Chapter Text
Everyone had a soulmate. It was a fact of life: grass is green, water is wet, everyone has a soulmate. At sixteen, a person’s soulmate indicator manifested, though it looked different for everyone. Some people’s eyes glowed upon contact with their soulmate; for others, a lock of hair, an eye, or a patch of skin shifted to resemble their partner’s. Some had names etched into their skin, while others heard their soulmate’s thoughts. Shared injuries or body-swapping were rare but not unheard of. More common were first words inscribed on wrists or matching symbols. Soulmates were everywhere. There were even matchmaking companies for those still searching and support groups for those who had lost theirs.
Jungkook’s own parents were proud owners of each other's names scrawled in each other's handwriting on their wrists. They boasted about having met as children and had known that they were soulmates long before they ever developed their indicator. Oddly, they had matching burn marks right underneath their names as well and a tightness in their eyes whenever anyone drew attention to the scars.
Jungkook knew what the mark really was. He'd known since he was five years old and met a man who called himself Uncle Heechul, told him that Jungkook was growing up beautifully and that he missed him. The moment Jungkook's mother caught him talking to Uncle Heechul though— they'd moved on to talking about dinosaurs and which ones were their favorites, much to Jungkook's delight— she'd dragged him behind her slight frame and screamed at Uncle Heechul, red in the face and shaking with anger. Jungkook had been frightened and Uncle Heechul had just looked resigned, even as he tried to argue something about Jungkook being his too.
Jungkook hadn't understood at the time and his mother had been so angry at Uncle Heechul that Jungkook had been afraid to bring him up again. They'd moved cities that very next month and Jungkook didn't see or hear a mention of Uncle Heechul again until he was nearly fifteen when his eomma was scrolling through Facebook at dinner and showed something to his appa. Jungkook saw just enough of the screen to know that it was an obituary for a Kim Heechul. Jungkook's appa huffed and went back to his dinner after glancing at the screen. “Good riddance,” he’d mumbled. And that had been the end of that.
At that point though, Jungkook had put together who Uncle Heechul had been and that night, curled up safely under his covers, he mourned for the man, for the second father he never got to have.
Because while everyone had a soulmate, every once in a while someone had more than one. Most often it was three people fated to one another, though sometimes two people ended up being fated to the same person while not being fated to each other. Though rarely— very, very rarely, soulmate groups were larger— four, five, even as large as fifteen had been recorded.
In most cases, fated mates no matter the number, stayed together because they were soulmates. But in some cultures, multiple soulmates weren’t accepted. Some tribes in Africa would stone “excess mates” and there were sects in the middle east that abhorred poly-soulmates so greatly that even just a whisper of belonging to more than one person would bring death to that person’s entire family.
In Korea, poly-soulmates weren’t talked about outside of the informational chapter every middle-schooler was taught alongside the rest of the soulmates and indicators unit in school. If no one said anything, no one would ask and multi-soulmates in public were largely ignored and just treated like everyone else. Whenever a public figure came out as poly, proudly introducing their mates to the world, there was a small spike in conversation around the topic but it always quickly faded back into the background and became old news. There were of course, like in every culture, people who were on the extremes of each side of the topic. There were those that hated poly-mates and those that spoke out constantly against the perceived injustices done to them.
To be honest, Jungkook didn’t really understand where either extreme was coming from, he thought that being treated like everyone else was just fine.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Jungkook’s parents. Every time a celebrity came out as poly or a talk show brought up equal rights for poly-mates in the legal system, they’d turn off the program with an infuriated huff. Jungkook’s mother was quiet about her distaste, simply choosing to wrinkle her nose up in disgust and change the topic while Jungkook’s father had no such desire to stay quiet on the matter, loudly proclaiming to whoever would listen how poly-mates were destroying the economy and sanctity of soulmates everywhere.
Jungkook wisely kept his mouth shut whenever this happened and just nodded along to his father’s ranting. While extreme takes on the matter were as rare as poly-mates themselves in Korea, in some parts of the world, mostly America and Great Britain, it was commonplace for there to be protesters blocking roads or burning down churches in the name of demanding more rights for a tiny group of people who already had more rights than standard soulmates in those countries.
Jungkook wasn’t opposed to poly-soulmates but he’d grown up in a house that was. And his parents were good people even with their prejudices and for all Jungkook knows Kim Heechul could have been a horrible person and that had been the real reason they estranged themselves from him. Regardless, Jungkook loved his parents and he knew that they loved him. And its not like he was worried about disappointing them by being poly. It really was rare and the chances of both him and his parents being poly were near-impossible.
So, on the eve of Jungkook’s sixteenth birthday, he sat up counting the minutes to midnight with his eomma, giggling and fantasizing what kind of person his soulmate would be. His eomma wanted them to be a woman so that she could have more grandchildren with Jungkook’s eyes, his appa wanted someone smart and successful so that Jungkook wouldn’t have to worry about finances a day in his life but Jungkook didn’t care about his soulmate’s gender or success— all he wanted was to be loved as completely as his parent’s loved one another.
The second the clock ticked past midnight Jungkook ran to the bathroom, eyeing himself up and down critically as he searched for mismatched eyes or different colored hair or bruising that was not his own, names, first words— anything. He even grabbed a sharpie and drew a little heart on the back of his hand, just in case he was one of the rare soulmates that could write to one another on their skin. But after fifteen minutes of thorough searching Jungkook had to admit defeat and slumped back out to the living room and into his eomma’s waiting arms.
“Your indication will appear, my love,” she murmured into his hair as she stroked his back. “Your soulmate is probably asleep and that’s why nothing has shown yet. Give it time, I’m sure you’ll have an indicator by breakfast.”
Jungkook did not, in fact, have an indicator by breakfast. His heart was still on the back of his hand, untouched, exactly how he’d left it, and no thoughts or emotions that weren’t his own floated through his head. He tried to put up a brave front, smiling when his aunt and uncle video called to wish him a happy birthday. When they asked about his soulmate indicator Jungkook felt his smile tighten as he vaguely explained that he hadn’t seen one yet but he would be sure to tell them the instant he knew what it was.
Over the next few days, Jungkook found himself growing increasingly more anxious at the lack of indicators. There were, of course, those that only got their indicator when they met their soulmates like those whose first words only appeared on their skin when they’re spoken to them or those whose skin burst into patches of color when their soulmate first touches them, but those were the most rare types of indicator and most people with those particular indicators go their whole life believing that their soulmate is already dead until they’re in their sixties or seventies when they finally meet. The thought terrified Jungkook because he didn’t want to wait his whole life to be loved to finally meet the person he’s meant to spend forever with and only have a few precious decades left.
He did his best not to let the dark thoughts consume him, brushed off his friends inquiries about his soulmate and tried to show his eomma and appa that he was okay with the lack of evidence of his soulmate even if he felt a tiny piece of himself die inside every time he thought about it. When Monday rolled around, Jungkook went to school without complaint and ignored the dread that pooled in his stomach at the thought of not being able to avoid his friends’ questions any longer.
Luck was on his side, however, and Jungkook was reminded how amazing his friends were when, after a subtle shake of his head at the first question, all of his friends dropped the issue entirely, even changing the topic when other acquaintances in their class came over to wish Jungkook a belated happy birthday and to ask about his indicator. He got through the entire school day like that and then the school day was done and he was hanging out with his favorite sunbae in the choir room after practice.
Jihoon didn’t talk much, was an introvert much like Jungkook was, but had a quiet steady presence that Jungkook couldn't help but be pulled in by. It helped that Jihoon also had a beautiful voice and their choir teacher often paired them together for duets because of how their voices complimented each other. Their duet practices had quickly turned into after school study sessions together that devolved into them playing card games or basketball.
