Archive of Our Own

“I love you!” The girl announces, closing her eyes and fisting her hands.

He's noticed her looking at him since the first day he's gotten his internship, always lifts her head and lets her eyes trail him from behind her thick glasses.

She's not wearing the glasses now, she's arranged her hair in a different style too, added blush to her cheeks and lined her eyes with subtle shades. Seokjin's stomach flips like his lunch is trying to make a re-appearance.  

“We talked only once,” he says. She flinches, her eyes wide and her pink-colored lips trembling. Seokjin hates makeup, hates pink and fake girls and those lies people call love declarations.

“That may be true,” she rushes to say, her whole body moving forward like that might add more heat to her words. From behind her shoulders, a guy in all black is watching the scene. Seokjin can't see him, he's too far away but he knows who he is. The skinny guy hangs around the workplace, but Seokjin has never talked to him before although sometimes, he feels the guy watching him. He’s guessing the guy wanted to walk through and got held on by this girl's urge to dump her feelings all over the place.

“And there's that one time you helped me with the boxes,” the girl says and Seokjin turns back to her. She must've been listing all of their interactions, the small things that made her realize Seokjin was the one for her. He gets it, he's good looking and a lot of women want that, he supposes he acts sweet too, add to it being a newly graduated law student with honors and paid internship. He's the perfect guy to take home and introduce to your parents.

A part of him wants to ask her to prove it, if you really love me, how much are you willing to do for me, how much will you give . Another part wants to snarl at her, tell her she doesn't know shit. Wants to take her words of love and chew them and spit them out on her but the guy there is still watching, swaying in place now. Impatient. The poor bastard really was caught in a drama.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

“I'm sorry,” Seokjin tells her, without an ounce of sincerity. “I can't return your feelings.” He hides his hands in his pockets before their shaking becomes obvious and walks away from her.

“Why?” She calls, and damn but he hates it when they are persistent. Take the no, just leave. Leave.

“Is there someone else?” Her voice is low, vibrating with that minute sadness. Someone else, like she counted herself already. Else , because she's an option.

Seokjin's nails dig into his palms and he bites his tongue.

“I have a right to know!”

He whirls on her, can feel the heat climbing up his face. “You have no right to anything. You're just a stranger with a dream boy and you're trying to turn that dream into me. I'm not.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she covers her mouth with both hands, leaning forward as her shoulders shake with sobs. Seokjin lets out a breath and walks away from her.

Love.

Like that word alone is enough.

“I love you, Seokjin. And I love your father.”

“I want a divorce!” A shout, an echo. The sounds of shattering.

“It's okay, son. It's just us now, and I love you.” Stench of alcohol, cold winters, never enough food.

“Seokjin, I'm sorry but I can't take care of you anymore. I want to move forward, get married again.”

Alone. Alone.

Love.

He scoffs.

The smell of the earth makes him scrunch his nose, it itches his nostrils, and he wonders not for the first time at the people who like the petrichor. The girl’s confession had circled his mind for the entirety of his work hours, bringing back memories he’s thought long dead. It was raining when his mother left too.

I love you.

His mother said that a lot. Didn’t stop her from leaving them. Him. 

He stands under the awning of a shop he's never noticed before, looking up at the gray sky with disdain. The pitter-patter of rain transforms into a whooshing sound, heavy and loud, broken occasionally by out of tune drops. Seokjin watches as the ground turns muddy and the rain forms puddles. People coming and going, disturbing the small pools with their boots, their myriads of umbrellas blurring in Seokjin's vision, adding to his irritation.

He adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder and considers making a dash to his house. He lives a fifteen minutes walk away; however, and there's little he hates more than getting soaked in the middle of November.

“You can take this.”

Seokjin jolts and turns around. The voice’s owner is a scrawny boy, his eyes hidden behind his dark brown bangs that escaped from under his hood. He's shorter than Seokjin, hunched over and too skinny, the edges of his jaw sharp as a knife and the hollows below his cheekbones make Seokjin think about giving him some money. Recognition clicks in his mind, it’s the boy from this morning. Seokjin is seeing him this close for the first time.

He drops his eyes to the bright yellow umbrella that the boy is offering him then back to clouds. The rain is insistent, the noise of it deafening.

He takes the umbrella from the boy and nods at him, the boy smiles and his shoulders curl further inwards like he's trying to look smaller yet.

Seokjin opens the umbrella, hesitates before he steps into the pour. “What about you?” He turns to look at the boy but he's already gone, the sound of rain must've covered his leaving the same as it did his coming.

Seokjin marches to his house. The sound of rain ringing in his ears. His shoes and the ends of his trousers get wet as he's forced to step into many puddles. He runs the rest of the way, makes it home in less than ten minutes. He pants as he unlocks the door and stumbles inside.

He closes the umbrella and sets it against the wall, and it drips and forms a pool around it. The bright, cheerful yellow of it is out of place against his almost gray, moldy wall. He strips where he stands, doesn’t want to drag water everywhere. His house may be old and creaky but he keeps it clean, and his ancient wooden floors wouldn't benefit from water. They already feel wet when he walks barefoot on them.

His bathroom is another thing that he keeps clean, nothing much to be done for the falling apart porcelain and the lines of ants creeping up along the cracks in the tiles of the wall. Two months ago, when he had just moved in, Seokjin had bought a bug bomb and vowed to exterminate them, but they proved more stubborn than he was and in the end he admitted defeat and let them be.

The shower sound mixes with the rain, the steam rises and fogs the mirror and the walls. Seokjin hurries under the water. He doesn't enjoy it, his mind nagging about the leak in the attic that he has to place a pot under. He'll be up twice during the night to see the damn thing full, empty it and place it again. Hopefully the rain won't go on the rest of the night.

He steps out of the tub and rushes to the towels, drying his skin as fast as he can then placing the towel on his head and running to his bedroom. The lights die, and he sighs. The line must've been cut by the storm. He roots for his phone and rolls his eyes when the battery dies the second he lights the screen. Piece of shit.

There are some candles in the kitchen cabinet, but he needs to dress in something before he freezes to death. He puts on the first sweater he pulls out, follows it by boxers and thick cotton sweatpants. It takes him too long feeling for the sewing on their insides, and the air chills his wet skin but he still wants to wear them right on the first trial.

Lightning flickers, illuminating his house then the darkness shrouds it again and the rain picks up, the wind wails and the windows rattle, the old wood of the house weeping and wheezing. Thunder booms and Seokjin's battered house shakes with the sound, the chill creeps from the holes and cold currents sneak from under the doors.

The electricity won't be back until the storm passes.

He lights multiple candles and scatters them in the living room, then takes one in hand, throws a towel over his bent elbow and carries a pot. The stairs moans under his steps, the splintering wood feels doughy with the humidity it absorbed from the rain. It will take him ages to warm the place again.

