Chapter Text
Jeongguk’s well familiar with the chaos of the green room: the overlapping conversations, the hum of the hair dryers, the low thump of the music as it plays from a portable speaker. Over the years, it’s grown to be something he doesn’t mind—it’s one of the many things he’s gotten used to after being an idol for so long—but there are still times when it all gets a bit…much. When the chaos is overwhelming and the noise is grating, there’s nothing more he wants to do than just go home.
“I want to go home,” he says.
Seokjin, who’s sitting next to him, yawns. “Me too,” he replies.
As an idol, there’s a lot of sitting around and waiting. A lot of being poked and prodded at too, and oftentimes these things happen concurrently. You’re bored and tired and waiting for the time when you actually get to do the fun part of your job and a stylist comes up to you to reapply powder and tuck a strand of hair that’s fallen out of place. Then you sit super still and wait so as you don’t make the stylist’s life harder, but somehow that same strand of hair falls out of place and there she is again, tucking it back in. Then you sit. And wait. And get prodded at. Rinse and repeat.
He isn’t sure what they’re waiting for now; they’d just finished the fan sign to promote their latest album, but it’s clear that their work day is far from over. Their stylists are still hovering and tucking strands of hair in, cameras are set up all around the green room, and Jeongguk’s pretty sure their manager is on the side arranging logistics for something.
Jeongguk frowns. “What do we have after this?” he asks Seokjin.
Seokjin wrinkles his nose as he thinks. “A…photoshoot,” he replies slowly. “I think we’re shooting in subunits.”
Oh, right. Jeongguk remembers hearing about something like that. “Oh, yeah. I’ll be with Jimin-hyung.”
“Lucky.” Seokjin stretches, yawning again. “I’m with Namjoon.” His head lolls off the couch and falls onto Jeongguk’s shoulder as his eyes grow half-lidded. He’s in prime neck-slicing position, and Jeongguk doesn’t resist the impulse.
“Hey,” Seokjin exclaims immediately, pulling away and slapping Jeongguk on the thigh. “You’re truly a brat, you know that?”
Jeongguk slaps him back. “Don’t fall asleep on me. I’ll leave you here if you do.”
“Why can’t you just carry me into the van?” Seokjin whines. He starts ranting, and the tone of his voice is enough to make Jeongguk start giggling. “After everything I’ve done for you—fed you, bathed you, brushed your hair, gave you the clothes off my back during the harsh Seoul winters—”
“You did not—”
“—and you can’t do this one thing for me? Just this one thing?” Seokjin tries to lean on Jeongguk’s shoulder again, but Jeongguk slides down the couch to avoid it. Which makes Seokjin lean even more, which then makes Jeongguk slide down even more. By the time they’re done Jeongguk’s sure they look ridiculous, bent almost ninety degrees in a strange position.
“Jeongguk-ssi, your hair,” Jeongguk’s stylist calls. That’s enough to have them both straightening up in their seats, trying their hardest to make sure their hair is still somewhat presentable.
Still, his stylist walks over and fixes his hair, brushing out the one strand of hair and tucking it firmly back into place.
“God,” Jeongguk says when she’s gone, looking around the green room. “What are we supposed to be doing right now? Where’s everyone else?”
Seokjin shrugs. “No idea,” he replies. “I think Jimin and Taehyung went off to explore or something.”
At that exact moment, the door to the green room opens, Hoseok and Namjoon spilling in. They don’t spare Seokjin and Jeongguk a glance as they move through the room, deep in conversation with each other. Namjoon says something that makes Hoseok laugh, doubling over and slapping Namjoon on the shoulder.
“Oh,” Seokjin says. “There’s Hobi and Namjoon.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Thanks,” he says sarcastically. “Definitely didn’t see them there.”
The door to the green room opens again, and this time it’s Yoongi who steps in. He’s got a stability brace clipped over his left shoulder, and he seems to be searching for something, his eyes darting around the room quickly. Unlike Hoseok and Namjoon, he freezes when his eyes land on Seokjin and Jeongguk, who are very obviously watching him. His slightly shocked expression settles into something impassive, and he averts his gaze, pretends he didn’t see them, and grabs his phone off the table.
Seokjin’s snort is derisive. “And there’s Yoongi,” he says. His tone is almost scathing. He lets his eyes slip shut after that.
Yoongi joins Hoseok and Namjoon, and Jeongguk watches them curiously, wondering what they’re talking about. It seems…important, Jeongguk deems, judging by how impassioned Namjoon seems to be. Important and fun. Maybe it’s the theme of their next album, or a discussion about a song they’re working on. There’s a part of Jeongguk that wants to wander over and join them.
The more rational part of him knows that there’s no real point to it. Those three haven’t shared anything with him in a long time.
The three of them don’t linger; it’s not long until they’re out the door once more, still deep in conversation. Once they’re gone, Seokjin breathes out a sigh and shifts around to find a more comfortable position on the couch.
“I need a nap,” he mumbles, then he slips a hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a small, plastic packet of gummy worms.
It’s not unusual for Seokjin to have a packet of gummies; he often gets cranky when he’s hungry, and he’s recently taken to keeping one on him for long work days such as today. What is unusual is that he has one with him now. Jeongguk knows for a fact that he didn’t have any with him before the fan sign—their stylists are often adamant that they don’t keep anything in their pockets so as not to ruin the silhouette. He’s also been with Seokjin since they’d gotten backstage, so he knows that Seokjin didn’t grab one from their snack table.
