Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seokjin waited for him at the top of an apartment building where the world was mostly quiet. Filtered noises of traffic drifted up from the street, but no voices distracted him as he waited for the rookie to find him. Reports of the kid said Jeon Jeongguk, age 21, would meet him solely due to his excitement for the profession, untampered despite already having a few close calls.

--floors are there? What if he’s actually at the top? Oh, man.

He’d left Jeongguk the door code for the building, lent by a friend of his, and he sat among the plants, eyes on the skyline. He wasn’t afraid of blending in, the famous blue-white-gray color blocks of his suit a bright contrast to the gentle greens.

When the door creaked open, he turned on cue, and series of strange events happened.

A head peaked out, a sleek black mask hiding his eyes and covering the bridge of his nose, though it did nothing to hide the characteristic size of his eyes that only grew bigger as he caught sight of Seokjin.

“Hello,” Seokjin said.

Oh my god he’s so hot I can’t— Jeongguk tried to say something back, but it came out as a wordless squeak—

The door opened behind him, and Seokjin turned around to greet the rookie superhero.

“Hello,” Seokjin said, not noticing anything was off until Jeongguk’s thoughts trickled in.

Okay, play it cool, don’t embarrass yourself this time. He offered Seokjin a cool smile. “You wanted to speak with me, Meta?” I hope it’s okay that I called him that. Should I rewind again?

The facts clicked into place, the whiplash almost enough to make Seokjin sick. He’d heard about Jeongguk’s power, but it was another thing altogether to live through time itself being rewound. Dizzying when he could see the parallel reality in Jeongguk’s thoughts.

“I did,” Seokjin said. “A few of us in the community are concerned about you, so I was asked to come talk to you about training.”

“What about it?” Jeongguk refocused, not shaken by the reset. “I’m not contracted with HQ, why would I need training?”

“The incident with the bank,” Seokjin said. “You saved the hostages, but almost got yourself and several cops blown up.”

Jungkook winced. Seokjin went on, “And not to sound ungrateful, but society’s been keeping tabs on you. You end up in the hospital for at least 60 percent of your interventions.”

He’d looked so excited when he joined Seokjin on the roof at first, but now Jeongguk tucked his shoulders in, expression pensive.

“At least no one else gets hurt.”

“If we didn’t care about your well-being, I wouldn’t be here.”

Seokjin stood and walked toward him, biting back a snort when Jeongguk’s thoughts focused on his chest, scattering again. Some of the newer-age heroes scoffed at the traditional spandex suit, but Seokjin loved to show off his body as much as the public loved to look at it. Seokjin tried not to smirk as the rookie reminded himself to keep his mouth closed.

“So,” Jeongguk glared up at him as Seokjn came to a stop, “are you here to warn me away from work?”

“Not in the least. I’m here to make a deal.”

He could feel the Jeongguk’s interest, so he explained, “The community wants you to work with a senior hero for a while to get a feel for your style. We can jump in and help if things get hairy, offer advice, work with you so you can be the more effective.”

A spike of irritation passed through the younger hero, but Jeongguk just said, “Who would I be with?”

“People were favoring me,” Seokjin said. “But, if you’d prefer someone else, they’re willing to compromise. This isn’t meant to be a punishment.”

Damn. Punish me, daddy.

Seokjin bit back his smile as Jeongguk replied aloud, “I wouldn’t mind working with you. How long would it be for?”

“I don’t know. Until your injuries on the job decrease?” He shrugged. “Or until you have nothing more to learn from me.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.” Jeongguk slipped his hands into the pockets of his tan duster. “Effective immediately?”

“Basically.” As stupid as it felt, Seokjin drew his phone from his utility belt, allowing it to scan his fingerprint before he input the passcode. “We can exchange numbers and pick a first day to go patrolling.”

Jeongguk almost joked about picking up his number so quickly, but he held himself back and instead entered his own into Seokjin’s phone.

“I don’t think we can work together,” Seokjin said after he finished.

“Why?”

“Paradox is a Marvel character. I can’t believe you’re using it as your name.”

Shooting him an offended look, Jeongguk said, “Paradox is DC, first of all—”

Sensing a rant coming, Seokjin laughed and cut him off, “We’ll work on it.”

***

It was dangerous to know each other’s real names. Seokjin had Jeongguk’s because of his powers, but when he called him to arrange their next meeting at a hero-controlled bar, his caller ID also outed him. They would have to talk about that.

He sat at the bar, dead center, in pedestrian clothes. Out of everyone, his identity mattered a little less. Being able to hear threats before they struck made him a little more complacent and willing to take the risk.

Thoughts wafted to him about everything, Seokjin dipping in and tuning them out when nothing of interest caught his attention. He ordered a Jack and Coke, knowing one drink would do nothing but warm his stomach. His roommate cooked dinner before the meeting, so he might even have more than one.

He said I could wear the mask! Seokjin heard the insulted thoughts the moment Jeongguk stepped foot into the bar. No one in here is wearing a mask! He fumbled to stuff it into his pocket before anyone beyond the host could notice.

Seokjin bit back a smile as he thanked the bartender, taking a swig of his drink as he heard the other searching for him, his thoughts a constant stream of nerves and pouting.

Amusingly, Jeongguk recognized him by the line of his shoulders, Seokjin could hear, and he took another drink, setting his glass down as the man stepped up to the bar and took a seat.

Jeongguk glanced at him, and if his eyes seemed childlike behind the mask, with nothing covering them, they changed his face, making him appear younger than his file said.

Is this him? God, I can’t just call him ‘Metacognition’ here. It would sound too stupid if I’m wrong.

“There’s nothing wrong with my name, Jeongguk,” Seokjin huffed.

Panic flashed over Jeongguk’s features, his thoughts scrambling with surprise when, and he pouted at him. “That’s not fair. I don’t know your real name.”

Having expected Jeongguk to scold him for ‘digging around in his head,’ as people liked to call it, he laughed instead. “That’s good. Better for privacy if people can’t find out.”

He waved the bartender over and said, “Put whatever he orders on my tab.”

Jeongguk frowned. “You don’t have to do that.” But, before Seokjin could demur, he ordered a Sprite.

Seokjin almost laughed, but Jeongguk thought, almost viciously, Drinking while doing business doesn't seem like a good idea.

A smile curled at Seokjin’s lips. “You’re right.” He sipped at his own drink just to prove a point. “We should get started.”

Lifting his shoulder bag from the floor, he produced a crisp manila folder and laid out the ways for Jeongguk to manipulate his belongings so they wouldn't tie back to Jeon Jeongguk. He showed him where to replace his costumes and how to order supplies without looking suspicious.

“Unless you want to live at Headquarters,” Seokjin said.

Some professional heroes, the ones with no families or loose ends, would live openly with their own names. They had to live in one of the most secure buildings known to man to support the lifestyle, and things like going to the grocery store could leave them vulnerable, but some preferred being cautious to living double lives.

“No.”

And they sat there for two hours, Seokjin helping Jeongguk with the paperwork.

“Really, you might want to change your name.”

“Shut up.”

The bartender began cleaning up for the end of the night, and Seokjin convinced Jeongguk to patrol with him the next day.

“Bright and early?” Jeongguk sat up a little straighter, exhaustion retreating from his expression.

“No.” Seokjin grimaced. “Maybe like, ten.” At the look the younger man gave him, he shrugged, “You’ll be thanking me when you’re wide awake on patrol. Besides, you think villainy likes to wake up early? That’s a convention of society.”

Jeongguk stared at him, even his thoughts stalling, and he finally snorted. “You’re…not what I expected.” Images flashed to Seokjin of posters and hours on YouTube watching the Dragons in action.

“Heroes and real people are rarely the same thing.” Seokjin shifted to rise from the bar stool.

He thought he saw Jeongguk rolling his eyes, but he couldn’t quite be sure.

***

Seokjin waited at their designated bus stop, curious to see if Jeongguk was the punctual type or not. The file didn’t include stuff like that, and while tardiness didn’t annoy him, Seokjin wanted to know more about what kind of person he was mentoring.

He texted him not to wear his costume openly, but unlike his own, Jeongguk’s looked more like normal clothing. Aside from his stupid, dramatic duster and the mask, he wore his normal clothes in public, often didn’t wear the same shirt and pants with the duster. It was unlikely for a superhero, and too soon to tell if it was smart or dangerous.

A person approached from behind the stop, their thoughts fixed on the ads, and Seokjin smiled to himself, calling, “Hey, Guk.”

The man to his left didn’t even look up from his newspaper. An irritated harrumph answered him as Jeongguk rounded the edge of the bench.

“How did you know it was me?” He hissed, trying and failing to whisper.

“You were trying too hard. It’s kind of obvious.”

Jeongguk sank down next to him, arms crossed. He was wearing his duster, its pockets weighed down with his materials, like Seokjin used his utility belt.

“Then how am I supposed to block you?”

“You don’t,” Seokjin said, rising when the downtown bus came into view. “And even if I knew how to do that, telling you would be stupid.” He glanced at Jeongguk, who refused to meet his gaze. “You don’t tell people your weaknesses.”

You sound like you have a lot of close friends. The thought was sharp despite the pouting tone, and though Jeongguk wasn’t rude enough to voice it aloud, it rubbed Seokjin the wrong way.

“Again, you wouldn’t know. Loved ones are vulnerabilities.”

"How am I supposed to learn anything from you if you don’t tell me anything?" Jeongguk said.

The other two people waiting at the bus stop either had earphones in or ignored them. It must seem sloppy to Jeongguk, but Seokjin spied those things the moment he sat down.

Seokjin could feel his resentment building, and he said, "You will fight and succeed in different ways than me."

"What—"

"Imagine," he interjected, "that bank robbery where you saved your hostages and burnt your hands so badly you couldn't clench your fingers. Reading minds, I can call bluffs. I know when people are going to shoot. I can adjust when conversations go badly. But mind reading can't stop a man from shooting me." He paused to let his words sink in. "Together, no one might have gotten hurt that day."

Jeongguk clenched his hands in memory. Seokjin observed the hostage situation second-hand through his memories, the images rapid as they flashed. There was a taste of fear, then too much pain that peaked after the police recovered the hostages.

They paid their bus fare as they ascended the stairs, Seokjin guiding them to a pair of seats. The morning commuters all arrived by this point, so they didn’t have to stand. After running through the other passengers' thoughts to check for danger, Seokjin refocused on the rookie, still sulking even after Seokjin relinquished the aisle seat to him.

"If you're good with hostages and I'm good with action, what's the point of you working with me?" Jeongguk snapped after they rode the bus downtown, his words thick as if they'd been stewing for a while.

"You need tempered." Seokjin tuned out Jeongguk's thoughts once he heard handsome can only get him so far. "We don't need any more dead supes."

By the time they exited the bus, Seokjin thought about killing Jeongguk at least three different times. After a brief period of regret, his thoughts circling around Seokjin, Jeongguk considered running, considered snapping at Seokjin again—considered insulting him—and Seokjin realized that contrary to his own beliefs, he was babysitting.

"Listen," he cut off another mental tirade as they exited the bus, "I can leave, and you can continue to hurt yourself and suck as a superhero. Is that what you want?"

Jeongguk's eyes flashed with resentment, but he didn't speak.

"Then you're going to listen to me. We're going to fucking patrol, do you understand? We're going to look for trouble, think before we engage, and buy lunch around 12:30 so we don't miss any lunch rush crimes."

A flicker of amusement passed through Jeongguk, though he did his best to conceal that externally. Part of Seokjin then waited for complaints about how boring patrolling was, but Jeognguk seemed used to that, at least. After he popped off on the kid, they patrolled the area without any specific complaints.

It was dull work, and they didn't talk much. Jeongguk stopped engaging at all, speaking only when relevant to their mission.

They continued like this for two more days, before Seokjin finally lost it to his roommate, kicking open the door, not even sure that anyone was home, and exclaiming, "Fuck the youth."

"Hm?" Taehyung's head popped up from behind the couch, hair messy like he'd either been dead asleep or sucking dick.

"What did the youth do?" A second head, belonging to Taehyung's boyfriend, Jimin, joined his, and Seokjin scowled at them.

"First, all pants better be on." He fought to stay out of their heads, not wanting another in depth picture of Jimin's dick. "It's that rookie HQ put me with. He's a little asshole."

"I thought you liked little assholes, hyung?" Jimin sat fully up, cackling.

Seokjin threw a shoe at him, his frustration overwhelming. "I'm serious. He acts like a kindergartner."

The duo exhaled, sensing Seokjin wouldn't be leaving them any time soon, but he'd warned them about messing around on the couch, so they earned this. He sat down on the side of the couch least likely to contain suspicious stains and explained Jeongguk, trying to quote whenever he could.

When he finished, Jimin said, "You sound all wizened and shit. I'd have punched you."

"Hyung," Taehyung spoke before Seokjin could wack Jimin with the decorative pillow a second time. "He just started, right? You're sucking the air out of him." He shot him a pointed look. "You tend to do that when you get started on 'honor' and 'duty.'"

"Excuse me for caring about my job." He swallowed additional anger, not wanting to take it out on his friends even if they were being annoying. "Look, I've seen this before. I've done this exact thing before. They had to do skin grafts on his hands already; I'm not supposed to be the reckless part of his superhero experience. I'm supposed to be the one that helps him keep his skin while he’s trying to save the world."

“You know what you should do?” Jimin asked. “You should take him out to a bar." At Seokjin's scandalized glare, he clarified, "Not during work hours or whatever, but after. Get to know him away from the hero shit. You can't exactly reach someone you know nothing about." 

"And being able to read someone's thoughts doesn't mean you know them," Taehyung added. "Remember, you used to think I was an idiot."

Neither Seokjin nor Jimin responded to that, but Taehyung just wrapped an arm around Seokjin's waist, trying to tickle him until the elder kicked him away.

"Just try. It can't hurt."

 Seokjin grumbled, but his thoughts raced. It had to be worth a shot.

 "We'll see” was all he said.

***

Two drinks in, Seokjin regretted listening to them.

Jeongguk matched his drinks with a competitive streak, but while the burn just faded for Seokjin, the rookie hero’s cheeks were flushed, a constant, unconscious grin taking residency.

“This is nice,” he said for the umpteenth time, after Seokjin reassured him that he understood that he liked the drinks. “I didn’t think you liked fun.”

Seokjin downed another shot, trying to chase it with his irritation. “I don’t know why you would think that. We’ve never hung out.” It had only been about a week, but nothing changed between them. They still felt like strangers—even with the pickpocket they caught two days prior.

He downed another shot. “I’m surprised you agreed to come out tonight.”

“Well, you offered to pay.” Jeongguk toasted him, a playful glint in his eyes. “Figured I could just leave if I hated it.”

The music switched to some swirling pop song in English. Seokjin poured himself another shot.

“But you’re looking like the miserable one, so I’m not feeling too bad.”

Seokjin snorted, drank his shot. “How would you feel if you had to spend all day with a kid who hates you?”

“First of all,” Jeongguk snagged the bottle, poured Seokjin another shot, “I do exactly that. And I’m not a kid. I’m 21 years old.”

Sensing what he wanted, Seokjin slid the glass over to the man and let him continue.

Jeongguk tried to take it, choked and sprayed it across the bar, to Seokjin’s delight—

Seokjin snorted, drank his shot. “How would you feel if you had to spend all day with a kid who hates you?” He didn’t notice a thing, his tipsiness bouncing his mind around the room, Jeongguk’s thoughts an inaudible whisper.

“You think I hate you?” He laughed. “You really don’t know anything about me.”

“Tell me, then.” Seokjin waved the bartender over, ordered Jeongguk another of what he’d been drinking. “What am I missing? Why do you hate me so much?”

“You’re such an idiot.” Jeongguk grabbed the drink as soon as it was set in front of him. “You’ve been my idol since middle school.”

Jeonggk drank deeply, throat bobbing as he forced himself to down the alcohol, as if even while tipsy he could sense how little he would like the amount of honesty he shared.

“You’re still on my goddamn walls.” He set the glass down a little too hard. “I’ve been thinking more and more about tearing them down every night I go home, but I just can’t do it. You’re soulless, but I can’t.” Jeongguk stared at him, accusing, asking for the justice of a child. “Being a hero is just patrolling. Following rudimentary rules. Sucking your own dick when you stop a pickpocket, but there’s so many robberies and domestic assaults and things we missed—"

“You can’t be everywhere at once,” Seokjin cut him off, uncaring as he grew louder. “That’s not your fault. Being able to rewind ten minutes can’t get you everywhere, and if you overwork yourself, if you collapse, you’re just creating another person that needs to be saved.” He poured himself another shot, his hand shaking. “You’re an idiot. Do you think I want to save you?” Instead of drinking the shot, he reached between them, flicked Jeongguk’s forehead. “Do you think anyone wants to read about another hero working himself to death? Or put himself into a situation where he can’t help because he’s burnt out?”

Jeongguk’s eyes didn’t leave his. There was a youthful quality to his features, as much as the man might argue about being an adult. A softness to his bone structure that likely drew plenty of girls his way over the years.

“If you want to be stupid and go about this like you used to, Headquarters might try to arrest you.” He shrugged. “But, if you’re only a danger to yourself, they can’t hold you. Then you get hurt. Then you get in your head.”

“I got it,” Jeongguk huffed. “You’ve got it all figured out.” He drank.

Seokjin thought about repeating himself, but instead, he asked, “You said you were a fan?”

A rude belch met his words, and then—

“You said you were a fan?” He squinted as soon as he finished, feeling something akin to nausea.

“Yeah.” It sounded strangled; Jeongguk took a deep breath. “Ever since you started. The way you solved problems was just so smart.” His eyes flickered over Seokjin’s face, his expression poignant, suggesting that Seokjin should listen in, but he couldn’t before the moment ended.

“Being smart has annoyed you pretty badly all week.”

“It’s not being smart. It’s being useless.”

The words stung, and Seokjin said, “Then how would you do it?”

“I’d rewind and travel all over the city until I found something.”

“Then what if you found something small, but there’s something bigger going on?” Seokjin leaned in, their knees brushing. “Are you going to abandon the smaller guy? What right do you have to pick who needs help?”

Jeongguk’s lips parted. Seconds ticked past. “I…”

“You can’t save everyone. Better to realize that now.”

Silence. “Are you thinking of Oversight?”

He seemed to realize his mistake. Seokjin didn’t know when he stood up, but the shock and grief rolled through him, sobering him up—

“Then what if you find something small, but there’s something bigger going on?” Seokjin leaned in, their knees brushing. “Are you going to abandon the smaller guy? What right do you have to pick who needs help?”

Sickness built in Seokjin, focus slipping away from Jeongguk, and his thoughts whirled, nonsensical to him as he attempted to piece together the confusion.

“It’s better than wasting time.” Jeongguk snapped, and he understood.

“You rewound when you brought up Oversight.” Seokjin kept it a secret when he noticed Jeongguk do it in the past, but this time, his looser tongue refused to play nice. “How dare you?”

Thunderstruck, Jeongguk tried to protest, but his thoughts gave him away, revealing the reality that he unwound to avoid a faux pas with a man he claimed to be his hero.

“If I was really your hero, why would you bring that up?” He shouted, the bartender staring at him. “Are you that cruel, or does it really matter that much to be right?”

Bigger men hustled over, likely going to escort them out and threaten to call the police—

 “You said you were a fan?” Before he could read the situation again, Jeongguk rose from his seat, his legs buckling as he steadied himself on the floor.

His lips pinched together, and he looked like he was about to cry. All other thoughts flew from Seokjin’s head as he followed him, hands finding Jeongguk’s forearms, and he asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“You can read my thoughts.” He said, voice strained. “You know everything. No matter what I do, you know. I can’t fix anything.” Then, to Seokjin’s momentary confusion, tears slid down his cheeks.

He read his thoughts, followed the conversation. But, in the presence of tears, the anger at the mention of Namjoon’s superhero alias did not arise. Instead, he hugged Jeongguk, clasping him tight.

“Now you know what it’s like to be a normal man,” he said.

There was no indication Jeongguk heard him through his grief.

Seokjin called a taxi, tried to separate the man from him, but Jeongguk refused to let go, just blubbering further into his chest. It was the kind of drunken crying where reading his thoughts did nothing to help Seokjin, with only flashes of disappointment rising to the surface before they were swept away.

Leaving him wasn’t an option. So, Seokjin did the least sensible thing and brought him back to his own apartment.

The cab driver, noting their embrace, didn’t ask if Jeongguk was okay and drove them to the proper location with the usual enthusiasm and skill one could expect.

Jeongguk’s crying tapered off into sniffles about ten minutes into the ride. Seokjin started rubbing his back at one point, and their awkward embrace never felt as such. It seemed as if they were seeing each other for the first time, and neither dared to break the atmosphere.

When they arrived in the rather run-down section of town, Seokjin paid the cabbie and guided Jeongguk into the building, unlocking the door. Jeongguk’s gaze hovered somewhere between infinity and nowhere as Seokjin led him to his apartment. Seokjin felt like he had no reason to drag him back, so he let him float.

Not like Taehyung got the memo, though.

“How did it go?” He exclaimed as soon as the door opened. When he caught sight of Jeongguk, his mouth fell open. “That well? Wow, hyung.”

Jeongguk blinked rapidly. “Who? You?” It was almost a sentence, but Seokjin could feel the nausea building in the man, so he focused on other things.

“Tae, come help me,” he ordered, thankful when his friend rose from their couch and hustled over. “He’s probably going to throw up soon. Help me get him into my room.”

Your room? Why not just leave him on the couch? Taehyung raised his eyebrows, ensuring Seokjin knew he thought that at him deliberately. But, Seokjin didn’t answer.

They carried him into Seokjin’s room, Jeongguk muttering something about “friends,” but they both ignored him, Taehyung huffing and puffing until they lowered him onto his side.

“Figures I should have kept Jimin around.” Taehyung grumbled. “He could have done it all himself.”

Taehyung left to fetch a garbage can, and Jeongguk whined once he was on the bed. Again, his words were little more than babble, but his thoughts said hot, sick, hot.

The garbage can arrived in time for him to vomit into it, and Taehyung wrinkled his nose. “I see what you mean about him being self-destructive.”

It had been a long night, but Seokjin found himself laughing, shaking his head as he said, “He’ll need a bottle of water and some Advil for the morning.”

“Well, I’ve tolerated my maximum amount of vomit for the evening. Should I get the blankets out for the couch?”

Seokjin shot him a grateful glance. “Yes. Please.”

They shuffled around the little apartment, wincing every time they heard Jeongguk retching from the bedroom. By the time Taehyung retired for the night, they could hear occasional, little whimpers from the room betraying that Jeongguk hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“You gonna be okay?” Taehyung asked, posed at his own door.

“I’ll be fine. I might check on him one more time though.”

“Suit yourself.” Taehyung patted his arm, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Don’t get vomit in your socks.”

“You’re disgusting.” Seokjin swatted at him, then moved toward his own room as Taehyung disappeared into his.

Breathing evened out as he entered the room, the familiar drapes and posters on the walls unfamiliar, as if the eyes of his favorite actors were also focused on the new feature of his room. It wasn’t like he never brought hookups home before, but thinking of Jeongguk that way felt wrong, like he would be taking advantage.

Besides, he didn’t think of him like that.

His eyes adjusted to the dark, and he realized Jeongguk had twisted free from most of his clothes.

He’d curled up at the head of Seokjin’s bed, hair loose and wavy around his face, his expression bunched up with agony. His eyes flickered open as Seokjin whispered, “You should probably pull the blanket out from under you.”

“No. Can’t move.”

“Here.” Knowing he would regret it, Seokjin retrieved their spare blanket from the living room and returned, shutting his door behind him. “We’re going to share, okay? No vomiting on me.”

Jeongguk mumbled what sounded like an agreement, and Seokjin shuffled onto the bed, lugging the heavy knit blanket with him. He laid it over both of them, curling up so it only covered Jeongguk’s waist. He could pull it up once the cold prodded at his upper chest, but for now, it wouldn’t overheat him too much.

The messiness of the night should have kept his thoughts spinning, but he found his gaze flickering within a few minutes. The warmth of the body beside him was almost intoxicating, his thoughts their own brush of southern comfort.

Seokjin didn’t even know he was falling until he was asleep.

He awoke a few hours later, the alcohol weighing on his bladder, but when he wrenched his eyes open, he found a body twined around his, one leg thrown over his, a head resting on his chest.

Heat that he didn’t understand flared through him, sleep clinging to his thoughts. In sleep, humans became blank slates, their thoughts a tangle of dreams, indecipherable to him. Nighttime was often the most peaceful, and Seokjin’s body relaxed in turn. He hated the thought of waking the man, but he tugged himself free to go pee.

Jeongguk didn’t stir.

When he returned, he slipped beneath the covers on his side of the bed again until morning. Once the light pulled him from slumber again, he noticed Jeongguk’s near nudity, his boxers lower on his hips, the shapeliness almost uncouth. His eyelashes were long and dark against his cheeks, his waist thin, the epitome of softness until he considered Jeongguk’s chest and arms.

Worse than earlier that morning, Jeongguk clung to him like a needy baby, the hand of the arm pinning Seokjin clenching in the bedsheets. Again, one of his legs wormed its way between Seokjin’s.

Seokjin swallowed, the sensation of Jeongguk’s breath palpable even thought his shirt. By contrast, the messy head of hair and subtle curve of him, deferring to Seokjin in his sleep, spoke of gentleness cultivated by the strength of the rest of his body.

