Chapter Text
Yoongi sighed, frustrated.
Ever since he finally got his driver's license, the young producer had to cart around his noisy roommates. Take Seokjin to the marketplace for groceries, drop Namjoon off at the hardware store for super glue, bring Hoseok with his snoring dog to the vet. He was tired of being abused as a taxi.
As he slowed to a stop, Yoongi turned on his left blinker. According to his car clock, he was cutting it close. Jeongguk would be let out of school in a few minutes, and he hated waiting to be picked up.
They all had witnessed this hatred first hand, when Seokjin was late picking Jeongguk up from middle school and Jeongguk had not talked to the elder for an entire week. That had been really hard to do since they were roommates, but Seokjin would not give up; he even went so far as to fish for compliments for his cooking. Jeongguk made it through, though, by just shoving a spoon full of rice into his mouth to stop himself from speaking.
After the silence was lifted a whole week later, Hoseok asked why Jeongguk had not liked Seokjin being late.
Jeongguk had shrugged as he replied. “Just reminds me of daycare, when Eomma and Appa were late to pick me up after work. Sometimes, they would be so tired and Hyung would have to help them remember they had a second son.”
Seokjin had hugged Jeongguk for a long time after that statement.
And to prevent another emotional mishap, Namjoon had fixed the car clock to read a few minutes faster so when Seokin got in the car, he would feel the need to get to his destination quicker. This might have led to a couple of speeding tickets in rural areas, but it was fine; Namjoon could cover the cost with the bit of money made from his mixtape that did not go to rent.
Yoongi frowned, thinking it was nineteen years too early for RM (Why was Namjoon so obsessed with the letter R?) to have a successful mixtape. (And who was in charge of music trends at the entertainment companies anyway?)
Yoongi turned into the parking lot, scouring the rows of cars for an empty parking space. He thought he saw one in the back corner, so he navigated through the parking lot and made it to the parking place, easily parallel parking between the two white lines with his three point turn.
When he got out of the car, Yoongi pulled his black leather jacket closer to his body. For an early March day, it was pretty chilly. Before leaving the parking lot, he fixed his dark grey woolen beanie over his black hair with rich purple streaks and applied a black face mask. He adjusted the red knit scarf around his neck, burrowing his face into the soft material. (Jeongguk had made them all matching scarves for New Years, but gave Hoseok his scarf on his birthday, since the dates were only a week apart.)
Yoongi padded quickly up the bare sidewalk. He had to pause at all crosswalks for all three blocks, though, waiting for the light to turn green so he could cross safely. He also had to hold himself back from raising his hand like an elementary student as he crossed the street. Jeongguk was such a little shit; he had taught the high schooler too well.
As he rounded the corner of a brick building, Yoongi came face to face with the high school Jeongguk attended. It was an old, pale brick building with recognizable faded blue gates. Yoongi looked down at his wrist watch to realize that Namjoon set his car clock ahead by thirty minutes. He sighed, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shuffled his boot-clad feet in place.
/line break\
“But I don’t understand!” Jeongguk grunted, waving his hands around. “How does that even work?”
Hoseok rubbed his temples. “What part do you still not understand?”
Jeongguk makes a vague hand gesture over the whole page of text. “How about the whole thing?”
“You are a lost cause,” Seokjin said, ruffling the youngest’s hair as he placed a bowl of radish kimchi on the table between the studying boys.
“But, Hyung! This is supposed to be an Introduction to Strings class, to help jump start my learning about Strings in high school! It was supposed to be easy.” Jeongguk pouted.
“What was ‘posed to be easy?” Namjoon sleepily stumbled into kitchen, shirtless and with some wild bedhead.
Seokjin chuckled from where he had his hip resting on the kitchen table at how adorable Namjoon was. As Namjoon rubbed his eyes, Seokjin guided him to the chair next to Jeongguk and gently pushed the other into the chair. When Namjoon opened his eyes, there was a mug of coffee in front of him. He inhaled the bittersweet aroma before taking a sip of the hot liquid.
