Archive of Our Own

If you closed your eyes, it might go away — That’s what they said.

So Taehyung tried, lowering his lids, feeling the fatigue fade away as soon as darkness took over. His eyes opened and blinked a quick few times, part to re-focus on the man, part to confirm that it’s still there: a goddamn red string wrapped around said man’s right pinkie.

It moved with him, when he brought the water bottle to his lips, when he typed on the keyboard, when he tapped the pen on his forehead, thinking about an equation Taehyung wouldn’t understand even right-side up. A business major, Taehyung figured. Only them had that much math and words on the same page.

Leaning against his boyfriend’s flimsy shoulder, Taehyung shifted to have a better look at the stranger sitting one table away — a beautiful man studying by himself in the middle of the library. Clear eyes, milky complexion, lips that made the beauty industry envy, features that were the complete opposite of Taehyung’s sharp ones, as if to compliment each other. 

He closed his eyes again, lest the man catch him staring.

His name was Seokjin, Taehyung later learnt, as he was grabbing an orange juice from the vending machine, and his girlfriend was talking about her new economic class. When she waved to greet her supposed team leader, all Taehyung could see was the crimson thread around his finger.

The naked eyes cannot possibly see the string of fate — Taehyung wasn’t naive. That’s why he had to look and look and look, over and over again.

It’s mere convenience that they seemed to meet everywhere after that day in the library: Seokjin submitting assignments in the teacher’s office, where Taehyung sometimes helped with administrative tasks; Seokjin leaving a party as Taehyung walked in; sitting one table away in the cafeteria; enrolling in the same psychology class both for fun at one point; Seokjin hanging out at the book cafe where Taehyung worked part-time. 

Wherever he turned, whoever he’s with, he saw the string and Seokjin.

To Taehyung’s dismay, Seokjin wasn’t super active on social media, where he uploaded almost exclusively photos of food, and occasionally his friends — one with a heart-shaped smile who’s always with him on campus, and one with soft cheeks but sharp eyes who Taehyung didn’t recognize. 

One time, on a story re-post that Seokjin deleted almost immediately, Taehyung saw the string again, a flaming red, like a bloody vein, throbbing on his little finger. The thread was confirmed to set around that pinkie, unfading, permanent.

Said thread was hovering over Seokjin’s mouth to hide his shocked face, similar to everyone else’s in the cafe, as Taehyung’s newest romantic interest just threw a cup of water to his face. It was fine, he took off his coat already, and he could always borrow a spare uniform, although he shouldn’t have broken up with them at a workplace, or had his secret crush as an audience member.

Looking up from under wet hair, Taehyung saw the concern in Seokjin’s eyes, and the red thread moving away from his face onto his heart. It flew up and down, imitating the rapid beating of his heart. Did it beat like that when he saw Taehyung?

Seokjin was a regular that had spent countless nights and had innumerable refills in this cafe. Taehyung was there the whole time, answering to his raucous voice, listening in to his rehearsal presentation for class, or just, seeing him having fun. 

The nights made Taehyung wonder what else Seokjin would talk about outside of class, how he would look like waking up in the morning, his thoughts on modern monetary systems, and where he stood on the whole soulmate thing.

What started out as curiosity had grown into something he couldn’t really put a name to.

Jimin brought him to the inventory, handing him a dry towel before rushing out to somewhat clean the mess and apologized to the customers.

“What is their problem? It was just a break-up, you guys dated for two weeks, big fucking deal!” Jimin sighed as he returned and rumbled through the rackets to find a clean shirt for his friend. He didn’t even work here.

“They said I promised too much, that I love less than what I claim.”

“So? What did they expect? Who believed everything the other said 2 weeks into the relationship!?”

“Are you— Are you comforting me?”

“You’ll get your ass kicked when we get home. Don’t worry, Kim motherfucking Taehyung.”

Now that’s the Jimin he knew.

Taehyung wished he could be proud and say time had passed, that it had spanned out for at least 6 months since he first laid eyes on Seokjin. But it’d only been 3 months and there’d been around 4 partners, if we counted the water-splasher.

All was smitten. All sparked nothing within.

In Taehyung’s defense, he never wanted to toy with anyone’s feelings. The boy was a romantic, growing up witnessing their parents’ love for each other until his dad’s untimely death. He believed that certain people were bound together by a force that transcended time and space, and actively went hunting for his fated person.

The fact that he’s irresistible only made his quest easier.

Jimin was the first to confront him, being the object of his affection for nearly a year after they entered highschool. It took messy, nasty rumours about Jimin, and a talk that lasted for two whole days, but Taehyung finally figured it out — something platonic, more childhood friends than lovers.

Jimin was also the most wary one, only second to Taehyung’s mother, when they left for college. So they sat him down one day and made him swear, to be careful.

Taehyung took those words to heart, but arriving in Seoul, in a sea of pretty people, he couldn’t tell between initial physical attraction and love at first sight. Taehyung got a partner as soon as the first week, and proceeded to have many people coming in and out of his life, his bedroom in particular.

But the red thread reminded him of that advice. Seokjin. Seokjin made him cautious, for what was to come, for the feelings that when released, couldn’t be tamed. Seeing Seokjin around was a joy, but Taehyung wasn’t sure whether he was ready for a soulmate. It took everything to meet one, after all, stars aligned and all that stuff. 

“It’s getting cold and he still orders iced Americano.” He pondered aloud after washing up that night and Jimin had scolded him for inappropriate behaviors at public spaces. 

“That’s his choice, what can you do about it?” Jimin said, flicking through his watch-list.

“I’m just worried. He stays up late, he doesn’t eat on time, he must be prone to the cold. I’ve been reducing the ice in his cup whenever I can.”

