes.

“Do you like it?” Gunhoo asks his new friend, spinning again.

Seokjin raises a brow at Yoongi, also waiting for an answer. The latter feels the pressure. 

“I mean… it’s cute,” Yoongi answers with a shrug.

“I’ll get you one!”

Yoongi panics, “I didn’t say—”

“I’ll tell uncle Tae!”

“No! I didn’t mean I want one!” Yoongi yells as Gunhoo runs away from the kitchen.

Seokjin laughs, and Yoongi crosses his arms dramatically.

God, he is so whipped. He can’t even get mad at Seokjin’s teasing.

“We should get matching bloody clown pajamas and do a movie night.” Yoongi jokes back.

“Oh no, don’t drag me into that. You’re the one who said it was cute.” He laughs right in Yoongi’s face.

He’s so attractive.

“I would take the movie night, though.” Yoongi blushes. “But save the ugly clowns. I refuse to believe you find them cute.”

“Well, the thing is your son is cute. And that’s all your fault.”

Seokjin laughs softer. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“See?”

“You’ll have cute kids too. Look at your face.”

Yoongi goes scarlet.

“I’m way too gay to have kids,” he says casually, finishing his water. He is burning inside.

Seokjin chuckles, but this time it sounds forced. “Yeah… I wouldn’t say that stops anyone. Look at me.”

Yoongi frowns, confused, but he doesn’t get to ask further.

Jimin walks in holding Gunhoo in his arms. “Hyung, can I change Gunnie into normal clothes?”

Gunhoo shakes his head desperately.

Seokjin sighs. “That’s his favorite. We just have to live with it. It looks cute anyway. Doesn’t it Yoongi?”

“Definitely.”

Jimin snorts. Gunhoo celebrates and runs around again with his arms up in victory.

Yoongi smiles absently, still replaying Seokjin’s comment in his head.

Why did he say that?

~ 🌱~

Dinner is delicious.

Seokjin makes different options for everyone. There is salmon, beef, chicken, and lots of side dishes. He says he’s used to picky eaters.

They talk about Gunhoo. About kids. About work. Adult topics that bore Gunhoo terribly, and honestly, Yoongi too.

He sits across from Seokjin, which is good. Staring at him keeps him seated.

Yoongi discovers a few things about Seokjin during dinner. He seems to be more of a listener. Yoongi had suspected it, but tonight confirmed it. Also, he is an introvert. 

Their eyes meet more than once throughout the night. Whenever the topic drags, Seokjin looks at Yoongi like he can read his mind. They both know when they are bored.

“Hyung, I asked for you last week at the company. They said you’re on vacation,” Taehyung suddenly says to Yoongi.

“I am.”

“He is.”

Both Yoongi and Namjoon answer at the same time.

“I thought you were traveling.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Just wanted to rest. I stayed here.”

A lie. A big one.

He’s actually on leave. Sick. Burned out. His therapist already caught him trying to hide it but as soon as Yoongi fainted he crossed the line and was sent home.

“He’s coming back soon,” Namjoon adds. “I tried to convince him to travel but he refused.”

“Well, you couldn’t come with me. Why would I go alone?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You don’t need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Yoongi keeps his eyes on Namjoon. Lying feels easier that way, since his friend already knows the whole truth.

Yoongi misses the way Taehyung smirks at them. The way Jimin gives Seokjin a pointed look. The way Seokjin’s smile fades for a few seconds.

“I’m not traveling even if you flirt with me,” Namjoon jokes.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m not flirting with you.”

“You’re always flirting with me.” Namjoon jokes, ironically, just to tease Yoongi. He succeeds, but not everyone gets the joke.

“Flirting?” Gunhoo asks, still chewing his food. “Like Daddy and Uncle Puppy in the kitchen?”

Everyone turns at the exact same time.

“What?” Seokjin asks, instantly regretting it.

“Uncle Jimin said you were flirting with uncle Puppy in the kitchen. Is it a game?”

Seokjin and Jimin exchange panicked looks. 

Yoongi just blinks. Maybe he misheard.

“Do you know what flirting means?” Namjoon asks, fully entertained. He finds Gunhoo hilarious.

Gunhoo shakes his head. “Is it a grown-up word?”

“It is.”

“Flirting is when two people like each other,” Taehyung explains simply.

“Daddy does like uncle Puppy. Don’t you, Daddy?”

Seokjin blushes in front of everyone. “This is a misunderstanding,” he tells the group. Then to Gunhoo he says, “I do like him, but in another way.”

Yoongi stares at them, watching Seokjin struggle. He almost feel sorry, but he also finds Gunhoo hilarious.

“It’s like me and Tae,” Jimin adds, blushing. “We like each other in another way. That’s why we date.”

“That’s why we kiss,” Taehyung adds, winking. “And that’s why your daddy is dating Jiwoo noona.”

Gunhoo finally understands.

But the awkwardness stays for the rest of night.

Yoongi doesn't know what he did wrong, but feels guilty for the way Seokjin avoids looking at him for the rest of the night.

Maybe his fear was right and he did ruin it after all.

~ 🌱~

As soon as his neighbors leave the apartment, Seokjin raises his voice inside.

“I’m gonna kill you, Park Jimin!” he says, exasperated. “I can’t believe Gunhoo said that in front of everyone.” He throws himself dramatically onto the sofa while Jimin and Taehyung watch him from the terrace.

“That was wild,” Taehyung comments.

Seokjin lets out an exaggerated sob. “I told you not to say stuff in front of Gunhoo. He repeats everything at this age.”

“I’m sure no one took it seriously,” Taehyung assures him as he puts out his cigarette and walks back inside. He sits next to his overly dramatic brother. “Namjoon’s got a good sense of humor.”

“What about Yoongi?” Seokjin asks.

Taehyung hums thoughtfully. “He’s a bit serious, but I’m sure he didn’t take it the wrong way either. Gunnie is a toddler.”

“And they both looked pretty chill,” Jimin adds as he steps into the room.

“I was chill too,” Seokjin insists, grabbing a pillow. “Maybe they were just pretending like I was, and they’re gonna hate me forever.” His voice becomes muffled as he buries his face into the pillow.

The couple exchange a knowing look. Taehyung pats his brother’s back in a show of support, though a mischievous grin spreads across his face.

“… Were you actually flirting with Yoongi-hyung?” he teases.

“I was NOT!” Seokjin shouts defensively, launching the pillow at Taehyung. The couple burst into laughter.

“I’m really sorry, hyung,” Jimin apologizes between giggles. “It was just a joke. I didn’t think Gunnie would repeat it later.”

“Do you think Namjoon’s gonna believe I was flirting with his boyfriend? I really wasn’t.”

“But you do like his boyfriend,” Jimin points out casually.

Seokjin shakes his head, almost offended. “I would never get in the middle of anything like that.”

Jimin hums thoughtfully. “I believe you. But not getting in the middle doesn’t mean you don’t like him.”

“I’m just grateful for what he did,” Seokjin explains. “He found Gunhoo, took care of him, and he’s been really sweet to him ever since. And Gunhoo likes him.”

“And you like him too,” Jimin replies.

“No, I don’t. He has a boyfriend. I have a girlfriend. End of story.”

The way he says it, makes Taehyung squint almost immediately. He knows his brother very well to believe what he just said.

“Do you actually like Yoongi-hyung?” He asks, rhetorically.

“How many times—”

“I thought Jimin was exaggerating, but… you do like him. I can see it on your face. You can’t lie to me.”

Seokjin’s jaw drops, and this time he can’t find a defense.

“And what about it?” he finally mutters. “It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen. He’s dating, and I’m dating too.”

