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It was 3am when Jeongguk began to hear Yoongi snore.
It was 3:01am when he realized what was happening.
And it was 3:02am when he checked his wrist and saw nothing there.
Not again he thinks.
This has happened to him before. And while he got over it, while he realized after the fact that his ex wasn’t his soulmate…it still hurt. It hurt in ways you could never imagine; believing whole heartedly that someone was your one true love only to discover you were wrong and had wasted years on them. The weight of the soulmate mark not appearing is what caused the relationship to collapse and Jeongguk was sure he’d never recover.
Because see, there is one person destined to be your soulmate. The issue is, you don’t know who it is until you’re already in love. Once you’re in love and it’s reciprocated, the mark will appear on your wrist as clear as day. Jeongguk, covered in tattoos, even made sure to leave the inside of his left wrist empty for when it happened to him.
And well…it’s happened again. He’s fallen for another person. Only this time it’s the worst person, Yoongi.
Not because Yoongi is a bad person, but because he is the most important person in Jeongguk’s life. He’s become the one constant Jeongguk could depend on since moving to Seoul when he was a mere 19 years old. Yoongi was his anchor, the one who had guided him through the daunting landscape of the Seoul music scene. He couldn’t bear to lose Yoongi in any capacity; the thought of a life without Yoongi’s quiet encouragement or his scratchy, sleepy morning voice was a void too vast to contemplate. Seeing that the soulmate mark hasn’t appeared on his skin—that smooth, blank patch of his left wrist he had specifically left untattooed for this purpose—means his love isn’t reciprocated.
Jeongguk had spent years convinced that the soulmate system was a beautiful promise, a guarantee that no matter how much he stumbled, he would eventually find his way home to someone. But now, staring at his unmarked skin while his heart thrummed with a devotion that felt absolute, the system felt more like a cage. It was a silent judge, declaring that his deepest feelings were insufficient because they weren't mirrored back. He was terrified that by acknowledging this love, he was initiating the countdown to losing his best friend, just as he had lost his ex when the silence of their wrists became too loud to ignore.
So he watches as Yoongi sleeps sitting up in his desk chair in front of his console in his studio. He looks so relaxed. He looks so soft. He looks like everything Jeongguk has ever been looking for. He looks like his soulmate. He looks like home.
While this is the time when his body should be feeling warm and safe and wonderful, all that fills him is panic. Maybe that was the cruel thing about falling in love. It happened so slowly that you never noticed until it was too late.
He needed to get out of here, but how could he leave while Yoongi was sleeping? He bites his bottom lip trying to figure out what to do when Yoongi stirs.
“Did I fall asleep?” Yoongi slowly turns in his chair to face Jeongguk who is sitting on the couch behind him.
“Yea,” Jeongguk smiles, taking in Yoongi’s puffy face and puffy eyes, how cute he looks. Jeongguk was so fucked.
“What time is it?” Yoongi asks as he stretches, a sliver of his stomach peeking out.
“It’s just after 3,” Jeongguk tells him.
“Oh shit. Let’s get out of here,” Yoongi stretches a little more with a yawn before he stands and starts gathering his things to leave.
Jeongguk just nods, scared that he’ll start crying if he does anything else. He gathers his own things and they head out, walking to the train station together.
“Thanks for keeping me company tonight,” Yoongi says as they get to the station. “You’re the best Guk-ah,” he smiles at Jeongguk. A smile that always brings warmth as if Yoongi is the sun. “Do you wanna go grab some ramen before we head home?”
Getting ramen before going in to catch their trains had kind of become their own little tradition, no matter the time. But tonight, Jeongguk needed to get away. He needed time to panic and figure out what all of this meant. Yoongi didn’t need to see him like this, because he’d ask what was wrong and Jeongguk knew he wouldn’t be able to answer with a lie. He wasn’t ready to face what this meant head on, he needed time.
“I’m pretty tired…I think I’m just going to head home,” Jeongguk lies and immediately sees Yoongi’s face fall. He secretly checks his wrist, only to find it still blank.
“Get some rest, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tells him with a sad smile before he waves and walks towards his platform.