“I don’t think that makes any difference, Taehyungie.”

“There’s nothing else I could do for him, though.”

Jimin was considering, if he flung the remote control really hard, it might hit Taehyung’s head and make him think for a second. But that would be dangerous, so he ended up throwing the meanest side-eye known to humanity.

“For fuck’s shake, Taehyung. You just broke up with someone. Give it time before simping over somebody else, will you?”

“What— It’s 2 weeks, you said it’s not a big deal!”

“You claimed you were struck by lightning the moment your hands met! Sounds like a big deal to me!”

Taehyung looked down at his feet, lips downturned into a pout. He slowly paced towards the couch and collapsed onto Jimin’s lap. “I really thought it was something.”

He did. He was over the moon, because it meant a chance of getting Seokjin out of his head.

It shattered before he knew it, though. Because it wasn’t love.

“The big deal is, you promised someone attention, while clearly having heart eyes for someone else. Do you understand?” 

“I’ll be more careful, Jiminie. I’ll be careful with him.”

“But I don’t get it. Why don’t you just ask him out if you’re this obsessed?”

“I’m not! I’m only curious!” Taehyung protested but didn’t answer. Jimin ruffled his hair and they exchanged easy banter until he fell asleep. 

“Your unwavering faith in love and its absurd manifestation is taking a toll on you, Taehyung-ah. I wish you had less rough days like this.” Jimin whispered to the night.

//

Taehyung thought long and hard about what his best friend said, asking Seokjin out and everything else. But that would mean talking to him; facing reality instead of the idea of a soulmate that Taehyung had built up solely from an imaginary string. That would mean admitting whatever feelings he had for Seokjin.

Taehyung could easily imagine holding his hand, feeling the texture of his skin, memorizing his reactions when Taehyung’s lips traced along his fingers, feeling the softness and how well they fit together. But—

Love didn’t feel like the right word. And Taehyung had bad memories whenever this happened. If things fell apart even with his supposed soulmate, what chance did he have in life?

Maybe it’d be okay with Seokjin. Because the thread looked thicker, deeper in color today, as was Taehyung’s growing urge to just go over there and kiss him senseless, right in the middle of the cafe. Maybe it’d be okay to let the string wrap around him as well; keeping him there, safe and secure.

Seokjin was studying with the seemingly only friend he had — Hoseok, if he remembered correctly. They were pulling yet another all-nighter, calling for a second refill already. After a while, Hoseok left to take a phone call, leaving the other alone to guard all of their belongings. 

Taehyung glanced at Seokjin’s pout and his quick hands scribbling down the note for their upcoming presentation. The string moved with him, as it always did, never faltered. Feeling a burst of adrenaline, probably from the late night caffeine, and the prep talk Jimin had been feeding him, Taehyung slipped into the booth.

He prayed, this time at least, please let him love Seokjin. It must be Seokjin, right? Otherwise what’s the point of the red string? Right?

There was no welcome or hello, just Seokjin’s wide eyes and stilled hands.

You could argue what Taehyung did was far from careful, and he would agree. He didn’t know what he was doing, where he was going with this. At least, he comforted himself, he had a topic of conversation in mind — the only certainty that he knew of.

“Hey, Seokjin-ssi, right? I see you here all the time, and I’m sorry if this is rude but I just want to say I really like your tattoo.”

It’s way past midnight. The cafe that was bustling half an hour ago had sunk into silence. Behind them came fussy whispers from a group of freshmen that’d been following Taehyung around since the news broke that he’s single once more.

He didn’t hear them. He only knew Seokjin.

Taehyung saw Seokjin touching the red tattoo on his little finger out of sheer awkwardness and wanted to pull his own hair out. Wrong place, wrong time, again. But then he saw his smile and there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

“Can you tell Hoseok that? He’s bitching about it nonstop.”

“Really?” His voice came out like a tune, more flirty than he had intended. “What’s there to bitch about a pretty tattoo on such a pretty hand?”

He could hear Seokjin scoff a bit, but paid no mind because Seokjin was looking down and biting back a smile and the red thread was so inviting and Taehyung had to refrain from touching him then engulfing him whole.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but, are you hitting on me?”

“I didn’t mean to, but can’t help it.” He smiled, drawing out squeals from the table of freshmen nearby. “You’re so tempting.”

He saw Seokjin sit up then lean right in, invading his personal space, but didn't find enough strength in him to back away. The man for whom he had been pining for the better part of this semester was looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and a smile men would kill for. He heard gasps coming from the admirers. Their screeches were for Seokjin, he’s sure.

“Mmhmm?” Seokjin purred, “What will happen? How long are you gonna date this one?”

Forever, he wanted to say, but decided to seal his lips. It scared people off. They never believed him anyway.

“Why don’t we find out? And maybe you could tell me, if I’m the one on the other end of that thread.” A smile crept onto his face. His words were sincere, they always were.

In this proximity Taehyung could count Seokjin’s eyelashes, and noticed the small dimple that appeared when he bit his lips. Careful, confident, full of knowing.

“Taehyung-ssi, listen,” Seokjin whispered. “You have a harem sitting just 5 feet away. I’m gonna save you that date and tell you right now that I’m not looking for a relationship, and definitely not with someone of your— reputation.” He glanced at the group of freshmen.

“Even if you could be, in fact, my soulmate.”

With that, Seokjin leaned back against the chair, peering at Taehyung's dumbfounded face with the kindest eyes. Taehyung’s lips felt dry, like the first layer of skin had shrunk and was about to fall off. As was his face, his heart.

