#hq taehyung | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicshopaholic · 8 months ago

Text

Interlude: Hyung Line

The one where the three oldest members of the group find themselves in deep shit

Summary: Namjoon returns to see everyone in a crisis. Seokjin has a conversation with his girlfriend, while Hoseok wonders if he's going to lose his best friend. Meanwhile, Yoongi ruminates on an impulsive decision.

Pairing: OT3 x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Humour, fluff, angst

Word count: 11.2 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: It's been forever since I posted and I bring you... *an aftermath fic*!! Takes place the morning after A Stormy Night.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7 @confessionsofamarshlily @jiminjhang @xjoonchildx @tarahardcore @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids @whoisbts @jihopesjoint @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "dope lovers" by dpr ian

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

When Hoseok wakes up the next morning, it’s to slivers of sunlight through a soft mesh sort of thing on his face. He blinks and shifts slightly; it’s Chaeyoung’s hair, where his face was buried, and he squints towards the window where an apologetic looking sun has reared its head in the sky after a night of torrential rain.

He relaxes slightly; next to him, Chaeyoung hasn’t moved, her shoulders rising and falling peacefully with every breath she takes. His phone buzzes and he turns to reach for it.

Taehyung [08:45] Anyone need a ride to HQ? I’m leaving in a bit Although no one apart from Jungkookie seems to be in the dorm right now

Namjoon [08:48] I’ll reach on my own. I just got off a flight so I came to my apartment to take a shower.

Seokjin [09:00] I’ll reach on my own too.

Taehyung [09:01] Okay. Where were you last night?

Seokjin [09:01] Never you mind. I have my car.

Yoongi [09:02] Me too.

Hoseok stares at the screen, slowly licking his lips.

Hoseok [09:03] Me too.

Taehyung [09:04] This is not suspicious at all.

Jimin [09:04] I’m at my place with Sooah :D:D:D I’ll be there soon - but everybody don’t forget to be at the restaurant for her birthday lunch! No latecomers!

Taehyung [09:05] I take it your night turned out well after all?

Jimin [09:05] Yessss it did, god bless. I have the best girlfriend in the world - but I’ll tell you about it later. I mean it though - don’t be late for the lunch. Hobi hyung - you can bring Chaeyoung.

Hoseok stomach jolts.

Hoseok [09:06] That’s super random. She’s totally capable of coming on her own, you know? She’s not a kid anymore and I’m not responsible for her anyway.

Jimin [09:08] Errrr I meant because the roads are still a bit flooded so she may not want to walk to the bus stop. But I guess she can come on her own too.

Jungkook [09:09] I can pick her up on my way to the restaurant if you want, hyung.

Taehyung [09:09] You’re alive??? I knocked on your door at least twice last night but I heard nothing. I thought you died in there or something.

Jungkook [09:10] Oh yeah. I was really tired.

Taehyung [09:10] Lol, I’m sure.

Jungkook [09:10] @Namjoon How was your trip hyung?

Namjoon [09:11] Amazing Didn’t want to come back tbh

Jimin [09:11] That feels great to hear But I have a girlfriend now so I get it

Jungkook [09:12] Gross

Jimin [09:12] Don’t be bitter just because you’re single

Yoongi [09:13] Yeah go get laid instead

Taehyung [09:13] I still don’t know where half of you are though. How was everyone out last night despite that horrendous storm?

Namjoon [09:14] Yoongi hyung corrupting the children since 2013

Yoongi [09:14] Me? I think Hobi is doing enough of that for all of us

Hoseok [19:15] What! Of course not. Why even would you say that? What are you talking about

Yoongi [09:16] Sorry, I meant Seokjin

Seokjin [09:16] Errrrrrrr

Taehyung [09:16] I mean, is it me? Am I the lame one for having stayed home last night?

Yoongi [09:17] You were on your way to HQ last night, weren’t you?

Taehyung [09:17] No?

Yoongi [09:17] Not you

Namjoon [09:18] Did I leave my charger at the dorm?

Taehyung [09:18] No idea Speaking of which, you owe me a lock for my door

Namjoon [09:19] Excuse me?

Jungkook [09:19] Taehyung

Yoongi [09:20] Yeah and you need to return my aux cable. It’s still in your car. I couldn’t charge my phone last night and had to fight Miso to borrow hers

Hoseok [09:20] Wait you were with Miso last night?

Seokjin [09:21] @Namjoon I called you to check about the company HQ sleeping quarters too but you didn’t answer

Jimin [09:21] Oh yeah, Namjoon hyung - you weren’t here to give me a pep talk when my night for Sooah was going up in flames either. I had to call Taehyungie and Jungkook instead and they were no help at all!

Jungkook [09:22] Hey!

Taehyung [09:22] Hey!

Namjoon [09:22] One ridiculous problem at a time, please!

Hoseok frowns, already losing interest. He navigates away from the chat and scrolls through his messages, answering some and ignoring others, his eyes now somewhat getting used to the light of the screen. Just as he’s about to close the app, another message pops up.

Chanyeol [09:15] Up?

Hoseok [09:15] Just about

Chanyeol [09:16] Kk. Listen, are you going home anytime soon?

Hoseok [09:17] To Gwangju? Not part of the plan right now, no. Maybe Christmas? Why?

Chanyeol [09:17] We were planning when to go next. Hayoung’s parents are probably travelling end of the year so we’re trying to plan a trip when everyone we want to meet will be there at the same time.

Hoseok [09:18] And I’m part of that list? Chan, you honour me

Chanyeol [09:18] You’d think you wouldn’t be after 20 years of being friends but hey

Hoseok [09:18] You know Seoul is like a train ride away right? Why do you want to wait to hang out in Gwangju?

Chanyeol [09:19] Home and stuff

Hoseok [09:19] Hella senti, I have to say

Chanyeol [09:19] There’s the added bonus of Hayoung and I having to stay with our respective parents when we go home though

Hoseok [09:20] That’s what I’m saying! Come to Seoul

Chanyeol [09:21] I will… I just have to do a Gwangju trip soon. Hopefully when you’re there too

Hoseok [09:21] Why?

Chanyeol [09:22] Okay don’t say a word to ANYONE But I kinda want to ask Hayoung to move in

Chanyeol [09:23] Hoseok?

Chanyeol [09:24] Dude you’re freaking me out. Is that a terrible idea?

Hoseok [09:25] Nope Just recovering from MY MIND BEING BLOWN My boy’s growing up!!!

Chanyeol [09:25] Jesus You scared the shit out of me for a couple minutes there

Hoseok [09:26] I’m gonna dance my ass off at your wedding

Chanyeol [09:26] Whoaaa. Slow down there pop star

Chanyeol [09:27] Anyway, that’s why I want to go back. I want to do this thing where she’s at her parents’ house and I’m at mine and then I bring up all these rules that we used to have at home when we were kids and then just casually wonder what it would be like if we could make our own rules - in our own home.

Hoseok [09:28] Adorable Just adorable Still waiting for how my Gwangju plans fit into this though

Chanyeol [09:29] Are you kidding? I need you there for moral support!

Hoseok [09:29] So, like… hiding outside in the bushes while you’re talking to Hayoung?

Chanyeol [09:30] No, that would be creepy. But this might be the second most important question I ever ask in my life so I need you there. In town. In the vicinity. So I can plan and maybe make some kind of a grand gesture? Unless it’s stupid

Hoseok [09:30] No! Of course I’ll be there. Just let me know when

Chanyeol [09:31] I will. In any case, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to go back until at least January so that gives me some time to prep.

Chanyeol [09:32] Thanks though. You’re a good friend. The best actually.

Hoseok stares at the screen, the smile on his face fading. The faint flowery perfume and the scent of skin on skin suddenly seems stronger. Something shifts next to him and he turns on his back with dread, faced with the sleeping form of his best friend’s half-naked younger sister.

—

“Everything okay?”

Seokjin looks up, instinctively locking his phone as Nari walks into the living room, stopping just shy of the edge of the carpet.

“Yeah. Just… the usual.” He shrugs, placing his phone next to him. He bites his lip, suddenly at a loss for words. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhm.” She nods, running her fingers through the top of her hair and letting it fall down one shoulder. “You? Was the sofa comfortable?”

“Oh. Yeah, totally.” He tries to suppress the urge to stretch his back. “How about you? Oh -“ He clears his throat when she frowns slightly. “Right. We just did you.”

Nari nods again, this time slower. “Listen, Seokjin, about last night -“

“Nari, about what happened -“

They pause at the same time and Seokjin feels his ears turn red, the same time as she chuckles awkwardly and looks away.

“You go,” offers Seokjin, regretting it almost immediately.

“No, no, please, you can go first.”

“No, I insist -“

Nari stares for a few seconds, looking hesitant. “I just wanted to say… don’t worry about it. We can just forget it.”

Seokjin processes this, his pulse slightly uneven. “Okay,” he says lightly. “Thanks for, uh… letting me sleep over.”

“I think I kind of forced you,” she reminds him. “I couldn’t quite have your hypothermia on my hands. They’d take away my medical license if I let you go back out in that rain. Oh, and take your time returning the clothes,” she adds suddenly. “Although I think that sweatshirt is yours, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Um -“ He looks down at the faded blue sweatshirt and grey joggers she’d lent him last night. “Oh, yeah. I stopped looking for this, like, three years ago. I thought I left it in some hotel in America.”

“Well, it would’ve been on eBay selling for a million dollars if that were the case,” she says teasingly.

Seokjin cracks a smile. Unlike last night when, for a glorious portion of an hour, things had felt almost normal, he feels more uncomfortable than ever. Part of him feels like screaming into a pillow, for it’s occurring to him now what a terrible position he’s put himself and Nari in, not to mention Seulgi, stranded in Big Hit.

“Oh.” The word escapes his lips before he realises. He scrambles off the sofa, running a hand through his messy hair. “I have to go… I need to pick up -“ He looks up at Nari.

“Yeah, no. That’s fine.” She nods. “I hope you don’t feel weird about last night, though.”

“I don’t.” He pauses. “I don’t feel weird about it,” he says clearly, but this isn’t the time to have this discussion. Not while his girlfriend is elsewhere, not until he’s done the right thing by her.

Nari looks like she’s about to say something but shakes her head at the last moment. “That’s good. I guess I’ll see you around?”

Seokjin observes her, bare face and slightly puffy eyes. She's biting her lip - he’d kissed those lips last night, he remembers and waits for his face to get hot again.

