Thread by @kumatokkii

https://twitter.com/kumatokkii/status/1260694083225505792

It took a little while for Namjoon to calm down enough to get his words out, to apologise to Eunha for crying out of the blue like that, all while he stroked at Biscuit's fur, the small white cat curling into his lap, the purring never ending.

"You're not allowed to say sorry for crying," Eunha smiled, taking a seat at her desk, spinning in her chair to face Namjoon, tea mug in hand. "In fact, I encourage it here, if that's what you need. Namjoon, this is a safe space, to vent however you need."

"But we haven't even started yet," Namjoon was still sniffly, staring down at Biscuit, studying the way whiskers twitched and ears wiggled. "I wanted to remain composed at least a little longer than that--"

"Don't think about your feelings in terms like that," Eunha's voice was so gentle, so compassionate, full of so much understanding that Namjoon wondered if he was going to cry again.

"This isn't about holding onto them until you burst-- this is about controlling and understanding how they flow through you, how they affect you, and how you can give your emotions the respect they need, in order for them not to hurt you."

Whatever Namjoon expected from coming here, his time with Eunha and Biscuit in the first session of therapy didn't even come close to what his mind had conjured beforehand.

Where he pictured sterile whites and cold, harsh words, he was met with a sense of home and understanding, a person who didn't know him at all, but gave his thoughts and feelings validation, even if those feelings felt so insignificant that they didn't seem to matter at first.

"Everything you feel matters," Eunha had said, when Namjoon had expressed that concern.

"Every tiny emotion, every big one, they all add up to something inside you, and when you can remember this, that all the bad and good and big and small make up who you are, you'll be able to trust and understand yourself and your reactions easier."

Namjoon had come to learn a lot about himself, just from their one and a half hours together.

That his competitive drive stemmed from childhood, from being a star student but a second-guessed son in comparison to his siblings, his grades eventually levelling out against other students, leaving him angry and unsure with where he actually stood anymore.

That these issues mingled with puberty, a messy time of despair and a feeling of failure, of not being the clever son he had once been, with the added horror of being attracted to boys, something Namjoon had tried to shove away desperately.

That he could only find solace in words, poems and books before turning to music and rap, the only outlet at the time for his pain, the discovery of rap leading him to find himself once more, reconnect with a talent, a place in a world that he'd seemed to slipped away from.

A hobby that became a goal, a place he exceeded and created friends, healthy rivals, ambition and passion coming back so fast, leading him to move into the city, to make his own way through school and the start of his adult life, finding work, working hard on lyrics and music.

Talking to Eunha reminded Namjoon of when he'd first discovered Yoongi's music online, had felt awed and touched and also jealous, the threat of a talented rival, those feelings throttled full force when they came face to face in that very first rap battle.

Yoongi, Agust D, had been so beautiful, and so very frightening, and Namjoon had been terrified.

It seemed clear as day, saying it all out loud as someone listened, that Namjoon had fallen for Yoongi back then.

That he'd wanted more than anything to talk to Yoongi, to tell him he was amazing, and that the loss to Agust D was an honour.

But their gazes had met, and Yoongi had left, and Namjoon had been so furious, so bitter, had let that taint him and drive him towards a vendetta that spanned for far too long. Yoongi never paid him attention, so Namjoon had done something stupid.

So their feud had began.

And now here Namjoon was, two years later, cat on his lap, wishing he could take it all back.

"How do you usually vent your feelings, when they get too much?" Eunha asked, after Namjoon finished his spiel about his anger, about how it made him angrier, to know that the anger shouldn't even be there in the first place.

"I dunno," Namjoon's mouth tasted like tea and sugar, and Biscuit's purring was making him sleepy. "I guess I don't really vent much."

"It's so important to have an outlet," Eunha was tapping her pen to a pink clipboard, scanning over her handwritten notes. "Letting things build up inside is like poisoning yourself, and we can't have that, right?"

"Right... I mean, sometimes, I vent it into my lyrics... but I'm not sure I like that." Namjoon spoke, feeling a little nervous.

"There's a reason for that," Eunha continued, eyes bunching as she smiled. "I've had people come and see me, artists and writers and people who create and build and design, who put their feelings into those beloved hobbies and ruin them."

"Ruin them?"

"Yes. If you channel all the bad and all the pain into something you love... one day, you won't be able to separate them. People who love art and only put their pain into it -- soon, doing art will become painful. And that's a tragic thing to happen."

The thought of never being able to write lyrics or perform without love and happiness terrified Namjoon so much, that he wondered if he might cry again.

"That's all I know how to do though," he eventually spoke, pulling his gaze up from Biscuit, frowning. "If I can't vent into what I know, and know what works, what else can I do, to deal with how I feel?"

"There are many ways in this world, but that's part of your journey, to discover them. I can suggest a billion million things, but I can't say for sure what will work for you. Being human, and being alive is all a messy journey without a clear set of rules. It's hard, right?"

"It's so hard."

"But being a human, and being alive, it's so beautiful too. There are so many things in this world that hurt, and so many things in this world that make the pain bearable. Sometimes, those things can be so tiny or strange, and that's okay."

When it was time to leave, Eunha handed Namjoon a piece of paper, and Biscuit licked his hand.