Taehyung’s expression softens into something sad. Seokjin feels a pang in his chest. There is a confirmation that nothing will ever happen between them.

“I can’t believe the first person you’ve liked in years is already taken,” Taehyung says gently. “I’m really sorry, hyung. I honestly thought it was just a rumor.”

“They practically live together,” Seokjin replies quietly. “I’m sure it’s not a rumor.”

Taehyung nods. “Yeah… I guess not. Life’s weird like that, huh?”

Seokjin hides his face under a pillow, overcome with embarrassment and frustration. “Can you two leave me alone? Please?”

Jimin pouts but nods, glancing at Taehyung. It seems like the right moment to go.

Taehyung gives his brother a long, tight hug before leaving the apartment with Jimin.

Finally alone, Seokjin lets out a long breath.

It is going to be a very long night.

~ 🌱~

Yoongi is unsure whether it is a coincidence, fate, or simply unfortunate timing, but he does not see Seokjin again for at least two weeks after that dinner.

It is not as if he has been counting the days, nor as if he has been going out more frequently on purpose.

Nope. Definitely not.

He decided it was finally time to adopt Holly, which naturally led him to visit the park almost every day to walk his new dog. And it is certainly not as though he has been actively searching for Seokjin there, although his gaze has wandered on its own, and it is a fact that he has not spotted him even once.

He tries not to overthink the situation, but inevitably, he does.

Maybe he hates me.

Maybe I acted weird and that’s why Jimin teased us.

Maybe it was obvious I’m totally whipped for him and everyone noticed. 

Maybe I made him uncomfortable that night and now he doesn’t want to see me ever again.

The possibilities are endless.

Yoongi gently pats Holly’s head as his mind thinks of Seokjin. It has been a long time since someone occupied his mind this persistently.

The worst part is that he’s been trying, truly trying, not to like Seokjin. He has dismissed the thoughts every time they come. He has ignored the fluttering sensation in his stomach whenever he sees someone resembling Seokjin, hoping for a second that it might be him.

He knows it is impossible anyway, yet there is something about Seokjin that weakens Yoongi completely.

And now, believing that he might have somehow ruined whatever good relationship they could have had fills Yoongi with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

He returns home carrying a heavy, familiar sense of defeat. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pauses at the traffic light before grabbing it to answer.

“Are you busy?” Namjoon asks, his tone bright through the phone.

“You know I’m not,” Yoongi sighs.

Namjoon wastes no time: he has an unexpected invitation for the evening. One of the company’s labels is celebrating an anniversary, and the boss specifically asked for Yoongi to join.

Yoongi doesn’t feel like going out, not really, but maybe doing something, anything, other than sitting alone with his thoughts could help. And it’s true he played a huge part in that label’s success; he should be there.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it’d be good for you,” Namjoon insists. “You’ve been on leave for a month.”

“And you and Jungkook will be hovering around the whole time,” Yoongi mutters. “Making sure I don’t escape to the studio right away.”

Namjoon laughs, loud and unashamed. “Exactly. So? Are you coming? Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone and finally stop pining over that hot neighbor of yours.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, though he can’t help considering the idea. He doesn’t bother denying it. Maybe Namjoon isn’t entirely wrong.

There is a chance that what he misses most is simple warmth, someone’s presence to lean into. Maybe that’s why Seokjin’s smile lingered in his mind long after it should have. Why a single glance from him has felt enough to unfreeze a part of Yoongi he thought was already numb.

“I’ll go,” he says finally.

“Yes!” Namjoon celebrates as if he’s just won a prize. “Alright, I’ll see you here. We’re having fun tonight whether you like it or not.”

Yoongi hangs up, staring at the dimming sky for a moment before crossing the street.

A different night might not fix anything… but perhaps it could soften something.

~ 🌱~

The company feels strangely familiar the moment he walks in. Faces turn as he passes through the hallways and steps into the elevator. People recognize him instantly. They don’t dare approach, but they bow, startled and respectful.

Yoongi isn’t intimidating by nature; he’s simply reserved, quiet, and notoriously unsocial. Approachable is not a word anyone would associate with him.

He finds Namjoon and Jungkook already at the bar with a couple of their friends. Jungkook spots him first and waves enthusiastically, his whole arm moving in exaggerated motions.

The music on the rooftop terrace sounds too loud, yet Yoongi still hears Jungkook shouting his name like an overexcited puppy. The kid is annoyingly charismatic, impossible to hate, no matter how hard Yoongi tries.

“Stop embarrassing me,” Yoongi mutters once he reaches them.

Jungkook only laughs, delighted with himself.

Yoongi immediately takes the glass of whiskey Namjoon had saved for him. It’s freshly poured, the burn warm enough to steady him before he has to face the sea of people around him. After a month away, the weight of being back presses down more heavily than he expected.

“I thought I heard wrong.”

The voice comes from behind, and when Yoongi turns, he finds Jung Hoseok grinning at him.

“What did you hear?” Yoongi asks, skipping the hello.

“That Satan himself had returned.”

Yoongi snorts while Hoseok bursts into laughter. “I’m really happy to see you again, hyung.” Hoseok pulls him into a hug, patting his back.

There are very few people Yoongi allows into his personal space, and Hoseok, without question, is one of them.

“How have you been?” Yoongi asks. He deliberately avoids mentioning the TenK project, and avoids anything remotely related to work. 

Hoseok shrugs lightly. He is a good friend, and a good person, so he doesn’t bring up the topic either. “Honestly? Bored. I might need a vacation too.”

“They help.”

“I bet they do. Did you travel? Namjoon-hyung said you were in Japan.”

Yoongi glances at Namjoon who is a few meters away. They exchange a loaded look.

“I went for a few days only,” Yoongi lies smoothly. “I’ve been home most of the time.”

“Really? Why didn’t you call me? We could’ve met up.”

Yoongi nods, avoiding Hoseok’s gaze. “We could have. I just thought you were busy.”

He knows he can’t lie convincingly while looking someone directly in the eyes.

While averting his gaze, his attention catches on another figure across the terrace. For a second, he thinks he’s imagining it. He's made this mistake before, confusing strangers for the man who has taken too much space in his thoughts lately.

But then Taehyung meets his gaze, smirks, and points directly at him. Seokjin turns at the gesture and sees him immediately.

A soft, involuntary heat blooms in Yoongi’s stomach, tightening his throat so much he struggles to swallow. Seokjin’s eyes, sharp, warm, and too attentive, hold him in place.

For better or worse, the Kim brothers don’t approach. They simply wave, and Yoongi forces himself to return the gesture, hoping he looks casual as he does.

Maybe he did mess up at that dinner.

The thought hits him with an uncomfortable pang.

“I know overthinking is one of your many talents,” Namjoon murmurs beside him once the brothers look away, “but how about you focus on Hoseok tonight and forget about Seokjin and his girlfriend for a few hours?”

“You scare me,” Yoongi mutters. “Can you actually read my mind?”

“I wish,” Namjoon answers. “My life would be so much easier.”

Only then Yoongi notices her, the same woman looping her arm through Seokjin’s again. He hadn’t seen her at first.

It’s hard to focus on anyone besides Seokjin. 

~ 🌱~

The night unfolds smoothly. Yoongi knows these company dynamics too well by now; he slips into the familiar rhythm of pretending, polite smiles and professionalism. Most people here can’t read him at all, except for Namjoon and Jungkook, who catch every signal he isn’t saying out loud.

For reasons Yoongi already suspects, Hoseok never goes too far. Even when he wanders off to talk to someone across the terrace, his eyes inevitably drift back to Yoongi.

And Yoongi knows exactly where this is going. They’ve been here before, many times. Hoseok is the only hookup he’s ever managed to remain friends with, and somehow it works.

