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taehyungiejiminie95 · 6 years

Text

The Necklace

Confused - Yoongi

Warning: Internalised homophobia, strong language

It is written in law that on a child’s 15th birthday, they will be presented with a necklace that will guide them to another necklace, belonging to whom their heart will. These necklaces are forged in the depths of an deep sea facility, and must be requested between the birth of the child and the child’s 1st birthday in order to be fashioned correctly. One must include a small vial of the child’s blood, a lock of their hair, and also sufficient DNA from both biological and (where appropriate) adoptive, fostered or guardians of the child. Failure to comply will result in the disobedient parties being punished accordingly, and the child will need to be taken under the observation of the facility. No child is permitted to surpass their 15th birthday without receiving this gift. Should this – for any reason – happen, the child should report this to their local authorities quickly so that this may be rectified.

You could swear that you know the cute pizza delivery guy. Something about that gummy smile and awkward attitude. It turns out that you do, and it gets much worse when you realise you have the same necklace. There’s just one problem with that - he swears he isn’t gay.

You sigh to yourself as you check your phone, wondering where in the hell your pizza is. It’s only been 20 minutes since you ordered, but you’re hungry, and that means you’re grumpy. Peeking out the curtains, you see a motorbike pull up across the road, and you jump in excitement, rolling over your bed to find a shirt as quickly as possible. You find some old band t-shirt from your emo days and tug it on quickly, before patting your hair down. Then the door knocks in a slightly peculiar way - two quick knocks, a pause, and then another. You think it’s kind of cute,

“Coming!” You shout, running through your apartment, trying not to fall over in your haste. In the back of your mind, you register the need to stop just wearing socks through the house, and either invest in some grippy ones, or just wear shoes. You know full well that you’ll end up hurting yourself at some point.

When you swing the door open, your jaw nearly drops. The man in front of you is absolutely stunning, and you nearly drool all over yourself as you look at him. His motorcycle helmet is matte black, and contrasts amazingly with the mint green fringe poking out of it. The man in a little shorter than you, and quite pale, save for the flustered blush painting his cheeks. You smile a little lopsidedly, leaning against the door frame. You definitely recognise him from somewhere,

“I have your pizza?” The man asks a little nervously, and a name comes to your mind - Yoongo, or something. Yoongi? Yongpo? You can’t remember exactly, but you have a distinct memory of him and some guy hooking up at a college party a few years back. Your smile pulls into a smirk, thinking that he’s game. You’ve always tried to be respectful when flirting with a guy, since a lot of people can be off about that kind of thing, but you definitely have some blurry memory of Yoongo/Yoongi/Yongpo being with your old friend Marcus at some point,

“I mean, I have money to pay you with, but I could umm… Pay in another way if you’d rather?” You say, dropping your voice an octave, and looking down at Yoongi as you bite your lip seductively. Maybe it’s not your best pick up line, and sure it is a little crude, but you’re finding it hard to restrain yourself around this man. It feels like something in your chest is drawing you to him, and your mind is a little foggy. Then the man replies, and the fog clears pretty quickly,

“No, money is perfectly fine. I’m not into that… stuff,” The man spits, his lips curling a little in disgust. In an instant, his face transforms from a perfectly sculpted angel to a snarling dog, looking at you with little more than utter hatred. You back away in shock, just knowing that your cheeks are bright red and there are tears in your eyes. It’s been a while since you’ve faced hate that blatant for being gay, but maybe that’s because you waited to finish college before you came out. You’d been scared that you’d get looked at exactly like this,

“Oh I’m sorry… I thought that… Never mind, here, keep the change, I’m so sorry,” You stutter nervously, trying not to let the tears slip as you snatch your pizza from him, barely registering that you just handed him a £50 note for a £15 order as you shut the door. With the barrier between the two of you, you don’t feel as vulnerable. You take a few deep breaths and screw your eyes shut tightly. For a minute or so, you just wait there, eyes shut. But the longer you think, the more you convince yourself that you were just seeing things. This is the 21st century. Nobody is that homophobic anymore, right?

As the night continues, you find yourself laughing at what had happened. You’re almost certain you’d just overreacted. You absolutely remember him at that party, with Marcus! He was sure as hell gay then, and you’d bet your pizza that it hasn’t changed. You can usually tell if someone isn’t gay, and you really weren’t getting those kinds of vibes from him. Maybe he just had a problem with the band t-shirt. You glance down at it and cringe at it yourself. Yeah, that’s probably it.

It gets to about 11pm and your brain is itching about his name. You’re sure it started with a ‘Y’ but you’re struggling to remember what came after that. With a sigh, you reach for your phone, reducing yourself to actually having to come into contact with people. Socialising is awful, but so is having someone’s name on the tip of your tongue all night. You pull up a random person you knew went to all the parties held during college and send a quick text, hating yourself for even caring enough to send a stupid text:

Me [11:07pm] Hey, I know it’s late but I think I saw someone from college and I can’t remember their name

Jamie [11:08pm] Woah bro, that sucks! Need a hand?

You roll your eyes at the prompt response. Nobody from college really has a life, so you’re hardly surprised. You also inwardly and outwardly cringe at the response of your old ‘friend’. He still talks like he’s in college, and he’s so painfully stupid that you want to bang your head against a wall. Of course you need help! Like you’d ever call for just a catch up!

Me [11:10pm] Please. I think his name begins with a ‘Y’. He delivers pizza now and he’s got green hair. Also, he’s probably got something against emo bands. Ring any bells?

Just as you hit send, you realise how stupid it sounds. You were just ridiculing your own peers for texting ridiculously, and yet here you are at a ludicrous hour thinking about some guy who clearly isn’t into you. And yeah, deep down you know that’s why you’re doing this. It’s because Whatever His Name Is was so incredibly attractive and it hurt your heart to actually look at something so amazing. You sigh and let your head hit the back of the couch, not giving your phone a second glance until quite a while after it buzzes:

Jamie [11:13pm] Yeah I know who you mean! Marcus dated him for a bit. Min Yoongi. Am I right?

Me [12:01am] That’s him. Thanks. And you say he was with Marcus? What happened?

You text back with a slight frown, wishing you’d replied sooner. What if Jamie was already asleep? You can feel your hands shaking with anticipation, but luckily your phone signals a reply quite promptly:

Jamie [12:04am] I’m not sure. Marcus wouldn’t tell me. I can find out for your bro, I’ll call you next week!

You groan aloud at the prospect of having a genuine phone conversation with him. Sure, he’s been helpful, but he’s annoying and he was loud in college, and he’s probably still loud now. But at least you’ll get answers soon. Your breath seems to even out a little, and you find yourself laughing at yourself once again. What is it about this Yoongi that’s got you so hooked? You ponder that question as you pull on your sweatpants for bed. You think it over as you brush your teeth. You coin the possibilities as you get dressed the following day. The questions stays stuck in your head all week.

Then it’s suddenly Saturday night again, and you find yourself ordering a pizza at the same time as last week. You scoff at the thought that it could be because you’re hoping Yoongi will deliver it to you, and you’ll get the chance to talk to him. You know full well that it’s ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter does it? You’re wearing a totally non-offensive plain blue t-shirt this week, but you still find yourself nervous. Why won’t your hands stop shaking? Why is your breath uneven? You just like his face. It’s not like you share the same necklace or anything.

