Work Text:
The train thunders past many passing sceneries, blurred city lights flashing across Taehyung’s eyes like fireflies. They could be, if one would look at them in another way, and look Taehyung did. They were the same in his eyes, both with perishable lives, easily renewed, just in different ways. Taehyung wonders which one he is, but no matter which, it would always be the same, whether if he died after a certain amount of time glowing, or he faded away when daylight came.
He’s spent the last few hours like this, watching the scenery of Daegu, with blue skies and even bluer seas, the air faintly smelling of ocean spray turn grey and cold. Blue skies turning dull, white clouds darkening as the train moves on, the sparkling sapphire blue water turns into an ocean of cold, hard cement. The air grows polluted, the smell of smoke and carbon monoxide lingering in the air. The chirping of birds and the wind are replaced with car horns, people bustling about, constructions and more, the scenery gets dotted with more buildings than trees as the train moves on.
Taehyung faintly remembers the exhilaration when he first sat on this train, on the very same route, when he saw the beauty in everything, when he rode the train with large dreams and limitless hope. He chuckles drily. Turns out that hope was perishable after all. He wonders when he started losing hope, when he started to lose himself, that bubbly, bright boy with grand dreams of becoming Peter Pan in his very own NeverLand. Instead, he wound up being a lost boy, and lost indeed he was, surviving in the dark dog-eat-dog world, struggling to live. That was his life back then, until he found his Peter Pan, his saviour, his loved, his light.
The rattling of the dinner cart snaps Taehyung out of his stupor. He wrinkles his nose in disgust at the scent of microwaved food wafting through the air, invading his senses and causing him a migraine. He refuses the food the lady offers him, giving a wavering smile to her when she offers her a bun and a cup of juice. He accepts it graciously and thanks the lady, relieved that he could actually eat something. He nibbles on the bun, a bit bland yes, but better than the shit they served on board, and sips on the watery juice.
Taehyung’s mind slips off again and he thinks about everything and nothing, anything to keep his mind off the loneliness he feels. An entire year back in Daegu didn’t really do anything to alleviate this sinking feeling that he felt. Perhaps his family did curb the disease for a little while, but now, the loneliness hurt. He wishes that his Peter Pan is here with him, but he’s sure that he hates him, seeing the way they had left things, with Taehyung crying and him storming out of the house.
Taehyung's conscience floats back, fluttering discreetly into the depths of his memories, light as the beating of butterfly's wings, and he remembers everything, crystal clear, as if he's looking through a river, a stream, a pond.
I deserved it.
Taehyung grimaces bitterly, painful memories flooding back to his mind.
“Tae. Tae. Why won’t you tell me? Tell me what’s wrong with you?”
Taehyung shivers, fingers wrapped around a white ceramic mug, tendrils of smoke curling into the air, the aroma of tea settling comfortably in his nose. The heat is scalding, yet he does nothing but curl his fingers tighter, hoping that they’d go numb.
“I-I can’t, Yoongi, I just can’t.”
Taehyung finds it impossible to look at the blonde man standing in front of him, eyes pointed downwards, observing the cheap wooden table. He can’t look at Yoongi and tell him that he’s okay as usual because he knows that Yoongi will tell right away and force it out of Taehyung. Make him admit that he’s got something screwed in the head. Make him admit that he was worthless.
“Why?”
Yoongi’s tone is desperate, soft, and it holds so much pain that Taehyung visibly flinches.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, how am I supposed to tell you?”
Taehyung’s voice is pitched slightly, his tone fearful, scared.
“We can figure it out together. It’ll be okay, everything’s gonna be alright. Tae, baby, will you tell me?”
Taehyung trembles and he’s so tempted to fall into Yoongi’s arms, to let him protect him, to release the burden, but he knows that if he does, Yoongi will discover the worthless disgusting monster he is, and leave him, just like all the others, with their promises of forever forgotten like a dandelion’s florettes, blown into the wind, vanishing forever. Taehyung doesn’t want anymore empty promises, he’s trusted one too many and they’ve all broken his heart.
Taehyung pretends to laugh mockingly.
“We? What can you do for me? Diagnose me? Lock me into an asylum? Because if you’re trying to do that, you’ve got half your work done. What good is it if I tell you? None, because you don’t and you won’t understand! You don’t know, and you never will.”What can you do for me? Diagnose me? Lock me into an asylum? Because if you’re trying to do that, you’ve got half your work done. What good is it if I tell you? None, because you don’t and you won’t understand! You don’t know, and you never will.”
Taehyung’s voice is shrill and breathless, and his voice cracks midsentence. For the first time that day, he looks at jaw,lips forming a thin line, warm brown eyes turning cold and he speaks.
“Fine. Suit yourself. If you want to wallow in your shit, then be my guest because I am done with caring for you.”