He wanted to ask Jeongguk about it.

But, he knew to maintain the mutual respect, he should wake Jeongguk so he’d have a chance to cover himself and preserve some dignity.

“Jeongguk,” he murmured, hands rising to touch his shoulder and arm.

When he repeated his name, Jeongguk grumbled and his brows furrowed.

“Jeongguk.”

Nothing. The warmth Seokjin felt bled into annoyance, and he shook the man, using the pinned leg to flip the younger man onto his back.

“What?” He slurred. “What?”

Seokjin shook his head over his own bout of fondness. “You’re a clingy drunk.” He rose from the bed, moved to gather his things. “I’m showering first.”

By the time he exited, clad in a loose pair of sweats and a white t-shirt, Jeongguk had sat up and plugged his phone into Seokjin’s charger. A slight pout rested on his lips, but he hadn’t rewound anything, so it must not have upset him that badly.

“Shower’s yours, if you want it before you leave,” Seokjin said, sparing him a glance before snagging his own phone.

He sensed Jeongguk’s eyes on him but didn’t give into the pressure, expecting a confrontation that wound up not happening.

Jeongguk rose from his bed, the heat of his gaze growing more intense, before he skirted past Seokjin to make use of the shower himself.

Seokjin dressed in civilian’s clothes, sensing neither of them would be fit for patrolling, and detoured into the kitchen to find some breakfast.

Taehyung was gone, probably at work, but several texts blinked on Seokjin’s phone when he’d woken up, teasing him about the couch being empty in the morning. Seokjin didn’t reply, but he knew his roommate would demand something from him come night. It would be easy to explain, but something about the situation didn’t feel easy.

Plugging in his rice cooker, he set about making them a hearty breakfast—or, at least, rice for the potentially hungover Jeongguk. The scent of his spicy stew set his stomach growling, and he wouldn’t cry if he got to save half of it for later.

Seokjin whistled as he cooked, and when the stew was almost done, the rice sitting ready in the cooker, a rumpled Jeongguk in last night’s clothes slunk into the room.

Should I leave? Sneaking out the front door would be easy, but that’s also stupid. It’s not like I’ll never see him again. Not like we did anything.

A wash of disappointment flooded through Jeongguk, and Seokjin stirred the broth too hard, the boiling liquid splashing his hand.

Yelping, he snatched his hand back with a hiss of annoyance—

A rumpled Jeongguk in last night’s clothes slunk into the room, and he called gently, “Hyung, be careful. You burned yourself last time.”

The familiar “hyung” sliced through him, but Seokjin rested his spoon against the side of the pot gently, thoughts whirling.

He turned around. “Thanks. You don’t have to rewind for me, though. I can deal with my own mistakes.”

Jeongguk snorted and took a seat at the battered kitchen table, a fixture that came with the apartment. “Why say ‘thank you’ if you’re just going to blow me off?”

“Why call me ‘hyung’ and make no attempts to get close to me?” He fired back.

Shouldn’t have called you hyung. Seokjin struggled not to flinch as he served them both stew. I’m so stupid. The wash of self-loathing took him by surprise, and he outed himself.

“You told me last night you were my fan, right? Did I disappoint you?”

Jeongguk flinched, his features paling as he stared into the steam of his breakfast. “I…”

“It’s amazing how tongue-tied you get when you can’t rewind,” Seokjin said, sliding a little bowl of rice to him.

“I could still rewind,” he snapped.

“You could, but I’d see what you’ve done in your thoughts.”

He watched the color leech from Jeongguk cheeks. “I thought I remembered that from last night.”

“Yeah. I get it from your thoughts. It gives me a headache.”

Jeongguk looked like he would faint, so Seokjin tapped the side of his bowl with his chopsticks. “Eat. I promise it’s good.”

The younger man said nothing, and Seokjin let him eat in silence, wincing a bit at his pointed thoughts. He considered correcting him, when Jeongguk surprised him.

It doesn’t matter. You’re probably listening right now, aren’t you, Seokjin?

“That’s hyung to you,” he said automatically, ignoring the dark scowl Jeongguk sent his way.

How am I supposed to have any privacy? How do you have any friends?

The words, thought at him before, did not make him wince. “Because they got used to it. And when you’re in the field, it can be handy to communicate without speaking.”

There’s no privacy.

“When you’re close, people adapt.” He paused, swallowing. “That’s why I don’t bring it up, and why I didn’t tell you I could see your rewinds. I thought you would be happier not knowing, since you hadn’t already guessed.”

Jeongguk didn’t know whether to feel insulted or not, so instead he focused on his food, eating the rice in small bites as the color settled back into his cheeks.

“Are we destined not to be friends?” Seokiin mused, once he began cleaning up their breakfast.

It was a rhetorical question, light with his expectation that it would not be answered, but Jeongguk replied.

“It sure feels that way, hyung.”

“Why not?”

“You’re—” Annoying, impossible, stupidly handsome. “We don’t see eye-to-eye.”

“Are you making it harder to be your friend because you think I look good in latex?” Seokjin asked, blunt.

“No!” Jeongguk jumped from the table, cheeks and ears blazing red. “That’s stupid. If I wanted to sleep with you, I’d be all over you, don’t you think?”

“Or maybe you’re shy.” Seokjin raised his voice to be heard over the clinking dishes. “Or—maybe I was never your favorite from the Dragons, and you feel like you’re cheating?”

Despite his power, that had been a wild guess, but Jeongguk recoiled, anger and hurt twin in his mind, and he said with the betrayed, high-pitched tone of a boy, “Don’t.”

In that moment, Seokjin saw the images of himself, adored by this boy who could rewind time. It startled him, as did the wave of pity that accompanied it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’d better go,” Jeongguk said.

***

That night, alone with Taehyung, he told him about Jeongguk’s interest.

 “It’s got to be hard. What are the odds he gets his idol sent after him?” Taehyung sniffled, their living room badly in need of a dusting. “Metacognition is literally between you two.”

And so it was; when Seokjin retired to his room with a beer, he thought back on their encounters, and aside from the initial meeting, Jeongguk seemed to be looking for something in him that he could not find. Compared to what Metacognition did for the public, Seokjin was a coward. Someone who would rather spend his time considering his actions and losing the chance to actually help anyone.

“Maybe I’m the wrong hero for him,” he said to himself, before going to fetch another beer.

Chapter Text

The next day they congregated, decked out in full superhero regalia, Seokjin had an inkling of a terrible idea that might work.

It didn’t help that they encountered a building on fire, and Seokjin and Jeongguk played search and rescue from the outside. Arguably, it just encouraged him, as he kept thinking how one person’s power in particular would make this so much easier. As is, the firefighters fought against allowing him and Jeongguk into the building for fear of them becoming incapacitated.

They managed to convince them, and Jeongguk rewound time over and over until Seokjin could pinpoint each person trapped inside. The firefighters did their best to evacuate, but as they learned afterward, Seokjin couldn’t hear the thoughts of pets.

Most people cried with relief when their babies or children were removed, these parents who stepped out for a minute or had been knocked unconscious before the rescuers came up. But, Seokjin couldn’t look away from one old woman, her thoughts defeated and heartbroken when there were no cats brought out.

“She might have escaped, Mrs. Lee,” one of the firefighters reassured her. “Cats are smart.”

Not like dogs, and by the time Seokjin heard one little boy asking where their dog was, he couldn’t stand there any longer.

“I’ve done about all I can,” he said to the head firefighter. “I’ll get out of your way.”

He walked away before he thought about Jeongguk, remembering only from the harried footsteps that chased his own.

“You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’m exhausted.” The weariness snapped Seokjin out of his funk, and he glanced over at the Jeongguk.

His shoulders slumped, body curling inward, a sheen of sweat glossy around his neck. Seokjin kicked himself for not noticing sooner and forcing Jeongguk to rest.

“Here, we need to sit,” he began, but Jeongguk cut him off.

“Not in full costume.”

They found the alleyway they stashed their street clothes in, both stumbling by the time they dressed, Jeongguk too tired to even glance in Seokjin’s direction.

Once they settled their shirts, Seokjin asked, “How opposed would you be to a long bus ride?”

“Not terribly if you let me sleep.”

Jeongguk looked at him through his bangs as he tied his shoes. A strange pang passed through Seokjin, but he ignored it.

“Awesome. Let’s get going, then.”

***

Seokjin questioned his decision the whole bumping, meandering ride out of town, his heart doing that annoying clench again when the ride brought Jeongguk’s sleeping head onto his shoulder.

Unnerved, he cast toward Jeongguk’s thoughts, wondering if the potholes woke him, but Seokjin’s power bounced off the shell of unconsciousness. He wished he could sleep, but the anxiety of this move, the pure stupidity of it, felt like acid in his stomach. It was a bad idea; the text he sent Taehyung told him as much, but his roommate’s coded “be careful” didn’t try to dissuade him.

They rode out of the city, down into a little subset farming town that didn’t have a subway stop, the fields slashes of fire under the setting sun. The area felt melancholy to Seokjin, but he was biased. The little old women tottering around the roads seemed fierce and so far away from the industrial isolation of the city that Seokjin thought it might just be him.

When their stop drew near, Seokjin nudged Jeongguk, neither saying anything as he mumbled and lifted his head from Seokjin’s shoulder.

He smacked his lips, slurring as he asked, “Where are we?”

“Visiting a friend.” Seokjin rubbed his arm, affectionate at the sight of Jeongguk’s bleary eyes and mussed hair.

Jeongguk let it pass, and they descended from the bus onto the sidewalk, the smells of fertilizer and kimchi in the air.

On cue, Seokjin’s stomach growled, but when Jeongguk asked if they should stop for dinner first, he shook his head.

“We need to get there before dark.”

It sounded ominous, but he didn’t have the heart to explain why.

He led Jeongguk down the street, then turned them down an alley, following a path he’d traced so many times on online map services, twice in person.

The houses crowded close together, clinking and the screeches of babies filling the humid night’s air. Jeongguk kept shooting glances at him despite keeping his eyes on the uneven road, as if the coldness emanating from Seokjin could be felt. Part of him wanted to apologize and turn them around, but he felt like Jeongguk needed this. Maybe this could break that wall between them. He didn’t allow himself to think of anything else, for fear of what it might also break.

Reaching a house on the near outskirts of town, a small garden plot just visible from an angle behind it, he exhaled and leaned up to knock on the front door.

Nothing. He knocked again.

Something heavy fell from within, and Seokjin fought not to cast his senses out for the mind he would find inside. Yet, the harder he fought, the more aware of the sensations he became, feeling Jeongguk’s unease, as if he could sense what was coming.

The door cracked open, revealing a face Seokjin hadn’t seen in two years.

“Hyung?” Hoseok choked on the word, his eyes impossibly wide, not acknowledging Jeongguk even as he spared a look for him.

Is it him? Need to check—

Seokjin presented his palm for Hoseok, his touch quick and purposeful as he felt for the nearly inviable scar that shadowed Seokjin’s heart line.

“It’s really you.” Can you hear me? Hoseok’s thoughts swam in his mind.

“Of course I can,” Seokjin returned, the familiar fingers of Hoseok’s mind sending a pang of regret and pain through him that he did not want to feel.

Before Hoseok could psychoanalyze him too much, Jeongguk broke the heavy air between them.

“You’re Duplication, aren’t you?”

Hoseok’s lips tightened, unprepared for Jeongguk to be someone he had to contend with, when a husky voice called from inside, “Seok, who are you talking to?”

This would be worse than seeing Hoseok.

“Me, Yoongi,” he called even so.

Stillness pervaded the house. After standing there for a few moments, the scent of cleanser wafted out, harsh and heavy. Seokjin examined the bandanna holding Hoseok’s bangs off his forehead and began to understand why Hoseok was here.

Lurching footsteps started toward them, heavy and significant, but when Yoongi threw himself at Seokjin, fire dancing around his knuckles, it was clumsy and off balance.

“You,” he spat, but Seokjin heard only pain, no anger.

Jeongguk did not, however, and time rewound itself like a spool, with Jeongguk grabbing Seokjin’s arm, features drawn as Yoongi again asked who “Seok” was talking to.

“Don’t answer him,” Jeongguk said. “He’ll hurt you.”

Seokjin searched Jeongguk’s thoughts and sighed. “He won’t.” And so the events replayed themselves, with Seokjin warning Jeongguk not to unwind.

Yoongi smacked Seokjin’s chest, but the fire never touched him, as he knew it wouldn’t. The fire, when reacting unconsciously, could never hurt him or Hoseok, or Namjoon.

“You bastard,” he spat. “Piece of shit, no good—”

Seokjin let him rage, as did Hoseok, who slumped, resigned, against the door frame. Only Jeongguk looked uncertain, the paleness of his shock illuminated in the last dregs of the setting sun.

When the fire left Yoongi, he stepped back, a much more sober cast to his expression.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Seokjin offered him a sad smile. “Would you believe me if I said I need your help?”

“No.” Yoongi’s eyes cut over to Jeongguk. “Who’s he?”

Jeongguk didn’t react. Seokjin said, “This is my current partner.”

At the wave of embarrassment he could feel coming from Jeongguk, he clarified, “He’s a rookie hero, and I’m trying to make sure he doesn’t accidentally kill himself.”

Hoseok thought he’d meant 'boyfriend,' too, but Yoongi didn’t seem to care enough to have an opinion.

“So, why are you here?” Hoseok asked after it became clear that Yoongi wouldn’t say anything else.

“I told you, I need help. Can we come in?”

Piece of shit doesn’t call since Joon died turn up now so selfish. Yoongi’s thoughts seethed in barely intelligible lines. Yet, he jerked his head to the side in a gesture of invitation. “Since you came all this way.”

Seokjin ignored the derision and squeezed past his old friend. The discolored wood of the house loomed above the entryway, and he kicked off his shoes before stepping up, trying not to make his curiosity too evident.

Living room furniture was pushed back against the walls, a broom propped against the table, grocery bags on top. It looked the picture of a filial son taking care of his elderly parents.

“Sit, sit,” Hoseok urged once they all entered. His thoughts considered asking if they wanted water, but in that moment, Seokjin saw that this house was just Yoongi’s, not theirs.

Yoongi sank down into a worn armchair without a word, his eyes glittering in the dim room like a cat’s. Even if the home didn’t belong to Hoseok, Yoongi let him dictate.

Seokjin took an end spot on the couch, the cushion deflating as he sat. Jeongguk sat next to him, their thighs brushing, and for once, his thoughts were too tangled for Seokjin to decipher without focusing.

Hoseok remained standing.

“So, you need help,” Yoongi said. “I told you that years ago.”

Jeongguk laughed; then, once he realized no one else did—

“So, you need help,” Yoongi said. “I told you that years ago.”

Seokjin glared at his companion. “Jeongguk, please. You’re going to make me sick.”

“Sorry, hyung.”

Yoongi didn’t rise to the bait, but Hoseok cast a curious glance between the guests, then asked, “So, who are you, and what’s your deal?”

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk,” he introduced himself, looking a bit starstruck when Hoseok addressed him. “I can rewind time.”

When Yoongi and Hoseok straightened in their chairs, a hungry look passing over their features, Seokjin clarified:

“He can only do ten minutes into the past from the current moment.”

Jeongguk cast him a hurt look, but Seokjin couldn’t let his old friends think he’d brought Jeongguk to them like a sacrificial lamb.

Hoseok and Yoongi wilted as soon as the meaning of his words sank in, and the light that briefly pierced through the latter waned.

“The problem is, he’s been getting hurt a lot,” Seokjin continued, not wanting to acknowledge their pain.

Yoongi rose halfway through his recantations of how Jeongguk hurt himself, wandering into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of beer. Hoseok shot him a disapproving frown, but Yoongi didn’t react. It sent an unpleasant flicker through the room, Hoseok’s thoughts unhappy:

He’d better not do that now, it would crush Seokjin.

Meanwhile, Yoongi:

Fucking Seokjin rolling up here when he needs something stupid fucking Seokjin.

He cut off halfway through. Expecting scorn and having it lobbed at your subconscious were two different experiences, and Seokjin could only stare at Yoongi, knowing what he must look like.

“Hyung?” Jeongguk asked.

Poor kid was the solitary person in the room who didn’t know what was going on.

All three men looked at him, and the onslaught of attention made him blush.

“He was a fan of ours,” Seokjin said.

Overt pain flickered over Hoseok’s expression, while Yoongi flinched.

“S-Sorry,” Jeongguk muttered.

“So, that’s why you picked him up?” Yoongi ignored Jeongguk, speaking to Seokjin. “I never remember you being such a groupie chaser.”

Seokjin stared at him, weighing staying calm against what he really wanted to say. It might change the way Jeongguk looked at him, but he knew which would elicit the response he wanted from Yoongi.

“What is wrong with you?” He asked. “The kid didn’t do anything but come here with me.”

All three knew that was the real problem, but Yoongi needed the permission to begin his onslaught.

“Yeah, came here with you two years after Joon’s funeral. Which is, coincidentally, the last time I’ve seen you.”

He cares more about being a hero than anything else. Yoongi knew better than to say that aloud, but his thoughts cut through Seokjin.

“I’ve been keeping my eyes out,” he said, despite knowing it was the wrong thing.

“He’s dead, Seokjin,” Yoongi yelled. “You looking is a fucking insult. We buried him, it’s supposed to be behind us.”

“And this is why I didn’t visit.”

Jeongguk’s gaze swung between them like he was watching a tennis match, his pretty eyes large with alarm.

“I don’t get it,” he said, when it seemed no one else would breach the silence. “Seokjin hyung, were you supposed to retire?”

“It feels like it sometimes,” Seokjin let out a humorless laugh. “No; it’s not because I’m a hero. It’s because I never accepted that Namjoon was dead.”

Flames licked around Yoongi’s arms, darting down toward the chair before dying, a telltale sign of his rising pain. Anger was one thing—he’d learned how to control his fire when angry years ago, but grief was too new. He’d sent a whole row of flowers up in smoke at the funeral.

“We looked for him for months, but after the first 72 hours, the odds of a person being recovered alive drops substantially,” Seokjin spoke robotically, seeing the statistics he’d poured over when he couldn’t sleep. “The three of us looked for about two months before his older sister put her foot down. She wanted to be able to say goodbye.”

Twin minds matched his anger with this injustice. None of them wanted to give up, no matter how futile.

“So, we had the funeral. Never recovered a body, but we had to speak over his urn like it was definitive.”

“Some of us have accepted it,” Yoongi said, voice rough. “And some of us are living in a fairytale.”

“Why was there never a body?” Seokjin burst out. He’d forgotten about Jeongguk’s presence, too insistent on reliving this old argument. “You know villains. They gloat. If they’d killed him, they would have done something.”

“He was dragged into the harbor,” Hoseok said, speaking up for the first time in a long time. “He could have been swept out to sea, and bodies don’t last very well in water. We don’t even know where his last spot seen alive was. But, does any of that matter right now?” He flapped his arms, gesturing to the little, run-down house. “Look at us.”

“You don’t have to stay here,” Yoongi grumbled, but his tone had softened.

Hoseok didn’t dignify that with a response.

 “I’m sorry,” Jeongguk said after a beat. “He was my hero, too.”

They all froze, staring at Jeongguk, who met each of their gazes without fear. His earnestness cut through them, the fire on Yoongi’s knuckles flaring, then extinguishing itself.

Hoseok let out a soft sob, a hand pressing to his mouth, before he began gasping, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, and he looked years younger. It sent a pang of pain through Seokjin, and that propelled him over to Hoseok’s side.

“Hey,” he murmured, resting a hand on Hoseok’s arm.

Said man looked at him, his eyes glassy, cheeks red and puffy. Hoseok, damn him, was a person who never thought things he wouldn’t say aloud, and he hadn’t changed in two years.

“I missed you,” he said.

“Me too, Seok.”

They embraced, the tears continuing to slide down Hoseok’s cheeks, down his chin, onto Seokjin’s chest. Emotion choked Seokjin as well, but the layers of numbed pain congested, not letting the tears out.

“I’m sorry I was too much of a coward to visit.”

He held Hoseok for a few more minutes, hearing the conversation whispered between Yoongi and Jeongguk, his weakened constitution ripping him in four directions.

“You were a fan?” Yoongi asked, voice rough, like he’d been suppressing his own tears. “How young are you?”

“I’m twenty-one,” Jeongguk replied. “Not so young. You’re only four years older than me.”

Yoongi laughed, the sound rusty, like he didn’t do it much.

“We haven’t been properly introduced, have we? I’m Min Yoongi. You know me as Wildfire, right?”

“Yeah.” His voice went breathy. “Well, first as Caesar, then as KC—”

“Shit. Jin wasn’t kidding. You’re a fanboy.”

“You’re the ones who inspired me. All of you. Even Seokjin hyung.”

At that, Seokjin rotated his and Hoseok’s conjoined bodies, snapping, “This isn’t an excuse to be a brat.”

Yoongi ignored Seokjin and asked Jeongguk, “So, you can rewind time? How does that work?”

He sounded interested, and Jeongguk launched into it, telling him all the intricacies that Seokjin learned on the job or in practice.

Meanwhile, Seokjin turned to Hoseok and said, “Should we get everyone tea or something?”

“That sounds nice,” he hiccupped, trying to stabilize his voice and failing.

They detoured into Yoongi’s kitchen, the rough tile scratching at their feet, and dried some recently washed mugs to heat water in the microwave. When they emerged with a dirty sugar bowl and four steeping mugs of tea, Yoongi had abandoned his bottle of beer on the floor. He had shifted to sit beside Jeongguk on the couch, a light in his eyes as they talked about the Dragons’ famous battle against Disgraced.

“It was only a matter of time before someone obsessed with Disney became a villain,” Yoongi said. “Nothing ever seemed as nefarious as those five-year-olds who already have their lives planned. That fucks people up.”

Jeongguk giggled like Yoongi said something brilliant, and even though Seokjin rolled his eyes for Hoseok’s sake, warmth rolled in his stomach, sweeping out some of the numbness.

Seokjin put thoughts of business aside as they drank their tea, letting Yoongi and Hoseok talk to Jeongguk, who blossomed under the dual attention from two of his idols.

They talked until late, and then Yoongi looked around, sluggish with the remains of a second cup of tea in hand.

“I’m not sure I have enough room for everyone.”

“You have a bed big enough for two,” Hoseok corrected. “We can share and Jin hyung can share with Jeongguk.”

Everyone stiffened at this designation, but Hoseok announced, “Get up. We have to make up the sofa bed. We’re not animals.”

This prompted a second hustle, Jeongguk following Hoseok to clean up the tea while Yoongi and Seokjin, the air tense between them as they collected bedding for the couch.

“I’d say I can’t believe you turned up here without a text, but it’s you,” Yoongi muttered as they tugged the fitted sheet over the mattress.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

No forgiveness was offered that night, but Yoongi clapped him on the shoulder before retiring. He didn’t cast him a last look, but Seokjin knew in that moment their journey there wouldn’t be in vain.

Once they settled, he found himself lying beside Jeongguk in the dark, the sofa bed not quite big enough to prevent their arms from brushing.

Seokjin thought Jeongguk might drop off to sleep after their exhausting day, but he rolled onto his side, eyes glittering in the dark. They were so far out in the country no light pollution touched them through the window, but Seokjin could just make out Jeongguk’s silhouette.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“You never gave up on him.”

It didn’t sound like a question. Seokjin laughed, the slightest fingers of sadness brushing him.

“You sound surprised.”

“I—” Jeongguk’s voice squeaked, but he didn’t rewind. “I don’t know.”

“He was my hero, too,” Seokjin said.

He closed his eyes, feeling the emotional exhaustion he’d been ignoring crash over him.

“You’re forgetting,” Jeongguk said. “You were always my favorite.”

For the first time since their rooftop meeting, the awe was back in Jeongguk’s voice.

Seokjin opened his eyes again, just as Jeongguk’s fingertips glided over his arm.

Jeongguk seemed to struggle with his next words, but his thoughts filled Seokjin.

The only one— I can’t believe I never knew— Duplication and Wildfire gave up, but he never did.

Then came this overwhelming pride.

“I do my best,” Seokjin whispered.

The hand on his arm stilled, and the thought of Jeongguk pulling away killed him.

“Hold still,” Seokjin said.

Jeongguk obeyed, and Seokjin rolled onto his side so their bodies aligned, legs and chests almost brushing, their body heat mingling. It felt strangely intimate, and that held Seokjin in place. He looked into Jeongguk’s eyes, seeing the confidence and trust. Only then did he drape his arm over Jeongguk’s waist.

“Is this alright?”

Considering him, Jeongguk’s eyes scanned his face, as if he could read Seokjin’s thoughts.

“Yes.”

No other words passed between them that night, and despite Jeongguk bullying him onto the metal bar, Seokjin hadn’t slept so well in years.

***

Seokjin didn’t get the chance to regret this in the morning, as Hoseok woke them by bursting into the living room and banging two pots together.

He shot up, slurring through words that made no sense, and Jeongguk did one better, catapulting off the bed and knocking one pot from Hoseok’s hand.

Hoseok dodged back, light on his feet, and another of him materialized with a hiss of smoke, the duplicate catching Jeongguk’s fists with a smug smile.

That more than the challenge stopped Jeongguk, his eyes going wide. He’d never seen Hoseok use his power in person.

