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It usually helps. The alcohol. Drowns out some of the dullness Taehyung feels. In its stead, the buzz forms emotions like fleeting melancholy or an excited tug of his heart he usually ignores.
Today is not one of those days, though.
The numbness is still there as Taehyung presses his finger along the rim of the glass, thumbing over the chip of it and wondering how much pressure would make him bleed. He ought to tell the bar of the dangers of it, but Taehyung keeps his gaze on the drink instead.
It’s one of his rare days off, and instead of going back home to stare at an empty wall, Taehyung finds another way to occupy his night.
Laughter rings in his ears, loud and boisterous followed by a higher-pitched giggle, and Taehyung thinks he might recognise them as people who work at his precinct. His eyes don’t search for the voices though, drowns them out instead with another sip of his rum.
He had never particularly liked rum. The way it slithered down his throat like thick medicine, attempting to make its way back up like Taehyung’s body was undeserving of its rich flavour. Still, he drank it.
Out of habit, perhaps.
“Hello.”
Taehyung’s eyes stray from his glass, dragging along the expanse of the wooden table until meeting pale hands, knuckles pink and littered with tattoos.
Drawing further up, he makes out strong biceps. Dark hair curling around hooped ears. A mole beneath plush lips. Brown eyes, large and pretty as they watch Taehyung.
The boy doesn’t seem deterred by the lack of response, downing a gulp of his beer instead before taking the seat next to Taehyung’s.
Taehyung watches the way the liquid drains down the boy’s throat. How a droplet hangs from his lower lip before a pink tongue darts out to catch it, leaving the plush skin shimmering in its wake.
“How are you?”
The boy doesn’t actually seem to care about the response Taehyung would grant him, a withdrawn look in his eyes, yet curious in a way which should make Taehyung squirm. He sits still.
“How old are you?” Taehyung counters instead.
His eyes fall to the way the boy's back is arched off the seat, shirt riding up and revealing black fishnets hiding underneath ripped jeans.
A touch of amusement curls along the corners of the boy’s pretty mouth, stretching wide with something which could almost be considered sincere. “Old enough.”
Taehyung huffs. Believes for a moment that perhaps the rum had worked after all. He doesn’t find himself attempting to drown the boy’s voice out like he has done to everyone else at the bar. “Are you?”
The boy licks his lips. Leans back again, eyes raking over Taehyung’s figure as he takes another sip of his drink. “I’m twenty-two.”
“Barely old enough, then,” Taehyung comments, dragging his gaze away from the brown eyes which started to become a bit too inviting.
There is something mischievous dancing in the boy’s eyes, dark and mirthful, like an inside joke Taehyung can’t quite catch onto. “I know what I’m doing.”
Taehyung brings his hand up to the glass, once more fingering along the sharp edge of the drink. The boy watches him, gaze set on the jagged curve but he stays silent. Observant.
“No one knows what they’re doing at twenty-two,” Taehyung eventually responds, barely flinching as he sees a drop of red fall down the side of the glass.
The boy silently hands him a napkin. Taehyung presses it against his thumb.
A couple walks past them, bumping into the boy’s chair before profusely apologising. The boy waves them away without even sparing a glance.
“No one seems to know what they’re doing in their early thirties, either.” His voice is soothing, almost. Taehyung finds himself leaning in unwillingly. Just to hear the boy speak again, closer this time, like he could somehow absorb the soundwaves and tuck them behind the crook of his ear to replay later when he’s alone.
Taehyung’s eyes flick to him. There’s a small pause, both of them searching for something but neither finding what they’re looking for. Or, perhaps, they did. “What do you want?”
“Tonight? You.”
The simplicity of it all has Taehyung caving before he even thought of putting up a fight. “Okay.”
**
The motel is bland in comparison to the boy who stands in front of him. Taehyung has barely glanced at the color of the sheets, his eyes much rather drawn to the curve of the boy’s neck as he tilts his head to allow Taehyung access.
Taehyung enters his space, two pairs of feet moving along the floor until a back hits the wall. The boy seems to like it, the rough handling. The way Taehyung pulls at his dark locks, tilting his head back so that Taehyung can press his mouth against the underside of his jaw. He wonders if his lip might split if he presses any harder.
“Turn around for me.”
The boy is complacent in his arms, twisting his body around so that his chest presses against the cold wall of the unfamiliar motel room. He doesn’t complain, lets out a low moan instead as Taehyung pushes his crotch against the boy’s body, sliding his slowly hardening cock against the stretched material of his jeans.
Taehyung thumbs along the dips in the boy’s back, pulling on the fishnets and letting them snap back into place. He bites at the boy’s neck, faint taste of cologne lacing his tongue as he nips up to mouth at the hoops in his ears.
“Everything good?”
The boy hums in response, arches his back even further in invitation. “Will you have me on the bed or right here?”
Taehyung grunts, pulling the boy by his waist until his chest no longer presses against the cold surface but instead against Taehyung’s own body, warm and sturdy. He almost sinks into the feeling of the boy’s lips against his, smooth and velvety and pliant and everything good in the world.
Soon, Taehyung guides him onto the bed, half his face buried in the plushness of two pillows. The sheets are white as snow, pretty as a swan’s feathers but Taehyung prefers the pink he sees in the crook of the boy’s elbow. The splash of rose petals in his knuckles as he grips the sheets between bony fingers as Taehyung leans in and kisses one of the boy’s thighs. Tan fingers smooth along the pale skin of the boy’s back. Taehyung marvels at the contrast between the two. Like porcelain, he almost hesitates to touch.
