Chapter Text
It takes Jungkook just over a year and half to extract himself from the Yong Jegug.
Not as long as he thought it was going to take but still much longer than he would have preferred because every day spent as the leader of Seoul’s most powerful mob is another day spent away from Taehyung. Not seeing him, not being with him, not even talking to him. They’ve both taken the cutting off of all communication seriously, no phone calls, no emails, not even an occasional text message. It’s better this way, keeps Taehyung safe. He gets a periodic update from Yoongi every few months, that Taehyung is still living in Busan, just that, no other details.
It’s all he needs to know, that Taehyung is alive. That’s the most important thing to him.
Only a few weeks after Jungkook had sent Taehyung away, he found out that it was Baek Hyeon who had sold him out to Min SungWon, played both sides to see which one would give him the sweeter deal. Knowing another leader was partly responsible for nearly getting Taehyung killed presented a bit of a dilemma for Jungkook－to kill or not to kill?
On the one hand, killing Baek would satisfy his need to hunt down anyone who had ever caused harm to Taehyung and scorch them to ash. On the other hand, taking down a leader could embroil him in a gang war, keep him in the underworld for that much longer, even cost him his life. It wouldn’t be like wiping that shitstain Jwi Haechung off the face of the earth; Baek was a proper mob boss with numerous connections and soldiers, someone whose death would have severe consequences.
After laying on his couch and losing sleep over it for a solid week, he decided to consult Nam Kang-Dae, his father’s trusted friend.
“Hmm…tricky,” the old man said, leaning back in his chair and stroking his bushy grey beard when Jungkook met him in his office. “Very tricky. Baek most certainly acted out of line when he betrayed you and retribution wouldn’t entirely be uncalled for…however, it could lead to a messy war and frankly, I am getting too old for that kind of thing.” He sighed, tapping his fingers on his desk, considering Jungkook with solemn eyes. But then they lit up with a glint of humor. “Perhaps we should be patient. Maybe in a few years or so, Baek will find himself in Imugi territory and be met with an unfortunate accident.”
Jungkook nodded, holding back a smirk. “It would be a shame if Baek unexpectedly found himself in the path of a runaway truck or something. However, accidents do happen.”
“Indeed they do.”
Jungkook got up to leave, giving Nam Kang-Dae a respectful bow. “Thank you for your council, Nam Kang-Dae nim. I am in your debt.”
Nam Kang-Dae waved a dismissive hand, grinning at him. “Think nothing of it, my boy. When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you know how to play the long game.”
Jungkook respected the old man’s advice and left Baek alone. Being patient and playing the long game was something he was only just learning how to do. But it was easier now seeing as he viewed every decision through the filter of ‘Is this going to get me closer to Taehyung?’ And wasting time on violent retribution and gang wars would only put Taehyung even further out of reach.
He was a gang leader who had taken a vow of non-violence. The irony was not lost on him and he wondered if he should seriously consider becoming a monk. Because violence wasn’t the only thing he was abstaining from.
For the first time in the nearly twelve years since he had had his virginity taken from him, Jungkook gave up sex. Taehyung was the only person he wanted to have it with anyway and since Taehyung was living in Busan, it was celibacy all the way. It wasn’t even a hard decision to make; he had zero interest in going to bed with anyone else and when he did feel those urges from time to time, he got himself off with his hand, alone in his penthouse with nothing but the memory of Taehyung wrapped around him in his mind, Taehyung’s name on his lips as he came. Afterwards, he always felt lonely and depressed, circling the blue and red friendship bracelet around his wrist, running his thumb over the threads. Wondering if Taehyung still wore his. Or if he had taken it off because he had met someone else and didn’t want to be reminded of Jungkook anymore.
But no matter how lonely he felt, no matter how dark his thoughts became, Jungkook never sought out anyone else, even for some temporary relief. There was no one else for him. Only Taehyung.
The only reason he went to the Bird Cage was to negotiate with Hobi, buy him out so he could shut the place down. Which took fucking forever.
Two fucking months just to get Hobi to agree to his proposal. At first, he adamantly refused, looking scandalized at the thought of selling his precious brothel, looking at Jungkook like he was asking Hobi to amputate one of his legs. Or his dick, more like. But after going there every week, armed with threats, bribes, and a switchblade just in case, Jungkook eventually managed to persuade Hobi to sell the controlling share to him so he had full ownership.
And then it took another two fucking months to agree on a price.
At first Jungkook balked at the exorbitant amount Hobi was asking for, their meetings devolving into shouting matches and, one time, a fistfight. So much for non violence but at least no knives came into play, even though Jungkook knew Hobi wore at least two somewhere on him at all times. So it was a sign that Hobi still saw him as a friend at least.
Afterwards, when they had declared a draw and righted some chairs and tables that had got knocked down during their fight, they had sat down again, Hobi bringing out a bottle of Dalmore scotch for them to share.
"I’m not backing down on my price, JK,” Hobi had said, swiping at the blood still trickling out of his nose. “Take it or leave it.”
It was pure extortion but all Jungkook had to do was remember why he was doing it in the first place－so that no other young man or woman would be brought here, lured by promises of riches, only to find themselves locked in a cage, exploited and abused. Just like Taehyung had been.
There were other underworld brothels of course; Jungkook couldn’t shut down all of them. But he could shut down this one and give Hobi’s ‘birds’ a fresh start. On top of the fee he payed to Hobi, he made sure to pay each employee of the Cage a generous severance package, give them a chance at a new life. Some, like Jinx, were too far gone to dig their way out of the underworld, too fucked up by drugs or abusive men or both. But most of them received the money and the news that they would no longer have to work at the Bird Cage with a new light in their eyes. They talked of college, travelling the world, maybe even seeing their families again. Jasmine confided in him that she had always wanted to travel to Europe, maybe study at one of those old universities that had been around for centuries. As she talked, her voice contained a certain note of invitation and before she could confide anything else, Jungkook wished her well and sent her on her way.
There were some grumblings from the other gang leaders about the Cage being shut down but Jungkook just cited ‘business reasons’ and told them all to go to the other brothels to buy some sex, there were plenty of whores left in Seoul.
That word always stuck in his mouth now whenever he uttered it but until he left for good, he still had to maintain a certain ruthless persona. Even if the facade was hard to keep up sometimes.
Once the Bird Cage was shut down and Hobi had absconded to the other side of the world with his money (“I’m going to the Caribbean!”), Jungkook turned to the tasks remaining to him: getting the men in his inner circle out of the gang world, safely and discreetly, and then getting himself out.
Which turned out to be harder than he anticipated because they all decided to be stubborn about it.
“We’re not leaving, boss,” Jin told him during the meeting when Jungkook announced that he would be breaking up the inner circle and sending them out of Seoul. “You need us here.”
“Jin’s right,” Namjoon said, nodding in agreement, even as he cast a sidelong look at Jin, expression uncertain. “We’re loyal to you and we’re here until the end. You can’t send us away.”
“Who’s going to look after your finances?” Bogum whined. “Especially after the whole Bird Cage thing, I don’t know what you were thinking, boss…”
Seojoon just heaved a sigh and looked away, not saying anything.
“Hey!” Jungkook snapped at them, making Bogum jump. “Who’s the fucking leader here? Last time I checked it was still me so I get to decide if I’m no longer in need of your services.” He straightened his shoulders, glaring around at them all. “I’ll get things all sorted out for you guys so take care of anything you need to take care of and decide where you want to go. Preferably somewhere outside Korea.”
They didn’t argue with him after that.
So it was another few months of negotiations and shady deals, this time with the feds, who were more corrupt and dangerous than any gang leader, in Jungkook’s opinion. Buying full pardons for all of his men, for all of the criminal activity they had taken part in over the years, was not cheap and by the end of it, the Yong Jegug was hemorrhaging money. Not that they were in danger of running out of it anytime soon and Jungkook had plenty of cash stored away in offshore accounts, more than enough for his upcoming retirement. And more than enough for two people to live on, for decades to come. He made sure of that.
When the pardons for his men had finally been secured, along with passports and new identities, he met with each one of them separately to iron out the final details and say his goodbyes.
Bogum had decided on Japan (“land of anime!”) and was going to keep a low profile as a clerk in a manga store in Tokyo or Osaka.
"It won’t be very glamorous,” he sighed, “but I like the thought of getting to talk about my favorite animes all day, even catch up on all the shows I’ve been meaning to watch.”
“That…sounds nice, Bogum.”
