Archive of Our Own

‘Okay, you need to hurry the fuck up.’

Hoseok chuckles, his lip tucked in-between his teeth. His eyes are laser-focused on the wires in his hands, trying to get them to connect in a way that will cause the much-desired spark he’s been trying to produce for the last twenty minutes. Yoongi wants to focus on Hoseok’s work because it’s pretty fascinating even if he doesn’t fully understand it, but he also wants the get the fuck out of here because he knows that security patrol the car park around this time. He comes here often to sell product, so he knows they need to leave very soon. But by Hoseok’s reaction, it doesn’t look like he cares nearly as much as Yoongi does, which means Yoongi has to care for the two of them.

Yoongi looks around the discernible space again, his eyes bouncing from wall to wall trying to make out any moving shadows. He can’t see anything, but he’s unsure if it’s because no one is there or if he just can’t see well – the orange streetlamps are dim and everything looks like one bottomless pit of black. He’s holding a flashlight for Hoseok so he can see what he’s doing, and he knows that the light, and the sounds they’re making in the midst of the otherwise contained silence, will give them away – that, and the car being in flames, if they get to that point. Yoongi is very uncertain Hoseok will be able to get the flames going before they most definitely need to leave.

This is all Hoseok’s idea, that’s the thing. He came here with Yoongi once for no good reason, as per usual, he saw the car and it struck his interest for some reason Yoongi can’t understand and Hoseok wouldn’t be able to properly verbalise anyway. Yoongi did tell Hoseok he was fairly certain the red Toyota has been abandoned for some time, because it’s always there and it’s never parked any other way, so maybe it was his own mistake for saying that to someone with a death wish and very little awareness of danger.

Even if Yoongi is right, and the car has been abandoned, it’s not the property damage – no, destruction - that they have to be concerned about – it’s them being caught in the act. Yoongi getting bust for being an accomplice to petty arson is probably the stupidest way he could get himself in prison. This is very reckless and very stupid – illegal endeavours that don’t make them money are stupid.

But Hoseok really wanted to do it, asked Yoongi about three separate times if they could come late at night and give it a try. So, they’re doing it.

It’s late enough for no one to be around, except for the guards nosing about. At the beginning, it was an okay plan, Yoongi thinks, because Hoseok said he only needed ten minutes to get it done, but now it’s not such a good plan. It never was a good plan, really, but Yoongi- he really should have more sense than this. He’s meant to be the one who does things right, he knows how to take care of himself, how to not get in senseless trouble, but then Hoseok comes along, came along and he just- he really-

‘Hold the light still,’ Hoseok whispers. Even his voice sounds focused, like it’s being spoken through a tube. He finally gets the wires to connect the right way and it creates a miniature spark, but not enough to start a fire. Yoongi hears a dull scuffing in the distance, and he grows more impatient. He can’t see any moving shadows, and it really sounds like it might be coming from outside, but still-

‘You need to finish this.’

‘I’m not going to get it done any faster with you pressuring me,’ Hoseok counters, and Yoongi sighs. Sure, that might be true, but Yoongi also doesn’t like when Hoseok gets tired and petulant during parties and wants to leave before Yoongi has hit his minimum quota for the night so in a way, him nagging Yoongi then excuses Yoongi nagging him now. At least during parties, security or cops aren’t around the corner – or they haven’t been, so far. And Hoseok gets free booze. Yoongi is not getting much now besides a hand cramp.

The echo of a loud clank almost makes Yoongi jump. He whips his head around and sees a moving shadow. It’s definitely a moving shadow. The sound of footsteps is far, but it is approaching.

‘Okay, we need to go. Now,’ Yoongi grits quietly, his jaw clenched. He switches off the light, pocketing it quickly in his jeans before grabbing Hoseok’s arm. He doesn’t mean to be brutish with his movements, but he knows he gripped Hoseok’s bicep too tight as he forces him to stand up, the younger yelping.

‘Shit, you need to-’

‘There’s no time-’

‘Just wait-’

‘Seok, there are no cars to light up on fire in jail, you do know that, right?’ Yoongi says, and maybe it’s too loud and it will only get the security guard to approach them faster but Yoongi does not care. His heart rattles in his ribcage like an old motorbike, and he can feel the adrenaline begin to pump in his blood as the urge to run takes over his senses. They need to go, and Hoseok is still standing there in his oversized hoodie and jeans like a massive, immovable obstacle, because Yoongi also can’t go without him. He can’t leave him behind.

‘Come on,’ Yoongi repeats, and just as Yoongi grabs Hoseok’s wrist to force him to come with him, a massive spark lights up the black carpark. It’s a massive ball of light, electricity, and Hoseok flinches back as the light travels down the cables and reaches the car, an ominous set of flames beginning to eat away at the polyester seating.

Hoseok grabs Yoongi’s wrist with twice the strength Yoongi was yanking Hoseok’s, and he runs. Yoongi follows him happily, because yes, they’re meant to be running! They should’ve already left! The clatter of clanking boots is now fast approaching, and they hear a man with a gruff voice shout, ‘Hey! You two, come back here!’

Yoongi’s heart pounds in his ears as they turn the corner of the carpark, disappearing into the dark corridor which leads out to the exit. Hoseok is just in front of him, and he hears the younger let out a little giggle of happiness. Yoongi shakes his head, and breathes out, ‘You’re so fucked.’

‘Says you,’ Hoseok laughs out, his voice strained from the physical exertion. He’s in better shape than Yoongi, which is probably a good thing – he would hate to outrun Hoseok in a situation like this.

They make it out of the building, the fresh night breeze cooling down Yoongi’s flushed cheeks and sweaty neck. It feels more pleasant to run in these conditions. Just as they’re about to turn the corner and move out of view, they hear a big bang, almost like an explosion, and through the open windows of the carpark, they can see flames. Big, bright flames.

The car set on fire. Hoseok did it.

Hoseok stops, looking at the orange glow with a growing smile on his face as he pants for air. The colour is bright and powerful, like a perfect sunset right at its apex, like the ripest tangerine, and Yoongi thinks it looks out of place for this to happen in a car park on the dingy side of Seoul. The mystical amber encompasses the grimy cement walls and the weeds growing between the cracked plates under their feet. It’s beauty in the midst of misery.

Yoongi lets Hoseok enjoy it for a moment while keeping his eyes on the entrance, and then he touches his shoulder gently.

‘We should go.’

Hoseok nods, but his eyes are still glued to the roaring fire. Yoongi knows he wants to watch it for longer, it’s what makes him feel alive, but they just about got away. The guard probably got distracted by the fire, or hurt. They need to go before he remembers he was meant to be chasing them or he calls for backup.

After a moment, Yoongi squeezes Hoseok’s shoulder again and the younger finally looks at him. He nods, and they walk towards the bus stop in silence.

***

‘So?’ Hoseok says, looking at Yoongi with a cocky expression.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. He already knows what Hoseok is going to say, but he would rather play dumb. ‘So what?’

‘I think you owe me an apology,’ Hoseok accuses, pointing at Yoongi with his red chopsticks. He’s already digging into his steaming bowl of pho even though Yoongi’s food hasn’t arrived yet and technically Hoseok is meant to wait for Yoongi to begin eating first, but neither of them are very fond of conventions.

‘Why would I apologise?’

‘You doubted me. You made it seem like I couldn’t do it.’

‘And you almost didn’t,’ Yoongi warns with no bite in his words. ‘You almost got us in big fucking trouble.’

‘See, the keyword there is almost. But I did do it, and you did doubt me.’ Hoseok slurps as he shoves noodles into his mouth, stuffing his cheeks until they bulge out. He speaks as he chews, ‘So you owe me an apology.’

Just then, the server – a meagre, sweet-looking woman with thick streaks of silver hair and a thin-lipped smile – arrives and places Yoongi’s bowl of chicken ramen on the table. Yoongi thanks her with a nod, and he stirs the food around as he waits for her to leave. This conversation should not be overheard. In fact, they probably shouldn’t be having it in the middle of a Thai restaurant, but it’s a hole-in-a-wall place and there is too much noise around for their conversation to be made out in the midst of all of the blabbering.

 ‘We’re not in jail right now because of me.’

‘No, I was the one who got us to start running. Then again, we had to, or we would’ve been toast.’ Hoseok sips his beer. ‘Like literally. The flames sort of come out when they go up. It’s very dangerous to stand close by, we had to go.’