“However,” Seokjin continued, “if you like to hang out as friends, that I’d be willing to try. I heard you like games. No one has been able to beat me, but—” he paused to scoot closer to Taehyung’s face again. “Maybe leave your harem at home.”

This time Taehyung backed away a little.

It shouldn’t hurt this much.

He thanked the other for his time and disappeared into the back room, where no tear came out even though every cell in his body was burning.

Seokjin was just a boy he practically didn’t know.

His chest felt hollow with an unborn grief and there’s a loud ringing in his ear.

Just one boy, that was heavier than the heaps of people who showed romantic interest in Taehyung. Just a one-sided crush that felt like a smash on his heart. 

The pull was too strong, he reckoned, so when you cut off the string, your soul chipped away.

//

Taehyung didn’t let that game hangout happen. 

They still ran into each other anywhere and everywhere, but stayed feeble acquaintances with waves and nods as greetings; now with an understanding between them, which was Taehyung’s embarrassment.

Whenever Seokjin raised his hand, Taehyung saw the thread and stumbled over as his heart fell to the ground.

“This is ridiculous, Taehyungie.” Jimin exclaimed one day. His friend hadn’t gotten out of bed for three consecutive weekends and refused to talk to anyone, including their professors and his employer. “He can’t have this much effect on you. Impossible.”

Jimin plopped down on his bed, head somewhere on one of Taehyung’s thighs. He stayed quiet for so long, Jimin was ready to leave.

“I’m ashamed, Jimin-ah.”

The silence encouraged him to continue.

“Soulmates or not, destined or not, I wasn’t good enough for him. I mean no harm, but my behaviors that accumulate to this day tell him otherwise.

“Because I was too eager. I wanted to love, to find ‘the one’ so much I ended up hurting other people, and when Seokjin actually showed up, it went and bit me in the butt.”

Jimin darted up from the bed, looking at his now-teary friend and moving closer to hold him. Taehyung was grateful. He didn’t have to deal with all the angry exes alone thanks to Jimin, who bared his teeth and chased them away. 

He wished everyone had a Jimin in their lives — they could’ve been protected against Taehyung.

“Do you still think he’s ‘the one’?” Jimin asked, patting his hair. Taehyung nodded hurriedly, as if it’s the only thing he knew.

“This is insane. What do you know about him? Are you in love with him?” He asked again. Taehyung didn’t have an answer.

“Prove you’re a changed man, then. You can’t expect true love and mop around forever.” Jimin sighed, lying back down. “If it helps I think there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re a strange one, but kind, not evil or anything.”

“Thanks Jiminie. I know you think I’m disgusting.” Taehyung reached out to pinch his cheeks.

“Sometimes. Except for some sunbaes, everyone I met has slept with you. It makes conversation a bit awkward.” His laugh sounded a little bitter.

Taehyung recalled the silly infatuation he used to have on his best friend, how Jimin attended the college’s dance club but had never brought anyone back to their apartment, how he often came home to Jimin’s falling asleep alone on the couch, how people whispered when they walked together.

Taehyung feared the same for Seokjin, so why was he letting it happen to his best friend?

“I’m sorry.” It made Jimin roll over to look at him. “I’m gonna change, I swear. I’m gonna control myself, think before I act, be careful as Ma told me to. And I want you to know it’s not for Seokjin but for you, Jimin-ah. I’m gonna be a decent friend and make your life easier as I should.”

Jimin patted his hair again, appreciative. He knew the words were sincere.

Thus, started the Withdrawal Ceremony, where Taehyung concealed himself from wherever there was a chance of someone hitting on him or vice versa, as if it hadn’t begun since Seokjin rejected him already; Taehyung returned many love letters, confessions and propositions, from pretty people, with an apologetic grin.

No one was prettier than Seokjin, but Taehyung didn’t have enough manpower for that tug of war between feelings, embarrassment and whatnot.

He spent time studying at home instead of the library, traded hours at the cafe for tasks at the teacher’s office, bidding goodbye to parties and bars. He prefered to eat at the cafeteria though, because he didn’t fuss over food and that remained the only place where he could run into Seokjin.

As the semester progressed, things got a little too hectic, Taehyung found time spent alone invaluable. In turn, he pushed Jimin into the world, encouraged him to take as many field activities as possible, offered his expansive network for Jimin’s perusal and on top of everything, took care of him when needed, be it meals, clothes or cuddles.

“You looked the part before, but I think it’s fair to say you’re boyfriend material.” Jimin said once, mouth full of japchae that he swallowed quickly, with the help of a glass of orange juice Taehyung made.

“My mom made it. I only heat it up.” He smiled, clearing the plates away. “Now go. Have fun at the tournament.”

“Of course! Hoseok-hyung is leading the crew tonight. I’m only a spectator now but he said in half a year I can be in competition!”

“Hoseok-hyung? Is that—”

“Seokjin-hyung’s friend. Didn’t I tell you?”

He most certainly did not, and it showed on Taehyung’s face. 

“Oops. My bad.” Jimin snickered, the mischievous way he used to when they were little. “Hyung’s such a fun person to be around. And you know what, you’re exactly his type!” Then he disappeared behind the door.

Hyung. Jimin called him hyung, while Taehyung was still tending to his broken heart.

It’s unfair, Taehyung thought, because he did not to have the privilege of a whole conversation, only glimpses of Seokjin’s life, only one second of them coincidentally meeting everyday: him smiling whenever they made eye contact, him guiding the parents around campus, him laughing with Hoseok when they prepared their group presentation, him running past Taehyung with lighting speed in messy hair and wrinkled sweatpants.

It’s unfair because his eyes were still naturally drawn to Seokjin, could always spot the fluffy hair and the playful eyes in a crowd. But what did Seokjin know about him? Did he even want to know? 