“Have I told you that I love you today, jagiya?” Namjoon asked Seokjin, watching as one frilled apron strap fell from the cook’s left shoulder.
Seokjin giggled as he stirred a pot full of leftover tteokguk, not bothering to fix the strap. “No, you have yet to tell me, Joonie.”
Covering Jeongguk’s eyes, even though the youngest still protested, Hoseok said, “If this is some weird kind of foreplay, get out of the kitchen.”
Jeongguk batted away Hoseok’s hands, but wrinkled his nose and whined. “Please, no. Not where I get food. I’m supposed to eat here.”
Seokjin blew Jeongguk a hand kiss. “When you get a Red String, get back to me.”
Jeongguk pouted. “It’s too early for you to be an asshole, Hyung.”
Hoseok and Namjoon high-fived each other. Seokjin laughed like a windshield wiper, coming over to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair. Jeongguk tried to bat away the oldest hyung’s hand, but Seokjin just whacked him on the neck with a hand slice. In retaliation, Jeongguk did it right back to Seokjin.
“Yah!” Seokjin exclaimed, cupping a hand to shield his neck. “Respect your elders!”
Jeongguk raised a brow and flexed his dominant arm. “I said Hyung.”
Hoseok fell over, wheezing with laughter.
Namjoon smiled and patted Jeongguk on the top of the head. “He’s got you there, jagiya. You okay, Seok-ah?”
Hoseok raised his hand and did a thumbs-up, still laughing. “Just… Just dope, Joon.”
“Just tell me when he puts the weapons of mass destruction away. Then I will serve breakfast.” Seokjin said from his spot at the stove.
Namjoon patted Jeongguk’s arm and looked over the paper. “What do you not understand, Gguk-ah?”
Jeongguk shrugged. “The concept of Strings, what they represent, and what they stand for. You know, the usual.”
Hoseok sat in the seat next to Namjoon and sighed. “I’ve been trying to teach this kid Strings for the past half-hour and we’ve still gone nowhere.”
Namjoon nodded. “I see. So, it was the teaching method.”
Hoseok huffed. “It’s not like everyone can be a great teacher, Joon.”
Namjoon looked at Hoseok. “I didn’t say you were a bad teacher, I just said you used the wrong method to teach Jeongguk.”
Hoseok mumbled, “Same difference.”
Namjoon hummed. “I thought you would see this by now, but our maknae is a visual learner. Just telling him how it works doesn’t help. You have to show him.”
Hoseok looked at Namjoon with a startled face. “Well, I’m not helping with Sex Ed, then.”
“Ha ha,” Namjoon said and rolled his eyes. “If you’re not going to help, get out of here.”
“Ooh~” Hoseok mocked. “Touchy, touchy.”
“Don’t bring up the magician. He has nothing to do with this.”
Hoseok stuck out his tongue at Jeongguk. “Whatever, Joon. You’re no fun.”
Jeongguk raised his hand. “Excuse me, but I’m here to learn. So…”
Hoseok sighed, but got up and left the room, plopping down on the couch and turning on the television to watch a rerun of Friends. “Pfft. I make one Frosty the Snowman reference, and Joon gets salty. At least I didn’t make a Frozen reference because I already know the punchline! ‘Let it go, Seok-ah!’” Hoseok yelled, then blew a raspberry.
“...That kid talks to himself more than I do, and I’m the one getting the acting degree,” Seokjin said as he exchanged Namjoon’s empty mug for another one full of coffee.
“Leave him be, jagiya. I’ll talk to him later.” Namjoon kissed Seokjin on the cheek and slapped his ass as the elder made his way back to the stove.
Jeongguk gagged. “It’s like watching my parents flirt. I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Now, now. We’re not that bad, Gguk-ah. Go fetch me some scrap paper and your colored pencils.”
Jeongguk reluctantly got up from his seat. “So, I’m a dog now, huh.”
Namjoon waved him off. “Go.”
