Archive of Our Own ^beta

JIMIN

mood: saw you in a dream – the japanese house

When Jimin leaves, the sky looks like it’s going to crack open at every place where lightning strikes. The storm is bitter that day, vengeful and violent, as though the Universe itself is angry at Jimin for trying to go. But the train heading north doesn’t seem to take note of the weather or the world, and so Jimin vanishes from his hometown at 19 with headphones in his ears, ignoring the sound of wind and rain lashing out at the thick glass windows. 

The mornings are dark in Busan at 5AM in October, and even though Jimin gets on the first train of the day, he still feels like he narrowly escapes the thing he’s trying to leave behind. It seems that if the train had run at a second’s delay, he would have never been able to slip by. It isn’t exactly the birthday out of one of the coming of age stories he’d been told growing up, but in every lifetime, the day Jimin turns 19 always sends him hurtling straight for the only constant he’s ever had. The Universe, even across lifetimes, has only been faithful to Jimin in one way: Jeon Jeongguk always appears to him in Busan on his 19th birthday. Jeon Jeongguk – the person Jimin is destined to hate. 

For as far back as Jimin can remember now, Jeongguk has been spiteful in every life. He always comes to Jimin with his strong knit eyebrows that accompany his sneer, but he only flashes that sharp tongue of his after Jimin has gotten past his façade of shyness. He’s consistently rude, baselessly angry, and every time he and Jimin collide, they remain unable to escape each other and their personal war for the rest of their lives. It’s been forever like this, but this time Jimin has reached one 19 too many. He isn’t sure why this life feels different. Usually, at 19, he hasn’t quite lived long enough to understand how a life hating Jeongguk would come to weigh him down. 

Despite all of that, he feels a sense of clarity when he finally decides to leave Busan. He knows he probably won’t be able to avoid Jeongguk forever – they’ve never had a lifetime without each other – but they always have the same beginning. They meet at the same time of their lives, in the same city, and a new conflict always brings the same result. It almost seems too simple to Jimin that just getting up and leaving will buy him time, but something tells him it will be enough. He’s tired of wasting all of his lives by choosing to live angrily. He’s done thundering. He wants to live without rage, and he knows that the only way to escape that feeling is to live without Jeongguk. 

At least, for as long as he can. 

So at 19, he goes. 

Five years later, and the memory of a train ride still feels fresh, even though he probably shouldn’t be able to envision it so perfectly. Five years later, and not a day goes by that Jimin doesn’t think about the four hours he sat alone in his solemn train car, rushing forward even though he felt like every force on earth was tugging him back from where he came. 

✧

Today, there’s a storm on the horizon. He can see it from the hillside on which he stands, but he and Namjoon hike anyway. He ignores the thing in his chest pulling him back to his origin point. If Namjoon notices anything off with Jimin, he doesn’t say. Instead, he rattles off the names of the plants they see on the trail, mourning spring and celebrating summer all at once. As he laments the last of the wisteria, he welcomes the tiger lillies. This is something Jimin can’t help but love about Namjoon. For as long as they’ve known each other now, he never pries. Jimin sometimes wonders if Namjoon finds him hard to read, or if it’s actually just the opposite. Maybe Jimin is such an open book that Namjoon hardly feels the need to ask. 

Regardless, his presence is comforting, and Jimin knows that if he ever needed to talk about his past lives, Namjoon would probably listen so closely that it would feel as if he was right there by Jimin’s side during every single one of them. 

Jimin watches him reach down to pluck a wildflower from the grass, his boots raising a cloud of dust. Jimin squats next to him, hair falling in his eyes as he plucks a flower of his own. He tucks the stem behind his ear, because he knows it’ll get Namjoon to smile. 

“Your hair is so much longer now than when we met,” Namjoon says. 

That makes Jimin laugh, because they met years ago, as soon as Jimin had settled a life for himself in Seoul. How many haircuts he’s had in that time, he can’t even begin to say. “You met me right after I finished my military service,” Jimin giggles. “Of course my hair was short.” 

“Ah, feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” Namjoon sighs. 

The two of them laugh again, an inside joke. Both of them know very well exactly how long it feels to live an entire lifetime. As old souls, Jimin and Namjoon have each lived more lives than they can remember now. 

“Don’t have quite the abs that I did back then,” Jimin laughs, briefly picking up his shirt to peer down at his flat, toned abdomen. 

Namjoon smiles at him. “But your haircut is better.” 

Jimin just sticks his tongue out at him. They keep walking, drifting in and out of conversation however the trail guides them to. Most of the time, they don’t hike to the tops of the mountains they visit. The view is good all the time, and the real reason they go on these hikes at all is not because they care to look down on things – their main concern is just getting away from life for a little while. If there was a way beneath the city instead of above it, surely they’d try that, too. 

To Jimin, it does feel like he’s spent a long time in Seoul now, though perhaps in the grand scheme of things, it’s only been an instant. When he left Busan, he enlisted in the military and disappeared, using those months of mandatory service as a reason to focus on himself. When he reemerged, he didn’t feel very different. He was young, and his short hair was still growing out. He met Namjoon on the very trail where they walk now, looking east at the same sunrise. 

The clouds creep closer as they work their way uphill, but unusual for summer, the storm seems to move slowly. After they strain their thighs heaving their bodies up a set of rickety wooden stairs, they happen upon an empty bench looking over a cliffside. They sit without question. 

Staring out at the mountains sloping gently into one another, Jimin feels the sudden impulse to look over his shoulder. His neck snaps to peer behind him at nothing before he can stop himself. He flinches at his own reaction, wishing he had better control over the little signs that Fate sends him. He’s always being told to look out. 

“Hyung,” Jimin says suddenly, “have we ever talked about soulmates?” 

Namjoon turns to him pensively, carding a hand through the long, chocolatey brown hair that runs down to the nape of his neck. “No, I don’t think so,” he finally replies. He’s smiling. “I’ve known you for three years, and somehow we’ve managed to miss out on one of my favorite topics.” 

Jimin casts his gaze away, kicking a flat stone with the toe of his boot and instantly being reminded of the way he used to skip ones just like that back in Busan. Images of his parents come to him, and even though he’s unsure if they’ll hear it, Jimin sends them a message with his love. He’ll call them later, too, but sometimes he feels compelled to reach out to them in other ways. They’re kind in this lifetime. They know why Jimin left, and they encouraged him to go. It seems that they wanted peace for their son just as badly as he wants it for himself. 

“But don’t think I don’t notice the way you get tense when the subject comes up,” Namjoon tacks on after an instant. If it were anyone else, Jimin would think perhaps he’s getting teased for being so sensitive, but Namjoon seems to be extending an invitation for Jimin to talk about his feelings, if he so wishes. 

Still, Jimin grimaces. “Am I so obvious?” he asks with a wry smile. 

Namjoon shrugs. “Not really,” he replies. “I mean, I notice that you go tense, but I couldn’t tell you why it happens, so I wouldn’t call it obvious to me.” 

“Ah,” says Jimin. It’s not so obvious to himself, either. 

“Do you not like them?” Namjoon asks casually, curiously. 

Jimin pauses, swinging his feet just above the trail where they dangle off the bench. “Hmm, that’s not it,” he replies honestly. “Do you?” 

Namjoon smiles easily. “I mean, I don’t have one. Or at least, I don’t know if I do, so I’m not sure if it’s a matter of how much I like soulmates as something that affects me. But if we’re talking conceptually, I really enjoy the subject. People are so defensive about it. It’s funny how something that used to be so widely accepted is now… contested. It’s been turned into some kind of myth.” 

“They’re real,” Jimin says firmly, without thinking. 

Namjoon seems surprised by his sudden response. “You think?” he asks. 

His eyes are sparkling. 

“I mean, so do you, right?” argues Jimin. 

Namjoon smiles again. Even when subdued, he’s bright and indisputably wise. Jimin wishes that this wasn’t the first life that they met. He wishes it wouldn’t be the last. 

“I do,” says Namjoon softly. “I’ve heard way too many stories about them that just can’t be made up.” 

Jimin furrows his brow. Namjoon has always been one for logic and reason, but his answer somehow lacks the depth that Jimin has come to expect from him. “That’s why you believe in them?” Jimin asks. It comes out sounding more like, that’s the only reason you believe in them? 

Namjoon’s grin widens. He leans a little closer to Jimin, like he’s telling a secret. “That, and I’m a romantic. But I guess those are one in the same. Finding comfort in stories is a pretty romantic thing, is it not?” 

Jimin bites his lip. He feels like he’s been caught in a white lie, seeing flashes of the beautiful stories about soulmates his dad would tell him when he was young, when he would get glimpses into his past lives that he didn’t quite understand yet. At that age, memories from past lives feel like vivid dreams. It takes a long time to learn that those dreams are really pieces of a very truthful reality. A history that belongs to him, that he once built on his own. 

“I guess you’re right,” Jimin admits sheepishly. 

Namjoon’s dark eyes continue to catch the light, no matter the clouds rolling in. “Are you a romantic, Jimin-ah?” he murmurs. He stretches his arms over the back of the bench. “I think I have an idea of how you feel about those kinds of things, but it’s kind of fun to think about how people perceive themselves.” 

Namjoon would find such a thing fun. He’s always looking to analyze, but never to the point where he’d pick someone apart. 

Jimin looks down at his feet again, and then over his shoulder, in the direction he had flinched just a few minutes ago. East. “Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t.” 

Namjoon hums, watches the flowers sway in the wind from the coming storm. Then he says, “Ohh,” drawing out the syllable. Jimin can’t be sure if he’s agreeing, understanding, or if he simply has nothing else to say. Jimin might not know if Namjoon finds him easy to read, but after all these years of friendship, there are certainly still times when he can’t read Namjoon. 

Jimin takes his response as an excuse to stay nothing in return, and when they walk back down, Jimin can’t help but look South, then East. The mountains always draw him back in the direction of where the sun starts the day, back from where he came. It’s not always easy to keep on trodding forward; he can’t help but look for the thing that he left behind. No matter how happy he is to be without it, he also can’t help but focus on the fact that something is missing. 

It’s not so effortless, to act against Fate. 

Later that evening, when he and Namjoon part ways, they’re both drenched in the rain that had finally caught up to them. He passes the school that now feels like home. He drifts past some of the shops where his friends work. Wandering through the city helps him feel like he’s truly built a life for himself, and it’s these moments that he finds it easier not to think about the things that tug him into the past. By now, he feels like he’s found as much peace as he’ll get. 

He’s thrown himself into dancing, and it’s his refuge. It’s far less complicated to just give his emotions to his art. They feel less like his own, then. 

Tonight, as he walks home, he tells himself that the streets only feel familiar because he’s walked them for three years now. He ignores the voice in the back of his mind that tries to remind him that the foreign air of Seoul had felt familiar since the moment he’d arrived. Dimly-lit crosswalks and the kiss of the Han River at its banks always whisper to Jimin that he’s lived many lives here. Even when he allows himself to admit it, he just tries not to think about who it was with – regardless of the fact that there’s only one soul in this world who has ever transcended more than one of Jimin’s lives. 

The only person who’s come close to proving him wrong is Taehyung, who’s waiting for Jimin at the front door of their apartment with a warm towel when he gets home. Instead of handing it to Jimin, he holds it open in his arms and wraps Jimin up into a fluffy hug to dry Jimin himself, reading Jimin’s expression almost instantaneously. 

“Are you sad, my Jimin-ah?” Taehyung murmurs, fluffing Jimin with his towel. 

Jimin smiles, and it reaches his eyes. He wriggles out of the hug and then out of his wet shoes. “No, don’t worry, Taehyung. I was just thinking on my walk home.” 

“About what?” Taehyung asks, moving back into the space of their tiny apartment and curling up on the couch. “Is something bothering you?” 

Jimin smiles again, so fond of Taehyung and the sheer depth of his heart. “No more than it usually does. How about I go wash up, and then we can talk about it?” 

Jimin’s voice is a little shaky as he says the words, but as soon as they’re out, he knows there’s no taking them back. Since he left Busan, Jimin has never once tried to talk about Jeongguk. He’s never told anyone that there’s never been any continuity in any of his past lives. He’s never openly mourned the fact that this first life with all of his new friends will also be their last together. He has only ever gotten one lifetime with everyone he’s ever known – except Jeongguk. 

In most cases, people encounter friends or enemies or even lovers from past lives all of the time. It’s not unusual to associate old emotions from a former life with a person they’re just meeting in a new one. While a little jarring to experience, it’s common. Everyone accepts the emotions of their past lives when they come. In fact, they’re sometimes revered even more than the emotions of the present. They’re meant to be trusted beyond any emotions that come in the newest life cycle. The stronger the impression souls make on one another, the more distinctly memories of past lives arrive. It’s not strange for people to see someone who they loved in a past life and feel that emotion so distinctly that they’re able to envision moments with that person that happened hundreds of years ago. 

Even though Jeongguk wasn’t at that train station the day Jimin left Busan, Jimin still felt his presence as though he were.  

“Okay, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung murmurs softly. “Want some tea?”

His tone tells Jimin that he senses Jimin’s seriousness right away. Normally, when Jimin comes home after a hike, Taehyung will pounce on him, ask him about his Namjoon-hyung and place wet kisses all over Jimin’s cheeks. Moments like these, when he is so attuned to Jimin’s emotions, are the only instances that make Jimin doubt that they did not know each other in a life before this one. 

Jimin showers quickly so Taehyung doesn’t have to wait too long while he’s worried. Jimin doesn’t bother to dry his hair, and he’s rushing back into the living room clad in soft pajamas just as Taehyung is pouring the steaming tea into mugs. They press against one another on the couch, Taehyung’s plaid clashing against Jimin’s gingham where Jimin’s folded knee rests on top of Taehyung’s thigh. 

Jimin cradles his tea carefully, watching the steam rise up and then disappear. He’s not sure where to start. Taehyung is warm next to him. His presence alone is enough to make Jimin feel just a little more calm, but he knows it’s not enough to quell the nervousness he feels. He pulls at a loose thread on the inseam of his pants, unravelling navy from white. 

“Do you have friends in this lifetime who you knew in the past?” Jimin asks quietly. 

He knows the answer, of course. They’re Jimin’s friends, too. Most of Jimin’s friends are people he met through Taehyung as it is, except for Namjoon, with whom Jimin’s first encounter had been a strange twist of Fate. The man Jimin stumbled into on a woodsy trail also happened to be his new roommate’s close friend. Moments like these made Jimin want to sneer in Fate’s face. Why would he be guided to such beautiful people only to be ripped from them upon his death? 

Taehyung is fully aware that Jimin already knows that he knew his hyungs in his former life, but he indulges Jimin anyway. With a soothing hand carding through Jimin’s hair and the low baritone of his voice, he starts to tell stories that Jimin has heard before. 

“I’ve known Namjoonie-hyung for as far back as I can remember,” he starts slowly. “I’ve even loved him before. My memories with him are not that clear, but sometimes we’ll be doing something together, and all I can think is, ah, we must have done this before. It feels like we’ve known each other forever. Hoseok-hyung… hm, well, how do I put this? When I introduced you to Hoseok-hyung and found out that you got accepted into his friend’s class at your school, it really felt like it was meant to be. I wanted to bow at Fate’s feet. He’s not my soulmate, not even close… but it feels like I could love him in every life. Most of my memories of my past lives are made up of the ways he’s made me laugh. And... aish… Jin-hyung. Ah, well. I don’t think we’ve spent that much time together, but I loved him as soon as I met him, as if I’d known him before. That’s the only way I can explain why I love him so deeply now. Why it was so easy to love him when I first met him.” 

He’s blushing by the time he finishes speaking, and he lolls his head onto Jimin’s shoulder to hide the color of his cheeks. He clears his throat. “There are others, but… they feel the most important. I thought you knew already though, Jimin. Are there stories you want to hear? Did you meet someone you knew before?” 

Jimin shakes his head and sips his tea. “I always love your stories about the hyungs, Taehyung, but that’s not why I asked.” Gently, he reaches for Taehyung’s hand still scratching at his scalp and lowers it into his lap. He intertwines their fingers, and when he looks up at Taehyung, his eyes are stinging. He’s sure Taehyung notices, so he squeezes his hand. “Sometimes,” Jimin starts shakily, “it feels like we knew each other before, right? But I know this is our first life together.” 

Taehyung shrugs easily, offering Jimin a soft smile. “It does feel that way sometimes, doesn’t it? It’s okay, Jimin-ah. Sometimes it takes souls thousands of years to find each other. I don’t think we’ll be separated after this life. I can’t see myself without you.” 

mood: one more time – yaeow, roiael 

Jimin swallows heavily, staring at their pale walls and trying to convince himself that it doesn’t feel like they’re closing in on him. He squeezes Taehyung’s hand again, but he doesn’t rejoin their eyes. As much as he wants to share this, he feels like he’s breaking Taehyung’s heart. At the very least, it feels like he’s breaking his own. “You know,” he croaks, “there’s only one person who I’ve met in more than one life, and he’s been in every single one of them.” 

“Yeah?” says Taehyung, doing an uncharacteristically poor job of hiding the sadness in his voice. “Who?” 

“You don’t know him,” Jimin whispers. Distantly, he hears the sound of a train whistling as it leaves the station, but he knows that’s only in his memory. “I left him as soon I knew I would find him in this life. Before he could even know I was there.” 

Taehyung shifts against him, probably jarred by hearing such a staunch rejection of Fate. “How come?” he asks. “If he’s been in all of your lives, doesn’t that mean he’s your–” 

“Yeah,” Jimin laughs wetly. “He might be my soulmate, but there’s never been a life where we don’t hate each other. It’s almost too much to bear.” He takes a shaky breath, wishing this confession would bring a catharsis but only feeling guilt instead. “I figured it would be easier to just– disappear. I knew it wouldn’t be so hard. We’re always born in the same place, in Busan. I usually meet him the day I turn 19, so I left first thing in the morning. All I had to do is pick up and go.” 

Taehyung lets go of Jimin’s hand, but before Jimin can panic, he feels the gentle touch of shapes being drawn into his palm. “How do you know he won’t follow?” wonders Taehyung softly, running his fingertip along Jimin’s lifeline. 

Jimin sighs. That’s the question, isn’t it? It’s the reason why he’s constantly looking over his shoulder. “I don’t,” he replies. “I just have to hope he doesn’t.” 

Taehyung furrows his brow, and when he speaks, he sounds even more disappointed than he did before. He looks at Jimin as if he doesn’t recognize who he’s talking to. “Do you not believe in love?” he asks hesitantly. 

Jimin’s eyes shake, filled with tears. He blinks them back, wishing he could have never made Taehyung think so lowly of him. Their whole relationship has been founded in love and the pursuit of it. He can’t blame Taehyung for being so worried and doubtful. 

He grasps Taehyung’s hand again and squeezes hard. “I do,” he croaks earnestly. “I just don’t know what it’s like. In every life… I’ve never gotten to have it. Not for real, anyway.” 

Taehyung looks at him then, and while he probably doesn’t intend for it to be pitiful, Jimin can’t help but feel it as such. “Because of him?” Taehyung asks. 

Jimin hangs his head before tucking his feet up onto the couch so he can bury his face between his knees. “I think so,” he whispers. “We’ve never really been close enough to find out.” 

Taehyung pets Jimin’s hair soothingly. “Are you mad at Fate, Jimin-ah?” he asks in a hushed tone. “For choosing him for you?” 

He pauses, but Jimin doesn’t answer just yet. He focuses on the feeling of Taehyung’s hand against the nape of his neck and tries to push back the memories of Jeongguk that appear to him from other lifetimes. In his silence, Taehyung asks another question.

“Do you know his name?” 

Jimin sits up, knowing he probably owes Taehyung eye contact and a little bit more respect than he’s giving him. Taehyung is offering him nothing but patience. Jimin shifts on the couch, curling a small hand over Taehyung’s knee and meeting his dark, warm eyes behind his glasses. Taehyung’s wavy silver hair falls on either side of his face. He looks so gorgeous and so caring that Jimin wouldn’t be surprised if most people only ever get to meet one person like this – this much beauty seems like it would be reserved for once in every thousand lives. Jimin feels lucky. 

Chewing his lip, Jimin replies. “His name is Jeongguk.” He fiddles with the soft fabric of Taehyung’s pajama pants, so Taehyung grabs his hand again to still him. “I guess… I guess you could say that I’m mad at Fate. That’s one way of putting it, but it feels kind of dirty to admit that. The reason I asked about you and the hyungs is because I wish I knew what that was like. I can hardly remember my old friends, but it doesn’t really matter that much because I know I’ll never find them again, anyway. And the reason I think that happens is because I’m pretty sure Fate is mad at me… because Jeongguk and I don’t love each other. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I don’t get to keep any of my friends. I’ve heard stories like that, y’know? Fate punishes souls because they wilfully act against it.” 

He sighs heavily and squeezes Taehyung’s hand, knowing his voice is growing strained. “Sorry if this isn’t making sense. In all my lives, I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it.” 

Taehyung gives him a kind smile, telling Jimin to keep going, that he understands. 

“And now it’s like… I’m a little bit stuck? Jeongguk and I have always hated each other, at least as far back as either of us have remembered, but I don’t even know why. I can’t remember how it started, or why those feelings always carry over. I honestly think we’re too far past the beginning to remember. But the reason I left is because I thought, hey, either way I’m acting against Fate, right? I thought this was the better choice, the less aggressive one… even though it feels a little more cowardly. Either we’re enemies or we’re strangers. The latter felt just a little less sinful.” 

When Jimin finishes speaking, he has to swallow hard. He does his best to focus on Taehyung’s touch instead of the creeping urge to close his eyes and let all of the memories of Jeongguk flood back to him. It’s strange – whenever he experiences them, no matter how full of hate they are, no matter how painful they are to remember, they’re comforting. He pushes them away nonetheless. 

“Jimin-ah, my baby,” Taehyung says in a hushed voice. He lifts his hand to Jimin’s jaw to guide their eyes together. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t easy to talk about, and I understand why you made your decision.”

Jimin does the best he can. He gives Taehyung a wobbly smile. He wonders if Taehyung really does disagree with his choices. He probably wouldn’t blame him. 

“We’ll make the best of the time we have now,” Taehyung continues. “We’ll be together for as long as we can. And if he– if Jeongguk comes, if Fate brings him to you… I promise I’ll be there for you. Please know that.” 

Jimin turns over Taehyung’s words in his mind as he would a stone between his fingers. He feels like he owes Taehyung a better justification. He wouldn’t want Taehyung to just blindly accept his decision just because they’re such close friends; he wants Taehyung to understand why he chose to leave. 

“I just wanted to stop being angry and hateful all the time,” Jimin mumbles into his lap, breaking their eye contact again. “It was exhausting. But now that I have a life that I’m so happy with, with people I love, not only do I have to live with this… constant, fucked up fear of losing them, but I’m also on edge. All the fucking time,” he croaks. He clenches his fists in the fabric of his pajama pants, but Taehyung, sweet, attentive Taehyung, is watching. He uncurls them with careful, slender fingers. Jimin licks his lips to finish. “It’s like– I’m always jumpy. I always feel like I have to look over my shoulder, in case Fate gets angry with me again, or if Jeongguk ends up finding me, and we fight.” 

Jimin takes in a long inhale when he finishes talking, like speaking those words alone had been an uphill battle and left him short of breath. 

Taehyung runs a soothing pattern over Jimin’s knuckles. “I can’t imagine a life like that,” Taehyung murmurs softly. It’s nice to hear his voice so low and gentle like this. Normally Taehyung is alight with energy. It’s not very often that Jimin sees him slow down. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a life full of anger like that, at least not that I can remember.” 

A tear pushes at the corner of Jimin’s eye, and he blinks hard to stop it in its tracks. “You’re too good, Taehyung-ah,” mumbles Jimin. “You’re not an angry person.” 

 Taehyung squeezes Jimin’s hand and looks at him fiercely. “Neither are you, Jimin-ah,” he insists. “Sometimes we can’t help the way the past controls us. Even the strongest people can’t ignore their past lives. It’s just the way we’re wired. We all have to figure out how to balance the past and the present.” 

Jimin knows that Taehyung is right, but guilt still makes it hard to admit. “I guess…” 

Taehyung extends his arms to cup Jimin’s face with both hands. He forces their eyes to stay locked. Normally, when Taehyung has Jimin like this, he’ll be grinning, squishing Jimin’s cheeks and poking at his freckles. Right now, he’s solemn and serious. It quite nearly sends a chill through Jimin to see him this way. 