“Thanks, boss.” When he had gotten up to leave, he had turned at the door, his eyes round and puppy-like. “I hope, after all this is over and you leave too…well, I hope you find Taehyung ssi okay.”
Jungkook nodded at him, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Bogum. I hope so too.”
“And if you get married, you’ll invite me to the wedding, right?”
Jungkook opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, looking down at the friendship bracelet tied around his wrist. “Yes, Bogum,” he said after a few long seconds, touching the red and blue threads. “If we get married, you’ll be invited to the wedding.”
“Thanks, boss!”
Jungkook said goodbye to Namjoon and Jin at the same time because they were moving to Canada together, planned to open up a small restaurant.
“Or a bakery,” Jin said to him. “But I’ll be the one taking care of the food.” He took Namjoon’s hand in his, grinning widely at him. “You can be the one running the front of the shop.”
“Oh come on,” Namjoon said, rolling his eyes even as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I can cook.”
“You can barely chop an onion,” Jin retorted. “But it’s okay, I still love you.”
Jungkook stared at where their hands were joined on the table, a small drop of envy poisoning the moment. Not envy really, but longing. Longing for what they had together now. Longing for what he had lost and wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back again.
When Jin caught him looking, he forced another smile. “Whatever you decide to do, I’m sure it’ll be a success,” he said. “Your homemade kimchi stew will be a blessing to all Canadians, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Just before they left, Jin completely caught Jungkook off guard by pulling him into a brotherly hug. “Don’t worry, JK,” he whispered. “Taehyung ssi won’t give up on you. I know he wouldn’t do that.”
After a few stunned seconds, Jungkook returned the hug, patting Jin on the back. “Thanks, hyung,” he whispered back. He didn’t trust himself to say anything more than that.
When it came time to meet with Seojoon, Jungkook was in for another surprise when Seojoon told him that he wouldn’t be leaving; he was staying in Seoul.
“I went through the trouble of buying you a full pardon, Seojoon,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth. “This would have been nice to know before I did that.”
“Oh, I’ll still take the pardon, boss, should I ever need it.” Seojoon said casually. “But my home is here in Seoul and I don’t fancy leaving. Besides,” he continued, examining his solid gold cuff links, “working for the mob has proven to be quite lucrative and I’m not so sure I want to give that up anytime soon.” He smiled at Jungkook, a touch of sharpness to it. “And I’m a lawyer. We’re all criminals anyway, even the ‘legitimate’ ones.”
“True,” Jungkook said, smirking. “But you still won’t be working for me anymore, my friend. How do you feel about working for someone like Nam Kang-Dae? He could always use another lawyer to keep him out of trouble.”
Seojoon rubbed a hand along his jaw, considering. “Hmm…the old timer can be a little bit irritating at times but he’s a good man. I take it you’ll be able to put in a good word for me?”
“Consider it done,” Jungkook said. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem fitting in with the Imugi mob. They’re MO is a lot like ours.”
“Cunning yet stylish,” Seojoon said, adjusting his tie with a cocky smile. “Yes, I’m sure we’ll get along famously,” and Jungkook laughed.
But when Jungkook saw Seojoon to the door, he turned serious again.
“Look, boss,” Seojoon said, giving him a solemn look. “I know why you’re doing all of this, cutting ties, sending us away. So I’ll keep my distance from you. But just know that if you do ever find yourself in legal trouble, wherever you are, you can always call on me. My loyalty to you doesn’t end just because I no longer work for you.”
Jungkook blinked at him, shocked by such an uncharacteristic display of sincerity. Jesus, were all of his men going to get mushy on him at the very last second? “Thanks, Seojoon,” he said, trying to sound indifferent. He stuck out his hand for a friendly but firm handshake. “Means a lot.”
“You’re welcome.” Seojoon shook his hand, giving him one final smile. “And if I do ever see you again, I hope it’s with Taehyung beside you.” He winked. “I’ll be happy to draw up a marriage contract. And I can always serve as your officiant if you need one.”
"Yeah?” Jungkook couldn’t help but smile back. “You might have to fight Jin or Bogum over it. Or possibly both.”
Seojoon snorted. “Yeah, right. Jin might provide a challenge but I could take Bogum out any day. And he knows it.”
And then he left and Jungkook was truly alone. The only thing left for him to do was die.
Not literally, of course. But he had wrestled with the problem of how to make a clean break, get away from the Yong Jegug permanently and the only way to do that was to－
“Fake your own death?” Nam Kang-Dae stared at him from across his solid oak executive desk. “You really think such an, er, extreme solution is called for?”
“Yes, I think so,” Jungkook said calmly, sitting in one of Kang-Dae’s stiff antique chairs. “Especially considering I’ll be transferring the leadership of the Yong Jegug over to you. All of its territory, its connections, its assets…”
Nam Kang-Dae’s eyes went wide in his bearded face. “My boy,” he said in an awed voice. “Are you…are you sure?”
“Yes,” Jungkook said. “I’m getting out, Kang-Dae nim. And there’s no other leader I trust to give everything to. You’re welcome to take on the name of the Yong Jegug for yourself or put everything under the Imugi name.” He shrugged. “After all, we do have very similar emblems. All I ask is that you help me stage the whole thing, do it properly so people will really think I’m gone.”
Nam Kang-Dae gaped at him. “But…but if I’m involved in staging faking your death, people will think I killed you.”
“So let them think that,” Jungkook replied. “It’ll only make them fear you even more.”
“Hmm…” Nam Kang-Dae drummed his fingers on his desktop, giving him a shrewd look. “Well, your father would be disappointed,” he said, heaving a sigh. “But…your mother would be immensely proud of you, I think.”
Jungkook went very still, unsure of what to say to that. So he just nodded.
“She was a good woman, Jeon Nami,” Nam Kang-Dae went on. “Her death was a great tragedy for us all, but most of all for you, Jungkook. I know that. I believe it was her sincerest, most desperate wish to see you get out of this life.” He inclined his head in a small bow. “You honor her by making this choice.”
Jungkook bowed back, his throat tight. “My thanks, Nam Kang-Dae nim. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t thank me yet, my boy,” Nam Kang-Dae chuckled. “I still haven’t fulfilled my promise of ending your life.”
So he had to spend a few more months on more arrangements, more planning and even more money spent on a full pardon for himself, the feds getting really greedy and making him pay more than he had for all of the other members of his inner circle combined. But, all things considered, it was a small price to pay for his freedom, his peace of mind. Knowing that his criminal past wouldn’t follow him out of Seoul, that he was free to start over was worth so much more to him than money.
Then came the night of his death, a nice bit of theater staged on the docks with Nam Kang-Dae and some of their soldiers stationed around, some from the Yong Jegug and some from the Imugi orginization, some in on it and some not, so there would be credible witnesses to the fall of Jeon Jungkook.
An argument over a drug shipment, a deal gone wrong and Jungkook found himself standing on the edge of the dock, his back to the Han river, Nam Kang-Dae pointing a pistol at him, shouting about betrayal and dishonor. The gun went off, bullet going wide and Jungkook threw himself backwards into the water, apparently shot.
God, the water was freezing.
It pierced into him like a thousand knives, and even if he had been shot dead, he was sure the pain of it would have shocked him back to life. He stayed underwater for as long as possible, swimming away from the docks until he finally had to go up to the surface for air, heaving in lungfuls of oxygen as if he was breathing for the first time in his life. He set out again, swimming for the boat that was supposed to be there, trying to keep the splashing of his limbs to a minimum. After a few minutes of swimming he still couldn’t see any sign of a fucking boat and he began to panic, thinking maybe Nam Kang-Dae had decided to kill him for real, let him drown in the river as extra insurance that Jungkook would never come back to Seoul and try to reclaim what he had given away.
But then he heard the soft putter of a motor and turned in the water to see a small boat headed his way, a dim searchlight picking him out in the darkness. Then it was stopping beside him and he swam to it, using his last bit of strength before a hand was reaching for him, pulling him up and dragging him into the boat where he collapsed on the floor, out of breath.
“Jesus, you must be cold,” a light voice said from above him, and Jungkook opened his eyes to see Nam Minji, one of Nam Kang-Dae’s granddaughters. “Here, I made sure to bring you a change of clothes.”
After changing out of his water-logged suit and into some dry clothes, Minji threw a blanket over him and steered the boat to a dock on the other side of the river where a car was waiting for him to take him to the airport.
Once on Nam Kang-Dae’s small private plane, Jungkook passed right out in his seat, completely exhausted. Only to be shaken awake by Minji just over an hour later. “We’ve landed,” she said. “I know you’re tired but we have to take off again right away. This flight isn’t exactly on the record, so to speak.”