Yoongi likes the simplicity of their arrangement. Hoseok never complicates things, never pushes, never asks for more than what they’re both willing to give. No jealousy, no expectations, no awkwardness. Just a shared understanding that begins and ends when they want it to.

It’s been at least two years of this careful game, and the only person who might have pieced it together is Namjoon. Not even Jungkook knows.

So Yoongi feels Hoseok’s gaze on him all night, warm, familiar, brimming with unspoken intent. He’s aware of it the same way he’s aware of the bass sounding through the rooftop or the cold glass in his hand.

Desire lingers between them, comfortable and predictable.

He finally turns toward Hoseok, ready to signal that it’s time to leave, but instead his eyes land on someone else. Another gaze. One he hadn’t realized was on him before.

Seokjin.

He stands with a glass of wine in hand, his posture relaxed, his eyes anything but… hungry. He watches Yoongi unashamedly, no hesitation, no subtlety.

Yoongi blinks, startled by the intensity. Seokjin is farther away than Hoseok, yet somehow his gaze feels infinitely closer.

Too close.

Maybe it’s the alcohol messing with him. Maybe he’s imagining it.

He looks again, needing confirmation, and yes, there is Seokjin, still watching him with that unreadable expression that makes Yoongi’s stomach twist painfully.

Should he apologize? Is that what Seokjin wants? Or is he misreading everything?

“Hey.”

The interruption snaps him back, and Yoongi forces himself, mind and body, to focus on Hoseok. On the man who actually wants him. On the one standing right here.

Why is he letting himself fall for someone he shouldn’t? Daydreaming about a man who is, for all intents and purposes, straight, and here tonight with his girlfriend.

He is not a teenager. He should know better.

There is someone who desires him openly, someone he desires too. That should be enough. That’s where his attention should go.

“Can I take you home?” Yoongi asks, voice firm, leaving no room for confusion.

Hoseok laughs, eyes gleaming. “Smooth as ever, huh?”

“Have I ever been?”

“I guess not,” Hoseok confesses with sparkling eyes. 

“Do you want to come with me, or not?”

“Alright… if you insist.”

Hoseok enjoys their little game, enjoys feeling wanted, and Yoongi doesn’t mind playing along. It’s become their unofficial ritual, this back-and-forth, this mutual pretending, this act of wanting.

“However, I can’t leave just yet. I have to film some content for social media.”

“Fuck that,” Yoongi mutters making him laugh.

“Go first and I’ll drive there in a few minutes. I can see you just want to leave, you resisted enough.”

“I hate events like these,” Yoongi comments, and it’s something Hoseok already knows.

“Go, I’ll follow right back.”

“Don’t leave me waiting.”

Hoseok chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare.”

~ 🌱~

Seokjin follows Yoongi’s path through the crowd, unable to pull his eyes away. It feels almost involuntary, as if something beyond him forced him to. 

He watches Yoongi set his whiskey glass on the bar counter, watches the determination in his eyes as he walks through the sea of bodies. Finally losing sight of him when he enters the elevator.

“He left,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Huh?” Jimin asks, catching the defeated look in Seokjin’s eyes. “You good?”

Seokjin nods, though inside everything screams the opposite. Of course he isn’t okay. He hasn’t been okay since they spotted Yoongi.

Not because he didn’t want to see him, no, the problem is that he did. Desperately. He’d wanted to cross the room from the very moment Yoongi appeared.

Now it’s too late. He is gone.

“She’s having fun,” Taehyung says suddenly. 

Seokjin blinks, confused for a moment, then remembers Jiwoo is here too, somewhere in the crowd. He already lost sight of her, too busy stealing glances at the wrong person.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know she used to be a model,” Taehyung adds.

Seokjin nods. “I didn’t either, not until I saw her getting along with the girls.”

Taehyung lets out a quiet laugh. “You didn’t know? Do you even know anything about her at all?”

Seokjin waves him away, but the words hit harder than he’d like.

The honest answer is no, he doesn’t know much about Jiwoo. He does ask. He listens. He tries. But once each date ends, the details fade faster than they should.

He feels guilty about it, so he compensates her the only ways he knows how: more dates when time allows, thoughtful gifts, small gestures. Jiwoo seems content, willing to give him a chance. 

He is good at acting. He is attentive to details, he is constantly texting her and asking about her day. He gives her what she wants, what she expects.

He has learned the manual by heart.

Suddenly her gaze finds him from across the terrace. She is undeniably beautiful and elegant.

But Seokjin feels nothing shift in his chest. No spark, no flutter. Not the warmth that bloomed minutes ago when someone else was looking at him. 

He worries.

He worries a lot.

Because for one terrifying second, he realizes the truth: whatever is happening with Yoongi is slipping out of his control. And even worse, it’s a one-sided feeling. 

Seokjin’s avoided him for two weeks, and yet the moment he saw him again every buried emotion came back with unavoidable intensity. Yearning. Curiosity. He just doesn’t understand.

Why can’t he feel any of that for Jiwoo?

Why does it only happen with Yoongi?

“I think it’s time to leave,” Seokjin mutters, catching both Taehyung and Jimin completely off guard.

“Why so early? Mom’s looking after Gunnie,” Taehyung says.

Seokjin knows. Tonight he has a lot of free time. Gunnie is with his beloved grandmother, probably fast asleep by now. That’s not the problem. The problem is that Seokjin doesn’t want to be here anymore. In fact, he feels like is suffocating.

“It’s past midnight, and I’m really tired,” he says. It’s not a total lie. “I finished a ton of paperwork today so I could take tomorrow off.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay? Is it because you don’t know many people here? I can introduce you to some really nice friends.”

Taehyung’s hopeful expression makes Seokjin feel guilty for declining.

He says goodbye to his brother and the well-dressed crowd clustered around them. Then he steps closer to Jiwoo, leaning in to whisper that he’s ready to leave.

But she clearly isn’t. Her eyes say it all, bright and excited. She’s been laughing and chatting with her friends all night, hardly noticing Seokjin… for what he isn’t mad about one bit.

Seokjin can’t ask her to leave when she doesn’t want to. He isn’t that kind of man.

Taehyung notices everything, the tension, Jiwoo’s faltering, Seokjin’s confusion. Without hesitation, he steps in to save him. He offers to take Jiwoo home himself, even if he doesn’t fully approve of the relationship. He knows Seokjin has chosen her, knows she is likely to become his sister-in-law soon enough. It’s time he makes an effort.

Seokjin hesitates, but he trusts Taehyung. And he doesn’t have the heart to insist Jiwoo to leave when he is the only one who isn’t enjoying the night.

The truth is, Seokjin has never been the type to enjoy parties. He only attends when there’s a meaning behind them, and tonight there was. It was Taehyung’s label hosting the event, and Taehyung had insisted he come.

But the lights, the noise, the bodies crowding the rooftop, even the overwhelming mix of smell, have drained him. He feels entirely out of place, so much he can’t bear another minute there.

The drive home is silent. The noise of the party left him exhausted.

On the way home, he stops by his mother’s house to pick up Gunhoo. Thank god she lives in the neighborhood.

She opens the door startled to see him, and immediately asks about Jiwoo before anything else.

“She’s fine. She really enjoyed the event. She used to be a model, did you know that?” he says.

His mother nods while guiding him toward the guest room where Gunhoo sleeps. “I did my research before I introduced her to you.”

“You investigated all of them? The list was long,” Seokjin says, an ironic smile tugging at his lips.

“I made sure none of them were anything like that woman.”

Her tone sharpens around the words, getting rid of Seokjin’s smile immediately. By that woman, she means Anya, Gunhoo’s biological mother.