“You aren’t made of anger, Jimin,” Taehyung mutters somberly. “You have to believe me. You’re one of the happiest, kindest, and gentlest souls that I’ve ever gotten to know. And you know what I think? We were supposed to be together, to bicker and play and laugh together. Fate has never let me feel that for someone who’s anything less than good. You’re good, Jimin-ah. And you’re a piece of me forever, whether or not we’re together in our next life.” 

Jimin’s rapid blinking is futile against the few tears that slip down his face, but he smiles, placing his little hand on top of Taehyung’s big one where it still presses against his cheek. “I love you, Taehyung,” Jimin says softly, voice thick and throat tight. “I’m sorry for this mess. I’ve – in any life – I’ve never told anyone about this. About Jeongguk being my soulmate, or the way we hate each other, or the fact that I don’t get to keep my friends. It almost feels forbidden to share.” 

Taehyung cocks his head, his soft brown eyes swelling with concern. Jimin watches them shift, the spark coming back to them, that little glint of mischievous magic that always runs within Taehyung. 

“Fate might be watching you, Jimin-ah,” he starts slowly, “but if you were really meant to be lonely, you wouldn’t have met me, hm?” 

Somehow his words are as silly as they are serious, and Taehyung’s devilish grin and impossible ego are enough to get Jimin brimming with laughter. Taehyung lunges as Jimin begins to spill over, giggling and squirming as Taehyung digs his fingers into Jimin’s sides and tickles him until Jimin is asking for mercy. Jimin has to catch his breath from how hard he laughs, and as he sprawls back onto the couch and throws his legs over Taehyung’s lap, Taehyung just smiles down at him. 

His soft silver hair makes way for his warm eyes, and with a pinch to Jimin’s cheek, Taehyung murmurs easily, “I love you, my baby. We’re meant to be with one another, and I’ll listen to you no matter what, okay? You’re as close to a soulmate as I’ve ever had, so that must mean something.” 

Jimin flutters his eyes shut and lets himself relax. He pushes his face into Taehyung’s hand. Suddenly, the walls upright themselves – they feel just a little bit further away from caving in. 

“Okay,” he replies.

JEONGGUK 

mood: is it true – tame impala

Jeongguk flicks his wrist, but when the stone he’d taken so much time to choose hits the surface of the water, it sinks instead of skips. He heaves a heavy sigh, carding his hand through his hair frustratedly. 

“Won’t you just come with me?” he groans for what feels like the hundredth time. Yoongi, who sits behind him nestled in the grass that covers the sides of the mountain trail, has a penchant for making Jeongguk’s words fall deaf on his ears. 

Yoongi clicks his tongue, and Jeongguk turns away from the pond to take a look at his friend, whose thin lips are pressed into a firm line. He raises a dark eyebrow so high up his forehead that it disappears into his blonde bangs. “Why should I?” he finally says. 

Jeongguk doesn’t have a particularly convincing answer, only that Yoongi is his best friend, and that he’s a little nervous to go someplace new on his own. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to think of a reason good enough to get Yoongi to come, even though deep down he knows that Yoongi has never really said no to him before. 

“Well,” Jeongguk starts, trying to remain casual and matter-of-fact, “what if you meet your soulmate?” 

Some light catches in Yoongi’s eyes, but it disappears as he rolls them. He smacks the gum in his mouth and tosses a stone up and down in his hand. “You’re really a romantic, huh?” Yoongi snorts teasingly. “Nobody finds their soulmate anymore.” 

Jeongguk frowns, coming over to Yoongi and plopping next to him in the grass. “My parents,” Jeongguk argues even though he knows that Yoongi will brush it off. 

Jeongguk’s parents have loved each other in every life, and in every life Jeongguk has been their son. In a lot of ways, his idea of love has been modeled off of them. 

Yoongi, as predicted, waves an unimpressed hand around, voice and expression as dry as ever. This reaction, naturally, unfolds in spite of the many times Yoongi has told Jeongguk how much he admires Jeongguk’s parents and their long lasting love. “One in a million,” he mutters, “and the fact that they found each other makes it even less likely that you’ll find your soulmate. How many lives have you already lived without them?” 

Jeongguk frowns again, flinches back a little. It hurts to hear it put so bluntly. Because of his parents, Jeongguk has always believed deeply in soulmates. They’re rare, he knows that, but he’s fascinated by the idea of Fate guiding him to love. In modern times, the origin story of soulmates has been overrun by myths and fantasies, so much so that Jeongguk isn’t sure what to believe anymore. One myth suggests that he would know his soulmate as soon as he meets them, and when their eyes lock, they’d be able to see all of their past lives together. Another story suggests that every set of soulmates has a matching mark on bodies, and that’s how they know they’re a pair. The mark remains present in every life. The myth that Jeongguk wonders about the most is the one that suggests that soulmates can only truly connect with one another if they act on their love deliberately. 

He’s never fully understood what that means. Wouldn’t Fate guide people together no matter how they feel about one another? He figures that myth ought not to be true. In his head, he assumes that every set of soulmates has their own unique experiences, and once they meet for the first time, they’re together in every life thereafter. That seems to make the most sense, although he wonders if he just thinks that to comfort himself, knowing that he’s nearly never met the same soul twice. Aside from his parents, there’s only been a single person who he’s met more than once, but he couldn’t possibly be Jeongguk’s soulmate, not when they hate each other so much. 

Jeongguk reckons that the two of them are cursed. And even though Jimin hasn’t appeared in this life yet, Jeongguk knows he needs to seek him out in order to break it. 

He changes the subject on a dime, annoyed that Yoongi was able to so easily guide their conversation away from the way Jeongguk started it. 

“We weren’t talking about me, anyway,” Jeongguk mutters harshly. “I’m saying what if we found yours. ” 

“I don’t care either way,” says Yoongi dryly. He gives Jeongguk a dull look. “If we’re Fated, won’t we find each other anyway?” 

Jeongguk pouts at him, but he huffs, crossing his arms. “What if this is your calling?” he whines stubbornly. 

Yoongi’s harsh gaze only intensifies. Jeongguk knows this is all a test. It’s Yoongi’s way of making sure he’s serious about what he wants to do. “Why do you want me to pick up and move my life?” Yoongi drones. His tone says, are you sure about this? “Why do you want to pick up and move your own? We’re fine here. Like I said before, Fate does what it needs to do.” 

Jeongguk groans, exasperated. “And I told you that this feels like what I’m supposed to be doing! It eats at me every single day. I have to find him. It’s– it’s been five years since we were supposed to meet, and still, nothing. I’m constantly pulled to him even though I’m tired of having an enemy in every life. Plus, I think I know how to finally get rid of him.” 

Yoongi gives him an incredulous look. “You want him out of your life, but you’re still going to find him?” 

“Look, hyung, I’m pretty sure this is the only way,” Jeongguk mutters. “Fate cursed us, and now I’m almost positive I know how to break it. It’s that, or I’m stuck with him forever.” Trying to hold back his anger, Jeongguk stares down at his big boots crushing the grass beneath his toe. In place of rage, sadness swells in him. “I’ve wasted so many lives on him,” he whispers. 

Jeongguk feels Yoongi’s eyes on him, but when he looks up, they’re not as empathetic as he’d hope. Instead, they’re that of a stubborn hyung with too much advice, always forcing Jeongguk to think through his decisions instead of acting rashly. “And now you’re doing it again,” Yoongi says carefully. 

Jeongguk winces. He supposes it’s true. Maybe he is wasting his time chasing after Jimin, but what’s one more life in the grand scheme of things, if after all this, he can be free from the way they’re tied together? He takes a deep breath and tries to explain everything he read about this curse the other night, when he spent hours pouring over a library book. While he’s been compelled to chase after Jimin for years now, he finally found a good enough reason to actually do it. 

“Listen to me, would you?” Jeongguk snaps. “I read about it. If we love each other in this life, we’ll never have to be with each other again. We can stop hating each other. Finally.” 

Yoongi looks suspicious. His lip twitches. Carefully, he asks, “Isn’t he the only commonality you’ve ever had? Your only friend that’s lasted through lifetimes?” 

He takes a breath as if there’s something else he wants to say, but then he shuts his mouth. His obvious hesitation makes Jeongguk squirm. 

“He’s not my friend,” Jeongguk grits, “but yes, other than my parents, he’s the only one.” 

Yoongi looks weary. He stares out at the pond, starting to ripple with the wind. He already seems resigned – at this point Jeongguk knows that Yoongi is coming with him no matter what – but he gives one last push of begrudging advice anyway. “Maybe you should focus on the people you really do love in this life a little more, then. Y’know, since you’re never gonna be with them again.” 

Jeongguk whimpers, fisting some of the grass and ripping it out. His chest suddenly aches. “Hyung, that's the thing. I want to have all of my lives with my friends, just like so many other people get to. I think being with him – loving him – is the only way to make that happen. It’s like my soul is so stuck on him that I can’t find the people I really do love in more than one lifetime. Please, come with me.” 

With half a smile, Yoongi groans, “How will you even be able to find him?” 

Jeongguk sighs, letting his eyes flutter shut. He lays back into the grass, visions of Jimin on a mountain just outside of Seoul flashing behind his closed eyes. “I always do,” Jeongguk mutters. “I swear, lately, all I have to do is close my eyes, and I can trace where he is.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t bother looking up at Yoongi, but he can imagine that his hyung is pulling some kind of overly-disturbed face. “That’s freaky, Gguk.” 

Jeongguk sighs again, but he’s smiling this time. “So, you’ll come?” 

✧

They leave for Seoul the next week, and the city seems to take to them like they’re meant to be there. It’s not hard for them to pick up and go. There was hardly anything tying them down in Busan, just part-time jobs and friends who are easy to leave. Jeongguk struggles most with leaving his parents, but at least with them he knows he’ll certainly see them again, even if it’s in the next life. They find a two bedroom apartment, and even though Yoongi complains about how much smaller it is than his studio was in Busan, it’s cheap, and Jeongguk can tell he likes it. During their first few nights, Jeongguk catches him staring out their window, watching the buzz of the city like it’s calling to him. 

In those moments, Jeongguk is so grateful that Yoongi came with him – he’s not sure if he could have gone alone. 

They both have enough money to go a few days without panicking about work, but neither of them are too comfortable. They know they need to find something to keep them stable – and not just for the money. They’re both the type to need a job to make this move feel like real life. Right now, it still feels like they’re in a daydream or a fantasy, acting on a whim so crazy that soon enough everything will go back to the way it was before, back to reality. They need routine to ground them, and having a purpose beyond solely finding Jeongguk’s sworn enemy might help. 

Jeongguk finds the dance studio on his fourth day in Seoul, walking through some neighborhood he’s never heard of before while trying not to get lost. Plastered on the window, there’s a poster advertising auditions for one of the city’s dance companies. He stops in his tracks while staring at it, feeling compelled to write down the phone number but finding himself uncertain. Jeongguk had done dance in high school, but it’s been a long time since he’s been formally trained. After his military service, he never went back to study more. He’s been working odd jobs ever since, and while he still dances, it’s for fun. 

He hesitates. He has no idea what level this company dances at – he’s never heard of them, and frankly he’s a little afraid to dig deeper. And like with all things, Jeongguk finds himself nervous to be anything less than excellent. With dance, that anxiety hits just a little bit harder. It hurts most to fail at something you love. 

Chewing his lip, he’s about to decide against it, but just as he goes to turn on his heel and attempt to find his way home, someone appears next to him. At the door, keys jingling in his hand, a man offers Jeongguk a blindingly bright smile. His eyes are warm compared to the dark, deep red of his hair, and he cocks his head at Jeongguk. 

“You’ve been standing there for a while,” the stranger chirps as he unlocks the door. “Are you looking to audition?” 

“Uhh,” Jeongguk stammers. 

“Come in, if you want,” says the man over his shoulder, already heading inside the studio space. “We can talk about it.” 

Jeongguk follows without thinking. “Um, okay,” he mutters. 

The man drops his bag by the front desk and fiddles with a few things before turning to Jeongguk, flashing another easy grin. “So, do you dance, or did I just invite you in here for no reason?” he asks with a laugh. 

Jeongguk laughs too, though probably a little more awkwardly than he’d like to sound. “No, I dance,” Jeongguk replies. “Just, um. Never professionally.” 

“Ahh,” comes the reply, still friendly but sounding somewhat disappointed. “Were you looking for classes then? I have a friend who owns a dance school, and I have connections with some people at one of the arts universities in town, too. I know our building can look a little misleading from the outside.” 

“No, no,” Jeongguk is quick to say, words spilling out of him before he can try to stop himself. “I mean, I’d like to dance professionally. I just don’t know if I’m good enough.” 

Jeongguk grows a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his head, but for some reason, he knows he has no reason to be self-conscious. He doesn’t feel like he’s being judged. 

“Understandable,” the man says, pausing. His eyes are bright and welcoming. “Well, you’re more than welcome to audition, if you want. We normally scout most of our members, but every once in a while we like to hold auditions the old fashioned way and just hang up a sign. We like to look for talent that comes from other places, not just art schools. Y’know, street dancers like me, kids who dance for fun, kids who dance in classes but don’t go to school for it, older people, all of that. So don’t think you’re not what we’re looking for.” 

Jeongguk, for the first time, lets his eyes scan the studio. It’s unconventional in every sense, with a huge, colorful mural on one wall, plants coming from the ceiling and tucked into corners, and buzzing lights that hum. It’s cool. Jeongguk could see himself spending time here. 

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. 

“Oh,” Jeongguk replies, starting to smile. “That’s really cool of you guys.” 

The guy sticks out his hand, and Jeongguk grasps it. His touch is warm, and everything about him and this place is pulling Jeongguk in. Something tells him he isn’t just stumbling upon the studio by chance. 

“I’m Jung Hoseok, by the way. And thank you. I think it’d be pretty hypocritical if we didn’t do it this way, since it’s how a lot of our crew got their start.” 

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk,” Jeongguk replies. He drops Hoseok’s hand before licking his lips. He nervously pushes his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Are auditions… in front of a lot of people?”

Hoseok laughs, pouring out of him like light from the sun. “Don’t tell me you have stage fright,” he jokes. 

“No, no,” Jeongguk responds, unable to control the way he laughs, too. Stage fright probably wouldn’t add up too well with being a performer. He blushes. “I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve danced, and I don’t know what you’re looking for. I just don’t wanna be… awkward.” 

Hoseok offers a reassuring smile before reaching for a card from the table by the front door. He holds it out to Jeongguk, who takes it without hesitation. HOPE Studio, written on a piece of cheery yellow cardstock. Jeongguk tucks it into his wallet. 

“Well, how about you watch some of our videos on YouTube, read our website, and then, if you’re interested or think it’s something you’d like to be a part of, you can give me a call and we can set something up. Auditions are private, by the way. If that makes you feel better?” 

Jeongguk lets out a heavy exhale, and it’s like the space freed up in his lungs makes room for him to smile. “Okay, yeah,” he says, more confidently now. “Yes. This is really cool. Thank you.” 

“Of course, Jeongguk-ssi,” Hoseok replies warmly. 

Jeongguk eye’s flick toward the door, skeptical of the confusing streets and irritated at the oppressive summer heat that makes them feel even more difficult to navigate. “Um… by the way. Could you give me some directions? I’m kind of lost.” 

Hoseok laughs again. It already feels like a familiar sound. “Did you just move here?” 

Jeongguk looks down at himself, wondering if it’s that obvious. Still, he nods. “Like, four days ago,” he mumbles. 

“Oh my god, no wonder you’re so nervous,” Hoseok says. 

Jeongguk laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, ah. I’m still figuring things out, trying to figure out how to… exist here.” 

“Did you come alone?” Hoseok asks, leading them toward the door. He holds it open for Jeongguk. “Do you know people in town?” 

Jeongguk scrapes his toe on the sidewalk once they’re outside, following alongside Hoseok. “Ahh, not really. But my hyung came with me, so at least I’m not completely alone.”

Hoseok raises his eyebrows, impressed. “Man, you’re brave,” he says with a low whistle. He stops in his tracks on the sidewalk, beneath the shade of a tree. “I’ll walk you to the station, but first give me your phone. I’ll put in my personal number. If you ever need anything, just give me a call, okay? You seem like a good kid. Even if you don’t end up going for the audition, everyone deserves a familiar face in a new city.”  

Jeongguk blinks a few times, trying to digest Hoseok’s kindness and warmth as if it’s something ordinary, when he knows it’s not. He stands there, with his hand outstretched, waiting for Jeongguk’s phone. With a sure stance and an easygoing smile, Hoseok idles patiently beside him. Like a true dancer, he looks tall regardless of what his height actually is, and he’s confident in his brightly colored shorts and big t-shirt. 

Jeongguk hands over his phone without question. 

“Ah, wow. Thank you, really. I’m glad I bumped into you,” Jeongguk manages to say.

“Of course,” Hoseok replies, tapping in his phone number. “So am I! And bring your hyung around, too!” 

He gives Jeongguk his phone back before starting to walk toward the station again, and Jeongguk has to blink at him before he can get his feet to follow. In this moment, with the summer sunlight pouring over the two of them on the sidewalk of an unfamiliar city, Jeongguk knows that they were supposed to meet. 

“I will,” Jeongguk says as he jogs to catch up to him. “I will bring him around, I mean. I think he’d like you.” 

All he knows is that Yoongi is supposed to meet this guy, too. 

✧

mood: drunk – keshi

Jeongguk nails the audition. Yoongi grumbled something like, “It’s because I came with you,” after he finished, but Jeongguk has had no chance to refute that, because Yoongi has been swept up in a conversation with Hoseok for the past twenty minutes. 

Jeongguk practiced all week after he spent hours watching videos of HOPE Studio’s performances, in love with their range and feeling a little swell of pride that he’d left such a good impression on Hoseok, who he soon learned was the leader of the dance team and the co-owner of the studio. When Jeongguk wasn’t leaving his resumé at cafés and boutiques trying to find part-time work, he did his best to rehearse in the tiny living room of his and Yoongi’s apartment. By the time the day of audition arrived, Jeongguk was prepared to perform an old song from his high school days that he’d touched up, and with a warm handshake from Hoseok and the other owner of the studio, Jeongguk was welcomed aboard. Hoseok said he would probably need a few pointers here and there, but the new members always do. 

Those were the last words Jeongguk heard from Hoseok, who’s now smiling with bright eyes at Yoongi. Jeongguk watches them carefully from afar, not wanting to intrude too much on what looks to be a pretty intense conversation, but when he catches a rare blush on Yoongi’s cheeks, it feels like a personal victory. He knew they’d get along well. 

Jeongguk goes back to staring down at nothing on his phone as they talk. His towel is still around his neck from when he’d wiped himself down after his performance, but just as his thoughts start to wander, he feels a set of eyes on him. He looks up to Hoseok grinning in his direction, waving him over. 

“Sorry I stole away your hyung,” Hoseok says, eyes shining. 

Jeongguk carefully looks back and forth between the two of them, but he doesn’t comment on the energy he feels. It’s somehow light and airy and extremely heavy all at once. “It’s okay, I’m sick of him anyway. He’s my only friend, remember?” 

Yoongi pinches him, but his scowl is a little less menacing than it normally is. It’s like he can’t help but smile. “Well, how do you feel about being co-workers, too?” 

Jeongguk gawks. “What? No way you’re auditioning.” 

Hoseok eyes them both, amused. “Actually, he’s gonna help us with our music. We’ve been looking to work with original beats, especially because we like to push the boundary on genres, but we haven’t found anyone to make the kind of songs we want. I have the feeling Yoongi-ssi is the person I’ve been looking for.” 

Jeongguk can only blink. He can’t imagine how they had a conversation that led to Yoongi being hired without Hoseok even hearing one of his songs, but Jeongguk supposes Yoongi has those hidden charms of his. Hoseok laughs loudly at the bold look of shock on Jeongguk’s face.

“So you do have money to pay me, right?” Yoongi asks bluntly. His body language reads the exact opposite of his tone. He’s grinning. His whole torso is angled toward Hoseok. His hands are fidgeting a little nervously. 

“Of course,” says Hoseok warmly, laying a hand on Yoongi’s bicep. “We have a partnership with one of the local arts universities, so they help us out sometimes. Plus we’re pretty good, you know. People pay to see us.” He winks. 

Yoongi only seems to grow more flustered, nodding along. “Gguk, uh–” He clears his throat. “We were gonna go grab a drink tonight, you know, to talk this over more, and to celebrate you making it onto the team.” 

Jeongguk frowns, disappointed. “I told you, I have my first shift at the arcade tonight. I can’t.” 

“Oh, shit, I forgot,” Yoongi says. He doesn’t look that disappointed. 

“Looks like it’ll be just us then,” Hoseok murmurs to Yoongi. 

Not all too suddenly, Jeongguk feels like he’s intruding. “So um, I guess I’ll go then? I need to head back and shower and change and stuff, and I need to be at work at four.” 

“Okay, kid,” Yoongi replies warmly, squeezing Jeongguk’s arm. “You did great today. We’ll celebrate another time, okay? I think I’ll stay in the area tonight.” His eyes flash over to Hoseok, who’s looking between the two of them warmly. “If I’m gonna be around here a lot, I should get to know it.” 

Hoseok chimes in with a wry but charming smile. “Hey, I haven’t hired you yet,” he notes playfully. 

Yoongi shrugs. He waves a hand in the air absently, probably appearing a little less conspicuous than he’d like to be with the way he looks Hoseok up and down. “You will,” he says airily. “I’ll come back at 6:30? If it matters, I like whiskey.” 

Hoseok laughs, clearly amused. The crinkles by the corners of his eyes say it all. “Sure,” Hoseok says with a wave. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Yoongi offers him one more smile and Jeongguk offers his thanks, and then the two of them are heading out onto the sidewalk together, a droll energy bouncing between them. Jeongguk knocks their shoulders together hard enough that Yoongi stumbles, and he grins with all his teeth. 

“So what,” Jeongguk murmurs in a low voice, absolutely charmed, “are you in love or something? I’ve never seen you talk to a stranger that easily.” 

Yoongi hangs his head so his hair hides his eyes, and in a deep, grumbling tone he deflects, “Actually, I usually don’t talk to strangers at all.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, shoving Yoongi again. “So you’re just gonna wait around for him?” he goads. 

Yoongi gives him a hard look, but his expressions are really no match for his blush and fidgety hands. 

“No, I’m gonna go check out this part of the city,” he mutters, repeating his words from inside the studio. 

Briefly, Jeongguk wonders what has Yoongi so flustered. Sure, Hoseok is cute and confident, and he’s clearly taken a liking to Yoongi, but that’s hardly enough to get Yoongi so off his game. It’s pretty rare to see Yoongi anything other than calm and collected, so Jeongguk is curious to say the least. He figures that now is probably not the right time to ask about it, so he decides to keep up with the teasing instead. 

“I’m watching you Min Yoongi,” Jeongguk chides, waggling his finger and laughing. “Don’t sleep with my new boss!” 

In a rare moment of immaturity, Yoongi holds up the middle finger and sticks out his tongue before walking away. “He might be my new boss, too, so I’ll do whatever I want!” he calls over his shoulder. 

Jeongguk just doubles over with laughter, watching him walk away, inexplicably happy in this moment. As Yoongi trails off, Jeongguk takes a second to himself, just to feel the contentment of the day’s success before having to worry about another new job and a whole slew of new stresses. He and Yoongi are finally getting settled, and he gets to do what he loves, with his best friend, in the place where Fate has been telling him to come for years. 

And with one last glance at Yoongi before he rounds the corner, Jeongguk can’t help but want to pat himself on the back. He was right about his feeling – he’s almost certain that Yoongi and Hoseok were supposed to meet. 

Finally things feel like they’re moving forward, instead of mindlessly in circles. 

✧

But, for all of Jeongguk’s inertia, he’s quickly pulled to a stop with Fate as the everlasting force always acting against him. Things quickly stagnate again, even if they are better than before. Dance practice is both rigorous and rewarding, but even in his most desperate attempts to avoid the thought, he can’t help but be reminded of Jimin when he’s in the studio. He’s not even sure if Jimin dances in this lifetime, but he was always so good at it. More than once, it’s been a part of their fights, though he can never remember why they started. 

Even though Jeongguk is doing something he loves, with both a new friend and an old one, he still feels like he’s grasping at straws. He thought dance would bring him closer to what he’s looking for, but in so many ways, it’s only made him feel farther away. 