They were working on their homework, laying on their stomachs side by side on the cool tiles of the choir room floor, when Jihoon gently nudged Jungkook. “Your soulmate’s trying to talk to you,” he mumbled quietly, always considerate of the few other students that also used the choir room to work on their school work after practice.
Jungkook frowned, scrunching his face in confusion as he turned to look at Jihoon who was looking firmly down at Jungkook’s hand. There, right over top of Jungkook’s nearly faded heart were words. Actual words.
Someone save me from this group project.
Jungkook swallowed, unable to peel his eyes away from the words. He should feel excited— downright ecstatic— after his soulmate left him waiting in suspense for three whole days but... but there was something... off about the words. Something that formed a pit in his stomach and filled him with dread.
And how do you expect any of us to do that?
There it was.
Jungkook felt like the world was caving in around him and there was no oxygen. He was in a vacuum. Maybe he’d been spit out into space. He’d read about it once— the horrors of suffocating in space, how your lungs will burst and it feels as though every molecule in your body is being compressed at once. Jungkook thought that this was probably a comparable feeling.
“Deep breaths, Jungkook-ah,” a voice murmured, soft and soothingly. There was a hand petting his hair too, another holding his hand to someone’s chest. “Copy my breathing, kid. You’re gonna be alright.”
It took Jungkook an embarrassingly long time to regulate his breathing again, to remember that he hadn’t in fact been sucked into space and was actually in the choir room. Or, well... he had been. They were outside now— him and Jihoon— who was the one petting his hair and holding his hand and reminding him to breathe.
“You back with me, Kook-ah?” Jihoon asked, his whole face pinched with worry as he gently scratched Jungkook’s scalp to keep his attention.
Jungkook nodded shakily, as he recalled what had happened. His soulmate had finally shown himself.
But he didn’t have just one.
He glanced down at his hands where a few more teasing messages had appeared underneath the first two, all with different handwriting.
He didn’t even have just two.
Jungkook was a part of the vast minority, even more rare than his parents, he had many soulmates. At least five from the looks of it.
He suddenly felt faint and was grateful Jihoon had already helped him sit down.
“Fuck,” he whispered weakly, finally tearing his eyes away from his hand as he tugged his sleeve down over the words. “Fuck.”
Jihoon slid down the wall next to Jungkook and wrapped an arm around him in a rare display of affection. “It’s gonna be alright, kid,” Jihoon murmured, giving him a little squeeze as Jungkook shifted to rest his head on his friend’s shoulder.
“How can you say that?” Jungkook bit out, trying not to cry and failing miserably. “You saw it. I— I have so many. I’m— I can’t—”
Jihoon shushed him gently and carefully slid up his shirt to show Jungkook his indicator. Jungkook had seen it before— had admired it before— it was pretty and sleek, a triangle made up of a few different shapes. There was a small burst of orange in the corner of one of the shapes which had always struck Jungkook as odd but he never said anything, not wanting to insult his friend.
“I don’t know how many I have,” Jihoon admitted softly. “But the first time we touch a bit of our symbol colors in. This orange is Soonyoung. We met over the summer but he lives in Seoul. He’s got a bit of this dark green here, in this corner, that’s our other soulmate, Wonwoo. But there’s still so much blank space that we all agree that there’s got to be more. Soonyoungie thinks we might break the record.”
Jungkook sniffled and held up his now-covered hand. “More than five?” he asked ruefully, though he already knew the answer. Now that he knew the story behind the color in Jihoon’s mark, his friend would be lucky if his soulmates ended in the single digits.
“Definitely,” Jihoon replied with a little laugh. “This isn’t the end of the world, JK. You’re going to have so many people who love you.”
Jungkook tucked his hand close to his chest and fixed his eyes on the pavement. “They didn’t love Heechul,” he whispered. “They didn’t— what if I’m Heechul?”
“Who’s Heechul?”
Jungkook swallowed and shook his head before pulling away and out of Jihoon’s arms. His friend let him go easily though when he turned around Jungkook could easily see the concern radiating from his sunbae. “It doesn’t matter,” he declared, smiling at his friend as he held out his hand to help Jihoon up. “I’m okay, hyung.”
Jihoon didn’t let go of Jungkook’s hand, even after he was steady on his feet once again. “Jungkook-ah—”
“I’m okay, hyung,” Jungkook repeated with a shake of his head and a stiff smile that he knew wasn’t going to fool anyone. “It just shocked me, that’s all. I think I’m gonna head home early, though. Thank you for taking care of me.”
Jihoon looked ready to protest but, like the amazing friend he was, didn’t push the matter and just went back to the choir room with him to collect their things.
“At least reply to them,” Jihoon pleaded softly when they got to the junction in the road where they always split off from one another when walking home. “Let them know you’re there.”
Jungkook gave his friend a stiff smile, thinking back to the heart on the back of his hand that had slowly faded over the weekend without a single mention. “I will, hyung,” he promised. “I just need a little time. It’s a lot to process.”
Jihoon nodded and tugged Jungkook in for a tight hug. “Text me,” he murmured into Jungkook’s ear. “Whenever. I’m here, okay?”
Jungkook gave him one final nod before waving goodbye and splitting off from his friend. Once he was alone, Jungkook no longer fought the urge and rolled up his sleeve to see the messages that had scrawled halfway up his forearm. There was the original message sitting innocently atop Jungkook’s heart, the letters bubbly and rounded, and then underneath it, the response all spidery, spindly letters that curled across Jungkook’s skin beautifully. And then underneath, three more responses all different handwriting, all teasing his first soulmate about how they were on their own for their “big bad group project” as one of his soulmates had phrased it, the letters bouncy and uneven as though his soulmate had been walking while they wrote. And then, underneath their responses, the first one replied again, admitting defeat with a small crude sad face followed by:
Hyungs are mean. If Tae were here he’d come save me.
The message told Jungkook three things: everyone who had written were all men, the first writer was younger than the rest of them, and there was at least one more— Tae.
It was the first name and a part of Jungkook cherished that knowledge even as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest from anxiety.
And then, underneath that as Jungkook was examining it, another message appeared before his very eyes. The words were written awkwardly and a little boxy, making Jungkook think that this person wasn’t writing with their dominant hand.
Sorry Chim. Grandma and I are making cookies so I wouldn’t come save you even if I could. :P
Now Jungkook knew another name— or at least another nickname, since he’d never heard the name Chim before in his life. Jungkook watched his arm for another few minutes, waiting anxiously for any more messages to appear before he finally sighed and rolled his sleeve back down when nothing appeared.
His house was in sight now and he felt fear grip him tight when he realized that both of his parents were home. His parents, who hated everything to do with poly-soulmates, who Jungkook loved and couldn’t disappoint. He swallowed and tucked his hands further into his sleeves, vowing to keep silent about this new development.
Jungkook got through the week like that, and the next, and the next. Jihoon had given him a look a few days after Jungkook had started wearing fingerless gloves to school but kindly kept his opinions to himself. He did ask Jungkook if he’d spoken to his soulmates at all since that first day, nearly a month later, and Jungkook shrugged, as nonchalantly as he could muster.
“Not really,” he admitted, only feeling a little bad for the partial lie. He hadn’t written to them at all, simply sitting back and observing every time a new message scrawled across his skin. “They don’t write much,” he continued. “I think they have each other’s phone numbers.”