Jeongguk stuck out his tongue as he retreated from the kitchen. Seokjin continued to busy himself there, finding five large soup bowls in an upper cabinet. He grabbed ten stainless steel chopsticks and five stainless steel rice-soup spoons. He passed the bowls and cutlery to Namjoon, who set the kitchen table.
“Is it almost done, jagi?” Namjoon asked, placing the last pair of chopsticks onto a napkin.
“Almost,” Seokjin hummed. “And don’t call me ‘jagi!’”
Namjoon laughed. “No one can hear us. Yoongi and Jeongguk are on the second floor, and Hoseok has the television up too loud to hear us.”
Seokjin spooned out some broth and blew on it before he offered it to Namjoon. “I think it’s done.”
Namjoon also blew on the spoon and slurped up the hot liquid. “Delicious! It tastes just as good as New Year’s.”
“Good!” Seokjin laughed, putting the dirty spoon in the sink. “That’s what I was going for.”
Namjoon got out a hot pad and a pair of pink paw print oven mitts from a drawer near the stove. Placing the mitts down on the counter, Namjoon took the hot pad and put it in the middle of the table. Seokjin, after dawning his oven mitts, carefully picked up the soup pot and brought it over to the table.
Namjoon retrieved five rice bowls and helped Seokjin pile on rice from the rice cooker. While Namjoon set a filled rice bowl at each place, Seokjin got out smaller bowls for sides. He had two kinds of kimchi, radish and cabbage. He refilled the radish kimchi bowl on the table and placed another bowl filled with cabbage kimchi beside it.
In the other three bowls, Seokjin put sauteed bean sprouts, seasoned potatoes and carrots, and japchae noodles. On plates, he placed a rolled and sliced omelette, two rolls of gimbap, and samsaek jeon. Namjoon helped Seokjin carry all of the food to the table.
By the time Jeongguk returned, Hoseok was happily eating his portion of tteokguk and sides. Beside Hoseok, Seokjin fed Namjoon a piece of gimbap. Jeongguk set down his supplies on the island and sat in the seat facing Seokjin, who dished up Jeongguk’s serving of rice cake soup.
“Jeonggukie, do you know if Yoongi’s awake?” Seokjin asked as he passed Jeongguk his bowl of soup.
Jeongguk tapped his chopsticks to his lips. “I don’t think so. He was still up when I went to bed around two this morning.”
Seokjin sighed. “If he is not down here in an hour, I’ll go kick him out of bed, feed him, and tuck him right back in.”
“You’re so nice, Eomma,” Hoseok said, around a mouthful of cabbage kimchi.
Seokjin reached over Namjoon and wiped Hoseok’s face. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Hoseokie.”
Hoseok swallowed his food and asked. “Can you go get me a Sprite?”
Seokjin sighed and got up from the table to get the requested drink. “What are you drinking, Ggukie?”
Jeongguk shoved a piece of omelette into his face. “Water.”
“Did you not just hear me scold Hoseok for talking with his mouth full?” Seokjin questioned as he got the can of soda and two glasses of water.
Jeongguk swallowed and dunked a piece of the jeon into the dipping sauce. “Yeah, I did, and it was funny. So what?”
Seokjin handed Hoseok his can of soda and set one glass of water in front of himself. He placed the second glass of water in front of Jeongguk, sighing at how the youngest was holding his chopsticks. Namjoon took a sip of his coffee as he watched Seokjin scold Jeongguk.
“One thing at a time, jagiya. I’ll teach him how to hold his chopsticks later. Right now, he needs to do his homework.”
Hoseok drank the rest of the broth from his bowl. “I’m ready to see you teach, Namjoon-ssi.”
Jeongguk leaned back and patted his stomach. “Yes, Namjoon-ssi. Teach me well.”
Seokjin snickered from beneath his hand. “I heard Namjoon-ssi’s very strict.”
Jeongguk collected his bowl and chopsticks. “Maybe just with you, Trouble Maker.”
Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows and laughed. “But he’s just so fun to tease.”
Namjoon choked on a piece of jeon. “Hyung.”
