Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cafe he’s chosen is on the other side of town from the Jung house, a fact that makes Jimin feel far more comfortable with what he’s about to do.

He’s been with his lovers for the last three days, living in a simultaneous hell and heaven. Namjoon called the day after the three of them were reunited and asked for both Hoseok and Yoongi to have their blood tested too.

Just like with Jimin, there were traces of amphetamine in the samples, but the doctor explained that anything else used to produce the result they claimed didn’t stick around in the system nearly as long as that particular drug did. Namjoon seemed surprised by this fact, as well as the information they found on Jieun’s computer, and shortly after, the police showed up with a warrant to search the house and cars.

The only thing of interest they uncovered was Jieun’s cabinet of medication, in which they found the possible ingredients for the drug Jimin recalls Jieun describing to him. Though this seemed to be more proof of their stories, Namjoon still felt like the details weren’t adding up with what happened.

So it seemed they were back to square one, which was disheartening in itself, but the mystery of Jieun’s death is now the least of their concern.

Somehow, the media has gotten ahold of the basic details of the investigation and now the campus is swarming with reporters and news vans. Jimin knows it’s only a matter of time before the “limited details” the police were forced to give out are expanded and then that attention will turn to Yoongi and Hoseok, since they were her technical family. After that, things are uncertain. Jimin doesn’t know if he’ll be named or if the entirety of the story will come out, but nowadays something like this becomes easily sensationalized and with frenzy comes demand for someone to blame. When that happens, their secrets will be exposed for the world, the twisted sordid tale on display with the three of them hanging up on their crosses while stones are thrown at them.

He wonders what it will be like then, for the entire world not only to know his name but his past, his sexual orientation, his every flaw. He knows it will be hard for Hoseok and even harder for Yoongi, because though Jieun’s actions were horrible, she was the only thing standing between them and a world that wants to lock them away for their supposed sickness.

Just this morning, Yoongi was told not to come into work for a few more days even though campus is now reopened, and Hoseok emailed his professors about skipping class, only to get responses that his enrollment was under review. It’s obvious that the administration is wary of them given the circumstances, and so the three of them sat down to discuss what Jieun’s absence would mean for them.

Would Yoongi be able to keep his job if he was suspected of murder or would the university cut ties with him due to the bad publicity? If he left on his own accord, would he be able to get employed elsewhere?

And Hoseok— His sister’s signature on the court documents is what has kept him able to live with his probation, but what happens now? Does he have to see another therapist and re-live not only the past but now the present? And if he refuses, where does he go? To jail or an institution? And if he’s also suspected, does that accelerate the process?

Of course, Jimin had tried to do the right thing by confessing, but even that wasn’t enough to protect those he loved. Namjoon refuses to believe him and Jimin supposes he wouldn’t either if he was standing on the outside looking in. His story simply doesn’t match up with the evidence, but like the officer said, Jieun didn’t end up that way on her own.

The fact remains that someone killed her that night, walked out into the rain, and never looked back. And though he knows drugs— especially cocktailed drugs— can cause some powerful and disturbing hallucinations, it felt too real not to be the truth. But if Jimin did imagine the whole thing, why would he imagine it like that? Wouldn’t he be heroic and brave in his delusion? Wouldn’t Jieun confess freely to her sins and beg for forgiveness? Why would he imagine that exact scenario?

And was he dreaming this while asleep in Jieun’s office? Or had he crawled into the science lab where the drug finally took over? How did he get home? Where did the vomit and spit on his clothing go? Did he hallucinate everything right after being injected?

It doesn’t make sense, no matter how he looks at it and the longer he thinks it over and picks at the frayed edges, the more unraveled the entire thing becomes until he’s holding onto just one thin thread, pulling at it and hoping it leads somewhere.

There is one thing that Jimin knows for certain— all three of them were there that night in the Sciences building. They saw the documents on Jieun’s computer and they all strongly believe Jieun was the one who tranquilized them.

After that, reality bent to the contours of their minds, each showing them something vastly different. But though Hoseok dreamt of the carousel, he didn’t believe he had actually been there when he woke up. Yoongi didn’t think the memories of the fragrant garden of his childhood had actually been truth, so why did Jimin strongly believe he played a role in murdering Jieun? Perhaps it’s because a murder did in fact take place, but is it possible that the two instances were unrelated? Did he really have a nightmare about being forced to kill such a detestable woman on the very same night she was actually murdered?

Could it be coincidence?

Unlikely, his mind tells him, but his heart hopes. His heart grieves. He would think he was the one who was dead if weren’t for that persistent ache.

Jungkook shows up at the cafe right on time, dressed down and looking over the rows of booths for his former friend. When Jimin had received his text, he had been concerned, but he figured they would talk at some point because of everything that’s happened. For a moment, he wonders why Jungkook had not tried to contact him immediately when he got back from his trip with Taehyung to Ilsan, but he supposes the media coverage was to blame.

“Hey,” Jungkook opens up with, sitting down at the table with his latte. He looks scared, not annoyed or hostile like Jimin expected him to be, but this emotion is far more uncomfortable to deal with.

He doesn’t know what to say. Is this about the argument? Their friendship? The murder? His lips part but nothing comes out and he’s just gaping at his former best friend, pleading silently for him to start some mundane conversation. Like he always has, Jungkook reads him perfectly.

“Do you remember the time your father figured out that you snuck out of the house and he stayed up waiting for you to come home?” the younger asks, fiddling with the ceramic mug in his hands. “I parked down the block so I could walk you to the back door but we saw him standing outside so we hid in the bushes in the park because we thought he would eventually go inside.”

Jimin remembers, because he had been terrified of what his father would do once he actually got inside the house, but Jungkook just thought Jimin was going to get a lecture and a grounding like most teenagers do. He was giggling the whole time that they hid in the bushes and even though Jimin knew his fate would be the same whether he went inside right at that moment or hours later, he chose to stay with his friend. It felt safe; it felt normal to be cracking jokes and struggling to whisper so they wouldn’t be heard.

He smiles wistfully. “I remember.”

“And then our legs got tired of crouching so we sat down and you sat right on top of an ant hill?”

Jimin’s smile grows wider. Those ants were the kind that bit and it hurt like a bitch when they swarmed him.

“They were all over you within like seconds and when your dad went around the back of the house for a few minutes, we got the fuck out of there,” Jungkook continues, looking down into his coffee like it’s a mirror to the past.

“And you made me wait while you googled how to get them off?” Jimin finishes for him, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “I stood there screaming and clawing at myself for ten minutes before you had the bright idea to spray me down with a garden house.”

Full-on laughing now, Jungkook’s coffee shakes with him and spills out around the edges of the cup. “Oh my god, that lady’s face when she came outside because she thought we were burglars and she saw me hosing you down in her garden while you were stripping off all your clothes.” His jovial giggles turn to cackles and the other patrons of the cafe begin to eye him in annoyance.

But Jimin doesn’t care. He hasn’t seen Jungkook like this in a long time, heard his beautiful voice squeak with joy. “I miss you,” he says impulsively, but he doesn’t regret it.

Jungkook’s laughter dies down and his eyes don’t seem to want to settle on him but they do. “I miss you too,” he says, pushing his cup away and collecting his thoughts. “I, uh, invited you here because I couldn’t stand not talking to you anymore and I know you probably need someone right now—”

“I’m sorry,” Jimin cuts his friend off, staring into those familiar brown eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry, Jungkook, that I let myself get that bad.”

“I did stupid shit too, hyung.”

“But you did that stupid shit because you were worried about me,” Jimin counters. He reaches out, his hand hovering over his friend’s before he decides to go for it and holds Jungkook’s hand. “You were scared because I wouldn’t listen to you, because I didn’t care what my actions were doing to everyone around me. So for that, I’m sorry. And I mean it, Jungkook. No more half-assed apologies because I think you’re being dramatic or overreacting. If I hurt you, then I owe you an apology, period.”

Jungkook nods, looking down at their hands, turning his palm up to fully accept Jimin’s affection. “Is this... because of what happened?”

Of course Jimin knows what he’s referring to. But watching his friend stumble over the obvious makes him realize it’s actually reality.

“No, I owed you this before everything happened,” Jimin clarifies. “But what happened recently did make me admit it to myself. I was wrong to say all those things to you and make you feel like you weren’t a priority. And yeah, we both did things wrong, but deep down, I know we both weren’t purposely trying to hurt one another. Life is too short...”

Sighing, Jungkook plays with Jimin’s fingers, staring down at the table. “When you found out about what happened, were you scared? I was scared. I’ve never had anything like that happen so close to me. It makes you really think about things, about what you’ve done... so I don’t blame you if it made you realize stuff too.” He takes a deep breath and looks up. “And when Hoseok-hyung called me and said he couldn’t find you, I thought about that night you got assaulted, when I called you several times and you didn’t pick up... It did something to me too, you know? And I just keep thinking, what if it hadn’t been his sister that died? What if it had been you? I don’t think I could’ve forgiven us for giving up on each other. All the stupid, petty shit means nothing when I think about how it would feel to lose you forever. You’re my best friend.”

The breath is stolen from Jimin’s lungs by this statement, by Jungkook’s complete vulnerability. After everything, just like his lovers, his friend still believes in him.

Jimin doesn’t care that he’s in the middle of a cafe. He jumps to his feet, rounds the table, and pulls Jungkook into a crushing hug, burying his face in the younger’s neck and breathing him in to replace the air his sincerity took from him.

“I love you so much, Kookie,” he whispers, tears wetting Jungkook’s skin. “You’re my brother and I fucking love you.”

He feels Jungkook’s arms wrap around him, holding him tightly, unashamed by how strange they might look to those around them.

“I love you too, hyung. Do you want to go somewhere and talk some more?”

They leave their still-warm drinks behind and walk to a local park. Jimin insists on holding hands because he needs the comfort and Jungkook doesn’t deny him this. Sitting on a bench, they don’t separate and if Jimin could, he would curl up next to his friend for their conversation, but he hopes they will have plenty of time for that in the future.

“So, Yoongi said you talked to him because you were concerned that we would get caught,” Jimin begins, staring out into the park.

Jungkook nods, squeezing their hands together tighter. “I found your name in that book and it freaked me out. She had been asking around about you and even though I was mad, I was worried she was going to find out what you were doing. I mean, I was already worried about her figuring out about you and Hoseok-hyung, but that seemed more like a family issue, whether or not he had come out yet. But if she caught you with her husband... I wanted to tell you directly but I knew you wouldn’t listen to me, but if you heard it from Professor Min, then maybe you would.”

