Archive of Our Own

All Seokjin wanted to do was get back to the station, coerce Jimin to write the report on the murder case they were finally able to solve and go back home and sleep. He hasn’t been able to sleep properly for days and after cracking the case, he had a strong desire to indulge himself a little (maybe wear his favourite fluffy robe, sip on wine and not watch the news). He deserves it.

However, the moment he steps out of the car in front of the station the hair on the back of his neck spikes up at the sight of the man wearing a leather jacket and leaning on the pillar in front of the building with one knee bent on the wall.

“Hey, handsome,” the man drawls with a smirk, Seokjin has the greatest desire to turn around and hide in the trunk of the car. “Feels like I haven’t seen that pretty face in a while. Think we could catch up over coffee, love?”

Behind him, Jimin snorts. Definitely remembering how just last night in front of all the officers, the man attempted to manipulate Seokjin into spilling the details about the latest development on the case by blurting, “I could ask dad to issue a written order to give me everything I need but I like to think you like me enough to do it simply because I’m asking nicely,” then raising an eyebrow, “or do you want me suck you off under your table? I could do that too.” Honestly, it’s the audacity (and the lack of respect, both kinds) for Seokjin.

Not surprisingly, Seokjin’s ears burn. And not because he feels flattered. He doesn’t have the energy to cope with any more nuisances tonight after chasing the culprit for at least two kilometers on foot before Jeongguk oh-so-generously blocked his path with his motorcycle like a dignified hero with a smug grin. Definitely not enough to indulge Min Yoongi of all people. He may not suck Seokjin under the table, or any circumstances really, but he does suck the patience out of him on a regular basis.

Seokjin pretends Yoongi doesn’t exist and wraps his coat tightly around himself and proceeds to walk inside, loudly fake-sniffing in the cold. Jimin, cackling, follows him right behind. He feels dread creeping up on him when he passes by Yoongi. Maybe if he slumps a bit and looks the other way, Yoongi will leave him be. But Yoongi clicks his tongue loudly before grabbing a hold of Seokjin’s elbow, making him stop in his tracks. Damn it.

“Dinner’s on me this time,” Yoongi persists.

Seokjin tries to latch on to Jimin’s shoulder, who is now walking past him, but Yoongi yanks him back to himself and his precious Jimin slips away through his fingers. Without a way out, Seokjin clears his throat.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never even seen you in my entire life,” he looks everywhere but in Yoongi's direction.

Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat, “even better. We’ll get to know each other on the date.”

Seokjin tries to break free. Fails miserably. “I have paperwork to finish.”

“I know you’ll just make Jimin do it,” Yoongi sighs at last. “Look, I need inside information to make the story more captivating. And since you’re my fiancé, I was hoping you’d give me something exclusive for our agency.”

Seokjin internally grimaces at the word ‘fiancé’. He has stopped fighting Yoongi’s grip on him and so naturally Yoongi’s fingers around his elbow start to grow lax. “It’s confidential information. And we’ll hold a press conference tomorrow so you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi straightens up, looking alarmed. “No, no, no. You don’t understand. I want it now, right this moment. So we can be the first ones to publish the full story.”

Seokjin finally faces Yoongi and frowns, “and as I’ve told you before, you will not get any special privileges just because we’re-” he cuts himself off before he can finish the sentence, “-because of your affiliation with the former chief.”

Yoongi scoffs, this piece of shit. Mutters, “honestly, will you ever break? You’re a fucking brick wall.”

Seokjin’s face burns again. This time with vexation. “Should’ve thought thrice before agreeing to marry one, then.” He chances a glance at the door leading to the station. As he expected, Jeongguk is wrapping a hand over Jimin’s shoulder as both of them are standing by the door and grinning in their direction like the shameless trolls that they are. He’ll teach them a lesson. He yanks his elbow away from Yoongi’s hand. “Good luck with the story. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.”

Seokjin had always known Yoongi was not one to settle down with one person. He wasn’t one for commitments. From what Seokjin has seen during the years of his stay with them, Yoongi never had a proper boyfriend or a girlfriend either, just screwed around with whatever breathed when he was a teenager. In a way, he’s still like that (not that Seokjin is any revered saint himself).

Back when Seokjin was given vacations while he was still at the academy, Chief Min Byunghun would bring him back to their house so he could stay and rest and have proper food to eat instead of surviving on instant ramen. Seokjin remembers how the former chief would always complain about how much trouble Yoongi had put him through while growing up, at the dinner table, and laughed out loud retelling the same three stories for the thousandth time.

So when after a week of consideration, Yoongi called both his father and Seokjin to inform them that he wants to accept the marriage proposal, Seokjin was more than merely shocked. He was electrocuted with a high voltage lightning, his life flashed before his eyes.

He couldn’t figure out Yoongi’s motivations and had nightmares for two weeks straight about Yoongi pressing a pillow on his face while he slept. So after having had enough, one fine day, he mustered up the courage to ask Yoongi why he agreed and Yoongi just shrugged and nonchalantly admitted, “I’m hoping to use you to get exclusive information.”

And in that moment, Seokjin realized that he was doomed for life.

Which is why, around Yoongi, he’d always had his guards up, trying to avoid him as much as the ring on his finger allowed him (Yoongi, on the other hand, tried using it to its full advantage). But Yoongi was relentless. He used new tactics every time hoping that Seokjin would finally break. The first time Yoongi took Seokjin out on a date before the engagement, he tried to seduce Seokjin into giving him the details of the serial arson case he was in charge of at the time. Good thing Seokjin caught on quick and all Yoongi managed to do was give him a wet, sloppy, open mouthed kiss on the side of his jaw before Seokjin forcefully pried him away.

Yoongi should be used to Seokjin’s refusal to cooperate with him after all this time. He should have stopped trying to break Seokjin’s walls a long time ago. But Seokjin has an uncomfortable inkling, a working theory that Yoongi does it because he simply enjoys getting on his nerves and puts him through embarrassing situations in public on purpose.

Because there is no other explanation for when Seokjin finally broke the stairs and almost grabbed Jimin and Jeongguk by their ears for laughing at his misery, Yoongi’s hands wrapped around his waist from the back and smiling, he says, “You’re so hot for shooting me down like that. I’ll let you bend me over the kitchen counter tonight, I swear.”

After all this time, Seokjin should be immune to his antics. But his ears burn again. “For fuck’s sake,” he curses. And not because Jimin and Jeongguk escaped his wrath.

—

Seokjin just wants to sleep in. Wrapping up a case is just as harrowing as solving it. Press conferences, trials, reports, dealing with the media. A case closes, another one pops up. There is very little window in between to rest. So whenever he does find it, he likes to sleep.

Which is proving to be a problem at the moment because a certain someone is continuously ringing the doorbell. At first, Seokjin thought that if he ignored it long enough, he'd take the hint and go away and went right back to sleep. But the ringing doesn’t stop. In his disrupted, half-ass slumber, the beat of the incessant ringing of the doorbell sounds suspiciously like the opening theme of Pokémon. He could be wrong though, he’s no musical genius after all.

The ringing stops, Seokjin sighs contentedly. But he never has the chance to revisit his lost la la land, because now, his phone is ringing instead. Seokjin groans, blindly grabbing towards the direction the sound is coming from. He finds his phone under his spare pillow and opens one eye. Yoongi, it says, displaying a picture of the menace himself blowing a kiss, a photo Yoongi set himself. Seokjin cuts the call without hesitating.

Not even half a minute goes by before it rings again. Seokjin curses, shoots up from his bed and picks it up.

“I will block you,” he grumbles into the phone, “I will sue you for causing me emotional distress.”

Yoongi snorts on the other side, says slowly, “hey, good morning to you too, cupcake.”

Seokjin rubs his sleepy face.

“What do you want?”

“Can you at least open the door first? What kind of person treats their betrothed like this?” Yoongi pauses to catch his breath, then says, “hurry up, people are giving me weird looks.”

Seokjin throws the blanket off of himself, looking around for his t-shirt. “You probably deserve whatever judgmental daggers they’re throwing at you.”

Yoongi scoffs on the other end, surprisingly with a bit of difficulty, “what’s taking you so long?”

Seokjin stops in front of his mirror, combs his fingers through his hair to tame the wild bird’s nest. Yoongi, that royal piece of ass, rings the doorbell again.

“Jesus, just wait. I’m coming.”

Yoongi, honest to god, giggles, “that’s what he said.”

When Seokjin thinks his hair looks decent enough, he finally approaches the door and cuts the call. He throws open the door, ready to tell Yoongi that he acts worse than a child sometimes but he stops in his tracks at the very sight of him. His throat constricts. The dread that was wafting through the air seeps into his lungs. No wonder people are giving him weird looks.

Yoongi was probably wearing a white shirt at some point. But it doesn’t matter now because half of his shirt is now covered completely in blood. His hair is stuck on his forehead. A trail of sappy, red liquid trickling down the side of his face. Yoongi’s breathing is heavy, so is his slow blinking, seemingly trying to focus hard. His stance is slouched and he is loosely grabbing his left elbow with his right hand, still somehow managing to clutch his phone and grinning.

Seokjin stops breathing, silently berating himself for not responding to him earlier. Because what the fuck?

“Hey, handsome.”

“What happened to you?” Seokjin reaches out to hold Yoongi by his shoulders and pulls him inside. Yoongi winces at the contact. “Yoongi?”

“Dad will,” Yoongi pauses to catch his breath, “kill me if I go home like this,” he manages to follow Seokjin’s lead into the house, “and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Seokjin pulls Yoongi closer, barely bothering all the blood. In his line of work, Seokjin has seen enough blood to last him a lifetime. It doesn’t faze him anymore. He walks backwards, continuing to guide Yoongi past the living room and towards the kitchen. Yoongi follows like a lost puppy, he probably doesn’t even know where he is.

Yoongi is no stranger to trouble. From getting into fights with bullies at school to getting involved in brawls with local gangsters during his early twenties, his portfolio is quite impressive.

One time Yoongi punched a suited guy on the face because he was misbehaving with the lady who was selling tangerines. The man pressed charges. It was a bit of a hassle for Yoongi’s dad to bail him out. But it was Seokjin who brought him back home because his father refused to do so.

That night, Yoongi got home and tried to fight with his dad. Screaming about how that man should be the one behind the bars for using foul and derogatory language to an innocent person. Chief Min didn’t scream or yell back, he just sighed and absorbed Yoongi’s rage. Which, in turn, enraged Yoongi even more. Seokjin still lived with the Min’s during his vacations back then. So he heard a glass being shattered from his room right before Yoongi’s heavy footsteps climbed up the stairs before disappearing down the hall.

But despite all of the trouble Yoongi got himself into, it barely ever ended in him being drenched with blood. Seokjin becomes a little concerned when he asks Yoongi to sit on the counter and Yoongi wraps his good arm around his waist instead, burying his face in Seokjin’s chest. Seokjin feels as though he should hug Yoongi back, pull him close. But he doesn’t. That’s not who he is. Not to Yoongi. Never was.