“Woah.” He let his hands fall back to his sides. “Oh, Duplication, I’m so sorry.”

“Told you, you can call me Hoseok. Or hyung,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “Maybe if I put the costume on, you could call me that, but no use blowing my non-existent cover.”

“When’s the last time you’ve moved like that?” Seokjin asked.

“Too long.”

Taking the second pot from his copy, who then disappeared into smoke again, Hoseok nodded to Jeongguk.

“Figured you might want breakfast before we go out.”

At the tune of food, Jeongguk’s fascination swung to pure hunger, and he followed Hoseok into the kitchen without washing up.

They ate then showered, Yoongi meeting them in the reverse order, Seokjin and Jeongguk’s hair dripping as Yoongi shoveled breakfast into his mouth.

“How do you have a bigger appetite than the twenty-one-year-old?”

“Shut up,” Yoongi said through a mouthful.

“Should we bring our suits?” Jeongguk asked.

Hoseok and Yoongi flinched, with Hoseok saying, “No; where we’re going, we won’t need them.”

They grabbed their coats, Jeongguk’s his usual trench coat, and Yoongi picked up a cluster of keys hanging by the front door. Seokjin might not have his own car to visit, but in the countryside, Yoongi couldn’t get around without a car.

He drove them first to get gas, and then up toward the nearest mountain. They would park in the visitor’s lot and then find a nice, secluded glen for their work, like their team used to do when they wouldn’t want to practice at HQ.

Despite Jeongguk’s excitement, no one spoke much in the car, the radio filling the empty air. This car could fit five people, four comfortably, but their normal fourth had been replaced. It wasn’t Jeongguk’s fault, but only Seokjin could look at him.

When they arrived, the air lightened, allowing conversation to pass again. Chatter disturbed the wildlife as they trekked up the mountain, passing other hikers in spurts.

The path to the clearing, when they found it, was still marked with brutal scorch marks on an old oak tree. As usual, Seokjin cast a cutting glance at Yoongi, who labeled it years ago without killing the tree. Namjoon would lay into him every time they came, and Seokjin would silently judge them while Hoseok snickered. Aside from that, there was no “path” – none more than one an animal would take.

Yoongi always complained about the plants that would snare his clothes, and this time was no different.

“You should have let me burn a path while we were at it.”

“And then picnickers would be camped in our cleaning,” Seokjin retorted.

He worried Yoongi wouldn’t deign him with a reply, but he snapped back, and they went at it until the brush cleared, revealing a leveled area manned mostly by tall, waving grass and a few sparse bushes.

It was at this moment Jeongguk thought to ask, “Wait. I know how to control my power. What’s the point—”

But he hadn’t noticed Seokjin and Hoseok stepping away from him, leaving him open and vulnerable to the most offensive member of their team.

Yoongi pivoted, wound his arm back, and hurled a column of fire at Jeongguk, who reacted faster than Seokjin thought Yoongi wanted.

They pushed through the last cumbersome branches of a large bush, Yoongi at the head, and then Jeongguk went barreling past them. Seokjin barely had time to scan his thoughts before Yoongi wheeled around at the heavy sound of Jeongguk’s boots.

Jeongguk swung a kick at Yoongi, who blocked with his forearm, grunting.

Jumping back, Yoongi grinned at him, eyes glittering.

“You’ve had hand-to-hand training.”

Jeongguk shrugged, rolling his shoulders back.

“I don’t have to know too much when I can rewind. How did you know I was coming?”

“I’ve had this plan since last night. I knew once you started running that I’d made a strike at you and you were retaliating.”

Seokjin and Hoseok stepped into the clearing, a smug smile on the former’s lips.

“See, I had a theory about you,” Yoongi said. “When something goes south, you rewind the minimum amount of time to fix the situation. That leaves you vulnerable to people who know about your power. If you’d rewound about seven or eight minutes, you would have had a better chance of catching me off guard.”

Rapt, Jeongguk listened, countering with other ideas, but Yoongi dismantled them.

“If you’re telling me you’d think of those in the moment, then we’re done. Would you think of them in the moment?”

“No.”

Yoongi ran him through simulations, testing how his power stretched, how far ahead he could plan against a worthy adversary. He brought Hoseok in for the “dummies,” though Hoseok reminded him, playing annoyed, that he could still feel his duplicates’ pain.

So much of it was theoretical, but something in Jeongguk came alive as they ran through these encounters.

“One day, you’re going to face someone who’s out for you specifically.” Yoongi refused to look at his former teammates. “When that day comes, I want you six steps ahead of them.”

They trained through lunch, stopping only when Seokjin forced them to, as he could hear the group’s hunger.

As they trekked back down the mountain, Hoseok slowed his steps to match Seokjin’s.

“It’s good to see you, hyung.”

Seokjin smiled without looking at him. “Ditto.”

Yoongi hyung would never admit it, but he’s doing better now than he has in a long time.

“Not for my sake,” Seokjin said.

Maybe more for the kid. But he did miss you. He wouldn’t be so angry if he didn’t.

“So you say.”

Though as they sat down for lunch at a little restaurant, Yoongi didn’t bristle when Seokjin spoke or asked for his attention. He looked up, was less likely to reply, but he listened.

On their way out, Jeongguk asked, “How long are we staying?”

“Depends on Yoongi,” Seokjin said.

Not replying at first, Yoongi asked Seokjin, “You got money to spare for an outfit?”

Following his literal train of thought, Seokjin laughed. “I’ve been thinking about that myself.”

“Ugh. I forgot what being around you was like.”

Jeongguk flinched at Yoongi’s harsh words, but they held no barb Seokjin could hear.

“It’s disconcerting to have half-conversations,” Seokjin explained to Jeongguk. “Like when you get mad at me for reading your thoughts, but worse.”

“You’ve never done that with me?” Jeongguk frowned.

“Ah, no.”

Seokjin glanced away, unsure how to explain that it came with feeling comfortable. Like he wouldn’t overstep boundaries. Most people would prefer to pretend he couldn’t hear their thoughts.

“As long as it takes,” Yoongi said.

“What?”

“As long as this takes. You two can stay.”

Neither would ever acknowledge it, but Seokjin could hear the lonely, defeated notes in Yoongi’s voice without reading his thoughts.

***

Juxtaposed to that heavy thought, their drive into the city lifted their spirits, the windows of Yoongi’s little, functional Kia all down as he blasted music.

The feeling, like discovering an old, well-worn pair of sweatpants, fit Seokjin with all the startling warmth that he thought he’d forgotten. He could hear Hoseok spitting along with the rap music, singing in his gritty, uneven tone when pop songs intercut them. Yoongi’s voice added to the mix on certain songs, and Seokjin couldn’t help joining in.

By the time they reached HQ, their moods had been lifted, smiles lingering on each of their faces, even when Jeongguk realized where they brought him.

“Have you ever been inside?” Hoseok asked.

“No.”

As annoyed as Jeongguk tried to look, an expression of awe overtook him when they drove onto the sidewalk and the entire wall folded in.

Hoseok stepped on the gas, driving into the car elevator which sank them down into a parking garage hidden from the rest of the world.

They descended to sub-level 4, where Hoseok parked in the first open spot he saw. Once they exited and Hoseok found a marker pillar to remember it, Jeongguk finally thought to ask, “If we’re looking for clothing, why are we here?”

Yoongi smiled as they headed for the people-elevator. “Jin hyung told me you don’t have a real suit.”

Excitement bled from Jeongguk’s features, but he didn’t protest with Yoongi like he would have with Seokjin. That should have annoyed him, but as Seokjin groped for the emotion, he couldn’t find it.

Despite the years away, Yoongi punched the button for level 7 without hesitation. The ride took less than a minute, the elevator top-of-the-line, and they entered into a circular room with doors branching off in five directions.

Meeting with the designers gave Yoongi, Seokjin, and Hoseok their first brush with discomfort since their reunion. Instead of an intern, an old friend sat at the reception desk, pencil scratching against paper as she sketched.

Instead of waiting for her notice, Yoongi broke the silence.  “I would have thought you’d have an office by now.”

Her head shot up, lips falling open with shock.

“Min Yoongi!” She trilled. Her voice would be too loud, if not for her natural inability to raise it above a certain level. “That’s not really you. You hate me too much to come back into HQ just to see lil ol’ me.”

He rolled his eyes. “If I had the choice, this wouldn’t be happening. But this kid,” he jabbed a finger in Jeongguk’s direction, “dresses like a hipster to fight crime.”

Park Chaewon swung her focused gaze to the other members in the party, her perfectly plucked eyebrows up to her hairline.

“Well, gang’s all here.” Her eyes focused on Jeongguk, then narrowed. “Where do I know you from?”

“He’s the vigilante who can rewind time,” Seokjin said.

She snapped her manicured fingers, not tangling the long nails. “Exactly. Oh, honey, it’s about time. I actually have some sketches for him.”

Chaewon flipped about ten pages back, showing an elegant, faceless man in a scaled body suit, a coat that looked rather like his trenchcoat spread beside the figure.

“I have a couple options. See, this one is armored and can be colored any way you like. I contemplated keeping the coat as opposed to a utility belt, but it needs to be cut down the back so it doesn’t impede movement.”

Jeongguk stared in awe, cowed, as if he’d not understood the resources of HQ until that moment.

She pointed out the different ideas she’d sketched, but Jeongguk returned to the first drawing, admitting it looked pretty cool.

“Alright. Hyejoo,” she called.

A tall wisp of a girl rushed out from behind a screen, her brows pinched in what appeared to be distress.

“Yes, unnie?”

“I need you to measure this gentleman.” She gestured to Jeongguk.

Then, as Hyejoo moved to his side, asking him to remove his coat while ignoring his blush, Chaewon removed an enormous sketchpad from where it sat propped against the wall. She laid it flat against the floor and began by sketching a rough approximation of Jeongguk’s head.

Seokjin hadn’t seen her work since she designed his new suit after the collapse of his group, so he enjoyed watching her draw, her body tiny by comparison against the paper. Graphite smeared against her wrists and hands as Hyejoo called out the measurements. One of Chaewon’s gifts was that she could hear “84 centimeters” and be able to match that without a ruler.

It took the better part of an hour for her to draw the whole thing, and it would take even longer for her to color it, but they wouldn’t need to be there for that.

“What colors would you like for the suit?” She asked.

Jeongguk answered quickly, like he’d been waiting for it. “Sapphire blue, with a green cast in the light, and olive brown for the coat.”

Chaewon’s eyes shone with interest. “Alright. They’ll be ready by Thursday afternoon.” A short time compared to people who would have to fetch the materials and stitch them together by hand, but a decent wait for her.

“We’ll be back,” Yoongi promised.

“You still have an account with HQ?” Chaewon asked.

Jeongguk thought she meant him, but Yoongi nodded.

“Still attached to my bank account. You can withdraw like normal.”

“Sounds good. See you boys Thursday.”

Hyejoo bowed to them on their way out, the younger girl still looking flustered.

Thankfully, as Jeongguk still looked overwhelmed, that was their last stop. From there, they returned to the car and drove back to Yoongi’s house. No one said anything of consequence in the car, but the unease left long ago. If Seokjin closed his eyes, he could pretend Jeongguk sat beside him, with Namjoon against the rear right window.

Yoongi still didn’t talk to him through dinner, though his silence, as heard in his thoughts, felt more uncertain than wrathful. Seokjin understood and let him have his time.

Exhausted from the day, Jeongguk and he fell asleep too quickly that night to speak to each other, though Seokjin still slept astoundingly well.

The next day, Yoongi shocked Hoseok and Jeongguk by saying, “Well, today we find some crime.”

Even though Seokjin could hear his thoughts, he still didn’t know how much he believed Yoongi.

“Hyung,” Hoseok said, frowning, “what do you mean? We go in civilian clothes and coach Jeongguk?”

Everyone ignored Jeongguk’s offended “hey!” Yoongi cast Hoseok a careful look.

“No. I mean costumed.”

A jolt went through Seokjin and Hoseok. Yoongi hadn’t worn his costume since Namjoon had been captured. Until that moment, Seokjin hadn’t even been sure Yoongi kept his suit.

After the shock faded, excitement vibrated through Jeongguk, eclipsing Hoseok’s well of concern.

“Cute of you to assume me or Hoseok brought our suits with us here,” Seokjin said.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

Hoseok coughed, tried to protest, but the fact that he didn’t mention his suit only brought a strange smile to Yoongi’s lips.

“Let’s ride.”

***

Seokjin thanked his lucky stars that no one but Jeongguk left their rooms in their suits. He’d handled reuniting with his old teammates thus far but just the thought of seeing them in their costumes did something to his stomach. Like him, their costumes could hide under street clothes, so Seokjin caught glimpses, but nothing overwhelming.

Yoongi drove them into a poorer section of the city, and they parked their car at the police office’s precinct, a previous agreement HQ had with the police of the city.

They began their patrolling, and within the first hour, Seokjin overheard a car jacker. They were able to call the cops for that one, though, so the shoe didn’t drop until their police scanner alerted them to a domestic dispute that blasted most of the couple’s house to pieces.

Jumping back into Yoongi’s car, using Jeongguk’s rewind power to give them a little edge, though afraid to use it while in drive, they arrived at the reported address in no time. They undressed in the car, but Seokjin kept his gaze fixed out the window.

When they arrived at the scene, sirens could be heard as the upper floors of the house smoked. The woman, bent in half, her teeth gritted with pain, stared at the man as he barred access to the house.

“You’re with me,” Seokjin said to Jeongguk. “If I fuck this up, I need you to rewind.”

Jeongguk looked at him, startled, but that look slid into one of acceptance.

Seokjin and Jeongguk leapt out. He couldn’t get much from the man’s thoughts; the rage had overtaken anything intelligent, a slew of curses at the forefront. Seokjin would have to get him talking.

“Stay back!” The man called. He sounded angry, just the controlled side of hysterical.

Seokjin stopped. Yoongi and Hoseok had exited the car, leaving the doors open so the sound wouldn’t upset the man.

Dipping into the woman’s thoughts, he called, “Kim Jiwon, we’re here to help you.”

Knowing the man’s name startled him, and his thoughts shifted, revealing a key piece of information.

“You’re upset. But, isn’t the house in your name?” Seokjin kept his voice level. “Damaging it like this will only hurt you in the long run.”

Agitation spiked in his thoughts, but Jiwon said, “Who cares about the house?”

Movement rustled the curtains in the upstairs window, sending a flash of horror through Seokjin. Some pet or child was upstairs.

“Whatever conflict you’re having,” Seokjin said, “it isn’t worth destroying your whole life over, is it?”

The man shrugged. “Not my life anymore. Not my kids anymore.”

The woman gasped, the color draining from her face, and police cars screamed onto the scene, causing everyone to tense.

Any calming Seokjin did was lost in the moment as the man’s face flushed a darker red. Sparks crackled at his fingertips, and Seokjin spied them with a frown. If it had been fire, Yoongi could stop him a lot faster.

“Fine. You called the police? I’ll finish this.”

Jiwon pointed at the sky, dark clouds swirling and grumbling, and Seokjin didn’t wait, turning to Jeongguk.

“Rewind two minutes. Then we rush him.”

“Three. You need time to read my mind.”

Seokjin smiled at his quick thinking—

“Whatever conflict you’re having,” Seokjin said, “it isn’t worth destroying your life, right?”

Jiwon started to reply, but Jeongguk’s hand brushed his, calling his attention, and he snatched their plan out of Jeongguk’s head.

His lips pursed, and right before the sirens began, Jeongguk and he rushed the man, taking him off guard as they dogpiled him.

Yoongi, Hoseok, and the woman, Taeyeon, cried out in alarm, the latter because she expected her husband to fry them. Seokjin saw Jiwon’s power crackle through their bodies and did the only thing he could think: he detached his pepper spray from his belt and sprayed Jiwon in the face.

He screamed, focus dissolving, and Seokjin grabbed for some zip ties.

Taeyeon glanced at the house, slumping with relief when Yoongi and Hoseok got to her.

“I’m fireproof,” Yoongi said. “Is there anything inside that’s crucial?”

“Two kids,” she stammered. “A toddler and a five-year-old.”

Storm clouds swirled above them, the air feeling charged, but this time, as Jeongguk and he picked themselves up to restrain the man properly, Seokjin could think only of one thing to subdue him.

He punched Jiwon in the jaw, disrupting his concentration, shaking more facts loose: the fact that his wife was rather neglectful, spoiled the kids, and left the kids with their grandparents an awful lot. Or, that he thought those things.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk sounded shocked.

“You got a better plan?”

Jeongguk didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “Let’s just tie him up.”

They clambered off him and leaned him forward, but at the sparks zinging from his hands, neither thought it would be smart to touch them. Once he could collect himself, he could still be a threat.

“Officers.” Jeongguk called.

Said people stilled from their positions on the road.

“Does anyone have rubber gloves or something? We don’t have a way to safely restrain him.”

From their thoughts, Seokjin caught onto their fear that they might be trying to spin the story to their own benefit. Hoping this would work, Seokjin told Jeongguk to keep an eye on Jiwon, handed him his pepper spray, and stood up.

Despite ordering a new suit, Seokjin never changed his outfit from his days with the Dragons. The characteristic steel blue with black and white accents, imitated by a few, but not worn so well as him, often helped his case.

And in this instance, all it took was one officer noting it.

“Metacognition?” One asked.

“You got it. Heard there was a problem.”

The officer nodded, a tinge of respect and a bit of reservation in his gaze. His thoughts darted to Namjoon, and Seokjin fought not to be sick.

“Do you have a way to restrain a powered individual? His power appears to be electricity he can generate.”

“We do.” The officer pulled out his radio and barked a code into it, the other officers rushing around the cars to find the object requested.

Only then did Hoseok and Yoongi burst from the house, their suits smeared with soot. Hoseok and a clone carried one child each, while the upper floors of the house smoldered, the flames extinguished by Yoongi.

A hush fell over the officers as they realized what the appearance of the other two meant. A few of them cast their attention to Jeongguk, wondering who the only unidentified member was, and how he could be seen with the three veteran heroes.

Thankfully, Taeyeon rushed over to her children, sobbing and clutching at them both in Hoseok’s arms, clearly unable to hold them both in her damaged arms.

The officer’s radio crackled, and after listening to it, the officer in front of them nodded.

“We’re calling in a specialist car. In the meantime, we have rubber cuffs—”

A sound like lightning and the sizzling smell of flesh filled the air, Seokjin whipping around in horror as Jeongguk fell back off Jiwon, electricity surging through him.

“No!” Seokjin started toward him, afraid by what he couldn’t hear.

Jiwon glared down at Jeongguk, sparks dancing along his knuckles. Seokjin realized Jeongguk couldn’t unwind if he was unconscious.

Again, the smell of something superheating filled the air, but just as Jiwon smiled this horrible, broken smile, the ground at his feet exploded.

It sent him and Seokjin sprawling, but all Seokjin could think of was Jeongguk. They should take Jiwon alive, he had kids, but helpless rage filled him the way it had begun to since Namjoon’s disappearance.

Instead of going to Jeongguk, he found the man on the ground, groaning and clutching his leg where Yoongi must have thrown one of his flash bombs.

He removed his back-up pepper spray, then waited for Jiwon to open his eyes before he sprayed, savoring the sound of his screams. Whenever his thoughts began to clear, he sprayed him again and again, until the officer brought the rubber-lined cuffs over.

The effort it took to stop should have scared him, but once the officer reassured him that the containment car was minutes away, he wiped his mind of it. Jeongguk had sat up at some point, and that took all his attention. As he walked over to him, though, Jeongguk’s thoughts pierced through him.

So violent—unlike him. Well, except—

Flashes of battles from computer screens flashed through his mind, and Seokjin got to see himself overcome with rage and violence after a certain battle, where a horrific tentacled creature restrained and dragged Namjoon away. It was the last time he’d ever seen him alive, his features pinched with panic, and though the tentacles gagged him, Seokjin heard his thoughts, begging for help.

Begging for Seokjin, the only one who could hear him.

Tears blurred his vision, and he almost didn’t recognize who touched him, ushering him toward one of the on-scene ambulances.

“Jeongguk?” He asked, uncaring who answered. Once he knew Jeongguk was okay, he could let go.

“He’s getting medical attention on site,” someone—Hoseok—said. “But he’s responsive. He’s in pain, but nothing’s wrong with him.”

“That’s good,” Seokjin said, and then he closed his eyes.

He let the nurses work on him, checking him for injuries, and in the end, they wrapped the cuts on his knuckles and prescribed him painkillers for headaches.

Seokjin nodded, half-hearing them, dreaming of the peace of his own bed and ignoring the fact he would have to face at least Taehyung if he went home; Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jeongguk if he didn’t. Oh, to trade his power for invisibility.

Slipping out of the ambulance, thanking the women who helped him with forced enthusiasm, Seokjin walked over to the police to give his statement. They offered to drive him, but Yoongi appeared and cut him off mid-word.

"I can drive him to the station, Officer."

Yoongi nodded to the man, keeping it together better than Seokjin—but honestly, who would have expected otherwise? He couldn't see thoughts like Seokjin, and Seokjin never told anyone about Namjoon, though people could certainly guess.

No words were exchanged in the car, but Seokjin's relief couldn't last long. He gave his statement, his energy winding further and further down, and by the time he found himself back in Yoongi's car, waiting for the others to join him, he fell asleep against the headrest in the backseat.

He woke with a blanket wrapped around him, an old woven thing that Yoongi used to keep in the trunk "for emergencies," and Seokjin drew it tighter around him, feeling a headache throbbing at his temples.

Hoseok and Yoongi wouldn't be able to see from the front seat this late, but Jeongguk noticed, said, "Hyung."

"Hey." The anger and frustration faded, Seokjin snapping to wakefulness as he asked, "Are you alright? Are there any issues?"

"I'm fine, hyung," he said softly.

The moonlight stroked over Jeongguk's features like a lover's hand, running through his mussed hair. Dark circles hovered under his eyes and Seokjin felt the embarrassing urge to tug him close. He didn't realize he had such a complex about his partners, but he hadn't exactly worked with another hero since the Dragons splintered.

"What about you?" Jeongguk asked.

"What about me?"

"You're." He gestured at Seokjin as if that meant something. "I've never seen you shut down like this."

Part of Seokjin considered snapping at Jeongguk, and that impulse alone confirmed the observation.

"I thought you were hurt," he said, as if that wasn't obvious.

Instead of responding, Jeongguk reached out and laid his hand over Seokjin's, his brow furrowed. He let the silence rest, the two in the front seats silent as death.

"On the bright side, this was a great learning experience," Jeongguk finally said.

"In what way?" Seokjin snorted.

"We found a weak spot. If I'm incapacitated, I can't rewind."

It was so obvious, it felt stupid even correcting Jeongguk. Seokjin sighed.

"I've already been trained, but I've not really ever fought against anyone else with physical powers." Jeongguk began speculating a bunch of silly, rubber-influenced ways to help against other electricity users in the future.

Seokjin would never admit it, but the babble calmed him. He didn't let go of Jeongguk's hand, but he was able to relax against the seat again.

***

The four of them prepared for bed with the bewildered exhaustion that came from attempting to save someone and almost killing the victims. They passed each other like moving parts in a machine, all working toward the same goal, but when sleep should have been the next step, Yoongi caught Seokjin’s attention.

He stood in the archway to the kitchen, arms crossed in front of him, though for once, his features were soft.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure."

Seokjin ignored Jeongguk's curious glance and said, "Outside?"

"Yeah."

They ventured out into the country night, the sounds of settling families and insects filling the air. Seokjin could see why Yoongi escaped here—it was peaceful.

"What did you want to talk about?" Seokjin asked.

"Well." Yoongi pushed his hands into the pockets of an old pair of basketball shorts. "Everything feels weird. Hoseok's too sympathetic, so I wanted to talk to you about it."

"You're not too mad at me to talk to me?"

Yoongi snorted. "I'm still mad. At least, I think I am."

"I get it. It broke my heart, too."

Neither of them moved to acknowledge the state of their different wounds, though Yoongi did break the quiet understanding to say, "I never told you why I know he's dead. Not just...missing."

Seokjin waited. Yoongi didn't disappoint.

"About a month after they took him, I got a box delivered to my old apartment." He inhaled, the words difficult to say. "It had a ring in it. A gold ring covered in blood."

His shoulders trembled, grief choking him. Seokjin wanted to touch him, but he knew not to until Yoongi was finished.

"It wasn't the ring that convinced me. It was—you remember the old training? The resistance to torture?" Yoongi let out a laugh. "They were fucking paranoid back then. But I knew, if they got my real address out of Namjoon, if he was even still alive, he wouldn't be Namjoon anymore. He'd be broken."

There were so many arguments to be made; perhaps Namjoon traded the information for Yoongi's protection, but after two years of nothing, even Seokjin began to feel his conviction flicker.

"Maybe I am a little mad at you, though. He was my—we were—you know. And you're going to act like this beacon of hope. Like you're such hot shit for hanging on, not caring what it might do to the rest of us."

Seokjin let Yoongi insult him, understanding their horrible fight, the screaming match that ended when Hoseok yanked them apart. The duplicate apologized to Seokjin while the real Hoseok disappeared with Yoongi. After that, Hoseok met with him to talk, but those meetings were far and few in between. Despite Seokjin being the mind reader, Hoseok could sense how much his presence—and the lack of Yoongi's—hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Yoongi glanced at him, his features softer in the moonlight. "I'm sorry, too."