Besides, Jeongguk doesn’t think this came from the snack table—it doesn’t look like any of the brands they usually get. The packaging is designed with black and purple whirls in the background, clearly intended to represent the galaxy, with white dots to symbolize stars. In the foreground, it features baby versions of the BT21 characters they came up with in 2017, looking lost and crying. It’s strangely pretty, and yet strangely surreal. The only way he can even tell that there are gummy worms inside it is through the small, gummy worm icon in the upper right corner.
Jeongguk peers at it curiously. “Where’d you get that?” he asks.
“Someone gave it to me,” Seokjin replies.
“Who, someone?”
Seokjin shrugs. “Don’t know,” he says. “Just someone. Handed it to me from across the table.”
“From across—you mean a fan gave it to you?” Jeongguk sputters out. When Seokjin doesn’t reply, he continues speaking. “Hyung, we aren’t allowed to accept food from the fans.”
“Once won’t hurt,” Seokjin counters. “Besides, the fan that gave it to me was so sweet. She said she saw it and thought of me because the packaging is just as cute as I am.”
“Right,” Jeongguk says skeptically. He reaches out to grab it from Seokjin. “I don’t think it’s safe to eat that.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, pulling it away from Jeongguk. “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“Poison.”
“You’ve been watching too many spy movies.” Seokjin holds out the package to Jeongguk, pointing at the ridges on the top. “Look. It’s sealed. How could they have poisoned it?”
“There’s probably a way.” Jeongguk ducks his head down to try and get a better look at the packaging. Tots , the label reads in thick, loopy cursive.
He’s never heard of this brand before.
“Maybe—maybe you shouldn’t eat that,” Jeongguk says, feeling uncertainty rise in his chest. “You know, just to be safe.”
Seokjin stubbornly ignores him and rips open the bag. He carefully picks up a gummy worm and pops it into his mouth before Jeongguk can stop him, then holds the packet out to him. “Want one?”
Jeongguk blinks at the bag. “Uh, no thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Seokjin carefully selects another one and pops that into his mouth too, before slipping it back into his pocket. He lets out a quiet, happy moan. “Oh, wow, they’re good.”
There’s a weird, sinking feeling in Jeongguk's stomach. “You know if Namjoon-hyung finds out that you ate food that a fan gave you, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Which is why he never has to know.” Seokjin slides down the couch until his head is resting in such a way that it doesn’t mess up his hair. “Namjoon can be so annoying sometimes.”
“He’s our leader.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like he really cares,” Seokjin counters. “Like I’ll admit it, he’s good at being the group’s spokesperson, especially when we’re dealing with the company, but within the group, he’s just…” He trails off, shakes his head. “I think he only really cares about what Yoongi and Hobi think.”
There’s a slight edge to his voice. Jeongguk gets it though—he doesn’t remember the last time Namjoon had looked at him instead of past him. The same can be said for Yoongi and Hoseok, too; they all always look like they’re mulling something over, way too caught up in their thoughts.
“Anyway, it’s really not a big deal,” Seokjin finishes. He shuts his eyes after that, clearly signaling the end of the conversation.
Jeongguk huffs, turns his attention back to the room at large and tries to find something to do to pass the time. Jimin and Taehyung aren’t back yet, which makes him pout a little—those two are always good fun to play around with. Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon aren’t back either, but they’re pretty exclusionary with their conversations, so it’s not like it really matters if they’re here. Their managers seem busy, their stylists look tired. He could take a camera off one of their cameramen and film some things, but he finds that he’s a little too lazy for that right now.
So he turns back to Seokjin, intending to start up another conversation with him. But to his surprise, Seokjin isn’t there anymore.
Instead, in his place is a child no older than five, staring at him with a dazed expression.
Jeongguk blinks. “Uh?”
For a moment, it looks as if the child can’t hear him. But then he shifts in his seat, blinking a few times like he’s just woken up from a daydream. The haze in his eyes clears off slowly.
Jeongguk looks around, but there doesn’t seem to be anybody keeping an eye on the child. In fact, nobody seems to have noticed the toddler, who’s somehow managed to sneak past their security team and the groups of people that follow them around on a daily basis. He tries to see if he can spot where Seokjin has disappeared to, but he’s nowhere to be found.
The child is now looking at him with wide eyes. “Um, hey,” Jeongguk begins awkwardly, unsure of what to do. “How’d you get in here? Where are your parents?” He looks down, and realizes that the child is sitting in clothes that are five times too large for him. “And your clothes…?”
The child just stares at him. Jeongguk stares back.
It’s weird, because the child looks strikingly familiar. Like, Jeongguk-sees-him-very-often kind of familiar. The longer Jeongguk stares at him, the more he’s convinced that he knows him—the sharp edges of his eyes, the slope of his little nose, the thickness of his lips all come together to form a face that he’s seen before.
In fact, he kind of looks like—
The child’s expression shifts, a hint of panic crossing his features. He looks around, taking in his surroundings, looks down and sees the huge clothes he’s comically wearing.
And then his eyes fill up with tears and he lets out the loudest, highest-pitched wail Jeongguk’s ever heard.
Everyone in the room jumps, heads whipping around to look at the source of the sudden noise. But the attention only serves to make the child cry louder, voice getting shriller and tears flowing down his face. He grips the huge shirt he’s wearing with a fist; some part of Jeongguk’s brain registers that as Seokjin’s shirt, the same one he’d been wearing just a few moments prior.
Jeongguk’s brain short-circuits. There’s a conclusion to be made here, one that he’s having trouble making, simply because there’s just no way—
“Jeongguk-ssi,” one of their managers calls over the din. “Whose child is that?”
