[taehyung/jeongguk] ; tomorrow.

[baekri]

jeongguk doesn't know how long it's been. it's easy to lose track of the days when they all start to blend into each other, running together in a mess of days and nights that are endlessly repeating themselves. it's not the kind of lifestyle he ever would have imagined. it's not what he wanted, not what he expected, but at least this way he's free from his parents. free from the constant, nagging reinforcement that he isn't good enough and never will be. maybe he isn't. maybe he won't be, but he's here and he's breathing and that's something, isn't it?

the looks that he gets when he wanders the streets have stopped phasing him. he's gotten good at making himself invisible most of the time, anyway. it's a good thing the clothes he was wearing when his father threw him out were mostly black, even if they're fitting a little too loosely now. there's still a tear near the shoulder of his sweater where it ripped against the rough pavement, but the bruise and sting are long gone. his hair is getting longer and a shower would be nice but he can breathe now, more freely than he ever did when he had a roof over his head and food in his stomach. the only thing he wishes is that he could see the stars from the city when it's late and he can't sleep. it's getting colder and the city lights mix with pollution and cast a haze over everything, a dull gray color that he stares at for hours, trying to imagine constellations and galaxies.

eventually he takes up an unofficial residence off of a street that isn't particularly busy. he only comes back to sleep, manages to steal a few things here and there that he can lay down to make the ground less uncomfortable and that fit comfortably into the backpack he carries around during the day. right now it's resting against the stone wall of the building next to his small, cramped sort of alcove. it's not quite an alley but it's enough for him, just big enough to allow him to curl up for a few hours of sleep, at least.

Comments

[baekri]

jeongguk feels like an idiot. he feels stupid, embarrassed for thinking that taehyung had just gone off and left him. of course he wouldn't. of course he wouldn't do something like that, because taehyung is a good person. he had told himself that, had believed it before and he still does. there's no way that taehyung can't be a good person. not after everything that he's done.

but still, jeongguk doesn't expect anything else from him. why would he? the relief comes because it means that he doesn't have to sneak out, he doesn't have to worry or try to think about coming up with a way to pay for this room. it's not that he expects taehyung to take him under his wing, to let him stick around, anything like that. he never expected that, even for a moment. because it's simple. taehyung still doesn't owe him anything. he never did, and he's given him more than enough. even the site of more food surprises him, leaves jeongguk staring a little dumbly while taehyung sets everything out, clearly meant for the both of them.

he still can't wrap his mind around why taehyung is doing this. why would he want to do this? what's the point? it's still nagging at him, because being cared for in any capacity isn't exactly something that he's used to. he's used to taking care of himself, or trying to, at least.

"it's okay," he says, belatedly and in a little bit of a rush. it's like everything else he's said, a little shy and a little quiet because he can't really look taehyung in the eye but he's still grateful. "i mean, don't be sorry. even if you had left, it would have been okay. you don't, i mean..."

he trips over himself, because he's saying too much and he knows it. it's probably because he was shaken up, because he still is, another nervous laugh and fingers still pushing through his hair even though it isn't accomplishing anything. he cuts himself off and nods, reaching for taehyung's clothes again because it's easier than trying to navigate his own thoughts, still too messy and trying to sort themselves out after the brief moment of panic.

"i'm sorry." it comes out quickly, quietly, his own small sort of mumble on his way to the bathroom. he isn't sure if he's apologizing for freaking out or for rambling or just generally being strange or something else entirely. it just comes out, and it doesn't take him long to change back into taehyung's shirt and sweatpants, moving back out into the room to put his clothes back into his bag again.

once that's taken care of he doesn't make any move to pick up any of the food, even though taehyung made it clear that it was what he should be doing. it's stupid but he's still a little bit anxious, even moreso after that little outburst, so he crosses over and carefully sits on the bed that he slept in instead, pulling his legs up to sit cross legged and chewing on his lower lip, waiting for whatever comes next.

[starrystarrynight]

Taehyung barely has time to react to the flurry of words before Jeongguk disappears, escaping behind the bathroom door. It's the most he's ever heard the boy say at one time--it feels like a small accomplishment of some sort. On the other hand, there's something sitting low in his stomach, watching the way Jeongguk's behaving, trying to sort out just what's behind his expression.

Jeongguk's quiet, but there's definitely a lot more going on inside than what Taehyung's privy to.