Sorry for the time we wasted being angry.

Moving without thinking, Seokjin enveloped his friend in a tight hug, uncaring if Yoongi stiffened at first from surprise.

"I love you, you know," Seokjin said. "I made a mistake, making this all about Namjoon."

I did, too.

They broke the hug, but something settled between them. This wasn't the resolution of their problems, but the great abyss between them now had a bridge over it.

When Seokjin settled down next to Jeongguk, Yoongi and he parting with a quiet "night" on both sides, he wasn't surprised to find Jeongguk still awake.

"Everything alright?" Jeongguk asked.

"Yeah." He smiled, tired. "I think things are."

"Good."

Jeongguk closed his eyes, then gave Seokjin the second change of the evening: He wiggled closer to Seokjin, until their breath intermingled.

Seokjin's heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing. He tried not to think about it, and instead focused on the contentment in Jeongguk's thoughts as he faded closer to sleep.

Strange things were happening, but it finally felt like Seokjin's life was moving forward again.

Chapter Text

They stayed with Yoongi for another week, growing more confident each day. Their next day out, it hurt less to see Yoongi in his costume, the tight patterned gray and white looking fresh again after years away from it. A few days later, and they got the summons for Jeongguk's costume being ready for a fitting. He could take it home that day if the measurements were correct.

This time, Jeongguk looked less suspicious of HQ, and even greeted Chaewon with a warm smile.

The suit fit like a glove. The scales glittered like a dragon's scales, and with the coat overtop, it even still looked like Jeongguk's signature style. His eyes sparkled in the mirror, cheeks flushed with pleasure, and Seokjin allowed himself to bask in the feeling. He almost forgot the thrill of discovering your public persona - like you were seeing this hero for the first time.

"Can we add a pair of black gloves?" He asked Chaewon after gushing over the outfit.

She nodded, called to Hyejoo to add the cost of the gloves to their bill, and then gave him the specs of the outfit.

"It's flame resistant, and the scales are a hybrid of my making. You will probably still be vulnerable to magnetrons, but I grounded it with rubber soles." She cast him a knowing look.

Jeongguk thanked her again and again as his companions dragged him toward the elevator. On their way, Hyejoo stepped back into the main area, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Call from the lobby," she said. "They asked me to tell Min Yoongi there's a package for him."

Yoongi nodded. It was weird for it to be at the front desk instead of the mail room, but it couldn't be anything dangerous. All packages were frisked before being allowed into the building.

They rode the elevator down, Jeongguk staring at his reflection in the mirrored wall. Seokjin caught himself smiling at Jeongguk and shook himself, forcing his thoughts toward the package, away from the sight of Jeongguk’s arms in the fitted armor.

When they arrived at street level, one of the secretaries greeted them with an excited, "Look who it is!"

The woman, Seulgi, stood up from her position, her eyes flashing with pleasure.

"I'd heard you were back in town. And I told them, 'no way. If Min Yoongi was back in town, that asshole would have at least paid me a visit.'"

He laughed and approached her, giving her a hug over the counter.

"Good to see you, too."

Her gaze swung to his companions, and her mouth dropped open in a show of dramatics.

"Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, and the mystery vigilante from the news. I should have known it would have taken someone this flashy to pull you from retirement, Yoongi oppa."

Yoongi nodded, gestured to them, and said, "You know how much I love the bureaucratics of being a superhero."

Seulgi laughed, then slid a small box over to Yoongi. It was the size of a cigar box, the typical cardboard from any post office.

"Well, I'll let you get back to it. Here's your package - call me up sometime. We need to go for drinks."

They bid her farewell, Yoongi shaking the box and listening to the thing flop around inside.

"Doesn't sound like clothes," Hoseok said.

"Or a puppy," Seokjin added.

Shooting Seokjin an unimpressed frown, Yoongi nevertheless stopped shaking the box until they reached his car, where he could open it with a knife from his utility belt.

He sliced it open with ease, parting the flaps, and Hoseok clicked on the overhead light to compensate for the watery, weak light of the parking garage.

Inside sat a small manila envelope, bulging with its contents. It felt top secret, and intrigue pierced through the car. This could be a request for aid - it could be anything.

Yoongi unfolded the metal prongs, opened the envelope, and held his palm out to dump whatever was inside into his hand.

A cluster of photographs slid out. The first was of Yoongi himself, a shot through the window of his house, clutching a bottle of soju, his kitchen a health hazard with dirty dishes and opened snacks on every flat surface.

Winching, Yoongi flipped to the next photo, and it showed Hoseok leaving HQ. It was taken from across the street, as if by a paparazzo or private investigator.

They frowned. Yoongi flipped more urgently to the next - this one of Yoongi and Jeongguk unmasked at a coffee shop.

Flickers of alarm passed through their minds. Hoseok grabbed the envelope, searching for any names written on it, but Seokjin said, "Wait." If it was post, it would have been touched by so many hands it might not have mattered, but if this got weird, they would want to dust for prints.

That option disappeared quickly. Yoongi flipped to the next picture and made a noise like he'd gotten punched in the stomach. He clutched the photos to him, blocking those in the backseat from seeing, but Seokjin tuned into his thoughts.

It was a picture of Namjoon, his hair silver and slicked straight back. He walked down the street of some unfamiliar city, a satchel tucked beside his left hip, a brightly colored scarf wound around his neck. In Yoongi's thoughts, he called him handsome with some bite, as if he had to acknowledge it alongside everything else.

Flip. Another picture, this one in a different outfit. There was a whole ream of photos like this, Yoongi's hands shaking, Hoseok looking on in silence, Jeongguk demanding to know what was wrong, what happened.

The second-to-last and final photos were the most concerning, after they began to wonder at the wheres and whens.

Namjoon holding a plane ticket to Incheon from Detroit Int'l, dated a week ago. And the last, a ruined negative written on with Sharpie:

Replace me already?

"Put them back in the envelope," Seokjin said, voice low. "We don't want to contaminate any evidence."

Yoongi's hands shook. Seokjin could feel the mounting waves of grief and anger in Yoongi, and they scared him. Yoongi hadn't felt so unhinged since that first day he woke up in the hospital and found Namjoon missing.

"What the fuck?" Yoongi seethed.

Jeongguk stopped his questioning, sensing the air in the car, and instead said, "If you want to keep your fingerprints off them, I can rewind before you open them?"

They waited for Yoongi to respond, and he nodded, the motion sharp.

"Make a good argument to past me."

"Will do."

Yoongi reached around for his utility belt, tossed onto Hoseok's side of the car, when Jeongguk said, "Don't open that. There's incriminating evidence in there you will get your fingerprints all over."

All three froze, Seokjin scanning his thoughts, and he said, "You took us back."

"Almost to the end of my ten minutes." Jeongguk fixed his gaze on Yoongi's in the rearview mirror. "Trust me. Future you gave me the go-ahead. You'll get to see what's in there once we take it to forensics."

"Did you see it?"

"I didn't," Jeongguk said, sounding frustrated. "I should have asked first."

"It's okay." Yoongi's brow crinkled with concern. "Should we run it back in to forensics?"

"Might as well, while we're here."

They piled out of the car again, returning to the elevator, but this time, Seokjin punched the button for sub-level three. The secretary in that section of the building glanced at them, his expression sleepy but alarmed, like they didn't get many unannounced visitors.

"Jongin," Seokjin greeted him. "Is Taehyung busy at the moment?"

He paused. "I'll call his office."

After a series of calls, he said, "He's on lunch, but if it's urgent, you know where his office is."

"Thank you, Jongin," he smiled, then gestured to his friends. "This way."

Two hallways branched from the main area, and he took them to the left, where the offices congregated.

"I didn't know you knew anyone in forensics," Yoongi said.

"He's my roommate, actually," Seokjin replied. "You'll like him. He's kind of like Hoseok."

They spoke with the casual air that came from carrying a bomb among them, but not knowing the contents, or when it would detonate. It worried Seokjin more than anything, what could be in the oblong box, but they would soon find out.

Reaching Kim Taehyung's office, he knocked at the door, then pushed it open, knowing the odds of finding Taehyung in a compromising position drastically decreased when his boyfriend had his own job.

Taehyung looked up from his lunch, cheeks bulging with ramen, and he almost choked when he saw Seokjin at the front of a crowd.

"Jin hyung?" He beamed at his roommate. "I didn't know you were back in town!"

Taehyung swallowed the dangerous amount of ramen and flew from his desk, throwing his arms around the elder, gracing him with one of his overlarge, bright smiles.

In that moment, Seokjin could tell in Yoongi's mind, at least, he'd been picturing Seokjin as frozen in time as he'd made himself. The fact that he lived with someone else, made other friends, bewildered him. He didn’t begrudge him despite the sharp thoughts, and Seokjin got it, to an extent. How dare he live on when Namjoon was gone?

But, Taehyung had a way of chasing those dark threads of thought away - the trait that drew Seokjin to him originally.

Seokjin returned the hug, not embellishing it when he said, "It's really good to see you."

Then he waved at the men behind him, introducing them.

"The one in the suit is Jeongguk, Yoongi is the shortest, and Hoseok is the one with the beanie."

Yoongi let out an offended sound, just like Seokjin hoped he would, distracting him from his own whirlpool of bitter thoughts.

Taehyung let him go and patted his arms, eyes dropping to Yoongi's package, brandished in front of him so he touched as little of it as possible.

Picking up on the tension, Taehyung asked, "I'm guessing this isn't a courtesy call."

"Sadly." Seokjin nodded to Yoongi. "Apparently this package is suspicious. We asked Jeongguk to rewind to keep our fingerprints off the contents."

"Dangerous?" Taehyung's eyebrows rose.

"I don't think so, since we were able to open it before."

Nodding, Taehyung dressed himself in his jacket and held his hands out for the package.

"We can do a fingerprint dusting in the lab, but if you want to know what's in it first, I can let you know."

Yoongi handed it over without hesitation, and Taehyung brought the package up to eye level, lips pursing as he focused his gaze.

Seokjin could see through his thoughts, and he gasped, horrified, when for the first time in this timeline, he could see the photos of Namjoon.

"What is it?" Jeongguk asked.

In halting words, Seokjin began to narrate what Taehyung saw to his friends, barely able to block Yoongi when he tried to retake the box.

"They need to dust those photos before you touch them," Seokjin snapped.

Yoongi’s eyes sought Seokjin's out, the look in them crazed.

"I'm just expected to sit pretty when you tell me we apparently have proof that my husband is alive? Get the fuck out of my way."

Surprising them all, Jeongguk reached forward and grabbed Yoongi's arm. His eyes burned with insistence.

"Hyung. If you wait, you can see the pictures, and increase your chances of finding out what happened to him. Isn’t that more important?"

Yoongi yanked free of his touch, but unlike with Seokjin, who he'd spent years blaming and found it came easily, Jeongguk was new, sweet, a protege.

He forced himself to take a breath, and he cast one last resentful look at Taehyung.

"I don't care what time is it - as soon as those are swept, you call me."

"I can do you one better," Taehyung said. "Once we safely take them out, I photograph them. I can send those to Jin hyung."

It wasn't Yoongi's ideal choice, but he nodded anyway.

***

Returning to the countryside seemed foolish, so they rode the elevator up to the empty hero rooms. It seemed rude to cram them all into Seokjin and Taehyung's apartment, nor did they want to linger in some public place. Yoongi especially didn't want to be looked at; he wanted to sit and wait until he could see the pictures.

They rode the elevator up to floor 7, greeting the desk attendant there, who was new, and accepted keys for a large suite.

Stepping into the luxurious room, the panels on the wall adjusted to look like windows, they sank down into the living room area. Jeongguk turned the TV on when it became clear no one wanted to talk, and Seokjin countered by knocking up the volume on his phone.

It was tense, uncertain, and then the first photo came in and it got so much worse.

Yoongi snatched Seokjin's phone from him, and when he saw the image of his husband, he let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob, hands shaking.

"This has to be photoshopped."

He waited, staring down at Seokjin's phone, and when about ten minutes passed, he snapped, "Where's the rest?"

"He takes the photo first," Seokjin explained. "Then he has to test them. We could be here a while."

Hoseok ordered them Chinese after another hour, the photos trickling in. After a certain point, Seokjin sent Taehyung their room number, inviting him up once he finished. Other scientists came in to help him, especially after his shift officially ended, but he stayed on to ensure his friends got the photos.

Finally, the last two photos, the one with the timestamp and the note, arrived on Seokjin's phone. They left Yoongi catatonic on the sofa, his bowl of seafood stew untouched. His thoughts rambled and sparked, almost inhuman, Seokin numb as he followed Yoongi’s anguish and Hoseok’s carefully sculpted calm.

Taehyung arrived about twenty minutes later, deep bags under his eyes, and he grabbed for the bowl of noodles left for him.

"How much longer until they place the fingerprints?" Yoongi asked, as soon as Taehyung stepped inside.

"Could be three days, could be five, depending on the quality of the samples." Taehyung cast Yoongi a sympathetic frown on his way to the kitchen. "And we might not even have results if the perp's fingerprints aren't in the system."

After a moment of defeated silence, Taehyung said, "The cops will take it further. See where the photos were developed, where the box was mailed from. Then security cameras will be checked. This isn't the end of the road."

Seokjin didn't take it as a good sign that no one replied.

***

They spent a few days loitering around HQ, waiting for results, with Jeongguk being the sole exception. Seokjin never put it into words before, but Jeongguk hated sitting around when he could be doing something. It tore Seokjin up, debating whether to go with him or to stay with Yoongi, but ultimately, his debts to Yoongi won.

"Be careful," he murmured to Jeongguk, as he slipped on the gloves Chaewon sent up.

"Always, hyung."

Before, where that might have annoyed Jeongguk, he smiled at Seokjin, the expression subdued, but understanding. If anything good came from this, Jeongguk could see how Namjoon's disappearance decimated them, and he could better understand things from Seokjin's perspective.

Day four of waiting around, Taehyung delivered the news that none of the fingerprints matched any in their system.

"We discounted those on the outside of the box. Too much interference, and most of them are documented postal workers, you guys, and Seulgi. We're sending officers to the post office the box came from, and it appears that the photos were printed on a personal photo printer."

At that, Yoongi stood from the couch, something dull in his eyes, and said, "Alright. Seokjin has my number. Have him call me if anything new comes up."

"You're going home?" Seokjin couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice. "Really?"

"What do I have here, hyung? I can sit on my hands, have none of my stuff, and I'm no closer to Joon."

He exhaled, staring into the distance.

"The Yoongi I know would be tearing this city apart looking for him."

"The Yoongi you know did do that," he spat. "The first time Namjoon went missing, and so did a lot of people. All it did was put me in dangerous situations and leave another mess for you two."

Yoongi deflated when Hoseok touched his arm, but before he could speak again, Hoseok said, "You could always stay with me."

"You're missing the part where I have none of my stuff here."

"Then we get your stuff and you stay with me," Hoseok said.

This time Yoongi didn't immediately fire back, and Seokjin cast Hoseok a grateful glance. They tended to talk over Hoseok, but when he forced his way though, he was a battering ram.

"Alright," Yoongi finally said.

And thus the awful, continued period of sitting on their hands continued.

***

Seokjin found himself following in Jeongguk's footsteps, going out on patrol with him while they waited first for news, and then a follow-up. There was less talking than usual, both trying to focus on the people they helped and the streets they watched. Exhaustion and grief threatened to choke Seokjin if he tried to multitask, and Jeongguk seemed to understand without Seokjin telling him.

Despite having a home of his own, when the days ended, Jeongguk would follow Seokjin to his apartment. His thoughts worried for Seokjin, only spinning at the thought of Namjoon potentially being alive. Somehow, the hero-worship condensed and was set aside for his very real concern about Seokjin.

He didn’t know what to make of it, but he also preferred the company, so he let Jeongguk attempt whatever he was doing.

"They're reviewing the internal footage of everyone of interest," Seokjin said, reading from the text Yoongi just sent him.

He slumped back on his couch, not caring how much awkwardness and excitement vibrated off Jeongguk. Until Jeongguk thought it the first day, Seokjin didn't realize he'd never invited him into his apartment.

Jeongguk clutched his can of Pepsi to his chest like it would protect him, his mind cycling through the little idiosyncrasies in the living room: Taehyung's stupid posters, the framed photos that belonged to both of them, the bag of clipped chips that never left the end table by the couch.

Before Seokjin knew it, Jeongguk's thoughts relaxed him, stripping the days of tension away as he focused on something else.

"Why did you invite me here?" Jeongguk finally blurted out. "Sorry - I know that sounds horrible, but I can't stand - you're obviously just sitting there listening to my thoughts, and that's not fair."

Seokjin let out a little laugh. "It's fine. I always preferred blunt to pretending you don't know."

Sitting up, hand rising to fix his hair, he found Jeongguk on the other end of the couch, his thin lower lip pinched as he bit it.

"Honestly, I'm going out of my mind a bit with everything," Seokjin said. "I wanted some company."

Jeongguk weighed the words, glanced at Seokjin.

Finally, he said, "I had no idea Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung were married."

"That was the point. Society's real conservative, and legally, they're not. In practice, they were, but they also didn't want the mistreatment."

"You think that's why those villains targeted him?"

Seokjin flinched, unable to admit he hadn't thought about it.

"Let's talk about something else," he said.

"Sorry."

Letting the silence rest for a moment, it hit Seokjin all at once, causing him to blurt out, "You stopped rewinding when you say something wrong."

"Sorry." Now Jeongguk flinched. "I can - if you want me to?"

"No." He smiled without humor. "I like it better this way. That way we're on the same level."

They sat, feeling much more comfortable, and Seokjin offered, "Would you want to watch something? Do you have anywhere to be?"

Jeongguk smiled at him, the expression shy, which confused Seokjin a bit.

"That sounds nice."

Their debate on what to watch took a decent amount of time but brought them closer on the couch as they grappled for the remote. Seokjin would like to pretend he didn't notice, but the apartment, kept cold for Taehyung, who swore Jimin was a living furnace, drew his attention to the warmth that exuded from Jeongguk. The strength in his arms as they play-wrestled.

Seokjin let him "win" the remote, just to introduce some space back between them.

Choosing an action movie, Seokjin settled back, enjoying the mindlessness of it, nursing first a pop, then a beer, which he offered to share with Jeongguk.

"Nah," he wrinkled his nose. "I don't like beer."

"Oh. Want me to mix you a drink?"

Jeongguk paused, so Seokjin took that for the affirmative, rising from the couch with an idea.

It wasn't anything spectacular—just soju and mountain dew—but Jeongguk took to it a little too well. And boy did it backfire.

Unlike the last time they went out for drinks, they laughed a lot, no business on their minds. After his electric burns from the other week, Jeongguk thought before rushing into situations, seeming to finally understand that he could help more people if he's not in the hospital. Nothing huge happened yet to prove it, but it was the general sense Seokjin got from his attitude.

The beer helped as far as suppressing the strange feelings but did nothing to dissemble them. Jeongguk giggled into his shoulder at things that weren't that funny, and Seokjin found himself savoring the contact.

Seokjin laid an arm across the top of the sofa, his heartbeat going a little too fast, his cheeks too hot, and he found himself saying, "I think I need to go outside."

"Oh?" Jeongguk laughed. "What's out there? Got a little old lady to save?"

"Nooo." Seokjin pouted. "Hot."

"Easy solution."

Then, scaring the shit out of Seokjin, Jeongguk's hands went to the hem of his hoodie, tugging at it.

"Take this off, you won't be so warm."

"I can't. I'm not wearing anything under it."

That made Jeongguk pause for a second, but he redoubled his efforts.

"So? We're both guys. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Seokjin argued, but it grew weaker and weaker as Jeongguk threw himself across Seokjin's lap, and he realized he was in danger of something worse happening, so he gave in.

"Alright, alright! Just get off!"

Jeongguk obeyed, giving him a shit-eating grin, and Seokjin reached down, pulling the hoodie up over his head like he was ripping off a band-aid. Before he even tossed it over the back of the couch, he could feel Jeongguk's gaze lingering, his mouth even slightly open.

"What?" He fought the urge to cross his arms across his nipples.

"Nothing." Jeongguk swallowed, forced his gaze up.

"Guess we found why I was your favorite superhero, eh?"

He tried to play it off with a joke, but Jeongguk took it seriously.

"Of course not! I mean, this didn't hurt," he gestured at him. "Why do you never believe that you were my favorite?"

In a weird moment of insecurity, Seokjin found himself saying, "Well. It's not exactly like I was the showiest power or personality. For most missions, I was the walkie-talkie or the hostage negotiator. Most little boys like Yoongi or admire Hoseok or Namjoon."

Jeongguk shook his head. "And that's where you get it wrong. Remember, I wasn't that little. I was like 13. And you were the coolest. The moment you stepped into the room, you were so self-assured. You knew exactly what was going on, exactly how to figure people out."

They shifted closer to each other again, their knees bumping. Despite being shirtless, Seokjin still felt too hot.

"Oh," he managed.

"Jin hyung."

Seokjin blinked, and it must have taken forever, because when his eyes opened, Jeongguk's face was too close, the sugary scent of his breath on his lips. For once, his thoughts were blank. He couldn't hear a thing.

"Yeah?"

Jeongguk leaned in and kissed him, his lips slightly damp and so, so warm. Seokjin's arms rose instinctively, wrapping around Jeongguk, urging him closer.

Their thighs were flush together, and Seokjin gasped when he felt one of Jeongguk's hands on his hip, fingertips brushing bare skin. In another world, they would have fallen together, become a flurry of limbs as they thirsted to touch more.

In this one, Jeongguk pulled back, just a bit, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Seokjin answered with another kiss, then another.

***

They woke when the door to the apartment opened, the sound of either Taehyung or Jimin fumbling with their keys enough to rouse Seokjin from his uncomfortable position on the couch. He'd fallen asleep with his head propped on the armrest, his legs tangled with Jeongguk's, who mimicked his posture on the other side.

"Well," Taehyung said, "isn't this cute."

Something in his intonation seemed off, and Seokjin sat up with a grunt, jostling Jeongguk in the process.

Taehyung removed his shoes, slid them onto their shelf, and stepped up onto living room floor, gaze swinging around like he was examining the apartment.

"What?" Seokjin asked.

He cast his thoughts outward, wondering if he could pluck the problem out of Taehyung's mind.

Instead, he found an unfamiliar mind, cataloging the contents of his apartment in case they would come in handy.

"Jeongguk—" His hand shot out to shake his friend, thinking they could apprehend this shapeshifter if they could just go back in time.

"Ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Not-Taehyung said with a smile. "You can rewind as many times as you like, but I can leave this body as quickly as you give yourself away."

Seokjin froze, unwilling to believe the coincidence, the likelihood that someone with Namjoon's power could just appear like that, right after the photographs had been sent to Yoongi.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

Obviously, this man wouldn't answer, but his thoughts wouldn't be able to hide the truth.

Who am I? What a fool, such an idiot, as if I don't know how he works—

"Besides," Not-Taehyung said, humor taking the place of worded thoughts, "you act like I don't know how you work, Metacognition."

He flexed his fists, kicking at Jeongguk's leg, who finally grumbled and wrinkled his nose.

"I see I need to wrap this up," Not-Taehyung said, dodging back as Seokjin jumped onto the armrest of the couch.

Seokjin hurtled toward him, over the back of the couch, aiming to kick him in the face, but a moment too late, he saw the man's expression clear, revealing one of panicked confusion.

"Jin hyu—"

He tried to pull back, so instead of following through with his kick, he wiped them both out, Taehyung and he hitting the ground with a heavy enough crash that Jeongguk jolted up.

"Wha?"

Taehyung and Seokjin moaned in pain, Seokjin's vision blurry from where he smacked his head off the floor, while poor Taehyung took most of the impact. He landed mostly on his hip and shoulder, the only thing that kept his head from also hitting the floor.

"Shit," Seokjin groaned. "I think I gave myself a concussion."

"Jeongguk—" His hand shot out to shake his friend, pausing when he found him with his eyes open.

Not-Taehyung smiled. "You can rewind as many times as you like, but I can leave this body as quickly as you give yourself away."

"Jin hyung, don't try to hurt him," Jeongguk said. "You end up getting hurt."

"I see," Not-Taehyung said. "Well, if we've already played this game once, I'll leave you gentlemen with this: check his pockets."

Jeongguk got up from the couch, his eyes bright as he tried to process whatever just happened, and Seokjin caught himself up from Jeongguk's thoughts.

Instead of falling, or whatever happened, Seokjin approached Taehyung by circling the couch, probing his thoughts. This time, he found confusion, a haze over his mind like he'd just been drugged.

"Jin hyung?" He asked. "Shit, when did I get home?"

"About five minutes ago," Seokjin said. "You don't remember?"

"No. I mean, yes. It's like I was watching myself through a glass wall."

Panic spiked as Seokjin compared the information to prior knowledge.

"I think you were possessed," he said.

Jeongguk and Taehyung both look at him, different questions in their eyes.

"Possessed like—"

"Like what Namjoon is able to do, yeah."

Seokjin inhaled slowly, trying to ground himself before he repeated Not-Taehyung's words.

"We should check your pockets."

Taehyung swallowed but reached into his pants pockets, tugging the front two inside out with no results. The rear two yielded more: his cell phone and a business card to a Japanese restaurant in Myeongdong. They would deal with that in a moment.

