it’s with a jump that yoongi finds his way back to the ground. he’s surrounded by boxes and boxes, one on top of another, some stacked dangerously, but he’s not worried enough to take one down.
a single ray of light seeps into the room, like an unwelcome visitor, and he sighs.
packing has always been an activity that he actually takes pleasure in - there’s a method to the madness surrounding him, after all - but today… today, packing means something different.
he has a different destination this time. a trip that he will take alone.
he’s stuck in a reverie when he hears namjoon’s off-key singing in the hallway connecting all of their rooms.
“don’t want to feel you… don’t want you…” namjoon croons, big headphones blocking out all other sound. his body is swaying in a way that reminds yoongi of those strange inflatable dancers used for advertisements - just limbs flailing about, no real finesse.
yoongi can only grin, scoffing slightly before he makes his way back to his room.
it honestly feels like just yesterday when i joined your group. i call it “yours” because you began whatever we were going to be, the first member of bts, and it’s still your group because you’ve led us through it all.
winning for the first time on an awards show, winning our first daesang… the trophies, the accolades, everything has started to pile on top of one another.
our success has surpassed the dreams you and i used to share when we were still at the first dorm, awaiting instruction from pd-nim, but more than that - we were just waiting for our chance to show them all what we had (what we still have, i like to think). we both were greedy, anxious even - i wanted so badly to prove to myself, above everyone else, that the decision to just fuck everything and go for it was worth it.
i have you to thank for a lot that’s happened. for leading us for so long, for sticking with the agenda even if it’s not what we had envisioned in the beginning, for creating music for us, for the fans, for creating music with me, for being our voice to the public, for putting on a brave face every day.
i’ve never been able to say it in person, which is maybe why i’m writing this out now, but namjoon, you are selfless, even in moments you think you are being selfish. your talents to write and create have done so much for so many. i hope you find what makes you happiest, if you haven’t found it already.
i’ll always be here for you.
he can’t find the fucking tape for his life.
exasperated, yoongi gives up and walks to his open door, sticking his head out to yell across the foyer, “anyone have any tape?”
“yeah, hold on!” he hears from just the next door over and then, seokjin is launching a roll of blue packing tape at his head and yoongi has to duck before it hits him square in the forehead.
“yah! hyung, watch it!”
he only hears a windshield-wiper laugh in return. then, seokjin manifests in front of him again.
“say, yoongi-yah, have you seen my bag?”
there’s a pause and yoongi opens his mouth, but he beats him to it.
“did you see my bag? did you see my bag?” seokjin is biting his lip, failing to not laugh at his own joke.
yoongi can only shake his head in response.
no one can beat jin-hyung, he thinks. what a menace to humankind.
as i write this, i’m thinking the same thing you’d probably think if you ever chanced upon this letter (which you won’t, sorry) - what in the hell?
i didn’t say much when we were roommates, or really at all, but jin-hyung, you’re the best roommate i’ve ever had. for giving me my space and the peace and quiet i wanted at the end of each day, thank you. for respecting who i am, after we each take all of it off - the makeup, the shiny clothes, everything - and wind down after a long day, thank you.
it’s funny how well we get along actually. as i look back now, you’re the only one i called hyung and i’m glad that that was the case. it takes someone special to bring laughter - no matter how much i cringed at your dad jokes (seriously, you make yourself older than you already are) - and light into any room. i was glad to see your insecurities fade over time - glad to see that i wasn’t the only one who started not giving a fuck, really.
for what it’s worth, jin-hyung, as much as you think you’re lacking in vocals or performance, trust me when you’ve lent magic to our tracks and to the group. “epiphany” was an epiphany.
ah, shit. yeah, no, that was too much. let’s get back on track. as i was saying.
you’re like a child, sometimes more of a maknae than jeongguk himself, but you’re also a leader in your own right. a hyung through and through, and i think we’re lucky to have someone older to guide us (and also remind us that it’s okay to act and be young too).
hyung, i hope you never change.
yoongi is walking back to his room, step-stool in hand, but pauses when he hears hoseok’s voice.
“yeah? what do you need?”
it looks like a hurricane made its way through hoseok and jimin’s shared room - clothes, shoes, and everything in between is littered across their floor. hoseok has a handful of shirts and he looks torn, mouth pursed in thought.
“you think any of these are good to keep?”
yoongi can almost pick out some of the tour merchandise over the years in the stack hoseok has and his grip on the stool is just a little bit harder.
hoseok turns his attention from the shirts to yoongi when he doesn’t hear a response.