Seokjin’s hands stay limp by his sides. “On a scale of one to calling the ambulance to calling your dad,” Seokjin starts, “how worried should I be?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer and Seokjin wonders if he’s still conscious. He knows how it looks, him being indifferent to Yoongi’s distress. But Seokjin has learned a long time ago to not get actively involved in Yoongi’s business despite working in the law enforcement. Yoongi had made it clear that he can clean after his own mess. And he shouldn’t care what odd hobbies Yoongi is pursuing these days.

“Yoongi?” he calls when Yoongi doesn’t answer.

“How worried do you feel?” Yoongi mutters at last. So low that Seokjin almost misses it.

Seokjin doesn’t mull it over. Doesn’t have to. “Can’t say much.”

Yoongi’s attempted laughter turns into a pained groan halfway through. He pulls away from his unrequited hug. “I’ll stab you if you call dad.”

“So the ambulance it is, then.”

“I’ll shoot you with your own gun.”

Seokjin takes in Yoongi’s appearance again. A knot is starting to form in his stomach and he doesn’t know why that might be. He’s immune to it all. “What happened to you?”

Yoongi pulls a stool from the counter and tries to sit on it and almost slips. As a knee jerk reaction, Seokjin steps forward to help him up. But Yoongi holds up a hand, making him pause. Yoongi closes his eyes. “Got into an accident.”

“No shit,” Seokjin walks to the cabinet to bring out the first aid kit instead. “What kind?”

“Gunshot. Flesh wound. Left arm.”

But that doesn’t sound like a regular accident. Seokjin’s stomach flips as he whips around. “What the fuck were you doing?”

“Filming a-” he starts but immediately cuts himself off, “nevermind.”

Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head. He knows better than pestering him about it. Yoongi has an annoying habit. Whenever something makes him distressed and Seokjin, out of sheer politeness, asks if anything is wrong, Yoongi gives him a dirty look and goes, “why do you care?”

Never mind that Seokjin is supposed to marry him someday and spend the rest of his life with him. And he thinks that they should at least try to understand each other before the day eventually comes. So that they don’t end up even more miserable than they already are. But fuck all of that and more, really, because Yoongi is never satisfied with the answer he provides.

Seokjin puts the first aid kit on the counter. “You need to clean up first. Are you sure you don’t want me to call the ambulance?”

Yoongi nods and slowly hops off the stool, “go back to sleep. You look like you’re mad you couldn’t see the end of your badass dream. I’ll clean and patch myself up.”

Seokjin doesn’t reply. He quickly grabs a set of clothes from his own room and watches as Yoongi waddles towards the living room and crosses his arms. “The bathroom’s the other way, Yoongi.”

Yoongi stops and looks back over his shoulder, embarrassed, “I know that.” He changes direction and starts for the right direction this time. He is leaving a trail of blood on the floor and Seokjin can’t help but wonder what a pain in the ass it’d be to clean that up.

When Yoongi disappears out of his sight, Seokjin picks up his phone and immediately calls Jimin. Jimin picks up after three rings.

“Hyung, what’s up? Thought you’d be resting today.”

Seokjin rubs his face, cranes his neck to check whether Yoongi is still in the bathroom or not.

“Yeah, I was. Until someone decided to show up.”

Jimin chuckles on the other side, “he can’t stay away from you, can he?”

Seokjin walks around the counter and grips the edge with hand. “More like he can’t stay away from trouble.”

Jimin stops laughing. His tone is low when he asks, “hyung, what is it this time?”

“Gunshot. Flesh wound on his left arm,” Jimin gasps on the other side, mutters a fucking hell. Seokjin closes his eyes and sighs, “not sure where he got that from. Which is why I called.”

Jimin ruffles some papers on the other side, “I’ll check if there’s been any witness report of it.”

Seokjin is so grateful for Jimin’s existence. “He didn’t give me anything except that maybe he was filming something.” Jimin hums, “so check if anyone has mentioned any camera on the victim’s hand. Or a phone, I don’t know. Anything really.”

“On it.”

“And let me know as soon as you find anything.”

“Will do, hyung, don’t you worry.”

Seokjin isn’t worrying, he is just doing his duty as an officer. It has nothing to do with Yoongi personally. It is simply out of occupational concern.

“Thanks, Jimin-ah.”

Seokjin waits around for Yoongi to come out, but he doesn’t. Which is fine actually, there was a lot of blood. Yoongi is probably taking his sweet time using his favourite body wash from Seokjin’s collection. He pours himself a glass of water right before his phone rings again. He eyes the screen over the rim of the glass and almost chokes on water seeing who called.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, breathing in and out, preparing himself for lying through his teeth before he picks the phone up because the man who’s calling can detect the stench of bullshit from miles away. Plastering a fake smile on his face, he receives the call.

“Good morning, abeonim.”

Min Byunghun shuffles on the other side, “morning Jin-ah. You’re up unusually early on your day off.”

Seokjin laughs nervously, off to a great start, “ah, yeah. It’s become a habit to wake up at this hour.” he blurts before he can even stop himself. He regrets it immediately. His soon to be father-in-law knows him well enough to know that Seokjin would never waste a day off by waking up at ass o’clock. He probably already knows that he’s lying. He tries to change the subject. “How are you doing this morning? You haven’t forgotten to take your medications, have you?”

The sound of a door closing comes through the speaker. Min Byunghun hums, “I may be old, son, but my memory is still sharp as a stick.”

Seokjin smiles, then realizes that he can’t see Seokjin through the phone, “of course, sir. It was my mistake to assume anything else, sir.”

Min Byunghun chuckles, the sound soon falters and Seokjin dreads his next question. He cranes his neck again to see if Yoongi is coming out of the bathroom or not. “Well, Jin-ah, I actually called for a reason.” He doesn’t wait for Seokjin to answer, “Yoongi didn’t come home last night. Do you know what happened or where he might be? I called him several times but he never picked up. Even after all these years, he still makes me worry sick.”

Seokjin bites his bottom lip, plotting the most absurd lie he’s about to tell his already suspecting future father-in-law. Seokjin knows that growing up, Yoongi has traumatized his father with how much trouble he got himself into. Chief Min was worrying about his son twenty-four hours a day. Poor man still can’t sleep properly at night when Yoongi is not at home.

Seokjin clears his throat, trying to sound convincing, “he stayed over last night, actually.”

Silence thickens through the phone. Seokjin hopes with his entire existence that his voice didn’t shake. Min Byunghun seems to think something. “Really?”

Huh. “Yes, abeonim.” Seokjin knows he has to be precise when he’s lying. Be precise, don’t give him more information than necessary, be confident. It’s a bit easier to lie on the phone since he doesn’t have to make eye contact.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s still sleeping, abeonim.”

“Yeah? Where?”

Well, shit. What an awkward question to ask your son’s fiancé. But this one’s on Seokjin, he fucked up at the very beginning. Now, he could say that Yoongi slept in the guest room. But that might backfire because why would Yoongi come all the way to Seokjin’s place only to sleep in the guestroom? So, there is one way out. Make your future father-in-law uncomfortable enough to make him stop interrogating.

Seokjin clears his throat, closes his eyes, “on my bed, abeonim.”

Min Byunghun stays silent for so long that Seokjin doesn’t know if he should ask if he’s there. He clears his throat finally, “he’s still sleeping, you say?”

“Yes, abeonim.”

“He should be up by now, though, he’s an early riser. Did you two switch routines or something?”

Seokjin breathes in long and hard. Doesn’t know why he’s holding back now that he already hinted on what they did (or didn’t do) last night.

“He’s just a little,” Seokjin finally breaks and pauses, “tired. I think. Not too much, though,” he mentally punches himself in the face. “Don’t worry, abeonim, he’ll be up soon.”

Min Byunghun exhales on the other side, “well, if you say so. Make sure he eats breakfast when he wakes up. He didn’t even come home for dinner. Did he eat at your place?”

Seokjin frowns a little, but doesn’t let it affect his voice, “well, we went out for dinner last night actually.”

“Ah, that makes sense, I guess. I’ll leave you guys then. And take care of yourself too. Don’t let Yoongi ruin your day off.”

Seokjin feels a little relieved, “yes, sir!”

Min Byunghun chuckles on the other end and before he cuts the call Seokjin hears an amused, “kids these days.”

Seokjin starts fidgeting when half an hour passes by and Yoongi still doesn’t come out of the bathroom. He starts pacing back and forth, he should probably go and check if everything is alright. But he also doesn’t want to walk in on anything he is not supposed to witness. A naked Yoongi, for example, would scar him for life.

In the end, he gives into his sense of dread and hurries to the bathroom. Surprisingly, Yoongi didn’t even remember to lock the door. But knowing him, he probably left it open on purpose. Seokjin still knocks.

“Yoongi?”

No answer.

“Yoongi, are you alright in there?” He asks again. “Do you need anything?”

Yoongi, for once, doesn’t quip with a witty remark. Which is the one thing that finally starts to worry Seokjin. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Seokjin pushes the door open, “if you’re naked, please cover yourself.”

Seokjin walks in carefully, taking in the splashes of bright red against his stark white bathroom. Yoongi’s clothes are scattered all over the floor. His blood soaked shirt, dark pants, undershirt, underwear. A glint from the basin on the side catches Seokjin’s eyes. He turns his face and sees Yoongi’s silver engagement ring sprinkled with blood. Min Yoongi took his ring off? That’s a first. The uncomfortable dread turns into a full on tummy flip.

The bathtub was probably half filled with water at some point, but now it’s all red. Yoongi is underwater up to his chest, his head tilted on one side as he leans on the edge of the tub. His face is clean, so is his hair. But Seokjin can clearly see the wound on his left arm.

“Shit,” Seokjin bends down by the side of the tub, pressing two fingers on Yoongi’s pulse point. Whispers, “please tell me you’re not dead.”

He isn’t. But Yoongi’s eyes are closed as he lies passed out in Seokjin’s bathtub.

—

Usually, Seokjin doesn’t abuse his powers. He knows he can get advantages simply by stating who he is. Usually, he doesn’t do that. But this is a bit complicated.

In hospitals, gunshot wounds are…frowned upon. The immediate reaction would be to call the police, inform them about the victim and they’ll handle the rest of the complications. But Yoongi demanded discretion. When he wakes up and finds himself safely tucked inside the clean blankets of the hospital bed, he won’t thank Seokjin for saving his life. Yoongi will probably threaten to kill him six ways to sunday.

Which is why, Seokjin pulled some strings, showed his badge at the reception and told everyone concerned to keep Yoongi’s condition a secret. He called Jimin when he was waiting outside while Yoongi was getting treated. Jimin didn’t find anything, which was immensely disappointing. “Yet,” Jimin assured him, “I didn’t find anything, yet.”