“Why didn’t you tell Hoseok about what I was doing? He is your friend after all, and that would’ve stopped it.”

“To be honest, I tried to hint at it, just to see if he would figure it out on his own, but he’s a lot like me and he doesn’t think it’s in your character,” Jungkook admits and Jimin can hear the remorse in his voice. “Like I said, I wanted my best friend back and I knew that doing something like telling him directly wouldn’t get you back. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just wanted to open your eyes, but making you think Hoseok-hyung was cheating on you was a desperate move that I really didn’t think through. I wasn’t thinking at all actually.”

“I can relate to that,” Jimin muses, sighing heavily. “They know, by the way. We told each other everything.”

Jungkook’s face lights up in surprise. “Oh. Are you guys...”

“Yeah, we’re all together,” Jimin confesses, sheepish because of the obvious taboo. “I’m not sure how it will work, but we love each other. I know it probably doesn’t make sense and you’re probably freaked out by it but—”

“It’s weird,” Jungkook interrupts, “and you’re right. I don’t get it and couldn’t do it myself, but they both care so much about you. That much I know. The way Hoseok-hyung talks about you and when I talked to Professor Min, I could just tell. And to be honest, I knew there was something more there when he asked about Hoseok-hyung too, if I thought his sister knew more about him than she let on. He looked so concerned. I caught myself thinking, ‘wow, this guy cares about both of them. Wouldn’t it be weird if they all ended up caring that much about each other’?”

Despite his embarrassment, Jimin laughs at the irony of the situation. “Yeah, it was completely unexpected and crazy. Everything is...” he trails off before clearing his throat. “So you don’t hate me? You don’t think I’m some kind of greedy manipulator or something?”

“Hyung, I know I came off that way when we argued, but it’s like I told you— deep down, I know that’s not you,” Jungkook explains, his hand holding Jimin’s tightly. “If I truly believed you were that bad of a person, you changing wouldn’t have bothered me like it did. It’s only because I do love you and I think of you as a brother that I felt compelled to do something even if it was dumb. This entire situation shouldn’t have happened, but all we can do now is learn from it, right?”

“And I will,” Jimin assures. “I will learn from this, Kook, and I will never hurt you again.”

“And I’ll never hurt you again, hyung. I’ve got your back.”

“Is that a promise?”

Jungkook lifts his pinky up and wiggles it. “Only if you can fit your tiny finger around mine.” He grins.

Jimin rolls his eyes but indulges him anyway, tangling their little fingers together, joking about past memories. He rests his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, savoring the calm while he can.

“Do you remember when you kissed me in high school?” he questions, eyes lazily drifting closed.

Jungkook snorts. “Oh, you mean when I knew for absolute certain that I was straight?”

Pouting, Jimin swats him on the arm. “Hey, you make it sound like it was horrible.”

“You’re not a good kisser, hyung. You drool a little bit.”

“Kookie!” Jimin really does hit him now and Jungkook fakes that it hurts, giggling and trying to hold Jimin at arm’s length.

An hour later, they’re strolling through the park, catching up on things, commenting on the oddities of Seoul in contrast to Busan.

“Who do you think did it?” Jungkook asks as they pass a family celebrating a birthday. Once again, Jimin is all too aware of the underlying question.

“I don’t know,” Jimin half-lies, half-admits, his mind still struggling to wrap around the entire incident. He could be the culprit but he could also not be. It’s way too confusing to even bother bringing up, especially since he’s certain it will scare Jungkook.

“I got a call from an officer,” his friend tells him. “They asked me when I could come in to be interviewed since I’m friends with Hoseok-hyung and she was my advisor.”

“Kook, can I ask you why you changed your major? It happened suddenly and I never knew why.”

Jungkook coughs, obviously caught off-guard. He rubs the back of his neck. “Um, so this is going to sound weird, but I changed because I had this one elective course in sociology and it made me realize a lot of the things you tried to hide from me when we were growing up.” Jimin gapes bit Jungkook motions for his friend to let him continue. “I knew your home life was bad, but I didn’t realize how much you couldn’t get help even if it was just talking to someone, so I thought I would switch to psychology to help others like you. Maybe I’ll work with kids or something, I don’t know, but yeah...”

“Kookie.” Jimin squeezes their hands together even tighter. “I really do love you. You’re... I can never thank you enough for being there for me when I really needed it. Just— thank you.”

Jungkook smiles at that but remains silent otherwise and they continue their walk.

“Who do you think did it?” Jimin knows it’s not a pleasant topic to get back to, but he’s curious.

Jungkook shrugs. “Someone who felt like they had to, I guess. It’s... scary. I don’t like waking past that building.”

Unsure of what to make of such a vague statement, Jimin doesn’t follow up with another more obvious question and instead focuses on the things he is even more disturbed by.

“Jungkook, the book you found my name in, why do you think she would give you that particular copy if she was hiding things in it? Yoongi said she had other copies in her office.”

“Oh, she didn’t give it to me directly. She said I could have one when I told her the library was out, but Seokjin-sunbaenim was the one who brought it to me for her.”

Jimin stops walking, causing his friend to stumble. “Seokjin gave that book to you?”

“Yeah... Why? I figured that’s why I got the copy I did, because he didn’t know any better and just grabbed one from her office. Otherwise, I don’t think I would’ve gotten the one with your name in it and been able to warn Professor Min. Of course, none of that matters now, I guess.”

So it was not Jieun’s book, but Seokjin’s, which means all those notes, those feelings, his father’s name and Yoongi’s childhood address were put in there by him, right?

But that doesn’t make sense... Jieun was the one with the motive to investigate them...

Turning, Jimin grabs the younger by the shoulders. “Jungkook, when you were dating Soohyun, she told me that people were saying weird things about Jieun. She was worried about you changing your major and having that woman as a teacher. What were people saying?”

“I mean, people said she was really strict and that if you got her as your advisor she would try to push you into taking courses you were uncomfortable with, but that’s all just opinion.” Jungkook looks confused. “I never really heard anything super bad about her but Soohyun talked about it a lot. Said that she heard rumors through sunbaenim since he worked so closely with Dr. Jung as his boss.”

“She heard rumors from Seokjin?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, some days he talked like Dr. Jung was the best thing ever and other days, he was really upset and complaining. Why are you asking these questions about him? Is everything ok?”

“Be honest with me, Kook,” Jimin practically pleads, “did you ever get the sense that Seokjin was trying to pry into your personal life? Did he ever ask you about your schedule, or my schedule, or things between you and Hoseok?”

Frowning, Jungkook nods again. “Yeah, sometimes I felt like he was being kind of invasive but he likes to help people. We talked a lot and I know he’s close with Hoseok-hyung—”

“Have you heard from him since what happened on campus?” Jimin questions, practically vibrating with anxiety.

“I saw him this morning, but I don’t think he wanted me to,” Jungkook relays. “You know how he’s usually dressed so nice and put together? Well, he looked like he had a rough night, like he can’t sleep. I think this thing with Dr. Jung has him really messed up. They were always together because of his job.”

He doesn’t know what it is, but a peculiar emotion wells up with Jimin, something like realization and abject horror. “Did you talk to him? What did he say?”

“He said he wasn’t going to stay for long. He got called in for an interview at the police station like me. He looked... wrong about it. I don’t know.”

It clicks for Jimin in that moment, and he’s never felt so certain of something in his life. “I have to get back to campus,” he whispers, thoughts racing. “Where would he be at right now?”

“Why?”

Jimin could lie, he could spare Jungkook’s feelings and smother down his problems once more, but he doesn’t want to do that any longer, especially with this new revelation. His friend has proven his loyalty, his love for his hyung, and Jimin would be stupid not to reward that with the same effort.

“I think he killed her,” he admits, leaning in close to quiet his voice. “I don’t know exactly why, but I have this gut feeling and it won’t go away.”

Jungkook pales and his usually large eyes widen even more. “What? Seriously? Should we call the police?”

“We can, but I don’t have any evidence except for him being creepy. There’s literally no obvious reason for him to do it so what could I say? Besides, all they’ll do is ask him to come in to be interviewed anyway, which they’ve already done.”

“So what do we do? Are you sure, hyung?”

“I just have this feeling,” Jimin repeats. “He’s always been right there, and all these little things aren’t adding up. I need more evidence before I go to the police. Just one thing. If he did this, there has to be evidence, right?”

He thinks of the man standing in the doorway while Jieun held him, thinks about how strange it was that he had no face, that the illusion he conjured up wasn’t someone he knew like Jihyun...

Could it have been Seokjin?

“....haven’t the police already looked at all the buildings?” Jungkook is saying, oblivious to Jimin’s thoughts. “Wouldn’t they have found something by now or at least look into him after the interview? It’s not like they really have an obvious suspect that they’re focusing on right now. It seems like they’re talking to everybody.”

“Oh shit.” Jimin’s legs feel weak.

“What?”

“They suspect me!” he blurts out, pulling Jungkook close. “I confessed. They will be busy looking into me, asking about me— Oh no. They’ll ask him about me and he’ll see it as the perfect opportunity to pin it on me...”

“Hyung, I’m not following where this is going,” Jungkook states, alarmed, but Jimin doesn’t slow down.

“If he did it, if he was there, he will know where the evidence is, he can twist everything in his favor. He can make up something about me getting back to my dorm, he can fill in all the holes.... He could walk right in there and give them everything and it will just line up with what I told them already—” He’s talking so fast, his body shaking, his fingers gripping Jungkook’s shoulders tightly. “Kookie, we have to find some evidence. We have to before he has the chance to take it and make it look like I did this. Think, where would he hide a murder weapon or bloody clothes?”

Jungkook looks like he’s ready to faint. “How am I supposed to know?” he squeaks out. “He could’ve thrown all that in the river or in a dumpster somewhere by now.”

“No, no.” Jimin shakes his head, recalling the book he read, Seokjin’s apparent copy of Lolita, with all its underlined passages and desperate annotations. “Not him. He’s too... weird. He overthinks things. He would keep it. I just know it. Think, does he live close? Does he have an office on campus?”

“Um, he’s just a graduate assistant, but I do remember seeing him in the Sciences building one time, coming out of this closet in the basement. It was weird because no one really goes down there except for the janitors, but I do sometimes when my stomach is upset and I want a private bathroom to... you know before class.”