“Right,” Jungkook said, getting to his feet. “Thanks, Minji. And pass my thanks on to your grandfather.”
“I will.”
He had landed in Japan to take care of one more thing, cut off the last remaining thread tying him to the Yong Jegug: the dragon tattoo snaking around his arm, branding him as a gang member. If he was going to be living in Hawaii, it was likely no one would make the connection but he still didn’t want to take any chances. And besides, he didn’t want it anymore. Didn’t want such a glaring reminder of past sins.
He traveled to the city of Yokohama where he’d been told an ancient tattoo artist lived, specializing in traditional Japanese techniques, his colors so vivid, his lines so sharp that people whispered of the tattoos actually moving, the eyes of the oni seeming to follow you, dragons and foxes rippling over the skin.
It sounded like the stuff of fairy tales and Jungkook wondered if the man even existed but when he found the tattoo parlour in a tiny shop down a twisting back alley, the old man turned out to be real, glaring at Jungkook with rheumy eyes when he walked in the door, gnarled hands busy with mixing some red ink.
“Sit down over there,” he barked in Japanese, jerking his chin at a chair near the door. “You’ll have to wait until I’m finished.”
So Jungkook sat and waited, a good half an hour before the old man put down his inks and shuffled over to him.
“What do you want?” the old man said curtly, looking at Jungkook like he was some annoying pest, and not a potential customer.
Jungkook stood up and rolled up his sleeve, showing him the lower half of his dragon tattoo. “I want this covered up,” Jungkook said in halting Japanese. “You can do that, right?”
“Of course I can!” the old man snapped. “I’ve only been doing this for fifty years! It’ll cost you though…”
“That’s fine,” Jungkook said. “Whatever it is, I’m willing to pay it.”
The old man seized Jungkook’s wrist and brought him closer, peering down at the ink on his arm. “Hmm…” he said, clicking his tongue. “Not bad work…although some of the scales are uneven…and the artist did a sloppy job on the linework of the tail…”
“Look, I didn’t come here for a critique,” Jungkook said irritably. “I just want it covered up.”
The old man looked up at him, fixing him with a hard stare and for a moment Jungkook thought he might actually kick him out of his shop. But then the old man grunted and beckoned Jungkook towards his tattoo table and began hunting around for a pencil and paper.
It took the old man a full week to cover up the dragon with the design Jungkook had decided on: a full sleeve of a tiger prowling through the jungle, done in bright, vivid color. The ancient tattoo artist never once spoke to Jungkook as he was tattooing him, preferring to work in silence which was just fine with Jungkook. It gave him time to think about his next move, plan for what he would write to Taehyung once he was in Hawaii. That’s how he had decided to announce his retirement from the gang world to him, ask him if he was still willing to come live with him. If he was still willing to be with him.
Taehyung constantly occupied his thoughts as he lay there on the tattoo table, distracting him from the pain of the needle. What he was doing, how he spent his days, what he had been painting lately. How big had Yeontan gotten and how had the scars on his arm healed?
And…did he still love him? Or had he found someone else?
It was on Jungkook’s final day in the tattoo shop that the old man finally spoke to him, breaking him out of his depressing thoughts.
“This tiger,” the old man said, putting some finishing touches along the tiger’s eyes, “who is it for?”
“What do you mean who is it for?” Jungkook said, frowning up at the ceiling, not looking at him. “It’s for me.”
“I don’t tolerate liars,” the old man said mildly, still focused on the tattoo. “And I know the reasons behind every one of my client’s tattoos even if they never say a word. You’re getting this tiger inked on your arm for someone other than yourself. Now tell me who it is or I’ll refuse to finish it.”
“If you don’t finish it, I won’t pay you.”
The old man sighed and carefully lifted the needle away from Jungkook’s arm, his expression patient and unyielding that clearly said ‘I can wait all day, you little smartass.’
“Fine,” Jungkook grit out. “It’s for…the one I love.”
“Woman? Man?”
Jungkook glared at him. “I don’t think that’s any of your fucking business.”
“Ah, a man then,” the artist said, lowering his needle to Jungkook’s arm again. “Funny, I wouldn’t have thought you were one of those.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You needn’t get so defensive, young man,” the artist said, filling in the tiger’s eyes with bright yellow ink. “We have plenty of them in Japan too. I’m not prejudiced, it just never made sense to me. Why would you want to be with a man when there are so many beautiful women around…”
“Shut up,” Jungkook snapped. “What the fuck would an old man like you know about love?” The old man looked up at him again, those ancient dark eyes seeming to pierce right through him and Jungkook felt himself get hot in the face. But still he went on. “He was willing to die for me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Anyone ever love you like that?”
“Hmm.” The old man went back to focusing on the tattoo, putting the finishing touches around the eye. “Strength and courage. This is what the tiger symbolizes in our culture. It is the same in Korea, I think.” He glanced up at Jungkook for confirmation and Jungkook nodded. “So it seems this is a fitting tattoo for your beloved. I’m just glad that my hard work and talent is not being wasted on someone unworthy.”
And the old man finished the tattoo with a small smile on his face.
Once the tattoo was sanitized and wrapped with a bandage, Jungkook put his shirt back on. “How much do I owe you?”
“No charge,” the old man said gruffly, cleaning up his tattoo station. “Just get out of my shop.”
"Um…what? But you said－”
“Never mind what I said,” the old man snapped. “We’re done here! Just go!”
Jungkook hesitated. The tattoo was a masterpiece, easily worth the cost of one of Jungkook’s designer suits, if not more. To just walk out without paying…
“Are you still here?” the old man said, looking up at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Er…right.”
He made his way to the door but just as he put his hand on the door knob, the old man spoke from behind him.
“Your tiger will return to you. But you must be patient.”
A shiver went through him and Jungkook turned back to look at the old man, staring at him. The old man just nodded at him and went back to organizing his inks.
“Thank you,” Jungkook said quietly, and left the shop without another word, wondering if the old man and the shop may have had a touch of magic to them after all. Whatever had happened, it had definitely been one of the weirdest things he’d ever experienced.
One more plane ride and he was finally back in Hawaii, back in his little wooden bungalow with his private beach. It feels so empty now without Taehyung to share it with him, isolated and lonely.
This is where Taehyung first told me he loved me, he thinks as he strolls along the beach. This is where I failed to say it back to him.
But he says it in the letter he writes to him, as eloquently as he can. He spends hours on it, scratching out sentences and rewriting it again and again, becoming more unsatisfied with each draft. Finally, he gets frustrated and just writes exactly what he feels and leaves it at that, hoping it will be enough. Hoping that he hasn’t waited too long.
Jungkook posts the letter to Yoongi’s address in Busan, with an accompanying note requesting that he give the letter to Taehyung but only if he feels that it’s the right thing to do. If Taehyung is happy where he is, if he’s met someone else, Jungkook has instructed Yoongi to just tear the letter up and never speak of it.
If he’s happy, I’ll leave him alone. If he’s in love with someone else, I’ll let him go.
Your tiger will return to you…
But he can’t know that for sure, no matter what some maybe-mythical tattoo artist told him. There’s nothing for him to do but wait.
***
“Taehyung ssi! Should I add the touches of pink to my bluebird like you did? Or can I use green instead, green’s my favorite color!”
“You can do whatever color you like, Sooyun, it’s your painting－”
“Taehyung ssi! Look at mine! Look at mine! Look how good it is!”
“It’s very nice, Juwon, I like how you made the tail feathers extra long, it’s really pretty.”
The boy beams up at him and goes back to his bluebird painting, adding on more tail feathers. Taehyung looks around and then makes his way across the art room to his favorite kid, Eunji, who has her head down, working diligently on her painting. He knows it’s not exactly proper to pick favorites out of all the kids but they had had a connection on his very first day of volunteering at the art center.
“How’s it going, kiddo?” he says, leaning down to study her bluebird, the feathers meticulously outlined. “Wow, it looks great!”
“Her name’s Alia,” Eunji whispers to him. “Because she likes to sing.”
“Ah, of course. What kinds of songs does she sing? Love ballads? Full-length operas?”
Eunji giggles but then tilts her head, her face scrunched up as she thinks about it. “She sings Red Velvet songs,” she declares after a few seconds. “And only Red Velvet songs.”
Taehyung laughs. “Alia must be pretty talented then, to do all their voices at once.”
“She is,” Eunji says, grinning. “All the other bluebirds go to her concerts.”