The damn leak is raining from three places, close enough for the same pot to catch them. Seokjin raises the candle and eyes it with a frown. The fixing up he's been delaying would force his hand soon. No matter, now isn't the time to think about it. He wipes the floor as best as he can and sets the pot under the leak, the first drop hits it with a loud pang, a little echo then another drop dings on the metal. The pot will be filled in less than three hours, Seokjin resigns himself to sleeping and hoping that he'd wake up, considering he has no alarm now that his phone is dead.

His shadow follows him in his descent down the stairs, dancing on the wall with the twisting flame of the candle. Seokjin sets it on the small coffee table he has and lies down on the couch. Lightning flashes and Seokjin jolts up.

Someone stands outside his window, staring at him through the glass. Thunder roars and the house trembles, then another flash of lightning reveals the outside view, empty streets, swaying trees, falling pour. No one is there.

When Seokjin glances to the door, the empty spot over the puddle of water makes him flinch.

The yellow umbrella is gone. 

He wakes up to the sound of dripping. The candles are shorter than they were when he laid down. He blinks and frowns, the sound is coming from inside the house. He sits up then places his feet down and he jumps and lets out a screech as his feet touch something cold and wet.

Water.

He braves through, the water on his floor is two centimeters high, splashing as he walks. The source of the disaster is the stairs, which have water cascading down them like a fucking slow waterfall. He climbs up, grimacing at the cold.

Half the roof of the attic has caved in, rain pours through the hole and Seokjin stops and stares at it, then down at the water flowing past his feet. He can't do anything about it now, can't call anyone. It's good that he owns nothing but the bed, and that is made of iron so it won't be easy to ruin. And the closet.

He runs down the stairs, water splattering and wood wheezing under his feet and he hurls curses at every step.

“Fucking shit hole, no wonder the rent is cheap. They should fucking pay me to live here. Hell.”

Then more fucks and fucks.

The lower parts of the closet are thankfully safe, as the water isn't quite that high yet, and Seokjin guesses it won't be if he opens the front door and tries to empty the living room.

Fuck.

He furiously hurries and wrenches the door open and on his depilated porch he finds a sealed box. Seokjin halts in his tracks, looks right and left but no one is there. He leans down and picks it up, curiosity momentarily pushing the issue of the flooding house and he shakes it and puts it to his ear. Something inside hits the lid with a wet sound, heavy and perhaps not solid. He frowns and examines the box, there's a lock on it that needs only to be slid to the side and he passes his thumb over it. The lid pops open and Seokjin screams, hands letting go off the box.

It falls with a clack that the rain drowns out, the content of it spilling out with a muted thump.

A heart.

A real human heart.

Seokjin grips at the door, stares wide-eyed at the piece of meat thrown over his porch, getting wet with the rain. He gulps and takes two steps looking into the box he finds a folded note.

He reaches out, takes the heart in his hand and shoves it back into the box, closes the lid. Panting, checking his sides again and looking down at it, nestled between his arms. He should bury it.

Whose is it?

He goes back inside, the box clutched in both his hands, wades through the water and almost laughs at the sound of rain getting louder. He collapses on the couch and stares at the box again. The folded note, the... the heart inside.

He opens it again, and without touching the heart he pulls the note out with his index and middle fingers, opens it near the shortening candle so he can read it.

The words sit on the paper in elegant, simple cursive and black ink.

I love you.

Seokjin shuts the box again, then runs and stashes it in one of his kitchen cabinets. The paper is evidence, if he tells the police, they'd want to see it, read it. Prints. Fingerprints yes, that's a thing. But Seokjin's still holding it, crumbling it inside his fist.

He straightens it out, follows the curves and loops of the words with his nail, memorizing the shape. He whispers the words under his breath, wonders again about the owner of the heart in the box inside his kitchen cabinet. He holds the paper by one of its corners, lowers it down to the flame of the candle and watches as the flame licks at it then swallows it whole until he has to let go and allow the rest of it to turn into ashes. The candle flickers then dies down, dimming the light in his house.

He takes the other one, too short and close to dying out too, burns his fingers with the wax as he searches for more candles. In another cabinet. Another, not that one, with the box inside it.

A bunch of candles, good. He takes them back to the living room, lights just one and fixes it with molten wax to the table. He blows the one that burnt his hand, sits in front of the dancing shadows and stares at the fire.

Twisting, wiggling.

He thinks about a heart, in a box, inside his kitchen cabinet and remembers the feel of holding it in his hand, that less than one second. Like pieces of steak, cold and elastic. Heavy. No blood.

Cold. Tender. No blood.

A human heart in an iron box inside his kitchen cabinet.

The rain lets up the next morning. He cuts the electricity from the main unit before it has a chance to get back. The house is drenched, one wrong step and he could be electrocuted.  He visits his landlord and tells him about the attic and the old man insists it was in good shape and that Seokjin should take care of all the expanses. Seokjin has been saving some money in hopes of moving to Seoul and he doesn’t want to spend it on a wretched house. No argument can pierce through the man's dumb logic: however, he's as stubborn as mule. Seokjin gives up and walks to his job.

He's distracted, the idea of calling the police floats in his mind. If he doesn't call now, and the heart is found, he will be accused and he doesn't want to be in that shit but...

I love you.

Not words alone, but accompanied with flesh. It stirs dark branches inside his chest, invites them to grow and spread, wrap around his heart, squeezing with every beat.

Heart in a box in his kitchen cabinet.

He should hide it better.

The mood in his working place is somber, a cloud hanging over everyone. People avoid his eyes as he walks in. He turns to one of his colleagues, a petite girl that he never remembers the name of. He racks his memory, this girl always greets him.

Hy...something.

“Hye-mi!” Someone calls and the girl raises her head. Her eyes land on Seokjin first and she gives him a sad smile before she turns to the girl who called her, they're chatting in hushed tones, faces contracted into unreadable expressions. Sadness, or worry, fear sometimes. 

“Are you Kim Seokjin?” A man says. Seokjin turns to find a cop glaring at him and his stomach swoops.

“Yes, sir. How can I help you?”

The cop shows him a picture of the girl that confessed to him yesterday, asks him about his relation to her. Seokjin tells him everything, the last time he saw her and even what they talked about. Not once does lying cross his mind. His heart beats frantically, jumping to his throat and choking him.

“She was last seen with you, sir.”

“Last?”

“Alive that is,” the cop finishes and Seokjin feels faint. He sways forward then stumbles a step back.

Oh god, no.

“The body was found in the town's park... ” The cop opens his mouth, and Seokjin's world slows down. He knows the next words, his eyes zeroing in on the cop's lips as they move and form them. “With her chest ripped open and the heart missing.”