Seokjin feels a punch in his stomach every time his mother mentions her.

He hates that she had been right about Anya all along.

Anya isn’t, and never was, the kind of woman to build a family with. Not after abandoning their son the way she did. He can’t force himself to think kindly of her, no matter how hard he tries.

He also hates giving his mother the satisfaction of being right. Hates the unspoken I told you so hanging in the air.

So he simply thanks her for looking after Gunhoo and leaves quickly, escaping into the quiet of the night before the conversation goes to dark and hurtful places.

He parks the car in his building and carefully lifts his sleeping son into his arms. Gunhoo is bigger now, heavier, and it’s harder to carry him without waking him up.

He heads toward the elevator from the parking lot, but stops dead when he spots a couple making out by the doors. Two guys.

He doesn’t find it strange to see men kissing, he refuses to be a hypocrite. But in a culture like theirs, it is unusual to find two people kissing so openly, so passionately, in public.

He swallows, unsure what to do, and finally decides to wait until they get into the elevator first. There’s no point in making the moment even more awkward.

He adjusts his hold on Gunhoo and turns around to give them privacy. Right there his fingers slip, and his car keys fall to the floor, echoing loudly across the parking lot.

The kissing stops instantly.

Mortified, Seokjin feels his face heating up.

“Here,” a firm voice says as someone picks up the keys for him.

Seokjin looks up, and meets the eyes he has been searching all night. Destiny, he thinks, must truly hate him.

Yoongi stares back, equally surprised, almost like Seokjin is some rare creature that only exists in his imagination. 

“Thanks,” Seokjin whispers so he doesn’t disturb Gunhoo.

“The elevator is here,” another voice says from behind.

Seokjin turns to thank Namjoon, except the man behind them is not… Namjoon.

His face falls.

He immediately looks back at Yoongi, accusingly.

What the hell is he doing?

Yoongi acts like nothing is happening. He smiles, gentle and warm, and offers Seokjin the elevator first. His voice is soft, almost sweet, as if this situation was the most ordinary.

Seokjin doesn’t know how to react. His body moves on its own, stepping forward like something else takes control of him.

“How’s Gunhoo?” Yoongi asks once the doors close.

The air is thick and awkward. 

Seokjin’s ears still ring from the loud music at the party, so his response is slow. It has absolutely nothing to do with the shock he feels. Nothing to do with being stuck inside this tiny elevator with Yoongi and his… lover. Or the fact he can’t bring himself to look at Yoongi after discovering he’s a cheater.

‘Am I a hypocrite?’ He asks himself. He knows he likes Yoongi too.

‘No, I’m not’ he quickly decides.

Liking someone doesn’t mean he’d ever sabotage a relationship. He’d never try to become someone’s secret lover.

Although…

‘Would I be Yoongi’s lover?’ He asks then.

‘Would I?’

“Seokjin,” Yoongi says, interrupting his dangerous thoughts. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s your floor.”

Seokjin glances at the number on the hallway. Fifth floor. Thank God. Thank Jesus. Thank any divine being listening right now.

“Have a good night,” he says, stepping out quickly.

Before the doors shut, Yoongi stops them with his hand. “Hey!”

Seokjin obligates his feet to stop, turning around to face him.

“Are you okay?”

Seokjin hates him for asking. For being kind. For being sweet. For being himself.

Seokjin nods, barely. “Just tired.”

Yoongi squints, like he wants to say something but swallows it at the last second. “Okay. Good night to you too.”

Seokjin forces a crooked smile and holds Yoongi’s gaze until the elevator finally closes. Only then he lets himself breathe again.

As soon as he enters the apartment he puts Gunhoo to bed and heads straight for the shower, hoping the water will wash away his thoughts. But the kiss he witnessed keeps replaying in his mind.

He doesn’t know what he hates more:

First, that Yoongi is a cheater,

Second, that his lover is hot,

Or third, that he’s disappointed the lover… isn’t him.

He huffs under the cold water, trying to scrub Yoongi out of his head.

It doesn’t work.

It’s so much worse.

That night, Seokjin dreams of kissing Yoongi for the first time. And finally, he answered his own question: It was the third. 

Chapter Text

Seokjin is good at keeping secrets. Really good, actually.

But that doesn’t mean he’s good at living with them.

Secrets sit heavy in his chest, like something warm and uncomfortable that won’t go away. They follow him around, slipping into his thoughts when he’s supposed to be paying attention, replaying themselves when he’s trying to focus on literally anything else. Keeping his mouth shut takes effort, and lately, that effort is starting to show. Jimin almost caught him this morning. Almost.

Letting go of a big secret is hard.

And Seokjin is holding onto one right now.

A big one.

“Daddy.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Daddy?”

His fingers tighten slightly around the steering wheel.

“Daddy, are you even listening to me?”

Seokjin blinks and finally looks up, meeting Gunhoo’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Right. No. He hadn’t been.

“Of course,” he says, a little too quickly, pulling over and turning the car off. He unbuckles his seat belt and exhales.

Gunhoo tilts his head, clearly unconvinced. “You sure?”

Seokjin nods, forcing a smile. “Yeah. You were talking about Harin.” He remembers that much. “She brought you oranges today.” He tries. He did hear something about oranges and Harin.

Gunhoo hums, thinking. “Well… yeah. And she said her mom said I was cute, and that’s why she brought them. So I invited her to my birthday party and she was really happy. I told her she was the first one on my list. Harin is my best friend.”

Seokjin smiles softly, too distracted to remind him that his birthday is still months away.

“That’s nice,” he murmurs, stepping out of the car.

Gunhoo is already unbuckling himself when Seokjin opens the back door. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he launches into an enthusiastic explanation about birthday decorations, colors, balloons, and cakes, talking fast and with his hands like the subject is extremely serious.

Seokjin listens, nodding, humming when needed. His mood isn’t great, his thoughts still tangled, but he makes a conscious effort to stay gentle, to not let any of it reach his son.

He lifts Gunhoo out fully, sets him down, and ruffles his hair before opening the trunk.

“Hey, buddy.”

Seokjin startles so hard he nearly bumps his head on the trunk lid. He straightens too quickly, heart jumping into his throat.

He turns.

Yoongi.

“Oh–” Seokjin cuts himself off, clearing his throat.

“Uncle Puppy!” Gunhoo yells, immediately running toward him and wrapping his arms around his legs like he hasn’t seen him in years.

Which, honestly, isn’t that far from the truth.

Seokjin has been avoiding him after all.

Yoongi laughs softly and bends down. “Hey, little man.” He ruffles Gunhoo’s hair. “How’ve you been? How’s school?”

Gunhoo nods, not really answering. He drops to his knees when he spots Holly and hugs the puppy tightly as she wiggles and barks, tail going crazy. “She missed me! Look, Daddy, she missed me!”

“I’m pretty sure she did,” Yoongi says, smiling.

Seokjin stays busy longer than necessary, rearranging books that are already in place, fixing zippers that don’t need fixing. Anything to delay turning around.

He knows it’s none of his business. They barely know each other. Whatever Yoongi does with his life, with whoever he wants, doesn’t concern him.

Still.

He’d had expectations. Ones he never said out loud, ones he probably shouldn’t have had at all. Now they sit heavy in his chest, disappointment curling there in a way he doesn’t like.

He doesn’t know how to act around him anymore.

“Need help?”

Seokjin flinches slightly at Yoongi’s voice close behind him. He shakes his head a bit too fast. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

He closes the trunk and finally turns.

Yoongi steps closer and offers his hand. Seokjin hesitates, then takes it. His grip is uncertain, his palm warmer than he expects.

“You look nice,” Yoongi says easily. “That’s a good outfit.”

