Taehyung struggled against the sheets, his brow crinkled, lost in sleep, twisting in the linen as the pictures swirled through his mind like dry ice. The material around him felt heavy, woolen, knitted, like a jumper too small for his frame, scratching his skin, trying to find the head hole to gasp for a breath of air. His lungs were burning, his head ached, his bones felt stiff. He had to get out, he had to breathe, he had to stop the burning inside of him, he had to, had to, had to.

Then, a glass vase of lilies on a table, leaning ever so slightly over the edge, tempting fate. Taehyung felt a swoop in his chest, reaching out to stop them tipping, the rim of the vase slipping through his fingertips as it careened towards the floor. He felt powerless to stop it, no, no, no, no, as the glass shattered, water seeping past the sharp splinters as the lilies withered and died against the hardwood floor.

With his back aching, and a high whimper, Taehyung sat bolt upright in bed and opened his eyes wide. The sheet clung to his skin, moist with sweat as his chest heaved, hot and cold all at the same time, upside-down and somehow still turning, breathless and yet needing to exhale. He thought he could detect a faint smell of fire that disappeared from his senses as quick as blowing out a match, breath on a candle, a fizzled spark. Nausea rolled over him in waves as he tried to steady his breathing, clutching his chest, focusing on the crack in the curtain that splintered the dark.

Next to him, Seokjin stirred, groggy with sleep. He sat up and grabbed Taehyung's shoulder. "What's the matter?" he asked, his voice thick, looking at Taehyung, who jolted under Seokjin's touch. The shocks still coursed through his veins, as his heartbeat thudded in his ears, but after a few seconds, as his breathing returned to normal, he relaxed in his hyung's grip. Their eyes met through the dim light of the bedroom, Seokjin slowly growing more awake.

Gulping, and trying to speak, Taehyung bent his head, accepting a kiss from Seokjin on his forehead, not caring the way that his curls matted to his clammy skin.

"You're back," said Taehyung after a moment, and leaned further towards Seokjin, searching for comfort.

"How long was I gone?" Seokjin asked, snaking an arm around Taehyung's shoulders, bringing him into his embrace.

The younger nuzzled his face into the crook of Seokjin's neck, his pursed lips against his hyung's jugular. "Not long," he breathed, inhaling the elder's scent. "Where have you come from?" he asked after a few seconds. He could feel himself coming back to reality in Seokjin's arms.

"Did you have a bad dream again?" Seokjin asked, without answering him, massaging Taehyung's nape, his breath hot on his ear.

Taehyung didn't reply. He didn't need to.

"It's okay," Seokjin whispered, dipping his head to Taehyung's cheek, and kissing it lightly. "I'm here," he cooed, letting the tickle of his breath soothe his dongsang.

Taehyung eventually extracted himself from Seokjin's neck, coming to look at his hyung. He palmed the elder's shoulders, running his hands up to the curve of Seokjin's neck and back again. "Where were you?" Taehyung asked again, searching his face.

Seokjin shook the hair from his eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Tae –,"

"Hyung, tell me," insisted Taehyung, his hands sliding down to Seokjin's chest, hard and firm under his touch, grounding.

The elder composed himself for a minute, cocking his head and licking his lips, his free hand coming to rub Taehyung's thigh over the sheet.

"I died," Seokjin told him.

Taehyung looked down at his hands and then back at Seokjin's face. "Was it me –?"

"No," Seokjin said immediately, roughly cupping Taehyung's cheeks. "No. It was the fire –,"

"Don't lie to me –,"

"I'm not," insisted Seokjin, grabbing at Taehyung's wrists, the younger pushing against his grip. "I'm not lying. I died trying to save Yoongi from the motel but I'm okay. I came back. I always come back," he said softly, coming to cup Taehyung's cheeks again and kissing him ardently.

They broke apart, the gentle parting of their lips smacking through the silence. Taehyung gulped, his forehead pressed against Seokjin's. He's here, Taehyung thought. He's here and he's back and he's real and he's here, he said to himself, over and over again in his head, like a mantra. "Jungkook's boot is off," Taehyung whispered. "Namjoon got him and Yoongi an old double bed, second hand. We moved it in yesterday."

"Okay," Seokjin nodded, nuzzling Taehyung's cheek, then his jaw.

"He's doing well. So is Yoongi. He plays piano more now," Taehyung went on. "I got him some sheet music for his birthday."

Seokjin moved down to his neck, a gentle brush of his lips against the soft skin. "Okay."

"Jimin and Hoseok are at the loft. I'm trying to convince them to move in," he smiled. "Jimin is trying a new medication this week."

"Okay."

Taehyung's breath hitched in his throat. "And I'm going to graduate."

Seokjin pulled back and looked into Taehyung's eyes. "You said I wasn't gone long," he said.

"You weren't," replied Taehyung. "I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you," he smiled.

Seokjin smiled too, planting a kiss on Taehyung's mouth. "And then what?" he asked, rubbing the tips of their noses together.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one asking you that question?" smirked Taehyung, sitting back slightly to regard him, clasping his hands at the back of Seokjin's neck.

"I can't read your mind. Although, I'm sure that would be fun," Seokjin smiled, leaning in for another kiss. Taehyung pushed them back against the mattress, arms wrapped around each other, knees knocking together, ankles locked, Seokjin running the arch of his foot along Taehyung's shin. "What are you thinking now?" he asked into Taehyung's mouth, the pad of his thumb against the younger's chin.

"Hold me," Taehyung replied, dipping his head to nuzzle against Seokjin's neck.

The elder tightened his grip around him. "Okay," he whispered into the silence, a contented sigh dancing on his breath as Seokjin slowly drifted back off to sleep.

Outside, the birds cooed to each other from nearby branches. Taehyung imagined them hopping to and from, taking flight, swirling, and swooping through the air. The edges of the sun began to rise, creeping over the horizon, the rays shining across the ground, lighting the way as morning came.

The curtains twitched in the gentle breeze from the crack in the open window, as Taehyung smiled against Seokjin's skin. He was everywhere and nowhere all at once, rushing through time and pausing it, like here and now. He was holding time, he thought, as he looked at Seokjin's sleeping form, the way his lips pouted in sleep, the way his hair stood on end, the way his chest rose and fell with a gentle breath. Yes, Taehyung thought that perhaps, indeed, he was holding time in his very own hands.