Yoongi is lying down on the bed now looking like a corpse. Seokjin is watching him from the couch on the side. Yoongi’s lips are chapped, ashen. A band-aid on one side of his forehead. His breathing is steady now. Seokjin is still in the dark about what happened to him, where he was, how he got shot. Despite it all, Seokjin would be lying if he said he wasn’t, at least, a little worried about him. He exhales and drags a hand down his face.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d honestly think you’re worried about me,” Yoongi suddenly mutters in a raspy voice, eyes still closed. Seokjin lets out a short chuckle, shakes his head in amusement.

“I think you’re still dreaming.”

Yoongi opens his eyes to look at him and tries to laugh. He winces instead, “an angel waiting for me to wake up in the hospital? I really must be dreaming.”

Seokjin doesn’t dignify that with a reaction. He stands up and walks up to Yoongi instead, stopping by the side of the hospital bed.

“Sounds like you’re perfectly fine.” Seokjin shoves his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, “so do you want to tell me what happened or do I have to officially take up the case?”

Yoongi blinks up to him, “are you asking me as a suspect or are you asking me as the love of your life?”

Seokjin tilts his head, “I will take you to the station and lock you in for days until you give me an answer if I have to.”

Yoongi chokes on his laugh, “I’m not opposed to the idea, to be honest. But you should smile a little when you say stuff like that. Make it sound more sexy. Not that you don’t already. But you know, more.”

Yoongi is a lost cause at the moment. Seokjin doesn’t press for now. Yoongi tries to wiggle to check if anything is broken. “You feel alright?”

“I think I have a few broken ribs.”

Seokjin shakes his head, taking a seat on the small spot by Yoongi’s legs. “You're fine, idiot. The doctor said nothing is broken.”

“Yeah? But what does he know about my heart?”

Seokjin blinks. Yoongi is smiling up at him like a creep. He is clearly in the wrong ward of the hospital. Maybe Seokjin should talk to the doctor about Yoongi’s psychological evaluation.

“He said you don’t even have to stay here. You’re good to go.” Yoongi sighs and closes his eyes. Seokjin stares at his face, “By the way, your dad called.”

Yoongi’s eyes shoot open again, he wiggles and tries to sit up. Seokjin quickly stands up to help, gently holding on to Yoongi’s uninjured forearm and his back to help him lean halfway back on the bed. Seokjin walks back to sit on the bed again.

“What did you tell him?” Yoongi asks with wide eyes, it’s comical, with his hair sticking up in every direction possible. He almost laughs at the sight. Almost.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Of course, I do, Seokjin.” Yoongi sighs, “look, I can’t possibly go home like this. So you need to tell me what you told him so we can align our stories. You know how dad is.”

Yoongi looks a little desperate. Maybe Seokjin shouldn’t torment him with suspense as he originally planned to. He’s sick after all.

“I told him you stayed over at my place last night.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen even more, “really? And he bought that?”

Seokjin shrugs, “don’t know. At least he pretended to.”

Yoongi leans back and closes his eyes again. Seokjin notices how little he’s moving his left hand. On the hospital bed, in the ugly hospital gown, Yoongi looks like the trouble he so often gets himself into. The gauzes wrapped around his shoulder, the band-aid over the tiny nicks all over his skin. Some of them will leave hypopigmented scars. Yoongi could use the reminder.

Seokjin often has trouble wrapping his head around the fact that he’s going to marry Yoongi one day. Yoongi’s father sometimes makes the two of them join him for dinner and discreetly asks when they actually plan on getting married. Yoongi usually shrugs and says, “soon, dad,” and Seokjin just nods along. They haven’t actually talked about setting a date, despite being engaged for more than a year now. Soon never comes soon enough. His dad just sighs and lets it go.

Yoongi’s ring is inside Seokjin’s pocket now and he’s rolling it between his fingers.

“Do you have a place to go?” Seokjin asks, fooling himself for the millionth time into thinking that he should put a bit more effort into their…whatever this is.

But Yoongi being Yoongi, opens his eyes and gives him a dirty look, “why do you care?”

Typical. Seokjin scowls, “I wish I didn’t, trust me. But you’re already in the hospital all drugged up and if anything else happens to you, believe it or not your dad will kill me.”

Yoongi laughs mirthlessly, “stop using my dad to justify your actions.”

Heat spreads across his face, “I really don’t know what else you want to hear.”

“Sure you don’t,” Yoongi scoffs and then suddenly looks down, frowning. “Uh, Seokjin?”

“Mhm?”

“Where’s my ring?”

So Yoongi doesn’t even remember that he took it off. Seokjin bites the inside of his cheeks, pushing the ring onto his own index finger inside his pocket. “It’s your ring, how would I know?”

Yoongi throws the blanket off of himself at lightning speed, groans and stumbles to the cabinet at the corner. Seokjin stands up then, hands still inside the pockets and tries really hard not to laugh as he watches Yoongi pounce around the room in search of his ring at every place possible. Yoongi even takes the flowers out of the vase to check if it’s in there. He doesn’t ask who brought them, though, and Seokjin doesn’t offer that information himself.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses, mutters to himself, “did I lose it?”

Seokjin stands at one corner and bites his bottom lip. Yoongi wobbles around the bed and suddenly looks at him, “you’re being awfully quiet.”

Seokjin schools his expression, “when am I not?”

Yoongi squints, “why do you look like you’re trying really hard not to laugh?”

Seokjin maintains eye contact, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi walks slowly and stops in front of him, gives him a poorly done stink eye like the child that he is and points a finger over his eyes, “take your hands out of your pocket, Kim Seokjin.”

Seokjin slowly and carefully splays all his fingers and takes his hands out. He pretends to do the “hands up” motion and hides his hands behind his head. Yoongi doesn’t notice the ring on his index finger and is clearly distracted by searching for it in his empty pocket. He shoves his hands inside every accessible pocket in Seokjin’s outfit, front and back, patting his torso up to his chest. And then sighs when he comes up with nothing.

Seokjin watches with amusement at first, when Yoongi curls his lips like a heartbroken child and slumps. Amusement gives way into irritation when Yoongi’s shoulders silently shake and Seokjin thinks he’s laughing for no reason. Then irritation morphs into concern when Yoongi sniffs and without any warning Seokjin’s stomach lurches. Yoongi was always sensitive. Is very sensitive.

He ducks his head to level with Yoongi’s eyes, checking if his suspicion is right or not. Exactly how much did they drug him? “Yoongi?”

“One word and I’ll kick your ass out the window,” Yoongi rubs his nose with the back of his hand. He looks up and Seokjin’s world tilts a little sideways. Red eyes and nose, literal tears streaming down his face.

“You’re crying,” Seokjin can’t help but state the obvious, his mouth hanging open.

“Unlike you, I have a lot of emotions, dipshit.”

Seokjin has no explanations for what he does next. But later, he’ll think about how water breaks down the molecular bonds of a brick, seeing Yoongi’s tears made him go soft as well. He feels kind of stupid at this point. Seokjin doesn’t think he actually thinks when he brings his hands in front of him and cups Yoongi’s face.

He isn’t used to comforting Yoongi, or anyone at all. That’s not his job. He feels tongue-tied, at a loss for how to do this.

“Your ring is safe,” Seokjin tries to look into Yoongi’s eyes but ends up focusing on his nose instead.

All of a sudden, Yoongi snorts. “What? Like you kidnapped it?”

Seokjin lets go of Yoongi’s face and brings his index finger in front of his eyes.

“And I’m asking for ransom.”

Yoongi eyes the ring on his finger and frowns up at him, “name your price.”

If Seokjin was thinking clearly he would’ve snagged up a more practical deal. Maybe ask Yoongi to either tell him how he got shot, what he was doing or ask him to leave him alone. But at the moment, Seokjin is thinking, alright. And not with his brain (not even with his dick, shut up brain).

“Come home with me if you have nowhere else to go.”

In the blink of an eye, Yoongi’s frown softens. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re kind of in love with me, darling.”

Seokjin frowns and takes a step backwards, “don’t push it,” and Yoongi laughs.

—

When Seokjin first met Yoongi, the latter was fifteen and covered in mud from head to toe.

Seokjin was sitting on the sofa in the living room trying to make sense of all the sudden changes in his life. Chief Min was sitting on the opposite side, explaining something about why he wanted Seokjin to live with them for the time being. In that moment, the door opened and in walked a scrawny boy with a basketball in his hand, looking worse than a deadbrain zombie.

Seokjin remembers the disapproving look Yoongi had given him before asking, “who the fuck are you?” Seokjin didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Because Chief Min had given Yoongi an earful for speaking like that with the guest who was going to stay with them for a while. For the longest time, Yoongi never went out of his way to make conversation with Seokjin even though they lived together. Yoongi had always been stubborn like that. That much hasn’t changed.

“You need to call your dad, Yoongi.” Seokjin is exasperated, “he’s been worried sick since last night.”

Yoongi is pacing around in Seokjin’s bedroom, biting his nails. He stops and bares his teeth, “if I knew this is why you brought me here, I never would’ve accepted your offer, you sly fox.”

Seokjin stands up, “you know he will get suspicious if you don’t at least call him.” he procures his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it, “here, I’ll call him on my phone and talk to him first and then you can tell him you’re staying here.” Seokjin pulls up the contacts on his phone when he suddenly remembers it. “Oh, just so you know, I told him that we had dinner together last night.”

Yoongi fidgets, tapping his foot, “cool.”

“And that we also slept together?”

Yoongi’s mouth comically hangs open, “we did what?”

Seokjin’s face burns, but he dismissively waves his hand, “you passed out in my bathroom, I think it’s close enough.”

“No no, hold on,” Yoongi’s mouth suddenly stretches wide and a cold shoots up Seokjin’s spine. “You really told my dad that you dicked me?”

To say that Seokjin feels scandalized would be an understatement. “That is not how I phrased it.” He watches as Yoongi approaches him with a big gummy smile on his face. Yoongi stops in front of him and uses his good hand to pat Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Yah, I’m actually so proud of you.”

Seokjin pries himself away, “please do not touch me.” But Yoongi’s smile doesn’t falter, if anything, it widens more. Seokjin finally hits the call button and presses the phone by his ear, feeling Yoongi’s intent stare on his face. Min Byunghun picks up after the third ring.

“Hello, Seokjin-ah.”

“Abeonim, hello. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Seokjin can hear the sound of tap water stop on the other side, “what’s going on?”

“Well, uh,” Seokjin closes his eyes, ignoring Yoongi who is staring at him at the moment, “would it be okay if Yoongi stays here for a while?”

“Seokjin.” Min Byunghun’s voice is so stern that Seokjin jumps at the tone. He gulps.

“Yes, sir.” He blurts and Yoongi immediately doubles over.

“Is everything alright? Where’s Yoongi?”

Seokjin runs a hand over his face, “he’s right here. He wanted to talk to you. Which is actually why I called.”

“Give the phone to him.”

Seokjin hands the phone over to Yoongi, who, at the moment, is not even trying to hide his glee at Seokjin’s misery. Seokjin scowls at him when Yoongi presses the phone to his ear and sticks his tongue out.