Jeongguk got up and cleared his dishes. “Don’t kill him before he has helped me, Jin-hyung.”
Seokjin laughed, bringing his dishes to the sink before starting the water. “As much as I like his reactions, I like him alive much more.”
Namjoon traded his dishes for Jeongguk’s art supplies. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”
“What can I say, it’s rather entertaining.” Seokjin took the dishes from the youngest. “Thanks, Jeonggukie!”
Jeongguk sighed. “Whatever.”
Hoseok brought his dishes to Seokjin. “Just not in front of the kids, okay?”
Seokjin snorted and busied himself with cleaning the dishes. Namjoon, meanwhile, had been drawing all over the scrap paper with the colored pencils. Jeongguk sat next to him and watched Namjoon work. Hoseok went back into the living to finish the episode rerun.
Namjoon separated the colored pencils into two piles, the primary and secondary colors. At the top of one sheet, he wrote Couple – Primary with the primary colored pencils. On a second sheet of paper, he wrote Polyamory – Secondary in the secondary colored pencils. Starting with the Primary sheet, Namjoon made three pairs of graphite circles. The first pair he connected with a red line, the second with a yellow line, and the third with blue.
Off to the side, he wrote the category each line was in. “This is the Red String. It represents Romantic Soulmates and is the most common in the couple-primary class. It occurs when two people are ‘fated to be together’ and is nicknamed the String of Fate, for this reason.”
Jeongguk looked down at the sheet of paper. “Like you and Jin-hyung?”
Namjoon nodded. “Yes, just like us.” He motioned to the third pair. “This is the Blue String. It represents Platonic Soulmates and is also commonly found within the couple-primary class. It happens when two people are meant to be friends for life, whether it be band mates, brothers in arms, or even roommates.”
Jeongguk snickered. “Like you and Hobi-hyung and I?”
Namjoon thumped the graphite pencil on the table top. “Yes and no. Seok-ah and I have a Blue String and you and Seok-ah have a separate Blue String.”
Jeongguk furrowed his brows. “What?”
Namjoon sighed and called into the living room. “Seok-ah, come here for a second.”
Hoseok popped his head into the kitchen. “Yes, Joon-ah?”
“Show Jeongguk your Strings.”
Hoseok blinked but did as he was asked. He came up to the table and raised his hands. Around each pinkie was a celtic-knotted royal blue string, connecting to identical celtic knots on Jeongguk’s and Namjoon’s pinkies.
“If you look closely, you can see differences in the type of knot. Joon-ah’s looks like an atom and Jeonggukie’s looks like a flower,” Hoseok said as the youngest looked as his hands.
“Jin-hyung?” Jeongguk asked, rather excitedly.
Seokjin hummed and looked over his shoulder.
“What does yours look like?”
Seokjin chuckled. “The same as Namjoon-ah’s Red String. You should look at his because my hands are busy with the dishes.”
Jeongguk picked up Namjoon’s left hand. “...It looks like a butterfly.”
“Look at your hand, Gguk-ah,” Namjoon said, gesturing down. “What does Seok-ah’s look like?”
Jeongguk examined his own hand. “I always thought it looked like the sun.”
“It matches my sunshine personality,” Hoseok replied with a blinding smile.
“Uh-huh, sure,” Jeongguk said and crossed his arms.
Namjoon motioned back to the paper. “The last is the Yellow String. It represents Familial Soulmates and is rare among the couple-primary class. When two people are bonded together like a sibling bond, father-daughter bond, and even mother-son bond.”
Jeongguk tilts his head. “Then why don’t I have one with Jin-hyung?”
Seokjin dropped the clean rice bowl onto the floor. It was an innocent question, one that was unexpected. Hoseok flapped his jaw while Namjoon could not think of how to answer.
“Well, Gguk-ah–” Namjoon started, but was cut off by Seokjin cupping Jeongguk’s face with his soapy hands.
