Archive of Our Own ^beta

It begins with the late subway ride to Yeouido Station.

After climbing over the iron fence, check every step of the way while crossing the rails to the other side and burrow past the bushes to the narrow walkway towards the underside of the bridge.

Only after checking for CCTV and any passersby as well as turning off any location tracking devices can the work really begin.

Hoseok never really understood graffiti art when he was younger, not until later in high school where he was dragged along by some kid three years younger than him after complaining about the pressures of school.

Jungkook was a funny kid, but he always meant well when it came to caring for others, despite his methods being slightly more than ordinary.

A lot of very paranoid thoughts went through Hoseok’s head when he was led to a quiet alley near an abandoned building, so the end result of Jungkook pulling out spray cans from his backpack was a relief. But then he got nervous again.

“Isn’t this illegal?” Hoseok frowned at the boy shaking the spray bottle in his hand, spraying out quick spurts of paint to test it. “It’s vandalism.”

“It’s misunderstood art,” Jungkook told him and began to streak the worn-out walls with huge black curves that appear like magic.

Hoseok spent that first night just watching him turn the run-down wall into a canvas, a huge JK in curvy block letters sit across the entire wall with blue and purple highlights.

“It’s for when you feel like the world is too big for you,” he told Hoseok. “This makes you become even bigger to battle that feeling out.”

Hoseok thought about it more than he’d like to admit. A lot of his nights were spent awake wondering if what he chose to do will ever actually matter. He was so small, so temporary compared to how fast the world moved, how time won’t wait for him to pick himself up before it would continue to move again.

He saw more of Jungkook’s imprint on his day-to-day life even on days when he didn’t see the boy. He began to understand the motivation behind these marks, these subtle things that people wouldn’t consciously ponder about but keep in the lightest parts of their minds. Jungkook was JK in the minds of the thousands of people that had seen his initials on the streets, even people who didn’t know him would know of JK. It was power in the most harmless yet satisfying way.

So Hoseok asked him one day, “Can I try?”

It was harder than he had thought, although it was almost part of Jungkook’s nature to make everything appear so easy. He tried though, grimacing at the wonky flower on the wall courtesy of him.

“I think it looks pretty cool,” He felt Jungkook nudge him. “It’s very you, hyung. Now tag it.”

“Tag it?”

“Sign it so people know who drew it.”

Hoseok looked at the grimacing flower, the paint running down the petals from when he sprayed too close to the surface. Who should he be?

His hand moved by itself and threw the spray can back into Jungkook’s bag as they sneak away into the night.

Hoya.

Being the perfectionist he was, he wasn’t satisfied with the results of his first attempt at spray painting. Hoseok practiced whenever he could; at school during art class, at home on some abandoned piece of plywood with the spray cans Jungkook told him to steal from school. He began to find himself along the way, the bright colors that he felt were him and the nostalgic design that made him feel at home but looked so eccentric.

His late-night outings with Jungkook turned into their little painting sessions, with Hoseok’s designs becoming braver and wilder. Eventually, it came to the point where he was coming out alone when Jungkook wasn’t free, eyeing any remote area that he could work on. Even the bus stop seemed tempting.

The feeling he got seeing his work everywhere, some that he felt incredibly proud of considering the fact that it was hurriedly done in the dark, felt… exhilarating. It was an excitement he had never felt before, seeing the little parts of him on the walls and signs, knowing that it was seen by an unimaginable number of people. He once saw someone photograph a particularly big piece and could barely contain himself. This was power; this was a legacy in its most unique.

He continued even after he went to college and couldn’t see Jungkook as often anymore, even after diving headfirst into his courses and new part of life that left him with barely any energy. He continued because something was growing from it, something very slow but sure.

His work was getting traction online, with photos taken by other people circulating around and others looking forward to where the next Hoya work will appear. He was someone.

It was a good thing to live two balanced lives, he thought. In the morning, he was just a college kid with a cute friend that he adored. At night, he was a known artist with a distinct style.

It didn’t feel lonely to be by himself for so long at night in a secluded area.

“Are you the famous Hoya?”

If it was about to feel lonely, then Namjoon came and fixed it just in time.

“I won’t reveal names or leak your face or anything, so don’t worry,” Namjoon told him with a smile, watching Hoseok free-handedly paint a yellow sunflower onto a wall at a quiet street. “I run an account keeping track of artists. You seem to live in the same area as Vante and Gloss.”

That was when Hoseok stopped to look at him. “Gloss?”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow at that, “Haven’t you seen him around?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone else.”

Hoseok knew Gloss though. Everyone knew Gloss. Gloss worked in black and white with stencils making mostly political stuff. Gloss’s work was in the news, even. They called his works ‘street art’, and that was the vocabulary that drew a strong frail line between him and the rest of the graffiti artists, the term that warranted him the get-out-jail free card. Everyone else was a criminal damaging public property, but Gloss was an artist. Authorities will clean off any graffiti work they see, but preserve anything done by Gloss.

Safe to say Hoseok wasn’t very fond of the guy.

But that didn’t really matter to him, it wasn’t like they’ll ever cross paths. The city was big enough for the two of them and more. Hoseok had a life much further beyond this.

Life was never just one thing. Hoseok could be a street artist and a guy studying economics. Hoseok could have a few hours at night to unwind and be a completely different person the rest of the time.

Life was never just one thing, and he understood it even more the moment Jimin introduced him to a friend.

Yoongi came into the picture so suddenly yet so easily. He was friends with Jimin’s boyfriend and studied engineering. Hoseok didn’t expect much upon meeting him, but it is often that the good things in your life would come when you least expect it.

That small feeling never came back to Hoseok ever since Yoongi came into the picture. Hoseok felt like he was enough, sometimes even that he was special because Yoongi would blush when they were together like he was something so much more than what he perceived of himself. It was a great realization, an epiphany, that it didn’t take a thousand people knowing him to feel like he was enough for the world—it took one person who had space in their world for him.

The closer Hoseok and Yoongi grew, the more the cans of spray paint began to slip into the cabinet in his room. It was partly because Yoongi would come over sometimes and they just made his apartment look like a mess, but he didn’t feel the need to do it anymore. He didn’t need to become Hoya anymore because he had Yoongi. Months into having Yoongi as his boyfriend, Hoya had been inactive for months with no one really having a clue where he could have been. He saw some people speculate that he had died.

Hoseok didn’t bother correcting any of them because, in a way, it was true—there wasn’t a need for Hoya anymore. He had done enough.

Until now.

Gloss has broken the golden rule of graffiti

[+1,423/-560]
So now that he’s a ‘street artist’ he can do what he wants?

[+1,364/-832]
He’s so damn fearless now that he knows he can just hide behind daddy’s legs whenever he can

[+1,294/-365]
What a try-hard… the fame has gotten to his head so much that he thinks he can do whatever he wants now and be praised as the most legendary artist in Korea.

[+1,283/-20]
Watch the outcry when this "piece" of his gets wrecked.'

[+1,274/-973]
You all take anything and run with it… there were already a bunch of other works overlapping Hoya’s. What reason would Gloss have to target Hoya specifically?

     [+1,354/-59]
     People like you are the reason why Hoya hasn’t done anything in months.

[+1,232/-2]
The audacity to paint over one of Hoya’s most iconic masterpieces…

[+1,120/-798]
You’re all so dumb… the wall is a mess of different works painted over one another. Gloss is clearing trying to mock the government covering up graffiti art.

     [+1,496/-5]
     ...by covering up graffiti art?

[+1,102/-50]
I see the Gloss simps are here… did the government send you?

[+1,530/-127]
People are actually trying to justify Gloss blatantly disrespecting Hoya ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Hoya paints the most intricate and vivid stuff out there free-hand and gets his works washed off, but what does a fake deep stencil hack like Gloss get? An entire display glass covering it to preserve it ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Hoya’s work is disappearing one by one and Gloss thought it would be edgy to paint over one of the few iconic Hoya works left. To all the locals who've only heard of Gloss coming here to defend them, A. you don’t even know about graffiti culture so don’t even try to argue, B. is this someone you really want to defend?

Hoseok worked big, he knew this. Sometimes he wouldn’t even mean to go very big, but it’d always exceed what he had promptly planned in mind. He used to think that if his work was really big, then the authorities wouldn’t bother to go through all the trouble of removing it, or at least they’d have a hard time doing so. It was mostly the latter, as it turned out. There were posts about a few of his works on trains and bridges in his hometown being washed off, some that he honestly didn’t mind because of how old and hurried they were. People were mad though, mad for him. It was then that he realized that these paintings had been given a new life, far more than being just the release of his teenage frustrations. It meant something to people that he didn’t even know.

It meant more to other people than Hoseok because he had Yoongi, and that felt like enough. Maybe his notorious past can just become another snapshot of his life—if that was all that happened.

But that wasn’t the case here.

Hoseok knew spaces can be limited sometimes or that hasty sprays at three in the morning while on the lookout for cops may lead to some streaks going over previous works. Those tamperings were unintentional—this was, however.

The unspoken but golden rule of graffiti: don’t turn someone else’s work into your own. 

An unusual feeling took over Hoseok at that moment. It was a piece he was actually proud of; one that took longer than most, on an empty space under a bridge that was difficult to get to. The fact that it was Gloss who did it came into play as well. Why would he target Hoseok, of all people? Was he trying to prove a point, spraying plain black and white over his unapologetically vivid piece? Does the man peeling off his work like wallpaper mean something?

Hoseok’s work had become an unwilling part of another political statement, and because it was Gloss, people outside of this world will never fully understand what he had done and persistently praise him for it. What a genius, they’d say. The greatest artist of this generation.

[+763,-12]
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ guys ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ what if Gloss is trying to rile Hoya up so the guy comes back from hiatus? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ maybe Gloss is also a Hoya fan ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ imagine if Hoya retaliates ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

It begins with the late subway ride to Yeouido Station.

After climbing over the iron fence, check every step of the way while crossing the rails to the other side and burrow past the bushes to the narrow walkway towards the underside of the bridge.

Only after checking for CCTV and any passersby as well as turning off any location tracking devices can the work really begin.

And he’s here, once again.

It’s jarring to see it himself. The remnants of his work are barely visible under the layer of white painted over it.

It’s so plain, seeing a Gloss work in person. Black and white can be interesting, but Gloss doesn’t make it such.

Here’s a lesson from a master.

Hoya strikes back

[+523,-1]
HOLY SHIT ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ HE ACTUALLY DID IT

[+512,-4]
KING HOYA !!!!!!!!! LET THEM HEAR YOU !!!!!

[+462,-32]
ㅋㅋㅋㅋ hoya really used gloss’s black and white shtick and taught him a lesson. this is what free-hand looks like, stencil fucker !!!

[+400,-29]
god this is so fun ㅋㅋㅋㅋ i wonder if gloss will strike back

[+18,-47]
… Isn’t Hoya doing the exact same thing that Gloss did? He painted over Gloss’s work.

     [+374,-12]
     how dense can you be… it was HOYA’s work that gloss covered in the first place. hoya had every right to retaliate. this is reputation we’re talking about.

[+510,-1]
does this mean hoya is back ????

That’s… an interesting question. Is he going back to doing this? What would be the point though?

this is reputation we’re talking about.

His flow of thoughts is cut short when his phone buzzes with a text that makes his heart clench. He quickly gets up to open the door after ushering his cans of spray paint back into the cupboard.

“I thought you were busy tonight,” Hoseok says instead of a greeting, biting back a smile that’s already forming.

“Hello to you too,” his boyfriend enters the apartment, pulling off his beanie that reveals a mess of black hair sticking out in tufts. “I finished early for the day.”

“That’s good,” Hoseok hums before he heads to the kitchen. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Yoongi’s voice follows him shortly after. “Hoseok-ah,”

Hoseok turns at the call of his name. Yoongi is wordless as he steps forward, enveloping Hoseok with his arms. At his confusion, Yoongi clarifies, “I haven’t seen you in a week.”

It clicks then. “Oh.” Hoseok doesn’t take long to lean in and press their lips together.

Yoongi’s kisses are always light, always so gentle and careful like he’s scared of doing the wrong thing. Hoseok indulges in it though, in the way it makes him feel so cherished.

“You seem a bit giddy today,” Yoongi murmurs, “did something fun happen?”

Hoseok smiles. “You could say that. How about you?”

The short pause before Yoongi’s answer makes it evident then how tired he is. It’s not as though he’s getting skinnier or he hasn’t been taking care of himself; the dryness in his eyes alludes to something teetering him from his balance, something that has exhausted him mentally.

