Work Text:
It’s well past midnight as Seokjin stumbles into the park, a little out of breath, ears ringing as his feet screech to a halt.
This is probably illegal, parks are never open this late at night, but maybe he’s had enough of today. And maybe he wants to feel safe. And maybe he wants to smoke in peace, even if he’s left his smokes at home.
He doesn’t even know anymore at this point.
The pebbles on the jogging trail crunch under his feet and dig into his heel, the air smelling like freshly cut grass and wet soil. There are cicadas singing in the background, marking the start of summer, turning over a new leaf.
It makes his stomach turn and jaw clench, because right now he wants nothing to do with new beginnings. He’s had enough of them since he came to Seoul four months ago, has had enough with his new job that he should be enjoying but really isn’t, and has had enough of feeling like an emotional vagabond.
He thought it would be different from before, that the move would make him forget, or that it would at least dull the memories. He couldn’t have been more wrong, as flashes and images flood in, making him feel like a singular rusty nail in the middle of a well-oiled machine.
Don’t get it twisted, he loves to write songs for talented and budding artists, loves to create and release words that resonate and imprint themselves on radios and phones. But, as he walks out of work today, his heart clenches - everything feeling a little too empty and vulnerable.
He kicks some rocks as he stares around the park.
It’s quite ordinary really, nothing much when you’re the only one there and the space is illuminated by two shitty lamps. But, he can imagine it bustling with people - old and new, loud and sharp, bold and blunt, everyone hazy and soft around the edges as they exist in their own little bubbles and galaxies. With books in hands or music screaming through a speaker, with dogs and cats playing a game of chase and birds watching over them in delight. Everything crashing and colliding as they -
“Jin, it’s just a park for fuck’s sake it isn’t that deep, leave your writer brain at work and just maybe? Roll on the grass or something. I don’t know” he mutters to himself.
As tempting as rolling on the grass sounds to his foggy brain, he knows he’ll regret it tomorrow when he loads the washer. He spots a set of swings to his right, and quickly paces over.
He plops on one of them, and starts to rock back and forth.
His feet are evidently too long for these swings, they don’t hang off of them like they used to when he was kid. His shoes dig into the sand as he pushes and gains momentum, creating craters beneath his feet as stars shine above him, hidden behind smoke screens and skyscrapers.
He maybe wants to cry, but his lungs feel tight and he doesn’t want to think about how lonely he’s been feeling. How the city makes him feel like an insignificant cog in a giant wheel. And also about how he’s in a park at midnight in the middle of a work week, wallowing in his loneliness.
And so he doesn’t think about those things. The air is quiet, the city feels like a million lightyears away, and his problems are starting to dissipate.
Yeah, he just needed a moment with himself, just needed to get out his thick skill and get some inspiration, just him and the empty park.
He’s starting to feel a little less fidgety, can feel his brain buzz a but quieter, and everything seems like it’s going to get a little better. Can almost feel lyrics run through his veins and onto his trusty notepad.
Until he hears a rustle in the back, and sees a figure by the swings, and screams.
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The pub’s low-lit, a moody atmosphere that’s got people high on eye-contact and flashes of smiles.
The bass thumps gently, the guitar strums like a harp, and over it all, a body shifts and turns like shards of a broken disco ball.
Jimin’s here alone today, with Namjoon and Jungkook being out of town. He loves being here with his friends, but right now, he’s maybe loving his own company a little more.
His hips lock and retract to the beat, his hands run through his hair and sway up-down up-down, while simultaneously swatting unwanted touches and gazes. He knows how he looks when he dances like this, when he overflows with an energy that pulls and makes you want to watch. He never dances for them, although they seem to think otherwise.
He tip-toes to the bar counter, asks for a beer, and waltzes back to the dance floor.
The lights flash pink and purple and green, they make Jimin feel blue and yellow and so, so good. The song sounds almost dream-like, and his mind feels like it’s floating in a cloud of cotton as he glides his feet across the sticky floor. He watches people watching him, returns them a smile and burns his gaze into theirs. He connects with everyone in the room, lighting them up like a screen and zaps their attention to where he’s grounded. They reach out to him, like moths to a flame, and Jimin feels his ears ring as he smoothly steps aside.
The drink in his hand dries up, the bottle now empty, and Jimin is walking out the pub - leaving behind trails of smoke and prisms and lingering breaths.
It’s almost summer, and it shows.
The night is a little damp, the streets feel claustrophobic and with the city being as cramped as it is, it also feels more lonely. He stands on the sidewalk, and watches the people move as they sway like dandelions - pretty and fragile. Seems all too familiar, the story repeating with the same cues, nobody learning from past summers and what it looks like in this city.
His feet stomp through concrete roads and traffic lights and the alcohol is slowly wearing off. His mind starts to drift, and memories rush in, wounds rotting into dust and flames.