“He’s—” The child whimpers in an inhale, and then practically screams louder than his little lungs should allow him to. Jeongguk winces, and so does everyone else in the room.
“Hey,” he says to the child, reaching out a hand in an effort to calm him down. But it’s the wrong thing to do; the child shies away from him like he’s been burned and jumps off the couch. He’s a little wobbly on his legs, but he manages to get his balance and breaks into a full sprint. He deftly avoids chairs and other people’s legs, and the shirt he’s wearing slips off his shoulders and falls to the ground, but he makes it to the other side of the room and crawls under the table.
And now there’s a tiny, naked, crying, Seokjin-lookalike child under the table. This has to be some kind of a prank. It has to be.
“Jeongguk-ssi?” the manager asks again, but Jeongguk ignores him, hopping to his feet and heading towards the table. The Seokjin-lookalike child has tucked himself into the farthest corner of the room curled up in a ball and continuing to cry bloody murder.
“Please stop crying,” he begs as he falls to his knees, trying to meet the child’s eye. “You’re okay, hyu—ah, Seokjin…? Seokjinnie…? Fuck.”
The Seokjin-lookalike child shakes his head, squeezing himself tighter into a ball.
“Where’d he come from?” one of their personal assistants asks, dropping down next to Jeongguk to try and help. “Where are his parents?”
Jeongguk just shrugs.
There’s nothing child-friendly in the green room, so Jeongguk and a few stylists try to calm him down with numerous snacks. It doesn’t really work, because the Seokjin-lookalike child resolutely ignores them as he keeps crying into his knees. It’s a little heartbreaking to witness.
Eventually, the commotion draws in Jimin and Taehyung.
“Woah, what’s going on?” Jimin asks as soon as he enters, puzzledly looking around at the sudden chaos. “Why’s there a crying baby?”
“Jeonggukie made someone’s baby cry,” Taehyung replies, a teasing grin on his face. The expression fades as soon as he catches sight of Jeongguk’s face. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
Jeongguk feels at a loss for words. “Hyungs,” he panics. “Help me.”
At the sight of Jeongguk’s expression, Jimin and Taehyung immediately spring to action. They push through the crowd until they’re right next to him, dropping to their knees and peeking at the Seokjin-lookalike child underneath the table.
“What’s he doing here?” Taehyung asks, wide-eyed in surprise.
“Where are his parents?”
Jeongguk shrugs, focusing on shaking a bag of chips at Seokjin in an effort to distract him.
With three of them crouched down under the table, Jeongguk isn’t sure if they’ve made the situation better or worse. Jimin tries to sing him a lullaby, and Taehyung, notoriously good with kids, makes faces at him, occasionally speaking to him in a quiet voice. Their attempts are futile, though—the Seokjin-lookalike child stays resolutely crying.
“It’s not working,” Jimin says, and the Seokjin-lookalike child cries grow more and more distressed. “Fuck, what happened? What did you do?”
“Why is he naked?” Taehyung asks.
“I didn’t do anything!” Jeongguk replies. “And I don’t know why he’s naked! I–I was hanging out with Jin-hyung, and then he—and then the baby—”
It’s difficult to say I think that Jin-hyung might have turned into a baby out loud. Partly because the idea is ridiculous, and partly because Jeongguk’s still not a hundred percent certain that this isn’t some kind of hidden camera prank.
He tries to crawl under the table. But he hits his head, and the action makes the Seokjin-lookalike child look even more terrified, his eyes filled with fear as he regards Jeongguk.
Jeongguk feels guilty. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he says, pitching his voice as calmly as he can. “I—look, we’re here to help you.”
“We’re friends,” Taehyung says. “Please stop crying.”
“What’s going on?” Namjoon’s voice floats in from the entrance of the doorway, and the three of them turn to find Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi standing by the doorway, looking confused by the commotion. “Why’s the child screaming?”
“I didn’t know someone brought a baby,” Hoseok says. “I didn’t see one the whole day.”
“There’s a child under the table,” Jimin explains. “We don’t know where his parents are.”
That makes both Namjoon and Hoseok’s eyebrows rise. “Where’d he come from, then?” Hoseok asks.
Jimin shrugs.
The Seokjin-lookalike child is practically hoarse now, a raspiness to his cries that wasn’t there earlier, but he’s still screaming, his pitch getting higher and higher. Any higher and Jeongguk’s sure all the windows in this building will shatter.
“Make him stop,” Yoongi says, wincing.
“We’re trying,” Jimin shoots back. He reaches out; the child only tucks himself further into the corner and keeps crying. “God. Please calm down, I—”
“The table,” says Taehyung. “Let’s move it.”
They push themselves to their feet and try to shift the table; the instant it moves the Seokjin-lookalike child immediately darts out from under it and makes a break for the open door.
He’s so fast. Maybe it’s pure fear and adrenaline running through his veins, but he sprints at a speed that seems almost inhuman. He’s agile too, ducking away from outstretched arms, slipping under other tables. He zooms past Hoseok, and literally slides in between Namjoon’s legs.
But just as he’s about to reach the door, he’s scooped up by Yoongi.
“No!” he screams, and it’s the first real word he’s said today. “No, no, no!”
Yoongi keeps the toddler dangled in mid-air. It must be hell on his shoulder; already Jeongguk can see the hint of pain seeping into Yoongi’s features, his confused expression slowly morphing into a wince. But still, Yoongi doesn’t put him down—he keeps the toddler aloft as he continues to wail, flailing his arms and kicking his feet out.
