Chapter Text
✺
All it knows is peace. Peace, and a sense of unending contentment. It knows its place within the universe.
Its soul sings with joy.
☼
“So, you’re telling me that Jungkook just disappeared?”
Yoongi looks at him in disbelief, and Hoseok gets it, he does, it sounds unreal even to his own ears.
He fidgets in his seat - a plush, comfortable chair that looks a little like a tree stump, maybe it is a tree stump. “Him and the meteor he was hunting. Both just gone in the blink of an eye.” He sounds hollow as he speaks, but that’s honestly better than Hoseok had expected his retelling of the event to go. At least he’s not crying.
Yoongi stares at him still, blinking slowly, clearly trying to process everything that Hoseok has told him.
Hoseok clutches the warm cup of cha tightly between both hands. Yoongi sips at his slowly.
It was the only place Hoseok could think to come. To Yoongi, the only other person he’d met that also knows Jungkook. Yoongi had been understandably surprised to see Hoseok on his own, but he’d shut up shop and brought them both up to his dwelling when Hoseok had told him that Jungkook was gone.
“I don’t…I don’t know what happened.” He stares down into the dark depths of the cha, though there are no answers there to be found. “Have you ever heard of anything like this happening before?”
“Honestly, no.”
Yoongi’s answer makes Hoseok’s shoulders sag. He feels a weight drawing him down, making it hard to breathe, ever since that moment.
“But there’s a lot of things that happen that I’ve never heard about before.”
Hoseok has to swallow thickly, his throat clicking, before he can speak again. “I looked everywhere, you know? Checked the ship's computer too, looking for…for life. And there was nothing.”
“And you’re sure he’s not…”
Yoongi can’t finish the thought, and Hoseok doesn’t let him, anyway. He looks up, right into Yoongi’s face, his own a little fierce as he shakes his head. “No, no he’s not. He’s disappeared but he isn’t…he isn’t gone.”
He knows it. He can’t explain how he knows it, but Hoseok does. It’s like a drum, beating out a constant rhythm on the inside of his heart, that Jungkook isn’t gone for good. That he’s somewhere, and Hoseok just has to find him. He will. He has to. In the wake of that moment, after the shock, he’d realised that he’d left too much unsaid. That they still had time, or should have.
“Alright,” Yoongi says calmly. It sounds like he believes him, and Hoseok lets out a soft sigh of relief.
He takes a long sip of his cha, lets the warmth settle within him. It’s a brief flare of heat, which will die down all too soon into the almost constant, aching cold that’s gnawed within him since. As if a piece of the icy nothingness of space has crawled inside his chest and won’t shake loose.
“So, if he’s disappeared, there must be a way to find him, right?”
Hoseok nods. “That’s where I’m stuck. I just… I don’t know enough. I don’t know what happened, so I don’t know where to start.”
“What about Calzadana?” Yoongi suggests. “The library there is the largest in the system. There must be something there that will point you in the right direction?”
He could almost kiss Yoongi for this. Hoseok has never felt more out of his depth, trying to traverse the universe on his own when he knows so little about it, and here is his first real step to take. He tries not to get his hopes up, but a library sounds like an excellent starting point.
“Thank you,” Hoseok says, overwhelmed.
Yoongi shrugs a shoulder and sips from his drink again.
Before Hoseok leaves that evening, Yoongi stops him, a gentle hand against Hoseok’s shoulder.
“Will you… will you let me know? If you find anything?”
Find him, he thinks Yoongi means.
Hoseok nods. He’d missed it earlier, too stuck in his own sense of loss and desperation, but Yoongi looks just as upset, just as concerned. He feels bad for not trying to comfort him too. He’s known Jungkook for far longer than Hoseok has, after all. As if Hoseok’s the only person in the universe who cares about him.
He can feel a warmth beginning behind his eyes but he smiles instead, trying to push it back down. “I will,” he promises.
Hoseok doesn’t remember much in the immediate aftermath, that first week a blur of time passing by. He’d been too deep into his own shock, into the confusion and the hurt and the sense of grief that had overwhelmed him. Unable to understand how in one moment Jungkook had been right there, talking excitedly with Hoseok, and in the space between breaths he’d been gone, blinked out of existence, not leaving a trace of himself behind, except for the ache left in Hoseok’s heart.
That look on Jungkook’s face, the shock, the confusion, just seconds before haunts Hoseok’s dreams still.
He remembers the time that follows in only flashes. Of searching every inch of space nearby for any sign, any trace, of Jungkook. Of flying the Euphoria back to Earth. Of holing himself up in his flat, staring blankly at the little star jar and the small blossoming flower beside it, his gifts from Jungkook.
He hadn’t cried though. Which was unusual, because this is exactly the kind of thing Hoseok would usually cry over. Would be sobbing away into Jungkook’s shoulder if this had been a drama or a holofilm they’d been watching together. He still hasn’t cried since, either, although he’s not sure what’s blocked the tears for now. Perhaps it’s that unknowable, but unshakeable sense that he has, that Jungkook’s out there somewhere, and Hoseok just has to look hard enough. He can’t cry, not while Jungkook’s out there.
He remembers talking to Namjoon. Remembers how his friend had come to him, concerned, and how Hoseok had cracked and told him everything, trying to explain it all. Remembered poor Namjoon’s bewildered expression, at everything Hoseok was telling him. Remembers how Namjoon had reached out to take Hoseok’s hand and told him to find Jungkook, that he had to try. That he believed Hoseok, not only about the outlandish tale it must have sounded to his ears, but that unquenchable belief that Jungkook was still somewhere.
He remembers too packing his bags again, the ones that hadn’t been unpacked for very long in the end. Picking up the two jars as well, the star and the flower, unable to bear leaving them there alone. Briefly remembers settling into the astral current again, and setting the course back towards the only system he knows.
“I’ll find you,” he’d whispered to the little star jar that he keeps within the cockpit with him now. “I promise.”
Hoseok’s eyes begin to skim over the words he’s reading. He’s been coming to the large library on Calzadana for days now, searching through as many data entries and files as he can. He’s had little luck so far, not even the whisper of a clue.
He’s been looking up the information and files himself now, on the datapad he’s assigned every morning upon his return. On the first day the robot assistants had been extremely eager to help, but all they had brought Hoseok in answer to his questions were folk tales and legends, nothing with any actual basis in reality.
Instead, since then he’s been searching himself through news portals, of stories about sudden disappearances, but only those that happen out in space. There are far, far too many stories across the myriad inhabited planets throughout the galaxy, and Hoseok doesn’t have it in him to feel so much for so many other people.
It’s enough, even with the filters he’s put in place. Most of what he’s found over the past few days hasn’t been useful. There’s just so many stories, so much data, to shift through. He’d even had to update his temp translation chip, coming across a few languages he’d been unable to read.
His brain pauses, stutters, stumbles, as his eyes skim over a word that draws him back into the moment. Zoning out wasn’t going to help him, or Jungkook.
‘And then she disappeared, just like that. Not a trace left behind.’
Hoseok closes his eyes for a moment, trying to remember the moment all over again. Trying not to get his hopes up. He’s right not to, because as he reads through the small news article on the datapad he discovers that there is no answer to the mystery, no resolution, no explanation.
It’s not going to end like that for him though. Jungkook isn’t just going to be something mentioned in the news. Isn’t simply going to exist as data in a file somewhere. He’s out there. Hoseok can feel it, with every fibre of his being. It’s as if there’s a string, tied tightly around Hoseok’s soul, pulling him onwards, leading him to keep searching.
Before he finishes his time at the library that day he does something he hadn’t wanted to do. But he needs to know more, needs to hear more, and he’s found nothing to go on so far. He turns to what are essentially forums, finds an active one for mysteries and disappearances and strange, unexplained phenomena. It seems even out here, in the depths of space, with all this science and technological advancement, there are still mysteries to be solved, and still people who will believe anything.
He writes out his own post before he can doubt himself too much. Tries to explain the situation as well as he can; it’s not a long story. He hits post before closing the datapad down, and signing out of the library for the day. He’ll come back tomorrow and see if his post has garnered any responses; he doesn’t expect any, and certainly nothing helpful, but he’s running out of ideas. Short of searching every corner of the known universe, he’s not sure what else he’s supposed to do.
