the boy with the dragon tattoo - yoonmin

chapter two

"Fuck, long time no see, yoons,"

It's the deep daegu drawl that yoongi immediately recognises, what makes his veins turn to ice and the small smile on his face slip off into a carefully contained straight line. The familiar lilt of cockiness in the voice matches the smirk on the mans face as yoongi turns around to look at him, seeing him draped casually against the private rooms doorframe looking at no one but yoongi, as if he wasn't in a room full of six other men. Yoongis breath hitches in his throat, but after years of practice he manages to hide it well enough as his eyes travel over the man, he was still unequivocally handsome with dark eyes and tattoos snaking up his forearms and neck. But where his hair was long before it was now buzzed close to his head in a military style yoongi would never have guessed the man would have gone for, and his jawline was sharp and defined where it used to be a little rounder, a little softer. But they weren't teenagers anymore, so the faint dust of facial hair shouldn't really be that surprising to yoongi either. But it was.

Myungdae shifts against the doorframe, and yoongis immediately snapped from his nostalgia to let a small, tight smile fall across his lips as he stands.

"Myungdae, it's been a while," he forces out through a tight throat, grasping myungdaes outstretched hand and letting the taller man pull him into a bro hug. It's awkward when he pulls away and myungdae keeps his hand firmly in his, squeezing a little tighter, but yoongi hopes that doesn't come across on his face.

"What a coincidence, the first day I get to Seoul I find you, small world huh?" Myungdae chuckles, squeezing yoongis hand one last time before dropping it.

Myungdae being here wasn't a coincidence, and that threatening squeeze did nothing but prove that.

Yoongi chuckles along, but it feels like forcing vomit from his throat instead of laughter. "What brings you here?" He asks, painting on a sickly sweet smile and ignoring the curious gazes piercing his back.

"Work," the taller responds, his eyes dropping a shade darker for a second before brightening almost immediately after. "Mostly,"

Yoongi shivers, of course that was why he was here. Fear prickles it's way up yoongis spine and he has to clench his fists from shaking, when suddenly there's a clearing of a throat behind him and yoongi looks over his shoulder, having completely forgotten about the others in the room.

"Oh, right, this is myungdae, he's an old friend from daegu, we went to school together," yoongi forces out, gesturing to the man who leans away from the doorframe to fall into a polite bow, at which the others in the room drop their heads, not sure if they should stand or not.

"Nice to meet you all, I would ask for names but yoongi here has already told me all about you,"

That was a lie. Yoongi hadn't contacted him or anyone else since he left daegu to do music. Not even his father. Well, especially not his father.

They all smile back at him, only Jimin seems to sense the tension as his smile is a little forced when he sees myungdaes eyes fall back to yoongi, almost like a predator looking at its prey.

"You must be close then, yoongi told us he doesn't really keep in contact with the people from his hometown," Seokjin says, smiling confidently at myungdae who matches his smile almost too perfectly.

"Well," myungdae chuckles, "We used to be, lost contact a couple years ago, was it?" He says, looking over at yoongi as he pulls a pocket of cigarettes from his back pocket, hitting them slightly on his palm so that the tobacco falls evenly to the tip, like yoongi had taught him when they were fifteen.

Yoongi plays along. For now. "Yeah, you just stopped calling,"

"Broke my phone. Lost all the contacts, shame really, I missed talking to you. Maybe we can find time to catch up while I'm here?"