“I know that you're always there for me, Jin-hyungie.”
— In which Seokjin shows Yoongi that home doesn't have to just be your birthplace: it can also be a person.
💫💫💫💫
Playlist:
1. Tonight by Jin
2. Magic Shop by BTS💫💫💫💫
JUNE 1, 2019 — LONDON, ENGLAND
Good job today, guys!” the staff collectively praised the members, all of them bowing at each other as the members said it back and thanked them for their hard work and generous compliments.
They had just wrapped up their first concert at the famous Wembley stadium in London, and they felt, to put it simply, glorious. Exhausted as all hell, yes, but still glorious. They were the first ever Korean and Asian act to have performed there, not to mention for two days straight. BTS had made history and news yet again with this impressive feat, and they appreciated that more than they might let on.
Just as Yoongi was getting ready to head out of the stadium and follow the others, tired and just wanting to sleep but knowing he still had a lot of things to do like the rest of the members, his phone rang, and he was surprised to see who was calling him. He picked it up, genuinely curious as to what could’ve made her call him so suddenly and at this late hour.
“Hello? Mom? What’s up?”
Instead of words, all he heard through the speaker were loud sobs, and curiosity turned to alarm in an instant.
“Mom? What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?” he asked question after question, hands starting to tremble as he went to the bathroom of their dressing room for more privacy. His anxiety rose. His mother rarely ever cried like this.
“Y-Yoongi-ah… your brother… h-he—” her voice broke off into more sobs.
“What happened to him?! Mom!” No response. “Mom, tell me what happened to him!” he screamed, losing his patience as he pulled at his hair angrily, frustrated tears rolling down his face. His older brother, Min Geumjae, meant so unbelievably much to him. If something happened to him…
“He got a bad i-injury while playing basketball w-with your dad… it was an a-accident… but now he’s in c-critical condition… I just thought I should t-tell you since you’re his b-brother… I’m s-sorry—”
“When did this happen?” he cut her off, trying to calm himself.
“Y-Yesterday… I know you c-can’t come because you’re b-busy and that’s oka—”
“Shit, why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Calm was nowhere in his vocabulary now.
“I didn’t want to d-disturb you! Besides, it wasn’t this b-bad yesterday… I k-know you’re on tour and it w-wouldn’t do you any good if I had told you e-earlier because you’d be s-so worried and distracted… I wasn’t going to tell you at all, but then he f-flat lined this afternoon and they were barely able to r-revive him… His heart condition has gotten w-worse and he never told u-us…”
“Fuck,” he whispered as his knees gave way beneath him and he crumpled to the floor. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
“Yoongi-ah… I’m so s-sorry… I understand that y-you can’t come—”
“No, I’ll be there—”
“Don’t be r-ridiculous! You have one d-day left there in L-London, don’t waste it! Besides, it’s n-not like they’ll let you go a-anyways—”
“I don’t care! That’s my fucking brother! I’ll fight and crawl my way out of here if I have to! What if I stay here and he… he…”
“He won’t,” his mother said, voice turning firm despite the tears that continued to slip down her cheeks.
“Mom, you don’t know that—”
“Yes, I do. Have a little faith, Yoongi. He’ll g-get through this. We’ll get through this.” She declared, sounding as if she was doing her best to believe it herself. “Now, you have to listen to me. Stay there, got it? Or else you’ll really u-upset me and your brother. Do you want that?”
“No…”
“I thought so. You’ll stay there, then?”
“Yes.”
“Swear it. On your brother’s l-life.”
“Mom, that’s not—”
“Swear it, Min Yoongi.”
He sighed. There was no point in arguing with her. “I swear on hyung’s life that I’ll stay here.”
“Good. I won’t h-have to worry about that then, right?”
“Right... But Mom, you will update me on how he’s doing, right?”
She huffed in disbelief. “What do you take me for? Of course I will.”
