Chapter Text
Yoongi had never spared a thought for dating since the onset of his career. Scarred by a traumatic experience with his toxic ex-boyfriend, he had shut himself off from any romantic entanglements for a long while.
Once his career gained momentum, he buried himself in a relentless cycle of schedules and song production, leaving no room for personal exploration.
As a result, he hadn't had the opportunity to explore his own preferences and desires. While he recognized a preference for men over women, there had been occasional instances of attraction to certain women, though fleeting and inconclusive.
It was a disconcerting realization. Despite his success in the music industry, Yoongi felt like a stranger within his own skin. He couldn't pinpoint his likes or dislikes, his tastes in anything beyond the realm of music, or even his favorite food. His entire identity seemed overshadowed by the rhythm and melody of his compositions.
Amidst the whirlwind of his career, there were moments where his attention was captured by certain individuals, particularly within the industry itself.
One such figure was Kim Namjoon, better known as RM, an underground rapper whom Yoongi had encountered early in his career. Namjoon possessed a striking physique, his muscular frame contrasting with his endearing dimples, yet his gaze held an intensity, a fiery determination that captivated Yoongi from the start.
Since that initial meeting, Yoongi found himself drawn to men with a similar stature and presence – a preference for big, muscular individuals that seemed to resonate with his own inner desires and inclinations.
Just as now, his eyes couldn't help but rake shamelessly down at the strange man's bulking figure. His eyes discreetly bore at the man's bulging biceps, gaze sliding down his inked arms, towards the veiny hand and long fingers that held the wheel, while his other hand shifted the gear stick accordingly.
None of them utter a word, the jeep's sputtering noise being the only sound that reaches Yoongi's ears at the moment. The forest was pitch dark, nothing could be seen around him, only the bumpy road ahead of them, lightened by the headlight.
The man beside him held a mysterious aura around him. Yoongi had just realised that he hasn't asked for the man's name yet. Not that he cares enough to know more about him, it's entirely out of the need to address him in some way.
"U-uhm..." He starts, grabbing the man's attention, who wordlessly glanced at him for a moment to let him know that he's listening. "You never told me your name." He mutters, almost inaudibly.
"Jeongguk." The man replies curtly. Yoongi doesn't bother to ask him his family name, content with just knowing his first name for the time being. The ride falls silent again, the sputtering noise infiltrating his ears once more.
It continues the throughout the journey, until Yoongi could finally make out a small figure of his family house at a far distance. Once the jeep stops in front of the huge doors, Yoongi hops off the vehicle, walking behind to retrieve his luggage.
"Don't worry about it, I'll take those up." Jeongguk says, getting off the jeep as well.
"You don't have to-" Yoongi starts to deny but Jeongguk cuts him off quickly.
"It's my job." Yoongi flinched at the man's tone, voice sounding irritated. So, he shut his mouth and watched silently as Jeongguk slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and hoisted the suitcase on his other shoulder, just like he did earlier.
Yoongi tried not to shamelessly gape at his bulging biceps as he followed the other man inside the house.
It was pretty much the same as the day Yoongi had last seen it. The small sofa, big enough to fit atleast two people at once, layed unchanged at its usual position.
The television in front of it, however, has changed. It's a brand new modern television that has replaced the old one from the 90s.
He looked around the dark living room, everything the same at its place, he was grateful for that. Yoongi couldn't usually adapt to a change in environment, often leading to sickness and sleepless nights.
He makes his way up the stairs, towards the master bedroom, opening the door to reveal a large bed lined with designer wooden frames around it.
It was old-fashioned, his grandfather's choice. His exhaustion starts building back up after seeing the bed, his body wanting nothing more than some sleep.
He listens to his body, crashing down on the rather stiff mattress that he couldn't care less about. He doesn't even bother to take off his clothes, too exhausted to even move a muscle.
The temperature here is somewhat colder than Seoul, slowly lulling him into a comfortable slumber sooner than he thought.
-
Yoongi felt like it had been only five minutes before the sunrays hit his face. Ah, he had forgotten to draw the curtains close.