Jimin pulls away, letting his hands drop from his friend’s shoulders. He starts chewing on his thumb in concentration. “A closet? Do you think the police would’ve already checked it?”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I doubt it. It’s in the very corner of the basement next to the old air conditioning unit. It’s so small that I never realized it was a door until I saw him come out of it. It’s like barely big enough to walk through but he came right out of it and I was too busy trying to get to the bathroom.”

“We should go and look in there right now. I know I keep saying this, but I have this feeling... Did Seokjin tell you what time his interview was today?”

Jungkook looks at his phone. “Uh, it’s right now.”

“Fuck, we don’t have time!” Jimin erupts. “If he convinces them, they’ll issue a warrant for my arrest immediately. Then he’ll have time to plant the evidence however he wants.”

“What if he already has?” Jungkook questions, trying to contain his friend. “If you really believe he’s calculating enough to do this, then before going to the station, he probably already prepared everything to frame you. We could get inside there and that closet could be empty. It could be too late.”

“I have to do something, Jungkook! I can’t just sit here and wait. If there’s evidence in there that could save me, then I need to at least try.”

Jungkook doesn’t look convinced, but then Jimin holds up his pinky.

“You said you had my back..”

“I do,” Jungkook replies, hooking his finger with Jimin’s.

“Let’s go.”

——————————-

On the way to campus, Jimin calls his lovers, but they had gone back to bed when he left them earlier, so he figures that’s the reason they aren’t picking up now. All of them haven’t slept well, leading to abnormal sleeping pattens, and Jimin really only got up before the afternoon to meet with Jungkook, so he knows how dead to the world they must be. He leaves a message for both of them and texts them as well by the time he and Jungkook arrive.

It’s a frenzy near the quad where news stations have set up camp and students are wandering about, feeding into the hysteria. It’s almost impossible to cut through the crowd, but they make it, keeping their heads low until they’re able to stride down the path that leads to their final destination.

The Sciences building stands before Jimin, tall and foreboding. He can’t help but remember this place through the lens of that night, framed by darkness with rain dripping from the eaves— the unsettling crack of thunder, the blinding lightning.

“You ok?” Jungkook asks beside him, looking over his hyung’s face with concern.

Jimin nods before moving forward; if he doesn’t force himself to go in now, he won’t ever do it, but the knowledge that Seokjin could be framing him right this very moment drives him forward.

Inside, it’s not too busy, but they don’t chance being seen, immediately heading to the basement, where it grows darker and the air smells significantly damper. The carpet beneath his feet is thin and threadbare, a sign of aging. There’s no one down here, thankfully, but that doesn’t soothe his anxiety. Jungkook follows behind, glancing around nervously.

They walk to the far side, past the restrooms and the unused classrooms with warped wooden doors. The fluorescent lights flicker above them, humming. After awhile, Jimin spots the old air conditioner that Jungkook spoke of and next to that, the closet.

Jungkook was right. It’s tiny, possibly a slim broom closet, and the moment his hand touches the tarnished copper doorknob, he feels it— a chill deep inside that lets him know that what he’s about to find is worse than what he already knows.

The knob turns easily with no resistance and when Jimin cracks open the door, all he sees is black. The air is humid and it blasts right into his face; the sound of water dripping echoes further in. He instantly realizes the space is deeper than he thought, possibly not a small closet at all.

“It looks like a hallway,” Jungkook observes, peeking over his shoulder. “It’s fucking creepy.”

“Scared?” Jimin asks, though he’s pretty terrified himself.

“Well, yeah. You said you think Seokjin-sunbaenim is a killer and now you want to go into his creepy closet?”

Jimin inhales deeply, his gaze locked into the darkness in front of him. “I have to do something,” he pauses, then, “You should stay out here and watch the door. That way if I need help, you can come in but there’s no chance of someone closing the door on us and locking us inside.”

“Ok... Have they called you back yet?” Jungkook gestures towards Jimin’s pockets.

Jimin pulls out his phone and checks it. “No, but I told them where we are. If we’re quick, it won’t matter.”

“And what if you find the evidence in there? Or like... another body?”

Well, Jimin wasn’t considering that before now...

“Then we call the cops, they get the evidence, and everything is fine. If it’s a body... I’ll be ok.”

Jungkook narrows his gaze. “Hyung, I don’t think you will be.”

“Trust me Kook, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Jimin says, the image of Jieun stalking him down the hallway in his mind’s eye. He takes one final breath and then he flicks on his phone’s flashlight and ventures in.

It’s not exactly a tunnel, but it’s more earthen than the hallway he just came from. The darkness swallows up the light from his phone but he continues on anyway, feeling out in front of him.

His heart pumps frantically, he starts to feel a wave of horrific deja vu thunder through him at the memory of pure fear, staring into the unknown, but all he needs is evidence and then he can go. When he reaches the end, he finally understands what he’s in.

It’s a darkroom for developing photos.

There’s a single lightbulb hanging from a chain on the ceiling but it’s covered in layers of dust and webs. Jimin tries to click it on but it doesn’t work. The air here is stagnant from lack of circulation and the sound of dripping water is louder.

Along the walls are newspaper clippings from years past, cut out from the campus paper. Negatives sit in frames beside them. It appears that this room used to be used by the journalism department back before they went digital. It’s possible that most people don’t even know a place like this exists. So it makes sense why Seokjin would be down here, trusting it to keep all his secrets.

He shines the light over to the opposite wall where a long work table sits, most likely where the photos used to be developed. There’s nothing here now expect for some dusty books and a few pencils. No boxes or shelves, no sign of hidden evidence.

It could be that Jungkook was right, that Seokjin already took the evidence from here or possibly he never hid it here to begin with. He turns in the small space, bathing every inch in the light, finding nothing but relics staring back at him.

What does he do now? Does he go to the police with his theory and hope they can get evidence on Seokjin another way? What if he’s wrong and Seokjin isn’t even involved?

Fuck! Why does he feel like he’s going crazy—

“Did you bring my book back, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin freezes upon hearing the voice; his light shines on the ground near the workbench. He hears something shuffle around to his right and he moves the light over a few inches to find a dirty sneaker sticking out from underneath it.

Someone is hiding there.

Seokjin is hiding there.

“Jungkook!” Jimin yells, backing up. His hand shakes as it illuminates the area, and he watches in horror as Seokjin crawls out from underneath the desk, his hands reaching out to grip the underside of the table, his long legs protruding out. The man pulls himself out like a grotesque spider, body-contorting into unnatural angles.

Just as he’s free of the table, Jungkook comes running down the hallway, his phone lighting up his path. “Hyung! Hyung, are you—“ he cuts off, eyes growing wide as they take in the sight of Seokjin standing tall before them.

He’s wearing sweatpants and a tshirt, worn in and comfortable like pajamas, but every inch of the outfit is covered in dried blood, puddles and splatters and strings of it.

It’s hard for Jimin to reconcile the sight of Seokjin with his handsome face, neat hair, and flawless skin now wearing traces of someone’s life so casually. Now that Jimin sees him in the shadows, he recognizes him for who he really is—

He was the man standing in the doorway of the lab, the one Jimin thought was a hallucination.

“Hyung,” Jungkook breathes out, “l-let’s go—”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Seokjin tells them. His eyes are weary, his lips pulled down into mockery of a frown. He wears the tired face of someone who’s just come back from war, an unsuspecting civilian forced to see indescribable things. This expression is the only thing that keeps Jimin rooted in place, gives him pause, and overrides his instinct to run.

“I’m going to turn myself in, I just...” Seokjin looks directly at Jungkook. “I couldn’t go to the interview. I got dressed, got in my car, but then— then I realized what I was about to do. I was going to lie and watch Jimin take the blame but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

So it was just as Jimin suspected, but Seokjin’s reaction is anything but expected. The man is crying, weeping really, hugging himself and shaking. The clothes on his thin frame don’t look real but rather like a Halloween costume on a reluctant participant.

“Hyung,” Jungkook repeats, gripping Jimin’s shoulder tightly. “Hyung—”

“Call the police,” Jimin tells him firmly. “That’s what he wants.” He sees Jungkook give him a dubious look in his peripheral but in front of him, Seokjin nods.

“Please... just end it. Call them.”

Jungkook swallows audibly. “I don’t—”

“Do it, Kook, please. I’ll be ok. I just want to hear him talk. Trust me.”

Jimin glances over at his friend and assures him with a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. After hesitating, Jungkook swings his light towards the hallway and leaves. Jimin can hear the moment he starts talking to the dispatcher, frantic and pleading.

“You were there,” Jimin begins, watching Seokjin tremble and sink to his knees before sitting down on the cool floor.

“I-I was in love with her,” the man admits. “I was in love with her and she used me. I did whatever she wanted.”

Holding the light in place, Jimin steels himself for the truth. “What did she want you to do?”

“She knew I was in love with her... I made it so obvious after two years of being her graduate assistant... so when she asked me to spy on her husband, I was confused.” Seokjin hugs his knees to his chest and stares off into the distance. “I thought maybe if they were having problems, I could get her to leave him... and that’s when I noticed you. I heard you talking to him. I told her about you.”

Shit.

Jimin sucks in a breath. When did this happen? Recently or had Seokjin known about him and Yoongi from the beginning?

“That was a mistake,” Seokjin hisses. “She became obsessed with you, trying to figure out if you were cheating with Yoongi, but there was more to it... and she wanted me to find out more about where you came from and what you meant to him. I asked you questions. I watched you. I followed your friends and I did the research she asked....” he closes his eyes tightly, rocking his body slightly. “It wasn’t enough... I had to do more.“

“Seokjin-hyu— Seokjin, did she force you to do this stuff? Did she threaten you?”

Seokjin laughs at that; his head rests atop his knee. “No, I did what she wanted because she would touch me if I was good. She would fuck me if I was good... So, I was good.” He sighs, almost wistfully, and then his eyes are on Jimin again. “I was the one who assaulted you. She wanted your wallet for your ID. Something about needing your address in Busan. I didn’t want to do it. I was nervous, but she said they were doing maintainence on the CCTV system and that if I timed it right, I wouldn’t get caught.”

“It was you?” Jimin is struggling to breathe with the revelation of this information. “You pushed me down, you—”

“She made me watch you too. She had these little cameras around the house... I was supposed to watch you with them Jimin-ah, but I told her that I didn’t see anything. The longer I could keep it going, the more rewards I would get. The more she loved me. I knew it would end even if I proved Yoongi was cheating on her, so I only told her what I had to.” He laughs again, but it’s humorless, empty.

Jimin is horrified. “You watched us?”