"Are you okay?" Seokjin asked.

"I think so."

"What's the last thing you remember clearly?"

"I remember coming home from Jimin's. He has to work this morning, and you know how his crazy roommates are." He exhaled, hands rising to rub his arms. "The last really clear thing I remember is that I was debating going into a Tous les Jours for a croissant or something. After that, it gets fuzzy."

Seokjin processed the information. "Do you remember anyone knocking into you?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Should we call HQ?"

"Probably. I think I want to get checked out. What if it left alien eggs in my brain?" Taehyung joked, though his heart didn't sound in it.

Seokjn scrambled for his phone, abandoned on their coffee table, and punched the number in for the Incidents Department at HQ and reported what happened to Taehyung. When he finished, he relayed everything back to the others.

"They want all three of us in for questioning. You good to go?"

"As good as I'm going to be, I think." Taehyung offered him a shaky smile, and they headed out.

***

That process took about three hours including travel time, and while all three of them were hungry, Taehyung begged them into going home. He didn't really want to cook, his mind said, but he wanted off the streets. As someone who never fought crime like Seokjin, being targeted scared him. He didn't have a tolerance for that kind of bullshit.

Jeongguk and Seokjin flanked him on either side as they returned home, Seokjin going so far as to bolt the deadlock.

"I'll cook," Taehyung said.

HIs hands shook, but he needed something to keep busy.

"I'll call Jimin when his shift's done," he continued. "I know he'll cut out if I text him now."

Seokjin nodded and settled on the couch beside Jeongguk. Taehyung didn't want to talk, so he clicked on the television to fill the air.

Only then did the memories of last night wash over him - and considering how Jeongguk stiffened beside him, they seemed to occur to him, too. Jeongguk's thoughts looped through he looks so good can't believe we did that oh god what happens now?

Then: Seokjin?

"That's hyung to you," he replied.

He checked over his shoulder to see if Taehyung heard, but the banging around of pots and the rush of tap water concealed it.

What was that last night?

"You don't remember?"

"No, I do," Jeongguk said. "I just - we kissed. A lot. Was that the alcohol?"

Seokjin didn't know how to disagree, so he settled for "no, I don't believe it was."

They said nothing for a few minutes, until Jeongguk's thoughts settled on But why did you kiss me?

Not having considered this yet himself, Seokjin rushed the thought process, tracking his worries – secondary compared to what happened to Taehyung, but no less concerning.

"Maybe because I was jealous of Yoongi," Seokjin said, still processing. "You're my rookie, and you got along with him so much better than you did with me.” That was probably where the strange feelings started.

Seokjin felt Jeongguk deflate, heard his thoughts whisper oh over and over. He wasn't sure what it meant, but Jeongguk stood up before he could ask.

"Hyung," he called to Taehyung. "Let me make the side dishes!"

It stung. Seokjin hadn’t been done with his train of thought, but Jeongguk had apparently heard enough. Either way, the question being sprung on him hadn’t helped anything, so he would pay it full mind later.

He pulled his phone out, dialing Hoseok’s number. It rang and rang, but Hoseok answered on the last one before his answering machine.

“What?”

“Is Yoongi with you?” Seokjin retreated to his room out of respect to Taehyung.

“Yeah. Want me to put him on?”

“No. Put it on speakerphone.”

Seokjin proceeded to tell them what just happened after greeting Yoongi.

When he finished, Hoseok exhaled, sounding pained.

"That's exactly how his power works," Seokjin said.

"But what does it mean?"

"On a surface level, it sounds like Joon's fucking with us," Seokjin said. "But it has to be more than that. Unless Yoongi was cheating on him or something, and even then, I don't think anything could ever turn him against us."

Yoongi snorted, and Hoseok agreed, “You're right, Joon would never. So, someone else with his power is messing with us."

"I've been thinking,” Seokjin said. “What if it was a face-changer? In the photos? This could be some crazy villain plot to fuck with us."

They considered it.

Hoseok said, "You mean they heard we got back together, even if it was temporary, and wanted to make sure we stayed split up?"

"Or, maybe they're fanboys,” Yoongi said. “They want to wipe out the rest of our group, and they know Joon is the perfect bait."

The silence was pained this time, and Seokjin swallowed.

"Either way," he finally said. "We can't let this make us sloppy. We're going to find these fuckers and bring them to justice. Right?"

Until that moment, he forgot that Hoseok and Yoongi retired. That they might not want dragged back into the world of hero-ing.

"I mean, they haven't done anything illegal yet," Hoseok said. "But, I agree. What they're doing is fucked. I'm with you."

"Me too." Yoongi didn't even hesitate. "They don't get to fuck with Joon like that. Or us."

The last sentence sounded like an afterthought, and Seokjin and Hoseok laughed in tandem.

Even if it took something scarring, Seokjin felt so much fuller with his two closest friends back in his life.

However, with the serious concern of their stalker, Seokjin temporarily forgot about the awkward situation he caused with Jeongguk. That air lingered over lunch, even if they put it on the back burner to talk to Taehyung, wanting to support him more than lick his wounds.

As much as Seokjin wanted to plan, he recognized that it might not be the best thing for Taehyung, so he bundled all three of them under blankets and put on a cooking competition show to distract them. They huddled together on the couch, Seokjin brewing them mugs of tea after a few hours, settling on sharing the potential game plan the next day, depending on Taehyung's state of mind.

Around six pm, Taehyung's phone rang, and even though they weren't that far apart, Seokjin could hear every word Jimin said:

"Babe, I'm outside the apartment. I have my key, but I didn't want to scare you."

Shooting up from the couch the moment the phone rang, Taehyung hustled over to the door, his thoughts trembling and foreshadowing the tears he would burst into once he got the door open.

Taehyung threw himself at Jimin, sobbing, and his boyfriend held him tightly, his thoughts vicious. He might work a "normal" person's job, but he would break kneecaps for Taehyung. If the wrong things happened, he might even someday become a super villain.

"Maybe we should relocate," Seokjin mumbled to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk hadn't spoken more than a few words to him after their strange, awkward conversation from earlier, but he nodded now.

"Kitchen?"

"How about my room?" When Jeongguk shrank back, he offered, "I have a gaming laptop."

Excitement lit Jeongguk from the inside out, surprising Seokjin a bit, but not totally. He struck him as a gamer, after all, or he wouldn't have brought it up.

"What do you have?"

Seokjin guided them into his room, and as he settled Jeongguk on Overwatch, the air eased between them again.

"You're pretty good," he said after a few games.

"Mhm."

"Is this what you do when you're not hero-ing?"

Jeongguk must have heard his incredulity, because after the next game, he turned to Seokjin with a slight frown.

"Why do you say it like that?"

"You're such a hero. I thought you'd be volunteering at kennels or something."

When a flicker of hurt passed through Jeongguk, Seokjin clarified, "I don't mean it like I think you're lame. I mean, you're a much more considerate person than me. I'm not surprised I do something stupid like this in my free time, but you—"

"You think it's a waste."

"I think it's good you take time for yourself.”

Jeongguk didn't reply, and Seokjin added, irritated, "Why are you so quick to assume I'm insulting you?"

He shrugged. His thoughts didn't help with the clarification, them settling right around when he chose to speak again.

"We come from such different backgrounds. You guys built yourselves from a really new hero system." Jeongguk wheeled around in Seokjin's desk chair. "I started doing this because of the Dragons."

"You're saying there's more—what—honor in the way I do things?"

"I don't know!"

That was the source of their problems. Despite or perhaps because of Seokjin's ability to see Jeongguk's thoughts, their communication tangled, each assuming they understood things about the other.

"I like you," Seokjin said. "I think you're great, fucking brave and smart and a potentially amazing hero. I don't understand why you expect me to think otherwise."

Color flooded Jeongguk’s cheeks, and for better or worse, Seokjin saw he got his points across. Then, twisting Seokjin's expectations, his expression hardened.

"You like me, or you just don't want me to prefer Yoongi to you?"

"What?"

Seokjin understood, but it felt so ridiculous, he had to point it out.

"Jeongguk. I took you to Yoongi. I knew you weren't getting what you needed from me. I knew whatever I was doing, it wouldn't help you." Despite his best efforts, he knew he wasn't doing a good job keeping the sour-milk frown off his face. "I knew he'd be able to show you a different way."

"Yeah, well—"

"Would I have panicked like I did when that man burned you?" He said. "Would I have kissed you last night?"

The air in the room died, but Seokjin couldn't care less.

Jeongguk inhaled, the sound too loud. Even with the distance between them, the room felt too small. A flicker of want passed through Seokjin, and he couldn't say which of them it originated from.

"You said you did."

"Yeah, well, I misspoke.”

They stared at each other. Seokjin found himself appreciating Jeongguk's big, sweet eyes yet again, their somberness almost wrong. He considered kissing the wrinkle between Jeongguk's eyebrows and began to realize his feelings might stretch beyond the simplicity of wanting to kiss a hot, wonderful man.

Finally, Seokjin said, "I think I've been clear enough. What do you want?"

Jeongguk took a deep breath, the panic of his thoughts again clouding the easy way to find an answer, but before he could answer, Taehyung and Jimin disturbed them by knocking.

"Hey," Taehyung said, opening the door a crack. "It's getting late."

"Oh." Jeongguk hurried to stand, but before Seokjin could even scold Taehyung for kicking Jeongguk out and possibly interrupting a moment, Taehyung continued.

"I wasn't trying to tell you to go home. I was actually going to say it would be a lot safer for you to stay here for the night, rather than go home by yourself."

Jimin nodded in encouragement.

"Jin hyung can take the couch, or you two can share or something. Either way, we'd both feel better if you weren't going home by yourself tonight."

Seokjin waited, and Jeongguk agreed after a little thought.

"After today, I think I would rather wait."

None of them mentioned that it happened to Taehyung in broad daylight, but, to Seokjin, it made sense. Larger crowds and the villain probably knew Taehyung's work schedule. If anything, none of them should travel alone at any point.

"We should start doing the buddy system," Seokjin said.

They talked logistics for a bit, and Seokjin realized Jeongguk and he would have to accompany them everywhere. It wasn't Jimin and Taehyung's faults they had regular hours for their jobs, and Seokjin at least made salary. Jeongguk, he wasn't sure.

Once they drifted back into the living room, he asked him, and Jeongguk said, "I'm a student. I actually start back in a week or so."

All three of them stared at him. Seokjin asked, "How did you afford your apartment and your tuition?"

Jeongguk blushed, looking down at his hands. "My parents pretty much pay for everything. That's why I'm never around on Sundays." He glanced at Seokjin. "I go home to visit. They know I do vigilante stuff—they have to, since they know about my power—and they've threatened to cut me off more than once because of it. I think the only reason they haven't is that they're hoping once I graduate from university that whatever I do with my degree will be too time-consuming for me to run around anymore."

Seokjin reeled. "You never mentioned school before."

He wasn't sure why that mattered in this time or place, but it stung that something so big about Jeongguk remained in the dark until now.

Shrugging, Jeongguk said, "It wasn't relevant to being a hero."

And, despite Jeongguk’s mistrust of HQ, the idea of being a professional hero tore at him, he wanted it so badly. He wanted to work for the people and be paid by the city for his efforts. It was the romantic, childhood dream of a rich boy who saw himself in the teenagers on his television.

"So, Jin hyung will be alone on the streets again."

The way Taehyung phrased it sounded like it was meant to be a joke, but considering his concern with them going anywhere alone, it fell flat.

"Doesn't matter. I can hear perps coming. If anything, I should be the only one on my own." He sighed. "Maybe I'll convince Hoseok to help out. We can be chaperones until we catch this asshole."

It sounded flawed even to him, but it was the best they could do. Seokjin felt exhausted just thinking about it.

Jeongguk jumped in. "But that's as far as we can plan tonight. Hyung, we can go out on patrol tomorrow, so this makes that a little faster. Or we can walk Jimin hyung home, or Taehyung hyung to work." He reached out and touched Seokjin's arm. "We'll make it work."

Seokjin's heart rate sped up, annoying him as the awareness of Jeongguk increased. He tried not to let his features change as he nodded.

"All right." Taehyung glanced at Jimin, the couple sharing a telepathic moment, like usual, and then he smiled at the pair of them. "Well then, we're going to shower."

"I figure a shower blowjob will calm him down," Jimin added on their way out.

As it was Jeongguk's first time meeting Jimin, he recoiled at the bluntness, which caused Seokjin to laugh.

"His solution to me being able to read his thoughts is to share everything. Sorry I didn't think to warn you."

"No big deal." Jeongguk let out a nervous laugh. "Wow. So they just. Do stuff when you're home?"

"Yup." Seokjin walked over to his dresser. "They're gross, but well. I owe them both a lot."

He pulled out an over-sized t-shirt and pair of basketball shorts, then tossed them to Jeongguk, who stumbled, but caught them.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Seeing Jeongguk was curious, he explained, "I'm assuming you know how Yoongi, Hoseok, and I split up?" When Jeongguk nodded, he continued, "After the charges against Yoongi were settled, we had no reason to talk to each other again. And I didn't really reach out to Hoseok, even though he understood both sides. I guess I was sick of never being able to get away from thoughts of Namjoon."

He tugged his sweats off, added, "You mind if I sleep in my boxers?"

"No."

Seokjin ignored the squeak in his voice, then continued with his explanation. "We fell out of communication, if that wasn't super obvious, and I moved out of HQ. I couldn't deal with the paparazzi...and how they stopped showing up. Couldn't deal with the pitying looks I got every time I left my room."

Walking over to his bed, he sank down onto it, feeling exhausted. "I put out an ad for a roommate with superpowers. Easier for me if my identity got out. A few people answered, but Taehyung was the best choice, as he was going into working for HQ but hadn't started yet. He didn't know who I was for the first month."

He laid back against his pillow, closing his eyes so Jeongguk could change.

"And when he found out?"

Smiling, Seokjin said, "He said, 'Sucks, bro' and offered to buy us a case of beer. We sat and drank and ate our way through this enormous Burger King order. I think I went into a food coma."

At Jeongguk's silence, he opened his eyes and found the incredulous, slightly offended look on his face.

"Are you kidding me? Your best friend goes missing, and he says, 'Sucks, bro'? Why was that a good thing?"

"Because he didn't know what to say," Seokjin said, hating himself when his throat got tight, "and he didn't try to make a grand statement or pretend that he knew what I was going through. He acknowledged it, but he didn't treat me any differently. Also, he was the first friend I'd had in a while who was just mine. Everyone who apologized to me knew him, too, so it was like this sinking blanket of sad that never went away."

Jeongguk changed his shirt, then walked to his side of the bed.

"I'd never thought of that before."

"Why would you have?" Seokjin turned his head to look at Jeongguk. "He was one of your heroes. I'm sure you felt bad for us three but were mostly focused on Namjoon. And that's not a bad thing."

In a moment of existentialism, he pretended he could see them from above, laying side-by-side on his bed, their soft hair fanning against his pillows. They must look so young, like any other guys, and Seokjin's heart ached.

"How long have he and Jimin been together?"

Seokjin laughed. "Forever, if you go by how they act."

He began telling Jeongguk about his friends, and they talked so much they actually needed to fetch glasses of water. Despite how inappropriate it felt to calm down after something horrible could have happened to Taehyung, having Jeongguk there to talk to soothed him.

"Oh," Seokjin said after another hour. "I should call Yoongi."

Jeongguk sat patiently as Seokjin called and briefed his friends, begging them back into the city. He would have felt bad about offering up Hoseok's couch, but Seokjin knew Hoseok would do just about anything for them, safety or no.

When he hung up, those plans in place, he let out a quiet sigh.

"You alright?" Jeongguk asked.

"Yeah."

In that moment, he wanted to kiss Jeongguk again. Enough that he asked.

"Hey. About last night."

"Yeah?"

"Can we do that again?"

"'That'?" Jeongguk laughed.

Seokjin looked at him, and his eyes were liquid, fond as Jeongguk sought Seokjin out as well.

It was effortless to roll onto his side and meet Jeongguk in the middle, their lips clumsy as they maneuvered into position. Somehow this made the kiss sweeter, Seokjin's hand rising to touch Jeongguk's cheek.

They kissed like that for a while, until concerns began to rise from the ether. At first, Seokjin thought he must be picking them up from Jeongguk like an errant radio wave, but they weren't.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hm?"

"I just want to make sure I'm not taking advantage of you."

"What?" Jeongguk laughed.

"You know. Being your favorite hero and all that. If it's not manipulative to be kissing you like this."

"Hyung." Jeongguk rested a hand over Seokjin's heart, playful smile morphing into something more tender. "With as much as we fought, I don't know how you still think you have this insane hold over me."

Seokjin let out an offended noise that caused Jeongguk to laugh right before he kissed it away.

It helped that they didn't do any more than that before falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Seokjin couldn’t say what scared him away from more with Jeongguk. Perhaps the rather personal nature of their latest problem, the way Taehyung was so easily endangered. Or perhaps he was afraid despite Jeongguk’s assurances. As the older of the two by a few years, he had a responsibility to look out for Jeongguk and to remember that his authority could be an intimidation factor. He couldn’t help worrying about how much of their building relationship was mutual.

He woke with a lazy arm draped over Jeongguk, his sleep comfortable, mind still fuzzy. Today he would walk Taehyung and Jimin to work, then he would check in with Yoongi and Hoseok to see what day he could expect them. Putting it off felt like a mistake, but rushing Yoongi might leave them with a sting operation none of them were ready for.

Their walks to Jimin and Taehyung’s works passed without incident, and Seokjin called Hoseok as he and Jeongguk looked for a nice alley to change out of their civilian clothes.

“Hey, we were wondering what your estimated ETA is?”

It felt pushy, but before he could rephrase, Hoseok replied, “We’re still packing. We don’t know how long this will take, and Yoongi doesn’t want to leave valuable stuff unattended.”

“Makes sense,” Seokjin said. “So, no restaurant today?”

“Not today. Tomorrow, if I can get Yoongi’s boxes to my apartment in one trip.”

“Alright. Just keep me posted.”

Hanging up, he caught Jeongguk up on the plans, and tried to put tomorrow out of his mind. They assisted a woman having a heart attack, and Jeongguk rewound to save a dog from being hit by a car, but otherwise, it was an uneventful day patrolling.

When the sun started to dip, Seokjin walked Jeongguk home, relieved he didn’t try to argue against the escort.

“They should be here tomorrow or Thursday, so don’t over-extend yourself tonight,” Seokjin said.

Jeongguk laughed. “Just say it: you think I play video games too late. I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned my bedtime.”

They’d detoured for their clothes and now walked without the masks, their conversation louder and less restricted. Seokjin kept their pace quick once they disembarked from their bus, aware of the decreasing number of people on the streets. That would make their villain less likely to attack, based on his pattern, but Seokjin knew if he tried to anticipate a pattern, he could leave himself open to a blind spot. Better to stay mindful and walk quickly.

Even so, riding the bus left a body-possessor vulnerable to a very visible presentation, and Jeongguk’s nicer neighborhood felt safe as they disembarked from their bus. It was a decent distance away from Seokjin’s, even though he didn’t live in a terrible part of town, and by the time they reached Jeongguk’s building, the fatigue from the day set in.

“Hyung?”

Seokjin turned from the gated apartment building, the distance closing between them. The soupy August air warmed even further like this.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Something felt wrong about Jeongguk asking, but Seokjin knew he could show that better than if he commented on it.

“Of course.”

His hands settled on Jeongguk’s hips, coaxing him closer as their mouths met. The brush of Jeongguk’s lips and his sweet, warm breath was just as addictive as the last time, but it didn’t last nearly as long. No need to give the passersby a show.

Seokjin drew back with a small smile, saying, “If someone had told me this would happen before I met you, I never would have believed them.”

Feeling Jeongguk’s flash of hurt, he added, “I don’t usually get close to people like this. It’s not new, but it almost feels like a first.” Embarrassment chased the words, as Seokjin often didn’t prefer to state his emotions so straightforwardly, but he could feel Jeongguk settling.

He sealed his words with another kiss.

When enough distance had been introduced, Jeongguk said, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you in front of City Hall.”

Hoseok ended up needing more than one trip for Yoongi’s things, so their day of reckoning would wait an additional 24 hours. They patrolled,Seokjin quizzing Jeongguk on how to get to Hoseok’s apartment. It would be faster and more efficient if they arrived at Hoseok’s separately, but Seokjin feared something going wrong before they could even reach the Japanese restaurant.

But, as it was a Japanese restaurant, not designed for breakfast, they still didn’t plan to meet until 11 am. Seokjin’s buses slowed him down, so by the time he arrived, he was the last one. Yoongi greeted him in full costume, the gray hood around his shoulders. Namjoon had been the one to suggest a hood for Yoongi the one time he burned his eyebrows and eyelashes off.

All four of them paid for fireproof costumes, made of this stretchy, traditional-looking fabric, so they could work with Yoongi. Their difference compared to other lycra and spandex heroes was that their suits didn’t shine. Their shared colors – navy, gray, and white – looked more majestic because of it, Seokjin said.

Of the new four, Jeongguk was the clear outsider, the hard scales of his costume glittering, the style dependent upon the color-shift he asked Chaewon to create. Also unlike them, Jeongguk didn’t wear elbow-length gloves. His were black with grippy patches on the palms and fingertips.

Choosing to ignore that, Seokjin lifted the business card from the kitchen table and read the address to everyone again. The restaurant was on the outskirts of the city, almost in the industrial section.

“Are we taking the car?” Jeongguk asked.

“Yes,” Yoongi said. “I would rather have the option of a quick getaway. I can always get another car.”

Seokjin clapped him on the shoulder, feeling the hugeness of the moment. “Then, let’s go.”

They pulled on clothes to conceal their suits, hiding their masks in pockets or bags, then headed to street-level to climb into his mid-sized sedan. Seokjin sat in the back with Jeongguk again for comfort, knowing Yoongi wouldn’t mind his company up front this time. Tension choked them, along with a strange excitement. The idea that they could avenge Taehyung and maybe Namjoon felt heady. This would be Jeongguk’s first “big” baddie, and all-too personal to the others. Only Hoseok radiated calm, foreshadowing the storm to come.

There was no chatter as Yoongi followed the GPS, the temperature in the car rising as they drove closer. They’d decided to send Jeongguk and Seokjin inside, as they would be less recognizable and the best at crisis diversion. To maximize Jeongguk’s unwinding, they would be dropped off right at the door. If it was a trap, being able to zip back into the car could prevent a catastrophe. Otherwise, Hoseok and Yoongi would canvas the place for other entrances, prepared to jump in should Seokjin and Jeongguk need them.

The storefront was unremarkable, sandwiched between a shoe store and an abandoned building. When they exited the car, they found the Japanese restaurant to have more people inside than expected. The scents of teriyaki and roasting fish caused Jeongguk’s stomach to growl.

For a brief moment, Seokjin allowed himself to imagine that he’d brought Jeongguk there for a date. That left him feeling flustered, so he pushed the fantasy away.

Walking through the little entryway, they found themselves in a symmetrical restaurant where the patrons could see into the kitchen. It was divided down the middle with two hibachi grills on the left side.

The hostess rushed to the host’s booth from the back, wiping her hands on her hips.

“Hello. How can I assist you?”

“Table for two,” Seokjin said.

She gestured for them to sit back near the kitchen, then settled them with menus.

“Can I get you two anything to drink?”

Seokjin ordered a Coke, Jeongguk a water, and Seokjin scanned the menu while Jeongguk rose to check the bathroom. Hopefully Hoseok and Yoongi could see oddities in the alley outside the kitchen.

While waiting for Jeongguk, the waitress brought their drinks, and Seokjin watched her leave before dipping his pointer finger into his Coke, checking if the clear coat polish on his nail would change color. Nothing. He reached for the water—

The waitress walked away, and Jeonggukk said, “If we go into the bathroom, there’s a door like a closet as soon as you walk in. Someone comes out of it to grab you on your way out.”

Knowing now, for sure, there was something, Seokjin tensed and tried to think.

“I doubt there’s someone just in the closet. It must be attached to a secret hallway or have a connection to another building.”

He pulled his phone out to text Hoseok the update.

“Do I rewind until we’re back in the car?” Jeongguk whispered. “I feel if we tried to leave now, they’d be waiting for us there, too.”

Seokjin considered it. “No. We came here for answers. Maybe we can finally get some.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and they both tested them for drugs before drinking them. Seokjin let Jeongguk scan his menu first so they always had someone on lookout, but they were able to call their waitress back over and send her away without incident.

Yoongi sent him a text then: “We’re going into the abandoned building. Hold tight.”

It was the weirdest sting operation ever, as they ate their food, until a person’s thoughts caught Seokjin’s attention. He had successfully kept Seokjin’s attention off him until then, but it was hard to aim a tranquilizer gun without thinking about it.

“Give me five minutes,” Seokjin said. “Man behind me and to my left has a tranq.”

Taking another bite of his noodles, Seokjin wondered if they would see any action in the restaurant, when Jeongguk’s thoughts caught his attention.

Hyung. You told me the man behind you and to your left has a tranquilizer gun. I assume. You just said “tranq” and I guess that could also be pills—

Repressing the urge to snicker, Seokjin chewed slower, casting his mind toward the aforementioned man. He was focused on his food, grumbling about how the chicken was overdone – a smart way to stay fixated without outing himself to Seokjin.