And yet, his heart ached for him — the kind of pain Taehyung wanted to hold onto for as long as possible.

Sometimes, just sometimes, when someone kept goggling at him, for everyone in the cafe, including Seokjin to see, Taehyung looked down at his pinkie, considering, but quickly squatted away the thought — it would be weird if he got inked. 

When he deemed himself worthy, with the help of either caffeine or alcohol, or perhaps Jimin, Taehyung might gather enough courage to talk to Seokjin again. 

//

One night, when winter break was a week away, Taehyung was both excited to go back home and devastated of not being able to— be near Seokjin for nearly a month. He zoned out in the middle of packing with no lights on, didn’t even flinch at the sound of door opening, switch flickering or people talking.

“Taehyung-ah, we have guests.” Jimin announced to Taehyung’s crouched back, which quickly straightened then headed to his room.

“Godammit Jimin, I do not want to date anyone right now. How many times do I have to tell you?” He shouted to chase the strangers away, whoever they might be.

Jimin had been introducing new people to help him get over that stupid crush, people from another campus, from the nearby neighborhood or someone from the dance club. Taehyung spared them no chance, not even a glance. The red string had binded him in, pulled him back to Seokjin wherever he went, even tied itself with a pretty little bow.

“No, listen—”

“For the last time I don’t care how hot they are I only have eyes for one—”

Jimin wanted to scream before Taehyung could slam the door shut, or embarrassed himself any further, but one of his guests beated him to it.

“Taehyung-ssi! I haven’t seen you around!”

Seokjin’s gleeful yet cautious voice made Taehyung stop dead in his tracks. He turned back in slow motion, with wide eyes and thumping loud heartbeats.

That meant I missed you.

“Hoseok-hyung was craving for something sweet, and I told him about your mother’s red bean mochi, thinking we can squeeze one in for dinner.” Jimin explained in a rush.

At the mention of his name, Hoseok bowed down to greet Taehyung, whose quick glances at Seokjin couldn’t escape his hawk eyes.

“I told my friend to tag along, I hope it’s okay?” He said with a smile, all friendly and warm. Taehyung looked amongst the three — an apologetic Jimin, an excited Hoseok, and an innocent Seokjin.

“We also have another national treasure,” he gulped, striding to the cupboard and taking out a gigantic bottle of liquid, “my mom’s sikhye.”

Jimin sighed in relief, and their guests moved inside to place the takeouts on the dining table. Seokjin asked if they had any video games, then challenged Taehyung to a match of karts racing.

Taehyung blushed through the whole exchange, because it meant Seokjin remembered everything and Taehyung getting rejected was the only thing they had in common.

If he blushed because Seokjin was eating in pout and his eyes sparkled when Taehyung said he could take home some of the sikhye, please don’t tease him more than Jimin would already do.

If he blushed because he was squished between Seokjin and Jimin while playing video games, please ignore it because his heart would burst any moment now.

Sitting on the floor, legs crossed, half of Seokjin’s knee was somehow on Taehyung’s lap, because Seokjin needed to sit directly across the screen or he wouldn’t shut up about it when he lost, and Jimin refused to move any further to the cold window, even though it’s closed and the heater was on.

Jimin didn’t want the smug smile off his face, either.

Hoseok was the only one sitting properly on the couch, texting, occasionally doing commentary on the games and making them laugh, giggling as they had fun.

Taehyung wouldn’t call this “fun,” because if Seokjin lost and outstretched his arm across the couch, and by accident touched Taehyung’s shoulder again, he might actually comburst. His cheeks felt so hot he might have to rub ice on it. His chest ached and he couldn’t feel it by the last game.

So he let him win, and Seokjin jumped up, tiny fists punching the air in excitement. Everyone could see the fond smile blooming on Taehyung’s face, though hidden under feigned frustration.

Later that night, when the guests were ready to leave, snow fell — the first of the season. The boys raced towards the window to marvel at the lovely sight, while Taehyung rushed to his bedroom to get a long padded coat and shoved it in Seokjin’s hands, which were busy with two bottles of sikhye.

When he refused, Taehyung wrapped it around Seokjin and zipped up, not taking no for an answer this time.

Jimin smirked at him when the door closed, but he didn’t care. He sat down and got back to packing, whistling his favorite song the entire time.

His mother texted Jimin to ask what happened, because Taehyung had been skipping, not walking; singing, not talking; surprisingly clingy and emotional ever since he got home for winter break, and Jimin could only leave it at “he met someone.”

Her worry took another turn, when towards the end of the break, Taehyung got unusually somber.

//

If you closed your eyes, it might go away — That’s what they said.

So Taehyung tried again, rubbing his eyes with the back of his free hand this time, the other warm inside his pocket, hefty with his mom’s groceries.

Maybe he had gone insane. Maybe the days and nights thinking about Seokjin had tricked his mind. Random faces on the street had finally morphed into a perfect resemblance of the man of his dream. 

But there it was, that damn red string, on the little finger of none other than Kim Seokjin himself. 

On a bench, looking out to the beach, Seokjin quietly munched on a steaming corn dog, the red thread peeking from under his sweater paw. Taehyung couldn’t help but stare — he was wearing Taehyung’s coat, with Taehyung’s full name embroidered in red thread.

The wind ruffled Seokjin’s hair. His cheek puffed up as he chewed, lips glistened with residue grease and sauce. Taehyung pulled up the scarf, hiding his nose from the breeze. He watched as Seokjin folded the box and put it away in a plastic bag, then took out some wet tissue to wipe his mouth and hands.

His lips were naturally pink. Damnit.

