a/n:
go look up/listen to Talking to the Moon by Kream
it's so freaking beautiful and the lyrics fit so well with the story so i had to share <3

*

He had meant what he said to Jungkook 100%. Every word of it. Including his claim to go to the airport every day, should no letter ever come.

There weren't any more letters. And Yoongi chose to be honest with himself; it did make him feel uneasy. But he also chose to be positive, to have faith in Jimin, because he genuinely did not know what he would do if Jimin never came back.

He had done a lot of thinking these past few days. And they had been excruciating.

Of course he had missed Jimin all those days he was away. But now it seemed to hit all at once. And he couldn't help but wonder if this were how Jimin had felt.

No, he couldn't adequately compare his situation to Jimin's. He wished he could, but at least he had tangible proof of Jimin being alive, and a confession to go with it. But Jimin had neither of those, no signs Yoongi was even around, no surefire hope his feelings would be returned.

Jimin had nothing but a plane ticket. So Yoongi swore he wouldn't let that go to waste.

Fortunately for him, Yoongi's work schedule was flexible, and so he requested off for the next week and swore he'd make it up afterwards. He didn't want to risk missing Jimin by only showing up when he didn't have work. He was determined.

Determined to be there. To just be there. To prove something to Jimin, in that moment. To show Jimin it wasn't all for nothing.

It wasn't an ideal atmosphere. For Yoongi, he discovered, airports discomforted him, from the noises, to the clusters of people, the disorder that appeared to be everywhere and had since been accepted as the norm. Yoongi hated being around too many people at once. And to just be sitting idly, yet anxiously at the same time... In some random waiting seat, the closest to where Jimin would probably arrive after getting off his plane. He had to stay attentive. He knew that was vital. Since Yoongi didn't hold the position as the tallest person at the airport, not at all, seeing past or over the bustling people was a struggle.

For Jimin. This was all for Jimin. Who, also, was not the tallest or most easily spotted in crowds. Yoongi could only hope his eyes would catch sight of him anyway.

No letters. Every morning he checked before taking a bus to the airport. No letters, yet he knew his mother had learned her lesson in hiding them. She had no reason to anymore.

No letters. What if he never gets mine?

Paranoia. With each time a plane landed from Incheon and Yoongi never saw him.

At one point a woman whose flight had apparently been canceled approached Yoongi, asking him if he were alright because she had noticed the boy on edge, sitting in one spot without moving for quite a while. And he assured her everything was alright - well, he tried to.

"When's the last time you've eaten?" She had asked him.

"Don't remember," he'd replied with uncertainty. "Maybe last night after I got home. If even then."

"It's almost eight p.m."

"Time flies sometimes, I guess..."

The woman had left him soon after that. Perhaps her flight was here or something, Yoongi thought briefly - truthfully his ears tuned out essentially everything that didn't include the city name Incheon. That was all that concerned him. Not his increasing hunger steadily making him feel sick, or the dizziness he didn't know whether had come from that hunger or his restless heart.

He couldn't last forever, though, and eventually lost consciousness.

He awoke to the smell of some kind of warm sandwich, and a cold patch sticking to his forehead.

His eyes sluggishly drank up the sight of that woman from earlier sitting beside him.

"I've been where you are before," she said, a nostalgic expression on her young-looking face. "They'll be here eventually, whoever they are."

It took a little bit to process her words, but soon Yoongi managed to sit himself upright and nod in gratitude.

"Here, I don't know how you feel about airport food, but you obviously need something in your system." The woman held out the sandwich on a paper towel to Yoongi, who accepted it with open appreciation.

"Thank you, I don't even know what to say, I-..."

He fought away a tear.

"Aw, there's no need to cry, love," she stifled a soft laugh. "Like I said, I've been where you are. Restless, waiting hours on end for someone, wondering if they would make it safely..."

Yoongi's heart fell. He turned his attention towards his hands, which now trembled as they held onto the food just given to him.

"Lighten up, love."

"I'm scared."

"That's okay."

"How common are plane crashes?"

"Now don't say things like that..."

Yoongi let out a deep, unsteady breath. "You're right, I shouldn't." He shook his head. "That wasn't even my biggest concern about all this, I don't even know at this point, I just-"

"Eat. Your hunger's probably making you think irrationally."