Seokjin lifts an eyebrow. He’s pretty sure he looks tired and wrinkled and done with the day. Yoongi always compliments him when he looks the worst. “Thanks,” he replies anyway.

He doesn’t want to sound cold. He really doesn’t. But there’s something sharp under his words that he can’t fully hide.

Yoongi seems to notice. His smile shifts, softer now, his eyes studying Seokjin like he’s trying to figure him out.

Jimin’s voice comes back to him without permission.

“Maybe that person, whoever it is, didn’t notice you caught him making out with someone else. You can just play along at the office, it doesn’t have to be awkward.”

He had to lie and say it happened at the office parking lot, he couldn’t say it was Yoongi. Thank God, Jimin believed him.

“Long day?” Yoongi asks.

Seokjin nods once, pushing Jimin’s voice away. “Yeah. Um…” He rubs the back of his neck, and doesn't know what to say to finish this awkward encounter.

“I ordered pizza.” Yoongi bursts out. “Too much pizza, actually. You wanna have some?”

His first instinct is to say no, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Yes!” Gunhoo yells, popping up between them, bouncing like he’s just won something.

Seokjin closes his eyes for half a second.

“Can we, Daddy?” Gunhoo asks, already tugging at his sleeve. “I’m really hungry.”

“You were full ten minutes ago,” Seokjin says dryly.

“I’m hungry again.”

Yoongi laughs, soft and breathy.

Seokjin pretends not to notice how it settles somewhere in his chest.

Yoongi’s smile is unfair. He learned it during that dinner at his apartment, when he’d caught himself watching it across the table, warm light and quiet conversation between them. He’d stared longer than he should have.

He hates that part of him wants to say yes too.

“Is Namjoon upstairs?” he asks instead.

Yoongi shakes his head. Relief slips out of Seokjin before he can stop it.

“But he’ll be here in like thirty minutes,” Yoongi adds. “That okay?”

Seokjin lets out a short, fake laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I like Namjoon. I mean… like, as a neighbor. He’s… cool.”

Yoongi squints at him, amused. “Sure. I’m glad you like him. He likes you too.”

“Does he like me?” Gunhoo asks, looking up at them.

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. We all like you.”

Gunhoo’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, even me.” Yoongi lowers his voice. “Just a little bit, though. Like… this much.” He pinches his fingers together and blinks at him.

Gunhoo giggles and throws himself back at Holly.

And Seokjin, annoyingly, feels something warm shift in his chest too.

~ 🌱~

The elevator ride isn’t long, but it feels like it drags on forever.

Standing so close to Yoongi again, boxed into a quiet metal space, makes Seokjin painfully aware of everything he’s been trying to avoid. The silence feels heavier than it should. There’s something awkward in the air, something unspoken, and it’s hard to pretend nothing is wrong when his chest keeps tightening like this.

Maybe Jimin is right.

Maybe Yoongi didn’t even notice that he saw him.

And maybe Seokjin should just mind his own business and let it go.

But it’s hard. Way harder than it should be.

When the doors open, Seokjin steps out almost timidly, suddenly unsure if coming here was a good idea at all. The regret hits him fast, but it nearly disappears the second Gunhoo runs into the apartment, laughter already spilling from his mouth as Holly happily chases after him, little paws clicking against the floor.

The place is different from his.

Structurally, it’s basically the same. Same layout, same size. But it doesn’t feel the same.

There are no Legos scattered around, no coloring books peeking out from under the couch, no kids’ music quietly playing in the background. No tiny socks abandoned in corners or magnets stuck crookedly on the fridge.

And yet, familiar sounds quickly fill the space anyway. Gunhoo’s high-pitched laughter echoes through the living room, followed by delighted squeals and now the sharp, playful barks of a very excited puppy.

“The pizza should be here soon,” Yoongi says, reappearing from the hallway.

Seokjin looks up, and pauses.

Yoongi has changed shirts. The new one is huge on him, the sleeves falling almost to his elbows, the fabric hanging loose over his frame. It definitely isn’t his.

It’s probably Namjoon’s.

“And… uh, do you want something to drink?” Yoongi adds.

Before Seokjin can answer, a small voice shouts from across the room.

“Yeah! I want orange juice.”

Gunhoo pops his head up from behind the couch. “Or grape juice.”

Yoongi blinks. “Sorry, Gunhoo. There’s no juice in this house.”

Gunhoo gasps dramatically. “How can that be? You should buy it. Orange juice is delicious.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’ll get some next time, okay?”

Gunhoo points at him seriously. “Orange and grape.”

“Alright. Noted.”

“And chocolate cookies.”

“Gunhoo,” Seokjin warns.

“But the cookies are for you, Daddy.”

Seokjin closes his eyes briefly. Zero shame. None at all. He got that from Taehyung, for sure.

“I’ll remember the cookies,” Yoongi promises, smiling.

Seokjin realizes too late that he’s smiling too.

“Anything else I should get for next time?” Yoongi adds lightly. “You’re my special guests.”

“Well…” Seokjin hesitates. He shouldn’t fall into this. He shouldn’t let Yoongi be sweet like this, shouldn’t let himself soften. And yet. “Will there even be a next time?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t there be? You don’t like me anymore or something?”

Seokjin lets out a small laugh, heat creeping up his neck. “I do like you.” He keeps his eyes on the floor. The words feel heavier than they should. “You’re a good neighbor.”

“And I saved your son’s life.”

Seokjin looks back up, smiling for real now. “You saved my life. I would’ve died if something had happened to him.”

Yoongi lifts his chin. “So, basically, I’m a superhero.”

Seokjin laughs, louder this time. “Yes, you are. You silly man.”

Yoongi laughs too, eyes crinkling.

It’s rare to see him like this.

They haven’t met many times, but when they have, Yoongi has always seemed quieter, more withdrawn, like someone who lives a little too much in his own head. Seeing him relaxed, smiling, joking so easily, it throws Seokjin off more than he expects.

For a moment, he forgets.

Forgets what he saw. Forgets the tight feeling in his chest. Forgets why he’s been avoiding him.

They talk while Gunhoo plays with Holly, laugh about Yoongi’s brand-new life as a pet owner. Yoongi complains dramatically about waking up early, about chewing disasters, about how one tiny puppy somehow controls his entire life now.

Seokjin teases him, comparing it to raising a kid. “Except mine asks questions and talks back.”

“And mine bites furniture.”

“Mine does that too.”

Somehow, they end up sharing things they hadn’t before. Complaints, small stories, stupid observations. Somehow, they find more in common than Seokjin would have expected.

The pizza tastes good, really good, and perfectly to Seokjin’s picky taste, which feels like a small miracle. They eat together, talking over each other, laughing, Gunhoo proudly declaring which slices are “the best ones.” Seokjin loses track of time without realizing it.

Until the door opens.

“Joon,” Yoongi says, welcoming him from the table.

Namjoon’s eyes grow in size. “Oh, hey. Wow, okay, didn’t expect an audience.”

Seokjin’s shoulders tense immediately.

“Hey, Seokjin.”

“Hi, Namjoon. Long time no see.”

Seokjin forces a bright smile, hoping it looks natural. He doesn’t want things to be weird. He really doesn’t.

Gunhoo, thankfully, saves him by immediately offering Namjoon a slice of pizza. Namjoon accepts like he’s been waiting for it all day.

Seokjin watches. He’s good with kids. Really good.

“How was work?” Yoongi asks.

Namjoon just shakes his head, mouth full. “Horrible. We had a four-hour meeting. Four fucking hours, oh… sorry.” He looks at Gunhoo, wide-eyed.

Gunhoo just shrugs. “It’s okay. Uncle Tae says naughty words too.”