“I didn’t tell. She didn’t know about Hoseok-ah and you, and I didn’t want to tell her. I like Hoseok-ah, he’s a good kid... but she kept getting mad at me because I wasn’t telling her everything. But she wasn’t telling me everything. She went to Busan and didn’t tell me why but I knew it had something to do with you. She kept researching and researching... but I still didn’t understand. I didn’t understand until that night...

“Before she left again, she told me she loved me. That I was the only man who made her feel this way. She said I was the kind of man she could start a family with. I knew then that I absolutely had to break them up if I was going to have a chance... So when I saw the three of you leave the house, I followed you... You went to her office and I knew I had an opportunity, so I called her.”

“That’s how she knew we were there...” Jimin whispers to himself, realizing that the man who sealed all of their fate is now in front of him. This wasn’t an accident— Seokjin intended for this to happen— well, at least the confrontation between them and Jieun.

Seokjin nods languidly. “I was supposed to go home and wait for her. She said she was just going to confront you, but I didn’t leave. I stayed in the parking lot and when the power went out, I decided to check on her.”

“You stopped her,” Jimin states in absolute awe. “You saw her trying to force me to kill her and you stopped it...”

“I did.”

“You saved me, but why?”

Seokjin casts his gaze down. “I didn’t mean to save you... I just didn’t want her to die.”

The words echo in the room, swirling around them and ringing in Jimin’s ears. Of course, Seokjin was only trying to achieve his goal, not protect a near stranger. But if he was trying to save Jieun, how did he end up killing her?

“Why did you kill her?” Jimin dares to ask, just as the police come pounding down the hallway, nearing the closet door. He can hear Jungkook yelling at them frantically, his voice high and drifting along the walls.

The dead look in Seokjin’s eyes contrasts the smirk crawling on his lips. “She lied to me.”

The police come barging down the hall, their guns drawn and flashlights blinding. Jimin can only back up, his body hitting the wall as they run past him and yell at Seokjin to put his hands up, which he does without argument. They throw him to the ground on his stomach to put the handcuffs on him, and his eyes never once leave Jimin as they do so. They haul him up roughly, and that’s when Seokjin deigns to speak again.

“Jimin-ah, can you get that trash bag over there?” he inclines his head towards the corner of the room. “The knife is in it.”

A police officer yells at him to shut up, but another argues that they need the evidence. But before Jimin can move, one of them retrieves the trash bag, opening it up and grimacing as he checks it with his flashlight. “It’s in here,” he says, and then it begins—

Seokjin’s judgment.

The police walk in front of Jimin and Jungkook with their suspect, having no choice but to parade him out of the building and through the quad to reach their patrol cars.

Jimin can pinpoint the exact moment every student and media member in the vicinity notices what’s happening— There’s a minute or so of complete silence as Seokjin emerges from the exit and steps foot on the sidewalk.

Some people are shocked, mouths opened, eyes widened; others are impassive, faces devoid of expression, but Seokjin is crying, face puffy and eyes bloodshot. It’s his sobs that are loud even in the frenzy that follows, officers trying to hold the media back, students screaming out random things.

Everything is just white noise in Jimin’s ears as he walks with Jungkook behind the officers; the only thing he truly hears is Seokjin, crying, sniffling, mumbling out pleas for death that no human should ever request.

Of all the emotions Jimin feels walking the procession, pity is the one he least expected, but he had once held Seokjin’s mind in his hands— that damn book Lolita— and he read his thoughts scrawled in the margins, desperate to justify his obsession.

How odd it is now to see Seokjin asking for his penance. He was a slave to his love, chasing Jieun mindlessly, and now that she’s gone, so is Seokjin’s reason to live freely.

Just as they see the patrol cars ahead, parked haphazardly up on the curbs and sidewalks of the quad, Yoongi and Hoseok pull up, both of them stumbling out of the car.

The moment they see Seokjin, they freeze right in the path of the officers, and time slows as Seokjin is led right past them covered in Jieun’s blood, eyes pouring tears.

Their eyes meet, and Jimin wonders what each one of them sees there, the motive behind every action they’ve made to get to this point.

Because if it’s anything like what Jimin saw in Jieun’s eyes as she looked down upon him in her lap, fingers running over his lips as she spoke about his father, about Yoongi and Hoseok, it’s something far more dangerous than psychosis—

It’s love.

————————————

They stand in the small space, huddled around the mirrored window that looks into the interrogation room. Seokjin is on the other side of the glass, staring in their direction though Jimin knows he can’t really see them the way they can view him. His face holds no emotion— the look of someone who has given up entirely.

Yoongi and Hoseok stand at his side with Jungkook behind them. Namjoon and two other officers are conversing in the corner before one leaves and Namjoon approaches to address them.

“I will conduct the interview now and my colleague will stay with you in this room,” he explains, gesturing. “Afterwords, despite the outcome, I’ll need you to verify your statements for the report.”

They all agree with solemn nods and then Namjoon exits, reappearing on the other side of the window in the interrogation room. Seokjin glances over at the officer, apathetic.

After Namjoon gets everything set up, the interview begins and everyone falls silent, anxious to understand. Namjoon’s voice filters in from the speakers above their heads.

“Kim Seokjin, as it stands right now, you are suspected in the murder of Jung Jieun seeing as how you had evidence of homicide in your possession and on your person. If at any time you feel as if you need to request legal counsel, you may do so. You have the right to retain your statement until the time that counsel is provided to you. Do you understand?”

Seokjin doesn’t blink. “Yes.”

“Do you wish to make a statement regarding your role in the murder of Jung Jieun?”

“Yes,” Seokjin admits, swallowing hard. “I... killed her.”

Namjoon checks the recorder and settles in his seat. “Explain to me what happened.”

Jimin squirms on his feet as Seokjin relives what he told Jimin in the basement, explaining how he was infatuated with Jieun from the moment he began to work for her and how despite her being married, he still had hope that they could be together someday. He details the beginnings of their affair, how he knew she might be leading him on, but that he didn’t care. There was always a little voice telling him that it could be real, and that maybe if the circumstances were right, she would love him back.

Beside Jimin, Yoongi is resolute and unflinching as he hears the story of another man desiring his wife, how Jieun twisted and manipulated someone else, though vastly different from his own experience. When Seokjin is asked how often he and Jieun were intimate in some form and he answers “nearly every day”, Yoongi’s jaw clenches, but that’s the extent of his emotion.

Hoseok, on the other hand, looks furious. He’s been holding it in well despite everything, but since the police told them to come to the station, his entire demeanor has been nothing but hostile, sneering at the scene of Seokjin asking for water or if they could loosen the cuffs on his hands because his hands were going numb.

Jimin can only imagine how conflicted Hoseok must feel inside to know that though he no longer has to suffer under Jieun, her life was cut short in a gruesome manner by someone he once looked up to and trusted. Sure, the sudden freedom was always desired, but not like this.

Never like this.

Slowly, he reaches out to grab his lover’s hand and Hoseok startles at being touched, but then his fingers lock with Jimin’s. A tear slips down his cheek; he bites a trembling lip.

During the initial questioning, the door to their room opens and Taehyung is let inside and as soon as Jungkook sees him, he runs over and the two embrace.

“I’m sorry, Kookie. I tried to come as soon as you called but I was visiting family with Wonho,” Taehyung explains, then he looks over towards Jimin, face stricken with concern. “Are you ok? Actually, just come here—”

He strides across the space and pulls Jimin into a hug, and though he and Taehyung aren’t as close as he and Jungkook are, the support from a stranger breaks him down and he begins to cry.

A hand comes to rest on his back and then Yoongi is leaning in close. “Shh, baby, it’s ok. Let’s listen in now.”

Jimin nods, wiping at his face with his sleeve before focusing again on the interrogation.

“So let me clarify— You decided to check on Jieun in the Sciences building after you told her that Min, Jung, and Park had went in together.” Seokjin nods, so Namjoon continues on. “You also told her that you caught them together on camera being intimate and that’s what upset her and caused her to want to confront them?”

“Yes.”

“Sick fucker,” Hoseok whispers. Jimin frowns.

“What did you find when you went in there?”

Seokjin sniffles, eyes red-rimmed but still focused on the glass window. “She was just supposed to catch them and confront them. I thought I would walk in on a screaming match but... it was worse than that.” He blinks a few times. “The power was out, so the key card system wasn’t working, so I used my admin key in one of the emergency exits. I figured they would be in her office, but no one was there. Something was... wrong. There was stuff thrown everywhere and knocked over, like a fight had happened, but I got really worried when I saw the syringe lying on the ground.”

“What was your first thought when you saw it?” Namjoon prods.

“She had always been desperate when it came to Yoongi, but I didn’t think she was capable of something so... crazy. I ran out into the hallway because I knew she had done something terrible, and that’s when I heard this faint crying coming from one of the labs...” he trails off, mouth gaping open like words are trying to fall out, but his eyes tear up instead.

Namjoon waits for a few moments, then tries to move the conversation along. “What did you see in that lab, Seokjin-ssi?”

“S-She had Jimin in her lap, facing her, and she was trying to... to force him to stab her in the back.”

“How do you know she was forcing him?”

Seokjin rubs at the wetness beneath his eyes. “I thought he was dead at first because his head was hanging and his eyes were fluttering but his lips kept moving like he was trying to say something. She had her hand over his on the knife and she kept trying to line it up behind her and I just... reacted.

“I rushed in and yanked the knife out of her hand and then pulled her away from Jimin. By then he had passed out. She was so angry with me... but I couldn’t let her do that. She was trying to die by his hand, maybe to frame him or something, but I couldn’t let her do that. Not after everything we did, not after all the promises she made me. I begged her to stop... I told her how much I loved her... and then she asked me for another favor.”

“What was that favor?”

Seokjin is picking at his fingers now, lost in the memory. “She said she had sedated Yoongi and Hoseok too and that she regretted it. She wasn’t thinking— she was just so overcome with emotion. I offered to help calm her down and she said she needed some space, but that it would be best if I took them home for her.”

“Did you?”

“I did. I managed to get Jimin to his dorm. He had vomit and spit all over him, so I cleaned him up. I... didn’t want him to remember, so I took his dirty clothes. After that, I loaded both Yoongi and Hoseok up in my car and took them home. When I came back to campus, I called Jieun to come outside but then I saw her walking to the Humanities building, so I followed her. I found her in the foreign languages lab.”

“Why do you think she went there and didn’t stay in the other building?” Namjoon is quick with questions, tone leaving no room for anything but professionalism.