"No," Yoongi said, "I don't think that's it."

"Well, it's certainly not helping, now is it?"

She had a point. Yoongi knew that she did, so he temporarily pushed aside his doubts and started to eat his sandwich, which happened to be the best sandwich he had ever eaten - then again he acknowledged this was probably due to not having eaten in...a while.

"Are you an angel, Miss?"

The woman burst out laughing, her glasses almost slipping off her nose in the process but she caught them just in time.

Yoongi blushed in embarrassment.

"Not an angel, love, but that's very sweet of you to say." She chuckled again. "My heart just goes out to people like you, that's all. It's a rare and precious thing to have someone you love so much that you'd sacrifice all your time just to make sure you're there when they come home. You've been here for even longer than I think you have, I'm sure."

"That's probably true," Yoongi admitted. "I've...actually been coming here for a few days now. He told me he'd been coming home before March, but he didn't say when, and he hasn't written back yet, so I still don't know for sure."

"But you trust he meant what he said."

"I trust he meant what he said."

She smiled fondly at Yoongi. But he wasn't paying attention. He was too busy devouring the sandwich she had bought for him. "Is that gonna be enough to hold you off for a while?"

"I think so," he said, finishing off the last bite. "I think I'll...be alright."

"That's good. Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything. I owe you."

"Who are you waiting for?"

"My friend. He's been away too long."

"Where's he been?"

"Incheon," Yoongi said sadly. "Too far. If it were Cheongdo or something maybe he or I could have taken a train or bus at some point, but ya know...Incheon's just too far. He got taken so far away from me and neither of us had a say till now..."

The woman was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled a warm smile.

"What are you going to do when he gets here?"

When...when, not if...

"When he gets here-"

" [[ Flight 438 from Incheon is now arriving. ]] "

Everything else shut off. Incheon. That was the only sound Yoongi listened for in the announcements. And it was just as before - Yoongi didn't know if Jimin would be on this flight. But he stood up anyway and peered ahead, simply waiting for the moment he should start to see the passengers. It always took time. Too long. Too long. He just needed to know if Jimin were there.

"I wish you luck, love."

He almost didn't hear her. But just in time, Yoongi spun his head around and called mere seconds before the woman disappeared, "Thank you! Good luck to you, too!"

If he'd been less anxious perhaps he would have asked for her name.

The thought slipped out of his mind much too quickly anyway. He zeroed in his focus once again on the sole task of finding Jimin. Again, should he even be on this plane. If not, Yoongi would be back again tomorrow.

He was so tired. So sleep deprived, and yet sleep didn't even cross his mind once. Not now.

Yoongi's gaze swept this way and that, each new face he saw, passing from cluster to cluster, person to person, not wanting to miss a single one. Not daring to risk that, either.

Like every time before, he did the same.

Repetitiveness. An endless cycle.

No familiar face.

"Yoongiiiii!!!!"

But then his eyes found him.

And the cycle stopped.

From all the way across the room, he saw him. Standing still for no more than a moment before dropping whatever bags or suitcase he was carrying, then bolting for Yoongi like his life very much so depended on it.

And the sight that.

Just the sight of that.

Jimin running towards him, arms wide open like a child so desperately waiting to be held, tears streaming down his cheeks like they had been waiting to for so long. And they had. He had waited so long to cry to Yoongi.

Yoongi would have run towards him, too, but his legs had frozen up. Luckily, it didn't matter. Jimin made it to him all on his own. And their arms claimed each other.

The distance of 244 kilometers closed.

For the first time in 380 days.

Here.

Jimin, sobbing without restraint, clinging to Yoongi, hopelessness dissipating and being replaced by a relief never felt so strongly before, by either of the boys.

"It's okay, Jimin, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here, Jimin, it's okay, I'm here..."

It was all he could think to say. He hugged Jimin tighter, tears of his own pouring out because gosh it just felt so good to hold him again.

"Yoongi, I-" The boy could hardly talk. "-Yoongi, I, I have so much to tell you-"

"No, you've told me everything," Yoongi interrupted, pressing his hand against the back of Jimin's head. "I'm the one who has so much to tell you..."

And I'll tell you everything.