Yoongi can seem to tell what Hoseok is thinking. “It’s nothing to worry about. That’s why I came to see you.”

“Are you sure?” He prods slightly, but Yoongi insists. Something is clearly bothering him, but Hoseok isn’t sure what it could be. Yoongi has this habit of brushing an inconvenience off in conversation even though it’s affecting him.

Hoseok shouldn’t get ahead of himself though. Maybe one day there will be space for Yoongi to tell Hoseok about his troubles, no matter how big or how small. Hoseok shouldn’t force it out of him. He’ll wait, and he’ll be there when Yoongi’s ready to talk.

For now, he tries to make the most out of Yoongi being here with him. “Do you wanna watch a movie, hyung?”

Being with Yoongi is so easy—time with him feels like a slow exhale; one that slows down your heartbeat and dissipates your anxiety. It’s a relaxing feeling when things are just right and everything is where it’s supposed to be. Nothing else seems to occupy Hoseok’s mind when Yoongi is around. It’s a blank canvas, and each stroke of paint is a skip of his heart or the brush of their hands.

Somewhere near the end of the movie, Hoseok feels a finger brush his cheek.

Yoongi is smiling when he turns to look, the vivid colors from the TV screen projected onto his skin and warped to follow his features. “Come here.”

Hoseok leans closer to him, ducking down to kiss his shoulder just because he can. “What’s up?”

Their noses brush and when Yoongi whispers, it’s a sound that no one else in the world will ever hear. “Kiss me.”

Hoseok slips into his lap to press their lips together, the desire for closeness slowly overflowing within him. Yoongi gives it to him; his arms wrap around Hoseok’s waist in a faint hug, anchoring him from drifting away.

Being with Yoongi is easy, and Hoseok forgets all about the graffiti and Gloss and that entire world for a moment.

Gloss’s clever rebuttal

[+2,542,-5]
I dont even like the guy but this is fucking hilarious lol

[+2,012,-58]
i enjoy his poor attempt at trying to mimic hoya’s masterful freehand style

     [+23,-9]
     That’s what happens when a stencil hack tries to do freehand ㅋㅋㅋ

[+13,-0]
Wait sorry I’m new here… how do we know this is actually Gloss’s doing and not some 3rd party?

     [+20,-0]
     RM (the site runner) usually confirms with the artists if this is their work before he posts it

“To be very fair,” Namjoon takes a sip of his cold brew, “it’s pretty funny.”

Hoseok sighs in defeat, “Yeah, I’ll give him that.”

There’s a kind of magic in painting something on the wall of a secluded, abandoned place where very few people will ever see it and imagine how someone would stumble upon it at any given point in time, maybe days or years later. Namjoon knows the city area well, including all the quiet, empty places where graffiti artists would lurk at night. His blog becomes almost a social media for artists to share their work instantly and anyone will see it, no matter how secluded the area they’ve found is.

Hoseok doesn’t like it in that aspect, but seeing people’s reactions to his work undeniably makes him feel good and motivated, like his cartoonish illustrations actually mean something to people and there’s a reason why he should keep doing it. It suddenly doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.

The cafe they’re in is relatively quiet, with a few people sitting at different tables far from them. Namjoon sets down his drink carefully before he asks, “So how are you going to retaliate?”

Hoseok perks up at that, “Me?” Namjoon nods. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“Are you sure?” Namjoon challenges him. “It’s up to you, but there’s now a graffiti out there that says ‘fucking Hoya’. And besides,” he points at a particular comment on Hoseok’s phone screen where the blog post is still open, “you have an anticipating audience.”

[+2,312,-0]
is this the start of a graffiti war between two of the biggest names in seoul? … oh this is gonna be awesome

Hoseok grits his teeth. Something minute surges through his veins, the same pumping feeling he gets when bright vivid streaks of color appear on the dull gray wall as though that small part of the world has come to life from his fingertips. His knee is bouncing under the table as he thinks, reading the comment again and again but at the same time desperately making himself hold back.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” Hoseok changes the subject completely to stop himself from thinking.

Namjoon doesn’t call him out for it and nods. “I thought you were going to retire. You were gone for months.”

Something about the word retirement sounds very permanent. Was Hoseok planning to retire after meeting Yoongi? He was inactive, that was for sure, but he genuinely didn’t feel a yearn to do it at all. It’s almost scary to think how easily he was going to let it all go.

Hoseok takes a sip of his drink. “How’s life?”

“My life?” Namjoon points at himself, genuinely surprised that anyone actually cares. “I don’t know if you’re actually curious or if you’re just trying to make small talk, but it’s fine. I went on a date with my crush.”

Hoseok whistles lowly. Namjoon has always been the one who asks questions, sitting on the sidewalk while Hoseok is painting, or making himself useful by holding up his phone’s flashlight so Hoseok could see clearer. Sometimes he even helps Hoseok pack up all the spray cans when he’s finished. Hoseok doesn’t know a whole lot about Namjoon, save for the fact that he’s a massive graffiti art enthusiast who runs the blog and studies some complicated major in university. “A crush?”

Namjoon’s smile is bashful as he nods. “Stupidly handsome guy who’s way too good for me. His dad is some high-profile person that works for the government and he knows a fair bit about graffiti art for a local.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “Sounds like you’ve put up one hell of a challenge for yourself. Good luck, RM .”

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow at that before he grins, “You too, fucking Hoya .”

“I’m not gonna retaliate.”

“You should. It’d be legendary. Gloss is up for it.”

Hoseok pauses at that, the name pricking at his ears. “You know Gloss? Wait,” he curses under his breath. “Of course you do. You know everyone. Do you know JK?”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “The one from Busan? I’ve heard of them. Great stuff.”

Fantastic stuff, Hoseok wants to say. “We go way back. He’s coming to Seoul next month if you’re interested.”

“Of course,” Namjoon stares at the search results on his phone, expectedly fascinated. “Hook me up when it’s time.”

Hoseok’s phone buzzes on the table.

     yoon (￣ω￣)
     hey
     it’s hyung
     are you free tomorrow?

     seokseok
     i know its you lol
     what's up?

     yoon (￣ω￣)
     lunch
     come meet my friends at lunch
     they think i’m making you up

     seokseok
     well as far as i know i am very real
     wouldn’t mind being presented as evidence to court at all

     yoon (￣ω￣)
     good
     see you tomorrow

“Think about it,” Namjoon tells Hoseok as they’re parting ways. “You’re a great artist. A lot of people would be ecstatic to know that you’re really back in the game.”

So Hoseok thinks about it.

GRAFFITI WAR: Hoya’s rendition

[+1,352,-2]
Gosh it’s so nice to see him back in action! I love his little mascot so much!

[+1,203,-10]
oh it’s going downnnn he’s putting up a fight

[+1,129,-5]
Can we just talk about how on-brand this is of hoya? This can definitely pass off as completely original work!

     [+53,-1]
     are you saying this is unoriginal? there’s barely any of the stuff gloss did left

          [+3,-19]
          Well his ‘FUC’ is still there

               [+93,-6]
               here comes the harvard graduate...

[+856,-1]
I FUCKING LOVE HOYA TOO !!!!

[+613,-0]
Does this mean he’s really back??? This is great!

“Ah, so you’re Jiminie’s Hoseok hyung!”

Hoseok hasn’t been to this restaurant before. According to Yoongi, it’s him and his friend’s go-to place. It’s nice; would be nicer if Hoseok isn’t trying to hide his yawn every few minutes, though. He hadn’t planned to work as big as he did, but he just couldn’t seem to stop. Yoongi’s friends are Taehyung and Seokjin who he shares a few classes with.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Hoseok tells Jimin’s boyfriend with a smile. He looks like an artsy type, someone who’d definitely be into impressionism or post-impressionism and maybe pop art. “Not from Yoongi hyung though. Mostly Jimin.”

“Sounds about right,” Seokjin hums, resting a chin on his hand. “Yoongi acts like he hates us.”

“I don’t hate you,” Yoongi grumbles.

“I know,” Seokjin assures him with a grin, “just saying that you act like it.”

Once their food arrives, the banter slowly dies down to a quiet as they eat. Hoseok feels a hand on his thigh before Yoongi murmurs. “Jin hyung’s dad is a pretty big name. He’s close to the mayor.”

Hoseok hums. “So does he have crazy control over things?”

“I do not,” Seokjin interjects, not bothering to deny that he’s been listening the entire time.

“I mean,” Taehyung says as he chews, “you have some influence.”

“Only on things that I feel are too conservative in times like these.” Seokjin rebuts. “Things like vandalism and stuff.”

Hoseok’s eyes go wide then. “Vandalism?”

“Jin hyung has control over the graffiti squad here,” Taehyung explains. “Mostly just stopping them from erasing things that actually look nice.”

“Oh,” Hoseok breathes, his gut churning weirdly. Things that actually look nice. “I see.” His grip on his glass of water is shaky when he tries to take a sip. Yoongi looks at him like there’s something wrong, but Hoseok doesn’t say anything. “Do you like street art, hyung?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I have a general interest in it. I just don’t think it’s right to destroy people’s work, even though it’s done on public property. Taehyung knows a thing or two about street art, though.”

Taehyung shrugs too. “General interest.”

Vante’s new piece

[+503,-0]
His works are so cool and classy

[+201,-10]
him and gloss are the few people who don’t get their stuff erased by the government but honestly idk why but… i just like vante better than gloss

     [+5,-2]
     I personally like gloss more but yeah they both definitely have an advantage

          [+34,-1]
          it’s just their style i guess? like their works are tame enough that it could pass off as “street art”

               [+50,-9]
               The public definitely sees vante and gloss as “street artists” and hoya and the rest as “graffiti artists”. Not saying that it’s a good thing though. I feel bad for hoya.

                    [+42,-1]
                    hoya’s definitely the underdog type

[+932,-0]
RM: Vante and Hoya will be collaborating on a big piece together, coming out in a few weeks’ time.

     [+5,-0]
     WAIT SERIOUSLY ????

     [+62,-0]
     THEIR STYLES ARE SO DIFFERENT ,,,, I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HOW IT TURNS OUT!!

     [+83,-0]
     woah i’ve only ever seen hoya collab with JK… this is gonna be awesome !!!

Hoseok had accepted Namjoon’s suggestion with a touch of hesitation. Art connects him with the rest of the world, with the people on the streets who’d turn their heads from the ground and their phones to look at his work on the walls and think about it as they pass. To a lot of other artists in Seoul, he was that person looking up from his phone to look at the artwork at the bus stop and the hidden alleys.

It’s always been just him though when he works. Occasionally, he’d have Namjoon around to help with packing up and other miscellaneous things, but he’d never really worked alongside anyone but Jungkook.

And it’s different because Jungkook is the kid he grew up with, who huddled his spare coins with Hoseok’s to get pricey desserts after school. Hoseok has known Jungkook long before he’s known Jungkook’s work. He doesn’t have a clue who Vante is except for the fact that the guy is probably into contemporary art based on his works.

Nevertheless, Hoseok accepted Namjoon’s suggestion to link up and work together, and now standing in front of him is a devastatingly familiar face.

Taehyung is the first one to pull down his mask. “So maybe the general interest part was downplaying it a bit.”

“Please,” Hoseok grabs his shoulders, feeling just the slightest bit guilty at Taehyung’s startled shriek, “don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Oh,” Taehyung chuckles, lightening up a little, “that’s what you’re worried about? Of course I won’t out you, hyung. As long as you keep me a secret too, that is.” He folds his arms with a pout then. “Kinda mad at Yoongi hyung for not telling me though.”

“Ah,” panic shoots up Hoseok’s spine once more. “Yoongi hyung doesn’t know…”

Why it’s a secret though, he isn’t sure. It just feels right to hide this side of him from the world. The Jung Hoseok that Yoongi knows is loud and happy and cheerful. He’s open and kind and a neat freak who’s scared of bugs and hates nasty smells.

The street they’re in is humid and reeks of sewer stink, with scurrying sounds of rats and pigeons either from a distance or closely passing by. Moths and flies swarm around the blinking street lamps surrounding them and Hoya pays none of it any mind. Because Hoya is not like Jung Hoseok—Hoya is quiet as he lets his works speak but still prideful and petty.

Yoongi chose him for Jung Hoseok, not Hoya.

The night starts off silent, but as art comes into focus and they discuss their ideas, things begin to mold together beautifully. Maybe painting with someone is not so bad.

“Do people know you’re Vante?” Hoseok asks him as he blocks out his pastel colors.

“Only my close friends,” Vante murmurs, “and Jimin, obviously. We met when I was running from the cops.”