In fact, Jungkook knew that they did after Tae wrote on the back of Jungkook’s knuckles telling “Yoongi-hyung” to check his phone or starve. Pretty spidery cursive replied back a few minutes later with a simple “Fried chicken” followed by a very poorly drawn chicken that made Jungkook nearly burst out into laughter.
A part of Jungkook felt bad for reading their messages together without letting them know that he was there but then he remembered that they did know and were just choosing not to acknowledge him. His heart hadn’t been subtle.
By the time Jungkook graduated high school he knew all six of his soulmates’ names: Kim Seokjin (who’s name had been revealed by a rather furious Namjoon calling him out after Jin had pranked his shampoo bottle and dyed his hair blue— the skin around Jungkook’s scalp had been stained turquoise for weeks after that incident), Yoongi (who rarely wrote on their skin but whose handwriting was always so neat and pretty that Jungkook envied it), then there was Hobi (or Hoseokie as Jin liked to call him) who Jungkook liked to believe wrote like he spoke and that he was as bubbly as his letters suggested. There was also Namjoon, or Joon, or one memorable time where Jimin had called him Rap Monster and Jungkook had never witnessed one of them cross out someone else’s message more aggressively than he did in that moment. Then there was Jimin (Chim— as Jungkook had initially thought was his name) who he had learned lived the farthest from the majority of them, though Jungkook never learned where, and was always complaining that he missed them. Finally there was Tae, or TaeTae, or Tata— though never his full name, Jungkook had never learned it— not that he was keeping track though because Jungkook didn’t care about his soulmates, same as how they didn’t care about him.
His parents also stayed blissfully ignorant of his soulmates, Jungkook having taken to wearing over-sized hoodies like armor and kept a pair of fingerless gloves in his backpack at all times just in case one of his soulmates decided to get bold with where they were scribbling, though his soulmates didn’t write on their skin often and sometimes Jungkook would go days without ever seeing a hint of a pen mark that wasn’t his own.
Jungkook loved his parents and he was going to miss them and didn’t fault his mother for crying at the train station when they came to see him off but there was also a part of him that was grateful to finally be away from them, for the freedom to finally wear short sleeves without fearing their reaction if his soulmates started talking. So it was a bittersweet goodbye on his part as he boarded the train.
Jihoon met him on the other side, folding his arms across his chest as he glared up at Jungkook. “Yah, who gave you permission to get even taller, JK,” he tutted before he reached around Jungkook to take one of his suitcases. Another man, taller with a pretty round face, chuckled as he snagged Jungkook’s other suitcase, leaving him with only his backpack and duffel.
“Everyone is taller than you, Hoonie,” the man teased. Jungkook was ninety percent certain that this was the infamous Soonyoung but he’d only seen a couple of photographs and Jihoon always picked the most unflattering images of his soulmate to showcase to Jungkook.
“Everyone except Jungkook,” Jihoon grumbled though there was no heat to his words as he led them out of the train station and into a nearby parking garage. “Until this summer apparently.”
Jungkook just grinned and nudged Jihoon playfully. “A lot can happen in a year, hyung,” he teased. “You look smaller.”
“Yah!” Jihoon barked, faux-affronted, while Jungkook and (probably) Soonyoung laughed at him. “Soonie,” he whined, switching tactics as he tried to garner sympathy from his soulmate. “Why aren’t you defending me?”
Soonyoung giggled and shook his head. “Jungkook-ah isn’t wrong, baby,” he teased as he pressed a button on his key fob opening the trunk on a modest blue Honda four-door so that they could unload Jungkook’s bags. “You are tiny. Fun-sized— even!”
Jihoon glowered at the pair of them. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” he grumbled as he slid into the passenger seat, leaving the backseat for Jungkook and his backpack while Soonyoung got into the driver’s seat.
The couple bickered back and forth the entire way to their apartment and all the way up to their unit to the point where Jungkook would have started to worry about them had they not been smiling and laughing between jibes.
“Your room, JK,” Jihoon declared as they stepped further into the apartment, pointing to a door to the left of the kitchen. “We’re on the other side.”
Soonyoung grinned and took Jungkook’s suitcase from Jihoon, carrying both to Jungkook’s room with the other two men following him with a fond huff from Jihoon. “Do you want help unpacking, Jungkook-ah?” Soonyoung asked as he set the suitcases down by the end of the bed.
Jungkook shook his head as he looked around the room. It was bare but had solid furniture and a comfy-looking bed that he wanted to flop face first into. “I’m okay, hyungs,” he said brightly. “This room is great. Thank you for letting me move in with you.”
Jihoon huffed out a laugh as he patted Jungkook on the shoulder. “No way was I letting my favorite dongsaeng suffer through the first year dorms like we had to last year,” he declared.
“Want us to come get you when dinner’s ready?” Soonyoung asked. “Wonwoo should be home by then too so you can meet him properly as well.”
Jungkook smiled and nodded gratefully watching as they took their leave to give Jungkook some time to unpack and unwind. The first thing Jungkook did once he was alone was give into his desire to flop unceremoniously onto the bed practically moaning at how comfortable the mattress was. He only let himself have a few minutes however before he forced himself to get up and actually unpack, knowing that if he didn’t do it right away it would never get done.
He set up his desk and put away his clothes and made his bed with the new sheets his eomma had gotten him before finally allowing himself to lay down once again. It had been a long day of tearful goodbyes and travel and he figured his new roommates wouldn’t fault him if he just closed his eyes for a few minutes.
He woke up to giggles and annoyed shushing that Jungkook could immediately clock as Jihoon’s which meant the giggling was undoubtedly Soonyoung.
“Shut up,” Jihoon hissed. “You’re going to wake him up.”
“But he’s just so cute,” Soonyoung gushed, obviously trying to keep his voice down but failing miserably. “I want to pinch his adorable little cheeks. I can’t believe you’ve been gatekeeping this kid from me, Hoonie.”
Jungkook could practically feel the eye roll his hyung gave his soulmate as he sighed exasperatedly. “I didn’t gatekeep him. I’ve shown you plenty of pictures of him.”
Soonyoung snorted. “Yeah, ugly ones,” he grumbled, clearly put out by Jihoon’s response. “How was I supposed to gather that he was such a little cutie from those unflattering photos you showed me.”
“Shoulda’ seen the ones Hyung sent me of you,” Jungkook declared sleepily, giving up on getting any more rest. “Didn’t even recognize you at the train station at first.”
Soonyoung gasped in betrayal as Jungkook sat up with a mischievous grin, eyes meeting Jihoon’s exasperated ones gleefully.
“Dinner’s ready, brat,” Jihoon declared, ignoring Soonyoung’s dramatics right next to him. “Come eat and meet Wonwoo.”
Jungkook nodded and stood up, following behind his hyungs. Wonwoo was cool, if a bit quiet, but he clearly loved Jihoon and Soonyoung so Jungkook approved of him instantly and they got along well after a few days of awkward tiptoeing around each other.
By the time semester break rolled around, Jungkook was actually sad to leave his hyungs though he was also excited to see his eomma and appa again after only calling them every couple of days.
Jungkook was halfway down the stairs of his old house when he glanced down and saw a cat appearing on the back of his hand. He quickly darted back up the stairs and threw on the first sweatshirt he could find. After living with three men who knew about his soulmate issue— though all three of them also firmly believed that he should talk to his soulmates which he vowed he’d never do— he’d grown comfortable walking around in short sleeves though now that he was in his family’s home for the holiday break he had to re-train himself to cover up. The last thing he wanted to do was to ruin Chuseok by revealing that he was a poly-mate with soulmates who didn’t care about him in the slightest.
