Actions

Work Header

When The Planets Align

Work Text:

Jimin watched upon the world as he the darkness started disappearing to leave its place to the sun. The young prince watched as the world that once had been covered with a thick blanket of darkness started lightening up, and he watched as the little stars that were scattered all over the ground started going out one by one. It was truly fascinating to see with every time the sun showed her face, and it left Jimin with awe every single time without a miss. He pulled his knees to his chest as he watched the world orbit around itself peacefully, his hair that had been coloured with the warm rays of the sun getting into his eyes. He pressed his lips together and cocked his head to the side, it was truly fascinating, how the universe worked. He never got bored of watching the same scene unfold right in front of him, time and time again. It never ceased to bring a smile to his face, albeit small.

The sun did her job as she illuminated the face of Earth with her rays, and Jimin only got up when the very last star had gone out. He pursed his lips sadly for half a second, disappointed that it hadn't lasted as long as he wanted it to, but he pushed himself up either way. He had things to do, and he couldn't waste all of his time by sitting there and being enchanted by the way the Earth worked. No matter how much he wanted, the young prince had duties he had to fulfill.

The soles of his bare feet met the cold, polished, white floor right underneath him. He looked over the edge for a lingering second, his heart throbbing painfully as he thought about all of the possibilities that resided in the planet. He had never gotten to experience what it was being human, or at least he didn't remember anything. He had been working for as long as his existence went, and he wondered what “people” did normally. How did they spend their time? How did they have fun? He sighed. Having fun was something he didn't even quite know himself, as he had never gotten to feel it, for as long as he knew. But… there was a dull ache in his chest, something akin to longing blooming in his very ribcage. He placed a hand over it, a grimace marring his features. He shook the feeling away, and after a second of hesitant lingering, he turned his back to the orbiting planet beneath his feet and walked through the wall to get inside of his castle once again.

His castle was scattered all over the cosmos, and it wasn't technically a castle, but it was the closest thing to it. He walked through the empty rooms that accompanied nothing but silence, devoid of furniture of any sorts. They couldn't even be particularly described as rooms, as most of them consisted of three or less walls, showcasing the infinite universe that was right beneath the soles of his feet. Just countless empty rooms that reached eternity. Jimin couldn't blame himself for feeling slightly lonely at times, but he tried not to think about it.

He walked through the endless rooms and corridors, looking around the universe to see if anything was going wrong. He saw a dying star from the open wall of one of the rooms, reaching towards it to caress it gently. It was shining brightly, almost blindingly, a sign that its life was about to end. Jimin pressed his lips together in sympathy as he touched the little ball of light with his fingertips, cooing at it soon after, “It’ll be okay,” he reassured the dying star, “You’ll go out with a bang, and you’ll become a supernova. Wouldn't you like that, Mr. Star?” he asked with a soft voice, humming lovingly at it a second later, “So don't worry about anything, ‘kay? You’ll become even more beautiful when you die.”

He sat down on the floor as he waited for the star to reach its final moments, humming to it softly. It was one of his duties to take care of the nervous stars as the prince, and although it was tiring, he found it quite rewarding in a peculiar way. He liked calming down the stars’ nerves when they were too scared of dying, he liked singing lullabies to them to ease them into death. He smiled to himself as he watched the star explode into a brilliant flash of colours a while later, destroying so much of the things near it, but it didn't matter. Jimin pushed himself off the floor, stifling a yawn as he stretched and continued with his way before he had met the little star.

He entered a room with a giant, golden compass right in the middle, practically the first room he had ran into with something akin to furniture in it. It was somehow rather reassuring to finally see something other than the tormenting colour of white most of the walls were painted with. Although some of the rooms were pastel blue or transparent to the point where Jimin could easily see the infinite universe when he looked down, most of them sported a white so bright it hurt Jimin’s eyes.

The compass had the sun at one end, the golden globe moving slowly, illuminating the Earth and the other planets that surrounded it. Jimin leaned over it and held himself up by resting his palms at the edge of the golden compass, staring at the swirly hands of the device and making sure it was working perfectly. He got a satisfied smile on his face, he was doing his job once again, with the oncoming day.

He sat on the floor facing the Earth again, taking in a huge breath and cocking his head to the side curiously. He wondered what it was like to have the dirt beneath his feet instead of the white, hardwood or glass floors. He had a weird image of blue nothingness in his head, and he imagined that it was the big, royal blue colour that covered the earth’s surface. He stuck out his bottom lip, his chin was resting in his palms as he watched the planet orbit around itself. He wanted to reach forward and spin it faster, to grasp the very top of it and flick his wrist. His fingers twitched to just play with the planet, but he kept them to himself. The sun wouldn't be happy if he messed about with it.

He liked spending his time watching the planet orbit around itself, never stopping, ever changing. It was fascinating, really, the way life seemed to bloom on its surface. Jimin was mesmerised by it.

After a while, he got to his feet once again, walking out of the room. He had work to do, after all.

He walked past the giant, wooden doors that were always locked. He couldn't help but cock his head to the side and stare at it for a few moments, taking in the engraved symbols and shapes on the dark wood. He had never been in that room for as long as he had lived in the castle, didn't even know what was inside. The sun had never bothered to explain it. He pursed his lips, for as long as he had lived— or lived in the castle, as he didn't know what came before it— he had never once seen what was hidden behind those heavy doors. He wanted to know, but he also knew that if he tried to push the doors open, they wouldn't budge.

He shook the thought of the door away, he didn't have time to think about such things when there was so much he needed to do, still. So he got back to work, to checking up on the stars and the planets, making sure the sun was moving like she was supposed to. When he made sure that everything was going okay, his beloved sun had already started disappearing. Jimin watched as she left her place to the stars instead, as night overtook with its darkness. There was nothing illuminating the world other than the stars, and it felt strangely empty, like there was supposed to be something there, like something was supposed to fill in the empty void.

He got to his feet and walked towards his room. He was tired.

“Yoongi, mama will get worried, it’s late!” a four year old Namjoon called out to his elder brother as Yoongi was climbing on the rocks that were placed near the shore. Yoongi didn't mind his younger brother’s whining as he continued climbing, his six year old body barely hanging on the rocks.

“But what if he comes out tonight?” Yoongi called back, turning his face towards Namjoon who was still on the ground, watching him, “What if the prince comes out and we miss him?"

Namjoon pursed his lips at that, his normally smooth, baby soft skin creasing, “It’s a fairytale, even I know that!” he said sternly, pouting, “It’s just a story mama told us, it’s not real!”

Yoongi frowned at his little brother. How could his best friend and brother say that, “He is real!” he called back, doing nothing other than making the boy’s pout deeper, “He’s real, and one day he’ll come out, you’ll see. Just like mama said!” He turned his head towards the slowly darkening sky and smiled softly, “He’ll come out, I know it,” he whispered, more to himself than his little brother.

Namjoon huffed irritatedly, but didn't respond. Yoongi took his silence as the sign that their conversation was over, and directed all of his attention to the stars that had started slowly becoming visible.

“Yoongi! Namjoon! Dinner time!” Both of the boys turned their heads with the sound of their mother, who was standing in front of their house, a worn out apron tied to her waist and her hair in a messy ponytail. She cupped her hands around her mouth as she called out to them, “Come home, boys, it’s getting late!”

Namjoon gave his brother a smirk that said, I told you, and Yoongi answered by rolling his eyes at him, but slowly getting off the rocks nonetheless. They jogged towards their house, their mother smiling at them brightly, the corners of her eyes crinkling with years upon years of smiling, her eyes shining. Yoongi loved his mother, because she, unlike the woman who had actually given birth to him, had stuck around to take care of him and made sure that he grew up healthy and strong, giving him the love and warmth he so desperately craved and deserved. She might not be his real mother, but she was much better than anyone who could have parented him, along with his father, who, unfortunately, had had to leave them for military. Although Yoongi missed him, he knew that his father was doing something heroic, and was proud of him beyond imagination.

Yoongi didn't remember his real parents, nor did he want to. He didn't even know what had happened to them, he guessed that they had abandoned him in the orphanage, as he had been found at the doorstep with a note with just his name in it when he was merely a few months old. The fact that he was abandoned didn't bother him. He didn't care, not really. He knew that if it hadn't been for his real parents abandoning him, he never would have met Namjoon or his parents, and he was happy.

He ran into the arms of his mother, making her chuckle as he hugged her tightly. The woman responded by crouching on the floor so that she could wrap her skinny arms around the little boy’s torso, “Hey, YoonYoon,” she whispered into his ear, kissing his temple. She looked up to see Namjoon, who looked at them with a jealousy ridden expression, and waved at him to call him over. She hugged them both tightly, before letting go of the two boys and opening the front door to their house wider, “Dinner time, boys. Go wash up and sit down, all right?” She chuckled when she earned a “Yes, mama,” from the both of them in unison, making her way back towards the kitchen as the two boys kicked their shoes off that were covered in sand and dirt.

Yoongi pushed Namjoon as they raced for the bathroom, making the boy let out a loud, “Hey!” as the elder giggled to himself mischievously. He washed his hands and face before Namjoon even reached the bathroom, sprinting out of it just as his little brother was reaching for the stool that stood in front of the sink for the two of them. Yoongi ran into the kitchen that was connected to the lounge, climbing on the chair which was next to his mother’s, letting out some grunts as the chair was still too big for him, but he could do it, he was a big boy.

Namjoon let out a huff when he saw the elder already seated in the chair he wanted to sit on, earning a mischievous grin from the latter, but climbed on the chair next to his brother without a word either way. He glared at Yoongi, but the elder did nothing other than stick his tongue out at him, to which Namjoon responded by doing the same. However, they both turned away when they heard their mother’s beautiful humming coming closer to them, waiting patiently as the delicious smell of dinner filled their nostrils. Their mother entered the room, continuing humming a familiar song, as she placed the big pot on top of the table. Yoongi’s mouth watered at the scent.

“Since it’s your birthday, big boy,” his mother said lovingly, caressing his hair, “I made beef stew. You like beef stew, don't you?” she asked, earning an enthusiastic nod from Yoongi, making her chuckle, “Dig in then, boys,” she said lovingly.

Yoongi was just about to do that when a thought struck him, making him turn to look at his mother with furrowed brows, “Did it come?” he asked her, his voice hopeful, “Daddy’s letter, did it come?”

His mother’s expression turned into that of sudden realisation, her perfect brows knitted as she frantically looked for something in her pockets. When she found what she was looking for, her beautiful features lightened up with a wide smile, and she pulled out a sealed envelope, handing it to Yoongi, “There you go, YoonYoon,” she mumbled lovingly.

Yoongi’s heart seemed too big for his little body then, it felt as if it had swollen to the size of a watermelon as he opened the envelope with shaky hands, his small fingers hesitant and careful with the way they moved. He opened it and took out the pages from inside of it, unfolding them and staring at his father’s messy handwriting. He could make out just a few words, including his own name that was written at the very top of the first page, but just gazing upon the writings filled his chest with something akin to warmth, and he smiled.

She handed the pages to his mother, “Mama, can you read it for me?” he asked, making his mother emit a soft chuckle.

“Of course, YoonYoon,” she replied, taking the papers into her own hands and taking a quick look at them before clearing her throat, “‘To my big boy Yoongi,” she read, “‘Happy birthday, baby! I’m sorry, I meant my big man, since you’re six years old now. You’ve grown so much over the years we’ve had you, I wish I could see with my own eyes how big you are. I bet you’re at least as tall as me. Did your mommy make you beef stew? I know you like it. Your mother certainly makes it the best, doesn't she?’” she rolled her eyes lovingly, a fond smile on her lips. Yoongi loved seeing her like that, “‘We don't get food like that here, so make sure you eat lots for daddy too, okay? The food here is icky, you wouldn't like it. I really miss you boys and your mommy, and the delicious, delicious food.

“‘Chulhyun and the rest of the guys are saying hi, by the way! He said that he’s really proud of you for becoming such a big boy, and that he would give you your present as soon as we get discharged. He misses you boys, and he told me that he’s been getting letters from Seokjin about how you guys became friends, is that true? I’m really glad to hear that, since Seokjin is such a nice boy and he would be a good big brother to you boys. Are you all playing nice? Is Namjoon getting along with him well? Are you? I bet you are, you’re such good boys, there’s no reason for you to not be best friends with him.

“‘Can you read yet? Or is your mother reading this for you?’” Yoongi flushed with embarrassment, and there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mother’s curved lips, “‘Either way, you’re the smartest big boy I know, along with Namjoonie, of course,’” the four year old let out a satisfied hum, “‘I love you, baby. I promise, I’ll come back home soon and give all of you a biiiig hug. And I’m going to make you those delicious Daddy Cakes, and I’m going to read you boys bedtime stories, and I’ll take you to see the festivals, would you like that? I promise, we’re going to have so much fun when I come back home. I love you boys so much, I love you all. Don't make mommy upset, okay? I’ll see you boys later, I love you. Happy birthday once again, my big boy!”

Yoongi’s mother sniffled once before wiping her eyes with a hand, “‘Your daddy that loves you very much,’” she read with a fond tone, before pausing and chuckling as she read the last part, “‘PS, you’ll be very happy later, or at least I hope so. Your mommy knows what I’m talking about.’” She let out a wet chuckle, wiping her eyes again. Yoongi looked at her worriedly, along with Namjoon.

“Mama, don't be sad,” his little brother pleaded, “Daddy will come home soon, don't cry.”

She laughed again, her voice bearing nothing other than fondness, “I’m not sad, Joonie,” she reassured him, making the both of them look at her confusedly, “I’m not sad, boys, don't worry,” she said again, a smile on her perfect lips.

“But,” Yoongi mumbled, his small index finger pointing towards the tears in her eyes, “But you’re crying, mommy,” he said sadly, earning yet another chuckle.

“Yeah, I am,” she agreed with a smile, “But they’re not sad tears, YoonYoon,” she said reassuringly, reaching forward to grab his small hand. Her hands were somewhat calloused, but still managed to look absolutely stunning and elegant, “You’ll get it when you grow older, YoonYoon, that not all tears are born from sadness.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows, “But I am old!” he exclaimed, pointing at the sheets of paper in her hands, “Daddy said so! I’m a big boy now!”

She chuckled, tousling his hair, “Of course you are, YoonYoon,” she mused, a fond smile gracing her lips, “But you’re still going to grow and become an even bigger boy, aren't you?” she asked, making Yoongi furrow his brows and think for a second. When he realised that she was right, he nodded with wide eyes, making her smile widen, “When you become an even bigger boy, you’ll understand,” she promised. She then clapped her hands, and with a wide grin, declared, “Time for dinner! Dig in, boys!”

Dinner was filled with chattering and laughter as always. His mother was always the best when it came to making them laugh until their stomachs ached, with her scarily accurate animal impressions and lame jokes. She was beautiful all the time, but she was especially beautiful when she laughed like this. Yoongi loved looking at his mother and watching her when she was so happy, so full of life.

After their bath, when she was tucking them into bed, she swept Yoongi’s hair off of his forehead and asked with a warm smile, “What story does the birthday boy want to listen?”, her expression told them that she already knew which one Yoongi would choose.

“Prince of the sun!” Yoongi exclaimed enthusiastically, making his mother chuckle, “I wanna hear about the Prince of the sun!” he ignored the sigh he earned from Namjoon as he stared at his mother with stars in his eyes.

She beamed at him, caressing his hair, “Okay, then, Prince of the sun it is,” she mused, a small smile playing on her lips. She cleared her throat and began telling the story, “Once upon a time, there was a young man with a smile that was as bright as the sun herself. She liked him and his smile so much that she wanted him to come and live with her, as she was lonely and needed company. And she loved the young man so much that she gifted him her rays of light, which dyed his hair a golden colour, as bright as her.” Yoongi nodded along with wide eyes, fascinated by the story no matter how many times he had heard it. “The young man had to take care of the stars and the sun, making sure she was on time whenever day was brought upon the Earth, so that she could grace the humans with her light and warmth. It was a serious and important job indeed, but the young man was dedicated and strong willed, he could get over anything that came his way,” she continued, and even Namjoon, who didn't believe the story, was too engrossed to make any comments, “The young man, whilst doing his job, fell in love with the sky, and his eyes turned into the colour of the clear morning sky, bluer than the ocean. His skin was kissed by the sun herself, and his fingertips had the warmth of her in them. The sun gave him a golden crown that was painted with her rays of light, and a white cape that was sewn with clouds. He lives in the sky, and looks over the Earth whilst looking over us and the universe, making sure everything's in order and working, making sure the sun is always on time and never late. But as he was doing his job, he realised that the sun got really tired after shining brightly the entire summer, and he made it so that she started going to bed earlier after the summer, which is why we have shorter days during the winter,” she explained, and Yoongi was mesmerised by the story once again, “But the prince started missing the Earth. He missed his friends and family, and although he loved the sun very much, he kept longing for the home he had forgotten, since he had lived in the castle for so long. The prince forgot about ever being human, but kept longing for his home. So, some say that when the sun is asleep at night and the world is dark and no one can see him, he sneaks out to see the Earth again.”

Yoongi pouted, “He must be lonely in his castle,” he mused, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the sky through it. He then turned to his mother with wide eyes, “Do you think I’ll ever get to see him, mama?” he asked hopefully, making her smile and ruffle his hair.

“I’m sure, YoonYoon. You should make a wish to him, I heard that he grants the wishes of big boys who believe in him,” she said lovingly, before placing a kiss on his forehead and putting out the candle on his nightstand. She got up from his bed so that she could kiss Namjoon too, putting his candle out as well, before she moved towards the door, one hand on the handle, “Goodnight, boys,” she said warmly, making the two wish her a goodnight as well.

Yoongi closed his eyes, waiting for her to just close the door and leave, but she walked towards him again, raising his comforter and placing something underneath it. Before Yoongi could look at her with a questioning gaze, she was gone, closing the door behind her and emitting the room in complete darkness. Yoongi sat up on his bed in the dark, lifting his comforter to find a small box underneath it. He picked it up curiously, opening to lid to look inside. He pulled out something soft, it seemed stuffed, and when his eyes got used to the dark, he saw that it was a doll. A doll with bright yellow hair and a crown sitting on top of its head, a white cape over its shoulders. He smiled upon seeing the doll of the prince, gently petting its head. It was dressed like royalty, and its eyes that were made from buttons that were painted blue almost seemed like they were smiling at him.

He looked after his mother in gratitude, before he looked into the box and found one more thing: a note. Although having a bit of a hard time making out the words, he could finally figure out what the note said:

From Daddy

He grinned to himself widely, hugging the doll close to his chest. He got up to his feet, the doll still in his hands, as he walked towards the window of their bedroom. He heard Namjoon shuffle in his bed, before the boy asked, with a groggy voice, “Where are you going?”

Yoongi turned to look at his little brother, whose eyes were drooping with sleep, “Out,” he replied, only to get a pleading look on his face a second later, “Don't tell mama, I’ll be right back, okay?” he asked, making Namjoon press his lips together and furrow his brows with uncertainty. Yoongi let out a huff, “Please, Joonie?” he pleaded to his younger brother, who finally gave in and nodded. Yoongi gave him a bright grin before he opened the window and climbed out of it, making his way towards the beach with bare feet.

It took about three minutes before he was standing above the rocks once again, his doll tightly hugged against his chest, as he gazed upon the stars that were barely enough to illuminate the sea with the colour of ink in front of him. His mouth was gaped open as he stared at the starry sky, only to look down at the doll in his hands. He pursed his lips, “Can you really grant wishes?” he asked, his eyes blown wide, before he shut them tightly and hugged the doll to his chest once again, squeezing it, “Please, please, please, let daddy come home. He doesn't like it there, and mommy is sad when daddy isn't here. Please, prince.” He opened his eyes to caress the doll’s face gently, as much as his chubby fingers could muster, “I just want daddy to come home, so that mama can be happy again! I know that she only smiles because she wants us to be happy, but I want mama to be happy too!”

He stuck his bottom lip out as he stared at the doll in his palms, “Am I ever going to see you, prince? Are you ever going to show up?” he asked the doll, “It’s night right now, so why aren't you coming out? Sun is sleeping, isn't she? Are you maybe on house arrest? Is the sun not letting you go out? Did you get caught?” He pouted when he got no answer to any of his questions, “I just really wanna meet you,” he mumbled as he looked up at the stars.