“The only thing I can think of is that she knew what would happen,” Seokjin explains, “She picked that room because of how it’s laid out, tables lined up against the wall, lots of open space in the middle. When I walked in, she was just standing there, looking at me. I’ll never forget that look, because I instantly realized my mistake— she still wanted to die.”

Everyone holds a collective breath as Seokjin’s eyes widen and all humanity leaves his cold gaze.

“She called me stupid. She said every time I touched her, she wanted to throw up. She just started telling me everything, how she was using me, what she did to Yoongi, who she really was to Hoseok. How much she hated Jimin and she wanted him to suffer. It was... a lot. I never saw her like that, I never knew how horrible she truly was...”

Namjoon raises his brows at that. “How did that make you feel?”

“Angry,” Seokjin confesses, working his jaw. “I was just a tool to her, just like them. All the things I did for her, all the times we made love, all the hope she gave me... She tore it all away in a matter of seconds and when I told her I was leaving, she spit on me.”

“She became verbally abusive?”

Seokjin lets out a humorless laugh. “No, she actually spit on me and I... lost it. She turned her back to me, like she couldn’t even stand the sight of me, and I saw the knife... She had put it on the desk near the door and I grabbed it and then I... did it.”

“What exactly did you do?”

“I killed that bitch,” Seokjin whispers, shocking everyone. “I stabbed her in the back just like she did me and I couldn’t stop myself! I just kept sliding it in and out, in and out. When I got tired, I counted them— Thirty-seven, ironic, because her birthday was coming up and I had already bought her a gift.” He lets out more strangled laughter.

“It was a ring, nothing fancy, but I felt like she could wear it when we were together, but not anymore.... I kicked her over and stared down at her for a long time, thinking over every fucking lie she made me believe, and I kept coming back to just one— that she wanted a family with me. So I decided to give her what she wanted so badly. I took her arms and I posed her like she was holding nothing because that’s what she deserved— nothing.”

“You believe she provoked you into killing her,” Namjoon states.

At this, Seokjin’s composure dissolves completely and he cradles his head in his cuffed hands, face reddening as he begins to sob once more. “Yes... but I still wanted to do it. I knew she wanted it, but I couldn’t let her leave me like that—” He hiccups as he cries, rubbing at his eyes and pulling at the cuffs in distress.

“Did you leave afterwards?”

Seokjin shakes his head and swallows. “No... I knew I had to clean up as much as I could, but I had blood on me, so I took off my shoes and put them and the knife in the bag I pulled from the trash can in the classroom. Then I went to my car and changed into the dirty clothes I took off of Jimin and bagged up these.” He gestures to the blood-encrusted clothes on his body. “After that, I thought about the Sciences building and I went back and straightened up her office, cleaned up Jimin’s vomit in the hall and lab.”

“Then you just went home.”

“Well, I stopped by Jieun’s house one more time to get her hidden cameras. I didn’t want them to be found and traced back to me somehow. But after that, yeah, I went home,” Seokjin admits, hiding his face. “Are we done? I just want this to all be over.”

Namjoon nods his head, his face grim but laced with pity. “Yeah, we’re done here.”

The officer rises to his feet, collects the recorder, and leaves the room, presumably to begin the process of officially charging Seokjin with the murder.

Jimin feels the breath in his lungs rush out all at once, his eyes trained on Seokjin, the man who killed with his perfect hands, who sits there wearing another’s blood, who saved him from being another of Jieun’s victims even if that wasn’t his intention.

Despite Seokjin’s singular focus on attaining Jieun, Jimin is grateful. If Seokjin hadn’t stopped her, Jimin would’ve had red on his hands, sin staining his shirt, and a life marked by an irreversible threshold.

He wants to despise Seokjin, like he was taught throughout his life, but in this moment he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t, because he looks at the fractures in Seokjin’s psyche, the desperation in his actions and knows that the man sees Jimin’s faults as well through the window.

But there’s no justification for murder. There’s moments of passion, of fear and self-defense. But there’s no excuse for taking a weapon in your hands with the intent to snuff out your own pain by snuffing out a life. But as Namjoon comes back into the interrogation room and informs Seokjin of what will happen next, he can’t help but think of one particular thing, said in comfort to him so long ago—

“...innocence is subjective...”

He understand what Namjoon meant now, about placing your trust in those around you rather than yourself. It’s not a weakness, but it can be mistaken and misused. Innocence can be exploited and twisted, misunderstood by the world. You can lose it within yourself, hide it away and forget it. You can choose to ignore it or try to smother it.

But it can never truly be taken from you.

It will always be there.

Hoseok squeezes his hand, turning to him with sad eyes, the innocence of a lost brother.

Yoongi talks to an officer that has walked in, composing himself enough to give an official statement, the innocence of a determined protector.

Jungkook asks if he’s ok, if he needs anything at all, the innocence of forgiveness.

And Jimin shakes his head, taking a deep breath.

The innocence of hope for the future.

————————————

The funeral comes before Seokjin’s trial, but the three of them don’t go to either event. They aren’t called as witnesses, since the evidence against Seokjin is overwhelming, and even if they wanted to go, getting to Jieun’s furneral proved nearly impossible.

The media has gotten ahold of the complete story— one of the biggest murder cases on this side of Seoul— and when the police gave their official statement, everything changed.

Their sordid tale was suddenly everywhere, the worst details sniffed out by reporters or leaked from somewhere within the police agency. Everything from Yoongi’s past with Jimin, his assault at the hands of Jieun, to Hoseok’s real parentage and supposed psychosis is all public information now. This made it difficult to even keep to themselves, but the real chaos began when it was somehow revealed that Jimin was also related to Hoseok and that he was sleeping with both men right underneath Jieun’s nose.

Suddenly, there was nowhere to hide, Jieun and Seokjin’s faces everywhere, discussions about Jieun’s “house of heathens” splashed across tabloids and online. It’s as if the layered depth of the possible motives and actual perpetrator made the story that much more sensational, and for the last two weeks, life for Jimin and his lovers has been hell.

Both Hoseok and Jimin have been expelled from school. Yoongi was fired. Jimin got a message from Jihyun telling him that he shamed the family and that he was dead to them. His mother called and her voicemail was nothing but her crying, asking why he would do this to her.

Hoseok’s parents, who he still struggles to think of as grandparents, have threatened to pursue charges against him for various things, convinced that he somehow had a hand in Jieun’s death or public shaming.

Yoongi has had it easier in the respect that he has no family to harass him, but the media likes to remind everyone of his “tendencies towards pedophilia” and how he was involved with two men younger than him behind the back of his wife.

Everywhere they look, everything they see and hear is about them, about the case, about the true meaning of insanity and if she was the one driving them crazy or if they drove her crazy, and then that in turn drove Seokjin to murder.

This outcome in itself is the true definition of insanity.

They can’t leave the house. The media is outside their door constantly. People have attempted to break in. There is graffiti of slurs all over the outside walls. The local police have tried to help, but even if they get the area around their house clear, they can’t make the rest of the street safe, or the grocery store, or the any of the places they need to move on with their life. Jungkook and Taehyung are the only way they can get food or necessities, but even that is becoming more difficult by the day.

They can’t watch tv, they can’t listen to the radio, they can’t even walk around in the house without being reminded.

At one point, Yoongi throws all of Jieun’s stuff in the garage in a fit of rage— all the pictures, all her bath products, makeup, office work— everything. And then he moves his stuff into Hoseok’s room and they just exist in a trance, lying together at night and suffering through awkward lapses of silence and hours of nothing but themselves and Jungkook’s game console to keep them entertained.

Sometimes they cry, usually one or two of them at a time, mostly out of pure frustration, but sometimes it’s out of something far more visceral. Jimin is getting tired of waking up suddenly from a nightmare, with the tips of his fingers tingling and a scream dying on his lips. The few moments he’s still half-asleep and believes that he just killed her are the moments that are the worst.

Sometimes Yoongi sleeps on the couch having drank too much or if he is too fitful. Sometimes Hoseok clings to Jimin the whole day, simply touching him in anyway he can just to feel grounded.

Sometimes, when the nights are long and the days are excruciatingly empty, they make love, the three of them, and it usually starts with a glance, a confession, a kiss on the forehead or the chin. They dissolve into need, breath and skin. Stuttered moans and raised legs, slapping pelvises, and dragging fingertips. Hoseok asking to be devoured, Yoongi pressing his handprints into flesh. Jimin taking it all in and exhaling it out into their mouths, balancing the emotions threatening to consume them. They fit together so seamlessly that those times they blank out and can’t remember what it was like to feel, they memorize the way their hands fit together and hold onto that.

When the house becomes less of a haven and more of a hell, Taehyung invites them to stay at his cousin’s place in Ilsan. It’s tricky to get them out of the house without being chased, but some of Taehyung and Wonho’s friends offer to be decoys to get the media off their backs.

When the car hits the highway and no one is following them, Jimin lets out a sigh of relief. It’s nice to be outside again, to feel the sun on his skin. They drive in silence and the three lovers enjoy hearing both Taehyung and Jungkook prattle on about random topics and tease each other.

When they arrive in Ilsan, nobody asks them anything other than what food they like, which bedroom they want, and if they mind that Taehyung’s cousin stays up to paint most nights. They are happy to answer such mundane questions and later that night, everyone gathers around the low-sitting table and shares a meal.

Jimin learns that Taehyung’s cousin, Seungjae, is a very nice man, older than Yoongi by five years. He’s ambitious and open-minded, which explains why he’s ok with three polyamorous men whose dirty secrets scroll along the tv constantly living with him. He has the same boxy smile as Taehyung and is even more quirky, which Hoseok finds appealing. Yoongi likes the fact that he’s also into classical music and offers to play the piano for him sometime. Jimin likes that Seungjae doesn’t once stray from acting as if everything is completely normal, poking fun at them and fussing over being the best possible host.

For the six months they live with Seungjae, using up the last dregs of savings that Jieun’s death left Yoongi, which he splits between paying Seungjae for living expenses and keeping the house back in Seoul that has proven difficult to sell. Jungkook and Taehyung come over almost every other week to see them and each time Jimin feels a little better.

Tonight, he smiles and it feels weird on his lips, but he does it anyway because deep down he can admit that he does feel joy again. The food is good and everyone is laughing and sipping at their soju. Seungjae is keeping the conversation going, easing them into things like he always does. It’s when an offhand remark about the future comes up that everything changes. Seungjae clears his throat and glances around the table nervously.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to bring this up, but I’ll be moving to America by the end of the year.”