“I–” Seokjin took a deep breath. “I would be honored to have a Yellow String with you, Jeonggukie, but my hands are tied. On one hand, I have Joonie and on the other, I have Jaehwan-ah. They are my precious Soulmates and for the first time, I am sorry to be unable to receive more than two Soulmates.”
“That’s fine, Hyung. I just wonder what my other Soulmate is doing and when will we meet for the String to form.” Jeongguk leaned into the touch. “But in the same way, I am grateful to them because I have something in common with Yoongi-hyung.”
Seokjin watched as Jeongguk raised his right hand. There was no String on his pinkie, just bare skin. Jeongguk looked at his bare pinkie with longing. Even with matching Yoongi’s Stringless hands, the excitement to meet his other Soulmate had Jeongguk looking forward to finding his other destiny.
“Now for the love triangles,” Hoseok said as he sat down next to Namjoon again.
“None of them are love triangles, Seok-ah.” Namjoon rubbed his temples. “Maybe it was you and not your teaching method.”
“Joon-ah–” Hoseok placed a hand over his heart. “Why must you wound me so? I thought you loved me!”
“Seok-ah, you must be color blind. Our String is blue, not red.”
Hoseok reached around Namjoon and grabbed Jeongguk. “Why is he so mean, Jeonggukie?”
Jeongguk pushed Hoseok away from him. “He’s not mean; you’re just a crybaby.”
Hoseok covered his face with his hands and fake cried. “You’re both supposed to be my Soulmates. Why are you so mean to me?”
“Being Soulmates has nothing to do with us being mean.” Namjoon pushed Hoseok off of his lap.
“Anyway,” Seokjin wiped his hands on his apron and went back to the sink. “Shouldn’t you be talking about the Poly Strings, Joonie?”
Namjoon looked over at Seokjin as he fended off Hoseok’s make-up kisses. “I will, once Seok-ah stops being emotional.”
“Gross, Hyung.” Jeongguk wrinkled his nose at the display of affections. “You mean gross.”
“I take offense to that Jeonggukie.” Hoseok blew a kiss at Jeongguk. “I know for a fact you like my kisses.”
Jeongguk turned green. “Someone stop him before I really throw up.”
“Green–we will start with the Green String,” Namjoon said as he drew six circles divided into two triangular shapes. In the left triangle, he drew a yellow line connecting the first and second circles. The third circle was then connected to each of the other circles by a blue line. Lastly, Namjoon colored in the third circle with the green colored pencil.
He repeated this process with the second triangle of circles, except the yellow and blue lines were switched. The first and second circles were connected with a blue line and the third circle had two yellow lines branching off to connect to the other circles. Namjoon colored in the third circle again.
“The Green String can be represented two ways, like all of the types of Strings in the polyamory-secondary class.” Namjoon pointed to his rough sketch. “The first way is like the triad of circles on the left, where the first two people meet and form a Yellow String, then find their third and they each form a Blue String.
“The second way is like the triad on the right, where the first two people meet and form a Blue String, then they find their third and they each form a Yellow String.”
“So, what does that mean?” Jeongguk asked, confused.
“With the first triad, there are two Blue Strings and a Yellow. The third, which only has Blue Strings, would be friends to the two people who have a familial bond with the Yellow String. With the second triad, it is in reverse. The third, which only has Yellow Strings, would be like family to the two people who are friends for life.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I can tell that was sarcasm, Gguk-ah,” Namjoon replied.
“Because that cleared it up.” Jeongguk slouched in his chair.
“It’s like this, Jeonggukie.” Seokjin placed the last dish on the drying rack. “The first triad is made up of two friends and a hyung and the second triad is made up of two hyungs and a friend.”
“Oh,” Jeongguk uttered in awe. “Why didn’t Namjoon-hyung just say that?”
Namjoon rubbed his forehead. “It’s an oversimplification, but I’ll go with it, if it helps with the explanations.”
Jeongguk nodded. “Thinking about the Green String, that way makes so much more sense! Is it like that with the Orange String too? That part of the lecture was scarring.”
“Oh!” Hoseok admitted. “Now, I get what you were talking about.”