From afar, he watches Yoongi and Hoseok get closer. They’re often off in their own world, but Jeongguk starts to extend his reach too. At the arcade, he stumbles less than he thought he would. The work is easy, but the people are friendly, and a lot of the time they do funny things while they’re drunk that keep him entertained. He finds another friend there, one who waits for Jeongguk even when Jeongguk’s shift ends later than his and who sneaks him jellies when they’re not supposed to be eating on the job. Seokjin is his manager and five years his senior, but he acts far more like a hyung than a boss, and he tells silly jokes that always get Jeongguk to laugh, even when they’re corny. At least one night a week, they find themselves eating chicken and drinking beer together. 

Spending time with Seokjin helps make everything feel a little bit more like real life. He’s happy, but he’s unmoving. He wants to keep heading forward, and he knows he’s still being tugged toward something that he doesn’t know how to find. No matter how close he knows he is to Jimin, he knows that now he just has to wait. It’s in Fate’s hands to finally crash them together again. 

JIMIN 

Taehyung’s body is warm against his, aided by the beer thrumming through their veins and the hot summer air making them sticky in their clothes. They probably stumble a little too much to look sober, but that’s the least of their concerns when all of the people milling about them seem to be in a similar state. Jimin doubles with over with laughter, but Taehyung holds onto him tight, squeezing Jimin’s shoulder with his big hand. Jimin squeezes back, hooking his arm even more securely around Taehyung’s waist. 

It’s a perfect night. 

After he catches his breath a little bit more, he leans his head against Taehyung’s bicep and sighs happily. “Ahh, I missed you, Taehyung-ah,” he murmurs, slurring his words just a little bit. “We haven’t had a night like this in so long.” 

Jimin takes a long look at Taehyung, absolutely radiant with his golden skin and big smile and pretty floral shirt. They’d gotten dressed up tonight just for fun, wanting to celebrate a proper night out together after the both of them were so caught up with school and work. They’ve made a habit out of celebrating their uninterrupted moments of time spent with one another, and this is certainly one of them. Jimin hooks his thumb into the belt loop of Taehyung’s straight-legged, pleated pants and tugs him closer. 

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Taehyung says warmly. “We deserve to have this, like… all the time.” 

He’s a little drunk, but Jimin is so charmed by him that he can’t help but laugh. “Should I start to brace myself now? Will you beat me at every game we play?” 

Taehyung laughs. “Of course I will,” he says confidently, coming to an abrupt halt as they finally finish their trek from the bar to the arcade. “But that’s part of the fun right?” 

Jimin nods along. “There’s no one else I’d rather lose to,” he sings as they pass through the front doors. 

The arcade is too bright, the bad music is playing too loud, and there are far too many people inside. Jimin and Taehyung love it. They swing by the front desk first, where they find Seokjin leaning over the counter as if he was anticipating their arrival. Taehyung plants kisses on both of his cheeks and Jimin offers him a cheeky wink, but they waltz off after very little conversation and a few free gaming tickets tucked into their back pockets. Seokjin is the best like that – he always lets the two of them game first, knowing that they’ll talk later. Still, Jimin doesn’t miss the way Taehyung looks over his shoulder to make eye contact or mouth out words to him from across the room. 

They’ve probably been to this arcade too many times, but they play the games as if it’s their first. They trip over their own feet during DDR when the beer catches up to them. During Mario Kart, Jimin whines the whole time even though he knows Taehyung won’t let him win. When they play the claw game, despite a very long-winded speech about how it’s “rigged,” Taehyung still miraculously wins a Pikachu plushie and gives it to Jimin without question. 

“It’s rigged,” Taehyung says dramatically, “but I am an expert. Please take good care of Pika.” 

Jimin hugs his Pikachu with wide eyes. “I will keep him forever.” 

They burst into laughter soon after, because something along these lines happens every time they come here. Giggling into one another’s shoulders between the rows of machines, Jimin gets ready to tug Taehyung by the wrist to head to the next game. He spins on his heel, but just as he pulls Taehyung along, he stops into tracks. Taehyung slams into his back, but before Jimin falls forward, Taehyung catches him by the waist. He stumbles backward a few steps, clutching desperately onto Taehyung’s arm with one hand and holding his Pikachu close to his chest with the other. 

“What?” Taehyung murmurs, rubbing Jimin’s waist. “Jimin-ah, what’s wrong?” 

Jimin knows he should answer, but he feels paralyzed, as if the roots of the trees that run beneath the foundation of this building are having a revolution and have come up from beneath the concrete to secure around his ankles. Frozen in place, he blinks, pinches himself, even rubs his eyes to make sure that what he sees before him is not an apparition induced by the neon lights of the arcade. 

There are no ghosts here, no waking dreams. Only loud, rowdy people and the boy frozen in place a few feet in front of him. Underneath purple and blue lights, his bright eyes are unwavering on Jimin’s own. He’s in tight black jeans and the uniform shirt of the arcade staff, with the top buttons undone and his messy hair tousled and falling into his eyes. Tucked under his arm is a box full of plushies, just waiting to be dumped into one of the emptying claw machines. His right hand, frozen, is reaching for the key meant to unlock the glass door. 

Jimin feels like he’s falling from the Earth. For a second he wishes that were true, as if he could somehow skip this life and move into the next one, free from these few seconds that have stretched out like a nightmare, so quick but feeling so terrifyingly slow. 

mood: past lives – local natives 

He clutches Taehyung’s arm even tighter, and the loud music of the arcade becomes drowned out by the sound of his heart in his ears. Taehyung’s genuinely worried now, looking at Jimin with wide eyes and asking again, “What’s wrong?” 

“Tae, that’s him,” Jimin whispers. His eyes are not on Taehyung but on the big, bright eyes blinking at him. “That’s– it’s Jeongguk. My–” 

Taehyung’s head snaps up from where he was anxiously gazing at Jimin and over to Jeongguk, tall and broad with his cardboard box of plushies under his arm. “Oh, fuck,” Taehyung blurts. “He’s beautiful.” 

“ Tae, ” Jimin whimpers, pulling on Taehyung’s sleeve. 

Taehyung seems to snap out of it, murmuring, “Sorry, sorry. Do you want to go?” 

Jimin hangs his head, finally breaking eye contact with Jeongguk to stare down at his Converse. “No, ah–” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck. There’s no point in leaving. Once we run into each other, it’ll just keep happening. Fuck!” 

“Well, should you talk to him?” Taehyung suggests lightly, angling his body to look at Jimin more directly. “You should probably let him know what you’re thinking. I mean, you kind of knew this day was coming, right? You’ve thought about it so much.” 

Jimin sighs heavily, and he squeezes Taehyung’s arm again. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “You’re right.” 

He doesn’t pick up his gaze. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Taehyung asks in a quiet voice, “Have you ever thought about trying? With him?” 

Jimin drops Taehyung’s arm like it’s burning him. He looks up at his friend with dark, shining eyes. “Why would I try to love someone who hates me?” 

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung tries, keeping his voice soft but insistent, “this is a new life–” 

Jimin narrows his eyes and straightens up. He crosses his arms across his chest. “Taehyung, please. Not now.” 

Taehyung looks a little wounded, but he doesn’t try again. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

Jimin lets out a heavy sigh, already regretting how easily he snapped. That’s what he hates about Jeongguk. He makes Jimin so quick to anger. “No, no,” Jimin murmurs. He grasps at Taehyung’s hand briefly to squeeze his palm. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back. Um, he’s working anyway, so I doubt it’ll be… an immediate conversation, so to speak.” 

“Okay,” Taehyung replies gently. 

Jimin takes a deep breath and pushes his blonde hair back from his eyes. When he finally looks Jeongguk’s way again, he feels his chest tighten, but he forces himself to push past it. As he walks those short few steps, he reminds himself to hold his ground. Jeongguk has a way of making Jimin weak even though Jimin knows he’s strong. Jeongguk baits and distracts and chides, and Jimin always falls for it. 

Not this time. 

When he enters Jeongguk’s space, Jeongguk hardly reacts. He’s still just standing there, blinking just as he was before, frozen in place beneath the harsh lights of the arcade. 

With his arms still folded across his chest, Jimin mutters sharply, “Do you get a break?” 

Jeongguk’s big eyes get even wider, glistening prettily even from behind his messy bangs. “What?” he asks. 

His voice is the same as ever – smooth and expressive, both comforting and triggering. Against all of Jimin’s desires, his body still tells him that this is the voice he’s supposed to be hearing. 

“A break,” Jimin repeats dully. “From your shift.” 

“Oh,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Yeah.” He shifts the box on his hip. Jimin watches as he swallows, and he thinks that Jeongguk almost looks nervous. He doesn’t let himself get fooled by it though. Jeongguk is always like this at first. He loves to act meek and shy, but when it comes down to it, he can be ruthless. Jimin knows a little better now, after all this. 

Jimin tries his best to have a bit of restraint, and he avoids rolling his eyes no matter how tempted he is. “Did you take it already?” Jimin asks. He wonders how much more obvious he has to make it, or if he’s going to have to spell everything out here. 

“No,” Jeongguk mutters. His face is already starting to close off. 

“When can you take it?” asks Jimin, though he hardly says it like a question. “We’re talking.” 

Finally, Jeongguk’s face shifts, and he leans down into Jimin’s space. That smirk of his finally appears, and he lets out the quietest tsk. “Park Jimin-ssi,” Jeongguk drawls slowly, condescending already. “The least you could do is be a little nicer to the employees of the place you’re patronizing. I can kick you out, you know.”

This time, Jimin lets himself roll his eyes. He huffs, too. “Don’t start with me, Jeon,” he mutters, unimpressed. 

Jeongguk clicks his tongue. Jimin hates him a little bit extra at this moment. He’s probably the only person who can look so intimidating while in an arcade uniform holding a box of plushies under his arm. “You started with me as soon as you walked up to me,” Jeongguk sneers. 

Jimin laughs in his face. “Oh, like you didn’t follow me all the way to Seoul,” he spits. Jeongguk is silent after that, and Jimin lets him bask in a quick moment of victory, even though he knows it’s hardly a win at all. Of course Jeongguk followed him here. They were always going to be together. “So can you take a break or not? I’m not waiting around for you.” 

Jeongguk bares his teeth, and the petty part of Jimin likes to know that he’s getting to him. “I’ll go talk to my manager.” He plasters on a fake smile, stretching it so wide that he looks a little pained. “Mind if I put the plushies in the claw machine, or will that take too long?” 

Jimin clutches his Pikachu in disgust and pulls it closer to his chest, eyeing the LINE friends in Jeongguk’s box. “Ugh,” he mutters with a scowl. “Just come find me when you can talk.”

“Where will you be?” 

Jimin rolls his eyes again. “You tracked me and found me in a whole different city. I’m sure you’ll be fine if you have to take a few laps around the arcade, sweetheart.” 

Jeongguk sends him a nasty smile and then turns his back in Jimin’s direction, grabbing the key from the carabiner on his waist to unlock the machine. Jimin watches for a second as he starts to throw plushies in, noting how hard he squeezes before he tosses them. Jimin stalks off before he notices anything else. 

He finds Taehyung pressed up against one of the walls where it’s a little less busy, playing on his phone and shaking his leg as he awaits Jimin’s reappearance. 

Taehyung offers an awkward smile. “That looked… heated,” he says. 

Jimin sighs heavily. His voice is still tight. The anger is still fresh in his system, making him snappy and quick-tongued. “It was heated,” he bites. “It’s always heated.” 

Taehyung gives him a disappointed look. It’s not often that he so openly appears to be judgemental like this. “I thought you didn’t want to hate him, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin sighs heavily. Taehyung, of course, is right. In every situation, Taehyung is always there to ground him. “I don’t,” he whispers. 

He thinks of how even the sight of Jeongguk was enough to get him infuriated. When they’re together, Jimin finds himself consumed with worry about losing to Jeongguk, about being weaker or lesser than him, about being crushed by him. His temper gets away from him, and it always flares up like a fire in the breeze. 

“I don’t, you’re right.” He bites his lip. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that. I was mean, but I just… I have no control around him at all.” 

Taehyung mulls it over, but with a shrug and a hushed voice, he says, “I think that’s normal for soulmates.” He almost says it as a matter of fact, like it’s common knowledge. “Isn’t it normal for your emotions to be heightened with your Fated other?”

A bitter taste fills Jimin’s mouth. “Yeah, well. Not like this, right? We’re hardly normal.” 

Carefully, Taehyung takes Jimin’s hand. He massages Jimin’s palm and rubs between his knuckles to relieve some of the tension built up there. “Maybe not,” Taehyung starts softly, “but how much do you have to work with here, baby? Do you know any other soulmates? All we have are wives’ tales and folklore. It’s kind of hard to say what the experience is supposed to be like if you don’t have any expectations or points of reference.” 

Jimin squeezes his plushie. “I guess,” he sighs. “It’s just so messed up. It’s like, the truth is that I already feel better now that he’s around, but I’m just so mad. It hardly makes sense. How are we supposed to be together when we can’t even– ugh!” His voice rises and drops off suddenly, and when he finishes speaking, he pulls his hand from Taehyung’s grasp to rake it angrily through his hair. 

Taehyung looks just as lost as him, but he keeps his composure well, and his presence is still comforting to Jimin no matter how distressed he feels in the present moment. “I don’t know, babe,” he says in a soothing voice. He places a hand on the small of Jimin’s back and starts to walk them over to an area by the entrance where there are high top tables and chairs. “Just try to relax. You’re so patient with everyone, so maybe you can just try to be that way with him. And if it bothers you to think that you’re expending energy on Jeongguk, just tell yourself it’s for your sake, not his. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, and you owe it to yourself to maintain the peace you’ve found.” 

“‘Peace’ is a little generous,” Jimin grumbles, setting his Pikachu down as he and Taehyung slump at one of the tables. His tone is just on the verge of a joke, and it makes just the air of a smile appear on Taehyung’s face. 

He grins and huffs a laugh through his nose when Jimin whines at his expression. “Well, the path to it, then,” Taehyung amends, trying not to giggle. It’s not really that funny, but they’re both so worked up that it almost feels right to be laughing “Are you going to be able to talk to him?” 

Jimin sighs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Yeah. He’s gonna take his break and then… I don’t know. We’ll go talk.” 

Taehyung cocks his head. “What will you say?” 

This time, Jimin is the one laughing. 

“I don’t know yet.” 

In all truth, the wait isn’t too long, but time seems to pass slower in a place like an arcade, where time always seems to go too quickly, marked by wins and losses of games that always end in what feels like an instant. Their conversation cuts off, and their buzz from the bar is long gone. The feeling is replaced with the anxiety thrumming through Jimin’s entire body. They see Jeongguk do a few more tasks here and there, and then Jimin is tracking him with his eyes to the front desk. 

He’s not sure why he didn’t piece it together before that they must know each other, but when he finally sees Jeongguk talking to Seokjin, Jimin feels a heavy, ugly bitterness fill him. One more way that they’re connected. Sure, Seokjin and Jeongguk could just be coworkers, but the odds of that alone are already slim enough to bother Jimin, and when he sees Seokjin clap Jeongguk on the back, and when he hears hears Seokjin’s high, warm laugh, he knows they must be friends. 

He takes a shuddering breath when Jeongguk finally walks over to him, and he closes his eyes for the time being, telling himself that it’s the bright lights of the games that are bothering him, and not the sight of Jeongguk closing in on him. 

Jimin senses him get close, and when Jeongguk approaches their table, his eyes immediately shift from Jimin and fixate on Taehyung. His gaze is harsh and those strong eyebrows of his are knit together. Jimin knows him well enough by now to assume he’s probably jealous, though Jimin doesn’t have a clue why. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jeongguk gives Taehyung one more judgmental once over before jerking his head in the direction of the back of the arcade. Jimin scowls immediately. He hates how gruff he is. Being taciturn doesn’t suit him. 

Still, Jimin gets up to follow him. Taehyung gives him half a smile, and then, begrudgingly, Jimin walks away. 

“That your boyfriend?” Jeongguk mutters in a low voice. Jimin could almost laugh. Jeongguk probably thinks he’s being slick. 

“So what if he is?” Jimin asks in a high, flippant voice. “Does that suddenly concern you too? Just like the rest of my business?” 

Jimin supposes, in this case, it actually does concern Jeongguk. If they were any other couple in the world, it would probably be strange for a person with a soulmate to be dating someone else. But of course, they’re Jimin and Jeongguk.

“Actually,” Jeongguk says in an arrogant voice, “it does.” 

Jimin rolls his eyes even though Jeongguk isn’t looking back at him. “Oh, this’ll be rich,” he drones. 

He follows Jeongguk through the employees only room in the back of the arcade and out a door that leads to a parking lot behind the building. There are dim street lights, a few cars, and a dumpster. Again, Jimin almost finds it funny. There’s never been anything romantic about them. Of course, the first time they talk in this life is at a place like this. 

When they turn to face each other, Jeongguk’s face is different. It’s no longer pinched together with jealousy and rage like it was inside, but rather, he looks nervous. He takes a breath, and then says, “Listen. I don’t know what way you want me to put this, and I know you’re not gonna like to hear it but, but I think I know how to break this curse we’re under.” 

Jeongguk looks like he intended to continue, but when he sees Jimin’s face, he stops, jaw snapping shut. Jimin is pulling a face, eyebrows high on his forehead, eyes unimpressed, mouth curled. It’s close to comical. Jimin really wants to laugh. 

“Curse?” he repeats. “What curse?” 

Jeongguk looks like he wants to get angry, but he wavers when he speaks, nerves catching up to him. He stutters a little bit. “Y’know, how we’re forced to hate each other in every life? How we don’t get to keep meeting people from our past lives – that… that happens to you, too, right? How we’re always fighting? All of that?” 

Jimin presses his lips together. “Yeah, I’m familiar. You think that’s a curse ?” 

Jeongguk grows shy and sheepish in an instant. He puts on that act that Jimin hates, when he pretends to be so innocent and gentle even though Jimin knows very well that he isn’t. Jeongguk drags the toe of his big sneaker on the asphalt and looks down, and his long hair falls around his face. When he explains, he explains softly. He doesn’t meet Jimin’s eyes again. “I read… in a book… It said that when that happens, to break it, we have to. Um. If we fall in love, the curse will break, and we won’t meet again in the next life. So I thought… I don’t know…” 

Jimin sighs, exasperated. After all this time, he can’t believe Jeongguk hasn’t pieced it together. He forces his hands by his side, knowing that if he ran them through his hair, he’d probably pull a little too hard. His anger gets away from him so easily with Jeongguk. 

“You really believe everything you read?” Jimin snaps. “God, Jeongguk, I know you went to school. You’ve gotta learn what a reputable source is. Whatever you read was clearly some wishful thinking for some people who had a bad experience. I know we live in a world that feels like fantasy sometimes, but come on, draw the line somewhere. There’s no witchcraft. ” 

Jeongguk winces hard, and when he looks up, his eyes are shining with a pained anger. “Can you stop being an asshole for a second and listen to me?” he exclaims. 

“I am listening to you!” growls Jimin. “And I’m telling you to take a second and reflect on the bullshit you just told me! We’re not cursed. Seriously, after everything we’ve been through, how could you possibly think that? We’re tied together. In every single life we’ve shared, we’ve been tied together, and that’s never going to change. Haven’t you stopped to think about why?” 

“What do you mean, why?” Jeongguk mumbles, more hushed now.

Jimin stops to look at him. Even in the horrible, disgusting lighting of the dingy parking lot, when Jimin truly looks at him, he feels like he can see every single thread of Fate tying them together. If there were one for every lifetime, they’d have an embroidery of their souls, red, and overlapping, two ugly hearts always misaligned. He’s sure Jeongguk is seeing the same view – this mismatched picture, their missing pieces, the things they see in one another but wish they didn’t have to.

Jimin doesn’t have the energy to yell these words. Instead, he just feels tired. “We’re soulmates, Jeongguk-ah.” 

Jeongguk seems to flounder. His eyes widen, and his face can’t decide on an expression. “...But we hate each other,” he tries to argue. 

“I know that, trust me.” 

“So how can that be?” Jeongguk cries. “Soulmates don’t hate each other. They– they love each other, they’re meant to be together. I’m not– with you– I hate you.” 

Jimin could have never imagined that Jeongguk hadn’t pieced this together before, and part of him almost feels bad for Jeongguk to have to go through the realization in front of him. He remembers when he figured it out, and he was miserable for days after, feeling like there would never be anything they could do about it. He tries to soften his tone, just a little bit. 

“But have you ever stopped to think about why? Why do you hate me, Jeongguk? It’s kind of baseless, right? Trust me, I hate you, too. But at least for me, I know I don’t have a good reason for it. I don’t– I don’t know you. All I think when I see you is that I hated you in the life before this one, so I’ll hate you again now. It’s always been this way, for hundreds of years. It’s just the way things are.” 

Jeongguk clenches his jaw. “Well, of course it’s that way,” he mutters, looking away. “Sometimes I can’t stand to look at you.” 

Jimin winces, but even as Jeongguk turns away, Jimin knows it’d be hypocritical of him to ask for any sort of restraint. Neither of them know how to hold back around each other. 

“You don’t have to,” he grits out. “All I’m trying to say is that I can’t see far back enough to understand the reason why I started hating you in the first place. I’m not asking for that to change.” 

“So– but–” Jeongguk stammers, looking a little helpless, “even if we love each other now, I’ll still be with you in the next life?”
Jimin stares blankly. “I thought you believed in soulmates, Jeongguk-ah. Shouldn’t you know how they work? We’ll be together in every life.” 

Jeongguk narrows his eyes sharply. “How do you know that?” he asks. “That I believe in them?” 

Jimin shrugs, a cynical half-smile appearing on his face. “Who knows. You must have told me before, in some other life.” He laughs dryly. “Maybe I just know because it’s you. Anyway, I don’t have anything else to say to you, so I’m gonna go now. I have things to do. My friend is waiting for me.” 

“He’s not your boyfriend?” Jeongguk asks softly, big eyes wavering. 

Jimin sighs. “God, Jeongguk, no. Maybe some part of me wishes he was, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t get to have that. I just get you.” 

Jeongguk’s face falls a little bit, but Jimin doesn’t want to see what happens next. His entire body screams at him as he walks away, but being close to Jeongguk is just as much relief as it is unbearable pain. 

“Wait!” Jeongguk says, catching Jimin by the wrist. It’s not very often that they’ve touched, and when their skin meets, Jimin feels like he’s on fire. He wrenches his arm away and waits to hear what Jeongguk has to say. With his toes pointed in together and his head bowed, Jeongguk mumbles in a soft voice, “Shouldn’t we… spend time together?” 

At first Jimin just wants to ask why, but it clicks for him after a moment. He gives him a disparaging smile. “Oh,” he drawls sarcastically. “Because you figured out I’m your soulmate, I’m suddenly worth your time? Fuck off, Jeon Jeongguk. Maybe in the next life.” 

“Wait, Jimin–” Jeongguk calls as Jimin starts to walk away. 

Jimin stops in his tracks again, and his anger feels vicious. He nearly growls. He feels his veins pulse in his neck. “I’ve been your hyung in every life. Surely you’d remember by now.” 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk breathes. His face is suddenly soft and open, but Jimin doesn’t fall for it. It’d be too easy. “I didn’t just come here to chase you and then leave after. I’m here to stay.” 

Jimin casts his eyes aside. “So?” he mutters. 

“So, I’m gonna be around,” Jeongguk murmurs. “I just thought I should let you know.”

Jimin could walk away without saying anything else, but he’s too caught up now. To watch Jeongguk try to get him to flip on a dime so easily is truly laughable. How dare he think Jimin is so easy? It’s not often that Jimin gets the last word, and after everything he’s been through tonight, watching the life he’s built for himself crumble just with Jeongguk’s presence, he thinks this time he deserves it. 

“Listen to me, Jeongguk-ah,” he starts slowly, trying to keep his voice level. “Let’s set a few things straight. Anything you think you know about me is just an impression. Not once, in any of our lives, have you ever even tried to know me, so get rid of that horseshit you have in your head that’s telling you whatever it is you think you know about me. You do not know me. And I know you think I might be a fun little conquest now that your romantic side is all happy that you have a soulmate, but just because you’re used to getting whatever you want doesn’t mean that you can win me over and make me yours.” 

“Jimin–” Jeongguk tries again. 