Hoseok stops spraying for a second. “Seriously?”

Taehyung smirks, “I was only starting off then. I wasn’t really being too careful and I heard the sirens so I just took everything and ran. Then I realized it’d be super easy to spot me out of a crowd since I had a huge duffel bag full of paint with me,” he chuckles, “but then I ran into Jimin and his friends who were coming from Kendo practice with huge bags so I blended right in. He really saved me there.”

“How romantic,” Hoseok hums.

It’s fascinating to see Taehyung work, the way he makes a mess of the spray paint before fine-tuning everything into shapes with a paintbrush and latex paint. Taehyung also seems fascinated by Hoseok’s swift lines and comments on how ‘old-school’ he is.

The night grows cold as they work in the dark, but they eventually agree to stop and leave it as is. It looks good; different from most of what Hoseok has done but unique. Taehyung seems satisfied as well.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he assures Hoseok with a smile. “We all have our reasons.”

Relief washes over Hoseok at that moment. “Thank you.”

Taehyung leaves first, disappearing into the night with his mask back on. Hoseok lingers at where he stands, looking at the work they’ve done but not really taking it in.

We all have our reasons.

Hoseok’s is a bit pathetic though.

Hoya x Vante

Is Hoseok lying? Has he been lying for a long, long time?

It doesn’t feel like lying; Hoya isn’t a character he plays or a front he puts up. Hoya is still him, but a quiet yet braver side of him. Hoya is the person he becomes when too many things clog up his mind and he tries to create a beautiful outlet for it.

So why is the guilt he feels as bad as the ones he’d get when he lies? Why does his stomach churn uncomfortably when Yoongi is at the door and he has to hide his duffel bag full of spray cans in his closet? Is he lying to Yoongi?

People don’t show everyone every single side of them though. You’d behave one way at a formal company meeting and another way at a gathering of friends at home. It’s simple as that, right? Hoseok is Hoya at night on some mucky street painting a wall, and Hoseok is Yoongi’s boyfriend when he’s at home in the afternoon.

“You’re drifting again,” Yoongi’s voice pulls him out of his head. His hand is still gently carding through Hoseok’s hair. “I thought it was my thing to drift off. Where are you going this time?”

“Nowhere in particular,” Hoseok murmurs. “Where do you usually go?”

Maybe it’s a habit he’s inherited from Yoongi, asking himself one question before his brain spirals into the depths of confusion as it comes up with a hundred explanations before finding one that fits his narrative the most. To most people though, he’s just staring blankly at the wall.

“It depends on what kicked it off,” Yoongi tells him. “Sometimes I think about interior design.”

Oh, how Hoseok wishes he can just overthink interior design, out of everything. Yoongi is smiling when Hoseok laughs, when he muffles it into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. “What about interior design occupies you so much?”

“Well,” Yoongi twirls a strand of Hoseok’s hair around his finger, “I think about if white walls would be better than light yellow walls, or gray walls… I feel like gray walls would be too gloomy for you. But then maybe a light brown wooden floor would brighten it up a bit.”

Hoseok looks up at him, “What do you mean it’d be too gloomy for me?” He laughs, “who’s apartment are you designing in your head?”

Yoongi bites his lip, swipes his tongue over it before he speaks, “Ours. Hypothetically.”

That’s when Hoseok sits up on the couch to look down at Yoongi, his heart already dramatically picking up its pace. Yoongi is looking down at where Hoseok was on his chest. “Hyung, look at me.” Yoongi looks at him. “You want to move in with me?”

“It’s hypothetical,” Yoongi argues, albeit a bit weakly. “Doesn’t mean you have to do anything. I’m just thinking.” He reaches for Hoseok, “Come back here.”

Hoseok is never one to disappoint, so he slumps back down into Yoongi, laughing at the wheeze he lets out.

“Sorry if it’s awkward,” Yoongi whispers belatedly.

Hoseok shakes his head, rubbing his nose at Yoongi’s clavicle, reveling in the warmth before he murmurs, “Where do you want the window in the bedroom to be?”

There’s a breath of a pause before Yoongi answers, hand coming back up to play with Hoseok’s hair, “On one side of the bed maybe. That’d be your side, I’m assuming.”

“Why would it be my side?”

“So the sun would bathe you in the morning.”

Hoseok smiles against his chest. “Yeah? What else do you want in the room?”

“Other than you? Let’s see…” Yoongi hums. “A bedside lamp, probably. For reading. With adjustable brightness, so you can sleep when a chapter of my book ends on a cliffhanger.”

Since when has Hoseok ever been on someone’s mind like this? Why would someone love him this much?

—How could Hoseok lie to him?

“Hyung,” he whispers, shifting up a little to look at Yoongi. Yoongi looks at him with a hum, the hand stroking his hair comes down to caress the side of his face. His eyes are searching Hoseok’s for something, though he isn’t sure what. He’s beautiful, and Hoseok probably doesn’t deserve him at all.

Yoongi closes his eyes when Hoseok leans in to kiss him, their lips brushing gently at first before slotting together, slow and indulgent like life has never been difficult. Hoseok cups Yoongi’s cheeks— Is it okay if you don’t know everything about me? —He hears Yoongi hum and smiles into the kiss— Will you still see me the same if you do? —Yoongi sucks at his bottom lip— Is all of me what you wanted?

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi whispers against his lips before he pulls away just the slightest bit. He looks at Hoseok, “What were you going to say?”

Something stupid, Hoseok plans to say but then changes his mind. Yoongi will only try to prod more out of him if he says that.

“Thank you for loving me,” he says instead. As embarrassing as it is, Yoongi smiles wide and laughs at Hoseok’s blush, so it’s not all bad.

Yoongi is playing with his hands when he notices, “You have paint on your nails.”

Panic shoots up Hoseok’s spine, “Oh.” He looks at his hands to see small remnants of bright blue and yellow in the corners of his nails. “I do.”

At Hoseok’s silence, Yoongi follows up with a question, “Why do you have paint on your nails?”

“Well, I…” Hoseok scratches at the paint, willing it to come off even though Yoongi has already seen it. “I paint sometimes. Art stuff.”

“You do?” Yoongi sounds intrigued all of a sudden. “...Can I see?”

Adrenaline courses through Hoseok’s veins, although neither fight nor flight would really work to aid the situation he’s put himself in by not washing his hands thoroughly after painting.

“It’s not that good,” he tries.

“Doesn’t matter,” Yoongi rebuts easily. “I had no idea you painted. I just wanna see.”

And how can Hoseok even worm his way out of that? “Sure.”

Yoongi doesn’t follow him into his room, and Hoseok gets a few minutes to decide what he’s going to do.

Oh, his sketchbook. He can start with that.

Rummaging through a cabinet of things he doesn’t know what to do with but also doesn’t want to throw away, his hand closes on an old sketchbook from when he just graduated high school, still lost and finding his own pace. If he shows Yoongi a recent work then chances are that he might recognize them from the graffiti on the streets. This old work is still him, but tamer.

Yoongi looks surprised, flipping through the pages. “You draw a lot.”

“It’s a hobby,” Hoseok murmurs. Maybe he should’ve gone through it more before handing it to Yoongi; some of the drawings are very clearly plans for graffiti pieces.

“It’s really good,” He comments, pausing to look at a piece that says ‘hope’ in big bubbly letters. “This is a really nice throw-up.”

That’s when Hoseok freezes.

“Thanks,” is what he manages to whisper out but his head is already spinning. Yoongi just used a graffiti slang.

Calm down. Calm down. His mind yells with an energy that is anything but calm. Yoongi knows Taehyung is an artist. He’s probably heard of it from him.

But Hoseok doesn’t feel calm at all.

Busan-based JK is in Seoul

[+631/-0]
wow !! i’ve never heard of him before but busan must be super lucky to have his pieces around !!!

[+601/-0]
This is the guy Hoya used to paint with, right? I hope they make something together this time too!

[+401/-2]
Haven’t people seen some of hoya’s pieces around Busan as well? Do you think they’re close friends?

     [+30/-5]
     aw that’d be so cute :(

“Hyung!” Jungkook says through his chuckles, struggling to fight Hoseok off. “I get it! I miss you too! You can stop now.” Hoseok kisses the top of his head. “ Stop. ”

Namjoon is smiling at them from where he’s squatting on the ground. “It’s cute that you two started off together.”

“Well Kook started first,” Hoseok explains as he lets the boy go, “but then I got dragged into it too.”

“I really didn’t expect you to be so young,” Namjoon murmurs. “You’re still in high school.”

“I’m graduating in a few weeks,” Jungkook defends himself.

After a quick glance at their empty surroundings, Hoseok unzips his bag of materials. “Are you staying the whole night, Joon-ah?”

“I’d love to, but nah,” Namjoon stretches his arms out with a groan, struggling to keep his balance. “My boyfriend wants to meet later.”

“Now hold on. ” Hoseok half-yells before covering his mouth. They’re not supposed to be so loud. “Boyfriend? The crush you got a date with?” Namjoon nods with a grin. “Seriously? Hasn’t it only been a week since you told me that?” He chuckles. “Damn. You got game.”

Namjoon snorts at that. “I wish. I don’t even know how I managed it.”

Hoseok whistles lowly as he picks up a spray can and gives it a shake. “How did you two meet?”

“University. I saw him on campus.”

Jungkook is drawing out sharp white lines across the blank wall. “No one at school is cool.”

“That’s usually what happens when I leave,” Hoseok hums, testing out the spray on the floor before he goes in.

“No one at school has ever been cool,” Jungkook says with a grin, and Namjoon laughs.

Later into the night, they’re adding finishing touches to the work. Namjoon has already left with Jungkook’s number on his phone and a promise of a next meeting.

“Are you moving to Seoul when you graduate?” Hoseok asks Jungkook, frowning at the piece until he notices something off and fixes it.

Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe. My mom is hesitant about letting me go because she doesn’t think I can live by myself. She even wanted me to ask if I could stay with you.”

Hoseok smiles at that, “Hey, I won’t mind.” Then he remembers Yoongi, all of a sudden. Yoongi, and his little internal monologue about their shared apartment. What will he do then? Surely, he won’t be able to hide this anymore when the time comes, and Yoongi will either tolerate it or regret the decision to move in because Hoseok isn’t who he thought he was.

The thought of losing Yoongi seems terrifying.

Jungkook’s voice snaps him out of his building turmoil, “How are things with Gloss?”

Hoseok snorts, internally grimacing at the name, “You heard about that?”

“It’s huge, ” Jungkook trills. “People are even talking about it here. Gloss is kind of a big name, after all.” A mini panic washes over him. “You’re big too hyung, in the scene.”

“He is really famous,” Hoseok admits. “People who have their property with his pieces on it can auction it off for millions.” He huffs out a laugh, then. “Don’t know why he’s decided to pick on me, of all people.”

“Well, there’s that rumor that went around for a bit.”

He turns to look at Jungkook, “... What rumor?”

Jungkook looks at him like he can’t believe Hoseok just asked him that. “The one where you punched Gloss?”

The sound of a tin spray can clattering onto the pavement sends a flock of pigeons flying away into the night sky.

There was a gathering of graffiti artists in Seoul at a bar where people were invited through word-of-mouth. Gloss had been there as well as Hoya, apparently, meeting each other for the first time. No one knew if it was Gloss trying to be cocky or if he genuinely lived under a rock, but he had said to Hoya outright that he had never heard of the guy before.

With his pride hurt and enraged, Hoya punched Gloss in the face, saying something along the lines of “Now you have,” before Gloss stormed out of the bar with a bruised cheek.

“Yeah, no,” Hoya scoffs at the ridiculous story, “I’ve never met Gloss in person, let alone punch him. Have you seen my wrist?” He holds up his hand, pulling one sleeve of his sweater down to show his dainty wrist, “Do you think I can ever punch someone with a wrist like this?”

Jungkook considers it for a moment before he shakes his head. “It sounds ridiculous, but a lot of people are saying that this is why Gloss attacked your work.” He pauses before a scandalous expression takes over his face. “What if it did happen?”

“What?” Hoseok’s eyes widen at that, referring back to his thin wrist that is still on display, “like I said-”

“No, no,” the boy intercepts, “I’m saying that what if Gloss did get punched by Hoya? What if someone was claiming to be you?”

“Oh,” Hoseok pulls his sleeve back down.

“It’d make sense, wouldn’t it?” Jungkook continues, “It wouldn’t be hard to impersonate you at all since you’ve never shown your face anywhere, so pretty much anyone can claim to be you.”