After a moment, he chokes on his own spittle, coughing long enough that he loses his momentum. He takes a deep breath, pries his eyes open, and then just…stops.
He and Yoongi stare at each other, at a loss for what to do next.
Jeongguk takes a moment to catalog his features. His face is all red from the crying and the running, tear tracks down his cheeks and snot dripping down his nose. He looks like a mess, but despite that, it’s so easy to see his resemblance to Seokjin. And it’s clear that Yoongi sees it too, because his expression shutters off, and the downturn of his mouth grows more pronounced. He looks away and tries to put the child back down.
And of course, in a non-surprising turn of events, the Seokjin-lookalike child starts crying again. “No,” he wails, his voice hoarse from use. “No, no, no!”
“Hob-ah,” Yoongi hisses. “Take him.”
Hoseok steps towards him, but the child only struggles more. “No!” he says again. “No, no, no, no!” There’s power behind his kicks; Jeongguk sees Hoseok wince when his foot makes contact with his arm.
“Fuck.” Yoongi shakes his head, and in one swift movement, perches the screaming child on his hip. There’s a beat where the Seokjin-lookalike child just stops, processing what happened. Then, just like magic, all the energy drains out from him, and the Seokjin-lookalike child sniffles and throws his arms around Yoongi’s neck, wiping his face on Yoongi’s shirt.
Yoongi looks displeased. “What the fuck,” he hisses.
The Seokjin-lookalike child mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like bad word.
Yoongi, however, is undeterred. “Where is he?” he demands.
“Where is who?” Hoseok asks, confused.
“Seokjin-hyung.” Ah, of course Yoongi would immediately look for Seokjin. “He has some fucking nerve, bringing his secret child here, of all places.”
Taehyung blinks. “That’s Seokjin-hyung’s child?” he asks, getting to his feet and moving closer.
“Of course it is,” Yoongi replies, scoffing. “He looks exactly like him.”
“No way,” Hoseok adds, crouching down to peek at the child’s face.
“I didn’t know hyung had a son,” Jimin says, also getting to his feet. “He never mentioned anything.”
“Why would he?” Yoongi shoots back. “He knows something like this would fuck up our careers.”
There’s so much vitriol in his voice. If he’s being honest, Jeongguk doesn’t think they’re at a stage in their career where a rumor like this would cause everything they’ve worked for to crumble at their feet, although he’s sure that the fallout wouldn’t be good. Sometimes, he thinks that Yoongi just enjoys being provided an opportunity to be angry at Seokjin.
“Why did he even bring him here?” Yoongi continues, heated. “And why is he letting his son walk around naked?”
On Yoongi’s shoulder, the Seokjin-lookalike child turns to peek at the commotion, then immediately hides his face against Yoongi’s shoulder once he sees everyone staring at him.
“Oh no, hey, it’s alright,” Taehyung coos. “We’re not angry at you. I told you, we’re friends!”
“Where’d Jin-hyung go?” It takes a minute for Jeongguk to realize he’s being spoken to, Jimin looking at him quizzically. “You mentioned you were hanging out with him, right? Where’d he run off to?”
It takes a moment, but Jeongguk finds his words. “I…I didn’t see,” he says carefully.
Jimin blinks. “You didn’t see him leave?”
“No, I…” Jeongguk casts a glance at the child who seems perfectly content in Yoongi’s arms, idly watching as Taehyung makes faces at him. He replays the last fifteen minutes in his head: he and Seokjin talking, Seokjin eating some sour gummy worms, Seokjin suddenly disappearing and being replaced by this lookalike child.
The conclusion is glaring, but Jeongguk needs just a little bit more confirmation.
Shakily, he gets to his feet and heads back to the couch, picking up Seokjin’s pants from where they’d fallen to the floor. He digs through the pockets and manages to find the packet of sour gummy worms, flipping over the packet to inspect the label more closely.
Tots, it reads. Beneath it, a small byline: for baby fun and cuteness overload!
He looks up, feeling all the color drain from his face. About twenty pairs of eyes stare back at him, waiting.
It’s a little easier now to say the words. “Hyungs,” Jeongguk says, voice wavering. “I know you’ll think I’m insane, but I think…I think that child is actually Jin-hyung.”
They don’t believe him at first.
It takes ten minutes for Jeongguk to convince them to hear him out, and another twenty to detail the whole story. At one point, Jeongguk’s certain they don’t want to believe him; Yoongi keeps shaking his head at every word he’s saying, whereas Namjoon looks like he’s barely just holding himself from arguing. Their reaction makes Jeongguk a little resentful, and there’s a part of him that wants to grab them by the shoulders and shake them—Why would I be joking? Why would I lie about this?—but he refrains, just sticks to parroting the same story over and over again until his mouth feels dry and his eyes have filled with tears.
Eventually, they decide to organize a search party for Seokjin. Namjoon’s adamant that Seokjin just has to be around here somewhere, and he, Hoseok and Jimin go off to try and find him. Some of the staff join them in searching, whereas their managers speak with security to try and identify the fan that gave him the gummies. Jeongguk and Taehyung stay behind, and so does Yoongi, who looks unhappy with the fact that the Seokjin-lookalike child is clinging to him. Still, he doesn’t push the toddler away, and even helps Taehyung dress him up in one of Jimin’s spare shirts, holding him still as Taehyung ties knots in strategic places to cover all the bits that need to be covered. It’s still huge on him, but it’ll do for the meantime.
They’re not sure what to do for pants, though. Jeongguk prays to whoever’s up there that he’s at least potty-trained.
