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After everything went to shit, after the heist went bad, after Taehyung had told him to leave, to go back to Daegu, Seokjin’s panicked flight narrowed down to a single point of focus. He and Taehyung separated, and he just had to trust that his brother knew what he was doing and that Namjoon wouldn’t hold him back too much.
The first thing he needed to do was to get out of Seoul, which meant getting on the train undetected. Walking quickly, but not too quickly, he casually shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and slung it over his arm, then dropped it on a park bench when nobody was looking. He did the same thing with his button down shirt and tie, keeping his head low. He was just in his undershirt and dress pants now, still noticeable, but not as bad.
Once he got out of the neighborhood he’d been in, he felt safe hopping on a bus. He didn’t care which one, just anything to take him a few stops away from where he’d been. The bus ride was torture, the forced inactivity making his thoughts loop in a spiral of worry about Taehyung, about getting out, about seeing Yoongi again.
At his next stop, he went into a convenience store and picked up a few snacks, a bottle of water, and a bottle of soju. Splashing half the soju on himself and sucking down a few good swigs, Seokjin went two streets over and then stumbled into another store, a tourist trap packed with branded merchandise. He pretended to be drunk, stumbling in and giggling, as he bought some ugly sandals and a shirt with a silhouette of the Seoul skyline on it. He changed right in the store, to the delight and feigned horror of the elderly woman working there.
She might remember him, but it wasn’t his face she’d remember.
Stuffing his snacks into his bag from the store, Seokjin made his way to the train station without anyone following him. He had a burner phone with a payment app tied to a credit card under three layers of aliases that he used to buy a business class ticket in the silent car, with the hopes that he could get some rest during the trip.
As he got settled in to the mostly empty train, his phone -- his real phone, the one only a few people had access too -- buzzed with a notification.
An unknown number, and a single emoji: a blue tropical fish.
Tension easing out of his body, Seokjin slumped against the seats. It was Taehyung, that was their code. He was okay, he was on the move. Just keep swimming, no worries.
…...
The Daegu house wasn’t a house. It wasn’t just an apartment either, it was a squat little building in Nam-gu wedged between a cram school and a bakery. Yoongi’s custom furniture gallery was on the street level, a sleek and understated showroom highlighting his work, as well as that of other local artisans. Most of his orders came in from online and very few people walked in off the street, which is how Yoongi liked it. Security was easier when you just had to monitor a few faces.
The back of the building was Yoongi’s workshop, a calm, obsessively organized space where Yoongi spent most of his time. Seokjin didn’t think he could go in there, the sense memory of the smell of wood mixed with oil, the scrape-scrape-scrape of a lathe, Yoongi’s soft wordless humming under his breath-- it was too much.
Upstairs were three apartments. They’d knocked down a wall or two and added doors where plain walls had been, so they could use it as a sort of rabbit warren of rooms, but it didn’t look like one cohesive space. To an outsider, it would be hard to tell that it wasn’t three separate apartments, as another layer of security.
Seokjin wondered how many of the rooms Yoongi was actually using and how many of them were just closed off. He wondered if Yoongi got lonely. He wondered -- no, he would know if Yoongi had someone new, Jimin would have told him, he still kept in touch with Yoongi.
There was an entrance on the side of the building, almost completely obscured in darkness, but the little red flashes from the security cameras gave it away. Exhaustion suddenly caught up to Seokjin now that he was here, in front of Yoongi’s place, the edges of dawn starting to break through the night sky. He stumbled the last few steps to the door. How long had it been since he slept? Had a real meal? He was wearing a tourist shirt and still smelled like sweat and dried soju and was about to go knocking on his ex’s door. Great. What a night.
Seokjin didn’t actually bother with anything as subtle as knocking. He just walked up and tripped the alarm, then sent finger hearts to the security cameras.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, there was a thudding sound from inside, a patter of footsteps and then, all of a sudden, there was Yoongi.
He looked almost exactly the same as the last time Seokjin had seen him. Less angry though, he brain supplied. He was wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt and a worried expression. His hair had gotten longer and it was getting into his eyes. Seokjin was tired enough that he half-lifted his hand to brush it away, until he stopped himself.
Before Seokjin could speak, Yoongi beat him to it. “Taehyung?”
“Safe,” Seokjin said quickly. “As far as I know he's safe, we split up, he gave me the all clear.”
Yoongi relaxed. He looked around, assessing. “You weren’t followed?”
“I’m better than that,” Seokjin snapped. He was too tired and hungry for this, this was a bad idea. He just couldn’t think of anywhere else he wanted to be.