"I've written some things for you to try, that maybe you'd like as a way to vent, but if they don't strike your fancy, that's okay too. I've also left you some homework, for next time, if you'd like to come back."

Namjoon pocketed the paper as if it was a precious treasure, tucking it away inside his cardigan, and when he stood, it felt as if the air was lighter, as if his shoulders were touching the skies. Like it wasn't as hard to breathe anymore.

"You'll probably feel very weird for a while, once you get home and have time to think and reflect," Eunha said from her front door, Biscuit sitting between her slippers as they said goodbye. "So take care, be gentle with yourself tonight, and if you need, have a nice, big cry!"

"Thank you," Namjoon bowed, feeling the cool of the impending evening start to settle on his skin. "Thank you so much, I'll be in touch."

"Don't forget your homework!"

"I won't!"

Namjoon cried, as soon as his own front door closed behind him.

He sank to the floor and cried into his hands, shaking head to toe, face wet and palms clammy, sniffling like a child as the weight of the day finally sank back through him.

There was something so gratifying, about finally speaking his truth to someone, but also something terrifying, to realise that everything that had ever happened to him in his entire existence, all contributed towards who he was, and what he did and wanted with his life.

It was something he'd never really thought on, on the why's and the how's of where his emotions came from, burying them beneath goals and dreams instead of questioning and trying to understand.

It all made so much fucking sense now, thinking on Yoongi and how Yoongi made him feel and all the things he had done to try not to feel those things.

How Yoongi set off his competitive nature because he needed that to distract from how Yoongi's smile made his tummy feel like there were butterflies trapped inside him.

How he had to be angry at Yoongi to cover up the lust, to cover the shame he'd once felt, when he'd discovered he liked boys instead of girls.

The shame that he thought he didn't have anymore, since coming out and being honest to everyone he believed should know, realising now that all these feelings left a residue inside him, a residue turned toxic when all combined together.

Yoongi had been the trigger for it all.

And Namjoon had flipped the switch in the wrong direction, he could see that now.

"Regret doesn't help, because we can't change what's happened, or what we decided to do in the past," Eunha had said, Namjoon recalling as his tears started to dry. "All we can do is use the past as a pathway, to better things we want to do and feel and become."

Namjoon studied the paper Eunha had given him, after a long hot shower where he blasted music to give himself a break from the churning gears that were his mind right now.

It was halved, one half with a title in cursive, that said "Possible ways to vent the !!!bad!!! feelings," and the other half that said "Namjoon's homework". The homework seemed easy in theory, but taking it in, Namjoon knew he was going to struggle.

List 10 tiny things that give you happiness. The smaller, the better! (Eunha's example!: I feel happy when I see Biscuit laying in the sunshine, and that alone, makes my world a happier place) Your turn!

Namjoon didn't want to tear his brain apart anymore for tonight, so he turned to the vent list instead, and skimmed.

There were jot points of things to try, things like swimming, a class for something new and strange, like pottery, taking a walk in nature, taking care of a friend's pet.

Namjoon frowned at all of them, unsure, before tucking the paper away on his desk, and retreating to bed, where he immediately knocked out.

When he woke in the morning, he had a text from Hoseok, a small "I know you're probably dead from yesterday, but I wanted to tell you I'm so proud of you Joonie! Let's get pancakes later if you feel up for it!"

Namjoon had never eaten so many pancakes in his entire life.

Hoseok watched on with silent awe, as Namjoon devoured a whole plate, before ordering a second, spilling syrup all over the sliced bananas and berries.

"Hungry, hey?"

"You have no idea," Namjoon mumbled, mouth full.

"It's so tiring, right?" Hoseok was carving up his own remaining pancake, taking a moment to sip at his milkshake. "You'd never think talking could make you feel so drained."

"I feel like I've just hiked up and down a mountain," Namjoon whined. "My body even hurts too."

"Aw."

When Namjoon felt sated, he brought up the list.

"What did she suggest?" Hoseok was intrigued, slurping at his milkshake.

"Uhh, things like swimming, and pottery and stuff."

"Anything else?"

"Uhh... walking through nature?"

This caught Hoseok's attention.

"You know, there is like, a forest on the back of Jin hyung's property. You could always wander about there, it's really pretty, and I'm like 100% there are no murderers out there."

"That's reassuring."

"And Jin wants us all to hang out again soon, so I bet we'll both get an invite for next weekend or something."

"All of us?"

Yoongi?

Hoseok smiled softly, sadness flicking in his eyes, as if he knew exactly what Namjoon was thinking.

"Yeah, all of us."

Hoseok was right, and come Thursday, and invite was extended for them both to come to Seokjin's again on the weekend, something that filled Namjoon with hope, and dread.

He had to ask.

"Will Yoongi be there?"

"I don't know," Hoseok replied over the phone, as Namjoon called him after work, ready to catch the bus home. "Seokjin said Yoongi's been... not so chatty lately, so I guess whatever happened within his family isn't good."

"That's... really sad."

"Yeah, it is..."

Hoseok swallowed loudly over the line.

"What will you do, if he is there?"