Seokjin clutches at his chest.

The heart. The heart in the box inside his kitchen cabinet.

I love you.

“Oh God,” he gasps. Trembles.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Yes, I'm fine.”

That person is in danger. 

The cops ask more of his co-workers and Seokjin stays rooted in place. No way he can call the police now.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

Seokjin jumps. Hye-mi raises both hands. “I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sorry about Eun-ae. I know how much she meant to you.”

“Huh?” He says dumbly.

"Weren't you two..."

“Oh no, no.”

Hye-mi's face twists but she recovers quickly. "Oh!" She says, a bit overly excited. Seokjin frowns at her. Only girls will be happy about new gossip when someone has been killed the night before.

“Excuse me,” he says and walks past her. He collides with someone and knocks them down.

“I'm so sorry!” He says, then takes another look at the form sitting on his ass and blinking up at Seokjin.

“Oh, it's you.”

The umbrella boy is wide-eyed and dazed. Seokjin offers his hand to help and the boy gingerly places his mirroring hand on Seokjin's. Seokjin curls his hand around the boy's and glances at his long, skinny fingers. Pretty, he thinks.

He extends his other hand and when the boy takes it, he helps him to his feet. The boy is a little shorter than Seokjin, and he tilts his head up just a hair to keep their eyes locked.

“I lost your umbrella,” Seokjin breathes. “I'm sorry.”

The boy's nose scrunches into the most adorable frown and he blinks behind the dark curls of his brown hair. This close and Seokjin still can't see his eyes well, Seokjin feels the urge to sweep his hair back with his hand and take a good, long look.

Someone clears their throat and Seokjin jolts, realizing he's still holding both of the boy's hands in his and he drops them and smiles nervously. Hye-mi is the person who broke him out of his trance, and Seokjin turns to her, to say something rude but the expression on her face stops him short.

She's glaring at the umbrella boy with blatant hatred, her eyes gleaming with it, almost burning. A shiver runs down Seokjin's spine and he takes a step to the side, hiding the boy behind his shoulder.

“Yes, Hye-mi?”

The darkness in her face dissolves and she plasters a bright smile on her face as she cranes her head to look up at him. She's petite but she's not skinny like the boy and Seokjin can't explain why the thought comes to him but he pictures them fighting, sees her overpowering the boy and he should laugh at the ridiculous mental image but it fills him with a sense of dread.

“I didn't know you and Taehyung were friends,” she says.

Out of her sight, Taehyung tugs gently at the back of Seokjin's shirt, then keeps the cloth between his index and thumb. Seokjin doesn’t understand what Taehyung wants but he decides to pretend they’re friends.

“I could say the same to you, how do you guys know each other?” Seokjin says. Her left eye twitch, a minute movement of her lips like she wants to press them into a line or perhaps pout but the smile wins.

“I'm his older sister.”

Taehyung's grip on his shirt tightens, and Seokjin can feel him tremble. Out of place, the picture of the heart in the box in his kitchen cabinet comes to him and locks his knees against the urge to dash out and run back home.

“Right. If you'll excuse me,” he forces out. He turns and doesn't give Taehyung a chance to talk or stay, he drapes an arm behind Taehyung's shoulders and pulls him along. Taehyung comes easily, too easily, he's too light, he almost flies at the first push of Seokjin's arm. Hye-mi is looking at them walking away, Seokjin can feel it on his nape, the hair there standing on end and his skin breaking in goosebumps until they step into the hallway that leads to the stairs.

Seokjin doesn't ask and Taehyung doesn't speak but he doesn't protest when Seokjin skips the level he works on and goes on the stairs until they're pushing the metal door of the roof open.

He retreats the arm he had around Taehyung and watches him. Oversized clothes hiding most of his physique, hair in his face and prominent bones. Seokjin sees his own reflection years ago, when he used to get one meal a day if he was lucky and his muscles wasted if he tried to exercise. His heart clenches.

“Do you two live together?”

Taehyung nods at him.

“Do you work?”

Taehyung shakes his head. Seokjin bites his lip.

“How old are you?”

“I'll be nineteen on the 30th of December, but big sister says I'm sixteen.”

And she controls the money and probably doesn't feed him enough. Seokjin's breath comes short and hot and he locks his jaw and fists his hands. He can't afford to invite someone to lunch, he's barely started to make enough to feed himself well and save. He needs to be stable and he fucking can't meddle in this family's fucked up business. He's fucked up enough on his own, he has a heart in a box in his kitchen cabinet, and he doesn't want to get rid of it.

“Do you come here to wait for her?”

Taehyung blinks. “She locks the door when she leaves so I either stay in or out.”

“But, dad! I wanna play with―”

“That’s enough, Seokjin! The sound of the door is bothering me. Either stay in or out!” His father’s face is flushed, the whole place reeking with alcohol and Seokjin wants to say he’ll stay out but he’s scared his dad really won’t open the door for him anymore.

Either stay in or out.

Seokjin can tell these words don't belong to Taehyung himself and a wave of unfamiliar rage raises in him. Seokjin isn't a violent person, never thought about hitting someone, the harm he does, he does with words. In this moment; however, Seokjin thinks he can do it. He can grip the back of Hye-mi's hair and bash her face in, multiple times until her skull snaps and cracks, the wall colours with her blood and no one can recognize her face anymore.

“Do you want to stay with me for today? I'll only work until lunch and then we can go eat together.”

Ah, shit. And now he's done it. He waits for the regret, for the desire to take it back, but it doesn't happen. He holds his breath and finds himself hoping. Hoping .

Taehyung nods twice, small and hesitant, eyes on Seokjin the whole time. Seokjin offers him a smile then they walk together to Seokjin's cubicle.

Taehyung doesn't speak, he sits beside Seokjin on a low stool and watches him as he works, and if Seokjin wasn't aware of his gaze like a physical thing, it'd be like he's not even there. He doesn't miss a second, eyes fixed on Seokjin, intensely following every move, like he's memorizing him. Seokjin should be annoyed, but the tingling of his skin, and the picking rhythm of his heart is closer to thrill.

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung hums a question.

“Do you know my name?” Seokjin sets the papers he was going over on the desk and turns to Taehyung. Taehyung has a smile on his face, a small thing that lessens the hollows under his cheeks.

“Seokjin,” Taehyung whispers around his smile. His voice is deep and gentle. Lullaby, Seokjin thinks and he leans down, reaches out and pulls the hood down then seeing as Taehyung isn't protesting or moving to stop him, he brushes Taehyung's bangs back.