His motorcycle pulls up over the road again, and you wait as calmly as you can in your living room, sat on your hands as you wait for the door to knock. You smile when you hear that it’s the same as last week - two quick taps, a pause, then another. This time, you stand up slowly, smoothing your clothes down as you focus on making your way to the door calmly this time. Your hands are still shaking, but at least your breathing is mostly even. You open the door slowly, giving Yoongi your sweetest smile,

“I have your pizza,” He says, a little deeper and less nervous than last week. It’s kind of sweet, really. His cheeks aren’t as flushed, but he still looks slightly dishevelled and yet still as soft as he originally did when you saw him last week. You thank him graciously and take the pizza from his slightly shaking hands - probably numb from the cold - with ease. You’re more than pleased to see that yours aren’t shaking, so you can reach for your wallet without worrying about dropping the pizza,

“Look, I’m sorry about last week, Yoongi - it is Yoongi, right? Min Yoongi?” You ask, slightly panic stricken when Yoongi’s head snaps up, looking at you incredulously. For a moment, you think you could’ve got in wrong, but then he nods and your face melts into a smile again. You hardly even notice the way Yoongi leans forward a little, his pupils dilating slightly, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was a bit forward, and I didn’t mean to upset you. I was wondering if I could maybe take your number, and see if we could take things at a better pace?” You continue hopefully. But at the mention of his number, Yoongi leaps back like he was shocked,

“I’m not gay. Stop trying to get on me. I don’t even know you,” Yoongi tells you, slinging the bag for pizzas over his back as his cheeks burn red with embarrassment. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you, suddenly unable to fathom why you’d question the reason he was on your mind all week. It’s because he’s beautiful! But the words coming out of his mouth cause you to frown slightly, and you tilt your head as you probe his confession further,

“We went to college together. And I could swear you dated Marcu-” You start, but Yoongi’s face snaps into an awful expression of fiery defensiveness,

“You must have the wrong Min Yoongi. I don’t like guys. Now just give me the money for the pizza,” Yoongi rushes, and you find yourself reeling from the speed of his words. Shocked, you just go into your wallet and get out another £50 note, knowing he’ll probably appreciate the tip. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the shirt he had a problem with’ you think to yourself as he storms away. You sigh as you watch him tear away on his motorcycle, much faster than you believe is strictly necessary. He didn’t even strap his helmet back on properly.

The pizza tastes like cardboard in your mouth as you chew it, and you just don’t understand why you could possibly be so hung up on Yoongi. He can’t really be that special. You’re only on your third slice of pizza when your phone goes off, and you nearly choke on it in your haste. Despite your new resolution to not care about Yoongi, you’ve been anticipating Jamie’s call all week, and there’s no way in hell that you’re missing it - even if Yoongi truly is as rude as he seems,

“Hey! Hey, Jamie, you okay?” You stutter quickly. You’re worried that you’ll come across as too eager and Jamie will get the wrong idea, or think you want to actually talk to him. You shiver at the thought of politely sitting through a catch up with him. Especially if you’re sober. Maybe if you had several shots of vodka first, you’d manage it. But sober? Oh no, you barely even managed it in college when you genuinely wanted a social life. But not now. His voice is enough to make you regret even asking,

“Hey bro! Yeah, I’m just finishing my pre-game for a frat party, so I’m out of it. Just thought I should call before I forget! You good?” Jamie slurs into his end of the call, and you actually physically shiver at the sound of it. You’re in your twenties, and he’s still going to frat parties? You could swear people your age are meant to go clubbing, and not to frat houses. You’re sure there must be something horribly illegal in that confession. You swallow and close your eyes, trying to keep the growing irritation out of your voice,

“Yeah I’m okay, thanks. Just wondering about this whole thing with Marcus and Yoongi. He seems really weirded out about it,” You press, knowing the irritation would have been obvious to someone less drunk and more intelligent. Luckily, Jamie is absolutely pissed and as dense as a brick, so you’re fine. You never were great at hiding emotions, so you’re not sure why you thought this instance would be any different. But yes, luck seems to be on your side briefly, because Jamie definitely didn’t pick up on it,

“Marcus was weird about it too. He says they were together for a while, but then Yoongi got beaten up badly and stopped talking to him. Sounds harsh, doesn’t it? To just ghost your boyfriend,” Jamie voice sounds a little more sober, and you’re thankful. It meant you didn’t miss a word. You can practically feel the cogs whirring away in your head, so you know what you really need is some time alone to think it all over. You end the call as quickly as possible, wishing Jamie the best of times at his frat parties, and not waiting for his reply before turning your phone off. He probably won’t remember the conversation in the morning anyway.

You sit with your pizza as you think. Yoongi was beaten up badly and then just stopped talking to his boyfriend? It seems odd, but the two events are clearly linked, if one led to the other. At first, you assume that the beating led to the break up, but it doesn’t quite make sense. Why would getting hit lead to dumping your boyfriend? But then you think - what if the boyfriend lead to the beating, which led to the break up? That makes more sense. Yoongi got beaten up because he was with Marcus. You sit with that idea for a moment, and everything seems to make a bit more sense. Being gay got Yoongi hurt, so he has a problem with gay people now - or maybe just with his own desires? It seems entirely possible in your head that Yoongi is trying to act straight just because of that event.

Suddenly, you feel bad for hitting on him.

The following week, you find yourself sat in your basketball shorts and vest, wondering why you even bothered to order the pizza. You’ve made clear that you’re going to leave Yoongi alone. The pull you feel doesn’t really matter. You’ll get over it when you meet the person with your necklace, so it’s clear that it’s only temporary. However, your heart still jumps a little when the door knocks.

You know it’s definitely Yoongi, because you can feel that pull strengthening, and he really does seem to have a particular knock. Two quick taps, a pause, then another. You try to slow your footsteps as you approach the door, wanting to keep everything as calm and as innocent as possible. It’s not fair to push him when he’s probably suffering some pretty bad trauma from what happened back in college.

You resolve cracks a little when you see his pale skin, once again marred by a flustered blush. He really is stunning. You try not to smile in the way you had last week, but you still want to try and look friendly. You settle for a slight smile, that you’re sure he’ll be able to tell is forced. He seems like the intelligent type. If he does notice, though, he doesn’t say. He just hands you your pizza. You thank him with a nod of your head as you reach for your wallet, but stop short when you hear Yoongi splutter and cough,

“Are you okay?” You ask, before you can stop the words coming out of your mouth. You mentally scold yourself - you didn’t want to talk and have him get the wrong idea of why you’re asking. You meant for this to just be a normal pizza delivery, but he had to go and choke on air,

“Where did you get that?” Yoongi asks through the coughs, resting a hand on your doorframe to steady himself, and pointing the other at your necklace. You frown and look down at it, briefly examining the bronze plate, about 3cm in diameter, and the various colours set across it, like they’d been thrown from a paintbrush. You then look back up at Yoongi, who’s eyes bore into yours with an emotion that looks almost like rage swirling in it,

“It’s my necklace. You know, the Necklace everyone gets on their 15th birthday?” You stutter, feeling your calmness slowly seep out of your body at Yoongi’s expression. It only darkens further at your response, and you back up a little, slightly scared,

“Impossible,” He mutters, and you frown quickly, trying to decipher what he means. But your mind only runs in circles as you try to figure it out, trying to come up with anything appropriate to shoot back. You come up short in terms of anything even remotely intelligent or snarky, instead having to settle for a simple syllable,

“Why?” You ask. But, of course, ever the enigma, Yoongi doesn’t answer. He just turns around and sprints down to his motorcycle. You can’t do anything but stare at the open door, watching him fix his helmet on properly. It’s only then that you realise you didn’t pay him,

“Hey! Yoongi! You forgot the money!” You shout, stepping out of your house to wave your wallet at him, hoping he’ll pull over and at least let you pay for your pizza and maybe even talk to you. Then the sound of his motorcycle starts up, and your hand falls to your side as you sigh in exasperation. If he wouldn’t stop for money, nothing’ll do it. All you can do is watch as he tears off down the street at top speed, more than definitely outside of the speed limit.

You’re sure that’s it, and you’ll never see him again. You don’t bother to order pizza from that place again, knowing similar things will keep happening. You think that if you don’t put yourself in his path, he’ll vanish from your mind. But that is exactly where you’re wrong. It’s late on Friday night, four weeks after when your door knocks. Two quick taps. A pause. Then another.