Seokjin and Namjoon looked at Hoseok and exclaimed. “What?”
“The Orange String is just like the Green String except with Yellow and Red Strings instead of Blue and Yellow.” Hoseok took the graphite pencil from Namjoon and drew squares in place of circles. “Our Jeonggukie, here, was worried because of the Familial and Romantic Strings being interwoven.”
Namjoon picked up the red and yellow colored pencils and drew lines connecting the boxes together in triangular triads. The first triad had two Yellow Strings and a Red String. The second triad had two Red Strings and a Yellow String. He colored the square with the same colored Strings orange in both triads.
He pointed to the first triad and talked plainly. “The first and second feel really lovey-dovey with each other while the third feels like he is watching his cousins makeout.” Then he pointed to the second triad. “The first and second have a brotherly bond and are both in love with the third.”
Jeongguk made a face. “But they are not really related, right?”
“Yes, Gguk-ah,” Namjoon reassured, “they’re not related.”
Jeongguk sighed and relaxed back in his chair. “That’s a relief.”
“What has that teacher been teaching you, Jeonggukie?” Seokjin questioned.
Jeongguk shrugged. “The good, the bad, and the ugly, with a touch of incest.”
Namjoon, who was taking a sip from his room temperature glass of water, did a spit take, dosing Hoseok in liquid. Seokjin used a hand towel to wipe down Hoseok’s face and dry his hair some. Namjoon apologised to Hoseok after coughing.
“Well,” Namjoon cleared his throat. “You have clearly been misinformed.”
Hoseok nodded while he continued to dry his hair. “Yes. ...Very mistinformed.”
Seokjin laughed and sat down. “That was a good one.”
Hoseok peeked out from underneath the cloth. “I have my moments.”
Jeongguk tilted his head and looked back at the sheet of paper. “So, Purple Strings are like if Hoseok-hyung was the Blue String with Jin-hyung instead of Jaehwan-hyung?”
Namjoon looked down at the paper as well. “Yes, that is correct.” He drew three graphite circles in a triangular formation and connected the first and second circles with a red colored pencil. He connected the third circle to the other two by a Blue String, coloring the third circle purple.
Jeongguk looked rather proud of himself for figuring it out.
“Alright,” Namjoon said. “Last variation.”
He began to draw the final set of graphite circles, the first and the last one higher up on the page than the middle one. He drew a blue line connecting the top two circles together. Then, Namjoon added a red stick pointing down to the connected two. Finally, he gestured to the three secondary colored pencils.
“Which color will be on the third person’s pinkies?” Namjoon asked Jeongguk. “And, no, it is not a trick question.”
“...Purple.”
Namjoon smiled. “That’s right. The person with Purple Strings feels Romantic feelings for each person they are connected to, while the other two are just like–”
“No, Namjoon-hyung.” Jeongguk pulled on his teacher’s sleeve and pointed. “Purple.”
Confused, Namjoon looked where Jeongguk was pointing and gasped. Yoongi was stretching with his arms above his head within the doorway of the kitchen. The oldest producer walked over to the table, smacking his lips. He showed off his low riding sweat pants as he scratched his bare stomach from beneath his long sleeve shirt.
Yoongi sat down at the table and surveyed the kitchen. “Why is everyone looking at me so damn funny?”
“H-Hyung, look down at your hands,” Jeongguk stuttered out, still shocked.
“Why would I need to–” In surprise, Yoongi cut himself off as he stared at his own hands.
His hands had the same pale skin and amount of fingers that he went to bed with, but he woke up with something extra. Around each of his pinkies was a String. A specific String from the polyamorous secondary class. Flexing his fingers in awe, Yoongi looked across the table at Seokjin.
“Why–Why now?”
Seokjin sighed. “I guess your two idiots finally found each other.”
Hoseok fumbled with his phone. “We have to tell Bang PD-nim, right? For the official records?”
Namjoon nodded and clapped Yoongi on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Yoongi. You finally got your Strings, and what a beautiful color they are.”