Yoongi stares at Hoseok. ‘Do you think the guard got caught in it?’

Hoseok shrugs. ‘I don’t know. But if he did, then it’s because of me we’re not arrested, and now you owe me a double apology.’

Yoongi swirls his chopsticks around the noodles, scooping them up, and takes a bite. The noodles immediately burn his tongue like a hot iron, causing him to yelp softly. He should’ve waited longer, but now it’s too late and it’d be very gross for him to spit the food out. He opens his mouth and blows out air around the noodles, chewing them carefully.

Once they’re down his throat, he takes a large gulp from his beer and says, ‘It was your idea to begin with.’

‘And you went along with it. And it worked out.’ Hoseok chuckles. ‘I’m a genius.’

‘You’re a genius my ass.’

‘Don’t be jealous, hyung.’

‘What would I be jealous of? Of your freaky obsession with fire or lack of survival instincts?’

Hoseok laughs at Yoongi’s words, like they’re a joke, and Yoongi supposes they sort of are, in the sense that he doesn’t really mean to mock Hoseok. He doesn’t mind his interest in arson and his looser sense of living when it’s not bringing them closer to being arrested. Hoseok is his friend, after all. Of course he doesn’t really mind those things.

‘You wish you were a genius like me.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Yoongi kicks Hoseok’s shin. ‘Have you forgotten who’s paying for the food?’

‘Yeah, but you pay for everything. What’s the difference?’

‘You’re so fucking cheeky,’ Yoongi comments, and he can’t suppress the smile from rising to the surface any longer. Hoseok’s grin widens smugly when he sees Yoongi’s expression. ‘It’s about time you start paying for some shit, you know?’

‘I though the benefits of sleeping on your couch were that I didn’t have to pay anything.’

‘Well, you’ve been on my couch for two months, so I think it’s about time things changed.’

Hoseok’s smile dims a little and he nods, looking down at his food with a dejected expression. His cheeks almost look rounder as he says, ‘I know, hyung. I’ll get a job soon, don’t worry.’

Yoongi feels a pang of guilty stab him in the chest – he was only trying to pull Hoseok’s leg a bit. He nudges Hoseok’s leg again, this time softly, just getting his attention. ‘Hey, I was just joking. You can stay however long you want, you don’t need to pay for anything. Hyung will take care of it.’

‘It’s not fair, though, is it?’

‘I don’t really care about that sort of stuff. The business is doing good, as you know,’ Yoongi explains, stirring his food. He doesn’t want to burn himself again and large puffs of steam are still rising from the broth. ‘You can stay as long as you want. I mean, it’s not a nice place, I know, but-’

‘I like it there,’ Hoseok interjects. He has a small smile on his lips, which Yoongi much prefers to see. ‘I like the view from the window and that you always keep things tidy, which is nice. But anyway, I need money, besides helping you out. I still have savings from- you know, but it won’t last forever. I’m still a bit of a newbie at this stuff with fire, so it’s not enough to really do anything with it. I’ll get a job for now, and then we- I- you know. I can keep practicing.’

‘I see,’ Yoongi says, looking at Hoseok. He always avoids looking at him too much, because it makes him feel- all sorts of confusing things he doesn’t want to feel. Hoseok’s face is flushed from the humid air in the restaurant and the steam rising from his bowl, and his soft black hair falls over his eyebrows like- branches. Flowers, or- maybe like the sea. Calm, undercurrent waves where things are dark but a glimmer of light shines through.

It's almost like he doesn’t belong here. He belongs elsewhere, a place that is not in a restaurant with bright green walls and cheap plastic tables with vinyl tablecloths and cheap food that burns your mouth and makes you order more beer. He belongs- elsewhere entirely. Somewhere much nicer.

Hoseok looks up at Yoongi and smiles, the mole over his lip lifting with the expression. ‘So, you think I did well?’

Yoongi averts his eyes. ‘Of course you did. Just need to be faster next time.’

‘But we can keep practicing?’

Yoongi brings his beer to his lips. He should say no. He should say that it’s not a great idea to light up any cars on fire, definitely not in patrolled car parks, definitely not cars that could get people to press charges, definitely not with Yoongi around to get caught as well. They shouldn’t do any of that stuff, because it’s dangerous and potentially pointless, because Yoongi isn’t even sure what Hoseok could do with arson that would earn him money when they have no connections and no- idea what do with it. It’s a stupid, very dangerous idea. They really shouldn’t practice anymore.

Yoongi sets down the bottle, his tongue still stinging. He goes back to stirring his noodles.

‘Of course. We’ll try again soon.’

Hoseok smiles brightly, his lips stretching to reveal his white teeth, and Yoongi feels his heart stupidly rattle in his chest.

***

When they get home, if you can call it that, it’s already midnight. The moon is high outside and everything is quiet as they climb up the stairs to their apartment on the top floor, the rattle of Yoongi’s keys in his hand echoing.

Yoongi and Hoseok kick off their shoes by the door, and place them on the rack Hoseok bought just for this purpose. It’s a two-shelf black plastic rack that is large enough to accommodate Yoongi’s converse and pair of black sliders and Hoseok’s boots, sneakers and bright yellow flip-flops. It’s nice because it keeps the landing space tidy, given there’s not much of it.

Yoongi’s studio apartment is tiny – you can cross the length of it in less than six big steps. He’s at least lucky the miniscule bathroom has a door and there is a large, built-in wardrobe that allows for a lot of storage space, albeit always smelling a bit like mildew. Yoongi’s single bed is right by the window, and the small black couch he found next to a dumpster is pressed against the other free wall, right next to the door that leads to the bathroom. There is a small table in front of the couch that props up Yoongi small twenty-inch TV. The kitchen area is tiny, but it has a stove and an oven and a full-size fridge, so it’s not too bad. It’s not too bad.

Hoseok coming to live here after he left his previous- occupation was a no brainer, because Hoseok was desperate to leave and Yoongi wanted to make sure he had somewhere clean and safe to stay. He knows a couch is not much, but he did offer Hoseok the bed and he refused. Yoongi wishes he hadn’t because he doesn’t like the thought of Hoseok sleeping somewhere so constricted. They could get an inflatable bed or something, but with Hoseok bags around, there isn’t much space for it.

They’re just doing with what they can. They do what they can.

Hoseok takes off his hoodie and he throws it on the couch. He yawns loudly, stretching his arms above his head, his white t-shirt hugging his body in places where he’s sweating. Yoongi watches the line of Hoseok’s arms as he leans back, tilting his neck either way. Sometimes he wonders what Hoseok’s skin feels like. They’ve been friends for a year, and he’s yet to touch him like that. He doesn’t think it’s something he should think of, but Yoongi adds it to the pile of stuff he shouldn’t think about, which is quite large by now. Yoongi doesn’t have a good grip on his thoughts.

Hoseok climbs on top of Yoongi’s bed and he opens the window with the small metal handle. He has to wiggle it back and forth to allow for movement, but eventually, he gets the panel up. He grunts a little as he stands up on the bed and swings his leg onto the other side of the window, bending his body so he can fit through the open gap. He lifts his other leg and stands out on the fire escape landing that is right by Yoongi’s window. Yoongi follows him out as well.

This side of the scrummy apartment complex is facing the boring part of the road where nothing happens – some drunkards pass by sometimes, but it’s mainly a parking lot filled up by various vehicles owned by the people who live in the building and also work nearby. The distant sounds of cars driving and beeping is just that – distant – and here things are calm, and isolated. As Yoongi lives on the top floor, so no one can see them here. It’s almost like their own, private space while out in the open.

Yoongi pats his pockets until he finds the cigarette pack. It’s in his back pocket and it’s been mushed from being sat on, but the five cigarettes inside are unscathed, thankfully. Yoongi hands Hoseok a cigarette, and then takes one for himself.

‘I’ll buy the cigarettes next time,’ Hoseok comments, taking his red and purple striped lighter out of his jeans pocket. He lights his cigarette and then Yoongi’s. It’s something he’s done for a while and Yoongi doesn’t mind. Hoseok’s hand cups around Yoongi’s cigarette as he burns the tip and Yoongi looks at Hoseok’s dark eyes and he doesn’t mind.

Yoongi breathes in the first hit of nicotine, and blows the smoke out while shaking his head. ‘I was just joking earlier, Hoseok. You don’t owe me anything.’

‘You sure you weren’t just saying the truth in a funny way?’