“Hey, old man,” Yoongi listens to the other end, “yes, I’m okay, dad….when will you stop worrying about me?....no, seriously, this is why your hair is turning grey so soon…what? no! I’m not annoying Seokjin…”

Seokjin decides to give them some space and walks out of his room.

No matter how much stress Yoongi liked causing his father, he really loves his old man. Growing up with them, it was an interesting study of his character for Seokjin. Yoongi had his moments, threw tantrums left and right. But at the end of the day, he came back to his father in one piece without any complaints. In the rare moments when he did have a proper conversation with Seokjin, Yoongi told him that he was grateful to his father for everything he does and not leaving him like his mother did, but sometimes, it does feel a little suffocating.

Seokjin still thinks Yoongi was drunk during that conversation, but Yoongi insisted otherwise.

Months after Seokjin officially moved out, Yoongi called him at two in the morning asking if he knew where his father was because he wasn’t picking his calls. Chief Min was busy with a robbery case and had to pull an all-nighter with the rest of the team, of which, Seokjin was a member. Seokjin spent twenty minutes trying to convince Yoongi that his father was in a meeting and that’s why he couldn’t receive his calls. But Yoongi was paranoid and straight up called Seokjin a liar. In the end, Seokjin had to meekly call Chief Min out of the meeting and make him speak to Yoongi just to placate him.

Seokjin wasn’t complaining. He was just glad that Yoongi reciprocated the sentiment. And maybe he was a bit envious, but that was his problem.

He pours himself a glass of water as he sits on a chair by the kitchen counter, recounting how he just spent his day off outside anyway. He has to go back to work in the morning and god only knows what he’s going to do with Yoongi. He didn’t realize how much time had passed and that Yoongi was done talking to his father until he feels two hands snaking around his waist and a cheek pressing against his back.

“What got you thinking so hard, handsome?”

“Make some noise, will you?” Seokjin exhales as he puts the glass down, “I almost thought a ghost was trying to seduce me.”

Yoongi hums, “I’m so tired,” he mumbles, “can I sleep in your bed?”

Seokjin tries not to focus too much on the warm breath on his back, or on the warmth of Yoongi’s palms seeping through the fabric of his shirt. It never bothers him. He doesn’t know why it would start now.

“I was thinking you could stay in the guest room?” he doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but it does anyway like he’s not so sure himself. Yoongi tightens his hands around him, pressing himself even closer. Seokjin closes his eyes. It’s one thing when Yoongi does it when everyone is around, Seokjin knows that Yoongi will stop at one point. But being all alone with each other is a different story. “Yoongi.”

“Your bed smells more like you. I like it.” Yoongi then reaches up and holds Seokjin’s chin from the back, turning it sideways so he has a view of Seokjin’s profile. “Even though I should slit your throat for taking me to the hospital, thank you for today, love,” he says, before pressing his lips to Seokjin’s cheek.

Seokjin’s ears burn, he tries to catch his breath, “I was just doing my duty.”

If living with the Min’s had taught him one thing, it’s that never let your guards down. There had always been something looming over their heads, especially when it came to Yoongi because he was the son of a man who had made quite a few enemies in his line of work. Which is one of the primary reasons why Chief Min was always protective of his son.

Seokjin idolized him, in his eyes, Min Byunghun was the standard he wanted to hold himself up to. In a way, it might be why he feels protective of Yoongi too. Despite everything. He remembers the fight that broke out in their neighbourhood, of which, Yoongi was the center. Even after all these years, Seokjin still isn’t sure how it started. But he remembers Yoongi with a bloody nose, his shirt being grabbed onto by some boy whose looks screamed bad news.

He still isn’t sure what went through his head when he did it, but he remembers running up to the commotion and before he knew what he was doing, his fist made contact with the face of the boy. After returning home, Yoongi yelled at him for interfering in his business, told him off, and said how Seokjin had no right to do what he did because he had it all under control. Seokjin shot back for once, saying that Yoongi looked as though he was already half dead. And Yoongi just curled his fists and bit through his teeth, why do you care?

“Oh?” Yoongi leans his forehead on Seokjin’s back, “almost thought you cared about me.”

Seokjin reaches down and slowly pries Yoongi’s hands away, careful with his injured one. Yoongi groans in protest. “Go to bed, Yoongi. It’s been a long day.”

Yoongi walks backwards, Seokjin turns and watches him. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“You’ll kick me in your sleep.”

“Tie me up so I can’t.”

An image shoots straight up Seokjin’s brain, clenching his stomach. He ignores it because Yoongi says things like this for shits and giggles.

“Keep dreaming.”

Yoongi simply grins, “it’ll come true one day. I know it.”

Seokjin doesn’t reply to him, instead, he goes back to his glass of water.

—

Jeongguk greets him with a pat on his back when Seokjin pushes through the door of the station.

“Wow. You look even worse after your day off.”

Seokjin wraps his arm around Jeonnguk’s neck and catches him in a playful headlock. “Say that again and I’ll throw you behind the bars.”

Jeongguk groans, trying to get away from him. Seokjin lets him go when he sees Jimin approaching them. “As much as I’d like to witness Jeongguk’s downfall,” he says, waving a file in front of his face, “we got a new case, boss.”

The white board is filled with photos of the missing woman. Early twenties, straight dark hair, crooked teeth. “Seo Saeron. 22 years old. She’s been missing since last week,” Jimin explains.

Jeonnguk frowns, “what took them so long to file a report?”

“Apparently,” Jimin holds the edge of the table and leans on it, “she does this sometimes, disappears without a trace. But she always returns after a couple of days. So her family thought it was one of those cases until a week went by.”

“It says she was last seen at the Gyeongdong market?” Seokjin flips the pages of the file.

Jimin nods, “her phone was last traced in Gyeongdong market.”

Seokjin hums, looking “have you visited the place yet?”

Silence falls in the room, Seokjin is very used to it. So he doesn’t even bother looking up when Jeongguk suddenly stands up, pushing the chair back. “I just remembered I have to write a report,” he blurts before running out. Seokjin sighs.

“Damn it.” Jimin stomps his foot.

Gyeongdong market is bustling even at midday. There are too many people, too many stalls. Seokjin curses inwardly, this is going to be a pain in the ass. Jimin leans back on the hood of the car, “so.”

“Yeah. So.”

Jimin sighs, knowing exactly the kind of dread he’s feeling, “the sooner we start asking questions the sooner we’ll find answers.” Seokjin nods, mentally preparing himself for a long day. He starts walking towards the market with Jimin right behind him. But he doesn’t get to enter through the gates before a voice stops him.

“Don’t bother. No one even remembers her.”

Both of them stop in their tracks. Seokjin whips his head around first but it’s Jimin who says, “Yoongi hyung?”

Yoongi gives him a smile, “hey Jimin,” then glances at Seokjin, “hey, cutie.”

Seokjin doesn’t even bother with a reaction. Yoongi isn’t alone. He has a camera in his hand, probably got it from his office after he left this morning. But there is another man with him. He’s tall and has long legs, wears glasses and his cheeks dig into deep dimples when he smiles.

“Jin hyung! Jimin! It’s been a while.”

Seokjin frowns, “Namjoon, Yoongi, what are you guys doing here?”

Yoongi ignores him and looks through his camera but Namjoon answers, “I think we’re looking for the same person.”

Jimin frowns this time, “Seo Saeron?”

Namjoon nods, pushing his glasses up his nose, “we just talked to every stall owner here. No luck.”

What bothers Seokjin more is how Yoongi and Namjoon got here before they did? More importantly, how did they even know about Seo Saeron? Not to mention, yesterday's events where he had to literally take Yoongi to the hospital and lie to his father about it. Yoongi shouldn’t even be out of his bed today. But he almost threw a tantrum this morning until Seokjin caved and told him he can go to work as long as he stays indoors. He should’ve known Yoongi wouldn’t listen to him. So what exactly is going on here? It’s Jimin who voices his thoughts.

“But how do you know about her?” he approaches Namjoon, “we just got the report today.”

Namjoon looks at them both, then chances a suspicious glance at Yoongi. Yoongi finally looks up and locks his eyes directly with Seokjin.

He’s wearing Seokjin’s black hoodie, the size so big it swallows him whole. Seokjin had no choice but to lend him his clothes because Yoongi didn’t have his own. It’s probably better this way, the bigger clothes will give his arm some breathing room. An uncomfortable feeling pits in Seokjin’s stomach as Yoongi continues to stare. He clenches his jaws and holds Yoongi’s gaze strongly and asks, “what are you up to?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Beside him, Jimin tenses up. In front of him, Namjoon shifts his weight on another leg before telling Yoongi, “hyung, I think we should tell them.”

Seokjin scowls, becoming more and more irritated with the two. Fucking investigative journalists. They’re never up to any good. And fuck Yoongi too. Who the fuck knows what kind of mud he’s dipping his toes in this time. Seokjin always feels on edge with Yoongi, feeling even more so after yesterday. If anything happens to him, he can never show his face to his father again.

Namjoon sighs again, “Yoongi hyung, I think it’s about time we tell them.”

Yoongi is still holding Seokjin’s gaze, “I don’t want his help.”

Seokjin feels both Namjoon and Jimin’s eyes on him from his periphery. Yoongi has a death wish, as it seems. But it’s a bit strange. Yoongi never cowers from trying to take advantage of Seokjin’s position for whatever story he’s working on. Or, at least, asking to. So why is he rejecting it now? This is why Seokjin wasn’t aware of whatever it is that Yoongi has been up to something.

It can’t go on like this. “Should I arrest you for withholding critical information for a case, then?” he schools his expression, still staring Yoongi down, “is that what you want? Sounds like whatever it is that you know is directly related to Seo Saeron’s disappearance.”

Around them, cars honk and people chatter away. One or two people seem to feel the bit of the tension hanging among the four of them, they stop and stare for split seconds before noticing a badge hanging onto Seokjin and Jimin’s belt and scurrying away.

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the thought, Namjoon mutters a curse. Seokjin turns around and opens the door to the driver’s seat before looking over his shoulder, “get in before I cuff you both.”

Back at the station, Jeongguk is drinking strawberry slush with his legs crossed and perched over the table. It’s been a slow day and he successfully swerved his way out of boring duties. His Jimin hyung can handle things much better than he can anyway. So when the door opens only an hour later and in comes Jimin with his hands mussing up his hair, Jeongguk straightens up and almost falls from the chair in the process. But that’s not even the most surprising part.

Because behind him is Min Yoongi and behind Min Yoongi trails Kim Namjoon. Jeongguk stands up abruptly, scowling as Seokjin finally enters as well.

“Are you two even allowed in here?”

Yoongi and Namjoon follow Jimin into Seokjin’s office but when they pass Jeongguk, he hears Yoongi mutter through gritted teeth, “zip it.” Whether it sends a chill down his spine and makes him shiver, he will never tell.

