Chapter Text
“First things first,” Taehyung says as they exit the car onto the hustling, tourist-infested streets of Waikiki. “We need to change.”
“Change?” Seokjin plucks at his criminally form-fitting t-shirt in confusion, stumbling along as Taehyung grabs his hand and starts pulling him towards the bulk of the crowds. Without thinking about it, he laces their fingers together. At first, it had felt so unnatural for them to hold hands like this, but now Taehyung can’t imagine a time or a place where they wouldn’t.
He hopes, when they go back to Korea, that him and Seokjin will still hold hands like this. Even if it will just be as friends.
“If we’re going to be tourists, Jin-hyung, we have to look the part.” Taehyung pauses in the middle of one of the blocked off avenues, artists and musicians and dancers creating spaces for themselves amongst the crowds that mull from one tacky souvenir shop to the other. In one storefront, Taehyung spots the garish jumble of offensively bright colors he was looking for and exclaims in satisfaction. “Over here, come on.”
“Taehyung-ah, what—” And then Seokjin’s words disappear in a pop of laughter as Taehyung maneuvers them from the streets and into the crisp, air-conditioned confines of the shop. It’s full of horrendously touristy apparel, the kind that Taehyung hasn’t worn or even entertained the thought of wearing since he was under the age of fourteen—it was easy for the novelty of Hawaiian apparel to wear off quickly when he visited the islands as frequently as he has.
But now, as Seokjin strides forward towards the rack of assorted Hawaiian shirts like a kid in a candy store, Taehyung feels a warm wash of nostalgia and doesn’t even try to help the grin that creeps over his face.
“Please tell me you’re not kidding.” Seokjin’s eyes are practically sparkling with amusement, and Taehyung bounds up to him, wrapping his hands over Seokjin’s broad shoulders and grinning wildly.
“Nope. Want to pick them out for each other?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Taehyung thinks that the next time he’s in Waikiki, he’ll still hear the way Seokjin was stifling his laughter, holding up shirt after shirt in front of Taehyung before pushing a vibrant red one patterned with obnoxiously large white hibiscus blooms into his hands. It both matches and clashes horribly with the cerulean blue one Taehyung picks out for him in turn, splotched with what appears to be a mixture of pineapples and palm fronds.
They unanimously agree that, out of all the shirts they browsed through, they chose the most painfully cliché ones, and yet no one so much as bats an eye at them as they merge back into the crowd. If anything, they looked more out of place before.
“So is this what Hawaii is all about?” Seokjin asks with a grin, even as he turns his head around and around, taking in the colorful storefronts and the people who flock to them. Taehyung has been to dozens upon dozens of marketplaces in his life, has seen the torrents of people and the bright signs, been wowed by the street performers and lured by the scent of food. Waikiki isn’t his favorite, per se, but he can’t deny that it has a certain charm about it. The smell of the ocean mixed with sunscreen, the humid heat diffused between the shade of palm trees, the eclectic mix of neon signs with handwritten ones.
Taehyung watches Seokjin take it in, and has the sudden urge to show him all the marketplaces of the world.
“Shopping?”
“Shopping is a big part of being a tourist, you know,” Taehyung sniffs, and then Seokjin is tugging insistently on his wrist and pointing at a stand that appears to be selling ridiculously large floppy hats and novelty sunglasses. They pause to share a grin before they rush forward, momentarily bickering over a pair of pineapple sunglasses.
“You know, when you mentioned gifts, I imagined something a little more refined,” Seokjin jokes later, dangling a bright pink surfboard keychain from his thumb. It twists back and forth in the slight ocean breeze, flashing bold, black letters that spell out the name JIM.
“Are you saying you don’t think your puka shell necklace is refined?” Taehyung asks in mock astonishment, dragging another coconut shrimp through whatever dipping sauce they served with it. Taehyung hadn’t looked when he ordered it, and hasn’t bothered to ask—it’s delicious even if he doesn’t know what it is.
“Ah.” Seokjin reaches up to the white shells that sit against his neck like a choker, the plastic of the keychain clacking against them as he rolls his eyes. “How could I forget?”
The restaurant is bustling with lunch activity around them, the noise level just below what Taehyung usually considers intolerable. It has some things in common with the smaller, more intimate restaurant Namjoon had chosen for them the night before. The building has the same rustic, tropical appeal, and large straw umbrellas extend over the bamboo furniture. From their place on the patio, the beach is only a few footsteps away, giving them ample view of surfers heading out into the water and families spreading their towels in the sand.
It isn’t the sort of place Taehyung would ever choose to dine for himself, or even for a friend, and yet he can’t find it in himself to mind so much as he watches Seokjin sip a colorful, slushy cocktail with a little umbrella sticking out of it. His dark hair has grown sweaty, sticking up in the places where he brushed through it with his fingers, and his cheeks are flushed from the heat.