Hoseok decides to visit a nice little place he’d discovered for a meal. The cha it serves is different, richer, with an extra hint of sweetness, and he hopes that and some food will help soothe the headache that’s built up behind his eyes.
✺
Its soul sings its joy out into the universe, hoping to offer some sense of comfort to the troubled lives beyond.
…beyond what?
Its song starts again, stronger.
☼
Hoseok is surprised to find several responses to his post. Not many, but that’s more than he’d expected. One he writes off straight away, someone talking about ‘the truth will be revealed’, without actually sharing what that truth is.
Most of the other responses are wellwishers, hoping he’ll find his answer, and his friend, again. One is a reply from someone who had a similar experience, but as Hoseok reads on he’s not sure that it’s actually any use either. This person states how they had had a dream where an ejito had spoken to them, assuring them that things would be okay. A week later, the person’s sister had shown up at home again.
But there’s still no explanation for the person’s disappearance or their return, and the unusual dream seems more unconscious and coincidence than related.
Curious, because it’s not a word that Hoseok’s heard before, he pulls up a reference for what an ejito is. He’s surprised to see that it’s a rabbit. Well, not exactly like the rabbits he’s familiar with back home, but it’s definitely rabbit-like. While its small body is a little more humanoid, there’s no mistaking the long, fluffy ears. It’s very cute.
It brings something to mind, but it’s hazy and distant, and Hoseok’s thoughts can’t catch it properly. Just on the edge of his mind, before the unformed thought trips away again. Seeing the rabbit-like creature has stirred something within Hoseok, but he can’t pinpoint what.
Grumpy and discouraged, he goes back to searching for any kind of information at all. He won’t give up. He can’t.
✺
Alongside peace, a new emotion begins to grow. Sometimes, it has memories. Rare and fleeting, amongst the unending turn of the stars, but it remembers someone. It remembers…. companionship. A presence, warm and welcoming, friendly. Kind.
It remembers, quite suddenly, that once it was not alone.
Its song starts again, a new note woven in between the old ones. Loneliness.
☼
Hoseok wakes with a start. It takes him several long, slow moments to slow his fast breathing and to figure out what woke him. There’s nothing coming from the console, nothing to alert him of any problems. Then he remembers that there shouldn’t be any problems, the ship has been docked since he came to Calzadana.
It’s dark around him, aside from the low lights on the cockpit console, and the little star he keeps in its jar nearby. His mind crawls backwards, trying to remember what woke him. A dream, maybe? Probably. That’s usually what wakes Hoseok in the night, and then he’s left to sit there, alone in the darkness, an ache in his chest where warmth used to live.
He sits up in the small, make-shift bed he’s made for himself on the cockpit floor, rubbing tiredly at his face. This seems to dislodge something from his brain, whatever he was trying to grasp before, and now it comes into sight.
It’s a whisper of a memory. ‘Did you know that they crop up all across the universe, stories and myths about them, across different planets and cultures? Not with the same names, of course, but the descriptions are all clearly very similar, and they always involve moons, and stars.’
Bunnies. Rabbits. Ejitos. Luppori. That’s what Jungkook had been talking about. The story about the dream ejito had tried to remind Hoseok of this earlier, but somehow, while sleeping, the memory seemed to have reawakened.
It had been an interesting thing to learn, a thought that had fascinated Hoseok at the time, the idea that such similar stories could span planets and galaxies like this, especially ones such as Earth, with no knowledge or contact with the greater universe.
But now it makes him wonder, really makes him wonder, why that is.
He sighs, knowing he won’t be able to sleep again tonight and decides to just get up. He tidies his little floor-bed up before stumbling out of the cockpit and into the bathroom.
Hoseok catches sight of himself in the mirror, after he undresses and heads for the shower. He looks tired, he can see. Tired and sad, his mouth turned downwards. He steps closer to the mirror, peering at his face. The small stars that freckle his cheeks are barely visible; they haven’t glowed since that day, weeks ago.
Hoseok brushes his fingers over them, remembering warmer fingertips, soft lips, brushing over them instead.
He drops his hand, sighing again, before stepping into the sonic shower. He’ll pull himself together, and he’ll see if Jungkook has any useful books here himself before heading to the library at a more reasonable hour.
It looks like his research is going to follow down a slightly different path. It seems highly unlikely that folk stories and legends will provide Hoseok with any answers, but, well, it’s not like actual experiences have yielded him any, either.
✺
Once that small memory is born, it makes room for others to slowly begin to grow also. Following behind that sense of companionship is one of laughter. Bright and loud, a sound it never should have heard before, but one that at once feels warm and familiar. Of soft words exchanged. Shared looks.
It isn’t until it remembers physical touch that a new feeling fills him completely. Worse than the loneliness, is the sadness, the sense of having lost something that it can’t understand it ever had before.
It’s always been here, for as long as it can remember, part of the universe unending. So how does it remember all of these things? How did it experience any of them? When all it’s ever known before now was peace and contentment.
Its song fades out as its soul aches for something it feels but cannot understand.
☼
Hoseok watches as one of the suns sets, draping the orange sky in soft shades of pinks. It’s a beautiful sight. Everything about Rayos Ascura is beautiful though. It’s a simple planet, many different types of farmlands scattered across the large landmasses, but its natural beauty is astounding.
Jungkook would like it here, Hoseok thinks. They hadn’t come here together. They hadn’t been able to visit the Granya system at all on their journey together. But Hoseok’s search for stories and legends is what’s led him here, to a small but beautiful planet right in the heart of this system.
He’d come to speak to a water farmer in particular, about a story he’d picked up elsewhere. He’s been trying to trace the ones that appear to have some roots in the truth. This farmer’s story was interesting, although he’s not truly sure how helpful it was to him.
Next to his slowly cooling plate of food sits his datapad, where his journaling has turned into notes, about all the stories he reads and hears. The farmer’s is there now, too. Hoseok’s mind wanders back over the tale. It had come from the farmer’s father, but the original story apparently happened several generations before, back when their town was yet a small village still.
The story of the merchant, as Hoseok had been told, is a popular and well known one within the area. But as a planet largely known and used for various agriculture, the story seems to have gotten lost along the way, pushed between bigger, more well-known legends that have been passed down the generations.
The story had first been told by the farmer’s great-great– Hoseok had actually lost count of how many ‘great’s there were supposed to be, actually– grandmother.
It started with a down on his luck merchant, who had one day been captivated by the beautiful face he’d seen in the moon when it was at its fullest. Over nights and nights, through stories wondrous and fantastical he told to the moon, eventually the merchant managed to entice the beautiful lady away from her home and down to Rayos Ascura. But his motives had not been well intentioned, and the merchant had tricked the lady, trapping her and bringing her back to his small home.
Hoseok’s heart had twisted when the farmer had recounted this, as fantastical as it had all sounded. The merchant had stolen three strands of the lady’s hair, to sell at the next market. And of course, her beautiful, moonbeam hair had fetched an incredible price, and of course, the merchant had begun to get greedy.
The lady was left for longer and longer periods on her own, locked inside the house, while the merchant went further astride to sell more and more of her hair. She would sing her sadness to the single, small window in the house, unable to see even a glimpse of her home when night fell, but missing it all the same.
One time, when the merchant was gone for nearly a week, the lady of the moon was finally granted succour - her friend, a rabbit-like creature, had found her, and broke through the door of the merchant’s home to set her free. Her soul-song had helped the rabbit find where she had been imprisoned, and together, with a starspun path from one of her many star-friends, the lady of the moon and the rabbit together ascended the heavens, back to her home that was the moon. The lady, heartsore, cried with her pain and her suffering, her tears falling to the earth in a deluge of bitter, unrelenting rain. But she was safe, and she was home, and she could tend to her aches with the comfort of her friends beside her.
And the merchant? He had gone further afield, with more strands of moonbeam hair than ever before, and made more money than he had ever done, enough that he could retire from trading, if he wished. His heart was as full as he made his way back home - full of greed and selfishness. The town and the route was new to him, one he didn’t know well, and the rain from the lady’s tears had caused the rivers to flood and the banks to burst. Loosened dirt and soil into treacherous mud. The merchant, and all his riches, fell into one of these dangerous mudslides, and with a short call to the heavens for aid, the swift-running river spirited him and all of his wares and his money away, never to be seen again.
