Chapter Text
Pure blinding white coats the land as far as eyes can see. The tree line in the distance is shadowed by the haze of snow, trees almost buried under the weight of it.
The blizzard ended yesterday. The sky is clear for once, but a still thin fog filters the world. It’s left stifled under ice and a thick, gripping silence.
Fresh intact snow crunches under his paws as he puts one step after another in an uneven line. The soft sound echoes in the empty dead land, almost too loud.
His tail swishes behind him, clearing his paw prints with practiced ease. It's habit. He doesn’t even realize what he is doing. He doesn’t care.
Namjoon cared.
He always reminded him to keep himself out of sight. To not leave a trace.
But Namjoon is not here now.
He strolls in the dizzying whiteness. The open land stretches around him like an illusion. His senses are fogged, dulled. His vision takes longer to clear after each blink. Icy air burns his nose, keeping him from slipping further.
He doesn't have a destination. Hasn't had one for a long time.
He avoids the treeline, dreading the dome of branches blocking the sky. Being out exposed in the open land isn't any safer either. He can't decide. He doesn't know.
Namjoon would know.
The colorless world is messing with his already troubled mind. Seeing everything in white makes the buzz in his head vibrate louder, his cloudy vision tilts sideway.
His tail keeps swishing mechanically. He can't leave a trace. He can't remember why. He just clears the path after his large paw prints press in to the soft snow. He doesn’t know if he is doing a good job at all. He can’t be possibly in any danger, but he isn't sure anymore. Namjoon isn't here to tell him. He is confused. Namjoon would know what to do. He always does.
But Namjoon is not here.
His head spins. He stumbles, one foot catching on the other. He huffs loudly, almost missing the faint sound of snow crunching in the distance.
His ears twitch. He comes to a halt and stops breathing at once.
The sound comes again. And again. Like a beat, over and over, breaking the eerie silent.
His head clears a little as the thump thump thump of his heart booms in his ears. He sniffs, catching the faint scent of something among everything else and his heart drops.
Human.
He blinks against the light, eyeing the treeline. It takes a while and several hard blinks for him to register what he sees. He shakes his head. The trees blur together. He can’t estimate the distance.
A human.
He should hide.
Should he?
He can’t decide what to do. He isn’t sure if he can reach the forest and hide in time, or if he can run at all. He doesn’t even know which direction the sound comes from. He should know. He is supposed to know.
He doesn’t know.
Namjoon does.
The sounds get louder, closer. His heart grips in panic, mind reeling.
Namjoon would know what to do.
Namjoon would tell him what to do.
Namjoon isn't here.
Namjoon isn’t here.
Namjoon isn’t here.
His tail has stopped moving. He stands there frozen like a statue.
Watching his paws press in to the thickness of snow hurts his eyes. The deep red-brown of his fur is too much color. His eyes tear up. His stomach churns. Panic squeezes its way up to his throat. Vision goes dark around the edges
The sounds are loud in his ears, reverberating in his skull like a thunder crack.
His head feels too heavy for his neck. His shape feels wrong. His snout presses against the cold as he collapses like a frightened pup, curling up in to a tight ball, his tail curls around him. He places a paw on his ears and takes a long painful breath and fills his lungs with cold air and dust of ice.
Alpha
Alpha doesn’t answer. The bond is silent.
He shakes, trembles, fears.
And he does the last thing his useless brain decides to do.
He shifts.
Yoongi is regretting this. This was never a good idea yet he is here for no obvious reason. There was something, some vague reason he doesn’t remember, before he left the warmth of the house but now everything feels meaningless. It’s cold. There is nothing but snow and snow and sky and snow.
Trees are bent under the heavy weight of it. Yoongi avoids them with a full body shiver as he glares at them like they’ve offended him. They look offensive. They stand out like a huge middle finger at his face. A huge middle finger bent over snow.
Yoongi hates snow.
Everything else is hidden under a layer of blinding white. There is nobody, no trace of a living thing being out there, no one but Yoongi, who is trying to dig a path in the thick snow.