"I really don't know," Namjoon sighed, pulling away his cafe apron, shoving it into his bag. "Not fuck him again, that's for sure."

"That's a wise plan."

"I just wanna talk to him, explain everything and understand what the fuck happened," Namjoon was getting frustrated again, just thinking about it. "I'm so... mad and bleh."

"I'm sure you'll get your chance to get it all out," Hoseok was sleepy, Namjoon could tell. "I'm sure."

Namjoon didn't get his chance.

Because Yoongi wasn't there at Seokjin's house, come Saturday.

Taehyung and Jimin were though, playing about in the pool beneath the warm sunshine, waving to Namjoon and Hoseok as they came out to greet them.

And then Namjoon spotted Jungkook, on a sun chair, in his giant black clothes, listening to music, eyes closed.

Jin shook Jungkook awake to say hi, and Namjoon saw pity in Jungkook's big eyes, a small smile gracing small lips, pulling his headphones from his ears before waving.

"Hey Hobi, Joon, nice to see you guys again."

"Can't believe you're sleeping on such a pretty day!" Hoseok teased, making Jungkook giggle. "You don't wanna swim with your hyungs?"

"Ah," Jungkook scratched at his fluffy hair, shrugging. "Not today, I sprained a finger, I can't get the bandages wet."

"Again?"

"...yeah..."

After Hoseok asked Jin to explain to Namjoon where to walk to enter the mass of trees in the not so far distance, Namjoon double checked his phone for power, patted his pocket to make sure he had his notebook and pen, and readied himself to explore.

Someone tugged his sleeve.

"Not gonna swim?" Jungkook asked, looking up at Namjoon with confusion.

"Nah, I was gonna go for a walk, check out the woods."

Jungkook paused, looking nervous, before continuing.

"Can... c-can I join you? I know some c-cool places in there."

Namjoon almost wanted to say no.

The walk was kinda awkward, with Jungkook trailing next to his side, the sun blaring down on them, Namjoon starting to sweat.

By the time they reached the edge of the woodlands, Namjoon had stripped from his cardigan, and Jungkook was tying up his hair.

"It's so hot," Namjoon finally broke the silence, whining. "God, it's hot. Should have gone swimming instead."

Jungkook laughed, suddenly aged from pulling the hair from his face, looking handsome, glistening with sweat.

"We can always turn back?"

"Nah," Namjoon felt determined, wanted to accomplish something on his list, see if it helped, even if taking a walk could distract from the fact that Yoongi wasn't here. "We're already here, so might as well stroll."

"Can't argue with that."

It was nice beneath the trees, the shade casting them in patches of coolness, Namjoon sighing every time, wiping the sweat from his brow. There were no flowers in bloom, but everything was green and lush, the grass soft beneath his trainers.

Jungkook was the first to speak.

"I... I did some research. A-about you."

Namjoon blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"I mean," Jungkook continued, fiddling with his earrings nervously. "About you and Yoongi hyung. I know he raps. I... I know he's Agust D."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Namjoon didn't really know what to say, so he remained silent, and waited for Jungkook to reach his point. Jungkook swallowed loudly.

"All the blogs that r-review underground rap say you two are rivals."

"That's because we are."

"But... you love him, r-right?"

Namjoon shuddered.

"Yeah... I do."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Yes."

Jungkook was biting his lip, as silence filled the clearing, as they walked through soft grass, the the shade of tall trees.

Like he was waiting to say something important.

Namjoon was impatient.

"Just say it, Jungkook."

"No one else knows, that Yoongi raps in secret," the younger boy whispered it, as if scared the others would be able to hear. "He didn't want us to know, I feel so g-guilty having found out, but... I... I don't think Yoongi is dating someone. I don't."

Namjoon's head whipped around so fast, he was surprised he didn't break his neck and die immediately.

"What??"

"W-we just assumed, like, because he would go out once a month, s-stay the night somewhere, we assumed it was a boyfriend, he never said, we just--"

Jungkook looked ready to burst into tears.

"Yoongi hyung never says anything, h-he's so closed off and private, we thought he had someone on the s-side, that he could only see once every so often, because h-his family are so... y'know--"

"I don't know, actually."

Jungkook blinked, the stars in his eyes glittering in the sunshine.

"You don't know, about Yoongi?"

Namjoon's chest felt ready to burst.

"I only know what he brings to the stage, and none of it is about his family."

Jungkook blinked, and blinked, and blinked.

"Yoongi's parents are like... lawyers... for... uhh... organised criminals. Like... gangs and crime s-syndicates and stuff."

"Holy shit, what?"

"Yeah. Like, rich rich. Yoongi hyung has never said it but... I don't think he gets on well w-with them, because of it."

Namjoon felt stunned, like all the air in his lungs had disappeared instantly.

That wasn't what he expected.

"Yoongi hyung is hard to read, but he always seems so tired," Jungkook looked so concerned, so sad. "We always worry about him so much."

Namjoon felt nervous.

"Yoongi didn't show up to the last rap battle," he admitted, sweating profusely, no longer because of the sunlight. "He always shows up, but this time... he didn't."

"Jin hyung says he's talked to Yoongi," Jungkook frowned. "But he's not come over since."