Even now, just remembering the tale makes Hoseok shiver. So far, this legend is the darkest one that he’s come across. After, the farmer had told him that the lady of the moon and her rabbit companion could be seen in a constellation still, and Hoseok’s been waiting for darkness to shroud the world so he can see this for himself.
Another glance to the slowly darkening sky shows that he still has a while to wait. The second sun has yet to set, and the ringed-moon hasn’t awoken for its nightly trip across the sky.
He turns back to his meal, trying to finish it before it grows any cooler.
He’s not sure what he’s doing, honestly. Some days, Hoseok is full of hope and energy, ready to traverse the stars in search of his answers, certain that something will help set him on his course. And on other days he feels fruitless and unsure. Today is one of those days, despite the farmer and his story.
He’s heard many, many stories and folktales now. Most feel like children’s nursery stories, or fairy tales. But he has noticed common themes amongst them, exactly as Jungkook had said himself before. There is always some kind of rabbit-like animal within the story, and the stars always lead the affected party back to where they want to be.
Of course, it could all be fanciful. But most days, Hoseok can’t help but feel as if there’s something there, some root of truth buried amongst all the fanciful leaves and the colourful, made-up branches of stories.
He just wishes he could get the stars to lead him to Jungkook. But so far, for all the places he’s travelled within this one galaxy, he’s yet to find some moonbeam or starspun path to follow. It feels futile, honestly, when he gazes yet again upon the cold, unending expanse of space.
The universe is so impossibly large, and so many, so much, is scattered within its depths. And Hoseok’s limited to this small corner of it, because he doesn’t know the astral currents, isn’t confident with trying to travel to any other galaxies besides this one and his own. But with the universe as large as it is, Jungkook could be anywhere. How is Hoseok, small, simple, useless Hoseok, supposed to find him?
When night falls proper, and the stars wink out of the sky at the world below, Hoseok stands outside, the grass cool and damp beneath his feet. It takes him a while to find the constellation; he’s never been very good at fitting the tiny, bright pinpricks of stars into the shapes they supposedly resemble. But he looked up a reference earlier to try and help.
There, finally, Hoseok spots it. The long sweep of stars that are supposed to represent the lady’s flowing, moonbeam hair. The three, tiny glittering stars that represent her teardrops. And beside her, her beloved companion, a set of stars marking out the rabbit’s two long ears.
His heart pounds, his throat thick suddenly. He’s not sure what came first, the story to describe the stars, or the stars to fit in with the story. Is this how all tales come into being? Or is there a sliver of truth hidden behind it all?
Hoseok has no idea. And though he feels something, he also feels like he’s never been so far from his goal before. So far from finding Jungkook.
✺
The memories come upon it in waves. In a tide, ebbing and flowing. Many at once, and then none. They all seem a jumble, out of order, no context to be made from them. But over and over, it sees the same person within these memories. Hears the same voice. Almost remembers the same soft, tender touch of slim hands and gentle lips. Dark eyes, always watching with quiet care. That mouth, that makes a variety of interesting shapes and sounds. Big and bright, small and down-turned. A thin little line, creases in the cheeks.
And words, it remembers words now. Spoken to it? Spoken by it?
“Do you think the stars might like me, then?”
“I did catch you…”
“You did that for me?”
“You’re here now.” “I’m here now.”
“You can’t break my heart, okay? I don’t want to get my heart broken.” “I won’t.”
Along with one memory, another new emotion wells up within it. Fear, uncertainty. Its own voice, calling out a warning. And with that memory, comes a name.
“Hoseok, look out!”
Hoseok? Is that the voice it hears? The face it continues to see?
Yes.
Yes, now it remembers. Its soul sings out with an unending sense of joy at the memory of Hoseok. Of warmth and love, of companionship. Of friendship. Hoseok, its friend. Hoseok, who…
Hoseok, who is alone now. Hoseok, who is not like it. Hoseok, who it left behind, somehow. It feels like the knowledge is there, just out of sight, hidden around the darkened side of the moon, no light to bring it into being.
Its soul sings louder, calling out for Hoseok, for all the missed companionship.
Its song doesn’t bring Hoseok, however. But eventually, it does bring something.
It doesn’t have a word for what this something is, although it feels like this might be another memory, trapped beneath the others. A small creature, white of fur, two long ears atop its head. It watches, assessing, before it reaches out with a song of its own.
A song of wonder, of curiosity, of comfort. It had heard the sadness in its own song, and had come to see. Friend? it thought.
Friend, the creature answered.
Can you find Hoseok? It pours all of its memories, all of its thoughts, into its song for the creature. It can’t move from where it hangs, suspended in the sky. Where it has always hung, and where it will always hang, revolving through the galaxy with the rest. But the creature appeared, and perhaps, the creature can help it find its missing Hoseok.
☼
He can hear Jungkook’s voice, calling him. It reminds Hoseok of the times he’s heard Jungkook sing. Singing sad love songs to him while they were laughing together in a karaoke room. Humming made up words as he focuses on a task. Crooning sweet, silly words to Hoseok in the light of his joy.
Except this sound is distant, as if Jungkook’s calling to him from another room.
“I’m coming!” Hoseok calls out, standing from where he sat. But this isn’t the Euphoria as he remembers it, the ship is so small, there aren’t many rooms, and yet Hoseok can’t find Jungkook. Jungkook keeps calling out to him, and Hoseok keeps calling back, steps unending as he keeps searching, searching. He breaks out into a run, the hallway never ending, the mural they’d painted together on the wall blurring into just splashes of colour as Hoseok picks up speed.
“Jungkook!” Hoseok cries out.
“Hoseok.”
Jungkook’s voice sounds faint, feels distant, and Hoseok’s stomach drops. He can’t keep up. Wherever Jungkook is, he’s moving too fast for Hoseok to keep up with. But he can’t stop, he can’t stop running.
“I’m coming, Kook!” He cries out, breaths ragged, his heart slamming into his chest with every slap of his feet against the floor. “Wait for me!”
Jungkook’s cries fade into a whisper, until there’s nothing left for Hoseok to grasp onto. He stops, chest heaving, and hates himself for it. He can’t stop, but he can’t breathe. He has to catch up, Jungkook’s waiting for him to catch up and find him. Hoseok has to find him.
Between the tears he didn’t realise he was crying, Hoseok suddenly notices a small, rabbit-like figure sitting on the floor. It watches him with careful eyes. Its fur is so white it almost glows.
“Bunny?” Hoseok asks, curious and confused. “Do you know where Jungkook is? Can you help me find him?”
The rabbit’s nose twitches, its ears flicking, before it turns. Hoseok’s about to call out again when the rabbit begins to hop down the hallway. Something glitters on the floor, drawing Hoseok’s attention for a moment. A tiny mote of stardust, he thinks. Then he realises that there are more. That with every hop the bunny makes, it leaves little stardust prints across the floor.
Hoseok gapes for a moment before his legs start working, and he runs again. But the rabbit is surprisingly quick, and soon it’s also lost to Hoseok’s sight. But he follows the glittering stardust trail that it leaves behind for him.
“I’m coming, Jungkook,” Hoseok whispers raggedly, running with all he has. “I’m coming.”
Hoseok’s tired eyes try to take in his notes for the latest story that he’d found. This one is about an orphaned Rhoyvian boy who had always felt like he never fit in. Even when he was grown and had left the orphanage to lead his own life, the only friends he had ever had was a little bird, and his enjito doll, both of whom followed him from the orphanage and into his new life. At night, when the moon was full, the boy would hear what sounded like a song, full of an aching longing and unending sadness.
It isn’t a long story, and this one is much less sad than the one about the poor lady of the moon. Because in this one, it turns out that the song comes from the boy’s mother, a star in search for her lost child, who had been knocked from the sky where they resided and fallen beyond her sight.
But the star-mother finds her son, the lonely boy, and together, with the rabbit-doll and the boy’s bird friend, they all ascended to the sky together. Their joy was so much that they shone, brighter than ever before, from where they hung in the sky, reunited at last.