An hour later, they call off the search party. Their managers make a few phone calls, the rest of their schedules for the week get canceled, and the six of them head back to the dorms, Baby Jin-hyung in tow.
The state of their dorm is what can only be described as a mess, moving boxes and furniture askew, with clothes haphazardly thrown on every surface. It’s a consequence of moving out—disorganization is at its peak when everyone’s packing and sorting through their things, trying to figure out what to take and what to leave behind. There’s ten years’ worth of life within these walls; Jeongguk only hopes they can figure out how to pack all that before their lease ends.
Namjoon almost trips over a packing box as he lets them all in, takes a few steps, then trips over another one. That tips over the box and sends the contents of it spilling, toys and figurines that Jeongguk’s pretty sure belongs to Taehyung.
“Hey,” Taehyung says, affronted.
“Sorry.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, and immediately crouches down to start picking up his things.
Honestly, Jeongguk’s a little relieved to be moving out. There’s barely any space left in the dorm, what with the amount of stuff they’ve accumulated over the years. Add to that how awkward it is nowadays to live with the other members; there always seems to be some weird, underlying tension in the dorm. In the beginning, it was somewhat manageable—it was only Seokjin and Yoongi who had a problem with each other—but over the years it grew, festered, made it so Jeongguk always felt like suffocating whenever he stepped out of his bedroom. Nowadays, it’s awkward for all seven of them to hang out in the living room together, to even take their meals together. It’s easier in little groups. It’s easier alone, even.
They’ve all got their own lives, their own interests, their own friends, and there’d been no more point to living together when they all started turning up to dance practice individually. When some days, there was just nothing for them to talk about.
Baby Jin-hyung had fallen asleep in the car on their way home, and despite the sudden commotion, he doesn’t even stir, his eyes shut and his breathing deep, his cheek pressed against Yoongi’s shoulder. There's a quiet, hurried discussion to put him in Seokjin’s dorm bed for the time being, and Jeongguk takes his time arranging Seokjin’s pillows around him so that he doesn’t accidentally roll off.
The longer he looks at Baby Jin-hyung, the more certain he gets. This is Seokjin. This has to be.
Back in the living room, the six of them settle on their giant sectional, the events of the day weighing heavily in their minds. The silence is so thick it’s suffocating, and Jeongguk feels a little like he’s choking.
Namjoon’s the first to speak. “So,” he says. “This is really bad.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees slowly.
“He’s a baby,” Jimin says. “Our hyung is a baby.”
Namjoon pins Jeongguk with a gaze that makes him feel like shying away. “Jeongguk,” he says, “are you a hundred percent certain that’s what happened?”
Jeongguk resists the urge to stomp his foot. “Why would I lie about this?” he asks. “Hyung, why would I—do you really think I’d make this up?”
“I’m just saying, maybe you saw something wrong.”
“I know what I saw,” Jeongguk argues. “He was sitting right next to me, and then ten seconds later he was gone and in his place was a naked child who looked exactly like him.”
“Could it be some kind of hidden camera prank?” Jimin pipes up. “Something Jin-hyung set up to fuck with us?”
“If it was, I think Jin-hyung would’ve called it off as soon as he saw us panicking,” replies Jeongguk. “You know Jin-hyung. He’s silly, but he isn’t malicious. He wouldn’t draw it out for this long.”
Jimin deflates. “Yeah, I guess,” he says. “But it’s just so hard to believe. Something like this should be impossible.”
“But it happened,” Jeongguk insists.
“But it’s impossible.”
“But it happened.”
“What Jimin’s trying to say,” Hoseok cuts in, “is that this isn’t really something that happens. In fact, it sounds like it came from a storybook.”
Jeongguk resists the urge to say but it happened, again just because he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears. Instead, he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, slumping back down on his couch.
“We need to figure out what to do next, then,” Hoseok continues. “If this is really him, I mean. If this is really Jin-hyung. He can’t stay like this.”
“Definitely not,” Namjoon agrees. “It’s—we need him back. We have so much work lined up, and we can’t do all that when he’s a toddler.”
“We’ve already had to cancel our music show appearance tomorrow,” Taehyung says worriedly. “And world tour rehearsals start next month. Plus all the interviews we need to do, all the photo shoots. We don’t—” He cuts himself off, takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do,” he finishes, his voice wavering slightly.
Jeongguk wishes he had something to say to comfort Taehyung, but he doesn’t know what to do either. None of them do. It just feels so crazy that this is something they have to deal with. That Seokjin, their eldest hyung, has just been transformed into a child.
“I think firstly,” says Namjoon, “we should tell Producer Bang. If anything, he can try to figure out a way to help us.”
“We should tell hyung’s parents, too,” Jimin volunteers. “I’m sure they’d want to know what happened to him.”
“Definitely.” Namjoon’s eyes flicker with an idea. “Maybe he can even stay with them until this whole mess is sorted out.”
Jeongguk blinks. “You’ll give hyung back to his parents?”
“I mean, yeah,” Namjoon replies like it’s obvious. “We can’t keep him.”
“Why not?”
Namjoon blinks. “Because we have nowhere for him to stay,” he replies. “We can’t keep him in the dorm, our lease is ending. And I don’t think one of us would volunteer to care for him alone.”
“Plus a toddler requires whole-day supervision,” Hoseok adds. “And we do need to go back to work eventually. We can’t have two members of BTS missing because one is a toddler, and the other is spending the day taking care of him.”