But it doesn’t. He nods. “Yeah. See you around, Nari.” He trudges out, squinting slightly at the sun and needing a coffee so, so badly.

“Seokjin.” She’s standing at the door when he turns and her eyes twinkle slightly in a way that makes his stomach leap hopefully. “Thanks for coming last night, though.”

It takes him a moment. “Of course. Happy half-birthday, Nari.”

The roads are unforgiving. Despite a lot of the water having been drained, the streets are still flowing with ankle deep water, leaves and debris strewn around everywhere, and entire roads blocked for repairs.

Seokjin reaches Big Hit almost thirty minutes later than he’d intended. Just as he’s about to drive into the basement parking, he spots Seulgi walking out of the front doors, one hand on the strap of her bag and the other holding her phone.

He immediately pulls into the front of the building and skids to a stop, accidentally splashing water from a puddle on her ankles.

“What the -“

“Sorry!” he exclaims apologetically, turning off the car and stepping out.

“Seokjin?” Her shoulders relax when she notices him - but she doesn’t smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, the roads are crap. Figured you might need a ride home?” he ventures.

“Oh.” She seems hesitant. Even after spending a whole night at the company sleeping quarters, she looks like she’s stepped out a shower and spent thirty minutes getting ready; there isn’t a hair out of place or a single crease in her clothing. Dressed in an ancient sweatshirt - and what he suddenly remembers with a shock are Nari’s joggers - he feels like a complete slob.

“Unless… you don’t want one.”

Seulgi stares at him. For a second, he thinks she might throw her phone at his face. But a moment later she shrugs.

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

It’s formal and slightly awkward, but Seokjin takes it as a good sign when she opens the passenger door and gets in. He drives mostly in silence; he isn’t sure what to say to her and figures he at least owes her a ride to her doorstep before they have this discussion.

This route is shorter, fortunately, and fifteen minutes later when he pulls up in front of her building, he takes a deep breath. Before he can get a word out, though, she speaks.

“We’re done, Seokjin.”

His heart jolts harder than he expected it would. “What?”

She continues looking out of the windshield, but her voice is calm yet steely. “I spent more time yesterday worrying about our relationship than on my presentation. And that’s not me. Neither is getting in the middle of a situation as messy as yours and Nari’s, but -“ She scoffs without humour.

Seokjin isn’t sure what hurts more: the fact that he wasn’t expecting this right now, or the fact that he can’t help but agree with her.

“Seulgi… I know I haven’t been a good partner lately. I know that and you deserve -“

“Don’t tell me what I deserve. Please,” she says, still calm, but this time he thinks he can hear her voice tremble slightly. “I think you tried. Trying to call me the last few weeks, checking up on me last night, picking me up right now… you’ve been raised to be a decent guy.” She shakes her head and looks out her window. “But it really loses its charm when there’s another woman in the picture.”

Shame trickles down Seokjin’s spine but he forces himself to listen to her and absorb every single word. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I felt for Nari - and I still don’t, but I never meant to -“

“Really? Is that why you’re wearing a pair of pants with her name printed on them?”

His heart stops.

“What?”

Seulgi scoffs again, but it’s followed by the smallest of sniffs. “God, I was such an idiot.”

Seokjin looks down at the joggers, frowning deeply and scanning his leg to see what Seulgi might have until he spots it: right by the edge of the pocket, in faded Hangul… Choi Nari.

“No. No, no, this - no. No.” Seokjin shakes his head vigorously, for she's got it all wrong. But for some reason, his mouth seems incapable of saying anything other than no, no, no.

“Spare me. You're literally in her pants,” she says icily. “God - I'm that girl. The one who started dating a guy with a girl best friend that stopped being just a friend somewhere along the way. Talk about a B-grade k-drama.” She begins gathering her bag and unstrapping her seatbelt.

“Seulgi,” he says hurriedly, “I did not - I swear to you, it's nothing like you're imagining.”

She turns to him and tilts her head, but her eyes are shuttered - apart from being wet. “Really? You weren't with her last night?”

“No! I mean, I was at her house but I wasn't with -”

“Goodbye, Seokjin,” she interrupts him, opening the car door and climbing out. “Thanks for the ride,” she mutters, just before slamming the door shut and walking away.

Seokjin watches her leave in shock. His heart is beating uncomfortably and he feels sick in his stomach, for as much of a right Seulgi had to do this and as much as he even expected her to, hurting her this way was not something he had ever intended.

He isn’t sure how long he sits out there; it isn’t until his phone rings that he’s jerked out of his trance.

“Hello?” He clears his throat and presses his fingers into his eyes, feeling them get wet as he lowers them.

“Seokjin hyung?” There’s a minor commotion in the back. “The meeting has been pushed back by half an hour.”

It’s Jungkook. Seokjin nods, the meeting seeming like a distant problem right now. “Okay.”

“Yeah, meaning we can probably grab breakfast before it. Do you want the staff to order something for you?”

As if on cue, his stomach churns at the thought of food. “Uh, no.”

“No?”

“Yeah. I’m not hungry.” Before Jungkook can argue further, Seokjin continues. “I have to go. I’ll be there soon.”

Hanging up, he finally pulls out from in front of Seulgi’s building, beginning his drive back home.

—

Sooah’s birthday lunch has been organised in a fancy, chic restaurant in central Seoul, on the top floor with added security and an exclusive invitation list. The sun is mild and there’s a gentle breeze in the air, making the balcony area a popular spot for many of the guests to enjoy the newly improved weather with cocktails and appetizers being served by well-dressed waiters.

Hoseok provides his name at the entrance and enters the party, hoping furtively that the group of girls just outside the building haven't spotted his face. He looks around; evidently, the birthday girl hasn't arrived yet. He declines a passing waiter's offer of a prawn tempura and makes a beeline for the first member he sees.

“Hey, hyung,” he says, slightly breathless as he reaches Yoongi. The older member had ended up bringing Jungkook, Namjoon and Taehyung from the company HQ, especially after the latter two had decided they wanted to drink freely at the party and not drive after that, leaving their cars still parked in the company basement.

Now, Yoongi, who’s been quiet all morning and is holding a glass of what looks like gin, nods in acknowledgement even though his gaze is fixed somewhere on the ground.

However, Hoseok can't begin to wonder what his problem is right now. “Okay, look,” he begins, looking around to make sure there's no one around. “I did something horrible. Well, no, not horrible,” he amends quickly. “It wasn't at all - okay, here's what it is, alright?” He swallows and takes a deep breath. “I hooked up with Chaeyoung,” he confesses in a single breath.

Yoongi, who'd been listening with his gaze still burning into the ground, finally looks at him. “Wow,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Really? Isn't she, like, fifteen or something?”

“What? No!” Hoseok cries. “She's twenty-three! She's an adult - she’s as old as Jungkook! Well, slightly younger,” he admits.

“How much younger?”

“… eighteen months.”

Yoongi nods, then frowns. “Okay, well… it’s not that bad then. She’s old enough.”

“Yeah, but she’s -“ My childhood neighbour, a family friend, and Chanyeol’s baby sister. “… Chaeyoung,” he finishes uneasily. “Her brother is going to kill me,” he groans, dropping his face into his hands.

“Really? Why?” Yoongi shrugs. “It’s her life, right?”

“I mean, sure. But Chan is really protective of her, especially after their mother passed.” Hoseok doesn’t know how exactly to word it to someone who hasn't been there through it all, watching Chanyeol constantly keep an eye on the most important person in his life. Until she moved to Seoul and he asked me to take over.

“So?” Yoongi shrugs, then takes a sip of his drink. “It's her life,” she repeats. “He can't look out for her forever.”

Hoseok exhales, sensing that Yoongi isn't quite getting the point. “Okay, just imagine that I hooked up with your younger sister.”

Yoongi grimaces slightly. “Okay?”

“And imagine that I was your best friend, that we grew up together and I saw her grow up and I was… kind of a douche to her back then,” he mutters. “But then everyone grows up and suddenly I’m in the same city as her, you trusted me to look out for her - and instead I ended up in bed with her,” he finishes with a flourish. “What would you do?”

Yoongi squints, clearly trying to process this. “I… I don’t know, that’s a lot to keep track of. And you know what, I don’t have sisters so I really - I mean, I’m not the best person to ask. But you know who is?” he adds quickly, gesturing with his chin at something behind Hoseok.

Hoseok turns to see Namjoon finishing up a conversation with someone, clinking his glass with theirs cheerfully before they part ways.

“He’s your best friend, you kind of grew up together and he has a younger sister.” Yoongi counts them off one by one. “One he’s fairly protective of.”

“Is he?” Hoseok frowns. “Protective of his sister? Like he is with Kaya?”

“Well, it’s not the same situation but he’s protective by nature. And you’re just getting an opinion, not recreating it to the T,” Yoongi reminds him, nudging his shoulder. “He’s your guy.”

Hoseok considers this and nods, making his way over to Namjoon. Namjoon notices him approaching and smiles, which Hoseok returns with a slightly confused one of his own.

“Hoba!” Namjoon exclaims, clapping him on the back and almost knocking the wind out of him. “How’ve you been? Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, uh… no, thanks.” Hoseok shakes his head but agrees to a wonton on the spread in front of them. Chewing, he observes Namjoon, who looks far happier than he can remember seeing him in recent times. It’s not unexpected, given how long he and Kaya spent apart.

Suddenly deciding he doesn’t want to think about why Namjoon looks so happy, he hurries to speak.

“So, uh… say I hooked up with your sister,” he begins quickly, only for Namjoon’s smile to disappear in an instant.

“You… what?” he exclaims, and his height suddenly seems looming.

Hoseok frowns before rolling his eyes. “Say,” he repeats, “that I hooked up with your sister.”

“Oh. Why?” When Hoseok doesn’t answer immediately, Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Dude, did you sleep with someone’s sister?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Hoseok takes a step back and raises his hands. “I did not sleep with her. We didn’t have sex - like, it was so not like that. Because sex is… we didn’t… I mean, no sex was had,” he finishes, his throat feeling dry.

“So I take it you didn’t have sex?”

“No, we didn’t.” But I may as well have, he thinks, flashes of last night surfacing in his mind. Her hair, her skin, her voice like he’d never heard it before… Hoseok sighs. “I went over to Chaeyoung’s last night and we… fooled around,” he confesses, hoping he won’t be asked to elaborate.