He knew this because while he’d never had the guts to confront them directly, he’d still left marks, mostly smudges from charcoal when he was sketching, or splotches of paint, sometimes pen marks on his fingers when he was bored during lectures. Not once did any of his soulmates ever call the marks out. They just kept ignoring his existence so Jungkook felt it was only fair to ignore theirs as well.
For a while Jungkook had suspected— hoped, really— that perhaps he was one of the few people who had non-reciprocal bond indicators, perhaps his soulmates truly didn’t see his marks, but overtime he’d realized that that was also impossible. More than once his mates had written around his paint smudges in a way that proved that they definitely knew that they were there and were just ignoring them.
That revelation had burned painfully in his chest for days afterwards and had only settled when he’d told himself enough times that he didn’t need them. He still didn’t believe those words but he’d keep telling himself that until they were true.
Jungkook tried to ignore the churning anxiety in his gut as he made sure his sleeves were completely covering his hands before going back down the stairs and enjoying his time with his family.
Mid-way through Jungkook’s spring semester of his first year, Jungkook was paired with Kim Mingyu for a project and they became fast friends. Even after their project was completed and handed in, they still met up for coffee and study sessions near-daily. And with those daily hangout sessions came Mingyu’s soulmate, Seokmin, who Jungkook enjoyed spending time with just as much. Seokmin was emphatic and loud while Mingyu was quieter but no less exuberant when he wanted to be.
Without even meaning to, Jungkook’s eyes sought out the dark patch of skin on Seokmin’s arms when he’d rolled up his sleeves during one study session.
“Oh,” Jungkook murmured, eyes still fixed on that familiar little triangle etched onto Seokmin’s arm.
The pair of them looked up at Jungkook’s soft exclamation and quickly deduced what had caught his attention. Seokmin coughed and pushed his sleeves back down, breaking Jungkook’s line of sight and bringing him back to earth.
“Is this a problem?” Seokmin asked, sounding far more serious than Jungkook had ever heard him be.
Jungkook shook his head. “No, sorry,” he said quickly. “It was just pretty— caught me off guard, that’s all. I’m not offended or whatever.”
Both Mingyu and Seokmin’s shoulders dropped simultaneously in relief. “We have no clue how many we have,” Mingyu admitted softly, careful not to be overheard by anyone else in the cafe they were currently set up in. “But our colors for each other only took up such a small piece, it's— it’s kind of terrifying, if I’m honest.”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Jungkook declared just as softly, though fiercely. “One day, you’re going to have so many people to love you.” Some day soon, Jungkook thought gleefully.
The next study session they had, Jungkook insisted on having it at his apartment— after ensuring that all of his hyungs would be in the residence— convincing his friends with the promise of homemade tteokbokki that had Seokmin and Mingyu agreeing immediately. Jungkook had texted his roommates no less than three times on the walk to his apartment with Seokmin and Mingyu, ensuring that they would all be home. His hyungs were more than a little confused by his insistence but they also didn’t question him, and for that he was grateful because he wasn’t entirely sure he could lie to them outright.
Jungkook greeted his hyungs when they arrived introducing the five to each other as he waited for his friends to realize what was happening. Jihoon was sprawled across the couch, no less than four textbooks spread out in front of him the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he typed something on his laptop. Soonyoung was sitting at the tiny kitchen island, no doubt keeping Wonwoo company while he cooked at the stove where he was— yes— wearing a t-shirt.
Jungkook’s grin widened when Wonwoo raised his left hand lazily to wave at his friends in greeting, unintentionally showing off his incomplete soul mark.
“Hi,” Mingyu said, bowing respectfully alongside Seokmin. “Thank you for having us, we—”
He cut off as he stood back up, eyes widening. Seokmin frowned and followed his line of sight only for his own eyes to widen, his mouth falling into a little, “Oh...”
And there it was.
Jungkook couldn’t keep from giggling happily as he made little jazz hands. “Ta-da!” he sang. His hyungs had noticed what the two younger men were staring at and were starting to look uncomfortable when Mingyu shuffled over to Wonwoo reverently, eyes still fixed on the older man’s arm that was still dangling uselessly in the air.
“I— can I?” Mingyu breathed, his hand outstretched, moments from touching it.
Wonwoo looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on him and he stretched out his arm, mark facing upwards so that all six of them could see the brilliant gold that bloomed when Mingyu gently clasped his hand with his own.
“Holy shit,” Seokmin breathed, stepping up alongside his soulmate as he gently pressed two fingers to Wonwoo’s mark.
Wonwoo gasped as lime green bled from Mingyu’s gold, filling in more of their shared mark. “Wait— both of you?”
“Fuck,” Soonyoung exclaimed softly. “Shit, Jungkook-ah, some warning would have been nice.”
Jungkook’s grin widened. “That would have ruined the surprise. Now you’re five and look— Wonwoo-hyung’s mark is nearly halfway now!”
Soonyoung huffed and stepped up to grasp Mingyu and Seokmin’s wrists at the same time, pulling twin gasps from the pair. Jihoon quickly followed his lead and then Seokmin was crying.
“I can’t believe we found you,” he sobbed, easily being engulfed in Wonwoo’s arms while the others bracketed around him. “You’re really— you’re really here.”
Jungkook’s smile softened as he backed up until he could sneak away from his bedroom. Without meaning to, he rolled up his sleeves to search for any messages from his soulmates. He didn’t know why he still bothered. It wasn’t like he ever planned to try to contact them— not that they’d respond. Though, maybe if Jungkook was annoying and persistent enough they’d at least acknowledge him long enough to tell him to shut up, but Jungkook didn’t think he could take that heart break.
Regardless, his skin was blank, no new messages since Hoseok’s mostly faded “phone died. Be home late” from three days ago.
He pulled out his sketchbook and decided to continue working on his current project while he waited for his friends to remember dinner. He was happy for his friends. It was a strange sort of bittersweet happiness but it was happiness nonetheless. He wanted his friends to be happy with each other— he wanted them to have what he couldn’t.
Sometimes Jungkook wondered what his life would have been like if he’d persisted until he got a solid response from his soulmates. If they would have begrudgingly accepted him, maybe even grown to tolerate him, or if they would have broken his heart six times over. But if Jungkook were honest with himself, he didn’t want to know the truth. His soulmates seemed like kind people who loved each other very much. It made sense that they didn’t have room for him in their hearts when they were already so full.
Jungkook sighed and shook his head to dispel the last of the negative thoughts as he focused on shading in the dog he was working on, letting the soft murmuring drifting under his closed door comfort him.
“You don’t have to move out,” Seokmin said— pleaded, more like— looking far more guilty than he had any right to be.
Jungkook rolled his eyes and tugged his friend in for a tight hug. “I want to,” he promised as he let Seokmin squeeze him as tightly as he wanted to. “I need more space for my art and with Minghao and Jun-hyung working on getting their citizenship you six aren’t going to be here much longer anyways.”
“We’ll always have room for our Kookie,” Seokmin mumbled against the meat of Jungkook’s covered chest. “We’ll get a bigger place and you can just stay with us.”
Jungkook sighed and gently pulled Seokmin away, shooting his friend a fond smile. “It’s not like I’m moving cities,” he bargained. “And we’re still going to the same college for another semester. This isn’t a forever-goodbye. I’m just getting my own place.”
Seokmin sniffled and tugged Jungkook back into his chest. “But you’ll be lonely.”
Jungkook smiled, hating that there was truth to Seokmin’s statement no matter how hard he tried to deny it. “I’ll be fine, Min-ah,” he assured, patting Seokmin’s cheeks to try to dispel some of his tears. “You can call me whenever you miss me and I’ll do the same. How does that sound?”