Jeongguk traces where the soulmate mark would appear the entire ride home, so distracted that he barely exits the train at his stop before the doors close on him.
Once home, he showers. He tries to shower all the disappointment off his skin with the scalding water, the steam filling the small bathroom until the mirror is completely clouded over. He lets the heat redden his shoulders, hoping the physical sting will distract him from the hollow ache in his chest. It works, kind of. As the water cascades down, he begins to wonder if he’s really in love with Yoongi or if he just really appreciates his friendship. That could totally be it, that he just appreciates the friendship and the comfort of having someone who has been his one constant since he was nineteen. He tries to rationalize the panic away, convincing himself that his reaction at the studio was just exhaustion playing tricks on his mind.
He goes to bed feeling lighter, having fully convinced himself that it’s not really love and that the absence of the soulmate mark is simply because there is nothing to mark. He tells himself that he can go back to how things were, that he can look at Yoongi and see only a hyung, a mentor, and a best friend. He falls asleep to the rhythm of his own heartbeat, steady and deceptive.
The problem with that…he goes to see Yoongi again the next day and his heart immediately squeezes, his chest immediately feels tight as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. The moment he steps into Yoongi's space, all the walls he built in the shower crumble, the steam-cleaned logic of the night before evaporating under the low hum of the studio equipment and the familiar scent of Yoongi’s coffee. He immediately checks his wrist, the skin there still frustratingly, devastatingly blan, a silent, pale testament to the fact that his feelings, however consuming they might feel to him, remain one-sided and unacknowledged by the universe. Every time he sees Yoongi’s gentle smile or hears the scratchy timbre of his voice, the ache in his chest only deepens, mocking the distance he’s tried to place between them. It’s a physical weight he carries into every interaction, a constant reminder that he is standing on the edge of a precipice, staring down at a love that has nowhere to go.
Fuck.
He was so, so, so in love with this man.
He watches the movie stiffly, trying to keep as far away from Yoongi on the couch as possible, though that ends up being useless as Yoongi lays down and puts his head in Jeongguk’s lap. Jeongguk goes even stiffer, which Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice as he drifts off to sleep.
Jeongguk allows himself to run his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, imagining what it’d be like for his feelings to be reciprocated. The strands are soft beneath his touch, a familiar silkiness he has memorized over years of friendship. He traces the curve of Yoongi’s scalp with a bittersweet tenderness, his heart aching with the weight of a devotion that remains unacknowledged by the blank skin of his wrist. In the quiet of the room, he allows himself to get lost in the fantasy of a different reality. They’d have dates just like this, chill nights at home where all they need is each other’s company. There would be no panic, no desperate checking for a mark that refuses to appear, only the warmth of a shared life and the quiet certainty that he was finally, truly home.
This isn’t how this was supposed to go, Jeongguk thinks as he checks his wrist again. It’s still blank while his heart bleeds from the love he feels for the man resting on his thighs. He had to get out of here.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk whispers, lightly tapping Yoongi on the upper arm. “Hyung wake up.”
“Hmm? Is it over?” Yoongi rouses, his voice dripping with sleep.
“I need to go home,” Jeongguk tries to keep his voice calm, running his fingers back through Yoongi’s hair again to try to mask his panic.
“You can stay here,” Yoongi tells him, turning his head to look up at Jeongguk.
“I have some stuff I need to do,” Jeongguk lies. And Yoongi always knows when Jeongguk lies. Jeongguk just hopes this time it’s not obvious.
“Okay, okay,” Yoongi yawns and sits up, his hair in disarray from Jeongguk’s fingers. “You sure you don’t want to just stay here?”
Jeongguk just nods, fearing if he spoke he’d burst into tears. Yoongi is so kind. He treats Jeongguk so well. He just wishes he felt more than friendship for Jeongguk. He rubs at his wrist where the soulmate mark should be appearing as he follows Yoongi to the front door.
“Let me know you got home safe, okay Guk-ah?” Yoongi was always so thoughtful, always so concerned. Jeongguk was beginning to hate it.