Namjoon is far too sensible to do that, fortunately. “Right. And… that’s a bad thing,” he states, as though waiting for Hoseok to confirm it.

He opens his mouth, knowing what he should say. “No,” he admits after a moment. “That’s the worst part, that nothing about it was bad at all.” He shakes his head even as his chest feels lighter for the first time all day. “It was incredible. And not just the - the hooking up, but being with her, laughing and talking… God, we talked all night,” he remembers, his eyes dropping to the floor.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows again, this time looking somewhat impressed. “Sounds like the dream,” he remarks deliberately.

“Yeah?”

“Totally. And clearly you know that because you’re getting that same little smile the thought of it,” he points out. “The one you guys used to tease me about?”

Hoseok immediately straightens his face, not even realising he’d been smiling. “Shut up.”

Namjoon shrugs serenely, finishing his drink and helping himself to a second. “You’re worried about her brother, though,” he guesses.

“More than worried.” He shakes his head and drops his face into his hands. “He’s going to think I totally betrayed him.”

“Did you, though?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you,” he says urgently. “If I hooked up with your sister - your younger sister - while I’m your friend… what would you do?”

Namjoon frowns uncertainly, apparently thinking about it, then exhales. “I wouldn’t be thrilled,” he admits. “It would feel a little like you were going behind my back? Especially since… well, it’s my sister.” He winces, apparently realising he’s not doing a very good job at explaining this. “No guy ever wants to think about his little sister doing that, least of all with one of his friends.”

“That’s perfect,” mutters Hoseok.

“No, but you know - it’s a little different in Chanyeol’s case,” muses Namjoon, now leaning backwards against the table and pointing at the air, as though it’s an interesting problem he’s solving on an invisible whiteboard. “You actually grew up with him.”

“Isn’t that worse? Because not only did I grow up with him, I grew up with her. And Chan is…” He exhales tiredly. “She won’t believe me, but he’s always been extremely protective of her. Especially since their mom died. Emotionally, physically… I know him - there’s nothing in this world he would prioritise over his sister.”

Namjoon is quiet for a moment. “Is it because their mom died?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” he admits. “He was kind of like the golden child when they were young and she was always a little left out and overlooked… he never admitted it but I know he felt guilty about it. He always tried to make up for it and look after her more - even now, when she moved to Seoul.”

“Well, I can see that,” says Namjoon reasonably. “It’s difficult to see your younger sibling as anything other than a kid, especially when they’re that much younger. You thought of her as a kid, too, if I remember correctly,” he reminds him, irritatingly logical.

“But she’s not a kid anymore,” argues Hoseok. “I did think that at first but… she’s really not. She’s smart and insightful and - and she’s focused on her career. And she’s pragmatic - you know last night during the storm, she had hot water and instant ramen stocked up in case the power went out?” His eyes widen and he shrugs hugely. “Six of us in the dorm and not one of us thought to stock up on food. If I’m not wrong, Jungkook ate a bowl of cold kimchi for dinner while Taehyung ate half a block of cheese. And that was with the power on!”

Namjoon grimaces. “What was happening while I was gone?”

“And she made brownies!” Hoseok exclaims, ignoring his friend. “And they were good. And she was crocheting - she…” He takes a deep breath. “She gave me a crocheted bear,” he tells Namjoon in a low voice. “And I don’t know if she put some kind of spell on it, but for some reason, it won’t leave my pocket.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows but Hoseok can’t seem to stop talking - not now that he’s finally saying out loud things that have been swimming in his brain for months.

“She’s cute and she’s funny - and she’s got this killer confidence. Where did that even come from?” he demands. “She used to be all shy and awkward before but now she’s… oh, and she’s started giving advice now? Good advice, incidentally, and I just want to… I just want to talk to her all the time because sometimes it really feels like she can solve every single one of my problems. And honestly, after last night…” Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, glancing at Namjoon’s expression and hating it, “Namjoon, believe me… she’s a grown woman.”

There’s a few seconds of silence where Hoseok fights the urge to yell incomprehensibly into the abyss.

“So… I know you guys don’t really like it when I do this,” begins Namjoon slowly, “but if I understand it correctly, your problem isn’t so much that you slept with Chaeyoung -“

“I didn’t sleep with -“

“- it’s that you’re falling in love with Chaeyoung,” he finishes, nodding as though explaining a rather simple maths problem without wanting to hurt his feelings.

“I’m - I’m not,” murmurs Hoseok, even as his heart sinks for more often than not, Namjoon is right.

“But that changes things,” says Namjoon. “If you actually had feelings for my sister - real feelings, and I was convinced that you weren’t just messing around with her… I would actually be kind of okay with it. It would be weird,” he admits, shuddering a little, “but it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I’m sure it would be the same with Chanyeol. No?”

Hoseok shakes his head. It isn’t as if the thought hasn’t occurred to him, but if there’s one person who knows Chanyeol, it’s him.

“You know, it might? Except, when we were growing up, I was a dick to Chaeyoung,” he admits in a low voice, the shame and guilt bubbling deep in his stomach. “He was protecting her from his parents and his step-mom and other kids… but he was also protecting her from me.”

He doesn’t say it out loud - he can’t, because it’s too shameful, that the one and only time that Chanyeol ever snapped at him, the only time Hoseok ever felt that he could lose his best friend was when he’d warned him to stop making fun of his little sister.

It had been when they were in high school. Hoseok had taken it way down after that, choosing only to tease her in a more playful way or ignore her altogether, usually when Chanyeol wasn’t around. But it was undeniable that even though they’d moved past it, Hoseok had crossed a line.

Until now.

“I’m the last person Chanyeol will be okay with, being with his sister,” he states, knowing it’s true.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Look, Hobi… that was years ago. You were a kid.” He seems to spot something behind Hoseok’s shoulder. “What’s more important is how she feels about your past.”

Hoseok is about to open his mouth when his phone pings at the same time as Namjoon’s. Similar pings are heard throughout the room and when he checks his phone, it’s to see a message on a group chat.

Jimin [13:04] We’re on our way up. Everyone get ready!

As promised, less than a minute later, they hear the lift open and Jimin’s voice sing-song as he speaks. A moment later, he appears at the doorway with Sooah, his face breaking into a cherubic smile as he gestures to the room with a flourish.

“Surprise!”

All the guests chorus together and Sooah, after gasping and seemingly suffering a mild heart attack, begins greeting people who come forward to hug her. Hoseok and Namjoon hang back, allowing her school friends to greet her first, including Taehyung, while Jimin stands beside her proudly, evidently satisfied with her reaction. It’s then that Hoseok sees her.

“Oh, my God, she’s here,” he breathes, instantly turning away but unable to do so for long. He chances a glance at her as he half-hides behind Namjoon’s broad frame; in an oversized striped pink sweater, a short denim skirt, sheer pink stockings and black combat boots, she looks like an ice cream - a cute, pink, irresistible ice cream with slightly flushed cheeks and long wavy hair. Bubblegum punk, he’d said to her once and here she is, clearly embracing it.

“Okay, the worst thing you can do is be dramatic about this,” warns Namjoon. “Just go and talk to her like everything’s - wait,” he says suddenly. “What did you say to her this morning?”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t want to wake her up, so -”

Namjoon turns around with his eyebrows high on his forehead. “You snuck out?” he whispers loudly.

“No! I mean, technically - but I needed to leave for that meeting and my phone was dead so I couldn’t text her. And I didn’t want to wake her up,” he adds defensively, anticipating the question. “Don’t worry, I left her a note.”

“A note?”

“Yeah, and it was a nice note,” he says shortly. “Whatever I do, I’m not going to screw her over like that.”

They go over to greet the birthday girl after that, once the crowd thins out. Hoseok catches Chaeyoung’s eye for the briefest of moments, feeling his heart skip an enormous beat. But she moves away and he follows her slender figure going to place her present on the gift table.

“... thought it was going to be just a small lunch, you and me. You didn’t have to go through all this…”

“I wanted to give you a surprise… don’t you like it?”

“Oh, of course I do, Chim…”

Sooah leans up to press a kiss to Jimin’s cheek, who looks mollified when he spots them, followed by Sooah. “Hey, guys,” she says, leaning up to hug them in turn as they chorus their own happy birthdays to her. “Thank you for coming, I know how busy you all are.”

“Where’s Seokjin hyung?” Jimin asks, scanning the room.

“He said he wasn’t feeling up to it. He says sorry,” adds Hoseok apologetically, while Sooah waves a hand. “He did look quite off even during the meeting this morning.”

Jimin murmurs something noncommittal but shrugs, evidently deciding to let it go when Taehyung and Jungkook join them as well, deep in discussion that abruptly stops when they come into earshot.

“Namjoon oppa, Jimin told me you just got back from New Zealand,” says Sooah. “How was it?”

“Oh, yeah, you never told us,” adds Jungkook. “Did you do the ziplining thing this time?” he asks excitedly

Namjoon takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. “No, no, we didn’t,” he answers, chuckling.

“Oh. Well, you must have gone to Milford Sound - he was obsessed with that place the last time we were there,” remembers Hoseok. “Remember? You wanted to stay there longer but the staff made us leave. That’s the kind of place Kaya would like, too.”

“Oh, yeah. It was really nice - but I don’t know, we never really got around to doing that,” he admits.

“Okay.” Jungkook frowns. “What about that Lord of the Rings hike? That’s right up your alley.”

“Er… no. Didn’t end up doing that either.”

Hoseok frowns. “So what did you do for three weeks?”

There’s a few moments where no one speaks and Namjoon doesn’t answer, opting instead to take a long, slow sip of wine and ending it with a soft smack of his lips, all the while when Hoseok finds himself slowly regretting his question.

“Oh. Oh, God.” He swallows before groaning. Jungkook’s ears go red while Sooah and Jimin snort, and Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as they all disperse, clicking his tongue and winking at him.

“Don’t prolong it,” murmurs Namjoon to Hoseok before he leaves, his eyes clearly on Chaeyoung. “Just be normal with her.”

“Right. Normal.” It’s easier said than done, for Hoseok discovers that he’s barely able to look at Chaeyoung without thinking about last night. His feelings for her were tending towards a problematic region long before this, but something had changed irreversibly last night. There was no scope for denial anymore, he realises, not about his attraction to her or deeper emotions that make his stomach flip.

