Chapter Text
In Jungkook’s memory, Butterfly Street had three major landmarks: their family bakery, Mr. Jung’s convenience store, and Min house.
The last time he’d been home, a low-rise line of shops were being built over where Mr. Jung’s convenience store and the Min house used to be. That had been it.
“Fuck you, GPS, you useless hack,” Jungkook mutters, taking his foot off the gas as he picks up his phone, which keeps telling him to turn left after the hotel to get to Butterfly Street. “Fucking-”
Jungkook narrowly misses another car, swerving to the side of the road just as the car zips by, slamming on their horn. “FUCK YOU!”
Jungkook picks up his phone again. ‘Make a U-turn in 100 meters.’
“Fuck you I know where my fucking house is.” Jungkook says, switching his GPS off.
Ten minutes later, Jungkook gives up and turns after the hotel, onto a narrow street crowded in by tall buildings on either side. Across the gaudy gold hotel is a silver shopping center, and then a blue office building, then a white apartment building with a shiny convenience store on the first floor. Jungkook slows down as a low, two-story house comes into view, sitting quietly in the shadow of all the buildings around it.
A sign over the first floor reads, in flickering lights, Jeon Family Bakery.
The sign flickers for a moment more, before going out completely.
_
Yoongi cranes his neck, trying to look up the buildings on either side of the street from inside his taxi. There’s this disgusting three-star hotel covered in gold-tinted glass coming up ahead, and Yoongi prays to every god that his new apartment is nowhere near that fucking eyesore.
Yoongi curses under his breath as the taxi pulls into a turn after the gold hotel.
The taxi rolls to a stop in the middle of the street.
“You need help with your things?” The taxi driver asks, turning around to look at Yoongi and the stacks of boxes squished into the backseat around him.
Yoongi’s not about to get forced into giving a tip, so he says, “No thanks, I’m good.”
The taxi driver leaves him standing at the side of the road surrounded by boxes full of his things.
Yoongi starts pushing his thing towards the door in a pile, texting his new roommate, Hi I’m here can you just help me with some stuff thanks.
A noisy sports car climbs up the street behind him, whipping the back of Yoongi’s hair up.
_
Jungkook steps into their house, which just seems to get smaller and smaller every time he comes back to it.
“I can change the sheets to your room,” His mother says, rushing over to a cabinet full of beddings. “Just give me a minute.”
“It’s okay, Mom, I’m not staying the night.”
Her expression drops. “Oh.”
“Where’s hyung? He said it was an emergency.” Jungkook says, starting to fiddle with the bottom of his jacket.
“Emergency? What emergency?”
“I don’t know.” Jungkook studies her face closely. She really doesn’t know, which could only mean one thing. “Where is he?”
“He’s closing up the bakery downstairs. He’ll be here in a few min-”
“I’ll go to him.”
Jungkook pushes the door to the bakery open. “Hyung! What kind of drama crap have you dragged me all the way over here for?”
Jin wipes his hands off on his apron as he frowns at Jungkook. “You got here fast.”
“I drove fast,” Jungkook says, fiddling with the edge of his jacket. “Because I have stuff to get back to.”
“Oh, sorry.” Jin unties his apron slowly. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Just admit you called me here for something stupid, then I’ll go, okay? I don’t have time for theatrics.”
“Jungkook.” Jin leans on the counter with a sigh. “Someone’s offering to buy the bakery.”
Jungkook drops his jacket. “What? The whole business? Why?”
“No, they just want the lot. They’re going to tear the place down, probably.” Jin says slowly, and quietly.
“Don’t.” Jungkook says. “Don’t sell it.”
Jin picks up a rag to mop the counter absently. “We’re losing money, Jungkook. It’d be better just to give it up. I can find a job somewhere else, and I’ll bring Mom with me so you don’t have to worry-”
“Dad nearly went broke opening this place, you can’t just sell it.”
“I think,” Jin says, sweeping crumbs off the counter in a long arc. “That Dad would’ve wanted us to live out of debt than hang onto this-”
“Don’t sell it.”
“Jungkook-”
Jungkook picks his jacket up. “I’m going to win the tournament and pay for all the shit you owe-”
“That’s your money, Jungkook, you shouldn’t-”
Jungkook takes his brother by the shoulders, tilting his chin down to glare at him. “It’s my money, I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with it. Don’t sell anything.”
“Jungkook, please-”
Jungkook slips into his jacket. “I’m going now.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?” Jin asks.
“I have to get back to training.”
“At least say bye to Mom.”
“I will.” Jungkook slams the door to the bakery behind him.