“Just making sure…”
The sound of someone knocking on the bathroom door startled Yoongi. He hurriedly bid his mother goodbye, and without waiting for her reply, he ended the call and stood up, telling whoever it was outside to give him a few minutes. He turned to the mirror and immediately groaned.
He was a total mess. His eyes were red, glistening tear streaks ran down his face that was paler than usual, his clothes were rumpled, and his hair was tousled this way and that from the many times he ran his hands through it and pulled at it in agony. After splashing water on his face and patting it dry, he looked a bit more presentable. Sighing dejectedly, he mumbled a careless “fuck it” under his breath before opening the door.
Seokjin stood outside, waiting patiently, and Yoongi internally cursed. His only hyung in the group was known for his perceptiveness regarding people’s moods and emotions, thus making him the worst person to be the first one who would see Yoongi out of the bathroom.
What should he do? Should he start a conversation to make him seem normal, or should he just attempt to get away from there quietly? Would Seokjin let him go if he tried to do that? There were so many things to consider, and Yoongi was starting to panic. The possibilities were—
“Hey, Yoongi-ah, you okay? You don’t look too good,” Seokjin said concernedly, patting the younger’s shoulder softly.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine, hyungie. Everything’s okay.” It’s all falling apart.
“Hmm… You sure? I heard some screaming in there.”
Shit, shit, shit. “Very sure. And those were screams of happiness you heard. You know, Wembley concert, history was made.” He laughed nervously. Please help me, Jin-hyung. Those weren’t screams of happiness at all.
Seokjin narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously before shrugging and smiling brightly. “Alright, but remember, we’re always here for you whenever you need us. I’m always here for you. Don’t hold back. Got it?”
“Got it.” Yoongi made a thumbs-up pose, forcing himself to grin even though he wanted to throw his arms around Seokjin and cry into his chest from his words alone.
“Okay… So, can I use the bathroom now? I can’t hold it forever, you know.”
This miraculously elicits a chuckle out of him. “Sure, hyung,” he replied, moving to the side to clear the doorway.
“Thanks.” Seokjin smiled gratefully at him before practically running into the bathroom and locking the door behind him, which draws another short laugh out of Yoongi.
Sooner than later, though, all traces of happiness leaves his face, and he slumps into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands as he resisted the urge to cry again.
“Yo, hyung, you tired?” It was Namjoon this time. Yoongi hadn’t heard the bathroom door unlock, so the question must be directed at himself. He merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “Then wait for Jin-hyung and go back to the hotel already. Get some sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”
“But—” Yoongi started to argue, finally looking up at their leader. Namjoon cut him off with a stern, “No. All the other members have gone back, too. You need your rest, hyung.”
“So do you!”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not as old as you,” Namjoon teased, to which Yoongi groaned.
“Fine, you ungrateful brat.”
Just as Namjoon was about to protest, Seokjin came out of the bathroom. The younger male turned to the latter and shouted, “Hyung! Go home with Yoongi-hyung, now!”
Seokjin glared at him. “No need to yell at me. You could say that with a little more respect, Namjoon-ah.”
“Ah, s-sorry, hyung! I meant, uh—”
Yoongi laughed again, which made the other two in the dressing room look at him, Namjoon pouting, Seokjin slightly smiling. This was the second—no, third time he had laughed because of the elder since his breakdown back there. Jin-hyungie must have some kind of laughter magic, he thought.
“Suga-hyung, why are you so mean to me?” Namjoon whined.
“Sorry, couldn’t—”
At that moment, his eyes met Seokjin’s, who gave him a piercing look that said, quite plainly: I know you lied. I know you’re not okay. Then it softened, and now it said: You can talk to me, you know. When I said I’m here for you, I meant that.
“…help it,” Yoongi finished. He stared right back into Seokjin’s eyes, thinking, I’m sorry, hyungie, but I don’t want to bother or worry you with this.
Seokjin frowned, but he seemed to understand. He averted his eyes from Yoongi’s then looked back at Namjoon, who was staring at them as he murmured, “You guys are doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” the two asked at the same time.