“Oh,” Hoseok repeats with more feeling. “So someone who was claiming to be me punched Gloss, and so Gloss decided to sabotage my work as payback?”

Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds possible, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Hoseok hums. A hand comes up to stroke his chin as he frowns. “This whole thing could’ve started from a misunderstanding.” He groans then. “How do I even fix this? What if he keeps covering up my stuff?”

“Doesn’t Namjoon hyung know him?” Jungkook asks him. “He has everyone’s number, right? He could be the middle-man or you can meet Gloss and talk it out or something.”

Hoseok scrunches his nose at the idea of meeting Gloss. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe he never actually got punched in the first place and it’s just a rumor.”

“I mean,” Jungkook shrugs, “it can’t be too bad, right? I’m sure neither of you actually hate each other’s guts.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok breathes. “Probably not.”

JK and Hoya’s new piece

On a quiet afternoon, Hoseok’s phone rings suddenly.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon sounds panicked.

“Did something happen?” Hoseok asks him.

“Something bad.”

GRAFFITI WAR: Hoya’s piece has been removed by Seoul’s graffiti squad

[+301/-1]
WHAT THE FUCK

[1,325/-491]
FUCK GLOSS

     [+90/-0]
     What???

          [+521/-242]
          I BET YOU MY LEFT NUT ITS GLOSS’S DOING

               [+431/-15]
               it says right there that the government’s squad did it. can you stop trying to find an excuse to shit on the guy and fuel this drama :/

 [+642/-92]
call me crazy or whatever but look… the city loves gloss. gloss’s pieces are used to promote tourism in seoul so the government loves him. hoya here is gloss’s enemy who he has bad blood with, and now his huge piece got removed by the government. isn’t it pretty obvious who’s behind all this?

     [+100/-20]
     You have a point… if there’s one guy who can pretty much cry to daddy about some kid he doesn’t get along with and have him do something, it’s Gloss.

          [+264/-12]
          youre all fucking crazy

[+1,433/-5]
why is everyone trying to bring gloss into this and make it about him… we just lost another amazing hoya piece and i’m so upset… i can’t imagine how crushed hoya must be feeling right now

The location is perfect, really. It’s difficult to get to, but that’s what made it untouchable—at least for a while. Passersby can easily walk along the road and view the piece from across the river.

Hoseok stares at the now-empty wall, a river separating him and the ashes of his passion.

Namjoon is staring at it too, like he can somehow see the bright pastel writing yelling at him.

“I was proud of that one,” Hoseok feels himself murmur.

“I was proud of you,” Namjoon laments. A hand comes up to rub at his shoulder, and while Hoseok appreciates the gesture, it doesn’t do much to aid this sickly feeling.

Maybe this was part of the reason why he was going to quit. Every loss of a piece feels like a loss of himself, a loss of a great part of him that leaves a gap that would take years to fill itself back in. He didn’t mind it very much initially when his older pieces got removed because of the flaws he could easily pick out, but when they’re his big precise pieces, it very easily gets to him.

“It’s still there,” he hears Namjoon say. “Still bright and bold. Right there,” Namjoon points at the blank wall, “ I fucking love Hoya. I can see it clear as day. People will remember it, and it’ll be like it never disappeared in the first place.”

Hoseok looks at the place he was painting away at months ago. He can imagine it then—the original piece, bright red with the yellow throw-up, his character crying and watering a flower with its tears. He sees the many renditions it went through since then, his memories of it projecting onto the wall.

Hoseok bumps his shoulder with Namjoon. “How’s the boyfriend?”

Namjoon seems caught off-guard, but smiles. “Pretty good. He knows about my blog, but maybe I’ll make it more obvious that he could help with issues like this by… I dunno, getting a word in with his father or something.”

“Oh, right...” that sounds oddly familiar. Why does it sound familiar? Hoseok can’t quite put his finger on it, so he ignores it.

The sky is gray, and Namjoon frowns up at it. “Might rain soon. Do you have somewhere to be?”

Yoongi comes to mind immediately at that moment, and a longing feeling takes over Hoseok. Yoongi would make it all better. Yoongi can rub Hoseok’s shoulder and hold him the way Namjoon is holding him now, and he’ll feel better.

“Yeah,” Hoseok breathes. “I do.”

Yoongi looks surprised when he sees Hoseok at the door. “Hey.”

“Are you free right now?” Hoseok says in lieu of a greeting. Yoongi lets him into the apartment with a nod. He squawks when Hoseok suddenly pulls him into a tight hug. It crashes into him like a wave, this inhibition that he’s been putting up, the feelings he repressed deep into his throat are overflowing and he can’t stop them.

“Seok- hey,” Yoongi wraps his arms around him. “What’s wrong?”

Should he tell Yoongi? But then he’d have to tell Yoongi everything and why he’s been keeping it a secret in the first place. That’s too much talking and Hoseok really doesn’t want to talk right now.

“Please, can I-” Hoseok buries his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck and murmurs, “can you lie down with me?”

He feels a kiss on his temple, “Of course.”

Yoongi doesn’t ask any questions as they lie down in bed, doesn’t ask when Hoseok clings to him and pushes his face into his neck.

The only indication of rain is the patter against the window and the ambiance from outside. It’s warm between them; warm around them and inside them. Hoseok doesn’t cry, miraculously like some dumb stroke of luck. If he starts crying then Yoongi will definitely break his silence.

Being here feels like a break from the world—a pocket in the universe he can crawl into and stay there until he feels okay again.

What did he do to deserve this?

“You give me so much,” Hoseok feels himself murmur, so quietly that if Yoongi hadn’t reacted to it with a hum, he would’ve let it go. “You give me so much,” he repeats, “do I give you enough?”

He listens to the sound of Yoongi’s breathing and feels the vibration of his words on his skin. “Enough of what?”

Hoseok takes a deep inhale and closes his eyes. Falling asleep sounds like a great idea at first, but then he wouldn’t be able to listen to Yoongi talk. So he answers, “Enough of me.”

The words are whispered into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, as warmth on Yoongi’s skin. He feels it when Yoongi hums, the vibrations under his touch.

“I’m gonna say something cheesy,” Yoongi mumbles, “and you can laugh if you want, but I’m being honest, okay?” Hoseok nods against him. “I used to think relationships are like giving and taking. You give someone this much of you and they give an equal amount of themself back to you.” He pauses for a moment, as though expecting something, “Not laughing?”

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head. “Keep talking.”

“Well, that’s what I used to think,” Yoongi continues, “then I realized that if things really click together, this give-and-take thing will soon reach an equilibrium of some sort, and you’ll always feel whole.” He breathes, “It’s like everything is so balanced that you become one.”

Hoseok blinks his eyes open for a second, eyeing how close Yoongi is to him, taking in how peacefully dim the room is, accompanied by the rain. “You think we’re like that?”

“In one way or another,” Yoongi muses, “I am you, and you are me.”

Hoseok closes his eyes again. “We’re pretty different, though.”

“Then we’re a paradox,” Yoongi whispers.

When Hoseok tilts his chin up for a kiss, Yoongi complies, and he kisses Hoseok like there’s nothing else he’d rather do.

They fall asleep to the sound of the rain, and Hoseok forgets about the day’s mess for the rest of the evening.

The morning after is fun. Hoseok doesn’t come over to Yoongi’s place often; it’s always colder, and the hot water here is a lottery. It’s huge, though an entire room is closed off due to a black mold infestation that has yet to be solved, it seems.

“Is that room ever gonna be fixed?” Hoseok asks through a mug of tea. “It was like that when I came over a month ago.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Maintenance here is kinda shit. Do you have school today?”

Hoseok hums. “In the afternoon. Then I’m free again tonight.”

“I’m kinda occupied tonight,” Yoongi murmurs, picking at his nails.

“Of course you are,” Hoseok finishes his tea and gets up, slapping Yoongi’s butt on his way to throw the used teabag in the trash.

For a fraction of a second, his eye catches something.

The teabag hits the contents with a wet plop and Hoseok moves robotically to clean his mug in the sink, definitely not thinking about what he thought he saw.

Hoseok leaves Yoongi’s apartment, definitely not thinking about how what he saw in the trash looked suspiciously like stencils.

Gloss’s daredevil piece

[+431,-0]
I get like this every time someone does this but how the hell did he do that?? That’s a heaven spot right there!

     [+1,-0]
     heyy sorry i’m kinda new to the whole scene… whats a heaven spot?

          [+200,-0]
          Basically graffiti that’s done on dangerously high places like rooftops or bridges or in this case, a highway, which makes it harder for authorities to remove it. They call it heaven spot because you’re so high you can almost see heaven or it’s so dangerous that you can see heaven from how close you are to dying.

“You know Gloss’s real identity, right?”

Namjoon looks caught off-guard by the question, or like he’d never expect Hoseok to ask him that. Maybe it’s a mix of both. “Yes…? I’m not gonna give away his identity though. That’s where the line is drawn.”

“Just tell me he’s not Min Yoongi,” Hoseok rushes his words out in one breath. “That’s all I ask. I don’t care who he really is, just tell me that’s not his name.”

There’s a difficult expression on Namjoon’s face. “One of the few conditions Gloss gave me when I asked for his contact information was that I can’t tell anyone anything personal about him. I’m sorry.”

“Namjoon-ah,” Hoseok tries not to sound too desperate, but the fact that his paranoia has yet to be brushed off as him being ridiculous is not helping his case at all. “You know me. I’m not gonna go around spreading it, I just want some peace of mind. It’s a yes or no question, and you not saying no immediately is freaking me the fuck out.”

“Hoseok,” Namjoon sighs, and Hoseok can tell he’s making that extra effort to be collected. “He’s a high-profile guy. There are people out there trying to find any crack they can slip through to get to him so I’ve had to be the most tight-lipped person on the internet to keep his identity safe, the same way I keep you and everyone else’s identities safe. I know you’re not asking for a lot, but a yes or no can still lead to people finding out who he is. I’m really sorry.”

At least he looks guilty about it, Hoseok supposes. That doesn’t help calm him down at all, though.

“Seok-ah,” Yoongi’s voice buzzes from his phone. “What’s up?”

“Do you have anything going on tonight?” Hoseok asks him.

“Yeah, later in the evening but I can always push it back. Do you need something?”

“No, no,” Hoseok assures him. “I was just asking.”

Hoya heads out earlier than usual that day.

The subway ride to Yeouido station, the fence jumping, burrowing past the bushes to the narrow walkway towards the underside of the bridge.

It’s still jarring how empty it is. Hoya reaches over to touch the wall’s surface, running the flat of his palm down the cool concrete. Hoseok would never do this, he finds himself thinking. Hoseok would never touch a dirty public wall so easily.

With a sigh, he gets to work.

He doesn’t bother going big anymore, his piece this time is simple, if not a bit sad. What’s the point if it’s going to get removed anyway?

It doesn’t take long at all until he’s finished, taking a few steps back to look at it.

The bright colors don’t seem to make up for how sad it seems.

He hears it then—the rustling sounds of careful footsteps.

Hoya whips his head around to the trail he took to come here. This part of the bridge is difficult to access, but that hasn’t stopped the handful of artists who have come and marked their place here.

“Don’t worry,” he speaks up, “I’m leaving anyway.”

A silhouette appears from the shadows, slowly approaching. Their face is covered with a mask and a black hood, carrying a large duffel bag that drops as soon as they’re close enough to see Hoya.

And well—Hoseok sees him too.

“Is this why you were busy?” Hoseok whispers.

Yoongi looks surprised, even as he pulls his hood back to look at Hoseok properly. “You’re…” his eyes shift to the new piece on the wall.

Hoseok nods.

“... How did you know?”

Hoseok shrugs. “I just paid attention, I guess. I didn’t know for sure, but well,” he chuckles, but it sounds more broken than he expected. Why does he sound so resigned? “now I know.”

It’s quiet and so painfully awkward. When have things ever been awkward with Yoongi? When has it ever been difficult to talk to him?

Hoseok is the first to move, crouching down to stuff all his spray cans into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he takes his leave. “I’m done here now, so go crazy.”

“Wait, Hoseok,” Gloss calls him, his eyes still wildly confused, “shouldn’t we talk about this?”

Hoseok smiles but it’s broken.

“What is there to say? We both lied.”

Yoongi doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“It’s okay, hyung,” Hoseok reaches out to fix Yoongi’s mask, tucking a strand of hair behind Yoongi’s ear. “Let’s talk later.”

And that’s how they part.