Taehyung's eyes are hazel, his lids are shaded by impossibly thick lashes and he blinks at Seokjin slowly. All colours come into sharp focus, then start dimming and moving away until it's all monochrome and Taehyung is a vivid contrast, his mouth still in that small smile, his cheekbones casting shadows over his cheeks. Seokjin fits his thumb in the hollow and feels his heart lurch. He feels drunk, the world in a haze as he looks at his thumb, sweeping over Taehyung's cheekbone, over the mole Seokjin's just now seeing.

They gravitate closer. Seokjin's forehead against Taehyung's, Taehyung's lashes fluttering as he closes his eyes and he tips his chin forward.   

“Taehyung!”

Seokjin jumps back, nearly falling out of his chair. Hye-mi has that look in her eyes directed at Taehyung, who doesn't move or turn back, hunched over himself with his shoulders curled forward and his hands in his lap.

“I'm so sorry about him!” She says, then steps closer and tugs at Taehyung's hood. “Get up, Taehyung. You shouldn't bother Seokjin-ssi, he's working!”

“I invited him,” Seokjin tells her with barely contained rage. She falters, looks nearly ill, so Seokjin presses. “We're having lunch together, I'll walk him home later, don't worry.”

Hye-mi narrows her eyes. “Aren't you too old to befriend him?” Taehyung flinches, closes his eyes. Seokjin can see his hands shaking, and he wants to bark at Hye-mi.

“He told me he's nineteen,” Seokjin says.

“Well, he's not.”

“I am,” Taehyung whispers, so low Seokjin isn't sure he didn't imagine it.

“Taehyung!” She nearly screeches. “We're leaving, now.”

Seokjin turns to look at Taehyung and his anger bursts as he catches the tear sliding down Taehyung's cheek.  He wants to make her cry, wants to hurt her. But he can't, he can only watch as she stomps off and Taehyung's folded form shuffles after her.

He calls someone for the collapsed roof. The heart is in the freezer now, and it's a good thing Seokjin remembered to move it or it would've decayed.

The handyman eyes the roof for a long while then turns to Seokjin with a frown. "Listen, buddy. It'd be cheaper if you just move out of here. This is a lot to fix, you need a construction company. "

“What?”

The man shrugs. "Well, the whole ceiling gave out, and the walls are too weak to support a new one. To be honest, I think the foundation is rotten. And look." He points to a corner where cobwebs perpetually remain, they're the same as the ants in the bathroom. Seokjin had attacked them with a broom religiously, but they returned hours later, like they were so used to living here and they'd rather rebuild their homes twice a day than fuck off and let Seokjin be.

“The insects don't leave when the house is this wet and homey. It's perfect for them. I bet you have rats too,” the man goes on. Seokjin sighs. Yes, there are rats. They wake him up some nights with squeaking and scratching at the walls, another tenant of this wretched house that Seokjin couldn't fight away.

“Can you do some cheap, temporary fix?” He says at last. 

The worker eyes the ceiling once again, hands on his hips and a deep furrow between his brows. "I can try, but don't put high hopes, it'll collapse again next storm."

Seokjin lets out a long sigh. “Well then, don't bother. I'll look for something else.” And he'll have to call his landlord, again. It's a conversation he's not looking forward to having.

Seokjin notices Taehyung more after their time in his cubicle. Like seeing him once has created some type of gravity that pulls Seokjin’s gaze towards Taehyung. They lock eyes across rooms and over people’s shoulders, share smiles from far and sometimes Seokjin waves and catches the curve of a gentle smile. 

Seokjin starts taking his lunch breaks on the roof, and more often than not, Taehyung follows him there and they share Seokjin’s lunch box. 

The door rattles and creaks before it falls open, and cutting wind rushes to greet Seokjin. December has brought with it freezing temperatures, they have no snow yet, but Seokjin suspects there will be a lot of it once the new year rolls around. Despite the cold, he steps outside and sits on the ground with his back to the wall, holding his lunch box on his lap. 

Taehyung doesn’t let him wait long. He stumbles after a few minutes, his cheeks red from the cold and his breath puffing in front of him. He grins at Seokjin, his eyes disappearing into the smile and Seokjin jerks his head to his side. Taehyung takes the cue and sits beside him. They’ve been doing this for over two weeks, so Seokjin doesn’t hesitate anymore when he reaches around Taehyung’s waist and pulls him closer.

“You need to wear heavier clothes.”

Taehyung nuzzles his shoulder and hums. “I’m hungry,” he says, voice muted in Seokjin’s coat. 

They eat in silence for a while, pressed side by side, Seokjin’s ass numb with the cold of the floor seeping through his many layers. He turns to look at Taehyung, skinny, underdressed for the weather and he brings his arm around Taehyung’s waist once more. Taehyung doesn’t move away or pause eating and Seokjin wastes a few minutes wondering would it be alright if he pulled Taehyung closer still? He tugs and Taehyung lifts his head.

“Sit on my thighs,” Seokjin says. Taehyung’s face colours red, his eyes widening. “So you won’t get cold!” Seokjin hurries to add. Taehyung giggles but he moves to comply, sits sideways over Seokjin’s lap and places the lunch box on his legs. Seokjin winds his left arm more securely around Taehyung’s back and uses his right hand to eat. Once the food is gone, Taehyung sets the empty box aside and curls closer to Seokjin’s chest, his head tucked under Seokjin’s chin. 

Seokjin’s heart thumbs in his chest, and he remembers the door closing after his mother leaving, he remembers the heart he’s keeping in his freezer and wonders if Taehyung will stay, if Taehyung will close the door on him and leave him with nothing but a frozen heart. 

“If I leave to Seoul,” Seokjin starts, Taehyung tightens his fists in the front of Seokjin’s coat. “Will you come with me?”

“I would but, if Hye-mi calls the cops on you…” Taehyung doesn’t finish but Seokjin knows the implications. Kidnapping of an underage kid. Not something he needs.

“But in two years?” Seokjin presses. And he hates the hope in his voice, he hates how much it sounds like he did when he was twelve and his mother left, when he was sixteen and his father sent him away so he can get remarried. 

“Of course,” Taehyung says. He opens his mouth, like he’s going to say something else, something more and Seokjin doesn’t want to hear it so he cups Taehyung’s cheek and kisses him.

He tastes the dreaded words on Taehyung’s tongue.

It’s raining again. Seokjin thinks about his roof, he never fixed it and now the house floods periodically with every rain. The landlord threw a fit, but it was short lived, he knew there was no hope of Seokjin fixing the damn thing, and he knew that if he kicked Seokjin out no one else would be willing to pay to live in that dump so he dropped the matter. 

The woosh of the rain doesn’t conceal the steps, and Seokjin turns before Taehyung speaks. He smiles at him and Taehyung returns it with a small, timid one.