The chill is numbing, squeezing its way through the mindful layers of clothes and wool, poking his bare skin like tiny needles. His scarf is doing its best to keep his nose warm and protected but Yoongi is sure it’s already as red as a bright tomato. He stopped feeling it twenty minutes ago.
He should have stayed home, shoveling the snow around the house and mind his own business. But here he is. Shivering and questioning his sanity. There is no one with a stable mind in the head going out right after a blizzard.
Like what for? Searching for what?
His tummy starts aching with frustration and annoyance. He is annoyed at himself. At Seokjin. Who left with a kiss on his lips and a bright smile and made Yoongi think going out would be a good idea.
He sighs and walks like it’s his punishment for being stupid, intentionally stumping his foot, making his toes tingle in protest. His toes are wet and cold. Wet and cold are the worst combination in the world.
He grumbles and curses everything and everyone and moves forward before he stops. Blinking his eyes.
His mind could be playing tricks on him. He squints, the bright reflection of the dim sun on ice is fucking with his vision. He blinks and looks again.
There is something on the snow.
Something…reddish…
He rubs his eyes and gulps nervously. He wishes he wasn’t alone to process everything all by himself. Now that he has stopped walking, the sound of nature has reduced to his own breathless pants and nothing else. He braces himself and walks ahead cautiously.
His eyes can’t squint more. What the fuck is that? What is Yoongi seeing?
Fuck, is that hair?!
His mouth falls open, cold air sweeps in and dries the moisture in an instant but he doesn’t register it. His brain is working hard. His legs are just a pair of frozen logs.
Yoongi sees hair, and skin.
And his heart drops.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
There is something, someone, on the snow.
He picks up speed. It’s ridiculously unhelpful and just makes his muscles scream in protest. His lungs scream in protest. His heart in now beating like a war drum and makes his head dizzy. A different chill is running down his spine. The muscles of his back have all went taut. He shivers, whether from the eccentricity of what he sees or watching a person laying fucking naked out there in the fucking freezing cold.
Dead.
That’s the next thing Yoongi thinks about.
Outright dead. There is no way someone could stay alive like that.
He should go back.
Go back and wait by the fire for Seokjin to come home and then come back together if Seokjin agrees.
That’s a deeply heartless thought.
And he doesn’t go back because he has a heart. A big one. A heart that pulls him forward like an invisible rope draws him to it even if it twists to a knot of anxiety in his chest.
He stumbles and falls and curses and prays and gasps loudly when the slight body curls in even tighter.
Alive.
Alive alive alive
“Oh my god.”
He doesn’t try to get up anymore and crawls the rest of the way on his hands and knees, his mind is all over the place.
He holds his breath until his chest hurts and hisses when the cold seeps in to his clothes but gets distracted by what he sees; a slender body, bare, skin too pale to consider normal, half covered in waves and waves of red-brown hair, long and wild.
A pair of wide, scared eyes lift to stare at him from between the strands of auburn. His mouth falls open as he stares back, all thoughts gone, cold forgotten.
He closes and opens his mouth uselessly, trying to say something as his gaze alternates between each of those glassy doe eyes, watching as every kind of troubled emotion unfurl in them. Fear, distress, apprehension, confusion…so much confusion.
“Oh my goodness.” His mouth is dry.
“Oh god…”
He sounds breathless, his voice is scratchy. The wide fearful eyes blink, nails dig in to skin where hands are gripping the arms desperately. He should be fucking freezing. He should be fucking dead!
His mind is flickering violently as his shaky numb fingers fumble with the buttons of his coat.
“It’s okay. I got you.”
He whispers, pulling his body out of the coat clumsily and drapes it over the tense body of the stranger. He tries to smile kind, warm, even if everything is freezing and hopes he doesn’t looks like what he feels. He wants to look trustworthy. He must be looking terrified instead. He bites his lips and hopes he isn’t behaving like a crazed caveman. But he isn’t sure. Not every day he stumbles upon someone naked in the snow.