Worst of all, it’s the looming thought of Chanyeol following him every time she enters his mind. He would lose Chanyeol over this, he knows it. Hoseok didn’t think losing Chanyeol would ever even be worthy of consideration in his mind - until Chaeyoung, looking like a cute, pretty, sensitive ice cream.

He drifts towards the table of hors d'oeuvres, trying to force an appetite. Nothing looks appealing, though, not now, but he scans it anyway hopefully. Someone else arrives at the table, and he smells her before he sees her.

“Hi,” says Chaeyoung, giving him a small smile and picking up a small chocolate at the edge of the table.

It’s too much: her summery perfume, her shiny hair, the memory of her naked rib cage underneath his palms while she sighed his name in a way that would make Chanyeol punch him in the face if he knew. He exhales shakily as she takes a step closer to him; even though they aren’t even slightly touching, the proximity makes his heart race and to his horror, he can feel his jeans tighten.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a low voice, dropping all pretense and turning to her.

She raises her eyebrows. “I’m saying hi,” she answers, not sounding even a fraction as frazzled as he feels. She does look… happy to see him, though. The thought makes his heart leap and hurt at the same time.

“Listen, Chae,” he begins, because he just can’t do this. She nods, looking casual and breezy, her cheeks with a hint of pink still on them.

“Yeah?”

“Look, last night was… amazing,” he admits, noting how, despite the casual demeanour she’s displaying, a smile begins creeping up on her face as well. Her lips are pink, too, and glossy… “It was amazing and - and you’re amazing.” Her smile widens slightly and her cheeks flush a little brighter and Hoseok feels his strength start to leave him bit by bit. “But it can’t happen again. No matter how I feel… Chanyeol is still my best friend and you’re still his sister and… you are so off limits.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t seem fazed. Her smile fades slightly but not completely and she licks her lips, as though able to see right through him. “It’s a little late for that, I think,” she says lightly, brushing a lock of hair off her neck.

Be still, my heart. “No, it’s not. I mean, it… yeah. Maybe.” He looks at the floor and exhales deliberately, trying to gather his thoughts. “But it can’t go further. I - I really hope you understand, Chae,” he implores, meeting her eyes, wide and doe-like. “You’re amazing,” he repeats, meaning it, “but…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, then nods. “Okay.” Giving him that same small, nonchalant smile, she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth and walks away.

—

Seokjin wakes up from the worst sleep he’s encountered in a while - and that includes the tour they’ve just wrapped up.

It had taken him a long time to fall asleep. Once he’d finally managed to somewhat numb himself to the fact that he’d just been dumped because his girlfriend thought he’d cheated on her, he’d tried to close his eyes and get just a little while of nothingness. But he felt wrung out; he was emotionally so exhausted that it was hard to even sleep, especially because he knew, he knew, that while his break-up with Seulgi was affecting him, it was the fact that he didn't even know how Nari fit into all this.

Well, he knew. He had an idea and he was aware of the general area in which Nari was involved, but all his strength was going into not thinking about that right now because it was a Pandora’s box he didn't want to rifle through at the moment.

Then, of course, the moment he’d tried to catch a few winks, his phone had started buzzing with updates from Sooah's birthday lunch. Jimin hadn't taken it too well when Seokjin had told him after the meeting that he wouldn't be able to make it and while he hadn't been able to bring himself to explain why, something in his expression must have done it for him, for Jimin had abruptly stopped pestering him and told him to stop by if he felt better.

He checks his phone now, realising he's slept through lunch. The late afternoon sun is already dimming, as though warning the city of an early sunset. He sits up on the couch, his back hurting and head pounding and heart racing from the vague dream he'd had of Seulgi imprisoning him in an underground jail while Namjoon appeared as a hologram and read a list of his crimes.

You're a decent guy, but it loses its charm when there's another woman in the picture.

It was like a sick twist of fate, the momentary relief that Seulgi was breaking up with him until it turned to dread when he realised why she was breaking up with him. And the other woman in the picture… Seokjin runs a hand across his face, knowing that it wouldn't have made anything better if he'd try to explain why he was wearing Nari's joggers in the first place.

No, I wasn't sleeping with her - not at all. I went to her place in the storm to wish her a happy half-birthday in line with a decades-old tradition, we splashed around in the rain for a while where an accidental kiss took place, and then she offered me dry clothes and her couch for the night because she's a doctor and she was worried about hypothermia.

It sounds ridiculous - not to mention like a rather trite story. He'd taken off the joggers the moment he'd entered the dorm, throwing on the first pair of trousers he'd found in his room before driving away for his meeting. He'd chucked it in the washing machine after getting back and then the dryer, and in the absence of anything else to do except overthink his ended relationship, Seokjin stalks over to the dryer and retrieves the washed joggers. Without sitting back down, he collects his keys and prepares to drive over to Nari's.

It will be therapeutic, he supposes, to get rid of the immediate cause of his break-up. Plus, he would get the opportunity to apologise to Nari again - for staying over last night, for accidentally kissing her, maybe for showing up at all.

As he nears her building, he slows down. The street is still empty, although the water guns are no longer where they were last night. It’s almost as though the evidence of what transpired has been wiped away clean; Seokjin can’t decide whether that’s supposed to be a good thing.

There’s a good chance she won’t be home right now, he realises. But he still parks the car where he had last night and steps out, folded joggers in hand, looking up at the corridor window that had blown away her notes last night. It’s open and gives him a direct view of her front door.

Just then, as if on cue, the door opens. Seokjin’s stomach leaps without warning - for she’s home - and despite the bad day he’s had so far, a ghost of a smile graces his face.

Nari appears at the door, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Seokjin takes a step forward but halts immediately in his tracks when she breaks into a relieved sort of smile and she opens the door wider - and someone else appears into view.

It’s a man. It’s him - Jason or whoever - who she’d brought to dinner at his place. She’d maintained that they were simply colleagues but either she’d been lying or the situation had changed since then, but Seokjin is motionless as he watches Jason kiss her casually on the cheek as she moves aside to let him in.

Maybe it’s the culmination of an already dismal day or it’s the unexpected nature of this discovery, but nothing that’s happened so far has crushed his chest quite so viscerally. Seokjin almost hopes he’s mistaking someone else for Nari or it’s a friendly, platonic, even brotherly situation - he’s grasping at straws mentally, even as Jason steps inside and the door closes behind him.

—

Near the late afternoon, when the sunlight starts to become sparse, the party starts to wrap up. Guests begin saying goodbye, passing by the table piled high with gifts on their way to the lift, many people happily day drunk and stumbling out.

“Did you know Sooah had this many friends?” Yoongi mutters, sidling up to Hoseok. He looks longingly at the drinks table next to them, now with far more empty bottles than when they'd first arrived.

“I didn't know someone could have this many friends,” he admits, somewhat admiringly. Across the hall, she looks appropriately engaged, swaying to the Justin Bieber track playing on the speaker and talking to two people as she sipped on a cocktail with a straw. A little way away, Jimin, Taehyung and two other guys he'd never seen before were aggressively popping to the song while simultaneously filming each other and guffawing.

“Sounds like a lot of work.” Yoongi sighs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “When do you want to head out? Because I could use a drink.”

“Oh, is that why you've been sober all day?” Hoseok chuckles. “That’s adorable, hyung. You're like the mother hen trying to get her chickens to walk in a straight line before doing anything else.”

“That's me. Do you see the other chickens around? Namjoon and Jungkook are sharing a cigarette on the balcony,” he notes.

“Jimin and Taehyung are over there, although I’m guessing Jimin will be with Sooah. I don't think they're all Sooah's friends,” he says after a moment. “They aren't close friends at least. I think they're mostly old classmates and stuff that she's kind of in touch with. Jimin just goes all out.”

“He told you that?”

“Not exactly,” he mutters, his gaze moving to the one figure he's been glancing at continuously. Chaeyoung is by the appetiser station again, a clear drink in her hand as she fingers the edge of one of the food cards. Her bottom lip is between her teeth and she's frowning.

As he watches, a friend of Sooah's joins her and says something, to which she nods and laughs politely. He responds and she shrugs, a bit uncertainly, before picking up a single French fry and popping it in her mouth.

“Did you talk to her?”

Hoseok doesn't bother beating around the bush and inquiring who Yoongi is referring to. “Kind of. Went better than I anticipated, actually.”

“Really?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “What did you say to her?”

“Told her last night was fun and all but it can't happen again.” Hoseok turns away from her. “She seemed fine with it.”

“You don't sound fine with it.”

“What do you mean? I'm the one who suggested it.”

“You don't sound fine with the fact that she was fine with it.”

Hoseok glares at Yoongi but doesn’t argue. He turns to Chaeyoung again, this time a bit more alert when he notices her grabbing her sling bag, clearly ready to leave. He follows her pink, wavy-haired figure as she floats over to Sooah and presumably wishes her again before giving her a hug.

He frowns as their interaction continues: Chaeyoung asks her something and Sooah responds easily, tilting her head and giggling as she points to Jimin. Chaeyoung’s face falls for a fraction of a second before it’s replaced with a smile and a nod. They hug again and this time, Chaeyoung starts to leave.

As she does, she meets Hoseok’s eyes. His heart stops briefly but she simply gives him a casual wave and a small smile, before stepping into the lift and waiting for the doors to close.

Hoseok swallows, his mind going a mile a minute for the next few seconds. “Hyung,” he says, “you’re taking the rest of the chickens back to HQ?”

“You know it.” Yoongi follows Hoseok’s gaze. “You have your car?”

Hoseok nods before clapping him on the back and dashing off in the same direction as Chaeyoung. He takes the stairs two at a time and spills out into the lobby of the building, head darting around and spotting a telltale pair of pink stockinged legs disappearing around the corner outside the glass doors.

He follows her, jogging a bit until he’s within earshot. He calls her name and she turns, looking surprised but not altogether disappointed at his presence.

“Hey,” she says, as though they’ve coincidentally run into each other on a normal day. Behind her, the sun is far away at the horizon, a bright spot peeking through the clouds as it prepares to set. Right now, though, it’s difficult to pay attention to it.

“Leaving already?” he asks, a little uselessly, but it’s just occurred to him that he has no idea why he followed her out.

“Yeah, I guess. Most people are gone,” she says. “Plus… I don’t really know anybody there apart from Sooah herself. And you,” she adds with a smile when he raises his eyebrows. She doesn’t say anything else but Hoseok suddenly feels guilty, for three hours at a party not knowing anyone can’t be easy.