“Not just the bluebirds,” Taehyung says. “But all the other songbirds too. And even the crows and the eagles and the—”
“Ooh, an eagle!” she exclaims. “Can you show us how to paint an eagle next week?”
“Hmm...I think we’re supposed to do a landscape next week. That’s what Hana nim says we’re doing. But,” and he leans closer so none of the other kids can hear him, “maybe I’ll show you how to draw an eagle flying through the sky.”
She grins at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yay,” she says quietly, turning back to her bluebird.
Taehyung watches her paint, a warm feeling of contentment settling in his chest. He signed up for a six-month stint volunteering at one of Busan’s art centres, teaching kids, ages nine to eleven, the basics of drawing and painting. And...he loves it. He loves the kids, he loves teaching, and his Saturday afternoons spent in this room filled with easels and the smell of acrylic paint is where the constant ache of missing him eases a little. Just a tiny bit, it never disappears completely but...it does allow him to think about something else, even if it’s only for a couple of hours a week.
He’s only a month in to his six month commitment but already he can see himself signing up for another one right after, during the spring months. Or maybe even doing something more.
“You should really think about getting your teaching certificate,” Hana had said to him in his second week. And she actually worked as an art teacher. “You’re so talented! And the kids love you. You’re a natural at this!”
“Yeah, maybe,” Taehyung said, blushing at her praise. “I never considered being a teacher but I really do enjoy it...”
That would require him going to college, something he’s thought about from time to time but the time commitment always puts him off. With anything in his life now, he always considers the commitment: how long will this take? How easy will it be for me to break away from it if he comes back for me?
Those first six months after Jungkook had sent him away, Taehyung had always told himself when. When Jungkook comes back for me. But now, after a year and a half, the when had gradually shifted to if. If Jungkook comes back for me.
College would be a huge time commitment and if he did get his teaching certificate and then a job in Busan…wouldn’t it signal the end of his hope that Jungkook was coming back at all? If he just finally allowed himself to settle into his life in Busan?
But now looking at Eunji happily working on her painting, looking around at the other kids in the art room, Taehyung allows himself a new thought. Maybe. Maybe it’s time to let go.
It wouldn’t be the life he truly wanted, living here in Busan without him. Not when he still dreams about their shared paradise in Hawaii, still aches for it. But if he isn’t going to come back…Taehyung thinks he might as well try and make the best of it.
“Okay, everyone,” Hana announces from the other side of the room, breaking Taehyung out of his thoughts. “Brushes down please! It’s time to start cleaning up. No, Chuwon, you can’t take your bluebird painting home this week, it has to dry! You can take it next week!”
Taehyung assisted Hana in getting the kids to clean up, rinsing their brushes and dumping out their cups of dirty water in the big paint-stained sink, collapsing the easels and making sure all of the paintings were signed by each kid so they could avoid the chaos of their second week when they had had to settle multiple disputes over whose bunny painting belonged to who.
“You’d know which one was mine, right, Taehyung ssi?” Eunji asks him anxiously as she very deliberately prints her name at the bottom of her bluebird picture. “Even if it didn’t have my name on it? In case it gets messed up somehow?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be able to tell. Down to the last feather,” he reassures her and she smiles brightly, causing another flare of that warm contentment in his chest.
Yep…could definitely get used to this…
Parents arrive one by one to pick up their children, a process that takes a while, considering each kid performs the ritual of dragging their mother or father or elder sibling over to their picture and showing it off, asking again if they can take it home with them, only to be given a firm no by Hana.
Taehyung says goodbye to each of the kids, Eunji hovering close by his side, waving excitedly as her father walks into the art room. Heat blooms on Taehyung’s face and he fiddles with the sleeve of his sweater, making sure it’s tugged all the way to his wrist. There’s no denying that Eunji’s father, Chunso, is quite handsome and he had actually hung back for a few minutes last week, making small talk with Taehyung. It hadn’t been pleasant or unpleasant, it had just been…weird. The way his gaze had lingered just a little too long on Taehyung’s lips, how he had seemed so reluctant to leave right away.
Taehyung doesn’t feel anything for Chunso except nervous. Being around someone who may or may not be interested in him just makes him nervous.
“Hey, sweetie!” Chunso greets his daughter with a smile and a hug. “Have fun?”
“Yeah!” She grabs his hand, tugging him over to the table where all the pictures are drying. “We painted bluebirds this week, come see mine…”
Chunso exchanges an amused look with Taehyung, one that says ‘kids, am I right?’ before allowing himself to be dragged over to the table to examine Eunji’s work. “Wow, sweet pea, you did such a good job!”
“Thanks,” she says proudly, looking down at her painting. “Taehyung ssi showed us how to draw the feathers so they look real! And he said next week he’s going to show me how to draw an eagle!”
“Oh, really?” Chunso glances over at Taehyung, lips quirked up in a smile. “Well, you’re lucky to have such a talented teacher, huh?” He winks at Taehyung and Taehyung has to break eye contact, looking down at his shoes, feeling something like guilt coil inside his stomach.
“Yeah!” Eunji says. “Daddy, can we go to McDonald’s? I want McDonald’s－” And then she gasps, eyes wide, hurrying over to Taehyung. “Oh my gosh, Taehyung ssi! Do you want to come to McDonald’s with us? With me and my dad?”
"Oh, um,” Taehyung stammers, fiddling with his sleeve again. “I’m sure your dad would just want it to be the two of you and I－”
“I don’t mind,” Chunso says, walking back over to him, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “In fact, Eunji usually ends up abandoning me to go play in the ball pit they have there so I just end up sitting by myself. It’d be nice to have some company.”
“I…” Taehyung’s heart hammers in his chest, his mouth going dry. He instinctively takes a step back, fighting the urge to flee.
“It’d be my treat,” Chunso continues, and there’s a faint huskiness to his voice, an invitation for something more than just a McDonald’s hamburger. He glances down at Taehyung’s lips for a split second, before looking back into his eyes.
Taehyung’s fingers fumble for the red and blue bracelet he still wears around his wrist, and it anchors him, allowing him to find his voice again.
“I’m so sorry,” Taehyung says, clearing his throat. “It’s very kind of you to invite me but I’m actually supposed to be meeting my fiance for dinner so…”
“Oh.” Chunso frowns slightly. “My bad, I didn’t know－” He cuts himself off, looking incredibly embarrassed. “I mean, of course you would have other plans on a Saturday.”
“Awww,” Eunji says, sounding disappointed. “That’s okay, Taehyung ssi, I guess I’ll see you next week.”
"See you next week, kiddo,” Taehyung says, smiling at her, giving Chunso a small bow while completely avoiding his eye. Once they’re gone and all of the other kids have been picked up, he bids Hana goodbye and practically sprints out of the room to his car.
“Jesus, Tae,” Jimin says irritably. “Would it have killed you to go on one stupid date?”
“Jimin,” Taehyung replies, a note of warning in his voice as he chops up an onion for the stir fry they’re making, “we’ve talked about this. Forget I said anything.”
He knew it had been a mistake to tell Jimin about Eunji’s father trying to flirt with him earlier. He had just meant for it to be a weird, funny story, haha guess what happened to me today. But of course Jimin had seized the opportunity to pester him about dating.
Jimin sighs, hacking away at some bell peppers on a cutting board, his knife thudding against the wood. “I’m just saying－”
“Well, don’t just say!” Taehyung snaps. “We’ve been over this and I still feel the same way. If that ever changes, I’ll let you know and then you can set me up with whatever random guy you think would suit me.”
He can feel Jimin’s gaze on him but Taehyung keeps his head down, concentrating on the onion. Telling himself that it’s the only reason why his eyes are starting to sting with tears.
It had only been a few months after Jimin and Yoongi had moved to Busan to be close to Taehyung that his best friend had subtly tried to get him to move on from Jungkook. Nodding at attractive-looking men when they were out walking Yeontan or at a coffee shop. “That guy’s really cute,” Jimin would say. Or, “I think he’s checking you out.”
Taehyung would just shrug and shake his head, barely even glancing at the men Jimin pointed out to him. He didn’t want any of them, had no interest even in looking. How could he when his body, his heart, his soul belonged to Jungkook?
I said I would wait…I just have to be patient…
The final straw had happened when Jimin had ambushed him with a blind date one evening when Taehyung had gone to Jimin and Yoongi’s place for dinner, about eight months after he had left Seoul for good. Jimin had greeted him at the door, all smiles, ushering him in and then immediately introducing him to a guy that Taehyung had never seen before in his life.