"Shit," Namjoon ran a hand through his hair, trying to fight back the panic in his ribs. "Is he... could he be in danger?"

"No," Jungkook sounded so sure, brows furrowing. "Yoongi's family is protected and powerful, there's never been an instance of him being in danger."

"Then why did he leave like that, and why hasn't he come back?"

"We've known Yoongi for a very long time, Namjoon... and we never knew about this other life--"

Jungkook winced.

"--I think you got too close to where he divides. I think he got s-scared."

They walked in silence after that, Jungkook falling behind a little, Namjoon just trying to breathe.

His chest was aching with Jungkook's words, with the creeping realisation that Jungkook was probably right.

That Namjoon was probably the only person to glimpse both sides of Min Yoongi.

Agust D, and his pastel shadow.

Or was it the other way around?

It didn't make Namjoon feel special though, it made him feel guilty, calling back those moments in the restaurant, the karaoke room, moments where Yoongi was angry and on edge, no doubt fucking terrified that Namjoon would slip and reveal too much.

But that's what Namjoon didn't understand in his reflecting.

Seokjin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin – they loved Yoongi.

There was no doubt in Namjoon's mind that anything could change that, that this secret persona, this fierce rapper that took the stage and left ruin in his wake, could be disowned or ridiculed by people that loved him so much.

It was so sad to think about, picturing Yoongi trapped between his lives, the fear he must feel at being found out.

How lonely he must be.

Namjoon wondered if Yoongi was lonely right now, and that thought made Namjoon stop in his tracks, hands clenched to his sides, teeth grit, trying to breathe.

What if Yoongi was lonely?

Why can't I reach him?

Why can't I hold him and tell him it's gonna be alright?

Why did I fucking ruin everything?

It's not your fault, he could almost hear Eunha's voice, soft, reassuring, full of certainty as Namjoon tilted his head to sky, staring at the gathering clouds, chest heaving.

It's not your fault.

Mistakes show us what we want.

Mistakes give us a chance to do better.

Namjoon remembered his homework.

List 10 tiny things that give you happiness.

He flinched as a raindrop hit his cheek.

"Oh, it's starting to rain."

Jungkook was at his side again, his big eyes wide with awe, joining Namjoon as they stared at the grey clouds. The leaves in the canopy above seemed to be shuddering in anticipation, another drop splattering into Namjoon's eyebrow.

For some reason, Namjoon had to fight away the urge to cry.

“Wanna turn back?” Jungkook asked, blinking, as the rain started to fall properly, soaking Namjoon’s hair, his shirt, his hitched breath coming out as a sigh.

He didn’t want to. Not yet.

But it was raining and normal people didn’t just stand around in the rain.

Namjoon sighed.

“Yeah, we better head back.”

Jungkook cradled his arm the entire walk back, protecting the bandages on his finger, the one he had sprained, and when Namjoon questioned it, Jungkook giggled, flushed pink, his previously tied hair now hanging down his neck in wet strands of black.

“How’d you sprain it?”

“Uhh, tried to do a flip, landed funny. It’s okay though, I heal p-pretty fast.”

Namjoon raised a brow, drenched with rain, blinking it away from his lashes as they started on the trail back to Seokjin’s.

“The first time I ever heard your name mentioned, it was because Jin hyung said you were in the ER from breaking a finger doing a handstand.”

“Ah,” Jungkook looked so embarrassed, glancing away. “Yeah… I remember that.”

“I’m gonna call you “Reckless and Wild Jungkookie” from now on.”

“That’s a long nickname. You’ll get tongue tied.”

“I’m a rapper,” Namjoon grinned, wiping the rain from his clears, the sky starting to clear now, the falling water becoming sparse. “I don’t get tongue tied.”

“Who told you I broke my finger anyways?” Jungkook was fake pouting, still blushing, still protecting his injured arm. “I’ll fight them for spilling m-my secrets.”

“I was there for the phone call,” Namjoon shrugged, the sunlight coming back now, leaving streaks of yellow on the path. “At the restaurant. We were supposed to all meet and then do karaoke I think?”

“Oh,” it was like realisation suddenly dawned on Jungkook, giving Namjoon a strange look, like everything was falling into place. “Oh.”

Namjoon swallowed nervously.

“Oh?”

“Yoongi called me that night, to come and get him.” Jungkook glanced away, awkwardly. “He w-was really… upset. He tried to hide it, but I knew.”

The fancy car that Yoongi got into that night –

Namjoon shuddered at the memory of it all.

“Yeah, we… uhh… wasn’t a good time. It was my fault.”

Jungkook didn’t really say anything, just hummed in acknowledgement, Namjoon feeling awkward now, pulling at his wet shirt.

Jungkook luckily decided to break the silence though, clearing his throat, not meeting Namjoon’s gaze.

“I can’t really picture Yoongi hyung on a stage, to be honest. He’s so...”

Beautiful, Namjoon thought. Jungkook, he’s so beautiful on that stage.

“…shy,” Jungkook continued. “Yoongi hyung has always been shy, and quiet, and subdued. He always sits on the sidelines and just watches us, like hes too s-scared to join in and have fun.”