“It all comes down to how many are in on this,” Seokjin murmured. “That’s the gamble.”

None of the thoughts focused on him, so Seokjin assumed no one had an enhanced hearing power.

We could take him out.

Seokjin hummed. Time was running down. It seemed like a better option to strike first.

“Alright.”

His right hand dropped to his pocket, fingers careful as he drew the taser out, steadying his breathing. Jeongguk watched as his left hand swept his spoon to the floor.

“Oh.” Seokjin shifted, but never pretended to grab it, allowing that distraction to grant him a moment.

He whipped around and aimed, holding his breath as he depressed the trigger, the two darts sticking to the man’s side as they sent localized bursts of electricity into him.

The man jerked, his body spasming, and Jeongguk jumped up from the table, prepared for other criminals.

Their waitress yelled in alarm, the other customers shrinking down in their seats, afraid, except for the stunned man’s tablemate. The woman jumped up with her water glass in hand and swung her arm in an arc, spraying Seokjin and Jeongguk with water. As soon as it touched them, it contracted, as if a giant fist wrapped around his middle.

Seokjin gasped, dropping the stun gun—

“It all comes down to how many are in on this,” Seokjin murmured. “That’s the gamble.”

None of the thoughts shifted, so Seokjin assumed no one had an enhanced hearing power.

The lady at his table is in with him. She’s more dangerous than him. Use the taser on her.

“Alright.” Seokjin exhaled.

He knocked his spoon to the ground with his left hand, his right hand on the taser in his pocket, and he stood and fired at the woman.

She jolted, body spasming as she collapsed. The man jumped up, hand going for something, and Jeongguk slid under the taser’s wires to stop him. Jeongguk jumped once he cleared the wires and punched the man in the jaw, causing him to fall back into the next table.

Jeongguk pulled metal handcuffs out of his back pocket and followed after the man, while Seokjin approached the woman. He had no idea what her power was, so to prevent any possible mishaps, he bound her wrists with zip ties.

“Hey!”

Someone rushed out from the kitchen, a hat keeping his hair off his sweaty forehead. Seokjin tensed, prepared to handle him, but he heard the man’s thoughts as he yelled.

“You can’t be doing this in my restaurant! Riff-raff the lot of you! Get out!”

I knew this would happen when I made that deal—

Seokjin needed to incapacitate the woman, but he stood, understanding he didn’t want his back to this man should he decide he could fight him.

“Whoever you made the deal with, the League can help you,” Seokjin said, using the official name for HQ.

The cook stiffened, thoughts spilling over and out.

“You’re—the mind reader.”

They said he might come. This could be valuable if they don’t already know.

Hearing the rip of duct tape, Seokjin allowed himself to focus fully on the proprietor, relieved Jeongguk was gagging the woman.

“Who said?” Seokjin took a threatening step toward the man.

The waitress shrieked, “Don’t you hurt him I’ll call the cops don’t you dare!” the words all running together.

Seokjin ignored her, his eyes narrowing. “Who did you pay for protection?”

Direct questions were harder to keep out of mind, but just as the man’s lips parted, the shrill ring of a cell phone cut him off.

Jeongguk answered it. “Hello?”

“We need back up.” Hoseok wasn’t yelling, but he sounded short of breath.

Swearing under his breath, Seokjin yanked his cellphone out of his back pocket and dialed the number for crisis intervention at HQ.

“What are you doing?” The owner demanded.

He ignored him, got a dispatcher on the phone, and rattled off the information and the location.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The owner said, grabbing Seokjin’s arm.

“If you attempt to free them, you put yourself at risk of arrest, too,” Seokjin replied, yanking free.

Jeongguk hung up his phone, lips pursed into a frown, and they turned toward the kitchen. Seokjin shuffled through his thoughts to save time, the pair of them pushing past the hysterical waitress, her thoughts like needles railing against Seokjin’s mind.

The alley leads into the other buildings, Jeongguk’s thoughts told him.

“Easier when you don’t have to talk, see?” Seokjin teased.

They slid past the two cooking, the men clearing the way after observing the way Seokjin and Jeongguk took down the two thugs in the other room.

I guess.

The cooks kept the door to the outside open, and they pushed past the screen door without any trouble, their eyes locating Yoongi’s car behind the abandoned building.

Strange desire swam through him, and as they climbed up the sagging stairs to the door, Seokjin’s hand brushed against Jeongguk’s hip.

Jeongguk cast him a look, thoughts scolding him for the inappropriate timing, before pivoting back on a foot to kick the door open.

It swung open, not locked, with the door frame appearing damaged from whatever Hoseok and Yoongi did to it. They charged past, uncaring, hearing scraping sounds and grunts echoing down the exposed hallways.

A door opened in front of them, and Jeongguk plowed into it, knocking himself silly while Seokjin rounded it and punched at face level. He hit someone’s teeth, feeling them cut his knuckles, and watched the aggressor stumble back, clutching at his face—

Seokjin and Jeongguk set a steady pace running down the hallway, but for some reason, Jeongguk counted the doorways, and when he found the specific one, he came to a jolting stop. The door opened in a burst, almost hitting them, and Jeongguk reeled back, kicking it closed again.

Someone grunted from the other side, and Jeongguk threw it open, punching the man in the jaw and watching him fall back with satisfaction.

“I’ll bind him. You go on,” Jeongguk said, already kneeling next to the man.

Not needing to be convinced, Seokjin continued, bursting into what must have been a main room when the building operated as a business.

Get down!

After years of working with Yoongi, Seokjin dropped now without another thought, gunshots ringing over his head, with chunks of concrete flaking down. He rolled behind the covered counter where Yoongi and Hoseok crouched under cover. Three men held up the opposite end of the room, one’s thoughts choked with pain, some bad burns covering his body.

The Chameleon’s not going to be happy, one of them complained. We need at least one of them and more just keep showing up.

The criminal thought through a few strategies but didn’t trust any of them. Seokjin’s head spun with the realization that he’d gotten a name and a goal.

“Their goal is capture,” Seokjin whispered.

“That explains why they bound one of my clones,” Hoseok said.

“Is he still over there?”

“Yeah.”

Clones didn’t have unique brains, so Seokjin couldn’t sense them. They also wouldn’t know what the men let slip around clone-Hoseok unless he managed to free himself without sustaining too much damage. It wasn’t like they could communicate telepathically with real-Hoseok.

“Well, the authorities are on their way. Stall?”

“I could also lob a flash bomb,” Yoongi said. He sounded reluctant, probably because any damage accrued by the copy would still feel like a phantom pain to the real Hoseok.

“They might start firing blindly,” Hoseok replied. “And this barricade isn’t exactly the sturdiest thing.”

A familiar mind touched Seokjin’s, and he murmured, “Be prepared. Jeongguk’s coming. We might be able to use the distraction he’ll cause.”

At that moment, Jeongguk paused at the corner leading into the room, unable to see them from their far position, and weighed his options. Seokjin felt a rush of pride when he charged into the room low, his body ducked just in case.

Two shots blasted to his right, and while Jeongguk got his bearings, Seokjin jumped up, pointed, and fired his taser where the shots came when they shot at him.

The pins pierced one of them, and as another aimed at Seokjin, Hoseok followed him, hands steady as he fired his tranquilizer gun.

His aim hadn’t deteriorated over the years; it pierced the man in an exposed part of his neck. The man’s expression contorted with rage, but his arms dipped, him firing a wild shot, way too close to Jeongguk.

As the drug worked its way through his system, a third man shrieked with pain from the fire ball Yoongi lobbed at him. To their detriment, a fourth and fifth man fired at them as well, and a dart lodged in Seokjin’s arm. His suit kept it from sliding right into him, so Seokjin figured he might have a full minute or two, if the drug was even strong enough for him.

“Hyung,” two voices shrilled in his ears, and he waved them off.

“Focus on them,” Seokjin said, the words slurring a bit.

So, that answered that.

"Don't rewind," Yoongi said.

"What? Hyung's hit!"

"With gunfire, it's too risky. We're in a safe position right now."

They fell into a new stalemate as Jeongguk and Yoongi argued, but after another minute, Seokjin could confirm the dose was enough for him. His thoughts slid up and down, never able to stop where they should, until he couldn't see anything.

***

He woke in one of HQ's hospital beds, a nurse checking his vitals.

"Oh, good. You're awake."

Her voice was muffled through her surgical mask, and it compelled him to ask, "Is there something else wrong with me? Something contagious?"

"No," a male voice answered him. "She's new and has to do everything by the book."

Seokjin chuckled, but it died quickly once the soreness of his body registered to him.

"God. What was in the dose?"

It was a mistake to ask; the doctor rattled off a slew of compounds, explaining why they had the effect on him they did.

"Sorry, I actually don't understand any of that," Seokjin said. "Am I okay?"

The doctor cast him a disappointed frown. "Yes. You'll be fine once you get it out of your system. You're free to go home as long as someone else drives, or you could take a room here."

Without meaning to, Seokjin ignored him, asking, "Are my friends alright?"

He had lost the doctor completely, demoting himself from someone who might know about drugs and compounds to a typical, block-headed hero who only cared about the clichés. Seokjin almost snapped at the doctor to stop thinking those things about him, but some long-standing instinct caused him to hold his tongue.

"They're all fine. Two people are waiting for you."

Seokjin frowned. Two? But, he was sure there would be some explanation. After all, a glance at the clock revealed it was only around two o'clock – way too early for Taehyung to even be off work. Someone might have notified him, but Seokjin wouldn't bet on it. Not with how careful Yoongi liked to be.

After running through Seokjin's vitals, the doctor detached him from his IV and told him to visit the secretary for his paperwork. The doctor shook his hand, his fake smile pleasant enough to fool anyone who couldn't read his mind. Seokjin couldn't wait to get away from him.

When he stumbled into the waiting room, Jeongguk jumped up first, his eyes wide. Seokjin could hear his thoughts from down the hall, the strands a mess of worries and anxiety. Hoseok, by contrast, worried in a single, low hum, though it wasn't focused just on Seokjin.

Still slightly out of it, Seokjin witnessed the events in the waiting room in shards: Hoseok texting Yoongi, who'd stepped out to fetch them food, and Jeongguk charging at him, panic and relief twin in his mind.

Jeongguk threw himself at Seokjin, arms going around him in a tight embrace.

"Hyung," he muttered into his shoulder.

"It was only a tranquilizer dart," Seokjin said, voice soothing.

His arms wrapped around Jeongguk as well, holding him close.

You don't know what it's like to see you lying on the ground, unresponsive.

"Clearly you didn't wake up to pee any of those times we shared a bed."

"Excuse you," Jeongguk sounded fake affronted. "You're so needy. When I would leave, you would whine. Don't compare this to that."

Seokjin laughed, his heart feeling lighter. "I'm sorry, Guk."

Only then did he tune back into Hoseok, wondering why his old friend hadn't joined them, and then he heard his surprised thoughts.

They're close. Are they together? How long have they— I had no idea, Seokjin didn't tell me.

Heat flamed through Seokjin's cheeks, and he stepped away from Jeongguk with a shy clearing of his throat.

"So, what's the update?" He addressed both of them. "Do we have any henchmen in interrogation?"

"Dramatic as always." Hoseok smiled at him as he walked over. "Yes. Everyone we tranquilized is here, including those two you and Guk cuffed."

"I'm surprised they stuck around."

"Yeah, well, they didn't get far with their hands bound behind them."

"Have we found anything out?"

"So far? We only know their goal was to 'collect' us. And by us, I mean you, me, and Yoongi." He patted Jeongguk on the back. "He was to be brought in if they got him, but he wasn't priority. That's the only thing that sticks out so far - the word 'collect.'"

It slid over Seokjin like an unpleasant smell.

"It's creepy. Like we're dolls or something."

"Hoseok and me, maybe," Yoongi called from the doorway. "Good to see you're not dead, hyung."

"Fuck you too. I don't suppose you have food for me?"

Yoongi shrugged. "You were unconscious. We can go back to the cafeteria."

"Or you can ditch that, and we can go out to eat?" Seokjin asked.

"Do you really think you're in any condition for that?"

"I just don't want takeout."

They bickered about food, Jeongguk and Hoseok picking at the cafeteria sandwiches Yoongi brought them until Seokjin called them both traitors. It was normal.

Normal as they drove to a KFC, picked up enough chicken for them all, then retreated to Seokjin's apartment. They ate together, but as Seokjin's exhaustion began to chip at him, they ushered him to bed.

"Someone should stay with him until Taehyung gets home," Hoseok said.

Seokjin could tell he would volunteer, but before he could, Jeongguk blurted out, "I'll stay."

Hoseok still might have offered, if not for the scene he'd witnessed earlier. His knowing gaze swept over them, and his thoughts were targeted:

Hyung. You’re explaining this once you're better.

He nodded, the slightest jerk of his head, and said, "You two alright to leave me with Guk?"

Yoongi snorted. "You kidding? I'm exhausted. If I don't have to play babysitter, the better for us both. I'd fall asleep and you would asphyxiate in your sleep."

They followed him to bed like ducklings, all ready to catch him if he fell, and he quipped, "If I wasn't so touched, I'd be offended you all think I'm so fragile."

"You got shot today. Let them fuss," Yoongi said, like he wasn't.

"With a tranquilizer." But his protests were empty – in a way, they had two years to make up for.

Maybe he was still loopy. When he laid down, Yoongi tucking him in to be obnoxious, he reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Yoongi. I missed you. You and Hoseok."

He tried to look at Hoseok, but his head lolled against the pillow, too heavy for him to lift.

"I missed you guys so much."

To his mortification, tears budded in his eyes. The next day, he would write them off to exhaustion, but in the moment, he felt the piercing grief of not just Namjoon, but the anger that drove him from his two other best friends in the world.

Yoongi squeezed his hand, eyes a little too bright.

"I missed you, too."

He cleared out shortly after that, not liking crying in front of others, and Hoseok took his place at Seokjin's side. Tear tracks wet his cheeks, but he wasn't crying anymore.

Hoseok considered Seokjin, letting his thoughts speak for him:

You're an asshole to never have texted me, but I get it. I just hope things can stay fixed.

"They will." Seokjin lightly punched Hoseok's arm. "I won't let you get away so easily again."

The goodbyes sounded sweet, which would have concerned Seokjin if he'd had enough time to process those things, but they cleared out quickly.

Jeongguk sat at the foot of his bed, a soft look in his eyes, and suddenly Seokjin wondered what this alone time would mean for them.

"We need to stop meeting like this," Seokjin joked.

"In your bed?" Jeongguk fired back.

It had been a cheesy, old joke to begin with, and Seokjin didn't know how to reply.

He cleared his throat. "No more injuries."

Neither of them mentioned that the closer they got to whomever had been fucking with them, the more likely these situations would be. It was too obvious.

"I'd ask if you wanted to play some games," Jeongguk said, "but I feel like that would be too easy."

Seokjin shot him an affronted scowl. "Excuse you. I could play you and kick your ass while unconscious. No respect."

Jeongguk rubbed Seokjin's calf, his expression amused as he watched him. Fondness swirled through his mind, and it was doing things to Seokjin. Things he wanted to blame on his impaired state, though he couldn't say the drugs still affected him. If anything, it was exhaustion and the heaviness in the room that came from knowing they were the only two in the apartment.

"Do you want to watch something?" Seokjin asked. He considered sleeping, but the thought of sending Jeongguk away felt wrong.

"Like what?"

He managed to find something that interested them both, Seokjin concealing his victorious smirk when he coaxed Jeongguk to lay beside him to watch. About halfway through, his heart calmed enough that he dropped to sleep. When he woke, it was to a wild panic at the empty bed.

Shooting up from under his covers, he charged into the main room, eyes as wild as his hair must look. Taehyung sat on the couch, chatting with Jeongguk.

He whipped around at the sound of the door slamming, Taehyung's face lighting up, though Seokjin didn't even see it. At the sound, Jeongguk sat up from where he had been draped across their couch.

"Hey!" Taehyung's mind pulsed with relief, as if he hadn't been able to believe Seokjin was okay until he saw him.

"Hey."

Swearing to be less of an asshole to his friend, Seokjin gathered Taehyung into a tight hug when he reached him.

"Sorry everything's been so crazy for you."

"Not at all." Taehyung's eyes gleamed with fever. "I never thought I'd get to experience anything like this with my shitty power."

When no retort came from anywhere else in the apartment, Seokjin said, "No Jimin tonight?"

"No. What makes you say that?"

"He would have yelled at you for that comment."

Pleased color flooded Taehyung's cheeks, and he glanced away. He didn't say it aloud, but he knew Seokjin was right.

"Anyway. Since you're okay, there's leftovers on the stove."

Taehyung gestured, his embarrassment causing his motions to be stilted.

"Thanks."

Seokjin gathered himself some food, starving now that he'd thought about it, and settled along his two friends. They talked about Taehyung's day, Seokjin and Jeongguk listening to his stories, the night strange in its normalcy. Even so, the questions compounded, starting and ending with Seokjin's curiosity toward Jeongguk. Why was he still there?

"Did you want me to walk you home?" Seokjin asked, once it started to get late.

"Ah, yeah, if you don't mind." Jeongguk smiled, his mind buckling with nerves.

Trying to pin down what caused the nerves was fruitless, Seokjin shocked as Jeongguk mislead him for the first time. He wouldn't let Jeongguk know, but he was impressed.

Jeongguk waited while Seokjin got dressed, and they said goodnight to Taehyung there, in case he went to bed before Seokjin returned.

He might have imagined it, but Taehyung seemed to smirk at him as they bowed out. His mind gave nothing away, though, so Seokjin wrote it off and focused on the diminishing people on the streets. After all, the whole point of him accompanying Jeongguk was for safety.

Whatever they talked about didn't matter. It was light, fluffy, background noise for anyone who might tail them.

Seokjin didn't realize there might be ulterior motives on Jeongguk's part until they reached his apartment building, even the steps up to it reflecting glowing with reflected lights. He faced Jeongguk with a smile.

"Thank you for staying with me."

"Of course, hyung."

This time, there was no big pause as Jeongguk stepped toward him, their lips meeting and arms wrapping around each other. They needed to talk about it at some point, needed to figure out—

"Hyung," he murmured against his lips, "would you like to come upstairs?"

Time stopped, a late-night breeze tugging at the ends of their hair. Seokjin wondered if this was the best time, if his stint in the hospital wing of HQ prompted this, but he sensed no uncertainty in Jeongguk. If anything, he'd been thinking about it for a while.

"Yes," he said.

Jeongguk took his hand and guided him up, Seokjin feeling his heartbeat where they touched. Again, he wondered if they shouldn't talk about this, if jumping in was a bad idea.

Once in the elevator, Seokjin found his arms full of Jeongguk, his lips on his, sweet and tantalizing. He wanted this, wanted Jeongguk, but it still worried him.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

The elevator dinged and Jeongguk drew away. His expression didn't waver.

"Yes, hyung. Are you worried?"

"Yes. I don't want to take advantage of you."

Exhaling through his nose, Jeongguk gestured for them to exit before the elevator door closed on them.

"You can be so full of yourself sometimes, hyung."

He guided them down the hall toward his room, their shoes sinking into the plush carpet as they went.

"I can't have feelings for you, right? It has to be some idol worship."

Seokjin bristled at his tone. "I didn't say that."

"But you're thinking it. You're feeling so guilty, like I can't decide things for myself."

Jeongguk wheeled around, stopping him on the doormat of apartment 608.

"I'm telling you, despite the rude things you say sometimes, I like kissing you for other reasons. Did I jerk off to you when I was younger? Yes. Does that invalidate our relationship now?"

Pausing, Jeongguk eyed him, waiting for an answer.

"Well," Seokjin trailed off. He'd had sex with a fan before, but he hadn't done it since, the sensation of hero-worship too much for him. "I think it's developed authentically. You did hate me for a bit."

"I never hated you, hyung," his voice softened. "I thought you thought I was an idiot. The only thing worse than sleeping with a fan is having an idol who thinks you're incompetent."

Seokjin moved forward, turning the air intimate between them. "I don't think you're an idiot."

"I know." Jeongguk smiled, a secret little thing. "The fact that you just did this, the fact that you followed me up here, I know."

That could have been enough, as Jeongguk twisted around to punch in the key code to his apartment. But, as they pushed in, Seokjin found the words welling up in him.

He let the door swing shut behind him, Jeongguk clicking on the lights to his one-room, before kicking his shoes off. Seokjin spared the briefest glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows and wondered how much the neighbors might see.

"Guk," he said.

Jeongguk turned back to him, questions in his eyes, and Seokjin closed the distance between them, hands rising to rest on his cheeks. Just like the first day they'd met, their softness and shape bewitched him.

"Yeah?"

"I know it's a culmination of a lot of things, but you know the real reason I kissed you?"

"Because you were jealous?" Jeongguk's eyes shone with mischief.

Scoffing, Seokjin squeezed his face a bit, just to hear him protest.

"Because you made me feel less lonely."

To his mortification, his throat tightened, like he might shed some tears, and he cleared his throat.

"With my friends, I'd been a lone wolf for a long time, and I'm not cut out for that. I missed them, but I was too stuck in my rut to reach out. Things have begun to feel right again when we we’re all together. And you can be annoying and a pain in the ass—"

Jeongguk cut him off with a kiss, the touch tender, like he understood where Seokjin had been going before he insulted him.

I may have been mad at you, but you helped me more in my life than you ever did from my computer screen.

His thoughts curled through Seokjin's head, as affectionate as he himself felt.

Are you reassured enough now to have sex with me?

Seokjin broke the kiss with a wild guffaw, unable to hold back his laughter at Jeongguk's lame attempt at a booty call.

"What?" Jeongguk's cheeks blazed red. "You're the one trying to define the relationship when I invited you up to my apartment. It's super clear what I think our relationship is."

Shaking his head, Seokjin kicked his shoes off then stepped up onto the headed floor, smiling as Jeongguk did the same.

"I didn't want any of that 'are-we-fucking-with-no-strings' bullshit. I'm too old for that."

Jeongguk veered over toward his bed, casting Seokjin an unimpressed frown.

"You're not that old, hyung."

"Gee, way to reassure me, Jeongguk."

They met in another kiss, Jeongguk’s hands falling to Seokjin’s hips, too impatient to let the kiss linger. Jeongguk licked over his upper lip, and Seokjin let out a hard breath. One of the most startling things about intimacy was that Seokjin’s own thoughts would become so scattered he could no longer read minds. It would require stopping, and that was crazy.

Guided by Jeongguk, they sat on the side of the bed, Jeongguk’s hands picking up his chest like they had all the time in the world. The quiet excitement sent a rush of shyness through Seokjin. He laughed when Jeongguk cradled his chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples.

“They’re not sensitive, sorry.”

Jeongguk pouted at him, and Seokjin considered teasing him about it, but he swallowed the words. He followed his apology with another kiss to the corner of Jeongguk’s lips, their knees bumping.

Then Seokjin grabbed his shirt and tore it up over his head, letting it drop to the floor.

Hesitating to appreciate the sight, Jeongguk followed his lead, his ripped chest an attraction. Seokjin touched his shoulder, coaxing him further back onto the bed.

“Should I get a condom now?”

Seokjin laughed, a defense mechanism, and said, “Might as well.”

He watched Jeongguk stumble to his feet, the air taunt with the excitement flowing from them both. In a moment, fondness swallowed Seokjin, who loved knowing his partner felt the same way.

The lube already sat on his end table, it the size of a large lotion bottle, but Jeongguk needed to dig through his end table for a condom. Again, Seokjin thought about teasing him, but the words drowned in his softer feelings.

“Take your pants off,” Seokjin said instead.

Jeongguk froze. He set the condom next to the lube, hands falling to his sweats, the veins in his hands and arms prominent as he worked his fingers under the elastic waistband.

Seokjin swallowed.

“Off.”

Jeongguk obeyed, revealing a tight, athletic pair of briefs, and Seokjin smiled because unless he saw wrong, he owned the same brand. He told Jeongguk, who let out a short laugh.

“Should I take these off so you can compare?”

Shy and suggestive together, Jeongguk’s fingers skimmed his hips, teasing, and Seokjin agreed. Those came off next, showing Seokjin his first nude view of Jeongguk.

“You’re cut like an underwear model,” he commented.

“Thank you. And you?”

“I probably am.”

He knew that wasn’t what Jeongguk meant, so he loosed a quick, nervous breath, then stood to work open his fly, revealing the red version of the same briefs.

They shared a secret smile between them before Seokjin kicked his jeans and briefs to the floor, joining Jeongguk and allowing him to examine his body.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Part of Seokjin wanted to protest, but the word seeped into him. Not handsome or god-like, as Seokjin thought when laying eyes on Jeongguk’s body in full.

“Come here.”

Seokjin reached for him, wanting to close the distance and bury himself in Jeongguk. He wanted to touch.

Jeongguk must have seen the desire because he didn’t argue. He stepped into Seokjin’s space, hands falling to their usual position, but Seokjin jumped ahead in the story, hands sliding back over Jeongguk’s ass.

They fit together well, and Seokjin leaned in to capture Jeongguk’s lips in another kiss, as if to reassure him. His hands shifted down Jeongguk’s calves before tightening, as if to lift him.