_
“This room’s yours.” Yoongi’s new roommate says, using his foot to push a narrow white door open to reveal a room the size of a closet. There’s a smaller-than-single bed crammed to one side, and a little window that looks like it’s jammed half-open.
“Oh.” Yoongi says, shoving his pile of boxes into the room. He steps in, and it’s so narrow that he, a man with the proportions of a 15-year-old boy, can touch the opposite walls with the tips of his fingers when he stretches out his arms. “Where-”
“The bathroom’s to your left, right beside the kitchen.” His roommate gestures vaguely to another part of the apartment. He leans on the doorframe. “I’ve got to go to work soon. Do you need anything else?”
Yoongi frowns as he checks his phone. It’s nearly ten in the evening.
“I work a night shift.” His roommate shrugs. “So, yeah, if you’re in here during the day, try to keep it down, ‘cause I’ll be sleeping.”
“Okay.”
“And, uh, basic decency, don’t bring anyone home. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi looks down at the tiny bed, which looks like it’s held up by wire and faith. “I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening here, Jimin.”
“My last roommate got pretty creative.” Jimin shrugs again as he turns to leave. “I’ve got to go. See you in the morning, Yoongi.”
“See you.” Yoongi closes the door behind Jimin and flops onto the bed, which creaks and sags under him.
He’s thinking about where, under this building, his house used to be, and whether he’s directly above it. In his mind he’s lying where the pocket garden used to be, and Jimin’s room is where their kitchen used to be.
Yoongi sighs. He’s not sure what possessed him to move back to Butterfly Street, but whatever it is, he’s pissed at it.
Yoongi turns onto his side and takes a deep breath, taking the slightly smoky air from outside, and this strange smell from the bedsheets.
Yoongi flies off the bed, plastering himself against the opposite wall. He bends over and starts tearing off the sheets, not wanting to know just how creative Jimin’s last roommate had gotten on them.
_
Jungkook starts his car, but he doesn’t leave. He sits there and looks up at the lights from that godawful gold hotel for a good five minutes, leaving his engine to whirr impatiently.
He’d been lying. He hadn’t been in any hurry – The truth was he was on his day off from training, but he didn’t want to stay in the house for any longer than he needed to.
Jungkook flicks the engine off and sighs.
He climbs out of his car and crosses the street.
A bell chimes as Jungkook pushes open the door to the convenience store, making the tired-looking old man at the counter look up at him for a second before going back to his magazine.
Jungkook’s busy trying to pile up as much soft serve as he can on one cone when someone knocks into him, sending the entire thing smashing against the metal soft serve machine.
“Shit. Sorry.” The person says dismissively.
Jungkook whirls around, ready to fight, then frowns.
“Yoongi-hyung?”
Yoongi blinks at him, carrying an armful of cleaning supplies.
“Do you need help?” Jungkook wipes his ice-cream covered hands on his jeans and reaches out to take some of the things Yoongi’s holding, but Yoongi flinches away, dropping a can of air freshener on the floor. The guy manning the counter looks up, sees the soft serve machine, and starts cursing at Jungkook and Yoongi, who are too busy staring at each other to mind him.
“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asks, bending over to pick up the air freshener.
“I live here now.” Yoongi says, trying to grab the can from Jungkook. “Again.”
“Since when?” Jungkook asks, taking half of what Yoongi’s carrying out of his arms.
“Since today.” Yoongi tries to grab them back, but ends up dropping a pack of wet wipes onto the floor.
Jungkook scoops it up with his foot and adds it to his pile. He lowers everything onto the counter in front of the livid convenience store cashier. He turns back to Yoongi, taking the pile out of his arms and placing them on the counter as well. “Is this all you’re getting?”
Yoongi frowns. “Yeah.”
Jungkook pulls out his phone and pays for everything, promising the cashier he’ll mop up the mess at the soft serve machine himself, but this all flies over Yoongi’s head. Yoongi’s not entirely sure what’s happening, and more importantly, if he’s into it or not.
Yoongi stands by as Jungkook starts wiping up the soft serve machine with a rag from the cashier. “I’ll pay you back for all this stuff.”
“It’s fine, you don’t need to.” Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, getting streaks of soft serve into it. Yoongi cringes.
He pulls a tissue out of his bag of cleaning supplies and tiptoes to wipe the ice cream out.
Jungkook looks at him with one eyebrow lifted. “What are you doing?”
“You got… ice cream… in your hair.” Yoongi steps back an entire meter, nearly knocking into the refrigerated milk shelf.