That night, he returned home with a small smile on his face, despite not getting to see his hero once again. It was okay, because his mother had promised him that he would see him, and she never broke her promises. Like the time she had promised them to do to the amusement park and had taken them despite her headache. Prince of sun might have been his hero, but he came after his mother he loved so much.

His father would come home soon, he knew it, because he had wished upon the stars and knew that it would be granted by the prince. But when he saw his mother crying over a letter from the military less than a year later, he wondered just how trustworthy the prince was.

Jimin loved the sun, he truly did. She had always been kind to him, loving and warm. But, as ashamed as he was to admit it, it wasn't enough anymore, she wasn't enough anymore. When he thought back, he realised that she hadn't been enough for quite a while now. Because he was the sun and the sun was him, they shared a connection that made them two halves of a whole, which meant that Jimin was actually by himself. Him and the sun were two different beings and the same being at the same time. He talked to himself, he gazed upon the endless cosmos by himself, and he took care of himself, or rather, the sun. Jimin wasn't enough anymore, he hadn't been enough for quite a while now.

He looked at the earth with his head cocked to the side, wondering just how beautiful it must be to walk on the surface like humans did. He wondered, about whether people were as kind and beautiful as he wanted them to be, about whether he could finally ease the restlessness that had been living in his chest for as long as he knew. And he made a plan. A rather foolish one, and Jimin couldn't help but gnaw on his bottom lip at the thought of betraying his beloved sun like that, but he wondered, about just how sneaking out would be like.

For as long as he could remember, he had never once left the castle, always too occupied with his job, and somewhat scared of what the sun would say. He didn't know whether this was a good idea or a bad one, his mind yelled at him about how it was the latter, but the warmth in his chest telling him to follow the sun’s beams to the surface of the Earth, experience things he had never even been aware of before. A burning want to escape the castle that had more or less become his prison was overwhelming as it was, and he couldn't help but think about what would happen if the sun was to learn about this.

He shook his head, his determined gaze falling on the Earth. He would do it, he would. He just needed her to fall asleep.

A twenty year old Yoongi was standing on the rocks near the shore, the ones he liked to climb all throughout his life, albeit the occasion getting fewer and fewer. He closed his eyes and let the salty smell of the ocean fill his nostrils. It was peaceful, he enjoyed sitting there like it was only him in the world, him and the ocean, and the slowly disappearing sun. He smiled to himself softly as he remembered the stories his mother used to tell him. About the boy that was the sun, with hair the colour of her beams and eyes resembling the sky. It was almost unimaginable, humans came with brown eyes and brown hair. As he thought about it, the fairytale really made no sense. It was almost comical what he used to believe back when he was younger, back when he thought wishes could be granted by a magical boy in the sky, back when his parents were alive.

He closed his eyes again, the gentle breeze caressing his skin softly. He didn't feel like going home to Namjoon and Seokjin, the two boys seemed all too much for him at that moment. He could never understand how those who had managed to fall in love, with Seokjin’s awkward antics and Namjoon’s lame personality, but they had made it work. Maybe weirdos attract each other, he reckoned to himself with a small smile gracing his lips.

The sun was setting slowly, painting the sky with oranges, pinks and about any colour Yoongi could think of, before, ultimately, the colours would leave to surround the world with darkness that would only be slightly illuminated by the lights of the stars. The sky always seemed too empty at night, darkness looking almost like a blanket folded over their heads. Yoongi liked the darkness, it was calming.

“Yoongi!” he heard Seokjin call for him. The man had moved in with them to take care of the two brothers when their mother had passed away, and he had taken the role of a parent figure for the two of them. They had been friends with him since their childhood, they were closer than family with the elder. And with his younger brother now happily married to him, they truly had become family.

“Yeah?” he called back, not bothering to turn his head. He didn't want to, not when he knew that he had to wait another day to see these colours once again.

“It’s dinner time!” Seokjin said this time, and Yoongi knew that he had his apron tied around his waist, his hair slightly disheveled from running his hands through it so much like he did when he was concentrated on something.

“I’m not going to eat,” he then said to him, “Not hungry.” He could practically see the way the man pursed his lips at that, his hands at his hips with a rather annoyed expression settled on his face. He could swear he heard a soft sigh.

“Fine,” Seokjin said, “But make sure you eat something before you go to bed, okay?” Yoongi waved a hand approvingly without turning to look at the man, not ripping his eyes off the scenery in front of him. He had always been rather infatuated with the sky, with the stories his mother used to tell him and whatnot. He thought of the prince that lived up there with the sun and his blonde hair and blue eyes, the corners of his lips curling upwards ever so slightly. It was a nice story, he had to admit, but that was all it was. A story. The thought made him somewhat sad, it was nice to have something to believe in, something that made him think that wishes could come true and the sky wasn't just the sky but a home to someone.

He sat there on the rocks until it was well into the night, the darkness surrounding him and the stars’ pale light illuminating the surface of the ink like water ever so slightly. He closed his eyes and breathed in the salty scent of the ocean, it was always just enough to calm his senses and let him just be. He liked sitting there, with his arms circled around his shins, pulling them to his chest, his mind clear and his head filled with memories and endless dreams. He opened his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly to see the bright lights emitted from the village behind him, the lanterns, torches and the candles illuminating the dark night. He wondered if it was disrespectful to the sun to copy her beautiful light with mere fire.

He let out a sigh, as he needed to go home before Seokjin and Namjoon got too worried. He sometimes wished the eldest of them all didn't worry so much, it reminded him too much of his mother and the lines of anxiety across her beautiful features. Seokjin had the exact same expression as her, and if it hurt Yoongi, he didn't tell. He appreciated the presence of the elder too much to say anything. Besides, the love struck expression on Namjoon’s face was enough to keep his mouth shut about anything and everything, the happiness of his little brother meant everything to the elder.

He was raising himself off of the rocks when he spotted something in the blackened water, something akin to a human’s figure. His brows furrowed, wondering who in their right mind would get into the the ocean that late in the night. However, his chest twisted with anxiety as he saw that the figure wasn't moving. After a second of not knowing what to do, he muttered a curse under his breath and kicked his shoes off, getting into the water and swimming towards the figure in the dark. He couldn't see his feet in the murky water, and he just prayed to the sun that the creatures that came out of the sea at night were mere tales.

He kicked with his feet and pushed himself forward, getting closer and closer to the figure that was now only a little ahead of him. Salty water of the ocean was on his lips, his face, and his body trembled with the cold. He could barely feel his hands in the bone chilling cold, but he didn't stop, reckoning that his body would gradually get warmer from movement. It didn't, but he continued swimming nonetheless, now that he could see that the figure was a man, he couldn't stop. He was so close to him, so close.

He got a handful of the man’s shirt once he reached him, pulling him closer to his chest and struggling to stay above the water with the newly added weight on himself. He couldn't see the man’s features in the darkness, but he assumed that he was still alive. Yoongi wrapped his arm around the waist of the stranger and started pulling him towards the shore, his teeth clattering with the cold that was seeping through his very skin and into his bones.

He swam to the shore until his arms and legs were numb and he was just barely hanging onto the unconscious body of the man, determined not to let go. When he finally reached the shore, with a final burst of strength, he managed to pull him on the cool sand. He dropped next to the man, taking multiple lungfuls of air. He turned his head to see the man’s eyes closed, and a new wave of panic washed over him. He quickly bent over the body and placed an ear against the man’s chest to hear the faintest of heartbeats, it sounded odd, almost as if there was a stream in the man’s chest instead of a clutter of blood pumping muscles. He placed his hands on the man’s chest and started pushing fast and hard, counting up to thirty before reaching for the man’s chin lifting it up, tilting his head. He pinched his nose and leaned in, connecting their lips and breathing into the man’s mouth until he could see his chest rise. He blew again, only to go back to pumping on his chest.

The man suddenly went into a coughing fit, his eyes screwing shut tightly and his body curling to its side as he puked water onto the sand. Yoongi let out a sigh of relief at the sight, and only then did he register the sight of the man in front of him. The stranger had hair that looked like that of the light of the sun, the colour popping and shining in the low lighting coming from the village. Yoongi’s eyes were as wide as saucers as his gaze trailed down to the boy’s bare arms that were a beautiful caramel colour, looking as if the sun herself had come down and kissed every inch of it.

And when the man turned around to look at him with huge eyes, he saw that they were the same colour as the sky.

“Wh-who are you?” the man said, stuttering. He looked around with something akin to panic, “Where am I?”

Yoongi was speechless, his brain did not know how to take in this unnatural beauty in front of him, this man that looked like the very child of sun herself, like the dawn and the bright rays of light that washed the earth with the oncoming day, like the ocean when it was met with the day and the bluest of skies when the harsh weather left its place to the warmth and cloudless days.

Like his old doll and the stories his mother used to tell him.

“Y-you are i-in a vil-village,” he managed to choke out, his voice coming out weak and shaky, but he did not know whether that was from the swimming whilst carrying a grown man’s body or the shock. He swallowed before speaking again, wishing for his teeth to stop clattering with the now added cold of the wind, “Wh-wh-who ar-are you?” He wrapped his arms around himself to maintain some warmth. The man in front of him didn't seem bothered by the cold.

His eyes grew even more in size, and Yoongi’s heart picked up in pace, “I’m on Earth?!” the man exclaimed, a disbelieving smile finding its way onto his face. Yoongi couldn't help but stare at him weirdly as the man let out a laugh, “I did it!” he yelled to no one, tilting his head back so that he could face the sky, “I really did it!”

He must have realised Yoongi being slightly taken aback and somewhat scared, as he quickly raised his hand in front of him in a way to show that he was harmless, shaking them frantically, his eyes blown wide, “No, no, human, I promise I’ll do you no harm!” A huge grin spread across his face, “I just cannot believe that I’m on Earth right now, it’s unbelievable!” His ecstatic expression left only to leave its place to a concerned frown, “But, human, you’re shaking. Is it normal for humans to do that?” he asked worriedly, reaching a hand for Yoongi, who was too shocked to move or squirm away from the stranger’s touch. When the man’s small fingers wrapped themselves around Yoongi’s hand, all he could think about was how obnoxiously warm it was, as if he was touching a candle instead of a person. However, it wasn't unpleasant. The man’s frown deepened upon making physical contact with him, “Human, you’re freezing!” he exclaimed.

“Who are you?” he choked out once again, no stuttering but with a rather weak voice, ignoring the man’s strange words.

The man gave him a smile, “Jimin,” he replied with an oddly sweet tone, jerking his head upwards, “I live up there, but I wanted to see what Earth was like. Didn't start out too well, if I have to be honest,” he laughed embarrassedly, only turn to Yoongi once again, “Who are you?” he asked, his head cocked to the side. For a second, Yoongi didn't register what the man was saying, before the cogs in his brain started working once again and a rather embarrassing sound left his mouth.

“Y-Yoongi,” he replied, his cheeks burning despite the rest of his body shriveling and trembling with the cold.

Jimin gave him a smile so bright that it seemed to illuminate the dark night, blinding Yoongi. There was warmth spreading in his chest, and with a hazy mind, he wondered whether it was the man casting a magic spell on him. He forcefully ripped his eyes that had been glued on the man— boy? Now that he was looking at him closely, Jimin looked young— and casted them down on the sand, playing with his fingers nervously, a tic he had never gotten rid of since his childhood, “Why do you look like that?” The words had escaped his mouth before he could help it, and he tried to backtrack with wide eyes as Jimin stared at him confusedly, “It’s just that, y-you have yellow hair, and— and blue eyes, and I— I’ve never seen anything like it,” he managed to say, once again averting his eyes as a blush spread over his cheeks, he told his rapidly beating heart to calm down, “What even are you? A fairy, maybe?” he asked, ignoring his annoying mind that was screaming at him, saying that no, the man wasn't a fairy, and that he, in fact, knew what— or rather who it was, but Yoongi tried to push the thought away. Because it couldn't be.

The boy chuckled, his laughter as clear as bells and sounding like the sun herself. A lump settled in Yoongi’s throat, “No,” the boy replied, laughter still clear in his voice, “No, I’m a prince. I take care of the sun.” How he said that so seriously, Yoongi did not know. Although the thought had crossed his mind, he insistently refused to believe it, but now the boy was spewing nonsense and he couldn't quite contain the laugh that was filled with disbelief from coming out of his mouth. The boy’s peaceful and happy expression came to a halt, and he cocked his head to the side with confusion, his brows knitted, “What?” he asked as Yoongi’s laughter grew louder.

That’s when Yoongi stopped laughing, but he was still emitting little chuckles as he looked at the young boy, “You can't possibly expect me to believe that, now, can you?” he asked, making Jimin all the more confused, so much so that he wanted to laugh again, “That’s just a story, it’s not real,” he said firmly, “I don't know how you got your hair and eyes to be like that, but you can't make me believe in a childish story just because of it.” He didn't admit the annoying burning he felt in his chest when he spewed those words, one part of him wanting to believe to boy more than anything, but he couldn't. He was not going to allow himself to think that his wish had just been ignored. No, the prince in the sky didn't exist and he wasn't going to blame his parents’ deaths on anything but nature.

The boy looked so confused it was almost comical, “I don't think I quite understand what you’re saying,” he murmured, and Yoongi almost wanted to throw him back into the ocean, “What story? Why can you not believe me?”

“Because!” he yelled in response, making the boy flinch. He ignored the twinge of guilt in his chest, “Because it’s not real! It cannot be real, it can't—” he cut himself off, taking deep breaths to steady himself, running a hand through his wet hair, “It’s just a fairytale, Jimin. It’s not real. My mother—” the lump in his throat grew bigger at the mention of his mother, but he forced himself to continue, “she used to tell it to me and my brother as a bedtime story. Do you understand why it cannot be real?”

Jimin looked almost awed, “Humans tell stories about me?” he asked, and in the very dim light of the beach, Yoongi could make out a faint blush spreading on his full cheeks.

He let out a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You’re— you cannot be him, you’re— you’re a human too. You— I swear to the sun,” he took a deep breath again, looking at Jimin sternly, “He doesn't exist, it’s just a fairytale. I don't know how much sea water you swallowed, but you’re just a human like the rest of us. Even though you have funky coloured hair and eyes.” His words sounded fake and weak to even himself, but he ignored it. He couldn't believe he actually had to talk to someone to make them believe that they were not the prince of the sun, he couldn't believe he had to sit there, wet from head to toe and practically dripping, his teeth clattering and his body shaking from the cold, having to make someone believe that they were not a mythical creature from a fairytale.

“I don't understand, why would you think that I’m a human? I’m not.” Yoongi looked at him with furrowed brows, and Jimin looked desperate, “How can I prove it to you that I’m the prince? Tell me, I shall do it.”

Yoongi looked him up and down, before gaining a cynical smile on his face, “Show me your powers,” he said mockingly, “Then I’ll believe you.” He had expected the boy to backtrack and admit that he wasn't actually the prince, but the boy looked concentrated on something as he stuck his two hands out and clasped them together. Just as Yoongi was about to get up and walk away and into his house, he saw something, light, coming from the inside of the boy’s palm. Jimin smiled to himself satisfiedly and removed his hands from the air, and there hung a ball of pure light in front of them. Yoongi’s eyes widened at the sight, and he moved away from it, almost dropping on the sand as he shuffled. The ball of light was illuminating the boy’s features far better than the distant lights coming from the village.

“H-how did you—” he cut himself off as he stared at the ball of light that was only inches away from his face. Just as he was reaching forward to touch it, it disappeared, bringing darkness upon them once again. Yoongi wasn't even sure what had just happened, as he just sat there and blinked, staring straight ahead at where the little ball used to be. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and his gaze shot up to meet Jimin’s, who was gnawing at his bottom lip nervously as he stared at the boy in front of him.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked, albeit rather anxiously. It took Yoongi a couple seconds to collect himself.

He furrowed his brows and pinched the bridge of his nose, “So you really are the prince?” he asked. His head hurt. He looked at the boy to find him nodding enthusiastically, “And you’re here, why?”

Jimin looked slightly taken aback at that, he sat back and started playing with his fingers, averting his gaze, “Why?” he repeated, making Yoongi nod sternly, “I… I was alone,” he finally answered, a sudden look of determination on his features, “I felt lonely in the castle, and I had been staring at the Earth for millions of years now— so I just left.”

Yoongi’s frown deepened, “Does that mean you’re going to stay on Earth from now on?” he asked, making Jimin lower his head with sadness.

“No,” the boy replied, sorrow laced in his voice, “No, I cannot. As much as I feel lonely, someone needs to take care of the stuff up there, so no. I shall return to my castle once she awakens, I cannot make it known to her that I’ve left. She wouldn't be angry, exactly, but I don't think she would be happy to hear that I’m unhappy up there.” He chuckled dryly, “So I will be going back the first thing in the morning. I just wanted to see the world, even if it’s for a little bit,” he said as he smiled, and it was brighter than the sun herself. Yoongi felt his throat go dry at that, and he had to swallow thickly.

A thought came to his mind, a thought so devastating that he couldn't help but say it out loud, “Why did you never listen to me?” he asked, the lump in his throat becoming bigger, not allowing him to breathe properly. The boy looked at him with a confused glance, and Yoongi didn't know whether that made him angry or upset, “I talked to the stars and the sun every day, and I wished, with my entire heart, that one day my father would come home. I wished for my mother to be happy again, I wished and wished, but nothing.” His heart ached, and his fingers curled into tight fists by his sides, “Why did you never listen to my wishes?”

“Yoongi,” the boy started, and Yoongi had to ignore how pretty his name sounded, coming from those plush lips, “I don't know what you’re talking about. I don't grant wishes.”

Yoongi paused, furrowing his brows, “But- but my mother used to say—”

“I only take care of the sun, Yoongi,” the boy cut him off, his gaze was soft as he looked at the boy in front of him, a gentle smile on his lips, “I don't hear or grant wishes people make. I’m there just to keep the sun company and take care of her. I wake her up and tell her when to go to sleep, and I take care of dying stars when they’re too nervous to die. I don't do anything more than that. I’m sorry.” Yoongi hated to admit it to himself, but Jimin sounded genuine, no drop of lie in his tone. He stayed like that for a few seconds more, his hands in tight fists and his expression that of serious doubtfulness. But eventually, he heaved a sigh and his face relaxed.

“What about the golden crown and the cape made from clouds, then? Were those false too?” he asked, only half joking.

Jimin laughed, that clear sound filled Yoongi’s ears once again, “Yes,” he replied after a second, a wide grin still lingering on his face, “I cannot believe humans make up such things, how creative. A cape made of clouds, it actually sounds rather comfortable, don't you think so?” he asked, laughing.

Yoongi paused for a few seconds, thinking this through. He buried his face in his hands and let out a sigh of frustration mixed with exhaustion. It was late, and his head hurt from all of this new information he was being bombarded with. He knew that Jimin was staring at him without even raising his head to check, as he could feel the man’s eyes as if they were two little suns, burning holes into his very skin. In the short span of time that was about half an hour, he had learned that his childhood hero, the man he had looked up to and wished upon, but later in life declared fake and a fairy tale, was real. He was very much real, with skin kissed by the sun, hair so bright and beautiful it reminded him of early dawn and the first rays of light of the day the sun blessed the Earth with, and eyes, so incredibly blue and looked almost as if they were piercing through Yoongi’s very soul without causing the least bit of discomfort. They were just beautiful and calming, like the ocean when the weather was cold and crisp. He turned to look at him, and those said blue eyes were looking at him, and his lips that looked as soft as clouds were slightly agape in what he recognized as worry.

“Yoongi?” the boy whispered, as if afraid he would break in half if he raised his voice, “Are you okay?”

And something broke in his chest. He did not quite know what it was or why it broke, but it did. Suddenly, he was filled with this intense need to comfort this strange boy and ease his worries. He knew that he would regret saying it, but he asked it either way, “Would you like me to show you around?”

Jimin’s eyes grew to the size of the sun herself, his lips even more agape now, practically hung open with something akin to shock and… something else. Yoongi couldn't quite read his eyes and see beyond the surprised expression that was like a veil hung in front of that said something else, but he knew of its existence. He chose to make himself believe that it was happiness, or rather, relief. The relief of not having to walk the earth by himself, maybe? Or rather the relief of Yoongi not shutting him out or running away. He didn't know, but he chose to believe that it was relief nevertheless.