Jeongguk nods again after putting his shoes back on and exiting the apartment. As always, Yoongi doesn’t shut the door until Jeongguk is in the elevator to go downstairs. Yoongi, always such a thoughtful hyung
His shoulders sag as the doors shut and he’s finally alone. He grips his wrist, daring to look at it again only to see his own golden unmarked skin.
The way Yoongi treated him, it was almost like they were already in a relationship and that made Jeongguk’s heart hurt more, made his blank skin burn.
It brings back the memories of the first time this happened, but then he had been in a relationship. It had started like most relationships do, a couple dates here and there. And while Jeongguk liked him, he didn’t expect to fall in love. But when he did, he fell fully and completely. He checked his wrist religiously during that time, only to see nothing much like now.
“Maybe we just aren’t soulmates,” his boyfriend had said and Jeongguk never understood how he could be okay with it, how he was so nonchalant about it. Jeongguk wanted nothing more than to find his soulmate and the idea that his own boyfriend didn’t care, that weighed on him.
That was the beginning of the end, the I Love You’s with no mark appearing.
It wasn’t just losing his relationship that stung, it was the fact that love didn’t automatically make someone a perfect match for you. That love wasn’t always enough.
He thinks about this on his way home, the first time he’s let himself think about his past relationship that broke him so deeply. But, had he not lost him, he wouldn’t have found Yoongi.
Him and Yoongi had met through a mutual friend that demanded Jeongguk leave his house and come with him to the bar. Jeongguk would never admit to Seokjin that it was the best thing he could’ve done for him despite the fact that he fought it tooth and nail. Seokjin had to practically drag Jeongguk out of his house.
Seokjin always knew how to cheer Jeongguk up, and really Jeongguk wondered where he’d kept Yoongi hidden all that time. Yoongi was like a breath of fresh air, opening his lungs and releasing the grip around his heart. He should’ve seen this coming, from how free Yoongi made him feel.
And now here he is, at home with a blank wrist back where he started. He won’t let it go any further, though. He can beat this. First, he opens his phone and turns off any notifications that would come from Yoongi so he doesn’t jump to see if it’s him texting him or calling. Then, he texts Yoongi and lets him know he’s not feeling great and probably won’t see him for a few days.
He hates that Yoongi’s first response is to call, which he sends to voicemail. Yoongi then texts, asking if he needs hyung to bring him some soup. Curse Yoongi and his big heart.
I’ll be fine, but thanks hyung Jeongguk responds, tossing his phone to the side as he lays down in his bed. This isn’t fair to Yoongi, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t want to lose Yoongi as a friend, but he also can’t do this again. He needs to pull back so he can try to fall out of love, if that’s even possible when someone is as great as Yoongi.
Weeks go by, and he’s barely seen or spoken to Yoongi. He’s received various texts from him, though.
You busy this week?
I miss you.
Is everything okay?
The I miss you one hurt the most. Jeongguk can’t remember the last time someone said those words to him and meant it. He knows Yoongi means it.
Jeongguk responds, mostly with one word answers. He can’t bring himself to say more than that. Every letter feels like a string on his heart is being snapped with the ache it causes. This was supposed to get easier, not seeing Yoongi. But instead, it’s making it harder, it’s making him love him more though Jeongguk didn’t find that possible.
I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder.
Eventually, Seokjin shows up at Jeongguk’s house, with Yoongi in tow. He knocks, but Jeongguk doesn’t answer. There’s one more knock when he hears a key in his door. Curse him for giving Seokjin a key to his apartment.
“Yah! Guk-ah! What the hell is wrong with you?” Seokjin comes into the living room heated.
“Hyung, we talked about this. We were going to be gentle, obviously something is wrong,” Yoongi says, annoyed.
Of course Yoongi would be on Jeongguk’s side. Of course Yoongi would think that it was just something wrong, which…there is, but there’s no way they’re getting it out of Jeongguk.
“I’m fine,” Jeongguk lies and he sees Yoongi’s face fall. Yoongi who could always tell when he was lying. Yoongi who is as pure as they come when it comes to friendship. “I’m sorry to worry you.”