That made Namjoon so sad that it hurt in his stomach, made his heart feel like it was being squeezed tight, the thought of Yoongi restraining himself around his friends, of being silent out of fear of showing them the side of Min Yoongi that Namjoon knew.

Fierce and witty, passionate and outspoken, not afraid to say his truths, not afraid to put anyone in their fucking place.

The small parts of Yoongi that Namjoon adored, the small parts of Yoongi that deserved to live in the sunshine too, not tucked away and reserved for once a month, for a shitty unknown stage in a dark bar where people came to worship one version of him.

But since Jungkook knew that secret now, Namjoon wasn’t afraid to talk about it, trusting Jungkook, recognising him as a true friend, as someone who loved Yoongi the way Yoongi deserved, but maybe not a way Yoongi himself was aware of.

“Yoongi on stage,” Namjoon could feel the sun kiss his skin, soft and warm, the air sticky from the humidity of the fallen rain. “Seeing it, and hearing him – it’s like a religious experience.”

“He’s that good?”

“He’s the best,” Namjoon didn’t lie, recalling Yoongi beneath the lights, glowing and sweat drenched, mic pressed to his doll lips as he spat angry words. “I was so jealous of him. I wanted to dethrone him so badly.”

“Is that why you guys fell out?”

Namjoon paused.

“You need to have something first, in order to fall out. We were never anything but rivals. And then suddenly, we were something, and it was so fast and weird and angry. If I hadn’t been so jealous, so spiteful, if I had talked to him years ago… maybe this would be different.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looked so sad, like he could feel what Namjoon felt, big eyes watery, the corners of his bright lips down-turned. “But… maybe not. I think things happen for reasons. Like destiny.”

“Destiny?”

“Yes,” Jungkook nodded, damp curls falling into his eyes. “Destiny. Like everything that’s happened and is happening and will happen is m-meant to be.”

“Sounds like a movie plot.”

Jungkook shrugged.

“Even if things aren’t destiny, or if destiny isn’t real… we’re still learning important things, right? That’s all that really matters anyways,” Jungkook continued.

Important things.

Speaking the truth.

Acknowledging feelings.

Accepting love and understanding hate.

“I do think it’s dumb though,” Jungkook mumbled, giving Namjoon a cautious side eye. “The two of you. Especially Yoongi.”

“Nah, Yoongi didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t call him dumb.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whined, Namjoon endeared by the honorific, blushing slightly. “If you’d seen him when he talks about y-your music, you’d call him a moron too. For not immediately talking to you at the first chance he got.”

Oh right.

Jungkook had claimed Yoongi was his biggest fan.

Still seemed so impossible honestly, but Namjoon was painfully curious.

“The idea of Yoongi listening to my music by his own free will sounds like something that would only happen in a parallel universe.”

“I don’t remember which song it was, but when he got the email of it dropping, he locked himself in one of Jin hyung’s bathrooms, and he didn’t come out for h-hours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds fake.”

“Swear on my life,” Jungkook crossed his heart, eyes closed in prayer. “It happened. He was really excited, it was adorable.”

Adorable.

Yoongi being adorable, locking himself away to listen to Namjoon’s music like an excited teenager, the mere thought of that happening making Namjoon’s heart skip a beat, making him blush furiously.

Such a different image to the Yoongi that sneered at him, come battle time.

The thought didn’t leave him over dinner either, Seokjin having ordered takeaway, everyone crammed onto the couches to feast and watch a movie Taehyung had decided on. Namjoon had since showered and changed, tried to relax, but it was impossible.

Yoongi was supposed to be here, and it seemed everyone could feel his absence, even though it went unsaid, and from that Namjoon felt guilt, felt strange, wondered if everyone in the room knew it was his fault, wondering if they wished Namjoon would just leave.

But when he met gazes, Taehyung smiling at him, sunburnt yet gorgeous, Jimin in his arms, there was happiness there, and friendship, and Namjoon felt welcomed.

But Yoongi wasn’t here.

And it was his fault.

Namjoon was the first to depart for bed, Seokjin leading him down the hallway, Namjoon too exhausted from the rainy walk and talk with Jungkook, exhausted from worrying about Yoongi, not even realising Jin was leaving him at the door, the one Yoongi had cried against, that night.

"Yoongi's not here, so, you can take his usual room," Jin said with a big smile, unaware of Namjoon's internal horror. "It's the nicest one on this floor, and we just got new sheets!"

Namjoon didn't want to be rude.

"Thank you Seokjin hyung."

"Sleep well!"

Namjoon was alone, in the last place he'd seen Yoongi, in the last place they'd be together, where they'd kisses and created mistakes, where he told Yoongi how he felt and Yoongi had fled from his arms.

It took an eternity to peel back those sheets and climb beneath the covers.

It took an eternity to sleep too, haunted by the presence of the room, knowing what they'd done in there, Yoongi's terror and his tears, the disbelief in his pretty eyes as Namjoon confessed and tried to hold him.

Yoongi hadn't believed him.

And Namjoon understood.

His dreams were of rain in the forest, heavy and dark but calming, even though there was only trees and overgrow in sight. Namjoon could feel himself soaked through entirely, could feel the grass brush against his ankles, could hear the clouds rumble in a thunderous warning.

