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Yoongi had often wondered if it was his red string that had tugged him in the direction of the cafe all those years ago, or if it was truly a coincidence that he had managed to stumble upon the six people that had become his soulmates.
“Have you ever heard of the theory of catching happiness?”
“What, like it’s some kind of disease?” Hoseok raised a contemplative eyebrow, “I’m very glad to be infected if that’s what you mean.”
“No,” Yoongi waved his hands around, irritated that the words he wanted to say wouldn’t come to fruition upon his tongue, “like… you have happiness and you can hold onto it, but the tighter you squeeze the easier it slips from your grasp?”
Hoseok shifted forwards in his seat, a furrow between his eyebrows, “that sounds like a silly theory. Is this one of Jin hyung’s fisherman stories again? I swear this sounds like the one about the salmon.”
Yoongi barely cracked a smile, suddenly fascinated by the rough edge of his thumb nail and the peeling skin around the edges. He knew that plucking at them would make them bleed, that pulling it would be satisfying for only a second before the stinging began, but he couldn’t hold back the urge to tear his nail apart.
“Stop that,” a voice murmured from behind him, a hand reaching over his shoulder to separate his fiddling fingers. His hands stilled under Namjoon’s touch, body sagging back into his friend’s chest as he took a shaky inhale.
“If you need to talk to someone, we’re here for you,” he said gently, arms a familiar weight as they wrapped around his shoulders. Yoongi knew he could talk to them, knew he could tell them everything that was tangled up in the mess of his own head, but sometimes it was all so twisted he couldn’t find a thread to start from, couldn’t figure out where the wave of overwhelming emotion ended and the calm current of logic began. There was one person who always seemed to know, always seemed to be able to understand the way that Yoongi’s mind worked so effortlessly. But he was at work and would be for another hour and Yoongi didn’t want to call him for something as dumb as I suddenly got the feeling that all of this is temporary, that you’re all going to leave me and I’m going to be alone and I-
“Don’t cry,” Hoseok appeared in his vision, his mouth shaped a little like sadness as he thumbed the dampness from under his eye. Namjoon squeezed him a little tighter at Hoseok’s words, but he didn’t round the couch to see for himself. They’d figured out pretty quickly that they worked better this way, unable to maintain physical affection whilst they were face to face. A warmth that felt a little like love coursed through his veins at the patience and tenderness with which his friends treated him, at the feeling of being known and understood in such an integral way. It made the words easier to find, the thread a little easier to follow.
“What if I squeeze the happiness too hard and it all slips away?”
Namjoon hummed contemplatively, the sound vibrating through the top of Yoongi’s head where his chin was perched. It would be easy to dismiss such thoughts as silly thinking, to laugh it off as a split second doubt and to move on. But his friends, Hoseok with his lips pressed to his knuckles reassuringly and Namjoon with his safe embrace, knew better. They never treated his thoughts and doubts as lesser, never dismissed him or laughed at him.
“What if it doesn’t?” Namjoon said softly, “what if happiness isn’t something big that can slip away, but something small that needs to be held close and tightly?”
“Like a worm,” Hoseok interjected, and a watery laugh bubbled up from Yoongi’s throat.
“Pretty sure a worm would die if you squeezed it Hob-ah,” Namjoon admonished playfully, “maybe a penny would be better. It’s small and no matter how hard you squeeze, it doesn’t bend or break. As long as you have it, as long as you have that happiness in the palm of your hand, it’s safe.”
“Safe…” Yoongi whispered, resting his head against the crook of Namjoon’s arm, “I’m sorry I keep having these off moments, I don’t understand why these thoughts keep coming…”
“Don’t you ever apologise for sharing your feelings with us,” Hoseok settled onto the couch next to him, “You can’t control your thoughts, but I hope you know that we’re always here to listen and to reassure you whenever you need us. We’re always leaning on you, and it’s okay for you to lean on us too.”
Yoongi sucked in a shaky breath, swiping the back of his hand over his eyes as Hoseok leaned forwards to wrap his arms around him too. He felt protected like this, completely surrounded by his friends, swaddled tight like a child in a blanket or a caterpillar in a cocoon.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Namjoon said softly, “okay? We love being held tight and close by you, hyung. You make us feel safe.”
You make me feel safe too, he wanted to reply. Instead he just nodded and hoped that the way he squeezed Namjoon’s palm conveyed everything he couldn’t say.
They sat like that until Yoongi’s hands stopped trembling and his breath stopped gasping out of him, until his eyes dried and his thoughts settled down into a dull hum. One glance at the clock told him that an hour had passed and that his boyfriend would be home soon. Maybe they could go out for a walk whilst it was still light out, grab a coffee from the cafe where they had their first meeting, take some photographs of the autumn leaves. He wrestled Hoseok’s arm from where it was pinning his hand to his shoulder and extracted his phone to check his texts.