With summer comes fresh starts, and bitter ends. With summer came heart-break paired along with tampered trust which folded into a tiny origami swan that flew the first chance it got. With summer came -
Jimin doesn’t know where he is anymore.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking like this, but he can tell he hasn’t gone too far. He’s wandered off to a neighbourhood he doesn’t recognise, domestic in nature, the kinds families stick to and multiply in. It feels nice, to get lost in a place he’s grown to be so familiar with. And now more than ever, maybe he just needs a change.
And so, Jimin marches into the thick of it, gleefully twirling the streets without inhibition. He walks down a steep road, and spots a park further down the end of the street.
“Eh, you only live once don’t you?” he eloquently states as he runs over to the compound, and jumps over the tiny park fence.
He lands with a faint thud, and giggles as he feels damp mud all over his pants. He brushes himself off, and takes in the view - which isn’t anything special but still holds true to the nostalgia - until he sees a person walking a little ahead of him.
Jimin starts to panic a little, because why would a person be at a tiny park this late at night. Yet, he’s somehow here, and the person seems interesting enough to risk a social interaction because, who else would be here at a time like this. And maybe Jimin is still a little buzzed from before, guards down and impulses up.
He makes himself scarce and watches as the person mops around and finally lands on one of the swings. Jimin starts to walk towards the stranger, because, maybe they would like some company. That maybe, they were also here cause they felt burdened and caged and - maybe it’s all just Jimin projecting.
Either way, he approaches closer, and the person doesn’t move. “They must be worse off than me”, Jimin mutters to himself as he takes a step further, which is enough to make them notice Jimin, shoulders rising in surprise and locking into place.
Jimin opens his mouth to apologise, and in that moment, he watches the stranger flail in horror and winces as a shrill scream leaves their lips, loud enough to send him tumbling onto the ground.
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“Holy shit dude can you please stop screaming!!!! Oh fuck, I think I broke my ass - “
“No I will not stop screaming cause who the fuck are you and why the fuck would you sneak up on me like that??? Listen, if you’re gonna pull out a knife or a broken bottle or something I’m going to warn you right this second to think twice about - “
“Huh, wait what? Man look, I want nothing to do with you okay? I’m just a little drunk and sad and, I don’t know how I landed up here and I saw you by the swings and I just, I don’t even know? I wanted to give you some company? I swear I got nothing on me alright?”
“How can I be so sure?”
“Here alright! Just -”, Jimin quickly scrambles and empties out his pockets, “I just got a lighter and some smokes on me yeah? Here’s my wallet and phone and, my lip balm and, that’s about it. Shit, stop staring at me like that I swear I’ll just, leave okay? I’m sorry.”
“No wait!”, the man shrieks in a rush and approaches him slowly with a hint of uncertainty. “Let me help you up”, he says as he extends his hand.
Jimin looks at him wide-eyed, and he’s rightfully confused because? What the fuck this guy looked like he was going to sucker-punch him until 5 seconds ago. And now he’s offering to help him up?
“How can I be so sure?”, Jimin quips back.
He watches as the other empties out his pockets as well - a phone, wallet, some gum and a pair of earphones.
“Now, do you want to get off your ass or not?”, he says as he extends his hand once again.
Jimin grunts, accepts the offer and is pulled off the ground in one swift motion, landing shakily on his feet as he tumbles a little, finally regaining balance.
“You okay, uh -?"
“Jimin, I’m Jimin.”
“Right, Jimin-ssi. I’m Seokjin. And uh, sorry about the screaming, and also the part where I accused you of being a murderer.”
“I don’t blame you, Seokjin-ssi. I would have probably punched you in the face if I think about it, creeps all around this time of the day. But um, I guess you don’t seem that creepy?”
Seokjin chuckles, a light airy sort of thing that’s got Jimin feeling a little at ease.
“I’ll take that, Jimin-ssi. I’ll take that.”
The air stands still between them, the awkwardness beginning to rise - coming as naturally as it would when you’re at a semi-rinky-dink park in a strangely domestic part of town.
“So”, Seokjin suddenly chimes, “you said you had a pack of smokes?”
_____________________________________________________________________________________
“Why are you here anyway?”, Jimin swerves to the point.
“Why are any of us here?”, Seokjin answers as he puffs out grey.
“Gosh, Seokjin-ssi. I meant like, what brought you wandering to this very random park in this very random part of Seoul?”
“Oh, I just got sick of staring at my notebook, felt like ripping my pages up. Needed a breather I guess”
“You're a student then?”
“Nope, I write for a music label. I’m um, a lyricist.”
Jimin’s eyes turn wide, “Holy shit, that’s. That’s actually quite cool.”
“I guess so,” Jin scoffs. “It mostly sucks ‘cause I’m new here and I just, I don’t know. Feel stuck and, it’s. Weird. Yeah.”