Again, Hoseok thinks, with the bunny and the stars that make paths into the sky. He feels like there’s something within it, something that the fingers of his tired mind can’t quite grasp, just out of reach…
A loud beeping sound from the navcomputer startles Hoseok, has his datapad of notes fall to the floor. “Shit,” he mumbles, scooping the pad up and setting it aside, before turning towards the monitor.
He stares at it for a moment, confused. The alert had been for something passing in the area, but when Hoseok looks, with both his eyes out into space, and at the broader view on the monitor, he sees nothing. No stars nearby, no asteroids or other cosmic debris. Certainly no other starships, either. Nothing.
“Huh, that’s strange.”
He takes a more thorough look, pulling up all the information that covers every blindspot of the Euphoria. Nothing. There’s nothing out there.
He shrugs to himself before settling back into the pilot's seat.
He must be tired, he thinks, because eventually he starts to believe that he’s seeing things. The stars making a pattern he’s never seen them make before. It almost appears to be some kind of path. Hoseok’s passed through this part of the galaxy before though, and he doesn’t remember the stars aligning like that.
He blinks, rubbing at his eyes, but when he looks again the star-shaped path is still there, hovering in the distance before him. He checks the monitor, but the stars don’t show up there, and that, that’s very strange too. All celestial bodies are picked up by the navcomputer, but the Euphoria’s is especially sensitive to them, he remembers Jungkook telling him about how he’d tinkered around with the computer to ensure that was the case.
‘I’m a starhunter, I need to be able to find all the stars after all!’
Ships sensing celestial objects was important, too, besides that, from the biggest of planets, to the smallest motes of space-dust, because even small objects could affect a ship or its trajectory.
But no matter how hard Hoseok looks at the monitor, no matter what small settings he adjusts, there’s no sign of these particular stars on it. Other, distant, objects still register. The closest planet is listed there, and the bigger stars that revolve around it. But not this strange, little path that he sees.
He dismisses it, thinking that it’s pretty but meaningless as he settles back in his seat, the ship following his plotted course for it. There’s a story about a missing dancer that he’d come across, in one of the forum posts, and he’s hoping to find out more details. The dancer had returned, after disappearing in the middle of space, and it’s the closest he’s been to an answer. It was many years ago now, so only one of the dancer’s children is around to give any further information, but it’s the only shot Hoseok has, so he has to shoot for it.
It isn’t until he passes three more of the strange, starry-shaped paths that Hoseok really pauses to think about them. Because each one he had passed had been new, the shapes slightly different. Almost as if… as if they were trying to point somewhere? Some place behind Hoseok’s current trajectory?
A memory rises within him then, vivid and unbidden. His dream, the one about the white-furred rabbit, who had tried to, what, lead Hoseok back to Jungkook? He remembers the small traces of stardust it had left in its wake, a glittering trail for Hoseok to follow.
But it’s just a dream. Just a dream, he tells himself.
Hoseok dreams about it again, however. When he dozes off in the cockpit, tired from all his searching, from all his aching loneliness. The rabbit again, and Jungkook’s fading voice. The rabbit seems more insistent this time, however, the stardust it leaves behind bigger, more obvious. Hoseok feels almost as if he’s being admonished. See this now, dummy?
He wakes with a jerk, and when he looks out of the windows again he sees another of those starry paths, seeming to want to lead him back.
He halts the ship where it is. Gives his slowly waking brain a moment to try and catch up.
He feels stupid and foolish even considering it. Yes, Hoseok’s been following folktales and fairy stories and all manner of other fantastical accounts for some time now. But he’s been following those in the search of what truths and clues might be hidden behind the more made-up elements. He’s still been searching for an explanation, for reasons and answers.
But he’s starting to wonder if it isn’t working, because he’s looking for facts, and logic, and reason, where there might be none.
He likes facts, and logic, and reason. They let Hoseok know where he stands. Give him a solid sense of the world around him. Leaving those behind feels like taking a leap, a leap he isn’t sure he has it in him to take.
But then… but then, hadn’t stepping foot on the Euphoria with Jungkook in the first place been a leap? A leap towards big, bold things that Hoseok hadn’t known about.
And if it will help him find Jungkook, doesn’t he have to try?
His heart aches whenever he thinks of Jungkook, lost and alone. Jungkook where Hoseok can’t see him, can’t talk to him, can’t cup his face between his hands and kiss his nose. Can’t tell him how amazing he is, how wonderful everything Jungkook does is. Can’t tell Jungkook how much Hoseok misses him, and wants him back.
He turns the ship around, sets it to follow the direction of the starry-path that still waits for him, twinkling in the sky.
Still, these stars don’t show up on the monitor, which means Hoseok can’t plot a course and let the ship follow of its own accord. He has to pilot this himself.
That’s okay, though. Suddenly, there’s life thrumming through his veins again, hot and glowing, waking him up. There’s still a corner of his mind that feels foolish, as if he’s chasing a dream, and not real answers.
But the star-lit path continues before him, leading Hoseok on, and he can only hope that at the end, he’ll finally find Jungkook.
✺
“It’s beautiful,” Hoseok’s memory-voice whispers. “You’re amazing, Jungkook.”
Jungkook.
Jungkook?
Who was Hoseok speaking to? Was that itself? Was it…
That name is the key, and with its unlocking, the last of the memories rush in, filling in all the spaces that they had occupied before.
Jungkook. It’s Jungkook.
He’s Jungkook.
He doesn’t understand how, though. Because Jungkook is a man, and he is, decidedly not. He is everything, and he is nothing. He is the breath of the stars. He is the cosmic dust that dances upon starbeams. He is the rings of the moon. Motes of asteroid dust as they float endlessly through space.
He is all of it in one, unending moment of time.
And he is Jungkook.
Jungkook, a man who misses his friend. His love.
Hoseok.
The pain is immutable. Now that he knows, now that he remembers, he can’t hold it back. He doesn’t understand. Nothing is the same. Everything is always the same. He relives their briefly unending time together, fresh, as if they’re taking place right now. He remembers as if it happened aeons ago, in the distant past.
Hoseok. He must find Hoseok. He feels like there are things he was supposed to tell him, to say to him, that somehow got lost along the way. He hopes the little creature can find Hoseok for him.
‘I’ve got you.’
It is both a memory of his own words, and the song that his soul sings out into the universe. Hoping, waiting, wanting.
☼
Hoseok stares out the cockpit windows and into space. He still sees nothing, however. Even though he’s been sitting here, looking out for who-knows-how-long now. Because all he can see is one lone star nearby and the pinpricks of all the distant stars and planets. And yet, this is exactly where the starry path had led him.
But there isn’t anything here, and certainly not Jungkook.
Maybe he’s overtired. He’d had to stay awake to navigate his way through space, following the trail. He can feel the exhaustion creeping heavily over his shoulders.
He’d felt so certain though, that these things were connecting. The rabbit in his dreams, the starlit path, the sense that Jungkook is out there, somewhere, waiting for him. But maybe, in the end, it had just been some kind of cosmic weather, something Hoseok knew little about still.
Hoseok stays there, keeping the Euphoria suspended just where it is. Not ready to leave, yet, just in case. Doesn’t know where he would go, anyway, because he’d put so much hope into this chase.
He thought he’d read the clues right. After all the stories he’s collected, and the tales he’s heard, they all share the common themes that he’s traced right to this moment. Stars lighting the way, and the rabbit-like creatures. Hoseok had followed both, certain that Jungkook would be at the other end. But he isn’t, there’s nothing here.
He starts to drift off, his eyelids drooping heavily with sleep. Slowly, he realises that he can hear something. A song? No, he isn’t hearing it, not with his ears. It reminds him a little of that strange band, in that bar, the one that could be heard telepathically. Hoseok must be tired, or half-asleep, because he’s starting to think he’s feeling the song rather than hearing it.
And yet, something about it feels familiar. Feels like longing. It echoes the feelings in his own heart.
A memory bubbles up within him, words Jungkook had said, and it feels like a long time ago now, although it wasn’t, not really.
‘But some stars… they have a soul? Or the potential for one? And those stars, I don’t know, they sing?’
Hoseok blinks his eyes open wide, jerking in his seat. Coldness slips down the back of his neck as he stands and walks slowly towards the windows.