Why is he naked? Fuck.
He shivers from cold and adrenaline attacking his nerves. This is the most eventful his life has been since his garden started to go barren. And that not even comes close to this. He still can’t believe it.
His voice is squeaky. Maybe funny in a way, if they were in a sillier situation. They aren’t in a sillier situation; someone is freezing on the snow.
“Hey, you’re safe now. I’m here, you’re fine…”
He whispers gently, placing his hands on the coat to comfort but not intrude. All he can touch though, is the thick fabric and a faint line of a body that might break if Yoongi grips too hard.
“Can you sit up for me please? Hm?”
He helps the man sit up and braces himself for some sort of resistance, maybe a little push or a scream and is ready to insist that he is not dangerous but doesn’t receive anything other than an intense, frightened stare as if Yoongi is going to jump him any second.
“You’re gonna feel better in a second, I promise.”
His hands work to wrap the huge coat around the thin body and before he covers him whole, he sees a glimpse of a thin scar line on the throat and a strange bite mark on the slop of his shoulder and his stomach flips. He feels sick as he swallows down the knots of concern clogging his airway and plasters another smile on his chapped lips.
The man watches him as Yoongi yanks his scarf off himself and then winds it around his head instead. He averts his gaze from Yoongi momentarily to look at the scarf as if he’s never seen something like this before. Wonder slowly seeps in to his gaze and replaces apprehension as Yoongi wraps the scarf, covering his mouth and nose and does a careful knot.
“That’s much better now.”
He wishes it is because that’s all he can do for now.
“There you go. Hi.”
Now only two doe wide eyes with curiosity flooding in them blink at Yoongi and Yoongi’s heart melts. His coat is huge on the man. It’s huge on Yoongi too but somehow it looks bigger when he looks at it when it’s not on himself.
The man moves slowly, slipping his arms into the sleeves sluggishly. He is still a bit dazed as if the mere presence of Yoongi is an oddity. He brushes his hands on the coat and traces the outline of the buttons.
Yoongi resists the urge to hover. He sits back tensely. Without the scarf and his coat he feels lighter and obviously much colder. He tries to get his chattering teeth in control.
“Are you alright?”
There is no reaction. Yoongi’s scarf is more fascinating than himself, apparently. He tries again.
"My name is Yoongi. Can you tell me yours?”
The man looks up, just barely. He grips the scarf and clenches and unclenches his fists around it. He shifts, burrowing more in to the shield of clothes.
“I’m not going to hurt you okay? I’m just trying to help.”
Yoongi shows his hands to prove his point.
“You don’t have to give me your name if you don’t want to. I…okay um…just tell me, are you hurt?”
Yeah. He needs to cross those options out.
There is no answer besides the stare as if Yoongi is talking in another language. For a heart dropping second Yoongi is afraid if he really is talking in another language and gets ready to freak out when there finally comes a subtle shake of head.
Yoongi could have missed it if he didn’t wait for the answer so intently.
“No? Are you sure? That’s good. That’s good.”
He nods to himself. That’s okay. He got this.
“Can you tell me what happened? Are you lost?”
He wants to ask so much more. But he should stick to the more general questions rather than addressing the questions in his head.
Why are you naked? What are those scars? Are you in danger? Did anyone hurt you?
Yoongi wants to ask. He doesn’t. He waits patiently. He should be patient even if it’s better to hurry and go back home and coax answers from this beautiful eccentric stranger in the warmth of the house where he won’t be trembling. It turns out it’s a lot harder that he thought. The man still stares and it’s like he is scanning through Yoongi’s soul. Yoongi shivers. And waits.
The man looks at him, and then slowly pulls down the scarf to reveal his neck. He touches his throat and blinks at Yoongi with expectant eyes. Yoongi stares at his neck dumbly. At the faint line which isn’t new but has to fade yet. It’s strange. Yoongi’s heart twists.
“…Are you hurt there?”
