sope Lives

bts fic writer - free joon’s tiddies - {the BU is gay sorry not sorry}

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

I am open for writing commissions!

As I have graduated this year from university with a Creative Writing degree, I now have time to write for commissions!

I am a BTS fanfiction writer whose body of work can be found upon AO3: (dabbleinthedrabble). I have currently written for Sope (Hoseok/Yoongi), Taekook (Jungkook/Taehyung), Namjin (Namjoon/Seokjin) and Minjoon (Jimin/Namjoon), which you can find on the link above or on my tumblr.

However, I am capable of writing for any shipping pair/throuple/poly relationship. This includes sexually explicit content.

I will not write for: p*edophilia, b*astiality, age-play or hybrids.

My prices: One-shot: 1k words to 5k words = £10 - £40. Multi-chaptered: 5.5k words to 10k words = £45 – £70+. PayPal GBP only (for now).

For reference, I usually aim to write 2k words per chapter. For works over five chapters and therefore over 10k words, the price will increase to £10 per 1k words.

No refunds. A teaser of the piece will be offered (200 – 300 words of the requested work) and if you are displeased, I can rework the request, or you can withdraw your request before completion - only in this circumstance will you be refunded.

I encourage active communication before the writing process in order to ensure I have the clearest idea of your intentions for the piece, Your happiness is integral to my work ethic. 

If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me through asks or DMs. I would be more than happy to clarify anything for you :-)

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Chapter Eight - i swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth.

They hung around the park the next day, just the two of them. Hoseok steered clear of the shopping centre in case he ran into Chinhae, who he had messaged saying he couldn’t meet today since something had come up. He wanted to spend the day with Yoongi, although he was definitely going to invite Chinhae over to meet Yoongi sometime. He was sure that the two would have loads in common considering the fact he and Chinhae had gotten along well.

But that would be another time. Hoseok simply wanted to spend every moment in the bliss that he received from Yoongi every time Yoongi slipped his hand in his, or teased him affectionately by threatening to push him into the duck pond, or kissed him on the cheek despite anyone watching. Yoongi, who used to despise PDA, now seemed to be the most laidback person in the world. Hoseok didn’t think he could be happier than he was now, in the little paradise he and Yoongi had built in his hometown.

But eventually, they had to return to reality. Hoseok needed to head back to work and Yoongi fancied he did too in order to pay the bills and rent for the upcoming month. They wanted to see their friends too; Jimin was planning on coming down in a few weeks. Hoseok had remained evasive on the topic of Seokjin, remembering all too vividly the conversation that had taken place a few days ago. Seokjin hadn’t messaged him since, although Jungkook had asked if there had been any updates. He hadn’t replied.

Although it was nice to see Yoongi bonding with his parents, washing up with his mother whilst she dried the dishes, and chatting with his father about some programme on TV and stories from his dad’s youth deep into the night, it was going to be even better to return back to the apartment and fall back into the routine of domesticity. He was also looking forward to kissing Yoongi senseless, hearing him whine as loudly as he could without the irate childish fear of his parents overhearing.

They decided to leave on Monday after the weekend, and it was on Saturday that Hoseok decided to introduce Chinhae to Yoongi. If it went well, which Hoseok desperately wanted, then they could hang out the rest of the weekend.

“So,” Hoseok said when Yoongi slid onto the chair opposite him in the kitchen. “You know my friend I’ve been telling you about? I was thinking, if you wanted, we could meet up with him today?”

Yoongi, who had just woken up, blinked at him blearily. He was wearing one of Hoseok’s oversized shirts, and if Hoseok wasn’t so set on having his new friend and boyfriend meet, he would be incredibly distracted by Yoongi’s collarbones. “Is this the music guy?”

“Chinhae, yeah. He works at a music store. I promise he’s really cool, I think you two would get along. I was thinking we could meet him for lunch?”

Yoongi shrugged, loading his chopsticks with rice. “Sure. We’ve got nothing else planned.”

It wasn’t the ecstatic response Hoseok had hoped for, but Hoseok easily forgave it. Yoongi was always a little grumpy in the morning, always slow to wake up, and he had never really told Yoongi much about Chinhae in an effort to conceal his excitement of making a friend in a town he felt somewhat disconnected to, despite it being his birthplace.

“I’ll tell him we’ll meet him for noodles. Unless you want something else?” Hoseok said, pulling out his phone.

Yoongi shrugged, chewing absentmindedly. “I don’t mind. Anywhere will be nice.”

Hoseok hoped so; he knew he would be happy at least, with good company. He only hoped that said company would get along. He didn’t see why not, he was sure once he began talking about music, Yoongi’s interest would perk up.

He asked Chinhae if he was free to meet at one for lunch in their usual noodle bar, to which Chinhae quickly replied he would be all for that.

hae-hae <3: how u been man? This week’s gone so slow

User: sorry :’( my bf came down to meet me, was hoping I could introduce you two today

hae-hae <3: oh that sounds good, glad to hear he came to see you, see you two later!

Hoseok smiled at Chinhae’s sincerity. He could be extremely tactful at times, which he was grateful for when it came to broaching sensitive topics.

“What’re you smiling at?” Yoongi asked, his voice low and laden with sleep.

Hoseok pocketed his phone. “Nothing. Hae will meet us at one.”

Yoongi rose his eyebrows, dropping his eyes to his bowl of rice. “Smiling at his texts? Do I have competition?”

Hoseok laughed, leaning back in his chair and nudging Yoongi’s shin underneath the table. “You really must be tired. That’s ridiculous; you’re the only one for me.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything, and Hoseok found he couldn’t either. It had been harder expressing his emotions when Yoongi finally returned to him, wanting to properly make up. He had been desperate, and it had been a strain to convey how much Yoongi meant to him, but now in his parents’ kitchen, sunlight pouring through the window, those words seemed to hold a different weight to them.

He and Yoongi had talked about marriage before, but only fleetingly and always in reference to the future. In fact, the subject was only brought up whenever they talked about kids, which Hoseok wanted, but Yoongi was dubious about. He never stated his reason why clearly, but Hoseok could now guess that it had everything to do with his childhood and how his own parents treated him. Due to this, Hoseok supposed they never truly talked about their plans for the future, only that the other would be included in them.

But did that mean marriage? Moving into a stable home, buying off the mortgage, having careers and raising a family?

Would Yoongi even want to get married? He never had received a proper answer, and he knew that getting into it when they had only recently made up was not a very smart idea.

They had time, Hoseok decided, filing it away in his brain. He could ask about it another day. He didn’t need to think about his own answer for even a second, it had been obvious to him ever since moving in with Yoongi, ever since falling in love with him.

Hoseok stayed silent, sipping his coffee in companionship with Yoongi’s munching. The peace was nice. Something to be relished.

They arrived at the noodle bar early. Except that it was exactly one, so maybe it was Chinhae who was late. It didn’t really matter; Yoongi was understanding, more than happy to look at the menu whilst they waited.

Chinhae rocked up around ten minutes later after messaging Hoseok that he was on his way and that they should order instead of waiting. Yoongi had offered to order for the both of them, so when Chinhae spotted Hoseok sitting alone in a corner booth he raised an eyebrow.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” he grinned, slotting himself on the bench opposite.

“He’s ordering. We would have waited if someone hadn’t taken so long,” Hoseok teased.

“I’m sorry about that, one of my neighbour’s held me up. Something about kids and graffiti? I wasn’t really listening.”

“Too busy thinking about food?”

“You know it. Oh, I should ask, what’s your boyfriend’s name? I can’t keep calling him: Hoseok’s boyfriend,” Chinhae said sheepishly.

Hoseok smiled. “It’s Kim Yoongi. I suppose I should have told you. He’s kinda shy at first, but he’s really sweet-”

“What’s sweet?” Yoongi asked, emerging out of nowhere and successfully startling Hoseok.