When Seokjin was looking around for a waste basket, their eyes met. Seokjin’s stunned face slowly stretched into a soft smile, mirroring Taehyung’s pleasantly surprised expressions.

“How are you everywhere?”

I could ask you the same, Taehyung thought.

“I'm in some places. I grew up here, though.” He strode forwards, standing in front of Seokjin. He would prefer sitting next to him, but the thought of a rock bench on a winter day made his butt shiver. Seokjin’s lap looked nice, though.

“It must be fun living so close to the beach.” Seokjin pocketed his hands. Taehyung remembered how warm they felt against his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just, hanging out.” He looked a little defeated. “Hoseok mentioned something about Geoje once or twice. Thought I’d check it out.”

“Alone? On a 5-hour drive?”

“I took a bus…”

“And what do you think?” asked Taehyung, using his whole body to gesture towards the sea, the town, the gloomy winter sky.

“Wet, and stormy.” Seokjin whined. “An idiot would come here alone.”

Taehyung chuckled, feet dancing to ward off the chills. Seokjin should be fine, he’s wearing Taehyung’s nicest coat anyway.

“You have a friend here?”

“Not really.”

“Oh you’re renting a place then?” Taehyung was relieved.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well the last bus to Seoul was,” he checked his phone with a shaky hand, “an hour ago, you have no friend’s to crash, so I assume you’re staying in a hotel or something.”

“The last bus? It’s only 6:30 PM?

“Well it’s winter, and this is not Seoul, Seokjin-a-ssi.” He slipped. “My uncle runs a hotel that way, it’s small but cheap and convenient. You may get a discount if you say we’re friends. Or…”

Taehyung took a long pause, in contrast to his jittering. The word “friends” stuck in his throat.

“Or?” Seokjin prompted. Taehyung bit his lips, swallowed it down.

“Or you can stay at my mom’s. My brothers are spending their breaks somewhere warm so we have spare rooms.”

“Really? You would do that for me?” 

“I take friends home all the time. My mom loves a house full of people.” Taehyung was basically jumping up and down by now because of the cold. So when Seokjin hesitated, he had no patience left.

“Just get up and let’s gooooo.” He yelled, pulling Seokjin up by the arm and didn’t let go until they’re safe inside his childhood home. How could someone be soft and firm at the same time?

His mom screamed the moment there’s a click at the door. Her voice grew louder and louder as she stomped out from the kitchen, a yellow apron around her waist. 

“What took you so long!? Get in quickly and close the door! I can’t believe you forgot your coat in Seou—“

When Seokjin emerged from behind Taehyung, wearing said coat — the one she bought two winters ago, with her son’s name hand-sawn in red thread so that he wouldn’t lose it, she had a vague idea of who this stranger was.

At least her son was losing sleep over someone good-looking.

“Ma, this is my friend Seokjin. He kinda needs a place to stay tonight.” Taehyung announced with both hands on his mouth, blowing into them for warmth. Seokjin made a full bow to greet her, who rushed to his side and helped him in.

It’s too easy and bizarre, but that’s how Seokjin ended up in Taehyung’s mom’s kitchen, laughing out loud at her stories about Taehyung’s accidental perm when he was ten and how he kept it until puberty hit then she had to straighten it everyday.

They fed on Taehyung’s embarrassment, it seemed, as the stories went on and on well past midnight, until Seokjin yawned and excused himself, retreating to the guest room.

“He’s a nice one. Keep him. I like him.” She commented as her son did the cleaning.

“He isn’t interested, ma. I got rejected already.” Taehyung smiled. The hurt felt a bit duller.

“You’re telling me, the boy wearing your clothes, coming to your hometown, to your house on a minus degree day, who talked nothing of himself but kept asking about you, isn’t interested in you?” She said with half a smile that Taehyung was sure Jimin had picked up somewhere along the line.

“Keep him as a friend, then.” She suggested, although she figured it would be hard. Her eldest son took after his father, from the sharp jawline, the rectangular smile to the glint in his eyes when looking at his beloved. She got an idea how deep he was in.

“I was worried when you left for Seoul.” She admitted. Taehyung could tell she wanted to fill the silence. “Jimin grew up with you but the boy gotta have his own life. Whether you can make friends, whether you feel lonely — I was concerned.”

Maybe he did. Maybe that’s why he jumped from one relationship to another.

“Surround yourself with people like Seokjin, and you’ll make it a lot easier for you and I both.” His mother smiled, easing his troubles. “Even for Jimin. That boy’s an older brother you never had.”

The word Taehyung swallowed bloomed in his chest. Friends.

“Now tell me,” she sat up, chin perched on her hands, eyebrows wiggling. Taehyung did not want to know if Jimin taught her that, or vice versa. “How’d you meet?”

“Well, first he is handsome.” His voice came out tiny and hoarse.

“Agree.”

“And I might’ve thought he’s my soulmate.”

“Because of the tattoo?” She sneered. Her silly, innocent boy.

“Yes. But he turned me down so I guess that’s not it, right?”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“You know more about soulmates than I do. You married yours! I’ve always wanted a love story like that.” Taehyung pulled out a chair and sat across from his mom.

“Like mine and your dad’s?”

“Yes?”

“The stupid one who mistepped and left his wife behind with three children? That’s the story you wanted?” They laughed. It’s amazing how they could joke about the accident now.

“You know what I mean.” Taehyung held her hands.

“I do,” she squeezed back, “but didn’t you know I don’t believe in soulmates?”

“What? But dad always said you were his!?” His eyes widened, thinking back about the bedtime stories, the endless tales his dad boasted when he was little. “It was love at first sight and you still love him till this day!”

“Is that what he told you?”