‘One hundred per cent,’ Yoongi says, leaning against the railing. Hoseok looks at him suspiciously, and blows out smoke through his lips. His mauve mouth is lit up by the moonlight, as are his eyelashes. His profile, his nose and his chin and his lips are- fuck, it’s-

Hoseok cards his hair away from his face. ‘You don’t have to take care of me, you know?’

Yoongi chuckles. ‘Who else am I going to take care of?’

Hoseok tilts his head, and he exhales as if defeated. He looks up at the sky, and says, ‘Is it weird we don’t have other friends?’

‘Maybe. It’s hard to make friends here.’

‘It is.’ Hoseok turns to Yoongi and leans against the rail, one of his hands draped politely over the metal. ‘I don’t even know how we became friends.’

‘You tried to buy ket off me, if I remember correctly.’

‘But you didn’t have any. Shame.’

Yoongi cracks a smile. ‘Sorry I only got snow.’

‘It’s alright. I shouldn’t have been doing ket to begin with, so it was probably for the best.’ Hoseok brings the cigarette to his lips. ‘I shouldn’t be doing any of that stuff.’

‘Neither of us should. When I did stuff, I was so fucked. I’m lucky I never got arrested.’

There’s a pause, and a peaceful silence between them. Silence between them is always very comfortable.

‘I notice you haven’t been taking your sleeping pills.’

Yoongi shrugs. He takes a drag. ‘I haven’t really needed to. I’ve been sleeping fine.’

‘That’s good. That’s cool.’

‘It’s alright.’

Yoongi doesn’t really understand how this has happened, though. It really makes no sense whatsoever. He used to have awful insomnia, barely sleep until exhaustion crept up on him like a shadow and knocked him out for a whole night and half a day, and now he just- sleeps. He still wakes up from time to time, but he looks up, scans the apartment, sees Hoseok sleeping, and goes back to bed. It doesn’t make sense at all. It’s all so stupid.

Hoseok yawns and he stretches his arms above his head. He takes a last puff from the cigarette and stamps the butt out on the rail. They’re not meant to, but Hoseok always throws his cigarette butts over the rail and onto the ground. It’s littering and maybe they’ll get in trouble for it, but Yoongi doesn’t tell him off.

‘Let’s sleep. I’m so fucking tired.’

‘Setting a car on fire tired you out?’

‘Yeah, it did,’ Hoseok says, climbing back inside. Yoongi dumps his cigarette butt into the dirty flowerpot on the windowpane and follows him.

Yoongi feels pretty tired too. After getting ready for bed, and while Hoseok is still showering, he finds himself dozing off, thinking of the bright orange flames in the car park.

***

Yoongi leans against the wall, sipping his beer slowly. He’s meant to drink at these parties so he doesn’t stand out as a drug dealer, but getting buzzed in any way is very, very dangerous. He needs to have his wits about him and be aware of his surroundings. So, he drinks the cheap lager very slowly. It’s not very nice because his beer always turns flat and stale halfway through the night, but there are worse things in this life one has to endure.

He’s already sold five eight balls, which isn’t too bad, but it’s past midnight and by this point, he had hoped to get to seven. Cokeheads are always very willing to share what they get, which is ironic because it costs so much money, but it means that not as many people come to him to buy because they can get their hit off someone else.

He sighs to himself, closing his eyes. He will stay a couple more hours, get out of here by two. He can sleep in tomorrow, so it’s not so bad. And it’s really not so bad at all, it’s been a good month. Summer always means more parties which means more drug consumption. He’s been making good money, and he knows his boss – a man he is yet to meet but his middleman, a short guy who goes by Sath for some unknown reason, talks a lot about – is happy with how good he is at getting product distributed. That’s good for Yoongi either way he sees it. More money is what he needs right now with Hoseok living with him. He wants to make sure the younger has anything he needs, he can continue sending money to his brother and that they can move out to a bigger place eventually. Those are his priorities right now.

The music is really not too bad either. Party hosts, or the DJs they hire, usually play generic EDM loops on repeat, but right now house mashups of pop songs are streaming through the speakers and it’s fairly enjoyable. The dramatic beat added to Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance drops and Yoongi can feel the bass under his feet. Yeah, it’s not so bad.

Yoongi rests his head against the wall and he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. From their smell alone – fresh sweat mixed with mint and tea tree – he knows it’s Hoseok. His giggle also gives him away. Yoongi opens his eyes, and sees the younger has his lip tucked between his teeth, his expression giddy.

‘How much did you drink since I last saw you?’

‘Uh, dunno,’ Hoseok walks closer to Yoongi. He’s wearing a red tank top that shows off his toned arms and that silver chain he never takes off, no matter what. His jeans are baggy and frayed at the hems, and Yoongi is sure if Hoseok was to lift up his tank top, the band of his underwear would show over the loose waist band of his trousers flirting with his slim hipbones. Yoongi tries to not think about that though. Hoseok leans against the wall next to him. ‘Two beers, I think. And a shot some guy gave me.’

‘You shouldn’t accept drinks from people.’

‘I’m still conscious, so don’t stress,’ Hoseok giggles again and he turns to Yoongi. He says something, but Yoongi can’t hear him over the music. Yoongi scrunches his face and mouths what, and Hoseok rolls his eyes before pushing his mouth right against the shell of Yoongi’s ear. ‘He was cute, we danced together. He was griding on me like crazy.’ The words are followed by another giggle, which hints to Yoongi Hoseok is very happy about this turn of events.

Yoongi feels sour bile clog up in throat, and he sips his beer again. It tastes disgusting and he wants to down the whole thing. He wishes he was absolutely trashed and he couldn’t understand Hoseok’s words, or that he could forget about them, or that he had some chance of forgetting about them before tomorrow. But no, he’s fully sober, so he will think about them, and think about them a lot, and think about Hoseok dancing with this fucking guy, as if- Yoongi didn’t even know Hoseok was looking to dance with anyone. Since when does he dance with people? Against his will, Yoongi verbalises this thought before he can think about it.

‘I felt like it. He was hot, I don’t know,’ Hoseok slurs obnoxiously loud, and he leans his head against Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi wants to shrug him off and go outside for a smoke, but he also doesn’t want to leave Hoseok behind in this mayhem. He sounds very drunk, and it’s for the best they stick together.

‘You shouldn’t get wasted at these parties, you know that,’ Yoongi shouts over to him so he can be heard. Hoseok shakes his head against Yoongi’s shirt, probably wiping some of his makeup on the black fabric.

‘I’m not wasted. Just tipsy.’ Hoseok lifts his head. ‘Are you done for the night?’

‘No.’

‘How long will it be?’

‘I don’t know, maybe another hour or two.’

Hoseok looks at Yoongi – Yoongi knows it because he can feel his eyes on him. He can feel every time Hoseok looks over at him, particularly when he has that black eyeliner framing his eyes.

‘Are you annoyed?’

‘No, I’m not annoyed.’ Yoongi looks over at Hoseok, and sees he’s pouting. ‘But you know you’re not meant to drink so much.’

‘It’s boring here without the drinks.’

‘You don’t have to come along, you know?’

‘But I like coming here with you,’ Hoseok whines. Yoongi feels his heart tug in his chest at the triangular frown on Hoseok’s face, but there is still a vile, mean feeling in his stomach he can’t shake off. He hates when he feels this way. He doesn’t like being this way. Specially to Hoseok, of all people.

Yoongi sets down his beer cup, ready to abandon it. He grabs Hoseok’s forearm and tugs him along. ‘Let’s go grab some fresh air.’

Hoseok sort of protests but Yoongi can’t hear his words. They push past the dense crowd of sweaty dancing bodies, the air pungent and thick, before they make it out through the open front entrance. This party is happening at some rich dude’s house, a large modern three-storey building with a pool out back and a landscaped front yard. Even out here, there are people gathered, namely a couple eating each other’s faces off and two dudes chatting loudly about the current rankings of football teams in the league. Yoongi walks with Hoseok until they’ve made it past the front gate, and he fishes his cigarette pack out of his shirt pocket.

Hoseok leans against the black metal gate, and then he slides down to the floor. Usually, he would find sitting on the street absolutely disgusting, but it seems in his inhibited state he doesn’t care nearly as much. Yoongi lets him sit, and lights the end of his cigarette.

‘You get in such a bad mood sometimes,’ Hoseok complains, his slur much more pronounced now Yoongi can hear him probably. Two beers his ass.