“Don’t do that!” Hoseok exclaimed, grinning up at Yoongi – who wasn’t looking at him, rather at the person opposite him.

“Oh, Yoon, this is the friend I was telling you about.” Hoseok looked at Chinhae, who was staring back at Yoongi rather blankly. It all suddenly felt rather awkward, but Hoseok was convinced he was imagining it.

“Lee Chinhae,” Chinhae introduced after a pause. “Hoseok was just telling me about you, …?”

“Kim Yoongi,” Yoongi stated. There was another pause, it stretched on, so much so that Hoseok could feel himself running out of breath. And then it was over.

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Chapter Seven - it’s time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth?

The next week was only made eventful due to frequent visits he paid to Chinhae, and eventually Chinhae visiting his family house and hanging out in Hoseok’s childhood room. It was strange to hang out with someone in his room other than Yoongi, but Hoseok supposed that wouldn’t be happening for a while.

He was wrong, it turned out. He had just returned home from picking up a few groceries with his mother and unpacking them in the fridge while she brewed the kettle on the stove (she had been insistent on sticking to ‘the old way’ instead of investing in an electronic kettle) when the doorbell rang.

Yoongi was on the doorstep. His lips were chapped and parted in a perplex manner, his hair was dishevelled, maybe even a little greasy, but Hoseok didn’t get a chance to truly examine him. Yoongi had thrown himself into Hoseok’s arms, wrapping his own around Hoseok’s shoulders, burying his face in Hoseok’s old sweatshirt.

“Yoon?” Hoseok started, physically taken aback. The image of Yoongi before him, in his hometown they hadn’t visited together in a year, was unbelievable. And yet, here he was, balling the material of his shirt in his fists.

It was cold outside, and the wind blew in Hoseok’s face. He vaguely heard his mother telling him to close the door, asking him who it was.

“Come in, Yoon. You must be freezing,” Hoseok directed, having to shuffle backwards in order to shut the door; Yoongi seemed to be glued to his front.

It was the closest they been in over a month, Hoseok realised, hugging Yoongi back, tugging the hood back from Yoongi’s head to entangle his fingers in Yoongi’s hair.

“Hobi? Who was it-? Oh,” his mother spotted Yoongi, clinging to Hoseok. Hoseok didn’t dare turn around to face her; it was obvious that Yoongi needed for them to be alone. Luckily, she seemed to read the mood. “Take him upstairs, dear. It’s warmer in your room.”

Hoseok did so, feeling significantly colder when Yoongi parted from his side to trudge up the stairs. Hoseok followed behind him as they reached his room, uncertain. Was it just one moment of weakness Yoongi had allowed himself to? Was it going to be tense and awkward as they spoke for the first time in two weeks?

Yoongi gazed around Hoseok’s room, just as Chinhae had done, except his face was blank. Hoseok closed the door behind him, his back to the wall. “Do you wanna sit?”

Yoongi complied as if it were an order, sinking onto the bed, his legs pressed together with his hands wedged under his legs. He must have been cold, Hoseok read Yoongi’s familiar body language, and decided to sit next to him.

“Why are you here, Yoon?” Hoseok asked, watching Yoongi bite his lip. “Not that I’m happy to see you, I just… You wanted space.”

Yoongi shrugged. “I did. And you gave me that.” Hoseok fell silent – what was he supposed to say to that?

Yoongi’s sigh of frustration came as a surprise. He rearranged himself, crossing his legs and turning to face Hoseok. “I thought of so many things to tell you on the way over here, and now I’m here, there’s not a single thing in my head. So I’m pissed at myself, it’s gonna be awkward but just give me a moment to prepare something…” he muttered, voice low and familiar, resonating in Hoseok’s chest.

It reminded him of the evenings spent curled up together on the couch, listening to Yoongi’s relaxing ramblings about something he read, or a song he heard, or something stupid Seokjin said once. It almost overpowered the trepidation that was burning in his gut as he waited to hear Yoongi out, but not quite.

Eventually, Yoongi seemed to process his thoughts and formulate something. He took a shallow breath, taking Hoseok’s hands with his long, calloused fingers. Hoseok’s heart leapt as he met Yoongi’s eyes, bright in the dim of his bedroom.

“When I told you before that you mean everything to me, I meant it. Really. You’ve given me a life I wouldn’t have otherwise, and I want nothing more than to live it with you beside me, but – I’ve been selfish. And I haven’t known what to do with myself, and I know that because of that there’s… distance between us. And I hate that.” He squeezed Hoseok’s hands, shuffling forwards. “I want to be close to you for the rest of my life, but I’ve got my own issues to deal with, and it’s not fair to drag you into them. No matter how much you want to help, it’s not fair on you.”

Hoseok pushed down any protest he had in his throat. It would never do any good to interrupt Yoongi when he was talking like this. Besides, he didn’t think he could speak right now. Yoongi’s words had gripped tightly at his heart, rendering him speechless.

“I know that I’m a difficult person to be with. I find it hard to talk about this type of stuff – and to open up, but you always make that easier for me…” Yoongi trailed off, looking away from Hoseok for the first time and down at their conjoined hands resting on their touching knees. “There are some things about me, to do with my family, that I can’t talk to you about. I know you’ve asked me about them before, but I can’t. I guess you could say it’s a touchy subject,” he let out a huff of laughter, “but it’s not personal. But I understand if that’s not okay to you. I mean, relationships shouldn’t have any secrets, right?”

Yoongi’s voice changed, burning out at the edges as if he was losing conviction in his words, and yet his grip on Hoseok’s hands tightened.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hoseok called, pulling Yoongi’s hands onto his lap. “Stop that. We’re not our relationship, Yoonie, we’re our own people. Everyone has secrets or things they don’t like to talk about. If it really is that personal to you, then that’s that. We don’t have to talk about it, at least not explicitly. I’ll always be here for you. Always. Don’t you dare doubt that.” He held Yoongi’s eye contact, steadfast, urging his will to channel through their connected hands.

Yoongi searched his face, seemingly scanning for any weakness. “Are you certain, Seok?”

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter Six -  two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart

Jinnie ><: hey Seokie Jinnie ><: Yoon said anything more to you?

Hoseok blinked at his phone, slowing his pace down and causing him to bump into a few people dashing by him to get to sales.

You: wdym?

He turned into the bakery – the one his mum would always take him to at the end of the week for a treat if he was well-behaved. It was nice to be home, incredibly nostalgic, and he always welcomed a home-cooked meal.

Jinnie ><: well, about why he was gone

Hoseok sighed. Seokjin had been more bizarre than usual over the last few weeks. He had left his apartment to get away from all of that. As well as things being weird between him and Yoongi.

You: I know he told you because he told me he did You: Seung passed away You: he doesn’t like to talk about it, and I don’t blame him

He was next in line and he picked out something distractedly, something with cream. He hurried out of the store, the snack wrapped in his pocket. He would go to the park his father would always take him and Dawon, eat on the bench, and maybe call Dawon – he hadn’t seen her in a good few months since after the wedding.

Jinnie ><: you don’t really believe that, do you?

Hoseok stared down at his screen blankly. He didn’t believe what he had read, but he didn’t get the proper chance to as the text disappeared quickly to be replaced by Seokjin’s contact icon.

Hoseok hesitated before accepting the call.

“What are you talking about?” Hoseok asked, frustration beginning to build.

“Hey, Seok, listen, think about it for a minute. Yoon stopped visiting his brother years ago, right? When was the last time?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok exhaled, checking the time on the clock of the mall, hoisted up in the middle of the escalators. “Maybe two years back. When we first started dating, he visited Seung a few times.”

“So, the last time he visited Seung was two years ago then, and then out of nowhere he pays him a visit?” Seokjin wasn’t playing around; the scepticism in his voice was honest.