“I— Yeah,” he breathed out finally, his face splitting in half with a dazzling smile, so bright and beautiful that it almost blinded Yoongi in the dark night. He knew that Jimin wasn't human, it was impossible for any human to be able to be that bright, to the point where they rendered him sightless. He couldn't help but smile back, as Jimin’s grin was contagious.

In the matter of a second, Jimin was on his feet, and Yoongi realised that he was barefoot. He didn't question it, getting up and holding his own shoes without wearing them on his sand covered, wet feet. Jimin smiled at him blindingly upon making eye contact, and Yoongi realised that he couldn't even feel the cold that came with the biting wind. What was supposed to make him shiver and tremble and feel the cold seep into his very bones was nonexistent, and it surprised Yoongi, to say the least. He had a hunch that it was connected to the boy in front of him, but he didn't dwell on it. He didn't need more thinking and headaches than what he had already gone through. So he pushed it aside and led the way, hearing Jimin’s muffled footsteps in the sand.

They were silent for a while, and although it wasn't uncomfortable, Yoongi didn't really know what to do with himself. He was still in a state of shock from meeting Jimin, and he wasn't sure whether he could ever go back to how things used to be before he had been aware of his existence. He repressed a tired sigh as they walked past the rocks and climbed on the stone road leading towards the village. He saw his house sitting at the outskirts of it, just a tad bit farther away from the rest of the houses. His mother had always loved the ocean, it wasn't surprising for his father to build the house as close to it as possible. They could smell the ocean by merely opening the windows.

“Was that the ocean?” Yoongi turned his head to look at the boy when he heard his voice. Jimin, whose face was lit up better than it had been at the shore, pointed backwards with his thumb, “The water, I always see it from my castle. It was the ocean, right?” There was something akin to excitement laced in his tone, and Yoongi couldn't help but smile slightly. It was nice to see Jimin getting excited over the littlest things, he hadn't met anyone like that before. But, he reckoned, everything really was new to this boy. Yoongi wasn't sure whether he should find that something to feel fond over, but he did nonetheless.

He nodded to the boy, “You’ve come at a really bad time,” he said, the smile lingering on his face for reasons unknown to him. He had no reason to smile, but it seemed as if he couldn't quite help himself, “The season’s closed, if it was summer you could have swam in it. Well, I suppose you kind of did,” he chuckled to himself, “but, you know, you could have actually swam instead of drowning.”

Jimin pursed his lips, and Yoongi couldn't help but think that it was a nice sight to see, “I’ve never swam before,” the boy mused, “Is it nice?”

Yoongi nodded again, his expression became dreamy as they properly entered the streets that were empty and only lit up by the lanterns that were hung all over the village, “Me, mama and Joonie used to go swimming all the time,” he said with a wistful tone, barely hearing the hum Jimin responded with, “When the weather was nice and the sun shined brightly. We would just pack lunch and go to the ocean, and spend the entire day there.” He scrunched up his nose, “I always got these terrible burns all over me. Mama used to say that it was because I was so pale.” He didn't know why he was telling Jimin all this, but it was rather calming to spewing out stories as the boy listened to him with a thoughtful expression, his mind fully focused on the story. Jimin was a good listener, he realised.

“It must have been nice,” Jimin mused, and there was something heavy hanging in the way he said it. It sounded somewhat like sorrow, if it wasn't longing. Yoongi didn't comment on it.

“It was,” he agreed, his eyes somewhat tearful with the memories that flooded his mind, “It truly was.”

Jimin didn't speak any more after that, and Yoongi was somewhat grateful for that. Although he wouldn't have cried— because Yoongi wouldn't cry— it wasn't the most appealing of things, talking about his mother. He loved her very much, even after her death, she was still the most important person to Yoongi. But it was hard to talk about her at times. So he was grateful for the silence. Besides, it felt natural, it wasn't forced or strained, and Yoongi didn't feel uncomfortable. Even Jimin’s silences were filled with warmth, like everything the boy seemed to do.

“It’s beautiful,” he heard Jimin whisper, and all he did was give him a hum as a response.

Yoongi woke up in his bed, his eyes blurry and hazy from the sleep that resided within them, not going away no matter how hard he rubbed them with his fists, groaning as he did so, his voice hoarse and deep. He could smell breakfast being cooked in the kitchen, and everything seemed fairly normal. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, messing it up even further. He yawned without putting a hand over his mouth to hide it. Everything was normal. He was in his bed, Seokjin was cooking breakfast, and everything was normal. No princes that lived in castles in the sky, no light balls that appeared out of thin air, no smiles that were too bright they were near blinding, no yellow hair that glistened in the dim lights of the lanterns, and surely, no blue eyes that resembled the sky. It was just him, in his bed, looking messy as usual.

He couldn't help but take his old, ragged doll Seokjin had offered to fix so many times from under his pillow, staring at it with a blank face as he unconsciously played with its yellow hair. And if he was upset, he ignored it. He ignored everything that stirred in his chest.

Jimin pushed the yellow ball forward, watching as it rolled away from him. He sighed, looking out of the window next to his seat, staring into the infinite abyss that was space, littered with planets and stars and everything in between. He watched as stars died and new ones came to life. It was a scene he was used to seeing, but it brought a smile to his face nonetheless. The stars reminded him of the humans he had visited, or rather, the human.

He closed his eyes and imagined the young man’s face behind his closed eyelids. The way he had looked with wide eyes upon learning his identity, his curious yet wary face when Jimin had created the ball of light… Yoongi was interesting, and Jimin didn't know whether he thought like that because the man was the first person he had ever met, or if it was because he had genuinely taken a liking to the human, but somehow, it felt like the latter. He wanted to return to Earth so bad, he had thought that once he had visited the Earth, it would be enough, that it would quench his thirst and longing he felt for it, but it didn't. If anything, it only made it more intense, more consuming than ever. His loneliness only got louder in the quiet castle, filling his head with emptiness. His chest felt as if it was being pressed on, a heavy pressure holding him down. He tried for it to not affect his work, and he continued doing his job of helping out around the universe, but he could feel himself slipping every now and then.

He looked around in his room that was filled with furniture, yet seemed so empty. He shivered. For the first time in his life, he was feeling cold.

Yoongi didn't want to think about it. He didn't. All he wanted to do was to forget the dream he had had, forget it and move on with his life, because that was all that it was. A dream. An illusion his mind had created to remember his mother, to somehow make her stories real. He sighed to himself and rubbed his face with a hand, crouching on the dirt by the cabbages he was supposed to pick for that night’s dinner. He let out a silent groan, barely audible, and tugged at his hair, wishing to forget everything about the young boy in his dream. With his golden hair and his bright blue eyes, his smile that could rival the sun.

Weeks followed weeks, and Yoongi started to forget about his dream. Every day, he thought about it less and less. However, when it came to his birthday, he remembered once again upon seeing the doll his father had gifted him years ago. He couldn't help but smile sadly, picking up the doll from his mattress and staring at it. The story was the only thing he had left from his mother, and the doll from his father. Aside from the house and the memories within it, there was nothing else he could hold onto. So he decided to hold onto the dream as well, if only for his mother. She wouldn't want him to stop believing in her stories after all. And even though he knew that it was just a story in the end, he let himself hope.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon called out upon entering the room without bothering to knock, sending a jolt of shock through his elder brother’s body who hid the doll behind his back. Namjoon quirked a brow at him, opening the door fully and walking in, “What are you hiding?” he asked, a playful smile on his face, “Is it something dirty? Yoongi, you shouldn't do stuff like that when me and Seokjin are home, the walls are thin.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows, “It’s nothing like that, you pervert. I’m not you.”

“What are you hiding, then?” Yoongi tried to keep the doll hidden behind his back, but Namjoon was much taller than him with longer limbs, it didn't take a lot of effort for him to grasp the doll and pull it out of his elder brother’s hands. His eyes softened upon seeing the doll, a sad smile making its way to his face, “Yoongi,” he cooed, “I didn't know you were such a softie, brother,” he half-teased.

Yoongi furrowed his brows, pulling the ragged doll away from his brother’s clutches, “It’s nothing like that,” he told him annoyedly, “It’s just that—”

Namjoon raised a hand to silence him, “It’s fine,” he said genuinely, “You don't have to explain yourself to me, brother. I understand.” Yoongi really didn't think he did, but he decided to let it go either way. “Now,” Namjoon said, clapping his hands. There was a huge grin on his face, “Jin made some amazing food, as he always does, and you have the good fortune of tasting it.” The absolutely in love tone in his voice made Yoongi want to roll his eyes at him, but he repressed it.

“Lovely,” he deadpanned, despite his bubbling excitement from being able to eat the food that resembled his mother’s cooking so much. Although it wasn't the same, Seokjin always got it impressively accurate. Maybe it was the reason as to why Namjoon had fallen for the man.

They walked out of the bedroom together, and into the kitchen where Seokjin was waiting for them, his hair swept off his forehead and a pink apron tied around his waist. There was a tired yet happy smile gracing his lips, and it almost hurt how much he looked like her. He walked over to Yoongi and gave him a tight embrace, being tall enough to place his chin on top of his head, despite having to adjust his posture a bit to do so. Yoongi wanted to roll his eyes at the man, but he couldn't find the strength in himself to do it when a quiet, “Happy birthday, Yoongi,” was whispered into his ear a second later. He smiled widely and couldn't help but hug his friend back. He certainly didn't deserve him, nor Namjoon, who walked over to them and hugged both of them to his chest. Yoongi was lucky to have them.

When they pulled back, Seokjin grabbed him by the wrist and moved him towards the dining table, where he pushed him down on the seat he had been sitting in ever since he was a child. Namjoon sat down next to him, and watched with dreamy eyes as his boyfriend walked into the kitchen to get the food. A few moments later, Seokjin returned with a pot filled with beef stew, placing it in the middle of the table and sitting down on the chair to Yoongi’s right, his mother’s chair. Yoongi couldn't find it in himself to be upset about it, it was almost as if the elder belonged in that very seat. Like it was how things had been from the very start. The sun saved the earth from darkness, water was wet, and Seokjin was supposed to sit there.

They ate whilst chatting, and although Yoongi felt the absence of his parents like he always did, it wasn't too painful.

That night, he told his friend and his brother that he would be going out to spend some time alone. Knowing that it was just him mourning after his parents while staring at the ocean, the couple decided to leave him alone, bidding him farewell at the door as Yoongi got out of it. He walked along the beach for a while, smiling to himself softly when he spotted the rocks near the shore. He all but jogged over to them, climbing on top of them the way he had been doing his entire life. It was welcoming, the scent of sea that hit his face with the oncoming breeze. He closed his eyes and welcomed the smell and the feel of the crisp sea air that surrounded him, the soft smile on his lips lingering in its place.

He let out a sigh and opened his eyes, looking at the sea with a fond expression. He breathed in deeply, taking in everything about the ocean. He imagined swimming in it once the weather got warm enough to do so, his smile taking a turn into that of sadness, despite still being etched on his face. He remembered the laughter of his mother, and how she used to look as him and Namjoon splashed water on her. His father would come over to them and hug them all in the water, only to raise his mother on his arms later on, as she laughed wholeheartedly. Despite being years upon years ago, that specific memory was so fresh in his mind that it felt as if it had happened yesterday. And maybe it had, because the ocean looked exactly the same as that day, never changing, always welcoming and beautiful, its inky surface threatening yet familiar.

He raised his gaze to the stars, “I know that you told me you don't grant wishes,” he whispered, hoping the wind would carry his voice to the non-existent castle in the sky, to the non-existent boy with hair as bright as the sun, with eyes that looked like a calm spring morning, “and I know that you’re not real, but I can't help but wish that you were. Because… well, it would make my mother’s story real, and, well, I associate you with her, I guess. It makes it seem like she isn't so… gone.” He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head, “What am I doing,” he murmured.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes again, “Jimin…”

“Yes?”

Yoongi turned around immediately to look at the source of the voice coming from behind him, only to be faced with the same young looking boy from his dream, with hair the colour of gold and eyes that pierced through him in the dim lighting of the beach. Yoongi’s breath was stuck in his throat, his chest contracted almost painfully upon seeing the boy. Had he not dreamed it after all? “Jimin…” he whispered once again, barely audible, and yet it made the boy smile.

Ignoring him, Jimin raised his hand to point at the water that hit the shore peacefully, “I didn't drop in it this time, see?” he said proudly to a still shellshocked Yoongi, “I think I miscalculated where I would appear the first time, but I’m fine now.” He grinned widely. His feet were bare once again, Yoongi wondered if the boy ever wore shoes.

“You’re here again…” Yoongi mumbled, more to himself, almost. But Jimin had heard it despite the small distance between the two of them, nodding to his words. “How?” Yoongi asked then, trying to ignore the warmth that spread across his chest upon meeting the boy once again, “You were gone for weeks, I thought, I… I thought it was all just a dream, that you were a dream, so how…”

Jimin looked confused, his short eyebrows furrowing, “Is that long?” he asked, “Time doesn't affect me the way it affects you, there are no such things as days or nights or weeks, there’s just the moment you’re in, and it is eternal. I know how days work, since I accompany the sun up in the castle, but it becomes a blur, and I do not understand how time, as you know it, flies away. I’ve never changed even a bit, but I’ve seen your world change every second. I suppose that is what you mean by it.” His expression turned soft, the ghost of a smile playing on his plush lips that looked oh so much like the clouds Yoongi liked to stare at, “I apologise, if I’ve kept you waiting for long.” There was something in his gaze, something Yoongi couldn't quite place a finger on. He cleared his throat to dissipate the awkwardly tense feel in the air, which he wasn't sure whether Jimin had caught on or not.

“You didn't make me wait,” he said firmly, “I wasn't waiting for you, I thought you were just a dream. I didn't affect me, not really,” he lied. He knew that it had affected him a lot, and now the boy in front of him was affecting him a lot. He just hoped it wasn't obvious from his face.

Jimin gave him a small smile once again, so different from the smile he had given him during their first encounter. Yoongi swallowed thickly, scratching the back of his neck. “You missed the Earth again?” he asked, earning a nod from Jimin. He pressed his lips together and licked them, “Do you want to walk around?” Jimin nodded again, but this time with a smile so bright that it seemed as if the beach wasn't so dark anymore. Yoongi swallowed thickly, cursing at the warm feeling in his chest.

Jimin visited again. And then again. One day, a few weeks later, Jimin appeared once again, right next to him on the rocks, proud of himself for spawning at an even more precise spot, “I’m not going to drown again,” he said with a grin, one that spread warmth all throughout Yoongi’s body and to the tips of his fingers.

They sat on the rocks for a long while, “Tell me about the world,” Jimin requested enthusiastically, “About what humans do for fun, how you stay alive, how you… what was is it, swim?”

Yoongi chuckled softly at this strange yet somewhat charming request, and although he wasn't someone who talked a lot normally, he found himself unable to shut up that night. He talked about Namjoon and Seokjin, and he talked about how much the two suited each other, and how they were unbearably sweet. He missed the fond expression Jimin had on his face whilst listening to him, but he heard the soft hums the boy let out every now and then. And he babbled on and on about anything and everything, from how things were at the field where he took care of the fruits and vegetables they sold to earn money and used for their meals, to the cute little kids he had seen that very day, running around and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

“Do you know what kids are?” he asked the boy sitting next to him, whose brows furrowed in endearing thoughtfulness. When it seemed as if he wasn't going to get an answer from him, Yoongi leaned back on the rocks and murmured, “Imagine tiny humans.” He chuckled at the little gasp Jimin let out.

“So, like, tiny Yoongi’s?” he asked curiously, wonder glistening in his droopy eyes.

Yoongi couldn't help but chuckle again, the sound coming out more fond than he had intended for it to, “No, not exactly.” He thought for a second, his lips pursed. He missed the way Jimin was looking at him, so full of awe and wonder, like the very children Yoongi was trying to explain to him. “Humans aren't born like how they are right now.” Jimin furrowed his brows in confusion once again. “Like, when we are born, we’re really small. About this big.” He showed the size of a new-born baby with his hands, making Jimin’s eyes widen.

“So small…” Jimin murmured, and Yoongi just smiled at him fondly. It was strange, how he had gotten so used to Jimin so quickly, finding him so endearing. Perhaps the boy had that effect on people, or perhaps, and Yoongi ignored this thought, it was him that found Jimin so endearing no matter what he did. He pushed the thought away.

He hummed, placing his hands on the rocks to lean back once again, “And we grow, and when we’re small, but not as small, we’re called kids.”

Jimin thought about it for a second, only to gain a wondering expression on his face, his eyes blown wide, “Does this mean that you were once a ‘kid’ too?” he asked curiously, and Yoongi convinced himself that anyone would find the prince adorable.

He smiled, “Yes,” he confirmed, “Humans, they were all once kids. Some of them still are. And some of us are babies, and some of us are old and wrinkly, with so many memories and knowledge. That’s how humans are.” He paused for a second, debating asking the question on his mind, “Jimin, were you never a kid?” he asked softly.

Jimin stared at his lap sadly, “No, I was born like this,” he muttered, only to furrow his brows, “I think so anyway. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember, so I do not think I was ever… tiny,” he giggled, as if the very thought of small humans were an amusing idea to him, and Yoongi knew that it actually was. He promised himself to make Jimin play with some kids one day, he knew for a fact that the boy would enjoy it.

“How are humans created?” Jimin asked all of a sudden, making Yoongi almost choke on his spit. He looked at the boy with big eyes, staring at Jimin’s that were filled with curiosity and wonder. He coughed a few times, trying to gather his line of thought.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the way his cheeks burned ever so slightly, “You see, it’s when a man and woman… uh… they love each other, and then they do some things, and the woman becomes pregnant with a baby.”

Jimin furrowed his brows again, “Can't two men love each other as well? Or two women?” he asked, confused.

Yoongi shook his head frantically, his cheeks getting warmer and warmer by the minute, “Of course they can,” he said quickly, sucking in a deep breath to try to understand what he was trying to say himself, “They can love each other. Jin and Joon love each other very much, and it’s completely fine.” He stroked the back of his neck sadly, “But they cannot have a baby together,” he murmured unhappily.

Jimin looked even more confused, “But why?” he questioned, not at all understanding what Yoongi was trying to say.

Yoongi took a deep breath to collect himself, “You see, they don't have the necessary organs to have a baby together. Only a man and a woman can have a baby from their own blood, as sad as it is. But two men can still be fathers!” he added quickly, the corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly, “You don't have to give birth to a baby to be its parent, all you need to do is give it love and help it grow. That, makes you a parent,” he mumbled as he smiled to himself fondly, “My parents weren't my blood parents as well, but they were still my parents. More so than the people who gave birth to me.”

Jimin cocked his head to the side, and Yoongi was suddenly hit by how bone crushingly fond he felt of the boy, “Where are your parents, Yoongi?” he asked gently, and although Yoongi knew that he didn't mean anything bad by the question, it still hurt.

“They died,” he replied, much too coldly for the emotions that were stirring in his chest, “Do you know what death is, Jimin?” he asked him, somewhat curiously.

Jimin, surprising him, nodded his head, looking up at the inky sky that was like a dark blanket over their heads, “Stars die all the time,” he mumbled. After a second, surprising Yoongi even more, Jimin grabbed his hand. His small hand was so warm and fit Yoongi’s so well that an overwhelming wave went through Yoongi’s entire body, “And I know that humans die, because that’s how stars are made,” he mumbled softly, staring straight at Yoongi with heavy eyes. Yoongi couldn't help but gulp, almost pinned underneath the prince’s gaze.

“What do you mean?” he asked him, his voice rather weak. Jimin gave him a soft smile, turning his gaze towards the sky once again, sparing Yoongi from how breathtaking and chest contracting it was. He could barely breathe, and Jimin’s hand was warm in his, so very warm.

“When people die, the stardust in their blood turns them into actual stars,” he explained with a gentle tone, “And when stars die, they become something else entirely, and when that something else dies, it becomes a star once again. It is the endless circle that is life and the universe, always returning to the same point, but also ever changing.” He turned to look at Yoongi, who was looking at him with awe ridden eyes, and for a second, it seemed as if Jimin’s eyes contained more stars than the sky. “Your parents are up there, Yoongi,” the boy said, all but whispering, his breath fanning Yoongi’s cheeks because of the close proximity between their faces. Yoongi could count the freckles on the boy’s cheeks that were more like the stars in his eyes, “They shine brightly, and they look over you.” His face suddenly distorted with a frown, a rather panicked one, “Yoongi, why are you crying?” he asked, and he almost sounded scared. When Yoongi raised a hand to his face, he was met with wetness on his cheeks. And despite the tears that leaked from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, he laughed, never feeling more full and deflated at the same time.