“Tae, this is Sehun,” Jimin said, standing between them and practically vibrating with excitement. “He’s from my dance class! I hope you don’t mind me inviting him, I know it’s usually just the three of us but I thought it’d be nice to have another person here…”
Taehyung’s entire body had gone cold as he shook hands with Sehun, forced a smile. Thank god he had been wearing long sleeves.
Much to Jimin’s annoyance, Taehyung had kept things polite but distant with Sehun throughout the entire meal, not asking him any questions about himself and answering Sehun’s questions with as few words as possible.
Once dinner was over and Sehun had left, his goodbye to Jimin sounding a bit clipped, Yoongi had made himself scarce while Taehyung had gotten into a knock down, drag ‘em out screaming match with his best friend.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung had shouted at him. “Springing something on me like that? I fucking told you, I’m not interested in dating anyone!”
“Jesus Christ, Tae, what would it hurt to just try and meet new people?” Jimin had yelled back. “You’ve been closing yourself off, it’s not healthy－”
“I get to decide what’s best for me! Me! Not you!”
“Tae, I don’t want to see you throwing your entire life away because you’re waiting for Jungkook!”
“I will wait for him!” Taehyung screamed, nearing complete hysteria. “There’s no one else for me! Only him!” He had jerked up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the scars written on his arm, stark white against his skin. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to someone else, Jimin? You think fucking Sehun is going to fucking understand this?”
Tears had overwhelmed him then and he had slumped back against Jimin’s kitchen counter, burying his head in his hands.
“Tae,” Jimin said softly, coming to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Is that the reason you don’t want to date anyone? Because you think if they see your scars, you won’t be able to explain it to them?”
"No,” Taehyung said, letting his hands fall from his face and shaking his head. “It’s not just that, it’s…I don’t want to be with anyone else, Jimin. I still l-love him.”
“I know,” Jimin whispered, running a hand through Taehyung’s hair. “I know you do, Tae. And I know he still loves you but…how long can you realistically wait for him? I hate seeing you shutting yourself up in your apartment, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. I don’t think you can put your life on hold indefinitely.”
“I’m not,” Taehyung said weakly. “I’m not, I just…” But he doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. Because Jimin was right. He had been closing himself off, preferring to stay in his apartment and paint, only really venturing outside to take Yeontan out or go out somewhere with Jimin every couple of weeks. Because he wanted to be at home when that knock came on the door and he would open it to find Jungkook standing there, smiling at him.
I got out, Tae. I’m out for good. Come here and kiss me, baby, I missed you so much…
Every morning, he woke up with a new hope swelling in his chest that today would be the day that Jungkook would show up. And every night, that hope was crushed once again when there was still no sign of Jungkook. No letters, no phone calls, no messages. Nothing.
“Tae,” Jimin said quietly. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
“He will.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll…” Taehyung tried to speak around the lump rising in his throat. “I’ll…”
“He gave you your freedom, Tae,” Jimin said. “That’s the best thing he ever did for you. He wouldn’t want you to waste it.”
And that was the moment that the seed of doubt was planted and the when turned into an if. If Jungkook comes back.
Jimin was also right, in a way. Jungkook had told Taehyung that he wanted him to live his life and be happy. All Taehyung had been doing since he left Seoul was existing, biding his time until Jungkook came back for him.
It was no way to live and Taehyung knew it. He didn’t need Jimin to tell him that. But he had needed a reminder of what his freedom meant to him.
He had started taking baby steps after that night. He tried to go out with Jimin once a week, and then twice a week, until they now went out at least three or four times a week, to movie theaters and art galleries, out to the park or just to do some grocery shopping. At first, anxiety plagued him whenever he was away from his apartment for more than a couple of hours, worried he would miss Jungkook if he happened to come by while Taehyung was out. But then he reasoned that Jungkook would either just wait for him to return or come back the next day; he wouldn’t just give up after one try; Taehyung knew that. Gradually, his anxiety eased and he could actually begin to enjoy himself when he was out with Jimin and this past Christmas had even suggested they go ice skating together, something he had never tried before.
And when the new year rolled around and Taehyung had just celebrated his twenty-first birthday, he had decided it was time to take another step into adulthood; he decided to get his driver’s license.
To his surprise, Yoongi offered to teach him, making time for lessons every day and actually turning out to be a patient and methodical instructor. (Unlike Jimin, who would sit in the backseat and blurt out unhelpful advice: “Oh come on, Tae, you don’t need to stop at a stop sign when there are no other cars around, that’s just a formality!” “Jimin, I’m pretty sure when I go for my test, they won’t accept that as a rule!”)
Thankfully, when he had gone for his test, he had passed with flying colors on his very first attempt and Jimin and Yoongi had taken him out to celebrate at one of the city’s fanciest restaurants.
“You should get yourself a brand new car!” Jimin had said, beaming at him as he raised his glass in a toast. “You could get a Lamborghini! Or a Bugatti!”
“Technically, I could,” Taehyung said, feeling himself blush. “But I don’t think I’d want to get anything that flashy. I’m trying to keep a low profile here, remember?”
“Aw, you’re no fun…”
He had settled on a practical Kia Optima Hybrid, much to Jimin’s disappointment. But it was nice not having to rely on Yoongi to drive them everywhere and Taehyung was even thinking about a road trip with Jimin once he felt a little more confident behind the wheel. If he went on a road trip, he’d be away from his apartment for weeks on end...but he could always leave a note with Yoongi, right? If Jungkook came back?
Even as he’s taking steps to expand his life and making progress, Taehyung still misses Jungkook every day. Wonders what he’s doing, if he’s okay. He knows he’s still alive because he had a pact with Yoongi that if anything were to happen to Jungkook, Yoongi would tell him immediately. So far, Yoongi hasn’t said one word about Jungkook in all the time Taehyung has been living in Busan, even though Taehyung knows he’s still in contact with him. So he has that for peace of mind, at least. No news is good news.
But that doesn’t stop him from missing him, aching for him, dreaming about him. In his dreams, Taehyung will find himself navigating through a dark jungle or wandering across a vast expense of desert, the sky above strewn with stars, sparkling above him like diamonds. And in that diamond sky is the enormous black dragon that has rescued him in dreams before, scales shining silver in the moonlight. No matter how far Taehyung walks, no matter how long he chases it, the dragon remains so high above him while Taehyung remains so far below. Always within his sight but forever out of reach.
It is these dreams, more than the nightmares he still has sometimes that feature knives and cages and flowing blood, that terrify him. Instill him with such a feeling of loss and hopelessness that he wakes up crying.
And Jungkook is there in his waking hours too, residing close to the front of his mind at all times, no matter what he’s doing. He’s there in Taehyung’s private art room when Taehyung gets up to paint in the middle of the night, restless from his dreams. He’s there when Taehyung cuddles Yeontan and he wonders what Jungkook would say about how big the puppy has gotten, now a fully-grown fluffy Pomeranian. And he’s there in the quiet of the early morning when Taehyung imagines Jungkook lying next to him in bed, warm hands on his skin, on top of him, inside of him. Giving him all of the kisses he’s craved since the day Taehyung left Seoul.
Maybe Jungkook won’t come back. Maybe it’s time Taehyung accepts that there’s a possibility he’ll never see Jungkook again, never again kiss him or hold his hand. But he still won’t open himself up to the possibility of a relationship with someone else. If he doesn’t get to be with Jungkook, he’d rather be by himself.
Even if Jungkook has moved on from him, Taehyung would just rather be by himself than love someone else.
“Tae?”
Taehyung blinks, coming back to the present, staring down at the onion that remains half-sliced on the cutting board. “Hmm?”
“Are you done with the onion? We still need to cut up some mushrooms…”
“Almost,” Taehyung says, swiping at his eyes with his sleeve and going back to cutting the onion. He sniffles, keeping his back to Jimin. “Sorry, I spaced out there for a second.”
“Hey.” He feels Jimin’s arms wrap around him, trapping him in a back hug. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, Tae Tae. It was out of line.” He gives Taehyung a little squeeze, resting his cheek on his shoulder. “You know I just want you to be happy, right?”
Taehyung puts the knife down, patting Jimin’s arm. “I know, Chim,” he says softly. “I’m just…not interested in doing the dating thing. Not right now.”
“Yeah, I know, I won’t push it,” Jimin replies. “But you’re having fun at the art centre, right? You like going there?”