Jimin blinks. They will have to go somewhere else now and he’s terrified at the thought. They’ve just gotten used to going out in Ilsan for various errands, but they still get recognized, they still see her everywhere. Of course he knew they couldn’t stay here forever, but he hoped that when they ventured out on their own, they would be in a better position to handle everything such a move would ask of them.

“But,” Seungjae continues, “my father works in the government, specifically immigration, and he can get visas expedited. So... I was wondering if you three wanted to come with me.”

Yoongi nearly drops a bite of his food. “Really? W-What would we do there?”

“I’ll be blunt, it will be honest work for you, since a student visa is not an option. But you said you used to tinker on cars? You could learn to be a mechanic. I’m looking to start a small business and I’ve got some connections in the community there.” Seungjae turns his attention to Jimin and Hoseok. “As for you both, you could probably get student visas if you’re still interested in school.”

“I’ll work with hyung,” Hoseok blurts out, resolute in his decision. “I was never interested in school when I was there and I’m a quick learner with most things. I just need a good scene for dancing and I’m a happy man.”

Seungjae smiles at that. “What about you, Jimin-ah?”

“Oh...” Placing his chopsticks down, Jimin thinks it over. All eyes are on him but he doesn’t know where to begin.

He never thought he would leave Korea, let alone go to America. He always felt like it was a far off dream that he could only achieve if he was rich or if he became famous for something. But now it’s a possibility and his heart races at the thought, not because America is some idolized land of gold for most, but because if they moved, they wouldn’t have to hide anymore. They wouldn’t have to live in a constant state of paranoia or resentment. It would be a fresh start in every sense— new country, new paths, new language, new hope.

“If we can really move, I still want to go to school,” Jimin answers before swallowing down his anxiety. “But not for dance. I can do that as a hobby. I want to go for... psychology.”

The table falls silent. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and Taehyung is trying to avoid eye contact by scooping up more dumplings. Seungjae is looking at him curiously, but the only opinions Jimin really cares about are from the people sitting beside him.

He turns to Hoseok who is smiling softly at him. He turns to Yoongi who looks like he’s trying not to cry, but not because he’s sad, but because he’s happy.

“I want to help people, like Jungkook helped me, like you all helped me,” Jimin explains, leaving it at that because the rest is obvious.

Seungjae clears his throat. “Alright, well, it looks like Dr. Park here will be the sugar daddy in the relationship.”

Jungkook screeches with laughter at this. Taehyung follows, causing a dumpling to slip out of his mouth and land on the table. Hoseok laughs at the accident and soon the tension is forgotten, a familiar ease falling over the room, which Seungjae proposes a toast to.

“I’ll miss you though if you leave,” Jungkook says, pouting.

“It’s ok, you can visit when you want and you can come with Taehyung for the wedding,” Seungjae assures, but his cousin’s face reddens at the comment.

Jimin looks around, confused. “What wedding?”

“Um... I’m engaged,” Taehyung admits, holding up his left hand to show off a shiny metal band.

“To who?” Hoseok squeaks, practically crawling out of his seat.

Taehyung blushes furiously, but Jungkook answers for him. “It’s Wonho!”

Jimin smiles and this time it doesn’t feel strange at all. He cheers with everyone, offering his congratulations and hugging the older boy tightly. Hoseok is absolutely going nuts, picking his friend up and twirling him around. Amidst the celebration, Jimin looks over to Yoongi and finds him staring back, expression sheepish.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but Yoongi breaks out in a smile.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how I can’t wait to finally start my life with the both of you.”

Jimin smiles and it feels right.

—————————————————

One year later

Mesa, Arizona, United States

The sound of music wakes Jimin before the sun can, the loud beat and rapid-fire lyrics echoing through the room. On the nightstand, Hoseok’s phone is buzzing, blaring some rap song.

“What the actual fuck, Seok?” Yoongi grumbles, rolling over onto his side and pulling Jimin into his bare chest sleepily.

Hoseok yawns and leans over to silence his phone. “I’m sorry. It’s Minsuk. There’s a race tonight. I forgot tell him I wasn’t coming.”

“Hoseok, I swear, if another one of your street racing buddies wakes me up at three a.m. again, I’ll bury you on that track.”

Jimin snuggles further into Yoongi and pouts. “Stop it. I’m trying to sleep.”

“We’re all trying to sleep. That’s the problem.” Yoongi reaches over and lightly smacks Hoseok upside the head. “Are you kidding me? You knew Jimin has his first day of classes tomorrow.”

“Oh? So it was ok when you kept us all up with how horny you were but I get yelled at for an accident?”

“Seok, don’t start with me.”

“Or what?”

Jimin pushes himself up until he can look both of his lovers in the eye. “Stop! I’m fine. My first class isn’t until eleven, so if we all calm down, we can go back to sleep. It was just an accident.”

“Whatever,” Yoongi huffs.

Hoseok makes a face at that.

Jimin clears his throat. “You guys,” he warns, tone firm. “This is a stupid argument and you know it.”

Sighing heavily, Yoongi leans over and gives Hoseok a kiss. “There,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry, Seok. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“You’re forgiven, hyungie,” Hoseok answers, puckering his lips again dramatically.

Yoongi gives in, letting his kiss linger longer this time and Jimin smiles, satisfied. He curls back into Yoongi with Hoseok at his back, and the three drift off again. The next time he wakes, it’s because of the sun.

Mornings in their cramped apartment are always slightly chaotic. For one, they really don’t have much space, but it’s a roof over their head, and living in one of the few pockets of Korean community actually makes them feel more at home. So even though it’s not luxury, it works for them and their needs.

While Jimin makes a quick breakfast, Yoongi and Hoseok shower together and get dressed in their usual garage fare— grease-stained shirts and worn jeans. Sometimes they’ll wear cover-alls or jumpsuits, but Jimin much prefers when they look like bad boys in their grungy outfits. He doesn’t like washing the oil out of their clothes though; it’s always a bitch to pre-treat the laundry.

“How are you getting to school?” Yoongi asks, accepting his breakfast and kissing Jimin on the cheek. “Hoseok and I will have the bikes.”

“I’ll go with you to the garage and then Seungjae-hyung will take me to campus. He said he can’t do it everyday though, so we’ll have to figure something out.”

They don’t have a car just yet, because the project cars at the garage aren’t reliable and they can’t exactly afford to get a used one just yet with other bills to pay. So Yoongi and Hoseok both have motorcycles to get to and from work and they borrow cars from the guys at the garage if they need to get groceries. Hoseok offered to ride with Yoongi to work everyday so Jimin can have the other bike, but when they tried to teach him how to ride, Jimin definitely did not like it one bit. He has no idea how they do it; it feels like he’s strapped to a speeding metal death trap.

“Something will work out,” Hoseok assures, grabbing a plate of his own. “You excited for class?”

Jimin smiles down at the pan he’s cooking in. “Yeah. I’m glad it’s finally here because I’ve been going crazy being here or helping Seungjae-hyung with paperwork. I swear I learned more English just by trying to get his office organized than by actually studying it.”

Even though he immediately began studying when they applied for visas, nothing compared to actually interacting with people or having to find things on his own.

“Hey, you’re still better than me,” Hoseok teases. “The only things I can say are related to food, cars, weed, or sex.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Who would you be talking about sex with?”

“I tried to buy condoms at the market in town once and I couldn’t explain what I wanted so I had to use hand gestures and the cashier was not amused. So I had to learn.” Hoseok shrugs at this, shoving his breakfast in.

“You’re shameless.”

Hoseok grins and swallows, making a little “ahh” sound as he does so. Yoongi rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but the younger isn’t deterred. “What are you going to wear to class, baby?” he asks Jimin, who is currently wearing just his boxers and a silk robe.

“Your favorite. It’s my lucky outfit.”

Hoseok has stars in his eyes. “The soft baby blue shirt with your acid-washed jeans? Oh my god, you’re so cute when you wear that.” He jumps up and pulls Jimin into a hug, kissing all over his face until Jimin squirms away, giggling.

“Ugh, you and your weird pastel kink,” Yoongi complains though he’s smiling.

“You have a thing for him in leather so I don’t want to hear it,” Hoseok fires back. “And, let’s not forget the night you wouldn’t stop trying to jump on my dick after I got my tattoo.” He lifts his shirt and flashes his lower stomach, the dark lines of his oriental dragon winding down his hip and disappearing into his jeans.

Yoongi visibly swallows, eyes lingering on Hoseok’s body. When he doesn’t deny it, Hoseok smirks.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Well, you lost your shit when I got my nipples pierced!” Yoongi blurts out, clearly flustered. “You fucking sucked them raw after they healed up.”

“I’ll suck you raw right now,” Hoseok teases with a waggle of his brows. He leans over and stares Yoongi down. He licks his lips slowly.

“Can we please focus on the day ahead?” Jimin interjects, though his two lovers together wouldn’t be a bad way to start the day, but he can’t afford any delays on his first day of university.

Yoongi snaps out of the trance Hoseok put him in. “Y-Yeah, Seok. Think about Jimin’s needs.” He rises from the table and puts his plate in the sink.

Hoseok smacks Jimin on the ass. “I can cater to his needs too,” he yells after Yoongi.

Jimin sighs, amused.

Another typical morning.

After breakfast, Jimin changes, making sure he looks presentable for school. He’s nervous, but excited because he finally feels like it’s the beginning of a whole new life, one he truly believes in, one where he can make a difference. With one final look in the mirror, he flicks off the bathroom light.

The ride over to the garage is short, seeing as how it’s fairly close to where they live, and as they pull up, Jimin sees the other mechanics setting up for the day. Seungjae managed to start this business with the little he had saved up and help from the community, but it’s actually pretty nice and over the last year, they’ve been earning a reputation for being a reliable and affordable place for all automotive needs.

Yoongi brings them to a stop and turns off the bike, helping Jimin down and offering to comb his hair back into place.

“Well, here comes trouble!”

Jimin looks over to see one of the mechanics, Gunhee, waving at them as he gets a car on the lift.

“You brought my favorite person,” Gunhee tells Yoongi as they stride into the garage, Hoseok following behind. “Hey, Jimmy, can you understand me?” he asks in English, teasing.

Jimin rolls his eyes but humors him anyway. “Yes, I understand you.”

The mechanic’s eyes light up. “Good, because now your boyfriends won’t yell at me when I tell you that you look cute today,” he continues and Jimin doesn’t catch every word, but he understands enough to get the point. He’ll have to ask questions about his confusion later so that he can look up what he doesn’t know.