“You know the other guys, though,” he says after a moment. “Jimin and, uh…”

“Yeah, I was hanging out with Jungkook for a while.” She nods, fingering the strap of her bag. “It’s getting late, though.”

The decent thing to do would be to offer her a ride. He’s on the verge of doing it; now that he’s here in front of her, everything he’d told her earlier today seems vague and blurry and, frankly, unimportant.

“I’m sorry, Chae.”

She frowns. “Oh, don’t be. It wasn’t that bad - like, the food was good and I got a few nice pictures -“

“No, not about that.”

“Oh.” She licks her lips and nods once. “About that… don’t be sorry about that either. I get it - it’s weird. We’re practically family and you and my brother especially are -“

“Nope. Not that either.”

She stares at him blankly. “I’m out of guesses.”

“I'm sorry for…” What’s more important is how she feels about your past. Namjoon, ever the wise one, had touched upon the only element in this mess that could bring Hoseok out of his pit of guilt about Chanyeol: Chaeyoung.

“Yeah?”

He takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry for everything. Everything I did when we were kids, everything I said…” He bites his lip as she processes this, her eyes flickering slightly before they fall to the ground. “I was a huge jerk to you. And I know I was a kid, too, and so were you… but that doesn't mean that it all just disappears when we grow up. I know over the last year we've… gotten closer -”

Her lips twitch and his cheeks grow warm. He hurries his next words.

“- but I still want to say, explicitly, that I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Chae.”

Something massive seems to have been lifted off his chest but a dull pressure still lingers, pulsating in rhythm with his heart beat. Chaeyoung nods again, slowly, and meets his eyes.]]

“Apology accepted,” she says softly.

The pressure recedes; she feels more within reach than ever. It seems unbelievable that not twenty-four hours ago, she'd been on his lap in a state of undress, kissing him while it poured outside, making every other thought in his mind disappear.

“And I'm sorry, too,” she says after a moment, jerking him out of his dangerous train of thought. “I wasn't mean but I was… pretty clingy. Kids get teased mercilessly at that age over a haircut so I'm sure a kid who acted like… well, like me wouldn't have been easy,” she admits, two pink spots appearing on her pale cheeks.

Hoseok wants to kiss her, so desperately. It takes everything in him to stay rooted to the spot, even though there isn't a single part of him that wants to stay away from her. He should, but for the life of him, he can't quite remember why right now.

Chaeyoung exhales, looking slightly awkward but somewhat relieved - or maybe Hoseok is and he's projecting. Either way, she rocks backwards on the heels of her shoes and shrugs. “Well, I'm going to head,” she says abruptly, the pink tinge on her cheeks still visible. “And… thanks.”

“You're walking?”

“Yeah. After the rain last night it's actually kind of nice. And not totally dark yet,” she adds, looking up at the sky.

He should offer her a ride.

“Can I walk you home?” he blurts, pausing internally as he thinks about his car in the parking lot.

She looks surprised, too. “Um, are you sure? Don't you have to get back to the party?”

“Oh, no, the party is almost dead, anyway,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Even Sooah and Jimin seem to be almost done. I'm sure they'll leave in a bit.”

“And to no one's surprise, she's going back to his place.” Chaeyoung shakes her head. “Wow, I've clearly had one too many mojitos.”

Hoseok snickers. “Don't worry about it. With what I think their plans are tonight, you don't want them in the room next to you.”

She wrinkles her nose and then laughs. “True. But you don't have to walk me home. I'm fine.”

“I don't mind. Really.”

“It's, like, a thirty minute walk.”

“Fortunately, I’m kind of good when it comes to stamina.”

Chaeyoung narrows her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. Ice cream, he thinks instantly, and begins to smile without meaning to.

“Why did you apologise?”

“What do you mean?” He shrugs. “It's the right thing to do.”

“Sure, but why today?”

His heart starts to race - or skip, and he simply shrugs. “Seemed like as good a day as any.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t change her stance. “Are you sure?”

The way she asks it, she seems to have caught onto something. It’s too knowing and Hoseok feels his smile getting wider.

“You’re a pain in my ass, caterpillar.”

That makes her laugh - an open, confident laugh and Hoseok’s heart soars.

“Have been, since two thousand four,” she agrees. “Except, obviously, you apologised for all that.”

“You’re going to be a handful.” The words are out of his mouth before he can control them but he finds he doesn’t mind. Chaeyoung’s smile fades slightly and she bites her lip, the sun starting to set behind her.

“You can walk me home,” she says after a moment, turning around but not moving. Hoseok hesitates for the briefest of moments but joins her as she starts walking, their fingers only inches apart.

—

Yoongi drives in silence, while Namjoon, Jungkook and Taehyung sing along to an old song from a TV show. For members of a world famous band, they all sound terrible - but he supposes that is a talent in itself. In the shotgun seat, Jungkook bounces to the song in the passenger seat while Taehyung adds his own ad-libs throughout, but Yoongi has no energy to tell them to stop.

They near the building and he drives into the basement parking, somewhat dreading going up to his studio. He parks and everybody climbs out; Jungkook mumbles something about the gym while Taehyung makes a phone call and they drift away. Namjoon hangs back, waiting for the younger members to leave their earshot before turning to Yoongi.

“Are you alright, hyung?”

“Bitchin’.” He catches Namjoon’s eye and sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. Had a rough night, that’s all.”

“Because of the rain?”

That, too. “Yeah. The good news is, I get to go edit debut tracks for a rookie group for the next eight hours.” He clicks his tongue.

Namjoon nods. “You want some company?”

“Maybe later. Once you sober up,” he adds, cracking a smile. Namjoon chuckles good-naturedly before clearing his throat.

“I, uh, didn’t want to say anything in front of the others, but… I found this in the back seat.” He fishes something out of his pocket and hands it to Yoongi. Yoongi opens his hand automatically, his stomach turning weakly when a small, bright green earring falls into his palm.

The hook of the earring digs into his palm when he enters the top floor of the building. Yoongi takes a seat at an empty table in the open floor pantry and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his emails. The floor is busier than usual; some team seems to be celebrating a colleague’s birthday at another table, a cake with white icing and a couple of slices messily cut out sitting in the centre of the circle; one producer sits alone at a table with noise cancelling headphones on and typing aggressively on his laptop.

Yoongi looks around absently when his eyes land on the coffee station where - something pounds into his chest - he locks eyes with Miso. She holds his gaze for a couple of seconds before turning her back on him and dealing with her coffee.

The earring feels heavy in his hand and all of a sudden, he feels the urge to hurl it out of the window. There is next to no way it’s making it back to its owner in any case. After Miso had icily got into her car outside the motel this morning and Seungwan had driven her away, Yoongi had walked out of the room and watched her leave, proceeding to smoke two full cigarettes in the chilly morning.

The receptionist from last night had also appeared and he’d offered her a cigarette voluntarily, for she looked rather drained as well. Something about how quiet and isolated the place was, not a sound anywhere or even a breath except for the person next to him, made Yoongi feel so disconnected from everything that he felt numb. It was too early, too cold and too unfair. Next to him, the receptionist had chucked her half-smoked cigarette on the ground.

“You didn’t finish that,” stated Yoongi, not really caring.

She’d glanced at him before turning to look ahead, and Yoongi noticed for the first time the carnage from the storm in front of the motel: tree trucks, piles of scattered branches and leaves, water accumulated and overflowing from a ridge in the ground.

“Fuck it,” she’d said.

Maybe it was the aftermath of a terrible night or some sort of shared dissatisfaction with the world but fifteen minutes later, they were in the backseat of Yoongi’s car. It was quick, casual and ended almost as abruptly as it began, with both of them adjusting their clothes and going their separate ways with a brief, formal goodbye.

It seems like ages ago now, with Miso across the room from him, getting coffee outside her studio. Yoongi lowers his head and stares at his phone screen, not reading anything. From the corner of his eye, he sees her turn around and walk in his direction; she would have to pass him to return to her studio.

He can’t think about their argument last night any longer. It’s been rattling around in his mind all day: the rage, the guilt, the desperate desire to sit her down in front of him and read her damn mind. Most of all, there’s an inkling of shame somewhere, deep down, in knowing that his reaction last night had been exactly what she’d expected.

That’s what it had looked like, at least; her eyes had shuttered over at some point and she’d reverted to the old Miso, the one who seemed to live to annoy him and gave nothing, no indication of who she was or what she was thinking. Her walls that he’d worked so hard to make a crack in had gone up instantly, except this time there was a disappointment there he’d never encountered before.

A flash in front of him jerks him away from the table: a hand appears momentarily, placing a cup of iced coffee in front of him with a small thud, before disappearing. Heart racing in mild shock, he turns to see Miso walking away without a second glance, her fingers wrapped around another cup as she turns the corner of the corridor.

He stares at the cup. Sip it first, he’d say ordinarily, straight-faced with only a hint of irony. You’re just going to have to trust me, Min Suga, she’d say, shrugging and settling into her chair, giving him a challenging raise of the eyebrows.

Yoongi takes a sip of the cold liquid, feeling it coat his throat and savouring the hit of caffeine. After a moment, he gets up and heads down the corridor, stopping at Donghyuk’s studio and pausing before he knocks.

“Come in,” comes Miso’s voice, dry and uninterested.

Yoongi pushes open the door slowly to see her alone at the console, a laptop open in front of her and a singular lamp at the other end of the room being the only source of light. She looks at him very briefly before going back to her work. It almost seems as though she expected him to follow her; he can’t tell if she’s happy about it, though.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says.

She simply nods in response, scrolling through something on the laptop.

“Listen,” he says again, placing the coffee on a table next to him and running a hand tiredly through his hair. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“Last night…” He trails off for a moment, wishing he’d rehearsed this a bit before coming in here. “Well, firstly, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have… anyway. Sorry.”

Miso finally turns to him, looks him up and down, and then turns back around. “‘Kay. Is that it?”

“No.” He exhales. “I hooked up with someone this morning. After you left, the receptionist and I… we had sex.” He cringes inwardly at his own words but he can’t fathom how else to say it without mincing words. She’s still looking at her laptop; he isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but her shoulders stiffen slightly. “Anyway. I just wanted to let you know.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then -

“So?”

“Why are you telling me?” she asks, shrugging and turning around briefly. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“I know you’re not. But…” He frowns, trying to suppress the annoyance in his stomach that’s already threatening to bubble up. “I’m just letting you know. Transparency and all that.”

“But it’s none of my business.”

Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, counts to three and slowly exhales. “Right. Well. It’s just something normal people do, I guess. Talk to each other and communicate when they’re…”

She turns around properly this time, her legs folded and her elbows resting on her thighs. “When they’re…” She raises her eyebrows. “When they’re hooking up? We made out a few times… are you telling me because of that?”

He doesn’t respond; he can barely look at her right now, anger and embarrassment creeping into his chest now.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of, Yoongi,” she says knowingly, as though she’s pointing out an unsatisfactory edit to a track. “I told you to stay away. But you didn’t listen. You stayed, you got attached, and you’re telling me about a one-night stand you had. And now you have some kind of… expectation of me when what you really should have done was stay away right from the start.”

“You know what? I’m starting to think the same thing,” he snaps, shaking his head and going to grab his coffee. “I guess forming an attachment with an ice queen is my lesson.”

“You got me attached, too.” It’s the only thing that makes him stop in his tracks. “And that’s the problem with getting attached - you start to care. And then when you find out something that you can’t help, something that’s out of your control and doesn’t fit the image of me you have in your mind - the damsel that needs saving because, admit it, that’s what I am to you right now - it shatters everything.”

Yoongi grits his teeth, but somewhere his throat starts to hurt. He grips the cup and turns around slowly to see her still sitting in the same position, face and voice unnaturally calm.

He needs to choose his words carefully, he knows, but she makes it impossible to think. “I do care,” he begins slowly in a low voice, staring at the floor. “You can make it out to be whatever saviour complex you want but I do care and I do want to help you and be there for you. What is wrong with you that you won’t let me?” he demands tightly, clenching his fist at his side.

“Because it won’t work,” she continues in that same state of forced calm. “This - this challenge? You can spend weeks and months and do all-nighters and collaborate with whoever you want but it’s not going to work. It’s beyond you now. And once you realise that, it’s just going to be an abandoned project. A file somewhere in your computer you just couldn’t crack. I don’t need to be saved,” she says after a moment. “So it’s better for you that you stop trying. And maybe you won’t be so disappointed anymore.”

Yoongi stares at her, her impassive eyes and slouched figure. It’s exhausting; he’s tired and drained and helpless and she simply moves farther and farther away each time.

“You got it, Kang Chanel,” he mutters. “I’ll stay away.” Not wanting to spend a second longer in here, he turns around and walks out of the studio.

Miso watches him leave, using every bit of strength in her to keep her mind blank, to push every single thought and emotion out and, for just a few hours, focus on something that isn’t her clusterfuck of a life. She spends the next few hours alone in the studio, eating take-out from a box and going on a Zoom meeting with Donghyuk.

When it’s nearly midnight, hours longer than she’d thought she’d stay (but wishing she could for longer), she begins to wrap up, saving and closing demo files and packing up her notebook, when her inbox pings.

“Damn it, Donghyuk,” she sighs, bending over to squint at the screen in the dark. Her heart skips a beat when she sees an instant message from Min, Yoongi. Index finger hovering over the mouse, she takes a deep breath and opens it. It’s a screenshot of what looks like a folder on a Mac laptop, but empty. She frowns when her laptop pings again.

[Prod Suga] [00:02] [screenshot] This is all the abandoned projects I’ve had in ten years. Happy to stay away, but don’t you dare call yourself a project ever again.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

#seokjin x oc #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x oc #hoseok x oc #hoseok fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #bts jin fanfic #bts suga fanfic #bts suga angst #bts jin angst #bts jhope fanfic

85 notes · View notes

inkedwithcharm · 3 days ago

Text

Lie to Me | Kim Seokjin

Chapter 5: Sundays and Softness

SC-0 Headquarters – 10:01 AM

There was an unusual sound in the command center this morning.

Laughter.

Not the quiet kind that slipped out mid-coffee or the rare snort after a dark joke. No—this was real. Warm. Unfiltered. It bubbled from somewhere near the kitchenette, followed by the unmistakable clink of coffee mugs and the scent of Yoongi’s too-strong espresso.

You walked in with a half-finished croissant in one hand, clipboard in the other. The air felt different. No new reports. No crime scene photos. Just sunlight coming through the wide windows and a silence that didn’t feel like waiting. For once, it felt like peace.

You saw them first.

Jimin was slouched on the couch with Taehyung, the two mid-debate about whether crocs or sandals were a crime against humanity. (Spoiler: they both agreed they were, but Jimin owned three pairs anyway.)

Jeongguk was trying to teach Yoongi how to use a new surveillance drone, but Yoongi looked more interested in finding a way to turn it into a coffee carrier.

And Hoseok, surprisingly, was smiling. Full smile, no trace of the weight he usually carried in his shoulders.

You paused.

This wasn’t what HQ usually looked like.

And maybe—maybe it was exactly what you needed.

You moved toward your desk quietly, hoping to ease into the morning without drawing too much—

“Y/N-ahhh~!”

A loud voice boomed from the hallway.

You froze.

“Oh no,” Jeongguk muttered with a grin, “he’s back.”

The doors flew open.

In stepped Kim Seokjin, in all his post-gunshot glory.

Black blazer. Sunglasses. A giant shopping bag in one hand and a bouquet of absurdly large sunflowers in the other.

He tossed the flowers dramatically at you, missing by at least a foot.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

You barely caught the flowers before they hit your keyboard. “You almost died.”

“And yet, here I am. Sexier than ever.”

Jimin clapped from the couch. “Healed and insufferable. Just like we hoped.”

Taehyung smirked. “I give him twenty minutes before he makes a pun about bullets.”

“I would never!” Seokjin declared, offended. “Unless it was a bang-up opportunity.”

You groaned. “There it is.”

He strutted over, plopping himself dramatically in the chair beside you.

“Do you realize,” he said, pulling out a container from the shopping bag, “that in nearly dying, I’ve discovered the fragility of life, the value of good friends, and also that Busan hospital pudding is criminally underseasoned?”

“Welcome back, Jin,” you muttered, trying not to smile.

He leaned toward you, smirk playful. “You can admit you missed me.”

“I missed the quiet.”

“You missed my voice, my charm, and possibly my abs.”

“Literally no one has ever missed your abs.”

He gasped, placing a hand to his chest. “I bled for you, Y/N.”

“You bled for yourself because you couldn’t keep your dramatic ass out of danger.”

He grinned. “And I’d do it again.”

You looked at him. His color was better. He looked strong again. Whole.

You softened just enough for him to catch it.

He leaned closer, voice lower. “You were worried.”

“I’m always worried,” you replied.

“But more so about me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe I was just thinking about how much quieter the team would be if you took medical leave forever.”

“Aw, jagiya~ I didn’t know you cared.”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, hiding your smile behind your mug.

“Alright,” Hoseok said, gathering everyone near the large screen. “No new cases for now, which means we’re doing something we haven’t done in months.”

Everyone looked up.

“Team review?” Jimin guessed.

“Profiling drills?” Taehyung added.

“Yoga?” Seokjin offered.

“A break,” Hoseok said.

Stunned silence.

“You mean like… now?” Jeongguk blinked.

“Now. Go outside. Breathe air. Be human.”

Yoongi muttered, “Sounds dangerous.”

“You earned it,” Hoseok said, quieter this time. “All of you.”

Namjoon walked in just then, coffee in hand. “He’s right. You solved a national case, saved lives, and somehow didn’t kill each other. That deserves something.”

Seokjin beamed. “What I’m hearing is: mandatory nap time.”

“I’m hearing beach day,” Jimin said, eyes lighting up.

“I’m hearing bar crawl,” Jeongguk added.

“Movie night,” you offered quietly.

They all turned to you.

Seokjin grinned. “Did she just volunteer to spend voluntary time with us?”

You groaned. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

You and Seokjin sat under the soft orange wash of sunset. The others had gone downstairs to argue over movie genres, but Seokjin had lingered.

He held a fizzy soda in one hand, his long legs stretched out across the rooftop tiles.

“You okay?” he asked.

You hesitated.

Then nodded.

“It’s weird,” you said. “The quiet.”

“It always is, after the storm.”

You looked over at him. “I thought you were going to die.”

He didn’t joke this time.

“I know,” he said softly. “I saw it in your eyes.”

You bit your lip.

“But hey,” he added, voice lighter, “at least now you know how irreplaceable I am.”

You laughed once, shaking your head. “You really never shut up, do you?”

“I just want to make you smile.”

That stopped you.

You looked at him, and he was already watching you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He grinned. “You know what I really want to thank you for?”

“What?”

“For seeing me as more than a punchline. Even when I was trying really hard to be one.”

You nudged his shoulder. “You’re annoying.”

“I’m annoying and unforgettable. A rare combination.”

He turned toward you, grin crooked.

“Now come on, profiler. Let’s go crash movie night. I call dibs on the seat next to you. For warmth. For protection. For—”

“Shut up, Jin.”

“I missed the way you say that.”

And as the sun dipped below the skyline, casting gold over SC-0’s rooftop, it felt—for just one moment—like the world had pressed pause. No shadows. No cases. Just the quiet hum of healing.

And maybe… the beginning of something else.

Your Apartment — 6:37 PM

You had never seen so many shoes lined up by your door.

Sneakers. High-tops. Jimin’s chelsea boots. Jeongguk’s combat boots (neatly aligned, oddly enough). Hoseok’s dress shoes. Seokjin’s… heeled boots?

“Are these… snakeskin?” you asked, squinting at Seokjin’s obnoxiously shiny footwear.

“Excuse me,” he said, striding past you with arms full of chips, soda, and a suspiciously large pillow. “These are fashion. You wouldn’t understand — your house slippers are crying.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but he was already dramatically flopping onto your couch like a Victorian heiress fainting into a chaise.

“This couch,” he sighed. “A bit firm. Not as firm as my abs, of course, but acceptable.”

Jeongguk passed behind him, rolling his eyes. “Hyung, your abs are from laughing at your own jokes.”

“Laughter is core work, Jeonggukie. Try it sometime instead of flexing in mirrors.”

“I flex once a day.”

“You blink at your reflection every time you pass a spoon.”

You bit back a smile. It had been five minutes, and already, your living room was an organized disaster — snacks spreading like a buffet across your coffee table, Jimin and Taehyung setting up the projector with whispered commentary, Hoseok quietly lighting a few candles you didn’t even know you owned, and Yoongi sitting calmly in your armchair like he’d lived there for years.

Home.

Somehow, they made it feel like one.