“yeah, seok. all of them still look pretty good to me.”
hoseok nods once in understanding and they share a small smile before yoongi makes the trek back to his room.
what i’ve learned over the years is that as much as appearances make it so that we’re polar opposites, we’re actually a lot more similar than anyone could ever imagine. people are usually surprised if i say more than a “hi”, let alone if i act goofy - and it’s the same for you when you’re serious. no one knows what to make of us then.
thinking of that reminds me that i didn’t know what to make of you when we first met. your passion and gift for dance was obvious - you lived and breathed easiest when we were in the practice room, looking yourself in the mirror and watching us come together through the choreography and music. i have always believed in the potential of bts as a group of singers, dancers, rappers, but you’ve had a huge, if not the biggest part, in making us performers.
the truth is, you’ve asked me for advice on how to do this music thing better, how to rap faster, harder, with impact, but you allowed me to come to you for advice on how to stay motivated even though we all get tired, how to re-energize, how to take care of myself. so thank you for being there and for answering questions i didn’t know i had until i was asking them.
thank you for your strength.
yoongi wipes his brow of sweat before slumping down against the wall.
after spending the last hour trying to fit some of his old equipment into one box, he wonders if he should take his nap now.
he scoffs, nudging the box aside in one sweep and cringing when a small subwoofer falls out as a result.
he definitely needs a break.
yoongi pads to the kitchen, in hopes of finding some sustenance and finding the fridge near empty.
it’s when he’s reaching for some remaining packets of ramen that he hears footsteps.
“no, eomma, i’m actually almost done with most of my stuff, it’s hard to believe, right? i’ve spent the last couple of minutes trying to find tannie’s favorite toy, but it’s probably under my bed, i’m never sure where he drops things…” taehyung laughs.
yoongi doesn’t turn around, smiling to himself as taehyung chatters on.
“oh! hyung, are you making food?” taehyung asks, eyeing the packets left ripped open on the counter. he comes closer, phone still in hand.
“eomma, i’ll talk to you later, i’m gonna eat with yoongi-hyung!”
brat didn’t even ask, yoongi thinks before laying out an additional bowl anyway. the other is still on the phone, but glances quickly at yoongi, smiling so hard in gratitude that yoongi warms instantly.
“yes, yes, i’m in good hands, eomma,” taehyung chirps and yoongi’s eyes close in mirth.
“hyung says hi, yes, eat well, i’ll see you soon! yes, bye!”
taehyung scuffles toward the table where he’s already seated.
“thanks, hyung. this smells so good,” he begins, but yoongi only waves his words off before gesturing towards the steam.
“eat, taehyungie, before it gets cold.”
they eat quietly, slurps of contentment occasionally escaping taehyung. yoongi moves to get up once he finishes, but a hand is already sweeping across the table to clear it.
“don’t worry, i got it, hyung. thanks again.” there’s that bright smile again.
yoongi almost protests, but decides to concede. but not before grinning back.
so. you’re from daegu too?
you were a mess of limbs and bones flailing around, you practically hopped into the dorm, just energy in human form and i was terrified of you.
no, seriously. at the time, i thought you were everything i thought i wasn’t - loud, innocent, charismatic in your own way. youth, youth, youth, you were youth - i felt like i had lived a hundred lives before i met all of you and by that time, i hadn’t shared what i had gone through before bts. you had none of the persistent ache that comes with dreaming. you’re the other side of it - the seemingly endless positivity, the energy, the happiness. being around you for as long as i have has retaught me all of that.
i’m glad that first impressions are just first impressions because i never would have guessed the extent of your maturity. taehyungie, you are more wise and clever than anyone may ever know and i feel lucky that i got to bear witness to you showing the world your many talents. that boy that crashed through our first dorm’s door, he’s still there, but he’s also grown into himself, as we all have.
i’m proud of you.
yoongi knows he’s fucked up when he sits up in bed, feeling too dazed and too hot. his room is dark, which can only mean he overslept. he should’ve set an alarm before napping.
he hurriedly puts on his slippers, before shuffling outside and closing the door behind him.
as expected, it’s pitch-dark too and the doors to the others’ rooms have been shut. yoongi groans silently.
just how long was i out for?
before he can fully come to senses, a door opens slowly, letting light peek into the hallway.
“oh, yoongi-hyung, it is you. what are you still doing up?”
his eyes have adjusted somewhat and he can see jeongguk in the doorway now. the desktop in the younger’s room is brightly lit. probably gaming again.
yoongi grunts in response, still annoyed at himself.
“napped too long.”
jeongguk laughs, but not loudly.