He asks slowly. The man nods and then shakes his head. He opens and closes his mouth. His pout is horribly heartbreaking. His face twists a little in frustration and looks at Yoongi with pleading eyes.
“You… can’t speak?”
Yoongi tries again and then the man nods, a firm bob of head as if that’s the only thing he is certain of. Yoongi sucks in the crisp air in a big gulp and reminds himself of the shitty weather they are having this conversation in. No speaking. Okay. That explains a lot. Yoongi tries not to think about why he can’t speak and focus.
“Okay. Okay I understand now. We can figure something out later, no worries.”
He presses his palms to his eyes until he sees stars. Then inhales again and nods decisively.
“How about this? I live nearby. Do you want to come to my place and warm up a little? Then we can…figure something out later? I have tea and food and…we can chat more? I mean…communicate…somehow…I…hope.”
He keeps his tone kind and encouraging and gaze persuasive because he can’t stay here another second and needs the man to say yes. He can’t leave him out here.
He looks so, so lost. And small. And pretty.
And can’t speak!
Yoongi stands and curses when he can’t feel his calves. He can’t feel many of his body parts but he doesn’t think about it. He would be warm in a few minutes. Both of them.
“Let’s go?”
He holds out a hand with a cheerful smile and waits. The man is painfully slow at processing. Or maybe he is just distrustful. He has every right to be. Yoongi understands. He doesn’t rush him. He can be patient. As patient as the cold lets him. God he hates winter.
Delicate cold fingers slowly rise and grip Yoongi’s gloved hand, legs untuck one by one and the man stands on shaky legs slowly and then immediately tumbles.
"Whoa, easy.”
Yoongi is quick to catch and steady him gently. They both look a bit startled but the red head looks a little more terrified. He looks down as if the earth had betrayed him by the gravity or he’s just discovered legs.
Yoongi chuckles softly and rubs his arms comfortingly.
"You can’t walk. That’s alright. I’m not even surprised.”
Maybe not surprised, but definitely concerned.
"It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just hop on my back.”
He crouches down and misses the uncertain look on the man’s pale face. Yoongi waits patiently and the man slowly eases himself on Yoongi’s back and secures his thin arms around his neck.
Yoongi stands and surprises himself by how effortlessly he lifts him.
"up we go.”
He chirps and starts walking, choosing his steps carefully. His heart his beating faster that usual and his breath mist over in front of him. His face feels numb but his back is warm. The weight on his shoulder is grounding. He adjusts it once in a while and every time apologizes for disturbing his passenger’s peace. The man only holds on to his shoulders tighter.
“We’re almost there.”
He says when he sees the small outline of the cabin. The slight weight on his shoulder lifts from where it was burrowed in and he looks up.
“There. That’s our home.”
He sounds like an excited kid who is eager to bring his friend home. He’s never been happier to see it. it feels like it takes ages to reach it but finally they do and Yoongi is already feeling the warmth and can smell the familiar scent of home. He feels giddy. It’s been ages since they had guests. He runs the small steps up and pushes the door open.
“Hyung?”
The inside is empty. Everything is just the way Yoongi left it.
“I think hyung isn’t home yet.”
He explains as he sets the guy down carefully by the cushions in front of the fire place and hastily takes his gloves off. His fingers are so stiff Yoongi wants to shove them in the fire.
“Seokjin hyung is my partner.”
He explains as he adds wood in to the hearth. The fire cracks and the scent of burnt wood fills the space.
“He is so nice, I promise.”
He is hoping so.
The stranger keeps his gaze on Yoongi and follows his every movement with curiosity. He looks around him, at the small sanctuary shielding them from the cold. He inches his feet closer to the heat tentatively and watches Yoongi as he grabs blankets and drapes them over him.
“You’re okay.” Yoongi says as he cocoons the man in his hand-knitted blankets thoroughly. He doesn’t protest or even move. He just looks at Yoongi and Yoongi doesn’t look at him.
"Are you good now? Warm?”