“Alright,” you announced, standing near the center of the chaos, arms crossed. “We’re watching one movie. One. Not a trilogy, not an eight-episode limited series. One movie.”

Jimin raised his hand. “Can I suggest something with feelings?”

Jeongguk groaned. “No more tearjerkers, hyung. I’m still recovering from that dog movie.”

“The dog died heroically!”

“He died! That’s all that matters!”

“Can we do something with murder?” Yoongi asked casually.

“I second that,” Taehyung said without looking up from your bookshelf.

“No murder tonight,” you said firmly. “We live in murder.”

Seokjin raised his hand dramatically. “As senior beauty officer of SC-0, I vote rom-com.”

You turned slowly. “There is no such title.”

“There is now.”

He gave you a wink, then added, “I feel like this team needs more kissing.”

“I feel like you need to be supervised.”

Eventually, after a thirty-minute debate (and one arm-wrestling match between Jeongguk and Jimin), the team agreed on a classic — Ocean’s Eleven. Stylish, funny, low blood count. A compromise.

As the lights dimmed and the movie began, everyone shifted into their roles:

Hoseok with the snack inventory.

Jimin curled up next to you like a warm blanket.

Yoongi half-asleep already.

Jeongguk focused.

Taehyung — still mysterious — watching, expression unreadable.

And Seokjin?

Still talking.

“Brad Pitt is me,” he whispered, chewing popcorn in your ear. “Charming. Iconic. Desirable.”

“Brad Pitt is silent,” you whispered back. “Take notes.”

He gasped. “I came here to be loved.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Halfway through the movie, you slipped into the kitchen, needing a break from the cozy chaos.

To your surprise, Jeongguk followed.

He leaned against your counter, holding a glass of soda, eyes soft.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Just… it’s weird. Having people here.”

He smiled. “Good weird?”

You thought about it. The noise. The warmth. The fact that you hadn’t checked your work email in hours.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Good weird.”

Jeongguk looked around your kitchen. “This place suits you.”

“How?”

“It’s clean. Soft colors. Feels like someone who’s learning how to be safe again.”

You blinked. The comment went deeper than expected. He didn’t mean your decor.

You leaned against the opposite counter, facing him.

“You’re good at reading people.”

He shrugged. “I think everyone deserves someone who notices them.”

You smiled. “Thanks for noticing me.”

He tilted his head, his smile widening like sunlight. “You feel like a big sister, you know?”

You choked on your sip of water. “I’m not that old.”

He laughed. “Not old. Safe.”

You looked at him. And you knew, in that moment, that you’d protect him without hesitation.

He felt like home, too.

Back in the living room, the movie had ended, but no one had moved.

Yoongi had fallen asleep.

Taehyung was still flipping through your books.

Jeongguk and Hoseok were arguing over who could beat who in poker.

Seokjin… had somehow taken your throw blanket, wrapped it around his shoulders like a cape, and was now strutting around your living room doing impressions.

“I’m Brad Jin,” he declared. “I rob casinos and hearts.”

“You rob peace,” you called from the kitchen.

He strutted toward you, dramatic as ever. “Do I make your heart race, Profiler Y/N?”

“I’d like to see if your ego fits out the door.”

“Is that a yes?”

You turned away, hiding a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “you let me in.”

You didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. His voice was too soft this time. Too real.

Then, mercifully — chaos.

“Seokjin, stop flirting and help clean!” Jeongguk called.

“Jeongguk, stop speaking and go be tall somewhere else!” Seokjin snapped back.

You laughed. Loudly this time.

And it felt good.

It felt like light again.

The team filtered out slowly, like reluctant ghosts.

Jeongguk had to leave first; he said he was meeting a friend.

Jimin hugged you tightly. “Next time, I’m picking the movie.”

“Deal.”

Yoongi nodded, half-awake. “Decent snacks.”

Hoseok fist-bumped you and whispered, “If Jin starts talking about abs again, I’m reporting him.”

Taehyung lingered at the door, eyes soft. “You make space for people. That’s rare.”

Then he left, just as quietly as he’d arrived.

Finally, it was just you and Seokjin.

He stood in your kitchen again, looking strangely serious now. The blanket still hung off his shoulders.

“You’re really okay?” he asked.

You nodded.

“I wasn’t sure,” he said. “After everything.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” you admitted.

He looked at you. The one that holds something back but wants to give it anyway.

“Thanks for letting us in,” he said.

“You’re the loudest houseguest I’ve ever had.”

“I’m also the most beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes. “Debatable.”

He stepped closer.

And you didn’t move away.

“I’m staying for five more minutes,” he said.

“Why?”

“To make sure you’re not lonely.”

You smiled.

“I’m not,” you whispered.

And when he smiled back, it felt like a beginning.

Not of a case.

Not of a threat.

Just something good.

The door clicked shut behind Taehyung, the last to leave, and you were left in a quiet so soft, it felt like an apology.

You turned around to find Seokjin still standing there, arms crossed, eyes roaming your bookshelf like he wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

“You said five more minutes,” you said softly.

He didn’t look at you.

“I lied,” he murmured.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you crossed the room slowly and sat back on the couch, drawing your knees to your chest. Your place smelled like buttered popcorn and candle wax. Your chest still ached from how much you’d laughed earlier.

But now… the stillness felt different.

Seokjin finally turned. No grin. No joke. Just him—quiet, present, his voice steady.

“Can I stay longer?”

You nodded.

He moved to sit beside you, a bit closer than earlier. Not too close. Just enough that you could feel his warmth radiating between you.

You both stared at the dark screen where the movie had ended. For a moment, you didn’t speak. It was the kind of silence you only found with someone who already knew how much noise lived in your mind.

He broke it first.

“You know, I wasn’t always like this,” he said. “Loud. Ridiculous.”

You looked at him.

“I mean—I was always handsome, obviously,” he added, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped.

“But I used to be someone else entirely.”

You waited.

“I worked as an investigator for the Seoul Metro Crimes Unit. Five years. Thought I’d climb the ladder, change the system from the inside. Then… things changed.”

His voice dropped.

“There was a case. A missing girl. Not high-profile, just one of the many. But I knew her. She used to bring her grandma to the precinct every Wednesday for welfare check-ins.”

He swallowed hard.

“I found her three weeks too late. And even then—it wasn’t me. A stranger hiking in the mountains found what was left of her. I’d missed something in the early days. A pattern. A man no one noticed. I let my gut override the data.”

You looked at him carefully. “What did you do?”

“I resigned,” he said. “Before they could bury me with guilt. Before the silence became louder than the sirens. I walked out. Packed up. Didn’t look back.”

“You became a private investigator.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, tired. “You don’t need permission to care about people in this job. You just need instinct. And enough coffee to drown a city.”

The quiet returned.

You reached for your water, but your hand was shaking.

Seokjin noticed. “What is it?”

You looked down.

“I haven’t told anyone on this team what actually happened,” you said. “About why I was pulled from the Emily Park case. Why Namjoon made that decision.”

He turned toward you fully. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you said. “Because it doesn’t matter how many cases I solve now. People still look at me and see the one I got wrong.”

He waited.

You exhaled.

“She was the fourth girl,” you whispered. “Emily Park. Little kid from Boston. One of five victims we were trying to protect. I was still new—young, sharp. People were calling me the prodigy from Quantico. I was fast. Too fast.”

Seokjin’s expression didn’t change. But you felt him listening, fully, deeply.

“I studied the unsub and said he was spiraling—acting out of impulse, not structure. So I shortened the surveillance radius. I told the Boston field office we could reallocate the teams.”

You paused.

“And that night, she died.”

Your voice cracked on the last word.

You didn’t cry. You couldn’t. It was like your body had already cried all the tears it had for her—months ago, in a hotel bathroom you couldn’t sleep in, in the silence after Namjoon pulled you from the case and said, in the softest voice, ‘This isn’t punishment. It’s protection.’

“She was killed by his accomplice,” you said. “We didn’t even know he had one. We thought he was a solo actor. My profile didn’t account for that. It couldn’t. But no one cared. They said I rushed the judgment. Let my ego drive the case.”

Seokjin was still. Reverent, even.

“I wasn’t allowed to speak publicly. The Bureau shut it down to avoid panic. But internally…” You laughed once, bitter. “People hated me. Not in words. In looks. In how fast I stopped being invited to meetings.”

“And Namjoon?” he asked softly.

“He was the only one who stood by me,” you said. “Even when I couldn’t look at myself. He told me that I wasn’t wrong—I was just human.”

You looked at Seokjin.

“I don’t know why he asked me back.”

“I do,” Seokjin said.

You blinked.

“He asked you back because you didn’t stop caring.”

You looked down.

“I’ve watched you in the field,” he went on. “You profile people like you’re looking for their soul. You walk into crime scenes and try to find the human first, not just the pattern. And yeah—you made a call. A wrong one. But I’d take someone who bleeds when they’re wrong over someone who feels nothing when they’re right.”

The silence between you was thick, but not heavy.

Then he added, quietly:

“Thank you for telling me.”

You looked up, throat tight. “Thank you for staying.”

He gave a small smile. “Turns out, I’m really bad at goodbyes.”

You exhaled a laugh, then leaned back against the couch.

“Five more minutes,” you said.

He smiled, mirroring you.

“I’ll take hours.”

And this time, you didn’t stop him.

Sunday Morning — 9:47 AM

Your Apartment

The washing machine hummed like a distant lullaby in the corner. Warm sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, painting soft gold across your kitchen tiles. A mug of coffee sat forgotten near your laundry basket, and a small, quiet part of you felt at peace — or at least, the closest to it in months.

You folded a t-shirt and let out a slow sigh.

Your phone rang.

Mom.

You didn’t even need to check. The ringtone was old — a snippet of a trot song she used to sing while cleaning.

You answered. “Hi, Eomma.”

Her voice was instantly warm and familiar. “Aigoo, Y/N. You finally picked up. I’ve been calling since yesterday.”

“I know. Sorry. It’s been… busy.”

“You always say that.” Her tone wasn’t angry, just tired. “I saw you on the news again. Not your face, of course. Just ‘SC-0 profiler returns to scene after hiatus.’” A pause. “You’re really back in that world?”

You sat on the floor next to the laundry basket, letting your shoulders rest against the wall.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I am.”

Silence filled the line for a beat.

“You said you wouldn’t go back.”

“I know.”

She sighed.