He doesn’t want to even think it into existence, but already he feels hopelessness edging its way inside of him. Filling up all the little gaps and creases, all the spaces he’d tried to shore up with hope and optimism.
Sorrow overwhelms him as Hoseok stares out at the single star in the sky.
‘So I have to listen first, and make sure a star is just a star.’
✺
I cannot see him, Jungkook thinks to the small, white creature that had returned to him. Bunny, he thinks he remembers the word being. It’s important to him, this bunny. Means something to him, that he’s lost somewhere along the way. Within the cracks of time and space and memory.
But this bunny is his friend, and it brought Hoseok to him. In a way.
He is in that ship, the bunny answers.
Jungkook’s core flares with sadness. So close, and yet this is a gap he cannot breach. So near, but not near enough. He cannot touch Hoseok, can’t talk to him, feel him. Cannot touch Hoseok’s face, and kiss his hair. Can’t feel their hearts steadying rhythm together, or Hoseok’s lips against his skin. Cannot tangle their fingers together and hold on tight, as if they are the only two in the whole world. Can’t cant can’t.
It hurts. Makes Jungkook wish that he could scream, and cry, and fight. Emotions overwhelm him. Emotions he had been unaware of even existing, before he’d remembered who he was, and what he’s lost.
Despair. Loneliness. it aches within him. He hasn’t felt this from the moment Hoseok had stepped into his life.
‘Isn’t that kind of lonely, then?’
Hoseok had been right. And now Jungkook feels it acutely, everywhere, coating every inch of his strange, eternal existence.
I need to see him, he tells the bunny. I need to touch him. This isn’t… this isn’t enough!
He isn’t a person, so he cannot cry. And yet, Jungkook does. Tiny stars cascade from him, spiralling through space. Hoseok’s here, he’s right here and Jungkook can’t touch him, cannot even speak to him, and it hurts.
My friend, the bunny speaks to him softly, a sense of calm emanating from it, trying to soothe the cascade of starry-tears that continue to fall from Jungkook. Do you see that planet down there?
Jungkook tries to focus himself on what the bunny is talking about, and after several moments, yes, he sees the planet. There’s a tug of familiarity, but then, if he has been here for an eternity, every inch of the space around him is more than familiar to him by now.
Fall down to that planet.
What? Jungkook asks, confused.
Fall, and I will guide your Hoseok down to it.
Jungkook does not even take a moment to think about it. Or perhaps he does, perhaps he takes many long, long moments. Time is nothing to him, after all.
He’s not sure how to make himself fall. He’s never done it before. Of course he hasn’t, because he’s been hanging right here, in this spot, for as long as he can remember.
…Except, he hasn’t really, has he? Because he has memories, physical memories, with Hoseok. And of life before Hoseok. Of…of Yoongi, and his trading unit. Of Seokjin, taking shy, child Jungkook under his wing and looking out for him. Of sharing his experiences with Jimin. Of learning to pilot, and his first flight into space, manned by himself. He remembers too that first meeting with Hoseok, seeing his bright, friendly smile. Meeting him again, and again, and eventually becoming friends. Remembers also their first kiss. The first time they touched each other and sparks flew, fire igniting within the core of Jungkook’s being.
He cannot have always been this, if once he was all of that.
So he turns his attention to that planet, notes how vibrant it looks from here. Thinks to himself, oh, Hoseok would like that, before he pours every ounce of his being towards that planet.
And Jungkook falls.
☼
Hoseok watches, breathless and confused, as tiny sparkles of light fall from the star, cascading down into space before glittering out of sight. He presses a hand to the window.
“Jungkook?”
The star flares brightly for a moment and Hoseok has to squint his eyes shut.
It seems impossible. It makes no sense. And yet, that string that’s been tugging him forward, the stars and the rabbit and all the stories that have been leading him on, have all seemed to lead him here.
He doesn’t understand, though. Is Jungkook like one of the people from the folk tales he’d read? Had he always belonged up there, in the sky, shining down upon the worlds?
As Hoseok’s trying to wrap his stumbling thoughts around it all, it changes suddenly. He gasps, watching as the star moves– no, as it drops. His heart plummets alongside, his hand pressed tight up against the window. A shaky breath leaves him when he sees that the star is falling towards the planet below.
He’s so busy gaping in wonder, in horror, at the falling star, that it takes Hoseok a moment to realise that the stardust trail is back, and… he blinks, rubbing at his tired eyes with one hand. The rabbit? Outside of his dreams? The rabbit twitches its ears at Hoseok, before following the falling star's path, stardust dazzling in its wake.
He stumbles back over to the pilots chair, almost tripping in his haste to get himself buckled in. And then Hoseok flies the Euphoria like he never has before, closely following both the rabbit and the trail of stardust, down, down to the planet.
The star has fallen fast, and just as Hoseok enters the atmosphere, it winks out of sight. But the trail is still there, and Hoseok follows this down. He ends up landing in a meadow, tall, lush orange grass swaying beneath the engines of the starship. Hoseok’s patience is drawn tight as he waits for the air pressure to stabilise, and the airlock to open and release him out onto the planet.
It’s not a moment too soon before he can finally stumble his way out onto the planet proper, his heart racing in his chest as if it’s trying to escape.
He takes a heaving breath, and briefly thinks to himself how stupid it was, not to check the atmosphere first. But then he pauses, finally taking in note of his surroundings. Of the vivid, orange grass, and the soft yellow sky. Of the line of trees he can see beyond this meadow, their leaves a vibrant scattering of reds and oranges, darker purples and pale pinks. He’s been here before. Can hear the sound of a stream rushing nearby. Birds call, over in those trees. Even the air smells sweet, just like he remembers.
Ea.
His memories of their time spent together here urges Hoseok onwards, searching now for the fallen star. For… for Jungkook.
The rabbit is there, sitting amongst the long-stemmed grass. Its white fur glows with starlight, dazzling and beautiful.
“Is he here?” Hoseok asks, breathless. “The star…Jungkook, is he here? Please…”
The rabbit hops forward, and Hoseok, hopelessly, follows behind. It’s not long before they stumble across a large patch of flattened grass, and in the centre lies the fallen star. It still glows.
Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat. His heart falls. He didn’t bring anything with him! No net, no jars. He can’t touch the star.
He’s here, and he’s so close, and yet he’s never been further away.
Hoseok drops to his knees, staring down at the star, and finally, the tears come.
They wash over him, his sadness, his hopelessness, following in their wake. Before, every single space within him had been filled with Jungkook, with all the joy and the love and the happiness that he’d brought Hoseok. He hasn’t realised, until this moment, just how empty he’s felt in that absence.
“I’m sorry,” Hoseok gasps out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to do. And I should have… should have told you sooner. All the things, all the things I wanted to say to you, because there’s…there’s so much…”
He sucks in a heaving breath of air, the lump that had been in his throat before finally dissolving.
“You were going to leave, and I should have told you but I couldn’t, and I’m sorry, because you deserved to kn-know how much you mean to me.”
He wipes uselessly at his eyes before continuing, his gaze never leaving the small, glittering star that holds Jungkook’s soul within. He doesn’t know if Jungkook can hear him, or understand him, but Hoseok has to tell him anyway, and so he does.
Hoseok talks, tells Jungkook all the things he thinks about him, all the ways he feels for him. How pretty Jungkook is, how much he likes playing with Jungkook’s long, soft hair, how much Hoseok loves his tattoos. As he talks, the little rabbit jumps into Hoseok’s arms, as if trying to offer him some semblance of comfort.
Hoseok tells the star about Jungkook’s beautiful smile, the way his nose scrunches when he laughs, about his big, pretty eyes and how they shine with all the light of the galaxy. He tells the star about how good Jungkook makes him feel, how kind and sweet he is, the ways he makes Hoseok laugh. How safe he makes Hoseok feel, how comfortable. How much he’s changed Hoseok's life, shown him endless wonders across the worlds. How full his life, and his heart, and his soul has felt, while he’s been by Jungkook’s side.
“I want to have more adventures with you.” Hoseok sniffles the words into the rabbit’s warm fur, hugging it close as these waves of emotion continue to roll through him. “I want to…I want to live a whole life with you. I–I love you, Jungkook.”