“Back off, Gunhee,” Yoongi warns in Korean and Gunhee gapes.

“You understood that? What the fuck?”

“I understand a lot of things, I just don’t like talking to people,” Yoongi retorts.

Hoseok laughs, pulling out the rolling toolboxes they need and getting them in place on the mat. “I have no idea what’s going on but I love it.”

“Gun was hitting on your boy again,” Kai, another of the mechanics, explains, moving the can of washed grease rags across the floor.

Gunhee throws his hands up. “No, I was complimenting him. Jesus, everyone calm the fuck down.”

The group of them laugh good-naturedly, but Jimin knows not everyone in the garage is amused. When they had first gotten here, they told everyone they were cousins, but that quickly went out the window when they were all out at a party one night and a guy grabbed Jimin’s ass. Both Hoseok and Yoongi were already a few drinks in and lost their shit, and after that it was hard to deny what the true nature of their relationship was.

Only a select few people are actually ok with them being gay and in a three-way relationship, but they’re all immigrants in some form and the threat of Seungjae firing them keeps them in line. By now, Jimin is used to the stares and off-handed comments. As long as they don’t bother him, he won’t bother them.

Getting comfortable on the worn couch near the office cubicle, Jimin checks his email to see if there’s anything else he needs before classes start. There’s a few hours left before he has to leave, so he gets some change off Gunhee and gets a soda from the vending machine while he watches everyone start their day.

Soon, Seungjae comes out of the office with a bright grin and claps his hands together. “Listen up gentlemen, today we have a full schedule thanks to the oil change promotion. Remember any cancellations go on the board and then you can fill the slots with any walk-ins but make sure to account for your time properly. I’ll be gone for a few hours to help Jimin out, but while I’m gone, Min is in charge.” A chorus of yes, sir’s ring out and then everyone sets off to do their own thing.

“Good morning,” Jimin tells his hyung when Seungjae walks over to him. “I’m Jimin. I’m twenty-one years old and I’m from South Korea. It’s nice to meet you.”

Seungjae grins and gives him a little applause. “Good job! Your English is definitely improving! I think you’ll be fine. Remember if you have trouble, the university provides translators in clubs and at the study sessions.”

“I know,” Jimin replies, locking his phone. “But I want to try by myself first and then I’ll get help.”

“Look at you, so independent.” Seungjae sighs and looks over to where Hoseok and Yoongi are arguing over something, both pointing inside the open hood of a car. “It’s a good thing they have you or I’d hate to see them kill each other.”

Jimin laughs at that. “I’m going to be busy a lot so hopefully they won’t get to that point. You’ll be two mechanics down then.”

“Yeah, my lead mechanic and his eager apprentice.” Seungjae shoves his hands in his pockets and whistles. “Hey Min, you said you wanted to borrow the Supernova this weekend? Well, you can have it.”

Hoseok immediately tears away from the argument with Yoongi and bounds over towards them. “The Supernova? Seriously, you’re letting him actually touch it? Excuse me for being weird, but I have sexual attraction to that car.”

Pushing his way between Hoseok and his boss, Yoongi casts a disgusted glance at his brash lover before addressing Seungjae. “Really? I can borrow it? I didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“Well, you’ve proven your trustworthiness. But I have two conditions. One, only you can drive it,” Seungjae intones, “and two, if I find out Hoseok races it, even if he does win, I’ll ship both your asses back to Korea and Jimin-ah and I will send you postcards every month.”

Jimin giggles at the way Hoseok pouts indignantly, arms crossed over his chest. Yoongi, though, seems estatic and bows at the waist.

“Thank you so much.”

Seungjae brushes off the formality with a clap on the shoulder. “Well, I’ve got to get the books out for the day and then I’ll take you to class, ok, Jimin-ah?”

“Thank you!”

Their boss leaves with a small nod and then Hoseok is grabbing Yoongi by the shoulders, eyes wild. “Why did you ask for the Nova, huh? Is it because you know one of my fantasies is to fuck you on the hood of it?”

“Eww, will you calm down? And be quieter,” Yoongi hisses, looking around the garage. “No, I asked for it because I want to take you guys somewhere... special.”

“Where?” Jimin asks, curious. It’s not like Yoongi to do something like this and then act so weird about it. “Why are you being so shady?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees, leaning into Yoongi’s space. “Tell us.”

Flushing red, Yoongi pulls them aside to whisper. “Fine. I’m taking you outside the city towards the cliffs. Thought we could park, lay down a blanket, and chill. You know, some beer and food, smoke a bowl, look at the stars or whatever...”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok breathes out, “you planned a date for us? Are you Min Yoongi? Are you feeling ok?” He tries to feel the elder’s forehead but Yoongi swats his hand away and frowns.

“I do like to do things for you two, you know. But keep it up and I won’t let you drive the Nova.”

Hoseok snaps his mouth shut.

“Why all of a sudden?” Jimin asks. “You usually don’t like going out of the city, especially towards the desert. You said it’s too dry and dusty.”

Yoongi groans. “It is, but— Look, we’ve all been working so hard without a break and Jimin is starting school... I just thought it would be nice, ok?”

“It is nice. Thank you, Yoongi.” Jimin grins, hugging the elder.

“You’re welcome, Jimin.”

“Hey, I’m ok with it too, I was just asking questions...” Hoseok pouts again, batting his eyes innocently.

Yoongi just glares at him before moving back towards his work area.

“I think I know what’s going on,” Hoseok whispers conspiratorially once the elder is out of earshot.

Jimin raises a brow. “What? What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” his lover teases before Hoseok is off again, giving Yoongi even more grief just for fun.

Soon, Seungjae reappears and then it’s time for them to leave for the university.

When Jimin buckles himself into his seat and the car starts moving past rocky hillsides and caverns covered with cacti, he lets himself feel it—

Excitement.

Finally, he can breathe.

—————————————

Classes went as well as could be expected, considering Jimin hasn’t ever lived in America prior. The school is a little bit different than what he’s used to, but surprisingly most of the professors are accommodating. He’s taking mostly basics this year since he only finished one full semester in Seoul, but he thinks he actually might need to visit the translators for at least two of his classes.

That’s ok though, because he understood a lot more than he originally thought he would, and it’s hard to believe that the shy, concerned boy he once was has no problems raising his hand and asking his teachers to repeat themselves as he flips through his pocket dictionary to look up words.

He’s gotten a couple of odd stares, but for the most part, the American students keep to themselves and he’s never seen so many different types of people. It’s kind of nice to get lost in a crowd like that, with no one who knows his name or cares enough to look into his past.

Sitting in one of the student lobbies with a smoothie, looking out at the cityscape, Jimin actually feels more alive than he has in awhile, and he can’t help but wonder how this would’ve been possible if they hadn’t been through all the shit they had.

Once a day, he lets himself mull over everything that has happened, grieving for their loss, wondering about where he would be right then if he had never met Yoongi or Hoseok. But in all those scenarios, though he might be graduating college in Seoul or back in Busan, he’s not happy, even without the trauma.

Because he wouldn’t roll over in the morning and see both their faces and they wouldn’t hold him at night. He couldn’t rant or cry to them when he’s upset. He couldn’t dance with Hoseok in the middle of the night, slightly tipsy and drunk off love. He couldn’t talk about deep things with Yoongi or read his little diary of lyric ideas with him and tell him how good they are. They couldn’t go shopping and end up buying Hoseok some sugary shit he doesn’t need because he keeps throwing it in the basket when they aren’t looking. Yoongi wouldn’t yell at them for having sex when he’s trying to sleep.

It just... wouldn’t happen.

And that is somehow worse than all the things that have happened.

So Jimin lets himself think about the “what-if’s” once a day, but afterwards, he lives in the present.

He finishes his smoothie and sees that Seungjae has texted him, but when he gets out to the parking lot for his ride, it’s not his hyung who is waiting for him.

The Supernova really is a beautiful retro car, black-on-black, contrasted against the sunset. Yoongi, of course, is in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, careful to keep it outside the window. Hoseok is riding shotgun, bare feet on the dash, wearing a big grin.

“We’ve got everything for the date in the trunk,” Hoseok tells him when he approaches, “we just need a hot little college boy and then everything will be perfect.”

“Good thing I was the first one to talk to you then,” Jimin teases, opening the door and sliding onto the leather seat. “You guys really already got everything?”

“Blankets, beer, food, some camping lamps, and Hoseok’s last score of weed from the races,” Yoongi lists off, getting out momentarily to stub his cigarette out on the concrete. “Oh, and—” he reaches over to pop open the glove compartment and pulls out an envelope to hand to Jimin. “Seungjae-hyung said this came for you in the mail.”

Jimin doesn’t miss the way Hoseok chooses to purposely avoid eye contact to look outside the window, so he already knows what the letter is. He accepts it from Yoongi and looks it over, nodding his head as his suspicions are confirmed.

It’s from Seokjin, carrying the address of the prison he will spend the rest of his life in. They’ve written each other a few times, but the first letter came to the old house on the outskirts of Seoul before Yoongi sold it.

When it arrived, Yoongi acted like it didn’t exist, throwing it away immediately, but Hoseok wanted to burn it. Jimin however, just wanted to see what it could possibly be about, since it was addressed to him after all.

Oddly enough, it was an apology, something a therapist in prison recommended, and the thing that kept Jimin reading it was the fact that Seokjin wasn’t just apologizing to him, but he wrote like he was addressing the world as a whole, and Jimin found the sorrow in his words incredibly relatable.

“You should write a book,” he wrote back. “it doesn’t have to be real, but maybe it would help.”

Jimin has been trying to find his own ways to deal with things, taking up practicing dance at the free workshops in the community centers and exchanging drawings with Taehyung and Jungkook through the mail and online, but he’s thought about writing before. Seokjin, however, seems to have a knack for it, and with each letter Jimin receives, the progress of recovery really shines through.

“Would you help me write something?” Seokjin asked letters ago.

“Yes.”

Jimin isn’t sure which part of the novel Seokjin sent this time, but he’ll have to wait to read it.

Right now, he’s on a date.

Yoongi drives them out west, past the city limits and towards the mesas where the sun beats down relentlessly. The vegetation grows sparse, but the beauty of the landscape doesn’t dwindle in the slightest.

The entire time, Hoseok is messing with the radio, babbling on about his street races and how he eventually wants to build his own car to really compete in them. He’s already filled in for a couple of his friends, and he’s gotten a little reputation because of it. The local guys call him “Jay” since they kept tripping over his Korean name, but Hoseok doesn’t mind one bit. He likes making new friends and then taking their money when his tires squeal across the finish line.