Seokjin takes his seat and motions the two journalists to take theirs on the opposite side of the table as well. Jimin sits on the trunk at the side of the room, right beside Seokjin’s own chair. “You guys want anything?” he asks.

“No, thank you.” Namjoon smiles just as Yoongi grumbles, “yes, coffee.”

Seokjin makes a quick call and asks for coffee. He knows Yoongi drinks decaf these days so he doesn’t even bother asking. After he’s done, Seokjin leans on his side of the table and interlaces his fingers.

“Now, I know Yoongi is a lost cause,” he looks at Namjoon, Yoongi scoffs, “but Namjoon, I expect you to tell me everything you know.”

Namjoon sighs, taking a deep breath. Yoongi seems to be fuming beside him but Seokjin doesn’t pay any heed. “So, the thing is,” Namjoon starts, “Seo Saeron isn’t the first person who’s gone missing.”

As far as Seokjin is aware, there haven't been any missing person reports in the recent past. Jimin catches on as well. “But we’ve never had a report before?”

Namjoon nods, leaning in, “we know. Because the kids who went ‘missing’ are mostly orphans and runaways. They don’t have anyone who would report them.” Seokjin narrows his eyes, noticing Namjoon’s curious emphasis on the word. Namjoon continues, “and I don’t mean missing in the sense that they’ve been kidnapped or anything,” he pauses, briefly glancing at Yoongi who is now staring down, seemingly focusing on nothing, “the group of people who Seo Saeron hung out with? They’re involved with the illegal selling and consumption of drugs.”

Jimin stands up, “what the fuck?”

Seokjin leans back on his seat, Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, “so these kids didn’t actually go missing, per se, they chose to join the ring and left willingly. Most of them have changed their names already. And Seo Saeron is one of the only ones in the group with a family. Hence, she was reported missing.”

Seokjin slowly swivels his chair left and right, “how did you guys figure it out?”

Namjoon fully turns to Yoongi, looking desperate, “hyung, I really don’t want to have prison in my resume.”

Yoongi exhales dejectedly, thumping the palm of his good hand on the glass table, “fuck, fine.” Seokjin looks at him, “I was looking for a story to cover, and picked a case the police ignored.” He looks up and locks eyes with Seokjin, “there have been incidents, small ones, around the whole city. In isolation, they seem like petty crimes that don’t need much investigation. Much once you pick up all the pieces and start to connect the dots, they create a bigger picture.”

Seokjin listens intently as Yoongi continues, “so, a couple of months ago, I reported two stories of kids overdosing on a certain substance. And by kids, I mean 18 to 23 year olds. Either fresh out of high school or just graduating college.” Seokjin vaguely remembers hearing about it. The case was taken up by the narcotics division. “For some reason, after the second report, the police stopped investigating.”

Seokjin turns to Jimin. Jimin shrugs, shaking his head. Yoongi scoffs.

“I’ll tell you why. Whoever is running the business bought them out.” Seokjin bites his bottom lip, Yoongi is getting riled up, “so I took matters into my own hands and found out about it. They’ve created some new drug and are targeting this age demographic as the market. I’m not sure what they’re calling it yet, but word on the street is that it’s blue.”

Jimin brings a leg up on the trunk, “and you were trailing Seo Saeron because…?”

Yoongi fiddles with the camera, “I could say it’s for collecting evidence but honestly, it’s more of a personal interest.” Yoongi looks up, smiling sadly at Jimin, “I can maybe presume why the rest of the kids joined the ring, but I wanted to know how she got involved in this. It’s a good introduction for the story as well. A young college student with a loving family getting her hands dirty? There’s a whole mystery in there itself.”

Journalists and their hunger for stories. Seokjin doesn’t blame Yoongi for diving deeper into this mess. He, of all people, would be the biggest hypocrite if he said he didn’t understand the mind numbing urge to look for answers. But he can’t help the anxiety that creeps up on him when he thinks about Yoongi traipsing around some of the most dangerous parts of Seoul equipped with nothing but his camera.

A knot forms in his throat, he can’t ignore it even if he tries to. “Yoongi.”

Yoongi faces him again, “yeah.”

“Where were you two nights ago?”

Namjoon rests his elbows on the table and buries his face in his palms. Jimin holds his breath. Yoongi blinks slowly at Seokjin.

“I was filming some of the kids buying the drugs.” Yoongi’s face doesn’t bear any expressions, “they saw me and I ran. But they followed me.” Yoongi stops to take a breath, but Seokjin stops breathing, “they, um, they shot at me and it grazed my arms and I fell.” Jimin gasps from the side, Seokjin clenches his jaws, “but I managed to hide behind an alley. Stayed there for the rest of the night and then found my way to your place.”

Seokjin can’t feel anything. The room is air conditioned but he’s breaking out in sweats. Yoongi almost died. That’s Min Yoongi. Former chief Min Byunghun’s only son. His fiancé. He wears the ring Seokjin gave him like it’s a lifeline and he almost died. Right under his nose. And then he waltzed into his house all smiley and flirty like he missed Seokjin on a sunday morning. Seokjin knows Yoongi is a magnet for trouble but this? This is going a bit too far even for him.

“Jimin?” His voice is stern.

“Yes, hyung?”

Seokjin keeps his gaze on Yoongi but he tells Jimin, “please take Namjoon to the lounge and order lunch for him. And lock the door on your way out.”

Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice.

The silence that stretches in the room is so thick, it can only be cut through with a saw. “You know, if you wanted to be alone with me you could just take me home.” Yoongi’s voice drawls through it, “we have your entire apartment to ourselves.”

“You can’t keep doing this.” Seokjin bites through his teeth.

“I can and I will,” Yoongi sneers.

Seokjin presses on, “drop the story.”

Yoongi leans over the table, “bold of you to assume I’ll drop a story I worked my ass off to uncover just because you asked me to.” Yoongi is seething, “how dare you even ask that? Who do you think you are?”

Seokjin abruptly stands up, the chair pushed back, “you almost fucking died, Yoongi!” he breathes hard, “how badly do you think it’d break your father if anything worse happened to you? I can’t keep lying to him!”

This time, Yoongi stands up, the chair screeches, “why are you always talking about my father?!” He shouts, not caring that there are other officers outside who can probably hear everything. He never did. “Your father this, your father that. We’re fucking engaged, Seokjin! I’m going to marry you someday. But whenever something happens you bring him into this. Do you not care even a little about me yourself?”

Seokjin has no answer for this. Yoongi continues, “has it ever occurred to you how your fiancé almost died? And not your former boss’s son?” Yoongi’s lips quiver, “I know my dad loves me more than anything else in the world. You don’t have to remind me at every chance you get.” Seokjin curls his fists at his side. Yoongi walks around the table and jabs a finger at his chest.

Seokjin can see the very moment Yoongi’s eyes start to glisten. “I just wish you acted like you cared about me because you want to and not because your father-in-law will kill you if you don’t.” His face goes red, “and you,” Yoongi bites, sniffing, “don’t get to ask me to drop a story when you don’t even give a fuck about what happens to me!”

Seokjin doesn’t know how to react to that. It’s not true, is it? Seokjin has always looked out for Yoongi.

Granted, he did it behind the shadows and Yoongi probably has no idea how one time Seokjin made Jimin follow him home every night for a month when a serial killer was thought to have been on loose. Yoongi probably doesn’t know how Seokjin bribed Jeongguk with lamb skewers to beat up the potential stalker who often followed Yoongi around. Yoongi probably doesn’t know how it was less dramatic sometimes, when Seokjin would sneak a lunch pack in the bag Yoongi took to his classes. And how it was Seokjin who threatened the bully in his class to break his legs if he didn’t apologize to Yoongi.

Seokjin has always cared about Yoongi. Just not in the way Yoongi expected him to. Maybe he should sometimes. Try a little harder. But he still feels a bit exasperated because Yoongi is making it seem like he is the only one at fault here. He wraps his hand lightly around the finger Yoongi points at him.

“But do you?” Seokjin asks softly, “do you give a shit about me? Isn’t this supposed to be a two-way street?”

Yoongi tries to pull his hand away, but Seokjin tightens his grip by interlacing their fingers, “do I not shamelessly flirt with you enough? Put my dignity out there for you to tramp over with your fucking boots as much as you want?”

Seokjin wants to laugh, really wants to laugh. “But it’s to break down my walls. You don’t do it because you give a shit about me, you do it because you care more about your job. You told me you agreed to marry me so that you can use me to avail confidential information.”

Yoongi laughs mirthlessly in his stead, “but was I ever able to?” he bites through his teeth, “after all this time, Seokjin, did you ever give me anything you didn’t provide to the general public?”

Now, Seokjin feels stupid, his voice comes out raspy when he whispers, “no.”

Yoongi manages to yank his hand away then, and takes a step back. “So why do you think I still do it?” Seokjin looks down, feeling like a complete idiot. “Don’t you think I could access anything I want in here if I just use my father’s name?” Seokjin looks up at Yoongi again, his face has fully gone pink, “I don’t fucking need you for my job, Seokjin! I just wanted you to be there for me!”

Seokjin never overtly comforted Yoongi, it’s simply not who he is. People have different ways to show it and he has his own. Yoongi isn’t right in his accusation either. Because he forgets that it’s hard not to feel a sense of devotion for people who provide you with food and shelter when you’re suddenly stripped off of them. It’s impossible not to feel a silent tenderness for the ones you’ve shared a roof with for years.

Yoongi will never know how Seokjin felt like he was betraying his father’s kindness when one time he caught Yoongi making out with a boy in the empty halls of their school and silently wished it was him instead. Yoongi will never know how much courage it took to let his desires go just because he understood he couldn't have everything he wanted in this life. And Yoongi will never even begin to understand how desperately Seokjin wanted to say ‘no’ to his father when he tearfully requested Seokjin if he could marry and take care of Yoongi in his place, because Seokjin didn’t think he’d be able to give his son the kind of love he was used to growing up.

It’s probably better that he doesn’t know. Not everyone has to share the same kind of sufferings.

There are other officers outside who heard the entire conversation, but Yoongi is no stranger to causing a scene and Seokjin is used to all of it at this point. So it barely bothers him when he steps forward and pulls Yoongi close by his shoulders, slowly and carefully, so as to not hurt him.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to bury his face in Seokjin’s chest when Seokjin threads his fingers in Yoongi’s hair and keeps him there. His other hand around Yoongi’s back and Yoongi’s hands wrapped around him as well.

“I went to your house instead of Namjoon’s yesterday because having a near death experience scared me so much,” Yoongi sniffles, “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was your stupid fucking face.”

From his periphery, Seokjin notices Jimin, Namjoon and Jeongguk turn their face and scatter away from the outside and he tightens his hold on Yoongi and rubs his hand on his back.

Yoongi speaks again, “I went to your house all bloodied and you didn’t even offer to help me clean up.” Seokjin wants to dig a hole in the ground the size of the grand canyon and jump and die. “I wanted you to hold me as I slept last night and you didn’t even go into your room to check if I was sleeping alright.” Yoongi stops to breathe, and then, “do you hate me that much?”