Your head’s spinning as you stumble to the door, and you feel kinda fuzzy. Yeah, fuzzy is probably the best way to describe it. You know it’s not very eloquent but that’s the only word you have for the stuff going on inside of you right now. You fumble clumsily to unlock the door and wrench it open just a little too fast for it to be normal, and your breath catches in your throat at the very sight of the flustered blush dusted across the pale cheeks of one Min Yoongi.

The said man doesn’t give you a chance to speak before he’s shoving past you (with quite an intimidating aura for someone half your size) and into your home, not hearing you shout after him asking what the hell he’s doing. He can’t run away from you last month and now barge into your home! You don’t even know the guy,

“Where did you get that necklace?” Yoongi finally barks after a few moments of shocked silence pass when he flat-out ignores your demands to know why he’s here. The thing is that you probably would’ve let him in if he’d asked. Baffled by his tone, you stutter out a response,

“Like I told you last time, it’s the one I was given for my 15th birthday. Now could you please just tell me what-“ You start, hoping Yoongi will be more open to reasonable questioning now that he’s started talking in general. However, your hopes are squashed when Yoongi’s eyes snap up to yours, dark and dangerous as he strides towards you, height difference be damned, and stands just inches away from you, glaring unashamedly with murder in his eyes,

“Don’t bullshit me, that isn’t possible! Just tell me where you got the damn thing,” Yoongi growls, and you flinch back as you stare down at him incredulously,

“Look, you need to stop. I’m sorry that my answer upset you but seriously, I won’t have you force your way into my home and then start making demands,” You tell him firmly, trying to keep your voice calm. You didn’t even know you had this much patience in you, but you have enough to hold you still until Yoongi’s shoulders finally sag, and he looks around with a slightly lost expression on his face, like all the fight was drained out of him,

“I’m sorry it’s just.. I don’t know, there’s obviously no excuse for this but… fuck, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come, I’ll just go,” He amends, unable to meet your gaze as he heads for the door again, shaking his head at himself. You’re fine to watch him leave, absolutely speechless, but as if some reflex in your body is controlling your movements, you step in front of him. You had no more choice over it than you do jerking away from boiling water,

“Do you want to talk about it?” You blurt, not thinking it through at all. This could be a seriously bad idea and you know it, but for some reason you just don’t care. You could quite literally get killed since you don’t really know anything about Yoongi other than he’s clearly a very angry man who you used to go to college with. He might be a serial killer for all you know, but here you are offering to talk to him about issues that don’t even affect you!

But then you look at the hurt look in his eyes and the way his shoulders curl in slightly and realise that you could never turn this man away. For all the anger and spite buried in him that he just took out on you, he’s soft and small and obviously hurting. You remember when that was you. How could you turn a blind eye to it?

“No strings or catches, I swear. I’ll just put the kettle on and we can talk as two normal people about why one of them suddenly burst into the other one’s home and started shouting,” You say, some of your teasing personality leaking into your tone when you see Yoongi’s sheepish half-smile. You can tell that he’s embarrassed, and it tugs on your heartstrings a little. He nods without saying another word, not wanting his harsh voice to ruin the kindness you’re offering him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he takes it anyway. After a few seconds of standing with an awkward silence hanging around, you remember you offered to make a hot drink. You jump into action and lope into the kitchen, calling over your shoulder to ask Yoongi what his fix is,

“Do you have any coffee?” Yoongi asks, trying his best to keep his voice calm and as velvety as yours was. He’s not sure if it works or not, “I’m not much of a tea drinker,” He admits, and you smile knowingly to yourself at the dark circles under his eyes that provide evidence for his preference,

“I have some, but honestly I don’t drink it myself. It’s mainly for hosting purposes, really,” You joke, getting down the seldom-used instant coffee powder from the back of the cupboard and finding your hot chocolate mix too. Yoongi snorts at the sight of it when you set it down next to the kettle,

“How did I just know you’d be a hot chocolate kind of guy? I bet you have whipped cream, chocolate shavings and marshmallows too,” He jokes in an unusually casual tone for him, and you quickly shove the marshmallows back into the cupboard, hoping desperately that Yoongi didn’t see. He did, but just rolls his eyes in lieu of teasing you further. He leans back against the counter opposite from where you’re making the drinks, trying to act as if he doesn’t feel quite so out of place while you busy yourself, wondering what the hell you’re even doing at this point.

You hand Yoongi his coffee first, and he smiles at you in thanks. It’s not necessarily a kind or warm smile, but it’s got a tinge of appreciation in it and that’s more than he’s been able to give you before. He swallows hard when he sees that you’ve put some milk in it. Most people assume he likes it black, but he’s partial to a little milk. The thing is, Yoongi knows that is such a stupid thing to be happy about! He’s really getting just a bit excited that you can read his mind better than other people and that doesn’t even make sense. But to Yoongi, it means something. He just doesn’t know exactly what.

He takes a moment to survey you as he sips his too-hot drink, the heat burning his lips but he finds himself unable to care as he thinks things over. So, you have the same necklace. That much is clear since Yoongi would know that design anywhere. The only problem is that Yoongi had been hoping he’d find it attached to a pretty woman who he could get along with without these feelings that he’s disgusting, or wrong…

Yoongi shivers at the thought that this is the life he’s resigned to. The kind of life he can’t have, the kind of life that he doesn’t want. He can’t bear to think of his parents right now.

You turn around with you hands wrapped around your hot chocolate, and lean opposite Yoongi. You try not to internally coo over how small he looks, and the red flush on his face from the steamy drink he’s holding. You fail,

“So, first things first. Why are you here?” You ask gently as you would when around a baby deer that you’re afraid to scare off. Yoongi scowls at your words and you barely stifle a groan, wondering if you will ever get the answers you want. You distract yourself petulantly with your hot chocolate while Yoongi deliberates his answer. The confusion on his face makes you wonder for a second if he genuinely doesn’t know. He’s clearly acting irrationally and is in no way comfortable here. You have to acknowledge the possibility that Yoongi may have turned up solely on curiosity, anger, confusion or whatever cocktail of emotions that were governing him.

Eventually, he kind of just sighs and puts his coffee down beside him, and promises himself that he will kick your ass - size difference or not - if you try and make any kind of advance on him for this. You watch on in confusion as his pale hands disappear down the collar of his hoodie, finding the chain of the necklace and dragging the pendant up into view, eyes looking anywhere but yours as you zero in on it.

You choke on your drink and quickly whirl around to place your hands on the counter, trying to keep yourself standing. Your fingers fumble clumsily to place your mug down and you try in vain to stop yourself from coughing up a lung. Your mind clouds over, though, and you find yourself unable to focus on breathing properly when you know that Yoongi has your necklace on.

Yoongi sighs to himself and rests his head back on the cupboard, and he tries to figure out what kind of silver lining could be found in this kind of situation, realistically speaking. Of course, he comes up completely blank, which really sucks and makes everything just seem that much worse. Luckily, before Yoongi can think up too much existential dread, the sound of heavy breathing stops, and Yoongi forces himself to look at your back as you flex your shoulders carefully before turning around to meet his hardened eyes.