“You can take this,” he says, offering Seokjin a bright yellow umbrella. Seokjin eyes it, then lifts a brow.

“It was you that night, you took it from my house.” It’s not a question but Taehyung nods anyway, a blush taking over his face. Seokjin laughs. “So you’re stalking me.”

The blush darkens and Taehyung nods again, ducking his head and hiding behind his hair. 

“The normal reaction would be to deny and tell me it’s my imagination, not confirming you’re a stalker with an adorable, shy expression,” Seokjin teases. 

“The normal reaction to having a stalker is scared, not amused teasing,” Taehyung shoots back, and when he looks up again he has a doubtful expression on his face. Seokjin’s eyes drift over his features, and he remembers the heart in his freezer and the note he burnt to avoid having evidence against whoever it was that sent the heart. 

“Maybe I’m not normal,” he whispers, staring into Taehyung’s eyes. Taehyung steps closer, tips his head a bit so his breath brushes over Seokjin’s chin when he speaks.

“Maybe I’m not normal, either.”

He breaks eye contact and steps back, opens the umbrella and before Taehyung can walk away he catches his wrist.

“Will you be in trouble if you have dinner with me?” Seokjin asks. The rain falls louder and Seokjin’s heart drums to match it, along with the rush of blood, Seokjin almost loses Taehyung’s answer in the noise.

“I don’t care,” Taehyung says, slides his wrist out of Seokjin’s grasp until they’re palm to palm. Seokjin let their fingers entwine and they huddle under Taehyung’s yellow umbrella, and Seokjin imagines it as a bright spot in a world awash in gray, walking toward Seokjin’s falling apart house.

The place smells of water and mold when they step in, the water has started pooling in some spots. Taehyung doesn’t care about it, he takes off his shoes by the door, takes Seokjin’s hand and guides him to the bedroom like he’s been here many times, knows the layout and where everything is.

They sit on Seokjin’s small bed, and Taehyung lets out a long sigh then crosses his arms and takes off his hoodie, leaving himself in an oversized white shirt that swallows him whole, leaving him too small. Seokjin moves closer on the bed, and they silently undress each other, taking the time to fold their clothes on the nightstand. 

Taehyung’s all bones and sharp edges, and Seokjin thinks he can play music on his prominent ribs, fit his fingers right in between and click into place. He stares at the dip over his collar bones, and the cut of his hips and he feels his heart climbing up his throat and pulsating there. Taehyung lies back on the pillow and spreads his legs, he reaches out with both hands and Seokjin is pulled by a gravity stronger than the sun’s, falls into Taehyung like he never knew how to stand on his own.

“You’re beautiful.” 

They kiss like rain, pitter-patter hearts and a wash of everything that came before, Taehyung’s gentle sighs mixing with the rain, and his heat dulling the cold until Seokjin feels nothing but the slide of their skins together. He touches gently and carefully, afraid he might break Taehyung baby-bird bones, but Taehyung wraps his legs around Seokjin’s waist and digs his nails into Seokjin’s arms, throwing his head back and asking for more. 

His warmth surrounds Seokjin and melts the remnant ice inside his marrow, and Seokjin loses himself in it, in the gentle rocking of their bodies and the cries of the bed and Taehyung’s sweet moans, and kisses like rain. 

Taehyung’s wiry arms hold him close, his legs like clasps hooked over Seokjin’s hips, and his breath hot on the shell of Seokjin’s ear.

“Hyung,” he moans, “Seokjin-hyung. I love you.”

Seokjin explodes, whites out and feels Taehyung following him, clenching down on him and embracing him tighter and Seokjin sneaks his arms around Taehyung’s waist and shoulders and plasters him to his chest, squeezing hard enough to feel Taehyung’s beating heart against his own. 

Later, when Taehyung’s soft breath ghosts in the crook of his neck, Seokjin thinks about that heart in the freezer. He should get rid of it, focus on this thing he has with Taehyung. The will to do so rises in his chest, and he almost untangles himself and goes to throw it out but the sound of a clicking door rushes from his memory, his mother’s back before she closed the door behind her.

He turns and gathers Taehyung’s sleeping body close, presses them together and squeezes his eyes shut.  

What if Taehyung leaves and Seokjin wouldn’t even have the heart anymore. His eyes sting and he holds tighter.

I love you.

He wishes he can believe it. Can just trust Taehyung’s words and be alright.

Tomorrow, he’ll get rid of the heart tomorrow.

Taehyung leaves with the sunrays, and Seokjin’s house is wet and cold and moldy again, and the heart stays in the freezer.

The winter holidays make Seokjin think silly thoughts. Things like Taehyung’s birthday and baking a cake. He bites his lip and looks out of the window. The night's sky is crowded with clouds. Seokjin is curled near his window, covering his shoulders with a blanket and sipping at a cup of hot chocolate, watching the clouds assemble like marching soldiers. It'll pour soon, if not tonight then tomorrow for sure, everything will flood and there's no pot big enough for the leak in his attic.

He’s just like this house, falling apart and bleeding and there’s no words warm enough to fit the shattered pieces together, no temporary fix that won't fail with the next storm. Taehyung tries but Seokjin’s all fear and doubt even as he’s holding him close and loving him.

He laughs, takes another gulp from his chocolate and stares at the sky again. Think of the falling roof, stop thinking about Taehyung.

A knock on his door startles him, and places his cup on the coffee table and takes his blanket with him to the door. It's colder than the weather he bothers to be presentable in, the floors biting his skin with frosty teeth is a sign that a blanket-shirt is an acceptable fashion choice.

He opens the door and Taehyung is there. His chin touching his chest and his bangs in his eyes again and he's shivering.  Seokjin doesn't think, opens his arms and the blanket and Taehyung steps into them. He's so small in Seokjin's arms, trembling like a mourning dove and just as fragile.

“Did she hurt you?” Seokjin whispers into his hair. Taehyung smells like rain, and for the first time in Seokjin's life, he inhales deep in it and likes it.

“No, she doesn't hurt me.”

Seokjin thinks of locked doors and missed meals and the hatred on her face, but he doesn’t antagonise Taehyung, he pulls him inside and closes the door. He takes them to the couch where they sit side by side, Taehyung plasters himself to Seokjin, arms around his waist and face in his neck and Seokjin covers them with the blanket again and offers Taehyung the half of his now cool chocolate.

Taehyung doesn't refuse or ask, he gulps it down, almost choking himself on it then he seems to realize what he's done and he turns to see Seokjin's reaction. Seokjin pulls him in and kisses his temple, Taehyung turns and plants a timid peck on Seokjin's neck. 

The house isn’t cold anymore, the smell of rain is just Taehyung.   