“I just worry. All those cases, the things you see… You came home last time and couldn’t sleep without crying in the bathroom. You think I didn’t hear you?”

You closed your eyes.

“I remember, Mom.”

She exhaled. “You’re my only daughter. I don’t need you to be successful. I need you to be alive. And okay.”

“I’m trying to be.”

“Promise me something.”

You swallowed. “What?”

“No matter what happens — don’t forget your mother. Call me even if it’s just to say you’re tired. Let me carry some of your tired, okay?”

You didn’t speak. Your throat closed too tightly for words.

Then, from the hallway outside your door—

A loud knock. Followed by louder shouting.

“Y/N-AH!! I bring peace! I bring gifts! I bring… PEPPERONI!”

Your mom paused. “Is that a man’s voice?”

You sighed, biting back a laugh. “Unfortunately.”

“I knew it! You finally got a boyfriend!”

“He’s not my—”

The door burst open. Seokjin, wearing sunglasses, a god-awful pineapple print shirt, and holding two boxes of pizza above his head like Simba in The Lion King, marched in dramatically.

“Did someone order salvation?”

You stared. “How did you even get in?”

“You gave me your key code last night, remember? I told you I’d only use it in emergencies. This is an emergency. You were about to commit a crime — folding laundry without pizza!”

On the phone, your mom’s voice perked up. “He sounds handsome.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Tell your boyfriend to eat well!”

“She said you sound handsome,” you muttered, blushing.

Seokjin smirked, kicking off his shoes. “As she should.”

You ended the call, stood up, and crossed your arms as he sauntered into your kitchen like he paid rent. He plopped the boxes down and opened them with a magician’s flourish.

“One pepperoni, one bulgogi. You’re welcome. I expect applause.”

You just blinked. “It’s 10:15 in the morning.”

“There is no wrong time for pizza. Only wrong people.”

You gave up and took a slice.

Seokjin flopped on your couch, legs wide, sunglasses still on. “So. Sunday is your no-work day?”

“Supposed to be.”

“Then we’re watching Return of Superman reruns and judging parenting styles.”

You sat beside him. “You’re unhinged.”

He turned dramatically. “Unhinged? Unhinged?! I was nearly shot in the spleen for you! I brought healing carbs! I wore my pineapple shirt for serotonin!”

“I was on the phone with my mom.”

“Ah.” He nodded solemnly. “Did she approve of me?”

“Didn’t even meet you.”

“But she heard me. That’s all it takes.”

You groaned and leaned back into the couch.

After a moment, the teasing faded into something softer.

He glanced at you, sunglasses pushed up into his hair now. “How are you really?”

You hesitated.

Then: “Better. The quiet helps.”

He nodded, uncharacteristically serious. “I like you like this.”

You turned. “Like what?”

“Home. Hair a little messy. Hoodie five sizes too big. No clipboard. Just… you.”

You looked down at your pizza slice. “You’re weirdly good at being annoying and genuine in the same breath.”

“I’m talented like that.”

A beat passed.

“I talked to my mom about going back to my job,” you admitted. “She didn’t even know the full story of Emily Park.”

“Are you glad you told her?”

“I think I needed to hear her say I could still be okay.”

Seokjin studied you for a moment. Then, he held out his pizza slice.

“Cheers?”

You bumped your crust against his with a small smile.

“Cheers.”

The pizza boxes were half-eaten. The living room floor was a mess of blankets and mismatched socks. On screen, a rerun of Return of Superman played quietly.

Seokjin had dozed off. You were half-curled on your side, watching him snore lightly, arm thrown over his face like he was modeling for a sleepwear commercial.

You shook your head with a quiet laugh.

Maybe some things were still scary.

Maybe your job was still a minefield.

But right now?

Your heart felt light.

Seokjin stirred suddenly. “Are you staring at me because you’ve realized I’m devastatingly attractive?”

“No,” you said. “I’m staring at you because you’re drooling on my blanket.”

He wiped his mouth instantly. “I don’t drool.”

You grinned. “You do.”

He smiled sleepily. “Then you’re lucky I like you. Drool and all.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just curled deeper into your spot and let the moment hold you both.

It was a Sunday. There were no monsters.

Just laundry, pizza… and someone who stayed.

SC-0 Headquarters — Sunday, 4:02 PM

You didn’t expect to be at HQ today.

It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday — leftover pizza, overdue laundry, and ignoring Namjoon’s well-meaning emails with subject lines like “Mental Health and Crime Scene Debriefs.”

But Hoseok had texted you around 3:30 p.m.

“Emergency briefing. Come now. Bring Seokjin.”

No context. No names. Just urgency.

Now you sat in the dim briefing room, warm light pooling over the table, the team slowly trickling in.

Seokjin beside you, hair damp from a rushed shower, still chewing the last bite of toast. Yoongi entered silently, eyes narrowed. Taehyung, all dark eyes and unreadable posture, sat in the corner. Jimin slipped into the chair beside you and asked, “Do you know what’s going on?”

You shook your head. “Hoseok hasn’t said.”

Namjoon entered next, sleeves rolled, face unreadable. He looked like he hadn’t slept since last night.

“Thank you for coming in,” he began. “Something happened early this morning. A body was found in Songdo. Young woman. Twenty-four. College graduate.”

He clicked a button and her photo appeared on the screen.

“Kang Areum.”

Pretty. Soft smile. Eyes like she still trusted the world.

“She was found dead in her apartment at 6:40 a.m. today. Blunt force trauma to the head. Initial signs suggest assault, but full autopsy is pending.”

You felt the air shift. Something was off.

Namjoon looked heavier. Not just as your boss—but like a man delivering a message he hated.

He clicked again.

CCTV footage appeared on the monitor.

A wide-angle shot from outside a bar. Familiar neon signs. A timestamp: 2:17 a.m.

Two figures. One male. One female. Walking together.

Namjoon zoomed in.

Your heart stopped.

Jeongguk.

He was in a hoodie, hair down, one hand on the girl’s back like he was keeping her steady. She looked disoriented, leaning into him.

Another frame: Jeongguk opening a passenger door to a car.

Another: Jeongguk helping her into the building.

“That’s impossible,” Jimin said under his breath.

“Jeongguk left your house early last night,” Namjoon said. “Said he was meeting a friend near Hongdae. We now know he met Kang Areum. A few hours later, she was dead. He hasn’t answered calls since this morning.”

Silence fell like snowfall.

And then—

The door opened.

Footsteps echoed through the hallway.

You turned just as two uniformed officers walked Jeongguk in.

Your Jeongguk. The bright, fearless, endlessly loyal teammate who stayed late to run code and still brought extra coffee just in case you forgot to eat.

Handcuffed.

His black hoodie was wrinkled. Eyes bloodshot. Hair messy like he hadn’t slept. He looked like a version of himself you’d never seen.

But worse than that—

He looked betrayed by the world.

“I didn’t do it,” he said immediately, locking eyes with Namjoon. “Hyung, I swear. I drove her home because she didn’t feel well. That’s it.”

Jimin stood up. “You’re not serious. You think Jeongguk—”

“She was fine when I left her!” Jeongguk shouted. “I made sure she got inside, I swear—”

“CCTV says otherwise,” one of the officers interrupted.

Jeongguk shook his head wildly. “I didn’t hurt her! I didn’t even go inside her apartment!”

You stood slowly. “Wait. Everyone slow down.”

“His fingerprints were on her door,” the officer said. “Neighbors saw him helping her in.”

“He helped her,” you said sharply. “That’s not a crime.”

“Not unless you’re the last person seen with the victim.”

Seokjin stood next. His voice, usually comedic, was sharp as glass.

“You’re arresting him based on a few blurry frames and fingerprints on a door he opened to assist someone?”

“I’m not resisting arrest,” Jeongguk said to the officers, breathing hard. “But please let them investigate. Let my team look.”

He turned toward you. His eyes were full of something you hadn’t seen in him before.

Not fear.

Desperation.

Like he didn’t know where else to turn.

“Y/N-noona,” he said softly. “Please.”

You swallowed hard.

You’d seen liars. Manipulators. Men who wore their innocence like a costume.

But this?

This wasn’t that.

Your chest burned.

“Y/N-noona,” he breathed. “Please. I didn’t do this.”

His voice cracked like glass. He took a step forward, then stopped, as if afraid even that would make things worse.

“I swear I just drove her home. She felt sick at the bar. I couldn’t leave her alone like that. I stayed with her till she got to the door. That’s it. I didn’t even go inside.”

Your vision blurred. You blinked quickly, trying to hold the tears in. Stay composed. Don’t break. You didn’t get to break.

“I know what this looks like, but I didn’t hurt her,” he said again, louder now, almost to Namjoon. “Hyung, I swear—please tell them to look again. Don’t let them pin this on me.”

And then softer, just for you.

“Noona… please believe me.”

His doe eyes, wide with desperation, pleaded for me to believe him.

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out.

Because you did.

You believed him with every cell in your body.

But you had no proof.

Not yet.

One tear slipped down your cheek. You wiped it away before anyone could notice, straightening your back and holding your breath until the ache dulled.

Namjoon stood. “We’ll let due process run its course. You’ll have a lawyer, Jeongguk. We’ll cooperate fully.”

The officer moved to guide Jeongguk toward the door.

He resisted, just a second. Turned back to you.

“Y/N. Not yet. Please.”

“I didn’t do it,” he whispered. “You know me.”

You nodded, finally, and the smallest breath left your chest. He must’ve seen the crack in your face, the way your shoulders squared, even as your heart twisted.

“We’ll prove it,” you whispered back, so only he could hear.

He looked at you then. Gently, but firmly.

The officers escorted Jeongguk away. You didn’t miss how his hands were trembling in the cuffs. Or the way he looked over his shoulder the whole time — not at the officers.

At you.

At the team.

At the only people who might believe him.

Then he was gone.

Chapter 6

Hi lovely readers!

Thank you for reaching this point in the story!

I’m still new to the mystery/crime genre, and each chapter has been a challenge—but also an exciting chance to grow. I’ve been doing a lot of research and learning as I go, all in the hope of creating a story that truly connects with readers like you.

Chapter 5 introduces a new case that will be especially challenging—for both the characters and for me as a writer. I really poured myself into this one, so I hope it keeps you curious and invested.

If you have any feedback, thoughts, or even just a quick reaction, I’d love to hear from you. Your support genuinely means the world and helps me keep improving.

Thanks again for being here. ♡

9 notes · View notes