Overwhelmed, Yoongi started crying.
/line break\
Yoongi tugged on the Purple String of his left hand, a habit he had slowly cultivated since the Strings appeared. Students trickled out of the building, just in front of him, with the eye-catching yellow and navy. He watched as two girls posed for a picture near the gated entrance.
When Jeongguk had opted out of the sweater vest, Seokjin had bought the high schooler a black blazer uniform. The black loafers were the only part of the uniform that actually fit Jeongguk, though. The slick black pants, a white button-up, and the black blazer with brass buttons were all too big for his lean frame.
Yoongi shielded his eye from the biting wind, cuddling into his jacket for warmth. His scarf kept his neck and lower face warm, but the rest of him was as cold as ice. Shuffling his feet in place, Yoongi rubbed his bare hands over the sleeves of his jacket and knocked his knees together.
Near the entrance of the school, a little off to the side, there was a boy crouched down on the sidewalk. His black loafers were scuffed and his school bag was on the ground between his legs. The black slacks he wore were dirt-lined. His white button-up was wrinkled and the top three buttons were undone. His blazer was thrown over his shoulders like a cape and atop his blonde hair was a purple snapback.
He seemed to be waiting for someone.
A few seconds later, a tall boy passed through the gates and the blonde boy stood up, dusting off the seat of his slacks. The tall boy wore the blazer uniform correctly, with the blazer buttoned all the way to the collar. He also had a band-aid on the bridge of his nose and a crescent scar beneath his eye. The tall boy smiled down to the blonde as the blonde fist-bumped the taller boy’s chest.
Trying to look past them, Yoongi caught the gaze of the blonde before looking away quickly. It was bad enough he had to wait outside in the cold, but he was not going to get into it with junior delinquents. Halfheartedly, Yoongi pulled on his left Purple String and noticed that the tension was tighter than before. Yoongi looked up just to see the blonde hit the taller boy on the head with his school bag. The blonde waved his arms as the taller boy pouted and lightly touched the top of his dark hair.
Yoongi paused, looking at them. It was not the blonde’s loud yelling or the way the taller boy looked like a kicked puppy that made him stare. No, it was the Purple Strings from each of their pinkies. Panicked, Yoongi grabbed his strings into his hands and whipped the Strings like reigns of a sleigh.
To his absolute horror, the Strings sent the small waves of energy at the delinquents. The wave ended at the knot of the taller boy’s hand first, then the blonde’s hand. Locking eyes with the scolding blonde again, Yoongi scurried around the corner of the brick building. Yoongi leaned over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard through his face mask.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
Yoongi looked up to see the blonde boy in front of him, looking at his Purple String. He tugged at it, causing Yoongi’s left hand to shift lower on his thigh. The blonde boy looked shocked, his dark eyes lighting up. Yoongi straightened and backed away from the boy, until he ran into something solid and breathing.
Yoongi turned around to face the taller boy.
“Hello,” he said, his voice low and grovally.
“So,” the blonde said, right next to Yoongi’s ear, making the older man jump. “What are you doing waiting in front of the school gate?”
Yoongi scrambled to put his back against the brick and rubbed at his ear. “Don’t do that, you goddamn freak!”
The blonde looked at the taller boy and shrugged. “Don’t do what? I just asked a question.”
Yoongi pulled his face mask down under his chin. “You whisper questions into strangers’ ears?”
“Only the cute ones with Strings attached.” The blonde smirked, playing with his Purple String.
Yoongi buried his face into his scarf. He was embarrassed for running away from them when he figured out who they really were, but he was also angry for feeling embarrassed. And maybe he was crying because he finally met his Soulmates after not getting his Strings in high school. So sue him.
But he did not like showing weakness in front of strangers.
“...I think we scared him too much. His eyes look watery,” the taller boy stated, stepping back and tilting his head to the side.
“Really? Even though he looked like he was going to ambush someone at the gate, like a kidnapper?” the blonde said and crossed his arms.