“Are you hungry?” Seokjin asks. “I could cook you something. Us, I haven't eaten yet.”

Taehyung nods against him and reluctantly moves back. Seokjin takes his hand and leads him to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and gets what he thinks he might need for a simple quick dinner. He has potatoes in the freezer, cut and ready, only needs to thaw and be fried. It'll be greasy and warm and he thinks Taehyung should get that.

“Can I help with anything?” Taehyung asks, always speaking so low. Seokjin imagines he's been scolded for it, for speaking loud or been asked to shut up many times. That desire to go to Hye-mi and sink his fingers into her flesh returns with a vengeance and given the chance, he would actually do it. The only thing stopping him is that he might be found out.

“Nuh, I got this.” He walks to the freezer and opens it, finding the potatoes instantly and he reaches out and takes the bag into his hand then his heart climbs up his throat when he sees what's under it. The box.

“Is that... ” Taehyung who's suddenly beside him says pointing at the box and Seokjin slams the freezer shut fast enough to startle Taehyung.

“Nothing, it's...” Seokjin’s panic nearly chokes him. The heart will be why Taehyung freaks out and leaves him and it’s not worth it, it’s not worth it, he’s should’ve gotten rid of―

“It's the heart,” Taehyung breathes, trembling. “You kept it.”

Seokjin blinks, frowns, glances at the freezer then at Taehyung.

“You... killed Eun-ae?” Taehyung flinches at the question and takes a step back and it makes Seokjin realize that he’s giving Taehyung the wrong idea.

“Don't panic, I'm not telling anyone but I...”

“I didn't have a choice!” Taehyung says, and he's shaking like a leaf. “Hye-mi said... she... I had no choice. I had to, I―”

Seokjin embraces him. “Shhh. Taehyung, it's okay.”

“You're not mad?”

Seokjin shakes his head no, kisses Taehyung's temple. “You did it because you love me, right?”

“Yes! Yes, I swear.” Taehyung hides his face in Seokjin's chest and clutches at his sides, he's still trembling and Seokjin coos at him and pets his hair and back.

“Then how can I be mad?” He says. In his heart he feels that now familiar thrill thrumming in painful thuds. A proof of love, a material thing to tie Taehyung to him. Seokjin grins against Taehyung's hair. “You’re the one who brought me the heart, you really won't leave me. You can't, now.”

“I won't! I won't.” He repeats it over and over, swears and vows. I won't, I won't, and then “I would do anything to keep you.” and Seokjin thinks yes .

More than words. Blood, blood to tie them together.

He cups Taehyung's face and turns his face up, smiles at him. "If you continue to love me, then I promise I will love you." And Taehyung gives him a big smile and nods. Seokjin leans in, their lips almost touching―

There's knocking on the door.

Taehyung pales. “It's Hye-mi.”

“Hide in the bedroom, don't make a sound.”

Taehyung nods and hurries to comply and Seokjin takes a long breath to compose himself before he heads to the door.

Hye-mi is there with a displeased expression on her face, her breath puffing in the night cold.

“Where is he?” She says.

“Who?”

“Oh Seokjin, playing dumb suits you.” She tries to move inside but he blocks her way and she gets angry.

“Either you move and let me get him or I'm calling the police, telling them you're assaulting my younger brother.”

“How did you fake his papers?” Seokjin asks her, placing both arms on the door frame and leaning forward.

“I work in a law firm, I didn't fake his things. Now move.” She makes another attempt to enter but Seokjin doesn't budge, lowering one of his arms so it's in her way. She nearly growls. “I'm warning you, Seokjin.”

“You erased his records and made him new ones. Impressive, must've cost you a lot of money, now pray tell.” He pauses, examining her face. She's getting angrier and angrier by the word and Seokjin grins at her. “Why the insistence on keeping him underage? What did he inherit that you want to keep?” He’s thought about it, and greed is the only plausible explanation. 

Her shoulders slump in defeat and she shakes her head in a disappointed manner. “I didn't want to do this now,” she mutters. Then she lifts her head, that look of passionate hatred flashing in her eyes and she lunges forward. Seokjin holds her around the waist but her hand flies up and she sprays something right into his nose.  The smell gets him dizzy, he stumbles back and she sprays him again and again. His head spins, stomach flipping and vision hazy. He falls like he's flying and he hears his body hitting the floor but he feels nothing.

He's queasy. His limbs are heavy and won't listen to him and his head is even heavier. He groans, the taste in his mouth nauseating like he hasn't brushed his teeth in forever and when he opens his eyes the floor seems to be rushing to meet him. It takes a few seconds for his surroundings to register.

He's sitting on a chair in the middle of his living room, his hands are tied behind the chair's back. The sound of the water clears, the dripping from the stairs behind him and the wash of rain on what remained of his roof. He trails his eyes on the floor and finds Taehyung curled in the far corner, hugging his legs to his chest and hiding his face in his knees.

“Taehyung!” He calls. Taehyung's head whips to him. His cheeks are tear-stained and he's pale. He crawls towards Seokjin and before he reaches him a loud sound of crashing echoes in the kitchen. Taehyung flinches, looks around frantically like he's coming back to his senses then he retreats to his corner. Hye-mi's heels click over the wooden floors, Seokjin cranes his neck back to look at her. She's carrying the heart Taehyung gave him in her hand, a mock sad look on her face.

“This is why he needs to stay sixteen," she says and she slams the heart down near Seokjin's feet. "Because he's disturbed, because I have to protect him, and he can't stay on his own!”

Seokjin glances back at Taehyung, who’s rocking back and forth and shaking his head vehemently and something becomes clearer in his mind. “It's you. You made him kill Eun-ae, and bring the heart.”

Taehyung explodes from the corner. “No, no it's all me. Seokjin, it's me. I swear, it's me!” He’s terrified, white as a sheet, and his whole body is trembling. Seokjin looks at Hye-mi and gets it. She's manipulated Taehyung so completely, to the point where he'll say and do whatever she asks from him or...

I had no choice.

Oh.

It's Seokjin. 

She has been using Seokjin, threatening Taehyung to kill Seokjin if he doesn’t do what she says and now he’s tied up and will be set free for the cost of Taehyung's compliance. 

Hye-mi sighs. “You figured it all out, haven't you?” Seokjin glares at her. She nods and smiles. “You did. I thought you’d freak out and call the police but you didn’t. Not only that but you kept the damn thing like it’s an actual gift.” She tuts, shakes her head. “You’re as fucked up as him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Seokjin barks at her.

She blinks, taken aback and then she laughs.

“Well, that's a shame, I really hoped that you'd take my side and we'd just send this criminal to prison. He's underage so that's less jail time and more on therapy, which I figure he's going to need anyway... ” She trails off. "And now we can't do that." She takes the heart and walks to the kitchen again and Seokjin's heart drums, his body trembling and he knows what she's going to do. She's getting rid of the heart and then she’s going to kill them.