His friend pouted but eventually nodded. “You’re coming over for dinner at least once a week,” he bargained, making Jungkook laugh.
“Done,” he chirped. “You know I never say no to free food.”
That put a smile on Seokmin’s face as he finally let go of Jungkook and allowed his other soulmates to smother him in affection as well.
By the end of the week, Jungkook was fully moved into his new apartment. It was a nice two bedroom, with large windows looking out over the city, a balcony, and even his own washer and dryer in the unit so that he wouldn’t have to drag his things to the communal one like his old place. There was even a gym which had excited Jungkook greatly while Jihoon teased him that if he got any broader he wouldn’t fit through his front door. It was a little further from campus but closer to the city center where most of his in-person clients tended to be located and since he only had a semester left of schooling, Jungkook had decided that it was worth it to just move into the area now rather than wait until he graduated.
The first thing he’d unpacked was his art supplies, eagerly setting up his second bedroom as his own personal art studio while his friends rolled their eyes in fond exasperation and took it upon themselves to unpack the rest of his things.
Seungkwan, who was the newest addition to their polycule, had followed Jungkook, however, far more subdued than Jungkook had ever seen him before in his life.
“You’re not leaving because of me, right, hyung?”
Jungkook smiled and shook his head. “Partially, but not for the reasons you’re thinking,” he admitted. “I got too comfortable living with your soulmates and forgot that they weren’t mine, you know? You all deserved some privacy and I needed to learn how to live independently from you all.”
Seungkwan frowned before eventually nodding his head slowly. “We can still be friends though, right, hyung?”
Jungkook grinned and passed him some sketchbooks to place on the bookshelf behind him. “I’d be insulted if we weren’t,” he declared with a smile.
And that was that. Seungkwan beamed at Jungkook and excitedly started telling him about his latest group project as he helped him unpack his art supplies.
That night, after his friends had all left, Jungkook took a moment to stand in his apartment and just take it all in. He’d never lived alone before, never had such a large space that was just his. And Jungkook had earned this space. He’d saved up for the safety deposit and furniture and had enough clients, both online and in person, that assured him that he wouldn’t lose his new home. It was exciting and just a little bit terrifying.
But there were perks to living alone that Jungkook was eager to embark on. He ducked into his studio and pulled out the one box he hadn’t let Seungkwan help him unpack. The younger man had given him a look that Jungkook knew implied that he thought he knew what was in the box but the poor kid couldn’t have been further from the truth.
He opened it up, pulling out spray can after spray can, each individually wrapped so as to not make noise and give himself away. It had been next to impossible for Jungkook to sneak out regularly when he lived with his friends but now that he was on his own, he wouldn’t have to be as careful. He still would have to be a little careful though— painting murals on the sides of buildings wasn’t exactly legal, per say, but the city had only painted over three of his murals to this day, most of them being allowed to stay untouched— even other taggers didn’t cover up his paintings— and Jungkook couldn’t deny that he also loved the thrill of it, the adrenaline as he tried to paint as quickly and quietly as possible, knowing that at any moment someone could come around the corner and he’d have to run or be caught.
It was a stupid and reckless hobby but one that Jungkook loved almost as much as painting on canvas. It had been a few weeks since he’d last gone out and he missed it.
Throwing on one of his plain black hoodies and grabbing his backpack, Jungkook slipped his keys into his pocket before making his way out the door and down to the street. He’d had a specific wall in mind for nearly a month now and Jungkook was eager to get started on it. Luckily for Jungkook, the area was deserted when he arrived so he quickly set up and began his painting.
Nearly halfway through, a voice called out to him softly. “Sup, JK!”
Jungkook would have been startled had he not seen the man approaching from the corner of his eye. “Hey, V,” he called back once V had gotten close enough that he didn’t have to raise his voice, shooting him a smile even though he wouldn’t be able to see it under his mask. “How’ve you been, man?”
“Worried about you,” V replied, propping himself up against the wall as he watched Jungkook return to painting. “Where the hell have you been? It’s been nearly a month, dude. I thought you got yourself arrested.”
Jungkook chuckled and bent down to switch out his blue for the green. “I thought you knew me better than that,” he teased as he popped on the spray nozzle. “Nah, I’ve just been busy.”
“Saving kittens from trees?” V guessed playfully. “Because you’re actually a secret firefighter?”
“Not even close,” Jungkook replied with a bright laugh that he quickly tried to muffle when he realized how loud he’d been.
V groaned in disappointment, dropping his head back against the wall. “What’s the point of all those muscles if you’re not putting them on a sexy fireman calendar?” he faux-complained. “I thought for sure I had you this time!”
Jungkook just laughed again and shook his head. “Just because I have muscles doesn’t mean I use them for anything,” he sang. “Though it is fun to throw my friends around when they get bratty.”
“Ah ha!” V exclaimed, careful not to get too loud and draw attention to themselves. “You have friends!”
“This isn’t new information,” he chided teasingly. “Practically old news.”
V sighed exasperatedly though Jungkook could tell how much he was enjoying their back and forth. “I got excited,” he grumbled playfully. “I eat up JK lore crumbs like candy.”
“JK lore crumbs?” Jungkook repeated with a surprised laugh.
“Well what else would you like me to call it?” V countered. “It’s so rare that I ever learn anything about you. I get excited over anything you share.”
Jungkook laughed again and reached down to hand V the white. “If you highlight for me I’ll tell you my favorite color,” he bargained, pulling another bright laugh from V.
“Crumbs!” he explained even as he started spraying, knowing Jungkook’s style well enough by now to not need guidance.
To be honest, Jungkook had never seen V paint outside of helping him, and he was starting to wonder if V even did spray paint or if he just kept coming back for Jungkook. The thought made warm fluttering fill his chest until he forced it back down, reminding himself that V was not his soulmate— that V had a soulmate of his own that he talked about so often that Jungkook was pretty sure he knew more about them than he did about V, himself.
“It’s more fun this way, don’t you think?” Jungkook teased as he switched out for another color, this one a darker green.
“Fun,” V huffed, though Jungkook could hear the amusement in his voice. “Fine, I get a second freebie since you’ve been so mean tonight.”
Jungkook laughed and gave V a playful bow. “Have at it,” he declared cheerily.
“You’re actually... hmm, not a profession you have to use all those useless muscles for.... I’m gonna go... preschool teacher?”
“I do love babies,” Jungkook replied with a giggle. “But being responsible for other people’s children terrifies me.”
“Aha!” V exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Jungkook. “So you have children of your own!”
Jungkook burst out laughing, bending himself in half with how hard he was laughing. The look on V’s face, so full of excitement and pride, was so absolutely ridiculous paired with his accusation that Jungkook wouldn’t have been able to stop himself even if he’d tried. “You are so far off the mark I honestly feel a little bad for you.” He wiped away the tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. “Red,” he continued once he’d caught his breath, turning back to his painting. He was nearly done now, just a few more sections to fill in and he’d be able to pack up. “That’s my favorite color.”
V hummed thoughtfully. “I would have never guessed that,” he admitted thoughtfully as he highlighted a few more points before capping the spray can and putting it back in Jungkook’s back. “It always amazes me,” he murmured as he stepped back to take in the nearly finished painting. “How you’re able to make these so quickly and still make them look so good. Are you secretly Bansky, perhaps?”
“You’ve used up your allotted guesses for tonight,” Jungkook teased as he capped his paint as well and stepped back to admire the painting next to V. “Guess you’ll have to save it for next time.”
“Damn,” V hummed, not sounding put out at all. “Hey, you wanna get some skewers before you disappear again? There’s a night market not far from here.”