Taehyung nodded, scared that his mother’s following words would shatter his whole belief system.

“Oh honey… It was not love at first sight, although objectively speaking, your dad was very attractive.”

“But he said—”

“I may need to dig up his grave to confirm this but the point is, Taehyung-ah, we worked hard, as friends then as lovers then as husband and wife then as parents. This conversation alone proves how different me and your dad were. 

“But he was worth every ounce of the hardest work in the universe for me. You too, Taehyung-ah. You’re the best son a mother could ask for, even though you put who you love first and yourself second, even though you remind me so much of your stupid dad.

“If a soulmate means someone who loves you and does their best to see ‘your soul,’” she airquoted with both hands. “Then I agree, we were soulmates, and so are you and me, so are you and Jimin. If Seokjin doesn’t fall into that group, he isn’t yours.

“But the idea of a fated person, I don’t really buy it.”

Taehyung exhales loudly, covering his face with both hands. His own mother, the one his dad swore was his destiny in every lifetime, wasn’t a believer.

“You think he cares for me?” he asked. She’s still his mother, single-handedly raised the three of them, and knew him better than himself.

“He does. And you sure feel something for him. You’re both half way there already.” She stood up to pour herself a glass of water, gave a gentle kiss to his temple then headed to her room.

There wasn’t even enough time for Taehyung to piece together his thoughts, because his mom’s loud voice was already echoing from somewhere down the hall.

“Seokjin! Sweetheart! What are you doing up so late? Oh water? Taehyung’s in the kitchen. Tell him to get some for you, okay? Goodnight, dear.”

That left Taehyung a whole 15-second to re-compose himself before Seokjin staggered into the room, face swollen and eyes puffy, wearing Taehyung’s sweatpants and a thin shirt.

You’re gonna catch a cold, he scolded in his head.

//

Taehyung doesn’t go away, Seokjin has learnt.

No matter how often he tries to close his eyes, or just blatantly ignores his existence.

A little like how as a little kid, he thought the moon was following him everywhere. It might hide behind a building, get clouded or disappear for a day or two, but the moon’s never gone.

Same with Taehyung, who is 3 years his junior but runs into him almost every single day.

Not even once has Seokjin thought Taehyung would be leaning on his shoulder like this, sleeping and drooling onto his coat. Well, Taehyung’s coat to be precise, so he doesn’t really mind.

Seokjin can barely feel his upper body. They still have about 4 hours left until Seoul.

Taehyung’s hand rests on the seat, palm down, exactly 5 millimeters away from his. The red tattoo drapes across Taehyung’s little finger, but Seokjin blinks and it’s blank again, only his body heat remains.

“I like winter.” Seokjin said when they first got on the bus, while they hadn’t said a word to each other in the morning, just polite exchanges with Taehyung’s mother.

“You like the cold, don’t you? Coming to the beach in the middle of winter like that.” Taehyung noted, scurrying in next to Seokjin, who was given the window seat.

“How about you?” He asked, trying to keep a conversation going.

“I like summer, which is ironic because I was born in winter.” He said, but they knew it already. His mother mentioned it countless times, in almost every embarrassing story she could remember. 

Seokjin is grateful that Taehyung revives the talk, although seemingly small and meaningless.

“I like the color yellow.” 

“I like blue.”

“Hmm, unique.” He sneered.

“Like yellow is so original.” Seokjin bit back.

“I like Overwatch and uh… trumpet.”

“Maple Story and piano.”

“Fried chicken and beer.”

“Sushi and soju.”

“Hmm, classy.”

“Thanks. Yours is lovely.”

Seokjin can’t tell, but Taehyung’s heart is thumping hard in his chest. A rush of blood paints his cheeks and nose red, but Seokjin blames the cold.

He does misjudge a lot.

At the cafe, Seokjin thought Taehyung meant nothing when he asked him out. At his apartment, Seokjin thought they could hang out as friends. At any given time and place in the past, Seokjin thought Taehyung was just looking for a pastime.

But then Taehyung went and lent him a coat while he himself couldn’t stand the cold. And not just any coat, Seokjin didn’t know the full story, but something with his name embroidered on it couldn’t be anything but precious.

After receiving nothing but kindness from Taehyung, and giving back none, after eavesdropping on him and his mom, being handed not only a warm cup of water but a whole bottle to keep in his room, Seokjin had to reconsider whatever that he knew of Taehyung.

Taehyung that was like the moon; campus’ infamous playboy, rumored to have conquered each and every professor during his first year; one that Seokjin rejected at 2 in the morning, now sleeping next to him on the backseat of an almost too run-down bus. He was warm, and slept like a log.

Taehyung from Jimin’s stories; the boy who sneaked his friend out at night for dance practice and took the blame when they got caught, even though he didn’t dance; Taehyung who put a blanket over Jimin whenever he found him sleeping on the couch; Taehyung who vowed to change, and kept his promise, even though he was already full of love.

Taehyung who disappeared after that night at the cafe. Taehyung who sat alone in his apartment saying he didn’t want to date anyone, that he only had eyes for one— 

“How did you get that tattoo, if you don’t mind?” He has stirred awake at some point, head refusing to leave Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Because of my soulmate.”

“You found your soulmate?” He inquires in a monotone. If Taehyung’s face drops, Seokjin can’t see it.

“I found a soulmate.” Seokjin corrects. “I was in love, but to him it’s platonic, like the best of best friends. He got into a relationship just a day after telling me that. And me being my stupid self, I got this tattoo because I belived sooner or later he would come back to be.”

Taehyung stays silent. Too silent. Like his heart stops beating. Seokjin doesn’t like the thought.