“Yeah, I do,” Taehyung whispers, thinking about today’s class, his mind already imagining next week’s class, what he can teach the kids. “I love the kids. It’s like…I’m able to do something that I wish I had been able to do when I was younger, you know?”
“Yeah,” Jimin says quietly and Taehyung can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s the same feeling I get when I go to my dance classes. You thought any more about getting your teaching certificate?” Taehyung had told Jimin about Hana’s comment and his friend had replied with overwhelming enthusiasm.
"Maybe,” Taehyung says, staring down at the counter but not really seeing it. “I’m…thinking about it.”
“Maybe’s good,” Jimin murmurs, giving him another squeeze. “Maybe’s better than no.”
Taehyung nods, biting his lip. “Mm hmm.”
“Come on, let’s get this stir fry finished, I’m starving.”
They get the rest of the vegetables chopped, throw it all in a pan with some ground beef and wait for it to cook, both of them almost tripping over Yeontan as he trots around the kitchen, his big puppy eyes hopeful and pleading.
“Come here, fluffball,” Taehyung says, scooping him up in his arms. “You can have some when it’s done.”
There’s a knock at the door, startling him and Jimin abandons the pan on the stove to go answer it. “It’s Yoongi,” he confirms when he looks through the peephole. “Late, as usual…”
He undoes the numerous locks and bolts that secure Taehyung’s apartment door and opens it, greeting his boyfriend with a bright smile. “Hey, honey, long day?”
“Not so bad,” Yoongi says, leaning in for a kiss. “Just had some last-minute things to do at the shop…”
Taehyung turns away, focusing on stroking Yeontan’s fur, cooing at him. He likes Yoongi, is grateful for his protection, but he can’t help but feel like a third wheel sometimes.
“Hey, Tae?” Yoongi says, and Taehyung turns back to them, frowning slightly as Yoongi walks towards him, taking something out of the back pocket of his jeans. “This, uh, came for you today.”
Taehyung stares at the white envelope in Yoongi’s hand, his stomach doing a weird sort of slow-motion flip flop. There’s no name or address that he can see on the envelope; it’s been left completely blank.
“How can you know it’s for me?” Taehyung says hesitantly. “There’s no name on it.”
“It came along with another letter addressed to me,” Yoongi says, holding out the envelope towards him. “It’s from Jungkook.”
Taehyung’s entire body seems to seize up and in that moment, he completely forgets how to breathe.
Jungkook, it’s from Jungkook…
He looks up at Jimin, who is gazing back at him, looking slightly stricken. Jimin opens his mouth and then closes it again, looking away from him.
“I…”
“Me and Jimin can give you some privacy, if you want,” Yoongi says, still holding out the letter. “If you’d rather read it alone.” He looks at Jimin over his shoulder. “Right, Chim?”
Jimin doesn’t say anything. He just shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself, staring down at the ground.
“No, it’s okay,” Taehyung says, setting Yeontan gently on the ground and at last taking the envelope from Yoongi. “I’ll…just go read it in the other room and then join you guys for dinner. It’s almost ready.”
He hurries to the room he uses for his art studio and closes the door behind him, leaning back against it, and takes a deep breath. His heart is beating a million miles a minute and Taehyung holds the letter to his chest with trembling hands.
Jungkook, it’s from Jungkook…
He starts to open it, but then stops. Why a letter? Why not come see him in person?
Doubts flood his mind and Taehyung stares at the envelope in his hands as he imagines all of the heartbreaking sentences the letter might contain.
Dear Taehyung, I’ve met someone else…Dear Taehyung, I’m writing you from prison, I’m so sorry…Dear Taehyung, I’ve moved on and so should you, I’m never coming back…
A small noise escapes him, something between a sob and a gasp and he looks up and sees the painting currently resting on his easel, the one he’s been working on for three weeks now and is almost finished.
It depicts a black dragon and a golden tiger curled up together on a stretch of sand, a full moon shining down on them. They have their foreheads pressed together, frozen in mid-nuzzle, their tails intertwined. It’s something he’s been seeing in his dreams more and more and Taehyung finds himself crying every time he works on it.
He moves closer, studying the dragon for a few moments, taking it in. Then he inhales a shaky breath, rips the envelope open and unfolds the letter, his heart in his throat as he reads.
My little tiger,
Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you. Every day I would wake up, wishing you were with me, hating that you were somewhere else. I had to fight with myself every day to not come to where you are. Because I wanted to do this right. I wanted to take the time to become the man you deserve.
I hope I achieved that. I’m out now, out of that life forever and I’ve taken steps to ensure that it never follows me. You’ll be happy to know all of our friends are out too, with the exception of the one who chose to stay. You can probably guess who.
I’m writing you this from the private place I shared with you and only you, where we swam in the ocean and made love under the stars. And I hope, with all of my being, that you’ll come share it with me again.
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t come to tell you this myself; I wanted to, my tiger, but I felt this way was safer. And, if I’m being honest, I was scared. Scared that I would find you happy and in love with someone else. My greatest fear now is that it’s too late and I waited too long, didn’t get out soon enough.
But even if the thought of never seeing you again terrifies me, I want you to be happy. More than anything, that’s what I want for you. For you to be happy and alive and free.
Just know that I’ll still love you no matter what you choose. If you decide to come back to me a year, ten years, hell, a hundred years from now, know that I’ll wait for you every single day. And if you’re happy where you are and we never meet again, please know that I’ll still be here, still loving you for the rest of my life.
-J
The letter falls from Taehyung’s hand and he bursts into tears, burying his face in his hands as Jungkook’s letter flutters to the floor.
***
Six months. It’s been six months, three days, and seven hours since Jungkook had sent that letter to Taehyung. And he still hasn’t shown up.
For the first month or so, Jungkook justified Taehyung’s continued absence by telling himself that he wouldn’t be able to come to Hawaii right away－he would have some loose ends to tie up, maybe sell his apartment, pack up his things before he could come. And it certainly didn’t help that Taehyung didn’t really have any means of contacting him; Jungkook no longer had a cell phone, not wanting anybody to be able to trace him and his tiny bungalow by the ocean didn’t exactly come with a postal address. Still, he hoped that maybe Yoongi might send him a message to indicate whether Taehyung planned on coming or not so he made the trip into town to visit the post office every couple of days. It got to the point where the lady working there would simply shake her head as soon as he popped his head in the door.
“Sorry, nothing for you yet,” she would say. “It can take a while for things to get here, we are an island, after all…”
Jungkook simply thanked her and headed back out again. Only to return a couple of days later and get the exact same answer.
One month became two months and still no sign of Taehyung. He had nothing to do all day but wander around the beach, maybe go for a swim if he felt like it, but more often that not he just lay on his futon, the one where he and Taehyung had slept, and just stare out at the ocean. Wondering where Taehyung was, what he was doing.
Maybe he’s packing right this very second, he would think. Maybe he’s getting Yeontan into a little crate and driving to the airport. Maybe he’s just landed and he’s on his way right now…
He drove himself crazy with these obsessive thoughts. And still, Taehyung didn’t show up.
It was during the third month when Jungkook woke up one morning, a single devastating thought in his head.
He’s not coming.
That was all it took to convince Jungkook that what he thought was true. Taehyung wasn’t coming, he had met someone else and had forgotten all about him. He was probably engaged to be married and Jungkook would never see him again. He would remain on this island alone for the rest of his life until the day he died.
He didn’t get get up from the futon for two straight days.
What was the point? Seriously, what was the fucking point? He had loved Taehyung and now had lost him to someone else because he had been so fucking stupid to send him away. Had he really expected Taehyung to wait for him for so long and not be wooed by some handsome doctor or rich lawyer, someone who could actually offer him a normal life? Had he really thought Taehyung wouldn’t find someone better?
These dark thoughts clouded his mind to the point where Jungkook just considered getting up and walking into the ocean, swimming out as far as he could until his limbs got heavy and the waves pulled him under. Because a life without Taehyung, a life without even the hope of him returning, wasn’t worth living at all.
So what’s the point?
Luckily, he didn’t have the energy to actually get up from the futon and embark on a fatal swim in the ocean. Instead he just lay there, watching the sun pass over him, staring up at the sky as the moon took its turn to sail across the stars.
On the third day of his crippling depression, he woke up with a black cat sitting on his chest.
He blinked at it, unsure if it was a hallucination, some sort of leftover remnant from one of his dreams. But the cat was real, all right, judging by the way Jungkook could feel its sharp claws digging into his skin as the cat kneaded his chest, purring away like a jet engine.
“Where the fuck did you come from?”