“He passed away, Jin, what more do you want?” Hoseok snapped, sitting on the nearest bench and hissing into his phone.

“But he had a rare disease. Surely if it was so serious, Yoon would have visited him more often. Why did he stop visiting his brother for two years when he did it often before?”

Hoseok stared ahead, briefly seeing the people walk by each other, thick coats and scarves. It was nearing the winter holiday season. He and Yoongi should be spending it together really, but it was not to be. He had been feeling numb ever since he had arrived back in his hometown a week ago, even talking with his mum hadn’t helped.

“What are you talking about?” Hoseok forced out through the lump in his throat. “I don’t understand why you’re always doing this – Yoon… he’s going through a lot, and I don’t think he’d appreciate one of his best friends to be second-guessing every little thing.”

Seokjin was silent on the other end of the line. All Hoseok could hear was the loud hum of people talking, couples laughing and children exclaiming excitedly.

“Something’s not right, Seok.” Seokjin sounded weary. “We know it. You know it, deep down.”

“No. I do know something’s not right,” Hoseok spat, “it’s not right when you doubt your friends’ reason for mourning. What would he think of you? Why are you calling me? Are you trying to split us up for good or something?”

“Seok-”

“You know what? I don’t care. Don’t you dare approach him about this. Leave him alone. Obviously, you have no respect for him or his loss, so don’t contact us until you’re ready to have some common courtesy.”

Hoseok hung up with vigour, leaning back on the bench to breathe in deeply. He felt his lungs fill with air and his stomach-ache with something he couldn’t sate.

A girl was staring at him on the opposite bench, she looked frightened as if he hadn’t threatened her livelihood. He hated being under scrutiny, so he took off, phone burning in his pocket.

He should call Yoongi, he couldn’t help but consider as he marched up the escalator. It was a stupid thought; he was angry, miserable and confused. He wouldn’t be any use to Yoongi like that, then again, he had no idea how he could be useful to him.

Hoseok had gone back home because Yoongi had approached him one evening, three days after Hoseok had asked about sex, and told him that he was going away for a few days. A trip for himself, he had told Hoseok, and it wasn’t personal, but something he had to do for himself to get into the right headspace.

Hoseok, not wanting to spend lonely, mundane nights in the apartment for an uncertain amount of time once again, had left for home the morning Yoongi had left. He had taken Yoongi’s note with him: ‘I’m sorry about this, I’ll be back soon and then we can talk. I’m really sorry. None of this is your fault and I know this isn’t fair to you. I just don’t know what to do. I love you, Y.’

He had left his own note in return, and looking back, he was ashamed of it: ‘It’s fine, I understand. I’m going home for a bit, maybe until Christmas. Call me when you read this. I love you, too. Hobi.’ It was very plain considering everything he had wanted to say to Yoongi.

Truthfully, he didn’t really understand. Then again, he had never lost a sibling or a parent, or anyone at all. In that way, he was lucky, but Yoongi had not been blessed with the same fortune. Perhaps Yoongi was on a pilgrimage, maybe he had returned home to his own birthplace, or sorting things out with his parents. He had no idea.

His mum had told him to be patient. She had hugged him like he was a kid all over again and told him that it would all sort itself out, he simply had to have faith. So, he was trying to. But it was hard. Harder than it had to be.

Lost in his musings, he found his feet had brought him to the music shop him and his friends always visited after school, shopping for a bargain on mixtapes or CDs by niche underground artists.

The place had been done up since he had last been, which was two years and a bit ago. The colour palette had changed from dingy blue decorated with yellow ‘sale’ signs to a flashy red. It was a nice change and he found comfort in it.

He wondered over to the ‘overseas artists’ aisle, searching for nothing in particular, his thoughts caught between music and Yoongi. He almost didn’t notice the sales assistant approach him.

“Hey, man, can I help you with anything?”

This sales assistant wasn’t like the ones that worked at the store when he was younger. He wasn’t one of those surly guys who were barely legally old enough to work, and who had yelled at him for making too much noise about an album he was excited about. No. This sales assistant looked nice. He was smiling something earnest.

Hoseok smiled back, despite the numbness. “It’s fine, thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Not looking for an international artist?” the sales assistant nodded towards the sign spelling ‘overseas artists’.

“Oh, no, I was just looking. I haven’t been here in ages,” Hoseok found himself admitting. He was hoping the guy would just nod and walk away before he opened his mouth and began spilling his childhood story to a stranger, but the assistant stayed put.

“Oh, really? You live nearby?” the assistant carried on, his expression smoothing out from being polite to being genuinely curious.

“Kinda,” Hoseok shrugged. He wasn’t too sure where he belonged right now. The sales assistant looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish. “Is there anything you recommend?” he gestured to the racks of CD’s in front of him.

The guy threw him another earnest smile. “Of course. It depends what you’re into, of course.”

Hoseok deliberated, unsure of whether to go on a music-based spiel or make some vague excuse and leave. He didn’t want to be on his own right now, and the sales assistant seemed to be friendly. What was the harm?

“I like hip hop. R&B too. I used to come here all the time for Monster Rabid’s new stuff,” Hoseok said, and found the assistant’s face light up.

“Oh, man. Have you listened to their new EP?” Hoseok shook his head. “You’re missing out. Come here, we can line it up on the jukebox.”

“Oh, really? It’s still here?” Hoseok asked, laughing in bewilderment. The age old music player which he and his school friends harassed on the daily, occasionally chasing out a few older patrons who had often visited for vinyls by blasting their current favourite tunes.

Looking back clearly, it was a wonder he had never received a life ban. He supposed the number of purchases he made cancelled out any chance of being kicked out for good.

The store did, in fact, have a jukebox. It was smaller than Hoseok remembered, and more battered too. Maybe another group of schoolchildren had come in and terrorised it once him and his friends had graduated. The thought drew an easy smile to his lips.

“Here she is,” the assistant introduced, as if gesturing to someone extraordinary.

Hoseok laughed as the assistant flipped through the song book. “It’s the same one from when I used to come here as a kid.”

The assistant smiled up at him. His dimples were rather prominent, Hoseok didn’t know how he hadn’t registered them before.

“It’s an OG then,” he said, “or maybe they just couldn’t afford to replace it.”

Hoseok hadn’t expected the sly comment and let out a burst of laughter he had to muffle. The assistant laughed with him, hiding his smile in the song book.

“Are they really that cheap?” Hoseok asked, dropping his volume so that the familiar strict-looking older man standing behind the cash register wouldn’t hear them.

“Well, put it like this, they’re short-staffed and they insisted on only have two people work today,” the assistant muttered, punching the song number into the jukebox.

“Wait, so you and the manager are the only ones on shift?” Hoseok asked, a familiar sense of dread brooding in his stomach. He hated being understaffed at work; the pressure only added to the anxiety he felt in his gut.

The assistant sucked in a breath and nodded just as the familiar chords started playing. “Yeah... it’s about as much fun as it sounds.”

Hoseok laughed in an accompanying manner. “I feel for you, man.”

“Yeah, it’s a worker’s demise. You work?” he asked and Hoseok nodded, silently asking for the songbook the assistant kept leafing through.

“Yeah. Retail.”

The guy nodded, a knowing smile turning up the corners of his lips. “Ah. So you do feel my pain.”

“All too well,” Hoseok mock-lamented, and the assistant chuckled.

There was a brief pause in which Hoseok appreciated the music and the lull in thoughts.