“That! Your telepathy, your silent communication! You were talking with your eyes, I know it!”
“So what if we were? We’re practically soulmates,” Seokjin said with a shrug, and Yoongi’s mouth fell open a little at this, but he quickly closed it again. “Anyways, Namjoon-ah, didn’t you have something to say to me?”
“What?” Namjoon replied, looking distracted, and Seokjin rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, right! Um, Seokjin-hyung, please go back to the hotel with Yoongi-hyung as soon as possible, because you both worked hard and you really need your rest!” he squeaked, bowing to Seokjin at the end, who laughed.
“A little too much respect, but that’s better than earlier.” Namjoon’s brows furrowed, but a few seconds later, his face relaxed and he looked relieved. “Yoongi-ah, let’s get our stuff and go. We have to follow our dear leader’s orders,” he said with a grin, gathering his things as Yoongi stood up to do the same, Namjoon protesting in the background (“It wasn’t an order!” “I’m just looking out for my hyungs!” “You two do need your rest, you know!”).
When they had finished, they bid Namjoon goodbye and exited the building together. Their car was already waiting for them at the back, so they climbed into it and sat in silence for the whole ride. Even though they didn’t talk, as soon as they were seated, Seokjin took Yoongi’s hand in his, squeezed it gently, then simply held it in silent reassurance. Yoongi didn’t shake it off. It felt like his lifeline, his tether to sanity.
Seokjin had to let go when they reached the hotel, but Yoongi wished he hadn’t. Still, there was nothing he could do. It started to drizzle as they got out of the car, and when they entered the hotel, it turned into a heavy downpour.
After bidding each other goodnight, they entered their respective rooms, which were right across the hall from each other. Yoongi tried to focus on a song he was working on, but he couldn’t. He told himself it was because the thunder was too loud, but that was a lie. He was just too worried about his brother to concentrate.
With a frustrated sigh, he changed into his nightclothes and climbed into bed, too tired to shower as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The thunder and rain got even worse. After a while, he was trembling, but not because of the cold.
He was scared of the thunder.
“Min Yoongi, you’re a grown man, and you’re scared of a little thunder?” he scolded himself. “Get it together, for fuck’s sake.”
But he couldn’t stop trembling. It was too much. The fear of what would happen to his brother, and all these loud bangs and crashes… they reminded him of the motorcycle accident he’d gotten into. It happened so long ago, but he’s never been the same ever since.
He started crying. The misery and terror he felt seemed to crack his bones apart and rip his muscles into pieces. It seemed to set every nerve and fiber of his body on fire. He cried harder.
He couldn’t take it. He bolted out of bed and rushed to Seokjin’s door, pounding on it. It opened in a matter of seconds. He almost fell through it, but a pair of arms wrapped around him securely. He clung onto them, his mental state breaking down completely as he sobbed uncontrollably into Seokjin’s chest, on the verge of hyperventilating.
“J-Jin-hyung… m-my brother… hyung…”
Seokjin said nothing. He didn’t shush him, nor did he tell him to stop or to calm down. He just rubbed Yoongi’s back up and down repeatedly and kissed the crown of his head softly.
The lack of words said it all for the younger, and, like some kind of incomprehensible magic, it soothed him the most. He knew that Seokjin understood. He knew that Seokjin was here for him, like he’d said he would be. And right now, that was all he needed.
Slowly, painstakingly slowly, the tears subsided. He took great, heaving breaths, each one prickling his lungs, reminding him that he was alive. He was alive, but would his brother be when he came home?
A yelp of shock faintly registers in his brain, and that was his last conscious memory before it all shut down.
YOU ARE READING
reposer ☆ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢʰᵒᵗˢ
Acak❝ 𝙸𝚌𝚒 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚌 𝚝𝚘𝚒 𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗. ❞ one shots for my (or our?) soul(s??). they literally keep me from completely losing my shit, and i hope they make you happy somehow, too. ⚠️ SLOW UPDATES ⚠️ [ Copyright @ellastralis ] [ Start: 110...