Taehyung knows he saw relief on the boy's face, there had definitely been relief--and he sees it again when Jeongguk comes back out--but something still doesn't feel quite right. Maybe it's the nervous energy radiating off of Jeongguk or the way he doesn't meet Taehyung's eyes or the clear disregard of the food he had laid out for him, choosing to sit on his bed instead. Almost looking like he's waiting for instructions. For Taehyung to tell him what to do now that he's back, now that he isn't alone again. All of the sudden it makes him feel like he has some kind of authority he shouldn't have. Like he's the well-intentioned but sorely misguided hero in one of his old manga--the kind he always used to love as a child, the kind that makes him cringe in embarrassment now.

For the first time, Taehyung considers the very real possibility that maybe the kid doesn't even want any of this. He hasn't even asked him what he's wanted since they got here. Not really. Mostly he's done a lot of assuming, a lot of offering. It hits Taehyung with a weight he isn't even expecting, shoulders drooping forward, his earlier enthusiasm about the food dulled.

He really is just a kid. But even so he needs to be telling Taehyung just what he's comfortable with, what he plans on doing--not the other way around. The thing is, he still knows next to nothing about the younger boy. And the boy knows even less about him. Really, why wouldn't Jeongguk feel anxious?

Taehyung puts all the food back in the bags and makes his way over to Jeongguk's bed, taking care to sit on the complete opposite end, with plenty of space between them. "This is overwhelming, isn't it?" His voice lowers even more, turning husky, the way it always does when he's being one hundred percent serious.

"Especially when you're used to be on your own. Jeongguk, you know...you know you don't actually have to stay here, right? If you want to leave, it's okay. You can do whatever you want to do."

[baekri]

it's like there are too many thoughts going through jeongguk's head at once. it always feels like that, always seems to get like that whenever he's around other people, and it's been a while since he had this kind of experience. it's been a while since anyone has even so much as looked at him for more than five seconds, let alone spoken to him. it's definitely been a long time since anyone shared a meal with him, shared a room with him. it's been a long time since he shared anything with anyone, because independence is better.

independence is reliable. he can trust himself, moreso than he can trust anyone else in his life. he definitely couldn't trust his parents. outside of that, there weren't many choices, and jeongguk had chosen to leave them all behind. it was better that way. it was okay that way.

taehyung was the first difference that came along. in some ways, jeongguk is still trying to figure out how to handle it. there's just something about taehyung that makes him less independent all of the sudden. there's something about this situation that has turned him into very much the small, probably pathetic kid he knows that he looks like. but he can't help it. taehyung has already offered, has already given him so much. jeongguk still doesn't know what's going through his head, and he still sees all of this as taehyung's space.

maybe that's what has him acting the way that he is. maybe it's just because its easier to wait and follow instructions than to try and act on his own impulses.

he stays quiet, watching the way that taehyung moves. he watches him as he bags the food again, anxiety settling but still there, like a gentle hum just under his skin. he has no idea what to expect now. he has no idea what taehyung is going to say, what he's going to do. he can only assume that they'll go their separate ways, that maybe the older boy will tell him to eat something first and then they'll say their goodbyes and everything will go back to the way that it was. but when taehyung starts talking again, it throws him off guard completely.

for a moment, he forgets his anxiety. instead, he stares at taehyung more openly than he has this entire time, blinking at him a little dumbly, trying to work and piece together what he's saying. somehow, it's strange, hearing taehyung say things like that. it's strange, hearing taehyung give him a choice. but in a way it's a relief all over again, further confirmation that taehyung isn't a bad person. he knows that now. he's sure of it.

"it's .... a little overwhelming, i guess, yeah," he answers after a moment, quiet and honest. he gives another one of those nervous little smiles, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

"i ... um, i mean, i don't really ... have anywhere else to be. or go. so, as long as you were here, i thought..." he trails off, suddenly feeling stupid all over again. maybe he assumed too much.

[starrystarrynight]

Taehyung doesn't say it as any kind of false hope. He doesn't say it to try and mock the boy's situation--which, whatever it is, whatever exactly caused it, obviously isn't something anybody would want for themselves. He only says it because right here and right now, with him, Jeongguk has a choice. It's as real a choice as Taehyung's had been to bring him here. And if the boy decided sticking around in some motel with a stranger wasn't for him anymore, well, that would be that. There's not anything Taehyung would be able to do about it.

