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It was always awfully quiet around 4am. It was after the partiers had gone to bed, but before the early birds had to get up for their next day at work, and the moor was damp under Namjoon's boots, sodden with dew, alcohol and whatever was vomited up by the partygoers. When he'd first started sneaking up and out, he'd almost contributed to the vomit, because of the pungent smell and the general disgusting nature of walking on slick mystery liquid. It had been fine to party, but deal with the aftermath? Never. But the years had aged him, it was easier to slip out across them, to where the fence barring freedom lies.
The fence was wide, expanding off into the horizon, curling around the city and the pretty apartments and the large, sterile trees. A beautiful cage, but a cage nonetheless, and as Namjoon drew close to the gate, the signs warning about electrocution only gave away the true meaning of all of these petty liberties. No happy or free society needed to forcibly fence their citizens in. But people were too drunk or too busy or too apathetic to care about how they were pressed in. When you had, or could have anything you needed inside the cage, why seek freedom?
To this day, Namjoon wasn't quite sure what had made him break his routine, made him turn into this nocturnal dreamer, made him a quiet rebel, waiting for the right moment to strike out and open the cage. To at least open the opportunity to leave if people wanted to, but the starting and probable ending of this would always be the flash of green hair in the woods, and a billion-watt smile that could pull Namjoon from any slump of any kind.
The thing that the government forgot, in its clever designs to make people want to stay in the cage, was that all things considered, there were easy fixes to jumping and climbing electrical fences, if you were prepared enough. It was easy for Namjoon to tug himself up and over, hands, knees and legs covered in insulating pads. Admittedly, it hadn't been so easy when he'd first started trying to climb over and temporarily leave a year ago, but anybody with enough planning and with good timing could just walk out if they needed to.
He wondered sometimes, whether it wasn't a trap, but he'd been going and leaving for this long, facing no punishment, so he assumed it was simply an oversight on the part of their government, a mark of arrogance.
He trotted out into the forest for a little while, disappearing into the redwoods and evergreens, rustling slightly in the wind, whispering little sweet nothings into the air, peaceful and eerie all at once, until he arrived in the little clearing that he and Taehyung met in, every single week, without fail. "Taehyung." he called into the woods, voice hoarse and a bit raspy, taking a seat on the little tree stump they liked, and stared up at the chunk of sky visible from here, the stars twinkling ad bright, giving him their blessing. It soothed him, as it always did, and Namjoon felt the tensions of the week, of hiding, of soothing his resentment daily, just stream away as if it was insignificant, if only for a few moments of quiet, as he waited.
It took a while, but finally, a head of green hair peeked through the forest, caught sight of Namjoon perched on their usual stump, and trotted forward, with the grace and enthusiasm of a small puppy. It was always hilariously endearing to watch a man with the ability to tear any living human being to shreds with his mind, act a little bit like a human teddybear. Unnerving at times, but adorable.
"Taehyung-ah." Namjoon murmured, reaching out his arms, and Taehyung instantly pulled Namjoon into a tight hug, burying his nose into Namjoon's neck. Usually the hug lasted a few seconds before Taehyung started to ramble about the events of the day and how he'd been and asked Namjoon a billion questions about the city and the book he'd been told to fetch, but this time, Taehyung pressed into him, unwilling to let go.
Namjoon tugged him away, gentle and soothing. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, feeling a little awkward, but reaching out to ruffle Taehyung's hair, nonetheless. It was kind of funny to watch the tension sag out of Taehyung altogether, as his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his eyes grew a little misty, but mostly just concerning, beause it was not normal for his usual encounters with the ethereal boy.
For weeks after their first meeting, Namjoon had always thought he'd been hallucinating. Taehyung was stunningly beautiful, and incredibly bright, and sleekly powerful, like a blessing in disguise, a saviour, an outlet and a hope all in one. It had seemed too good to be true, and yet it had been true. Taehyung was all that and more, and Namjoon was luckier and luckier with every moment he spent in his presence, but still. Taehyung was happy through most of their meetings, so this felt unnerving.
"Hyung." Taehyung asked, looking a little distressed, as he peered up, eyes imploring and slightly wet, "Hyung, if I could destroy everything, why aren't we tearing the walls down now? Destroying all of the government buildings? Stopping any of it from happening?"
Namjoon blinked, confused. It wasn't often Taehyung was anything except perfectly calm, because it was just not in his nature to be more than petulantly disappointed in events or melancholically saddened. And yet, here he was. "Taehyungie, I told you." Namjoon said, pulling them down, to lean back against the tree, slumped into each other, "People don't give enough of a shit. I gotta wait for the right time, when it starts to break, when people start to notice flaws. That's when we strike, give them an alternative. If we tore things down right now, they'd hate us, and then where would we be? No. They have to seek an alternative themselves."
"He who constantly tells others to wait for freedom is so privileged, that he does not understand that there will never be an ideal point to fight injustice except the present." Taehyung said, seriously, reaching forward to grasp Namjoon's hands. "Hyung, that was in the book you asked me to get you last week, so maybe you haven't gotten around to it yet. But. Hyung. I don't think we should wait anymore. They deserve it. They deserve freedom."