Once Jeongguk caught on and wrapped his arms around Seokjin’s neck, he did, and he deposited him on the mattress. It was a weak excuse to fill his arms with the other man and then to get him on the bed, but the plaintive wanting in Jeongguk’s gaze soothed him.

He climbed onto the bed after him, hands skimming up Jeongguk’s calves before spreading them, baring him in a painfully intimate way.

Now, he browsed Jeongguk’s thoughts, afraid to continue, feeling how he could get lost in his own wants.

God oh god he’s touching me he sees me he’s so beautiful—

Blushing, Seokjin said, “Jeongguk, are you still okay with this?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. Yes.”

With his confirmation, Seokjin shuffled forward, his eyes dipping to Jeongguk’s cock. It wasn’t quite soft anymore, but they hadn’t done nearly enough to produce an erection. They would have to correct that.

Seokjin reached and took Jeongguk’s cock in hand, then leaned down and kissed the head. He hadn’t set out to do that, but he’d wanted to touch, and it felt right.

“Hyung—”

He ducked his head, kissed further down, then further, until he was scattering kisses over the base of Jeongguk’s growing erection. When he could feel Jeongguk squirming beneath him, Seokjin took the head into his mouth.

Jeongguk whined, coaxing him on, tongue first pressing flat to the slit, before sliding down to work the sensitive underside of the head.

“Jin hyung.” Jeongguk’s voice sounded strained, and Seokjin took pity on him.

Taking him further down, Seokjin stimulated Jeongguk by gently sucking, then began to bob his head. He couldn’t quite meet his fist, but it had been a long time since he’d liked someone enough to suck their dick.

Hands found his shoulders, pushed gently, and Seokjin’s power reached out, plucking the motivation from Jeongguk.

Hyung, up. I don’t want to come too soon.

Grumbling, he drew back after giving the head one last lick. He felt like a tease, which pleased him, and he smiled up at Jeongguk, who was looking at him like he was seeing him anew.

That was—wow.

Seokjin hummed, kissed his hipbone, and Jeongguk found his words again.

“Come up here.”

Obeying, Seokjin shifted up Jeongguk’s body, the warm air between their bodies tantalizing as their lips met in another, hungrier kiss.

Jeongguk’s legs shifted beneath him, and then he felt Jeongguk’s leg against his cock, hard from secondhand pleasure. Another perk of reading minds while sucking a dick.

He let out a soft noise of pleasure into the kiss, hips rolling once to rub himself against Jeongguk’s leg.

Who’s topping?

When Seokjin didn’t react to that, Jeongguk repeated it out loud.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Seokjin said.

Jeongguk’s thoughts raced, covering everything from their ages to how Jeongguk was spread out against the bed. He’d thought Seokjin would demand to top, and the fact he trusted him enough either way softened him like butter.

“You can top,” he said.

It surprised Seokjin, who could have sworn Jeongguk would jump at the chance to take the position that would feel better. He didn’t want to ask why and disrespect his choice, but he could already hear the answer in his thoughts: Hot or not, he didn’t feel worthy of topping one of his heroes. Along with their ages, it felt like disrespecting Seokjin.

“Are you sure?” He tried to protest.

“Hyung. It’s okay. It feels right for the first time.” A naughty smile curled at his lips. “And there’s always next time.”

Again with the “next time,” but it held the same effect as before.

This time, Seokjin leaned down to kiss him, open-mouthed and messy, growing more and more eager as Jeongguk’s arms wound around him. That could have lasted all night, but Seokjin felt Jeongguk’s growing impatience and grabbed for the big bottle of lube. He pumped some into his palm, hating to admit how much handier that was than a squeeze bottle.

After a silent promise to ask Jeongguk where he bought his lube, he shifted back down Jeongguk’s body. He planted a kiss over a nipple, then froze at the whine that produced.

“Oh. So that’s why you assumed my nipples were sensitive.”

“Shut up!”

Seokjin snickered, then rerouted his plans, sealing his mouth again over the sensitive bud. His tongue flicked the nipple, before he gave it a slow suck, teasing it as Jeongguk grabbed at his shoulders. Delectable, desperate noises left Jeongguk, and only when Seokjin could feel him shake did he pull back. Then he found himself back where he’d blown Jeongguk, with a whole new goal in mind this time.

“Get a pillow under your hips,” Seokjin said.

Once Jeongguk did, Seokjin proceeded, left hand settling on Jeongguk’s thigh while his right hand dropped between Jeongguk’s legs. He rubbed at his dry entrance, just to feel Jeongguk flex under his fingers, before he lubed a finger up and slid it into him.

Jeongguk inhaled, the sound careful, and Seokjin gave him moment before flexing it. He worked him with the single digit until Jeongguk seemed ready for another, fingering him with careful pulls, grinning as he began to relax.

When he found him to be properly warmed up, Seokjin pulled his fingers free and gave Jeongguk’s cock another wet kiss.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk grabbed the condom, but when Seokjin thought he would hand it to him, Jeongguk hesitated.

“Can I?”

Surprised, Seokjin smiled. “Of course.”

Shuffling up to lean on his calves, Jeongguk licked his lips and tore open the foil packet, eyes on Seokjin’s dick. It would almost be creepy if it wasn’t so endearing.

He touched Seokjin like he was precious, but he rectified that with a playful kiss of his own on the head, before positioning the condom.

Seokjin shook his head, fond, as Jeongguk rolled the condom down him, slow and careful.

“Where do you want me?” Jeongguk asked.

“Is it too much to ask for you to be on top?”

His eyes gleamed with the mental image; Seokjin didn’t mind doggy style, but not being able to see Jeongguk while he fucked him felt like a travesty. A waste of a magnificent man.

“Of course not, hyung,” Jeongguk scoffed.

I’m strong enough, not a baby.

In a tender moment, Seokjin leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“I know you’re not a baby.”

Seokjin shifted to the side, sitting back and letting his legs stretch out in front of him. He didn’t say anything while he waited.

Jeongguk came to him, climbed into his lap, and positioned himself, hovering over Seokjin’s cock. His hands settled on Seokjin’s shoulders, and he squeezed once he steadied himself. Breath came faster as he felt Seokjin’s hardness beneath him.

“Are you ready?” Seokjin asked.

One hand went to Jeongguk’s hip, the other to the shaft of his cock, prepared to fuck him. He felt Jeongguk inhale as much as he heard him, preparing.

He positioned himself and pressed up into Jeongguk, tugging him down once he found the right angle. All the air left Seokjin’s lungs in a gasp of pleasure, which stopped as Jeongguk dug his nails into his shoulders.

Hang on hang on hang on.

The words rang out loud as well as in his head, Jeongguk needing time to adjust. Seokjin’s hands braced Jeongguk, helping hold him up as he regulated his breathing and then finished sinking down on Seokjin’s cock.

Seokjin swore, the word leaving him so fast he couldn’t repeat what he said, and Jeongguk’s thoughts flooded him, filling him. He couldn’t understand them, but he knew when Jeongguk was ready to move.

Planting his heels, Seokjin’s hands tightened on Jeongguk’s hips, and he fucked up into him. He tested the waters, then set a pace that would stimulate them both without him pulling a muscle.

Jeongguk closed his eyes at first, but after he adapted to the stretch, he dug his heels in and began helping him, fucking himself down to meet Seokjin’s thrusts.

Pleasure assaulted Seokjin from both sides, and before he knew it, his body acted on instinct, thrusting into Jeongguk and holding himself back from coming as he reveled in the sensations. It was one thing to know Jeongguk was feeling good, another to literally tell how good he felt.

He moaned for Jeongguk, thoughts dazed, the room hot and their bodies sticking together when they touched. His mind could barely hold all of Jeongguk in its clutches at once, much less all of him like this.

Jeongguk’s movements grew more desperate, his hips dropping faster and faster, grinding down where their bodies met. Seokjin clung to him for dear life, feeling his orgasm approaching, no longer accepting his deterrence.

“Jeongguk,” he begged, warned.

Meeting his gaze, Jeongguk smirked, delight filling him like energy as he tried to maintain a harder, faster pace.

“I want you to come,” he said.

Seokjin moaned his name as Jeongguk repeated himself, supplicating as he begged for him. Unable to hold back, Seokjin’s hips stuttered to a halt as he filled the condom, panting like he’d run the most satisfying marathon.

Even Jeongguk, who hadn’t come yet, was staring at him with satisfaction gleaming in his large, dark eyes. Seokjin wanted to kiss him but knew there was a more pressing matter first.

He took a deep breath, then said, “Guk, I need you off me.”

Feeling how that started him, Seokjin added, “Lay back against the pillows. I want to make you come too.”

Jeongguk nodded, reassured, and Seokjin pulled out, then watched as Jeongguk shifted on shaky legs to follow Seokjin’s request.

Somehow, spread out, he looked almost as good as he had bouncing on his cock, and Seokjin chased after him, finding his place between Jeongguk’s legs one last time. Hands buried in his hair, Jeongguk sensing what he would do before he sank down, taking Jeongguk’s erection back into his mouth one last time.

Unlike earlier when he’d been getting acquainted, now Seokjin fucked his face down, wanting to get Jeongguk to orgasm so they could cuddle. He sucked, letting Jeongguk guide him when his hips started to cant up, and he lost himself in Jeongguk’s thoughts. Seokjin almost choked once or twice, but he could lose himself in Jeongguk, allowing Jeongguk to use him as he preferred.

So good hyung oh so good I can’t I can’t—

He could feel Jeongguk’s orgasm building, and he let himself gag a bit, for the stimulation.

“Yes,” Jeongguk gasped, “yes hyung oh—”

Seokjin swallowed when he came until it became too much, then pulled back, letting the excess white dribble down his chin. He wiped it off with an arm, proud and content as he looked down at Jeongguk, taking in his heaving chest with pleasure. More than anything, he wanted to kiss him.

After a few moments, Jeongguk looked up and saw something in his eyes.

“Hyung?”

“Hm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Surprise lit his words. “Nothing at all.”

Tugging and tying off the condom, Seokjin dropped it onto the floor then crawled up beside Jeongguk. It was too hot in the room for them to cuddle, so he laid beside Jeongguk, just looking at him.

Once Jeongguk caught his breath, he got up to turn on the air conditioner and throw out Seokjin’s condom, casting him a disapproving frown, before climbing back into bed. Only then did Seokjin wind his arms around Jeongguk, drawing Jeongguk’s back to his chest.

Seokjin glowed, and it might be from the sex, but the question asking Jeongguk to be his boyfriend flowed just out of reach. If he still felt this way in the morning, he just might be able to grab it. Whatever sex he thought he’d have with Jeongguk, Seokjin never would have imagined how soft it would turn out to be – but after reflecting on their day, it was the only way sex could fit.

“You know,” Jeongguk said. “Once, when I was younger, I would rewind to right before I came so I could come three, four times in a row. It was the most mentally draining thing I think I’ve ever done with my power.”

Seokjin let out a disgusted noise and swatted at Jeongguk’s chest, listening to the shrill giggle and feeling annoyed with himself for his choice in men.

***

The next morning, he woke to the smell of brewing coffee.

He smacked his lips, irritated Jeongguk would leave him in the bed like that, and ventured in for a shower just to spite him.

When he came out, completely nude, Jeongguk waited for him with a pair of clear boxers, eyes fixed on Seokjin’s. Only the red tint to his cheeks, and his thoughts, gave him away.

“I made you breakfast,” he said.

Jeongguk hadn’t meant to, but his voice softened as he spoke, and heat climbed Seokjin’s chest as he dressed himself.

“Thank you.”

They ate in silence, the sounds of their chopsticks clinking off the bowls the only noise besides the creeping city ambiance from outside. Seokjin cast occasional glances at Jeongguk, giddy and nervous but unwilling to act, until Jeongguk asked, “What are we?”

“Huh?”

“What are we?” Jeongguk repeated, softer. “Was this just for fun?”

Seokjin considered it, teeth worrying his lower lip.

“It wasn’t meant to be for me. I like you.”

He tried to catch Jeongguk’s eyes from across the table, smiling a bit when Jeongguk held his for only a second. His thoughts fritzed, replaying Seokjin’s words over and over. Jeongguk considered rewinding the moment to hear it fresh once more.

“If you do that, I might retract my offer.”

“What’s your offer?”

“To be my boyfriend.”

Jeongguk’s jaw dropped before he could stop it, and Seokjin grinned.

“You’re just saying that for the reaction.”

“Am not.” Seokjin sniffed. “What if you said yes, and it was a joke? I’m not that mean.”

Scenarios ran through Jeongguk’s mind, bewilderment and excitement swirling into a vortex that consumed him. Seokjin would never admit it, but it made him want to kiss Jeongguk.

“So, will you be my boyfriend?”

More panic, more nerves, more excitement.

“Yes.”

He met Seokjin’s gaze with a shy smile. Seokjin took his hand, promising that no matter how cheesy it would look, he would kiss him properly after breakfast.

Chapter Text

Their bubble lasted a few more hours in Jeongguk’s apartment before Seokjin’s phone began buzzing so much they could no longer ignore it.

Stifling a sigh, sensing the fight it would cause if he didn’t answer, he picked it up after registering the name.

 “Hyung. There’s been a sighting.”

He stiffened. The lack of reprimand in Hoseok’s tone told him everything.

“Where?”

After getting the information, he shot up from Jeongguk’s bed, scrambling for his clothes.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asked.

“Namjoon. He’s been spotted. Get dressed.”

Jeongguk paused but obeyed, his thoughts asking for him.

Do you need to go home and change first?

“You didn’t come on my clothes,” Seokjin said. “I can deal with a little embarrassment.”

They managed to leave within a few minutes, Jeongguk’s suit concealed under clothes, his trench coat over everything despite the heat.

Seokjin hailed a taxi, which got them to HQ in about twenty minutes with traffic, and they stumbled up to surveillance, Yoongi and Hoseok already there.

A gas station’s cameras were frozen on an ordinary scene. Each screen showed each of the six different angles. The woman on the surveillance team hit play, and they watched a black sedan pull up to a pump. One person got out to pump, while another headed into the store. Screen #5 showed the figure when he stepped into the lit room, and the world slowed as Seokjin’s gaze raked over the figure.

He wore a black ball cap and a long, dark coat, but the lankiness of his body looked familiar, and once he approached the cashier to purchase cigarettes, the features were clear enough to be a sound guess.

“This was deliberate,” the surveillance woman said, once Namjoon returned to the car and they drove away. “If someone’s been missing for two years, and they already sent you those bait photos, this is meant to call you to this area.”

“It could be a trap,” Yoongi said.

“It’s definitely a trap,” Hoseok said.

“A reconnaissance team is set to comb the area in about an hour,” the woman said to Seokjin and Jeongguk. “Your teammates have already approved it.”

“That’s fine.”

It stung, knowing they wouldn’t be out there looking, but that’s what this mysterious person wanted. For whatever reason, they wanted to trap more of the original team.

“It could be an illusion,” Seokjin said to them, after they left Surveillance to make a game plan. “Something a villain created to send us into a frenzy.”

They’d all been thinking that since those pictures with Namjoon, but until that moment, none wanted to admit it. But, after being shot, Seokjin was done playing this game. Surveillance could take care of this, and they could take further steps once they knew where to proceed.

The woman replayed the tape for them twice more, and by the final time, anger replaced grief and shock. Whatever these appearances meant, they would end this soon.

They parted ways when it became clear all they could do was wait. Hoseok’s thoughts expressed a longing. He might be patient, but he was going stir-crazy. Yoongi could outlast the apocalypse if needed, and even Hoseok couldn’t match that. Seokjin and Jeongguk decided to patrol while waiting, their ringers on the loudest settings.

Morning morphed into night. The patrols went through a shift change, and Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jeongguk debated taking rooms at HQ until progress was made. All four returned to their apartments to fetch supplies when it happened.

Seokjin’s cellphone rang while he wrapped his toiletries in plastic bags.

He almost dropped his phone as he scrambled to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Kim Seokjin?” It was one of the night secretaries. “We have bad news.”

He froze in place, hand clenching into a fist as she spoke: Two of their scouts were found over an hour away, not remembering how they’d gotten there.

“These were the people searching in the south industrial district,” the secretary said. “So, we have an idea where to send the operation. If you’d like to be a part of the team, we’d ask you to be back as soon as possible.”

“Of course.”

Taking a steadying breath, Seokjin splashed some water on his face, ignoring how his hands shook as he brought his unnecessary overnight bag and locked up. His thoughts took him far away from the mechanics of catching a bus. In another few hours, they might find some definitive proof, or they might find nothing. Those patrols might have been unlucky.

Hoseok already waited for him in the Fieldwork office, and Jeongguk joined about ten minutes later. According to Hoseok, Yoongi ran to the bathroom, but as time compounded, Yoongi texted Hoseok that he was feeling sick and that he went to the nurse’s wing.

“I’ll catch up once I get some meds or something.”

Worry flickered through them, but after a little more correspondence, Yoongi convinced them. A smaller team would wait behind for him, when he was ready to go.

They dressed in their suits. Seokjin would like to say he felt some greater purpose coursing through him, but he didn’t entirely believe anything would come of this. He’d lived through Namjoon’s disappearance once and his limits for disappointment had been set. He would need a personal encounter for this to stop feeling like smoke and mirrors.

The drive to the industrial side of town took about ten minutes, but as they directed to the correct section, tension began to build. Two other superheroes accompanied them—one familiar with just Seokjin and an elder hero who knew the group.

Soyeon, the younger of the two, was the first person Seokjin’d met in a long time whose thoughts he couldn’t hear. She might have joined in the last year, but her negation power made her one of the most useful in the field when apprehending those with dangerous powers.

Junghwa, the elder, spoke into an earpiece, her gentle cadence something to focus on beyond the gray streets. Seokjin wondered what about Namjoon stripped the colors from the days, wondered if that kind of thing could go away if they found him here alive and well.

They arrived at the edge of the district, Yoongi parking in a small lot behind an administration building. HQ called earlier to approve the unconventional parking, so “towed car” wouldn’t add to their pile of concerns.

Seokjin wasn’t sure whether to prepare for a battle or not, and despite saying he was used to hoping and being let down, this distress must have shown, because Jeongguk took his hand.

He glanced at Jeongguk, some coil in him loosening as he looked into his boyfriend’s eyes.

“If he’s here, we’ll find him,” Jeongguk said.

The words should have been empty but hearing the determination in his voice reminded Seokjin of an anime. In this moment of sadness, Seokjin wanted to laugh.

“We’ll do our damnedest to,” Seokjin agreed.

Hoseok joined them, a worried frown pinching his brows.

“Yoongi’s still sick. I’m not sure it’s a coincidence.”

“You think it’s sabotage?”

“I don’t know.”

It sounded ridiculous to Seokjin, but this villain was out-of-the-box. So far, it was the first they’d dealt with like this. When things got this personal, it was usually an ex of some kind, and easy enough to devise. This, if they’d taken Namjoon for two years, would be the largest scale operation against a superhero ever.

They split into teams of three to cover two separate roads. It looked strange enough to have three heroes trekking down an industrial road, but six would send up major flags.

Searching lasted for an hour, then they switched roads. Halfway down the next, Seokjin’s phone buzzed with a text from Hoseok.

A blurry video with the time stamp 0:42, captioned with an address.

“Get here now” popped in before Seokjin could even click play.

Hoseok sent him a location pin right as he clicked on the video, mouth falling open as he saw Yoongi suspended in a tank of water, a mask over his mouth. He banged at the window, but instead of rage in his eyes, Seokjin saw desperation. Whatever lurked behind the camera scared him to death.

“We need to go,” Seokjin said.

He oriented them, and they raced off, Seokjin wanting to show Jeongguk the video, but too afraid to stop. Instead, he recounted it aloud. They couldn’t rewind to when they’d last seen Yoongi, and the location wasn’t near any they’d already been by.

“I could rewind,” Jeongguk said. “But, it might make things worse.”

The frustration in his voice was unfamiliar. Any other time, Seokjin would soothe him both as a mentor and as his friend, but all he could think of was the day Namjoon disappeared. Details flashed through his mind, and as the warehouse came into view, despite knowing he’d never been there before, panic sluiced through him.

It might not look like the piers, where they fought the creature that took Namjoon away, but he remembered the strange, electric blue dragon head spray painted on a decrepit barge before everything went to shit. As they arrived at the location, the same symbol stared down at him from one of the truck entrances. Jeongguk processed it and moved on, pausing only because it looked familiar. He didn’t remember why he knew it.

Hoseok, which was probably a credit to Soyeon and Junghwa, stood around the corner, a frantic tightness to the set of his jaw. For once, his thoughts spun.

Where is Jin we need to go need to get inside Yoongi Yoongi oh god I can’t lose him too I really can’t do this where is Jin?

“We’re here,” he called.

They turned at their footsteps.

“I called HQ,” Junghwa said. “They’ve sent over the blueprints for this building.”

She forwarded it to their phones, explaining the variety of entrances.

“We’ve already called for back-up, so our best option is to monitor the main exits until they arrive.” Her piercing eyes found first Seokjin’s then Hoseok’s. “This is what they’ve been building to. Barging in now is exactly what they want.”

Hoseok vibrated with agitation, ready to fight her. Seokjin hated to do it, but his hand rose to rest on his friend’s arm, silencing him.

“Seok, you can watch most of the exits. Our goal should be monitoring. We should stay in our groups in front of the two hottest entrances.”

Betrayal shot through Hoseok like flame.

How could you? We need to go in there Yoongi needs us what happens if they see we’re not taking the bait?

“The last time I rushed into a situation, they took someone I love,” Seokjin said.

He wanted to snap, wanted to remind Hoseok that he wasn’t alone in loving them, but at the same time, the pain and memories hit them hard. Taking out his own on Hoseok would be unfair.

Letting out a rough breath, Hoseok nodded. His thoughts fluttered away, focusing on tasks.

“How many exits?” He asked.

Junghwa told him, and he duplicated himself five times, each clone looking a little bleaker than the last, like he’d burdened them with his pain.

“Back-up might take up to a half an hour,” Junghwa warned. “If there’s movement, document it and call HQ or me. We need to maintain communication.”

They agreed, then split up once more. Seokjin almost argued to go with Hoseok, but he noticed how now Soyeon followed him. As if she sensed the same thing about him needing to be watched.

On their walk, Seokjin couldn’t help reaching for Jeongguk’s hand. It wasn’t smart or proper for the situation, but he needed something. He already felt shaken, and watching Hoseok crumble in front of him worsened everything.

We’ll fix this.

“I hope so.”

Jeongguk and he circled to a side door, a clone and Soyeon passing them to reach the furthest entry point on the other side, and then they were alone. They hid in the shadows of an alley across the street despite knowing that any villain worth his salt would have eyes everywhere.

Barely ten minutes passed before Seokjin’s phone rang.

He picked it up before his phone could finish its first vibration. Junghwa’s sharp words hit him like a fist.

“They sent another video. We’re going in. Remain out there for back-up.”

She hung up, and Seokjin met Jeongguk’s eyes. Whatever had been in the video, it had been enough to set Hoseok off. He and Junghwa would be a good front line, but remaining outside, Soyeon included, seemed foolish.

“If they sent a video to rile us up, they’re not going to run,” Seokjin said. “They want us to come to them.”

They started walking, but Jeongguk’s thoughts protested before he verbally could.

“If this is giving them what they want, is it smart?”

“At this point, it doesn’t matter.” He tried not to sound as frustrated as he felt. "We don't know if they're bluffing. We don't even know what happened that sent Hoseok over the edge."

Jeongguk hummed, then only asked, "Should we tell Soyeon?"

It seemed like a good idea, so Jeongguk called her, completing it as fast as Junghwa did with them. They didn't need to be sending out flares to their exact locations.

The door they guarded was locked, as expected, so Seokjin inhaled, braced himself, and kicked at the lock once, twice. This warehouse wasn't important enough for electronic locks, and the door busted open with little effort. He ignored the wave of attraction from Jeongguk, the emotion doing little to distract him.

Their door was a fire exit and thus sat at the end of a long, corporate hallway. Seokjin cast his mind out, searching for threads of thoughts, but he was notoriously bad at tracking people by their thoughts unless they had pictures of the layout of the building in their head at the exact moment. Not likely.

They marched forward, fast enough without making too much noise, bypassing the dark offices only because the thoughts Seokjin could hear faded in and out, like there was a decent amount of distance between them. A few seconds later, another text dinged on his phone, from Yoongi's phone.

Seokjin slowed, playing it, and this time Jeongguk could see as electricity lanced through the water tank. Yoongi screamed into his oxygen mask, body seizing. The video wasn't even 10 seconds long.

Anger, hot and furious, flooded through him, shame quenching it when Jeongguk noticed the giveaway in this video first.

"They're in one of the warehouse sections," he said.

He kept his voice level, but his thoughts shook with fear for his friend and a cold determination. Unlike Seokjin who might break a few UN laws about cruel and unusual torture, Jeongguk let himself see the real danger. They needed to save Yoongi first and foremost - whoever was behind this barely mattered until he was safe.

"Let's go left first," Seokjin said, as they reached the end of the hall.

They pushed out into an exposed stairwell, it looking down into an open warehouse. As they descended to the ground level, they saw nothing, then ran toward the doors on the left. The double doors opened into another hallway, though all the doors on the right had windows set into them, revealing another warehouse.

Hoseok and Junghwa's outfits drew the eyes, the colors bright among all the gray, their backs to the doors. Seokjin couldn't see the tank from the hall, but little could divert them from Yoongi. This must be the place.