“Guk-ah,” Yoongi comes forward, grabbing his wrist, the wrist where the soulmate mark should be. He feels his skin go hot at the touch, he glances down to see Yoongi’s thumb rubbing the sensitive, still blank skin. He feels his strings on his heart snap even more. “We worry because we care.”
Jeongguk’s heart breaks hearing that, he just wished Yoongi cared in a different way.
“I’m fine,” Jeongguk says as tears fill his eyes, a sob escapes him as his head falls.
“Guk,” Yoongi comes forward and hugs him and Jeongguk just lets him. He lets Yoongi wrap his arms around him and try to comfort him, not knowing he’s the reason for Jeongguk’s tears.
Why. Why can’t Yoongi just love him back? Why did he have to fall so hard for this man trying to bring him comfort?
“We’re here for you,” he hears Seokjin say, feels his hand on his back, rubbing at his shoulder as Yoongi’s hands rub at his lower back.
“It’s just been a rough couple weeks, that’s all,” Jeongguk confesses. He refuses to tell them exactly why, that’s not for them to know. It’s something he needs to work through, if he even can.
“Even so, that’s no reason to push us away,” Yoongi pulls back and lowers himself to look Jeongguk in the eye. “We’re your friends, we’re here for you to lean on.”
“I just…I need some time alone,” Jeongguk admits, hoping they’ll accept that as an explanation. Yoongi does, but Seokjin looks suspicious.
“We’re here when you need us, okay?” Yoongi puts his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders and squeezes, as if he’s trying to brand the words into Jeongguk’s skin. “Come on, hyung, let’s go.”
Yoongi motions towards Seokjin to follow him, but Seokjin waves him off.
“I’ll be right down, I just…I need to talk to him alone for a second.”
Yoongi looks between them before nodding and walking out the front door.
“Alright, spill,” Seokjin grabs Jeongguk’s arm and drags him to the couch. “What’s going on with Yoongi?”
“Nothing…” Jeongguk tries to lie but he can feel his eyes betraying him as they fill with tears.
“Oh, Guk. What happened?” Seokjin rubs Jeongguk’s arm which makes the tears fall.
“I love him,” Jeongguk lets out a sob as he leans into Seokjin, feeling his arms wrapping around him. “And the soulmate mark isn’t showing up. I can’t do this again.”
“Does he know?” Seokjin asks as he rubs Jeongguk’s back. Jeongguk just shakes his head. “You need to tell him.”
“I can’t, I don’t want to lose him, hyung. I can’t lose him,” Jeongguk pulls back and looks at Seokjin who has so much empathy in his eyes. “Promise you won’t say anything.”
“I won’t, Guk-ah. But you need to talk to Yoongi, you pulling away like this isn’t fair to him.”
And Seokjin was right, of course Seokjin was right. It wasn’t fair to cut Yoongi out the way he had. But how does he talk to Yoongi without his heart breaking into a million pieces? How does he talk to Yoongi and make Yoongi understand and not feel guilty or pity him?
Maybe this won’t be like the last time, since he and Yoongi are just friends. Maybe that’s how you get through it. Maybe Jeongguk can still get over it while keeping Yoongi in his life.
Can I come to the studio tonight, hyung?
Jeongguk hits send on the message before he can stop himself, his thumb hovering over the screen as if he could physically snatch the words back from the digital ether. He needed to get this over with sooner or later. The silence in his apartment felt heavy, amplifying the rhythmic thrum of his pulse in his ears. Every second that passed without a notification felt like an eternity. He had spent weeks pulling away, ignoring calls and sending short, one-word answers to Yoongi’s heartfelt check-ins, convinced that distance was the only way to survive a love that wasn't reciprocated.
Maybe he’d feel better once it was off his chest, that the elephant currently suffocating him will up and leave and Jeongguk will finally be able to breathe. He thinks back to the scalding showers he took to wash away the disappointment of his blank wrist. The reality of the situation was a physical weight, a pressure behind his ribs that only Yoongi’s presence seemed to both soothe and sharpen. He was terrified of the pity he might see in Yoongi’s eyes—the kind of look Seokjin had given him when he finally confessed his feelings.