“Taehyung, Taehyung you have to run. Run and then call for help, go!”

Taehyung lifts his eyes to Seokjin. “But you'd be dead by then and it won't matter.”

“But you won't be,” Seokjin says fervently, and he doesn’t know where that protectiveness came from. Seokjin is a selfish person, he’s used to putting himself first. But Taehyung.

I love you.

Taehyung backed that up with actions, and Seokjin...

Seokjin believes him. God, but he does and he can’t lose that.

I love you.

“You'll survive and get rid of her! Come on! Get out of here! You don't have to call anyone, just run!”

“She'll kill me too,” Taehyung mutters. “And then she'll hurt herself and says the killer is dad. It's been her plan since she reported him missing. Just added you to it.”

Seokjin's blood turns to ice in his veins. “Where is your father?”

Taehyung locks his eyes with Seokjin's. “In the garden.”

“In the...” Seokjin's voice becomes thin. “Buried? She killed him?” He’s guessed Taehyung’s parents are dead, which is why he never asked but he didn’t think Hye-mi had actually gone that far. He turns just as she walks into the living room again, his big knife in one hand and a smartphone in the other. Seokjin realizes what she did. She called the police herself, and she'll get away with it just like Taehyung said. He looks at Taehyung, hunched over in the corner and defeated and a flare of defiance lights up in his chest.

"Taehyung! Kill her!"

Taehyung flinches and Hye-mi's laugh shrills in the house. The rain has picked up outside and Seokjin only now notices that water is sliding down the stairs, his feet are already in it.

“He won't kill me, Seokjin.” She raises the knife and Seokjin closes his eyes and screams:

“Don’t let her kill me!”

A loud shout, a wet splash and a thud. Seokjin opens his eyes and trembles in terror as he sees Taehyung straddling Hye-mi, trying to take the knife from her hand as she tries to stab at him.

“Stop this at once, Taehyung!”  She orders firmly. Seokjin struggles against his bonds frantically, the ropes burning his wrists and ankles.

“Careful!” He calls, heart in his throat. Taehyung pries the knife out of her hand and throws it away from them. It plops into a puddle of water, the sound too muted in the rain and Hye-mi's shrieks. She struggles again and Seokjin hears far away sirens.

She twists and tries to scratch at Taehyung and Taehyung's eyes flash. He grips her hair from both sides, lifts her head and slams it against the floor. Bam and splash, bam and splash, bam. The blood mixing with the water. Taehyung crawls away from her, stares at Seokjin with wild eyes then scrambles up and climbs into Seokjin's lap.

“They'll take me now,” he says, petting at Seokjin hair and kissing his cheeks. “But you'll be alright.”

“Taehyung, listen to me. You're going to be fine.” The sound of the sirens gets closer, a chilling scream that announces the beginning of what might be the worst thing to ever happen to Seokjin. “Taehyung,” he whispers. Taehyung's crying. He cups Seokjin's face and kisses him, deep and hurried. Seokjin breaks it and commands in a firm voice. “Listen!”

Taehyung flinches.

“Shhh, I'm sorry. I just want you to focus, we'll save you. Just get off me and pretend to be unconscious. When they arrive, let's stick with the story and say it's your father. Just describe him to me.”

“Pretend to be unconscious? But they'd know I'm lying...” Taehyung looks dazed but he stands up, not only sirens but the cars parking could be heard now. Taehyung runs to the stairs and Seokjin can't see him now even if he cranes his neck back. 

“He looks like me but with gray hair at his temples,” Taehyung says then Seokjin hears a heart-stopping bang and Taehyung's body hitting the floor, splattering the water.

Seokjin screams.

The door is knocked down and armed men pour into the room. Seokjin cries out and tries to turn himself in the chair. “Taehyung! Taehyung!”

The officers scatter around, one rushes to Hye-mi and the other runs to Seokjin to help him out of the ropes and someone has walked past him to Taehyung.

“Is he alive? Is he okay?” Seokjin doesn't realize what he's saying anymore, his voice is hoarse and his vision is blurry.

“He's alive, just unconscious. His head was hit against the railing.”

“Help him, help him! Please, help him, please,” Seokjin babbles. He's finally free and he pushes through the concerned cops to Taehyung. They're afraid to move him in case something is more serious but Seokjin screams at them. “He's going to freeze!” And pulls him off of the wet floor and into his arms. An officer helps him carry Taehyung to the couch, and they wrap him up in blankets as they wait for the ambulance, Taehyung's head is bleeding profusely and Seokjin is losing his mind.

Seokjin isn't aware of what happens, he only holds a towel against Taehyung's head and prays for the help to arrive soon and when the paramedics enter his house what feels like a million years later, Seokjin shouts and fights his way into the ambulance car.

The drive to the hospital is a haze, Seokjin only remembers one of the paramedics telling him that it's not serious, the worst that may happen is a mild concussion. Taehyung doesn't open his eyes until they're in the emergency room where they seat him in a wheelchair and push him out of Seokjin's sight to give him stitches. Seokjin's panic abates and he uses the time to compose himself.

A cop makes his way to the emergency room and sits dutifully beside Seokjin as a nurse cleans and bandages the frayed skin of his wrists.  

“I'm sorry to bother you, sir,” the cop says and Seokjin lifts his eyes to look at him. It's the same officer who followed Eun-ae's case. Seokjin tells him the revised story of the assault.

“Taehyung and I were having dinner,” he starts. “Well, cooking. We were in the kitchen when we heard knocking on the door. It was Hye-mi,” at the name Seokjin's voice breaks. It's only half an act, the shock from almost dying, almost losing Taehyung makes him tremble and the officer, mistaking that for sadness over Hye-mi, places his hand on Seokjin's shoulder. Seokjin swallows and goes on. “She was scared, I didn't get what she was saying. Her father... he was a bad man, I don't know if he's disturbed or just an asshole but she was freaked, said he might kill Taehyung if he found him in my house.” When he says Taehyung's name his trembling turns to tears. “His father didn't approve of us.”

“Oh.” Is all the cop says.

“Hye-mi sprayed me with something, I think she thought taking Taehyung might help. When I woke up I was tied to the chair you found me on. Hye-mi and Taehyung were fighting with their father. He had a knife, I'm not sure, I think Taehyung snatched it away from him and threw it aside? But the man was mad. He... he bashed Hye-mi's head in.” It's easy to let the tears flow, he's lying through his teeth but he was scared, thinking she might get up and get Taehyung. “Then we heard the sirens, I'm not sure who called the police.”