“He didn’t. It took a while to find the way but we’re still the best of friends, still soulmates. This tattoo doesn’t have anything to do with him anymore. Just something I did for myself, as my romantic soulmate is somewhere out there. Sometimes it feels like I did my part. Like, I got this, where are you? Come see this? Come and take me?”

Seokjin chuckles quietly. The sound gets drowned out by the running engine. Taehyung hears him anyway. Their pinkies are touching now. The younger one, the cheekier, has dragged his finger onto the other’s.

To Seokjin’s eyes, it looks just right. It does feel right.

“What were you doing on your own in Geoje though?”

“Um, existential crisis?”

“I get that too. Seoul helps.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Seokjin contemplates. He doesn’t touch this topic with other people unless it’s Yoongi or his brother. But seeing their fingers intertwined, though faintly, maybe he should give other people a chance. Give Taehyung a chance.

So he pours his heart out to the fluffy hair on his shoulder, whispering so that no one else could hear, about how terribly hopeless the world is sometimes, about his loneliness and the yearning for someone without a face, about his tattoo and his naivety.

When he finishes, Taehyung is squeezing his right arm tightly, pulling them closer together, fighting the drowsiness away.

“I’m here hyung, and I’m as silly as you are. You’re not alone. Worry your pretty head no more…”

Seokjin chuckles; half-asleep but he still manages to smooth in a compliment. Seokjin uses his other arm to pat Taehyung’s hair, murmuring a lullaby, luring the boy to sleep.

//

There isn’t much to remember about their five-hour bus ride, because Taehyung slept the trip away. But waking up to a blushing Seokjin, leaning against him with their hands clinging to one another isn’t a bad experience at all.

He does recall hearing the melody to his favorite song, not knowing where it comes from. While Seokjin’s worries are stored in a tea bag inside his heart, seeping into him, so that he understands better what Seokjin means behind the cheerful facade.

And as much as Taehyung believes in the grand scheme of things, he is actively taking steps towards what he wants.

He texts Seokjin sometimes, wonders aloud when they can meet, although he waits outside of lecture halls for him everyday.

They start having lunch together in the cafeteria, carefree and flirty despite outsiders’ scrutiny. Taehyung’s outgoing personality clashes with Seokjin’s, making the elder all flustered and awkward but he accepts it all.

As Seokjin starts working on his thesis, Taehyung begs his mother for more cooking tips, so that there’s a warm homemade dinner whenever Seokjin drops by after school. Taehyung sneaks in a muffin to his table during all-nighters. Taehyung gives him a massage and lets him sleep on his bed after a rough review from his professor.

The elder is— stunned, so to speak. He knows about Taehyung’s kindness and boldness, but not his sweet spoiling. Taehyung asks for a kiss as a thank you, but instead Seokjin promises to visit his mom once it’s all done.

One evening Jimin comes home to the two of them asleep on the couch, cuddling. He almost wants to throw cold water at them, but instead pulls a blanket over them, like Taehyung always does for him.

On one day where there are only the two of them in the library, a day where Seokjin cannot sit straight or look him in the eyes, Taehyung helps him close the book and ease him into talking about whatever that is bothering him. Seokjin feels their proximity as Taehyung whispers in his ears, coaxes and sweet nothings.

“There was a girl who went to talk with me the other day.” He sighed, voice unbearably soft. Taehyung, who has learnt to tune in with his way of speaking, barely catches it.

“And what did she want?”

“She was one of your exes.” Seokjin murmurs. “She saw how much time I’m spending with you and wanted to warn me… about you.”

Taehyung’s heart drops. People think Seokjin is another fallen victim to his charm, another prey in the trap. They don’t take Taehyung seriously. They assume the worst of him.

“What did she say, if you don’t mind?” Nonetheless, he wants to know the consequence of his actions, other than being rejected by the only one he ever loves.

“Just the usual,” Seokjin has the audacity to smile amidst Taehyung’s growing concern. But that’s okay because it’s his first and foremost priority anyway. “Heartless, manipulative, ego-centric, narcissistic, a liar, yada yada.”

Taehyung has nothing else to offer but a muted apology.

“I don’t think it’s me you should say sorry to. That’s like the third one this month.” Seokjin shakes his head, starting to scribble on draft paper again. 

“Still, I am sorry.” Taehyung sighs, hiding his face behind both hands. How many more does Seokjin not let him know? “I’ll browse through my contacts and apologize to them all.”

“No!” Seokjin hisses in a tiny voice. His whole body is facing Taehyung. “I’ll give you names of the ones that I met. Don’t bother with the rest. You’re just gonna bring up their wounds, then feel even worse about yourself.”

Taehyung nods then exhales loudly. His head is perched on the right hand, pinkie tapping on cheek. The other hand reaches out to hold Seokjin’s, fingers brushing on the red string.

“Do you think you deserve someone better?” He asks, eyes not daring to look at Seokjin.

The silent pause weighs heavy on his heart, but he’s been preparing himself for a day where Seokjin wants something more than a sleazy playboy. It’s been almost a year since they met, which is record-breaking for Taehyung already. As long as Seokjin doesn’t get hurt, he’ll be fine on his own, no matter how lonely and Seokjin-less.

“First of all, we’re not dating.” Seokjin begins, making Taehyung scoff. He tries to lift Seokjin’s hand up to kiss it, but is met with strong resistance. “We are amicable, physical friends, but we’re not dating.

“Second of all, you mean something to me too, don’t you know? Aren’t you the one insisting we’re soulmates? Do you really think something like this would break that bond?” He whisper-scolds, as they’re no more the only ones in the library.

“But I’m not a good soulmate.”

“Let’s bring this to Jimin and see what he has to say. We’ll roast you to hell and back.