Jimin just sneers. “It’s hyung, ” he spits. “Just– don’t get any of this twisted. If I see you around, that’s fine. Just don’t think I won’t run from you again, because I will. I don’t want to love someone who only wants me because they think they’re supposed to have me. I can do much better on my own.” 

Jimin stalks off without looking over his shoulder again. He doesn’t cry until he and Taehyung are home, and he has someone who can hold him, who can protect him from the walls that have finally caved in over his head. 

JEONGGUK

mood: loving someone – the 1975 

Jeongguk goes through the motions. Jimin is, of course, always on his mind, but after seeing him in person, thoughts of him feel much more vivid. His days pass easily between the arcade and the dance company, but more distinctly than ever before, he feels like something is missing. There’s a constant weight on his shoulders, and now he knows why. It takes him a long time to reconcile with the fact that Jimin is his soulmate, but knowing that fact provides a real sense of clarity. So many things that used to confuse him start to make sense. Jimin visits his dreams often, and he’s usually accompanied by a storm. Outside, it seems to rain a lot more than usual, even though it’s summer. Maybe he just notices the thunder more often now that he has something to associate with it. 

He spends hours trying to look back on his own lives. Everything in his body tells him to go find Jimin again, to be with him, to seek him out, and he beats himself up wondering how he never noticed what the feeling was before Jimin told him. Their bodies are magnetized – they’re supposed to be together. He wonders if he failed to notice because in every other lifetime, he was always focused on the hatred between them. They’ve always had a conflict from the start in their other lives. Now… there’s nothing. There’s empty middle ground between love and hate, and Jeongguk doesn’t know how to walk the road that will get him back to either end. It hurts even more to know that Jimin would push him away if he were to go in the direction he wants to go. 

When he thinks about Jimin, he finds that he can get a read on his emotions if he focuses hard enough. Everything Jeongguk feels from him is anger still, and Jeongguk wonders why, especially when Jimin seemed so keen on feeling nothing toward him. Maybe it’s because of the way Jeongguk approached him. The question of how to get close to him eats away at Jeongguk. It almost feels like Fate is laughing in his face. He’s always wanted to be happy with his soulmate. In every life, he’s craved a love like that, no matter how rare he knew soulmates were. Now, his soulmate is just around the corner, and he wants nothing to do with Jeongguk. 

He’s sitting on his couch after a long shift at the arcade, putting off a shower in order to wallow in his thoughts, when Yoongi bursts through the door. He has a backpack thrown over his shoulder freshly adorned with one of those flower charms that Hoseok likes, and there’s a grin plastered across his face. He gets his smile under control as soon as he sees Jeongguk moping on the couch, and he comes to sit next to him. 

Yoongi clears his throat. “Jeongguk-ah,” he mutters, “I thought you’d be in your room.” 

Jeongguk picks at a thread on one of their pillows. “Sat down,” he mumbles. “Didn’t feel like getting up.” 

“How are you holding up, kid?” Yoongi asks softly. His elated mood from when he walked in the door is long gone now. Jeongguk knows him well enough to think he might look a little nervous, too. 

Jeongguk shrugs. Yoongi has been approaching him every day like this for the past three weeks. Since Jeongguk came home from work and broke the news to him that the reason they came to Seoul in the first place doesn’t even matter anymore, Yoongi has expressed constant concern. Jeongguk tries to tell him that he has no reason to be worrying, but Yoongi knows better than that. He worries anyway. Of course Jeongguk is devastated that he has a soulmate who doesn’t want to be in his life. What confuses Jeongguk more is that Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind that they moved for nothing; if anything, he seems happier than ever. 

“M’fine,” Jeongguk replies. “Long day.” 

“Did you do any of that research you were talking about?” Yoongi asks. 

Jeongguk shrugs again, shifting on the couch. He’s been reading here and there, trying to find ways to communicate with Jimin without really seeing him. There have been a lot of dead ends so far. Deep down, he knows this is something he could try to talk to his parents about, but he’s hesitant for a lot of reasons. For one, they’ve been together in so many lives now that their connection as soulmates comes unthinkingly every time they meet in a new one. They’re used to each other. Plus, he hasn’t told them about Jimin yet – not to mention that it’ll be embarrassing when he does. When he thinks hard about it, he also feels like this is something he has to figure out on his own, without their help.

“Some,” he says slowly. “A lot of it seems like bullshit.” He snorts dryly. “And after Jimin laughed in my face about the curse theory I had, I’m trying to be a little more careful with what I believe. To be honest, I might try anything I can think of. Y’know, whatever feels natural? Most of the stuff I read seems like it was written for people who want to find their soulmate, not for people who actually have one. But at this point, anything seems worth a shot.” 

Yoongi looks at him carefully. “You’re really serious about this, huh?” he asks. 

Jeongguk picks at his fingernails. Something like embarrassment comes over him, like being turned down the way he was should be enough to make him feel bad for even trying. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I mean, Fate wants us to be together, and I… I want to love my soulmate. I know we’re supposed to love each other. I just don’t know where to start, especially when he seems so disinterested. I know it’s not that easy and that Fate doesn’t do all the work, but we have to have some chemistry, right? There’s got to be something here.” 

Yoongi offers a sympathetic look. “I think I might be able to help you.” 

Jeongguk cocks an eyebrow as he looks up. “What? How? Do you know someone with a soulmate?” 

Jeongguk watches the muscle in Yoongi’s jaw tighten. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Me.” 

“Oh,” says Jeongguk, understanding at once. “Hoseok-hyung.” 

Yoongi scratches the back of his head. There’s a slight blush tinging his cheeks, but his voice stays as low and nondescript as always. “That obvious, huh?” 

“Hyung, I’ve been watching you guys fall in love since the moment you met. You’re not very slick.” 

“He’s the one who’s not slick!” Yoongi cries. 

Jeongguk laughs. No matter how frustrated he is with his own situation, talking about love always makes him happy. He’s utterly weak for it, especially when the people falling are people he cares about. “You walked in the door ten minutes ago with the biggest smile on your face. I might not have experienced love like that myself, but know what it looks like.” He places his hand on Yoongi’s thigh and squeezes. “So… soulmates?” 

Yoongi licks his lips. “I wasn’t keeping it from you on purpose. I wanted to be completely sure before I said anything.” He laughs brightly. “It’s not the way everyone thinks it’s going to be. I was nervous to even bring it up with him. It’s not like they tell it on TV or in the books. We still had to figure each other out.” 

“Are you sure you weren’t just hiding it from me because I told you you were gonna meet your soulmate in Seoul?” Jeongguk teases. 

“I swear, kid. Knowing your situation, I wanted to tell you as soon as I figured it out,” Yoongi murmurs. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles toward his lap. 

Yoongi lets a long pause draw out before he speaks up again. “Listen, Jeongguk-ah. I’m no expert or anything, and me and Hoseokie are still sorting things out. But your connection with Jimin is there. You just have to tap into it. It might be a little harder for you since at the moment Fate is the only thing connecting you guys, but the more you reach for him, the easier it will be.” 

“How do I reach for him, if I can’t see him? He doesn’t want to be around me.” 

Yoongi sighs and scratches his arm absently. His face tells Jeongguk that he’s bracing himself. “It might sound crazy, but… talk to him,” Yoongi says. 

Jeongguk looks up to give Yoongi an incredulous glance. “Talk to him? Like… out loud?” 

Yoongi shrugs. “If that’s easier for you, then sure. I’m sure it’d be fine if you did it in your head, too. But if you put your thoughts out there and direct them to him, I’m pretty sure they’ll find their way to him. It happens to me and Hoseok all the time. I’ll be thinking of him, whether I mean to or not, and later he’ll tease me and tell me that he heard whatever I was thinking. If there are things I’m too afraid to say aloud, sometimes I can just think them and he hears it.”

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. “Soulmates are weird.” 

Then he laughs, and Yoongi laughs with him. 

“Really fucking weird,” Yoongi agrees. “But I also can’t speak for everyone. I really think that everyone’s connection is different, and I’d imagine that they show up in different ways. Like, God– this is even weirder, but, with me and Seok, there have been these moments where we’re working on choreo and music separately, and when we show them to each other, they fit perfectly. The bpm and everything. It’s weird.” 

Jeongguk’s incredulous look only intensifies. “He’s been choreographing without music? And then when you give him music, the choreography just… works?” 

“Listen, Jeongguk-ah, I don’t understand it either.” 

They laugh again. 

“Just try, okay? Try reaching out for him,” Yoongi says. “If things are working out for me, they’ve got to work out for you, kid. Your heart is good. Trust it. Let go of all that anger and turmoil and teen angst you’ve got building up in you.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore!” Jeongguk cries. “It’s been years!”

Yoongi just shrugs and smirks as he stands up. He pats Jeongguk’s head. “Goodnight, Jeongguk-ah.” 

Jeongguk scowls. “Goodnight, asshole.” 

✧

It takes Jeongguk a few days to scrounge up the courage, but eventually, he starts to talk. He knows his own habits, and he’s painfully aware that if he attempts to talk to Jimin inside his head instead of out loud, everything he wants to say would become a jumbled mess. He relies on the feelings of words in his mouth. He knows he needs breath, and pauses, and the soft filler sounds that appear when thinking aloud, but embarrassment prevents him from saying anything for the first few nights. The walls in their apartment are thin, and he cringes at the idea of Yoongi hearing him talk to himself. 

When he discovers the dingy – perhaps mildly unsafe – rooftop of their building, Jeongguk thanks Fate once again for having them choose this apartment. The space up there becomes his saving grace. He starts to talk at night, protected by the sounds of the cicadas roaring in summertime and the shroud of darkness that makes it so he doesn’t have to face himself quite as abruptly. 

It takes him a long time to figure out what he wants to say, but he decides that starting with himself is probably the safest bet. He and Jimin have always dwelled on the conflicts between them, and it’s just as Jimin said at the arcade. Jeongguk doesn’t know Jimin, and Jimin doesn’t know Jeongguk. As of right now, they’re effective strangers. The only thing they have in common is their connection to each other. Jeongguk wants to change that. 

He discovers immediately that it’s extremely weird to talk about himself out loud. It’s every ounce as awkward as he expected. But he pushes through his own self-doubt and forces himself to do it. 

The first night, he leans over the railing surrounding the rooftop and looks at the people milling about in his neighborhood. He commences with an unsteady breath, and he does everything he can to keep Jimin in mind when he talks. There’s a sense of uncertainty accompanying his words, and he wonders if that will stop them from reaching Jimin. To himself, he wants to laugh, thinking about all of this as if it’s choppy radio signal or bad Wi-Fi when in reality it’s something else entirely, with a set of rules that no one on this Earth has probably ever understood. 

mood: ceilings – local natives 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles. He drags a hand over his face at the first word. “Aish, this is weird already. Um, how was your day? Wait, well, you probably won’t answer. I don’t even know if this’ll work, but– it’s worth a shot, right?” 

He laughs awkwardly, kicking himself internally. He’s not exactly doing great at getting Jimin to fall for him. Hell, he’s probably even failing at getting Jimin to want to talk to him at all. 

“Anyway,” he continues, “mine was okay. Things have been weird since I came here. Better than they were before, but still weird. I wonder if you feel it, too. Did things change for you when you figured out we were in the same place? Um, sorry, that’s probably too much.” He laughs again. “I think I’ll try again another night, when I can think of more to say. Um, goodnight, hyung. Sorry if I bothered you, you probably think that’s a bad habit of mine by now.” 

That first night, he goes to bed groaning into his pillow, with Yoongi on the other side of the wall asking why he won’t stop making so much noise. 

So Jeongguk ends up starting slow. He finds that it’s hard to think of things to say about himself when there’s absolutely no starting point. Normally, when talking to someone, he’d think of what they’d care to know, but it’s clear that Jimin doesn’t care to know anything at all. Jeongguk starts with the things that he thinks are most important. He tells Jimin about his parents, and how they’re soulmates. He talks about Yoongi, and he laughs while telling the story of how he got Yoongi to move to Seoul with him. He wonders if Jimin is laughing with him. He talks about Seokjin and the arcade, too. He feels a little stupid when he talks about his love for games, thinking to himself that Jimin ought to learn more important things about him, but he decides he has nothing to lose, when it comes to this. 

One night, some guy who lives in his building comes up to smoke a cigarette, and Jeongguk gets so embarrassed he swears he might die. He’s never clapped a hand over his mouth faster. Most of the time, however, he’s alone, and he starts to get adjusted to talking to Jimin. Jimin is vivid in his imagination, as beautiful as ever, and Jeongguk, no matter how much he reminds himself that this conversation is so very one-sided, finds him easy to talk to. Sometimes he swears he can feel Jimin’s smile, the nod of his head, the quirk of his lips. He decides not to read into it. He’s still not sure if he’s reaching Jimin at all, but at the very least, it feels nice to talk about his day and his emotions, especially when Yoongi is a little harder to come by as of late. 

Once he’s more comfortable, it’s far easier to talk. On a particularly clear and warm night, he finds himself tracing patterns into the fabric of his jeans as he sits with his back against the wall. 

“Did I tell you, hyung?” Jeongguk starts. “I’ve been dancing. It’s really fun. Actually, I don’t think I’ve told you this either, but I’m here with my hyung, Yoongi, I’ve talked about him I think. You know he met his soulmate, too? He met him at the place where I dance, it’s kind of funny. It’s Hoseok-hyung, my boss and the leader of the dance team. They’re together now. It’s so cool to see people fall in love.”

Jeongguk blushes to himself, and he scrubs his cheeks, thinking of the way he’s telling all this to his soulmate – the person he’s supposed to love.”That’s a little sappy, probably, but I really like it. Do you like those kinds of things? Do you even believe in love? Maybe that’s part of the reason you don’t wanna be with me,” he mutters. He snaps his mouth shut in an instant. His thoughts get away from him so quickly when he talks like this. “Ah, sorry for presuming. That’s probably a little mean. I’m sure you have other reasons. Although, you presume things about me, too, so…” 

He trails off, and he regrets the place he lets his thoughts go. It’s a reminder that there’s so much for them to resolve, and no matter how nice it is to talk to Jimin like this, Jeongguk still has no clue if Jimin is even listening. Even if he is, a tall wall looms between them anyway, and it’s going to take a bit more than just a friendly conversation to get over it. 

He toys with one of the holes in his jeans, tearing it bigger in the process. “Well– I realize I’m not making the best impression on you right now. Maybe I should start over for tonight. So, back to dancing. Do you dance in this life, Jimin-hyung?” he mumbles. He closes his eyes, and it’s easy for him to see Jimin like that, so stark in his mind, contrasting the sundry colors that splash behind his eyelids. It’s almost without question that Jimin dances, but at this moment, all Jeongguk wants is for Jimin to tell him himself. “You were always so good, I remember it. It’s almost like that’s your soul’s hobby, huh? I can’t remember you not dancing. I think it would be fun to dance together, if we ever reach that point.” 

He talks for far too long, and it makes him wonder if he disturbs Jimin when he does this. Of course, Jimin never answers, so Jeongguk realizes that there’s a chance that Jimin doesn’t hear him at all. On the chance that he does, Jeongguk muses about the ways he might be interrupting. Dinner, sleep, time with friends? Can Jimin tune it out? Does he want to? He must, if he never replies. Or maybe he just has nothing to say. 

A few nights later, thoughts like those get to him. 

Into the night air he murmurs, “Is it weird to say I miss you even though you hate me?” 

The silence says it all. 

✧

Jeongguk’s sneakers raise a cloud of dust around him, but he presses forward. He never used to like running outside, but something about Seoul has drawn him out of the city, toward the mountains and trails on its outskirts. He continues uphill, breath still steady as he comes around a turn. Just as he’s about to slow to a stop to walk carefully up the stairs that he will have to share with others, Jeongguk comes to understand why he’s been feeling the urge to come here. 

At the base of the steps is a bench, and on it is Jimin, alone in his hiking clothes, leaning back to look at the rustling leaves in the tree above him. 

Without thinking about it too hard, Jeongguk plops next to him, sweating and exhilarated from his run. He knows his eyes are wild, but sometimes he can’t believe his luck. Or rather, his Fate. 

Jimin’s gaze snaps over to Jeongguk as soon as he registers someone is next to him, and the first words he mutters are, “Stop talking to me.” 

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open, shocked at how quick Jimin is to snap at him. “I haven’t said anything!” Jeongguk replies indignantly. 

Jimin, for a moment, looks a little endeared, but he snaps out of it quickly, rolling his eyes. “I mean at night. When I’m trying to sleep.” 

“Oh,” Jeongguk blurts, blushing intensely. “You can hear me?” 

Jimin grinds his teeth and locks his jaw, but he tears his eyes away from Jeongguk to look at the dirt. Jeongguk wonders if this is one of those moments for him, when he can still see Jeongguk without even having to look at him. 

“Obviously I can hear you!” Jimin snaps. “Half of the time I can hear you even when you’re not trying to talk to me.” 

Jeongguk swallows heavily, the discomforting heat of embarrassment filling his cheeks. All of the words he’d spoken so freely into the night suddenly feel much more significant than they did when he was saying them. “I didn’t know that,” he mumbles. 

Jimin rolls his eyes. The white toe of his sneaker is becoming dirtier by the second as he drags it back and forth along the trail. “Of course you didn’t,” he says. It’s probably supposed to come out a little more sharply than that, but Jeongguk finds his tone to be more resigned than anything.

Jeongguk flounders for a second, but he recognizes that their meeting today is his chance, and he’s most likely better off trying to say something to keep the conversation going. “I don’t usually hear you,” he tries. He thinks of those moments where he’s gotten a hint at Jimin’s body language – his smile or his flinch, his hesitations and his stuttering heart. “Sometimes I just feel you.” 

Jimin’s toe kicks harder into the ground, and dust floats to their ankles. “Yeah, well, I’m a good listener,” he mumbles. He both sounds and looks closed off. Even if they weren’t next to each other, Jeongguk thinks he’d still probably be able to tell that much. “Besides, I try to keep a clear mind. I force myself not to think of you. There’s not much for you to hear.” 

His voice wavers at the end of his sentence, and it sounds like a lie. Jeongguk can tell it’s a lie. All he gathers from that is that Jimin has still been actively acting against their connection, trying to direct his thoughts and feelings away from Jeongguk. It creates a sinking feeling, starting from his chest and dropping into his belly.

“Oh,” Jeongguk says simply. Only then does he consider that he’s never tried too hard to listen out for what Jimin has been thinking. Even if he hasn’t been talking directly to Jeongguk, this moment is telling him enough. When Jeongguk tunes in, he can sense even the parts of Jimin that he tries to conceal. Jeongguk has been so fixated on trying to ensure that his thoughts meet Jimin that he hasn’t tried to listen in on the other end. It’s a little unsettling. “How come this has never happened in another life?” Jeongguk wonders aloud. 

“Does it look like I know?” Jimin snaps, but his face pinches together. Even if he doesn’t know, Jeongguk thinks it might be something he’s thought about before. More softly, he tacks on, “Maybe it’s because we hated each other so much we never bothered to look deeper. Hatred consumes you like that.” 

Jeongguk’s irritation finally catches up to him, and huffs. Under his breath, he mutters, “Yeah, you’d seem to know. Looks like you’re still hung up on hating me.” 

Jimin gives him a nasty look, baring his teeth. “Sorry I’m not faking it like you, Jeongguk-ah. You don’t know me, and I haven’t given you any reason to like me. Besides, I’m angry . I was doing so well before you came. The whole reason I left Busan was so I could avoid a life full of hate, but clearly that’s not how it was supposed to go for me.” He glances at Jeongguk again, gaze still resentful. “Sorry it’s a little hard to respect someone who first wanted to love me to get rid of me, and now only wants to love me to live out his little soulmate fantasy.” 

Jeongguk flinches hard at his words, but no matter how aware he is that he doesn’t know Jimin, he still gets the feeling that this kind of behavior is unusual for him. Jimin’s soul is so gentle. Despite the fact that all of this should feel unfamiliar, seeing him so angry makes Jeongguk unsettled. 

He’s hurt nonetheless. “That’s not it,” he says under his breath. 

Jimin turns to him. “What?” 

“That’s not it!” Jeongguk repeats, worked up no matter if he wishes he wasn’t. 

“Yeah?” Jimin mutters sarcastically. “Enlighten me, then.” It feels like he’s doing everything he can to hold onto the defensiveness he’s established for himself. He doesn’t want to give in to Jeongguk. Jeongguk just wants to see his walls down.

“At least I’ve tried, Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk says softly. His breath has finally evened out from his run, but his heart rate feels just as fast. All around them, the late afternoon is bathing the mountains in a perfect blue. It feels so tranquil, compared to the energy of the foot of space between them. “I’m not going to fight fate. I’ve tried to talk to you, to let you know me, and you don’t even give a fuck. You ignore me. I know we’re supposed to be together, and I thought really hard about what you said to me. We hate each other for no reason. I agree with you. I mean, I guess you have a reason now, but I don’t. So– I figured we could just… try again. That’s what all of this is. I’m not trying to force anything onto you, but I can’t just do nothing, either. I can’t feel like this all the time.” He swallows, shoving his emotions down. “It’s fucking horrible.”

There’s a long silence taken up by the feeling of Jeongguk’s vulnerability. He didn’t think he was going to say that much, but it wasn’t like he’d sat down on this bench with a plan. Next to him, Jimin is quiet and pensive as his toe digs into the dirt. He plays with his rings. For a second, Jeongguk wonders if Jimin is going to keep trying to resist, but for whatever reason, Jeongguk doesn’t think he will. Jimin seems tired. He clearly doesn’t like being so ceaselessly and needlessly angry. Jeongguk wonders if there’s anything else he could give to Jimin to make him back down from the fight. 

It turns out, he doesn’t have to. 

“You could have tried saying something like that when you talked to me every night,” Jimin mumbles softly. 

Jeongguk cracks an awkward, embarrassed smile. Jimin has a point. “I didn’t think to do that,” he croaks. “I’m sorry. I thought… my intentions were clear. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right. I know Fate isn’t gonna handle all of our problems for us.” He snorts, thinking of their history. “Obviously.” 

Carefully, Jimin crosses his arms over his chest. He meets Jeongguk’s eyes, and he looks soft. Small. Hesitant. “I’m not just gonna give it all up to you and pretend that things are fine. My life was finally moving forward, and you just– barged in.” 

Jeongguk finds it a little hard to believe that everything was alright for him, but he’s not trying to fight again. Instead, he asks, “Did you really not miss me?” 

Jimin narrows his eyes, and Jeongguk realizes how he probably just sounded. 

“No– not like that. Not like you miss your mom, or when you go a long time without seeing your friends. Like… didn’t you feel me missing? I felt you. I knew you were far away, and I couldn’t really go very long without thinking about that. It consumed me.” He laughs awkwardly. “Although, I guess at the time I didn’t realize why I felt that way.” 

Jimin sighs. He plays with his hands a little more and stares down at his lap. “Yeah,” he says finally. “I did. I do. Miss you.” 

Jeongguk sighs as well, relief slipping past his lips. “Okay, yeah. Um, I’m glad it’s not just me.” 

Jimin lets half a smile spread across his face, the first semblance of a grin Jeongguk has seen on him this whole time. He realizes that he’s never truly seen Jimin smile truly, like he’s really happy. “I think if there’s anything we need to learn about all of this, it’s that it’s never gonna be just me or just you. We’re hopelessly tied.”

Jeongguk feels a little thrill when he senses that Jimin is a little more relaxed, so he lets himself be playful. He knows it’s a risk, but he gets the feeling that part of getting close to Jimin will be letting himself feel okay with taking them. “Is it really hopeless?” he asks, a glint in his eye. 

Jimin bites his lip, chewing out his smile. “I’d like to think otherwise,” he admits. 

“So, do you want to try?” Jeongguk asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Like, slowly. Not… not loving each other or anything, just knowing each other.” 

Jimin seems to think it over, but in the end, he ends up ignoring Jeongguk’s question and changes the subject. “You know,” he says slowly, looking over in Jeongguk’s direction, “I finish up classes at the end of the summer, and then I’m… I’m supposed to come dance where you dance. With Hoseok-hyung. I know him, too.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen in surprise, but truthfully, he should have learned by now to see things like this coming. He smiles, pleased to know that Jimin dances in this life, just as he’d suspected. He takes another risk. “Wow, almost like it’s meant to be,” he jokes dryly. 