“Hmmm,” Yoongi hummed. “Come inside, quick, before anyone sees you.” He opened the door wider behind him and motioned Seokjin inside.
Yoongi had clearly made one of the apartments -- the small one to the back -- entirely his own. It was decorated with his own furniture, some plants, and in the spare, clean, elegant style Seokjin associated with him.
“Are you injured?”
Dropping heavily onto one of the kitchen chairs, Seokjin shook his head. “Just tired. Really tired.”
Yoongi filled the kettle at the sink, then clicked it on. He sat down across from Seokjin, looking him over. “Job gone bad, I assume.” He was keeping his face expressionless, but Seokjin could read the lines of anger in his posture.
Seokjin laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. It went to hell and we shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Seoul was getting too tight, we should have stopped three jobs ago.”
Yoongi didn’t ask why they didn’t stop. They weren’t ready for that wound to be opened again, but Seokjin answered anyway as Yoongi got up to make them tea.
“You know Taehyung,” he said, his chest tight with worry and a rush of affection. “His heart’s too damn big.” Yoongi snorted. He’d always had such a soft spot for Taehyung. He brought over the tea and, after checking in the fridge, a few rolls of kimbap, clearly homemade.
Seokjin stuffed three slices of kimbap in his mouth and said, “I'm out. I'm done. It's just not safe, we went too far.” He explained it all as briefly as he could, the heist, the alarm, the escape. He didn’t mention Namjoon.
“And this is the first place you came? You just showed up here?”
“if you don’t think this first place i’d go--” Seokjin laughed, bitter and hollow.
“Give me one reason why I’d think that.” Yoongi put his cup down and leaned back in his chair, smacking the table in frustration. “You can stay, I’m not kicking you out, but I really, really don’t understand why you’re here.”
“I needed--”
“What you need, from my understanding, is to be out of the country. Sooner rather than later.” Yoongi pinned him down with his glare. “You have the money and resources to do that. Instead, you’re only an hour and a half train ride from Seoul. It doesn’t add up.”
Yoongi was right, of course. He should be boarding a plane on his way to Delhi or Cairo or New York right now. He should have cut his hair already, put on one of his cheap, rumpled business suits. The image was clear in his mind, the persona he’d have to adopt was right at the surface, ready to touch. A middle manager at Hyundai, off on one of his first international trips for the company. Quiet, polite, eager to please. Seokjin could put that on without a second thought, and he’d be free.
Weariness smacked into him like a tsunami. He was so, so tired of running.
There was a lot he wanted to say to Yoongi, but not like this. Not when he felt like one giant, raw nerve. But Yoongi had the right to ask these questions.
“I’m not here to beg your forgiveness,” Seokjin said, holding up his hands. “Or bring up old fights. I can leave whenever you want, just say the word.”
“I told you that you could stay and I meant it,” Yoongi said quietly. “and I think I did enough begging for both of us, don't you?”
Seokjin had no response to that.
Yoongi deflated, the fight gone out of him. “I’m sorry,” he said. He stood up and put his cup in the sink. Seokjin took a sip of his own tea. It was lukewarm, but he drank it anyway. Mint, and something else sharply herbal. “You must be exhausted. Come on, you can stay in Tae’s old room.”
He led Seokjin through a door cut into the side of the kitchen, entering into another kitchen, then over into Taehyung’s old room. It had been redecorated in shades of desert brown. “If you want to get in the shower, I’ll bring you some clothes and a towel.”
“Yoongi,” Seokjin said, the name tumbling out of his mouth without another thought. Yoongi turned to look at him. Seokjin wished he knew what Yoongi was thinking, but he hadn’t kicked him out, and that was something. “I’m tired,” he said. “I just want to be home.”
“Seoul is your home,” Yoongi said, turning his back to him again, preparing to leave.
It was the exhaustion that loosened his tongue, the fear, the dull pain and sharp joy of seeing Taehyung find love and toss everything away for it, the way Seokjin had been too much of a coward to do. “No,” Seokjin said, leaning his weight against the bathroom door “you are.”
Yoongi paused, but didn’t turn around. “I’ll get you a towel,” he said, after a beat of silence.
Right. Seokjin didn’t know what else he was expecting.
When Seokjin got out of the shower, there was a fresh comforter on the bed and a towel draped over the bathroom door handle. Sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie were on the bed, along with a three-pack of boxers and a new toothbrush. A small packet of vitamins and a bottle of water were on the nightstand, as well as a note with Yoongi’s phone number.