But Seokjin was right; it wasn't fair to cut Yoongi out without an explanation. Yoongi, who was his one constant since moving to Seoul. Yoongi, who looked like everything Jeongguk had ever been looking for. If they were truly destined to only be friends, then Jeongguk had to find a way to navigate that reality without losing the most important person in his life. He watched the "read" receipt appear, his breath hitching as he waited for the response that would decide the fate of the only home he had ever truly known.
Sure
So Yoongi had resolved to one word responses. Jeongguk couldn’t blame him, not after how Jeongguk has treated him. The brevity of the message felt like a physical barrier, a stark contrast to the long, rambling texts Yoongi used to send about a new track or a particularly good cup of coffee. The "Sure" sat there on the screen, cold and devoid of the warmth Jeongguk had grown accustomed to. It was a mirror held up to his own behavior over the past few weeks, reflecting the distance he had painstakingly created.
Jeongguk stared at the single word until his eyes blurred, the weight of his actions settling heavily in his gut. He had spent years building a foundation of trust and vulnerability with Yoongi, only to start dismantling it the moment his own heart became too loud to ignore. He had prioritized his own fear of unrequited love over the decade-long history they shared. Now, as he prepared to face the man who was both his greatest comfort and his greatest source of panic, he realized that the silence he had forced between them might be harder to break than he ever imagined.
Jeongguk eventually showers, spending the time in the scalding hot water practicing what he’s going to say, how he’s going to talk to Yoongi. The words needed to be perfect, he needed the perfect words to portray how deep his feelings were for Yoongi–that it was more than just a small crush. Yoongi needed to understand the weight of Jeongguk’s words. He goes through a myriad of scenes that could play out tonight, so many that the water is turning cold.
Jeongguk eventually showers, spending the time in the scalding hot water practicing what he’s going to say, how he’s going to talk to Yoongi. The words needed to be perfect, he needed the perfect words to portray how deep his feelings were for Yoongi—that it was more than just a small crush. He goes through a myriad of scenes that could play out tonight, so many that the water is turning cold.
Once he exits the shower, he looks at the mirror still fogged from the hot water. He draws a smiley face on it, a way to try to cheer himself up and make him feel confident about the talk he’s going to have tonight. He stares at the simple, dripping lines of the face, trying to find a reflection of the courage he’s supposed to have. He had spent years building a foundation of trust and vulnerability with Yoongi, and the thought of dismantling it because his heart became too loud was a weight settling heavily in his gut. He traces where the soulmate mark would appear again, accepting that this portion of skin might remain blank forever. He knows he needs to get this over with; the silence he’s forced between them might be harder to break than he ever imagined.
Jeongguk’s hands were shaking as he pushed open the heavy studio door, the familiar scent of stale coffee and something uniquely Yoongi washing over him. It was a sensory overload that usually anchored him, but tonight, it just made his pulse hammer harder against his ribs. Yoongi was slumped over his console, the blue light of the monitors casting sharp, artificial shadows across his face, accentuating the tired lines around his eyes. He didn’t turn around when the door clicked shut, just offered a casual wave of his hand.
"Hey," Yoongi muttered, his voice raspy from hours of muttering melodies to himself. "Thought you might've ghosted me for good."
The casual comment was like a physical blow. Jeongguk stepped further into the room, the distance between them feeling vast, despite only being a few feet. "I... I'm sorry, hyung. I didn't mean to." He reached the back of Yoongi’s chair and stopped, his fingers curling into his palms to hide their tremble.
Yoongi spun his chair around finally, and the look of concern that softened his sharp features almost broke Jeongguk on the spot. "None of that, Guk-ah. Just glad you're here." He looked him up and down, his gaze lingering on Jeongguk’s tense posture. "You look like you're heading to a funeral, not a visit with a friend."
"Maybe I am," Jeongguk whispered, the words slipping out before he could filter them. He saw Yoongi blink, confused, and he knew he had to do this now, before the panic choked him out completely. He took a breath, the air in the small room feeling suddenly thin. "I’ve been away because I… I’ve been trying to stop feeling a certain way. And I thought if I stayed away long enough, it would just go away."