The rabbit moves in his arms and Hoseok feels a soft warmth against his face, and it almost feels like when Jungkook brushes his fingers against Hoseok’s cheek in comfort. But there’s the tickle of fur, and whiskers, and it isn’t Jungkook, it isn’t, but it almost feels like it is…
“I miss you, Jungkook. I miss you, please. Come back to me. Can you come back? I miss you…”
The stars on Hoseok’s cheeks, that hadn’t glowed since Jungkook had disappeared, begin now to glow again. Brighter and brighter. Glowing more than even the first time they had when they’d settled across Hoseok’s cheeks in a constellation of freckles. They glow so bright, until Hoseok has to close his eyes, and even then the light burns through his eyelids, dazzling him until he sees nothing.
✺
He’s so close, Jungkook says to the bunny. He’s so near. I have to touch him. I can’t talk to him. I need to talk to him.
Every word, every feeling, every tear, has shaken Jungkook to the core. Makes him want to pull Hoseok close and hold him tight. Whisper words of comfort into his hair. Brush all his pains away with his fingertips.
I broke his heart. I promised I wouldn’t, and I broke his heart. There has to be something that I can do? Please, please, he begs, putting everything he has within him into the words. I have to tell him. I love him, I love him.
Please, can’t you help us?
You may take my place, the bunny tells him. Jungkook doesn’t understand, but before he can ask, light begins to glow around them. Even to a star such as himself, the light is dazzling, brighter than any he’s seen before. He doesn’t know if it’s coming from him, or the bunny’s starlit fur, or even the freckles on Hoseok’s cheeks, the ones he remembers touching, with his fingertips, with his lips…
The light envelopes them all. For a moment, Jungkook feels warmth, feels skin tickling against fur. Feels dampness trickle down on top of his head.
And then the light fades, and Jungkook finds himself in the grass, naked, an awkward pile of limbs he’s forgotten how to use. He gasps, and it makes a sound, an actual sound.
“H-hoseok?” His words come out a slow creak, but it’s him, those words are coming from him.
His hand trembles as he reaches forward, a faint glow still lit beneath his skin, fading slowly. Hoseok’s head snaps up, his eyes widening with shock.
“Jungkook?”
Hoseok looks on in disbelief, and Jungkook doesn’t blame him. He lifts his arm, gently cupping Hoseok’s cheek in his shaking palm. He feels the damp trail of Hoseok’s tears against his skin, mingled with the warmth from the tiny stars that still shine there.
“You’re here,” Jungkook creaks out. “You’re here. Oh skies, Hoseok.”
Words fail him then, fail both of them as they surge forward, coming together in a hold so tight that Jungkook doesn’t know where he ends and where Hoseok begins. For a moment, he feels even more endless than he did when he was in the sky. Even then, he had never felt the kind of joy that sprawls through him now, that fills every corner of his heart, every inch of his soul, every fibre of his blessedly physical being.
He holds Hoseok close, tightly in his arms, in the way that he’s been aching to for what feels like aeons. And they just grasp onto each other. Jungkook thinks he’s crying, thinks Hoseok is crying again too.
Slowly, they pull away from each other, but just enough to be able to stare into each other’s faces. Hoseok looks at him as if Jungkook might vanish again, and Jungkook doesn’t blame him. So he reaches up again with one hand, brushes his fingers over Hoseok’s face, through his hair, tries to dry the tears from his cheeks. Wants to make it as clear as he can, that Jungkook is real and he’s right here, he’s here, and he doesn’t plan on going anywhere ever again.
“You’re real, right?” Hoseok’s words shake their way from between his teeth, and Jungkook wants to clutch at them with his fingers. He brushes his hand through Hoseok’s hair. Presses their foreheads together, their breath mingling. “You’re real, and you’re…you’re really here?”
Jungkook nods his head gently. “I’m here.”
It still feels strange, kind of awkward, settling back into a physical body. It feels both like an eternity since he had, and like no time at all. Taking breaths is strange, all deep and uneven and shuddery. But Hoseok here, wrapped tightly in one of his arms, their faces touching, that feels right, feels good, as if it was always supposed to be.
“I’m here, Hoseok. I’m here.” The words shake their way out of Jungkook, and from them, more follow, spilling between his lips. Shaky and hoarse at first, but growing the more he speaks.
“You’re amazing, you know? Skies, but I love you so much. I’m so…so proud of you, Hoseok.” He hears Hoseok’s hiccuping little sob, feels the sound of it burrow its way down into his heart. “You’re so brave, fighting for me and coming to find me. Saving me…”
All the words he hadn’t said, but should have said, pour from him now. He watches Hoseok’s face crumple as Jungkook tells him, over and over again, how much he means to him. How incredible he thinks Hoseok is, how wonderful, how much he missed him. They sit there, on the crushed orange grass, beneath the yellow sky, staring into each other’s faces as they clutch at each other tightly.
“You’re my home, Hoseok.” Jungkook presses trembling lips to Hoseok’s warm cheek. “My home, and I never want to leave your side again.”
“Good. Because you can’t. You can’t–” he chokes back on his words, but Jungkook’s here, he’s right here, ready to try and comfort Hoseok, comfort them both, and to start trying to kiss away their pain.
“Never again,” Jungkook whispers against Hoseok’s lips. “Never. I love you.”
“I love you,” Hoseok gasps back, and then their words subside as they just touch, and kiss, and reassure each other that they’re here, they’re real, and they are here. And despite Jungkook’s nakedness, there isn’t anything sexual about it, it’s comfort and it’s intimacy and it’s love. It’s wonder, too, at having each other back, at sharing all these feelings out loud, finally, and seeing how these colour their perceptions of each other now.
Hoseok, Jungkook thinks, has never glowed so brightly as he does right now. Even with his red eyes and tear stained cheeks, he’s luminous.
His fingers find the earrings that he’d made for Hoseok, the gleaming little suns that dangle from his ears.
“My sunshine,” Jungkook whispers into Hoseok’s hair, pulling him close, nudging his nose against Hoseok’s cheek and nuzzling into him. Falling into the endless warmth of Hoseok’s love, so bright that it shines out from his face.
There’s no knowing how much time passes, but eventually they separate, just enough to be able to stand up. But Hoseok’s hand immediately finds Jungkook’s, and Jungkook squeezes back. Says I’m still here with his touch.
Hoseok stares down into the crushed grass, a sound of surprise leaving him. Then he laughs, a soft, watery sound. “Well, of course the star is gone,” he mumbles to himself. He looks back and forth then, as if searching for something. “But… where’s the rabbit?”
Jungkook’s brain works slowly, like each thought is trying to walk through syrup as he tries to catch up. A warm shiver works its way through him. “It’s not gone,” he says. Hoseok turns to look at him, eyes wide. “Not really.”
He doesn’t know how to explain it, if he even can explain it, it’s all mixed up inside his head, where he didn’t need words because he was just a part of the universe. But Hoseok relaxes after a moment, his shoulders dropping. He leans in to press a soft, tender kiss to Jungkook’s lips.
“Come on, love, “ he says, tugging gently on Jungkook’s hand. “Let’s get you home. And dressed.”
Jungkook hasn’t even noticed, only peripherally, because it’s been the least important part of everything else. It still is. Part of him still feels like it’s trying to settle back into this body that was his, after not having a body at all. He’d been all soul, all feeling, all song and light, while he’d been changed. He doesn’t necessarily feel less now, though. Because he isn’t alone anymore. Because he can touch, and hold, and talk to Hoseok. Doesn’t have to ache and wish and want from a distance. It’s all he ever could have wanted.
What a fool he was, he thinks. He’d been prepared to leave Hoseok, and he can’t understand how, or why. That last night they had spent together, whispering everything but the important words into each other’s skin. As if he could have lived without Hoseok by his side.
He aches though, when he realises that that’s how it had felt. Like a lifetime alone, hanging in the sky, without Hoseok.
He squeezes Hoseok’s fingers tightly, and Hoseok smiles at him. Carefully, they pick their way through the meadow, back towards the ship.