Seokjin felt the weight and warmth of Yoongi’s care, like it was a physical thing in the room with him. It gave him a tiny spark of hope that warmed him as he finally fell into bed, letting sleep overtake him.
…..
It was late afternoon by the time Seokjin woke up, thirsty and disoriented. He chugged the water on the nightstand and took the vitamins and tried to get his head together.
There was a notification on his phone from an overseas number. He opened it to find a picture of an open window with gauzy white curtains, flung open to show the rooftops of some European city below. A corner of a bed was visible in the lower left of the picture, as if the photographer was in bed while taking it. A man's bare arm and shoulder were just in the frame, relaxed in sleep.
Taehyung and Namjoon had made it out of the country, then. That was good. Trust Taehyung to make it romantic, he always did everything in style.
I love you, be safe he replied.
The answer came immediately. you???
Seokjin sent back a blue tropical fish. Then, after a moment of thought, a cat.
Taehyung responded with a scrunched-eyes laughing emoji. tell him i love him too, give him a kiss for me
Brat. Seokjin didn't dignify that with a response.
There was a noise outside, a rumble of a bus and someone yelling, that pulled Seokjin’s focus for a moment, and when he looked back at his phone there was a new notification. Yoongi.
i’m not sure when you’ll be up, but there’s food
Seokjin’s stomach growled, but he couldn’t make himself get out of bed. He remembered the conversation he’d had with Yoongi last night and felt his whole body burn with embarrassment. God, he really just put himself out there, didn’t he? Like a fool. Covering his face in his hands, Seokjin briefly weighed the merits of just staying in bed and never showing his face until the heat death of the universe, but then his stomach growled again, and he remembered how good Yoongi’s cooking is.
“You’re not the boss of me,” he told his stomach sternly as he got out of bed to get ready for the day.
Just before he walked into the kitchen, Seokjin stopped again, took a moment to shove back the embarrassment and shyness at seeing Yoongi again in full daylight, awake and aware, then opened the door.
Yoongi was at the stove stirring a pot of what looked and smelled like tteokguk. He’d changed and his hair was wet, like he’d just showered. There was a time where Seokjin would have come up behind him, wrapped his arms around him, and kissed the back of his neck while he watched him cook.
Instead, he pulled out one of the chairs, sat in it as obnoxiously loud as he could manage, and said, “Hey, Yoongi-yah, do you want to hear a funny story about Taehyung and his lawyer?”
Yoongi dropped his spoon, then cursed as it sunk into the soup pot. “Wait, why does Taehyung have a lawyer?”
“Oh,” Seokjin said. “This is good.” He told the story as they ate, making it even sillier and more ridiculous than it was. He left out his own worry, his panicked fear that Taehyung was going to be stuck in jail for good, that he wouldn’t be able to get him out. Yoongi had always been a good audience for Seokjin’s stories and that hadn’t changed; he screeched with laughter at the best parts, and set up Seokjin’s punchlines for him. It was nice, like they were a team again, just for a few minutes.
“And now,” Seokjin finished, holding up one finger as he took out his phone. He showed Yoongi the picture Taehyung had sent him.
Yoongi smiled softly Seokjin’s phone, shaking his head. “That kid,” he said. “He always lands on his feet.”
“Almost didn’t happen this time,” Seokjin said, feeling a phantom chill go through him.
Yoongi was giving him a look. It was smug and annoying and Seokjin had one hundred percent earned it. “Fine,” Seokjin said, spreading his arms wide and leaning back, letting his head fall against the back of the chair in a gesture of surrender. “Let me have it, I know you’re dying to say it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yoongi sniffed. Stubborn ass.
Seokjin just made “come here’ gestures with both his hands. “Come on, give it to hyung, you know you want to.” He lifted his head and arched an eyebrow at Yoongi, whose mouth twitched.
“I told you so,” Yoongi said in a frustrated rush, leaning forward.
“Ah, there it is.”
Yoongi ignored him. “I told you years ago-- we’re rich, we don’t need it, there are always going to be bad men in the world, why get ourselves killed over it? Why not push change in a different way? You and Taehyung are so goddamn stubborn, it’s a miracle you both didn’t end up in jail or dead. And this lawyer? What stupid fucking luck that Taehyung isn’t facing twenty years in prison that his lawyer happened to be gay and susceptible to Taehyung’s charms.” He took a breath. “If you had listened to me, you’d have been able to build some kind of real life, instead of putting together something on the fly. You’d be comfortable in Seoul right now--”
That brought Seokjin up short. He sat up. “What do you mean, I’d be in Seoul?”