You can’t help but think that this whole situation is reminiscent of some bad movie, and you kind of hate it. But then again, this cute guy is in your kitchen, and whether or not he’s going to fall in love with you doesn’t even matter because either way you’re going to be okay with it. Some people have platonic soulmates, and maybe that’s all that this is meant to be. You think you’ll be okay with that as long as you’ll get to cuddle him every now and again, because he’s such a squishy boy and you can just tell he’s secretly the cuddliest person in the world. But obviously you’re not going to outright say that to him. Maybe with time you’ll get comfortable enough with each other to do that,

“So, we’re soulmates,” You say, not smirking or joking or trying to imply anything. You keep your tone as neutral as possible because Yoongi obviously has his issues with this (if his reactions are anything to go by) and you don’t want to make this any harder for him that it already is. In response to your calmness, Yoongi mirrors it. He nods robotically and reaches for his coffee again. It doesn’t burn his lips as he sips it this time,

“I guess so,” He sighs, “But don’t expect anything from me. I’m serious when I say that I’m not-“

“You’re not gay, I know,” You interrupt, eager to get your point across before Yoongi has too much of a chance to form any lasting judgments about your character, “It’s okay, I’m not going to make you suck my dick or anything,” You scoff, allowing some humour to creep into your tone. You smile just a little bit at the flush that makes it’s way onto Yoongi’s already-red cheeks,

“Yeah, thanks for that,” He replies drily, “At least you make a good cup of coffee. But yeah, I guess we should talk about this. You came onto me like a moth to a flame, so you clearly are gay. What do you want from me and this whole soulmate thing?” You can hear the caution in Yoongi’s tone. He’s talking so bluntly, like this is some business transaction. Maybe that’s his way of dealing with it, but it doesn’t sit right with you. There’s some deep emotional connection that’s supposed to bloom between the two of you and it seems that Yoongi isn’t quite playing ball yet,

“Well, I’m kind of bummed that I got all necklaced up with someone I can’t fall in love with, but it doesn’t matter all that much. I guess I was only built for the strictly platonic kind of love,” You admit with a shrug of your shoulders, trying not to show how badly this is actually hurting you. You can curl up and cry about that loss later, but for now your soulmate needs to believe that you’re already okay with it, not that you’ll grow to be. Yeah, you were really hoping for the twink version of Prince Charming to come along ready for you to whisk him away, but that’s just not in the cards for you. You’ll have to resign yourself to a life of one night stands and a painfully straight best friend,

“Platonic?” Yoongi repeats, a confused look slowly etching itself onto his face. He thought it would be much more difficult to sort this whole thing out than you just dismissing your past advances like that. Maybe being your ‘soulmate’ won’t be as difficult as Yoongi assumed it would be,

“I know I can’t make you be gay, Yoongi. That’s not how sexuality works. If you say that you’re not, then you’re not. Sure, my best friend is gonna be pissed that I’ll end up demoting him at some point, but he’ll get over it,” You elaborate, and that finally makes Yoongi crack a smile - a real one! It’s cute and gummy and it makes you sigh so hard internally that you realise you’ll be pining for life. Maybe it would be worth it to see that smile one more time, though,

“I though that would be a lot harder. I thought I was going to have to fight you off and just go without a soulmate for the rest of my life,” Yoongi admits, setting his now-empty mug down beside him. You snort unattractively and roll your eyes,

“Don’t think so little of me, Yoongi. I have been known to abide by the rules of consent form time to time,” You drawl sarcastically, and you fix Yoongi with a look that makes him smile yet again, setting those butterflies off again. You try your best to digest them and Yoongi looks at you for just a few moments too long. An awkward kind of silence is left between you as his mind wanders off and he realises that he won’t ever be paired up with a nice woman to start a family with - well, not a woman that could really make him happy, anyway. Not that anyone would pair up with him at all with these stupid necklaces. That hope is gone now,

“Okay, well,” Yoongi interrupts himself, promising silently to that side of him that he can start this existential crisis later on, “I need to go. Thanks for the coffee, it was good. I’ll leave you with my number so we can go out and get to know each other or whatever. Barging my way into your home won’t work every time,” He jokes slightly, but his tone is too matter-of-fact to achieve the effect he was going for. Yoongi’s too caught up in going through the motions to even notice, moving his mug to the sink and writing his number down on the notepad and pen your hands miraculously find as you watch him, absolutely bewildered.

Did he just switch off his emotions? You could have sworn that you saw something brewing behind the hard front he so stubbornly upholds, but then suddenly it was like a door was slammed shut and locked up whatever that was behind it. You barely keep your frown hidden as Yoongi says goodbye, not lingering at all as he leaves the paper on the side for you. It’s not until Yoongi has climbed onto his motorcycle and kicked it to life, his visor snapped down tight, that you allow the frown to finally settle on your face.

There is most definitely more to Min Yoongi than he’d like for anyone else to think.

A few days later, the two of you are meeting up for a coffee - yeah, it’s just so original, but you didn’t want Yoongi to get the wrong idea if you’d invited him to dinner or something more fun. You can’t go out and do things without risking it seeming like a date until you’ve grown a bit closer. But still. Coffee. That’s what came out of your mouth.

Regardless of the setting though, you’re quite excited to get to know Yoongi. Especially with that mystery he’s given you to think on when you saw him last. Although, if you’re being honest, you’re trying not to think of him at all. The more you try to understand Yoongi, the less you actually do. Then you start asking questions to yourself like ‘why was he so angry about the necklaces?’, ‘was Marcus just a college experiment?’ and (the worst of all) ‘how are you supposed to act like you’re happy with a platonic relationship when you’re already harbouring a massive crush on the guy?’,

“Hey, over here!” Yoongi calls just a little bit more enthusiastic than he meant to. You’d wandered into the coffee shop slowly - you’ve never been one for coffee shops, really, so it’s a little disorientating - and Yoongi had saved you the embarrassment of standing awkwardly in the way while trying to find him.

Not that you could have possibly missed him, you realise when your eyes settle on him. If his mint green hair didn’t give it away, then his clothes would,

“Yoongi, you know it’s below freezing outside, right?” You ask sceptically as you sit down in the chair across from him. You’re silently glad he picked a table in the middle of the floor rather than one of the snug booths around the corner. You never know what’s going to happen when it’s with Yoongi, or so you’ve come to accept,

“I have a jacket,” He replies coolly, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course Yoongi is the type of guy to do this! He’s wearing ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Yes, it does look good the way he’s tucked it in, but that’s not the point. He’ll freeze, and you know it. As if he doesn’t notice your internal turmoil at how good he looks when you’d promised to control and stifle all of your favourable thoughts for the man, he shoots you a half smile as he nudges your drink towards you, “I got you some hot chocolate. They didn’t have marshmallows but they did have whipped cream and chocolate shavings,” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye as you smile down at your favourite drink,

“We should get past this tsundere act, you know,” You tease lightly, “Or are you going to demand payment for your efforts?” You continue and Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you, and you think you might have heard him scoff that he should do under his breath. Either way, he smiles up at you afterwards - not that gummy smile he gave you last time, but this one is good, too. It’s genuine, and that’s what matters,

“So… this actually isn’t the most awkward moment of my life, I have to admit,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly after a few moments pass of the two of you just glancing around, trying to think of something to say and yet coming up blank. You latch onto the morsel of conversation that Yoongi’s thrown at you with excitement,

“Well, now you’ve mentioned it, you have to tell me. What’s the most awkward moment of your life so far?” You probe and Yoongi gives you a look of complete horror at the prospect of having to relive it, and you can’t help the deep laugh that forces it’s way up and out of your chest. You haven’t seen his face so expressive before, and it’s adorably comical, to say the least!

“I have this older brother… before we both moved out we used to share a room. Now, there’s 7 years between us, okay? We weren’t that close, but because of the whole sharing a room thing we had to get along,” Yoongi starts, and you lean forward in interest, taking a sip of your hot chocolate as you go, “The age difference was a bit difficult though. He was still in school at 19 because he got held back a year, and obviously couldn’t move out when he was still a student. Basically he used to bring dates back to the house… yeah, exactly!” Yoongi shouts, gesturing to the shocked look on your face before he continues, “One night, I went to bed early because obviously school was too much stress for little 12 year old me. But then, I wake up at gone midnight and I hear some noise downstairs. Sometimes my brother came in drunk and messed around downstairs but…” Yoongi trails off, already holding back laughter, “Right, I’ll cut to the chase. He sent his girl upstairs to bed, while he tried to find his keys, but they were both so drunk that his girl ended up thinking I was him and trying to get into bed with me,” You splutter in shock but Yoongi keeps going, “And she’s laying there next to me saying how much she loves him, trying to kiss me, thinking that I am him! Now don’t tell me that’s not awkward, especially when your brother walks in and sees it!” He complains, and you shake your head in disapproval,

“Min Yoongi, I’ll admit that’s quite bad. However, I would argue that’s more traumatising than awkward. Buckle up while I tell you the most awkward story in the world - my life,” You explain dramatically, Yoongi over-acting that he’s hanging onto your every word as you launch into the top 3 worst things that have ever happened to you.