“Jimin,” he said, smiling at the boy, “Do you want to swim?”

He ignored the twinge of pain in his chest when Jimin smiled brightly and nodded his head, just getting off of the rocks, his hand still holding onto Jimin’s as he did so. He told him to strip, and although Jimin made a confused face at the strange request, he took of his clothes, not facing Yoongi, who was also busy stripping down to his underwear. However, when he turned around, he saw Jimin standing right there, butt naked. He quickly covered his eyes, shrieking more than asking why Jimin wasn't wearing any underwear, at which the prince quirked a brow.

“Why would I wear clothes beneath my clothes?” he asked confusedly. Yoongi tried to come up with an answer to that, but everything humans did started seeming stupid as he tried to explain them to Jimin. So he let go of it, reluctantly taking the boy’s hand in his and directing him towards the cold water, trying his very best to not look at the boy’s lower half, although his eyes couldn't help but glide down toned arms and prominent collarbones, to a solid chest and firm stomach. He wondered how Jimin could look so much like a god, before he realised that he, technically, was a god. He didn't know whether he should be impressed or overwhelmed by the thought.

He held back the squeal that threatened to fall from between his lips when the cold waves touched his toes, and he couldn't help but be annoyed at how little it was affecting Jimin, who was so warm that Yoongi wondered if he even felt the cold. But his annoyance dissipated when he saw the awed expression on Jimin’s face, the stars had returned to his eyes. And Yoongi didn't have to forcefully pry his eyes away from the boy’s lower half right then, as his gaze was focused on his expression instead. His plush lips were agape with wonder, and his eyes that seemed to contain the entire universe in them, had expanded to the size of the sun. If Yoongi looked close enough, he could swear there was a slight blush on Jimin’s full cheeks.

He couldn't help but chuckle as he stared at the awe struck expression on Jimin’s face with a fond smile, “What has got you so amazed? You’ve been in water before,” he teased, reminding him about the first time they had met. Jimin turned to look at Yoongi, his expression taking an unimpressed turn, and yet not losing the stars in his eyes. His plush lips became pouty.

“I almost drowned that time,” he reminded, “It wasn't very fun.”

Yoongi couldn't help but chuckle at him, and he missed the fond smile Jimin gave him in return. His gaze was locked on the water ahead, his lips pulled into a soft smile of their own. However, before he could understand what was happening, he was suddenly pulled into the ice cold water, Jimin’s giggles ahead of him. He cursed loudly as his lower body was completely submerged in the water, freezing him. He was shaking with his entire body as the cold worked into bones, making his teeth clatter. In front of him, Jimin was giggling wholeheartedly, not at all bothered by the cold that surrounded them. It seemed as if the only part of Yoongi’s body that wasn't freezing was his hand that was still holding onto Jimin’s as if his life depended on it.

Jimin stopped giggling and looked at him with furrowed brows, “You’re cold?” he asked, to which Yoongi answered by glaring at him and nodding. Jimin stood there for a second, his hand in Yoongi’s, before he pulled him by it so forcefully that the boy crashed into his chest, letting out a yelp. Jimin wrapped his arms around him, and he was immediately submerged in warmth. He couldn't help but let out a sigh, forgetting to think about how strange this should feel. It wasn't strange, not one bit. It seemed only natural, like how Seokjin belonged to his mother’s seat, Yoongi belonged to Jimin’s chest. It was as if his body had been created the way it was just to that he could fit like a puzzle piece with Jimin’s firm chest. He closed his eyes and let the warmth take over him.

They stood there for what seemed like eternity, not swimming, not moving, just hugging whilst their bodies were submerged in the icy water. Jimin didn't let go of Yoongi, and Yoongi— frightfully— realised that he didn't want him to let him go. He told himself that it was because Jimin was so warm, but a voice at the back of his head called him a liar. Maybe he was a liar after all.

And when Jimin disappeared into the thin air, leaving Yoongi on the beach, Yoongi told himself that it wasn't sorrow that he was feeling.

Jimin came back a two weeks later, and all Yoongi could do was smile at him brightly upon spotting him right next to the rocks. And he came back again. And again. And again. Yoongi would be lying if he said that he didn't wait the boy’s arrival every night after one point, spending more time in the slowly warming beach than in his own bed. But it was worth it, especially when he got to see the beautiful grin Jimin greeted him with. And he tried to ignore the constantly warming feeling, like that of the weather, in his chest. He ignored missing Jimin’s warmth once the dawn came, and he ignored how the ocean seemed more dull without the presence of Jimin. He ignored it all, but he couldn't ignore how he started smiling more, neither could his friends. Maybe he did smile more, whether because of seeing the boy who had now become his friend, or maybe because of the knowledge that he knew of Jimin’s existence, because he knew that the person he had once deemed non-existent, was real.

“What’s that?”

“That’s a cat, Jiminie.”

“A cat?”

Yoongi hummed.

Jimin cocked his head to the side as he hesitantly called the feline over to himself. The cat with the white fur meowed as it strolled towards him. His eyes were wide and full of wonder as it nuzzled his hand, burying its nose in his palm in a silent plea to be petted. Jimin looked up at Yoongi to see if he was doing anything wrong, only to be faced with the boy looking at him with a fond smile. He felt his cheeks burn.

The cat didn't leave their side the entire night.

Jimin had too much love in his heart, that was for sure. He loved a lot of things, and he longed for a lot of things. He loved and missed the sun and the way she smiled and warmed up wherever she stood. He loved and missed the Earth, he loved and missed Yoongi. He didn't know whether that was because the boy represented the Earth to him, but he missed him nonetheless. It was curious, really, how attached he had gotten to a human so quickly.

There was a new room in the castle, one which he wasn't sure if it had existed all this time, or had been created newly just for him. The new room looked over the ocean, the horizon and the surface of the water melting together further away from him, clouds that were so close to the water that it looked as if they were touching, like two lovers who were reluctant and shy, but couldn't keep away from one and another. The sky was clear and beautiful as always, filling him with tranquility as he stared up at it. He smiled to himself, it was as if he was on the surface of the Earth once again. But he wasn't. The thought churned something deep within his stomach. He wasn't on the Earth, he wasn't with Yoongi. He curled into himself, listening to the calming sounds of the waves hitting the shore that seemed so close yet so far, looking like it was just out of his reach. He didn't know where this beach was, but it wasn't home. He couldn't see the rocks beneath his feet as he dangled them over the edge, knowing that he couldn't possibly fall. There was no village, no lanterns that illuminated the dark. It wasn't night, and this beach wasn't home. It was devoid of the life he longed for, it was devoid of Yoongi.

He tilted his head sideways and rested it against the wall, closing his eyes and letting the sounds of the waves take him to a place he would much rather be.

Spring brought the life back to the earth, with blooming flowers and the grass that had woken up, so green that it looked almost as if someone had painted it. Yoongi took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He wondered what Jimin was doing. It had been a few weeks since he had last seen the boy, since Jimin had last promised him to return. As if the boy had heard his thoughts, a gentle breeze caressed his cheek, and Yoongi almost leaned into it. He opened his eyes and stared at the sun with squinted eyes, imagining her rays of light as the wavy blonde locks of a certain boy he knew. The clouds that were plush and soft looking like the boy’s lips, the beautiful sky that resembled his eyes. Yoongi thought that Jimin’s eyes were more beautiful than the sky.

Yoongi pulled his boots to his feet, ready to wait for Jimin once again, ready to wait for hours upon hours with the hope that maybe, maybe the boy would appear that night. He tried to ignore the hope that was blooming in his chest, he didn't want it to be crushed like a mere bug once again, he didn't want to return home without seeing Jimin again, his eyelids heavy and his heart empty and hollow. He closed his eyes and wished, with his entire being, that he would be there. As he was standing in front of the open door, he looked up at the stars to look for hope in them, taking their blinking and twinkling as a sign.

“Yoongi?” He turned around upon hearing Namjoon’s voice, seeing his little brother right behind him with furrowed brows, “What are you doing?” the boy questioned.

“Nothing, just going out for a walk,” he lied, hoping that it wasn't too obvious. Namjoon was the only one who could tell when he was lying— aside from Seokjin. He just hoped his poker face had gotten better.

Namjoon pressed his lips together, it was obvious that he wasn't buying it, “Yoongi, don't lie to me,” he mumbled, his tone more sad than anything. Something twisted in Yoongi’s chest. “You’ve been sneaking out every night, haven't you? Yoongi, where are you going all the time, what are you even doing, not coming home for hours? I’m your brother, why are you keeping secrets like this from me?”

Yoongi wanted to tell him everything at that moment, Namjoon, although not by blood, was his brother, his family. But he knew that this wasn't something he could just share, so he bit his lip and casted his gaze down, “You wouldn't understand,” he murmured, not knowing whether he actually thought of that as true or if he was just trying to find an escape. Both, he thought.

“Try me,” Namjoon replied, crossing his arms over his chest with a stern expression on his face.

Yoongi couldn't look at his face, this was one of the rare times where he couldn't face Namjoon, “I can't tell you, Joonie,” he said ashamedly, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon huffed out in annoyance, “I know what this is,” he mumbled, more to himself than Yoongi, who raised his gaze to look at him with furrowed brows, because he really doubted it.

Namjoon’s lips were pressed together before he spoke, “You’re talking to her, aren't you?” he asked, and something about his tone sounded so broken and so sad that Yoongi felt taken aback by it, “You’re talking to mom, but you need to realise that she’s dead, Yoongi. She can't hear you.”

Ire raised in Yoongi’s throat like bile, painting his vision red immediately, “She can hear me!” he suddenly yelled, surprising both himself and Namjoon with his raised voice, “You don't understand, she’s there and she can hear me! I know that she can!”

“How the hell can you know?!” Namjoon shouted back, and Yoongi almost flinched. Almost. “She died years ago, Yoongi, she’s six feet underground, how can she hear you? Quit believing things like this, I’m begging you. It is unhealthy, brother. You need to come to your senses, please. You need to realise that we cannot believe things like this anymore.” His tone was so, so sad. Yoongi knew what was wrong with his brother he loved so much, the boy couldn't believe anymore. He was just like how Yoongi had been before meeting Jimin. He could see himself in his younger brother, who looked just as insecure and desperate as he had looked when they were young. He wanted to show him everything, show him what he was missing by not believing, not hoping.

“She can hear me,” he insisted sternly, he knew that he was acting like a child, but he didn't care. For years, he had pushed his childish side aside, the side that told him that anything was possible, the side that believed in wishes. He had spent too long not believing, not hoping, “She can hear us, Namjoon, I know so.”

“How do you know?!” Namjoon yelled again, his face contorted with pain, “You don't know it! She’s dead!”

“Jimin told me so!” Yoongi yelled, only to realise what he had said a second later, his eyes growing to the size of saucers. Namjoon was looking at him with furrowed brows again, the cogs in his head turning to figure out who this ‘Jimin’ was.

“Jimin?” he asked, “Is this ‘Jimin’ who you’re spending your time with every night? Yoongi, what is he doing to you? What is between you two? Who is he?”

“He’s not doing anything to me!” Yoongi didn't know why he was getting defensive all of a sudden, but the mere mention of Jimin possibly doing something to him was enough to get his blood boiling, “He’s the prince in the sky, the one that takes care of the sun and the stars!”

Namjoon’s features contorted with what seemed like a mix between disappointment and disbelief, he looked at his brother as if he was crazy, “Yoongi, no,” he mumbled as he shook his head, reaching forward to grab his brother, “He’s not real, brother. He is just a character out of the story mother used to tell us, he isn't real.”

That’s when Seokjin got out of the room, blurry eyed and messy haired, “Joonie, what’s going on?” he asked with a raspy voice, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “What is it with all this yelli—”

Yoongi’s heart twisted in his ribcage once again. Namjoon was wrong, “He is real!” he yelled pathetically, ignoring the very existence of Seokjin, who flinched, looking at him with wide eyes.

“He is not,” Namjoon said once again, and his tone was soft, as if he was afraid Yoongi would break any moment, “You think he is, because he is one of the biggest things you associate with mother, okay? He is not real, brother. He is a mere illusion, your brain is playing tricks on you.” He took a step forward, reaching for his brother whose eyes were filled with tears and his body shaking like a leaf. He could only imagine how pathetic he must look. “Please, just come in, okay? We can talk this out with a cup of tea and everything will be just fine.”

As Namjoon got closer, alarms started ringing in Yoongi’s head, “N-no!” he yelled, taking a step back, “He is real, he is!” and with that, he turned around and sprinted out of the door and towards the beach, barely hearing his name being called out.

He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like jello, but he didn't stop. The rocks were just a big ahead, and he continued running until he reached them. He leaned on them to catch his breath, his head filled with voices that refused to shut up, his heart beating so fast in his ribcage that he was surprised it hadn't jumped straight out of it yet. He was out of breath, and his eyes burned as if torches had been held against them, his pulse loud and clear in his ears as he heaved and panted.

“He is real,” he mumbled to himself, his brother’s words not leaving his head as he tugged on strands of hair, “He is, he is! Jimin… Jiminie…” he silently cried, begging for the boy to appear out of thin air right then and there. “Jiminie…”

“Yes?” he heard the voice that was like the sound of bells right in front of him, giggles laced into it. He raised his head to look at the boy with the golden hair with wide eyes, tear tracks running down his cheeks. Jimin’s smile immediately disappeared among spotting the tears on his face. His eyes— his beautiful, beautiful eyes— became as large as the sun, and he ran to him, placing his hands first on his shoulders then his face, “Yoongi?” he called his name, panicked, and it sounded so beautiful coming out of his mouth that Yoongi almost started crying once again, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Yoongi’s shoulders started shaking even harder when his sobs became more intense, his buried his nose into Jimin’s palm that was very much real, so real and so warm against his skin. It was so soft, and it was so him. Yoongi took a deep, shaky breath, relishing in the warmth that spread through his very body with the mere touch of the boy’s hand. “You’re real,” he murmured into his palm, his words coming out mostly muffled, “You’re real, aren't you, Jiminie? I didn't imagine you, right? You’re real, right?”

Jimin furrowed his brows as he looked at him, his confusion very obvious from his expression, “Yes, Yoongi. Yes, I am real. Is that why you are crying?”

Yoongi took a deep breath again, one that was cut short by the sob that broke through his chest, “You’re real, I didn't just imagine you,” he said, more to himself, “You’re real, you are. I didn't create you, you really do exist, I—”

“Yoongi,” Jimin cut him off, brushing his tears away with his thumbs, “Yoongi, look at me,” he mumbled quietly, making the boy quiet down and look at him with huge, sad eyes. With eyes that were filled with so much hope, and yet so much confusion, “I am as real as real gets, okay? I promise you.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips, and he gulped. Jimin didn't understand what was happening until Yoongi held his face gently between his two hands and was leaning in slowly, and all of a sudden, he found a set of chapped lips, pressed against his own. Yoongi’s eyes were closed, and his lips tasted like salty tears. Jimin didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to react, but it just felt right. It felt as if this was exactly what was meant to be, like how the world had been created. It felt as if he had been created just to kiss Yoongi.

It was over far earlier than he wanted it to be, and Yoongi was pulling away ever so slightly, pressing his forehead against Jimin’s with heavy eyes, his eyelids drooping. He stroked the boy’s cheeks with his thumbs, “You really are real,” he whispered, and Jimin felt his breath against his lips. It was so surreal, to be surrounded with Yoongi, his smell, his warmth, just him. Jimin leaned in and closed the gap between the two of them once again, relishing in the feeling of Yoongi’s lips against his own. Feelings he had never experienced before were blooming deep within his chest, stars behind his closed eyelids. Yoongi’s slender hands on his cheeks, stroking the delicate skin as he pressed kiss upon kiss on the prince’s lips, and Jimin felt as if he was about to burst.

Yoongi pulled back, there were still tears clinging to his eyelashes. He pulled his hands away from Jimin’s cheeks to hold onto his hands that were cupping his face lightly, covering the prince’s rather small ones. He casted his gaze down, staring straight at the sand that was covering his boots, when he felt the same set of lips he had been kissing a moment ago on his forehead, a gentle pressure, barely there. He let out a quivering breath of relief and tranquility as Jimin kissed his forehead, relishing in the feel of velvet like lips on his skin, so warm and so calming that he felt his soul settle down. He closed his eyes to let the very last teardrops roll down his cheeks, holding onto Jimin’s hands as if the boy would slip away from his grip if his hold wasn't tight enough. And maybe he would, maybe Yoongi would lose him as soon as his hands left Jimin’s. Maybe he wouldn't see him for weeks again, or maybe ever. The very thought was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“I’m here,” he heard Jimin whisper against his forehead, his breath tickling his skin. He was very much real, Yoongi knew it. He had to be. His shoulders shook with tearless sobs, but they weren't filled with sorrow like they had been mere minutes ago. He could finally understand what his mother had meant by saying that not all tears were born from sadness.

Jimin pulled him close and held him tight against his chest in the darkness, where their identities were hidden by the secrecy of the night, the only witnesses being the stars that winked at them from above their heads. And Yoongi felt peaceful, he could feel it running through his veins and blooming on every part of his skin that was touched by Jimin. Warmth, he felt warmth all over, licking his skin and seeping into his body. He hugged Jimin closer, impossibly so, until there was no space to even breathe between them, and yet Yoongi wanted to be closer, so close that they were one. He nosed at the boy’s temple and pressed his lips to the golden locks, kissing them softly. Much to his disappointment, Jimin pulled away slightly to look at him in the eye, and Yoongi could faintly see a blush settled on his cheeks. Truly, the boy was breathtaking in every aspect. Yoongi’s heart all but skipped a beat.

Jimin caressed his cheek, his gaze dropping to the boy’s lips but being pried away soon after as if he could barely look away from them, as if he wanted to desperately to close the distance between them once again but was forcing himself to hold back. Yoongi didn't understand what for, all he wanted to do was to feel those velvety lips against his own once again, be enveloped by the warmth that the boy emitted.

Jimin continued stroking his cheek, “Are you going to tell me what happened?” he whispered, his tone non-demanding and patient. Yoongi just closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of the warmth against his cheeks for a few seconds later before he spoke.

He let out a deep, quivering breath, “Joonie… he said, he said that- that you weren't real, and I… I don't know, for a second, I…”

“You believed him?” Jimin’s face was so non-judgemental, and so caring that Yoongi wanted to cry all over again, “Is that why you were crying, love?” A shiver went down Yoongi’s spine at the pet name. Love.

“He was so convincing,” he couldn't help but whimper, he felt pathetic, weak. Everything he didn't want the boy to see him as, and yet Jimin was staring at him like he didn't mind any of those, like he adored even the worst possible version of Yoongi. The thought was overwhelming as it was endearing. “He said that I was only imagining you because of mother, and I- I knew that he was wrong, I did, but… there was just a tiny voice in my head that kept offering the idea that maybe he was right.” He pulled his gaze up to make eye contact with Jimin, seeing nothing other than warmth in his eyes, “But I know that he’s wrong now. You’re real,” he whispered, his voice reserved only for Jimin. His heart fluttered in his chest when the boy smiled at him fondly.

“I am,” Jimin agreed, his small smile breaking out into a full grin, so bright that Yoongi felt as if they didn't need to stars to illuminate the night, as Jimin was enough by himself. His smile was all but contagious, bringing a smile onto Yoongi’s chapped lips as well.

He buried his nose in Jimin’s neck once the boy pulled him close once again, just hugging him with a comfortable silence hanging between them, only being broken by the sound of the waves crashing into the shore. The warm spring breeze licked their faces, tousling their hair. Jimin never let go, even as the strength in Yoongi’s body gave out and they had to sit on the sand with Yoongi’s head propped on Jimin’s shoulder. He held onto the boy’s body that was limp with sleep, his arm thrown over his shoulders and hugging him close to keep him warm.