Hoya’s grieving

[+631,-1]
ahhh….. i was on gloss’s side but i really do feel bad for him;; getting his entire work erased like that must suck

[+539,-6]
All his hard work…

[+291,-53]
if gloss dares to do something with this i’ll actually be pissed

     [+124,-12]
     Get over it already… the graffiti war is over.

They don’t talk about it the next time they see each other. They talked about talking about it, and there’s a million questions swimming in Hoseok’s head, but they still don’t talk about it.

Somehow, the both of them are grasping onto the idea that if it’s never mentioned again, it never happened in the first place. And if it never happened in the first place, then there’s nothing wrong.

There is something wrong though.

It’s awkward as they eat silently, watching a show on Yoongi’s laptop. They’re barely ever quiet when they’re watching a show, always feeling the need to comment on something that’s happening, but it’s quiet. Hoseok doesn’t even know what’s going on in the show right now; he hasn’t been focusing at all.

Hoseok is quiet as he gets up to put the dishes away, as is Yoongi who continues to watch the show at the coffee table.

Why are they acting so careful, so wounded? This is supposed to be a safe space, or whatever metaphor Hoseok used the last time he was cuddling Yoongi. Who would ever expect them to be so wary of touching each other?

If they want things to be normal, then they have to be normal.

Hoseok returns to find Yoongi on the couch, eyes not meeting his as he approaches, not until Hoseok’s knees are on either side of him and he lies down like he usually would.

There’s a jolt that he can feel from Yoongi, like he hadn’t expected Hoseok to suddenly be so close when it used to be so normal.

Hoseok squeezes him closer, not knowing what else he can do to fix things, what else there is to do to smooth things out. Yoongi holds him back, eventually, with his arms around Hoseok, though with a jarring stiffness to it.

Hoseok thinks about Gloss and the anger he had felt seeing what became of his work. He thinks about the kind of person Gloss had to be, some edgy try-hard who doesn’t know basic respect and thinks they’re better than everyone else because they’re deemed an artist rather than a criminal—Hoseok thinks about how the person holding him right now is Gloss, how he’s lying his head on the chest of someone who tried to make a fool out of him. Maybe a similar thought is running through Yoongi’s head, because he breaks first.

“We need to talk.”

Hoseok sighs at that. He knew it had to happen eventually, yet he dreaded it. This cuddle isn’t even comforting anyway. He slowly pulls away, rubbing his eyes as he sits up properly. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

Yoongi shifts to do the same, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as he thinks. There’s really no way to go around this without breaking into an argument. There’s a churning in Hoseok’s stomach that makes him sick, his skin crawling as though anticipating that something will happen, although Hoseok doesn’t even know what.

“Let’s… take turns explaining ourselves,” Yoongi manages out, “okay?”

What’s the point? Hoseok finds himself thinking. Everything is already out in the open. He nods anyway.

“So…” Yoongi trails off, and Hoseok just watches him. “I started off a while before I met you, and it was around when things were starting to get crazy and people were out trying to crack down on my identity, so I was a bit paranoid about who I let in. Then it got too much, I think,” he murmurs. “Way too much. I didn’t want you involved in all the mess. Thinking back, maybe I should’ve told you instead of lying. It must’ve felt like I left you out on something huge in my life that you should know.” His shoulders sag, suddenly. “Then about… the thing.”

The thing, he calls it, like he’s too afraid to even recall what had happened.

“I just needed a wall that was covered in graffiti,” Yoongi tells him. “I wasn’t targeting Hoya specifically.”

“Me,” Hoseok speaks up. He’s not sure why he’s suddenly so defensive. “You werenʼt targeting me.”

Yoongi has a difficult look on his face before he nods. “I wasn’t targeting you.” He changes the topic then, “What about you? Why was this a secret?”

Hoseok bites his lip. “It’s just… it’s always been something that I keep to myself. Even Jimin doesn’t know. Taehyung found out by accident. It’s not something I wanted to show people. It was just for me.”

There’s a look on Yoongi’s face that he can’t quite decode and that worries him. He can usually tell what Yoongi’s thinking just from the curves of his eyes.

“I thought that if anyone, you’d tell me,” Yoongi murmurs. “But I understand.”

I am you, and you are me, he said then, in the softest voice like they’re words he’s never said to anyone out loud.

“I thought you’d tell me too,” Hoseok feels himself say. What else is Yoongi hiding? What else has he been lying about? Hoseok is paranoid about this because he’s also been hiding things.

But the dam is broken now. Everything is about to come out. Maybe that’s what his body had sensed and anticipated.

“Are you sure it’s not a personal attack?” Hoseok prods on, suddenly animated. “Are you sure it’s not because some guy who claimed to be Hoya punched you at a bar after you taunted him?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen in disbelief. “What? Where did you even hear about that?” He scoffs, and he rarely ever scoffs. “I’ve never gone to any gatherings, and I sure as hell won’t taunt a guy to punch me.” A wave of disappointment flashes in his eyes. “You know me better than that.”

“Do I know you at all?”

It feels like another breaking point, the final release of his frustrations projected into a live thing before them. This is Hoya; this is the very ugly thing Hoseok had never wanted Yoongi to see.

Yoongi looks at Hoseok like he hasn’t seen him before. Hoseok hates it. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re Gloss. You’re…” Hoseok clicks his tongue, feeling the dull pressure in his throat and his words dying before they escape his lips. “I didn’t know you’re Gloss. I didn’t know you could act all high and mighty and go around shamelessly turning people’s pieces into yours. I didn’t know you’re like that. I didn’t suspect you at all.” He sighs. “But it all makes sense, doesn’t it? You’re one of the biggest artists in Korea and all your pieces are protected by the government, and your friend just so happens to have ties to the graffiti squad.”

An incredulous look takes over Yoongi’s face. “You think I’m friends with Jin hyung just for some benefits? Is that how shallow you think I am?”

“Well,” Hoseok challenges him, “are you?” 

A hundred different expressions take over Yoongi at that, but he settles with the most disappointing look Hoseok has ever seen. “...I can’t believe you just asked me that.” He squares his shoulders, suddenly apprehensive. “I didn’t target Hoya. At least not initially. You saw how things turned out.”

Hoseok frowns at that. “Stop calling me Hoya.”

“Is that not who you are?”

“Not to you! ” Hoseok carps. “At least I wasn’t.”

Why does Yoongi look like he doesn’t understand? Hoya isn’t the guy Jimin introduced him to. Hoya isn’t the guy that can get so touch-starved he wouldn’t let Yoongi leave the bed. Gloss isn’t the guy running his fingers through Hoseok’s hair either. This relationship is between Yoongi and Hoseok, not Gloss and Hoya. Hoseok and Yoongi are the paradox.

What will become of them now? Maybe the answer is clear, but Hoseok is quietly but desperately blocking it out.

Yoongi leaves that day with the conflict unresolved, but with a promise to discuss this again when they’re not so worn out.

The next time comes and they’re both still defensive. Hoseok is adamant on Yoongi admitting that the first move from him was targeted since his graffiti was very clearly there, though Yoongi is just as insistent on sticking to his initial narrative.

In lieu of a scoff, Hoseok murmurs something about street artists under his breath that Yoongi very clearly hears. He doesn’t seem to have much to say though when it comes to him being favored by the law because he wasn’t seen as a vandal like Hoseok. It’s exhausting; this back-and-forth never reaches a point where it feels like they can settle on something. When Hoseok brings something up about him having to see his work get erased one by one, Yoongi would bring up the fact that he’s hated by everyone in the graffiti scene. It’s hard to, when their anger towards each other’s persona was very real, and it seeps into their personal life so quickly, so easily, contaminating it and making them shun each other even in their safest of places.

They stop pretending that things are fine, and Hoseok doesn’t have anyone to turn to because no one else knows about this. Jimin has no idea about their secret identities and telling him would feel like reciting a long-winded essay. The only person he can really turn to now is Namjoon.

“I can’t help but feel like I’m complicit,” Namjoon murmurs nervously, brows furrowed.

Hoseok looks at him, “How so?”

“Well, I kinda added fuel to the fire didn’t I?” Namjoon rubs the back of his neck. “I posted it all on my blog, updating it every time something new happens and people were riling you two up. I made it much more intense and therefore much more fatal for the two of you.”

Hoseok sighs. “Don’t try to blame yourself for this. You didn’t know. Nobody knew.”

“Except me,” a third voice intercepts them. Vante is twiddling his thumbs meekly from his seat. “I knew what was happening, but I didn’t say anything to either of you.”

“That’s because I told you not to,” Hoseok softens his voice.

Taehyung shakes his head still. “I should’ve just told you anyway.”

There’s no point lamenting in what they could’ve done though. If Hoseok could’ve done something different, he would’ve told Yoongi the moment they started dating and none of this would ever happen.

“Maybe we’re too different,” Hoseok feels himself say. “Hyung used to say it like it’s a good thing, but we’re losing each other because we’re too different.”  Maybe this is how it was always meant to be, he thinks. They orbit in different directions, drifting away from each other. Maybe they’ve never been one, never been a paradox. Maybe all it was was just a juxtaposition.

“What do you mean, you’re too different?” Someone asks. Hoseok isn’t sure if it’s Namjoon or Taehyung. It doesn’t really matter.

“I’m nothing like him,” Hoseok murmurs. “We look at things differently and we like different things and….” he sighs, “even as Gloss and Hoya, we never agreed on anything.”

“Aren’t you and your boyfriend pretty different, hyung?” Taehyung asks, though the question isn’t directed to Hoseok.

Namjoon hums at that. “You could say that, but I feel that that’s looking at it at surface-level.” Hoseok looks up from his hands, though he doesn’t say anything. “He’s an optimist, I’m a pessimist; he likes seafood, I don’t. They’re all pretty shallow things. I like talking to him though, and he likes talking to me because we talk about different things. We had an argument a few weeks ago,” his voice softens. “I thought he was too good for me, and he thought I was too good for him. We’ve just been going around in circles all this time. We might be different, but our minds go at the same pace.”

Hoseok appreciates their efforts, he really does, though his head returns to its hiding place in his hands and stays there. It all makes sense, what they’ve been telling him, though he can’t help but feel like it’s too late for that. He lies back into the couch, hoping that he’d sink into it.

“Tell us what you’re thinking about,” he hears Namjoon say.

What can Hoseok say to that? He’s thinking about how he can’t see a way out of this, about how he looks at Yoongi and sees the graffiti that he covered, about why the hell something so good has turned into this.

Hoseok closes his eyes.

“Is this the thing that will tear us apart?”

Gloss’s new piece over Hoya’s grief

[+535,-10]
Well he’s just taking the piss now isn’t he?? What an asshole

[+852,-9]
am i the only one who thinks this is really insensitive…

[+992,-15]
seriously ??? after everything he still has the gall to try and continue this whole “graffiti war” thing and vandalize hoya’s piece again? yes VANDALIZE. that’s what he’s been doing from the very beginning. GLOSS IS A GLORIFIED VANDAL.

[+351,-5]
anyway hoya’s piece still looks good

Eventually, Yoongi meets Hoseok again at Hoseok’s apartment. Eventually, because this relationship has become a ticking time bomb.

Hoseok has just woken up when Yoongi is at the door, and he doesn’t bother fixing himself up before answering it. It’s not like him smoothing his hair down and washing his face will change anything.

“Can I come in?” Yoongi asks him like they’re acquaintances.

Hoseok steps aside robotically. “Of course.”

When Yoongi steps into the apartment though, he turns to kiss Hoseok hello like it’s a usual occurrence. As surprised as he is, Hoseok kisses him back just as gently, just because it feels right to do this, despite the storm they’re in.

When they settle down on the couch, an exhaustion washes over them like they’ve just come down from a long, rigorous fight. Their limbs feel lifeless, too tired to move and inflict any more pain even though the other is just a reach away, as though they’ve both given up.

Yoongi reaches for him, and despite everything, somehow, Hoseok draws himself into Yoongi’s lap, fluttering his eyes close for a moment when he feels Yoongi’s fingers in his hair before keeping them open.

“I fucked up,” Yoongi is the first to say.

“I fucked up too,” Hoseok whispers.

Then it’s quiet for a few seconds as they wait, anticipating that the other will kill it by saying what they have to say.

“We can’t keep going on like this.” Yoongi beats him to it, his hand still brushing through Hoseok’s hair. “It’s not good for either of us. And I...”

Another long silence draws out. Hoseok listens to Yoongi clearing his throat about five times before he speaks again.

“I don’t think we can come back from this.”

“So say it,” Hoseok whispers, holding his heart in his hand, ready to squeeze it into nothing.