You pass at least a few hours just like that, just talking about your best and worst memories and laughing and trying to one-up each other. It’s easier to talk to Yoongi than you would’ve thought, and you find yourself opening up about what your dream job was, and how you’re not really happy about where you are in the world right now,

“Me neither, to be honest. I don’t want to be delivering pizza all of my life. It was only supposed to be a job to make ends meet while I pursued my passions, but here I am three years later doing the same thing,” Yoongi tells you, and you think you see just a spark of vulnerability in his eyes. You probe gently at the passions he mentioned, and Yoongi seems happy to talk about them. It strikes your heart with a pang that it’s probably been a while since anyone’s let him talk about them so freely, “I love music. I have some tracks of my own but it never really took off as a career. I have a Soundcloud following and that, but nothing ever really came of it. That and basketball. I nearly won a scholarship to some sports university, and if I’d taken it I’d be the Asian Michael Jordan,” Yoongi jokes ironically, and you smile sadly at that,

“Why didn’t you take it?” You ask, deciding not to make the comment about Yoongi not looking much like a basketball player, and surprisingly Yoongi doesn’t dodge this question either. He just shakes his head and takes a moment to have a sip of his third coffee of the day,

“My parents. They never really supported any of that. They turned it down for me and got me enrolled in what they called a ‘practical degree’. Engineering! I have a fucking Engineering degree and I hate it. The dumb thing is, I tried to find a job in that field and just make the most of it, but they weren’t hiring. How ridiculous is that? I should’ve done Media and pursued music more seriously, or taken that sports scholarship,” He sighs, and you can visibly witness his mood drop this time,

“Is it too late to change it now? I know you can’t go back in time and take your sports scholarship or study for a Media degree, but you’re not stuck being a pizza delivery man. If you wanted, you could quit your job tomorrow and start working your way up to what you want to do. You could start your own music label if you really wanted! But you’re not stuck. People like you don’t get stuck,” You tell him, the inspirational words flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop it. Silence descends between the two of you, and over the whole coffee shop since it’s getting late now and most people are going home. You think you’d overstepped the mark for a second before Yoongi finally replies,

“I’m not one for getting motivated, but you had me there. I’m not going to quit my job tomorrow, because I quite like being able to pay my rent, but doing something about my passions sounds like a good thing. Maybe… never mind,” Yoongi starts, but cuts himself off before he gets too far. You nearly whine in protest, knowing that if you let Yoongi start shutting out some things he’ll probably shut everything down. You push him to tell you, and with a sheepish smile he eventually does, “We should go to a basketball game. I haven’t gone to one in ages and if we’re going to be friends then you need to know some things about the best sport in the world,” Yoongi tells you, and you brighten up at the prospect of Yoongi suggesting something to do together,

“That sounds like a great idea! I’ll search it up when I get home, and see if any of the big games are happening near by,” You suggest, and Yoongi nearly glows as he smile, nodding and agreeing that it’s a great idea. Even if no big teams are playing, Yoongi mentions to you that even college games are pretty fast-paced, and could be worth a watch. You quietly wonder if you’ll maybe get him to go to a game at the college you used to go to, but you don’t say it out loud. Given what you learned all those weeks ago (no matter how hard you try not to think about it) you get the feeling that maybe college wasn’t the best time in Yoongi’s life,

“Hey, uh… you guys kinda need to leave. We’re closing soon and we need to wipe down your table,” A spotty-faced teenage boy tells you nervously, and you nod quickly. You know what some customers can be like, flying off the handle for nothing, so you know the last thing he needs is the last two customers giving him any shit. You smile encouragingly and apologise, downing the last of your drink as Yoongi does the same. You pretend not to notice the small tip Yoongi hands him for being so patient. Damn tsundere, he’d probably deny it and get mad at you for bringing it up.

Neither of you linger as you part ways, waving goodbye in a perfectly acceptable way as Yoongi mounts his motorcycle and you head off in your own direction. It’s not far, and you don’t really want to get on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle, anyway. You still have that fluttery crush feeling, but it’s okay. This friendship is okay. It’s enough.

It occurs to you as you lock your front door behind you that if either you or Yoongi had ever pursued your dreams the way you wanted to, you may never have met. It’s funny how life works.

You do end up going to that basketball game. It’s been about 3 weeks since Yoongi brought it up, but you’re still just as excited as that moment. Yoongi seems hyped for it too - in his own way, of course - and you can’t stop talking as you get onto the train, trying to get all of the rules down before you get there. You were always more of a football kind of guy - well, you watch the World Cup when it’s on, if that counts.

It’s not too far to get there, but far enough that you can’t get a taxi and since you’ll probably drink a bit when you’re there, you can’t go on Yoongi’s motorcycle. Luckily enough, it doesn’t take long and then the college stadium is basically on top of the train station.

At periods throughout the game you wonder if you’re annoying Yoongi a bit, because you do have to ask for clarification every now and again. He hadn’t exaggerated when he said it was a fast game! But then you go to grab the both of you another drink and the happy look on Yoongi’s face as his eyes wander over the court astounds you. He looks so peaceful you almost feel bad for interrupting him to hand him the drink.

You also try to ignore how date-like it feels. This wouldn’t be the case if it was a group of you, but since Yoongi hasn’t mentioned any friends and none of yours would be interested in basketball (or able to keep their hands off Yoongi in the way that you’ve learned to) it’s a private kind of night. Well, not private. There’s a huge crowd and two teams of very tall men running around, but it just feels a little intimate. But you push the thought to the back of your mind with the help of more alcohol, and soon you don’t even care. This is your night with your soulmate, platonic or not.

It’s a fun night until you get on the train back home.

There’s barely any seats left when you and Yoongi jump on, laughing loudly and obnoxiously since you’ve only barely caught it, and then you have to trawl through the carriages. To try and find somewhere for the both of you to sit. Sometimes you forget how intimidating you might look, but the horrified looks of older women and younger teenagers reminds you to quiet down a bit. You smile apologetically and hurry to find somewhere before the train departs. You’re not drunk, but you’ve had enough to drink that your balance is ever so slightly off,

“Hey! I’ve got some seats here,” Yoongi suddenly says, pointing at a section of four seats that are all turned towards a table between them. You smile happily and collapse down next to the window before Yoongi gets the chance to, “You’re such a child, you know,” He scolds half-heartedly as he takes the seat closer to the aisle. The two of you buy a bottle of water each from the person with the snack trolley as she wanders down, knowing you should try and lessen any effects of the alcohol if you can.

Everything is still fine until a man sits himself down opposite you on the table, apologising since it’s literally the only seat left on the train. You and Yoongi wave it off good-naturedly and go back to your conversation about the game, happy to pass the time like that until you ruin everything with your loud mouth,

“I could swear I know you!” You blurt at the man who’d sat down opposite you, and narrow your eyes to examine him closer, “Have we met before?” You ask, and he finally looks up, realising you must mean him. The smile he gives you is slightly embarrassed, but still cute. You wonder to yourself if he’d take your number, or if he’s one of those traditionalists who won’t take anyone’s number unless it’s his soulmate,

“You know, you look kind of familiar, I won’t lie. Did we go to school together, maybe?” The man offers, and it’s not until you realise who you’re talking to that you feel that Yoongi’s tensed up beside you, not moving or talking. You’re not even sure if he’s breathing,

“You’re Marcus,” You breathe, involuntarily throwing Yoongi a side-ways glance. As your eyes move, Marcus’ do as well, and it’s as if the whole train carriage falls silent. All you can hear is your own heartbeat, and you can’t bring yourself to say anything else. Marcus doesn’t either, and Yoongi certainly doesn’t. The train ride stays deathly silent up until you pull into the station, forcing you to dwell on the situation.