The man nods. The movement barely noticeable from under the layers of wool.
"Good. I’m... gonna...yeah, fetch you clothes. Hang on a second.”
Yoongi dashes in the room and comes back with folded clothes in one hand and yet another blanket in the other.
"I think they fit you. I mean I hope so.”
He puts the clothes and the blanket next to the man and smiles.
"You can change here. I won’t look! I’m gonna go make some tea.”
And he jumps over the room to where the ‘kitchen' is. It’s just a few cabinets in the corner with different colors each. Seokjin painted them. Said it’s fun. Yoongi prefers plain wood but he loves Seokjin more. So their cabinets are in different colors each. He grabs the kettle from the white one and the box of tea leaves from the green one where they keep their herbs. The mugs are in the orange one.
When he is back with kettle in hand, the man is sitting on the cushions, now dressed in Yoongi’s shirt and cardigan and pants. Yoongi’s scarf is clutched tightly in his hands and he is staring.
"Oh good. They fit you.”
Yoongi jumps back to the fire and secures the kettle on the heat. Then he plumps down on the worn out carpet with a content sight. What a day.
The man is still staring at him with a scrutinizing gaze. He is rubbing his fingers on Yoongi’s pants absentmindedly. His hair is cascading down his shoulders to his waist and Yoongi lets his mind wander and combs his fingers in them. They need a real brushing later.
He drapes the blankets back on him and lets him keep the scarf.
“You’ll be warm in a minute. Don’t worry.”
Just as Yoongi notices he forgot to take off his boots, the man reaches for his hand, gently pulling at his fingers.
"What!”
He laughs awkwardly. His fingers are tingling from warmth slowly seeping back to them. The man turns his palm up and for a brief second Yoongi is reminded of a shaman who read his palm years ago. He quickly shakes the memory off and waits. With a glance at Yoongi he traces his finger on his palm, and looks at Yoongi expectantly.
"Huh?”
Yoongi must be dumb. The man looks a little disappointed. He points at himself and traces again. Yoongi is terrified for a second by being completely dumbfounded but then it hits him.
"Ohhh your telling me your name?”
The man nods quickly.
"Okay go on, go on.”
Yoongi sits straight. A new surge of excitement tugs at his lips.
“H? okay. H-o-s…o? No? Um…e? It’s an e. Sorry.”
He giggles. He feels drunk on the pleasant heat as his limbs defrost slowly and his muscles relax. It feels good to sit on the hard warm floor instead of cold snow and try to put a name on the pretty face he found in the woods.
“Go on!”
The man keeps tracing slow lines. His fingers are slender and long. His hands are smaller than Yoongi’s. His touch is tentative and timid and he gets distracted by the fire easily. Yoongi is excited. He hasn’t felt excited in a long time.
"Hoseok? Your name is Hoseok?”
He gasps and claps his hands happily. Thank god Seokjin isn’t here to make fun of him.
“Oh my god I know your name now. It’s a nice name. Nice to meet you Hoseok-ah.”
Hoseok blushes and ducks his head. He rocks and tucks his hands between his knees, making himself small under the heap of blankets around him.
The kettle whistles. Yoongi gets it off fire, still smiling like an idiot. He never knew knowing someone’s name would make everything so much better.
Yoongi just put a steaming mug of tea on Hoseok’s –Hoseok!- hands when the door swings open, startling them.
"You have no idea how cold is outside...Oh! Hello?”
“Hyung!”
Yoongi jumps to his feet like an excited bunny. His voice is high pitched and his gums are all out.
Seokjin smiles, a little taken off guard. His eyes are more questioning as he put the smoked fish and a small pot on the counter to welcome Yoongi in his arms.
"Hyung this is Hoseok!”
Yoongi announces.
My new friend. He was out there naked. You have no idea!...did you see the hair? I brought him home!
Seokjin smiles at Hoseok politely.
"Hello Hoseok.”