The fingers carding through his hair comes to a halt.

“Let’s break up.”

The silence that stretches after that feels like years, though barely seconds pass.

There’s a minute tremble in Yoongi’s voice when he speaks again. “Before it gets any worse. Let’s not hurt ourselves anymore.”

With weak hands, Hoseok shifts himself up to look at Yoongi. “Hyung,” he swallows down a painful lump. “Do you not…” his voice cracks embarrassingly and he gulps again. “With me… Not anymore?”

For a second, Yoongi’s eyes meet his, and they flicker away as soon as they do. “I don’t think I should tell you that.” 

That in itself is an answer, Hoseok thinks. That in itself is obvious enough.

Is this really something they can’t recover from? Is this really a big enough thing to end it all? Does Hoseok still feel anything when he looks at Yoongi?

Numb.

He feels numb. There’s no flip in his chest, no light in his eyes. There’s nothing left.

Maybe it is for the best.

He goes to sit up fully, hands trembling uncontrollably now. “Right.”

Should he cry? Would now be a good time to cry? He’s just lost the biggest star in his orbit.

He doesn’t feel like crying though, oddly enough. His eyes are dry and his lips are chapped, so either his body doesn’t have enough water to produce tears and cry, or his mind has already given up on everything.

Hoseok doesn’t cry, doesn’t feel anything at all. There’s an annoying ache at the base of his throat that he can’t swallow away.

Yoongi sighs. “I don’t like break ups.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok breathes. “Me neither.”

Yoongi looks down at his feet like he doesn’t know what to do now. “That’s all I came here to say.”

Hoseok only hums, but his voice still manages to break somehow. “Okay.”

“Can I…”

The question trails off into nothing. When Hoseok looks up, Yoongi seems to be rethinking his decision again and again, eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip between his teeth.

“One more time,” he breaks, his words coming out in soft mumbles like he’s afraid to ask. “Can I kiss you one more time?”

If Yoongi still wants to kiss him, then why are they breaking up? Doesn’t that mean there’s still hope for them? Why is this the end? Hoseok doesn’t ask any of these questions out loud.

Instead, he says, “Sure, hyung.”

When Yoongi kisses him this time, it’s painful. All Hoseok can feel is pain even though Yoongi’s lips are so light on his. The pain eats at him as he sees Yoongi out, as the door swings around and covers Yoongi’s distancing silhouette. Then the pain is everywhere.

Hoseok cries and cries and cries. He cries so much that day that he’s convinced he’ll never be able to cry again.

What kind of paradox is this?

Protective display glass has been put over Gloss and Hoya’s pieces

[+501,-0]
now wait a minute… i can’t be the only one who thinks this, right?

     [+104,-0]
     No no… I’m with you here…

[+62,-0]
it can’t be…

     [+0,-0]
     Hey sorry I’m dumb but what does this mean

          [+385,-0]
          everyone knows gloss’s pieces are always preserved. gloss knows that. his piece here barely touches hoya’s but it’s still seen as one whole piece so they ended up preserving hoya’s piece as well. so maybe, just maybe…

[+1,531,-2]
Gloss was trying to protect Hoya.

“I miss when we were roommates at the dorm.” Jimin lies down fully on the couch, draping himself over Hoseok’s lap in the process. “You kept everything so clean.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “I’m not your maid.”

Jimin smiles up at him. He knows Yoongi and Hoseok broke up, though he doesn’t really know why. He’s the only one left in the dark about their other identities in the streets, it seems.

Hoseok has never told anyone outright about Hoya. Jungkook knew because he was there, and everyone else found out because of some coincidence. He’s never had to tell anyone, or rather he has never been given the chance to—not until now, anyway.

Hoseok runs a hand through Jimin’s hair before urging him to sit up. “It’s a long story. Please don’t yell at me until I’m done talking.”

Somehow, it’s easy to tell Jimin, to slowly explain everything. It feels like a release to be the one passing along this information himself, to talk about how he’d sneak into alleys at night to paint and how he was rivals with a world-famous artist with people on the internet cheering for either side. Jimin, ever so patient when the time calls for it, listens to it all with widening eyes and curving lips, though quiet.

Hoseok tells him pretty much everything; how things were getting heated, how his suspicions grew, how it all fell apart that one night.

“Yeah, so,” he doesn’t know how to conclude. “That’s what’s been happening.”

He expects Jimin to yell since he looks like he’s been keeping it in this whole time, but his friend is still quiet. Instead, Jimin hugs him.

Jimin hugs him for a long time, not saying a word, not making a move to let Hoseok go or to keep him there.

“Are you mad?” Hoseok feels himself ask.

Jimin shakes his head against Hoseok’s shoulder. “‘Course not.”

“You can be.”

“Well I’m not.” Jimin tightens his hold. “It’s okay.”

He’s still quiet once he lets go, the silence continuing for a long while until Jimin speaks.

“How do you feel about him now?”

Hoseok looks down at his hands, at the gaps between his fingers that Yoongi used to fill. They didn’t fit together all too well; Yoongi’s hands are bigger than his so their fingers would slot together weirdly, and their height difference makes for an awkward angle when they hug. Hoseok wouldn’t have traded it for anything, though. There was nothing more comforting than holding Yoongi while listening to his rambling.

Hoseok squeezes his hands closed with nothing left in his palms.

“I miss him,” he tells Jimin. “But I don’t know if he misses me.”

“A you-shaped hole,” by Gloss

[+5,-20]
What political meaning does this one have?

[+1,931,-1]
not the biggest fan of gloss but there’s something so sad about this… i like it

[+75,-9]
boy got dumped omg

     [+6,-1]
     Why is that your conclusion?

          [+451,-10]
          have you ever pined for someone before? this is exactly what it feels like

Things are okay after a while. Hoseok still goes out to paint sometimes, though not as active as before. Sometimes Jimin tags along with him and just watches him paint, sitting on his backpack propped up on the ground. He’s seen the updates of Yoongi’s works from time to time, though he doesn’t want to think about them and trap himself inside his own head again. Yoongi is the one who ended things, isn’t he? There’s no reason why he should be so upset.

“Ah! This looks cool,” Jimin chirps. They’re walking down a fairly quiet street when his friend stops, and Hoseok turns to look at what has caught his attention. He doesn’t seem to realize of course, but he’s shoving his phone into Hoseok’s hands. “Can you take my picture with it?”

Jimin looks cute though, so he softens up. “Sure.”

Hoseok holds Jimin’s phone up, watching through the screen as Jimin jogs up to stand in front of the silhouette in Gloss’s piece. ‘A you-shaped hole’, it says near the bottom.

He doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t think about how the walls are white, or how the window is on one side of the bed, or how there’s a bedside lamp.

With adjustable brightness so you can sleep when a chapter of my book ends on a cliffhanger.

“The white walls look nice,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath.

“Hm?” Jimin turns to look at the art again once he’s got his phone back. “Oh, yeah. The white is really clean.”

‘Paradox’ by Hoya

[+941,-1]
sorry did i read that right ???? HOYA ????

[+1,543,-10]
Is he going through something or is he just trying to branch out I can’t tell. cool tho

[+654,-12]
so first it’s gloss getting his heart broken and now hoya is into trippy art?? what next ?? one of them turning out to be a highschooler ??

JK graduated from high school

[+3,215,-9]
SO NO ONE WAS GONNA TELL ME JK WAS A FUCKING HIGHSCHOOLER??????

[+1,245,-21]
holy shit what are his grades like if he’s always painting...the poor kid

“You sure you don’t mind people knowing?” Namjoon asks again cautiously, both hands still grasping his phone like he’s ready to delete the post at any moment.

Jungkook nods. “It’s whatever. I’m already graduating so it’s not like people can find me or anything.”

As an artist, JK is seen as a rising star. He’s met a handful of big names in his occasional visits to Seoul, and they seem to have taken a liking of him enough to come to his highschool graduation. The likes of KOMA, Leona, Vante, and Hoya are there, gathered around with gifts in their arms with no one actually realizing that it’s them.

KOMA puts a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Are you off to Seoul then?”

The boys nod meekly. “I guess so.”

“So you’re moving in with Hoya?” Leona asks from beside him.

Hoseok snorts at that. “He’ll manage by himself in a dorm.”

“Leona was in a dorm too, around fifty years ago,” KOMA jokes, “the old fart.”

Jungkook laughs at that, always easily entertained by the older guys trying to pick fights. It feels a bit unnerving for Hoseok to be here with other artists; he’s never really immersed himself with getting close with other people in the scene, but it’s been unexpectedly fine so far.

Vante is looking around the venue when his eyes catch something and he suddenly raises a hand up. “Hyung! Over here!” Jungkook’s eyes widen excitedly when he turns to see who it is. Hoseok’s did too—out of dread.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Gloss shuffles towards them before handing Jungkook a bouquet. “Congratulations, kid.”

He doesn’t seem to notice Hoseok until he actually scans around their circle and comes to a halt.

“Hey hyung,” Taehyung is the first to greet him before the rest follow suit. Only Namjoon and Taehyung seem to realize the weight of this moment. Hoseok doesn’t know where to look. He wonders if KOMA and Leona realize who this is. Perhaps not; they might not even shoot Yoongi a polite smile if they knew he is Gloss.

Yoongi has always been quiet at gatherings with new people so he may come across as cold to some. Hoseok thinks about how in actuality, he’s the opposite of that. The Yoongi that everyone knows is kind and shy, bashful when people call him out for breaking out of his usual demeanor, and shows his love in his own unique way.

Hoseok also thinks about how the Yoongi he knows is also different from all of that. Hoseok’s Yoongi is soft and rambles a lot, free and unfiltered; Hoseok’s Yoongi always has the most beautiful words brimming behind his lips that he’s usually too embarrassed to say; Hoseok’s Yoongi loves touch and kisses so soft that they feel like whispers against his skin.

Hoseok wafts it all away, these stupid clouds of thoughts. Yoongi isn’t his anymore.

“Why so late?” Namjoon tries to clear the air. “You look like you were running.”

“I wasn’t running,” Yoongi rebuts. “But it was my first time ordering a bouquet so I fumbled a little.”

“What,” KOMA, speaks up, tone joking, “you never got your sweetheart some flowers before?”

“No,” Hoseok mutters under his breath so no one could hear him. Yoongi never got him flowers, though it’s not like there’s ever been an occasion for it.

From the crestfallen look on his face however, Yoongi heard him.

None of them say a word to each other that day.

‘out of love,’ by Gloss

[+865,-20]
oh we’re still in his pining phase… great stuff so far though. maybe the heartbreak was a good step for his art

[+641,-12]
A lot of his works lately have been less political and more personal,,, hope he feels better soon. grateful that he’s putting these emotional strains into his art for us to enjoy

[+436,-1]
i know this can mean anything but gosh it hurts my heart ㅠㅠ i look at it and i feel like these flowers were meant for someone… 

Hoseok doesn’t think about it.

Well, he thinks about it a little, and he thinks he knows where the piece is, but he can’t seem to bring himself to go see it in person. He thinks about how they might be leftover feelings, just him trying to nurse himself through the aftermaths of their breakup by channeling it into what he does best. If he wants to get back together, they wouldn’t have separated in the first place.

He continues painting though, whenever there’s an opportunity. After meeting the other artists at Jungkook’s graduation, they’ve been inviting him around to paint or grab a drink. It’s a new approach to art for Hoseok, this sense of community he hasn’t really experienced before. It’s unexpectedly fun, and Hoseok feels himself letting loose, not getting hung up on minor imperfections and being more spontaneous on his feet and strokes.

“You’re on a roll lately,” Namjoon says to him. “I think you seem a lot more free.”

Hoseok hums at that. “I’ve been enjoying myself.”

“You know... big opportunities always come when you’re at your peak.”

The words are vague enough for Hoseok to look up from the table and at Namjoon’s smirk. With his suspicions growing, Hoseok leans closer to him on the table, eyes squinting, “Why’d you call me over here today?”

BREAKING: Hoya to release solo exhibition sponsored by Murakami

[+321,-0]
OH MY GOD? HOYA X MURAKAMI ?????

[+1,253,-0]
GO HIM WTF !!!! I’M SO PROUD OF HIM

[+2,541,-1]
he’s come so far ㅠㅠ it’s like watching one of your friends make it to the top. go hoya !!!!

[+123,-0]
AAAAAAAAAAAAA I CANT WAIT

[+531,-15]
ahh i feel kinda weird… is this what it feels like when a bird leaves its nest?