Seokjin takes a deep breath. If this is how Yoongi feels, then Seokjin definitely failed them. He doesn’t know how they ended up like this. Yoongi in his arms, injured and crying. All he wanted to do was guard his own emotions and protect Yoongi from the shadows. What he didn’t realize was that in the process of it all, he ended up hurting Yoongi.

Yoongi pulls away and looks up at him. Seokjin’s hands move on their own volition when he cups Yoongi’s face and thumbs the tears away. Seokjin doesn’t hate him, far from it actually. But he doesn’t have words, he doesn’t even have a voice. Yoongi smiles sadly when he doesn’t answer.

“We can call off the engagement if you do.”

And that does it for him. Seokjin parts Yoongi’s lips with his thumb before leaning in to kiss him slowly, hoping that it’d get his point across. He tastes salt but Yoongi’s lips are just as soft as he thought it looked back then. Yoongi opens his mouth easily for him, their tongues connect and Seokjin wonders if the world stops turning for a second. Because it sort of feels like that. Like his pulse ceased. As Yoongi kisses him back softly and ardently like he’s been dreaming of kissing Seokjin for a long time and doesn’t want to ruin it by making haste.

Seokjin tilts his head and deepens the kiss, pulling Yoongi even closer by the jaw and he wonders why he ever stopped thinking about kissing Yoongi in the first place. He should’ve done it a long time ago. He should’ve done it when they got engaged. He should’ve done it when Yoongi came running to him. Seokjin can’t believe he ended up kissing Yoongi in his office instead. The scandal of it all.

They part when breathing becomes a little hard, but their lips stay touched, not quite wanting to let go. Yoongi breathes into Seokjin’s mouth and Seokjin closes his eyes one more time before taking a backward step.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

In the night when both of them return home, Seokjin asks Yoongi to stay in his room again. But Yoongi refuses, insisting that he wants to stay in the guestroom because he needs some space. Seokjin doesn’t press much, knowing exactly when to leave Yoongi alone.

But in the middle of the night, Yoongi does sneak into his room and curl up by his side. They don’t talk but some time later, Yoongi takes Seokjin’s hand and drapes it around his own waist. Seokjin doesn’t protest, doesn’t pull away. He breathes in the smell of his own shampoo in Yoongi’s hair instead.

He could get used to this.

—

The thing is, Seokjin could never say no to Min Byunghun.

On that awful morning when he was taken to the station, it was Chief Min who asked him if he had any relatives he could stay with, He didn’t. So Min Byunghun took it upon himself to take care of Seokjin for the time being.

Seokjin was sixteen, brutally orphaned and very grateful to know there were still at least some iota of kindness left in the world. Living with the Min’s wasn’t always fun, but it wasn’t terrible. He had a roof over his head and food on the table. But he missed his parents, and cried himself to sleep some nights.

Then one day after the trials ended and Chief Min successfully sent the perpetrator in prison for life, he sat Seokjin down and asked him if he wanted to stay with them permanently. At first, Seokjin hesitated. He noticed the shadow of the chief’s son standing behind the walls of the living room and eavesdropping on them. Seokjin didn’t want to invade, didn’t want to feel like an outsider. Min Byunghun could read the hesitation in his eyes and assured him, “don’t worry about Yoongi. I talked to him about this already.” In the end, Seokjin relented.

He couldn’t say no to Min Byunghun when one night, only a few weeks after his retirement, he invited Seokjin over and asked what he thought about Yoongi. Seokjin had no idea where it was going at first and thought he wanted a general answer. So Seokjin blabbered something super vague about how Yoongi was a good person with a penchant for dramatics, Min Byunghun laughed out at first.

He sobered up quickly and leaned over on his knees and asked him, “Jin-ah, you like men, don’t you?”

It’s a rather funny story of how he found out in the first place. Seokjin was nineteen and wanted to explore his own sexuality. Then there was Yoongi who occasionally popped into his head without any warning at odd times. So he dug around a bit and found out through a neighbourhood acquaintance about this really shady, low-key bar that catered to men only.

So one fine, curious night, he went there with his acquaintance, wanting to have a fun, carefree night without being judged. But luck clearly wasn’t in his favour. It all happened so fast and before he knew what was going on, a fight broke out among some people and someone panicked and ended up calling the police. It was just Seokjin’s incredible luck that Chief Min just happened to be on duty in that particular neighbourhood.

He didn’t talk to Seokjin inside the bar, though, Seokjin did feel a sense of dread when Min Byunghun saw him. But the chief never made a big deal out of it. He took Seokjin back home and only asked if he was hurt or not. He never questioned what he was doing there in the first place. He never even mentioned it to him. That is, until, when he asked about Yoongi.

Seokjin listened to Min Byunghun in a trance, when he told him how he was getting old and still spends most of his time just worrying about his little brat. He teared up by the time he held Seokjin’s hand and practically pleaded whether he can marry Yoongi and take care of him in his stead, because there is no one else he trusts more.

It wasn’t even a question for Seokjin. He never really believed that he could repay the debt he was in with the Min’s. The kindness they showed when no one did. So he thought maybe this was a way he could finally repay them. Even if it meant putting himself in the middle of this drama.

Yoongi, as usual, threw a royal tantrum. Yelled at his father for making big decisions like marriage on his behalf, before yelling at Seokjin for accepting the proposal. Then lord knows how it happened but Yoongi started a job in this bigshot news agency the following week and magically changed his mind.

Seokjin never said no to Min Byunghun and so when the former chief called him and invited him to lunch along with the menace himself, he immediately said yes. Now, Yoongi isn’t very happy about it. He’s still hurt and has to be very careful when moving about. Not to mention, the band-aid that still decorates the side of his glorious forehead is a dead giveaway that something definitely went wrong.

When the door opens to reveal the very familiar face of Min Byunghun, Seokjin offers him a smile before leaning in and giving him a hug while Yoongi scowls and breezes into the house like he owns it (which, he does in a way).

Seokjin kicks off his shoes and enters, locks the door behind him as he follows. Min Byunghun follows Yoongi into the living room and laughs when Yoongi dramatically lays down on the couch, bouncing a little as he falls.

“Ah, home sweet home.”

Min Byunghun ruffles Yoongi’s hair before leaving for the dining room, “and here I was getting used to the peace and quiet.”

Seokjin watches the frown on Yoongi’s face as he stands up and follows his dad, “you didn’t miss me at all, did you?”

Min Byunghun’s face peeks out behind the wall of the dining room, “no, not at all. Why would I?”

Seokjin follows Yoongi as the latter pulls a chair out and sits down. Seokjin goes around the table to help his father set the table. Yoongi, the sensitive little shit, scoffs, “I was just gone for a few days and you already forgot about me.”

Well, off to a great start.

Min Byunghun hands a few plates to Seokjin before resting his hands on his hips, “yah, how many times did you call me?” and Yoongi just scrunches his face and his dad scowls, points at his head, “what happened? How did you get hurt?”

Seokjin doesn’t make a single sound as he sets a plate in front of Yoongi, he doesn’t even look at him. Yoongi simply rests his chin on his palm and says, “it’s just a simple scratch, dad. Nothing serious.”

His dad clears his throat and turns to Seokjin, “Kim Seokjin?”

Seokjin stiffens, blurts before he can even stop himself, “we were just playing around, sir.”

“Yah,” he warns.

“Abeonim.”

Seokjin doesn’t even need to look at Yoongi to know that he’s raising an eyebrow at him. Min Byunghun finishes setting the table with various dishes. He approaches Yoongi and tries to flick away his hair, “come on, let me see.” But Yoongi makes a karate pose with his hands and stops him from getting any closer. His dad sighs, “what were you even playing in the house for him to get hurt?”

Seokjin’s entire face burns. Yoongi just snorts, “not tic-tac-toe, dad.”

Min Byunghun watches Yoongi with a very concentrated face as Yoongi innocently blinks up at him. Seokjin doesn’t know what to do, so he awkwardly pulls out a chair and sits down beside Yoongi. There is definitely an awkward silence that hangs among them. The clinks of the chopsticks and spoons too loud, the food too hot to be eating quickly.

So Yoongi uses his spoon to spread the rice and Seokjin uses his chopsticks to get himself more kimchi when Min Byunghun clears his throat.

Yoongi mutters, “oh no.”

“I think I need to address the elephant in the room,” his dad puts his spoon down. Seokjin’s hand stops midair. “And I’ll be super direct.”

Yoongi exhales, “dad.”

“Do you plan on actually getting married or are you going to keep me in stress forever?”

Seokjin slowly puts his precious kimchi down, knowing for sure that there is no way this food will find its way into his stomach anymore.

Yoongi looks up at his father, “I told you, we’ll set a date soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for over a year now,” his father crosses his arms, “and now you’re having fun even living together. So why not just make it official?”

Seokjin chokes on the food he didn’t get to eat. This day keeps getting better and better. He knows that it’s only a matter of time before Yoongi bursts. The delicious looking food stares up at him, he feels sad they’ll be left uneaten. Beside him Yoongi starts to fume.

“Stop pushing us, okay?” He sets his spoon down, “we’ll get married when we’re ready.”

Min Byunghun rests his hands on the table, “look, son, I’m getting old-”

“You were the youngest dad out of all of my classmates' dads,” Yoongi cuts him off, “you had me too soon-”

“- and we never know when what will happen or not-”

“-you’re fine. You’re perfectly healthy, you’ll be fine-”

“-and I just really want to see you settling down before-”

“Stop it, dad!” Yoongi grits his teeth and abruptly stands up, agitated, pressing his palms on the table, “nothing will happen to you, okay?”

His father looks helpless in front of his son’s stubbornness. He seems as though he was about to say something else, but he changes his mind halfway through and says softly, instead, “I just really wish you listened to me for once.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenches, “I agreed to marry Seokjin, didn’t I?” he breathes hard, “I just need a bit more time to prepare myself before I officially settle down, because marriage is scary and you never know how these things will turn out in the end.”

Ouch. Seokjin wasn’t planning on getting personally attacked today. But no one is paying attention to him at the moment, saving him the embarrassment. Min Byunghun smiles very sadly up at his son.

“Yah, Yoongi-ah, just because your mother left me doesn’t mean every marriage ends like this.”

At that, Yoongi thumps both of his hands on the table, the plates clatter and Seokjin’s stomach lurches at the thought that it must’ve hurt his arm like a bitch. “Don’t bring that woman into this.”

Regret flashes over his father’s face. He raises his hands, indicating that he’s giving up, “fine, fine. I’m sorry I brought it up. Just sit down and finish your food.”

Yoongi briefly glances at Seokjin and crosses his arms as he says, “I’m not hungry anymore,” before turning and walking away upstairs.

This is no new scenario to Seokjin, honestly, he’s lived with them and he knows this is just a regular sunday in this household. But after that day at the station, he can’t help but feel a bit…regretful. Maybe. Because all this time, he only thought about how to keep his own heart safe, while Yoongi was here suffering along as well.