Seokjin sighs. “Taehyung is ruining my child.”

Namjoon chuckles, opening his soda. “There’s an investigation. Some projects are getting delayed.”

“Investigation?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah. Embezzlement.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “Holy–”

“Yeah. It’s a mess.” Namjoon leans back. “So we’re going out tonight. It’s friday, we had a terrible day… it’s just fair we get wasted tonight.”

Yoongi frowns. “We?”

“Me, Jungkook, Hoseok… you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on.” Namjoon whines.

“Don’t ‘come on’ me.”

“It’s a nice place.”

“I don’t like bars.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “It’s expensive and exclusive… just like you”

“That doesn’t help.”

Seokjin snorts. “What’s it called?”

“Le Chamber. In Gangnam.”

Seokjin pauses. “Wait, I’ve been there. It’s actually pretty chill. Quiet. Not huge. I think you’d like it.”

Yoongi blinks at him. “Now are you teaming up against me? After I saved your life? You’re a traitor.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes but can’t hide his smile. 

Namjoon’s eyes light up. “What if Seokjin comes too?”

Seokjin chokes. “What? No.”

“See?” Yoongi mutters. “Annoying.”

“Well, unlike you, I have a child,” Seokjin says. “We still have a whole night routine ahead of us.”

Namjoon already has his phone out.

“That’s a bad excuse,” Yoongi says before biting a new slice of pizza.

Seokjin gasps. “It is not. Right, Gunhoo?”

Gunhoo nods seriously.

Yoongi snorts. “Don’t use your kid like that. That’s bad parenting.”

“What do you know about parenting?”

“I’m a father now. I have Holly.”

“Just–hold on.” Seokjin’s phone vibrates.

Taehyung.

“Hey–”

“I called mom. She’s thrilled. She wants Gunnie tonight.”

Seokjin’s jaw drops. “What?” He looks at Namjoon who’s too busy biting into his pizza. “Did you seriously just call my brother?”

Namjoon hums, mouthful. “Texted, actually.”

“I can't believe you.” He sighs, but he is quite entertained by this. “Tae, I won’t take Gunnie to mom’s house for this.”

Gunhoo lights up. “Grandma?! Can we go? Please, Daddy, please.”

Taehyung’s voice cuts in. “See? He wants to be with Mom too. You are about to ruin two people’s happiness.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “I’m not in the mood for bars.”

Yoongi smirks mischievously. “Didn’t you just say it was nice and quiet?”

Seokjin groans. “Shut up, Min Yoongi.”

“So?” Taehyung presses.

“As if you’d let me say no.”

“Yes!”

“Yes!” Namjoon cheers.

“See you there.” Seokjin hangs up and looks at Yoongi. “I guess you’re coming with us after all.”

Yoongi's smile disappears, and he and Seokjin end up looking equally doomed.

“Don’t look so sad, we’re about to have the best night.”

“Shut up,” both Seokjin and Yoongi tell him at the same time.

Meanwhile, Gunhoo happily runs to Holy to tell her the news. “Next time, I’ll take you with me.” He promises.

~ 🌱~

Yoongi likes the bar immediately.

It’s decently noisy but not overwhelming, full enough to feel alive without being suffocating. There aren’t too many people, and yet it’s far from empty. The lighting is low and warm, soft on his eyes, casting everything in gold and shadow. Jazz hums through the speakers, steady and smooth, wrapping around the conversations instead of competing with them.

It feels intimate.

Like the kind of place where nobody cares what the next table is doing. Where people stay in their own little worlds.

Seokjin hadn’t been wrong. Not at all.

They reach their reserved spot, and Jungkook is already there, leaning back comfortably with a drink in hand. He lights up the moment he sees Yoongi, but his smile stretches even wider when Namjoon appears right behind him.

They don’t even hesitate. Jungkook stands, pulls Namjoon in, and kisses him softly, naturally, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Yoongi looks away almost immediately.

For half a second, something unpleasant twists in his chest. Jealousy, maybe. Or just… longing. The kind he doesn’t let himself feel too often.

Then he straightens, reminding himself, as he always does, that he likes his life the way it is.

There’s no space for a boyfriend. No space for building something serious, no space for expectations, no space to do the things people in their thirties are apparently supposed to be doing. Half the time, he barely has space for himself.

He only just managed to make space for Holly.

“Stop it. That’s gross.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “God, you’re so homophobic.”

Yoongi snorts, taking the glass Jungkook offers him. “I’m literally gay.”

“Very gay,” Hoseok says, appearing beside them like he always does, already grinning.

“Ew, that’s actually gross,” Jungkook cuts in. “I don’t want to imagine you two.”

“Oh, you don’t have to imagine.” Hoseok leans in and kisses Yoongi without warning.

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “What the hell.”

Hoseok laughs and walks past him, sitting on the wide seat across. He pats the seat beside him. “Come sit with me.”

Yoongi goes without arguing. Hoseok makes him feel comfortable in a way not many people do.

“Who else is coming?” Hoseok asks, reaching for his own drink.

Namjoon hums. “Taehyung–”

“What Taehyung?” Hoseok interrupts.

“Kim Taehyung.”

Hoseok chokes on his drink. “The Kim Taehyung?”

Jungkook nods eagerly. “Apparently they got close.”

“How did that even happen?” Hoseok asks, genuinely baffled. “Did you work with him or something?”

“Yoongi hyung did,” Namjoon answers.

“I know, but he doesn’t befriend people,” Hoseok insists, pointing at Yoongi. “How did you get close to him?”

Namjoon chuckles. “Actually, Yoongi hyung befriended his older brother. That’s how we met Taehyung.”

Hoseok blinks. “His brother? That somehow sounds even weirder.”

“They are neighbors.”

Jungkook grins. “Wait until you hear how they met. It’s ridiculous.”

They’re just about to launch into the story when the door opens again.

And there they are.

Kim Taehyung walks in first, confidence in every step, Jimin’s hand in his. And a step behind him, Seokjin.

Yoongi’s attention locks onto him instantly.

He doesn’t look like he did at dinner. There’s no soft hair falling into his face, no warmth in his expression, no quiet, gentle dad energy.

He looks different.

He looks… hot.

He always looks good in Yoongi’s eyes. But tonight, it’s sharper. Colder. Like something dangerous wrapped in a beautiful man.

His hair is parted, styled. His brows look more defined. His face is serious, composed. There is no cute-father-Seokjin here.

Only the man underneath.

Their eyes meet.

Just for a moment.

Just a few seconds.

But it stretches. Pulls. Lingers in a way that makes Yoongi’s breath catch before he even realizes it.

Something almost like a smile touches Seokjin’s lips.

Then it’s gone.

Seokjin turns to the person beside Yoongi, and his whole face changes. The softness disappears, replaced by something closed off, distant. By the time he reaches the table, he looks serious, careful, and he doesn’t look at Yoongi again.

Yoongi gestures to the seat next to him without thinking.

Namjoon, traitorously, switches places so the brothers can sit together.

The conversation starts, but it feels forced. Stiff. The air between them is different, heavy in a way Yoongi can’t fully explain.

Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’s overthinking again. It has to be just him, the rest is laughing, joking, having fun.

He doesn’t want to make it worse. He already ruined whatever easy thing they’d had. He’s not stupid, he knows Seokjin’s been avoiding him since that dinner. Since Jimin caught him flirting in the kitchen. Since he made him uncomfortable enough that Seokjin stopped going to the park altogether, no matter how much Gunhoo loves it.

He hates himself a little for that.

For staring. For wanting. For making it obvious.

Is it clear? How much he likes him?

Is he doing it again tonight?

“Hey. You okay?”