He doesn't want to focus on the odd, deflating feeling that comes with that thought. Of course Taehyung would let him go. It's not as if there's anything tangible keeping them together. It's not like he's actually been formally entrusted with the kid or anything.

But Taehyung wants him to stay.

It's so absurd, feeling that way, that it takes him a couple moments to come back and realize what Jeongguk's just said. When he does, looking up through long lashes and dark hair messily stuffed underneath his snapback, the boy's already quiet again, eyes averted. Taehyung's gaze, however, stays fixed. He's soaking in the quiet lull, the honesty, the words that are slowly making him straighten up at attention. As long as you were here, I thought... Maybe it isn't so absurd. Or maybe neither of them really have a reason to say no.

"I don't have anywhere else to go, either." It slips out on its own accord. It's a kernel of truth he's barely had time to come to terms with--a kernel of truth that no one in the world knew before just now. Suddenly Jeongguk has more than a name, an age, an image. And somehow it's okay.

"I did before," he murmurs, fingering the ridged edges of the water bottle next to his leg. He had redressed his hand earlier, smoothed the bandage so it lay as close to his skin as possible, as though it could sink in and blend away. "But I can't go back now."

The words are a closed door. Firm, final, leading Taehyung to find another way out, another path that may or may not be completely and utterly insane. But it's an insane path that he's already made his mind up about. The only question is whether Jeongguk will blindly jump through that window with him.

"Maybe we can stay together instead."

[baekri]

jeongguk doesn't know what he wants. it's hard to think about something like that, to even think in terms like that because for the past month it hasn't mattered if he wanted any of the things that came his way or not. he just made it work. he just got his hands on whatever he could, whatever was easy, whatever was convenient. he did what he needed to do to keep on making it, and he did. everything was okay.

but, ironically, he hasn't put much thought into what he wants. not past a dream, the same one he's had for years, one of himself in the distant future. nothing he could work towards now. not like this, but he convinces himself that he could, somehow. that he would have. that he will. he'll figure it out. things will keep working out. things will stay okay.

he knows just as well as taehyung does that winter is coming. more obstacles to make it harder to keep going the way that he has been. it's hard enough, being on the streets and underage. it would be hard enough just to be on the streets.

jeongguk isn't looking when taehyung starts talking again, but he's listening. he's listening and he hears everything, a strange feeling settling inside of him. because it makes everything real. he knows nothing about taehyung. he doesn't know where he's from, where he's been or where he's going. he doesn't know what happened to him, doesn't know about the bandage or the running or anything at all. it makes sense, that he doesn't have a home, either. it makes too much sense, and at the same time it's almost too good to be true. that someone like taehyung would be lost, too. that someone like taehyung would actually consider sticking together, letting jeongguk tag along with him.

for a few long moments, he's quiet. thinking. shocked and more than a little bit confused. why would taehyung want them to stay together? what can jeongguk offer him? what could he be other than a mouth to feed, a burden of some kind?

"i ..." he pauses, clearing his throat before he tries again. "where are you gonna go? i mean, what are you gonna do?"

[starrystarrynight]

Taehyung kind of can't believe he actually said that out loud. Of course he had been thinking it--he's thought about little else this morning--but he had wanted to ease into that conversation. Gauge Jeongguk's reaction before toeing his way slowly inside, making sure it was even something the boy might want to. But he ran with the thought, the idea of it all, the suggestion falling from his lips without him even meaning to and now he's left dealing with a completely different approach. A plunge right in and hope for the best kind of approach.

Only Jeongguk is shocked silent, and it's painfully obvious. Taehyung has the sudden urge to take it back, play it off in some way, but he knows as soon as the thought pops up that he couldn't go through with it. Taking it back meant would make the words dishonest, and Taehyung is being completely serious right now.

He could do it. He could find them a place, a good, safe place where they wouldn't have to worry about anything. He could find a job, one that pays well enough to support them. He could build a new life for himself. And he could take care of the kid. He knows that he could. That Jeongguk he's only seen glimpses of, the one with a full belly, the one who can relax enough to fall asleep for hours, clean and content and comfortable, the one who offers shy half-smiles when he doesn't know what else to say--he can make sure that Jeongguk doesn't slip away. So much else is gone now. So much is ruined. But this can be different.

It has to be, doesn't it?

Taehyung gathers his thoughts carefully this time around, all slow-burn conviction and eyes that seem to let their guard down, even for just a brief moment.

"I'm going to find an apartment I like, get a job. Just...start over. I want to start over."