The window was big and directly faced the east direction, of course his grandfather loved to bask in the first rays of the sun. He hates it, absolutely hates the sun and it's stupid rays. He just wanted to sleep peacefully, is that too much to ask?
Yoongi knows that once he gets up to close the curtains, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Defeated, he decides to get up, still feeling heavily exhausted.
He might have to nap in the afternoon to regain his somewhat existing energy. That is if the temperature doesn't decide to be a bitch and join hands with sun to bite him on the ass. He could already feel the sweat trickling in his grimy clothes.
Just as he was about to head to the shower, he realised that he hadn't unpacked his suitcase and bag. He groans and opens the old, worn out wardrobe, expecting to see his suitcase and duffle bag.
Instead, he was met with neatly hanging clothes—his own clothes, categorised by color. Some of his shirts and pants were placed neatly folded on the shelf below the hanging t-shirts.
There is only one man who could have done this, Jeongguk.
He must have came in to handover his luggage last night, but unpacked everything himself when he saw Yoongi knocked out on the bed. Yoongi blushed at the stranger's thoughtfulness.
He opened the first drawer which contained rolled up socks that were also placed by color accordingly. He assumed that the stranger must have an obsession with colour coordinated stuff.
Then he opened the second drawer and was met with the frightening sight of his underwears, folded and sorted by color as well. To say he was embarassed by the situation would be an understatement—he was mortified.
The thought of Jeongguk, a stranger—a hot stranger, seeing and touching his underwear is horrifying. He was pretty sure that some of the underwears weren't even washed.
Due to his heavy schedule in the last few days of his career, he had forgone any sense of basic human hygiene, thinking he would have enough time after he retired.
He did have enough time but he didn't act on it, and as usual, it came back to bite his ass. He could only hope that the underwears don't smell and that Jeongguk hadn't noticed anything.
He closed the embarrassing drawer with shame, opting to look for a towel instead. He found some in the first drawer to his right, none of them belonging to him.
Now that he thinks about it, he must have forgotten to pick his towel which he had hung out in his balcony to dry off, probably still hanging in his lone balcony, its fate sealed to be hung in there till Yoongi goes back.
He sighed and picked one out from the drawer before heading towards the adjacent bathroom to shower. Once inside, he saw all his toiletries and skincare products lined on the cabinet and shelves.
All were sorted and categorised according to their specific use. Jeongguk had really taken the time to do all these, something not even a servant would do for him.
He felt genuinely grateful, the taller man had taken the time to save him from the effort of unpacking. He rid himself off his grimy clothes, hopping into the shower instantly. He moaned at the cold water flowing down his skin, cooling him off.
He scrubbed his body clean with soap and shampooed his hair before doing his skincare routine as he usually does, brushing his teeth right after. He usually brushes his teeth before showering but today he desperately needed to clean his body more than his mouth.
He came back in his room, got dressed, and descended down the stairs towards the kitchen to sate his growling stomach.
There he was met with a refreshing bowl of cold noodles and seperate banchans containing different kinds of veggies, grilled meat, mushrooms, tofu and two different sauces, nicely placed on the table.
His mouth visibly watered at the sight. He couldn't remember how long it has been since he had sat down and ate a proper meal, or even breakfast.
He wasted no time and sat down haphazardly, grabbing his chopsticks and digging into the icy noodles.
Jeongguk was nowhere in sight, which was better in a way considering the way Yoongi was gobbling the food down like air, very unattractively, a sight nobody—especially the hot stranger—shall see.
He couldn't help himself, he hasn't eaten since yesterday morning, a whole twenty-four hours. It wasn't only his sleep schedule that was fucked up, his eating schedule was almost non-existent.
It wasn't like he has been deliberately avoiding food to lose weight and look attractive, it was genuinely because he was too engrossed in his music studio to even move a muscle, much less than eat, leading to the building up of the habit of not eating on time.
Once he was finished, which was in no time, as if he actually just inhaled the food into his body, he opted to clean the dishes. He was half expecting to impress Jeongguk. After all, finishing all of the food made by someone was already impressing, washing the dishes were just cherry on top.
After he was done with the dishes, he carefully placed them in each cabinet, where they belonged, and cleaned the table as well.