The cat just regarded him with bright green eyes, huffing at him impatiently and pawing at his face. Jungkook tried to shoo him away but the cat didn’t budge, curling up right on top of Jungkook’s chest, wrapping its long tail around its body and falling asleep.
Jungkook sighed. “Guess I can’t go anywhere now, huh?”
So he was forced to lie there with the cat sleeping on top of him, absentmindedly stroking the cat’s soft fur, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the sun, a sense of tranquility flowing through him.
It was stupid to assume that Taehyung wasn’t coming or even that he had met someone else. He couldn’t know either of those things for sure and he said in his letter that he would wait. If Taehyung ended up coming to Hawaii and Jungkook wasn’t there…
So he stayed. He remained on the futon for another hour or so, not wanting to disturb the cat just yet. It was nice to have some company and if Jungkook snuck a couple of kisses onto the cat’s fuzzy forehead, well, there was no one around to witness him doing such a thing.
Then he got up from the futon for the first time in days, scooping up the cat in his arms and carrying him into the bungalow to get them both something to eat.
“You hungry? You don’t look like you’re starving, you’re actually kind of fat…”
The cat wasn’t really that fat but he looked well-fed and Jungkook didn’t think he was a stray.
"Who’s your owner, big guy?” Jungkook said to it as he chopped up a mango. The cat sat on his counter, long black tail swishing back and forth, acid green eyes fixed on the mango. “Don’t wanna say? That’s fine. Whoever he is, I bet he’s an asshole. You should stay here with me.”
But the cat didn’t end up staying. After hanging around his bungalow for a few hours, lounging in Jungkook’s lap, the cat suddenly got up and headed away down the beach, prowling along the sand like a miniature panther.
He never saw the cat again.
Still, the bizarre encounter with the cat had given him a boost of energy. And he had realized that there was no reason for him to give up just yet. There was still a small corner of his heart that hoped and dreamed and lived for Taehyung.
He could wait. For years on end if that’s what it took.
But maybe he needed a hobby.
What that would be, he didn’t exactly know. His previous life hadn’t allowed for a lot of leisure time, besides visits to the Bird Cage. And that was certainly out of the question. No, he needed something productive, something that would keep his hands busy and his mind occupied so he wouldn’t slip into despair again.
Not knowing what else to do, he started an intense workout routine that involved getting up at the crack of dawn to do a series of push ups, pulls ups, and lunges until his muscles burned and his body was coated in a sheen of sweat. He ate a breakfast of fruit and granola while he cooled off and then went out for a morning swim, diving beneath the sun-sparkled waves to see how far he could swim down before having to come up for air, each day pushing himself a little farther. In the evenings he went for a jog along the beach, with nothing but the stars to light his way.
It was on one of these nighttime jogs that Jungkook almost tripped over an old abandoned fishing boat and, on a whim, decided to take it home with him, dragging it along the sand, the muscles in his arms straining.
The next morning, in the full light of day, he inspected the boat to find it mostly intact, if looking a little worse for wear, the originally white paint now yellowed and flaking off. So, mostly because Jungkook had nothing better to do, he decided to fix it up, give it a fresh paint job.
Instead of white, Jungkook painted it in stripes of rich plum, acid green, bright turquoise. They clashed horribly but the colors reminded him of Taehyung; made Jungkook feel a little bit closer to him.
Once the boat was fitted with a brand new motor, Jungkook went out on the water, not to fish but just to explore around the coast, go wherever the waves might take him. And it’s on one of these excursions that he nearly collided with another fishing boat, this time manned by an actual fisherman.
“I’m surprised I didn’t see your boat,” the man said in English, laughing cheerfully over the fact that they had nearly crashed into each other. “It looks like a parrot threw up on it. Who painted it?”
“Uh…I did.”
“Shit, really?” The man frowns, studying the vivid shades of Jungkook’s boat as they bob next to each other. “Hey, you want to paint mine? Maybe not those exact colours but something that would make it stand out at the dock? All of our boats look the fucking same, I want to be able to tell mine apart.”
“...sure. I’ll paint your boat for you.”
“Yeah? I can pay you for it.”
“That’s not necessary. No charge.”
The man, named Makoa, tried to pay Jungkook anyway but when Jungkook still refused his money, he insisted on giving Jungkook some fresh fish in exchange for painting his boat a sunny yellow. And then another fisherman approached Jungkook at the docks when he had been painting Makoa’s boat, asking Jungkook if he would paint his boat next.
“Can you paint my boat red and purple? Like a two-tone thing? For my little girls, those are their favorite colors.”
And so Jungkook found himself unexpectedly running his own boat painting business.
He still refused to take any money from them because he had no need for it, still had plenty left over from his mob days, enough to last him a lifetime. But they pay him in fish and good company, insisting on taking him out to a local tiki bar every Saturday for a beer. They call him ‘the Tiger man’ because of his tattoo, or just ‘J’ if anyone asks for his name. Jungkook enjoyed his time with them, figuring that a little socializing couldn’t hurt, as long as they don’t ask him any personal questions and they almost never do. Whenever the subject of women comes up, Jungkook just quietly sips his beer and lets them talk, letting them assume whatever they want to assume about him.
So that’s how he spends his days on the island; working out in the morning, heading out to the docks to slap a coat of paint on one of the fishermen’s boats (only bright colors; no neutrals), and then returns to his private stretch of beach with some fish to cook, always making enough for two in case Taehyung should show up.
Except he hasn’t. Not yet.
But even as he waits and longs to see Taehyung every day, missing him more than ever, Jungkook feels a sense of peace as he goes about his days now, a slight easing of the ache. Painting the boats keeps him occupied, the hot sun beating down on him and he feels satisfied once he’s completed a job, proud to have transformed something with nothing but a few cans of paint and a paintbrush.
His hair grows long enough that he gets in the habit of pulling some of it back into a top knot to keep it out of his face and he’s currently in the best shape of his life thanks to his intense fitness regimen, his entire body lean and roped with muscle. Not that he was out of shape before but these days he actually feels healthy. Relaxed. No longer tense and pissed off, seconds away from exploding.
He still wears the red and blue bracelet around his wrist, the one that serves as a reminder of his commitment to Taehyung. It’s possible Taehyung has removed his own bracelet and moved on but the thought doesn’t bother Jungkook as much as it did before. He knows Taehyung doesn’t belong to him, is free to live his own life. If anything, it’s the other way around; it is Jungkook who belongs to Taehyung, body and soul.
I’m here and I’m yours, he’ll think late at night when he’s lounging on the futon, staring up at the moon. And I’ll love you forever, until the universe ends.
It brings him a strange sense of comfort that the moon that hangs over him is the same one that Taehyung sees at night, that no matter how far apart they are, they will always share the same sun shining down on them.
It is on a day six months, three days, and seven hours since Jungkook sent his letter to Taehyung, that he finds himself sitting on his private beach, watching the sunset, soft blue fading to pink fading to orange, painting the ocean a shimmering gold.
The moon is in the sky already and Jungkook is fascinated by this for some reason, and he keeps looking between the setting sun and the rising moon, suspended in perfect balance.
He wonders how Taehyung would paint a scene like this and he glances down at the bracelet around his wrist, feeling his throat tighten. Maybe Taehyung is painting something right now, something beautiful, his hands speckled with color, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he concentrates. And if Jungkook was there with him, he’d walk up to him, slip his arms around his waist from behind, plant a soft kiss on the nape of his neck and Taehyung would turn and smile at him…
He’s startled out of his fantasy by a high-pitched barking noise and turns to see a small ball of black and tan fur barreling across the sand straight for him, a pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. The dog gallops up to him, barking and barking, licking frantically at his arm, shoving its cold, wet nose against his skin.
Jungkook sighs. “Hey, Yeontan,” he says, scratching his ears. “You’ve gotten big. Relatively speaking.”
He turns to gaze out at the horizon again before the full realization hits him and he looks back at the dog, gaping at him. “Yeontan?”
Yeontan yips at him, panting eagerly, doing a little doggy prance on the sand.
But if Yeontan is here, then that means －
He whips his head around, looking around wildly before he sees him coming around the side of the bungalow, his expression searching, worried－
Their eyes meet and Taehyung’s smile lights up Jungkook’s entire world.
And then he’s on his feet, running, tripping over the sand in his haste to get to Taehyung and Taehyung is sprinting towards him too until they’re colliding with each other, enfolding one another in their arms, just clinging and clinging and clinging.
