I've Got You || Vhope

Chapter One: Arrival

When Hoseok wakes, he finds the fields are encrusted with frost and the morning chill has seeped through the flagstones of the kitchen floor. Through the back window of the old farmhouse, he can see his father checking on the cows and his mother collecting eggs from the chicken hutch. It's peaceful out here, far away from the chaos and smog of the city. The sky is bright blue, the only sound between it and the horizon the rush of the wind and the faint clamour of the animals.

He potters around the kitchen, preparing coffee and breakfast for when his parents come back inside. He gets the frying-pan down from its hook on the ceiling, fills up the kettle.

Half an hour later, the kitchen smells of boiled rice and he's just thinking of going into the attic to check his messages--it's the only place for miles that he can get any reception and he hasn't messaged Taehyung in days--when something out the window catches his eye. He has to wipe the steam off the window to see clearly what's going on.

His father, whose morning routine is about as immovable as a mountain, is standing stock still in the middle of his field of cows, staring at something out of Hoseok's line of sight.

Hoseok watches him for a few minutes and sighs. Maybe the postman is late again and his father has decided to give him the evil eye in the hopes it'll make him pick up the pace.

He's just buttering himself toast, really wishing he'd packed slippers--or that he owns a pair of slippers--when the doorbell rings. Maybe it really is the postman his father's watching like a hawk. The postman is the only person who rings the doorbell around here. All his parents' friends let themselves in the few rare times they come over.

He carries on buttering his toast and is just taking his first bite when the bell rings again, followed by a series of hurried taps of the door-knocker.

"Hold on a sec!" he calls, taking the pot of rice off the hob. The knocking doesn't stop. It only gets louder, harsher. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Did his dad order something that needs signing for? If so, his evil eye must have really freaked the postman out.

Toast in his mouth, he takes the seven steps down the hall and yanks the front door open. "Sorry, I was--oh my god. Oh my god."

"Hey," Taehyung says faintly.

He's standing on the old front porch, dressed in what looks like every warm layer he's ever owned. There are worry-lines around his mouth, stamped across his forehead, and under his eyes heavy shadows hang like smudges of coal dust. He looks like he hasn't slept all night and Hoseok doesn't have to hug him to smell day-old sweat and stale bus and train seats.

"Oh my god," Hoseok says again, floorboards creaking as he steps outside, closing the door behind him to keep in the little heat the house has. It's his job to light the fire to warm the house while he's here and, well, he woke up late, so that hasn't happened yet. "Honey, w-what are you doing here?" he asks softly, taking Taehyung's cold face in his free hand. The end of his nose is red, nipped by the wind. "What are you doing here with a..." He surveys the objects in Taehyung's arms, laughing, "rubber duck and a pot plant?"

Taehyung hangs his head, sucking in a shaky breath, and shrugs. "I don't know. Missed you," he mumbles.

"Hey," Hoseok murmurs, lifting Taehyung's face. He gives him a soft, quick kiss, grimaces. Taehyung tastes about as good as he smells. He steps back, taking in Taehyung's appearance once more, concern twisting in his gut. "Are you okay?"

"Um..." Taehyung's lips quiver. He hugs his pot plant tighter--it's the one off the windowsill in his kitchen. "Well... I was... and then... he was... and the man... and they told me... and it was a week... and I was... and I can't... and I'm not... and I should have... but I didn't and now I'm... and I need... and they told me... and I just left a message... and we were... and my stuff... and I'm..." He looks ready to tear his own hair out, ready to cry as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and takes a shuddering breath and says, "You know how when I lost my job I said I had enough in my bank account to last me about five months, so I'd be fine. Well, it was one month and I'm not fine."