‘I’m not in a bad mood. You know I don’t come to these things for fun, and I don’t want to have to babysit you for being irresponsible,’ Yoongi says, taking a drag from his cigarette. The nicotine and the fresh air are slowly dislodging the nausea in him.

‘I had a bit to drink! It’s not irresponsible.’

‘You can’t accept drinks from strangers.’

‘Is that really your problem? That I did a shot at a party?’ Yoongi hears Hoseok stand up from the ground with some difficulty. Hoseok raises himself up on wobbly legs and he looks at Yoongi. Yoongi turns his face to look back at him, and he is surprised to see some anger there. It’s unusual for Hoseok to get angry.

‘You know what I mean. And honestly, we’re not having this conversation while you’re drunk.’

‘I’m not drunk, I’m fine! Honestly, is it because I danced with that guy?’

Yoongi frowns. ‘I don’t give a fuck if you’ve danced with some asshole.’

‘You don’t know him to know if he’s an asshole,’ Hoseok counters, his voice shrill and almost indignant that Yoongi would assume such a thing.

Yoongi drops his voice down to a whisper, aware there still people around who could hear them. ‘Everyone here is an asshole, Seok.’

‘Yeah, including you!’ Hoseok begins walking away all of a sudden. ‘I’m going home.’

‘You’re not going home alone.’ Yoongi says, catching Hoseok’s wrist. His hand encircles the bone completely. Fuck, why is Hoseok’s wrist so fucking small?

‘I don’t care, I’m tired of being here. Clearly I’m not very good company to you, am I?’

Hoseok twists his hand out of Yoongi’s grip and he stomps away. Yoongi is left staring after him, because he doesn’t want to cause more of a scene – the two face-eaters have opted to stare at their confrontation as opposed to continue their tryst, so it’s for the best he lets it go. He leans against the gate again and looks up at the moon, taking another puff from his cigarette.

Yoongi doesn’t understand why Hoseok got so mad all of a sudden. Yoongi tells him the same thing every time he drinks too much, which hasn’t happened too often, but when it does happen, Yoongi has to chastise him. He doesn’t want to, and he would happily go with Hoseok to a normal place where he doesn’t have work responsibilities and drink with him and- and have a good time. But this is not the time or place, and he knows that.

And Yoongi is not mad about him dancing with some guy. He doesn’t care. He literally doesn’t care. Hoseok just left sex work, so good for him to have some fun. It’s literally whatever. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t continue to see it happening behind his closed eyelids, Hoseok grinding on some faceless fucking idiot, his lips tucked between his teeth and his hair sticking to his forehead and the band of his boxers visible as the guy touches his stomach, and he doesn’t care.

Yoongi leaves the party only half an hour later. He didn’t meet his quota, but he doesn’t really care. He’ll make up for it some other time. When he gets home, he makes sure to slip off his shoes quietly and avoid the two creaky floorboards right by the door. He can see Hoseok has passed out on the couch, his cheek mushed against his pillow, still in the same clothes that he wore to the party. It doesn’t look like he took off his makeup either from the smudged eyeliner around his eyes.

Yoongi washes his teeth and his face in the bathroom, and fills up a large glass of water, setting it down on the coffee table by the couch along with an aspirin. He tries to not look at Hoseok for too long before he knows he will feel all the things he’s not meant to feel. He puts on his sleeping clothes – a t-shirt and shorts – and slips inside his bedcovers. He takes a deep breath and he closes his eyes.

Yoongi doesn’t think about Hoseok grinding his body against Yoongi’s, about his dark eyes mapping Yoongi’s features, about- about anything he shouldn’t. He’s Hoseok’s hyung, the only person he can count on, someone who relies on him financially. He needs to stop thinking about those things. It’s maddening how much he thinks about something that can’t happen.

Hoseok snores softly on the couch. For a moment, Yoongi imagines Hoseok’s cheek in his palm, and feeling his eyelashes with his thumb, and then he falls asleep.

***

Yoongi and Hoseok don’t talk about the weird moment at the party. Hoseok wakes up groggy and a little hungover, and Yoongi makes him fried eggs on toast without shaming him further. Hoseok eats silently, and they move on.

To not repeat the fumble that happened the other night in the car park, they scope out a different place and target for Hoseok to practice his skills. Hoseok finds this building that seems to have been abandoned for a long time from the state of the cracked windows, the lack of locked doors and the copious amount of graffitiing. On the other side of the building, in a deserted yard covered in overgrown grass that goes up to their knees, is a car that is in similar condition to the building. It’s small grey Ford, and it’s perfect for Hoseok’s aim.

‘It’s locked,’ Hoseok says, trying the door just to show Yoongi. ‘But it will be easy to get it open.’

‘Good.’

It’s broad daylight, and this is a fairly safe, isolated location. Yoongi thought there would be homeless people or drug addicts lying around, but that hasn’t been the case. Perhaps the building is too remote to be a popular sleeping stop – there is only one bus that services this area, and it’s right at the northern edge of Seoul. Not the best place to stay when you don’t have any money.

Hoseok uses a long wire that he had folded up in his pocket to pry the door open, and then he gets to work pulling out the wires under the car’s dashboard. Yoongi leans against the dirty car, quite glad to be wearing a pair of jeans he doesn’t care much about and doesn’t mind staining with dust and grime. It’s really hot at this time of the day, but Yoongi turns his face up to the sun and lets himself feel the heat. He will go back into the building if he gets too hot.

Hoseok is quiet as he works, his nimble fingers pulling out red, green and blue cables and looking at them like they mean something. Yoongi couldn’t do any of this. He doesn’t really get how wires can cause fires in cars and honestly, he doesn’t need to. He thinks it’s good Hoseok has something that is his own and makes him happy.

‘I got a job.’

Yoongi looks down at Hoseok. Hoseok still has his head tucked into the car, so Yoongi can’t see his expression. His voice doesn’t give Yoongi much direction on how he should react either.

‘Where?’

‘A small grocery shop, as a cashier. It’s within walking distance of our place. It should be nice, I think.’

‘Are you happy about it?’

‘It’s a job.’

Yoongi nods, to himself mainly. He’s starting to sweat in his clothes, and he takes a deep breath.

‘You didn’t need to.’

‘I wanted to. I can’t dip into my savings forever. I can’t go back to prostitution either.’

‘I can always pay for stuff. I told you this.’

‘You’re not responsible for me, hyung,’ Hoseok says, crawling out of the car and looking at Yoongi. His expression is withdrawn, his eyebrows furrowed sternly, which Yoongi didn’t expect. Yoongi looks away.

‘I’ll always be responsible for you.’

‘You’re not my brother, you know?’

Yoongi feels a nagging feeling crawl up in his chest. I don’t want to be your fucking brother, either. I already have a brother I’m failing.

‘I’m aware. I would’ve killed you by now if you were my brother.’

Hoseok chuckles, and Yoongi feels a weight lift off his shoulders. That’s good. He doesn’t understand why they’re having this conversation now anyway, why it has to be in this tone. If Hoseok wanted to get a job and got one, good for him. Yoongi is fine with it either way.

Hoseok works on the car a long time. He goes back and forth on it, pulling out things and looking at things and doing- things. Lots and lots of things. Yoongi can feel sweat pool around the collar of his t-shirt and down his back, and eventually, he has to go back inside the building to get some relief from the blazing sun. Hoseok is sweating too, his hair sticking to his damp forehead and his red t-shirt clinging to his form, but it seems to not even be an active thought in his mind as he works.

Yoongi smokes inside the building, and enjoys the soft breeze that blows between the two open doorways. He’s not sure how much time passes before Hoseok shouts his name and tells him to go back out.

‘I did it, hyung.’ Hoseok says with a cute smile. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are flushed and when he passes his dirty hand through his hair, it all holds together like hair gel. Hoseok is a little out of breath, but he crouches down on the floor without making any noise.

Yoongi walks towards him, but Hoseok shouts, ‘Don’t get too close. Stay there. I just need to get it started.’

Hoseok does something out of Yoongi’s view, and then he jogs away from the vehicle, joining Yoongi’s side. He smells a little like greenery, fresh sweat and triumph. He wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and they watch the car for a moment. It takes a few seconds, and Yoongi was about to question if it had worked or what he should be watching out for, when the flames between to spread inside the car, waving at them through the muddy windows. They grow quickly in the treacherous afternoon heat, and Yoongi watches them grow, swallow out the grey as they rise in their power. Yoongi is standing far away from the flames, but he can feel their heat even from a distance.