Yoongi stopped talking, his hands still in the air. His mouth dropped open in a little pout. “What do you mean what do I mean?”
“I mean, I’d be here.” Seokjin stabbed at the table with his chopsticks. “If I’d gotten out then, I’d have stayed right here with you. I did get out, and I am here with you.”
Yoongi put his hands down. “I don’t want to assume what your motivations are and I don’t like to interrogate the past. I’m trying to move forward.”
“Well that’s noble of you,” Seokjin said, and instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m trying here.” Move forward, Yoongi had said. Not move on.
“I know,” Yoongi said. He looked down at his hands. “I understand why you stayed with Taehyung. I really do, and I thought I'd made my peace with it. You’ve just thrown me, showing up like this.”
Seokjin didn't have a good answer for that. Yoongi stood up. “I'm going to the workshop for a bit.”
“I’ll clean up here,” Seokjin said, happy to drop the subject. “And if it's okay that I stay another night, I think I still need to sleep for at least 12 hours.”
Yoongi looked surprised. “When I said you could stay, I meant however long you need.” He paused, and Seokjin thought he could see his ears and neck go pink. “Or however long you want, I guess.”
“Okay.”
“I think I made myself clear when you left last time. My feelings- none of that has changed.”
Yoongi, his head down, crying. Seokjin’s heart, breaking apart in his chest--
“Okay.” Seokjin wondered if he’d somehow been turned to stone. He couldn't seem to move any parts of his body.
Yoongi looked at him, waiting. He probably wanted Seokjin to say something, but he was frozen in ice, paralyzed by the weight of his past decisions, useless in the face of Yoongi’s quiet, patient love.
“Have a good rest, hyung,” Yoongi finally said, leaving and closing the door behind him.
Surprisingly, he did. Seokjin cleaned the kitchen meticulously. He checked several bank accounts, moved some money around, and applied for a credit card under one of his aliases. When things calmed down, he’d be able to move more freely, but for now, he wanted to secure as much of his funds as possible.
He ordered some clothes and toiletries online to be sent to Yoongi’s place, as well as an extra phone charger and some other small necessities. When that was done, he was able to go back to bed and fall asleep, his mind clearer than it had been in months.
….
When Seokjin woke up again, it was dark. He checked his phone. 3:25 am. Yoongi was probably back and asleep.
They needed to talk. Seokjin should have said something earlier. Regret sat uncomfortably in his stomach, remembering how Yoongi had said, “My feelings haven’t changed.” He had always been the brave one of the two of them. Seokjin was so tired of the life he’d been living. He’d been so tired for so long, and so heartbroken for so long, he didn’t know how to let either of those things go. When the chance for happiness is put in front of you, how do you just take it, after running for so long?
Seokjin thought about the way Yoongi had welcomed him in. He thought about how Yoongi told him that he could stay as long as he wanted. He thought about how carelessly he’d treated both of their hearts, so long ago.
He wanted to stay. And if he wanted to stay, he needed to talk. No more guessing.
Quietly, he went through his apartment into the adjoining one, moving purposefully toward Yoongi’s bedroom.
Seokjin came into Yoongi’s room, not bothering to sneak. If Yoongi mistook him for an intruder, that could be a very painful mistake, Seokjin knew that from experience.
Yoongi woke up just as Seokjin knelt next to the bed. He squinted at Seokjin in the darkness. “...hyung?”
His hair was stuck up in all directions and his pajama top twisted sideways, one button open. He looked so cute and so dear that Seokjin couldn't speak for a second. He swallowed hard.
“I’m not begging, because that would be unfair,” he whispered. “but I want you to know that I'm not leaving until you tell me to.”
“Okay,” Yoongi said groggily. He was frowning, but he looked more adorably confused than angry.
“I gave up on us once and I'm not doing it again. You're the love of my life, I just thought you should know that.” Seokjin could feel his face burning in the dark.
“Noted,” Yoongi said. Seokjin couldn't tell what he was thinking.
“I just don't think i made that very clear last time, and I'm sorry. I'm not sorry I stayed with Taehyung, but I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I was giving up.”
Yoongi stared at him through the darkness. “Thank you,” Yoongi said softly. “Go back to bed, hyung, and tomorrow we can talk.”
“I never want to acknowledge this conversation,” Seokjin said, with feeling. “I’ve already forgotten it, actually.”