Before they board, Jungkook looks up at the sky. The stars aren’t visible in the bright daylight, but Jungkook, as always, can feel them out there. Can feel them even more sharply than before, honestly. And there’s one in particular, a familiar, comforting song that he feels in his soul. Thank you, he thinks, wishing it out into the world. Thank you, my friend.
☼
There’s a lot for them to talk about, and they do, later. But first, once they’re back onboard the ship, they focus on other things. Getting Jungkook cleaned up and fed. Hoseok doesn’t leave his side. Jungkook makes a joke at some point, in the cramped sonic shower, about how it’s been an age since he had a shower. Except when Hoseok looks at him, sees the serious expression on his face, he gets the feeling that it’s not a joke. And yes, Jungkook was gone for some time, but not as long as he seems to be implying. A thought for later.
Even when they’re both comfortable in the bedroom together, some precious hot water and powder used for a cup of cha each, the talking waits. Because they can’t stop looking at each other. Can’t stop simply touching each other.
Jungkook keeps touching Hoseok’s face, as if he’s trying to map every corner, every crease and every mark, with his fingertips. His fingers brush over Hoseok’s cheeks. He thumbs gently along Hoseok’s lips. Brushes his hand back through Hoseok’s hair, unable to tear his eyes away from Hoseok’s face. Jungkook looks like a man parched, and Hoseok is his saving refreshment.
No one’s ever looked at Hoseok like that before.
His own hands can’t keep still, either. Draws his palms over Jungkook’s shoulders. Brushes his hands across Jungkook’s back and arms. Runs a finger across the tiny scar on Jungkook’s cheek. Strokes his fingers through Jungkook’s long, dark hair, unadorned by any of his shining accessories right now, hanging loose and pretty around his face.
Always so pretty though. So beautiful.
They reaquaint themselves with each other, first by sight, and touch. And then easing their way into gentle, tender kisses.
Eventually, before the cha can cool too much, they talk. Hoseok starts, because when he asks Jungkook, there’s a haunted look in his eyes, and Hoseok doesn’t want to push. But he can do this. With one of Jungkook’s hands clutched tightly between both of his own, Hoseok tries to unravel his own accounts.
“So, I went to the only place I could think of first,” he says, after skimming over the immediate aftermath. “I went to see Yoongi, and he–oh,” Hoseok cuts himself off, his eyes widening as he remembers something. “Oh, we have to, we have to go see Yoongi. He wanted… he asked me to update him. About you.”
Jungkook looks surprised. “He…he did?”
Hoseok nods, his face softening. “I think he was really worried about you, when I told him what happened.”
“Oh…” there’s a look of wonder on Jungkook’s face. A soft flush of colour across his cheeks. “Okay, we’ll… we’ll make sure to see him, then.”
Hoseok nods. Then gently, he adds, “Maybe, we could also… stop by and see your other friends? Seokjin, and Jimin? I’m sure they’d like to see you.”
Jungkook looks far away for a moment. He’s been doing this since they got back to the ship, Hoseok’s noticed. Sort of… drifting away, someplace else. He strokes his thumb lightly over Jungkook’s knuckles, and Jungkook blinks, coming back to himself. Back to Hoseok.
“Yes,” he answers, giving Hoseok a soft smile. “That would be nice.” Jungkook takes a sip of his cha and that seems to settle him further. “Wait, you said ‘we’?”
Hoseok nods, looking at Jungkook as if it’s obvious, because it is, of course it is. “I’m never leaving your side again, remember?”
Jungkook chokes out a soft half-laugh, half-sob. There’s enough presence of mind to set his mug down before he surges forward, pulling Hoseok into a tight hug. Hoseok’s fingers grip tightly at Jungkook’s shirt, happy to let himself be held within the strong, comforting hold of Jungkook’s arms. Where he belongs, he thinks.
“I meant it, when I said I wanted a life with you,” he says, words whispered against Jungkook’s steadily beating heart. Hoseok could feel it, he was sure, beneath the press of his cheek.
He feels a gentle kiss laid against the top of his head.
“I heard you,” Jungkook whispers back. “I know.”
Oh. Hoseok had wondered about that. About the fallen star, the rabbit, the feelings that had spilled themselves from his heart.
“What happened?”
He feels Jungkook tense, just for a moment. A deep, shuddering sigh shakes out of him.
“It’s okay, love,” Hoseok hurries to add, his palms trying to soothe and comfort as they rub against Jungkook’s back. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
Jungkook’s voice quakes when he next speaks, and Hoseok worries that he’s crying. His hands continue to try and soothe him. “I’ll tell you one day. When I can…when I can make sense of it all.”
Hoseok sniffles, nodding his head against Jungkook’s chest. “Okay.”
They share a few more reassuring kisses, trying to wind their emotions back in, and eventually their talking resumes. Their cha has long since been drunk by now, the mugs cool, but still they sit cuddled close together, neither eager to leave the other’s space even the merest inch.
Hoseok tells Jungkook about his journey, about the library on Calzadana, about his search for similar experiences and stories, and how that eventually led him to the folk tales, the legends about rabbits, and stars, and people being displaced.
“I even found the story about the Crying Luppori,” he tells Jungkook, and Jungkook looks at him in wonder and awe. It’s enough to make Hoseok’s cheeks go pink. He must look a sight, he thinks, with the glowing stars still freckling his skin.
“You did?”
Hoseok nods, a small smile on his face.
Jungkook leans in, pressing a soft kiss to where one of his dimples must be showing. It only serves to make Hoseok’s smile widen, the dimples disappearing.
“You did all that, for me?”
“Of course.” Hoseok reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from Jungkook’s face, tucking it gently behind his ear. “I love you.”
“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook says, smiling so wide. “I love you too.”
Their touches, and their kisses, slowly grow from soft and gentle, to intimate and tender. Gently easing each other’s clothes off, kissing every inch of skin that’s revealed. Reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies by touch, by sight, with kisses.
It’s a slow build, a slow burn between them, when eventually they come together. Jungkook looks impossibly beautiful beneath him like this, dark hair spread out across the bed, his big, glittering eyes never leaving Hoseok’s own. Each touch and kiss pulling soft, syrupy sounds from each other. Every movement quaking through them. Words fall from both their lips, sweet pet names, gentle encouragement, soft praises.
Yes, just like that. Right there, love.
Feels so good. Love when you touch me there. Just–yes, yes, sweet boy.
Is this okay?
You’re so endlessly beautiful, do you know that?
Don’t stop, please. Baby, yes, skies, you feel so good.
They curl up, close and tight together, after. Spent and sated and endlessly in love. Hoseok falls asleep like that, curled up on Jungkook’s chest, counting each of his even breaths, feeling the steady drumbeat of his heart. All the little things that let him know, Jungkook’s here. He’s right here.
He wakes in the middle of the night, though, gasping, certain that everything has simply been a dream. Fear grips him for a moment when he thinks he’s still in his make-shift bed on the floor in the cockpit.
It isn’t until he feels an arm tighten around his waist, drawing him back against a firm, warm body, that Hoseok lets loose a breath - and the fear. Lips brush against the back of his neck. A nose nuzzles softly against his hair.
“I’m here,” Jungkook whispers to him.
Hoseok sighs, settling back down. He places a hand on top of Jungkook’s, gently threading their fingers together.
“You’re here.”
Eventually, he falls asleep again, safe in the knowledge that Jungkook’s here with him.
There are things that have definitely changed, now. Most of them are good things. Like the weight that’s fallen between them, with regards to their feelings. Now Hoseok isn’t trying to ignore them, and Jungkook isn’t afraid to let them loose. There’s a reward for being emotionally open and vulnerable with each other, and that’s getting to hear the words, and feel the truth of them, filling every corner of Hoseok’s soul, and every pocket of his heart.
It still takes him by surprise sometimes, when Jungkook touches his cheek and tells him, so openly, “I love you.” His heart kickstarts its way into a fluttering, floating mess every single time.
Still has his own pulse racing, his own face growing warm, whenever he’s so taken with Jungkook that he has to whisper the sentiment to him as well. It happens in random moments - when Jungkook comes from the sonic-shower, hair all soft and fluffy and freshly cleaned. When Jungkook wins at a game, grin wide, so competitive and so pleased. When Jungkook flirts with him, as if they aren’t already endlessly in love with each other. When Jungkook has a grumbly, grumpy morning and pouts his way around the ship. And Hoseok tells him, every time he thinks it, not quite every time he feels it though, because that is constantly, all the time, and sometimes he needs to use his mouth to say, or do, other things instead.