Yoongi had a dream that night, of himself standing on the surface of water, walking as if it was solid. His feet were bare, and he could hear wet splashing noises as he took step upon step. He was standing right beneath the starry night, it seemed as if there were more twinkling lights in the sky than normal, illuminating everything with their pale gleam. The horizon was nonexistent, all he could see was the inky colour of the darkness ahead of him, no line to divide the sky from the water. It seemed to melt into one, mixing into an image of pure black.

All of a sudden, someone appeared. Someone with blonde hair and a short structure, their back facing Yoongi. He knew who it was immediately, there was no one else in the universe with that hair colour, so bright and gleaming like gold in the weak light. He tried to call out his name, but no sound came out of his mouth. However, the boy turned around nevertheless, grinning at him like he had heard him just fine. His smile was so bright that it turned the night into the morning.

When Yoongi woke up to the first rays of sun shining in his face, the world was only barely lit up and still awakening. He was laying down on the cool sand of the beach, and the first thing he noticed was the slight weight on his body. Not enough to cause any discomfort, but a weight nevertheless. He realised that it was a shirt, draped over his shoulders, still warm from its previous bearer. The second thing he noticed was the feeling of warmth on his cheek, the slight tingling feeling of lips against his skin lingering there. He blushed, ashamedly pulling the shirt close to his face and inhaling the scent of the boy he was already missing. It smelled like warmth and the ocean.

It was hard to keep an eye on the stars, it was hard to watch the universe when the same thought was replayed in his head again and again, when can I see him again? Jimin was filled with a kind of longing he had never felt before, a longing that made his heart ache so bad that he thought he couldn't breathe. It felt almost absurd now that the longing he had felt for the Earth had seemed heart shattering, when this was so much worse that he didn't know how to do his job. He felt the ghost of Yoongi’s lips against his own, his non-existent breath fanning his cheeks. He could still taste in his mouth how Yoongi had tasted, how his salty tears were mixed with something that was distinctively him. He pressed his fingers against his lips to recreate the warmth he had felt, but it was nothing but a mere failed attempt at solacing himself.

He never left the room that faced the ocean, albeit knowing that it wasn't there, that it wasn't home. It brought the slightest of comfort to him, and he welcomed it with open arms, desperate for something to ease the pain deep within his chest. The pain of longing for Yoongi, the pain of not knowing when he would return home, when he would return to the arms of his beloved. The dull pain in his chest kept reminding him that he was alone, in his castle, with no Yoongi in the sight. He wanted to hug him again, he wanted the peacefulness of Yoongi sleeping atop of him. He cried for the first time in his whole life, tears rolling down his cheeks and sobs breaking through his chest, mixing into the silence of the endless void.

Yoongi almost shivered as he waited at the beach, the warming weather not making it unbearably cold but crisp nonetheless, the slight, sly coldness of the night seeping through his skin and into his bones. He hugged Jimin’s shirt close to his chest, burying his nose and being surrounded in the warmth immediately as if a spell had been casted on it. It was starting to lose Jimin’s scent by then, the warmth going with it, although there was still the hint of it clinging onto the cloth, much to his content. He looked at the stars as he waited, clinging onto the shirt like his life depended on it. He wished with his entire heart that the boy would return that night, that he could finally see him again.

He had woken up with the shirt he was clinging onto draped over his shoulders that day, when he had last seen Jimin, the only proof of their encounter being the shirt itself and the lingering sensation on his cheek. He pressed a hand against it, it was almost as if he could still feel firm, velvety lips against his skin. He breathed out a sigh, fluttering his eyes shut. He could do nothing but hold onto the hope that Jimin would return, and hug the piece of clothing to his chest.

“Yoongi?” He turned around as soon as he heard his name coming from the mouth of the one he had been longing for. He raised to his feet and all but threw himself at the boy with the golden hair, hearing giggles that were mixed with sobs come out of his mouth that was buried in the crook of his neck. Jimin hugged him so tightly that Yoongi felt as if he couldn't breathe, he felt his shirt getting drenched with the tears the boy shed. “I missed you,” was all the boy whispered against the wet fabric for a while.

Yoongi pulled back to cup his face with gentle hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin as a fond smile found its place on his lips. He gently brought his face closer to himself and connected their lips wordlessly, having missed the velvety feel for far too long, and he knew that the boy wasn't any different from how eagerly he kissed him back, placing his hands on top of Yoongi’s. It was chaste and soft, filled with nothing but pure and innocent love. Yoongi felt his toes curl at the sensation, and he wondered if this was what Namjoon and Seokjin felt when they kissed each other. If so, Yoongi didn't know how they managed to let go of each other. He had never felt such intensity from barely kissing someone, he had never felt his heart burst and then stitch up to burst once again.

Jimin broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Yoongi’s, his breathing heavy, “I missed you,” he murmured again, and all Yoongi could do was hum agreeingly, “I missed you so much.”

Yoongi leaned in to press a quick kiss to the boy’s top lip, “You’re here now,” he whispered, it was as if he spoke louder, the moment would be broken. So he kept his voice low, reserved only for the boy with the golden hair, the boy his heart beat so rapidly in his ribcage for, “Holy sun, you really are here. You really came back.”

He heard Jimin exhale through his nose in a form of a laugh, “Of course I did,” he whispered back, “I’ll always come back.”

It hurt to leave Yoongi every single time. It never got easier, dealing with the pain piercing through his lungs and his heart as he looked upon the boy’s unreadable expression for one last time, before he vanished off the face of Earth and left his beloved on the planet. He cried every time he was back in the now prison like castle, the place that was supposed to be his home but felt as if it was trapping him in between its walls instead. He cried until he couldn't anymore, until the tears stopped rolling down his cheeks, until his face was blotchy and his eyes were swollen and red. He didn't know what Yoongi felt, he couldn't even imagine how much sorrow he must be in, not seeing his lover in weeks upon weeks. For Jimin, time didn't exist. He missed Yoongi all the time, he missed him within the moment that was infinite, the moment that stretched out to eternity like space itself did. But he knew that time existed within Earth, and he remembered Yoongi saying that he was gone for long periods of time. His heart twisted and turned with the guilt of leaving his beloved alone for so long, for not being able to see him.

Yoongi walked through the busy streets of the village, the sound of life surrounding him in the form of children’s laughter and people’s chattering, the sound of stray dogs and cats coming from a corner of the street every now and then. He needed to distract himself, from the feeling of Jimin’s lips he missed so much, from the memories of them on the beach countless times. He shoved his hands into his pockets, dragging his feet ever so slightly as he walked. It had been over two weeks since he had last seen the boy with the blonde hair, since he had last kissed him, hugged him whilst crying.

He turned his head to be faced with a group of children playing hopscotch in the far corner of the busy street, laughter emitting from them. Yoongi’s heart ached with longing for the one he seeked, the one he missed so much. He didn't know how he had become so attached to the boy so quickly, but it was as if he couldn't breathe without the presence of him now. It felt wrong, as if he could only eat, drink, sleep, or do anything human with Jimin by his side.

He walked away from the main street of the village, the sight of the children getting too much. His feet walked him towards the beach no matter how much he knew it would hurt to be there without Jimin, but it comforted him, reminded him that he would be back. Because Jimin had promised to be back, and Yoongi believed him with his entire heart, no drop of doubt in his words. He knew that he would be back, he just knew it deep within his heart.

Jimin came back, and Yoongi’s heart was soaring once again.

“Wait here,” he told his lover after pecking his lips for one last time, “I have something planned.” Jimin’s eyes shone so brightly that for a second, Yoongi forgot how to breathe. He was so beautiful, it made his chest contract and heart twist within his ribcage. Jimin raised his chin slightly to reach Yoongi who was crouched over him, pecking his lips fondly

“Don't be long,” he said with a soft tone, eyes filled to the brim with emotion, “I’ve missed you for too long.” All Yoongi could do to respond was taking his hands into his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze, nodding his head. Letting go of those warm hands were the hardest thing he could possibly imagine to do, but he had to get the things he had prepared in weeks advance, as he had waited for the arrival of his beloved. His heart thrummed in his chest as he ran as fast as he possibly could, tripping on the sand every now and then from the apparent hurry he was in.

He sneaked into the house, not wanting to wake Namjoon and Seokjin. Him and his brother were still tiptoeing around each other, neither wanting to address the discomfort that hung heavy in the air whenever the two brothers were in the same room. Although they spoke to each other through the weeks upon weeks since their mishap, Yoongi could see the unknowing and downright pitying glances his younger brother sent his way. He hated it, hated not being able to tell him that no, Jimin was real, and he was very much in love with him. He wanted them to meet, if only for the tension between them to dissipate. But he knew that he couldn't, it was unthinkable, making someone else aware of Jimin’s existence. Although the boy himself had never particularly been against the idea vocally, Yoongi still didn't think it would be a good idea. Maybe he was just selfish.

The kitchen was dark and quiet as he gathered the food from the pantry and placed them into the bag he had hidden underneath the table, a woolen blanket already stuffed into it. He was busy taking out some wine when he heard a rustling near the doorsill, freezing in his spot and listened for more.

“Yoongi?” Seokjin’s voice was filled with sleep as he spoke, clearly barely awake and functioning. When Yoongi turned around, he saw the elder with a candle in his hand, his eyes swollen shut with sleep and his hair a mess. “What are you doing?” the man asked, furrowing his brows.

Before Yoongi could answer— most likely stuttering as he spewed out excuses— Seokjin’s eyes trailed down to the bag in his hands and the food he was trying to sneak into it. He all but stared blankly for a few seconds, before he wordlessly walked over to him and picked out some cheese from the pantry, “This is good, I bought it yesterday from that woman down the street. He would enjoy it.”

Yoongi looked at him confusedly, “He?” he questioned.

Seokjin paused, turning to him with a fond smile that was only visible because of the candle light, “You’re taking this to your sweetheart, are you not?” he asked, his tone far from judging. It sounded warm, and Yoongi felt as if he could burst into tears, “Jimin, was it?”

Yoongi nodded, pressing his lips together, “You believe me?” he asked, albeit rather hesitantly. After what Namjoon had said about him, he couldn't trust people easily when it came to Jimin. But Seokjin was just smiling softly like he always did.

“I do,” he confirmed, his tone gentle, “Me and Namjoon were once like you, sneaking out in the unholy hours of the night for a few hours just to see each other, just to be together for a while.” His smiled fondly, “My parents were never really accepting of Joonie, they had always wanted me to marry someone rich, you know. Someone who could take care of me.” Yoongi nodded, he had heard this story before, and he had been there to take care of Seokjin along with Namjoon countless times. “I don't know what I would have done without him, and you, of course. When my parents died, I had no one left. You two were— and still are— my entire world, Yoongi. I don't want either of you to be unhappy, ever.” He let out a sigh, “So, although he’s an idiot, I beg you, please make up with Joonie properly. He has been so down, and I can see that it’s taking a toll on you as well. He doesn't see the love you have for that boy, but you can make him see, I know it.”

Yoongi pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows, thoughtful. He knew that the elder was right, and he was aware that the uncomfortable air that surrounded the house was almost suffocating. If anything, Seokjin didn't deserve living in a place like that, so he casted his eyes down and silently nodded. He heard Seokjin exhale through his nose as he smiled, “Thank you,” the man muttered, and Yoongi nodded again. Seokjin placed some bread in his bag androse to his feet along with his friend, “Don't keep him waiting,” he said with a warm smile.

Yoongi nodded, a determined expression gracing his features, before he sprinted out of the door towards the beach, Seokjin’s words pushed to the corner of his mind to busy itself with thoughts of his lover instead, butterflies appearing within his stomach simultaneously.

Jimin was still staring at the sky, leaning back on his hands on top of the rocks, his chin tilted upwards, his gaze full of wonder. Yoongi stopped to look at him for a few seconds, taking in his breathtaking beauty, admiring the way he looked at anything and everything on the face of earth with awe and astonishment. His heart skipped a beat upon gazing at his beauty, so out of the world and so seemingly out of reach, yet familiar and, like everything else that the boy was, warm. So very warm that it had managed to melt the ice around Yoongi’s heart. He couldn't help but smile, because that’s what Jimin did to him. He made him smile, made him think of nothing but happy thoughts, of a future in which he was secure and, of course, warm.

He slowly walked towards him, the boy’s ears picked up the sound of his footsteps that were somewhat muffled by the sand, and he turned his body around to look at him with a fond smile, “You’re late,” he murmured, his tone that of love and fondness, making Yoongi melt all the more.

He walked closer to him, setting the bag on the floor and placing his hands on the top of the rocks by Jimin’s hips, their faces inches apart, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes all but boring holes into Jimin’s, the prince’s gaze just as intense, “Got caught up on something.”

Jimin hummed quietly, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Yoongi’s hair, making the boy let out a content sigh as he ran them through the strands gently. Yoongi all but pushed his head into Jimin’s touch, liking the attention he was getting. He opened his eyes when Jimin giggled, “You’re like a cat,” the boy murmured, a playful, yet endearing smile tugging at the corners of his full lips. Yoongi quirked a brow at him. Jimin shrugged, “You’re cute,” he whispered playfully.

Yoongi stared into his eyes for a few moments, almost challenging him, earning nothing but a stubborn and unwinding gaze back. So he shook his head as he chuckled, his hand moved to caress the boy’s knuckles. “I brought something,” he then said, pushing himself off the rocks, much to Jimin’s displeasure that was evident from the way his lips formed into a pout. He smiled and pecked the boy on his pouty lips, “It’s something nice,” he promised, earning a sigh and a nod from Jimin.

The prince jumped down from the rocks as well, his eyes now focused on the bag that sat on the sand, “What’s that?” he asked curiously, his brows raised to his hairline.

Yoongi grinned nervously, “You’ll see,” he said, hoping the boy would like his little surprise, “Close your eyes, I want this to be a surprise.”

Jimin did so, albeit rather hesitant and annoyed at first. As Yoongi was opening the bag, he saw the crack between Jimin’s fingers, the boy peeking through. He slapped his thigh, earning a surprised squeak, “Don't look, space boy,” he scolded, making Jimin mutter something to himself but close the crack between his fingers nonetheless. He stared at his lover for a few seconds as if to check whether he really wasn't looking or not, before he deemed it enough and got back to his work. He pulled out the blanket first, laying it out on the sand. He took out the wine and the cups he had brought, the food coming in last. Once everything was placed on the blanket neatly enough, he coughed uncomfortably and poked Jimin in the thigh, “You can look now,” he murmured.

When Jimin uncovered his eyes, his first reaction seemed to be surprise, followed by confusion. Yoongi was gnawing on his bottom lip, not knowing whether Jimin would find it unnecessary. He followed the boy’s gaze to the quickly arranged picnic on the ground, only to realise that he had missed something. “Hold on,” he told the boy, quickly dipping his hands into the bag once more to pull out two candles out of it, along with a box of matches. Jimin watched as Yoongi placed the candles in the middle of the blanket, lighting them up, “This is so dangerous, but it’s romantic, right?” When he turned to face Jimin, he found the boy’s eyes large and filled to the brim with something. For a second, he wondered whether this had been a bad idea after all, but that idea was wiped away as soon as it had intruded his mind, as Jimin all but flung himself to the boy seated on the ground, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. Yoongi breathed out a laugh and snaked his own arms around the boy’s tiny waist, hugging him back.

“It is romantic,” Jimin giggled, pulling back to kiss him on the lips. He pulled back after a few seconds, his eyes now shining with the light emitted from the candles, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

They sat there on the blanket, feeding each other and giggling at the stupidest things underneath the pale light of the stars, their hearts light and content, their laughter hushed, reserved for one another, their chests burning up with the love and affection they felt within their hearts. Yoongi watched with fond eyes as Jimin took a sip from the wine, breaking into a huge smile when his lover scrunched up his nose with apparent disgust. But as he took another sip, and then another, and then another, his expression started softening up. Yoongi made sure to kiss all over his pink cheeks, making his lover emit giggles and halfheartedly try to push him away. Yoongi snaked his arms around the boy’s waist and pulled him closer to himself, dropping on the blanket with Jimin’s head tucked underneath his chin, talking about the cheesiest things.

(“You’re my sun.”

“You are… my… human..?”)

As they were lying there, staring up at the inky sky and the stars that blinked at them, Yoongi felt at peace for what seemed like the first time in years. Jimin’s soft hair was tickling his chin, and his fingers on his neck kept his entire body warm. Jimin nuzzled his neck, humming softly. “Yoongi,” he mumbled, his voice raspy upon not talking for a while, “you smell nice.” Yoongi didn't know what to say as Jimin snuggled closer and pressed his rather small body to Yoongi’s. There was no doubt that his actions were anything but innocent and pure, but Yoong, was all of a sudden very much aware of Jimin’s hot breath against the skin of his neck, his thick thigh that was over Yoongi’s, half straddling him. A shiver ran down his spine, one that had absolutely nothing to do with the weather. Yoongi felt hot, too hot, despite the slightly chilly air of spring. Jimin was burning him inside out, and something churned in the pit of his stomach.

Jimin pressed his lips to his neck in a chaste kiss, and Yoongi shivered again. He loved Jimin, and whilst the boy might not have urges or desires, Yoongi certainly did. He had missed Jimin for so long, he always missed him. He was going to miss him until the end of his life, and he would miss him when he became a star, jealous of all the other stars that got Jimin’s attention. And he would miss him even after that, after exploding and becoming something different because of the continuous circle that was life and the universe. Even if he had no memories of him, he would miss him.

Jimin raised his chin and pressed his lips against his lover’s, silencing his thoughts immediately. Yoongi’s arm that was circled around his waist tightened, and he pulled the boy impossibly closer to himself. With his thumb and index finger, he held the boy’s chin and kept him in place, his kisses soft and lazy. Jimin spread his fingers on top of his lover’s chest, his small hand covering practically no space at all. It was endearing, everything about Jimin was endearing, and Yoongi felt himself drown in his lover.

Yoongi deepened the kiss, his tongue licking into Jimin’s mouth and making the boy whimper. He practically swallowed the sound, etching it in his very mind so that he would never forget it. Jimin’s clothed body was warm against his own, practically burning Yoongi alive deliciously. He wanted to feel more, to feel everything that was Jimin. He thought about the time they had swam together, how Jimin’s sculpted body had looked with the pale light of the stars, his skin glistening with droplets of water clinging to it.

He pushed him down onto the blanket slowly, almost breaking into a smile when the boy didn't fight it and laid down on his back. Yoongi climbed over him, one hand next to his lover’s head on the ground to hold him up, the other holding onto his chin to tilt his head back, kissing him deeply. He pushed one knee between Jimin’s legs, separating them, only to fit in between them a second later. Jimin whined against his lips, the sound muffled by Yoongi’s mouth.

Yoongi broke the kiss to stare into his lover’s eyes, their foreheads touching and lips centimeters apart. “Minnie,” he breathed out, his voice barely audible. Jimin hummed, his gaze stuck on Yoongi’s lips. There was something in his eyes, something Yoongi had never seen in those orbs that resembled the spring sky. Something he could only identify as want, “do you remember what I told you about humans loving each other?” Jimin hummed again, “Would you want me to love you like that too?”

That made Jimin pry his gaze away from Yoongi’s lips and directing it to his eyes, his own as big as two suns. He licked his lips nervously, Yoongi couldn't help but stare at them hungrily. If Jimin said no, he would pull back, he would. But he wanted so hopelessly for the boy to say yes, he wanted to love him without barriers. He wanted to touch him and feel him and be the first person to make him feel the kinds of pleasures he had never felt before.

Jimin nodded his head, “Yes,” he breathed out. Yoongi almost couldn't believe his ears, but from the way Jimin was caressing the back of his neck tenderly, from the way he was looking at him, it was obvious that he wanted it just as much as Yoongi did. So he got off of Jimin, grinning when the boy let out an endearing whine.

He kissed his lips once again, chaste and quick, “I’ll be right back,” he promised, staring directly at Jimin’s awestruck eyes with a fond expression. Jimin nodded again and raised himself off the blanket ever so slightly in a need to chase Yoongi’s lips, kissing his lover softly. The last thing Yoongi wanted to do was to break this moment, but he had to make sure the boy he loved so much did not get hurt. He wanted him to moan his name with pleasure, not pain.

He got off the floor and started running for his house for the second time that night. Jimin stared at his back, missing him already. Although he used to never feel cold, that had seemed to change ever since he had met Yoongi. The warmth the boy provided was so different from the warmth the sun had gifted him. It was different and beautiful, and Jimin found himself missing it immensely.