But he looks good somehow, still. Whatever is in the Hawaiian air seems to agree with him.
“So now that we’ve bought a horrendous amount of tacky souvenirs, what’s next?” Seokjin asks, leaning forward even as he speaks when Taehyung holds out another shrimp. He catches it easily between his teeth, immediately hiding his mouth behind a demurely raised hand, eyes closing with the simple pleasure of eating something delicious. “A walk on the beach?” He continues once he’s swallowed. “Surfing lessons? Swimming with sharks?”
“Are those things you want to do?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow as he sips his lemonade. “Usually you need to make reservations to swim with sharks, but I could probably pull some strings.” Taehyung is smiling even before the panic washes through Seokjin’s eyes, and he chuckles to himself. “I actually had something else planned, but I’ll definitely keep those things in mind for next time.”
“Next time?” Seokjin asks softly, and Taehyung blinks.
Why did he say next time?
“Uh.” Taehyung clears his throat, fiddling with one of the leftover shrimp tails. “Anyway, I wanted to take you to one of my favorite places on Oahu. It’s still a little touristy, but I think you’ll like it.”
Seokjin’s hand reaches across the table, clasping over Taehyung’s until he’s looking back up into Seokjin’s kind eyes.
There’s a bit of a sunburn sitting across his nose and the tips of his ears. His hair is a sticky, sweaty mess, and his lips are chapped and peeling. He’s wearing one of the ugliest shirts potentially on the planet paired with a pair of ridiculous yellow heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of his head.
And he is still the most beautiful person Taehyung has ever seen.
“I’m sure I will.”
*
It’s been years since Taehyung has last done this hike. Not long enough that he’s forgotten the oppressive heat and humidity of the surrounding rain forest, but long enough that he feels a little excited to be walking the worn path again. Even as his shirt sticks to his back with sweat, and his hair hangs damply in front of his eyes.
He’s excited.
“Do you do a lot of hiking?” Seokjin asks as they amble at a reasonable pace side-by-side. Taehyung has never been so thankful for the car he hired, even if it did take away from their authentic day as Waikiki tourists. He hadn’t really intended for them to buy so much stuff, and he knew their oversized hats and Hawaiian shirts would just make their trek through the rain forest all the more miserable. It was better that they could just leave them safely in the car, awaiting their eventual return.
“I suppose?” Taehyung’s mouth twists consideringly. “I’ve never really thought about it. I like taking walks, and I like being in nature.”
“Sounds like hiking,” Seokjin says, and Taehyung laughs lightly.
“I guess it does. But the places worth seeing in the world are never easy to get to, and I want to see them all.” Taehyung grins up at the verdant canopy that sprawls above them, long branches of trees resting one atop the other, bursts of blue and white and orange betraying a glimpse of a flower or a startled bird. The air is thicker beneath the trees, feels wetter in his lungs, but Taehyung lives for moments like these—places like these. He turns to say as much to Seokjin, surprised to see that Seokjin is already looking at him.
It’s that look again, the soft one, the affectionate one, the one that makes Taehyung want to bite his lip and hide his face. It’s the one that makes Seokjin look so impossibly in love that it couldn’t be anything but an act.
Except there’s no one around for him to wear it for. No one around for him to fool.
It’s just Seokjin and Taehyung.
Taehyung swallows, his mouth dry, and just in that moment, he hears it—the gentle rumbling of water. He grasps Seokjin’s hand in excitement, the weird swell of energy between them forgotten as he grins from ear-to-ear.
“We’re here.”
Even with the years that have passed, the moment Taehyung breaks from the tree line and into the rock laden cove still feels nostalgic. His eyes slip up the thin streams of water, weaker than they would be in the rainy season but still trickling prettily down the cliffside that faces them.
“A waterfall,” Seokjin murmurs, and Taehyung laces their fingers together. “This is your special place?”
“One of,” Taehyung clarifies, navigating his way along the moss-slickened gravel to get closer to the edge of the pool. “There are prettier waterfalls, and bigger ones—”
“Too special to share?” Seokjin teases, and Taehyung turns to look at him, blinking in surprise. There’s that tightness around his eyes again, the one that disappears before Taehyung ever has the chance to chase it.
“No,” Taehyung answers simply. “But island hopping usually takes time. I wish I could show you Rainbow Falls, on the Big Island, or the Waimoku Falls on Maui.” For the first time since this whole debacle started, Taehyung wishes that him and Seokjin had more time in Hawaii instead of less. “I know Manoa Falls is a quieter beauty, but—”
“It’s beautiful,” Seokjin insists, gripping Taehyung’s hand tightly. “Honestly, this whole place—the gardens, the forest, the rocks.” Seokjin shakes his head, and Taehyung can do nothing but watch him fondly, enamored with the soft awe painted across his features. “There aren’t words. I—” Seokjin’s mouth flounders silently before he coughs out a laugh, closing his eyes with a smile. “I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for this.”