Then he decided to check his phone, which wasn't to hard to search as it was only laying on top of the coffee table in the living room. No texts or calls, as expected.
Since his phone was running on low battery, he plugged it in and headed out to take a walk around the estate.
When he stepped outside, he was instantly hit by the warm breeze. As warm as it was, he was glad it wasn't humid, so he wouldn't sweat till his clothes are sticking uncomfortably onto his body.
Although, the main reason he felt hot was not the sun or warm breeze, it was the sight in front of him. Before his eyes, was his car, all sparkling and wet, just looking brand new as the day he bought it.
Beside it, however, stood the man responsible for the sweat forming on Yoongi's temple and his agape mouth.
Jeongguk, unaware of the ex-idol's presence, scrubbed the latter's car with a fabric, his sleeveless vest completely gone, and wet jeans covering his delightful thighs, still hanging low enough to give Yoongi a nice view of his tiny waist.
Yoongi felt like he would go feral and jump this man any moment, without any regard for his self-respect, as he looked at the man's shiny and glistening body.
Jeongguk noticed him staring, rolling his lips to whistle and grabbing the smaller male's attention. Yoongi broke out today trance, realising now that he had been shamelessly staring at the man's pecs.
He walked closer, hiding his blushing face and looking over at his car instead. Though, at the moment, the vehicle doesn't concern him one bit.
"You were right, the tires had gone flat. It's common for small car tires to go flat in this area. I replaced them." Jeongguk remarks, not looking at him as he scrubs the windshield.
"Thanks," Yoongi hums a response of gratitude. "What about the engine though? Why wasn't it starting?"
"There's nothing wrong with it, I checked. It must have heated up too much at that time due to the impact. It starts now." Jeongguk replies, dipping the fabric into the bucket of water.
He then squeezed it in order to get rid of the excess liquid, before getting back to scrubbing, this time, the passenger seat window.
"You didn't have to clean it." Yoongi says in a small voice, though, grateful that the man did it because he wasn't going to do it anytime soon.
"It looked awful." Ouch. That hurt. Yoongi knew he hadn't cleaned his car in a while, not even finding the effort to drive into a car wash, but Jeongguk really had no business blatantly outing the lack of maintenance from his side.
Yoongi said nothing and left the man to his work, not daring to bother him and bearing the risk of getting brutally outed by him any other way.
He walked around the estate as initially intended, watching all the new plants and trees that he hasn't seen here before.
There was a tangerine tree, he could tell even though it bared no fruit; a mango tree, he could see little pods of fruit forming already, and various other fruits and vegetable plants.
All the trees and plants looked like they were well cared for. He already knew who would have done it, his heart slightly fluttering at the prospect of one young man taking care of so many things in his estate.
Soon, it was mid-day and too hot to be outside anymore, so Yoongi ran inside the house to save himself from a potential sunburn or unwanted tanning.
Once inside, he makes his way towards the kitchen, almost tripping over his feet when he saw Jeongguk, behind the stove, cooking without a top on, not even a apron covering his sweaty abs. No, Yoongi is not drooling.
Jeongguk turned towards him at the noise as Yoongi stands straight, coughing a little to ease the tension and distract the man from his ungraceful actions.
The latter wordlessly trudged towards the chair and sat on it, definitely not staring at Jeongguk's broad, muscular back.
After lunch is served, they ate in silence, nothing being there to say. Yoongi might have started a conversation but this man...he definitely does not want to talk with him. Yoongi doesn't mind, the silence being rather comfortable.
After finishing his lunch, Yoongi jumps over to wash the dishes, not giving Jeongguk a chance to protest. Jeongguk says nothing, only goes to clean the dining table they ate at.
To say Yoongi was disappointed wouldn't be exactly true, but he did feel a little upset. Then he realised that, at the age of thirty-one, he was trying to impress a man possibly younger than him, not once but twice. Like a fucking teenager.
Yoongi shamefully scrubbed the plate in his hand, blushing profusely. What is wrong with him? He came here to take his mind off of the idol life, to focus on himself, not to drool over a man he barely knows.