Jungkook thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Sure, why not,” he agreed amicably. “I could eat.” He shouldered his bag and pretended like he didn’t see the little fist pump V did. Jungkook liked V—enjoyed the time they spent together—but they rarely ever hung out outside of their illegal night time shenanigans. He could count on one hand how many times they ever did anything besides paint.
Once they were a few blocks away, Jungkook shrugged off his over-sized hoodie, tying it around his waist and leaving him in just a form fitting black long sleeved t-shirt. He caught sight of his fingers, seeing the paint that had accumulated around his fingertips from spray painting. Jungkook never wore gloves when spray painting. Maybe it was a bit dumb, but there was a small vindictive part of him that liked reminding his soulmates that he still existed, even if he knew that they’d never acknowledge him.
Beside him, V whistled. “Is your soulmate just constantly drooling over you?” he teased as he let his eyes travel up and down Jungkook’s chest. “Do they make you walk around shirtless?”
Jungkook hummed with a careless shrug of his shoulder. “Haven't actually met them yet,” he admitted, doing his best to sound unaffected by this fact. He was nearly twenty-four, almost done with college, his entire life planned out except for the one thing everyone seemed to be most focused on. The one thing that he couldn’t have.
Because they didn’t want him.
That wasn’t something he ever wanted to share with V, however. He kind of liked having someone who didn’t know that his soulmates didn’t have room in their hearts for him. That he was an Uncle Heechul; unwanted and unloved by the people who were supposed to love him the most until the day he died.
“I’m sorry,” V murmured softly, playful mood dampened. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. I feel so grateful that I’m the youngest and that I didn’t have to wait for any of them.”
“Them?” Jungkook asked and then immediately felt bad for calling V out.
His friend didn’t look put out however and nodded easily, boxy smile back on his face. “Yeah, I have... a few,” he admitted with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. “More than a common amount.”
Jungkook laughed. “Very specific,” he teased, not at all insulted by V’s avoidance of the question. “I imagine you’re a handful.”
V gasped in faux-shock. “I am an angel,” he exclaimed. “Now some of my other soulmates on the other hand...”
“Mhmm,” Jungkook hummed unconvincingly as he followed V further towards the downtown area and into a small park where there were pop-up food stalls and other little markets scattered around.
They bought themselves skewers and some bungeoppang before walking around the park a bit until they found an unoccupied bench.
“I've learned so much about you today,” V mused cheerily. “Your favorite color’s red, you're not a firefighter despite your muscles saying otherwise, and you haven't met your soulmate yet. Which is... Honestly a horrible thought. I'm so glad I'm the youngest. I can't imagine what it was like for Jin-hyung those first few months before our cat-hyung came of age. Or what it's like for you. Do you have a shared symbol? Have they not registered in a database?”
Jungkook shook his head, feeling a cold creep up his spine at the mention of Jin. It was a common name, he reminded himself, and an even more common nickname. The chances of V having the same Jin as Jungkook did was next to impossible.
But it wasn't impossible, no matter how much Jungkook tried to reassure himself.
V gently nudged him, his happy smile having morphed into a slight frown that was growing more worried by the second. “You alright, JK?” He asked
Jungkook nodded before shaking his head to clear it. V— kind, funny V— could not be one of his soulmates. Before Jungkook could stop himself he blurted out, “What if you found out you had another soulmate?” He immediately wanted to slap himself but it still wasn't enough to keep him from running his mouth more, years of insecurities bubbling up to the surface and spilling past his lips. “Would you ever reach the point where you and your soulmates agreed that enough was enough and, like, unanimously agreed to ignore your newest soulmate? You know, like pretending that they didn't exist? Because, you know, you've all been established for a long time and someone new could... I don't know, shake up the dynamic or something.”
He glanced over at V, relief flooding his body when he saw the horrified look on his face as he shook his head. “I don't care how many soulmates I end up with,” he declared passionately. “I’d love them all the same.” He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment though no less sincere. “I don't know what we'd do with a sixteen year old at this age— the thought of having another mate so young kind of scares me a bit— but we'd make it work. We'd never ignore them— their soul was literally made for us.”
Jungkook nodded, feeling a weight fall off his shoulders while another one lodged itself in his stomach. Of course V wasn't his soulmate but it also raised the question of what was so wrong with him that his soulmates couldn't stand even acknowledging him.
“What brought this on?” V asked, eyes wide and searched.
Jungkook shook his head, stuffing another bungeoppang into his mouth to divert his friend's attention.
V gently reached out and wrapped his long fingers around Jungkook's wrist. “If they can't see your worth then they don't deserve you, JK.”
Jungkook swallowed and tried to blame the tightness in his throat to the fish cake.
Jungkook sighed as he stripped off his shirt, sweat dripping down his neck as he used his t-shirt to dab it away. If he didn’t have such an important client’s project due that week, he would have gone over to Jihoon’s apartment. As it was, Jungkook's heater was on the fritz and blasting hot air non-stop and he was stuck inside working on a massive painting of his client’s childhood home. It was turning out beautifully and Jungkook was genuinely really proud of it but he was also sweltering. Even with the windows open to let in the chilly April evening air it still didn’t do much to help Jungkook’s situation.
And so, he had resorted to stripping down to his underwear as he painted. It wasn’t the most ideal, and it meant that he ended up dripping more paint on himself, the little droplets creeping down his stomach uncomfortably, but it was his best and only option.
It was because of this, that Jungkook had a front row seat when large bold letters appeared down his arm. Thick and black, as though written with one of those industrial sized sharpies, and in Jimin’s choppy handwriting.
ASSHOLE
At first Jungkook thought that Jimin had written that to him, finally reaching out after years of silence, just to call him out for the droplets smeared across their abdomen. He froze, paintbrush centimeters from the canvas as he stared at the word in shock, waiting for Jimin to write more— explain himself, ideally.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Jungkook almost blanched until he realized that this was Yoongi writing on his palm, not Jimin, and was most likely chiding Jimin for scribbling so obnoxiously down everyone’s arm. Or, at least Jungkook hoped that that was what he was chiding him for and not because he’d actually written to Jungkook for the first time and acknowledged his existence.
There was a moment of silence before Jimin’s hurried words appeared under Yoongi’s. At least he was using a pen now.
I’m so sorry Hyung! I wasn’t thinking.
Clearly. Wash it off.
Nothing more was written and a few moments later Jungkook watched as the pen marks disappeared. The ‘ASSHOLE’, however, stayed strong. Jungkook watched as a few patches started to lighten but whatever Jimin was using to wash off the permanent marker clearly wasn’t working.
What in the world were you thinking, Jimin-ah? Namjoon scolded when it appeared that Jimin had given up trying to wash off the swear word. You know Yoongi has a concert tonight.
Jimin’s words came quick and even more sharp, his letters shaky. Tae broke my phone and I didn’t THINK. I’m so sorry Hyung. It won’t come off. I’m so STUPID.
Keep trying. Namjoon wrote. We’re already at the venue and it’s way too hot here for him to cover up.
Jungkook swallowed thickly, watching as minimal progress was made at removing the word.
Jiminie. Please. Yoongi’s words looked shaky and no doubt desperate, the ink splotchy and smudging from palm sweat, if Jungkook had to guess.
Unease churned in his gut as he watched Jimin apologize once again when he failed to erase the word. He felt bad for them, Jungkook realized when his stomach twisted, and it angered him. Because his soulmates have been nothing but cruel to him, ignoring his existence and pretending like they couldn’t see him even though he knew that they could.