This is Yoongi’s ex-boyfriend Marcus. The Marcus who he got beaten up for being with. The Marcus that must be part of the reason why Yoongi ‘isn’t gay anymore’.

Yoongi is up before the train stops, and hitting the ‘open doors’ button repeatedly until it lets him off. You hurry to catch up, hoping that Yoongi will let himself talk to you about it. You’re not that close yet, but you’re a little hopeful that this will be the prompt Yoongi needs to open up to you. You’re not supposed to hide your feelings from your soulmate, because they’ll always understand. It’s part of the reason that you get paired up.

You’re surprised to find that Yoongi heads back to yours, but then again you’re not. Yoongi is full of surprised, and also he left his motorcycle parked outside your house, so he needs to get it before he can get home. When you finally build up enough speed to walk next to Yoongi, you nervously glance at his face to try and work out what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t look angry. He looks shocked, sure, but not angry, and that’s a relief. He waists for you to unlock the door patiently, and smiles at you gratefully as you let him in. The train ride has clearly sobered the both of you up for now, and everything is quiet,

“You’re welcome to stay here tonight. I know you’ve had something to drink so I can’t let you ride home. My couch is quite comfortable. You can use the spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet and I’ll grab you some blankets and stuff,” You tell him as you shut the door and kick off your shoes. Yoongi throws a thanks over his shoulder as he heads to your bathroom, leaving you to try and compose yourself as you track down your less crappy blankets to lay out for Yoongi.

While said man takes his sweet time getting ready to sleep, you find yourself cracking open a beer and downing it before Yoongi is padding back into the living room, hair damp from the shower he clearly took. You smile at the darker colour the water’s made his hair and gesture vaguely at the set up of the couch you’d arranged. Yoongi smiles back at you as he leans back into the make-shift bed with a groan, and suddenly you’re talking,

“What happened between you and Marcus?” You say, not able to see what way this is going through the haze in your mind. Yoongi sighs as he rests his forearms over his face, not looking at anything as he tells you that it was just a stupid teenage experiment, like ticking all the boxes just to be sure he was definitely straight, and he broke it off when he realised he was, “That’s a lie. I know you were beaten up for being gay,” You tell him nonchalantly, spurred on by the warmth of alcohol in your veins. You always were a bit of a lightweight, “Is that why you won’t let yourself fall in love with me? Is it because- is it because being beaten up made you internalise their homophobia? Do you hate yourself for liking men?”

You’re too busy with your own muddled thoughts to remember that this was the subject you’d always promised yourself you wouldn’t breach. It’s Yoongi’s own business and his own trauma that he was welcome to share with you over time, but not something you would ever have the right to ask him about, let alone so bluntly.

The house is quiet before Yoongi snaps, eyes hard and burning with anger as he pulls his jacket on and finally snaps,

“You have no right to talk about that you pathetic fuck!” He yells at you, voice already sounding rough from use. You flinch back in fright, but Yoongi doesn’t stop. He doesn’t step towards you, but he maintains eye contact terrifying enough that you know he’s beyond angry, “If you think for one second that we are close enough, or ever will be close enough for that then you’re as stupid as you look! I fucking knew you were pining for me, and this just shows it! You’re a manipulative little prick, trying to twist my emotions and fuck with my head so I’ll go gay but you’re wrong! You can fuck yourself and live without any fucking soulmate. Fuck you,” He finishes, and your ears ring with his words as he grabs his helmet and storms out. Whether or not he had a few drinks tonight, he can’t stand another moment in your house.

The silence he leaves is worse now he’d just been filling it so brutally, and that pulling you felt in your chest when you were around him feels like it’s just snapped. If it’s the red strings of fate, then yours was just cut off by Yoongi himself.

You try to tell yourself that you’re not someone who lets people get to you so easily, because you’re really not. You’ve always been thick-skinned, and you don’t cave in and give up so easily, but this is just so different. It’s not melodramatic to be upset when your soulmate leaves you. Not that you were even together, but you were happy with the friendship that was blooming. For about 3 weeks there, your life was good. Yoongi made you smile and with some more time you know you’d be a better person since meeting him. You have a feeling that you were having the same effect on him, but that’s gone now. You went somewhere that you never should have gone, and you’re now suffering the consequences.

Part of you wants to think about how Yoongi is, and wonder if he’s feeling the same pain that you do every time your eye sees the mint green colour that reminds you of him, or the sound of motorcycle that isn’t his speeding past, or hear about a new basketball game. Even music is different now, knowing how deep his passion for it ran. But that part of you needs to stay silent. You don’t want to think that Yoongi is probably fine. He was never as gone for you as you were for him. Still are, really. Even now you want to see him again, even just as friends, to ask him about his day and listen to him vent about how much he hates his job and how badly it sucks. You know you shouldn’t still be wanting that, but you can’t help it. Maybe you are as pathetic as Yoongi said.

Your mental health spirals over the next few days, and you struggle to get out of your bed for your job. The looming threat of being evicted if you don’t make rent is just enough for now, but the longer you go knowing you’ll have to live without a soulmate, the harder it gets. You read stories about people who’s soulmates die before their time, or who leave them because of their history, but you never imagined it would hurt this bad. You go through your day like a zombie, only doing what you have to and nothing more.

Tears are already swimming in your eyes when you open your front door that night. It was another tough day. Your boss shouted at you for not having your ‘customer face’ on when dealing with people. You’d not been able to do anything but take it. He wasn’t wrong. You can’t manage anything but a monotone voice and a smile is beyond you. You hadn’t even been able to explain that your soulmate had cut ties with you, and that’s why you’re finding it so difficult at the moment.

You were so caught up in your own emotions that you didn’t notice the motorcycle parked outside, the fact that your door was unlocked, the living room light was on and there’s a man sat on your couch, looking at you with worried eyes. You don’t realise it until he calls out your name.

If you could control your reaction, you might not shout so loudly, but for the first time since Yoongi slammed your door behind him, you feel something other than numbness and pain. Anger. The red-hot blazes of anger burn your veins as you stare at him, and you start letting it out,

“Get out! Get the fuck out of my house, you heartless prick! You think you can lose your temper with me and call me all those names and then just waltz in here like I owe you something? No! How did you even get in here? You’re a fucking serial killer, I knew it! You need to leave right now or I swear to fuck I will call the police and have them arrest your dumb ass for breaking and entering! Who do you even think you are? You can’t just- you can’t just-“ You choke on your words as you continue, and you have to collapse down onto the chair opposite, panting and trying to catch your breath. You refuse to let yourself cry in front of Yoongi, and that resolve makes breathing just that much more difficult.

It’s not until you regain a hold on your temper that you realise Yoongi hasn’t moved. He’s sat on your couch, curled in on himself a little because you’re quite scary when you’re angry, but otherwise unmoved. You notice as you examine his face that he doesn’t look much better off than you. His eyes are rimmed with red, they look hollow and he’s shaking, too. Part of you purrs at the though that he was hurting too, but the other part of you is appalled that this whole soulmate set-up became so messy. The whole point of necklaces is to avoid all of this heartbreak,

“You leave your key under the doormat. You must think you’re so slick and sneaky with that, but you’re not. It was the first place I checked,” Yoongi says, obviously trying to joke with you but his tone ruins it. He sounds as empty as you feel, “I knew you wouldn’t let me in, and even though I understand why, I couldn’t take the chance. We need to talk,” Yoongi continues, giving up on joking in favour of just telling you how it is. An awkward silence hangs in the air for a few moments before Yoongi is talking again, “Look, I’m an idiot. I said some awful things to you and I just hate myself for it. Not that you didn’t already know that,” The sigh he lets out sounds pained, and you find yourself shaking your head,

“Yeah, you’re a dick for saying that to me, but I crossed the line as well. When I first saw you I thought I recognised you, so I talked to some old college friends,” You use the term loosely, “They told me what happened, but I wasn’t going to mention it to you. It can’t have been…” You pause to try and rephrase, not wanting to make this situation any worse, “It wasn’t any of my business. I’d had a few drinks, I don’t even know what I was thinking,” Your voice trails off quietly, and you’re unsure if Yoongi even heard.