“But…” Jeongguk trails off when all the others turn to look at him. He’d barely even said anything, and already they look skeptical—kind of like they can’t fathom the idea of keeping Baby Jin-hyung here longer than necessary.
Jeongguk knows they have a point, but there’s a part of him that’s upset at how there was barely any discussion about it, at how the idea wasn’t even entertained. It’s Seokjin, after all. He’d been only nineteen years old when he took all of them under his wing, brought them food and kitchenware from his own home and drove them to school and back. The least they could do, Jeongguk thinks, is take care of him while he’s like this.
But he’s sure that the other members don’t even remember that about Seokjin. And even if he speaks up, it’s not like the others ever really listen to him. So Jeongguk just shakes his head mutely.
“I’ll get him some clothes,” Taehyung pipes up, pulling out his phone. “We can’t just keep him in Jimin’s shirt.”
“Good idea,” Jimin says, also pulling out his phone. “I’ll get him some toys. And maybe a car seat, just in case we need to bring him somewhere.”
“It’s settled then,” Namjoon declares. “We’ll tell both Producer Bang and Jin-hyung’s parents what happened. We’ll also discuss giving Jin-hyung back to his parents to take care of so we can head back to work.” He lets out a breath. “Hopefully we can figure out a way to turn him back.”
“And if we don’t?” Hoseok asks.
Namjoon purses his lips, shakes his head. “I don’t really want to think about that possibility right now, Hob-ah,” he says gravely.
Throughout this entire conversation, Yoongi hasn’t said a single word. He’s just sitting next to Jimin, gaze trained impassively ahead while everyone else discusses the situation. He doesn’t look like he’s listening. Or even thinking. He just stares blankly ahead, a little like he just doesn’t care.
He probably doesn’t, Jeongguk thinks. It’s not like he and Seokjin are friends. Their dislike for each other has hardened into something closer to hate, into something that manifests into snide comments and mutual disregard for each other. It’s been years since they’ve gotten along. Jeongguk doesn’t think they ever will again.
Once, Jeongguk had asked Seokjin about what happened, curious about the abrupt change in their relationship. Seokjin had said, he’s just not who I thought he was, his tone polite, perfunctory, and inoffensive. But the look in his eyes told Jeongguk there was more to the story, that what happened hurt him deeper than he’d ever let anyone know.
“Okay,” Hoseok says, standing from the couch. “I’ll call hyung’s parents. Namjoon, call Producer Bang. The rest of you, just…keep an eye out for when he wakes up. We need to make sure someone’s always around in case something happens.”
Jeongguk sighs, feeling all his frustration from the day seep out of him. “Okay,” he says. “God, I hope he turns back soon.”
“Me too,” Taehyung says. “But, I mean, it could be worse.”
“How so?” Jimin asks.
Taehyung shrugs. “At least he isn’t hurt,” he says. At everyone’s skeptical look, he elaborates: “He ate random food someone gave him—things could’ve gone horribly wrong. Even though he turned into a child, at least he’s okay. Kind of.”
For some reason that gets a reaction from Yoongi, who abruptly gets to his feet. He doesn’t say a single word as he heads to his room, shutting the door behind him with a finality.
The silence he leaves behind is deafening. Nobody moves, unsure of what to do next. Jeongguk exchanges a glance with Taehyung, who looks confused about Yoongi’s sudden reaction.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jimin sighs, heaving himself to his feet. He follows Yoongi to the bedroom door he’d disappeared to, slipping inside without even knocking.
There’s a long pause. “Anyway, help me pick some clothes,” Taehyung says. He holds out his phone to Jeongguk. Jeongguk looks over, and he can’t help but smile amusedly when he sees Taehyung browsing on the kid’s section of the Thom Browne website.
“Okay,” he says, huddling closer to Taehyung to try and peek at the options.
About an hour later, Jeongguk notices that Seokjin’s bedroom door is slightly ajar. When he looks closer, he spots Baby Jin-hyung hidden in the shadows, peeking through the open door. He shies away when Jeongguk approaches, but otherwise doesn’t burst into tears, which Jeongguk takes as a good sign. At least he’s calmer now.
“Hey,” he says, crouching down so he’s at eye-level with Baby Jin-hyung. He tries to make his voice as gentle and sweet as possible. “Did you have a nice nap?”
It takes a moment, but Baby Jin-hyung nods, the action stilted. He mumbles something Jeongguk can’t make out.
“What’s that?”
Baby Jin-hyung’s ears turn red, and he shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Bathroom,” he says, louder.
“Oh!” Jeongguk tries not to let his disgust show on his face. “Um, here, let me help you.”
It takes a bit of maneuvering, mostly because Baby Jin-hyung is tiny and their toilet isn’t really made for toddlers, but Jeongguk eventually finds a way so that Baby Jin-hyung gets his business done. Thankfully he’s potty-trained, and as an added bonus, hygienic—he thoroughly washes his hands after—and really, Jeongguk will take any silver linings he can get.
He doesn’t really know what to do after Baby Jin-hyung’s bathroom run, so he takes him to the living room and plops him on the couch. He manages to find old episodes of Pokémon on Netflix, and it seems to be the right thing to do because immediately Baby Jin-hyung is riveted, posture straight as he keeps his eyes trained on the TV.
He’s actually kind of cute like this. Jeongguk sneakily snaps a photo and sends it to the group chat.
the baby is awake and watching pokemon, he types. this is definitely jin-hyung, lol.