‘There is no explosion-like thing, though.’

‘No, I tried to make it so it was calmer. Less dangerous for the person igniting the fire,’ Hoseok turns to Yoongi. ‘Do you like it?’

Yoongi nods, mesmerised. Fire can be so mesmerising, as stunning as it is dangerous. He’s never seen fire like this in person until he met Hoseok. ‘It’s amazing you can do this.’

‘I’ll get faster at it. I just need to keep going.’

‘I agree.’ Yoongi smiles to himself. The flames reflect Hoseok’s brilliance, are a product of his skill, and he doesn’t know how to even say it. How to tell Hoseok he’s brilliant, but he is. He’s brilliant. ‘You did really well.’

‘You think so?’

Yoongi turns to look at Hoseok. Hoseok is smiling brightly, his dark eyes the colour of coal before it’s been burnt and ashes after the fire has been snuffed out. His black hair reflects the striking sunlight, and Yoongi wishes he knew how to feel the right things and say the correct words. He’s no good at saying things, and he’s not good at feeling like this.

‘I know so. You just have to keep going.’

Hoseok gives Yoongi the most delighted grin, and he nods to himself. They watch the fire until it subsides and then they go home. It’s an afternoon well-spent.

***

Yoongi sips his beer. Hoseok is fiddling with the red bracelet wrapped around his wrist as he nods his head to the music. The party only begun two hours ago but people are drinking like crazy and Yoongi already sold eight eightballs, but he’s staying because he wants to make up for the loss he had last time. Hoseok has stuck by his side the whole time, and hasn’t drunk anything except for some of Yoongi’s beer.

Yoongi watches people dance on the floor around them. The music is booming, and this time it’s proper pop music, no mashups or anything. Yoongi is not sure where the spinning coloured lights are coming from, but they tint everything red then blue then purple and pink and green, and it seems to act as a visual muffler, making the people in the crowd feel less real and yet, sharper. Yoongi doesn’t think he can hear his own thoughts with the way the bass vibrates and his eyes can’t make out what colour the clothes anyone is wearing really are.

‘This is one of the better parties,’ Hoseok comments to him in his ear. Yoongi nods.

He leans against Hoseok’s ear, smelling the rich cologne clinging to the fabric of his blue button-down, and he says, ‘This guy is proper rich, from what Sath tells me. I’ve only been here once before.’

Hoseok nods, and he leans against Yoongi’s ear. From the way they’re sat down, their knees touch, and Hoseok’s shoulder touches Yoongi’s chest. His body is so unbelievably hot, and it’s a different type of hot than the stale alcoholic air of the closed-house party. It’s almost like the sun touching your skin, or petting a dog’s fur.

‘One day, you’re going to be so big you’re going to get invited to all the parties.’

Yoongi laughs, and he thinks Hoseok heard the sound from the way he smiles. He shakes his head, leaning back against the couch. ‘You’re fucking crazy.’

Hoseok doesn’t need to be close to understand what Yoongi said. He sits back on the couch, and shouts, ‘Let’s go dance!’

Yoongi shakes his head, his smile fizzling. ‘No way.’

‘Why not? We’re sober!’ Hoseok gets tired of shouting and he places his mouth close to the shell of Yoongi’s ear again. ‘You told me it was fine if we’re sober.’

‘I never said anything about dancing. I don’t wanna dance.’

Hoseok stands up with a surprising amount of energy. His shirt is oversized, as is most of what he wears, and he’s wearing that pair of jeans he wears all the time and literally everywhere. He clutches Yoongi’s arm and gets him to stand up, his scrawny arms a lot stronger than they seem. Yoongi groans loudly as he goes, but he doesn’t tug back on Hoseok’s grip because he doesn’t want the younger to fall over. He thought he would stand up and then bicker a little bit before Hoseok goes dancing on his own, but the younger’s hold on Yoongi’s forearm is freakishly tight. Yoongi tries to yank his hand back, but Hoseok shakes his head and says something about them going to dance together.

Yoongi has no choice but be dragged along as they walk into the middle of the makeshift dance floor, right at the centre of tin-packed crowd. Yoongi feels arms and torsos jam into his own as he follows Hoseok, and then when they settle into a spot they’re happy with, Yoongi is only aware Hoseok’s body, his heat, his smell as they stand so close together. Yoongi doesn’t think they’ve ever been this close together.

The music on the dance floor is even louder and punchier, the bass trembling in Yoongi’s eardrums and the energy climaxing as the song reaches the last chorus. Hoseok raises his arms and starts moving to the music, something he does quite effortlessly. His hair bounces with each little hop, his lips lift with a satisfied smile, and Yoongi tries to move along as well even if he’s not so good at it – he’s never been a dancer, and probably will never be one. But it doesn’t really matter what happens here, because it’s just a stupid party full of drunk and high people with no sense of coordination, and Hoseok won’t really judge him. He might mock him a little, but Hoseok never truly judges him.

Hoseok grins widely as he watches Yoongi move to the music as well, and he giggles – Yoongi wishes he could hear the sound clearly, but he might as well be deaf to any human voices, because he can’t hear any. He can’t even hear himself. The song suddenly changes to another, a much slower R&B song that is almost- sultry. A male rapper delivers some words Yoongi knows to be about sex just from the sound of the delayed beat and intentionally punchy drums.

Everyone’s movements shrink and grow more deliberate, stagnant, including Hoseok’s, who starts moving his hips is small tight circles. It’s not like he’s griding against Yoongi, but Yoongi can feel the movement from the points where their bodies do touch, their arms, their chests, Hoseok’s smell all over him. Yoongi’s mouth grows dry, and he’s not sure what to do with himself. Hoseok locks eyes with Yoongi, and he smiles again. He leans close to Yoongi’s ear, and says, ‘Dance again!’

‘I don’t know how,’ Yoongi protests, and he’s already planned to leave in the next three seconds, even if Hoseok complains.

‘Follow my lead then.’

Before Yoongi can question this further, or make his escape, Hoseok takes Yoongi’s hands and he places them on either side of Hoseok’s waist. Yoongi stares at Hoseok dumbly, and Hoseok wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck, pushing their stomachs together. Hoseok continues to move like water, like water gliding over Yoongi’s senses, his good sense, his common sense, and Yoongi is frozen in place, just- staring. Staring at Hoseok’s dark eyes, the kaleidoscope of lights tinting his skin, refracting in his hair, tinting his mauve lips all sorts of colours, like lipstick. His teeth, his tongue, his- eyes, are red then blue then purple and pink and green. He is- every colour. Yoongi can only breathe him, feel the stiff cotton of his shirt, and look into those eyes. Hoseok stares back, and Yoongi can’t even tell what he’s thinking. Is he thinking anything? He’s not- neither is Yoongi. Yoongi is not thinking as his hand twitches around the curve of Hoseok’s waist, and he moves his own hips down against Hoseok’s, their crotches meeting. Yoongi almost groans but keeps the sound locked in his mouth.

Hoseok tilts his head, closing his eyes as if he felt it, really felt it, and when he opens them again they’re- they’re darker. They’re darker and brighter, flames in the night, moon amongst the dark sky. Yoongi can’t feel anything – everything slows down, and he can’t feel anything that isn’t tied to Hoseok.

He has one of those thoughts he shouldn’t have, a thought that he has so often it’s part of the routine of electrical signals in his brain – Hoseok is so beautiful. It’s like a subconscious murmuring, an item in the shopping list, a task on the to-do pile – I need to make coffee, need up to pick sugar, Hoseok is so beautiful. Have to go meet this guy to sell him two eightballs, need to take out the trash, Hoseok is so beautiful. Hoseok is so beautiful, I need to go pick up food, I need to dump the cigarette butts from the flowerpot. He has so many thoughts he shouldn’t have, forbidden musings that are all wrong, because Hoseok is his friend and he needs him. He needs him because neither of them have anyone else. Not the way they have each other.

Yoongi pulls back, letting go of Hoseok. The loss of the feeling is like an electrical shock, the end of a current stinging his skin. Hoseok blinks and Yoongi forces a smile.

‘I wanna go smoke. Come with?’