Min Byunghun’s eyes follow his son’s departure before his gaze lands on Seokjin.

“Jin-ah,” he still smiles at him, “do you think I spoiled him too much?”

Yoongi told him during that not-so-drunken conversation that, he could never ask for a better father. With a job as demanding as the Chief, he still made sure to attend every parent’s meeting and his basketball games at school. He never raised his voice, always left breakfast for him before he left in the morning and attended to every little thing Yoongi needed growing up. With all the trouble Yoongi got himself into, he never once raised his voice at him. So maybe, Min Byunghun did love his son too much. But what else could he have done with the capacity to love this big?

Seokjin smiles back at the man who so lovingly took him in all those years ago, “no, abeonim, I think you spoiled him just right.”

Min Byunghun laughs, his shoulders shaking with it, and looks up at the ceiling. He tries to dab a pad of his finger on the corner of his eye so that Seokjin doesn’t notice. Seokjin pretends he doesn’t. “I think I’m getting weaker with age.”

Seokjin grins, “this is why I always ask you if you’ve forgotten to take your medications or not.” Min Byunghun waves a hand over his face, still laughing. Seokjin stands up and says, “I’ll go check up on Yoongi.”

Min Byunghun nods, “thanks, son.” If anything, Seokjin should be the one thanking him for everything he’s done. But he simply bows and walks upstairs.

Seokjin knocks on Yoongi’s door three times without any answer. The fourth time he hears a muffled “fuck off!” He takes it as an invitation and finally grabs the knob, turns it and says, “I’m coming in.”

Yoongi’s room hasn’t changed much, except the old twin size bed has been replaced with a queen size now. His walls are still adorned with decades old Epik High posters. The table that used to be filled with textbooks once upon a time is now filled with magazines, old newspaper cuttings and photo albums. The old curtains are still up, although a bit rigged at the edges. But hasn’t changed them, Seokjin thinks, he’s too attached to them.

The very moment Seokjin opens the door, a pillow flies up at his face. But he has good reflexes, so he catches it without much difficulty.

“If I think about it,” Yoongi grunts, “it’s actually all your fault. Why did you agree to marry me in the first place?”

Seokjin puts the pillow back on the bed as he walks in, “you’re getting old. Someone has to.”

Yoongi scowls at him. His coat is sprawled over the chair in front of the table. The man himself is sitting on his bed facing his back at him, with his shirt half open, the left side of his body completely bare. The bandage around his arm is still secure, but Yoongi winces, holding onto his left elbow.

“Thought I was bleeding again.” Yoongi sneers in pain, “hurt like a goddamn bitch.” Seokjin crosses his arms and sits down behind Yoongi. He continues, “do yourself a favour and never get shot at.”

Seokjin hums, “I have a better chance at getting shot than you.”

Yoongi whips his head around with eyes so wide they threaten to pop out, “don’t say stuff like that.”

Seokjin stops but he can’t help but stare at Yoongi’s bare skin. Smooth milk white with a pink undertone. Porcelain finish. A few small, healed scars here and there. A single mole at the base of his neck. A very light, almost imperceptible purple mark ornates his skin at the chest. It must’ve been a proper hickey at some point, Seokjin thinks bitterly.

But he also thinks that what his biology teacher taught them at school was tremendously wrong. The dual processes of the human brain aren’t logical and creative. They’re very obviously logical and horny.

Yoongi, the perceptive piece of shit, catches on and promptly pulls the edge of his shirt to cover himself. He didn’t have to be so obvious, not like Seokjin was drooling or anything. Yoongi seems like he’s having trouble buttoning his shirt with one hand.

“Great. The one time I’m not feeling it is the one time you decide to look at me like you want to eat me alive.” Yoongi scoffs, “just my luck.”

Seokjin doesn’t deny it, doesn’t really want to. He holds his hand up, “come here, let me help you with that.”

Yoongi doesn’t protest when Seokjin carefully holds the lapel of his shirt and closes the buttons one by one. He tries not to focus too much on Yoongi’s skin underneath, or on the light purple mark taunting him. But he feels Yoongi’s eyes on him. Rightly, when he finishes buttoning his shirt and looks up, Yoongi is staring at him.

“You’re too handsome for your own good.”

Yoongi has told him so a million times before, maybe now, Seokjin can say something back. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re pretty as fuck?”

Yoongi blinks. Once. Twice, “literally every person except you, really.”

Instead of being annoyed, Seokjin ends up laughing at the deadpan expression Yoongi is giving him. Yoongi widens his eyes at him, “oh wow, you can laugh too. Handsome and laughs. Maybe I should marry you after all.”

Seokjin breathes a laugh and leans forward, “why? Were you planning on jilting me at the altar?”

Yoongi looks down at his finger at first, then looks up again. His gaze lands on Seokjin’s lips and lingers for a second too long before flitting up to meet his eyes again. “And give my dad a heart attack?”

Seokjin leans back, “I think you’ve prepared him enough for it.” He sees Yoongi’s lips slightly quirk up. “Or do you have a psychotic lover who wants to kill me?”

“Now, now, cupcake. Don’t put ideas into my head.”

Seokjin laughs again. It feels easy, laughing with Yoongi. Something he should’ve started doing earlier. He notices Yoongi eyeing the stretch on his lips and slowly feels his own smile falter.

“We need to talk, Yoongi.”

Yoongi looks down at his lap and says, “can we do that some other time?”

He does look too dejected to have a sound conversation about serious matters. So Seokjin agrees, “yeah, okay.”

“Also,” Yoongi looks back up, “I want to stay here tonight, smooth things out with dad. And I know this wasn’t the plan-”

“Hey.” Seokjin cuts him off. He’s not going to lie, he does feel an iota of disappointment because Yoongi won’t be going back with him tonight. But he understands how important it is for Yoongi to spend time with his father. He just feels a bit sad that he has to sleep alone tonight, without Yoongi burying his face into his chest. Not that he’s never done it before but in a few days he’s sort of made a habit out of it. Now without him, it’ll feel kind of lonely. But he’s not going to tell Yoongi right away, the man has a gigantic ego as it is. “It’s your house.” he smiles, showing that he’s really okay with it, “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Yoongi lets the silence stretch. Seokjin’s phone buzzes in his pocket but he ignores it in favour of staring at Yoongi.

“I’ll miss waking up to your handsome face, though,” Yoongi smiles back, “besides, your bed is softer than mine.”

Seokjin feels a wave of relief knowing that he’s not the only one who feels that way. Yoongi actually likes staying with him. And maybe it’s the way Yoongi says things like these with so much ease, so little resistance, that it makes Seokjin want to dive headfirst into a pool of lava and turn into crisps just to avoid the flutters in his tummy.

His ears feel hot when he says, without thinking it through, “then come home soon.” Something akin to surprise flashes through Yoongi’s eyes. Seokjin can’t stop himself, “bring some of your clothes along this time.” He’s becoming greedy, saying too much.

Yoongi blinks at him slowly. Please say yes. “Are you sure?” He asks instead. Seokjin bites his bottom lip lightly and nods slowly. Yoongi smirks, “I need words, cupcake.”

Seokjin wants to grab Yoongi by his face and kiss the smirk off of his face, maybe then he’ll know. “I’m sure,” he says instead.

Baby steps.

—

Seokjin is no stranger to Yoongi’s complete silence, but now it bothers him when Yoongi doesn’t come back. He starts to overthink it. Maybe he was wrong in his assumption that Yoongi liked staying with him. Maybe Yoongi just likes having someone to hold while he sleeps. It doesn’t necessarily have to be Seokjin.

The call comes one Wednesday evening when Seokjin is knee deep into reading the forensic analysis of the unidentified body found in a roadside ditch last night. Seo Saeron’s case was handed over to Jung Hoseok who insisted he take it up as he had been interested in the illegal manufacturing of the blue drug. Seokjin was hesitant at first, knowing that Yoongi was still working on the story and maybe he could keep an eye out on him. But narcotics isn’t exactly his forte, so he thought it’s better this way.

His phone rings when Jeongguk was trying to read aloud the signs of poisoning in the man’s body. Seokjin’s instinct was to ignore it first. But then he sees the familiar face blowing a kiss on his screen and his tummy does a somersault despite the gruesome report in his hands. Sue him.

Seokjin tries very hard not to smile when he picks up his call and presses it on his ears after receiving it. Jimin crosses his arms with his mouth hung open and raising an eyebrow, mutters, “simp.”

“Min Yoongi,” Seokjin speaks into the phone, “to what do I finally owe the pleasure?”

Yoongi sighs on the other side, “on a scale of one to Viva la Vida by Coldplay, how much do you love me?”

Seokjin glances at the two other officers in front of him briefly before closing his eyes. He knows exactly what’s up. “What do you want this time?”

“Okay great, straight to the point.” Yoongi says rapidly, “the guard isn’t letting me enter the station because I have a camera and a journalist’s ID with me.” Seokjin sighs, motioning at Jimin and Jeongguk to wait for one second before he reaches for the door. “And I have critical information about the location of the warehouse where they’re manufacturing the drugs.”

So that’s what Yoongi was upto. Seokjin practically runs to the main door. Of course, the guard is standing tall outside, blocking Yoongi’s path. Seokjin cuts the call and waves at the guard.

“Sohyun-ssi,” he bows slightly to him, “it’s okay, you can let him in.”

The guard relents and Yoongi frantically runs to Seokjin, “I found the place.”

Seokjin watches the slight worry mixed with excitement in Yoongi’s face. He’s breathing heavily, as though he came running to the station. He hasn’t seen Yoongi since sunday. “Come inside. I’ll call Hoseok and you can tell him everything.”

Hoseok prepares his entire team, armed with their guns and bulletproof vests. Yoongi insists he go with them because he needs the story and promises that he’ll stay inside the car and cause zero trouble for the team. Now, Seokjin is a bit concerned about that.

But he knows better than to argue with Yoongi in the station. He’s already decided that he’ll go, there’s no way he can talk him out of this now. Besides, he has the Min surname backing him up, no one here would dare to argue. Seokjin pulls Hoseok at the side and tells him to keep an eye out for him.

“Don’t worry, Jin hyung,” Hoseok assures him, “he’ll be safe with us.”

“And call us if you need backup.” Hoseok nods enthusiastically in reply.

Yoongi looks excited to prepare along with the team. He doesn’t get a gun but he looks happy with the vest he does get. Yoongi doesn’t get the chance to talk to Seokjin, but he glances at him briefly before leaving with Hoseok’s team out the door.

Seokjin feels uneasy, restless, watching Yoongi go. He crosses his arms and taps his foot nervously on the floor. Should he go with them? But he has another case he needs to go back to. Before, he’d be worried about how his father would react to knowing Yoongi is going with an investigation team like this. But now? He’s not so sure.

Tension overrules, he lets out an exasperated “fuck” before he bolts out the door.