He stared at the stars while he waited, feelings he had never felt before churning in the pit of his stomach. It was a strange sensation, all the blood in his body seemed to in his lower half and his cheeks, instead of distributed evenly. He couldn't wait until Yoongi came back, excitement was bubbling in his stomach. Unsurely, he placed his hand on his chest, slowly moving it downwards as he imagined that it was Yoongi’s slender hand instead of his own. His breath hitched, his skin felt hotter than usual. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in a silent moan.

“Oh, baby.” Jimin opened his eyes upon hearing his lover’s deep voice, albeit being breathed and panted out. Yoongi was looking at him with awe a few steps ahead, a small bottle of something held in his palm.

“What’s that?” Jimin asked, nodding his head towards it. Yoongi looked at the bottle in his hand, holding it up so that Jimin could see it more clearly.

“It’s oil,” he replied, shaking the bottle, making the liquid slosh around in it, “It’s so that I don't hurt you.”

Jimin seemed reluctant, “It’s going to hurt?” he asked quietly, making Yoongi smile down at him with a fond expression and drop to his knees, leaning down so that their faces were mere centimeters apart.

“I promise not to hurt you,” he whispered, “But if it does, you need to tell me.”

Jimin nodded, wrapping his arms around his lover’s neck to pull him in for a kiss once again, having missed his presence and his lips in the mere minutes they had spent apart. He craved for Yoongi, and Yoongi made it obvious just how overwhelmed he was by kissing him back just as deeply. Fireworks were exploding behind his closed eyelids as he relished in the feeling of Jimin's lips against his own, his warm arms around his neck, his scent that was distinctively like how warmth would smell like surrounding him. Everything was Jimin, and nothing else mattered but the boy he was caging against the ground.

He trailed his hand down from the boy’s face to his chest that felt firm beneath his shirt. Jimin's breath hitched when Yoongi pushed his shirt up to reveal a strip of tanned skin, his fingers caressing it softly. Against his lips, Jimin let out a content and drawn out sigh. Yoongi trailed down from his lips to his jaw, one of his hands coming up to hold and tilt his head to the side so that he had more space to work with. Jimin all but mewled, his fingers digging into Yoongi’s shirt and his thighs closing to trap Yoongi between them. Yoongi could feel something semi-hard pressing against his thigh, and he smirked against the warm patch of skin just beneath Jimin’s chin, the very start of his throat. He kissed and sucked, earning moans that were barely held back and so filled with desperation and want. The amount of pride he felt for being the first to make Jimin emit such sounds was overwhelming, to say the least.

With one swift movement, he raised the shirt until it rested just beneath Jimin’s chin, bundled up underneath his armpits, his chest and stomach visible for Yoongi to kiss and mark. He stared at the smooth skin for a moment, taking in the caramel-likeness of it. Jimin all but squirmed underneath his gaze, wiggling embarrassedly in a way Yoongi knew was to grind against him by the little gasp Jimin let out.

Yoongi started kissing his chest softly, wanting to press his lips to every single inch of tanned skin. He bit down just above his nipple, drawing out a barely held back mewl from the boy. His breath ghosted over his nipple whilst his hand trailed down to palm his lover over his pants, emitting gasps of pleasure. He focused on his chest, sucking and biting on a patch of skin that made Jimin squirm beneath him. He raised himself off ever so slightly to gaze at the love bites that were decorating Jimin’s skin, gracing his neck and chest, blooming beautifully.

He cursed aloud, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, more to himself, but Jimin blushed under the compliment nevertheless. “Can you sit up for a second, sunshine?” he asked softly, sitting back on his heels. Jimin complied, straightening up so that Yoongi could pull his shirt over his head with ease, immediately starting to kiss his shoulders softly, his chest atop of Jimin’s chest, warm and firm beneath his fingertips. He bit down on one of his shoulders, enjoying the way Jimin’s breath hitched.

Quickly, he rid himself of his own shirt, throwing it on the sand to deal with it later. Jimin was staring at him with eyes full of awe, and Yoongi couldn't help but close into himself ever so slightly underneath his intense gaze, wrapping his arms around himself self consciously. Jimin quickly pulled his hands away from his body and mimicked the way Yoongi had been kissing his shoulders a few moments ago, his lips warm against Yoongi’s flushed skin. He sucked on a few spots like Yoongi had done, biting softly on his neck and licking it too soothe his irritated skin. The prince was taking his sweet time kissing every inch of his shoulders, before Yoongi impatiently tugged at his chin to bring him up to kiss him once again. His hands trailed down the prince’s chest and stomach, stopping when it came to his waistband. He broke the kiss to look at the boy hesitantly, checking if he was still okay with what was happening, and a smile of his own settled on his lips when he saw how the corners of Jimin’s lips were curled upwards. He pushed the boy down by his chest so that his back was against the soft blanket once again, before he took a deep breath and pulled his slacks down. His breath got stuck in his throat upon seeing the boy’s body.

He had seen Jimin naked before, but back then he hadn't been allowed to look. Now he could take his time as he took in the boy’s body, his toned thighs that were like a tanned, empty canvas, his dick that was flushed at the tip and hard, curved against his stomach. He ran his fingers over the boy’s thighs, relishing in the smooth feeling. Jimin shivered beneath his touch, all but squirming to cover himself up.

“You’re staring,” he said breathily, yet there was a chuckle laced within his tone.

“Because you’re beautiful,” Yoongi replied without missing a beat, hooking his hand under the boy’s thigh to pull him closer, hitching it up to rest it over his shoulder, Jimin’s lower half raised from the ground. Yoongi turned his head to bite on the soft skin of the inside of Jimin’s thigh, sucking and licking to soothe it. A beautiful combination of red and purple bloomed on his honey coloured skin, and Yoongi only moved forward so that he could bite more marks into his thighs. In the end, his face was mere centimeters apart from Jimin’s dick, and he placed a final kiss on the boy’s shaft before pulling away. Jimin mewled, his hand trailing down to give himself the satisfaction of being touched for once, before Yoongi swatted his hand away.

“Don't touch yourself, baby,” he mumbled, “I want to be the only one giving you pleasure.” He moved to gather the clothes that were scattered around them, collecting them and bundling them up to create a makeshift pillow. He raised the boy’s hips ever so slightly and placed the bunch of clothes beneath them, one hand on Jimin’s thigh. He reached back to grab the little bottle of oil he had dropped on the ground earlier, opening the cap to pour some in his open palm. He placed the bottle on the floor once again, “Pull your knees and pull your legs to yourself, okay, sunshine?” he said softly, his non-oily hand caressing Jimin’s skin. Jimin complied, albeit rather embarrassedly.

Yoongi propped one finger against his entrance, circling the rim but not quite pushing the bad of his finger in. Jimin all but whined, trying to grind down on his finger on reflex and making Yoongi break out into a smile, who slowly pushed his finger up to the first knuckle, waiting for Jimin to adjust. The prince’s eyes were shut tightly and his lips were pressed into a thin line. “How are you feeling?” Yoongi asked, kneading the flesh of the boy’s thigh, “Does it hurt? Do you think you can take more?”

“I-it’s weird, I’m just not used to it,” Jimin replied, “It hurts a bit.”

Yoongi nodded, waiting patiently for Jimin to nod at him to continue despite his own hardness that was becoming uncomfortable in his pants. But he knew that he had to wait, and he would wait, even if it took years. Because hurting Jimin was something he simply could not do. So he waited, until Jimin took a deep breath and told him to continue. And he did, pushing his finger in carefully, only to pull it out until only the tip of it was in, before pushing it in once again. “You’re good?” he checked once again, earning a nod from Jimin, “Try to relax for me, okay, sunshine?”

Jimin seemed to take his plea to heart, as it became slightly easier to move his finger in and out. Once he deemed the boy loose enough, he pushed two fingers in, making Jimin hiss in pain but not object. Yoongi looked for the bundle of nerves Jimin must have, smirking to himself when a sudden jolt went through Jimin’s entire body, making him snap his eyes open and let out a rather loud moan. The boy looked at him with wide eyes, “What was that?” he asked, his question breathy. Yoongi couldn't help but grin.

“That,” he mumbled, “is a special spot that makes you feel really good. Just like this.” His other hand went from Jimin’s thigh to his neglected length, flushed prettily. He took it in his hand, giving it a few experimental pumps, making Jimin moan loudly again. He stroked his member in time with his finger that kept going in and out of his hole, the oil making it all the more easier to slide it.

“Does it feel good?” he asked softly, earning a rushed nod from Jimin, as the boy dug his nails into the blanket. His eyes were shut with ecstasy, his body twitching with anticipation. Yoongi pulled both of his hands away to cover them with more oil, and Jimin whined shamelessly when he lost the feel of Yoongi’s hands on himself. Yoongi shushed him quietly, this time adding three digits and pushing in and out in a steady rhythm. His other hand continued pumping the boy’s member, the oil making the slide all the easier.

He felt Jimin twitch in his hand, and he stopped pumping him instantly, pulling his hand away and stopping the movement of his fingers inside of him. Jimin whined again, trying to find something to grind against, but it was a futile attempt. He opened his eyes to silently beg, but Yoongi didn't waver, “I don't want you to come so quickly,” the boy replied to the prince’s expression.

Jimin looked as if he was going to ask what that meant, before Yoongi started moving his hand again, scissoring and curling his fingers within the boy’s walls, making him let out mewls and moans. He felt his own member twitch in his pants, but he repressed his arousal in order to give Jimin the pleasure he deserved. As if he had read his mind, Jimin hardly opened his eyes to look at him through tears, “Y-you aren’t- aren't feeling t-this,” he pointed out.

Yoongi smiled fondly at him, hitting his prostate dead on and making him roll his head backwards with pleasure, “I’ll be fine, baby. I just want you to feel good,” he replied.

“B-but—” he cut himself off with a moan, his body was shaking already, “But you’re not feeling good.”

Yoongi’s insides churned with warmth, the love he felt for the boy almost too overwhelming, “I feel good by watching you,” he responded, dipping down and kissing him when the boy looked like he was going to protest again. Jimin didn't fight it, he melted into the kiss as Yoongi moved his fingers inside of him. He pulled back ever so slightly to look into his eyes, “I’ll feel good soon too, baby. Don't worry.”

Jimin pouted, his brows furrowed, “I want you to feel good too,” he insisted stubbornly, “I want you to feel good now.”

That made Yoongi pause, “I don't want to hurt you,” he said hesitantly, sitting on his heels, “We need to stretch you properly so that I don't hurt you.”

Jimin let out an annoyed huff, raising himself off the ground and wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s neck to bring him closer, their naked chests pressed flush against each other, “You worry too much,” he whispered, looking into the boy’s eyes, “It doesn't hurt anymore, I promise. It feels so good, Yoongi.” His eyes trailed down to the boy’s lips, he hesitantly tilted his head to kiss him chastely. “I want you to feel good too,” he said again when they separated. Yoongi was still a bit hesitant.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he checked for what seemed like the thousandth time that night, and Jimin just gave him a small smile and a nod, kissing him once again. When they broke apart and Jimin laid back down, Yoongi nodded to himself, “Okay, we’re doing this,” he mumbled, getting to his feet so that he could pull his own pants down. He stood there for a second, not knowing what to do, before Jimin smiled at him softly and motioned him to get closer with a hand. Yoongi dropped to his knees again, jacking Jimin closer by his shins, so close that his hardness was pressing against Jimin’s entrance. He quickly grabbed the bottle of oil once again and poured a generous amount of it into his palm, covering himself up with the liquid. He could feel Jimin’s eyes watching his every move, and when he looked up, he made eye contact with Jimin, who didn't even bother to avert his eyes. He continued staring at him like he was the one who had hung up the stars, and he beckoned him to come closer once again. Yoongi leaned over him, only held up by one of hands that was placed next to Jimin’s head on the ground. He lowered himself so that he could bury his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck, inhaling his scent, before he pushed himself in ever so slightly.

He froze when Jimin did, raising his head to look at his lover with concern ridden eyes, “Are you okay, love?” he asked worriedly. A determined expression took over Jimin’s facial features, and he wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck to bring him close to his chest again.

“Move,” he said, and Yoongi complied, albeit slowly.

He slowly, carefully pushed all the way in, moving back to check up on Jimin’s expression to see if the boy was in too much pain or not. Jimin’s eyes were closed, his mouth hung open as he panted, trying to adjust to the stretch. Yoongi caressed his cheek with a hand, smiling ever so slightly when Jimin nuzzled his palm, burying his nose into it. Yoongi moved his hand up, to the boy’s forehead where he pushed his sweaty, golden locks away from his face and placed a soft kiss on his skin. Jimin let out a content sigh.

Jimin was warm, so very warm. It was even warmer than when he was kissing him, it was hotter than his tongue when it explored Yoongi’s mouth curiously. Jimin was so warm and so tight that he wanted to stay buried in him until the end of the universe. When he was in him like this, when they were one, there was nothing else Yoongi could ask for. All he wanted was Jimin, his soul and his body. His smiles that resembled the first rays of the sun, subtle but still bright. Or the freckles that were mapped across his chest and shoulders like the stars. Or his giggles that sounded like a cool river in the middle of a sunny day. Jimin was so distinctively himself, Yoongi didn't think he could compare the boy to anything but the nature.

He slowly moved out until only the tip of his erection was inside, before he pushed in once again, careful as ever and yet still slightly faster and harder. Jimin wrapped his arms around his torso and digged his nails into his back, making Yoongi faintly think that he should cut them sometime.

He pushed in and out in a slow pace, his mouth busying itself with sucking even more hickeys into his skin. Jimin’s length was rubbing between their stomachs, spreading pre-come on both of their skin. Jimin was all but trembling underneath him, his mouth hung open permanently with the string of moans that fell through it. He was hugging him close, and Yoongi did his best to move when Jimin was practically locking him in place with both his legs and arms.

It was obvious how much Jimin wanted him to go harder, faster, but Yoongi wanted this to last long. He wanted to cherish this moment they were spending together as one, and burn it into his memory permanently. He knew that it would be weeks before he could see Jimin again, and maybe, sun forbid, even months. Maybe even years, they could never tell. Yoongi repressed a shiver that came with the thought and told himself to enjoy it while it lasted, enjoy Jimin and his skin that was glistening with sweat underneath the pale light of the stars, his golden hair that was sticking to his forehead, his honey skin that was covered by Yoongi’s marks, blooming like beautiful flowers on a caramel canvas, the high pitched and drawn out moans that fell from between his plush lips that were hung open permanently.

“I love you.” He all but froze as soon as the words left his mouth, along with Jimin, whose eyes snapped open to look at him. They were filled to the brim with warmth and love, and Yoongi realised that those words were as far from a lie as they could be, nothing but the solid and absolute truth. He loved Jimin, he didn't know since when, but he loved him. He loved him so much that it felt like his heart was going to burst.

Jimin cupped his face with a hand, his smile gleaming in the dark night, “I love you too,” he muttered, and Yoongi wasn't sure if the tears in his eyes were from being stretched or from his words. It didn't seem to matter, as Jimin stared at him like that, nothing seemed to matter. Nothing but Jimin. So he nuzzled his hand that was placed on his cheek, turning his head ever so slightly so that he could kiss his palm. He moved his own hand up and placed it on top of Jimin’s, pulling it down on the ground and lacing their fingers together. Jimin’s other arm wrapped around his back to hold him close, pulling him down so that their chests were pressed against one another.

“I love you so much,” Yoongi whispered into his ear as he picked up his pace ever so slightly, feeling warmth pool in the pit of his stomach familiarly. He felt Jimin nod his head frantically as melodic moans spilled from his mouth, “You’re my sun and my stars, my entire universe. I love you, sunshine.”

“I- I love you too,” Jimin moaned, bearing his neck for Yoongi to kiss, “I— I love you, Yoongi.” Yoongi kissed his neck softly, making the boy whimper as he moved his hips, content by the way Jimin was trying to move back so that he could meet his thrusts, “Yoongi, I—” he cut himself off with a loud moan as he came, spilling white both on himself and on Yoongi, who picked up the pace, chasing his own orgasm. His wish was granted when Jimin, panting and whimpering from the oversensitivity, cupped his face lightly and brought his face close to his own, kissing him deeply. Yoongi came with a grunt that was muffled by Jimin’s lips, spilling into the boy.

He slumped forward, dropping on top of Jimin’s chest, both of them panting. They laid on the blanket like that for what seemed like minutes, breathing in each other’s scent. At the end, Yoongi pulled out, making his come drip from Jimin’s entrance, who whimpered when he lost the feeling of being so full. Their hands were still clasped on the ground, holding one another even tighter now. Yoongi changed their position so that he was on the bottom, pulling Jimin close to his chest and placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. He heard Jimin sigh, and he pulled him impossibly closer. He kissed his forehead, his eyelids, his nose… After kissing his temple, he whispered, “You were incredible, sunshine,” into his ear, stroking his hair with one hand as he hugged him with the other.

Jimin let out a sleepy hum, “You were too,” he slurred. He turned his head slightly to look at Yoongi in the eyes, his gaze full of wonder and bliss, “Is this how humans love each other?” he asked, almost like a whisper. His hair was tickling Yoongi’s chin.

Yoongi hummed conformingly. Jimin closed his eyes and snuggled further into his chest, “I like it,” he mumbled, burying his nose in the crook of Yoongi’s neck, “I don't know why, but it felt familiar. Everything with you seems familiar.” He reached up to push the strands of hair that were getting into Yoongi’s eyes, “Your hair has gotten longer,” he pointed out, gently brushing it away. Yoongi didn't respond, he continued staring at his lover, not being able to bear missing even a second of him, “It’s so strange, the way humans grow,” Jimin mused, “Your bodies change, your hair grows, your ideas and thoughts change…” He let out a sigh, closing his eyes, “And yet I’m always the same, never changing, stuck in an endless loop. I will never get old, and I will never die. Overwhelming, don't you think so?”

Yoongi knew what he was talking about, the underlying fact they were both working so hard to ignore. Yoongi was going to die. He was going to get old, and eventually leave the Earth to become a star, as Jimin had put it. Somehow, he didn't feel dread as he thought about it. He hugged him tightly instead. “I will always love you, be it in my next life or the one after it. I will love you when I’m a star, and I will love you when the universe disappears and we become nothing. I will love you even when I don't have a physical form and am nothing but a mere soul.” He kissed the top of his head again, relishing in the familiar scent, “So don't worry, my love, for I will find you and love you all over again after I die. I promise.”

Neither of them knew why Yoongi’s words sounded so familiar.

And they laid there, with Yoongi’s thumb tracing the lines of Jimin’s hipbone. The boy let out a sigh against his lover’s collarbones. “I don't want you to leave,” Yoongi mumbled, his voice cracking ever so slightly, “Not again. I know that you have to go, but I’m scared of never seeing you again. I’m scared you will just… disappear.”

Jimin snaked his arm around Yoongi’s waist, pulling him close to himself and breathing in his scent that was a mixture of mint and the ocean and something else. Something he couldn't explain, something distinctively Yoongi.

“I don't want to go either,” he murmured, turning his head to stare straight at the ocean, “Earth is so different, always changing, never stopping. People are happy and sad and angry and they love and hate and just feel. And then, there’s you…” he sighed, “I’m never alone when I’m here. I have you. I have no one back home. Well, I have the sun, but she is always either working or sleeping, so I never see her.” He buried his nose in the crook of his lover’s neck again, “It is my home, but it is empty and lonely. I sometimes feel like, I don't know, as if I belong here instead. As if my real home is the Earth.” He chuckled, “Insane, is it not?”

Yoongi just smiled and pulled him closer.

Jimin walked around the castle with a permanent smile stretched across his face, thinking about the time he had spent with Yoongi, his body still aching in the best possible way. As time didn't exist, his body didn't quite heal, making the ache he felt within his lover body long lasting, along with the bruises all over his neck and chest. He didn't mind it, it was like a gift from Yoongi. The bite marks became the only reason he ever looked at a mirror, just to admire them and giggle to himself.