“It's Hye-mi,” the officer says. “She said that her father has gone mad and she rattled the address.” The officer lets out a long sigh, perhaps feeling bad for the girl who called the police but still didn't survive.

“He got scared when he heard the sirens, and Taehyung tried to stop him from escaping but...”  Seokjin cries. “I thought he's dead. I heard his head bang against the wood and I thought he died.” The fear is real, he shakes with it, covers his face with both hands.

“I thought he died.”

The officer pats his shoulder again. “Thank you, sir.” He doesn't ask more, not about how the father looks or any other details. The nurse calls Seokjin to see Taehyung and he rushes in.

“Taehyung!” He runs to him and hugs him close, squeezing him against his chest. Taehyung's head is wrapped in white bandages, his hair pushed back, and he looks almost as pale as the sheets. “You idiot,” Seokjin admonishes gently. “You scared the shit out of me.” He sighs and closes his eyes, plants a long, firm kiss on the bandage covering Taehyung’s forehead. 

“I wanted the setting to be more believable,” Taehyung whispers against his collar bone. Seokjin nods, turns and kisses Taehyung's temple. He suspects the officer will come to take Taehyung's statement so he hurries to tell him what he said to the cop, and Taehyung listens attentively. When the officer does come, Taehyung matches Seokjin's parts and fills in the blanks in his story seamlessly and when the officer apologizes to them and smiles, promising to leave them be now, Seokjin breathes easier.

They sold it.

“They're going to search your house,” Seokjin says.

Taehyung shrugs and moves in his bed, patting his side twice. Seokjin smiles and climbs next to him. Instantly, Taehyung wraps his arms around Seokjin's waist and noses at his neck and Seokjin chuckles.

“They won't find anything. He's been buried for years, the grass grew over him, I'm sure they won't dig in the ground for someone they think is alive.”

Seokjin nods at the logic. 

They stay silent for a while, Seokjin thinks about the house. Hye-mi murdered her father, and kept Taehyung under her guardianship so she could keep the house, and she was definitely planning to take Taehyung's share permanently. Pin Eun-ae's murder on him and write him off as crazy.   

“We should do something about the house,” Seokjin says. Taehyung cuddles closer and hums disinterestedly. Seokjin shakes him until he lifts his head and looks at Seokjin. He's blinking slowly, and his bottom lip is protruded. Seokjin leans in and smacks a quick kiss on it, then watches in fascination as a blush colours Taehyung's face and neck. Taehyung makes a little adorable sound in the back of his throat and hides in Seokjin's shoulder again.

Seokjin can't help the warmth spreading through his chest, chasing away the black vines around his heart. He nuzzles his nose into Taehyung's hair, the smell of the house still stuck there, mixed with blood and disinfectant, but under it all, it’s just Taehyung.

“I can't get the house now, not with the age issue as it is,” Taehyung mumbles.

“So that's where we'll start,” Seokjin says with a grin. “This will be my first official case, and I know exactly how to win it.”

They spend a lot of time hashing it out.  Taehyung insists Seokjin move in with him into the house and Seokjin accepts without a fuss. They agree that both of them don't want to stay in the town when Taehyung gets the house officially, and whatever there is in Hye-mi's bank account, which Seokjin suspects is a good amount considering her pay and her stingy nature.

Taehyung's case proves to be more trouble than either of them anticipate. They have the officers and Taehyung's supposed violent father to support their claims, but damn Hye-mi the bleeding bitch has covered her tracks well. It takes three months and all of Seokjin's savings before they win the case in the court. After that, it's easy. Taehyung gets the house, and as Seokjin expected, a good amount of money from his dead sister.

The house is big, but its location in the small town limits the price they can put on it and it takes them another four months before they manage to sell it. Using the money and what Hye-mi left, they're able to buy a small apartment in Seoul. Seokjin wants to put it under Taehyung's name, but Taehyung fights him tooth and nail, reminding Seokjin that he wouldn't have gotten anything if Seokjin didn't pick up his case and use his own savings to work it, so they write their names on the contract side by side.

That same year, Seokjin starts them a joint account.

He stops thinking about the heart that Hye-mi got rid of, he has a lot of real things to tie them together now. The house, the bank account, the bed, the smiles, the warm meals for dinner.

Pieces clicking and falling into place.

A few months into their living in Seoul, Seokjin works an impossible case and wins. His reputation skyrockets and he gets many offers from different law firms wanting him to work for them. His original firm’s CEO gives up when he can't match one of the insane offers and Seokjin gets his own office and a line of more hard as fuck cases. The pay is good, and he discovers early into it that his strongest point is his lack of morals.

He's vaguely guilty about it until Taehyung tells him that he wants to take a high school graduation exam and finish college and Seokjin finds that he can actually pay for it. The guilt disappears after that.

Taehyung has taken a part time job in an animal shelter as soon as they moved, and working with the animals has convinced him that he wants to be a vet.

He quits to focus on studying and Seokjin does everything he can to support him.

Taehyung once motivated, Seokjin discovers, is an unstoppable force of nature, he scores high enough and lands a partial scholarship, and with his big eyes and smile he asks Seokjin if they can use the money they were saving for his study to raise a dog.

Two weeks later, Seokjin gets them a small Pomeranian the size of Taehyung's palm. Upon seeing the little thing, Taehyung cries out and runs to Seokjin, throws his arms around Seokjin's neck and kisses him until they're both dizzy.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He says, his grin big and bright. Taehyung's cheeks are full now, and Seokjin can't see the knobs along his spine when they make love. He's glowing and healthy and it makes Seokjin so happy and smug that he can be a part of this. He frames Taehyung's face and pulls him into a long kiss that makes him feel drunk. Then he runs to play with the little puppy.

There's something about the way Taehyung's face lights up, about how he always, always leaves whatever he's doing and runs to hug Seokjin at the door, like he's genuinely missed him. Whether it's two hours, a full day at work or a ten minute convenient store run, Taehyung greets him with a crushing embrace and a deep kiss that makes Seokjin's toes curl.

It's something he hasn't witnessed before, not even when he thought his parents were the example of love. What Taehyung did for him, what he does and what his eyes promise he would do makes that rooted doubt buried deep in Seokjin's soul dissolve in warm bursts of love, and faith. Faith that he could give all of himself to Taehyung and get all of Taehyung in return and for the first time in his life, Seokjin is truly a believer.

Taehyung is playing the puppy, babbling name suggestions and that warm light in Seokjin's chest banishes the dark forever and Seokjin smiles.

“Taehyung-ah,” he calls and Taehyung, sitting on the floor crossed legs with their puppy on his lap, turns to him with wide eyes and a smile. “Hyung loves you a lot.”

He says the words for the first time since he was twelve, and the best part is: He means them. 

-End.