“I’m Lee Chinhae, by the way,” the assistant introduced, holding out his hand, “I would have loved to have pointed to my name-tag, but I’m new here, so I haven’t had one made yet.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4

Chapter Five -  he wants to be tender and merciful (sounds like penance)

The next few days were quiet from both ends. Once Yoongi had calmed down, he didn’t want to let Hoseok out of his sight – which Hoseok found no complaint in – although besides from an odd comment or a hum when Hoseok would say something, he said nothing. They ordered pizza and settled down to watch a movie, the weird fantasy one about a crow which Yoongi had really liked the first time around.

Hoseok went to work and Yoongi took some time off from teaching his piano lessons. It was a great relief to arrive home and be greeted by Yoongi, either by the sound of typing on a laptop of the familiar sound of Yoongi practicing scales. Everything seemed to be slipping back into normalcy, before Yoongi’s disappearance and before being held at gunpoint.

Well, almost.

Seokjin had been calling him, and while he had ignored it for the first few days, replying only with a single text being as cryptic as possible, he wasn’t sure how long he could shut him out. Jungkook had been spamming him too, as well as Jimin who was on the either side of the country.

Hoseok was certain that Yoongi’s phone was blowing up too, well, it would have been had Yoongi turned it on. Hoseok had left it on his bedside and Yoongi had shut it in the drawer – at least he assumed so; he hadn’t seen it for the past few days.

Hoseok didn’t mind the quiet. It wasn’t comfortable – he was sure he and Yoongi would need to have another talk at some point, mostly about Yoongi’s family and how he was dealing with the loss of his brother – but it was nice to settle down into a routine again. He was looking forward to spending another night alone with Yoongi, to snuggle up on the couch and watch a cooking documentary, to listen to Yoongi’s scathing remarks - but he never got the chance.

No sooner had he put the key in the lock upon returning home from work did he realise his domestic fantasy had been put to rest. He heard voices coming from inside. Seokjin had invited himself around.

Panic filled his stomach, twisting and knotting it, acid souring up his throat. He had opened the door and the voices became decipherable.

“- drop it, he’s home.” Yoongi’s low rumble.

“Hey, Seok! We’re in the kitchen, come join us!” Seokjin.

“Jinnie cooked!” Jungkook called.

Hoseok said nothing, taking off his shoes and forcing himself to calm down. Him being panicked was irrational. Yoongi was home and now there no need for him or Seokjin to be in contact with the police. Let alone telling Yoongi anything about the police at all.

He hadn’t planned on telling Yoongi about the bank robbery, not with so much still left unsaid between them. Besides, he was fine, wasn’t he? There would be no point in worry Yoongi when he was preoccupied with a real loss.

He hoped that Seokjin and Jungkook had kept their mouths shut.

He peered into the kitchen, sighting the three sat at the dining room table, half-eaten curry on their plates. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Yoongi said, his eyes lingering on Hoseok for a split second before looking away.

Oh god. It was clear from what he had heard when he had walked in that they had been discussing him, he only hoped it wasn’t what he was dreading.

“Sorry, we started without you. Yoon was hungry,” Jungkook said abashedly.

“That’s a lie. I told them we should wait, but Kook persisted,” Yoongi said dryly. Hoseok couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

“That’s fine. I’m gonna get changed out of this. Don’t wait up,” he said, zipping through the lounge and into the bedroom.

He took his time changing. Black jeans, an old jumper that could have belonged to him when he was younger or one of Yoongi’s. He spent a few moments pulling himself together. He couldn’t change what had happened; if Yoongi knew, he knew. But still, it hurt and annoyed him – it was his experience to share.

He joined them at the table, opposite Yoongi. “This looks good. We expect to be reimbursed for the ingredients though.” He shot a smile at Seokjin who laughed and deliberately ignored him.

“So, we were talking.” Hoseok’s heart skipped. Seokjin cast him a wink. “It’s Friday. We’re all reunited. We should go drinking.”

Hoseok looked to Yoongi, startled to find he was already being surveyed. Yoongi’s expression was crumpled ever so slightly. Hoseok couldn’t tell if it was because of Seokjin’s idea or because of something else.

He ate some rice instead of trying to come up with an answer.

“I suggested we stay at home,” Jungkook supplied when it was evident no one was enthusiastic. “Let’s buy some beer or something and watch a movie. Play some games. You’ve still got the Twister mat, right?”

“Yeah. Spinner’s broken though. Jiminie thought it’d be hilarious to stick it onto a hat,” Yoongi said, and this time Hoseok allowed himself a laugh.

“We can always make it up,” Jungkook said, and Seokjin nodded his approval.

“I have beer in the car,” Seokjin said. “Just in case.”

Yoongi snorted into his curry, a small smile curved onto his mouth as Hoseok sighed, “of course you do.”

“So is it a plan?” Seokjin asked, cocking an eyebrow. Jungkook nodded excitedly, eyes gleaming.

Hoseok looked to Yoongi. “What do you think?”

When Yoongi looked up at him, he was taken aback. The rice congealed together in his mouth. Yoongi’s eyes were so dark in the dim lighting, so encompassing. Hoseok couldn’t tear his gaze away, heart pounding. He found himself wanting to run. But he couldn’t.

And then Yoongi blinked. “I’d rather stay in. Much rather.”

“Okay,” Hoseok said, before forcing down his rice. His heart was still racing. “Sounds like a plan. As long as you two leave tomorrow.” He didn’t want them lingering for more than they had to – besides, he was hoping to have another talk with Yoongi.

Seokjin grinned at him, a somewhat devious sparkle in his eye. Hoseok felt comforted at the sight. “Deal.”

The rest of the night slipped past quickly, filled with laughter and chaos and an eventual complaint from a neighbour. Hoseok liquored up quickly, wanting to forget everything, just to be filled with glee at having Yoongi and his friends by his side again, to have Yoongi undressing him for bed and snuggling next to him the next bleary morning.

He tried hard not to think about a black stare, as black as death: harsh footprints, distorted voice and black mask – cold and unfathomable.

And it worked. He forgot.

For the most part.

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3

Chapter Four -  being completely in the dark but being loved anyway.

Hoseok barely dared to believe it. Yoongi was here in one piece, although there was a scratch on his cheek – visible from where he stood. Yoongi had come back to him. Yoongi was home.

Yoongi rose from the couch, his expression perplexed as he stared back at Hoseok. His hair was mussed, like he had been running his hands through it. Hoseok longed to do the same. He wanted to cup Yoongi’s face in his hands, feel his skin, his hair, his lips. But he wanted to push Yoongi away, yell and scream about why Yoongi had abandoned him at such a crucial time.

“Yoon…” he started, and then stopped himself. Yoongi’s jaw was tense and he seemed to struggle to look Hoseok in the eye. He looked so entirely vulnerable that Hoseok’s heart collapsed, along with his resolution to remain strong.

He dropped his rucksack on the floor and approached Yoongi, he felt Yoongi tense under his hands as he wove his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders. It was reassuring to have Yoongi in his arms again, pressed against his chest so that Hoseok could dip his head and inhale the scent of Yoongi’s shower gel.

It should have been a blissful reunion, but Yoongi remained stiff. Hoseok clasped him tighter, the material of Yoongi’s crinkled shirt bunching beneath his forearms.

He was about to pull away, to peer into Yoongi’s eyes, before Yoongi let out a pained groan and grasped the back of Hoseok’s work shirt.

“Where were you?” Hoseok mumbled against Yoongi’s hair, savouring the scent of Yoongi’s familiar scent, even though it was fairly nondescript.

“I told you,” Yoongi said, his voice low and muffled as he spoke against Hoseok’s chest. “I left a note.”

It was a feeble excuse, but for some reason Hoseok didn’t want to press further. Yoongi was finally home. He didn’t have to call the police and Seokjin no longer needed to worry.

Everything would go back to the way it was.

Of course, Hoseok didn’t truly believe that they would sink back into their old routines, familiar and comfortable – but he did think that relief would be brought with Yoongi’s presence when he eventually returned. This was not the case.