It’s a little unsettling how weird this feels. The time you’d spent with Yoongi as of late has felt so natural, but this feels forced and empty. If you had a heart left to break any further, this would certainly do the trick. The only sounds in the room is you shifting into the chair further, and the shallow sound of Yoongi’s breath.

He gathers his thoughts as best he can, hoping you’ll know not to interrupt him when he starts talking. If he stops, he’s not sure he’ll be able to continue.

He hasn’t moved much the last few days, and his job has been angrily blowing up his phone the whole time. If he doesn’t go back tomorrow then he won’t have a job to go back to at all. The time Yoongi’s had has been full of thoughts and feelings and honestly it was quite scary. He’d forbidden himself to ever touch those feelings again, and he still hasn’t in any depth, but he’s getting the urge to try and explain them. That’s part of the reason that he’s here. Other than the fact that he’s been in pain being so separate from his soulmate, he wants to talk about it. He wants to tell you what happened,

“It wasn’t… just an experiment. Me and Marcus,” Yoongi says as firmly as he can. You jolt a little and look up at him in shock. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting Yoongi to say but it definitely wasn’t that, “I liked him, and he liked me. We knew we’d break up at some point because our necklaces were different, but it just felt right at the time. It was just a bit of fun, so neither one of us were expecting it to last long,” You don’t say anything or move in fear of interrupting Yoongi, “I was on my back from his house one night, and I saw some of his friends waiting outside. I nodded at them but didn’t stop to talk. We weren’t that close. It wasn’t even that far between Marcus’ dorm and mine, so I’d told him to stay there, that I could walk myself home. So yeah, I was on my own. There was a shortcut that cut the walk in half, but it was a dark alley. Narrow. It wasn’t until I got too far in to turn around that I realised his friends were following me,” Yoongi breaks off with a deep breath, running. Shaking hand through his hair. The colour is starting to fade now, “You know what happened next. They beat the shit out of me. I hadn’t been playing basketball for a while so I wasn’t that strong, and there were too many of them, anyway. I just had to take it, while they were shouting all these slurs at me, telling me to leave Marcus alone… they made it clear they didn’t want their friend around a fag like me, as they put it,” His shoulders sag as he falls silent, and you know that his story’s over.

His words hang in the air and all you can do is sit three, tucking your knees into your body as you wonder how fucked up those guys had to be. Then you wonder how badly it fucked Yoongi up. Clearly this is the reason why he refuses to be more than friends with you, but you can’t even fathom it. Sure, you’ve had more than your fair share of homophobia directed at you, but this is too much,

“When I think about being in love,” Yoongi presses on, and you feel the urge to tell him to stop if it’s going to put too much strain on him, but you can see that he needs to explain this to someone, “When I think about being in love like that, it messes with my head. I feel like I’m back there… I just don’t know if I can do it. Seeing you be so openly gay fucks with my head too. Part of me wishes I could do that and be that, but at the same time I’d hate it. I know it’s confusing, but this is what it’s like in my head. It’s sick,” He mutters bitterly, and you silently agree. It is sick. It’s sick that Yoongi should feel physically sick for something completely normal to him!

Part of you desperately wants to hold him close to you and run your fingers through his hair as if you can comb out all of his problems, but you know full well that you probably couldn’t do anything worse in this situation. He really has internalised those people’s homophobia and directed it at himself with such force that he can’t even enjoy his soulmate. He can’t enjoy the love written out for him because someone decided it wasn’t right.

There’s nothing to say, you realise, when you finally come out of your own head. No comforting words are going to soothe Yoongi, and all they’re likely to do is make him feel patronised or pitied. You know he doesn’t want your pity. So all you can do is sit there, not touching or speaking or moving, but just being in each other’s presence and hoping it will do something to fix the mess that this has become.

Eventually, you both fall asleep where you’re sat, and sleep dreamlessly for the first time since that basketball game.

You wake up the next morning to Yoongi sniffling in the kitchen behind you and the sound of the kettle boiling. He was trying to do it quietly so you would wake up with you favourite drink in front of you as a peace offering. He’s still not totally sure if you’ll forgive him for flying off the handle, yet. There wasn’t a conversation last night, just Yoongi doing a lot of talking and you doing a lot of listening.

There’s a funny sore spot on your neck from how you slept, and you’re still a little out of it. For a moment, you don’t really remember what happened, and the scenario just seems really domestic and happy. You stretch out with a smile on your face, until the memories trickle back into your head slowly. That’s when you taste the awkward atmosphere, and remember that this is most definitely neither domestic nor happy. After that realisation hits you, you feel Yoongi’s eyes graze over your back, seeing that you’re awake,

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. I… I made you some hot chocolate and I found the marshmallows… I feel really bad for the last few days and, I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping that we could talk even though I’d understand if you asked me to leave,” Yoongi says as he sets your drink down in front of you, cradling his own coffee between his hands, “First I shout at you and then I break into your house. I’m not much of a soulmate for you,” He says ironically, and you smile slightly when you realise that’s the first time Yoongi has referred to himself directly as your soulmate.

Yoongi doesn’t meet your eye as he talks, and you pick up the steaming drink to sip from it gently trying not to burn yourself but needing the warmth. This is so difficult. So much has happened, but Yoongi really did hurt you when he exploded like that. You don’t want to forgive him so easily, but he opened up about a huge point in his life and his deepest feelings. You don’t know what to do in the slightest, and eventually Yoongi lowers himself onto the couch awkwardly, hoping that you won’t be kicking him out just yet. If the last few days have taught him anything, it’s that if you don’t talk about this then you’ll lose each other. Yoongi tries not to dwell on the obviously romantic connotations of that ultimatum.

He struggles to find things to look at other than you, but manages to do it for a few minutes until you lean forward and set your hot chocolate down, thinking your thoughts might be nearly coherent enough to explain. You’ll try and satisfy both parts of your dilemma,

“Okay, you were an asshole the last time you were here. You know that, and you know me. If you think I’m letting you off the hook this easily then you’re having a laugh,” You say firmly, and Yoongi ducks his head a little, still unable to meet your eye, “But I also understand why you did it,” You continue softly, and Yoongi is shocked into looking up at you, “You have issues, Yoongi. I’d feel bad just kicking you out without a second thought in light of that. Can you understand my dilemma?” You ask, and Yoongi sighs to himself, rubbing his forehead as if trying to cure a headache,

“Yeah. I mean, this was always going to hurt, given my situation and your… being a guy. We wanted different things from this whole necklace shit but I don’t know if I can give you what you’re looking for,” He explains, and you weakly ask him what he wanted from it. Your voice sounds so much thinner than it normally does, but you can feel this like a punch in the gut. Yoongi doesn’t want you, not in the way you want him. You always knew that, but hearing it for certain just aches, “I wanted a nice woman to come and be matched up with me. I wanted to be able to forget what happened in college forever. I wanted to believe my lie - that it was just an experiment. I wanted to get married and have a family without the drama, and even if it wasn’t quite what I wanted deep down, it would be enough. Enough to… I don’t know, pretend that the part of me that wants something else is just a bad dream,” Yoongi explains and you cast your eyes downwards. His are filling with tears and you want him to have some privacy from your scrutiny, “I guess I’m not exactly what you wanted, either,” He spits bitterly, trying to laugh it off but failing,

“You kinda look like it, I’ll give you that,” You half-joke, not wanting Yoongi to know how transparent his act is, “I know you don’t want me to go into it, so we can just skip over this whole bit and be platon-“

“Tell me,” Yoongi interrupts, and you’re taken aback by that for a few seconds. You have to steady your heartbeat, but you oblige regardlessly,