Yoongi made a noise that might have been repressed laughter. “Okay,” he said. Then, when Seokjin didn’t get up, he asked, “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”
“Is--”
“Just sleep,” Yoongi said, yawning. “I’m tired, and we need to talk more before-- before anything else.”
Seokjin crawled into bed with him. It was too small to try not to touch Yoongi, but Seokjin tried to make himself as small as possible, clasping his hands in front of himself so he couldn’t reach out and touch.
“Good night, hyung,” Yoongi said, and rolled over. Seokjin listened to his breathing even out into gentle soft snores.
Seokjin didn’t sleep, not really. He stared at the walls and felt the heat of Yoongi next to him and thought that maybe Taehyung wasn’t the only one who always landed on his feet. After the sunlight started creeping in through the windows, Seokjin dozed off for a few minutes, and woke to Yoongi on his side, leaning over and watching him sleep.
“Morning,” Seokjin said. His brain felt fuzzy and his body was heavy and warm. He was supposed to be talking to Yoongi, maybe, but this was nicer than talking, being quiet and close in the soft light of the early morning.
Yoongi didn’t say anything, he just brushed Seokjin’s hair back from his forehead and smiled. He didn’t remove his hand and just started petting Seokjin like he couldn’t believe he was really there.
“What's wrong?” Seokjin asked, trying to distract himself from the gentle touch of Yoongi’s fingers against his cheek, “Too overwhelmed by my beauty to speak? It's okay, you can admit it.”
“I've never been a sucker for your pretty face,” Yoongi whispered, tracing his cheekbone, down his jaw, ghosting over the corner of his mouth. Seokjin shivered. “It was everything else that got me.”
Seokjin closed his eyes. He was too in love to listen to this nonsense.
Talking. He was supposed to be talking. “I ordered some clothes,” he said. “If I’m going to be here for a while.”
Yoongi’s hand stilled. “How long is a while?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Seokjin said. “Foreverish, I guess. Ballpark figure.”
“Mmmm,” Yoongi said, resuming his gentle touches. “We should take it slow, though.”
“You’re the boss.”
Yoongi snorted.
“I hate to tell you,” Seokjin said, “I’m in love with you, have been for years. I’m not sure how slow that is.”
“Seems like a problem,” Yoongi agreed.
“And we’re living together now, that’s not slow. We’re cohabiting. We’re roommates.”
“I needed a roommate. This place is too big for just me.”
Seokjin turned his head to look directly at Yoongi, who was looking down at him so soft and open and fond, he couldn’t breathe for a second.
Without warning, Yoongi closed the distance between them and kissed him softly on the lips. Seokjin cupped his jaw with shaking hands before he could move away and kissed him back. Everything felt like a dream. “What happened to taking it slow?”
“I said we should,” Yoongi said with a slight pout. Seokjin couldn't wait to kiss him again, so he did. “I didn't say I wanted to.”
“You know what I think?” Seokjin asked. “I think you were a sucker for my pretty face all along.”
Yoongi huffed, indignant, and sat back on the bed, making a big performance out of it. Fuck, Seokjin loved him so much. He couldn’t believe he was getting this second chance.
“I’m serious, though,” Yoongi said, dropping the act. “I want to be cautious. I can’t just jump back into this because you showed up on my doorstep. I’m-- I’m here, I love you, but there’s a lot behind us.”
“Yeah.” Seokjin reached out and took his hand. “And I’m serious about the roommates thing. I’ll live in the other apartment while we figure this out. I want-- I want to do this right.”
“Okay,” Yoongi said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“I’m going to woo the hell out of you though,” Seokjin said, settling onto his back. He didn’t let go of Yoongi’s hand.
“Oh my god,” Yoongi muttered, throwing his free arm over his eyes.
“You don’t know what you’re in for Yoongi, I have years to make up for, this is going to be non-stop romance, 24/7 loving, I’m planning on a moment where I accidentally drop my towel--”
“You have your own bathroom,” Yoongi interrupted.
“Yoongi, please respect my space when I’m workshopping ideas, I need my creative freedom.”
“I can’t believe I missed you so much,” Yoongi said, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Well, I have good news for you,” Seokjin said, pulling Yoongi’s hand to his mouth and kissing it softly. “You don’t have to miss me anymore.”
“I guess I don’t.” Yoongi pulled him in close and sighed, resting their heads together.
Before they fell asleep for a second time, Seokjin took a picture of their entwined hands and sent it to Taehyung, with a heart, a cat, another heart, and a heart eyes emoji.
Taehyung answered almost immediately: i love happy endings