After doing the dishes and placing them back on their usual shelf, Yoongi looks around to find no trace of Jeongguk in sight. He sighs in relief and goes to the living room to retrieve his phone.
He thinks about starting the renovation at night since it is near impossible during the blazing hot morning. He would need some paint tubs and few more supplies.
He tries to order them through online services but, as he predicted, it's not available in the area he lives in. He would have to go to the convenience store at the main road and pray that he finds the supplies he needs.
He groans, it's too hot outside and he was too tired to drive. "What's wrong?" He jumps at sudden voice behind him, turning around to come face to face with a frowning Jeongguk. He tries not to ponder over the fact that he looks cute with the frown.
"Nothing... it's just that I wanted to make a few changes to this place but I don't have the supplies." He noticed Jeongguk's frown deepening at his words.
"What changes?" The man enquired.
"Nothing much, just repainting a few rooms and placing new shelves." Yoongi explains. "I need to go out and buy the supplies though."
"You don't need to. There's a few supplies in the basement. I'll bring it out later." Jeongguk huffs, walking out to God knows where, leaving Yoongi alone and dumbfounded in the living room.
-
Yoongi doesn't wait for Jeongguk to bring out the supplies, nor does he ask him to bring it out. It's not unusual, He has always had a tendency to not follow simple orders.
Growing up in a strict household made him more of a rebel; not following rules, going to bed late at night only to show that he's not a good boy, which may be one of the main reasons of his fucked up sleep schedule.
So, After taking a long and peaceful nap in the afternoon, catching up on some television in the evening, and having dinner at night, he walks down the basement to retrieve whatever supplies Jeongguk was talking about.
He hadn't informed Jeongguk of coming down here. Not like he's being discreet about it or trying to hide the fact that he didn't tell Jeongguk before coming down, but wholly because he doesn't want to bother the man with any more work than he already does.
Yoongi had seen it all, the man is always doing something whenever he looks at him, while Yoongi has done nothing all day but eat, sleep and watch the television. Yoongi kind of felt bad for being unproductive and not helping Jeongguk around the house.
And it's not like he has to inform Jeongguk of every move he makes, this is his house after all. He can go about wherever and whenever he wants. So when he opens the worn down door of the basement, which he needs to repair as well, he is met with the flight of stairs leading down to a dark abyss.
He turns on the flashlight on his phone and the bottom of the stairs illuminate at the light. He walks down carefully, sticking to the side of the wall, planning to place a railing on the other of the stairs later. Once he is successfully down, he swings the phone around to find any light switches. None.
He sighs, he would have to place a few bulbs and tube lights down here too. He opts to look for some paint tubs and brushes, making his way further into the darkness. The cabinets and shelves around him have either some useless debris or are completely empty.
So far, he has found nothing useful. He wonders if Jeongguk lied to him, but why would he do that? Surely there is something useful in here, maybe somewhere Yoongi doesn't know. He looks further and finds a few more cabinets and cupboards so he opened them with the hope of finding something.
What he saw inside the first cupboard he opened shook him to the knees. He stumbles backwards, falling on his butt, dropping his phone as the darkness consumes him again.
He panted, eyes blown wide and mouth open, as he picks the phone up with shaking hands, redirecting the light towards what he saw inside the cupboard.
He almost screams when he sees it again, his hand flying up to cover his mouth and muffle whatever noise escapes, be it a scream or a whimper. He crawls backwards, away from it, as much further as possible. He couldn't believe his eyes.
There, inside the cupboard, layed a corpse of—what he assumed—the previous caretaker of this house.
Her eyes were open and lifelessly stared back at him, arms twisted in the most inhumane and cruel way, mouth hanging open, devoid of a tongue, yet there was no blood. It was as though somebody, presumably the murderer, cleaned the mess and tucked the body inside to rot.
There were a few bullet wounds on her body, her dress bloody around the bullet holes.
However, it seemed like the corpse was fresh, only about a day old, though it did smell awful. Yoongi almost threw up—no he definitely did, judging by the bitter taste in his mouth. He unlocked his phone, and with trembling fingers dialed the emergency number.
Before he could press the call button, a stinging sensation fell upon the back of his head and instantly, he was met with darkness.
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