Hoseok decided not to mention that Yoongi had broken his promise he had left on the note, that he would return the next day. He wasn’t going to mention anything, nor pry; he was just utterly relieved that Yoongi had come back to him. He wouldn’t have to ring the police and Seokjin wouldn’t keep phoning him worriedly. Finally, his mind could rest. That was what he had hoped to have happened, but his hopes were dashed severely.

Yoongi’s presence quickly turned from a sense of relief to the cause of the sour feeling in Hoseok’s gut. As days passed, Hoseok woke to Yoongi laying on his side, his back to Hoseok, not snuggled up to Hoseok’s chest as he usually did.

Hoseok would tread carefully to avoid waking Yoongi up although he knew that Yoongi was not really asleep, merely feigning to be. Hoseok would go to work and come back, hoping to see Yoongi sitting in front of his laptop, his glasses framing his eyes, or Yoongi sitting in front of the piano or in front of his old easel and canvas, hoping to see Yoongi acting normally instead of sullen and reserved.

Yoongi wasn’t himself. That much was evident, even from when Hoseok had hugged him in the living room for the first time in days and he had struggled to hug back. Yoongi was distracted and withdrew into himself. Hoseok had no idea where to begin or where to attempt to prise at his worries. He could only wait and hope that Yoongi would reach out to him first and ask to talk, maybe to talk about his brother, or maybe to seize the courage to end it all between them.

Yoongi hadn’t touched him since he had clutched at Hoseok’s back when they exchanged a hug when Yoongi returned. He turned over when Hoseok switched off the light once he had finished reading, barely muttering a ‘goodnight’ back to him, and when Hoseok returned back home after shopping or coming back from a shift, Yoongi would leave the living room, or the kitchen, or wherever Hoseok went, or he would sit, still as a statue, on the couch, as far away from Hoseok as he possibly could sit without being ostentatious. But the distance between them was obvious as far as Hoseok was concerned.

Hoseok, who had longed to hold Yoongi in his arms ever since his disappearance, felt the ache in his stomach every time Yoongi withdrew from him. It hurt, and he wondered why Yoongi was dragging it out.

If Yoongi wanted it over and done with, why was he not being upfront about it? Did he want to hurt him? Was that what the whole disappearance had been about?

He didn’t know, and there was no way he could sit still with these rampant thoughts borrowing themselves deeper into his mind – which was how he ended up shutting himself in the bedroom when he came back to their apartment a week later, finding that Yoongi had gone out to buy some groceries, with the landline phone in hand and Seokjin on the other end of the line.

“Hey, ‘Seok, how’s it going?” Seokjin asked, sounding rather chirpy. He heard a burst of laughter in the background. No doubt Seokjin’s happiness had something to do with Jeongguk. Hoseok’s stomach rolled again, twisting itself into a knot.

“Not good,” he answered honestly, and he heard the hitch in Seokjin’s breath right away. He heard Seokjin excuse himself, rustling and then the sound of a latch locking.

“Alright. What’s going on? It’s Yoon, isn’t it? He still hasn’t replied to any of my texts. Has he said anything to you?” Seokjin asked, his voice low.

Hoseok ran a hand over his face, savouring the darkness under his eyelids. “No. No, he hasn’t said anything to me. At all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not talking at all. He goes around looking sulky, and yet angry, like he’s blaming me for something. Or not. I don’t know. He hardly looks at me. It’s like he’s trying to avoid me, but it’s impossible when he barely leaves the house.”

Seokjin was silent, and for a brief second Hoseok thought that the line had disconnected. He heard a sharp intake of breath and his heart leapt in his chest. “‘Seok…” he fell silent again. “Have you tried to talk to him?”

“Yes!” Hoseok cried, his spare hand flopping from his face onto the bed. “I ask him what he wants for dinner, and what he wants to watch on TV, and whether he wants to write or play the piano or teach me how to paint, but he always says ‘another time’ or just shrugs. It’s like he doesn’t want to talk to me, so I mostly leave him alone-”

“That’s great, ‘Seok, and I’m glad you’re trying, but no. I meant about where he was. You don’t seriously believe the note he left, do you?”

Hoseok’s heart stilled, his blood ran cold, freezing in his veins. He had gone too long without talking about it; refusing to even properly think about it, but the roaring silence in his brain had gone on for too many days now.

“No,” he breathed, the answer seeping out of him guilty, acid throwing itself up his throat. “I don’t. But I can’t ask him.”

“Why not?” Seokjin pushed, sounding frustrated.

Guilty tears sprung to Hoseok’s eyes, and he turned on his side to whisper into the receiver: “he’ll leave me.”

“… What?” Seokjin exclaimed so suddenly that his voice strained and became an octave higher. Hoseok winced, letting his burden unwind. His tears came fast and heavy, rupturing his breathing pace until he was gasping for breath. “Calm down. What are you talking about? What do you mean, he’ll leave you?”

“That’s why he left in the first place,” Hoseok sobbed, hardly hearing Seokjin over his distress. “I told you-”

“And I told you that that’s ridiculous!” Seokjin exclaimed, cutting over Hoseok’s outburst. “Yoon is not the type of person to do that to his friends. Do you really think that low of him?”

Hoseok shifted guiltily, his tears slowing yet gathering at the base of his chin. He sniffed pathetically. “… No,” he said. “Of course not. I just… I don’t know what to think, ‘Jinnie.”

Seokjin was quiet once more, seemingly musing. “No,” he said eventually. “Neither do I. But I know that you have to talk to him.”

Hoseok exhaled slowly, closing his eyes tightly as he forced himself open to the suggestion. He would talk to Yoongi. He would make things right again. He had to.

“Besides, it’s either gonna be you or Kook. He keeps talking about how he’s gonna break in, stage an intervention,” Seokjin chuckled and Hoseok laughed weakly with him, hearing the fondness seep into his voice.

If he were in any other situation he would have prodded for more information, to piece together the developments of Seokjin’s and Jeongguk’s budding romance, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Alright, ‘Jin. I’ll do it,” Hoseok complied weakly, his entire being suddenly drooping with exhaustion.

“Keep us updated,” Seokjin said, to which Hoseok smiled.

“Of course. It’s not like you have any other friends to talk to,” he jested, to Seokjin’s evident disapproval as he let out a gasp of outrage of the other end of the line.

He must have made a retort of some kind but Hoseok was deaf to it. The bedroom door had opened with no prior warning, no noise or sign that could have alerted him to an intruder. His heart pounded violently in his chest and his ears buzzed as the blood rushed to his head.

Yoongi stood in the doorway, his hair limp and the circles under his eyes evident. He regarded Hoseok briefly, his expression blank. Seokjin’s voice became a droning in his ear. Hoseok heard nothing besides the unspoken tension building between him and his boyfriend of two years.

“‘Seok,” Yoongi said, calling Hoseok’s attention to the fact that he hadn’t heard Yoongi’s voice in too long, and it was hoarse and gravelly, like he had spoken far too much instead of too little. Worry twisted in Hoseok’s stomach like a dagger, churning his nerves. Hoseok lowered the phone from his ear, pressing the end call button.

“We need to talk,” Yoongi continued, closing the door behind him. Hoseok sat up, placed the phone on his dresser as he nodded mutedly.

He forced himself to wet his mouth. “Yeah,” he said, “I think we do.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1, 2

Chapter Three - this is the essence of love and failure

Seokjin returned with the necessities both he and Jeongguk needed for one night. Jeongguk had asked him not to mention anything to Seokjin in fear that Seokjin wouldn’t be comfortable with someone knowing about them, so Hoseok said nothing. He turned his eye when seeing Jeongguk roam about in Seokjin’s old shirt.

One night had turned into two with Seokjin and Jeongguk leaving in the early morning so Jeongguk could make it back in time for his class.