Hoseok takes a moment but he eventually nods. They go outside into the fresh air and Yoongi brings a cigarette to his mouth without even registering how the cigarette appeared in his hand. He didn’t notice his hands were shaking until it took him three times to get the lighter to ignite. Hoseok smokes as well, and they don’t talk about what happened. Yoongi makes a comment about how stupid the man on the other side of the street looks in his orange Hawaiian shirt, and Hoseok laughs, and they forget about it, too.

Or at least Yoongi tries to. He really tries to.

***

‘Okay, this movie is so fucking boring,’ Hoseok says, thumbing through his phone and not looking at the screen.

Yoongi chews his ramen noodles, the instant stuff that is too salty but always remedies a late-night craving, and he rolls his eyes. ‘You haven’t been paying attention for the last five minutes.’

‘I’m playing my game. And I can still hear the dialogue.’ Hoseok argues. Hoseok is lying down next to Yoongi, his face is obscured by his phone, so Yoongi can’t see his expression to fully determine how serious he’s being. He decides he’s half-joking from the mere fact that he never cares very much if a movie they’re watching is good or not, and he tends to like the bad ones more than the Oscar-winners.

‘I thought you liked superhero movies.’

‘I like Iron Man,’ Hoseok says. He drops his hands to his lap, and Yoongi can see he’s definitely joking as there’s already a smile playing at his lips. ‘I like Captain America. But this is shit.’

‘You don’t like Superman then?’

‘No, definitely not. He’s boring, and he sounds like an asshole.’

Yoongi eats the last of the ramen and places the pot on the coffee table. He would drink the broth, but it’s probably so salty he would go into premature cardiac arrest. ‘Alright then, Mr Movie Critic, choose something else.’

Hoseok lifts his phone back up to his face. ‘No, you can go ahead. I just wanted to say the movie sucks.’

‘Your opinion has been duly noted.’

‘You don’t give a shit, do you?’

‘Definitely not.’

They laugh together, and the movie keeps playing. It’s definitely not the most exciting movie Yoongi has ever seen, but he also doesn’t really care for very melodramatic or high-action movies. He’s happy watching most things. He never watched many movies before, but Hoseok likes to watch something before bed, and neither of them want to commit to a show. They would probably be better off watching a show, though.

Hoseok suddenly throws his phone on the coffee table, and turns around to face the screen. They watch in silence for a moment, and then Hoseok says, ‘He is hot, though.’

Yoongi smiles. ‘I didn’t know you liked muscular white guys.’

‘I like guys that are hot. He’s hot.’

‘I mean, I guess.’ Yoongi doesn’t really see the appeal. He doesn’t like people who look too perfect, and the man portraying Superman is definitely too perfect. Or maybe he’s just not Yoongi’s type, not that Yoongi has really reflected on what his type is.

He feels Hoseok look at him. The younger stretches obnoxiously, jamming his foot into Yoongi’s thigh, and then he asks, ‘What’s your type?’

Yoongi turns to Hoseok. His face has that mischievous expression with the little curled smile Hoseok does when he knows he’s asking Yoongi something that will make him uncomfortable. Yoongi is mainly used to it by now.

‘I don’t have a type.’

‘Bullshit. Everyone has a type.’

‘I don’t have one. I haven’t really dated to know if I have a type.’

‘Right. Sometimes I forget about that.’ Silence. Then- ‘But you must find people attractive?’

‘I mean, of course I do.’

‘So what’s your type?’

Yoongi wants to refrain from answering the question completely, but then Hoseok sits up on the couch, criss-crossing his legs, and Yoongi knows he’s fucked. When Hoseok gets really eager for an answer, Yoongi is always fucked.

‘I told you, I don’t have one.’

‘You must.’

‘I don’t, though.’

‘Don’t lie to me, Yoongi.’

Yoongi laughs, hoping it comes across casual and relaxed. He looks at Hoseok, and he regrets doing so because his hair is all messed up from being pressed against his stiff pillow and his side profile is illuminated by the faint blue glow coming from the TV. His eyes twinkle with amusement, and his lips look like a perfect heart accentuated by that small beauty mark, and Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say, what should he say?

‘What’s your type, then?’

Hoseok laughs, and protests, ‘I asked first!’

‘You are insisting everyone has one,’ Yoongi picks up the remote from the couch arm and pauses the movie. The sudden silence is a little awkward, but his own voice fills the air. ‘So, what’s your type? Tell me, and then I might be inspired by what you say.’

Hoseok’s smile dims a little, and he sighs, ‘That’s not fair.’

‘A lot of things aren’t.’

There’s a short pause. Then, Hoseok laughs softly, and he runs a hand through his hair. He leans his cheek against his palm and says, ‘I dunno, I like- someone who is funny, who’s nice, who’s- attractive, like, makes me feel weird just looking at him kind of way? And who understands me, and supports me.’ Hoseok looks at Yoongi, and he nods sheepishly. ‘Someone like that.’

Yoongi feels like he’s been gutted, and he nods. ‘Yeah, that’s probably my type too.’

Hoseok jams his foot into Yoongi’s thigh again. ‘But that’s just you coping me!’

‘I have nothing else to say.’

‘Just think of one thing! And don’t be fucking boring,’ Hoseok says, pushing Yoongi’s shoulder lightly. Yoongi tucks his hair behind his ear and thinks. How can he say something that doesn’t make his skin fizzle away and reveals all of his secrets? The one thing he wants to keep to himself out of all of his secrets.

He looks at Hoseok, right into his eyes. It takes a moment for words to form, but they promptly arrive to his lips.

‘I want someone who makes things make sense, no matter how stupid life is.’

Hoseok stares at Yoongi. Yoongi stares back. Hoseok opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but he closes it again. He looks away, nods, and says, ‘That makes sense.’

He lays down on the couch and un-pauses the movie. They watch it in silence and Yoongi is unsure if he fucked things up.

***

It’s Hoseok’s birthday, and Yoongi has been very good about keeping his surprise a secret.

In the morning, he wished Hoseok a happy birthday and made him his favourite breakfast – American style pancakes with maple syrup, chocolate spread and banana - and Hoseok went off to work. He has a long, eight-hour shift that he couldn’t ditch or swap because he’s still too new to the job. To be fair, Hoseok didn’t look too sad at the prospect of having to go to work, which is good, because Yoongi didn’t want him to be upset during his birthday.

Hoseok seems to be enjoying his new job, and Yoongi is glad the younger can do something to occupy his time and earn some money. Hoseok has asked Yoongi to split the rent, and Yoongi said no and stood down on his answer despite Hoseok insisting. They settled at splitting groceries and Yoongi is already planning to do them on his own so he can cover the cost himself or lie about how much the bill was.

The rest of the day, Yoongi had to go meet some clients, but for the most part, he was free. He went to pick up the cake he ordered three days ago, and some decorations for the apartment. It’s not anything too flashy or fancy, just some colourful balloons – Yoongi makes sure to blow up all of the green ones because that’s Hoseok’s favourite colour – and a big Happy Birthday! banner. He hung it up on the wall above the couch, threw the balloons all over the floor, and made sure he was ready on time to go pick up Hoseok for them to have dinner together at the Japanese restaurant Yoongi made a reservation at, even though he probably didn’t need to because it never seems to be very busy when he passes by. He just doesn’t want anything to go wrong.

Yoongi usually doesn’t care much about his appearance, but he ensures his white button-up shirt is tidy over his black jeans before he leaves the house. He can’t look too smart because that’s weird, and he knows Hoseok doesn’t care how he looks, but this is the first birthday they’re spending together. The first birthday Hoseok is spending away from his shitty family and with someone who actually cares about him. It feels important.

When Yoongi shows up at the convenience store, Hoseok is already outside, talking to another man around their age with bleach blond hair and a big mouth. They’re both smoking, and Hoseok is looking at the blond guy warmly as Yoongi approaches. Yoongi feels a strange nausea hit him just as Hoseok sees him.

‘Looks like that’s me,’ Hoseok says, pushing himself away from the wall. He looks at Yoongi, and then at the blond man again. He’s sort of ugly up close, but there is something about his face - his eyes being too far apart and the flatness of his nose - that is sort of captivating, if you’re into it. Is Hoseok into it?

‘Hyung, this is Sunjo. Sunjo, this is Yoongi hyung.’

Yoongi nods at him, giving him a polite smile. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Nice to meet you too.’ Sunjo puts out his fist to Hoseok, who bumps it. ‘Have a nice birthday, Hoseok. See you tomorrow?’

‘No, my next shift’s Friday. But thanks, I’ll try.’