“typical. did you finish, at least?” packing, yoongi knows he means.
yoongi scratches his neck before answering.
jeongguk looks back into his own room, the video game’s sounds softly playing in the background.
there's a sheepish lilt to the end of jeongguk's sentence and the younger's nose twitches out of habit.
that means no, yoongi thinks. he instantly feels like scolding jeongguk, but thinks better of it.
it’s quiet between them until yoongi speaks again, “jeongguk-ah, don’t stay up too late.”
“i won’t, hyung. good night?”
in the dark, he can see jeongguk’s cheeks puff up in a small grin.
“yeah, good night.”
you and i have always been the silent ones in the group. the others, they’re all strong in personality, voice, and opinion, while we’ve always preferred letting the noise settle down before we reach any conclusion. we run on logic and fact, a little less on emotion.
recently, i (and the rest of your hyungs) have come to realize that you’ve grown up in front of our very eyes. while it’s never lost on us, on me, that you’re our beloved youngest, it’s another thing to see it and actually understand. you were the most impressionable, the most malleable out of all of us when we became part of bangtan, and it shows. there are pieces of us in you, but there are pieces of you in all of us too.
i think you’re physically and mentally strong, but you don’t always have to be. don’t be strong for our sake, jeongguk-ah, you owe yourself the chance to be happy and the chance to be as young as you are. if you ever see us struggle, know that your efforts to continue and face challenges head-on is more than enough. don’t shoulder the burden of fame or hectic schedules by yourself - we never walk alone. we figure it out together.
keep perfecting your crafts - since i met you (when you were only 15), you’ve shown that you are limitless. your potential and talent know no bounds and i’m content i was witness to your growth. you’ve come into your own and as your hyung, i couldn’t be prouder.
i can’t wait to continue to see your name in lights.
by the time it’s dawn, yoongi is up again and sealing the last of his boxes. he couldn’t really sleep after his too-long-of-a-nap yesterday.
to be fair, the last couple of nights in their dorm had been filled with sleepless hours and an endless flurry of activity for all of them.
he rips off the last bit of tape with his mouth and pats it down flat on one particularly large container.
yoongi grunts in exertion, making his way back to his closet and gives it another once-over.
a small box sits on the bottom of his shelves - once upon a time, it had been buried under his sweaters, but now that everything’s been cleared, it’s the only thing left in the space, save for a couple of moth balls in the corner.
it’s a pretty navy shade of blue and he runs his hands on its engravings. he remembers exactly where he bought it.
yoongi shivers, trying to will his thoughts of jimin, the duty-free shop in the airport, that night, everything away. this again?
try as he might, he can’t help but close his eyes to images of his favorite smile, his favorite laugh.
yoongi shakes his head, peeved at himself, because it’s been years and he still can’t shake this out of his system.
he’s right where he was, where he’s always been - lost in a haze of park jimin, park jimin, park jimin.
there’s a knock at his door and yoongi looks to the digital clock on his bedside table.
5:11am. who would even be awake at this time? they no longer had pressing schedules that warranted getting up before the sun has risen.
yoongi tosses the box to his bed, its contents spilling across his sheets, but he pays it no mind as he travels to grab the door.
he unlocks it, only to be greeted by jimin.
jimin’s voice slightly cracks, like he just woke up. or maybe just didn’t sleep well.
either way, yoongi can feel his heart race at quadruple its normal pace and wills himself to calm down.
“jimin-ah, you’re awake?”
but the younger’s eyes are focusing on him and him alone and yoongi can sense jimin raising something, in a move to show him what he’s clutching in his hand.
yoongi’s smacking his lips, feels the soju hit the bottom of his stomach. instantly, the air around him feels warmer and his shoulders loosen ever so slightly.
nights when they have free schedules are best spent at the studio - no one knows when inspiration can strike and yoongi would be damned if he lets another melody escape just because he's sitting and waiting for something to hit him.
it had been such a long day and he was now the only one left at the company building, or so he thinks.
his computer starts to glow an eerie-looking blue around 1:00 in the morning and yoongi knows he should probably head back already.
he hears a beep behind him, signaling someone’s entrance, and before he can say anything to the intruder, his breath catches and it feels like he swallowed something wrong.
“hyung, come home already.”
jimin, dressed in loose clothing, hair-product and make-up free. beautiful jimin, with his soft voice and small hands.
jimin is in his studio. yoongi had to snap out of it fast.
“how did you even get in here?” yoongi asks, but he already knows the answer.
“you told me your passcode, remember? i’m the only one who knows,” jimin says, a kind of pride in his voice. his lips quirk up slightly and it's so adorable yoongi has to bite his lip before he says something really dumb.
“it’s for stuff like this that i use it. when you’re tired, but refuse to come back to the dorm. c’mon, hyung. come back and get rest. we miss you. i miss you.”
i miss you
i miss you
i miss you
for a couple of seconds, yoongi is still before swiveling his chair to face his computer. the words ricochet in his head.