16:32
Tae: Hyung do you want to go for a walk when I get home?
Tae: Wear the green scarf, it brings out the colour of your eyes :D
16:36
Yoongi: my eyes are brown
16:40
Tae: Exactly ;)
Yoongi smiled dopily at the screen, ignoring Hoseok’s groan as he slipped away from him and onto the floor.
“Stop being cute over Taehyung,” he groaned, throwing a dramatic hand to his forehead, “some of us don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You have a husband,” Yoongi grumbled, digging his toes into Hoseok’s ribs until he was squealing and rolling away, “where is he by the way? I’m surprised he hasn’t tried plying me with food to increase my dopamine.”
A screech from the other room was followed by a barrage of yelling that Yoongi could barely comprehend.
“He’s playing Mario Kart with Jimin and Jungkook,” Namjoon clarified, “and I’m almost 90% sure he’s plotting their murder as we speak.”
Yoongi’s laughter shook his shoulders as he carefully extracted himself from his friend’s hold and padded into the next room.
“Yah Min Yoongi, go fight them for me!” Seokjin jabbed a finger in Jimin and Jungkook’s direction, “they’re cheating at this game!”
Yoongi peered at the paused race on the screen, muffling a laugh at the sight of Jin in 12th place.
“Anything for you hyung,” Yoongi smiled sweetly at the other two who shrieked and began to run for the door. He caught the back of Jimin’s shirt, dragging him back far enough to leap onto his back and dig his fingers into his ribs.
“Sabotage!” Jimin wailed, “this is evil hyung! You can’t use Yoongi hyung against us!”
“Taste your own medicine!” Jin exclaimed gleefully as his rocket shot him straight into first place, just as the finish line loomed into view.
Yoongi hopped off of Jimin’s back and tumbled back onto the couch, a giddy smile stretching his cheeks, “You owe me for this win hyung.”
Jungkook trudged back into the room, pouting as the results of the race plastered the screen, “next time I’m getting Hobi hyung to distract you.”
“Not even my husband can distract me from striving for victory,” Jin deadpanned, shoulders hunched as the next race graced the screen.
Yoongi shuffled his way down the couch so that he could use Jimin’s lap as a foot rest, toes rising to block his vision as he swore and screeched, swatting at his ankles and whining as he fell further and further behind. Jungkook’s face was a mask of concentration as his Wario weaved around banana peels with the grace of a pro. There was only one thing that could distract Jungkook when he was playing games, only one thing that could break his competitive streak.
“Whoah Namjoon,” Yoongi gasped, staring somewhere over Jungkook’s shoulder, “those shorts make your thighs look amazing.”
Jimin and Jungkook’s heads whipped around to face the empty wall.
“My god, you guys are pathetic,” Jin smirked as Yoongi burst into laughter, bubbles of joy filling his stomach at the betrayed expressions on the youngers’ faces.
“You would do the same if it was Hobi hyung,” Jimin bit back, pained eyes watching his Mario bounce off a mushroom and into the abyss.
“I wouldn’t even try to distract him,” Hoseok laughed as he walked into the room, slotting himself against his husband’s side, “I love to see him win.”
Jungkook’s complaints were cut off by the sound of the front door opening and Taehyung’s booming voice filling every crevice of the house, “Honey, I’m home!”
Yoongi had never moved as fast in his life. His feet carried him all the way to the entryway before Taehyung had even taken off his coat, his arms flinging around him to squeeze him tight.
“Wow hyung, you really missed me that much?” he chuckled, but his hands came up to rub against Yoongi’s spine all the same.
“Yes,” Yoongi pouted into the crook of his neck, leaving a quick peck before he pulled away, “leave your coat on, we’ll go for that walk now.”
“Okay,” Taehyung beamed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “let me just go put this milk in the fridge. Oh, and don’t forget your green scarf.”
Yoongi smiled after his boyfriend’s retreating back fondly, fumbling for his coat among the bundles of them shoved into their little cupboard under the stairs. There was a beige one stitched with green leaves that belonged to Namjoon and a ridiculously vibrant one that he knew could only belong to Hoseok. His fingers stilled as he inhaled deeply, ignoring the faint underlay of must in favour of taking in the scent of home. Of Jungkook’s citrus shampoo and Jin’s sweet perfume and the dark musk of Taehyung. If he strained his ears, he could hear Seokjin’s affronted yelling downstairs and the bright peals of Jimin’s laughter. He wanted to take this moment right here, with their scents surrounding him and their voices murmuring a familiar melody and bottle it up, make it into a candle, record it on a tape. He would name it something generic like “Home” or “Family” and take it out whenever he needed a reminder that he wasn’t and would never be alone.