He walked through room after room without barely seeing anything, too content in his dream world to care about anything else, when he saw something that made him stop. He had come in front of those heavy set of doors once again, the ones that were always locked, the ones he had never seen the beyond of. Except, there was something wrong, something different. He took cautious steps, hesitant all of a sudden, when he realised— with huge eyes— what was so different. He could see a small crack between the two doors, a peak of light coming through it. He froze in his stop, not sure as to what to do. He looked around, despite knowing that he was alone— the sun was working— before he took a few hesitant steps towards the dark wood doors, placing his hand on the cold surface and pushing slightly. Albeit heavy, the doors weren't closed, and they opened without using too much force. Jimin’s eyes widened even further when he saw what was behind it.

A library, seemingly reaching to eternity, the tops of the shelves not visible even with the torches that illuminated the room by being hung practically on every available surface. Books— old or new, thick or thin, leather or cloth bound— of every colour decorating the shelves, not even one empty space between them. There were dark, wooden, long tables that were only barely floodlit with the lanterns that were placed on them with mere centimeters between them. Along with books, there were also bundles of sheets of papers and folders scattered throughout the bookshelves.

Jimin stared at the library with astonishment, having never seen such a thing. He walked into the library, his steps hesitant and drawn out.

“How may I assist you?” Jimin turned around in shock to see who it was that spoke, not seeing anyone behind him. He took a few steps backwards, terrified.

“H-hello?” he called out with a shaky voice.

“How may I assist you?” the voice asked once again, its tone not changing. It was neither male or female, it was a mixture of yelling and whispering, monotone yet alive. It was impossible to explain, and yet hearing it was so simple.

“I- I don't know,” Jimin muttered, his hands trembling in fright as his eyes desperately searched for the source of the voice, but to his dismay, found none. He swallowed thickly, his pulse in his ears, “W-where is this place?” he asked, looking around once more.

“It is the grand library of the castle, my prince,” the voice replied without changing its tone. “You can find whatever book or document you desire in here. Everything from the creation of the universe to this very moment is documented in here.”

Jimin furrowed his brows, “Everything?” he questioned.

“Yes, my prince.”

A thought appeared in Jimin’s mind. With a rather hesitant voice, he asked, “Do you have the tale of me?”

“Yes, my prince.”

Jimin pressed his lips together, unsure if he really wanted to do this, not knowing what he was going to be faced with. And yet, there was a small head in his voice, screaming at him to take this chance. “Bring it to me,” he commanded.

His gaze shifted to one of the bookshelves when he heard a rustling. A single sheet of paper floated towards him, ridden at the edges and a yellowish colour from old age. It stopped right when it came in front of his face. He grabbed it, swallowing his nerves down and beginning to read the cursive letters. As his eyes skimmed over the page, the same voice of the librarian filled his head.

“‘Park Jimin,” he read, “‘Twenty two. Suicide by exsanguination.’”

“What…” he muttered to himself, his brows furrowed, “No, I wouldn't. Why would I ever do that, I…”

Lived with his abusive father and younger brother, who killed himself when he was only sixteen.’

“‘His mother died during childbirth, and his father drowned himself in alcohol. He beat his kids. Park Jimin killed himself after his lover died of illness as well, thus was taken by the sun, who made him forget ever being a human.”

Jimin threw the sheet of paper on the ground, his eyes wide with horror, as he took a few steps back as if the offending paper could come to life and tear his head off. “No,” he said stubbornly, shaking his head, “No, these are all lies. I- I couldn't— I would not kill myself, I would not—” And yet, yet there was a distant voice in his head, the same one that had told him to look for the tale in the first place, telling him that he was only trying to make himself believe, because it was easier that way. But he shook his head, trying to shake the voice off as well. He turned around in an attempt to face the voice of the librarian, “This is wrong!” he yelled, his eyes prickling, “This— It cannot be true, it just cannot be!”

He heard the librarian’s voice in his skull once again, “Everything in that document is all but facts, my prince. It is the tale of you, and how you have come to be the prince.”

Jimin’s head was spinning, and it almost felt as if it was going to split in half. There was a heavy ache within his chest, so much so that he could hardly breathe. His knees were trembling, he placed a hand on top of one of the desks to keep his balance, his legs threatening to give out any second. He placed a hand on top of his frantically beating heart, his eyes wide with horror and his mouth hung open with the pain that twisted and contorted his heart. Everything he knew, or rather, everything he thought he knew, was false. Everything. He hadn't been born in the castle, he hadn't existed since the creation of the universe, he wasn't the sun’s other form. He was all but a mere human, who had been brought into the castle just to that he could keep the sun company. He had longed for the earth for so long, not knowing where his longing came from, thinking that it was irrational since he had never been on the surface of it before… But he had, once upon a time, because he was a human. He had been a child before, he had had brown hair and brown eyes. Once upon a time, he had been human. The thought made him furrow his brows, was he still a human?

“I can't stay here,” he murmured to himself, the strength in his legs coming back to support him once again as he all but ran out of the library.

Yoongi breathed in the calming scent of the ocean, letting his senses get heightened by the saltiness and the freshness of it. The marks Jimin had left had began to fade, he knew. He missed them already, he missed him already. Even a few days took its toll on him, and he had to remind himself over and over that in a few weeks, he would get to see his beloved once again, he could hold him, kiss him, touch him. He could bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe in his intoxicating smell, the scent that resembled the fresh air of spring, what sunlight would smell like. The very thought calmed him down more than the sea ever could. He brought his hand up to stroke his neck with gentle fingers, reminiscing about how Jimin’s lips had attached themselves on his skin just a few nights back, the memories fresh in his mind. He smiled to himself, because he was in love. He was very much in love, and albeit scary, it was the warmest he had ever felt.

He let out a heavy sigh, he had to take care of the vegetables, he knew, but the thought of walking away from the beach sounded almost unbearable. Alas, he had things to do, so he pushed himself off the rocks with his hands, landing on his feet on the sand. His boots were becoming too much for the warm weather, he needed to change them for something else. He wondered where his pair of sandals were.

He turned his back to the ocean, his feet starting to walk the familiar road. “Yoongi!” Before he could even turn back to the source of the voice, something hit his back with full force, almost working to knock him down on the sand. His eyes wide, his arms instinctively went to snake around the boy’s waist, pulling him all the closer. Golden hair was all he could see.

“Jimin?” he asked, shellshocked, “What? How? It’s morning!”

Jimin pulled back to stare into his eyes, his gaze so full of unfamiliar fear and doubt, feelings he had never seen on Jimin before. He stared into his lover’s eyes that were the size of saucers, stared as Jimin’s features distorted with pain. He quickly cupped the boy’s face and stared at him in the eyes as tears threatened to fall from Jimin’s eyes, “Sunshine, what happened?” he asked urgently, his tone laced with worry. He stroked the soft skin beneath his thumb gently, feeling the usual, familiar warmth of it, “What’s wrong?”

Jimin was shaking in his arms, “Yoongi,” he muttered, “I’m human.”

What?

“Jiminie, what are you talking about?” Yoongi questioned, his brows furrowed with confusion as he tried to look into Jimin’s eyes which the boy was trying to avert, “You can't be human, Minnie, that’s impossible.”

“I am!” Jimin cried, finally looking at Yoongi. There was so much pain in his eyes, so much confusion and suffering. Yoongi wanted to pepper kisses all over his face, kiss him until his problems became nothing, but he knew that that wasn't what the boy needed right then, so he just nodded and took his hand, leading him towards the rocks he had just been sitting on.

“Tell me what happened, Minnie,” he said tenderly, never once letting go of Jimin’s hand. And the prince did, albeit with a shaky voice. He told him about the big, wooden doors, and how he had found them agape. He told him about how the library had looked, and he told him about the invisible librarian. And, finally, he told him about asking of his own tale.

“Park Jimin. Twenty two. Suicide by exsanguination.” he recited, “Those were the words, Yoongi, I— I don't know what to do, I questioned the librarian, I didn't think it was real, but I— I can't stay there anymore.” He took a shaky breath to calm himself down, raising his gaze to look at Yoongi with pain filled eyes, “Why, why didn't you tell me that I used to be human? You knew of the tale, Yoongi, why did you not tell me? Why, Yoongi?” He buried his nose in the crook of his lover’s neck, seeking his scent to calm him down.

Why, indeed. Why hadn't Yoongi thought of it? Why hadn't he told him? “I didn't think that it was real,” he whispered, “So much about the story was just that, a story. You told me you did not have a crown and a cape, and that you don't grant wishes. I assumed that being human was like that as well.” He wrapped an arms around Jimin’s waist and pulled him impossibly closer, placing his lips on the top of his head and kissing it tenderly, “I’m sorry, sunshine, I should have thought better. I should have told you the story. I’m sorry.” He felt Jimin’s warm breath against his skin, he could breathe the boy’s scent. Both things he had missed excessively throughout the few days he hadn't gotten to see him.

Jimin started pulling back, and although Yoongi was, for a second, afraid the boy would be mad at him, he let go nevertheless. Jimin didn't look at him for a few seconds, his face not telling him anything by the blank expression he had pulled on like a veil. For a few seconds, no words were spoken, only the song of the sea hitting the shore.

“I can't go back there,” he muttered, “The Earth really is my home, Yoongi. I can't go back.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself protectively, “I can't.”

Yoongi took a deep breath, thinking of what to do. Could Jimin really stay on Earth? Could he live with his beloved until he died? Would Jimin age too if he stayed on Earth? He pressed his lips together unsurely, but nodded nonetheless, pulling his lover close, “Okay,” he whispered against his temple, “Okay, love.”

After a few seconds of silence, Jimin spoke again, “Yoongi.”

“Hmm?”

The boy paused for a moment, “I want to see some kids.”

Yoongi couldn't help but smile at that. He pushed Jimin by the shoulders ever so slightly so that he could look into his eyes, “Before that,” he muttered, “do you want to meet my family?”

Jimin looked at him with wonder ridden eyes, “Can I really meet them?” he asked, his lips stretching out to reveal a set of teeth. It warmed Yoongi’s eyes when he spotted the slightly crooked front tooth. What a perfect imperfection, he thought.

He nodded, taking his hand and pulling him gently so that they could get off the rocks, “Of course you have to meet them, love,” he said tenderly. “After all, you will live with me and them, you need to meet them first.”

Jimin stopped in his tracks, making Yoongi turn to look at him with a questioning gaze. Jimin’s eyes were huge as he looked at his lover, “I will be staying with you?” he asked, his voice all but a whisper. Yoongi furrowed his brows confusedly.

“I thought that much would be obvious,” he said, “Of course you will be staying with us, sunshine.”  

Jimin felt his eyes prickle with unshed tears, his heart soaring, “Okay,” he muttered, taking a step towards his lover so that he could place a kiss on his cheek, “Okay.”

Yoongi stood in front of his brother and his husband, both of which stared at him with eyes as huge as saucers, their mouths agape. He tightened his hold on Jimin’s hand reassuringly, he could feel the nerves radiating off his lover. Namjoon’s grip on the doorknob tight, his eyes skimming from Yoongi to Jimin to back to Yoongi again. Silence hung heavy over their heads, shock and disbelief apparent from the way they were looking at him.

Seokjin was the first one to collect himself, “Jimin, right?” he asked with a bright, welcoming smile, “Please, do come in.”

Jimin pressed his lips together nervously and compiled, his hand still gripping Yoongi’s tightly, following his lover’s lead into the small house. Yoongi kicked his sandals off at the entrance, placing them to the side, taking a step into the house. He tugged at Jimin’s hand gently until they were standing near the wooden table in the kitchen, and he pushed him down on the seat, taking the chair right next to his. Namjoon and Seokjin were sitting opposite to each other, Seokjin in his mother’s chair and Namjoon in his father’s. Yoongi twiddled with his thumbs nervously, wishing for the awkward, tense silence to dissipate.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi raised his gaze off the surface of the wooden table to look at his younger brother with surprise ridden eyes, finding the boy with his eyes casted down, staring at his lap. “I’m sorry I didn't believe you, brother,” he muttered ashamedly. Seokjin reached forward to take Namjoon’s hand into his own.

Yoongi’s eyes softened, “It’s fine, Joon,” he muttered tenderly, “I understand why you wouldn't.” He took Jimin’s hand into his own, the feeling of small fingers lacing with his own all too familiar, “Jin, brother, this is Jimin,” he introduced the boy, who was radiating off nerves, “my lover.”

Seokjin smiled at their anxious guest, “Your eyes are beautiful, Jimin,” he complimented the boy, who's already flushed cheeks got a tad bit pinker.

“Thank you,” he muttered, daring to raise his glance and look at Seokjin in the eyes, “It is a pleasure to be your acquaintance,” he said politely, bowing his head in a respectful manner. Seokjin’s lips stretched out in a grin.

“You don't have to be so formal with us,” he said, waving a hand in the air dismissively, “You’re family.”

Jimin’s gaze snapped up upon hearing the boy’s words, his eyes wide in unadulterated shock, “I… I am?” he questioned in disbelief, making both Namjoon and Seokjin chuckle, as Yoongi stared at him lovingly.

“Of course you are,” Namjoon said, smiling fondly at the new addition to their small family, “You’re Yoongi’s family, so you’re our family as well.”

Jimin pressed his lips together in a poor attempt at holding back his tears, blinking rapidly so that he didn't burst. He lowered his head to hide his face again, “Thank you,” he managed to mutter out, “I don't— I can't remember my real family, I don't know who they are. To me, I’ve never had a family other than the sun, but she—” he pressed his lips together once again, trying to calm down the turmoil happening within him. He let out a shaky exhale, “I cannot call her family anymore. Not after what she has done.”

Seokjin and Namjoon gave Yoongi matching expressions of pure confusion, receiving one that clearly told them not to ask. Seokjin looked at Jimin unsurely for a second, before he plastered on a smile once again, “Well, now you have one,” he chirped, “One that will love and cherish you. Like how these two cherished me,” he added fondly, his thumb caressing Namjoon’s knuckles.

Yoongi looked at his lover to see that he was gazing at the two’s hands fondly, a small smile playing on his lips. He cleared his throat to get the attention on himself. “I promised Jimin to show him around,” he told everyone, “We will be back for dinner, don't worry,” he added, “But we need to go now.”

Seokjin nodded, getting to his feet along with Namjoon so that they could escort the couple to the door, “Have fun, you two,” Namjoon muttered, wrapping an arm around Seokjin’s waist to pull him closer. “And, Jimin,” Jimin turned to look at him with curious eyes, “thank you, for making my brother so happy. And welcome to the family.” He extended a hand for the boy to shake, but Jimin smiled brightly and pulled him in for a hug instead. Although he was surprised for a second, Namjoon let out a breathy laugh and hugged the boy back just as tightly. Yoongi looked at his lover and his brother fondly, warmth blooming in his chest like a handful of flowers.

Namjoon patted Jimin on the shoulder as they parted, giving him a warm squeeze, a smile adorning his lips. Jimin grinned back at him before hugging Seokjin as well, making the boy smile warmly as he snaked his arms around Jimin’s tinier structure. Yoongi watched the scene unfold in front of him, leaning against the threshold with a fond smile on his lips. When Jimin pulled back, he turned to Yoongi with the most dazzling, beautiful grin on his face, so much brighter than his usual smiles. It made Yoongi’s heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly. Young love, he thought, makes people a bit crazy.

And he smiled as he took Jimin’s hand into his own, leading him out and away from the house. His eyes trailed down to his bare feet, “Is it nice walking barefoot?” he asked curiously, making Jimin look at him questioningly before following his gaze to his own feet.

He shrugged, “I don't have anything to wear anyway, but I suppose I wouldn't want to. It feels… restricting, almost. I like feeling the earth beneath my feet, it feels all the more real.” His gaze softened, a fond smile found its place on his lips, “Maybe I’ve just missed feeling all of the Earth, being away for so long.”

Yoongi watched his expression for a few seconds, before he smiled and lifted their linked hands to his mouth, kissing the back of Jimin’s hand lovingly. “You won't have to miss it anymore,” he promised, “Because this is your home, and you deserve to live in it as much as I do. I won't let you miss it anymore.”

Jimin grinned at him, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He didn't want to cry and ruin the perfect feeling in the air, he didn't want his tears to worry his lover. So he nodded wordlessly, pressing his lips together in a closed mouthed smile, and followed Yoongi’s lead into the town.

Jimin was looking at anything and everything with wonder, his eyes huge. It made Yoongi smile.

“You have already seen all of this, why does it still make you so astonished?” he questioned, a chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat as Jimin turned to pout at him.

“It is because it’s always changing, of course,” Jimin replied matter of factly, “I’ve never seen the town when it is filled with humans—” he paused for a second, his gaze softened, “I’ve never seen it when it is filled with people,” he corrected himself, “It’s rather stupid of me to call them humans, don't you think? After all, I’m all but one of them. A human.” He let out a sigh of tranquility, closing his eyes and breathing in the air of the village, “It feels like home,” he muttered.

Yoongi wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, “It’s because it is,” he muttered against his temple.

They walked through the alleys, hand in hand, curious and rather shocked eyes falling on Jimin and inspecting him like he was something that came from the outer space. Which, Yoongi presumed, would be a correct statement. He didn't exactly like the looks his lover was getting, sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd of people with brown hair and brown eyes, his golden locks and sky blue orbs clashing with the commoners’. But Jimin didn't seem bothered by them, as he pulled Yoongi towards whatever direction he saw fit, dragging him through the streets filled with people, towards shops and the things that caught his attention for a few seconds, only to pull him towards somewhere else a second later. It was tiring, sure, but Yoongi couldn't help but smile as he watched his lover run around with eyes full of enthusiasm, a smile so childlike and devoid of any malice. Warmth bloomed deep within his chest, refusing to leave as long as their hands stayed connected.

All of a sudden, Jimin stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. Yoongi confusedly followed his gaze, his eyes softening when he spotted the children playing by a house.

“So… so tiny,” Jimin whispered, more to himself, making Yoongi crack up with laughter. “Yoongi, they’re so small, I—”

“Want to go play with them?” Yoongi asked, cutting him off. Jimin directed his wide eyed gaze to the boy then, his expression surprise ridden.

“Can I?” he asked unsurely, turning back to the kids, “They’re so tiny, I don't want to hurt them. Perhaps it would be better for me to watch them from afar.”

Yoongi scoffed, tugging at Jimin’s hand towards the little kids, “That’s creepy, sunshine.”

Turning a deaf ear to his complaints, Yoongi walked up to the children, who stopped playing when they spotted the two elder boys approaching them. Yoongi smiled a bit, crouching so that he was at eye-level with one of the kids. A boy with long lashes and a lanky body, his skin somewhat darker than Jimin’s, an extraordinary, yet beautiful feature in the sea of people with paler skin. The boy stared at him curiously.

“Hello,” Yoongi said with a soft voice, grinning a little, “What’s your name?”

The boy blinked once before loudly exclaiming, “Taehyung!” Yoongi would be lying if he said that he didn't flinch at the sudden loudness of the boy’s voice. Taehyung tugged at the hand of his friend, pulling him closer. “And this is Jungkookie!” The boy ducked his head in a bow shyly, tightly clinging to the arm of his friend.

Another boy suddenly jumped up, “I’m Hoseok!” he exclaimed, just as loud as Taehyung was. Yoongi couldn't help but pity the quiet one.

Yoongi hummed, “I’m Yoongi, and this big brother here is Jimin,” he introduced, pulling Jimin by the hand so that they were both crouching. “He wants to play with you, right, Jimin?” He turned to face his lover, only to find him with a frown on his face. When he followed his gaze, he found it attached to Jungkook, who was staring back at Jimin with wondering eyes.

“Love, is something wrong?” Yoongi asked quietly, but Jimin shook his head.

“He just seemed familiar, is all.” He plastered a smile, on his face, bright yet careful, “Nice to meet you,” he muttered, extending a hand to the kids who looked at each other confusedly before Taehyung also stuck his small hand out to shake Jimin’s.

“I like this big brother!” he proclaimed, “No adult ever wants to shake hands with us!” His friends agreed, Hoseok loud and clear whilst Jungkook giving only a silent nod.

Yoongi looked around, “Where are your parents?” he asked the boys.

“Mine and Taehyung’s are shopping!” Hoseok spoke this time, “But Jungkookie doesn't have any parents!” Taehyung frowned, punching the boy in the shoulder annoyedly. When Hoseok gave him an irritated look, Taehyung jerked his head towards the small boy standing quietly next to him, his head hung low. Hoseok’s face softened with guilt, “I’m sorry, Jungkookie, I didn't mean it like that.”