“Now, you’re sure you’re gonna be okay?” Seokjin asked before he left.

Hoseok had nodded, his smile coming slightly easier. “Of course, dad.”

Seokjin had laughed before glancing over at Jeongguk who was tying up his shoelaces, murmuring into his phone something about how of course he had done his part of the group project.

“If Yoon’s not back by next Monday, I’m going to call the police.” Hoseok almost didn’t believe the words that fell from Seokjin’s lips. Seokjin’s eyes were serious, piercing. “They’ll probably chew my ass for not calling sooner, but how were we supposed to know? He’s never been away for this long, and the last time he saw his brother was a few years’ back.”

“Police? Why? He’s not missing,” Hoseok had questioned.

Seokjin sighed. “Let’s hope not. But it is strange. He hasn’t talked about his brother in years, and suddenly he’s going to see him for a week? Leaving only a note? I don’t know. Did he say anything to you the day he left?”

Hoseok had shook his head, trying to remember what had happened a few hours before a gun was pointed at his head. “He woke up late. I told him I was going to work a late shift at the shop - but they let me off early. He said he didn’t have anything to do that day, maybe he would work on the book he’s writing. He didn’t… he never said anything about Seung.”

Seokjin had looked perplexed for a split second before pulling him in for a hug. When he let go, his expression was masked, but Hoseok could tell he was concerned. Maybe he had figured out that Yoongi had done a runner.

But why? Although he wasn’t the best, he didn’t think he was particularly a bad or neglectful boyfriend. He cooked Yoongi meals he liked, helped edit any writing drafts that Yoongi sent through to him, and he knew exactly how to push Yoongi to the limits, dismantling him so that he reached his headspace, squirming and begging for Hoseokie.

He loved Yoongi. Every mad colour Yoongi had dyed his hair he had supported, even helped him dye it – along with their bathtub. He loved the tone of Yoongi’s voice when he was being sarcastic, or earnest or happy. He loved Yoongi’s features and how soft they were, how soft Yoongi was, both outside and in.

But situations like this called attention to the fact that Hoseok really didn’t know Yoongi at all; he hardly knew anything about Seung, Yoongi’s brother, let alone the family he had grown up in. Maybe that was his fault; maybe Yoongi had felt that Hoseok hadn’t paid enough attention to him or listened to him enough.

Hoseok vowed he would change, he would do anything for Yoongi, but would Yoongi do the same for him? He liked to think that he would, but that was all it was – mere whims and musings. Yoongi wasn’t here to ask, and even if he was, Hoseok didn’t think he had it in him to inquire spontaneously if Yoongi loved him as much as he loved Yoongi.

He still loved Yoongi, and some part of him knew he always would, even if Yoongi really had abandoned him, or needed some time away from Hoseok. Perhaps he had been too overbearing, too suffocating. It hurt to dwell over it, but it was all he could do.

All he had now was time, time to sit and think, yet, that was the last thing he wanted to do. So after Seokjin and Jeongguk left, Hoseok used the landline to call into work and ask for extra shifts. He couldn't take not filling up his spare time between shifts and being home by distracting himself with a phone, so he took the train further into the city to visit a phone store. He managed to acquire a new phone of the same model as his old one, as well as the same number.

For the next few days he set up a routine. He restocked the cupboards and the fridge with the household funds he and Yoongi had put away, and then he set out to work for an afternoon shift.

He busied himself with idle chat with customers and moving displays, worlds away from robberies and murderous gangs. When he returned in the evening, however, he was distracted from reading the book he had purchased on the way home when Seokjin called him, telling him to turn on the news channel with no further explanation.

“- broadcasted earlier today a message stating that the Blackouts had officially disbanded. Social media is commenting how the statement of the violent gang resembles that of a boy band. Police are looking into the tape anonymously submitted to the department and there are reports of professionals being uncertain whether it is a prank due to the officiality of the packaging-”

Hoseok turned the channel over, his heart pounding. But he couldn’t escape, the words spouting from the TV speakers wiggled into his ears, worming around his brain.

“The Blackouts have retired from their life of crime after a robbery at the-”

“Police are looking into the evidence left on the packaging of the tape to locate any potential suspects-”

“- killers walking among us. Do they expect to sink back into a normal life? After killing with no hesitation? How do these brutal murderers expect to hold jobs, buy houses, keep relationships? They’ve terrorised the public for years, their kill streak merciless-”

“- the police can speculate, but no one knows who they really are, do they? No one knows how many members there are and what ages they range from – all reports differ. They have no face. They could be a stranger on the street, an acquaintance, even a friend or family. Are they still at large? Even if The Blackouts have decided to drop their life of crime as a gang, who’s to say if they’re going to drop crime out of their individual lives altogether?”

Hoseok switched the TV off, faces of hosts from news shows and entertainment channels blurring together in his mind to make a shadow, a faceless figure. A dark shape with a mask, eyes hidden yet cold, calculating, animalistic.

The phone rang, causing him to startle. Still, he jumped up from the couch, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin had called him back.

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1

Chapter Two - digging out the bullet and holding it up to the light

Yoongi had left a note, but Hoseok found that he could scarcely run his eyes over it let alone process it. The exhaustion had caught up with him and was tugging at his eyelids, slumping his whole body.

Although his mind was racing, his body couldn’t keep up. He felt he should have been fraught with nerves, but instead he found himself melting into bed, turning onto his side to face where Yoongi would have been sleeping and curling his arms around himself, falling asleep within seconds.

His panic mode must have set in as when he woke up, the sun was streaming through the blinds and the time on his alarm clock told him it was a little past one. His stomach growled. Being held at gunpoint had sure made him hungry.

The kitchen was empty, as was the rest of the apartment. Yoongi must have visited his brother, something he always did without much warning. He didn’t like to talk about it but Hoseok had always assumed that Seung had fragile health.

The note only confirmed Hoseok’s theory as he read it over a meagre breakfast of leftover rice. Gone to be with S, be back soon. I love you - Y.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter One - it starts with bloodshed, always bloodshed, always the same. (Preview)

Hoseok had only been thinking of his month’s paycheque when he got out of work early and stepped into the bank. The cash machine outside was temporarily out of order and he had needed to ask a general sort of question that he had been too lazy to look up online. He could withdraw some cash and ask the question as if it were an afterthought to save himself looking stupid. He had even been thinking of how to phrase it whilst he waited in line. It was a slow night and there was only one person in front of him, but still he found himself considering if it was worth it.

He could go home now and withdraw the cash tomorrow. It would be nice to get home to Yoongi as soon as possible, and as there was twenty minutes to eleven, there was a good chance that Yoongi would be awake enough to watch a rerun of one of those aimless gameshows they loved to hate.

He was beginning to turn on his foot, but it was too late. He should have acted a few seconds sooner, but this thought only occurred to him when the door was kicked open and the lights shut down.

Keep reading

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter: 1

Chapter Two - digging out the bullet and holding it up to the light

Yoongi had left a note, but Hoseok found that he could scarcely run his eyes over it let alone process it. The exhaustion had caught up with him and was tugging at his eyelids, slumping his whole body.

Although his mind was racing, his body couldn’t keep up. He felt he should have been fraught with nerves, but instead he found himself melting into bed, turning onto his side to face where Yoongi would have been sleeping and curling his arms around himself, falling asleep within seconds.

His panic mode must have set in as when he woke up, the sun was streaming through the blinds and the time on his alarm clock told him it was a little past one. His stomach growled. Being held at gunpoint had sure made him hungry.

The kitchen was empty, as was the rest of the apartment. Yoongi must have visited his brother, something he always did without much warning. He didn’t like to talk about it but Hoseok had always assumed that Seung had fragile health.

The note only confirmed Hoseok’s theory as he read it over a meagre breakfast of leftover rice. Gone to be with S, be back soon. I love you - Y.