Hoseok throws his cigarette butt on the ground and he follows Yoongi down the street. For someone who worked an eight-hour shift, he looks meticulously put together, his hair still in place and his clothes unscathed by the labour. Hoseok is wearing his everyday jeans and a silky patterned shirt that would probably slip off his shoulder if it wasn’t buttoned. It’s a nice outfit, Yoongi thinks.

‘How was your shift?’

‘It was okay,’ Hoseok responds. ‘I didn’t have to deal with the stock today, Sunjo did most of it. It was chill.’

‘That’s good.’ Yoongi bumps Hoseok’s shoulder with his own. ‘Excited for your birthday dinner?’

Hoseok grins brightly, leaning closer to Yoongi. ‘Of course I am. It’s going to be great.’ Yoongi notices Hoseok’s eyes going down to his clothes, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Since when do you wear fancy shirts?’

Yoongi wants to throw himself into a bin as soon as possible, but he reckons it might be too late. He shrugs. ‘I just threw it on. Can’t I wear something nice sometimes?’

‘Sure. But at this point you’re going to look better than the birthday boy.’

Yoongi shakes his head. He feels terrible heat flush his cheeks, and he hopes the late evening wind will cool him down. ‘Nonsense. That’s impossible.’

Hoseok looks at him for a moment, and Yoongi avoids his gaze completely. He’s relieved when they get to the restaurant and Hoseok starts planning verbally what he will eat before they’ve even been given the menu because it’s a distraction. He doesn’t want Hoseok to focus too much on him.

Dinner is a peaceful endeavour – Hoseok talks more about his job, and Yoongi talks about all the money coming in and how he’s due to meet his boss sometime soon as they eat their body weight in sushi. Hoseok tells Yoongi it will all go well and Yoongi nods because he wants to think so. He thinks meeting this intimidating faceless figure will feel so fucking weird but he supposes he has to do something if he doesn’t want to be a petty dealer forever. But also he shouldn’t be a petty dealer. His brother would fucking kill him if he found out about this. He wishes he could send his brother more money, but that would only seem even more suspicious. It eats him up sometimes.

Yoongi pays, and they walk back home. Yoongi has to hide his excitement as they make it up the stairs and Yoongi opens the door for Hoseok. When Hoseok sees the decorations, his mouth hangs open and Yoongi can’t stop the smile from taking over his own face.

‘Happy birthday, Seok-ah.’

Hoseok is only frozen for a moment, his eyes quickly darting over the decorations, before he throws himself at Yoongi, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Yoongi chuckles, hugging Hoseok close, breathing in his scent. Yoongi can feel all of Hoseok’s happiness in the way he clings to Yoongi, in how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

He whispers, ‘Thank you, hyung,’ and Yoongi knows he made him really happy, and that makes Yoongi so fucking happy too. This is all he wanted, all he wants. A happy Hoseok.

After Hoseok has gone through all the decorations and shrieked several times about how amazing it all is, Yoongi brings out the cake from the fridge and lights the 2 and 1 candles. He brings the cake over to the couch, where Hoseok has settled down, and Yoongi sings him happy birthday. Hoseok claps along, and then blows out the candles. He bites the underside of both and makes a wish.

As Yoongi slices the cake, Hoseok can’t stop smiling, his legs bouncing with joy. He repeats, ‘This is really great, hyung. Thank you.’

‘You deserve even more than this. When we have a proper place-’

‘You’re thinking about that? Us having a proper place?’

Yoongi lifts up the haphazardly cut slice of chocolate cake and places it in on one of the plates he grabbed from the cabinet. He shrugs. ‘Of course. We’ll- probably live together for some time. We’ll get a two-bedroom apartment and it will be nice.’

Hoseok nods. ‘That does sound nice.’

Hoseok doesn’t sound weirded out, which is a good thing. Yoongi feels relieved he’s not the only person who thinks it would be a good idea. That would be an awkward conversation for them to have during Hoseok’s birthday.

They eat the cake, and Hoseok says three times the cake is really good, which Yoongi is very relieved about. He knows Hoseok likes chocolate chip ice cream, but they didn’t have the chocolate mint cake available, so Yoongi opted for regular chocolate cake. Maybe next year he can get the other kind, which Hoseok would probably prefer.

They drink beer to quench their thirst and cut the sickly sweetness of the cake. Hoseok leans back on the couch once he’s done, and he rubs his belly. ‘I’m stuffed.’

‘Same.’ Yoongi places his plate on the coffee table, and he stands awkwardly. He doesn’t know when it would be a better time to do this. He supposes this is as good of a time as any.

He goes into his nightstand’s bottom drawer and he takes out the item. He turns around to Hoseok, the younger’s eyes tracking his movements, and he smiles. ‘A birthday is not complete without a gift, is it?’

Hoseok’s mouth opens in shock again. He goes to say, ‘Hyung, you- you shouldn’t-’

‘None of that nonsense.’ Yoongi sits down on the couch again. He hands Hoseok the small box, his palms clammy. Hoseok takes it in his hands like just the wrapping paper in itself is a precious gift. Yoongi doesn’t rush him as the younger takes his time carefully unsticking the tape holding the stripped wrapping paper together, not that it takes very long because Yoongi is not very good at wrapping gifts.

Hoseok pulls the paper away and he almost gasps when he see the marbled navy texture of the cardboard box. ‘Hyung, this is- this is so insane.’

Hoseok lifts the lid, and nestled into the padded beige pillow is a silver pendant. It’s a still imagine of a flame, drawn in thick lines. Hoseok looks at Yoongi with sincere wide eyes, and Yoongi smiles.

‘I saw it, I thought it was perfect for you.’ Yoongi says. ‘You’re going to be a great arsonist. I don’t know what you’ll do with it, but you’ll be amazing.’

Tears well in Hoseok’s eyes and he wipes them quickly with the back of his hand. He looks at the pendant, feels it with his thumb like he can’t quite believe it’s real, and he reaches behind his neck to undo his silver chain. He slides the pendant through the chain, and he looks at Yoongi again. ‘Can you put it on for me?’

Yoongi nods. He takes the chain from Hoseok’s hands, Hoseok turns around and Yoongi places the necklace carefully around Hoseok’s neck. He’s careful to not touch Hoseok’s warm skin as he slots the small hoop back on the clasp.

‘All done. I got this in stainless steel because the lady told me that it lasts longer. I hope she wasn’t bullshitting me.’

Hoseok faces Yoongi again and reaches for the pendant, smooths it against his chest. The silver catches the moonlight outside, and it contrasts perfectly against Hoseok’s bronze skin. The pendant looks like it always belonged on the chain, just like Yoongi hoped.

‘How does it look?’

Yoongi has to swallow back his heart as he says, ‘It looks great. Really great.’

***

Hoseok and Yoongi stand outside smoking. It’s almost midnight and it will soon not be Hoseok’s birthday anymore. Yoongi finds himself wishing it could’ve lasted longer, even if it’s not his own birthday. There is always next year, though, and next year it will be even more special.

Hoseok takes a drag from the cigarette, and he says, ‘Today was really amazing. Thank you.’

Yoongi nods. ‘You’re welcome. I’m glad it was.’

‘I didn’t really get these things when I was younger.’

‘I know. I want you to have them now.’

Hoseok nods, a smile playing along his mouth. His lips wrap around the end of the cigarette, and he inhales. His new pendant hangs from his neck as he leans over the rail, and Yoongi can’t stop looking at it, at Hoseok. It feels so special for Hoseok to wear something Yoongi got him, so visibly too, and maybe- did he get it because it would be special? He doesn’t even know. He should know, but he always squashes these feelings too deep down to really analyse them. Right now is not a good time to start analysing them.

He feels Hoseok look at him, and then the younger says, ‘Can I tell you something?’

Yoongi smiles. ‘Of course you can. Anything at all.’

Hoseok looks between Yoongi’s eyes, tracing his features. His profile is half lit by the moon and half lit by Yoongi’s orange nightstand light. It makes it look like Hoseok is the sun and the moon, everything at once.

‘I- I don’t see you as a brother.’

Yoongi is surprised by the statement. He doesn’t know what to say, so he says the most mediocre thing ever: ‘Okay.’

‘I just- I will pay my own share of the bills soon, whether you like it or not. And the groceries too. I know you’re planning to buy food on your own so I don’t have to pay and I won’t let you. And I- I’m twenty-one now. I’m not a kid.’