But it’s there, it’s always there, and there’s so much excitement and fondness every time they express these feelings with each other now.
Knowing what they are, and where they stand, is another of the good changes too. There are no more cautious probes about the future, because they know, whatever it is, they’ll be doing it together. They’ve talked about it enough. Decided that, after the visit to Yoongi, they’ll make their way back to Earth, because Hoseok definitely needs to talk to Namjoon too. Wants to introduce Jungkook to his parents also. Spend some time together there, before they leave and see where the stars will take them.
Some of the changes are heartaching, though. Like Jungkook. He has moments, hours or days, where he’s hard to reach and unknowingly sad. Hoseok holds him close, whispers words of comfort to him, and tells him he loves him. Feels pangs of sorrow pierce him, whenever Jungkook clutches at him and whispers apologies into Hoseok’s hair. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promised I wouldn’t and I did. I love you, I’m sorry.
And Hoseok tries to reassure him, it’s not Jungkook’s fault, and it’s okay, and they’re here, they’re alright, they’re together now.
During one of these days travelling back towards Sys VII, where they lock themselves within the bedroom and Hoseok tries to keep the peeled layers of Jungkook’s heart all together, Jungkook tells him that it won’t happen again. He doesn’t know how, doesn’t understand it, but he says that he feels certain that whatever it was that happened, it can’t occur again.
“They told me,” he says, fingers tight around Hoseok’s waist. “My friend. While I was– they told me. So I’ll never leave you again.”
“Okay, baby,” Hoseok says, pressing soft, sweet kisses to Jungkook’s face. “Okay. I’m glad.”
But through the things that have changed, and the things that haven’t, and all the things that have grown, and blossomed, and bloomed between them, they remain steadfast, and firm, and utterly enamoured and in love with each other. And that’s all the reassurance that Hoseok needs, honestly. They’re there for each other, no matter what, each other’s comfort. As long as they can stay by each other’s side. They’ve already gone through the worst, after all, and come through the other side still glowing.
✮
Jungkook listens for a long moment and Hoseok stills beside him. He’s always felt an affinity for stars, even before, something he’d never understood, but had come in useful for all his starhunting. But there’s an added layer to it now, after, well, after being a part of the universe himself. He feels it stronger? A kinship, maybe, with the stars, even the ones without souls.
He can feel the light nearby.
“There,” he says, pointing towards the small scrub of trees at the foot of a mountain. Ysembra is an unusual planet, another one that is tidal-locked. Where they walk now is always shrouded in eternal twilight. It’s very pretty, honestly, and they’ve already spent some time in one of the big towns here before moving onto their true purpose.
They walk through the grass, and Jungkook can’t tell if it’s naturally purple or the shadows cast by the eternally-fading light of the sky.
He feels the light from the star pulsing steadily the closer they get. There, nestled in some half-torn bush, likely from the star’s descent, it shines out at them. He listens again, and he can feel Hoseok beside him, listening too. There, the song, the feeling. He can hear it, singing out to him, its wish to return home, to the sky.
Jungkook leans down and picks the star up in his hands. It doesn’t hurt him, all he feels is a gentle pulse of warmth against his skin.
When he stands and turns to Hoseok, Hoseok is already there, unhooking an empty jar from his belt before holding it out towards Jungkook.
Jungkook smiles at him, before gently placing the star within the jar. “Soon,” he whispers to it.
Back onboard the Euphoria, Jungkook searches for the place in the sky where the star belongs, Hoseok following his directions as he pilots for them. Jungkook feels a matching warmth when they find it.
The other change, probably the most notable, is that he no longer needs to wear a suit in space. It makes no sense, and he doesn’t understand it, but he can breathe just fine when they make their way from the Euphoria with the fallen star. (And that had been a discovery, Jungkook, curious and determined, all but throwing himself out of the airlock, much to Hoseok’s horror). A soft glow now encases Jungkook’s body as he and Hoseok - definitely still in his suit - propel themselves towards the right spot.
Hoseok hands the jar to Jungkook, and gently, Jungkook releases the star, watching as it settles back into the space it had occupied. Its song changes, grows louder, its soul singing with joy now.
“There, you’re home now,” Hoseok says, and Jungkook smiles over at him, so overwhelmed with love and fondness for this man. So lucky, he thinks, that they found each other, not only once, but twice.
Hoseok takes Jungkook’s hand, and tugs on the rope that connects him back to the ship. The star twinkles merrily behind them. And Jungkook shines brighter still.
“Where to next?” Hoseok asks, once they’re settled back into the cockpit.
“To the Borae system,” Jungkook answers, watching with pride as Hoseok finds it on the navcomputer. “To see my friends.”
The smile Hoseok gives him in response is beyond breathtaking.
Hoseok’s voice is soft and soothing, as he reads to Jungkook. Not every night, because sometimes it’s too sad, too much for either of them. But tonight is one of those nights where Hoseok’s reading one of the folk tales from his datapad of notes to Jungkook. Some of the stories he’d heard before, and some are entirely new to him.
Tonight’s story is sad, about a woman from the moon who had been tricked and trapped. Jungkook’s heart aches. After what he’s experienced, he can’t be sure that some of these stories are just stories any more.
He snuggles up closer to Hoseok, making himself small, despite his actually being bigger, and he likes this, likes when Hoseok has an arm wound around him and pulls Jungkook close. Loves letting Hoseok’s voice and words wash gently over him. Comfort him and soothe him.
As he listens, Jungkook’s eyes fall on the new shelf he had put up recently, on the wall across from them. Hoseok’s shelf. There are books of his own on it, a picture of his family. And in the middle stand two jars. One has a star in it, the one Jungkook had gifted Hoseok, all those months ago now. The other is full of dirt, and the slowly growing starblossom. Its petals are unfurled, beautiful and glowing as they face Jungkook.
“That one’s so sad,” Jungkook murmurs when Hoseok finishes the story.
“It is,” Hoseok agrees. He sets the datapad aside, then brushes his fingers gently through Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook sighs at the sensation, practically melting against him. “But it ended happily, because she got home.”
“Mm,” Jungkook hums his agreement. He turns his head, nuzzling his face against Hoseok’s chest. The fabric of Hoseok’s shirt is soft against his skin, and he breathes in deeply. There’s something about Hoseok’s soft, pleasant scent that always grounds Jungkook, settles something deep within his bones.
“You know what you should do, with all the stories you collected?”
“Hmm?”
Hoseok’s fingers continue to brush gently through Jungkook’s hair. It’s grown even longer, lately, and Hoseok won’t stop telling him how pretty it is. How pretty he is. Jungkook feels warm just remembering.
“You should write a book.”
Hoseok laughs, thinking it a joke.
“I mean it,” Jungkook says. He pulls himself out from the little space he’d carved for himself so that he can look into Hoseok’s face. “You found so many different stories, made such extensive notes. You should put them all together into a book.”
Hoseok blinks at him, baffled. “I can’t write.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“Well, I mean, I haven’t…I, I haven’t written anything since college! I don’t think I could…”
Jungkook leans in, presses a gentle kiss to the tip of Hoseok’s pretty nose, making Hoseok’s words trail off uselessly.
“You can do anything, love,” Jungkook tells him. “You’re wonderful.”
“Oh. I…I…”
Hoseok’s cheeks have gone a deep shade of pink, and it looks very pretty with the way his freckles glow against his skin. They always glow, those tiny stars on his face. Jungkook can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to them, too. Feels the warmth of Hoseok’s sweet blush beneath his lips.
“You could add our story in there too, maybe,” he suggests softly. “It also has a happy ending, after all.”
Hoseok’s face smoothes out into a smile, although the blush remains, and he presses a tender kiss of his own to Jungkook’s smiling lips.
Jungkook sighs happily before burying his face into the crook of Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok’s arm is tight around him, and here, in this space, with this man, Jungkook feels warm, feels comfortable and feels loved.
“Yeah,” Hoseok says softly. “Yeah, it does.”
And most importantly, he notes, he doesn’t feel lonely.