Hoseok’s voice pulls him back.

Yoongi realizes he’s been nodding along to a conversation he hasn’t heard in thirty minutes.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Just distracted.”

Hoseok hums. “Hey guys, maybe we should change topics. Yoongi’s on vacation and we’ve been talking about work for half an hour.”

Namjoon nods. “True. Sorry man.” He throws an arm around Yoongi and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Let go,” Yoongi complains, trying to escape.

Namjoon tightens his hold. “No.”

“You’re drunk. Get off me.” Yoongi groans a bit louder.

“You’re like a cat.”

The voice isn’t Hoseok’s.

Yoongi freezes.

He looks up.

It’s Seokjin.

Yoongi almost smiles just because he’s talking to him.

“Did you just call me a cat?”

Seokjin’s ears turn red. “I… no. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Namjoon bursts out laughing, soon followed by the others. “He’s contagious. Yoongi hyung does that too. Just says whatever’s in his head.”

“At least I called him handsome,” Yoongi mutters. “I didn’t compare him to an animal.”

“Cats are cute,” Hoseok says, squeezing Yoongi’s cheeks. “I’m sure that’s what he meant. Right?”

Seokjin nods quickly. “Yeah. That.”

Jungkook snorts. “Are you sure you didn’t mean aloof? Or annoying?”

“Don’t come for me, kid,” Yoongi warns. “I’ll end you.”

Namjoon smacks his arm. “Leave him alone.”

“He started!”

Half the night goes like that. Smooth, relaxed, fun. There is a lot of alcohol involved, but it’s worth it. It almost feels like they have been friends forever, no one around could tell they all met less than a month ago.

~ 🌱~

Yoongi doesn’t like cigarettes. He almost never smokes.

But alcohol does that to him. It softens his edges, loosens his habits, makes him accept things he normally wouldn’t even consider. He never carries cigarettes himself, but Hoseok always does. And tonight, it only costs him a quick, stupid kiss in the bathroom line to get one.

He slips out to the terrace, mostly empty, cool air brushing against his flushed skin. The city spreads out in front of him, distant lights blinking softly. He lights the cigarette and inhales.

The first drag is terrible.

The second is worse.

By the third, he’s almost used to it.

That’s when it disappears from between his fingers.

“No way you smoke this shit.”

Yoongi blinks and turns, genuinely needing a second to process what he’s seeing.

Seokjin.

Standing right there.

Close.

Too close.

Yoongi has to double-check that he isn’t imagining it. Seokjin has barely acknowledged his existence all night. Beside calling him a cat, there have been no glances. No comments. Nothing.

“And suddenly,” Yoongi says slowly, “you remember I exist.”

Seokjin doesn’t answer. He just crushes the cigarette under his shoe and kicks it away. Yoongi doesn’t even bother protesting.

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks.

“You ignored me all night.”

Seokjin frowns. “Did I?”

“Yes,” Yoongi says immediately. “Definitely. After our pizza date, you just pretended I wasn’t here.”

“Pizza date?” Seokjin repeats, a breathy laugh slipping out. “Was that a date?”

Yoongi tilts his head. “Wasn’t it?”

Seokjin shakes his head slightly, gaze drifting away from him and toward the city. The lights reflect in his eyes, making him look softer. Distant.

“Drinking is dangerous for me,” he murmurs. “I talk too much. So I should probably just shut up.”

Yoongi watches him instead.

Right now, he looks better than the entire skyline.

“Are you mad at me?” His voice is almost a whisper.

Seokjin turns, surprised. “Why would I be?”

Yoongi exhales slowly. He’s grateful for the whiskey, for the warm buzz in his veins. Sober Yoongi wouldn’t be doing this. “You know why.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you, Yoongi.” He sighs. “Somehow… I’m not capable of being mad at you.”

He’s just hurt. Disappointed. Why? He doesn’t even know. Why finding out that Yoongi is cheating on his boyfriend would cause him so much distress? 

Is it because he doesn’t like cheaters? Because he doesn’t like liars? No. Seokjin is not that much of a hypocrite. He has lied to people his whole life.

He knows exactly why it hurts.

He knows it hurts because he likes him.

Because he is taken.

And because he decided to cheat with someone else.

Seokjin has already figured it all out.

He’s just ashamed to accept it.

“Don’t lie,” Yoongi says quietly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Seokjin finally looks straight at him.

He doesn’t deny it.

“…Maybe.”

Yoongi’s shoulders drop. “I’m really sorry.”

Seokjin frowns. “For what?”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. “Don’t make me say it. It’s embarrassing.”

So he does know. Seokjin thinks right away.

Yoongi knows Seokjin caught him cheating.

“Say it,” Seokjin orders.

Yoongi groans, looking away. “I don’t want to.”

“Please.”

Yoongi sighs, when he says it, he isn’t looking at Seokjin anymore. “I’m sorry for flirting with you.”

That’s clearly not what Seokjin expected to hear, his face shows. “…What?”

Yoongi looks back at him. Way too sober all of a sudden.

“I know you felt uncomfortable the other night. When Gunhoo said that at dinner. And Jimin noticed… me flirting with you, even if I wasn’t fully aware I was doing it, made me feel awful. I don’t want you to feel weird around me. I wasn’t trying to… do anything. I swear.”

Seokjin stares at him.

Completely lost.

Yoongi feels heat crawl up his neck. Shame. Nerves. Regret.

Seokjin steps closer, turning fully toward him. “Wait. Were you flirting with me that night?”

“Well–”

“Here you are!”

Hoseok pushes the doors open, stepping onto the terrace with a grin. “Did you seriously finish it already?” He pulls out another cigarette. “Unbelievable. Here, let’s share. Selfish.”

Yoongi forces a smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

When Yoongi looks back, Seokjin is already walking inside.

He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t look back.

“He’s weird,” Hoseok whispers. “Is he homophobic or something?”

Yoongi scowls. “No. He’s not.”

“He’s married and has a kid. Maybe he’s one of those straight guys who pretend to be cool because their brother’s gay.”

“He’s not married,” Yoongi says quickly. “And he loves his brother. And Jimin.”

Hoseok hums. “Still. He’s too serious. And kind of strange.”

Yoongi watches the door Seokjin disappeared through.

Serious.

Strange.

Weird.

Homophobic.

Those are not the words he would use to describe Seokjin. At all.

But he doesn’t say anything. Because if he starts, Hoseok will know. Immediately. That Yoongi likes him. 

And he’s not ready to admit out loud how badly he wants the man who just walked away.

~ 🌱~

Seokjin barely makes it down the first step before the urge hits him.

He wants to go back.

The thought of Yoongi still on that terrace, alone with his friend, makes his skin feel hot, restless, wrong. He stops, fingers tightening around the railing, and looks back toward the double doors.

For a second, he almost goes back.

Almost.

He forces himself to keep walking.

Was Yoongi really flirting with him that night?

Was he?

The question spins uselessly in his head. He knows he’ll never get a real answer. Yoongi only said all of that because he’s drunk. But Seokjin is not drunk enough to go back and face him. He is a coward.

He returns to their table and finds it empty.

Of course it is.

Taehyung and Jimin are probably making out somewhere. Namjoon and Jungkook are likely stuck in a bathroom line. He sits down alone, elbows on the table, and stares at nothing, trying to pull himself together before anyone comes back.

He checks his phone.

A message from his mom.

A picture of Gunhoo, fast asleep, cheeks squished into the pillow, hair a mess.

The tension drains out of him almost instantly.

What the hell is he doing here?

He should be home. In pajamas. With his son. Half asleep on the couch after an animated movie. Probably Finding Nemo. It’s their favorite.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Seokjin startles.