Stepping into the room, another Hoseok popped into existence, scowling at them until he recognized them.

"Seokjin and Jeongguk are here," the not-Hoseok said.

Junghwa sighed, as if she wasn't surprised, but she didn't react to anything else as she tested the lock on Yoongi's tank with a screwdriver. It was a solid metal tube, with glass down the middle so researchers could see inside, reclined so the person within couldn’t see the room. He hadn't even noticed Seokjin and Jeongguk, his desperate stare locked on Junghwa as she examined the tank.

The original Hoseok was on the other side, a wrench in his hand as he tried to pry the hinges of the tank open.

"Good," Hoseok said. "We need more help."

He slammed his wrench against the hinge with a desperation that admitted how little they'd accomplished.

A new person answered Hoseok. "You all will, in a moment."

Seokjin never thought he would hear that voice again.

"Namjoon?"

On the second-floor balcony, Namjoon stood with an elbow on the bannister, supporting his chin. Seokjin couldn't see too much from his position across the room, but his mind sought Namjoon's with a desperate hunger.

The moment they connected, the concrete floor buckled beneath him, opening a cracked chasm that revealed the basement below. He let out a shrill scream as he began to fall toward the hulking machines—

He looked into the warehouse where Hoseok and Junghwa's costumes could be seen from afar. That must be where Yoongi was. Before he could venture in, Jeongguk grabbed his arm, his eyes feverish.

"Namjoon is in this building somewhere. And there's something wrong with the ground in there."

Seokjin read his thoughts for the details of the erased reality and inhaled, processing.

"We can either go in there and warn them," he said. "Or we can go looking for him."

Deciding not to leave without warning Hoseok and Junghwa, they burst into the room and reported what happened last time to their stoic companions.

"So, this must be our infamous little vigilante."

This time, Namjoon approached them from the same hallway Seokjin and Jeongguk entered through. He was flanked by two masked figures, their arms crossed behind their backs.

"Joon," Seokjin choked out. "Why?"

Namjoon tilted his head to the side, an uncharacteristic motion, and before he could say, Seokjin plunged into his thoughts. Among all the victory, hot and golden in his thoughts, he found ultimately the biggest relief and explanation.

"The Chameleon. You're a mimic," Seokjin said.

Namjoon's lips split into a wide smile even as he said, "I wish you had the sense not to say that out loud."

The figure to his left drew something from its pocket, aimed the gun at Jeongguk—

This time, reappearing in the hallway, Seokjin began to feel sick as Jeongguk explained the battle again.

“You said, ‘The Chameleon. You’re a mimic.’ What does that mean?”

“You know how Namjoon’s power worked? Well, this guy stole it, for lack of a better explanation.” Seokjin tamped down his crushing relief, not needing a distraction. “That’s really his body. Namjoon’s trapped inside it, unable to even blink on his own.”

Unless he was mimicking an illusionist, but Seokjin wasn’t sure how an amateur could perfect exactly the way Namjoon looked. Looks.

Color left his cheeks as he thought about the gun pointed at his head. No better way to stop the rewinds than by killing their creator.

"Eventually they might get me," he said. "They’re somewhere close right now. How else would they be able to come in behind us so quickly?"

"But they also got onto the second floor quickly. If we go looking for them, we leave Hoseok, Yoongi, and Junghwa vulnerable."

They allowed themselves a minute to think, listening when Hoseok began beating the glass of the tank with his wrench.

You'd think he was the one married to Yoongi, Jeongguk thought, glancing guiltily up at Seokjin.

He didn't acknowledge his words, touching his arm as he said, "I have an idea."

***

They advanced down the hallway, banging open the door to another stairwell, casting their gazes upward. The Chameleon and his lackeys would be there, and while it would be nice to wait for backup, they couldn't anticipate the villains’ movements. They also couldn't risk them killing Jeongguk before more people got there.

Stepping into the second-floor hallway, a figure entered from the opposite end, his arms crossed.

"So, what number reboot are we on now?" Namjoon's body asked. "Six? Seven?"

Footsteps sounded from the staircase above them, but Seokjin touched Jeongguk's arm to prevent. Without a word, they charged Namjoon, the man's gaze hardening as his hands dropped for a gun.

"Seulgi!" He yelled.

The floor crumpled under them right before the door into the hallway opened, but it was too late. Seokjin launched himself forward, grabbing Namjoon's body as the enemy's power hit an area too large. Unlike the fall into the basement, this fall to the first-floor hallway shouldn't kill him.

The impostor in Namjoon's body yelled the whole way down, the reflexes of the body barely saving them, as Seokjin attempted to roll when he landed. Both groaned, and Seokjin had to hope he could handle himself now, as Jeongguk hadn’t fallen with them.

Springing to his feet, Seokjin wheeled around. Namjoon had a gun drawn, aimed at his chest.

"So, you aren’t a trained fighter. Who are you?" Seokjin demanded.

Delight filled the stranger's mind. "A worthy challenger, don't you think?"

He spread his free arm, took a step back toward the door. A cry of pain came from above. Memories filled Seokjin, threatening to overwhelm him:

That day, the illusionist who disoriented them drove them closer and closer to the water with the goal of getting away. It had been meticulous planning on the Chameleon’s part, who ensured Kim Joonmyeon, the illusionist, and Kang Seulgi, their earthshaker, didn't know about the creature waiting just under the water's surface.

He had stolen the power of a hermit hero who could control animals, and the Chameleon knew of only one way to use it to get what he wanted.

The Chameleon opened his mouth to brag more, but Seokjin didn't give him the chance. He whipped out his taser and fired it at Namjoon's body. The pins didn't connect, Seokjin missing as the Chameleon leapt in the other direction.

“Metacognition!” He sang. “Can you hear my thoughts? Can you?”

“What are you?” Seokjin ducked behind a desk, abandoning the taser. It would need to be rewound to be used again. “Why are you doing this?”

He tried to keep him talking while he formulated a plan.

“Can’t you read my thoughts?”

Seokjin’s hand dropped to his normal stun gun, hoping the Chameleon would be stupid enough to walk close enough that he could jump him. Flickers of memory begged for his attention, and he let himself see snippets to placate the villain.

Classmates, a beautiful girl, chatter of the Dragons—The Chameleon, a tiny boy by the name of Boo Seungkwan, trying to show people what he could do—his powers only ever as good as those he might steal from—a thief, never a hero—

“So, it was a revenge fantasy?” Seokjin said. “If they couldn’t see you as a hero, you would, what, conquer the heroes?”

“You make it sound so dramatic,” he laughed. “That’s what I always loved about you, Metacognition.”

“No.” The thoughts shift. “You loved us. You didn’t want to share us, because if they couldn’t appreciate what was right in front of them, what right did they have to us? You were the only one who got us, huh?”

The Chameleon’s thoughts shifted, troubled, and he rounded the desk further than Seokjin would have liked. Yet, when he did, Seokjin still leapt for him, stun gun crackling, but the Chameleon had been ready. He fired, shooting Seokjin in the stomach.

A pained moan escaped from him. He dropped to his knees.

"Poor Seokjin," the Chameleon said.

He walked closer, no longer fearing an attack, foolishly, as Seokjin attempted to staunch the bleeding. Perhaps he should try, but instead, he held onto the knowledge that this man didn't want to kill him. Owning him wasn't less frightening, but at least he would live to fight another day.

His hand cupped Seokjin's chin, making him look at him. His eyes glowed with a feverish delight.

"I can’t wait to try your power. Hearing the thoughts of everyone around you must feel godlike."

Pressing a button on his collar, he called for the henchman named Joonmyeon.

No response. He did it again.

"He must still be fighting your little friend," he said. "I wonder how many times we've played through this."

Vision beginning to get fuzzy, Seokjin said, "If you don't want me to die here, you'd better get me medical attention."

Blinking, the Chameleon clicked his collar again, calling for Joonmyeon, then for Seulgi. No replies.

A figure crashed hard onto the floor between them, having fallen from the floor above. Seokjin jumping a full few seconds too late, slowed by his blood loss. The Chameleon stared down at the masked figure with abject horror, then grabbed for his gun as Jeongguk landed.

"Well," the Chameleon let out a nervous laugh, "that was unexpected. I suppose this is where I bow out." He flipped a cover up on a little device that looked like a walkie-talkie. "Help me carry my compatriots outside to our car, or I shut off Wildfire’s oxygen." He frowned. "We'll have to continue this another time."

Hyung, how far back were you shot?

"Wait," he said, other thoughts and intentions reaching him.

Thinking he meant him, the Chameleon laughed. "You'll bleed out if I wait much longer, Meta hyung."

Disgust welled up in Jeongguk and he prepared to rewind, when the door from the stairwell banged open, Soyeon racing toward them.

"Hold him," Seokjin whispered.

Realization dawned over Jeongguk, and he rushed toward the Chameleon, no one thinking about Yoongi's tank even as the villain screamed his warning. He flipped his gun toward Jeongguk and pressed the button on his controller as one of Soyeon's bare fingers touched the base of his neck.

The Chameleon’s arms went limp first, and the room fell silent. A horrifying choking noise came from him, and he slumped to his knees as Soyeon's negation power stole through him.

"Yoongi," Seokjin whispered.

He shuffled to lean against a partially destroyed desk, breathing growing harder.

"We need to help him!" Jeongguk swung his gaze from Seokjin to the Chameleon’s remote.

"Call for an ambulance and try to open the container again," Seokjin said. "Hoseok and Junghwa might not have been bothered at all."

Frantic shouting emanated from somewhere, and Seokjin bet it meant the worst. They hadn't gotten Yoongi out, and his oxygen shut off.

"You only have about three minutes to free him," he reminded Jeongguk. "You have endless time to help, but you need to use that time."

"Wait."

Before Jeongguk could run off, Namjoon turned his head to look at him, his eyes glassy, but his voice sure.

"I know how to open it."

The control panel Hoseok and Junghwa must have found earlier, on the back panel of the tank, couldn't be used without a key.

"I have the key in my left pocket, but you might prefer to grab it yourself."

This time the cadence sounded familiar, as long as it had been since Seokjin last heard it. Weak tears leaped to his eyes, but Jeongguk, despite being a fan, was friends with Yoongi. Being star-struck was for moments without time constraints.

Jeongguk darted forward, patted Namjoon's pockets, and drew out a nubby black key. He checked for any others and found keys to what must have been a getaway car, then pocketed those, too.

He sprinted out the nearest door, knowing his speed could be the difference between life and death. Meanwhile, Soyeon was on the phone with authorities, her thoughts confirming she'd gotten an ambulance.

Nothing left to do, Seokjin let himself stare at Namjoon, soaking in the sight.

“Is it really you?” Seokjin asked.

Can’t you tell?

And while the mimic, using Namjoon's power, would have the ability to tap into his memories, the ones Namjoon showed him would have no significance to anyone who didn't understand.

In those moments before passing out, Seokjin saw Namjoon over at his family's apartment for dinner, them sneaking the dregs of Seokjin's father's beer to see what it tasted like. He saw the place under Namjoon's bed where they hid their "dream lists." Nothing big and emotional, just very Namjoon.

Tears slid down Seokjin's cheeks, and he might have smiled before seeing nothing else.

***

This time, waking in the hospital wing, he woke in a parallel situation to when Jeongguk had been hit with lightning. Jeongguk sat right beside him, hand holding his, head propped against the bed, probably to avoid the mass of bandages on Seokjin’s abdomen. He wouldn't be moving easily any time soon, but he lived. No one else was in the room.

Squeezing Jeongguk's hand, Seokjin roused him with a raspy call of his name.

Jeongguk's head shot up, the dark bags under his eyes prominent as he scanned over Seokjin.

"Hyung."

Before Seokjin knew what was happening, Jeongguk was kissing him all over his face. Despite the faint pain, Seokjin laughed.

"I suppose this is worse than a tranquilizer."

Jeongguk shot him an unimpressed frown. "You asked me to leave you."

"Because I don't know if Soyeon is faster than you."

That didn't appease Jeongguk much, so Seokjin asked after Yoongi, his voice dropping as he feared the answer.

"He's okay. The key worked exactly like Namjoon hyung said it would."

Seokjin blinked. The "hyung" was new and suggested conversation beyond what he’d been awake to see.

"What about Namjoon?"

"He's in the psych ward," Jeongguk's voice lowered, whether he intended for it to or not, like it was a secret. "They're doing a mental evaluation to see what his condition is."

Asking after Namjoon turned out to be futile, as Jeongguk just shrugged and said, "He wants to tell all of you at the same time. It's driving Yoongi hyung crazy."

Then, perhaps in an attempt to distract Seokjin, he recounted some of his favorite taunts toward Hoseok.

"I'd never seen Hoseok hyung that...I dunno, emotional? He's usually so in control of everything."

"You have to remember, he lost Namjoon, too. We all processed it in different ways. Hoseok used to be a lot more effortless. A lot happier."

It hurt to talk too much, so Seokjin fell silent, wondering if things could go back to the way they'd been before. If Hoseok could smile easier, if Yoongi might lose some of the intense cynicism. If he could stop throwing himself into his work without any regard to anyone else.

"Probably another week before you can move without pain," the nurse said. "Even with the healers. Working in the intestines is delicate work."

Seokjin waited it out. Yoongi and Hoseok both visited, and he did already see changes in them. The first day, Hoseok looked way worse than him, despite not having seen any combat that day. Seeing Yoongi almost drown half killed him, his thoughts fried. When Hoseok and Yoongi left, Seokjin called one of their supervisors, and he all but threatened him.

"Talk Hoseok into sleeping pills, therapy, something. He'll brush me off, and I think his nerves have taken too much."

The following week might have been one of the longest in his life. Certainly not longer than the week Namjoon disappeared, but he shook with impatience. He couldn't see Namjoon until he could move to his ward, and he was also sick of the bedpans.

Day two, he found out that the Seulgi the Chameleon yelled for during their battle had been the secretary who had been friends with Yoongi. She’d been playing out some fantasy of her own, resentful of her life stuck behind a desk at HQ, when she thought her power was worth so much more.

“She could move the earth,” Jeongguk said, awe in his voice. “You’d think they could train her a little.”

Seokjin didn’t bother responding—they’d both heard the reports. Seulgi hadn’t been approved for a field job because her earthshaker power was so hard to control. The damages outweighed their benefits. While he could understand it, the thought that all along, someone who worked floors away from him had known where Namjoon was, but did nothing, cut through his sympathy. She deserved her cell just as much as the Chameleon.

Day six, they approved his removal from the hospital wing, and Jeongguk helped him up. Seokjin could walk in small, aborted steps, but rising up and down hurt like a bitch.

Jeongguk helped him to the floor of the psych ward, the pair shuffling down the wing reserved usually for those who were kidnapped. This wasn't the place for heroes who had psychotic breaks or those who needed general help with issues. Heroes came here for reprogramming to ensure they were safe to release back into the world.

Namjoon sat on the edge of his bed, a room all to himself, wearing a hospital gown that showed how washed-out his skin looked. He looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in years. His hair had returned to his natural black, something Seokjin hadn't seen on him since his wedding, and before that, perhaps for school photos.

Yoongi sat next to his bed, and their conversation stopped as Seokjin and Jeongguk entered. As Yoongi turned, Seokjin saw the wedding band back in place on his finger. Namjoon didn't wear his, and later Hoseok would tell him that they decided to buy Namjoon a new one. Neither wanted the memories associated with the Chameleon mailing it to Yoongi.

"Hoseok will be here soon,” Yoongi said.

Jeongguk helped Seokjin into his own chair, Seokjin grimacing despite his best efforts to pull it together. He distracted himself in Namjoon's head, the rhythm of his thoughts almost as familiar as his own. They comforted Seokjin, but then he found, to his quiet horror, that he had no idea what to say to his friend. What do you say, after all that?

Hoseok arrived shortly after, and something in his eyes had cleared in that week. He'd been sleeping, at least.

"Hey," he said.

They all greeted him, their voices a rising tide of tomorrow. Tears welled in Seokjin's eyes before he could think about it, and he tried to blink them away before this became about him.

"I suppose it's time to tell you guys what happened," Namjoon said.

He cast them a wavering smile, and Seokjin sensed the exhaustion in him, rotting away at his core. Seokjin leaned forward and rested a hand on his shoulder.

At Namjoon's surprise, he said, "I missed you."

It was ultimately unnecessary, but Namjoon’s nervous smile steadied, became more natural. No matter what, if he never told them, they couldn't erase their past either. There wasn't just one past that mattered. Everything before his disappearance still mattered.

"That night... When the monster took me, it whisked me out to sea. There was a boat waiting, as crazy as that sounds. It held me, lifted me onto the deck, and the crew there knocked me out so I couldn't use my powers. I was out for a few days while they moved me. I can't even tell you where I was for most of the first year."

Namjoon exhaled, and Yoongi's fingers shifted up to brush through his hair, the touch gentle. He seemed to draw strength from it, then continued.

"Once they were confident no one would find me, they locked me in this series of prison rooms. I've never wished I had a different power more in my life."

Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes, and he took a steadying breath.

"His name was Seungkwan. The mimic. He was like an excitable child about 'besting the best of the best' and being able to use our powers.”

“Did he want to ruin superheroes to the public?” Jeongguk asked.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said. “Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to take our places, somedays it seemed like he wanted us just for bragging rights. Either way, we would spend the rest of our lives in cages.”

That image washed over them, and no one said anything for a moment.

“The thing I can’t understand is, why wait for two years to use you against us?” Seokjin asked.

“Because,” Namjoon swung his gaze to Seokjin, “the illusionist who was there when I was captured, his name was Kisook, he was wanted by a lot of authorities. He was reckless, but useful to Seungkwan, so a lot of their energy was put in running and hiding. Half the time I swear they forgot about me. Skipped a lot of meals those days. But, once Kisook was accidentally killed, Seungkwan had no other distractions.”

After a beat, Hoseok said, “For being trapped for two years, you sound remarkably with us.”

Namjoon shook his head. "That’s because you’re all here. Seungkwan couldn’t possess all of you, and I saw Kisook die with my own eyes. I know this has to be real.” They all saw him pause, and Seokjin wished he could break Seungkwan out of custody to beat the shit out of him.

“I keep telling the doctors here the indoctrination didn't work,” Namjoon said, when he could continue. “I was a prisoner in my head for the last 8 months or so. I never possessed the same people regularly, so I have no experience knowing what controlling a body continuously like that does to their sense of self. It could be horrible. I'm lucky. I think my power kept my personality from merging with his. But, I have no way of knowing."

"So, he gave up on winning you over and just started using your body?" Hoseok asked.

"Yes. He tried causing problems, but the thing is, I was the wrong choice for that. Anyone he uses this way just goes to jail. If I went to jail, they'd have released me to HQ, and there goes all that hard work. This luring and tempting of you guys was the most thought he put into any of these schemes."

"Did that start because we were seen together again?” Yoongi asked.

"That spurred him into motion," Namjoon agreed. "Seeing you all back hero-ing again, it pissed him off. Like everything he'd done had been ineffective."

Like you'd forgotten me, his thoughts said, and Seokjin flicked his forehead.

"Don't."

Namjoon looked horrified for a second, before recognition calmed him.

"Sorry, hyung. Having people in my thoughts—"

Seokjin flushed with shame. "Sorry. I'll be polite."

You don't have to be. I missed this. Just be patient with me, alright?

This time, Seokjin just smiled to himself, but said nothing.

"So, maybe I deserve to be in here,” Namjoon said. “Sounds like a good recipe for PTSD to me."

And, from Yoongi's thoughts, that was likely. Namjoon often woke crying and shaking, unsure where he was. He had a road to walk until he felt safe again, and that fear wouldn’t disappear overnight.

After that, they spent hours catching up as they ate, talked, and took breaks for stupid things, like for shows or movies they wanted Namjoon to see. Sometimes the grief consumed him with the weight of the two years he lost, and they let him cry, wrapped him in their arms.

Hoseok cried a lot. Yoongi and Seokjin some.

Sometime after lunch, Namjoon turned to Jeongguk with a gentle smile and apologized for ignoring him for so long.

"Yoongi's told me about you. You're Seokjin's protege, right?"

Jeongguk shot Yoongi a betrayed frown, and Yoongi laughed.

"Boyfriend now, actually," Seokjin said, to his three best friends’ shocked cries.

"You never told us that!" Yoongi scowled.

"We had a lot going on."

They bickered for a while, before Seokjin remembered to give proper introductions.

"This is Jeon Jeongguk. He can rewind time 10 minutes at a time. And Jeongguk, this is Kim Namjoon, my childhood best friend."

They shook hands, and, finally, Jeongguk's eyes sparkled, and he admitted, "I was a huge fan. You guys are who made me want to become a hero."

Namjoon laughed. "I missed hearing stuff like that."

Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin let them talk for a bit, Namjoon coming alive at the chance to talk to someone new. A connection not tainted or taken from him.

While they talked, Seokjin asked Yoongi, in a low voice, "Are you two okay, then?"

"We're going to work at it. One day at a time."

A memory flickered through Yoongi's mind, and he hesitated over it, then gave it to Seokjin, letting him see.

After his check-up the first night back, Yoongi sat with Namjoon, almost falling asleep, when the latter asked the dreaded question.

"Have you been seeing anyone else?"

"What?" It startled Yoongi back to wakefulness. "No. Never."

Namjoon laughed, relief thick in his voice, as he said, "I never gave up on you. Isn't that pathetic? I'm supposed to love you, but I sat there hoping you would wait and be miserable for two years—"

Yoongi cut him off with a kiss, it almost as clumsy as their first.

He cut the memory back before their lips touched, not wanting to give their friend unnecessary knowledge.

"He waited. And you know I waited. So we're going to try."

"Well, he has a lot to live up to. He was never your maid, like poor Hoseok."

Another fond smile. "I don't deserve either of them." Then he looked up at Seokjin. "You, though. You're just enough of a pain in the ass, hyung."

Seokjin punched his shoulder. "I can be so much worse, Yoongi chi."

They squabbled, and slowly but surely, they began to heal.

***

It took two months of solid evaluations before they let Namjoon leave the psych ward.

The day he first ventured, unsupervised, from the building, his friends followed in silence, smiling as he sank down on the sidewalk just outside HQ, soaking in the sun.

"I think we're going on a vacation next," Namjoon said. "Yoongi, clear your calendar. You too, hyung, Hoseok."

He excluded Jeongguk, who pouted, because school wouldn't let go of him so easily.

Yoongi had contemplated selling his little house. As much as he liked the peace and easy life, his sadness coated the walls like a second layer of paint. Too many bad memories. Nor could they remain with Hoseok forever. It was time for a new beginning.

They bought a new apartment on a quieter side of the city, and Namjoon took up painting to help cope with his trauma, helped by the quiet tutelage of Hoseok’s new boyfriend, Shin Hoseok.

The first time Seokjin and Yoongi laid eyes on the beefcake their old friend was dating, they asked, “Wait, when did this happen?” and “Is he a hero?” in succession.

“A few months ago?” Hoseok said, arm hooked through Shin Hoseok’s, his cheeks red. “And you don’t have a power, right honey?”

“Nope.” Shin Hoseok smiled like Hoseok and he were the only two in the room. “Just go to the gym a lot.”

It blew them away and made Seokjin gag. They were really gone for each other, and while that reassured him, their thoughts were cloying. Seokjin kicked himself for somehow missing such a big part of Hoseok’s life, but at the same time, understood why Hoseok kept those parts of his life separate. Sometimes a missing loved one felt like a black hole that could destroy the rest of your life. He didn’t begrudge him, since he told them now—and since it seemed like they would be seeing a lot more of Shin Hoseok.

As for Jeongguk, he wanted to keep being a hero, as did Seokjin, and if Seokjin was in the field, Hoseok and Yoongi would follow.

Namjoon said he needed time, no one begrudged him that, but in their moments out to eat, Seokjin could hear whispers of thought from Namjoon that worried him. He considered their bodies: They had at least another ten years of nimbleness, give or take.

And if they're out there, can I really stay home?

Seokjin didn't bother to correct him.

As for Jeongguk and him, he'd accidentally given Jeongguk a taste of the big hero's life and cemented his decision. For better or worse, they had another superhero on their hands.

Late one night, in bed, they cuddled naked together, Jeongguk's head on Seokjin's chest. They'd been talking about the future, Seokjin wondering about their future heroing. What job he might pick up in the next few years to prepare, and how that might affect them. What might happen to Jeongguk out on his own, without a team.

After a thoughtful pause, Jeongguk said, "Don't worry too much about me, hyung."

His thoughts were hard to gather.

I have you and Yoongi hyung and Hoseok hyung and Namjoon hyung waiting for me. I have to be careful.

"Be careful for you, too," Seokjin scolded.

Jeongguk grinned at him. "Have more faith in me."

But, as much as he played around, it stopped being a game to him after rescuing Namjoon. It cemented what he wanted to do with his life, though he did keep going to school. He stopped patrolling on his own, started taking classes at HQ, and before anyone knew what was happening, they offered him a job, post-university.

Not wanting to be upstaged by HQ, Seokjin offered him a new place to live.

Both were enthusiastically accepted by Jeongguk, to Taehyung and Jimin’s detriment, who now got to listen to their late nights.

It couldn't erase the past, but as they began to build anew, the love helped them through their darkest moments. No matter what happened, they bad guys hadn't won.