“Did you get lost in there?” Taehyung’s voice was muffled by the wooden door of the closet. He shook off his thoughts, grabbing his coat and green scarf before emerging out into the bright hallway.
“I thought you’d had a little Narnia moment,” Taehyung teased as he laced up his boots.
“Oh I did, I have dinner plans with Mr Tumnus tomorrow so I can’t make it to our date.”
“What a shame, I was gonna take you to that new fancy restaurant down the street.”
“Wait, really?” Yoongi spun around as soon as they’d stepped out of the house, “you managed to get a reservation? How?”
“I have my ways,” Taehyung said mysteriously. Then he broke out into laughter, gathering Yoongi’s fingers in his own and dragging him down the road, “One of the customers at the gallery works there. He said he could get me a reservation for tomorrow so I was gonna surprise you but I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”
“You always were terrible at surprises,” Yoongi smiled, swinging their hands together, “want to grab a coffee and then walk through the park?”
“Sounds like a date.”
Yoongi barely listened to Taehyung’s words as he ordered them coffee, his focus on the space around them, the small building that people walked through day by day without realising what a significant place it was. He craned his neck to look up at the ceiling, the same wooden beams that he had walked under all those years ago staring back at him. Some things never changed. But some things did. The walls had been painted a different colour, the tables had been switched out for something new and Yoongi was not the same person he had been on his first fateful visit to this cafe.
Every human that has breathed has felt loneliness. There is no one else who would ever truly understand us, no one else with an identical journey, identical struggles, identical achievements. It’s the painstaking truth that we fight everyday to ignore, to push aside in favour of finding small corners of relatability to squeeze inside of.
Yoongi had long since accepted his loneliness as a core part of his humanity. Pretending otherwise was a farce he had no desire to partake in.
It took him a little longer to learn that loneliness and being alone were two different branches of the same tree, that one could be cut away despite the other being irremovable. It started with him stumbling into a cafe during a storm, and ended with the shape of Taehyung’s smile before a kiss. It is true that loneliness is a core part of humanity, but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone. It is okay to lean on someone else, to talk to them, to fall in love with them. Love comes with the acceptance that you have lived different lives and will continue to live different lives, but with a hand to hold and shoulder to cry on with lives parallel to your own.
Loneliness lived inside Yoongi, but he no longer lived alone.
“An americano for you my good sir,” Taehyung bowed dramatically, holding out the paper cup like some grand prize.
“Why thank you good sir,” Yoongi played along, taking it from his grasp and sighing in content at the warmth that seeped into his fingers.
The park across the road was brimming with memories, days spent walking through the gardens or throwing frisbees across the field or picnicking beneath the summer sun. Now as the weather had started to cool and the trees had started to shed their sunset coloured leaves, it lay empty ahead of them. Taehyung reached out a hand to brush against the bark of a tree, his tender expression a casual indicator that he too was reminiscing on their adventures in this place.
“When we get married, we should do it in autumn.”
Yoongi almost choked, gulping down a too large, too hot mouthful of his coffee just so he could splutter “ what?”
“What?” Taehyung smiled at him, completely unaware that Yoongi’s heart had taken up a bruising beat against his ribcage.
“You’ve thought about marrying me?” Yoongi croaked from his scalded throat, “we’ve only been dating three months.”
Taehyung’s eyes were fond crescent moons that glittered with the reflection of the sun, “I already know I’m gonna marry you hyung. You’re my person.”
From anyone else that statement would have been terrifying, to be the object of such devotion and commitment was a weighty burden. But Yoongi felt no fear, only the gentle warmth of love that wound around him like Taehyung’s arms. Taehyung’s words were a promise whispered into the void and Yoongi hoped that someday, his heart would be ready to make a vow of the same kind.
He glanced across at Taehyung shyly, fingers creeping through the frigid air between them until they landed in the warm entanglement of Taehyung’s own. His boyfriend looked beautiful every second of every day, but there was something particularly mesmerising about the fall breeze that painted his nose and cheeks a shade of rose against the golden canvas of his skin. Something breathtaking about the way Taehyung stared up at the sky as leaves of russet and ochre and copper drifted down around him like flame coloured snow. It wasn’t difficult for his mind to wander to a pair of rings glinting against their fingers, a symbolic kiss sealing their souls together beneath a crimson leafed tree.
“Autumn sounds good to me,” Yoongi whispered, catching the corner of Taehyung’s radiant grin as he took another sip of his coffee.
If this was what catching happiness felt like, he never wanted to let go.