     [+46,-30]
     same;; so hoya is an “artist” now?? after being so proud to represent the graffiti scene, he’s gonna go join the obnoxious elites too? that makes him no difference from gloss

          [+403,-5]
          so was he supposed to turn down a huge opportunity like that?? it’s fucking murakami. if you’ve been supporting him for his art, why would you get upset when his art is going to be celebrated? were you even supporting him in the first place?? i swear some of you are only rooting for the underdogs until they get big and get all sulky saying they changed because you’ve lost that illusion of superiority from supporting people who are small and not wanting to consume “mainstream” stuff

               [+16,-0]
               this reply is loud as fuck holy shit

It all feels like a dream Hoseok is about to wake up from.

It was supposed to be a hobby; or at least it started out that way. Graffiti was a form he would morph himself into after keeping himself together throughout the day; it was a quiet thing, like a secret room in a large house that very little people know of.

Hoseok never dreamed—never even dared to think—that there’d be a day where he would be emailing back and forth with teams of people as an artist, that he’d be painting on a canvas and sending photographers locations of his pieces that are still up around the city.

Things seem to pass by in a blur. Hoseok is at so many places at once, talking to so many people who refer to him as Hoya in the most natural setting.

The night before the exhibition opens, he passes by a familiar-looking alley.

It’s bigger than he imagined.

Hoseok unzips his bag.

Hoya’s addition: ‘into me’

[+431,-1]
wait wait wait...what the hell does this mean

[+0,-10]
Is Hoya picking a fight???

     [+43,-2]
if he’s picking a fight, wouldn’t he do something a bit more insulting?? this is almost… romantic

          [+2,-0]
          are you seriously implying that they fucked or something

               [+0,-95]
               Aren’t they both guys um…

                   [+23,-0]
                   and???

                         [+34,-0]
                         if they fucked that’s actually iconic

                               [+546,-0]
                               this conversation is unhinged

Hoya isn’t present for the opening night of the exhibition.

Instead, Hoseok is sitting in a quiet booth of a bar that sits a few blocks away from the gallery, monitoring everything via a facetime call with Jimin.

“Ooh, this one’s popular,” Jimin flips the camera to show a crowd near a particularly daunting piece, his design made into a large sculpture in the middle of the hall. “This one’s my favorite, by the way,” Hoseok watches as the phone camera pans around, catching blurry silhouettes of people before it stops to focus on a painting of Hoya’s mascot sitting with a flower under the rain. “I’m buying it.”

Hoseok almost chokes on his water. “You don’t have to buy it. Just have it.”

“Absolutely not,” Jimin rejects stubbornly. “You’re getting my money whether you like it or not.”

“God…” Hoseok chuckles as he gives in. “Fine. On a discount.” Static takes over as Jimin starts to carp at him about paying the full price and he has to muffle his laugh into his hand to not disturb the other people in the bar.

Telling Jimin about all of this has made things so much easier. It was said through a held breath, but Jimin takes it all in pretty much at once, asks Hoseok questions about it regularly with no hindrance to their relationship. He isn’t upset about the fact that Hoseok hid it from him all this time, and it all feels so normal that Hoseok wonders what he was so scared of. Maybe he was supposed to mess things up with Yoongi.

“Ah!” Jimin exclaims, diverting Hoseok’s attention back to his phone, “your friend is here!” After a few seconds of the low angle of Jimin’s face occupying the facetime, Jungkook appears.

“Hyung!” Jungkook greets with a bright smile. “There are so many people! Where are you?”

“Hiding,” Hoseok tells him. “Wanna come over for drinks after this? Namjoon and Jimin are coming.”

“Yeah I’d love some water...” Jungkook grumbles. Hoseok is too embarrassed to admit that he forgot how young his friend is.

A silhouette suddenly appears near the booth and Hoseok jolts.

“Jesus,” Namjoon laughs, “it’s not like I creeped up on you or something. Hey, Mr. Established Artist.”

Hoseok snorts, “Hey. Have you had a look around already?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon hums, “my boyfriend bought your photobook.” Hoseok perks up at that. “Speaking of…”

There’s someone else standing next to Namjoon in the shadows. Namjoon turns to look at him with a smile before tugging him into the booth.

Hoseok’s mind empties itself out.

“Great show,” Seokjin says meekly in lieu of a greeting. “It’s packed, but I got to see everything.”

“Jin hyung,” Hoseok breathes, like it’s not obvious enough already.

It feels weird to see him like this, without Yoongi, with Namjoon. As Namjoon’s boyfriend.

Namjoon looks between them. “You two know each other already?”

Seokjin nods; he doesn’t look surprised. Maybe he figured it out from Namjoon’s mentions of him, maybe Yoongi told him.

Yoongi probably told him.

Hoseok doesn’t know what to say. Hoseok doesn’t even know what he would say if he’s Seokjin right now. What does he think of Hoseok? Does he hate Hoseok for separating with Yoongi? Yoongi’s the one who called it off, but surely he’s on Yoongi’s side.

“I’m sorry,” is not what he expected Seokjin to say at all.

Hoseok blinks at him, “For what?”

“Hyung,” Namjoon looks at him too, “it’s not your-”

“I could’ve done something,” Seokjin tells him, shoulders squared and eyes piercing into Hoseok’s. “I could’ve done something and stopped them from removing your work. I’m really sorry.”

Oh, that. That arena for the graffiti war between him and Gloss, the piece evolving itself every few weeks. The one that got scrubbed clean and Hoseok slept all his sadness away in Yoongi’s hold after Yoongi told him that they’re one—that they’re a paradox; complicated yet simple, nonsensical but there, filling in the crevices between them. That one.

Hoseok sighs out of his nose. Why does he draw everything back to Yoongi?

Hoseok wants to slump into the table and squeeze his eyes shut so tight that darkness is his only company. He grits his teeth.

When will it go away? When will he move on? When will things feel okay again?

He can’t dwell it away though, not now. Not when Seokjin’s gaze is still fixed on his, still pulling his chin up from how sullen they seem.

“It’s fine, hyung,” Hoseok says, and offers him a smile. He wonders if Seokjin thinks he’s acting different from usual; not as bright, not as loud, just quiet. This is Hoya. “I can always keep making more. I’ll make enough so that you won’t be able to get rid of them all.”

Seokjin’s gaze softens at that, his eyes clearing up as a smile plays on his lips. “I’ll be waiting.” He turns to his bag, rummaging through it until he pulls out a copy of the large photobook the exhibition sells. “Could you be so kind as to give this fan an autograph?”

Something happens then, ten more minutes later.

Jimin is still in the exhibition despite seeing everything already, talking to people like he’s a staff, sneaking in a few glasses of champagne every now and then and drinking it down like water.

It happens then.

“Oh!” Jimin’s face lights up, though he doesn’t turn the camera to show Hoseok who it is. “I didn’t expect you to come, hyung!”

Static crackles when the other person speaks so no one at the table can hear it very well. Jungkook shows up behind Jimin’s shoulder, talking to the guest as well.

“Ooh,” Hoseok hears Jungkook chirp, “you’ve brought flowers.”

“Yeah… where’s Hoseok?”

Hoseok lets go of his phone as soon as Jimin tilts the camera to show Yoongi with a bouquet of sunflowers. They can only see the ceiling of the bar from the other end of the call.

Namjoon and Seokjin both look up from their drinks in concern. How frightened does Hoseok look? How close is he to falling apart?

“Is Hoseokie hyung not here?” Taehyung’s voice comes up. Jimin’s face suddenly takes over the entire screen like he can somehow search for Hoseok. “He should be on the call. Maybe he went to pee.”

Yoongi’s face returns on the screen deflated, looking down at the bouquet like he doesn’t know what to do with it, like he wants to hide it somewhere out of shame.

“Are you two still not okay?” Namjoon asks hesitantly.

Still? Hoseok frowns at the wording. “We haven’t really talked.”

“I thought you were,” Namjoon murmurs, “with what you did to his piece.”

“I mean it doesn’t- I don’t-” Hoseok groans, not knowing what to say or how to explain it. Yes, Hoseok is still very much in love; no, Yoongi doesn’t want to get back together. Yes, it hurts.

He doesn’t let himself dwell on it for too long. He’s managed to push it down for so long, he can’t break now.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin’s voice comes into the picture, one hand on top of Namjoon’s like a gesture for him to back down. “You don’t have to explain. Just…” he sighs, “it’d be nice if you could talk it out with him.”

Hoseok looks at him, “What’s there to talk about?”

Seokjin looks down at the commotion on Hoseok’s phone, Taehyung shoving his phone into Yoongi’s hand for him to take a picture of him and Jimin like they’re an amusement park. Yoongi glances back at Jimin’s camera, though Hoseok’s front camera is still pointing up at the ceiling. “There are plenty of things to talk about”

He doesn’t say what, though.

Maybe Hoseok thinks about it more than he’d like to admit. People usually take pride in swiftly moving on from their past relationships and flourishing, never looking back after they’ve promptly made peace with everything. It’s even a badge of honor to remain as friends, to look over past feelings and yearning and stay close without breaching a barrier they’ve crossed before.

The thought grows sour in Hoseok’s mouth. He doesn’t think he can be friends with Yoongi, sitting next to him at gatherings without thinking about how he’d slump into his shoulder and hide his face into his neck when he’s drunk. How can he even look at Yoongi without hearing his whispers about how the universe has moved for them? How can they stay close without getting magnetized to each other? This may be another thing for him to figure out on his own.

“Yoongi hyung is asking if I know where you are,” Namjoon murmurs after looking up from his phone. “Do you want me to tell him?”

—He figures out very soon that it’s hard. It’s really hard.

It’s hard because Yoongi dressed up and did his hair; because he’s still grasping onto his bouquet even though he’s been holding it for at least an hour. It’s really fucking hard because Yoongi is staring at him whenever he turns to look, and he’d duck his head down while his eyes flicker between Hoseok and the bouquet.

Hoseok watches as Taehyung nudges him, jolting slightly and looking so helpless for a second before he composes himself again. He takes half of a step forward to where Hoseok is, eyes still flickering around like he doesn’t know where to look before holding up the bouquet.

“Congrats,” he croaks. “The exhibition is great.”

Something about the shyness, the hesitance to make eye contact, takes Hoseok back to when they first met. He thought Yoongi didn’t like him from how he had no problem talking to Jimin but wouldn’t spare Hoseok a glance, not until Hoseok coaxed him, nagging him until he grew red and he realized the reason behind his apprehension.

Hoseok reaches over, gently taking the bouquet into his hands. “Thank you.”

Should it really be this hard?

They’ve rented out the bar after the exhibition is closed to celebrate the opening night. The organizers are invited as well as Namjoon and whoever feels like they can be there.

“Drink up, drink up,” Seokjin shoves a drink into Hoseok’s hands, “you’ve worked hard.”

Namjoon snickers from next to him, the assigned sober one for the night. “Hoseok’s a lightweight.”

Hoseok hums at that, not bothering to refute it. “I drink like a conservative freshman who just turned twenty.” He grabs a nearby water bottle and dilutes the drink so much it probably tastes like nothing now.

Still, he takes turns with Taehyung sipping from the glass, the boy still grimacing after each smack of his lips. “Look at those two,” he blubbers, “they’re monsters.”

Hoseok follows Taehyung’s glare to Jimin, who’s downing each drink like it’s water, and Yoongi, twiddling his thumbs next to a row of empty glasses.

He watches the night pass like that, his inhibitions dissolving gradually until Yoongi is sitting at his booth and he couldn’t care less.

“You two,” Seokjin points drunkenly between them, “it’s time to talk.”

“Oh yeah,” Jimin chirps from next to Hoseok. “I’ve been waiting for this. Go on.”

Yoongi groans as he rubs his eyes. “Don’t…”

“Come on,” Namjoon urges them even though he’s completely sober, watching Taehyung practically manhandle Yoongi to sit opposite Hoseok. “You two can take turns asking each other questions. Yoongi hyung can go first.”

Yoongi’s face is red, though it’s normal for him when he drinks. There’s a frown on his face that won’t go away even as he gives in and asks, “How are you?”

“Fine,” Hoseok manages out. “Good.” He doesn’t realize it’s his cue to ask Yoongi something until at least two people pipe up, urging him to do it. “How are you? ”

“Could be better,” Yoongi murmurs. “That paradox thing you made… is that about us?”

The question elicits a table-wide yowl, though Hoseok feels panic set in his veins. “...Yeah.” Another cheer. “Did you actually enjoy the exhibition?”

“I did,” Yoongi answers, and he sounds genuine. “Do you like my works?”