Taehyung can feel his
“I really loved you. I still do, I’m sure of that. But what I’m not sure of, is do you love me? Did you ever love me like I did you?”hat. But what I’m not sure of, is do you love me? Did you ever love me like I did you?”
Taehyung doesn’t answer. Yoongi sighs.
“I guess I have my answer now.”
He exits the house, slamming the door. Taehyung slumps to the ground, soft sobs hiccuping out of his body. They grow louder and louder, wracking Taehyung’s body. Tears flow down his cheeks, staining them wet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now reaching Seoul Station, please be patient and remain in your place until the train has stopped moving.”
The monotonous voice cuts through Taehyung’s thoughts and he looks outside to find the scenery no longer moving. He shrugs on his jacket and pulls on his scarf, a dirty dulled yellow that had once been as vibrant as the sun.
It was a gift from Yoongi, him saying that it would suit Taehyung. It did suit Taehyung and it does now, the dirty, frayed ends representing the very embodiment of Taehyung, worn and dirty, no longer of value. Yet, Taehyung kept it, as it did have sentimental value. He overhears a couple talking next to his seat, faces lit with excitement and joy. Taehyung is filled with a sense of nostalgia and smiles faintly, reminiscing the youth that he had.
He gets out of the train, picks up his baggage, exits the station and hails a taxi.
“Where to, sir?”
Taehyung lists out his hotel address to the driver and he settles back, the car smelling strongly of cloth shops. Halfway through the journey, Taehyung is controlled by an impulse and tells the driver another address. He rolls his eyes at Taehyung and his voice becomes gruffer.
When Taehyung reaches his desired destination, he gets out and thanks the driver, making sure to tip him. He takes a deep breath as he looks at the apartment complex and he walks inside, going into the elevator and presses the 14th floor.
On the 14th floor, Taehyung’s feet lead him to the door 709 and he rings the doorbell, hoping that he might still stay there. Taehyung’s prayers are answered when Min Yoongi opens the door, eyes opening a fraction, and he hastily ushers Taehyung in. His hair is a soft mint green now and it suits him so well. Taehyung fights the urge to run his hands through his hair and steps into apartment gingerly.
“Taehyung, how are you? Did you just reach Seoul? I heard from Jimin that you went to Daegu.”
Taehyung looks around the apartment and notices that there’s not much difference. The mixtapes are arranged according to the date, the books are still colour-coordinated, the plants still remain as Aloe Vera and Cacti. Taehyung’s heart twinges, and he looks at everything and he’s sofond of this place and it scares him.
Yoongi sets a cup of tea in front of him, chamomile with honey, his favourite. Taehyung’s surprised that he still remembers that, or maybe it’s what he serves to all of his guests. Which, Taehyung will never know.
“So, how are you?”
“I-I’m good. Daegu helped a lot. Auntie and Uncle are fine.”
“Mmm, that’s good to hear.”
Taehyung looks down at his tea, an awkward atmosphere filling the room.
“S-so, are you seeing anyone?”
“No, I haven’t been in a relationship ever since well… you.”
Taehyung hurts inside but he smiles.
“You really should. You’re such a great person, you’d be a wonderful boyfriend.”
Taehyung drinks his tea and Yoongi plops down beside him. Taehyung clenches his tea, and he clears his throat.
“Y-yoongi. I-I’m really sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t do anything that needed forgiving.”
Taehyung curls into himself more, feeling smaller than ever. Yoongi stares at him with a look that he can’t decipher, so he just tries to shut himself in.
I knew this was a bad idea.
“If it’s anyone, it should be me.”
Taehyung is surprised, and looks at Yoongi. Yoongi stares ahead as he continues to speak.
“I should have known better than to snap at you like that. I’m sorry. I should have been patient and more thoughtful.”
Yoongi’s sentences are short and curt, as if it’s hard for him to show his feelings.
“I-I love you.”
Yoongi whips his head towards Taehyung. He stares at him for a moment and he smiles a little.
“I know. I always did.”
“B-but I thought you said—”
Yoongi smiles sadly.
“That was my anger speaking. I’m so sorry.”
Taehyung leans over and presses a soft kiss on Yoongi’s lips.
“Don’t apologize.”
He whispers.
“C-can we start over?”
He’s determined, this time, he’ll be a better boyfriend.
“Sure.”
-----
It’s been hours and Taehyung’s revealed secrets that he’s always kept under lock and key. Yoongi doesn’t react, just lays there, stroking Taehyung’s hair, sneaking small kisses in between talking, on his hairline, his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks.
In turn, Yoongi’s told him his secrets, and they share the pain with each other, being the balm to their internal wounds, soothing each other, bodies melding into each other perfectly.
“You’re my Peter Pan, Yoongi.”
Yoongi smiles.
Taehyung has never felt more at peace, he’s now not just a lost boy. He’s a lost boy, reunited with his Peter Pan, and he hopes NeverLand always stays.