But they were also his soulmates and he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that loved them because they were his soulmates and he’d seen bits and pieces of them through his skin over the years that he couldn’t help but adore: Jin’s hastily but neatly scribbled grocery lists and recipes, Yoongi’s lyrics, Hoseok’s little positive reassurances to his mates, Namjoon’s love for all things plants, Jimin’s mischievous games of hangman and tic tac toe with whoever would play with him, and Tae’s obsession with fashion. They were good people, that Jungkook was sure of. Even if they weren’t good to him.
Without further thought, Jungkook dipped his paintbrush back into his pallet, picking up blue with a little bit of white on one corner before carefully pressing it to the ‘O’. Immediately, his palm lit up with messages but he continued to paint over Jimin’s mistake. Covering his arm with colorful flowers and creeping vines interlacing them until he could no longer see any traces of the sharpie and the messages on his palm had stopped.
He scrunched his nose at the uncomfortable feeling of the acrylic drying on his skin, wanting nothing more than to scratch it off. Instead, he carefully turned his arm and revealed his palm, skimming over the plethora of exclamations and demands to know who he was, already smudging and barely legible. But, underneath all that, written in small neat handwriting tucked away between his pinkie and ring finger, was a ‘thank you’ in Yoongi’s handwriting. It was already starting to smudge but the words were still readable, clearly his soulmate had tried to put it in a spot where it wouldn’t immediately be washed away by sweat and movement.
Jungkook didn’t respond to any of them and instead forced himself to focus back on his actual painting. Hours later, after he’d successfully finished his client’s painting and had retired to the couch to watch a show while he waited for... he didn’t know, honestly. Jungkook hoped that one of them would at least tell him when he could wash off the itchy paint. If he didn’t hear from them by two in the morning he promised himself that he’d wash it off anyways.
Almost as if reading his mind, Yoongi’s handwriting appeared on the back of his hand, words barely grazing the lowermost flower on Jungkook’s arms.
Thank you again. You can wash it off now. I’m sure it’s itchy.
And then:
Who are you?
Jungkook swallowed the lump forming in his throat and got up, b-lining it to the shower to clean himself and never responded.
The messages didn’t stop.
Every day, every hour, there was a new message on his hands or crawling up his arms from his soulmates begging him to tell them who he was, that he didn’t need to be scared, that they were so grateful but to please give them something to know that he was still there.
Jungkook ignored it all. Frustration burned in his stomach like a hot poker that this was what made them finally acknowledge him after years spent actively ignoring his existence. He’d tried so many times to get them to acknowledge him, never with words, he was far too cowardly for an outright rejection like that, only for them to continuously pretend like they couldn’t see him. He wasn’t sure if it was because he finally did something drastic, if it was because he saved Yoongi from embarrassment or shame or whatever, or if it was something else, but regardless, Jungkook did not appreciate his soulmates waiting until now to finally try talking to him.
He started wearing his fingerless glove again, determined to resist the temptation to answer their pleas by not looking but every once in a while, Jungkook saw a message.
Please, little artist, just your name?
Who are you, sweetie?
Can you draw for me again? Please?
Make a mark— anything. Just let us know you’re still here.
Jungkook ignored it all.
He was ultra careful not to get paint on his skin now, though it happened, and he always washed it off as soon as he noticed it, but his soulmates always jumped on it, asking him what he was painting, if he was okay, if he was safe. It made Jungkook’s skin crawl and his heart ache simultaneously.
Jihoon and his cluster were worried about him too, but for an entirely different reason. Jungkook hadn’t worn his gloves since he lived with his parents, and the second Jihoon had seen them he’d demanded to know what had happened. And Jungkook didn’t know what to tell him, didn’t know how to explain that he’d done something monumentally stupid and now his soulmates were now being obnoxious out of guilt or greed— not that he knew which.
It would make sense for them to want to know who he was if he was a famous artist. His painting that he did on his arm was good— a part of him wanted to recreate it on canvas and had already started the process even though he knew that he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be a hard leap for his soulmates to assume that he made a living off of his art— he did, to be fair, but he was comfortable, not excessively wealthy like he assumed his soulmates believed him to be— and they now wanted a piece of his presumed lavish lifestyle. Just the idea alone made Jungkook’s stomach churn in disgust. That his soulmates would stoop so low infuriated him and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep his tongue.
“Yah, JK!” V called, shooting Jungkook his signature wide, boxy smile. “Let’s get lamb skewers tonight.”
Jungkook chuckled and gave V a distracted nod as he carefully swiped his gloved finger through the wet paint, blending the colors together just right. V saddled up beside him and hummed appreciatively.
“I have no idea how you do it,” V murmured as he slung his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder once he’d finished.
Jungkook frowned, V’s voice was far more subdued than he usually was, even though it was clear that he was trying to hide it.
“Want to talk about it?” Jungkook offered as he leaned into V’s hold for a moment before stepping away to put all of his things back into his bag. He slipped his gloves off when his back was turned, tucking the evidence away in a side pocket before slipping on his normal fingerless gloves.
Behind him, V sighed, shooting Jungkook a rueful smile when he turned back around. “That obvious, huh?” he tried to tease, the joke falling flat.
Jungkook just shrugged and shouldered his backpack before gently clapping V on his back a few times as they made their way away from his most recent crime. “Only if you know what to look for,” he admitted. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. We can just get lamb skewers and you can try to guess my profession again.”
“Ohhh profession, huh?” V teased, the first genuine smile of the night making its way onto his lips. “Not a job? You’re a professional?”
“I definitely wouldn’t call what I do a job,” Jungkook admitted playfully. “Though I’m not sure it’d be considered a profession either.”
V’s eyes glittered in excitement. “Are your parents accepting of your work, I wonder?”
Jungkook smiled and shrugged again. “They weren’t at first, but once I proved that I could do it they were on board. More because they didn’t want me to have a hard life than because they didn’t approve of what I was doing, if you know what I mean.”
V hummed and nodded thoughtfully. “Strangely, I do,” he said. “My eomma thought I was throwing my life away when I told her what I was going to college for. The only reason she didn’t completely lose it was because my oldest soulmates were already out of school and successful so she didn’t have to worry about me if I failed. I didn’t— by the way.”
“I had no doubts,” Jungkook admitted with a smile.
V smiled back as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you— Do you remember when you asked me what I’d do if we got another soulmate?”
Jungkook swallowed thickly before nodding cautiously, dread settling in his stomach.
“We got another one,” V whispered after a few moments of silence. “They’re— they must be so scared but they were so kind despite that. They— they saved Suga-hyung. But— god, JK they’re just sixteen. I’m supposed to be happy but all I feel is guilt.”
Jungkook frowned and gently wrapped his arm around V’s shoulder as they walked. “Why would you feel guilty?” he asked.
“Because when they appeared I felt... there was a moment that— that I didn’t want them. There still is a part of me that wishes that they weren’t our soulmate... It’s just— they’re so young. Jin-hyung is thirty. And I’m— I’m twenty-six, JK... Our soulmate is a decade younger than me.”
“Are you going to ignore them?” Jungkook asked, feeling a tightness he didn’t want to acknowledge growing in his chest.
“No,” V breathed out, horrified. “We’re— we’re trying... as scared as we are, we know that our soulmate must be more scared. They’re— they’ve been radio silent since they helped us and it’s— it’s driving Jin-hyung and Joon-hyung crazy. The others are also constantly worried about it but they’re a bit better about hiding it. And I’m— I’m just a mess.”
Jungkook sighed and squeezed V’s shoulders gently. “I’m sure your newest little soulmate will come around, V-hyung. They’ve got a good cluster and they’ll see that. I’m sure they just need some time. I know I’d need some time to process suddenly having so many older soulmates.”