One by one, the other members emerge from their bedrooms, joining them in the living room. Even Yoongi appears, dragged out of his room by Jimin, whose curiosity is written all over his face. The sudden influx of people in the living room makes Baby Jin-hyung squirm, slumping against the couch and curling around the pillow. His discomfort is evident; luckily, Taehyung preempts any crying by sitting next to him and grinning.
“Hi,” he says, smiling sunnily at him. “Don’t worry, all the hyungs here are nice! We just want to be your friend!”
Yoongi coughs, clearly taken aback by the statement. “Hyungs?”
“Well, he is a toddler,” Hoseok muses.
“But he was our hyung,” Jimin replies. “We should still show respect.”
“I don’t think this kid will understand if we call him hyung, Jimin,” Taehyung says. “In his brain, he’s still a child.” He cocks his head in thought, eyes curious as he regards Baby Jin-hyung. “How old are you?”
Baby Jin-hyung looks like he doesn’t want to answer. “Three,” he mumbles.
“I’m twenty-eight,” Taehyung replies, grinning encouragingly at him. “My name is Taetae-hyung! What’s your name?”
“…Jinnie.”
“Do you know your full name?” Namjoon presses.
Baby Jin-hyung looks around the room, and notices everyone watching him. The tips of his ears turn red. “Kim Seokjin,” he mumbles.
“So it really is him,” Jimin says, awed.
“I told you,” replies Jeongguk.
Baby Jin-hyung’s brows draw inward, confused and a little uncertain at the turn of the conversation. It’s clear that he wants to bolt and hide once again, so Jeongguk smiles as sweetly as he can, nudging him gently to catch his attention.
“Hello,” he says when Baby Jin-hyung turns to look at him. “I’m Jeongguk. Hyung,” he adds belatedly. “Jeongguk-hyung.”
It’s a little weird referring to himself as hyung to the (future?) person who used to take care of him, back when he was still a teenager and new to Seoul.
Yoongi seems to think so too, because he mutters, “This is so weird,” loud enough for everyone to hear.
Everyone ignores him.
“I’m Jiminie-hyung,” Jimin says, giving him a small wave.
“Ah, and I’m Namjoon-hyung,” Namjoon adds, smiling.
“And I’m Hobi-hyung!” Hoseok exclaims happily. “We’re all very excited to meet you!”
Hoseok’s energy makes Baby Jin-hyung smile faintly. His eyes flicker to Yoongi, who still looks displeased—his arms crossed and his mouth downturned.
And Jeongguk isn’t sure if he’s imagining things, but something in Baby Jin-hyung’s expression changes as he takes in Yoongi. His eyes get rounder, his face grows more open; he kind of looks like he’s hanging off every single one of Yoongi’s (non-existent) words.
Hoseok elbows Yoongi. “Hyung,” he hisses. “Come on. He’s only three years old.”
Jeongguk can physically see Yoongi resist the urge to roll his eyes. He does, however, turn back to Baby Jin-hyung, and Jeongguk can see his expression immediately soften.
“Hello,” he greets. He sounds stiff, but kind of like he’s trying to be, tamping down a gentleness that comes naturally to him. “I’m, ah, Yoongi.” He winces when Hoseok elbows him again. “Yoongi-hyung. God, this is really so strange.”
And despite Yoongi’s stilted introduction Baby Jin-hyung absolutely lights up, his grip on the couch cushion loosening. “Hi,” he replies. He points to the TV, where Pokémon is still playing. “Do you like Pokémon?”
Yoongi startles, clearly taken aback by the reaction. Jeongguk blinks, also surprised—he’s never known Seokjin to react that warmly to Yoongi.
Hoseok squeals. “Oh my God, he’s so cute,” he says. He raises his hand. “Me! I like Pokémon!”
Baby Jin-hyung pays him no mind. He just keeps staring at Yoongi, who looks unsure about what to do with this sudden attention.
Finally, he speaks. “Yeah,” he says. “I like, uh, Charmander.”
Baby Jin-hyung grins. “Me too!”
“Um, so Jinnie,” Jimin interrupts, calling Baby Jin-hyung’s attention from Yoongi. “Now that we’re all friends, do you want to hang out with the hyungs for a bit?” Baby Jin-hyung nods. “Are you hungry? Do you wanna eat something?” A pause, and then Baby Jin-hyung nods again, looking shy.
“But what are we going to feed him?” Namjoon asks, tone worried.
That’s a good question. “We have some ramen in the kitchen,” Jeongguk replies. “I guess can make him some.”
“Can toddlers eat ramen?” Hoseok wonders.
“I don’t see why not. It’s food. It’s edible.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s good for babies.”
“He’s not technically a baby though,” Taehyung pipes up. “He’s just in the form of one.”
“See,” Namjoon says, “that’s still something we need to confirm—”
Yoongi’s sigh is loud, and it cuts off Namjoon’s train of thought. He pushes himself onto his feet, looking a little like he’s just bitten into a sour lemon. “I’ll see if I can make him something,” he says, and then heads off to the kitchen.
There’s a moment, and surprisingly, Baby Jin-hyung crawls off the couch, lands on his feet, then runs off to follow where Yoongi’s gone.
“Yoongi-hyung?” Jeongguk hears Baby Jin-hyung say from the kitchen. “I wanna help!” And either Yoongi doesn’t reply, or Jeongguk doesn’t hear him reply.
But when Jeongguk walks into the kitchen a few minutes later, just to check if Yoongi needs any help, he finds Baby Jin-hyung standing on a chair by the stove, eyes wide as he watches Yoongi sautée some rice.