“y-yeah, i’m coming. give me a second.”
he’s counting in his head the ways in which he shouldn’t be taking anything jimin is saying as anything else, but then again, his heart had always been nothing but a traitor when it came to park jimin.
he hears jimin sigh in relief. suddenly, he feels hands on his shoulders, squeezing the tension out of his body. yoongi does his best not to melt.
it had been a couple of years already, since yoongi realized what he had been feeling.
years since he decided to not do anything about it, because what could he really do about it?
you could tell him, his heart beats, but he's not going to lose to himself. not about this.
it had been a few days since that incident, that yoongi finds himself at his desk in the studio again. this time, he’s furiously writing so he can figure out how to stop feeling.
he's not writing lyrics though. he's writing a letter.
one never to be published, never to be sent.
yoongi signs off with a huff, hand cramping with how hard he's gripped the pen. he can feel his anxiety rise to the surface. why doesn’t he feel any better?
he can't bear to read what's written and almost crumples the sheet before folding it up and tucking it in his coat last-minute.
yoongi can feel it burning a hole in his pocket all the way home.
that night, yoongi grabs his box and tosses the folded paper inside. out of sight, out of mind, i gotta get my shit together.
it’s this letter that jimin is holding in his hand and yoongi feels something in him cave. he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
there’s none of the discomfort or shock on jimin’s face that yoongi had envisioned when he allowed himself to dream of confessing.
instead, it’s just pink cheeks and those searching eyes.
then, jimin, beautiful park jimin, is making his way towards yoongi.
yoongi can feel the other’s breath coming out in puffs.
“you weren’t supposed to see that,” yoongi says, feeling himself give into fear.
fuck, this is happening.
“not ever, hyung?” jimin’s voice, jimin is right here in front of him, so close, so close.
“yoongi-hyung,” he hears before he feels the gap close, because then jimin’s lips are on his. the smallest amount of pressure, hesitant, innocent, and yoongi's home.
it feels like a small eternity before they part and jimin’s eyes are on him again, yoongi’s never felt so bare.
“me too, hyung, me too.”
do you remember the night we rode the car to the airport and you were quiet the whole time?
it had been just us and on a normal day, that suited me just fine.
you and i, we’ve always gotten along, haven’t we? you don’t mind when i’m quiet and in my head, and i soak in every word you say when you’re excited, running on excitement.
it hadn’t been a normal day though, because we were just coming from a concert and you let it slip that you still had so much room for improvement, your voice broke trying to reach the high notes for the umpteenth time, why was it like that even when you tried your hardest?
i couldn’t keep still, knowing you were comparing yourself to others again, to jeongguk, to jin-hyung, when i knew that all we needed was you. when i knew that your voice was one-of-a-kind.
i meant what i said that night, jimin-ah.
never mind the times it’s cracked - your voice will always reign in my heart.
never mind the times you’ve been out of breath on-stage, missing a small step here and there - you’re the only one who can breathe a special kind of life and love into your solos and performances, into our songs.
never mind the times you’ve felt like you weren’t enough - you always have been and always will be more than enough.
there’s a big part of me now that’s afraid, because what can i say or write here that i haven’t let slip already?
just a couple of nights ago, you and i went to grab miyeok-guk, do you remember? you came down with a cold and i had chided you to look after yourself and do you remember what you said to me?
“that’s what i have you for, hyung.”
i expected you to wink, laugh like you do when you’re on charming-jimin mode – i thought the moment would pass like it always did.
(i had been ignoring the tell-tale beat of my heart. it’s unfair that its pace quickens when you’re around, when you say things like that, when you look at me like you can see through everything i’ve built. not fair that i’m weak around you. weak for you. only you.)
like most things in life, the unexpected can spring from the most ordinary of moments.
instead of shrugging it off, you looked up from the steam clouding both of us, rising from the bowls.
“right?” you asked, looking uncertain. the tip of your nose was as red as the tips of my ears must have been. our silence, for the first time, was deafening. did you know?
the relief was written on your face when i nodded. your smile, like the sun i refused to let into my room, was blinding.
what do i make of that, jimin-ah? you’ve known since our debut days that i care about you. but what did you mean when you asked? did that mean you had caught on?
that i’ve been in love with you for years now?
did i let my feelings bleed into real life?
had i been obvious?
i have to ask, even though you’ll never see this letter, if you’ve caught onto how i feel.
and the thing is, i’m okay with never getting an answer because this is a question i will never ask out loud.
it’s enough to have written this, but i can never write you out of my heart.
you’ve always been the one.
i love you, jimin-ah.
- from, yoongi