It should have been scary but it felt nice, freeing, and Namjoon walked toward, rain falling, falling down his cheeks, his nose, dripping from his chin.

Yoongi was in the distance, he could see him, standing there in greys, soaked through with rain too.

"Are you cold?" Dream Yoongi asked, tilting his head. Namjoon knew he was supposed to feel panicked by the sight of Yoongi before him, but he only felt calm.

"No, are you?"

"Sometimes. But not right now."

"It's raining," Namjoon said, stretching out his hand to catch it.

"I like the rain."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Yoongi wasn't smiling, wasn't moving, but there was peace here, beneath the blackening sky. "I wish it would rain forever."

Namjoon awoke, drenched in sweat, rich cotton sheets sticking to him as he tried to escape them.

It was still dark, Namjoon's phone said it was 4am, and he didn't know what to do, feeling the impact now of Yoongi in his dream, feeling shaken and riddled with guilt, not wanting to get back into bed, into the bed where he'd fucked Yoongi and Yoongi had cried.

It wasn't okay.

He couldn't stand it, being in the room, so Namjoon gathered his bag, his discarded clothes, and left, heading down the hallways, praying he didn't get lost.

It was easy enough to find the lounge room, Jungkook asleep on the couch, a blanket draped over him, snoring softly, long hair hiding most of his face.

Namjoon took an arm chair opposite, pulled out his notebook, his pen, pushed headphones into his ears, and stared at the paper.

What did Eunha say?

10 tiny things that bring me happiness?

Jungkook let out a little sound, and flipped over on the couch, Namjoon'd heart still racing, but glad to know now that he wasn't alone.

10 tiny things.

Why do they have to be tiny?

This is fucking stupid.

It's stupid.

Everything is fucking stupid.

I'm stupid, I'm stupid, I fucked up, I fucked up--

Jungkook groaned, turned again, and even in the dark, those wide eyes glittered like stars.

"...Joon?"

Stupid, fucked up, and now made Jungkook wake up too.

Nice work, Namjoon.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back, feeling so awful, feeling so angry at himself. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"'s fine," Jungkook yawned, closing his eyes again, barely awake. "Whatcha writing? Rap?"

"No," Namjoon felt awful. "I have homework. It's hard. I suck."

Jungkook laughed, sleepy and loud.

"You don't suck. What's the thing? The work? I could help maybe."

Namjoon explained about the 10 tiny things, but he left out the part about therapy. Jungkook hummed from beneath his blanket.

"That IS hard."

"Told you."

"I think I have one though," Jungkook didn't even look conscious right now, and Namjoon wondered if maybe the younger was sleep talking. "For me, I mean. A tiny thing."

"Can I hear it?"

"Flips."

Namjoon blinked, confused, brows furrowed.

"Huh?"

"I said, flips."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Doing flips, or dumb stuff like that. Or handstands."

"Reckless and Wild Jungkookie," Namjoon huffed out a small laugh. "Why are flips and handstands your tiny happiness?"

The answer made Namjoon's eyes water.

"Because it makes my hyungs smile," the pretty boy mumbled, sleep coming back for him fast. "When I'm silly, and do silly things, they a-always smile and laugh. I don't mind if I fall, if I can make my friends smile."

Jungkook was back to snoring in moments, and Namjoon was left in shock.

So much profound happiness, from such a small action.

Eunha's homework suddenly made too much sense, and it made Namjoon numb, stunned and breathless, made the homework seem even more impossible.

Namjoon tapped at the paper forever, black pen speckles left over the ruled lines, skimming his brain for anything, anything, anything tiny, happy and as fucking profound as Jungkook had been, but he came up blank.

What brought him happiness like that?

Was there even anything?

Or was Namjoon's happiness all superficial, did his happiness rely on praise for what he did, a chance of winning on that stage? Was his happiness tied up in those feelings of anger and incompetence, or envy and defeat?

Was there any happiness at all?

Pancakes.

Namjoon gasped.

Pancakes.

Spefically the pancakes from that one pancake place he couldn't pronounce the name of, the place he and Hoseok went often, a place where they just existed together and ate until they had to roll out the door.

Pancakes.

Namjoon scribbled it down fast.

He tried to think of more, but he was starting to get tired again, eyelids drooping, pen falling from between his fingertips, so he pushed it all away, curled up into the arm chair, and was lulled back asleep to the white noise of Jungkook breathing.

It was raining when he woke up.

It was still early, Jungkook dead to the world, arms and legs hanging from the couch, blanket now over his head, and Namjoon couldn't hear anyone else moving about yet, sitting up as sleep cleared from his head.

He was possessed with an urge.

An urge to run.

He didn't even change, just beelined for the back door, pulling on his shoes, not taking anything with him, phone and notepad abandoned by the couch.

It was so weird, the weirdest thing he'd ever felt, but the urge was so strong, like something hot beneath his skin.

Run.

Run.

Namjoon ran.

He ran from the back door out into the rain, gasped from the coolness of it in the chill of the dawn, skin goosebumping, hair dripping, clothing starting to stick, but he ran, ran down the path, ran towards the forest, dark trees in the distance getting closer.