‘I know that.’

‘Good, because you- I think you always feel like you have to take care of me, but you don’t.’

Yoongi stands up straight, feeling uneasy and embarrassed. ‘Did you not like today?’

Hoseok straightens as well. He shakes his head with determination. ‘No, I mean- I loved today! I really did- but you always- you always take care of me like you think I need help.’

‘We help each other, don’t we?’

‘That’s not- I-’ Hoseok sounds exasperated. He takes a deep breath, and he blurts, ‘You make me feel like things make sense.’

Yoongi stares at Hoseok. He doesn’t know if his feet are still holding him up because he can’t feel them. He can’t feel much of anything at all, not even his heartbeat in his chest. His eyes are focused on Hoseok’s scrunched-up face, and he doesn’t know what to feel, or what to think, or- ‘And I- I think you’re funny, and you’re so- nice. That’s the thing, you’re too nice. You’ve been looking out for me for a year, and you got me to finally quit sex work and you’re housing me and you just- you support me even I’m being so fucking annoying. You just-’

Yoongi feels his heart beat one time and then it’s gone again. Hoseok stares at him, and he says, ‘Don’t you get it?’

‘Get what?’

‘Are you really that stupid?’

‘I don’t-’

‘Don’t you- I mean, maybe I’m ruining everything right now, but the way you touched me at the party, the way you look at me sometimes, don’t you-’ Hoseok takes a deep breath, as if he’s searching for the right word, and then he concludes, ‘Don’t you like me?’

Good thing Hoseok breathes, because Yoongi can’t. They might as well tell him oxygen doesn’t exist anymore, because he can’t find it. His fucking lungs don’t even work anymore, he doesn’t work, his mind doesn’t work, his mouth- his tongue don’t work. Nothing works.

Hoseok takes a step closer. He places his free hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, and Yoongi’s skin begins burning like Hoseok is setting fire to him too. Hoseok sets him on fire with just those damn eyes.

‘Because I like you.’

Yoongi manages to say, ‘That way?’

‘That way,’ Hoseok breathes, his voice soft.

Yoongi stares for a moment. Then, he seems to regain consciousness because he re-discovers he has an arm and a hand that can move. He lifts them and he slowly touches Hoseok’s cheek. His skin is softer than he ever imagined, and it’s- cool from the late-night air, but also lovely and warm.

He touches Hoseok’s cheekbone, his jaw, his chin. The curve under his lip is just perfect for Yoongi to slide the tip of his thumb under. He’s so fucking perfect. So fucking perfect. Hoseok leans into the touch, flutters his eyes shut, and it’s so perfect. Hoseok is so beautiful.

‘We shouldn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘It won’t end well. We only have each other and it won’t end well.’

‘Hyung.’ Hoseok takes a step closer. He touches Yoongi’s neck, this thumb feeling the line down to his collar bone, and he whispers, ‘I would rather have you for one night and regret you than never have you. I- I can’t stop feeling this way about you. I tried, and I can’t.’

Hoseok leans forward, his forehead touching Yoongi’s. Yoongi closes his eyes, and soaks up the feeling, the closeness. In this position, he’s sure they’re breathing the same air, and he hopes they are. ‘You’re the only thing that makes sense to me.’

Yoongi inhales, exhales. When he inhales again, Hoseok’s lips are against his own. Yoongi closes his eyes and he savours the feeling of Hoseok’s lips on his, the scent of his cologne pressed so close, of Hoseok’s body against his, so warm and real and perfect and all Yoongi has wanted from the day he met him. Yoongi doesn’t know what to do at first, too in shock this is even happening in the first place, but he kisses Hoseok back the best he can, moving his lips and tasting his tongue, and he thinks he doesn’t really know why they weren’t doing this before. This is right. This is so right. Hoseok wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck and it’s the rightest thing he’s ever done in this life.

Hoseok moans softly and Yoongi wraps his arms around Hoseok’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Hoseok’s lips taste like cigarettes and chocolate and beer and Yoongi wants to devour him, have him forever, hear Hoseok say he wants him back a million times before he fully believes it. Yoongi is such an idiot and yet this amazing guy is kissing him, wanting more with him. Yoongi can’t fucking believe it.

‘Hoseok,’ Yoongi whispers against Hoseok’s lips. ‘Fuck, I like you so much. I like you so fucking much.’

Hoseok grins and he kisses Yoongi’s cheek, his jaw, his hand cupping the back of Yoongi’s head with a finesse and desire that is dizzying. ‘Then why were you being such an idiot about it?’

‘Because I want this to work out. This can’t go wrong, we don’t- and you- you were being so confusing-’

‘We trust each other,’ Hoseok says, cupping both of Yoongi’s cheeks in his hands. His eyes are intense as he stares at Yoongi and Yoongi can’t help but stare back. ‘I trust you with my life and I’ll always be loyal to you. This won’t go wrong. I promise.’

It’s hard to disagree with a pretty man who sounds so certain. Yoongi nods, and Hoseok crashes their lips together again, his hands clinging to Yoongi’s clothes and practically trying to tear them off his body. They find their way back inside the apartment in a very clumsy way that almost ends with Yoongi getting a concussion from hitting his head on the window, Yoongi loses his virginity to Hoseok in an affair that lasts for maybe ten minutes, and then they fall asleep in each other’s arms on Yoongi’s single bed, and they don’t let each other go. They don’t ever let each other go.

***

Thirteen years later.

Yoongi inhales deeply. Hoseok looks at him with a small smile sitting on his lips. He takes a puff from the cigarette and then returns it to Yoongi, who takes a drag as well.

‘This could be a good job,’ Yoongi says, looking over the proposition file. Yoongi is yet to meet the businessmen coming together to pay for this- collection of jobs, but just the brief seems good.

‘It’s a bit beneath me, isn’t it, boss? A couple building fires. I’ve done bigger.’

Yoongi chuckles. He hands the cigarette back to Hoseok, who stands up from Yoongi’s lap. He’s wearing that green pinstriped suit Yoongi loves, gifted to him on his thirty-fourth birthday. The sun streams in through the windows of Yoongi’s office and Yoongi can see the odd grey hairs growing in around Hoseok’s temples, how they stand out against his black hair. How he has gotten more beautiful with time, is something Yoongi will never understand.

‘It is beneath you. I can say no, if you’d like,’ Yoongi says, standing up as well. He takes another drag from the cigarette. ‘But one of the people involved in this project is Kim Seokjin. Ever heard of him?’

‘Hard guy to miss. He’s just been on the cover of Forbes at least twice.’

‘Exactly,’ Yoongi stands behind Hoseok and slips a hand under his blazer, feeling his stomach over his pressed white shirt. He hands Hoseok the cigarette and kisses his neck. Hoseok brings the cigarette to his mouth with his left hand, his wedding ring glinting in the sunlight. ‘It would be good to please him.’

‘It would. It would be good to please him.’ He turns around in Yoongi’s arms and smiles. He leans in, kisses Yoongi slowly, and whispers, ‘What do you want me to do, baby?’

‘I’d like you to take the job, sweetheart. Just to see where it goes.’

‘Then, I’ll do it,’ Hoseok says. He kisses Yoongi’s cheek and moves back to the desk, killing the cigarette. ‘Good thing you have an in-house arsonist, isn’t it.’

‘It’s rather convenient,’ Yoongi says, looking at the view of Seoul from the third-floor office. Sometimes he thinks about how much has changed since him and Hoseok were two kids smoking on the fire escape stairs. How much the views have improved.

‘Tell Namjoon to arrange a meeting. We’ll meet them before agreeing to anything.’

‘Of course.’

Hoseok buttons up his blazer and smiles, ‘See you for dinner tonight?’

Yoongi takes Hoseok’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles, right over the gold ring. ‘Of course. I’m cooking tonight.’

‘Perfect. Pho?’

‘If you want.’

‘That sounds perfect.’

Hoseok kisses Yoongi again and he walks out of the door. Yoongi knows he has a meeting with a supplier he must attend before he’s done for the day. Yoongi sits back down at his desk and he closes the file, placing it on the nearby tray. He has a good feeling about this job. With more connections under his belt, they can make more money, diversify.

Yoongi used to not know what Hoseok would even do with his arson skills. Now, he can’t imagine running a business without him. Can’t imagine a life without him either.

A life without Hoseok? Unimaginable. Completely unfeasible.

Min Yoongi is no one without Jung Hoseok.