Hoseok he sat on the couch, the TV on as background noise. The apartment was too quiet with the sound of Yoongi warming up on the piano or humming something under his breath absentmindedly as he got changed or shaved or had a shower. Everything seemed muted without Yoongi.

He had no phone to check for messages or waste time on, and even if he wanted to contact Yoongi, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. Every time Yoongi visited his brother, he left his laptop and phone at home. Hoseok had always assumed it was because there was no connection out there, or Yoongi’s brother was in such critical condition that there was no time to be spared on electronical devices.

So Hoseok was left watching the TV. He had just booted up his laptop when a news announcement wedged itself between the break and the programme he was watching.

The bank flashed across the screen, a serious looking news-reporter displayed in the corner. Hoseok watched, immobile, as the image of police roaming around the same building that his very life was threatened.

Four hostages. A late night break-in. Over fifty-thousand stolen. No casualties. A familiar trend in robberies stemming back five years. A gang, known as the Blackouts, possibly reassembling for the first time in two years? Security on high alert around the Daegu banking district. No suspects as of late...

Hoseok turned off the TV, his ears deafened to the resounding silence of the apartment.

His laptop sat on his lap, the fan whirring captured his attention. His heart leapt into his throat, his eyes landing on the smile on Yoongi’s face. His background was a picture of Yoongi’s twenty-sixth birthday, a few seconds away from where Hoseok had accidentally dropped the cake onto Yoongi’s lap.

He had been so cute that day, even with icing smeared up and down his jeans. He had been even cuter without the jeans, when he gazed up at Hoseok with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, whispering in a heavy voice that he wanted more, wanted Hoseok more than he had ever wanted anything.

When Hoseok reminded him of it the next day when the two woke up at noon, still wrapped around each other, Yoongi had blushed yet again and turned his head away. But he hadn’t denied it or claimed that he couldn’t remember.

In that moment Hoseok remembered thinking that Yoongi was the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on.

He missed Yoongi. He needed Yoongi, but there was no way of reaching him. He had never written down his brother’s number nor address, so Hoseok had no idea how to find him, and neither did Hoseok want to bother Yoongi if his brother was in critical condition.

Physically, Hoseok was fine, and he knew that he was beyond lucky. If the ‘Boss’ hadn’t ensured that the rookie’s gun had been lowered, he would have had suffered a quick death hours ago.

Hoseok almost bit through his tongue dwelling on the memory of a black mask, eyes void of anything but darkness and a voice cold and spitting.

He tried to shove the image away, focusing on opening his inbox and composing a message to Yoongi. Even if Yoongi hadn’t brought his phone with him, hopefully he would have access to a computer, and he would get it almost right away and reply.

Hey, Yoonie. If you got my texts and replied, I couldn’t get them, my phone’s broken. Stay with your brother, he needs you. When you come back we can order takeaway and watch that weird movie about the crow? I love you. Seokie xxxx

He waited as an hour crept by. He played around on an online game, losing every round. He watched some uninteresting videos about zany TV hosts and waited some more. Two hours.

He received a call on the landline, and he jumped at it to discover it was the police department calling him in for that follow-up interview. He didn’t want to leave the apartment, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stay inside. He took the train to the police station just to answer with more or less the same answer.

How many of them were there? I couldn’t be certain.

Did you hear any of their conversation? Not really. I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Do you have any affiliation with any street gangs? Any reason that this particular group would spare you? No. I don’t know.

When he returned home, he discovered he was restless, his mind racing. He hadn’t gotten any more information from the police, and neither them from him. He went for a quick walk around the block which turned into a brisk jog, and then a hurried run as if he was being chased. He took another shower before a disappointing lunch of undercooked noodles. Three hours.

Evening rolled around and he switched the TV back on, pulling Yoongi’s blanket over himself and burying his nose in the material. He couldn’t make it to midnight having received no reply. He forced himself into bed, wrapping the duvet around himself.

He flitted around between the realms of sleep and being awake for too long. He felt cripplingly empty and too full at the same time. He clasped Yoongi’s pillow to his chest, catching a whiff of Yoongi’s honey shampoo and his natural sweet scent. The pillow became sodden after a while, his shoulders heaving and his body shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

Fatigued, he fell asleep, although he woke up restless during the night. He forced his eyes shut and when he next opened them, the birds were chirping, and he heard the sound of cars below. The bed was empty, save for him, just like the apartment. His inbox was devoid of new messages.

With shaking fingers, he typed out a new message, barely having the will to do so, before he sent it off. He couldn’t bring himself to wait for a reply either, so he shut his laptop and turned on the TV.

The news was uninteresting, speaking of foreign diplomats and the rising price of supermarket stock. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and then-

The victims of the bank robbery gave their statements and they matched the appearances of the members to be those of the Blackouts. Six suspects, one leader and five accomplices. Security on high alert...

Hoseok knew little about gangs, but even he had heard of the ‘Blackouts’. Ruthless criminals aspiring to make money fast. When he had lived at home, there had been an infamous shoot-out in the Philippines, and the next day his classmates had talked about the gang’s kill streak.

Their hierarchy was built upon who had the most kills, apparently, and the ‘Boss’ was supposed to have executed over one-hundred. It lined up with everything the rookie had said, about how infamously terrifying the leader of the Blackouts was supposed to be, and yet… He had spared Hoseok’s life.

He didn’t want to dwell on it. He didn’t want to risk thinking that the ‘Boss’ had any remorse for human life. Hoseok was just one casualty they couldn’t afford in their limited time span.

He hadn’t known that it had been the Blackouts to threaten his life. Did that make him a war hero of some kind? Most likely not. It wasn’t as if he had fought back. He was ready to comply to the gun, to give into death.

The Blackouts. What an awful name. It suited their image though, cold, dark and hopeless. It gave him a new feeling of fear, spiking through his system.

He wasn’t held at gunpoint by just any robbers. He had almost faced death due to a group of experienced thieves, burglars, murderers.

Hoseok turned the TV off once more, resolving not to switch it on until his mind was somewhat clearer. He supposed all he could give it was time and some sort of distraction. And he found the perfect distraction in the ringing of the doorbell.

“Jung Hoseok, you open the door right now!” A familiar voice yelled out.

Read the rest on AO3!

[taekookismylifeline]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Collateral (of love and bullets) Pairing: Yoongi/Hoseok Synopsis: Jung Hoseok may not be as successful as he wished to be when he was younger. Instead of being a dance instructor in his own dance studio, he worked full-time at a local supermarket – but at least he is happy, living with his boyfriend of two years, Min Yoongi, in a not-so-crappy apartment in the city. However, when he gets caught up in a robbery at his bank and his boyfriend disappears, his happiness is challenged, along with everything he thought he knew about the people he holds dear.

Chapter One - it starts with bloodshed, always bloodshed, always the same. (Preview)

Hoseok had only been thinking of his month’s paycheque when he got out of work early and stepped into the bank. The cash machine outside was temporarily out of order and he had needed to ask a general sort of question that he had been too lazy to look up online. He could withdraw some cash and ask the question as if it were an afterthought to save himself looking stupid. He had even been thinking of how to phrase it whilst he waited in line. It was a slow night and there was only one person in front of him, but still he found himself considering if it was worth it.

He could go home now and withdraw the cash tomorrow. It would be nice to get home to Yoongi as soon as possible, and as there was twenty minutes to eleven, there was a good chance that Yoongi would be awake enough to watch a rerun of one of those aimless gameshows they loved to hate.

He was beginning to turn on his foot, but it was too late. He should have acted a few seconds sooner, but this thought only occurred to him when the door was kicked open and the lights shut down.

A hand clutched around his wrist and he heard a breathy, “oh, God,” in his ear. His mind whirled as he blinked in the darkness and he found that the person who had grabbed hold of him was the elderly woman who had been in front of him.