The sky was getting lighter but the rain was getting heavier, and even though it was making Namjoon feel sluggish, even though his thighs burned from the sudden burst of exercise, he powered on, on and on, through the treeline, into the woods, grass brushing past his ankles.

Yoongi wasn't there, but Namjoon already knew that.

"It's cold," Namjoon said out loud, breathless, having stopped in a small clearing, only the sounds of leaves dripping to join his voice. "Yoongi, it's cold."

Without you its cold.

I don't know what to do.

Please come back.

It was like a silent prayer from that moment onwards.

Please come back.

Please come back.

When Namjoon returned from the woods, soaked and dirty, he prayed in the shower. Please come back.

When he ate breakfast with the others, pancakes, pancakes, please come back, come back.

The car ride home, staring out the windows, everything glistening with rain, please Yoongi, please, come back, come back.

Please come back.

It was like he was begging the universe, like he was trying to bargain with fate, destiny, whatever Jungkook had said.

Please.

Please.

And then, it was the last Saturday of the month, and Namjoon was a trembling wreck, a fucking mess, slurring his rap as he practiced, feeling like his very bones were shuddering inside of his body.

Hoseok was on the phone.

"I'm gonna come this time."

"Okay."

The bar was bustling with life, and Namjoon was terrified, he knew he looked terrified too, if the way Hoseok was watching him was anything to go by. But Hoseok was silent and supportive, giving him small smiles, at the bar, sipping his juice.

"Gonna go get ready?"

"Yeah," Namjoon was sweating, his palms wet, wet behind the knees. Even in his outfit, blacks and chains, he felt weak, knew whatever he did on stage tonight would look weak. "Do you... think Yoongi might show up?"

"Maybe," Hoseok looked so sad. "Time will tell, Joonie."

Namjoon took to the dressing rooms, greeted the others gearing up to perform, having caught a glimpse of the door to Yoongi's reserved change room before entering, noticing it with a skipped heartbeat that the door was closed.

That someone was inside.

Namjoon wanted to both vomit and cry but did neither, just ran over his lyrics, wiped the sweat away from beneath his hat.

Yoongi could be in there, this could be it.

He could finally see him, finally tell Yoongi everything, or at least do his best. Do his best--

That's when Namjoon noticed the bar manager, a man he knew by face but not by name, peeking through the door, beckoning Namjoon to come over with a curl of his finger. Namjoon frowned and followed, confused.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt when you're prepping," the manager said with a small laugh, smiling, the wrinkles on his face catching the shadows in the tiny hallway. "I wanted to run past an offer with you, in case you're interested?"

"What?" Namjoon blinked.

"That room," the manager pointed, pointed at Yoongi's change room. "Do you wanna rent it? You bring in a lot of good business here, so you were the next choice."

Namjoon's stomach dropped to his feet.

"...what?"

"The room," the manager repeated. "You wanna rent it?"

"But... that's Yoongi's--"

"Was, Yoongi's. We got a call from him at lunch time, and he said he doesn't need it anymore. So you were second choice. What do you think?"

Namjoon didn't have words, couldn't form them properly.

He felt like he was going to collaspe.

"I can't," Namjoon felt numb, head to toe. "I can't."

Namjoon fled the hallway, pushed through the slowly gathering crowd, heard Hoseok call after him, and ignored it all, bursting out into the back alley instead, gritting his teeth, eyes pressed to his palms as he wept.

It was raining again, raining, always fucking raining, and then Namjoon was on his knees, alone, sobbing into a puddle as Hoseok came to cradle him from behind.

"He's not coming back!" Namjoon almost screamed, rocking in Hoseok's arms. "He's not, he's not, Hobi, fuck--"

"I'm sorry," Hoseok was lost for words, pulling Namjoon close, sounding close to tears himself. "Namjoon, Namjoon, I'm so so sorry."

"I don't know what to do," Namjoon was heaving, felt sick, felt so sick. "I fucked up, I love him, I don't know what to do--"

"Let's go home," Hoseok pulled Namjoon to his feet, hugged him tight, let Namjoon cry into his shoulder. "Come on, lets go home."

Hoseok called Seokjin, when he thought Namjoon was fast asleep, tucked away in Hoseok's bed, in pajamas, clean and fresh and heartbroken.

Hoseok was obviously explaining it all to Seokjin for the first time, not the rap battles, but that they knew each other, that they'd hated each other and hurt each other, and that Namjoon was suffering so much.

Namjoon could hear Hoseok crying, out in the lounge room.

"Please," Hoseok was begging, snuffly and quiet. "Jinnie please, can you just... c-call Yoongi, ask him to please meet with Joon, please, he's hurting so much--"

A long pause, and Namjoon felt awful for listening in, but couldn't force himself to stop.

Hoseok gasped.

"What do you mean?"

Another long pause, and Hoseok was whimpering.

"Jin, why didn't you say anything?? You said he was okay, you told EVERYONE... and he's not been answering... for weeks?"

Another long pause.

"I understand you didn't want the boys to worry but..."

Hoseok was sniffling so loudly. Namjoon wanted to cry too, and hug him tight.