Please don’t be a dream, Jungkook thinks as they both fall to their knees, still holding onto each other, oh god, please don’t let this be a dream, please let this be real--
Taehyung laughs softly in his ear and it’s the most beautiful sound Jungkook has ever heard in his entire life. “It’s real,” he says, and Jungkook realizes that he’s said those words out loud. “It’s real, I’m here, god, Jungkook, I’m sorry that it took me so long－”
"I don’t care about that,” Jungkook says, pulling back so he can look at Taehyung’s face. God, his beautiful face, his eyes filled with tears that are spilling down his cheeks, lips stretched in his bright, boxy smile, the exact same one that Jungkook has carried in his heart all this time. “I just care that you’re here with me now.”
“Here to stay,” Taehyung whispers, reaching up and caressing Jungkook’s cheek, wiping away the tears that are streaming down Jungkook’s face. “If you still want me to.”
A sob catches in Jungkook’s throat and he can only nod, keeping his arms wrapped around Taehyung, keeping him close. “I love you,” he manages to gasp out, pressing his forehead against Taehyung’s. “God, Tae, I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.” Taehyung nuzzles him, rubbing their noses together. “I never stopped loving you, Jungkook.” He exhales shakily, running his hands through Jungkook’s hair. “Not for one second.”
“Me too,” Jungkook murmurs. “Every day, my only thought was how to get back to you. How to get back here with you.”
“I know. I was the same way these last few months. I wanted to come as soon as I got your letter but I had something I needed to see through until the end, but, god, there were days when I just wanted to leave it all behind and hop on a plane to come be with you.”
Jungkook shakes his head, feeling like his heart is expanding inside his chest, filling his entire body with joy. “Doesn’t matter,” he breathes. “I would have waited a thousand years for you, Tae.”
“Jungkook…” Taehyung gazes at him, his eyes alight with love, the warmth shining in them putting the very sun to shame, “…kiss me.”
Their lips meet in a soft, precious kiss while the sun and the moon look down on them from high above, caressing them in gold and silver light.
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Epilogue
One year later…
Jungkook makes his way along the path towards town, Yeontan trotting by his side. Taehyung’s art class should be done in about fifteen minutes or so but he always likes to get there early, see what the kids have done, let them all pet and cuddle Yeontan for a few minutes before they head home.
His heart pounds in his chest as he walks in the shade of the palm trees, thinking about the special evening he has planned for them, rehearsing it in his head. Hopefully, tonight he’ll be able to finally get the words out, ask Taehyung the question he’s been meaning to ask for so long.
A few minutes later, Taehyung’s art gallery/teaching studio comes into view, a modest little one-story building that had originally served as a cafe that was only open during tourist season. Taehyung had bought it, the two of them had renovated it and now Taehyung used it to show off collections by local artists, teach kids how to paint and draw, free of charge. Taehyung had named it The Bluebird Art Studio and anyone with a passion for art was welcome.
Jungkook hears the sound of the kids’ laughter as he approaches the door, his lover’s voice raised slightly above it, just enough to be heard. “Okay, you guys, it’s time to start cleaning up…”
There’s a chorus of disappointed ‘awwwwws’ as Jungkook walks in and then another series of more enthusiastic ‘awwws’ as the kids spot Yeontan and rush over to pet him.
“Ah, ah, clean up first, please,” Jungkook says to them, scooping up Yeontan in his arms, holding him hostage from the kids’ eager hands. “Then you can pet him.”
It’s incentive enough for the kids to skip away and hurry to clean up their stations, each one wanting to be the one to be able to pet Yeontan first. Taehyung wanders over to him, greeting him with a smile and a quick kiss. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Jungkook grins at him, slipping an arm around his waist, pulling Taehyung a bit closer. “What’d you guys paint today?”
Taehyung opens his mouth to answer but then a little girl, around nine or ten, comes up to them, holding up her painting. “We painted tigers!” she says eagerly. “Or…what do you call them in Korean again, Mr. Kim?”
“Holang-i,” Taehyung tells her, granting her a warm smile. “And your holang-i turned out so beautiful, Malia.”
"Not as beautiful as you, my little tiger,” Jungkook whispers to Taehyung in Korean as Malia trots away, giving his waist a squeeze and Taehyung blushes, rolling his eyes.
Once everything is put neatly away and the kids have nearly snuggled Yeontan to death, they all bid Taehyung and Jungkook goodbye, scampering away to their respective homes, all of them eager for the next class.
“Good class?” Jungkook asks, taking Taehyung’s hand in his as he goes around the room, inspecting the paintings. A lot of the tigers are painted the typical orange and black that one might expect, but he notices that a couple are done in more fantastical colours, bright purple, or black with rainbow stripes.
“Yeah, it was fun,” Taehyung says, beaming around at the paintings. “I think I might show them a dragon next week. Dragon,” he says again, saying the word in English. “Am I saying that right?”
“Mm hmm,” Jungkook says, unable to help from grinning. “You sound really fucking cute when you speak in English, baby. You know that, right?”
“Shut up,” Taehyung says, swatting him on the arm. “I’m not trying to sound cute, I’m trying to sound fluent.”
“You are fluent,” Jungkook reassures him, kissing his cheek. “I’d say your English is better than mine by now.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Am not.”
"Are too.”
“I dunno,” Jungkook says slyly, moving behind Taehyung and slipping his arms around his waist. “When you talked dirty in English the other night, it sounded pretty fucking good to me…”
“Mmm…you would say that…”
Taehyung turns towards him and their lips meet in a deep, sensual kiss, Jungkook slipping his tongue inside Taehyung’s mouth, eliciting the softest of whimpers from him. But he pulls back before things can get too heated between them.
“I was thinking we could take the boat out tonight,” Jungkook whispers, nuzzling Taehyung’s neck. “Bring some food with us…make love out on the water…”
“Sounds wonderful…” Taehyung says, a slight hitch in his voice. “Guess Tannie will have to sit this one out.”
“Well, yeah. Remember what happened last time?”
Taehyung giggles. “Good point. Guess we have to leave you at home, fluffball,” he says to Yeontan and Yeontan yips in agreement.
Taehyung goes around the studio, doing some last minute tidying up and Jungkook wanders over to the gallery section, frowning when he notices one of Taehyung’s paintings is missing.
“Hey, what happened to your painting? The one of the whale in the clouds?”
“Oh, it sold,” Taehyung replies, flicking off the lights. “One of the kids’ dads wanted it for his wife.”
“How much you sell it for?”
“Fifty dollars.”
“Fifty dollars?” Jungkook turns to face Taehyung, incredulous. “It was worth at least fifty thousand, Tae.”
“Oh, whatever, I’m not going to put such a ridiculous price on it. I want my art to be enjoyed, not bought by some rich snob as an investment so it’ll be locked away in a vault somewhere. Besides, I have too many paintings cluttering up our place, I need to get rid of some.”
“Your art could never be clutter, Tae,” Jungkook says, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back over to Taehyung. “I always enjoy looking at it.”
“I know,” Taehyung says, giving him a shy smile. And then his expression turns mischievous. “And you get to look at it for free. So consider yourself lucky, boss man.”
They shut down the gallery and then head back home, Yeontan running up ahead of them as they meander down the path, hand in hand.
“I’m looking forward to tonight,” Taehyung says, taking a second to roll his sleeves up. “What kind of food do you want to take with us? I’m thinking something simple, like maybe just a fruit salad, you know, chop up some mangoes and kiwis, I know we still have some left in the fridge…”
Jungkook’s gaze snags on the scars on Taehyung’s arm for a split second, that old familiar guilt rising within him for a moment before fading away again. There’s nothing either of them can do about the scars they still bear; Jungkook’s still got the one on his stomach, in addition to the scar on his chest, from where the bullet had entered him. Taehyung still wears long sleeves whenever they’re out in public, especially at the art gallery but when it’s just the two of them on their private beach, Taehyung allows Jungkook to strip him naked, press his lips to each cruel reminder of the pain he had gone through. Of the pain they had gone through.
But the memory of the pain only makes Jungkook that much more grateful for their present happiness, grateful that Taehyung was still here beside him. And he realizes suddenly that he can’t wait until tonight to ask him. He can’t wait another second.
He stops walking and Taehyung takes a couple of oblivious steps before he feels the tug of Jungkook’s hand and stops too, turning to look at him, a puzzled look on his face.
“What is－”
“Tae,” Jungkook says softly. “Will you marry me?”
Taehyung doesn’t answer. But the kiss he gives Jungkook, soft and featuring the curve of his smile, is answer enough.