“Am-ambush… Kidnapper…?” Yoongi sniffled, his tears stinging his eyes. “I’m here to pick up my roommate.”
“You look too old to be a high schooler.” The blonde eyed Yoongi before he pointed out, “But you are short enough to pass as one.”
“I ought to slap you, but I can’t hit a minor.” Yoongi rubbed at his eyes, his tears refusing to stop. “Plus my roommates would be mad if I beat up a couple of brats who don’t have any manners.”
“I don’t know if that was a threat or not, but it was a cute try,” the blonde said as the taller boy cooed at Yoongi.
“Stop trying to console me, you heathens,” Yoongi muttered, hiding his eyes behind his hands.
“Stop rubbing your eyes. It’ll make it worse.” The blonde removed Yoongi’s hands from his face, capturing both slim wrists in one hand while the other patted the pockets of his slacks.
The taller boy produced a dark grey handkerchief and handed it to the blonde. “Ah.” The blonde nodded in thanks and patted the underside of Yoongi’s eyes. “There you go. Stop with the tears. We don’t want our Soulmate to cry because of us.”
Yoongi’s tears doubled at the statement.
The taller boy made a wounded noise and pulled Yoongi away from the wall and into a hug. The blonde came up behind Yoongi and hugged his back. Yoongi was sandwiched between his Soulmates. He had Soulmates. They were alive.
Yoongi clung onto them and cried, unable to hear the soothing words the blonde was saying. The taller boy rested his head down on top of Yoongi’s and kissed his forehead. The blonde wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist.
Even though it was so cold, Yoongi felt warm in the embrace of his Soulmates.
“Um, Hyung?”
Yoongi blinked and looked over at the sound. Jeongguk was standing just beyond the corner of the brick building, his nose as red as his fingers. His school bag was clutched to his chest as condensed air clouded around him from a huff.
“What are you doing with my sunbaes?”
Yoongi detached himself from the other boys and wiped his eyes. “I was here to pick you up early, and–”
“We found our Third!” The taller boy sang as he went and picked up the blonde, spinning him around.
“Tae, put me down!” the blonde exclaimed, slapping the taller boy on the shoulder.
Yoongi just watched them and sighed. Of course his Soulmates would be childish.
Jeongguk looked from his hyung to his sunbaes and cleared his throat. “So, Yoongi-hyung, those two are Park Jimin-sunbae and Kim Taehyung-sunbae. The blonde one is Jimin and the tall one is Taehyung. They’re both third-years.”
Taehyung set Jimin down on the sidewalk and smiled at Yoongi. “Hello.”
Yoongi blushed at little, too embarrassed from crying to look Taehyung in the eye. “H-Hi.”
“Sunbaes,” Jeongguk called them over. “This is Yoongi-hyung. He’s a producer who mentors me and you both have heard of his songs. He does Taehyung-sunbae’s favorite part in Cypher Pt. 3: Killer and–”
“SUGA a.k.a. Agust D!” Taehyung rapped loudly, whooped and jumped around.
“Yes,” Jeongguk said. “The one and only.”
Taehyung bear-hugged Yoongi and kissed his face. “Now, I get to have real rap battles because Jiminnie can’t rap worth spit.”
“Hey!” Jimin yelled. “I can rap, just not as fast as our Soulmate does in that Second Cypher.”
Yoongi chuckled and rubbed both of his Soulmates on their heads. “That’s cute that you think you can win a rap battle against me.”
Jeongguk covered his face. “I’d like to leave before you guys get arrested.”
Jimin blinked. “We wouldn’t do that out here, you muscle pig! Not for our first time.”
“Which reminds me.” Yoongi took Taehyung’s and Jimin’s hands. “What is your first bond?”
“Ours?” Taehyung side-eyed Yoongi. “Me and Jiminnie have a Blue String.”
Yoongi tripped on the uneven sidewalk.
“Don’t worry, Yoongi-yah. We can learn to share,” Jimin whispered into Yoongi’s ear.
Yoongi blushed and knew he would loath every second of the walk back to the car.