“You’re cute,” You say, barely above a whisper, wanting Yoongi to be able to pretend he hadn’t heard you if he’s already changed his mind. But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, so you continue with caution, “You’ve got a sweet smile, and these kind eyes that you try to hide behind a frown. You act tough but you’re deeper than that and I’ve seen it. You always pack an extra water bottle when we go out and if you have any change on you then you always give it to the homeless. I always imagined that I’d be the Prince Charming for a sweet man like you. I always wanted to be stronger and taller and all of that shallow stuff, and when I look at you I can see that side of me clearer than ever. I want-“ You pause, cutting yourself off, “I’m not sure you want to hear this. I don’t think I can say it knowing it could hurt you,”

“Please, tell me,” He murmurs, eyes meeting yours with a new, indescribable kind of emotion in them, “I need to hear this. Regardless of how this affects me, we need to know about what the other wants,” You nod wordlessly and push on as if you hadn’t stopped,

“I want to protect you. I want to hold you close and tuck you under my chin when it’s cold. I want you to sleep on my chest and I want to shower you with the affections that you deserve but because I know you can’t give me that, I don’t expect it. I want to be crystal clear about that,” Your voice fills with conviction as you move to sit on the coffee table in front of Yoongi so that he has no choice but to look at you, “You don’t ever have to give me anything. I’ll never even ask for it. If you want a wingman, I’ll be the best wingman you could ever ask for. This necklace doesn’t mean shit and I swear to you that all it means to me is that I needs to make you happy. Even though that’s not with me, I’ll still do my best to give you what you do want and what you do need,” Fire burns in your eyes, and anything Yoongi was going to say fizzles out in his brain. His eyes widen solemnly and he nods dumbly, only able to get out one single word,

“Okay,”

It’s been several months since you and Yoongi had that huge… fight? You use that term very loosely, because it wasn’t so much a fight as a huge eruption and misunderstanding of emotion. Regardless of what word you use to describe it with, it’s over now and it has been for a long time. You’ve grown so much closer in the time since then and it’s genuinely so amazing. You’re no closer than best friends are - you meet at least twice a week, sometimes watching some films, and sometimes going out to do things. Yoongi was anxious about joining the local basketball team on his own as a hobby, so you’d gone with him the first time just to help him out. A few months down the line, and you’re their second best player! Yoongi, of course, takes the top spot. It’s ridiculous since you’re so much taller than him, but whatever! You have to remind yourself constantly that he’s good enough to have gotten offered a full scholarship, and you’ve been playing for a few months, but it doesn’t stop you getting frustrated when you play against him in small games and warm ups.

You’re the notorious pair, so competitive on the court and yet so close off the court.

Yoongi didn’t have many friends when you met him, but you had a small group who were happy to welcome him in. One remembered him from college, but everyone else accepted without question that you’ve found your platonic soulmate in Yoongi.

You’re both part of each other’s family, now. His parents didn’t have a problem with you after they got over the fact that their Yoongi wouldn’t give them any grandchildren, and your parents adore him. Of course, you made to clear up that Yoongi was most definitely not any kind of love interest for you, while tactfully avoiding why you wouldn’t even try. What happened to Yoongi remains privately between you, him and the therapist he’s been seeing.

He visits them once a week to try and get over his internalised homophobia and make him a more healthy person. You’d mentioned it to him in passing one night when you’d been having one of your deep chats. It happens every now and again, usually after one of you has had a bad day or if Yoongi feels particularly uncomfortable with himself. You’d figured he’d brush the idea off, but within a few weeks he’d found somewhere that said they could try and help him to start to deal with it. He hasn’t looked back since.

Yoongi is most definitely getting better. Anyone could see that! He’s happier, less anxious and is more positive in general. He still won’t tell you when a guy catches his eye, but you’ve seen his eyes wander a few times. Even though he snaps out of it quickly, it’s progress and that’s the important things. You wouldn’t care if Yoongi never told you when he finds someone attractive, if you’re totally honest. It’s about him being happy with every single part of himself. That’s what’s important here,

“If I ever get over this… you know what I mean… completely, will you want us to be together?” Yoongi asks you out of the blue one night. You’d met him from his therapy session to grab some dinner and catch up, and he’d been a little more thoughtful than is normal for him. He’s always a little drained after his sessions, but he has a little crease in his forehead where h’s been frowning, and that’s never happened before. This must be why,

“Yoongi, I don’t expect anything from you. Not one little thing. You don’t owe me anything,” You say, horrified that he thinks that’s what you want, “If you ever feel comfortable enough to want a guy , I won’t force myself onto you. I promise that I’m more than happy with you as we are right now. You’re my closest friend. I’m not just hanging around for you to put out,” You explain, looking away only to order from the counter. It gives Yoongi time to think that over, and when you turn back he’s got a gummy smile on his face,

“Sorry, I just worry sometimes,” He admits sheepishly, and you snort with stifled laughter. You slap the back of his head playfully and remind him that he shouldn’t apologise for worrying.

But that thought still sits in the back of Yoongi’s mind, whispering to him. He wonders if you’d want that kind of relationship if he ever gets better, and he wonders if maybe he’d want it to. He slots the idea away in his head to talk over with his therapist next week. She’ll be happy to know that Yoongi’s able to think about it at all, since it’s a huge step forward from where he started. Obviously it’s going to take more than half a year of therapy to fix years of suppression and damage, but he can already feel a change in him. He watches you laugh and flirt with the guy making your food, and Yoongi knows it’s a change for the better.

It’s been three years since Yoongi delivered your pizza to you, but neither of you noticed the ‘anniversary’ of sorts pass by. There are more important things going on in your lives than insignificant details like that.

Yoongi’s mental health is at it’s most secure that it’s been since you met, and he even admits when he sees a guy he likes the look of with minimal probing! Even though he won’t let you be his wingman just yet, you’re so excited for how well he’s doing. He’s satisfied as well, and he’s has explained that it feels like a weight is slowly being lifted from his shoulders.

He knows he still has a long way to go now, but he’s motivated. He wants to do it.

Yoongi’s on his way to yours straight from his appointment at the hairdressers, so he can take you to basketball practice. He’d gotten rid of the mint green look just before quitting his job at the pizza place, because he didn’t want his chances at a new job to be ruined by a ‘punk look’ as he put it (even though you’ve told him countless times that a squishy boy like him couldn’t look punk if he tried). He’s a music producer now! He’s not famous or anything, but he has him name on some big tracks, and his income is quite good. Far better than the pizza delivery job, and he’s happy doing it. He genuinely loves what he’s doing. It’s not just Yoongi who’s gotten better over the last few years. You’ve found a new passion in basketball, and you started taking night classes to qualify yourself for a better job. You flew through them and took the exams early, and quit your crappy dead-end job just last week. You start your dream job on Monday!

Yoongi knocks on your door is his cutely unique way - two quick knocks, a pause, and then another. You’re way too excited to see what new colour he’s gone with. He’s tried a whole rainbow - pink, red, orange, silver, blue, purple and probably a few you’ve forgotten. You’re surprised he still has a full head of hair. After he’d settled in at the music studio, he realised how much they didn’t care about appearance. He was the only one with a natural hair colour! They’d told him he didn’t have to stick with black if he didn’t want to, and he hasn’t looked back since,

”Hmm, blonde. An expected move, but okay. It suits you,” You admit as you grab your gym bag from the hooks by your door and sling it over one shoulder, “We good to go?” You prompt when Yoongi makes no move to step out of your doorway to let you out. If you knew the reason, you wouldn’t be so quick to speak up. There’s this feeling in Yoongi’s chest and it’s throwing him off. Something scary. Something meaningful. Something… fluttery. He rolls his eyes as he steps out of your way, muttering two words that you won’t think are of any importance for a few months yet, at the very least,

“Fucking butterflies.”

#bts #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts fluff #bts angst #the necklace #confused

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