“It’s nothing to worry about, ma’am,” he said as calmly as he could, despite the creeping suspicion that they were not alone that crawled over his skin. “It’s just a power cut-“

“Everyone, get down on your knees and put your head on the floor!” A harsh muffled voice demanded, echoing in the entirety of the room. “No sudden movements. If you move, we shoot. Don’t try us and you’ll get to walk free!”

A glaring light ran over Hoseok’s face, but he couldn’t even blink. He was frozen in shock, his survival instincts to run were being deterred by the knowledge that if he made a beeline for the exit, he would most likely be attacked. His vision focussed and he could make out six figures clad in black, each holding a beam of light. Not torches though, something bulkier that fit into two hands. Oh.

Hoseok’s knees buckled and he slid to the floor. The woman behind him gasped, her breaths quick and laboured. But he couldn’t do anything to console her, not when the threat of a bullet in his brain loomed over him. Instead, he complied, and he lowered his head to the floor.

Luckily for him, the infiltrators weren’t paying strict attention to him as they were busy threatening the two employees behind the counters. He heard a loud thump of something heavy and he could only guess that an employee had either fainted or had been knocked out.

Oh, god. It struck him only then that he was in a hostage situation. Life or death. He wasn’t sure whether an employee had hit the emergency button since there seemed to be only split seconds between when the robbers first entered and when they had cornered the staff.

Hoseok tried to control his breathing as he felt the world begin to shake around him. There were only six robbers and five hostages, that he knew of, which meant that they were outnumbered. But what could he do? He needed help. He needed to get help.

There was no way he was going to able to call the police without attracting attention, and consequently, a bullet. But his phone was in the front pocket and could most likely be pushed out onto the rug beneath him with his elbow. But then what? Would his hunched body be able to retain the glow of his phone screen? Would he be able to scan his fingerprint and coherently text a contact for help?

Fear gripped a hold of him, and he listened out for any noise in his proximity. From what he heard, the figures were scattered behind and in front of the counter. Perhaps only a few had been assigned the task of watching the hostages whilst the majority began their search for the money. Straining his ears, he hoped to pick up a few pieces of their conversation.

“- at the vault. Use this to get inside. It should shut down the-“

“- twenty minutes-“

“- enough. Ready, R?”

“- behind you, Boss.”

They seemed to be on the move and Hoseok sparsely gave himself time to think and acted instead. He pushed his elbow back until it scraped over his jean pocket and he pressed until his phone slid out beneath him. It turned on at the sudden movement and Hoseok thanked any god listening that it had automatically adjusted its brightness and was at the lowest possible lighting level.

He ducked his body further to shield the light and curled his hand inwards to scan his fingerprint over the home button. He stayed still for a solid minute, his eyes watering and his shaking lips clamped together as he heard scuffling coming from behind him. The woman was crying, her coat crinkling, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of footsteps approaching.

With shaking fingers, he pulled up the message app and hurled a text off, panicked and abrupt. He only hoped that Yoongi was still awake and that the authorities were quick to respond. But all hopes were quick to dissipate when he heard the tread of shoes near his head and something cool press against his temple. The woman let out a broken sob from behind him.

“Hey,” a voice said, muffled and distorted until it sounded inhuman. Despite himself, Hoseok shivered. Fear was pressing on every nerve. He was done for; his phone was still on and he had no hope to turn it off now. “What you got there?”

Hoseok’s heart stopped in his chest, his blood stilled in his veins and he felt whatever breath he had left inside his lungs dissipate. He had been caught; he was surely going to die.

“Put your hands behind your head and get up,” the voice demanded coolly, sounding far too casual for a life or death situation. Clearly, the figure had done it before - killed.

Hoseok didn’t think his body would obey his commands, but when a boot kicked against his leg his brain rebooted with a start. He had no choice but to leave his phone on the floor as he rose up slowly, his back clicking with the effort.

His breathing was scarce but ragged and his heart had been jolted into action, beating wildly against his chest as the figure kicked Hoseok’s phone away from him to another infiltrator a few yards away.

Hoseok kept his eyes fixed on the ground and tried not to let the sudden heat of his body affect him. He would not pass out as he knew it would count as a sudden movement and he was more than likely to receive a bullet in his head.

“He’s called for help,” the other figure said. So many figures all clad in black, Hoseok could hardly keep track of them all, yet he knew that there weren’t that many. Six, he thought. But maybe he had been wrong. They seemed to be multiplying in the darkness, black figures surveying his every move.

“Police?” The figure beside him asked, the gun inching closer to Hoseok’s temple.

“Nah. Some guy,” the other figure replied, ripping off his glove to type something out. Hoseok’s stomach twisted with acid with the knowledge that the last message he had supposedly ever messaged Yoongi would be coming from a thieving murderer. The figure dropped Hoseok’s phone on the floor and stamped on it with particular relish.

“There,” the figure said, his disguised voice mocking. “Could have gotten out of this alive, but you had to be difficult.”

Oh, god. Fuck fuck fuck. This was really happening and there was nothing Hoseok could do to stop it. He was going to die and all he could do was bite his lip to stop himself from whimpering. He thought he heard the woman behind him choke out another feeble sob.

“Wait,” the figure next to him said, lowering his gun somewhat. Still, Hoseok hardly dared to breathe. “We need to ask Boss. No casualties, remember?”

“You want to go to him now?” The figure who had shattered Hoseok’s phone said, and even the modification of his voice couldn’t conceal his disbelief.

What else do you suggest?” The figure holding a gun to his head shot back. “His phone’s destroyed, what else can we do? This isn’t what we’re here for.”

The figure who seemed all for killing him took a step forwards. His footsteps were the only sound in the main hall besides the elderly woman who was sobbing uncontrollably into the ground.

“We kill him here,” the figure said, lifting his gun and aiming his laser at Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok’s breath ran out, his blood turning cold.

“Idiot,” the figure besides him said, his mechanical voice cracking. “No casualties!”

“If the mission isn’t jeopardised,” the other figure retorted, cocking his gun.

This was it, this was the end.

Hoseok squeezed his eyes to a painful close. He was going to meet his end due to a bullet. Instead of positive memories, his endless list of regrets poured through his mind.

He never got to own his own dance studio and teach. He never got to laugh at one of Seokjin’s crappy jokes for the last time or eat ice-cream with Jimin at the café that only opened in the summer. He never got the chance to see Jeongguk graduate, and he never got to own a house with a dog or start a family. He didn’t even get to tell Yoongi he loved him for the last time.

Yoongi loved hearing Hoseok’s words of affection, even though he blushed and wriggled away from Hoseok’s advances, he would almost immediately sink back into Hoseok’s arms and press an endearingly affectionate kiss to his lips and mutter the same words back.

I love you.

There was the sound of metal clanking and then the sound of footsteps.

“What’s going on here?” A cold voice, its voice heavily modified to sound threatening. Hoseok’s skin prickled at the monstrous sound.

“Boss!” The figure next to him exclaimed, clearly caught off guard. His attention had turned from Hoseok to face behind him at the approaching figure. Boss. Undoubtedly the leader of the break-in.

“Rookie Two was about to shoot a hostage ‘cause he sent a help text to a friend,” the figure explained.

“I intercepted, Boss. It’s taken care of. Just about.” The figure, Rookie Two, aimed his gun again and every muscle in Hoseok’s body tensed for the last time.

"Lower your gun,” the cold voice snarled. The seconds in which followed were torturous and Hoseok was certain he was visibly shaking, his heavy breathing audible. “Do it!”

Rookie Two growled his compliance before lowering his gun. The figure next to him did the same, leaving Hoseok to almost collapse to the ground in relief. He might not die today.

Might.

(Read the rest on AO3)