Yoongi is just opening the door to the backseat when the cold air hits Seokjin’s face, “Yoongi!” The officers all around him stop doing what they’re doing and stop for a brief second.

The man in question looks back over his shoulder, smiles, “hey handsome.”

Seokjin breathes out, “please be careful.”

Yoongi tilts his head, “uh-"

“It can be dangerous out there, no one knows how they’ll be armed” Seokjin can’t stop blurting, “so please, listen to everything Hoseok says and don’t get into any trouble. Stay inside the car and get out only when everything is settled. Just,” he pauses to catch his breath, “be safe, okay?”

The other officers start to file into the cars, the red and blue lights sweeping by all around them. Yoongi turns his entire body towards Seokjin.

“Why?” Yoongi breathes a humoured laugh, surprised to hear such uncharacteristic words out of Seokjin’s mouth, “why do you care if I'm safe or not?”

Seokjin could say what he usually says. Your father will kill me if something happens to you, you shouldn’t do anything to hurt your father, think about how it’ll break your dad. But for once, he thinks he should be honest with him. It’s been a long time coming.

He looks at Yoongi desperately, helplessly. Shakes his head, “I don’t know what this is, Yoongi.”

“You can say it to me,” Yoongi grips the camera harder, “it’s not a secret what I feel about you. So you can say that you want to tattoo my name over your chest,” Yoongi grins, Seokjin can’t help but widen his eyes, “or that you want to take me to the very top of the Eiffel Tower and kiss me against Paris, hire a private jet and show me around the world. Or that you love me so much you want to build a pyramid in the shape of a heart for me.” Yoongi steps back, pulling the strap of his camera over his neck, “say it.”

“No, it’s nothing grand like that,” Seokjin shakes his head, taking a backward step as well, “I just want to see you in the morning when I wake up everyday.” His lips slightly quirk up when Yoongi smiles too, “so come back to me in one piece, yeah?”

Yoongi perches one leg inside the car and grins, “deal.” Seokjin nods and watches from afar as the cars file out of the gates one by one.

—

Not surprisingly, Yoongi ends up in the hospital.

Seokjin makes Jeongguk drive him to the hospital because he can’t stop ranting about how Yoongi just had one job and still failed to follow through.

When Seokjin arrives, he sees Yoongi sitting on the bed dangling his legs with a busted lip and a bleeding nose. He has a cold press in his hand and is animatedly talking about something to Hoseok. Poor Hoseok, who saw Yoongi’s nose bleeding and panicking, brought him straight to the hospital, called Seokjin right away and told him, “he’s fine, we’re just taking a short trip to the hospital just in case.”

Yoongi isn’t impressed to see Seokjin who approaches them with a tight expression. He’s about to tell Yoongi off when the latter raises his hands in surrender and says, “in my defense, the dude punched Taehyung first.”

Officer Kim Taehyung, who is lying down on the next bed with a broken hand, uses his good hand to make a peace sign with his fingers, “you’re my hero, hyung.”

Seokjin exhales, raking a hand through his hair, “what the fuck happened?”

Yoongi straightens his posture, “saw someone punching Taehyung. So I got out and punched the dude myself. Then he punched me back. Literally, that’s it.” Seokjin gives him a look, “what else was I going to do? Sit inside the car and count the stars? I shouldn’t even be here.”

Seokjin reaches inside his pocket, “that’s it. I’m calling your father this time,” he brings out his phone and fails to notice Yoongi standing up and curling his fists. “I give up. You can take it up with him.”

But before he can press the call button, Yoongi says, “yah, look at me.” and Seokjin, unsuspectingly, does.

Yoongi slaps him in the face, Hoseok, Jeongguk and Taehyung collectively gasp. Seokjin holds his cheek, although it didn’t hurt as much as it made a loud sound. “Did you just slap me?”

Yoongi flicks his hand, “you’re still going on about my father?” Seokjin’s mouth hangs open, Yoongi turns to Hoseok, “can you believe I have to marry this guy? He’s going to ruin my life.”

Hoseok steps back, Seokjin wants to laugh, “yah, if anything, you’re going to ruin my life.”

Yoongi then turns to Jeongguk, “be honest Jeongguk, would you ever marry a guy like him?”

Poor kid looks like he’s about to burst into tears when he raises his hands, “please for the love of god, leave me out of this mess.”

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The sky is starting to segue from a light orange to an ugly purple. The river by the parking lot is calm, just like Yoongi sitting on the passenger’s seat. The city comes alive at the setting sun, burning a deep red on still water. Yoongi is barely ever calm like this, he must be thinking hard.

Yoongi slurps his drink every once in a while, looking intently ahead at the skyscrapers’ reflection on the river. They sit there in silence. They had a late lunch and Yoongi insisted that he wants to take a breather before going to meet his dad for dinner. It had been just five minutes since they parked the car, when a flying seagull laid its waste on the windshield. Now a part of the glass is covered in seagull poop.

Such is life.

Just two normal people and their shitty life problems.

They need to talk. Min Byunghun called a while ago and said that if they don’t settle on a date, they shouldn’t even come tonight. Yoongi seethed for a while for being banned from his own house.

Seokjin dreads the conversation they actually need to have. A definitive date. Terms and conditions if any. Wants and needs out of this marriage. Boundaries. Then there will be plans, venues, guest lists, expenses. It’s giving him a headache just thinking about it.

Seokjin closes his eyes and sighs, rubbing his face with his hand, “hey, look,” he starts, “I know that neither of us are actually, you know,” he pauses, trying to think how to phrase it, “we’re not loyal to each other.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, looking ahead, “do you want us to stop sleeping with other people?”

Seokjin breathes in, it does sound nice for a change. But, “no. I was going to say how you’re not obligated to stay loyal to me even after the wedding.” A lodge forms in his throat, Seokjin can’t say why. “Since you’re stuck in an arranged marriage and I know you didn’t want to get settled and you might have needs that I can’t really fulfill,” he pauses, then, “you can seek it in others. If, you know, if you want.”

Seokjin doesn’t need to look at Yoongi to feel his eyes on him, “so you’re offering an open marriage?”

He closes his eyes, rests his head on the steering wheel, “I just mean that you’re free to have sex with others if you think I’m not enough for you.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything at first and Seokjin’s stomach flips at the thought that Yoongi is seriously considering it in his head. He raises his head and leans back on the seat, looking up, when Yoongi opens his seatbelt and shuffles, “so what happens on a day when I want to have sex with you?”

When, not if. Seokjin whips his head around to look at Yoongi. The menace has tucked his legs under him on the seat and is leaning on it with his side, body completely facing Seokjin. If Seokjin thinks about it, Yoongi hasn’t changed much in all these years. He still has that cheekiness about him, still pouts when he doesn’t get his way.

“Would you want to?”

“What if I do?” Yoongi shrugs, “say, one night I don’t really feel like going out and meeting people but feel like staying home and cuddling under a blanket with you after sex. What happens then?”

Seokjin grips the steering wheel tighter. That doesn’t sound too bad now, does it? He keeps looking at Yoongi, at the slight quirk of his lips that he’s trying to hide. The dim tint of the vanishing sun lingering on the corner of his eyes. And it makes something tingle in his bones.

When he doesn’t answer, Yoongi arches up and swings his legs one after the other over the console and sits on Seokjin’s lap with so much ease, it makes him wonder if they’ve done it before. Yoongi’s legs are on both sides of his thighs as he presses their foreheads together. Seokjin’s hands find their way to rest on his waist.

Yoongi is…close. Close enough that he only has to lean up a little himself for their lips to meet. He remembers how soft those lips are, how nice they felt between his own. And he wants to taste them again. Take his time with them. Devour him. Seokjin breathes Yoongi in. He realizes, at the back of his mind, that he’s been shamelessly staring at Yoongi’s lips.

But it’s Yoongi who reaches out with his hands and grabs the collar of Seokjin’s shirt and pulls him towards himself. “Tell me, baby, since you seem to have planned everything out for me yourself. What do I do then?”

Seokjin has trouble breathing or thinking clearly. Yoongi is sitting on his lap, slightly moving his hips. He’s really fucking pretty and Seokjin is very miserably human.

“You just let me know,” Seokjin’s voice comes out in a whisper.

“And then?” Yoongi presses on.

“And then I’ll fuck you good.”

Yoongi smirks, his hand now leaving his collar and reaching behind to grab onto the hair on his nape. He tilts Seokjin’s face up, he feels as though he’s completely at Yoongi’s mercy.

“Even if I won’t let you fuck other people?” Yoongi drawls, mouthing at the line of Seokjin’s jaw.

Seokjin’s breath hitches at the implication, his hands slide under Yoongi’s shirt, “you really won’t?”

Yoongi slides his tongue over the shell of Seokjin’s ear before nipping on the skin under his ears, “no,” he answers straightforwardly, “I’m not sharing. When we sign those papers you’re mine for good.”

Seokjin grips Yoongi’s hips tighter and the latter moans when Seokjin bites under his chin. Yoongi moves against Seokjin and cups his face hard with one hand, forcing Seokjin to look at him.

“Now tell me, love.” Yoongi’s eyes are dark, “do you really want to let me sleep with other people?”

Seokjin doesn’t even think, “no,” he breathes out heavily, “no, I really don’t.”

Yoongi’s lips ghost over his, “good, because I don’t want to either,” he says before finally kissing Seokjin.

And it’s a nasty fucking kiss. All sloppy with tongue and too much wetness. Yoongi doesn’t show him any mercy when he keeps biting his lips and sucks his tongue into his own mouth. If during their first kiss Seokjin felt like the world stopped, now, he feels as though it pressed hard on the accelerator. He feels insane, exhilarated, a little crazy with Yoongi’s tongue lapping all over inside his mouth.

Yoongi parts first, leaving a long trail of saliva between them before latching his mouth onto Seokjin’s neck, still pressing his hips down. A definite bulge forms inside Seokjin’s pants. Yoongi himself isn’t doing any better.

Yoongi ghosts his lips over his ear, licks the shell for a good measure before he whispers, “and when we’ll be married for a while,” a kiss under his ear, “and our married sex will become vanilla and boring,” then back up, nipping on his earlobe, “we’ll put your handcuffs and guns to good use.”

Seokjin groans and arches up, “you’re a fucking menace.”

Yoongi bites hard on his bottom lip again, “you don’t even know half the things I want to do to you, love.”

After a lot of wiggling and positioning, Yoongi squats down on his knees in the space in front of the front seat and swallows Seokjin whole without much difficulty. It is obscene, to say the least, the sounds Yoongi makes while sucking him off against the backdrop of a sunset. Yoongi makes Seokjin see bright stars before they even appear in the sky. And when Yoongi is done drinking him to the lees, Seokjin carefully carries him over to the backseat and returns the goddamn favour.

((But does Yoongi possess the self control required to wait until the sex becomes vanilla to use the handcuffs? No. Not that Seokjin is complaining, but he really needs to do something about waking up in the morning with his hands tied to the headboard and Yoongi between his legs.))