“Okay.” Jungkook turns back to the machine, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“I, uh, I’m gonna go now.” Yoongi says, taking a few steps more away from Jungkook.
“I thought you were gonna pay me back?” Jungkook asks.
“I’ll pay you back some other time.”
Jungkook hears the bell chime as Yoongi dashes out of the convenience store.
“He’s never gonna pay you back.” The cashier hums, flipping through his magazine.
“We’ll see.”
_
Yoongi uses his free hand to swipe the sweat off his forehead.
He leans against the back of the door, panting. He’s so out of shape that he’s worked up a sweat disinfecting this goddamn bed.
Yoongi slides down the door to sit on the floor, his hands resting on his knees. He rips off his rubber gloves and sighs.
He needs a shower now, but he’s too tired to go and take a shower. Yoongi shuts his eyes.
_
2007
Yoongi feels something warm lift him off the floor, and lay him gently onto the bed.
Yoongi opens one eye to find Jungkook carefully arranging a pillow under his head. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Jungkook jumps. “I, uh, you fell asleep on the floor. I was just-”
Yoongi flicks Jungkook’s hands away and sits up. “Where were we?”
“You were saying something about spin direction… and then you said other things.”
Yoongi chokes on his own spit. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, you were mumbling, I couldn’t understand you.” Jungkook shrugs.
Yoongi sighs, dropping himself back against the bed.
“If you’re sleepy, you should go home.”
“No, I’m being paid to do this, I have to…” Yoongi pulls himself up off Jungkook’s ridiculously soft sheets. He gives up and flops back down, nuzzling into the comforter. “Your bed is so nice.”
“Just take a nap first, hyung. You stayed late at work yesterday, right?”
“Yeah, but-” Yoongi’s cut off by Jungkook laying a small wool blanket over him. Yoongi narrows his eyes. “How do you know?”
“I, uh,” Jungkook flushes and turns back to his homework. “I saw you out my window.”
“Not creepy at all, Jungkook.”
_
2018
Yoongi opens his eyes. His alarm is going off from somewhere in the room. Yoongi drags himself up, blinking in the faint sunlight coming in through the window. He feels like he’s seventy years old, with his joints creaking and his bones aching, as he rummages around his un-unpacked boxes for some clothes to wear to work.
He stops by the window, getting distracted for a full five minutes watching Jin lift the rolling grilles in front of the bakery.
Jin’s sweeping the sidewalk in front of the bakery when Yoongi comes out of his building. Yoongi considers going over to say hi – What was the point of returning to your childhood home if you weren’t going to make awkward small talk with your childhood friends? – but something in him tells him to turn around and rush to get to work.
“Yoongi!”
Yoongi stops in his tracks. Goddamn it.
He gets pulled into a very tight hug before he can make a break for it. Jin squeezes Yoongi and spins him around. “Yoooongi!”
“Hi.” Yoongi says, trying to get his feet back on the ground.
“What are you doing here?” Jin asks brightly.
Yoongi frowns at him. “Didn’t Jungkook tell you?”
“Jungkook?” Jin mirrors the frown back at Yoongi. “When did you-”
“I, uh, ran into him last night.” Yoongi says.
“Oh.” Jin smiles. “Lucky you caught him, he’s almost never here. So, what’re you doing here? Are you staying at the hotel?”
“Hell no.” Yoongi makes a face in the direction of the giant gold building beaming the morning sun down at them. “I live in an apartment over there now.”
“Really? Why haven’t I seen you?” Jin asks.
“I just moved in last night.”
“Oh, cool, cool.” Jin notices someone looking into the window of the bakery. “I’ve got to go, Yoongi. Come have dinner at our place sometime to catch up? Mom would love to see you.”
Yoongi smiles at him. Jungkook doesn’t live there anymore, so it’s all good. “Sure.”
“Hi, can I help you?” Jin asks, jogging up to the man standing outside the bakery with his hands clasped behind his back. Loads of guys in suits pass by the front of the bakery on their way to work, but they hardly ever stop for a look.
“Hi, Jin.” The man turns around with a warm smile.
Jin gasps, trips over the front step of the bakery and slams into the door.
“Are you okay?”
Jin peels himself off the glass, his face flushed. “Y- Yeah, thanks, Hoseok.”
Hoseok smiles at him, helping him onto his feet. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. I guess.” Jin backs away quickly, brushing his hands off on his apron. “You?”
“Okay, I guess.” Hoseok shrugs. “Are you really busy right now?”
Jin looks around the empty bakery. “Uh, no, not really. Why?”
“Can we talk?”