And finally, blissfully, Jimin laughs. His voice is even higher and sweeter when he’s happy, and even when the music stops, his smile remains. Jeongguk gets a good look at him while his eyes are closed from the weight of joy, and he feels his stomach sink and rise again, as if with the pull of waves. If it wasn’t obvious before, it becomes even more distinct in Jeongguk’s mind as he watches that grin melt away: Jimin is beautiful. 

“Oh,” Jeongguk says suddenly, caught off guard by it. Maybe this is the first instance in which they have truly seen each other, but however Jeongguk saw Jimin seconds ago has intensified tenfold just from the sight of him laughing on this bench – even if it only lasted an instant. 

“What?” Jimin asks. His expression neutralizes, cocking his head with subtle concern for the way Jeongguk is looking at him. 

There’s a brief impulse for Jeongguk to just tell him exactly what he’s thinking, but he has a little more self control than that. He gulps down the words, but they circulate in his head anyway. He supposes, hopes, that one day he’ll get the chance to tell Jimin he’s beautiful, anyway. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbles. Still flustered, he pushes some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes. As if reality has just dawned on him, he finds himself fidgety, unable to sit still. He’s happy that whenever this conversation ends, he has the other half of his run awaiting him. But the anticipation for it doesn’t take away from his nerves right now. “God, this is weird. Is your heart beating really fast?” 

Jimin fidgets, too. “A little, yeah.” He goes back to playing with his hands, and just like that, the rose colored glasses from seeing an ounce of joy on Jimin’s face are suddenly lifted. Jeongguk senses Jimin’s discomfort distinctly, and he feels very tired of being responsible for that. 

He taps his nails on the wood of the bench. “Um, I can go, if you want. I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you so much at night.” He laughs awkwardly. “I really didn’t think you could hear me, to be honest.” He pauses, pulling on the string of his joggers. “Do you… do you really not want to see me?” 

Jimin lifts a sharp, dark eyebrow. Jeongguk almost recoils. Jimin can really be so scary. 

Jeongguk stands at once, muttering, “I’m just checking, alright? Bye, Jimin-hyung.” He starts back down the path, and just as he’s about to pick up into a run, he hears another heavy sigh. 

“Jeongguk-ah, wait.” 

Jeongguk turns on his heel, and when he spins, he faces Jimin, looking small and pretty on the bench. His eyes are downcast but wide nonetheless. 

“I want to,” Jimin mumbles. 

“What?” Jeongguk says, unsure if he heard Jimin right. 

Jimin grumbles, but instead of being harsh, he’s cute. He points his toes in at one another, playing with his rings even more. “You’re really making me say it,” he whines. He looks up and says, “I want to see you, to try again.” He pauses to brace himself, and more quietly, he adds, “The other night… you asked me if I believe in love, and I do. I don’t know if I can just suddenly come to love you, I know it’s up to us to make that happen, but I want to try.” 

Jeongguk has to force his shock not to show up on his face. He stifles his look of disbelief and blinks a few times as he processes. “Oh, I, well. Cool. Great. Um, should we exchange numbers, or something? So I can stop talking into the void at night.” 

Unexpectedly, Jimin laughs again. Only then does Jeongguk notice the blush on his cheeks. “Sure, that works.” 

He reaches his phone out to Jeongguk, who has started to shake his leg. “Maybe, well, I don’t know when you work or go to school but, we could get lunch one day? If that’s not too weird.” 

He remembers to take the phone from Jimin’s hand, and Jimin lets another pretty smile spread across his face. Amused, he cocks his head. “Aish, I always thought you were faking it. Are you really this nervous?” 

Jeongguk’s blush, assuredly, gives Jimin’s a run for its money. He wipes a nervous hand over his face, as if that could get rid of emotion written all over it. “Hyung, why would I fake being awkward?” he moans. 

He types his number into Jimin’s phone and sends himself a text, but he feels Jimin’s eyes on him all the while, evaluative and a little intimidating. “You’re not awkward, you’re just shy. I thought it was an act.” 

Jeongguk rubs the back of his neck as he hands Jimin’s phone back to him. “Ahh, nope.” 

“It’s actually kind of cute,” Jimin notes casually, a glint in his eye. 

“What?” Jeongguk asks, gaping. 

Jimin shrugs, but he breaks eye contact at the last second. “We’re trying again, aren’t we?” he asks. “I’m bound to flirt with you at some point.” 

Jeongguk falters. “I–” he starts. Narrowing his gaze, he murmurs, “Are you the type to flirt with everyone?” 

Jimin winks at him as he tucks his phone away. “You’re just going to have to find out. That’s the point here, isn’t it?” 

Jeongguk laughs nervously, tucking his dark hair behind his ears. “Yeah, um. I guess it is. I really will get going now, so goodnight, hyung. Don’t stay out on the mountainside too late…” 

“Cute,” Jimin says again, looking pleased with himself. He crosses legs, and Jeongguk can’t quite read the way Jimin is looking at him. All he knows is that it doesn’t feel bad. “Text me, Jeon Jeongguk. You’re lucky I like second chances.” 

Jeongguk blanches, then pulls a face when he finds an opening to keep up their banter. He hopes that this kind of talk can become habit. “Between all of our lives, this is hardly a second chance,” he jokes. 

Jimin’s lip quirks, like he wants to laugh again. “Well, whatever chance it is, I want to be happy that I gave it to you.” 

Jeongguk lets out a little whine. “Wow, way to leave this on a terrifying note,” he mumbles dryly. 

Jimin does laugh again this time, even higher and louder than the last time. His head tips back, and the column of his throat is shown off. Happiness suits him. Jeongguk’s rib cage rattles with what feels like a migration of butterflies. Everything feels heightened. It’s as if Jeongguk can sense in real time the way their bond is strengthening, even if it’s just a little bit. He feels like Fate is patting them both on the back. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin says slowly, still smiling, “it’s only fair that we’re both terrified, right?” 

There’s an ounce of worry behind Jimin’s teasing, and then Jeongguk remembers, right – this is just as scary for him as it is for Jeongguk himself. 

JIMIN

mood: you’re on my mind – tom misch 

Jeongguk texts him the very same night they meet on the mountainside, and Jimin knows it’s coming. He feels Jeongguk’s nerves for at least an hour from across the city as Jeongguk ponders over what to say, and Jimin is only able to sigh in relief that the anxiety dissipates when his phone vibrates with a text in his pocket. Through a little bit of tense back and forth via text, they end up deciding to have sandwiches in one the parks between where they live a few days from now. 

jeongguk | 9:50PM

i get the feeling that you like being outside

jimin | 9:52PM

how come?

jeongguk | 9:53PM

idk, because you hike a lot? and you seemed happy today. when i saw u, u were staring up at the leaves and the sky.

jimin | 9:55PM

ig you can read me pretty well

do you like it too?

jeongguk | 9:57PM

no, not really

but if you like it, i’ll go with you

jimin | 10:05PM

are you just saying that to be nice?

jeongguk | 10:07PM

no

that’s just the way i am

i swear

jimin | 10:08PM

okay then

that sounds lovely, actually

jeongguk | 10:10PM

cool, perfect

i’m excited

jimin | 10:21PM

me too

But for as easy as making the plans is, Jimin can’t help but feel unsettled throughout the days leading up to them seeing one another. He overthinks constantly, but he also has to force himself to quiet his thoughts. He would hate for Jeongguk to hear him stressing about this. For a reason he doesn’t fully understand, Jimin finds himself not wanting Jeongguk to be any less sure of himself. He didn’t admit it when they met on Jimin’s hike, but he kind of likes Jeongguk’s determination for them to be together. One of them ought to feel that confident, right? Maybe it should be a little less surprising, but Jimin actually finds it quite easy to stop hating and resenting Jeongguk, though he feels like he should have anticipated that, considering they’re fated to do the opposite. He wonders if it’s just because of their destiny, but he also thinks it might have something to do with the fact that Jeongguk is blatantly earnest, or the look of his big, honest eyes. 

Still, Jimin finds himself confused. As natural as it is to break his habit of either being averse to Jeongguk or trying to ignore him altogether, he still feels the absence of that part of his routine. It’s not that he misses hating Jeongguk, it’s more like he’s puzzled over what takes its place as the alternative. His thoughts become taken up by other things that leave Jimin wondering why all of this feels so simple. 

Jeongguk continues to talk to him sometimes, though usually not late at night. Sometimes, when Jimin chalks up the courage, he answers. Most of the time he finds it hard to think of what to say. He’s not sure where to start. But a few days after their meeting on the bench, Jimin can sense Jeongguk at practice. He feels him fumble over the choreography, and in his mind the echoes of Jeongguk’s, “Fuck!” seem so roaringly loud that he has to squeeze his eyes shut. Without even thinking, Jimin goes to sooth him, murmuring under his breath as he does his homework. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Try again.” 

And a few minutes later he can tell that Jeongguk has it down. He swears he almost hears Jeongguk saying thank you.

The cycle of Jimin’s thoughts keeps him up at night, and he wonders if Jeongguk can hear him thinking. Jimin toys with the idea of love and tries not to dwell on it, but he figures it’s probably a little bit of irony that when he chases those thoughts away, ones about Jeongguk’s bashful smile come into his imagination instead.

The day before they’re supposed to meet, Jimin fights fitfully with sleep, and unsure whether it’s supposed to be a lullaby or an alarm, there’s Jeongguk’s voice, telling him about his day. He’s launching into a story about his shift at the arcade from earlier, and Jimin finds that he not only has no way to ignore Jeongguk, but that he also doesn’t want to. Midway through his story, Jeongguk interrupts himself with quiet laughter, murmuring into the night air, “Oh, fuck, I forgot I’m not supposed to do this anymore. I’m sorry, I think talking to you kind of became a habit. You can hear me, right? I can stop and bother Yoongi-hyung with this story instead. I think he and Seokjin-hyung would get along.” 

Jimin laughs lightly, and he does his best to make sure it reaches Jeongguk. He doesn’t reply, but every ounce of energy he sends out toward Jeongguk says keep going, and he does. 

Long after Jeongguk’s voice and presence quiets, Jimin still wrestles with sleep. He slips out of his bed and knocks on Taehyung’s door, finding his friend laughing at his PC as he games. Taehyung stops what he’s doing at once when he sees Jimin in the doorway, looking small, looking scared. 

“Cuddles?” Taehyung asks without question. 

Jimin nods. They curl up together in Taehyung’s bed, and Jimin talks aimlessly about his worries, knowing that Taehyung will, ceaselessly, tirelessly, listen. 

“Taehyung-ah, I’m so confused,” he mumbles. 

“Did something bad happen?” Taehyung asks. He pets Jimin’s hair softly, fits his touch attune to Jimin’s feelings. 

Jimin shakes his head. “No,” he says. He cracks half a smile, knowing Taehyung will probably be amused, too. “That’s sort of the problem, really. Things feel too good.” 

Taehyung does smile at him, but with his lips pressed to Jimin’s forehead, he murmurs, “Explain. Tell me what you’re feeling.” 

Jimin sighs then squirms, but once he resettles on the bed, he decides to just let it out. “I guess it’s like… it’s weird how easy it is with Jeongguk, for me to talk to him and listen to him? We haven’t spoken that much, and half of it is in our own heads through that weird soulmate telepathy or whatever, but I think I’m just scared. Maybe that’s not the right word. Wary, maybe? Apprehensive?”

“Apprehensive of him?” Taehyung asks with his head cocked. “Apprehensive of what?”

Jimin shakes his head. “No, Jeongguk isn’t the scary part. He’s fine. He’s sweet, even. It’s funny, actually. One of the things that used to drive me nuts about him is that I always thought he would fake being shy or nervous, but it turns out it wasn’t an act.” He laughs warmly, thinking of Jeongguk’s blush. “It’s actually kind of cute.” 

Taehyung smiles at Jimin again, and Jimin knows it’s because he’s seeing the first signs of Jimin’s heart as it starts to open up. “Then what is it?” Taehyung asks. 

Jimin gnaws his lip. “I think after hating each other for so long, for being separate for so long… I feel almost nervous of my own feelings? I can finally take a step back and think about how I actually feel instead of that gross hate I thought I was supposed to be feeling, and – it’s kind of scary, how easy it is. Thinking about Jeongguk is easy, talking to him is easy, being with him is easy. I guess it sort of feels like love – well, that’s not the right word, but you know what I mean – is supposed to be harder? I mean, of course when we were apart, I knew – I felt – that we were doing something wrong. But now, on the other hand, I feel like I should be fighting to have any kind of relationship, because that’s what I’m used to. And not just with him. With everyone.” 

Taehyung catches on those last words. “What do you mean, with everyone?” 

Jimin knows, of course, that Taehyung is thinking of himself in that case. Taehyung and Jimin’s relationship, no matter their disagreements or bickering, has never been anything but easy. They haven’t had to fight for it. “I mean, well. In past lives. Not this one.” Jimin smiles at Taehyung and touches his cheek to ease away his worry. “All my friends in this life have come so easily to me, so much that they’ve almost felt like soulmates, or at least people I’m meant to have a connection with. But this is the first time that’s ever happened.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to keep us with you from now on. It’s normal for your soul to bond to people,” Taehyung says with a dreamy look in his eye. He finds Jimin’s wrist and clutches it. 

“I hope so,” Jimin says. 

“I’m serious, though, Jimin-ah. This life is different. You have us, you have this new thing with Jeongguk, you have all these connections. You must be meant to have them. Fate isn’t just giving these things to you for nothing.” 

Jimin swallows heavily, and for once, when thinking about the future like this, he feels like Taehyung might be right. After just a little bit of mending with Jeongguk, he already feels like he’s supposed to be carrying his friends into his next life. Jeongguk, too. He wiggles his wrist in Taehyung’s grasp to slot their fingers together. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, maybe.” 

Taehyung’s lip twitches when he notices the worry remaining all over Jimin’s face. “So you’re nervous because you feel like things are too easy?” 

A little embarrassed, Jimin nods. It’s not that he wants conflict or hardship. Sometimes he just feels like he attracts it. 

Taehyung uses his free hand to stroke Jimin’s hair. “Jimin-ah,” he murmurs. “This is what’s supposed to be happening. As cliché as it might sound, you and Jeongguk are meant to be together. Fate’s hand is guiding you. You were chosen for one another. It only makes sense that you work well together, right?” 

It sounds stupidly obvious when put like that, so Jimin nods again, embarrassed even further. 

“Quite frankly, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung continues, “I know nothing about soulmates, except for what you and Hoseokie have told me. But I think I know quite a lot about people, and I can pretty much guarantee you that things aren’t going to be easy forever. So enjoy the good parts, okay? I’m happy you and him are getting along. Have you been talking to each other more? You already seem so much better than you were a few days ago.”

Jimin picks at Taehyung’s duvet, noting the warm rush that talking about Jeongguk now gives him and trying not to push it down. He knows it’s supposed to be there. “We have been talking,” Jimin murmurs. “Sometimes by accident. We can just feel each other. It’s weird, really.” Taehyung just smiles at him, unjudging and kind. “I know you’re right, by the way. I’m sure it won’t stay easy. We both still have a lot of bad… gross feelings harbored for one another. And I made it clear to him that I’m not just gonna give it up right away and rush to fall in love or whatever it is that soulmates do.” 

Taehyung laughs at him, always so gentle when it comes to Jimin. “As you should. If you want things to stay good in the long run, you have to do them the right way, no matter what Fate says.” Jimin is about to jump in with his agreement, but Taehyung cuts him off. “ But, but– you also deserve love, Jimin-ah. I know it’s been a long time without it, but you do deserve it. You deserve to feel good. I know it can be strange when things start to feel good after a long time of them feeling really bad and shitty. I get why you’re apprehensive, y’know? I’m sure things feel a little unnatural, or like you’re being pranked, like it might stop at any moment. But this is real life, baby. Good is supposed to come your way.” 

Jimin has to blink back a few tears by the time Taehyung is finished speaking, having not realized how emotional he even became. He sniffles and squeezes Taehyung’s hand, and Taehyung brushes his hair out of his eyes. Jimin is tempted to say something like, I already have love, here, with you, but they’re not talking about that. They don’t have to; it’s so deeply implied. He doesn’t want to take away from Taehyung’s words, either, because he knows exactly what Taehyung means. There are so many different types of love, and Jimin is aware that Taehyung thinks Jimin deserves all of them. And they’re both very well aware of the fact that the type of love he’ll experience with Jeongguk is so different from any type he may have felt in the past. He knows that Taehyung wants him to experience love with his soulmate, after so many lifetimes of being denied it. 

He blinks wetly at Taehyung, and they talk with their eyes. They might not be soulmates in the traditional sense, but they certainly have their own language. Souls bond, Taehyung had said. Jimin could feel stupid for not recognizing it sooner, but this is the first life that it’s ever happened to him.

Taehyung cups his cheek, and from his grin alone, Jimin can tell the mood has shifted. Jimin is grateful for it. It’s late, but he’d rather be playful before he sleeps than teary-eyed. 

“Frankly,” Taehyung drawls, staring deep into Jimin’s eyes, “it’s no wonder happiness and romance have finally taken to you. How could they not, hm? You’re quite the bachelor, aren’t you? So charming. Just like the rest of the world, they probably want to give you everything.” 

Jimin bursts into laughter at Taehyung’s silly sweetness, and rolling around together in Taehyung’s silken sheets, sleep finally comes, and with it some of his anxiety is swept off into dreams.  

After a mostly fitful sleep, Jimin wakes up anxious the next day, and he knows immediately that Jeongguk had a similar sort of night. Their nerves bounce through space and ricochet off of one another, amplified. Jimin is distinctly aware that it’s probably not the best way to commence this new phase of their relationship, but part of him is comforted by the fact that Jeongguk is anxious, too. They already seem to be echoing each other, and it’s nice to know that they’ve already managed to find a way to be on the same page – even if it’s as trivial as something like first-date nerves. 

Jeongguk doesn’t take too long to reach out in the morning, asking questions about what Jimin likes to eat and adding lots of emoticons that Jimin gets the feeling are only there to mask his worries. It’s cute. When Jeongguk says he’s going to stop by a local bakery he’s discovered recently to get them sandwiches, Jimin figures he ought to bring something, too. He pries for Jeongguk’s coffee order, and then time is left to simply draw out slowly for the rest of the morning, until they’re scheduled to meet. Jimin’s thoughts go in circles, but he’s painfully clued into the fact that there’s nothing he can do to stop them. At the very least, he knows that across the city, those very same thoughts are going counterclockwise in Jeongguk’s head. 

When Jimin arrives at the park that they decided on a few days before, Jeongguk is already there. He looks up at Jimin with big eyes. One strand of dark black hair falls onto his forehead, but the rest is parted and tucked behind his ears. An array of dangly earrings hang from his ears, and they sway back and forth as Jeongguk tilts his head. He sits on a soft blanket, and by his side are the sandwiches he must have gotten from the bakery. The look on his face is definitely nervous, but he’s expectant and bright, too. 

The first thing that Jimin thinks is that Taehyung’s reaction to seeing Jeongguk for the first time certainly had not been unwarranted. Jeongguk is somehow even more beautiful in this life, but Jimin thinks that perhaps he only feels that way because this is the first time he’s truly allowing himself to see Jeongguk in such a light. If he were to write his thoughts down, a poet would probably cringe. 

Beautiful is an understatement; a poet would describe him far better.

He waves to Jimin, and Jimin’s eyes trace the muscles in his biceps as he lifts his arm. Jimin wonders how he can look so gorgeous in such an effortless outfit – simple in black cargo pants, a white tee, and a dark flannel tied around his waist. His gentle, somewhat bashful smile overtakes his face, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to stand up. Jimin gets an inkling that Jeongguk might want to hug him, but unusually enough for Jimin, he’s not sure if he can handle anything tactile yet. 

He sits down before Jeongguk gets the chance to get up, plopping his leather bag onto the blanket and plucking one of the plastic coffee cups out of the tray. He thrusts it in Jeongguk’s direction, the condensation so quick to drip down his hand. 

“Iced latte?” are the first words Jimin says. 

Jeongguk blinks a few times before taking it, pushing the straw past his lips as he takes a sip. He hums happily before placing the cup between his criss-crossed legs. His eyelashes cast soft shadows on his face as he looks at Jimin; a dimple teases at his cheek, as if it’s not quite ready to make an appearance. 

“Hi, hyung,” says Jeongguk. His gaze is all over the place – a sign of his nerves. His eyes bounce over to the other people in the park, where they eat and play and gaze out at the river. When he looks back to Jimin again, he offers his biggest smile yet, the dimple getting over its earlier shyness and carving beautifully into the side of Jeongguk’s face. “It’s good to see you.”  

And for once in all his lives, as he takes in the picture of Jeongguk bathed in early afternoon sunlight, Jimin can finally say, “It’s good to see you, too.” 

The words still feel strange in his mouth – foreign and far different than anything Jimin has ever said to Jeongguk before – but as unfamiliar as it is to do something like this, it doesn’t feel wrong. He knows he will have to work hard to get rid of his reflex to glare at Jeongguk, but Jeongguk is inviting. With his warmth and open face, his shiny hair and his welcoming, big eyes, Jimin reckons it might not take too long to form new habits. 

Jeongguk’s smile grows, but his hands fidget, rustling with the crinkly to-go bag with the sandwiches in it. He doesn’t even try to open it, simply uses the bag as a method to occupy his hands. He laughs awkwardly. “Well, I’m no good at this. You might have to carry the team here,” he states. 

His round eyes and little pout have Jimin laughing in an instant – he’s clapping his hands onto his thighs as he giggles before he even realizes it. “No good at what?” Jimin chuckles. “Talking? Are the great outdoors getting to you?” 

“Talking is hard!” Jeongguk insists, scratching his cheek. He’s still smiling. “And it’s not that I don’t like nature… I do. It’s just hard to get me out of the house sometimes. For like, sightseeing.” 

Jimin blinks, amused. “Sightseeing? We’re at a park.” 

“Well,” Jeongguk drawls, poking his tongue at his cheek, “I’ve never been here before.” 

“Right,” says Jimin, “you’re new to Seoul. I guess this is all kind of new to you.” 

Jeongguk nods. Bashfully, he adds, “I’m kind of a homebody.” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “And yet you moved across the country?” 

“Yeah,” says Jeongguk easily, snapping and unsnapping one of the many buttons on the pockets of his pants. “For you.” 

His gaze is strong but guileless as he looks at Jimin, but Jimin is forced to look away at once, hanging his head with a blush. He mumbles into his lap. “Aish, Jeongguk-ah, you’re not fucking around.” 

“Sorry,” Jeongguk says, “was that too much? I didn’t mean it like– to flirt with you.” 

Jimin recomposes himself. He lifts his head with a soft smile and shrugs. “Even if you were, it’s fine,” he mumbles. “And if you weren’t flirting with me, it’s still true in the literal sense. You did move across the country for me. Plus, we’re gonna have to get used to this anyway.” 

Jeongguk cocks his head, and a few more strands of hair fall in front of his eyes. The sun seems to want to do him every favor; he absolutely glows in its light. “Used to what?” 

Jimin gestures lamely between the two of them. “All of this. Y’know, sitting across from each other without having a sword at each other’s throat.” 

Jeongguk gnaws on his lip to bite back a playful smile, but he fails.”Do you mean that literally?” he asks. “Because I feel like I’d remember that happening. If not, I could definitely picture it.” 

Vaguely, Jimin imagines them sword fighting as enemies in their past lives, but he can’t quite conjure up a memory of it. Either way, it’s enough to make him laugh again. “Who knows what we were doing a thousand years ago.” 

“Do you think we ever fucked?” Jeongguk blurts. 

Jimin blanches. He feels like he’d remember that, too, but maybe not. “Um,” he mumbles. 

Jeongguk is bright red, but he pushes through for the sake of the joke. “I’m just saying,” he stammers, “enemies to lovers is kind of a sexy trope.” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin mutters, a little shocked but mostly very, very endeared. 

“Hate sex?” Jeongguk says, lowering his eyes despite his blush firmly in place. “Delicious.” 

Jimin laughs even harder, pressing his hands into his hot cheeks. “Jeongguk-ah, holy shit.” 

Jeongguk places both of his palms behind him and leans back on them. “And if I had a sword, I know I’d be irresistible.” 

Jimin eyes the way his chest flexes beneath that loose white shirt of his. As he notes the cut of Jeongguk’s arms, he finds it hard to disagree. Still, he raises an eyebrow, refusing to let their fun die down. “And what about me?” 

“You too, of course,” Jeongguk is quick to amend. “Everyone can have a sword. It’s instant sexy points.” 