“You did something wrong, and you’re trying to fix it. That alone means a lot to me, more than you know.” Seokjin continues, “I’m not a fool, Taehyung-ah. I will not settle for less than what I deserve. And I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

Seokjin doesn’t refuse Taehyung’s kisses on his hand this time. Not a word of complaint when Taehyung’s lips move to his forehead, then both of his cheeks and his mouth; painfully slow and sweet, even though there are people watching.

At the end of spring, Seokjin decides to rest a bit before diving into job-searching, taking that opportunity to go back to Geoje. If they are not hand-in-hand, Taehyung’s arm will wrap around Seokjin’s waist or on his shoulder, or Seokjin’s hand will rest on Taehyung’s thigh.

His mom presses on and on and on, but they don’t have an answer for whatever their relationship is. It makes her quite upset, but after talking it out with Jimin, she is more than capable of consoling Seokjin’s parents when they are pushed into the same bafflement.

On one evening, Seokjin walks into the cafe without telling Taehyung beforehand. Trailing behind is a man that Taehyung has never seen before, although the soft cheeks and sharp eyes do ring a bell. Flustered, like the first time they talked, Taehyung stutters when taking their orders.

When cleaning the table next to theirs, he overhears the name: Yoongi.

That man is The Soulmate. The best of best friends. The former love of the love of his life.

Yoongi is a force to be reckoned with. Everything on him is dark-colored, streetwear-designer, hypebeast and all that stuff. He listens to his friend attentively, only smirks at things he finds hilarious and has a subtle confidence that draws all eyes towards him. A string of dangling earrings makes him look desirable yet utterly unattainable.

They are sitting across from each other, arms on the table mirroring one another. A fitted-looking couple, Taehyung thought. What’s worse is Yoongi’s thin silver ring on his pinkie, making a perfect juxtaposition with Seokjin’s red tattoo on raw skin, looking so similar yet so different at the same time.

Seokjin nods along to his words, whatever that they’re talking about. And he laughs a lot. Taehyung loves his laugh, but when he isn’t the cause of it, the possessiveness pops out — a quality he thought he didn’t have.

Taehyung wants to sulk, but the one person who can sooth him is busy chatting with his world-renowned soulmate. So he puts on a poker face and stands behind the counter, glaring in silence.

They look like they can talk about the weather and drag out a deep conversation about climate change, then the space race, then the discrepancy between the rich and the poor, then how every circle of friends is a micro-society.

That’s supposed to be my job, Taehyung curses in his head, shoveling the ice for a milk tea.

“Taehyungie? Why the long face?” Hoseok comes in with a blooming smile on his face. “What’s bothering you on such a fine day?”

“You seem to be in a good mood. The usual?” He comments, printing the receipt for an Americano when the other nods.

“My baby’s coming back today! Ten months of touring and now he’s home!” He practically yells, pulling a baffled Taehyung in for a hug. “Anyway, is Jin-hyung here?”

“Yes.” He gestures with a hand. “He’s over there with—” 

“Honey!” Hoseok doesn’t let him finish, running towards Seokjin and Yoongi, latching onto the latter for a tight embrace. Yoongi laughs, really laughs, at his arms full of Hoseok, squeezing back just as tight. He looks… cute, Taehyung must admit. The gummy smile and crescent eyes erase his previously unapproachable image.

After a series of events, Yoongi somehow ended up on Hoseok’s lap, leaning close to his neck, purring. The two of them whisper god-knows-what to each other, giggling, like teenagers in love.

Taehyung is so marveled by the sight he almost doesn’t catch Seokjin’s staring at him. The elder smiles, gesturing with both hands at the lovebirds, who notice no one else but them.

Do you see how tired I am? Taehyung can hear Seokjin’s voice, and facepalms himself. He must be fine with it then, and comfortable with Taehyung enough to let him know.

When the two are distracted enough to regard Seokjin, he turns to them with a defeated sigh. His right hand rests on the table, the thread facing Taehyung, and he thinks that’s everything he could’ve wanted.

“Hey.” Seokjin comes up to his counter when the cafe dies down a bit, before they are to leave. “Your shift ends in an hour, right? Wanna grab some dinner?”

“Oh? Sick of my cooking already, darling?” Taehyung teases. The pet name rolls off his tongue almost too easily.

“How dare you? I just want to treat my baby to something nice.” It took a lot of time, but Seokjin is slowly getting on board with the affectionate nicknames.

“Aren’t you having dinner with them?” Taehyung jerks his head towards the table where Yoongi and Hoseok are putting on their coats, still holding hands.

“No. We won’t be seeing them for at least a week.”

“Wild.” He notes.

10 months. It’d be even worse for you and me. But before Seokjin can reply, Yoongi interrupts from behind his back.

“Is this the pretty boy that Jin-hyung turned down?” He asks, hands off Hoseok for once to put on his cap. “Can you believe how much free coffee he could get if he just lets someone love him?”

“That’s a strong word. You don’t even say it to me.” says Hoseok, glaring.

“Well, he looks like a strong guy who knows the game.” He turns to Taehyung. “Aren’t you?”

“I can be strong when needed.” He answers politely, prompting a smug twitch upon Yoongi’s face.

“Taehyung, right? I’ve heard so much about you. From them and everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung’s body tenses up, only Seokjin can see it.

“Your networking is almost as wide as mine.” Yoongi pulls another smirk.

Seokjin feels the need to intervene, before things take a sudden turn that none of them can save or adjust. But in the end, it’s him who steers them off the track, sending Taehyung’s heart racing, unretrievable like an aimed and shot arrow.

“Hey, I’m strong, too. Don’t you think? My love?”