Yoongi’s brow furrowed, his entire demeanor shifting into something guarded yet intensely focused. "What are you talking about?"
Jeongguk looked down at his left wrist, at the smooth, unmarked skin he had once thought was a promise of a future, but had learned was just a blank canvas. He held it out, not to show the absence of a mark, but to anchor himself. "I didn't pull away because I was mad, hyung. I pulled away because I’m in love with you."
The silence that followed was so heavy it felt deafening. The hum of the equipment seemed to vanish, leaving only the sound of Jeongguk’s own ragged breathing. Yoongi didn't move, didn't speak, his eyes wide and unreadable as he stared at the wrist Jeongguk was exposing. It was the moment of truth, the terrifying edge of the precipice he had been standing on for weeks, and for the first time, Jeongguk wasn't trying to look away. He was finally, devastatingly, honest.
“Please…say something,” Jeongguk says, barely above a whisper. Every second of Yoongi's stillness felt like a definitive rejection, a confirmation of the blankness on his skin. He felt exposed, his heart laid bare, waiting for a blow he knew was coming.
“Guk-ah,” Yoongi’s eyes looked sad, they looked broken, as if Jeongguk had said the words Yoongi never wanted to hear from him. The weight of his pity was almost worse than the silence, a heavy shroud that threatened to smother the last of Jeongguk's resolve.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I–I can learn to live with it. I just…you needed to know. You deserved to know.” Jeongguk stands taller, faking confidence, faking that the silence wasn’t actually killing him inside. Faking that his wrist wasn’t on fire from where he feels like the soulmate mark should be appearing now that Yoongi knew. Yoongi remains silent, his eyes searching Jeongguk for some kind of answer to a question he hasn’t asked out loud. “I’ll go.”
Jeongguk turns to leave, but Yoongi reaches out and grabs his wrist, the one where the soulmate mark should be. The skin still burns from the weight of the missing mark. But when Jeongguk looks down where their skin meets, he can see a slight redness that wasn’t there before. Redness that is mirrored on Yoongi’s skin. Jeongguk can’t seem to will himself to move, focused solely on the mark appearing in front of his eyes on Yoongi’s skin.
“Hyung?” Jeongguk finds that’s the only word he can say. This can’t be real, this has to be a dream. He closes his eyes but that only seems to make the heat of his wrist hotter. When he opens them, Yoongi is staring at him with a small smile on his lips. “How?”
Jeongguk waits for Yoongi to answer, but he seems to be as lost for words as Jeongguk. The silence that follows isn't heavy like before; instead, it feels electric, charged with the sudden, impossible realization blooming between them. Yoongi doesn't let go of his wrist; if anything, his grip tightens slightly, his thumb grazing the exact spot where the skin is flushing a deep, vibrant crimson. Jeongguk watches, transfixed, as the redness begins to settle into a distinct shape, mirroring the same intricate pattern forming on Yoongi's own skin. It’s a sight he had spent years dreaming of and weeks mourning the loss of, and seeing it now feels like the world has finally tilted back onto its axis. Yoongi looks from their joined wrists up to Jeongguk, his dark eyes shimmering with an emotion so raw and unmistakable that Jeongguk’s breath hitches. The small smile on Yoongi’s lips grows, reaching his eyes and softening the tired lines around them, as he finally finds his voice, though it's barely a rough whisper that vibrates right through Jeongguk's skin. "I think," Yoongi says, his voice thick with a relief that mirrors Jeongguk's own, "that I was just waiting for you to come home."
Jeongguk lets out a breath he felt he’d been holding since he was nineteen, the tension that had defined so much of his life finally dissolving into the warmth of Yoongi’s touch. He didn’t need words anymore, not when their skin told the story. Not when he finally stood with the only truth that ever mattered. Yoongi pulls him closer, pulling Jeongguk’s arms around his neck before wrapping his own around Jeongguk’s waist. Jeongguk rubs at the fresh mark on his skin. The space on his wrist finally felt full, and for the first time in his life, Jeongguk knew exactly where he was meant to be. He was home.