Jimin nearly wheezes because of the way he laughs, utterly captivated with Jeongguk’s ability to be both incredibly shameless and incredibly embarrassed all at once. “Oh my God,” he chokes out. “You’re killing me.” 

Reality seems to catch up with Jeongguk just then, and he rubs a sheepish hand along the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I just finished rewatching Inuyasha. Maybe the sword thing is going to my head.” 

Jimin is even more charmed when he hears Jeongguk so freely talk about his interests, and he smirks. “Trying to wield the Tessaiga?” he asks, referring to the main character’s giant sword. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. If it weren’t such a heavy implication, Jimin would say that Jeongguk looks like he falls in love a little right then and there. “You’ve seen Inuyasha? ” 

Jimin nods. “Yeah, I like anime. It’s a classic.” 

Jeongguk pretends to swoon, letting out a dreamy sigh as he sweeps the back of his hand over his forehead. “Maybe we really are meant to be,” he breathes in a high-pitched voice. 

Jimin cracks up even further, falling over his own lap and slamming his hands onto the blanket. He always seems to lose control of his limbs when he laughs, and only once he’s sitting up and catching his breath does he realize that throughout this entire conversation, he hasn’t doubted the way that he and Jeongguk are getting along at all. There’s been no room for second-guessing between Jeongguk’s silly jokes and all of Jimin’s giggles. Things feel so natural that there’s no reason to question it. 

Jimin raises an eyebrow once he’s managed to compose himself, looking Jeongguk up and down. His cheeks are bright pink and his hair has gone messy from a combination of the wind and his nervous hands tucking and untucking it from behind his ears. “I never imagined my arch nemesis, the angry Jeon Jeongguk-ssi, would be such a dork.” 

“Excuse me,” Jeongguk intones, still playful, “you didn’t flinch once. I know you agreed with everything I said, which means you’re a dork too.”

Jimin shrugs even though he’s already trying to hold back his laughter again. “Okay, yeah, I’d be pretty hot with a sword. Although enemies to lovers isn’t usually my favorite trope. I mean, in Inuyasha , he and Kagome were great strangers to lovers.” 

A thoughtful look appears on Jeongguk’s face. “Was it really strangers to lovers, though? If she’s Kikyo’s reincarnation?” 

Jimin’s mouth opens to rebut, but it closes soon after. “Fair point,” he says eventually. “Maybe I need to rewatch to decide.” 

“I’ll watch it with you!” 

A pleased smile – however unexpectedly that pleased feeling may be – appears on Jimin’s face. “Are you already asking me on another date, Jeongguk-ssi?” 

Jeongguk blushes, his goofy confidence traded in an instant for that sense of unease. “Is this a date?” Jeongguk asks softly. 

Jimin touches the soft grey blanket that Jeongguk brought for them to sit on it. He traces his fingers with his eyes to avoid making eye contact. “I mean, I think so?” he mumbles. “I think… I want it to be.” 

“Really?” Jeongguk asks, and he’s not teasing. He seems like he’s genuinely concerned if Jimin is telling the truth. 

“Don’t make me say it again,” Jimin moans. 

“Is hyung embarrassed?” comes the response. Now he’s teasing. 

Jimin snaps his eyes up, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have no room to talk, your cheeks have been bright red this whole time.” 

Jeongguk just his chin out, but his eyes shake just a little bit. “And I’m owning it, right?” 

Jimin smiles at him. He’s full of contrasts like this – broad and big with that body of his, but soft and understated as he drowns it in his loose clothes. He’s got a confident tone and that damn smirk, but there are parts of him that are eroded, vulnerable. Jimin likes it. Jeongguk feels like so many things at once. 

“Yeah, you’re cute,” he replies softly, easily. “I still can’t believe you actually just get flustered easily.” 

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose and tugs at his shirt a bit. “Ah, well. As you can see, I’m kind of hot and cold when I’m nervous. I either say nothing or…” He gestures lamely around them. “Word vomit.” 

With a shrug, Jimin soothes, “It didn’t feel like word vomit. You’re easy to talk to.” 

“Oh,” says Jeongguk. He fiddles with the crinkly to-go bag again. “Cool. Do you want to eat?” 

Jimin smiles once again. He hardly expected to feel so happy so quickly, but he figures after all this, he shouldn’t try to fight it. “Sure,” he murmurs, and their afternoon progresses just as simply as that. As they sip their coffee and eat their sandwiches, the air between them swells and levels into easy troughs and peaks. They go between silence made up of stuffed cheeks and pleased sounds caused by tasty food, back into easy conversation. There are no distinguishable lulls; there’s no awkwardness. Throughout it all, Jimin wonders if Jeongguk can hear any of his thoughts. He wonders if he senses when Jimin starts to stare too long when he looks in the other direction, or if he can tell just how happy Jimin is in this moment. 

When they’d first tapped into their connection deep enough to hear each other, Jimin had frankly felt a little scared. It was nerve wracking to hear Jeongguk’s voice in his head every night, and he was even more nervous about Jeongguk hearing his own thoughts. It cost him a lot of energy to stop them from reaching him – although, after all this time fighting Fate, Jimin has developed quite the skill for it. Now, however, Jimin finds himself at ease with it. It’s as if once he allowed himself to succumb to it, he came to understand why it’s there. 

If Jeongguk can hear his thoughts, he thinks, so be it. During their easy afternoon at the park, he feels like he has nothing to hide. 

Jimin studies Jeongguk as he stares out at the river peacefully. Their conversation has dropped off again, but Jimin can feel Jeongguk’s air of calm even from across the blanket. He takes the time to look at Jeongguk less inhibited; so many times in the past, he’d been quick to tear his eyes away, too caught up in rage to look at him for a long time, let alone keep a vivid picture of him in his mind. He traces the pretty line of Jeongguk’s neck and the sharp angle of his jaw. His eyes wander from Jeongguk’s profile, to his hands, all the way down to the way he’s neatly folded his legs. As he admires, he picks out some of the tiny moles decorating Jeongguk’s body. As he traces over all of the ones visible, he very quickly realizes he has ones in the same place. 

He nearly laughs aloud. One of the popular soulmate theories suggests that each set of soulmates have one or more matching body marks, and to identify one’s soulmate, they must match up perfectly. The body marks are supposedly present in every life, whether a freckle, a mole, a scar, or otherwise. He counts three on him and Jeongguk – their pinkies, their necks, and their foreheads. When he points them out, he’s not sure if he makes note of it out loud or in his head, but Jeongguk replies anyway. 

“Wow,” Jeongguk laughs, holding out his pinky to press it against Jimin’s. When they touch, it feels like static, but because Jeongguk doesn’t comment on it, neither does Jimin. “Of all the weird myths about soulmates, I would have never guessed that one would be true.” 

Jimin looks at the stark mole, dark on the smooth, pretty skin of Jeongguk’s neck. “It could just be coincidence.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jeongguk admits, sticking out his pinky a little straighter, “but I kind of like it.” 

“Me too,” says Jimin. Perhaps more intensely than ever before, even when Jimin closes his eyes, he can feel Jeongguk’s presence. 

There’s a beat of heavy silence, far heavier than any earlier. “Hey, hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles quietly. “Are you freaked out a little?” 

Jimin blinks open his eyes, lowering his hand and turning to look at Jeongguk more directly. “What do you mean?” 

Jeongguk lets out a little chuckle and braces his hands on both of his knees, rocking forward once. “Like… this is easy, right? I mean, it feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Jimin scrubs his face as it fills with heat. “Yeah, it does,” he says, and then he laughs, because of course he and Jeongguk are feeling the same things. “It’s actually been driving me crazy, how easy it is. I was so against letting you in, but I turns out I don’t really have to try that hard. It’s happening anyway.” 

He doesn’t mean to sound so cynical about it all, considering how much fun he’s actually having, but he figures he at least owes Jeongguk a little honesty, especially when he reflects on how stressed he was this week. Jeongguk, to Jimin’s surprise, sighs in relief as though he agrees. 

“Yeah, me too. I know I wanted this in the first place, but it’s still a little unsettling to see how well we get along after hating each other for so many lives.” 

“I know, I’m not used to it,” Jimin admits. “It makes me feel like we’re being left out of some inside joke that we don’t get. Or like, I’m cheating. I feel like it can’t possibly be this easy.” 

Jeongguk simply hums. “I guess we’re both being proven wrong. As good as they might feel, it’s still weird . But I’m glad you feel it, too. It’s… comforting.” After another long pause, Jeongguk speaks up again, a pretty smile dancing at his lips. “Um, Jimin-hyung? I also wanted to apologize.” 

Jimin visibly recoils at his words. He can’t think of any reason why Jeongguk would want to apologize after they just talked about they’re very much on the same wavelength. “What?” he blurts. “Why? You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

Jeongguk smiles wryly. Even when he’s got something tucked up his sleeve, Jimin can now see clearly how hopelessly earnest he is. Truly and indisputably, he’s gorgeous. “Not today, maybe,” Jeongguk murmurs. “But I realize that I probably didn’t sound great when I said I wanted to be with you without knowing you. I really do want to know you, not just because we’re supposed to be together.”

Jimin figured all that. Between his cute nervous habits and how raw his voice sounded when he talked to Jimin every night, Jimin very quickly gathered that Jeongguk isn’t just in it because of some selfish reason. If he were selfish, he’d have no reason to try so hard, let alone attempt to know Jimin any deeper than the surface. He’s already laid himself bare to Jimin in so many ways – that kind of sacrifice isn’t for the faint of heart. Clearly, Jeongguk is much more valiant and much more emotional than Jimin had ever thought. 

Still, Jimin’s apprehensions are fighting with his sense of reason. “And when did you decide that?” he asks curiously. He’s mostly indulging himself, but he’s getting to know Jeongguk. Their connection aside, he knows there’s a lot for him to learn about the way Jeongguk thinks.

Jeongguk pulls at his lower lip with his fingers. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “Since we ran into each other, maybe? That first night, even though we fought, I still liked that side of you. You’re strong, and you say what’s on your mind, and you laugh at my stupid jokes. As weird as it is to say after all this time, I like you.” 

“Oh,” says Jimin. 

Jeongguk smiles warily. “It’s okay if you don’t really like me that much. I get it. We tormented each other for a long time, even in this life.” 

“No, no. I do like you,” Jimin is quick to interject. The words feel foreign on his tongue, but it almost feels like a new language. Even if he doesn’t recognize them coming out of his own mouth, that doesn’t suddenly take away from their meaning. Their newness doesn’t make them any less true. “You said it yourself – you make me laugh. You’re kind. You’re considerate. I’m not… faking it to appease you.” 

Jeongguk smiles faintly. He looks at Jimin with a tilted head. Those pesky strands of hair fall out from behind his ears again. His eyes are warm. “I didn’t think you would.” 

Jimin feels a little flushed from his gaze, but he straightens his shoulders anyway. “Well, I’m letting you know that I do like you, Jeongguk-ah. The same way you did for me. It’s something that feels good to hear, isn’t it?” He stares down at his little pinky again, the mark on his skin where he and Jeongguk meet without touching at all. “We have a long way to go, but I’m a little less scared now. And to be honest, I wanted to say I’m sorry, too. I spent a long time acting out against Fate, and it came to bite me in the ass.” He laughs dryly, but Jeongguk doesn’t laugh with him. He’s engrossed in Jimin’s words. Those big eyes don’t waver for a second. 

Jimin takes a deep breath before he continues. “Not only that, but it was at your expense. I was… unnecessarily mean. Cruel. That’s not me, I want you to know. I hated myself when I was acting that way. It’s just not who I am. If anything, I should have been happy that you still wanted to get to know me after I acted like that.” 

Jeongguk knits his eyebrows. “Hyung–” he tries. 

Jimin cuts him off. “Jeongguk-ah, can I ask you a favor?” 

Jeongguk nods right away, inching a little bit closer on the blanket. The toe of his big, clunky sneaker brushes against Jimin’s exposed ankle. “It might not be possible,” Jimin starts, “or easy, for that matter. But, can we try our best to give the two of us a clean slate?” 

Jeongguk smiles prettily. Again, he looks relieved. “Yeah. I think I’d like that, too. I feel like it’ll probably be good for us.” 

Jimin isn’t sure what he was expecting as a response, but he’s happy it’s this. Suddenly flustered, he musters, “Cool. Um. Thank you.” Carefully, he shifts the position of their feet, and this time, he knocks his shoe into Jeongguk’s ankle. Jeongguk gives him a shy smile. 

Not seconds later, he’s smirking. Immediately, he dissolves the lingering emotional tension that both of them are too apprehensive to breach. “So um… enemies to lovers then, huh?” 

Jimin snorts, muttering, “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself, brat.” 

“Ahead of myself? You’re the one who called this a date!” He gestures down at his body and waggles his eyebrows. “I know you want some of this.” 

And, of course, in an instant, like clockwork– no, like they’ve reinvented time so that it started the moment they sat down in this park, Jimin bursts into laughter. Across from him, Jeongguk is beaming. 

✧

mood: post humorous – gus dapperton

From there forward, Jimin realizes that Jeongguk has an uncanny ability to make life feel quick again. Suddenly, Jimin’s day-to-day becomes almost unrecognizable. Jeongguk’s presence in Jimin’s life creates feelings that Jimin has never experienced before. Whereas Jimin had grown accustomed to a certain sense dullness – a lingering lack of fulfillment, the constant rush of nerves that had him looking over his shoulder, the hint of fear that him second-guessing that he was doing the right thing – Jeongguk, somehow, sweeps that away. The slow, dragging pace of life that Jimin was used to is traded for a great surge. 

Everything starts to move so fast. Time and all the things within it start to move like water downhill. One good feeling flows into another. It’s not a tiring rush, but life starts to pass swiftly, slipping by because he’s not focused on time itself, or the ways he’s wasting it. For the first time, he wishes he had a way to slow it down again, so he could notice more, live things a second time around. Plainly, things feel much easier than they were before. 

They spend time together little by little, still tied down by both their existing obligations and lives, along with their remaining worries that inevitably have them doubting their actions sometimes. Jeongguk fits into all the places where Jimin expected him not to. They take the time to learn each other. Their afternoons are usually spent getting food together or going for walks, and they rarely do more than talk. Most of the time they tell stories and crack jokes, and it feels good not to rush things. 

Jeongguk talks about his parents often. He calls home a lot. He tells Jimin about Yoongi, too, and it gives Jimin a little spark of joy when he learns more about the person his dear friend is destined to be with. Jimin learns that Jeongguk sings when there’s a lull in their conversation. He mostly wears black but he looks cute and sunny when he decides to opt for a little color. Sometimes he and Seokjin stay after hours at the arcade and game until three in the morning. He hates strong smells but loves to sniff into the collar of a freshly washed shirt. He’s scared of little and loves a lot. 

There has never been an afternoon that Jimin has seen Jeongguk and hasn’t laughed. Late nights, when Jimin’s worries slip through the cracks and find their way to Jeongguk, Jeongguk always does his best to calm him down. Jeongguk makes it so Jimin doesn’t have to fear his emotions. On nights where trading their voices back and forth through space isn’t enough, Jeongguk will sit up on his roof and call Jimin just to talk. Jimin likes those nights best, because no matter how nice it is that their connection allows them to always reach each other, hearing a tinny crackling voice through the phone line reminds Jimin that all of this is real, instead of just living in his imagination. 

The more comfortable they get with each other, the more often they find themselves meeting up late, after work or Jimin’s classes. They’re both night owls with wide eyes by way of midnight, and they make a habit of getting a little too excited in the snack aisle of the closest convenience store. They’ll sit at a table outside and enjoy the summer air, trading sips of soda and banana milk, a jelly for a piece of chocolate. 

Every new fact that Jimin tucks away for later makes him wonder how he ever hated Jeongguk in the first place. And whenever things start to feel too easy again, Taehyung’s voice echoes in Jimin’s mind, a little reminder of what he deserves, a piece of Fate saying that things are supposed to be this way. 

Jimin finds himself with a little serendipity one afternoon. That’s been happening a lot, too. Even on the days when he’s not looking for Jeongguk, they find each other anyway. He heads to HOPE Studio after his morning classes, Hoseok’s wallet tucked neatly into his bag. Taehyung had practically begged him this morning to bring it back to Hoseok after he’d left it at the dinner table wherever the two of them went out to last night. Jimin had begrudgingly agreed, but deep down he’s happy to see Hoseok, even just for a little while. 

The studio door is unlocked when he arrives, and he enters to find Hoseok stone-faced and stoic. He doesn’t even react when Jimin walks in. Instead his eyes stay fixated on his dancer, watching every step and misstep made during the routine. Jimin’s eyes wander the space, but he knew as soon as he walked in the door that the person in front of the mirrors would be Jeongguk. His chest heaves by the time the song ends, but Hoseok’s eyes stay hard as he walks over to the stereo system. 

He only mutters, “I’m looping it again,” and Jeongguk simply nods. 

Jimin decides he might as well wait this out in a productive way, so he takes a seat on one of the chairs by the entrance and decides to watch with just as critical of an eye as Hoseok. Maybe it’s his own bias, but he finds very quickly that there’s not too much to criticize – at least without any knowledge of the concept or the choreography. Jimin has been dancing for long enough to know that Jeongguk is good, but he finds that their connection heightens everything a little bit. He feels the way Jeongguk moves as if he’s moving with him, and as he watches, Jimin just wishes they could be somehow closer. 

Jeongguk is all muscle. His style is way different than anything Jimin has ever attempted to do, but he’s somehow both sharp and fluid at once. Every move he makes is distinct, but he flows like the music itself, one step into the next. Whenever he jumps or lifts his own weight off the floor, Jimin can only watch in awe at how strong he is. He pulses like the tide, elegantly dangerous, mesmerizing – but a force so great that he could knock anyone off their feet. He’s gorgeous. 

When he finishes the second time around – or, the second time Jimin saw the routine (Jimin knows very well that Hoseok probably had him do it way more than just twice) – he flops onto his butt and looks up at Hoseok with pleading eyes. Hoseok just smiles at him, as if the sun was hiding in his mouth. Now that there’s a grin on his face, he can let out the light that always shines from within him. He offers Jeongguk a hand up, and once he’s on his feet, Hoseok gives him a firm clap on the back. Jimin has danced with Hoseok enough times that this means he’s about to give a little constructive criticism.

“I can tell you’re tired,” he says, smirking. 

Jeongguk’s face falls into a scowl. “Yah, hyung, that’s really all you have to say?” he whines. 

From aside, Jimin giggles into his hand. Hoseok snickers with him. “Nah, I’m just pulling your leg. We need to tighten up the second verse but other than that, things are looking good. You keep missing a beat around the bridge, but we can work on that tomorrow. You did great, kid. You worked hard today.” 

Jeongguk sighs in relief and heads toward the back of the studio to pick up his water and towel. Hoseok finally redirects his attention, looking toward Jimin, folded up lazily on his chair by the entrance. 

“Hi, my Jiminie,” Hoseok says brightly. 

Jimin flashes him a smile and reaches into his bag. “Wallet delivery?” Jimin says. 

Hoseok jogs over to take it from him, reassurance written all over his face. “Oh, thank God. You’re a life-saver.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jimin sees Jeongguk meandering toward them slowly as he scrolls through his phone, but Jimin redirects his attention back toward his friend. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get out of here, so Jimin assumes they’ll end up getting some time together anyway. 

“Hoseok-hyung,” Jimin murmurs, teasing laced into his voice, “I haven’t seen you in weeks.” 

He makes sure his eyes are a little accusatory but still warm, hoping he can see his hyung a bit flustered. Hoseok seems unphased; he looks over his shoulder to smirk at Jeongguk, still sweaty and toweling his hair. “Jeongguk-ah tells me you have a soulmate,” Hoseok says with a satisfied look on his face. 

Jimin squirms. He probably should’ve seen that coming. Still, he replies innocently, “Weird, Jeongguk-ah tells me that you have a soulmate.” 

Hoseok hums. He’s biting his lip though, trying to keep from laughing. He’s never been great at controlling himself around Jimin. Put the two of them in a room together and they both end up rolling on the floor with giggles, even if neither of them say anything particularly amusing. “Funny coincidences, huh?” Hoseok says. 

Jimin’s cheek twitches. He has to bite his tongue. “Hilarious,” he mutters. 

He and Hoseok managed to keep it together for all of seven seconds until they’re both cracking up. It’s clearly funny only to them, because Jeongguk just blinks at them as he peels a banana that he must’ve pulled from his bag. He doesn’t comment, but his eyes flick back and forth as he tries to figure out exactly what’s causing such an uproar. 

When they catch their breath, Hoseok states the obvious – Jimin is still grinning after their laugh attack. “Well, you look happy.” 

Jimin’s eyes flash to Jeongguk, chewing his snack and poking at the touch screen of his phone. His body reacts before his mind catches up to it, and his cheeks flush heavily as he realizes the implication. “I am,” he mumbles shyly. 

Hoseok’s lips quirk up. “Cute,” he notes. He reaches out a hand to ruffle Jimin’s hair. “Have fun, okay? I have to go.” 

Jimin pouts immediately, curling his lip into his mouth with a huff. He even crosses his arms over his chest. “What the heck, hyung! You’re leaving already?” 

“I have to go!” Hoseok replies earnestly. As honest as his eyes seem, he doesn’t look too bummed to be leaving. Jimin could think of a reason or two why. “I’m sorry, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin huffs again, uncrossing his legs dramatically to stand. “I bring you your wallet, and this is the treatment I get in return?” he whines. 

Hoseok laughs, throwing an arm over Jimin’s shoulders to give him a squeeze. Unphased, he replies, “Well, duty calls.” 

Jimin scowls. “If duty is what I think it is…” 

Hoseok winks as he crosses the room to grab his bag, leaving Jimin to stand awkwardly as Jeongguk looks at him with big eyes. It’s rare that they’re around anyone else but each other when they hang out, so Jimin struggles to come up with a way to start their conversation, especially after seeing Jeongguk dance like that. 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to. A pair of keys go flying across the room, and Jeongguk catches them lazily. “Jeongguk-ah, you can lock up, okay? I’m leaving!” 

“Date night?” Jeongguk says flatly. He blinks a few times, like he wasn’t really paying attention to Jimin and Hoseok before. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes in Jeongguk’s direction, but he’s smiling. “That’s every night. Your hyung and I are actually working on some important music tonight.” 

“I’ll believe it when I hear it,” Jeongguk quips back. “Have fun, hyung. Tell Yoongi I said hello.” 

“Bye, kiddo,” Hoseok says with a wave. “Bye, Jimin!” 

Jimin sticks his tongue out at Hoseok, but he waves back, too. When the door swings shut and the bell above it has stopped chiming, the studio is noticeably emptier, but alone, it feels like they both take up so much more space. Jeongguk doesn’t step any closer, but he flings his banana peel into the nearby garbage can and smirks down at Jimin. His signature blush is present, but Jimin could probably attribute that to the killer workout he just finished. He licks over his cupid’s bow and holds both of his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth onto his toes. 

Jimin pulls an expectant face, waiting. 

“Aren’t you gonna tell me how impressed you are with me?” Jeongguk asks. 

Jimin holds back a laugh, no matter how cute he is. “Why should I? If Hoseok is the one who hired you, that’s implied.” 

Jeongguk pouts, carding through his sweaty hair. “Damn, a guy really can’t fish for compliments around here, can he?” 

Jimin juts his chin up so they can make proper eye contact, and as he lets his eyelashes lower, he murmurs, “Is Jeonggukie looking for praise from his hyung?” 

Jeongguk’s little bout of playful confidence fizzles out a bit as he lowers his gaze and slurs his syllables. “From his soulmate, more like,” he mumbles. 

His toes point together in a way that’s so unlike a dancer that Jimin can’t believe his very same body can stand like this and dance the way he did a few minutes ago. He’s so adorable and so charming that Jimin feels himself fighting against his limbs not to do something rash like step forward to kiss him right then and there. He’s not entirely sure why he’s been forcing himself to pace their relationship, but it’s felt right to allow their dynamic to bloom slowly. He knows the physical will get in the way immediately, and when it comes to Jeongguk, there’s a lot to be distracted by. 

Still, every single time they’ve touched, Jimin has felt the way their souls connect. They’re like livewires. Like summer lightning and the thunder that comes after.

But, to say the truth, Jeongguk deserves that praise he’s looking for. 