"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink." Namjoon said, turning his gaze up to the stars, glimmering and glittering. "That's a proverb, from one of the oldest books you managed to sneak me out. What does it matter if they deserve it or not, if they won't take it? If we free them, they won't see it as freedom; they'll think of it as us disturbing their peace. Terrorists not freedom fighters. The line is so fine, that perspective is the only thing that changes what we think and what we do. We can't. We'd be destroyed as soon as we free them. I want to live and try to aspire for a better form of society, not die pointlessly."
Taehyung threw himself backwards, onto the floor, hitting the forest floor with a thump, that made Namjoon sit up in concern. But Taehyung didn't even look injured, just dejected and angry and frustrated, all wound up and ready to cry, if the look in his eyes was any indication. "We have to do something to speed up their change in opinion at least. I can't wait for so long, hyung. I can't."
Namjoon frowned. "Taehyungie, what happened?" Sometimes, he wondered how hard it would be to sneak Taehyung back into the city with him, so he could hide Taehyung in his apartment, keep him close to his heart, hide him away from harm and the world and just make him smile all the time. But humans couldn't live like that, trapped and isolated and in the same space, and Taehyung especially, could never live like that. Taehyung was greenness and forests and hiking and climbing trees and leaping rivers, and the largest of eyesmiles at simple flowers. Namjoon would do him more harm that way, but yet. The urge to protect, even if Taehyung was stronger than Namjoon ever could be, would probably never leave Namjoon's bones
Taehyung pulled a face. "The Uglies of the Steppe. They were tracking what had happened to the other half of their band, and got to one of your innercity factories. It's fucking disgusting when slave labour is the least egregious of the things that were happening to them there, okay?" Taehyung said, reaching forward to tap Namjoon's chest. "Hyung, there's nobody old or ugly in your city. They gotta go somewhere. The more we delay, the more of them are being used, die, or worse."
Taehyung had a bleeding heart like no other person Namjoon had ever met, he felt for everybody, and anybody. Taehyung told Namjoon that he was the abnormal one in their scenario, and the more books Namjoon read, he was starting to feel that was the case, especially with how impassioned the heroes of the stories were. But still. It struck him as a little odd. "When will you let me meet those Uglies of yours?" asked Namjoon, gently.
"Hopefully never. If I can't manage that, as late as possible." Taehyung answered stubbornly, "Don't avoid the question, hyung, we gotta do something. Speed up the process. Like. Like. Flyers. Or sit-in protests. Or journalistic exposes or something. There's got to be something you can to make people look and examine themselves."
Namjoon twisted his hands and looked down, so he didn't have to meet Taehyung's disappointed eyes. "Taehyung, it's hard." he whispered. "It's too big, I don't even know where to begin. There isn't a single other person that can help me inside the city. My parents disappeared once Soyeon came of age, and Soyeon only cares about acid, fake nails and magic shrooms. All those stories of heroes, the government of my city, your Uglies--they're all groups. I'm just me."
Taehyung's eyes were wide and both understanding and unable to comprehend his words, "But hyung. You have me."
Namjoon laughed, low and bitter, and it was more dark than he'd meant to sound. "Taehyungie. You can't come into the city. They'd make you disappear as soon as they saw you. Or worse, try and make you like everybody inside there, you're pretty enough. Taehyungie, I....I want to start. Don't get me wrong, but it's huge."
Taehyung pressed up into Namjoon's side and buried his nose into Namjoon's neck. It was a little too cold to be there, but Taehyung's breath and presence in Namjoon's side was like a soothing balm, all things considered. "But Hyung, it'll always be big if you never start. You just. Have to pick a place, like 'okay this is cool' or 'I think this idea is the most exciting to do' and go with that. And if it doesn't work, just keep going. Like umm...that book I got for you last month! Coding! The computer goes down the 'if' clauses in order, one by one and eliminates, until it finds one that works, right? You gotta do the same."
When put like that, it sounded too easy, and made Namjoon feel a little bit like an idiot, and he just pressed his face into Taehyung's hair, not saying anything. Changing his routine? Instead of only coming here every week, to collect a few books and hold Taehyung close, to doing more around town in the freetime that most people used to get high or sleep, to just. hit at the harder workers in the adults who weren't considered too old yet. To traverse the too-clean streets, their prison that was too beautiful to leave and risk himself entirely?
Terrifying. But somehow less so when Taehyung stared up at him, nervous and anticipatory and wondering, youth and exuberance and strong determination and wisdom, all at once. "I'll make a plan." Namjoon said, softly. "I'll draw one up and bring it here next week and you can see what you think."
Taehyung grinned, wide and toothy, eyes crinkling into little crescent moons. "Good." And he leant forward, to press a kiss to the corner of Namjoon's mouth like it was nothing, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And Namjoon didn't want it to be anything but the most natural thing in the world, though, so he turned to press a kiss back into Taehyung's lips, with more purpose and force.
Taehyung smiled into the kiss, sort of ruining it, until they were both just grinning into each others' lips. "It's a plan." Taehyung murmured, and the grass around them rippled and quivered, with the same excitement that Taehyung felt.