"I know. I know Jungkook would have-- and you can't reach him at all? Is he -- okay. Yeah. Yeah, okay. Can you just... can you keep trying, please? Please, baby, please--"

Another pause, and then Hoseok was whispering out thank you's, telling Seokjin he loved him, telling him to call, as soon as he knew anything new.

Hoseok looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he saw Namjoon was awake.

"I'm sorry," Hoseok whispered.

"What's going on?" Namjoon was scared to know.

Hoseok stood in the doorway, pale as a sheet.

"Seokjin hasn't been able to get into contact with Yoongi, since after that first call when... he left that night."

That night.

"He lied to the others, to keep them from worrying... and he says Yoongi is safe, that he'd know if something terrible happened... Namjoon, Yoongi is ignoring everyone--"

Please come back.

Namjoon was shaking.

Hoseok crawled into bed and held him.

Please come back.

It was selfish, Namjoon knew, worrying whether he would ever see Yoongi again, even though his own friends had been without him too, everyone either worried or unaware, unaware to whatever Yoongi was doing.

It was selfish, but Namjoon couldn't help it.

What if I never seen him again?

What do I do?

What the fuck do I do??

Hoseok was a warm presence on his back though, close and comfortable, rubbing his shoulders with graceful fingers, trying to settle the tremor racing through Namjoon's spine.

"I'm sorry," was all Hoseok repeated, until they fell asleep. "Namjoon, I'm sorry."

Two weeks had passed, and Namjoon knew he should return to Eunha soon, needed someone to talk to, needed to finish his stupid homework, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He even called in sick from his job and his classes, his older cousin the cafe manager, worried for him over the phone.

"You take all the time you need," she said, the reciever crackling. "No stress yeah? I got enough staff, you just rest."

"Thank you," Namjoon was so grateful.

Namjoon watched movies on his laptop, Namjoon ate a tonne of junk food and got a sore tummy, and he cried in his shower at least once a day, praying against the tiles in his sorrow, begging for Yoongi to come back.

Hoseok was worried, but Namjoon wouldn't let him in.

"I'll break the door down," Hoseok threatened from the other side, having made an impromptu stop by, Namjoon still in bed, in his briefs and nothing else. "Namjoon, come on."

"Can I just be alone, please," he didn't want Hoseok to see him in this state. "Please?"

"You're making me really fucking worried."

"I just need to be alone."

"That's the last thing you need."

"Tomorrow," Namjoon put out a compromise. "Please, tomorrow, we can do something tomorrow."

Hoseok sighed, muffled by wood.

"Fine. Tomorrow."

And then Hoseok was gone.

A text came through immediately though, from Hoseok, an "I love you even if you're being a dumb baby 😡😡😡", and Namjoon sniffled at the screen.

He tried to think of more tiny happinesses when his brain felt motivated, but everything fell short.

He could only think of Yoongi.

And then, a miracle happened.

Hoseok was calling.

Namjoon answered on the last ring.

"Hobi?"

Hoseok sounded so weird, that Namjoon felt sick.

"Hey... I uhh... I found Yoongi."

Namjoon inhaled so hard that he got lightheaded.

"Where?"

"Catch a taxi to the address I send you like, as soon as possible. I don't know how much longer he's gonna be here."

"Hoseok--"

"That's all I can say. I'll see you soon."

Hoseok hung up, and texted through an address.

Namjoon had never gotten ready faster in his life, scrubbing his teeth, throwing on an old jumper and jeans, grabbing his wallet and keys, racing out the door.

The taxi driver typed the address in with a weird expression, but Namjoon didn't care.

No matter how far away or how dangerous this place was, Namjoon didn't care.

He was surprised, when the taxi stopped at a McDonald's.

"I'm so sorry, but I'm kinda in a rush," Namjoon was annoyed, looking at the driver. "Can't food wait?"

"This is the address you gave me."

Oh.

Namjoon called Hoseok, but Hoseok just texted back.

Go inside and order me a drink, I'll be there soon.

Namjoon was annoyed, but did it anyways, pushing into the fast food joint, joining the queue.

It wasn't long but it was lunch time, and so it was crowded and loud.

There was a commotion happening at the counter though, Namjoon could see someone shouting, waving their arms around, everyone pushing forward to watch.

"You fucking idiot," the angry man was shouting, no doubt at some poor checkout girl. "Can't you fucking count?"

"The change is right," Namjoon heard someone reply, in a voice that was all too familiar, familiar enough for Namjoon to momentarily black out. "It's right, don't shout at me--"

"Fucking worthless, where is your manager?? You should be fired, speaking back to a customer--"

Namjoon was trying to push forward, trying, people annoyed, telling him not to cut the line, but Yoongi was there, Yoongi was fucking there, behind the counter in a fucking McDonald's uniform, crying as some asshole shouted him down.

"Please," Yoongi begged. "I'm sorry, but I c-counted it right--"

"Manager please!" the asshole was making a scene as Yoongi became visibly more and more distressed. "Can someone come and deal with his useless fucker?"

That's when Yoongi noticed Namjoon.

Eyes wide, tears falling, looking so humiliated that it hurt more than anything in the world.

((and thats tonights update! ;-; thank you for being patient with me guys, I hope you liked the surprise! its all gonna go uphill from here! you can also yell here if you wanna: ))

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