Hoseok shifts where he sits uneasily and glances at Seokjin, and then Yoongi. Yoongi feels bad for him. It’s probably too much meeting new people repeatedly. Seokjin tilts his head at Yoongi with a meaningful smile.
“He is mute.” Yoongi provides.
"We just got home. Where have you been?”
" Taehyung said he had fish and cheese for me. I didn’t know it was so cold though. How did you two meet?”
What made you bring him home?
Yoongi got the question that flew to him in form of some telepathic wave.
"In the woods. Not exactly in the woods. In the clearing between the woods and um...he was....kinda lost.”
"Really?”
Seokjin frowns.
“You are a new face. Were you traveling? The blizzard caught you off guard?”
Hoseok looks at them with wide eyes. Seokjin is ruining whatever delicate air Yoongi tried to build around them. Yeah. Because he doesn’t know the rest of the story. And Yoongi is kinda thinking about not telling him. He would freak out and then freak Hoseok out.
“Hyung I haven’t asked him the details yet.”
Seokjin raises his brows at him. And his eyes widen for a slight second in a gentle glare. Yoongi pouts. He takes seokjin’s hand and pulls him toward the bedroom.
"Yeah. I was worried. I just couldn’t leave him there. It was cold we were cold. Come change to comfy clothes?”
He flashes a smile at Hoseok who is already facing the fire, gripping the mug tightly.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t be weird about it.”
They both start talking as soon as the door closes. Seokjin’s jaw drops.
“Weird about it? I just found a stranger in my home!”
“I brought him home. It’s not like he barged in!”
Yoongi pouts. Seokjin holds up his hands toward the door.
“And you don’t know his backstory.”
“Because he couldn’t tell me.”
Yoongi sighs.
“Please hyung. Don’t be weird. He…he is…he kinda looks hurt? I don’t know...”
“Hurt how?” Seokjin says.
“What exactly happened? What were you doing in the woods? Yoongi…”
“I went for a walk.” Yoongi deadpans.
“I know. It was stupid. It’s not in the middle of summer. I know. But I did. And I found Hoseok. He needed help. Literally.”
Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Okay. Fine. What are we doing now?”
“Help him?” Yoongi raises his brows.
“At least he can stay the night.”
Seokjin sighs.
“Yeah. I know. I have a weird feeling though.”
Yoongi moves closer and looks up.
“It’s because you haven’t met anyone new in ages. You’re just flustered. He is so lovely, you’ll like him.”
“You just met him.”
Seokjin chuckles as he tucks a hair behind Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi shrugs.
“I like him already.”
“Of course you do.”
Seokjin says pointedly. Yoongi whines and throws himself at him.
“Hyung. Please. Just be nice I don’t want to spook him.”
“Baby I’m not a caveman. I know basic hospitality.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes.
“His hair is very unusual. Are you sure he isn’t a fairy prince?”
“Oh my god hyung. Don’t tell him that.”
Yoongi pushes Seokjin away with an eye roll. What an insufferable boyfriend person he is in love with.
“Why? It’s a cute compliment.”
Seokjin grins as he follows Yoongi out. Yoongi shakes his head.
“You are weird.”
“You love me.”
“I wish I didn’t.”
Yoongi stops in his tracks and Seokjin almost bumps in to him. Hoseok is curled up by the fire, wrapped half in blankets and Yoongi’s scarf against his chest. The tea cup is half empty, lying beside him on the ground. His cheeks are rosy and warm by the heat and he breathes soft and steady.
Yoongi puts a firm finger on his lips.
“Don’t you dare wake him up.”
“I didn’t…”
“shhh.”
Fire cracks in the hearth. Outside, the wind begins, throwing snow against the windows. But Hoseok sleeps soundly, peaceful. Unaware of it, or the grey clouds that cover the sun again stubbornly. Or the couple having a silent argument over giving him the big fluffy blanket on the bed or the plush comfy pillow that’s seokjin’s favourite. Or Seokjin putting an additional portion of salted meat aside and Yoongi bringing an extra plate out of the orange cabinet.