Carefully, Jimin steps forward to close the gap between their bodies. When their toes quite nearly touch, he reaches a hand toward Jeongguk’s face and cups his cheek softly. Jeongguk’s wide, pretty eyes flutter shut and open again. They’re bright even like this, when their faces are so close that there is hardly room for shadows. Jimin lets his fingertips trace the soft skin of Jeongguk’s cheekbone, and quietly, he murmurs, “You’re an amazing dancer, Jeongguk-ah. We’d probably look good together, right?” 

Jeongguk shudders under his touch, an exhale spilling past his pretty lips. There’s a pause, and then Jeongguk’s thoughts go haywire, rushing out of his head and into the studio as if they’re meant to dance, too. As soon as Jimin starts to hear them, he assumes that Jeongguk is probably not consciously sending them Jimin’s way. Instead, they seem to be slipping out on their own accord. Jimin can relate to that – there have been plenty of times when Jeongguk has made him feel like he doesn’t have control of his thoughts, too. 

Jeongguk is thinking about how he likes when Jimin touches him. He’s wondering why Jimin doesn’t touch him more. He’s thinking about the way he’s still a little too nervous to initiate touch himself – how Jimin is still a bit intimidating to him. He’s thinking that he didn’t expect the compliment. That he wants to see Jimin dance. 

He thinks Jimin looks beautiful right now. 

He doesn’t know how he’ll say any of this out loud. Jimin wonders if he will. 

Jimin thinks about echoing some of the same things back to him, but he doesn’t have to. Jeongguk’s easy response comes a few seconds later, and it reminds Jimin that they’re in the middle of what’s supposed to be a casual banter. Frankly, Jimin is impressed with Jeongguk’s ability to keep up with it no matter how busy his thoughts are. 

“Probably?” Jeongguk counters as Jimin’s hand falls from his face. Between their bodies, their fingers brush gently. The temptation to tangle them together pulls Jimin just a step closer, even though he doesn’t dare to do it. “Isn’t that our inevitable future? You graduate soon, right? And then Hobi-hyung will hire you, too.” 

Jimin smiles down to the floor, touched that Jeongguk remembered that little detail about him. “Ah, yeah. I guess you have a point. That doesn’t mean we’ll get to dance just the two of us, though.” 

Jeongguk shrugs easily. “Who cares! Together is together. We might as well start practicing now. Let’s learn something.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen as Jeongguk jogs away, back to the other side of the room. He stares down at his own outfit – tight jeans, a nice shirt, backless loafers. Not great for dancing. “Now?” says Jimin. 

Jeongguk smiles at him, beautiful and excited. His whole body seems to invite Jimin closer. “Why not?” Jeongguk asks warmly. He narrows his eyes playfully. “Are you chicken?” 

Jimin giggles. “Chicken… to dance with you?” he clarifies, coming closer. 

Jeongguk beckons him with two fingers. “Come on, hyung. I dare you.” 

Jimin laughs again, flinging off his shoes in the back of the room and approaching Jeongguk again. Once they’re chest to chest, Jimin touches Jeongguk’s jaw lightly so that they look at each other head on. He leans just a little closer. “You don’t have to dare me, baby. I was gonna do it anyway.” 

A pretty blush appears on Jeongguk’s face, always a perfect contrast to his dark eyes and sharp jawline. He raises his eyebrows, pushing into Jimin’s hand. It takes a lot of restraint for Jimin to lower his hand instead of continuing to touch him. “Am I your baby now?” he wonders aloud, voice just a little teasing. 

Jimin licks his lips and leans a little closer. If his hand were still on Jeongguk’s skin, he’d trail it down his neck or smooth it along his shoulders. “Don’t you want to be?” he murmurs. 

Jeongguk leans a little closer. He tilts his head down, like he’s just asking for their noses to brush. Jimin, not for the first time today, thinks about kissing him. Jeongguk is too busy talking to lean in, though. “I don’t know,” Jeongguk says lightly. “I kind of want you to be my baby.” 

Jimin has to fight in his skin not to squirm. He twists one arm behind his back to pinch himself. He never knows when Jeongguk will get like this. He’s unpredictable in that sense – either on the verge of letting out his silly thoughts or waiting to pull out that clever something waiting up his sleeve. Jimin looks him up and down, taking in his young face and strong body. He doesn’t care who’s calling who baby. Either way, he’s winning. Frankly, Jimin wouldn’t mind it either way. 

“We’ll work something out,” he murmurs. “So, what should we learn?” 

Jeongguk rolls with the subject change. He presses up onto the balls of his feet to stretch his arms over his head. “Not hip-hop,” he groans. “I’m dying.” 

Jimin is reminded that Jeongguk should probably be exhausted by now, knowing Hoseok definitely worked him to the bone during their private session. Still, Jimin will never turn down the opportunity to tease. 

“Okay, no hip-hop. Should we do what I like, then? Will you be able to keep up with hyung?” Jimin turns into an over-exaggerated, messy pirouette, trying to make Jeongguk laugh. In his zeal, he almost falls over, but Jeongguk is catching him by the waist and placing him upright before it can happen. Even through his t-shirt, it’s hot where Jeongguk’s hands touch Jimin’s hips. It’s the kind of touch he knows he’ll only want to chase once he gets a little more. Absently, he wonders what it will be like when they do it deliberately, with intent, when they mean to work each other up, and eventually, when they try to get each other to fall apart. 

He hopes his thoughts aren’t transparent. He can’t imagine the way he’d blush if Jeongguk hears them. 

“Let’s just do something fun,” Jeongguk continues. “I haven’t seen you dance in this life yet. I’ve been waiting for this.” 

Jimin cocks his head, charmed. Jeongguk is always catching him by surprise, especially when he reminds Jimin that he spends time thinking about him. “Have you?” he replies. 

“Of course,” says Jeongguk casually. Jimin wonders what exactly the tipping point is for him. How he can be so confident and smooth in moments like this and a blushing mess just minutes later is totally beyond Jimin. It’s endearing, nonetheless. And he can’t say he doesn’t like Jeongguk’s confidence. “You’re beautiful, so it’s obviously gonna be amazing to see you dance.” 

Jimin wants to bite out a curse. “Aish, Jeongguk-ah,” he mutters. 

“What?” Jeongguk prods, ducking his head to follow Jimin’s lowered gaze. “You’re the one who said we should get used to flirting with each other.” 

Jimin hums, glancing up. “So that was just flirting?” he asks with a poke to Jeongguk’s chest. 

Jeongguk narrows his eyes. Clearly, he’s unimpressed. Even more so, he wants to keep up their little game of back and forth. “Can I not flirt and mean it, too? Do you need me to call you beautiful again?” 

Seeing Jeongguk so emboldened gets Jimin flustered all over again, so he can’t help but break their eye contact again. Jimin likes this side of him, and it makes him want Jeongguk’s touch again. He liked the feeling of his hands on his waist, no matter how fleeting. But his desire does him no favors in knowing how to ask for it, and no matter how badly he’s starting to crave it, he still knows it’s not a good idea. 

He’s sure that one touch will be all it takes – and there’s so much he wants to be sure of, to ask, and to know before then. 

“Just because I said we need to get used to it doesn’t mean I am used to it,” Jimin mumbles shyly. 

There’s a pause, and Jimin finds Jeongguk pulling on his bottom lip with his teeth. In a low, pressing voice, Jeongguk says, “Hyung, can I tell you a secret?” 

The way he segways into the subject change is so cute that it makes Jimin giggle. Jeongguk is waiting patiently with his big eyes, waiting for Jimin’s response. The mystery of how he can be both so alluring and so endearing at once persists. 

“Sure, Jeongguk.”

Jimin nearly recoils when Jeongguk starts to lean in. Jeongguk’s gaze focuses on his lips, and Jimin swears that Jeongguk is going to kiss him. But his eyes divert not a moment later, and instead of bringing their mouths together like Jimin thought – maybe even hoped – Jeongguk speaks against the shell of Jimin’s ear. He whispers like it’s a secret, even though his face tends to give him away. 

“Every time I fluster you, it feels like a tiny victory. You’re so cute when you blush.” 

Jimin erupts into violent shivers and an even hotter blush when he feels Jeongguk’s breath on his ear. He scowls even though Jeongguk is teasing, and he pushes him away with two flat hands on his big chest. Of course, he’s only making things worse for himself, because this is definitely the kind of flustering that Jeongguk was referring to. 

“Yah, Jeon Jeongguk!” he whines. “You brat, I hate you.” 

Jeongguk hardly stumbles from Jimin’s push, and when Jimin looks up, Jeongguk is wearing a big, satisfied smile. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs. 

Jimin bites his lip. It hardly feels strange to admit it anymore. “No, I don’t,” he replies.

Jeongguk spins on a dime. “So, let’s dance?” he asks happily. “What’s taking you so long?” 

He seems to have come back to life in full force. It’s as if that banana he ate has given him a massive burst of energy, and now he’s practically bouncing up and down, impatience written into his movements. He’s clearly pleased with himself. Jimin can’t decide if the cocikiness suits him or not, but at the very least, Jimin likes to know that he is the thing that’s making Jeongguk so happy.

“Y’know, baby,” starts Jimin slowly, eyeing him carefully. “Payback is a bitch. Keep your eyes peeled.” 

Jeongguk cocks his head, brow furrowed. “Payback for… making you blush?”

Jimin drops to the floor before replying, trying not to groan when he folds his chest over his legs in the confines of his tight jeans. He talks into the fabric covering his thighs, forehead pushing against his knees. “What else would it be for?” Jimin replies. “Watch your back, handsome.” 

As Jimin sits up, Jeongguk takes a fighting stance. He looks up toward the ceiling, stating dramatically, “Is this… war?” 

Jimin peers up at him through his messy hair, donning a smirk. “It’s what we’re good at, right?” 

“Oh, game on, Jiminie-hyung.” He sighs. “If only I had my sword.”  

Jimin laughs, continuing to stretch as he reaches each arm behind his head and touches between his shoulder blades. “Are you trying to battle to the death?” he asks. 

Jeongguk makes a scandalized face. “Of course not. I’m trying to make you see how good my arms look when I fight so that you finally fall for me.” 

Standing, Jimin says, “I won’t say that I’m not interested in your arms, but you don’t really have to worry about that last part.” 

Jeongguk looks at Jimin with a blank expression. He stands upright from his warrior squat and blinks a few times. “What?” 

“You heard me,” Jimin sings. 

“Hyung, wait– you–” 

Jimin bounces on the balls of his bare feet. “I thought we were dancing?” 

“But–” Jeongguk croaks. “You… and me? It’s working? You’re falling–” 

Jimin has to try not to coo or giggle at him, he’s so cute. “Is there a choreo you wanna try?” Jimin asks, pulling out his phone to scroll through his music library. 

Jeongguk huffs and raises his hands in surrender. “You know what, hyung?” he announces. “Fine. Payback is a bitch.” 

Jimin lifts his eyes to scan over his pink face. “Cute,” Jimin says. 

And Jeongguk’s face grows warm all over again. 

✧

mood: loving you is so easy – honne

“Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin sighs dreamily after a long lull in conversation, “tell me what you know about love.” 

Namjoon looks up from where he was staring into the dredges of his coffee cup, a rascally little smile pulling at his lips. The sunlight is pouring into the coffee shop where they sit, and even though it’s cool inside, it’s still making Jimin’s tall glass filled with ice sweat and glisten. Water pools onto the table, and Namjoon drags his finger through it. 

“Never enough, that’s for sure,” Namjoon replies. 

Jimin huffs. “Hyung, I’m serious,” he whines. 

Namjoon just keeps smiling at him, unphased by both Jimin’s yowling and any cuteness he tries to push. 

“Shouldn’t you be telling me yourself?” says Namjoon arily. 

“I’m not in love,” Jimin replies quickly. He takes a long drag of his iced coffee. It tastes sweet, and it reminds him of the day he and Jeongguk first sat in the park together. He lets that fond memory loose, and Jeongguk flings a thought right back to him, telling Jimin, I’m jealous. Get me a coffee, too. 

Jimin smiles involuntarily. 

Of course, Namjoon doesn’t miss it. 

“But you’re on your way, no?” Namjoon intones knowingly. 

Jimin fiddles with his straw. He had filled Namjoon in on his situation with Jeongguk essentially as soon as he could, after the night they bumped into each other at the arcade. Namjoon hadn’t reacted too strongly, but he had given Jimin a warm smile and murmured, “Ah, that’s why you were asking me about soulmates that one time. It all makes sense now. I never would’ve guessed, though.” He’d asked a few more questions but mostly just let Jimin talk, and that was that. Now they only talk about Jeongguk when Jimin brings him up. 

“I guess,” Jimin admits. “I could be. That’s why I’m asking.” 

Namjoon hums thoughtfully. “I think that’s something you figure out for yourself.” 

Jimin’s lip curls downward and he hides it by taking another sip of his coffee. He knows he has no reason to lie to Namjoon, but even after these weeks with Jeongguk and all of the support he’s gotten from his friends, there are still pieces of him that get unsettled every now and then. “I’m a little scared of it,” he says softly. 

Namjoon nods in understanding. He sits back in his chair. “That’s normal though. Being scared of the unknown is normal, right? It’s the most common type of fear.” 

Jimin, always tempted to be a little more petulant when he’s around his hyung, pouts again. “I thought that was heights. Or public speaking,” he mumbles. 

Namjoon only seems amused instead of frustrated, which Jimin is grateful for. He looks at Jimin warmly. “You know what I mean, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin sighs and resigns his innocent act. “Yeah, I do,” he admits. He stirs his coffee around with the straw. “But I don’t know if I can say we’re in love, at least not in the conventional sense. We hardly touch. We just talk.” 

Namjoon thinks on it. He stares down at his mug as if he’s offended that it’s empty. “Your connection goes deeper than that though,” he points out. As soon as he says it, it feels important. “I imagine finding love with a soulmate is different than finding love with anyone else. There’s probably a lot you don’t have to say, or know, or figure out. A lot of it must be unspoken, if you let it be.” 

Jimin pushes his blonde bangs back with a click of his tongue. “But that’s the thing! I want to figure it out! I want to know about all of those things. I can’t just leave things unspoken.” 

Namjoon laughs fondly. Sometimes he gets like this, when it seems like the secrets of the universe are hidden behind his eyes and the only way they’ll ever be uncovered is if he so chooses to speak them from his tongue. He drums his fingers on the table and softens his voice. “Doesn’t that say it all, then? Wanting to know the things you don’t have to know is definitely a sign of love to me. Clearly you care.”

Jimin mulls his words over carefully. After a long, probably overly-dramatic pause, he mutters, “Ah. Well, fuck.”

Namjoon laughs again, warm and kind as always. “Just go for it, Jimin-ah. Ask all your questions, listen to him, listen to your emotions. It’s okay. You’re having fun, aren’t you?” 

Jimin swallows. The taste of sweet coffee fills his mouth. “Yeah, I am,” he replies. “We laugh a lot. I actually think you would really like him.” 

Jeongguk and Namjoon are, of course, different in so many ways, but they’re both good listeners. They go quiet at the right times in a conversation. They leave room for Jimin to think. They tease him. They’re deep, with big hearts. They mimic each other in a lot of senses, and Jimin briefly thinks of the ways in which he could bring them together one day. 

“I do like him,” Namjoon says. 

Jimin’s thoughts stop in their tracks. “What?” 

Namjoon grins. “I met Seokjin-hyung for drinks the other day, and he brought your Jeongguk along after their shifts at the arcade ended at the same time. He’s a good kid, Jimin. He likes you.” He chuckles. “And not just because you’re soulmates. Actually, he didn’t even mention that you were soulmates – if we were strangers, I would have never known. He just kept talking about his Jimin-hyung.” 

Jimin flushes and squishes his own hot cheeks, even more thankful than before for the cold coffee. “Fuck, okay,” he says on an exhale. 

“Trust him, hm?” Namjoon says. “And trust Fate. I actually think she did a pretty bang up job with you two.”

Jimin stares out the window. He gets an image of Jeongguk laying face up on the studio floor, panting and grinning sillily. He’s excited to show Jimin what he’s been working on. There’s a stupid temptation in Jimin’s head to just get up right then and there and cross the city to go see Jeongguk rehearse. He won’t, naturally. But the thought says enough. 

“Yeah,” Jimin murmurs. “Me, too.” 

JEONGGUK 

Jimin, somehow, still glows in the flat glaring light of streetlamps. His lips are puffy and red from the spiciness of his noodles, and he stretches out on the steps where they sit, patting his belly. He hasn’t said anything for a while, but Jeongguk is having trouble taking his eyes off of him. Everything is drawing him to Jimin – the way his unparted hair falls over his forehead, how his eyes follow the cars crossing the bridge nearby, his habit of always twisting the rings on his fingers. They’re sitting just close enough that their knees brush, and after Jimin tucks himself neat and small again, he lets his head rest on Jeongguk’s shoulder. 

The silence between them is peaceful, even though around them isn’t really silent at all. The cicadas are roaring in the trees, boosted by the crickets flirting with each other between leaves of grass. Groups of boys hoot and holler on their bikes and skateboards. The rush of cars is loud even from here, and the sound of music playing from someone’s cell phone a few steps over is even louder. Jeongguk is calm nonetheless. As someone who’s often sensitive to sight, sound, and smell, he doesn’t feel like anything could break his peace. 

He likes the feeling of Jimin’s weight against him. 

Eventually, Jimin sits up, and Jeongguk can tell just from the way his aura shifts that he has something to ask. He hears one of Jimin’s heavy breaths before he’s turning to look at Jeongguk. “I want you to meet Taehyung,” says Jimin quietly. 

“Your boyfriend?” Jeongguk teases. He elongates his body, placing his hands on the step behind him and putting his weight onto his arms. 

Jimin’s gaze wanders over him carefully, but he still rolls his eyes. He pinches Jeongguk’s thigh. “You’re just mad that you’re not my boyfriend.” 

“I will be!” Jeongguk replies, wide-eyed. He sits up and puffs his chest, wanting to make Jimin laugh. “One day! Probably!” 

Jimin gives him a dry look that lasts all of two seconds, but Jeongguk still manages to get sheepish in the time. Jeongguk curls into himself, waits a beat, and then Jimin is bursting into his laughter that always chimes like bells. He falls forward into his own lap, and his forehead lolls against Jeongguk’s thigh. Jeongguk can only smile down at him, the same way he does whenever Jimin teases him. 

They’re constantly tugging on each other, but only because the added slack makes the leeway feel even better once they let go. 

Jimin sits up with an easy grin dancing over his features, and he slides a hand onto Jeongguk’s thigh, curling into the rough fabric of his cargo pants. Jeongguk does everything he can not to tense, but he can’t help it when Jimin leans over him and brushes a soft, warm kiss to the high point of his cheek. 

Jimin draws away at once, moving his hand back into his own lap and his lips away from Jeongguk’s skin, but still Jeongguk blushes. Every time they touch, Jeongguk feels overwhelmed. It never lasts long enough for him to get used to it. And no touch with Jimin has ever felt like one he’s experienced before. 

“Whoa,” he says dumbly. 

Jimin blinks. “What?”

Jeongguk fiddles with his fingers in his lap, wondering if Jimin, in the future, will be the type of person to try to quell his restlessness. He wonders if Jimin will place a hand on his knee when his leg shakes, will twine their fingers when Jeongguk needs something to hold, will wrap around his waist when they’re in a place with too big a crowd. For now, Jeongguk pushes through his nerves, twisting his metal bracelet around his wrist. 

“Just– touching you. It’s a lot,” he mumbles awkwardly. He hopes Jimin understands, because he knows he’s not doing a very good job of explaining himself. In the back of his mind, he assumes that Jimin experiences the same kinds of feelings in his own skin. Maybe it’s Fate telling him that these kinds of sensation can’t possibly go one way; it would be like asking the two of them to try to redirect lightning.  

Jimin shifts a little bit next to him, chewing on his pretty, pillowy lip. His fingers play with the holes in his jeans. “Yeah um, I kind of hold back with you. I’m usually very… tactile.” 

Jeongguk plays up his reaction, acting more offended than he is. He knows that Jimin probably has a reason, and he doesn’t feel like he has any right to push Jimin to act a particular way – especially when it comes to physical touch. After all they’ve been through, he knows that certain things are going to come more easily than others, and they’ve already come so far. 

“What?” he gasps, exaggerating his hurt. “You’re holding out on me?” 

Jimin visibly squirms under the pressure, but it’s more playful than anything. He wears an overstated pout, pushing out that bottom lip. Jeongguk keeps tearing his gaze away from his mouth. “I don’t know!” Jimin whines. “I get nervous.” 

Jeongguk sighs dramatically, leaning back to stare up at the few stars in Seoul’s night sky. “Ah,” he laments, “the unbreakable Park Jimin-ssi gets nervous too?” 

He rolls his head around to look at Jimin once more, smiling. Jimin swats his shoulder. “Shut up, you know I do,” he whines. He peers into Jeongguk’s eyes, and Jeongguk feels like he’s falling into Jimin. He feels like he’s just leapt from the clouds and is heading back down to earth with a rush. He can’t imagine looking away. If Jimin is the ground, he’d gladly kiss it. “Stop thinking about kissing me!” 

“What?” Jeongguk blurts, lifting his eyes with burning cheeks. “You can hear my thoughts right now?” 

Jimin grins, shaking his head. He grabs onto Jeongguk’s thigh again and shakes it around. “No, I can see the look on your face, silly,” he laughs. 

Jeongguk covers his face with his hands, embarrassed at his lack of control. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He peeks out between his fingers. “I just think about it a lot.” 

Cute, Jimin is thinking. Cute. 

“And that’s fine,” says Jimin softly, squeezing Jeongguk’s thigh. “Just, not yet. But I do want to touch you. I think about it, too.” 

Jeongguk blinks a few times, fixated on the place where Jimin’s small, warm hand touches his leg. “You do?” 

Jimin gives him a shy smile, dragging his hand down Jeongguk’s leg. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, fitting his hand over Jeongguk’s knee. 

He seems to glow even more when they touch like this, even if it’s the smallest place where their bodies meet. His skin shimmers with what looks like moonlight, and even if it is just the streetlamp above them, Jeongguk would imagine that the moon would want to kiss Jimin, too. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk exhales. 

Jimin presses his fingertips into Jeongguk’s knee and looks at him expectantly. “So, will you come for dinner soon? To meet Taehyung properly?” 

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk says sarcastically, “he was kind of scary when I saw him at the arcade that night.” 

Jimin laughs brightly. “It’s funny, because it’s probably the opposite of what you’re thinking. He’s the one who always pushes me to go to you and open up to you.” 

He smiles prettily, warm at the thought of his friend. Jeongguk doesn’t feel any jealousy. There’s only happiness when he sees Jimin like this. They haven’t talked about it out loud, but at night, when they’re separate and vulnerable, they talk about their past lives and how many of them were spent either alone or in fear of being alone. They don’t know for certain, of course, but part of Jeongguk feels like they’ll both get to keep their friends this time around. If someone like Taehyung can make Jimin smile like that, Jeongguk would never want them to be apart. 

“I actually think you guys will get along really well,” Jimin adds timidly. 

“Can I ask why you want me to meet him so badly?” Jeongguk murmurs. 

Jimin looks down, but his hand tightens on Jeongguk’s knee. “Well, isn’t it only natural to want the most important people in your life to meet?” 

“Oh,” Jeongguk blurts with a blush. He talks to his knees, to Jimin’s touch. “Um, yeah. I guess it is.”

“So you’ll come?” Jimin asks. He lifts Jeongguk’s chin with his free hand and caresses the side of his face for a moment. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk replies. “Yes, of course.” 

They lapse back into easy silence, but it feels even quieter than before, though not because any of the noise has ceased. Instead, Jeongguk’s mind is taken up by other things, like Jimin’s head falling back onto his shoulder and the soft patterns his hand draws along Jeongguk’s knee and on the inside of his lower thigh. Both their breathing and thoughts fall steady, but Jeongguk’s mind eventually gets away from him. With the feeling of Jimin's hand on him so comforting and easy, questions start to nag at him. 

mood: colors of you – 92914 

“Hey, hyung?” he murmurs. “Can I ask why?”

Jimin shifts against him but he doesn’t lift his head. Quietly, he replies, “Why what? I thought I just answered why I want you to come.” 

Jeongguk makes fun of himself inside his head, realizing he totally forgot context. As connected as they are, it’s not infallible. He can’t assume Jimin will always know what he’s thinking about. 

“Sorry, I mean, can I ask why you don’t wanna touch me yet? More than this anyway.” 