He turns to his right, meeting unfamiliar eyes. The man isn’t too close, but close enough to make Seokjin subtly shift in his chair.

“No, thanks.”

The man smiles. “Why are you sitting all alone?”

“I don’t think that’s your business.”

The man chuckles. His smile is soft. Gentle. The kind that feels… safe. “Right. But you don’t have to be an ass about it.”

Seokjin snorts. “I’m not an ass.”

“Yes, you are… with me at least.” He offers his hand. “Minho.”

“Seokjin.”

They shake.

Minho turns out to be a pilot. Born in the U.S., fluent in Korean, polite, relaxed, and, most importantly, not trying to get anything from Seokjin. Turns out friends ditched him, and he just wants company.

He was about to leave when he spotted Seokjin, at least that’s what he says.

Minho convinces him to move to his table on the other side of the bar. They sit. They talk. They drink.

Seokjin laughs more than he expects to.

Minho is funny. And attractive. And easy.

It would be easy to kiss him.

His lips look soft. His hand is warm when it slips over Seokjin’s, thumb brushing his skin like it belongs there.

It would be easy.

Seokjin deserves easy.

Just once.

He’s already leaning in before he fully realizes it.

And he does want to.

God, he does.

But he can’t.

Something stops him.

A voice.

“What are you doing?”

Yoongi.

Deep. Low. Worried.

“Seokjin.”

Seokjin turns.

Yoongi’s eyes are dark, intense. Just like they’ve been on him all night. He’d felt them.

“Hey… are you okay?” Yoongi asks, hands coming up to hold Seokjin’s face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. “Do you hear me?” Then he turns sharply to Minho. “Did you put something in his drink?”

“What?” Minho looks genuinely startled.

Seokjin laughs breathlessly. “Yoongi, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Yoongi snaps. “What are you doing?”

Seokjin sighs and stands. He bows slightly to Minho. “I’m sorry for this. And thank you. For the company.”

Minho nods, confused but kind. “Take care.”

Seokjin walks straight out.

Of course life isn’t easy.

Of course Yoongi follows him.

Of course it’s Seoul.

And of course it’s raining.

“Where are you going?”

Seokjin crosses the street and ducks under the small roof of a convenience store. The street is dark, almost empty. The rain falls steady, cold.

“I needed air.”

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair. “Why are you being so weird tonight?”

“I’m not.”

“You were about to kiss a random guy,” Yoongi says. “That’s weird to me.”

Seokjin frowns. “Why is that weird?”

“…Because you have a girlfriend.”

Seokjin laughs. Loud. Bitter. “That’s funny coming from you.”

Yoongi stiffens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How long are you gonna keep the act up? You’re a terrible liar, you know. I’ve seen you all night.”

Seen him and Hoseok. They couldn't even hide the stupid flirting.

Yoongi exhales sharply. “I already apologized for flirting with you. What, do you want me to apologize for looking at you too?”

“Looking at me?” Seokjin scoffs. “You weren’t really looking at me.”

Of course he was, Seokjin felt him, but also saw him fooling around with the other guy.

This is a dangerous game, and no matter how much Seokjin likes his eyes, his gummy smile, or his deep voice. He won't fall into the trap. He is not that stupid. 

“You’re too drunk,” Yoongi mutters. “You’re not making any sense right now. I think we should go home.”

Seokjin turns away.

Rain fills the silence. Cars pass. Water splashes everywhere. It’s too dark, too cold, and too late. 

“Why do you look so mad at me?” Seokjin finally asks, without looking.

“I don’t like how you’re acting,” Yoongi answers. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Seokjin turns back, confused.

“Just because you’re in a gay bar doesn’t mean you get to play with people,” Yoongi continues. “You like women. You have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not right.”

Something finally clicks.

Seokjin finally understands what he means.

Yoongi had assumed that he was…

Seokjin can’t even say it. It’s ridiculous.

He laughs.

Yoongi’s face hardens immediately, turning around.

Before he can walk away, Seokjin grabs his hand firmly, stopping him. Yoongi looks down at his hold.

Their hands are cold, and it feels wrong. Forbidden. But Yoongi doesn't pull away.

“You’re mad because I almost kissed a guy,” Seokjin says quietly.

“You shouldn’t play with people.”

“I don’t,” Seokjin whispers. “And you don’t get to judge me.”

“I’m not judging you.”

“I hate my life sometimes,” Seokjin admits. The words slip out before he can stop them. “No matter what I do or how much I try to please people, it is never enough.”

Yoongi shakes his head, finally pulling his defense down. “I’m not judging you, Seokjin.” He repeats. More certain than mad this time. 

“But you are,” he whispers. “Do you know I’ve barely kissed her twice? My girlfriend, I mean.”

Yoongi looks away.

The world suddenly feels too real.

“Did you know I realized I liked men in high school?” Seokjin continues. “I was really young, and really stupid.”

Yoongi’s eyes lift back to him. “You don’t have to tell me something you don’t want to.”

“But, I want to.” Seokjin confesses. “I think you’re nice, and it hurts that you judge me.”

“I don’t judge you,” Yoongi assures once again. He grabs Seokjin’s left hand as well, pulling him closer. “I think you are a good guy, and a good dad, and–”

Seokjin rests his forehead against Yoongi’s, cutting his words short.

Yoongi’s skin is soft. Just like he imagined. He breathes him in.

“Min Yoongi, I would eat you right now if I could.” His breath ghosts over his mouth.

Yoongi shudders, feels like he heard wrong, but Seokjin it’s so close that he must have heard right. 

“Kiss me, then.” He dares in a whisper.

Seokjin’s voice breaks. “Don’t do this to me, please.”

Yoongi lets go of his hands, cupping his face, bringing him closer if it’s possible. “Do what?”

“Make me want you. Even more.”

Their eyes lock. There’s fear. There’s desire.

Timidly, Yoongi brushes his lips against the corner of his mouth, there’s barely a touch, but it makes Seokjin hiss. “Yoongi.”

He brushes the corner of his mouth again. “Come on, kiss me.”

“Yoongi, please.”

Seokjin doesn’t know what he’s begging for anymore. To let go? For a kiss?

What is it?

His phone rings.

“Fuck that,” Yoongi whispers.

“Wait.” Seokjin, against his will, checks on it immediately. He has a son, and a responsibility.

But it’s not his mother, it’s Taehyung.

“One second.”

Yoongi nods, letting go of his face.

Seokjin holds his hand tightly.

He brings his phone to his ear and before he can speak, his brother’s voice comes in. “Let him go,” Taehyung warns. “We’re about to leave. Namjoon’s looking for him. Let him go before we walk out.”

Seokjin lets his hand go immediately. Yoongi, confused, tries to chase after him.

“We can’t.”

He doesn't explain further, he doesn’t have to. Yoongi hears as the familiar voices echo from across the street. He doesn’t try to reach anymore.

“Can we talk about this at home?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Honestly, I don’t want to talk about this ever again.”

Yoongi wants to protest, but Seokjin is gone before that.

Crossing the street.

Yoongi watches the scene unfold. He watches as Seokjin waves the group goodbye, watches him enter Taehyung’s car, even before Taehyung himself. Finally, watches the car leave without fully understanding what had just happened. It all seems confusing. 

He doesn’t say a word about it to his friends, and declines Hoseok’s apartment invitation.

And, even if he knows it’s a bad idea, he rings Seokjin’s doorbell as soon as he gets home. Not getting an answer back.

It doesn’t really matter. He is not disappointed.

Yoongi knows he is wanted, that’s more than he could have wished for.

But now he wishes, more than ever before. And he promises himself one thing: he won't give up until Seokjin’s lips are on his.