The silence lays thick, slicing open when Jimin giggles and says, “You know, for a writer, you did a pretty shit job at articulating yourself over there.”
“Oh, and who might you be to judge, Jimin-ssi?”
“I deal with human emotions for a living, Seokjin-ssi. I think I’m qualified enough.”
“A psychiatrist?”
“Close enough, a therapist. Specifically for teenagers at school.”
“What’s a school therapist doing here this time of day, eh?”
“Same thing as you, I guess. Just needed a distraction, and I like to dance, so. Clubbing it is.”
“Hmm”, Seokjin decides to leave it at that.
Time ticks by, dual realisations dawning as everything stops to a standstill around them.
“I guess, I’ll be heading home then Seokjin-ssi.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to head back to the studio as well. It was um, it was really nice meeting you Jimin-ssi.”
Jimin cracks a genuine smile, “It was nice meeting you too”, he says and slowly backs up, turns to walk away, footsteps subtly lingering with every move he makes.
They stop to a halt, coerced by the voice behind him saying -
“Wait, Jimin-ssi!” Seokjin jogs towards him with a curious frown on his face and stumbles to a stop.
“Did I forget something?” Jimin asks, eyes matching the other’s in uncertainty.
“Do you, do you want to come with me to my studio?” Seokjin blurts.
Jimin’s eyebrows do a thing and his heart pounds in his throat. He’s pretty sure the guy is not a murderer, he seems nice enough but. But -
“I just realized the time and it’s probably unsafe to travel so late, plus it’s just a few minutes away?” Seokjin yaps on, probably trying to salvage the awkwardness. When he’s met with silence, he decidedly goes on “and I understand if you’re not comfortable, you can say no of course, I mean. We literally just met and we’re strangers, but I honestly could use the company you know? And I have a feeling you might too and I know this is quite random and this is out of character for me as well haha -”
“This isn’t for a fuck, right?” Jimin almost shouts.
Seokjin’s eyes go so wide, it almost matches the moon in the sky.
“ WHAT ?”
“I’m being serious, Seokjin-ssi. This, this isn’t for a fuck right? ‘Cause if it is, you have to let me know and we can both avoid being disappointed and not hurt each other 15 minutes from now when you back me up in a corner and I kick you in the nuts -”
“Wait please just, I would never, I don’t - “ Seokjin frantically paces back-and-forth, finally stops to a halt and looks at Jimin with a strained expression.
“Jimin-ssi look I’m, I swear I’m not looking for a fuck too alright? I’m sorry if my question made you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like that, but that wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t kidding when I said what I did, and -” he hesitates, and slowly says “I liked talking to you, but that’s about it yeah? I, god, this is so embarrassing. I’m just gonna go, I hope things work well for you and best of luck with everything and -”
“I’ll come with you, Seokjin-ssi.”
“What?”
“Just, let’s walk. I would like to see your studio.” Jimin breathes out.
They look at each other for a beat more - risks being calculated on both ends, phones getting clutched onto a smidge tighter, curiosity spiking and hearts racing as Seokjin finally cuts through saying, “I, um. Alright. Let’s get out of here.”
_____________________________________________________________________________________
“This place is a mess, if you don’t mind me saying Seokjin-ssi.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. And call me hyung. I have a feeling you’re younger than me anyway.”
“Oh we’re at hyung privilege already? You must really be lonely.”
“Shut up and don’t make me regret bringing you here.”, Seokjin’s eyes lightly crinkle as he lets out a breathy laugh.
He tries to tidy up some of the crumpled papers off the ground and by his couch, clearing up space as Jimin places his jacket by the bean bag. He passes Jimin his spare blanket and chucks him a pillow, a silent invitation to rest up before they screech back to reality in just a few more hours. Jimin grabs them and curls up on the couch, while Seokjin plops on his chair - back turned, and eyes staring straight at his millionth draft of the day. He can hear Jimin’s breathe start to even out, and a part of him feels like he can say -
“I think you’re closest to being my first friend here, Jimin.”, he whispers.
He almost thinks Jimin didn’t hear him, until “I’m glad, hyung. At least we have a great story to tell about the first time we met.”
“Oh yeah, we definitely do.”, Seokjin swivels around and gives Jimin a smile, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Can I ask what you’re writing about, hyung?”, Jimin asks softly.
It wasn’t like Seokjin wasn’t expecting the question, but it still makes his hands clam up.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t wa-”
“I want to.”
Jimin sits up straight, and leans further into Seokjin’s space, trying to best convey that he’s here. And he’s listening.
“It’s about, a moment of acceptance. That moment when you are finally brave enough to look at yourself in the mirror, when you’re able to unearth the person you’ve buried inside you your whole life.”
A brief pause, and Seokjin continues.