Yoongi thinks it’s reckless and stupid, but Jimin can tell that the elder just likes seeing Hoseok so happy and involved, so he wouldn’t dare ban him from the hobby. Jimin has a similar perspective, but it doesn’t help that Hoseok racing is one of the hottest things he’s ever seen next to Yoongi working on his motorcycle shirtless in the summer swelter.

The sun begins to set eventually, and this far out, the stars look breathtaking as they appear, clusters of them grouped together and so close that Jimin thinks he could reach out and touch them. They find a nice overlook towards a canyon where several tourist outposts are and they park the Nova looking out towards the last rays of the dying sunlight.

Hoseok sets up the radio to a station that plays something more mellow while Yoongi gets the blankets laid down on the dry dirt. It’s dusty, but that hardly matters. Jimin gets the food and drinks out of the back, saving the weed for later after they’ve settled in. It’s really only Hoseok and Yoongi who smoke it, but Jimin usually gets a nice contact high just from inhaling it. He would much rather drink a nice citrusy beer to get his kicks.

By now, the sun has disappeared entirely from the horizon and they enjoy the view, drinking and recalling Jimin’s day while filling up on greasy, salty snacks. The stars keep drawing Jimin’s attention however, looking up at them in awe that across the world, his friends can see the same sky but at a different time, that people hundreds of years ago saw this sky, and people hundreds of years from now will see it too.

As they lay on the blanket, Hoseok decides to speak up. “Does it feel real to you?” he asks, his head propped up on Jimin’s shoulder.

Yoongi sighs and sits up to finish off his second beer. “No. Sometimes this doesn’t feel real and sometimes that doesn’t feel real. Sometimes... I’m not real.”

“I feel that way too,” Jimin agrees, focusing on the constellations, dragging his eyes across the points of light.

Hoseok hums. “Do you ever wish things were different?”

“Never,” both Yoongi and Jimin reply.

“Never,” Hoseok repeats under his breath.

They spend hours just watching the sky, occasionally swearing that they saw a shooting star, and they only move to get more drinks or to piss in the bushes. Hoseok asks if they want to get the bowl ready to smoke, but Yoongi declines, visibly nervous.

“Uh, actually before we do that, can I talk to you guys about something?”

Jimin sits up, pulling his knees to his chest. “Sure. Are you ok though? You look pale.”

“Yeah, hyung, you look like you’re going to throw up,” Hoseok observes.

“I’m fine,” Yoongi insists before taking a few deep breaths, “I just— You both know how important you are to me, right? Like I think I would’ve gone fucking insane without you, and— No, that sounds stupid.” He stops to collect his thoughts. “Ok, so the first time I didn’t get a say in this, but now I want to do this right, so—”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok blurts out, his favorite phrase, “I was right! I was right about this!”

Jimin looks between his lovers, confused. Yoongi looks like he’s seen a ghost and Hoseok is pointing his finger excitedly and practically vibrating where he sits. “Right about what? What’s going on?”

“He’s trying to propose,” Hoseok explains, quickly composing himself and gesturing for Yoongi to continue.

Jimin gapes, turning back to the eldest. “Really? Like... really?”

Blushing furiously, Yoongi mumbles to himself before barreling forward, his words falling out all at once. “I know we can’t do this legally, or really tell anyone, but last time I got married, it was against my will. I hated every fucking second of it and I never thought I would ever do this again, because I was so sure that since I lost Jimin that first time, I would never find someone that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and I... didn’t.

“I found two people and you both have changed my life. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, you stood by me when I was self-depreciating, you took me as I am and most of all, you trusted me to understand you both as well. I can’t describe the way I feel when I look at you guys and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, but I want to remember that feeling always and be reminded of it no matter if we’re together or apart, so...”

He pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, opening and smoothing it out on his leg. “So I thought instead of rings, we could do something more permanent, something to see and know that we will always belong to each other.”

He shows them the paper which has an inked design on it— an idea for a tattoo. Jimin takes it and holds it to where he and Hoseok can look it over, but he’s smiling already.

The three triangles stand in a row with the outside two barely eclipsing the one in the middle, their bottom corners interlocking, almost like their holding onto each other.

Yoongi swallows and points to the design. “So I figured triangles because they have three points and there’s three of us, and then three triangles, because that’s obvious, and then they’re touching because—”

“We get it,” Hoseok teases. “But seriously, hyung, we love it. This is... beautiful. Thank you.”

“Where did you come up with this?” Jimin asks, transfixed by the simplistic yet powerful design.

“Uh, Taehyung and Jungkook suggested it,” Yoongi explains. “I guess it represents ‘past, present, and future’ or ‘body, soul, and spirit’. And you both are all of those things to me...” he trails off, sheepish, and Jimin can no longer stay still.

He leans over and pulls Yoongi into a kiss, the one he always wanted to give him underneath the stars. “Yes,” he breathes against his lips. “My answer is yes.”

Yoongi trembles in his hold, a few tears falling into his cheeks. Hoseok pushes his way into the moment and kisses both of them gleefully.

“I say yes too.”

“Shit,” Yoongi swears, now laughing through his tears. “I was so goddamn nervous. You have no idea. I thought you would laugh at me or tell me I have a tattoo addiction—”

“You do have a tattoo addiction,” Jimin chimes in, “but you’re right. I want to look at myself and see you both there too. Always.”

“Always,” Hoseok concurs, looking up to the sky.

The moment that follows can only be described as metaphysical, something beyond themselves, the universe finally smiling upon them, then Hoseok goes, “So... are we having a ceremony or something because I want to outdo Tae and Wonho. They told me I couldn’t wear neon because it clashed with their theme and I’m still kind of pissed about it.”

Jimin cackles, falling over onto his side while Yoongi tells Hoseok that they’re not doing anything if he thinks that wearing neon is appropriate at any sort of formal gathering even if it was on a beach, and the night moves on, just like it always does.

At one point after the bowl, the three of them fall asleep, tangled together, the humming of wildlife and distant cars in their ears. Jimin wakes up first, eyes opening to still find a dark sky, and he lets his lovers sleep just a bit more because the stillness of the moment is too good to give up. He relieves himself in the bush and then gets a snack out his backpack, but pauses when he sees Seokjin’s letter.

Atop the hood of the Nova he carefully sits, opening it. As always, Seokjin’s neat handwriting greets him and Jimin uses one of their camping lamps to read by.

Jimin-ah,

I hope this letter finds you well. I really do appreciate your thoughtful feedback on my previous writing and I’m happy to say that I’ve finished the entire novel! Crazy, I know, considering I’ll be here for the rest of my life, whether it lasts decades or is cut short by justice. Grim, but true.

Anyways, in my excitement, I ignored the thought of an afterword and I think it would be nice for me to have something personal at the end of such a heavy story. This is what I have sent to you. The afterword, and I hope you like it.

—Kim Seokjin

Jimin folds the initial letter up and then gets started on the afterword, steeling himself for what he’s about to read.

I wanted to start this afterword with a personal thought, but I think it’s better summed up by a quote from a novel that has unknowingly predicted much of my life and the lives of those that have intertwined with mine.

“We loved each other with a premature love, marked by a fierceness that so often destroys adult lives.” — Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

It hasn’t been long since I committed the crime that my premature love resulted in, but I feel now that I can truly reflect on it since it is still so fresh. If I could go back and tell myself one thing, I would look at myself in the mirror and wonder what exactly causes me— a man in his mid-twenties with the world in front of him— to pursue a woman who gave me nothing in return for my very soul. It seems impossible to most that I would ever be pushed to do something so terrible without much reason.

All I can say is this— if you think yourself incapable of the worst, you’ve already committed it. Lust and greed can cause us to idolize and fetishize a person, their body, or what they can do to make us feel pleasure, but we are practicing the very same selfishness when we walk on a busy street and expect others to move out of our way, or when we throw trash on the ground assuming that someone else will pick it up. The outcome is different, the perception is different, but the intent is the same.

I think my mistake wasn’t letting myself be driven to the point of murder, but thinking that I could never be like those within prison walls or selling drugs or pleasure out on the streets, or those hiding in their houses with horrific secrets. I think that was her mistake too, a mirroring of me and every other soul on this planet.

This story isn’t about others mistreating us to the point of insanity, pushing us to commit sins. No, it’s about when we mistreat ourselves by accepting our flaws without critique, without understanding why it is we feel compelled to ignore the truth. I’ve only met a few people who have truly looked within themselves and addressed their issues, and I can say with certainty that most don’t survive it. The ones who do will always bear scars and unfortunately be misunderstood and ostracized because of them.

The letter ends there, and Jimin knows Seokjin intended it that way, a sort of final thought to resonate with the reader. It’s powerful given the context, but Jimin doesn’t live like that anymore, with vague crushing emotions ruling his decisions.

He can’t afford to live like that because he knows that Seokjin is right— he too is one who bears the scars by his own hand, the result of ignoring the true nature of humanity. And though it may seem like Seokjin is warning others to change, that we need to look within and find those ugly truths and change our ways before it’s too late— that’s not what he’s saying.

He’s saying don’t repress our humanity, don’t spit on it, sneer in disgust, and try to smother it because that only breeds it, causes it to become voracious for attention.

That initial innocence at birth means you are blind to everything— good and bad, right and wrong— and as you grow, so too does that innocence, morphing into something even more trusting, more needy. You start trusting in the things you’re taught and in your experiences, and they shape you. But it’s the other part of you, that shadow that embodies everything about yourself that you don’t trust that ultimately decides your fate.

Just like you can’t deny the existence of your shadow behind you as you walk in the sun, you also can’t deny who you really are.

So Jimin will be sure to write his notes in the letter, telling Seokjin what he thinks about this or that, but he’ll tell him not to forget to end with something that makes everything whole and balanced, both that light and shadow, innocence and guilt, because he’s learned that his very own life is an example of both tragedy and joy now.

But he doesn’t regret it, looking up towards the dessert sky littered with little lights while he sits atop the Nova, his lovers peaceful beneath him.

Hoseok was right— it doesn’t feel real, but it is.

They are.

They may struggle with fear from above,
But it won’t always be hard.
They will live on in a lost land of love,
and the rest is just rusty cars and the dust of stars.

lostland.

A novel by Kim Seokjin

Chapter 1– Vanished

“The world comes to Park Jimin in pieces, in sound and color, scent and taste— little fragments of a puzzle dropping into place until everything becomes lucid once more....”

Ending Song