“They’re not my cup of tea, but I like your concept. I can see why you’re famous.” Hoseok offers a smile. “Do you regret painting over my piece?”

Yoongi grimaces at that. “Yeah. I thought it was a good idea because it’d make a nice contrast since it’s so colorful, but I think I got a bit too cocky and didn’t think it through enough. Do you regret painting over my piece?”

Hoseok’s smile lifts into a smirk. “No. Did you plan to tell me about you being Gloss at all?”

“I knew I was going to do it one day, but I just didn’t know when would be good. What about you?”

“I… wasn’t going to. No.”

“Were you scared that I wouldn’t like it?”

Hoseok’s breath hitches. “It’s my turn to ask the question.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Are those pieces about me?”

“...Yes. Were you scared that I wouldn’t like it if I knew you were Hoya?”

“Yeah. Something like that. How did you do that piece under the highway? That’s insane.”

Yoongi chuckles at that. “There’s a manhole on the highway you can go through to get under it, probably for maintenance. Taehyung helped.” Taehyung quirks up a smile.

“This is a nice bonding time for you two,” Namjoon comments with a contented sigh.

Yoongi ignores him. “Come on, next question.”

“Well,” Hoseok hums as he thinks, and says it before he even gives himself time to rethink it, “...do you still love me?”

Yoongi’s face has never fallen so quickly. Everyone around them is cooing and playfully whacking Yoongi’s shoulder but he’s still, unmoving as he ducks his head down, not saying a word.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Hoseok feels himself say after he sobers up, though very belatedly. No one seems to realize what’s wrong until Yoongi looks up with tears brimming in his eyes.

“Ah, crap,” Namjoon retracts his hand solemnly. “Fun’s over. Sorry, hyung.” Yoongi shakes his head, ducking his head back down like it’s too heavy to keep up. He’s never liked people seeing him cry.

Without thinking much of it, Hoseok shifts around to the other side of the booth and reaches for him. With a gentle hold of the back of his head, he pulls Yoongi into his shoulder, holding him there as Seokjin ushers everyone away to give them space.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Hoseok whispers when he feels Yoongi’s shoulders shake and tremble under his hold. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Of course,” Yoongi murmurs faintly, and Hoseok’s gut sinks in guilt. He really shouldn’t have been so mindless.

But then Yoongi murmurs again, clearer this time, “Of course I do.”

His hand clutches onto Hoseok’s sweater as he cries, and Hoseok can’t do anything but hold him, keeping him away from the rest of the world until he’s ready to emerge again.

The breakup is hard, Hoseok knows that to his very core. It’s hard, yet seeing how much it has affected Yoongi makes him truly realize the weight of it all. It was easier to just repress it for months, to just drown himself in work or expelling it into graffiti on a wall and leaving it there. There’s no use now, though; not when Yoongi is crying, open and vulnerable, not when Hoseok holds onto him and realizes how much he’s missed doing this.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that. Everyone else is sitting near the front of the bar, talking quietly.

Yoongi still loves him.

A few moments after Yoongi’s shoulders have stopped shaking, he murmurs, “You’ve always been better at it.”

Hoseok looks down at him, smoothing his hand up Yoongi’s head. “At what?”

“Holding it in.”

It goes quiet again. Hoseok doesn’t dispute it; sometimes he finds it easier to pretend it doesn’t exist.

When Yoongi speaks again, muffled into Hoseok’s shoulder, his voice is more stable. “You suck at lying, you know?”

“I thought I was better at holding it in,” Hoseok murmurs back.

“It’s not the same thing,” Yoongi tells him. “I’m bad at holding it in,” he pulls away from Hoseok, and cold replaces the warmth on his shoulder, “but I’m good at lying.”

Hoseok shifts out of the booth, with Yoongi robotically following him so they end up standing next to each other.

His hands are still shaking when Hoseok looks down, so he reaches for it, limply grasping it into his hold. It immediately tightens, and Hoseok doesn’t want to let go of it ever again.

He doesn’t let go when they exit the bar, holding on still as they give the exhibition one last walk around and Namjoon hands him the guestbook with the messages and comments from the people who attended the exhibition. Yoongi is quietly standing behind him the entire time, and no one comments on it.

“Woah,” Hoseok flips through the book with one hand, “there’s a lot.” Some messages are long and thoughtful, some are on the more artistic side, drawing his mascot or writing in his throw-up style. Some pages are from other artists, some that Hoseok has talked to before, and some that Hoseok has only heard of. It’s a pleasant surprise.

“I wrote something too,” he hears Yoongi murmur. Hoseok scans through the book until he sees it—although additional comments have been made to it.

Yoongi is looking at it too. “I wrote ‘this is only the beginning’, but it- yeah.”

Hoseok doesn’t know how he hasn’t realized this before—he’s seen the comments made about Gloss online, the way people despise Gloss and don’t think he deserves his fame and success, he saw how easily they can twist things into excuses to bash on him, yet Hoseok never stopped to think about how it’s Yoongi who has been shouldering all of the hate.

The guestbook shuts with a slam, and Hoseok laces their fingers together, holding tight as their fingers slot into their rightful gaps and he feels Yoongi’s fingertips on the back of his hand. They don’t have to fit perfectly for it to feel right. Yoongi’s hand can engulf his and still, no one else’s would fit better. This hand belongs to Hoseok.

“Do you think we let them control us?” He whispers out the question.

“Maybe not controlled,” Yoongi murmurs back, “swayed, maybe. Persuaded.”

Has Hoya become an egotistic, petty thing because everyone had driven him to that point?

Hoseok doesn’t let go of Yoongi’s hand as they say their goodbyes to everyone, as he accepts the sunflower bouquet Jimin has been holding for him.

They walk down the street together, not saying a word, not even knowing where they’re going. Every turn feels automatic, like they’re just letting the wind take them somewhere.

And then they stop.

They stop at the side of an abandoned building.

The bouquet on the wall pretty much matches the one in Hoseok’s arm, his mascot holding it the same way he is right now.

“Did you mean it?” He hears Yoongi ask from beside him.

Hoseok’s eyes trace the strokes of paint, the hasty lines he made without thinking twice. The only thing in his mind then was if he could hold Yoongi again, he would never let go and they would’ve gotten through it somehow.

“Yeah,” Hoseok breathes, “I did.”

It’s Yoongi’s apartment that they end up at.

Yoongi lets go of his hand when they stand in front of that door. The one that was supposed to have a black mold infestation. The one that Yoongi lied about.

He turns to look at Hoseok, “Do you want to see…?”

Gloss’s studio is big; bigger than Hoya’s at least, considering that Hoseok doesn’t really have a specific workspace for his stuff.

There are a few worn-down tables pushed to the walls with piles of large hard paper for making stencils and duct tape for sticking them onto the surface when it’s time. There are sketches taped to the walls, some Hoseok recognizes to be the basis for Gloss’s works. A few large plastic containers sit in the corner, filled with bottles of black and white spray cans. Yoongi walks up to an area behind his shelf of supplies and Hoseok follows him to find an empty space with used stencils taped onto the wall and arranged into an image.

There’s one for the window, one for the bedside lamp—one for Hoseok’s silhouette. 

“I liked this one,” Hoseok feels himself say. “It’s nice.”

“When I went to see you at your apartment to... break up,” Yoongi says, like it pains his throat to speak, “when you opened the door with your messy hair and bleary eyes, I loved you.” His voice bubbles down into whispers then. “I knew I loved you, and everything in me was telling me not to do it, but I thought there was no way we could get out of this without falling apart. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

It’s painful to hear this other side of the story, to really witness how this has struck the both of them. “I thought so too. Even though I didn’t want to break up.”

Yoongi bites his lip, eyes still fixed on the stencils on the wall. “I kept thinking about it afterward. I kept thinking about the window on the side of the bed, the adjustable reading light. I even figured that there’d be double curtains so you could see the city lights at night and block out the sun rays in the morning.”

His voice breaks suddenly, “And then I realized it wasn’t just a thought.”

Yoongi’s eyes are glossy when Hoseok turns to look, tears forming the second time that night and threatening to spill at any moment. No matter how it ended or how hurt Hoseok had felt, he learns then that he can never ignore Yoongi crying, not even if the world is falling apart around them. Not when Yoongi still lets Hoseok see him cry like this.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok whispers, trying to smile, reaching for him, thumbing the tears away as soon as they roll down Yoongi’s cheeks. He kisses under Yoongi’s eye, “It’s okay.”

“Don’t,” Yoongi whispers back, fainter but with all the hurt in the world, “don’t do that.” His hands come up to pull Hoseok’s away. “I can’t move on if you do that.”

He wonders if Yoongi has been trying. Hoseok has, and evidently it didn’t work at all. He couldn’t figure out how.

To hell with it all, he thinks then, and it feels like the simplest of solutions.

He pulls Yoongi closer; closer, until he can wrap his arms around him, until he is all Yoongi sees; closer, until he feels that Yoongi’s not going anywhere.

“Then don’t do it,” Hoseok tells him once their eyes meet. “Stay with me.”

He watches as Yoongi’s eyes flicker to every part of his face, rapid as his brain is trying to process everything. “Do you…”

“I still love you,” Hoseok whispers, watching more tears slip down the corners of Yoongi’s eyes. “I never stopped.”

He’s stopped crying by the time Hoseok tilts his head, eyes fluttering closed though hesitant to lean in when Hoseok kisses him.

It takes Yoongi a second, or at least one light peck on his lips for him to realize that this is them as one, magnetized back together after straining to pull away from each other. He kisses Hoseok back, holds onto Hoseok tighter like a promise.

Things blew up into ridiculous scales that they never expected, this entire thing. Maybe it would’ve been manageable if they were more honest, maybe they would’ve worked through it somehow without hurting each other.

None of that matters now though, not when they’re one again, not when Hoya is as in love with Gloss as Gloss is with him.

This feels right. Looking at Yoongi’s eyelashes, standing so close their noses are touching. This is easy, and this is so right.

Yoongi finally smiles when Hoseok rubs their noses together, bright and beautiful. “Fucking Hoya.”

Hoseok breaks into laughter at that. “Yeah, that…” he fits his face into Yoongi’s shoulder as he giggles. “That was fucking clever.”

He feels Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he laughs, and everything is right again.

Gloss and other artists spotted at Hoya’s exhibition

[+851,-0]
Well now I’m freaking out because I was there for opening night and you’re telling me I could’ve been standing next to Gloss that entire time

     [+2,-0]
     did you see hoya???

          [+36,-0]
          Hoya wasn’t there I think;; if he was then you’re just freaking me out more

[+747,-2]
ummm aren’t y’all going a little overboard with the gloss hate… it’s one thing to talk shit about him on the internet and another to vandalize his genuine message for hoya

[+642,-1]
some of you need an attitude check wtf...scribbling over gloss's message like that is so fucking rude

[+562,-3]
see if gloss went all the way there in person then they’re probably friends now. can we stop with the petty hate please.

[+386,-0]
hello this is so sweet ??? they started off as rivals trying to one-up each other and now they’re openly showing each other support. what a wholesome end to graffiti war !!

[+235,-36]
i’m still certain that they fucked

[+175,-60]
<comment has been removed by moderator>

     [+0,-0]
     what did this say?

          [+6,-1]
          they saw a guy dressed like a european fine art student and guessed it was vante lol they’re probably right

               [+1,-0]
               RM removes any comment discussing the artists’ real identities no matter how accurate they are though

The night is quiet, save for the clacking sounds of spray cans and careful footsteps.

Gloss is busy tucking his stencils back into his duffel bag when a pastel blue spray can is set down on the ground.

“I think this is it,” Hoya murmurs before pulling his mask down and tucking it under his chin. “Your verdict?”

Gloss blinks up at the wall, the darkness blinding most of his vision, but the outlines are clear. “That works.”

“Works?” Hoseok turns to him, offended by the wording. “It just works?”

Gloss rolls his eyes at that. “It’s good. We’ll come and get a proper look at it in the morning.”

“Well, I guess yours is alright too,” Hoseok huffs, crouching down to pack his spray cans into his backpack. He looks at Gloss, reaching over to tug his mask down, smiling at his frustrated grunt as he swats Hoseok’s hand away. “You mean the stars to me.”

Yoongi looks up at him with a frown. “All of a sudden?” It’s his way of getting flustered, of trying to distract people from his growing blush. Hoseok has never loved anyone more.

“Hyung,” he whispers, softening Yoongi’s features. With a gentle grasp of Yoongi’s chin, he tips his face up into a kiss.

In that moment, they are the only paradox in the universe.

Gloss x Hoya