V frowned and eyed Jungkook carefully but didn’t call him out for the obvious truth in his voice. They were silent for a moment before suddenly V gasped dramatically, pulling away from Jungkook to point at him accusingly. “You called me hyung!” he accused, a wide, excited smile stretching across his lips.
Jungkook smirked and gave the older man a halfhearted shrug. “Oops?”
“No— no oops,” he barked out gleefully. “I told you my age— you’re younger than me! Oh I can’t wait to tell the hyungs! How much younger are you?”
Jungkook smiled and shrugged again. “Oh look, there’s the skewer stall,” he sang, pointing to the food stall in the park they always seemed to gravitate to whenever they got late night snacks together.
V gasped and reached out to grasp onto Jungkook’s shoulders firmly, attempting to hold him in place. “No, you will not distract me,” he exclaimed. “My little JK is actually younger than me. I’m a hyung to my favorite little criminal! Oh my god... I should be telling you off for what you do!”
Jungkook just rolled his eyes and easily shifted V’s grip so that he was tucked under Jungkook’s arm as he led him over to the food stall, ordering enough skewers for the both of them. Jungkook paid while V gasped dramatically, much to the vendor’s amusement.
“Wait— I’m the hyung, I should be paying!” he exclaimed, trying to slap Jungkook’s card out of his hand unsuccessfully.
Jungkook just chuckled and accepted his receipt as he led his hyung off to the side to wait for their food. “You paid last time,” he explained with an easy shrug. “It’s my turn.”
V cooed, turning in Jungkook’s grip to cup his cheeks. “Such a sweet dongsaeng,” he sang, squeezing Jungkook’s cheeks for a few seconds longer before letting him go to collect their food.
“You know,” V started again once they’d found an unoccupied bench to sit down on. “I always wanted to be a hyung... I’ve always been the youngest and I always thought... you know it’d be so cool to be a hyung to one of my soulmates but... now that I am, I’m—”
“It’s going to be okay, hyung,” Jungkook murmured as he gently squeezed V’s shoulder. “Your soulmate is lucky to have you.”
V took a deep breath and nodded determinedly. “I’ll be the best hyung this kid could ever ask for,” he declared firmly. “I swear it.”
Jungkook nodded and squeezed his shoulder again. “I have no doubt,” he murmured. “Your soulmate is in good hands— the best— with someone as great as you looking after them.”
“Did yours not look after you?” V asked softly, gently setting one of his large hands on Jungkook’s thighs.
Jungkook instinctively tugged on his sleeves to make sure that his arms were covered and shrugged, aiming for nonchalant though he was sure that V saw right through him. “They wanted nothing to do with me until they thought they had something to gain by pretending like they wanted me,” he admitted after a few moments of silence, embarrassment warming his face at admitting aloud how little his soulmates thought of him.
“They’re stupid,” V declared fiercely as he shifted to tuck Jungkook under his arm. “God, I’d kill to have you as a soulmate. They must be the dumbest people in the world to not see how incredible you are.”
Jungkook swallowed, and looked away from V’s intense expression so as to not start crying. He wasn’t overly successful but V, the wonderful, kind person that he was, didn’t mention the few tears that escaped from the corners of his eyes.
When Jungkook got home, he tugged out a blank canvas and set it up on an unused easel in his living room. Typically, Jungkook tried to keep from bringing his paintings out of his studio but with both of the easels in his studio being taken up by client projects and the overwhelming urge to paint something for himself, he saw no point in sticking to his rule.
Jungkook’s soulmates wanted him to paint again and he was going to. But this time he was going to paint for himself, not for them. They would never know, he promised himself. He was going to reclaim the painting he did on his arm for himself and hang it in his living room just to spite them.
He ignored Tae’s newest message scrawled across his wrist as he changed into something more comfortable to paint in.
Whenever you’re ready, little artist. We’ll be here.
V’s hand was clenched tightly in Jungkook’s as they ran through the streets. The older man was giggling, muffling his mouth with his other hand as they ducked around other pedestrians and around corners with lightning speed. There were two policemen not far behind, chasing them as they shouted for the pair to stop.
Jungkook huffed, trying not to break into a wide grin as well, as they continued trying to escape. It didn’t take them long to lose their pursuers as they ducked under an awning in the next alley. Jungkook threw up his hood and bracketed V’s body with his own, caging him against the door as though they were a couple just taking shelter from the downpour instead of two criminals hiding from the police.
The officers ran past them, oblivious to their presence, but Jungkook waited another few moments before pulling away and shrugging out of his sweatshirt and reversing it. He’d found this particular hoodie at a thrift store a few weeks ago and had instantly fallen in love with it. It was one of those reversible ones, black on one side and bright purple on the other. He shrugged it back on so that it was now purple before tugging V’s beanie off of his head and shoving it in his friend’s pocket and bending down to snatch his discarded backpack that he had dropped between their feet.
“That was reckless of you, hyung,” Jungkook scolded as he slipped his hand back into V’s and tugged him back out onto the street as they blended in with the crowd.
“It was fine,” V said with a nonchalant shrug, though Jungkook could see him glancing around as he tried to spot any police.
Jungkook tugged on his hand as he pulled V along in the direction of his apartment. “Stop being so obvious,” he chided. “Just... look normal, or whatever.”
V giggled but nodded his head as he let Jungkook lead him away from the busy downtown area. “Where are we going?” he asked, swinging their hands back and forth lightly.
Jungkook sighed, mildly exasperated with how at ease his hyung was after nearly getting arrested. “My apartment,” he said with a huff as he scanned his key card to get into his building, pulling a willing V behind him. “You can lay low here for a few hours until the rain stops.”
V pretended to swoon as he followed Jungkook into the elevator with a wide grin. “I get to see my favorite little dongsaeng’s home?” he sang, overtly pleased for someone who resembled a drowned rat more than a human as he and Jungkook dripped all over the elevator.
“Not if you’re going to be annoying about it,” Jungkook grumbled as the elevator doors opened.
V giggled and pretended to zip his lips as he grinned widely over at Jungkook, following him cheerily to Jungkook’s door and slipping inside when the younger man invited him.
“Stay here,” Jungkook ordered as he kicked off his sopping wet shoes and dropped his backpack in the entry way. “I’ll get us some towels and dry clothes for you to change into.”
“Thank you, JK-ah,” V replied, smiling brightly at him as Jungkook ducked into the bathroom to grab some towels.
He raced back over to V, handing him the largest and fluffiest of the stack so that the older man could start drying off while he gathered some clothes from his bedroom.
Just as Jungkook removed his shirt, wanting to change into something dry quickly so that he didn’t trail more water around his apartment than necessary, V called out to him.
“JK,” the older man called shakily, startling Jungkook at how uneasy and scared V sounded. “Where did you get this?”
Jungkook frowned, abandoning getting dressed in favor of draping his towel over his shoulders and scooping up a change of clothes for his friend before trekking back out to the living room to see what had V so freaked out.
He found the older man standing in front of his newest painting, the one he’d made, first on his skin and then on canvas, that he’d hung up proudly above his television. “The painting?” Jungkook asked as he set the pile of clothes down on his coffee table next to V and brought his own towel up to scrub roughly at his hair. “I made it. Honestly, I can’t believe that you hadn’t guessed that I was a professional artist yet. It’s the most obvious profession.”
Taehyung turned around to face Jungkook, eyes wide and frightened as he stared at Jungkook’s confused face before they trailed down to Jungkook’s exposed torso and arms.
“JK?” V whispered, his eyes fixated on the writing on Jungkook’s arms. “You’re... you’re our artist?”