“I don’t expect you to,” Taehyung says seriously. “I wanted to show you. I wish I had time to show you more.”
“Yeah?” Seokjin’s eyes crinkle, and Taehyung swallows. He wishes Seokjin would tell Taehyung to kiss him. “Oh!” Seokjin immediately slips from his grasp, climbing awkwardly up onto one of the boulders. Taehyung’s hand immediately darts out to steady him, settling against the supple curve of his hip as Seokjin finds his balance. “Taehyung-ah, there’s rainbows,” he says excitedly, pointing towards the spray of the waterfall. “Come, come see.” Seokjin flaps his hand impatiently, holding it out for Taehyung to take.
With a put-upon sigh, Taehyung carefully climbs up onto the rocks beside him, much more practiced at keeping his balance. He used to do this hike all the time on his own—would climb up onto the rocks and sit there for hours and hours, staring at the falls, at the mist, at the rainbows, like there was some sort of profound secret hidden there. Some answer that Taehyung has always been looking for.
Around them, pockets of tourists are tucked amidst the rocks—a group of friends all taking selfies independently, a set of lovers asking a stranger to snap their picture. Maybe Seokjin knows that this is the sort of place, the kind of memory, that can’t be captured in a photograph, because all he does is stand beside Taehyung, face peaceful as he simply exists within this specific pocket of time.
“You know,” Taehyung starts saying, his eyes trained on the way mist is clinging to strands of Seokjin’s hair. “I always wanted to bring a boyfriend to Hawaii.” Seokjin turns to look at him, surprise filtering through his awe. Taehyung can’t blame him—he hadn’t wanted to have this conversation at all last night, protected by the privacy of their hotel room and the soft linen sheets. Now he’s simply offering it up between them, fully exposed by the heated rays of the sun. “Even as I kept making excuses as to why I wouldn’t, a part of me always believed it would happen someday.”
A part of him still believes it.
“I imagined a day… A lot like this one, actually,” Taehyung muses, surprised at the revelation. “Maybe not so touristy, but—” He cracks a laugh, keeping his eyes on the falls even as he can feel the weight of Seokjin’s stare on his cheek. “Something simple. Something fun. We had fun today, didn’t we?” He doesn’t mean to sound so needy, so insecure.
“We did,” Seokjin says softly, and Taehyung’s answering smile feels fragile but real.
“And then, at the end, we’d come to this exact place. Maybe even this exact spot.” Taehyung takes a deep, wistful breath. It feels like he’s making a wish. “And we’d kiss.”
It sounds so stupid when he says it—silly and ridiculous and childish. He presses a hand over his face, honestly a little embarrassed that he even told Seokjin all of this. But there is no good-humored wheedling, no playful teasing. The sound of the falls presses in against their ears, filling the silence between them, until:
“Kiss me, then.”
Taehyung’s hand slips from his face as he turns to Seokjin in surprise. His gaze traces Taehyung’s features like a gentle caress. It’s exactly what Taehyung had wanted, only moments ago, except… Except…
“It’s not the same,” Taehyung mutters, still surprised that Seokjin had even mentioned it. “We aren’t—” He grits his teeth. “This isn’t real.” It almost hurts that Seokjin is saying this. That he’s taking this small, vulnerable kernel of Taehyung’s hopes and dreams and mocking them like this. It doesn’t matter how warm his eyes are, or how tenderly his fingers glide along Taehyung’s jaw.
It still stings.
“We can pretend,” Seokjin says, and Taehyung swallows thickly as Seokjin thumbs over his bottom lip. This isn’t—this isn’t right. This isn’t how they do things, how they’ve done things. The air between them feels heavy and charged, full of the kind of tension that Taehyung generally associates with passion and attraction and sexual intimacy—not the friendship they’ve accidentally been curating.
He can feel Seokjin’s breath against his skin and he jerks away, his head clouded and his heart pounding. An urge lingers there, one that curls his fingers into his palms, that has him licking his bottom lip, but he pulls against it, confused and disoriented.
“We should—we should get going.” Taehyung turns away, afraid of what he’ll see if he meets Seokjin’s eyes. Afraid of what it might lead him to do. “Or we’ll be late for dinner with my parents.”
He waits. For Seokjin to lift his chin, for Seokjin to demand answers, for Seokjin to confront what just passed between them.
For Seokjin to kiss him anyway.
But all Seokjin says is, “Sure.” All he does is hold on to Taehyung’s hand as he clambers down from the rock with a, “Let’s go.” His sudden momentum surprises Taehyung, making him stumble forward, slipping on moss and lurching forward—and right into Seokjin’s waiting arms. His skin ignites in every place they touch, and Taehyung gasps.
“You okay?”
Taehyung looks up at Seokjin, his eyebrows furrowed as his chest twists with confliction.
“Yeah,” Taehyung mutters, finding his feet, and it feels like his biggest lie yet.