Bargain (Not Met) (JungHope)

Interlude - Grief

God, in His final act of mercy, pardoned Taehyung from suffering through yet another demonic deal. He did not send Taehyung into purgatory as one might presume because Taehyung hadn't yet committed the ultimate sin: becoming a demon.

God, in His final act of mercy, allowed Taehyung the dreamless sleep of death. A void where no one can return from nor desired to escape. Truly a just end to a weary mind that lived through seven thousand years.

However, no matter the reasoning, despite the undeniable peace Taehyung would gain from death's embrace, gazing at Yoongi's weeping form, Hoseok could never see this decision as anything but sorrowful.

--

"How's he doing?" Hoseok asked when he heard Jungkook shuffle down the hallway.

Jungkook's grim stare glowing in the archway's shadow said it all.

"What should we do?" Hoseok asked glumly.

Jungkook stepped out from the hallway and looked toward the apartment's front door. "We should probably go to my place," he said. "I don't think it would be a good idea to...stick around."

Hoseok nodded and followed after Jungkook. Slipping on their shoes, gently closing the door behind themselves, they exited Yoongi's apartment. Hoseok gave one final glance up to Yoongi's apartment door before scuffling away upon Jungkook's beckoning.

The walk was silent. Hoseok didn't find it stifling nor awkward, too wrapped up in his own head to notice Jungkook's quiet company. Because that was the thing, wasn't it? There was nothing to say, so why should they make needless chatter just to fill in the gaps of communication? To accompany the far-off bustling of demons and shadows alike, to slot their dynamics back into place.

Death was cruel. In its approach, in its dreadful departure.

"We're here," Jungkook muttered, startling Hoseok from his thoughts.

Hoseok looked toward Jungkook's home, expecting an apartment complex, not unlike Yoongi's, and was left in a stunned reverie at the house that stood before them.

"You own this?" Hoseok asked.

"Renting," Jungkook corrected. "I've got five roommates, and none of them are ever home because they're either wallowing in their own misery at the bar or out taking care of clients.

"Come on," Jungkook continued with a shuffling step. "Let's get you out of the cold."

Hoseok shuddered at the sudden acknowledgment of Hell's cold, goosebumps scattered along the exposed skin of his arms and probably hiding atop the sweat-slick muscles of his back. He followed after Jungkook, scuffling his shoes against the concrete platform before the front door as Jungkook fumbled with the lock, and released a breath of relief at the heated air that rushed out to greet him.

"Borrow whatever pair picks your fancy," Jungkook said as he kicked off his sneakers to make himself comfortable in a pair of slippers.

Hoseok took his offer and allowed his eyes to wander the, admittedly, bland space of Jungkook's home. It was reminiscent of his apartment, Hoseok noted as he gazed at the walls that sported no decorations, at the simple layout of the living room: a couch situated in front of a television. No coffee table, no personal or artistic photos, and not much color.

"Welcome to mi casa," Jungkook said as he spread his arms wide.

Hoseok rose a brow as he shuffled over to the couch before collapsing into its springy cushion. "You know Spanish?" he asked.

"My mom told me it would be better to learn other languages besides English." Jungkook joined Hoseok on the couch with a sigh. "I probably should've just gone with Japanese, honestly. I watched enough anime to memorize the basic phrases."

Hoseok didn't know how to take Jungkook's casual mentioning of his past life. He'd done so back in Yoongi's apartment, right before the...incident, but Hoseok hadn't really taken notice of if, for obvious reasons. But now that it was just the two of them, the elephant in the room not holding either one of their breaths, Hoseok could hear the nostalgia in Jungkook's voice. He could see the wistful look in his blood-red eyes, faraway and seemingly unaware of their current situation.

And maybe Hoseok wasn't...okay with Jungkook's nonchalant attitude. Maybe Hoseok wanted company that was more emotionally charged. Perhaps he had actually wanted to stay back and mourn with Yoongi. Because it was the least Taehyung deserved. After all that Hoseok had forcibly put him through, hadn't Taehyung earned himself a proper send-off?

"I've meant to say this," Jungkook said, startling Hoseok, yet again, from his thoughts, "but you're a loud thinker."

"Apologies," Hoseok deadpanned. Despite his calm response, his voice strained against the turmoil caught in his throat, his heart thudded against his chest. Maybe it was rage, with himself, with Jungkook, because this situation was both of their faults. Because Taehyung could have been left out of Hoseok's life if Hoseok hadn't made the selfish decision to delay the inevitable.

But there was always the underlying fear. Because that was the thing, wasn't it? Hoseok was terrified. Because his fate was to suffer from Hell's ruthless cold or become a demon himself. How could he possibly ask Yoongi to find a client to transport them now? The wounds were far too raw, much too fresh.

And Hoseok hated himself for that. How could he be worried about himself when Taehyung just died? How could he be thinking about himself when Yoongi was probably in a state of complete and utter self-loathing because he'd been the one to steal Taehyung's life?

"Hyung."

Hoseok hadn't realized he was crying until Jungkook's warm, warm palms were cupping his cheeks and thumbing away the sudden onslaught of tears.

"I hate this," Hoseok hissed, hiccupping as his breath drew short. With rage? With despair? "I hate this," he repeated. "Why can't I ever do something right? Why does everything I do end in tragedy?"

Jungkook crouched down in front of Hoseok, peered up at Hoseok with soft eyes. "This isn't your fault, hyung," he said soothingly, fingers splaying out and across Hoseok's cheeks, encasing his ears. "You couldn't have possibly known that it would've ended like this, so don't blame yourself."

"I dragged Taehyung-ah into this deal." Hoseok was heaving for breath, suddenly losing grip on the solid reality of it all. Taehyung was gone. Gone, gone, gone. "I forced him into a deal he had no right to be a part of. I-I killed—"

"Hyung."

Jungkook was suddenly crawling into his lap, leaning his forehead against his, pressing his hands to his chest—

"Breathe."

Warmth spread throughout his chest, and, suddenly, the seizing grip on his heart loosened and allowed him a deep, deep gulp of air.

"It's alright," Jungkook murmured, a gentle hand carding through Hoseok's hair as he continued to sputter and fight against the desperate need to sob. "It's okay, hyung. I've got you."

"No, no," Hoseok blubbered and moaned. "Taehyung-ah—he's—I—" He finally caved and wailed, voice screaming out into Jungkook's living room empty space. Echoing and haunting, but Hoseok couldn't keep it in anymore.

Gone. He was gone.

And that was the thing, wasn't it? This deal of theirs could only end in tragedy.

A/N - emo hours: open.