Dinner ends up being six packets of ramen and a side of kimchi fried rice, and it’s barely enough for everyone. Still, they make do, portioning out the ramen and leaving most of the kimchi fried rice to Baby Jin-hyung as they sit at their dinner table.
The entire experience is strange. It’s been a while since all seven of them have eaten together like this, and it’s evident in ways no one really thinks about—elbows awkwardly bumping and hands accidentally reaching for the same thing across the table. The funny part is that Baby Jin-hyung doesn’t actually notice; he just happily eats his kimchi fried rice all while trying to make conversation with Yoongi.
They’re not sure what to do with him after dinner—don’t toddlers have to follow some sort of schedule or something?—so they bring him back to the living room to play. Jimin goes into Seokjin’s room to try and find something for Baby Jin-hyung to play with, and comes back with an RJ plushie he’d unearthed from one of Seokjin’s packed boxes.
“This is so weird,” Namjoon mutters as he watches Jimin explain to Baby Jin-hyung that RJ’s an alpaca who ran away from his family in Peru, and that he gets angry whenever he gets dirty. Baby Jin-hyung is listening intently, nodding every so often like he understands. “He’s literally Jin-hyung, but, like, littler.”
Jeongguk gets it. It’s a little unnerving to watch a toddler and recognize Seokjin’s exact same mannerisms—the way he moves his arms, the expressions that cross his face. In the short time they’ve had him, Baby Jin-hyung has already pulled a few faces that made Jeongguk pause, made him want to curl into a ball and cry because that’s his hyung. Every single time, he’d shaken it off, tried not to think about it too much.
“And with a strange fondness for Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok adds, something knowing in his voice.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Baby Jin-hyung calls at that exact moment, pushing himself up onto his feet. He’s holding RJ by the arm, and it’s a little amusing—if not devastating—how little he actually is, arm raised carefully just so RJ’s feet don’t touch the floor. “Yoongi-hyung, RJ needs to go to school!”
Yoongi’s attention is fixed on Baby Jin-hyung. “Does he?” he asks. There’s a strange expression on his face—kind of like he wants to smile but is actively stopping himself from doing so.
Baby Jin-hyung nods. “Yeah, but he has to—he has to take a bath first,” he says seriously. “He needs to be clean so he’s not mean to his classmates!” He places RJ on Yoongi’s lap. “Can you help me?”
“But doesn’t that mean that Jinnie isn’t actually Jin-hyung?” Taehyung asks Hoseok. “I mean, he likes Yoongi-hyung a little too much to be Jin-hyung, don’t you think?”
Jeongguk sighs loudly. “I told you, he is Jin-hyung,” he says, for what seems to be the hundredth time today. “He literally—look, he said his full name was Kim Seokjin earlier. Why would a three-year-old lie about their identity?”
Taehyung considers that. “Still doesn’t explain why he likes Yoongi-hyung so much,” he eventually says. He gestures to where Yoongi is now patiently pretending to give RJ a bath, Baby Jin-hyung standing next to him pretending to hold some shampoo while bossily dictating what he should do next. “Aren’t they, like, mortal enemies?”
“Yeah, but they were friends before.”
“Ages ago.”
“I mean, he probably doesn’t remember disliking Yoongi-hyung,” Jeongguk says. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe he just thinks Yoongi-hyung is cute. Toddlers are weird like that.”
Taehyung mulls that over. “I guess.”
When Jeongguk looks over at Hoseok, he finds the latter with a weird expression on his face—kind of like he’s holding himself back from saying something. He drops the expression and grins when he catches Jeongguk staring, but even still Jeongguk can see a slight edge to the curve of his lip.
“Yeah,” he says eventually. “Toddlers are weird.”
“This is weird,” Namjoon says again, still looking like he’s about to have an existential crisis.
“We know, Namjoon-hyung,” Taehyung says, exasperated.
Eventually, Baby Jin-hyung gets a little whiny, and there’s a unanimous decision to put him to bed. Jimin tries to bring him to the bathroom to get ready for bed, but he fusses, extending both arms out towards Yoongi in what’s probably the universal please pick me up gesture. Yoongi hesitates, but when Baby Jin-hyung starts to whine some more he gives in, stepping forward to take him from Jimin.
Once Yoongi and Baby Jin-hyung have disappeared into the bathroom, Namjoon slumps down on his seat, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This is wild,” he says, mostly to himself. “I—fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
Something about Namjoon’s despair resonates with Jeongguk, dredging up a sadness that’s been slowly building throughout the day. Seokjin, their hyung, is a baby, and none of them know how to turn him back. No one has any answers, or any ideas; this is something way beyond their capabilities.
Jeongguk thinks back to the events of the day, remembers the last conversation he had with Seokjin before he de-aged. It upsets him to think that he may not ever be able to speak with Seokjin—his hyung, the person who took care of him when he first moved to Seoul—ever again.
Jimin rejoins them on the couch, squeezes himself into the space between Namjoon and Taehyung. “When are hyung’s parents coming?” he asks.
“Tomorrow,” Hoseok answers for Namjoon. “Namjoon will be meeting Producer Bang tomorrow, too.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon exhales. Jeongguk watches him shut his eyes. “Let’s just hope he knows what to do.”
Jeongguk swallows. “Yeah,” he says.
No one says anything for a while. Jimin has curled into Taehyung, evidently thinking, while Namjoon and Hoseok seem to be having a telepathic conversation. Jeongguk feels sad, feels empty, feels alone—with no one to talk to, no one to comfort him.
“I’m gonna see if Yoongi-hyung needs any help,” Jeongguk says, and heads off before he can burst into tears.