Jungkook shrugged, a thin smile on his face, “It’s fine,” he tried to reassure his friend. Yoogni’s heart broke. Jungkook then turned to them, his smile turning genuine, “We’re playing hopscotch, big brother can join us if he wants to,” he said quietly. Jimin’s face softened, and he nodded his head enthusiastically.

“I would love to,” he responded, before getting to his feet, “How do you play this?”

Taehyung looked at him with an agape mouth, “You have never played hopscotch before?” he asked, shocked, “Big brother, were you ever a child?”

Yoongi half expected Jimin to grow silent at that, but the boy only laughed brightly, “I must have been, at one point,” he mused.

Yoongi watched from afar as the little boys taught Jimin how to play the game, laughing at him when he fell on his rear. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a wall, watching his lover’s first ever interaction with a group of kids, and, surely enough, they were getting along incredibly. It was as if Jimin was one of them as he laughed along and played, not even getting upset when he fell down again and again, nor when the boys made fun of him. If anything, he smiled wider, his laugh getting louder. It was a sight Yoongi could certainly get used to, Jimin with a group of kids. It was then, that he realised that he would like to have a family with the boy, with children and maybe even a pet, or maybe two. It was perhaps the first time in his life in which he wanted kids. It warmed his heart, to think of Jimin, waking up with messy hair in the middle of the night to take care of their crying child. Of Jimin, trying to cook but ending up with something inedible. Of Jimin, playing with a dog, or cuddling up with a cat. He wanted it, and although it seemed so far out of reach, he thought, maybe, just maybe, they could achieve it.

As much as he hated to pry Jimin away from the fun he was having with the boys, it was getting dark, and they had promised Seokjin that they would be home for dinner. “Love,” he called out to Jimin, making the boy turn around with curious eyes, “we need to go, Seokjin and Joon are waiting to have dinner with us.” The boys whined in protest along with Jimin, making Yoongi roll his eyes but chuckle nevertheless, “Sorry, kids, your big brother and I really need to go,” he told them, “But you will see him soon, don't worry.”

Jimin crouched in front of the boys with matching pouts on their faces, smiling softly as he caressed Jungkook’s cheek, “Big brother will come back, okay?” he muttered, his smile getting wider, “I promise.”

Jungkook nodded, and only then did Jimin pull back and get to his feet, walking towards Yoongi. He grabbed his hand quickly and started walking at a fast pace, “Let’s go before I start crying,” he muttered, making Yoongi let out a loud, fond laugh.

Seokjin and Namjoon welcomed them with enthusiasm, bright smiles on their faces which Jimin returned fully. They sat down at the table and conversed as Seokjin brought the steaming pot of potato stew to the table, making everyone shut up immediately and dig in as soon as their bowls were filled. In the middle of dinner, something popped up in Yoongi’s mind.

“Do you guys want a kid?” he asked, making the couple look up with wide eyes.

“I mean,” Seokjin turned to his husband, unsure, “of course we want a kid, but why do you ask?”

Yoongi made eye contact with Jimin, who seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “There was a boy we met in the village,” Jimin responded instead of him, “He didn't have parents, his friend told us.”

“He should be no older than five,” Yoongi added, “Really quiet. His name is Jungkook, you would like him.”

“He’s the sweetest little kid,” Jimin continued, passionate, “I promise, he’s lovely, he would be a good son. Besides, he looks like he could help with the chores, he doesn't seem like a weak kid, and—”

“Jimin,” Namjoon muttered, silencing the boy’s frantic talking, “you don't have to tell all of this to us, you don't have to try so hard to convince us.” He glanced at his husband, who was gnawing on his bottom lip thoughtfully as he stared back, “We could think about it, right, love?” Namjoon questioned, “It’s not like we weren’t planning on looking into it anyway.”

Seokjin was quiet for a few seconds, before he nodded his head, “We could,” he said approvingly, “He sounds like a sweetheart,” he said to reassure the golden haired boy sitting across from him. Jimin smiled so brightly that it would put the stars to shame.

“Thank you,” he muttered, to which Jin responded by giving him a small, closed mouthed smile.

After dinner, Yoongi sat Jimin on his bed, telling him that he wanted to show him something with flushed cheeks. Jimin smirked at that, asking whether he wanted to show his love again, at which Yoongi’s blush intensified. He shook his head, dipping his hand beneath his pillow to pull out a doll. “It’s you,” he muttered as he handed the rag doll to Jimin, who was staring at it with eyes as big as saucers, “I told you I used to be an admirer.” He sat next to Jimin on the mattress, staring straight at his lap to avoid eye contact, feeling much too embarrassed to do so.

Jimin all but jumped on top of him, and Yoongi really did love him that night.

Yoongi woke up in the dark, shivering because of the open window, chills on his naked skin. The bed was cold next to him, and a sudden rush of panic washed over him. He grabbed his pants to cover himself with, jumping out of the bed and frantically searching for a sign of his lover. He jumped out of the window into the night, running as fast as he possibly could to the rocks. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Jimin, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, sitting atop of the rocks as he gazed upon the seemingly endless ocean. Yoongi let out a sigh, his frantically beating heart calming down ever so slightly. And, as if the planets had aligned, Jimin turned to see him that very moment, his lips stretching out to a smile immediately. I could get used to this, Yoongi thought, as he all but jogged towards where Jimin was.

“What are you doing here, love?” he questioned when he reached him, immediately climbing on top of the rocks and sitting behind Jimin so that he could pull the boy flush against his chest, his arms circling around his waist and pulling him impossibly closer. He pressed his lips to the back of his head as Jimin all but melted into the embrace.

“I wanted some fresh air,” Jimin replied, a small smile decorating his lips.

Yoongi buried his nose in the crook of his neck, his scent working to calm him down, “Please don't do that again,” he muttered quietly, leaving kisses on the boy’s shoulders, “I was so scared, I thought you had gone back.”

Jimin paused at that, before craning his neck to look at his lover, making him raise his head to return his gaze. Jimin’s eyes dropped to Yoongi’s lips, and he didn't even hesitate before leaning in to press a chaste kiss on them, his lover very much appreciating the gesture as he kissed him back. When Jimin pulled away ever so slightly so that their breaths were still one, he whispered a quiet, “Sorry,” making Yoongi whisper back that it was fine. They kissed again, and again, until they lost count and their lips were more connected than not. And when they finally stopped, the sun was rising slowly. Yoongi felt Jimin tense up in his arms.

“About Jungkookie,” Jimin started, seemingly wanting to distract himself from the view, “I want them to adopt him because… there’s something, I don't know what it is, but it’s there. He’s so familiar, it’s as if I forced my brain enough I would know, but I… I have no idea,” he muttered sadly, “I don't know why he’s so familiar to me, and I don't know why I want him to be happy and have loving parents. All I know is that I’d do anything for his happiness.”

Yoongi thought for a second, “Maybe he’s linked with your previous life?” he reckoned, making the boy shrug.

It was silent for a while, the two of them only watching the rising sun, “It’s weird to see her like this,” Jimin mumbled, his voice tight, “This is not what she looks like when she shows herself to me. She’s not just a ball of light, she’s beautiful.”

Yoongi gnawed on his bottom lip, wondering if he should ask the question that had been in his mind for a while, “What exactly are you?” he questioned, “I know that you’re not human, but are you the sun? Or does she just keep you there to keep her company?”

Jimin was quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking about what to answer with, “A little bit of both,” he ended up saying, “When I was reborn in her castle, her and I became connected, and I became a part of her. We’re the same and different at the same time, a soul split in two different entities. She’s me, and I am her. Even when I don't see her physically, I can sense her presence, because her presence is mine. I was so lonely because in the end, I was by myself. The same being, although in different bodies, is still the same being.” He turned his head to look at his lover, “Do you get it?”

Yoongi laughed bashfully, “I’m afraid not,” he admitted, hugging his lover closer, “But I don't think I need to understand. All I need to know is that I love you and what you are— whatever that is.”

Suddenly, the sun stopped rising, disappearing from the slowly brightening sky, leaving it pitch black like it had been before. Yoongi looked around in confusion mixed with panic, his heart starting to hammer in his chest once again. In front of them, a small ball of light appeared, coming out of the ocean as it grew in size. A head appeared first, followed by a body covered with expensive looking robes, glinting like gold. A few seconds later, a woman was standing right in front of them, her beautiful skin emitting a bright light, her golden hair so long that it was being dragged on the floor along with her robes. She almost looked as if she was floating, her movements elegant and light. Yoongi had to avert his eyes, the light coming from the woman so strong that it all but blinded him.

“Jimin.” Her voice was soft and yet it radiated power, it was echoing in Yoongi’s head, “Time to go home.”

Jimin moved back so that he was closer to Yoongi, seemingly undisturbed by the light shining in his face, his face contorted with anger and despair, “No,” he said, his tone certain, “I’m not going back there, you can't force me.” He swallowed harshly, “You are not taking me away from my home again, I am not letting you erase my memories this time. Not again.”

Her beautiful face was marred with her apparent annoyance, “Jimin, it is unreasonable to stay here, on this piece of dirt, living a short life that will be concluded with you dying of old age, or disease, or something much worse.” Her expression softened a bit, she reached out a hand, “Please, boy, come with me. It is lonely without your presence, the castle is much too large for me to be by myself. Please, stop this, come home,” she pleaded.

“This is my home!” Jimin yelled, making her flinch, “Earth is my home, I had been wondering why I was feeling such emotions for this planet, before I learned that it was because this used to be my home, it still is.” His hand covered Yoongi’s, holding it tightly, “Yoongi is my home, Sun.”

Her gaze flickered to Yoongi as if she was only know becoming aware of his existence. Her eyes squinted with fury, “You.” Her voice was burning Yoongi inside out, his entire body seemed to be set on fire, his insides churning with warmth. It wasn't like Jimin’s warmth that made him want to snuggle up to him. No, this was a deadly warmth, feeling as if it could kill him, turn him into ash right then and there. “You managed to get to him again,” she all but hissed, and Yoongi had never been more confused in his entire life.

Jimin seemed to be in a similar state. His eyes wide, he asked, “What are you even talking about?”

Angry, the woman raised an accusing finger, pointing at Yoongi, “He has managed to get inside your head again!” she cried, “I had thought it would be over once he was dead, but he has enchanted you again!”

Jimin jumped to his feet, standing in between Yoongi and the woman’s accusing finger, a scowl on his pretty face, “He has not done anything to me!” he yelled, “I love him, is all! I fell in love with him, it was not his fault!”

She had a terrorised expression on her face, her beautiful features contorted with something akin to agony, as if hearing the very words caused a deep sorrow within her heart, “My boy, don't you see that this is all meaningless?” she all but invoked, “Don't you see that there is no future on this Earth? You will grow old and die.” She placed her delicate hand on her chest, “But with me, you will always stay beautiful and young. You will never age, your soft skin will not become harsh to the touch like paper, your sky blue eyes will not get clouded over. Don't you see, boy, that you can have everything with me? Whatever you want, I shall provide.” She was practically begging now, and Yoongi could swear there were tears, looking like drops of pure gold, glistening over her beautiful eyes. It was striking, how much she looked like Jimin. Her eyes, her skin, her hair were all the same as the boy’s, all beautiful and glowing in the darkness surrounding them.

Jimin’s eyes softened, he took a step closer to her, taking her slender hands into his own, “My dear sun, you know how much I love you.” She nodded her head, holding onto Jimin’s hands tighter as if she was afraid he would slip away from her hands. He sighed deeply, averting his eyes, “But I cannot come with you. Not again.” He turned to Yoongi, smiling at him softly, “I love him too much. I love the Earth too much. I’m sorry.” He let go of her hands, turning his back to her and walking towards Yoongi, “You must rise, now. You cannot spend any more time here, the people of Earth need your light to survive. You must go.” He held out his hands for Yoongi, motioning for him to get to his feet.

“W-wait!” Jimin turned around upon hearing her cry, finding her with an insecure expression marring her beautiful features, her arms wrapped around her own torso protectively. Jimin watched her tentatively, his hand gripping Yoongi’s. “Why do you love this human so much?” she asked quietly, “Why can you not love me as much as you love him?”

At that, Jimin’s expression softened. “Because,” he said gently, “you’re me. And I cannot love myself as much as I love him.”

She snapped her gaze to him, tears flowing freely out of his eyes and rolling down her smooth cheeks, “Come with me,” she begged once more, before turning her gaze towards Yoongi once again. This time, there was no poison in the way she was looking at him, “You,” she called out to him, “my boy is sacrificing an eternal life and having everything in his palm to be with you. His love for you is so grand that it is making him refuse what is smart, just so that he can be with you.” Her gaze sent a shiver down Yoongi’s spine, “Are you prepared to sacrifice everything for him as well?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered without a second of hesitation. Yes, of course he was ready to sacrifice anything and everything.

Her gaze softened, “Boy, do you think you can leave Earth to be with your beloved?” Jimin’s eyes enlarged, he craned his neck to look at Yoongi. She continued, “One thing you boys are not realising is that Jimin cannot live on Earth.” Both of them snapped their gazes at the woman, who was looking straight at the sand, “The only thing keeping him alive is my soul in his body. He was supposed to turn into a star when he died, but he was reborn as my other half immediately. He will turn into a star if he leaves the castle and rejects me.” For the first time, she looked small, guilty, “I am sorry, boys, but I cannot let Jimin die.”

Yoongi’s brain was frantically searching for a solution, when it found one. Calmly, he walked towards the pair, not averting his eyes although it was hard to look at the woman. “You’re right,” he said, “We cannot let Jiminie die.” He took the boy’s hand in his own, holding it tightly, “And my answer is yes.”

She looked pleased, whilst Jimin was looking at him with a confused gaze, “Yes to what?” the boy asked, his brows furrowed.

Yoongi smiled at him, “She is asking me to leave Earth behind to be with you.” He turned to face her again, “Are you not?”

She nodded, her lips stretched out in a small smile. But Jimin looked frantic, horrified. He tugged on Yoongi’s hand, looking at him with huge eyes, “You cannot!” he cried desperately, “Yoongi, this is your home! What about Namjoon and Jin? What about the village? What about the ocean? You cannot leave the Earth, I shall not allow it!”

Yoongi smiled at him fondly, raising his hand to caress his lover’s cheek. Jimin leaned into the touch despite of himself, his eyes getting teary, “You cannot,” he said once again, his voice like a whisper, “I can't ask for something like this from you. I can't ask you to leave your home behind.”

Yoongi craned the boy’s neck and raised his chin to place a soft kiss on his forehead, pulling back to admire his eyes that were glistened over with unshed tears, “You are my home,” he whispered, and it was all that it took for the previously unshed tears to roll down the boy’s cheeks, leaving wet tracks where they went down. Yoongi wiped them all away, his smile never faltering, “As long as I’m away from you, I will be homesick.” He turned to the woman again, “Can I say my goodbyes to my family before we go?”

She nodded, “I shall get going,” she told them, her perfect lips curved into a perfect smile, “Jimin knows the way up.” And with that, she was gone, leaving the perfectly bright day sky behind. She was back to her form as a glowing orb, already up in the sky. Yoongi stared at her for a few seconds, eyes squinted from the way she was shining brightly, and he smiled.

When he turned his head back to the boy in front of him, he found him with his gaze directed to the floor, “You don't have to do this,” the boy muttered, “You love Earth, you need to stay at your home. I can just visit you every now and then, can I not?”

Yoongi held the boy’s chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing him to look up, into his eyes, “I told you, it is you that is my home.” He smiled softly at the boy’s eyes that were so full of wonder, so full of awe. Jimin looked like the very children he had been playing with just the other day, innocent and so full of life, so full of warmth. Yoongi didn't know how else to express his emotions towards the boy, so he settled for kissing him tenderly.

When they separated, Jimin kept his eyes closed, seemingly in bliss, giving Yoongi the time he needed to stare at his lover without a drop of shame. Slowly, Jimin’s eyes fluttered open again, and he looked back at the boy in front of him with so much love that something contracted in Yoongi’s chest, making it impossible for him to breathe. However, he realised that he didn't mind it, it was a type of pain he wanted to feel forever, until the end of time. He wanted that dull ache of being filled to the brim with emotions to last for as long as he was alive.

He took Jimin’s hand again, tugging at it towards his house.

Yoongi and Jimin sat with Namjoon and Seokjin, watching as the sun went down on the horizon. Jimin let out a sigh, leaning into his lover’s embrace, “You know, I had never seen the sunset before,” he muttered, earning a low hum from Yoongi, “It’s beautiful,” he breathed out.

Yoongi craned his neck to look at him, a playful smile playing on his lips, “Not as beautiful as you, sunshine,” he flirted, earning a loud groan from both Namjoon and Seokjin.

“Falling in love was not a good thing for you, brother,” Namjoon said agitatedly, “You have become way too soft, you’re like mush.” Yoongi smacked the boy upside the head, making him yelp and cover the back of his skull with his hands.

“You don't get to say anything about how “mushy” I am,” he growled, “I’ve been living with you and Jin for years, I’ve seen way too many things. Most of them I couldn't get out of my head for weeks. Like they were fucking stuck to the insides of my eyelids.” He shuddered. Jimin only giggled and snuggled up to his lover more.

It was silent for a while, peaceful, before Seokjin spoke with a soft voice, “I can't believe you’re leaving.” It was something they were all thinking about, yet were too afraid to put into words. They really were leaving, Yoongi was going to live with Jimin, live an eternal life, whilst his family would get old and eventually die. The very thought was enough to send a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.

“We will come to visit you,” Jimin promised, holding onto Yoongi’s hand like he knew what the boy was thinking about, “And we'll make sure to be around enough for Jungkookie.”

They had talked it over again, and the couple was willing to take the young boy in. Jimin had been swimming in ecstasy upon hearing the news, giving them both a huge hug and almost crying into their shoulders. The couple had hugged him back just as tightly, telling him that there was no reason to be worried about, as they would take care of Jungkook like he was their actual son and would give him a loving, warm home to grow up in.

As the sun let her place to darkness, they knew that they had to go. They all rose to their feet, Namjoon and Seokjin both gave the couple tight hugs, tears spilling from their eyes. Namjoon threatened Yoongi that if they forgot about their promise and didn't visit them, he would haunt them when he became a star. Yoongi laughed at his brother, his own tears making it hard for him to see. He reassured him that this wasn't farewell, but a mere “see you later”. His brother laughed at that, hugging him one last time before he let go, watching from afar as Jimin and Yoongi walked to the edge of the ocean, hand in hand.

Jimin placed a hand on Yoongi’s face, watching his face intently, “Are you ready for this?” he asked, and all Yoongi gave him was a soft smile and a nod. That seemed to be all Jimin needed, as he kissed his lover deeply, and the world around them disappeared. For a second, it was only them in the darkness, kissing and holding one another tightly. When Yoongi’s feet hit the ground again, he pulled away to look into his lover’s eyes, only to find him staring at him with awe. He furrowed his brows confusedly.

“Yoongi… you hair.” Yoongi had no idea what he was talking about. Jimin pushed his fingers into his hair, his eyes huge, “It’s… it’s silver, Yoongi.”

If Yoongi hadn't been confused before, he certainly was now. A mirror summoned right in front of him when he wished for one, and the sight he saw was mind wrecking. His brown hair had replaced itself with a silver colour, tinted with a pale blue. His eyes widened upon seeing his reflection on the mirror, his breath stuck in his throat. He carefully, tentatively picked up a few strands of his hair, inspecting it in the small, silver mirror. His eyes were different as well, they were darker than before, as black as the night sky.

That enough should have been surprising enough, but Jimin let out a gasp and all but ran towards a window, his eyes as big as saucers. When Yoongi followed him and looked out of the window, he spotted a silver orb, smaller than the sun and the Earth, but sparkling in the dull darkness. It was absolutely breathtaking. She, Yoongi realised, was breathtaking.

“Who is she?” Jimin asked, his eyes full of awe, when Yoongi smiled fondly and circled his arms around his lover’s waist.

“It’s me,” he replied, “Or, a part of me. I think I understand what you were talking about before, about you and the sun being two halves of a whole soul.” He hugged him tightly against his chest, holding him close.

Jimin was absolutely stunned, his lips hanging open in his surprise, “What is her name?” he managed to ask, and it just made Yoongi’s smile warmer.

“Moon.”

(And when they made love, the people of the Earth were stunned to see the sun being covered by the moon.)