“Ah, don’t make fun of me,” Jimin mumbles, his lips pressing onto Jeongguk’s shoulder. He nearly hides in Jeongguk’s neck. Jeongguk wants to pull him closer. 

“Jimin-hyung…” Jeongguk chides gently. 

Jimin sighs and sits up. “I know, I know. You won’t. I think, at first, it was that I wanted to get to know you fully, y’know? We’re already getting there. We are there. I like who I see – I like you –  and I think you like me, too. I guess so far, it’s been really good to do it slow. I know that might make me sound old fashioned, but after everything we went through together, I just wanted to spend time together and get to know Jeongguk, the person, not Jeongguk, my soulmate.” He looks at Jeongguk with a little smile. “And, to be honest with you, both because of our soulmate connection and, because, well– you look like that, I’m not worried about our physical connection, if you know what I mean.”

His gaze becomes a little heavier before he continues, and Jeongguk feels heat creep up the collar of his shirt. “I know it’ll feel good when I touch you. I think my main concern at this point is that I’m a little worried that I won’t be able to stop. So I just want a little bit longer like this, before I get… distracted.” 

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows, leaning toward Jimin. “So I’m irresistible, is what you’re saying.” 

Jimin shoves him, but he’s smiling. “Jeongguk-ah, I’m serious!” 

Jeongguk grabs his hand and lays it back over his knee, but he doesn’t pull away. He leaves their hands stacked, his palm covering Jimin’s knuckles. “I’m kidding, hyung,” he says in a soft voice. “I’m glad we took it slow, too. I really like getting to know you like this. I like you.” He squeezes Jimin’s hand. “And I hear all of your worries, but I promise that whatever physical connection happens betweens us isn’t going to take away from how I feel about you or the things I want to learn about you. I want you, and I want to be close to you, and I want to experience every ounce of what our soulmate bond has to offer – but at whatever pace feels right, okay?”

Beneath his palm, Jimin flips his hand and tangles their fingers. Lightning pulses up Jeongguk’s arm. “Okay– yeah.” He licks his lips nervously. “Thank you, Jeongguk-ah. You always listen to me.” 

“I know it didn’t seem like that at first,” Jeongguk whispers, “but that’s what I’m here for, okay? Being close like this,” he mumbles, squeezing Jimin’s hand, “is just as good. And it’s not going to stop as soon as something else starts.” 

Jimin smiles once more. Another kiss is brushed to Jeongguk’s cheek, and again, closer to the corner of his mouth. 

✧

Jeongguk takes another deep breath. Even though he knows he looks good, he’s fiddled with the tuck of his shirt at least twenty times since he left his own apartment. He’d taken extra care to dress nicely tonight, a little unsure of what to expect for their evening and wanting to impress both Jimin and his roommate. He’s put on jeans for once, light wash and tight, and belted into his waistband he’s traded a t-shirt for a button down, undone at the collar to show off some of his chest and collarbones. He’s even parted his hair, the mole on his forehead in plain sight. While he knows he’s probably worrying for nothing, he still hasn’t been to Jimin’s apartment, and something about meeting Taehyung feels very important. He squares his shoulders and more securely tucks the bottle of wine under his arm, and then he knocks timidly on the front door. 

Hoping that Taehyung isn’t the one to answer the door, Jeongguk shifts awkwardly as he hears a small scuffle on the other side of the wood. When he focuses hard enough, he can tell the sound is coming from Jimin shoving Taehyung back onto the couch so that he can be the one to greet Jeongguk. Jeongguk is about to send a thought back to him, but he doesn’t get a chance. The door is swinging open a second later, and in its threshold is Jimin, barefoot and looking small. He smiles up at Jeongguk between loose waves of blonde hair, swimming in a big shirt that’s tucked into his dark pants and billows out around his waist. 

Jeongguk’s mouth goes dry immediately purely from how enraptured he is, and he moves his weight from one foot to another, mind blank with what to do next. Jimin steps aside, but when Jeongguk still doesn’t come in, he smiles fondly at him and circles his small fingers around Jeongguk’s wrist. He pulls Jeongguk forward, and once Jeongguk is finally on the other side of the door, Jimin tucks into his side to press a kiss to his cheek before leading him into the apartment. 

The space seems to open up around Jeongguk, the pale, cream walls inviting him in. It doesn’t take very long for Jeongguk’s eyes to fixate on Taehyung, smiling prettily from his place on the grey couch. Jeongguk nearly does a double take because of how stunning he is, and it takes him a moment to remember how to return a smile. He’d been slightly too focused on Jimin the night that they ran into each other in the arcade to notice how striking Taehyung is, let alone think of him as anything but someone in his way. It’s only after he stares for an embarrassingly long time that he remembers to take in how nice Jimin’s apartment is, with its understated colors and array of hung art. Trinkets and chatchkes litter shelves and tables to make it feel like home.  

He suddenly registers the weight of Jimin’s gaze on him, so he lifts a hand to greet Taehyung, saying, “Hi, I’m Jeongguk. Uh, I brought wine.” 

Taehyung grins, and his whole face lights up. Somehow, he’s even prettier with a smile, though Jeongguk can’t help but feel intimidated when his eyebrows lift up. “Is there someone you’re trying to impress?” Taehyung asks. 

Jeongguk feels embarrassment rising up in his face even though he gets the sense that Taehyung is just mucking around, so he stammers, “Uh.” 

Taehyung continues, lackadaisical, crossing his legs and sighing, “Well, I hope it’s Jimin, but you’re doing pretty well at impressing me so far.”

Jeongguk is not sure if he’s supposed to feel more embarrassed or if he should be laughing along. “Do you like wine?” he asks, as if that’ll somehow connect the dots. 

Jimin huffs next to him, his still holding onto Jeongguk’s wrist with a warm hand. “God, Taehyung, you could at least introduce yourself!” 

Taehyung pouts. “He knows who I am!” 

It’s a little awkward to watch his soulmate and his soulmate’s best friend bicker with one another, but Jeongguk can’t help but laugh at their dynamic. Jimin shoots him a glare that’s not scary at all, elbowing Jeongguk in the side as they go to sit on the couch. 

“What are you laughing at?” he says, pouting. 

Jeongguk shrugs. “You guys are funny.” 

“See,” says Taehyung demonstratively, “he already thinks I’m hilarious.” 

“Hilarious might be a stretch,” Jimin mutters darkly under his breath. 

Taehyung places a soothing hand on Jimin’s knee and pats gently. “Give it time, Jimin-ah, give it time.” 

Jeongguk looks back and forth at the two of them, trying to hold back his own snicker. Jimin talks about Taehyung often, probably more often than he realizes, so it’s nice to see what the two of them are really like. For as highly as they hold each other, he already likes the energy between them – humorous and light, clearly full of love but not afraid to hand it to each other tough. He already feels far less nervous than he did when he walked through the door now that he’s seen a bit of the way they squabble. He’s certainly far more amused than he was while he was fiddling with his button down in the hallway. 

“So,” he drawls. “Did you guys cook?”

Like clockwork, there’s a loud knock on the door.

Jimin snorts as Taehyung stands to answer it, prepared to receive the take out from the person delivering it. “Oh, hell no,” Taehyung replies. “We’re miserable.” 

Jeongguk fiddles with his hands even though he can feel Jimin’s eyes on them. “Maybe I can make you guys dinner one day.” 

Taehyung stops in his tracks to turn around. “You can cook?” he blurts. “Jimin-ah, he can cook? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Ah, I’m not great, but I can–” 

He cuts himself off when there’s another, louder knock on the door; Taehyung dashes across the small living room to answer it faster. As Taehyung talks to the deliverer, Jimin seems to let out some tension he was holding in his body. He becomes smaller and more relaxed against Jeongguk’s side, and after a moment of his warm, pretty eyes dancing along Jeongguk’s profile, he leans up to press another kiss to Jeongguk’s cheek. 

“Thanks for coming, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin murmurs softly. He puts his hand on Jeongguk’s thigh to squeeze once, and butterflies fly up through Jeongguk’s rib cage. It’s always so warm where Jimin touches him. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jeongguk mumbles. 

Jimin smiles at him, kind, gentle, looking like so much more than a friend and a thousand years away from an enemy. “Still. You even dressed up and brought wine.”

Jeongguk blushes. “Well– I thought it would be nice.” 

“It is nice,” Jimin assures. He reaches for the bottle of wine that Jeongguk had set down when they sat on the couch. “You’re adorable. Let me open it, so we can drink it with dinner. After we eat, I’ll show you around, okay?” 

“Sure,” Jeongguk says on an exhale. Jimin disappears into the kitchen to get a bottle opener, and Jeongguk is left with a tight chest and his rapidly beating heart trying to loosen it. 

Taehyung returns shortly after, plopping the takeout bags unceremoniously onto the table and sitting back down on the couch. “So, Jeongguk-ssi,” Taehyung begins in a low voice, “what are your intentions with my Jiminie?” 

“Uhh–” Jeongguk stutters. He knows Taehyung is just messing around, he can tell that much from the way he and Jimin tease each other, but Jeongguk already feels like that’s a loaded question. 

Jimin returns at just the right time, somehow managing to hold three wine glasses and a corkscrew between his two small hands. He rolls his eyes as he strolls back in, grumbling, “What, are you my dad?”  

“No,” replies Taehyung, “I’m your darling best friend.” 

Jeongguk figures he ought to get comfortable with this dynamic, so he does his best to answer the question both truthfully and while having a little bit of fun. “My intentions are… to make him happy,” he begins, “and to, uhh… school him in video games.” 

Jimin pouts viciously as Taehyung helps him set down the glasses, and as he starts to work open the bottle of wine, he mumbles, “Hey, I win sometimes.” 

“He’s horrible, isn’t he?” Taehyung laughs.

Jimin’s cuteness nearly wins Jeongguk over, but having fun with Taehyung is also tempting – and isn’t that what Jimin wants? 

“Absolute trash, to be honest,” Jeongguk agrees. Jimin opens the wine with a loud pop, but he’s scowling at Jeongguk. Carefully, Jeongguk grins at him and amends, “But he pouts when he loses, and it’s really cute.” 

Taehyung seems to consider it, but he jokes, “I’d say wait until you see what he looks like when he wins, but you will literally never see that.” 

And Jeongguk can’t help the way he cracks up. He’s sure Jimin would have smacked him if they were still sitting next to each other. As Jimin pours the wine, he looks at both Taehyung and Jeongguk with daggers in his eyes, and he sticks his tongue out at both of them as he hands them their glasses. 

“Yah, I didn’t arrange for you two to have dinner together just so you can have a Bully Jimin Session.”

“You’re right, we should probably be multitasking. Do you want me to get plates, or should we just eat straight from the containers?” 

“We can at least get plates if we’re eating on the couch,” Jimin says, sitting next to Jeongguk again and resting his head on his shoulder. 

Jeongguk looks down at his tight pants. “If I knew we were just eating on the couch, I would never put on jeans.” 

“I like the jeans,” Jimin says pointedly, placing his hand on Jeongguk’s thigh and tracing upward. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Oh. Looks like I’m never taking off these jeans then. The jeans stay on forever.” 

Taehyung stands to grab plates, giggling all the while. “Holy shit, Jimin-ah, he’s adorable.” 

“It makes sense we’re meant to be then, huh?” Jimin says. He plasters an exaggeratedly dazzling smile on his face, and Taehyung gags as he heads to the kitchen. Jeongguk’s blush stays firmly in place, but when Jimin turns to him and smiles for real, softly, Jeongguk has never wanted to kiss him more than this moment. 

Dinner goes better than Jeongguk could have ever anticipated. Wherever Taehyung and Jimin ordered from has delicious food, and watching the way they bicker over dumplings is enough to have him giggling into the back of his hand. Taehyung puts on old, bluesy American music, and he croons along with his chopsticks as a microphone – Jimin watches him with stars in his eyes. Although Jeongguk had fully expected Taehyung to be a nice guy based on everything Jimin has told him and how highly he speaks of him, by the time his belly is getting full, Jeongguk actually becomes less concerned with only making a good first impression, and a bit more worried about making a lasting one. He likes Taehyung instantly, and not to mention his already incredibly small circle of friends in Seoul, he finds himself immediately wanting the two of them to spend more time together in the future. 

Jeongguk likes the music Taehyung plays just fine, but the sweetest sounds come from Jimin next to him, who apparently finds Jeongguk and Taehyung’s newfound dynamic absolutely hysterical. Their jokes are definitely ridiculous, but they have the same kind of silly and mischievous humor that makes Jimin happy. Jeongguk loves seeing him like this, and when he finds something really funny, he falls over Jeongguk’s lap as he laughs. He presses his face into Jeongguk’s shoulder, and after he has a little more wine, into the warm skin of Jeongguk’s neck. 

After their food is long abandoned and the three of them are just sitting and talking, red-cheeked from the wine and their laughter, Jeongguk, unthinkingly, decides to make another joke about using his sword to woo Jimin. 

“I don’t know why I like either of you,” Jimin wheezes, contradicting himself. “All of your jokes are so dumb .” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes fondly. “‘Your jokes are so dumb,’ he says through hysterical laughter.” 

“Frankly,” Jeongguk states, “you’re already inviting me over to have dinner and meet your best friend, and I haven’t even shown you my sword. You can’t possibly hate me. I must be doing something else right.” 

Jimin titters more at another silly joke, slapping Jeongguk’s thigh playfully, but Taehyung makes a mildly disgusted face at Jeongguk, clearly alarmed by Jeongguk’s poorly-timed use of the word sword. 

“Is that the innuendo I think it is?” he asks. 

Jeongguk blushes and splutters no, explaining quickly that his sword is definitely not code for his dick and is, rather, what had started an extremely far removed inside joke about wanting to kill each other in their past lives but is now more of an abstract reference to anime characters looking sexy with a sword. Taehyung, for whatever reason, finds this not only extremely amusing but also extremely exciting, and it somehow launches them into a twenty minute debate in which they attempt to choose the best sword in all of Inuyasha. 

“How can you not like the Bakusaiga? It’s literally a piece of Sesshomaru, and Sesshomaru is sexy. ”

Taehyung waves a hand around. “Sesshomaru is fine, but that doesn’t mean that his sword is cooler than Tessaiga. And if you think Sesshomaru is sexy, wait until you see Jimin with silver hair. It’s close enough, and definitely way more sexy.” 

“Close enough?” Jimin repeats, aghast. 

The conversation transitions out again not too long after, and it’s only once they’ve effectively lost track of time again that Jeongguk notices Taehyung checking his phone more often than he was at the beginning of the meal. Eventually he stands, pouring the last of his wine into his mouth and heading to the closet to pull out a long, flowing summer coat. He dons it and plucks his keys from the rack, circling the ring around his finger rapidly. 

He idles by the door before smiling warmly. “Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung starts, “please excuse my rudeness. It was truly a pleasure to meet you properly instead of at an arcade when you looked very scary, but it seems I have an impromptu late night date to attend to.” 

“Yah, you’re leaving?” Jimin groans, looking a little irritated but not surprised. 

Taehyung brushes him off easily; Jeongguk assumes this is typical for them. “I’m leaving you with your boyfriend, quit complaining.” 

Jeongguk blushes at his word choice, but Jimin doesn’t pay it any mind. 

“And who are you going to see that’s more fun than us?” Jimin demands to know. 

Taehyung smiles prettily. Whoever he’s going to see, Jeongguk assumes it’s someone special. “Namjoon-hyung and Seokjin-hyung are having a drink by the arcade, and they said they missed me.” 

“Ahh,” Jimin says. His face smooths out into something like understanding, and it helps Jeongguk realize exactly what’s going on here. 

A moment longer and he realizes that the Seokjin-hyung Taehyung is referring to must be his Seokjin-hyung, so he asks, “Are you the boy Seokjin-hyung is always going to meet after work when he decides to ditch me?” 

Taehyung barks a lugh. “Probably. If it’s not me, it’s Namjoonie.” 

“So you know Namjoon, too, Taehyung-ssi?” Jeongguk finally asks, connecting the dots. 

Jimin turns to him and smiles. “I’ll introduce you to him next, Gguk-ah. I know you already met, but I want to introduce you to get to know each other properly.” 

“Oh,” says Jeongguk. “So he’s important to you.” 

Jimin nods. “Very.” 

From the doorway, Taehyung clicks his tongue happily. “Ooh, but you were introduced to me first, which means I’m the most important.” 

Jimin gives him a flat look, looking at Taehyung’s long coat and shoed feet up and down. “I thought you were leaving?” he singsongs, sounding mean spirited but meaning it as a joke. 

Taehyung makes a face at Jimin but relaxes it when he looks at Jeongguk. “Bye, Jeongguk-ah,” he murmurs. “Take care of my Jimin, okay? I’m happy he has you.” 

Taehyung’s words take Jeongguk off guard, but they leave him with a warm feeling in his belly. “Oh– oh, yeah. I will. Thank you.” 

Taehyung waves him off. “Don’t thank me. Let’s hang out soon, yeah? Can you get me free snacks at the arcade?” 

Jeongguk blinks a few times. “But, wait– I mean, yes, definitely, but don’t you have Seokjin-hyung to do that?” 

Taehyung just laughs in lieu of an answer and tucks his wallet and keys into his pocket. “I’ll text you. Bye, Jimin-ah. Behave,” he trills. 

Jimin shoos him away dramatically despite his smile, and when the door closes, the same feeling that always comes when the two of them are alone washes over them all over again. They suddenly take up more space, like the couch was meant for just the two of them all along. They blink at each other, and while they’re surrounded by their nearly empty wine glasses and a plethora of take out boxes, the rest of the room disappears. 

mood: past lives – børns 

Jeongguk stares blatantly, taking in Jimin’s flushed cheeks and small, soft features. His eyes are bright and cheerful after a night with his friends, and his plush, pillowy lips are stained red with wine. Feeling a little bold, Jeongguk murmurs, “You didn’t correct him.” 

Jimin replies as if coming out of a daze, his eyes coming back into focus with a lazy smile. “Hmm?” 

Jeongguk swallows, some of the confidence from a second ago slipping away. He looks at Jimin a little closer, who looks so attentive and warm, and he decides he has nothing to lose. Jimin doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere, no matter what Jeongguk says to him. “When he called me your boyfriend, you didn’t correct him.” 

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. His fingers wiggle in his lap, and for a second, Jeongguk thinks he’s going to cast his gaze away. Instead, he simply makes light of it. “That? Taehyung teases me about that all the time. I never correct him,” he replies easily. 

Jeongguk could easily take this as a point of concern, but if there’s anything he’s learned since getting to know Jimin is that there’s hardly ever a reason to. Instead, he brushes his thumb along the back of one of Jimin’s hands and asks casually, “And when were you gonna tell me about that?” 

Jimin’s cheeks brighten. Impishly, he bites his pretty bottom lip. He looks up at Jeongguk through his lashes. “Well, maybe I was waiting for you to ask.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen in shock at the implication. He’s not sure why, but he hadn’t put it together that that’s something Jimin might want. “Oh, are you sure?” he blurts. 

Jimin’s endearment paints itself all over his face. He giggles. “Am I sure ? Is that how you’re asking me out?” 

Jeongguk grows a little sheepish, and he starts talking a little too fast, hands moving about. “What if I asked you, and you weren’t sure, and then you said no! That would be embarrassing…” 

Jimin laughs again. He cocks his head, those gorgeous, telling eyes turning into pretty moons as he smiles in Jeongguk’s direction. Jeongguk feels all of Jimin’s emotions – his amusement, his joy, his hint of exasperation, his adoration – just from Jimin looking at him. “You know what, Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin says plainly. “I really love you.” 

Jeongguk knows he must surely look as shocked as he feels when he repeats, “Oh my God, are you sure?” 

Jimin only manages to quell his laughter once he lifts a hand up to Jeongguk’s cheek. His small, warm palm fits against Jeongguk’s face, tracing the edge of his jaw along to the sharpness of his cheek bone. He reaches his other hand onto Jeongguk’s thigh to brace himself, leaning over Jeongguk’s body on the couch. He looks at Jeongguk for a moment that stretches out wider than the room itself, and he’s so stunning and so close that Jeongguk feels the need to hold his breath. He thinks better of it when he senses Jimin coming even closer, and he allows his eyes to flutter shut when Jimin finally fits their mouths together. 

It’s a soft, sweet first kiss. Jimin tastes like wine and an aftertaste that Jeongguk always wants to linger in his mouth. He presses forward into Jeongguk’s space, and Jeongguk finds his waist, instantly reminded of that omnipresent urge to always pull Jimin closer. He opens his mouth to Jimin, breathes him in, pulls him as near as he can manage. He can’t quite hear the cicadas through the closed windows, but everything about the way they kiss feels like a summer night. It’s a little too warm in all the best ways, and Jimin feels like late-night light, the days when it seems the sun won’t ever set. 

Before their mouths can even separate, Jeongguk replies, “I love you, too,” and kisses him again. 

When they finally manage to unwind from the way they’ve so easily wrapped around each other, Jimin takes hold of Jeongguk’s hand to lace their fingers together. His expression grows thoughtful, and Jeongguk can see the way the ideas and words start to run circles inside his head. 

“You know, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin starts quietly. He bravely keeps eye contact – and his cheeks and lips alike are both even pinker than before. “When we were apart, even before you were in Seoul, I had this really weird habit. I was really jumpy, and I was always looking over my shoulder. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it felt like I would always turn to whatever direction you were in. It was almost like my body was trying to drag me back to you, like it knew I’d left you in Busan.” 

There are certain moments where Jeongguk finds himself utterly inundated with the weight of his and Jimin’s connection. It feels so much bigger than just him, or even the two of them. It’s everything in between, lacing them together, intertwining their lives, their pasts, their futures, every difference and similarity they’ve ever had and ever will have. This thing they have – the thing they’ll continue to build – is more than they’ll ever come to understand. Knowing that Jimin experienced a feeling like that leaves a chill running through his body. 

“That… that didn’t happen to me,” Jeongguk replies, squeezing Jimin’s hand, “but there were nights when I couldn’t sleep, knowing you were here and I wasn’t.” 

Jimin’s eyes shake, and he blinks hard. Jeongguk can feel some of his regret about the way he acted in the past, and Jeongguk wants to squash it down. He has no reason to feel that way when they both made mistakes, but he doesn’t dare talk over him. 

“I’m… really happy you followed me,” Jimin whispers. 

Jeongguk blushes hard, as he so often does around Jimin. For as deep as their connection runs, Jimin still manages to catch him off guard. Jeongguk definitely hadn’t expected him to say that. “Something told me I had good reason to,” he replies softly. 

“Well, I didn’t make it easy for you,” Jimin insists. “Just… thank you, Jeongguk-ah.” 

Jeongguk wrinkles his brow. He can’t even believe that Jimin is trying to thank him, when throughout all of this, neither of them have ever been more at fault in their past or more worthy of praise for the way their relationship has turned out now. 

“This was on Fate, not me,” Jeongguk argues. 

Jimin smiles at him; clearly Jeongguk is missing something here. Jimin shifts on the couch so that his knee overlaps Jeongguk’s thigh and they’re sitting quite nearly face to face. 

“Fate may have chosen us for each other, but she doesn’t get to take all the credit. She didn’t make you who you are. She’s not the one who makes me laugh, or gives me butterflies, or talks to me late at night when we should both be asleep. So, let me say this to you.” 

Jeongguk’s stomach swoops like he’s in free fall. Jimin’s words echo even without the acoustics for them to ring out. “Okay,” Jeongguk breathes. “Yeah.” He pauses and plays with Jimin’s fingers. “Um, hyung, can I ask you something?” 

Jimin looks at him with big eyes, and his expression alone encourages Jeongguk to go on with whatever he has to say. 

Jeongguk allows one of his cheeky smirks to spread onto his face, and in a low voice, he murmurs, “Kiss me again?” 

Jimin so fondly rolls his eyes, but he kisses Jeongguk without question. As they part their mouths for one another and chase the feeling of each other’s lips, Jeongguk feels a shift. Between kisses, he looks down at their wandering hands to the string that connects them. It was there all along, but it finally glows red. 

Jeongguk feels euphoric at the sight of it, and with a gasp, Jimin crawls into Jeongguk’s lap. Jeongguk fits his hands to Jimin’s waist again without thinking, but he cocks his head before Jimin can kiss him more. 

“Aren’t you supposed to show me around?” he jokes. 

Jimin shrugs, already surging forward, listening to Fate’s request for them to crash together again. “We’ll get to that,” Jimin says.