“It’s a song about love. I know there are a lot of songs about love, romantic love in specific you know? And that’s great because love is fundamental and powerful and I totally get why people like falling in love, and writing and singing about it. I mean, it clearly resonates with a lot of people because love songs sell and top charts. But - “
Seokjin twiddles with the white ring on his finger and looks up at Jimin nervously, before saying -
“But, I don’t think I ever fully understood it.
I’ve written countless romantic tracks and break-up songs for artists, but it, it never felt totally sincere. It always felt like I was writing about something from another dimension, something which felt like I could never have a total grasp on.
I think love is so much more than what we broadcast it to be, that there’s been this tier system within the realm of love which I never really got either. I used to feel confused, and guilty, for never really understanding romance and love the way other people seemingly do.
The song I’m writing, it’s about the love that I’ve worked hardest to achieve in my life. It's about learning to love myself for who I am and. And I’m so fucking scared to even show it to the producers and writers here because, I don’t know if people would want to hear something other than a whirl-winded romance or a fuck at a house-party or a break-up that tore apart their soul to pieces.”, Seokjin breathlessly finishes.
A beat and -
“I’m sorry Jimin, that, that probably makes no sense.”
Seokjin starts to drift away further, until he hears -
“I think I get it, hyung.”, Jimin whispers.
Seokjin looks up at him, and Jimin continues.
“I, I get it. That feeling of not fitting in, that feeling where it looks like everyone seems to understand and you’re just left behind scrambling, just playing catch-up. Love has always been looked at so two-dimensionally and it’s almost as if you’re made to feel like you’re missing out if you don’t seem to understand it as it’s popularly portrayed.
And, if we’re going to be sharing - I think I’ve liked people romantically but, it just never seemed like something I’ve fully understood either? It’s appealing to imagine myself in a romantic relationship, minus a lot of the romance-coded things and also the um, the other expectations that usually tag along with being in a romantic relationship.
Ah, I’m sorry, I’m rambling but either way, I just. I wanted to convey that I think you’re so brave, hyung. For putting yourself out there. For wanting to talk about something that means to you, and I honestly think the company would miss out if they reject your draft. I, I don’t think I’ve ever ever resonated with someone as much as I have with you on this in particular, and -
That made me feel less alone. And I think I’d like to hear about what you have to say, hyung. I think many people would, too.”
“You think so, Jimin?”, Seokjin asks.
Jimin twiddles with the black ring on his finger, and says -
“I know so. I mean, it’d be nice to hear about something other than people talking about how they’d like to fuck other people for once.”
Seokjin lets out a dry laugh, “Oh yeah, never really understood those either if I’m being honest.”
“I will have to admit though, sex playlists are good to dance too.”
“Quite possibly the only good thing about them, I reckon.”
Jimin smiles at the comment, familiarity bubbling in Seokjin’s presence, walls slowly drifting down.
“Thank you, Jimin-ah.”
“Don’t mention it, hyung.”
They share a knowing glance, quickly looking down at their hands that have made their way closer to one another, hands briefly touching as their rings clack into place.
They glance back up, a million question running through their head, but all they settle for is -
“I think we should sleep”, Seokjin suggests.
“Hmm.”, Jimin nods.
They slowly move away, Jimin curling into the couch and Seokjin reclining on his chair - backs facing the other, pacing themselves as they say -
“Goodnight, hyung.”
“Goodnight, Jimin-ah.”
_____________________________________________________________________________________
“My ride’s here, hyung.”, Jimin declares, feet rocking back-and-forth on the pavement.
“Hmm? Oh already?”, Seokjin mutters half-asleep.
“Yeah, I uh. I don’t think I got to thank you yesterday, for everything hyung.”
“Oh, I should be thanking you as well, Jimin. It was, great spending time with you yesterday.”
“Likewise, hyung.”
As if on cue, Jimin’s ride pulls up on the street, and in a split second Jimin realises -
“Could we, maybe exchange Kakaotalk IDs? Or even Insta handles, I mean. I would like to stay in touch hyung, if that’s okay with you.”
Seokjin sucks in a breath and chuckles, “Of course it would be Jimin-ah, here let me show you both.”
They frantically exchange IDs as the cab driver honks away, Jimin quickly slipping into the back-seat as Seokjin waves goodbye.
Almost immediately, Jimin hears his phone chime in his pocket.
jwan92
text me when you get home, yeah?
mochimin
yes, hyung-nim ∩(︶▽︶)∩
jwan92
you’re going to be a menace, aren’t you?
mochimin
no escaping now (◡‿◡✿)
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And if Jimin sees Seokjin share a post from the account ‘aro_memes’ on his story, he replies to it with his heart hammering in his chest.
And if Seokjin sees a picture of Jimin inked with an ‘ace of spades’ tattoo in shades of purple and black, he likes the post and shakily types in a comment.
And they both smile.
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