But the boy lets out a sound, reminding Taehyung that he wasn’t a doll afterall, even as his large eyes and plush, pink lips come into view as he turns his head to look back at Taehyung. Brown tendrils of hair fall in front of his eyes, and Taehyung can focus again as he squeezes the younger's waist, pulling him closer.
Taehyung takes him from behind. Voices he usually drowns out he now drowns in, thrusting harder just to elicit higher-pitched moans that make his ears warm and stomach burn.
The boy is pretty from where Taehyung sees him. From the front too, he is beautiful—but currently Taehyung can see the thinness of his waist, the strong curve of muscles in his back and thighs prominent as they flex and shake when Taehyung pushes deeper.
The art which hangs in the room falls into a bleak backdrop in comparison to the piece in front of him. No artist could ever capture the way the boy’s lashes flutter shut like warding off small particles of dust. How his brows curve in pleasure as Taehyung manages to make him shudder.
He can feel sweat beading at the nape of his neck, salt staining his skin like the waves in an ocean and Taehyung feels himself drowning once more, complying with the wanton harder he barely catches, flitting past the boy’s lips.
He truly is beautiful. Crafted by the gods since no other should have such raw talent, tattoos wind up his arms to tell a story Taehyung is not privileged enough to know. He seems comfortable in his own skin, presenting his body proudly and keeping it angled in a way he must know is attractive. Taehyung bites his lip as he feels pressure beginning to build in his stomach, chasing after his own pleasure since it seems the boy is satisfied with any pace.
His fingers tighten around the younger’s waist, allowing for more powerful thrusts as Taehyung tilts his head back, letting loud groans free from the pits of his chest.
The boy whines once more, twisting his hand and holding it around Taehyung’s wrist before Taehyung realises what he wants. One hand still grasps at his waist while the other curls around the boy’s cock, stroking it. Taehyung’s head buzzes with the moan he lets out, breathy little whines which seem to rush through his whole body fill Taehyung’s ears with cotton.
“M’coming.”
“Same,” Taehyung gasps, eyes closing in pleasure as he releases into the condom. The boy’s body turns limp at the same time, the only thing still keeping him upright being Taehyung’s hand around his waist.
Taehyung’s hold loosens and the boy falls to the bed, spent.
Taehyung joins him, permed hair spreading around the sheets while the boy preoccupies the pillows.
“You have a name?”
He hears a soft breath of air filter through the room, dazed and tired. It reminds him of spring. “Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk turns around on the bed, studying Taehyung’s face for a moment. Taehyung lets him, doesn’t comment when soft fingertips flit across his ribcage, like molten embers pressing against his skin.
It’s not long until Jeongguk turns back around, helping himself and walking over to the bathroom to clean himself up. He leaves the door open. Taehyung can’t help but watch the way the towel drags over his muscular stomach, wiping the sides of his waist until the dirty cloth gets discarded by the tiles on the floor.
The boy is almost fully dressed when Taehyung speaks. “You should have some water before you leave. I’ll get it for you.”
**
Papers stack up on Taehyung’s desk. He’s not sure if there’s ever an end to them, a continuous stream of new cases left unsolved which stare at him dauntinly from the corner of the table where Taehyung has attempted to hide them for his own sanity.
He used to be good at his job, since luck and raw talent seem to be synonymous in an occupation like this. Back when he was fresh out of the police academy he managed to solve cases weekly. But as the years began to seam together and Taehyung felt as his energy began to diminish, somehow also had his lucky streaks.
Life was already draining him. On top of that, all of his recent cases were just about unsolvable. The lines which creased his forehead was evidence of that—the pressure points on his temples slowly becoming numb from how much Taehyung had been rubbing them.
“Go for a walk, man.”
Taehyung’s eyes rove over to the desk opposite him where Namjoon sits.
“Take my patrol shift tonight and I’ll take yours tomorrow, yeah? You look like you’re about to put a bullet through your brain.”
“That obvious?” Taehyung responds wryly, taking the glasses off his head and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, hyung. My patrol shifts on Thursday, though.”
Namjoon glances at him. “Tomorrow is Thursday.”
Taehyung blinks once, eyes falling down to his computer screen where in the bottom right corner a small Wed 19.48 blinks back at him. “Oh.”
“Well then,” he continues. “I hope the fresh air clears my mind.”
“I hope so too,” Namjoon tells him, the look in his eyes bordering suspicion but the worry there is evident. “Maybe get laid too. Relax. How long’s it been?”
Taehyung sniffs, collecting his badge from the desk before standing up, stretching out his limbs. “Couple months. I’m good for now.”
“Whatever you say,” Namjoon sighs, turning back to his computer and tapping away.
Taehyung watches him work for a few more moments. His face is illuminated by the screen, flickers of white and blue highlighting his strong cheekbones and narrowed eyes, reflecting off his glasses. Namjoon’s been there for a few years longer than Taehyung has, and he wonders if the job has turned just as mundane for him. The paperwork is excessive, the unsolved cases feel like knife wounds on your morale, and the pay, honestly, isn’t amazing.
The air outside helps, though.
Crisp autumn wind breezes against Taehyung’s cheeks. Nothing in his appearance gives away his occupation, all identifiers hidden in the pockets of his black, woolen coat.
Sometimes their patrols are more official with Taehyung in full gear, especially if they hear about any activity, but usually when Taehyung is in plain clothing and no one suspects him of being undercover, he ends up busting a lot more criminal acts.
It’s dark outside, the sun setting for the day and the cold moon chasing after it in an endless cycle, replacing its shine with a beauty of its own. Taehyung walks along the dim, yellow-lighted streets, puffs of grey parting past his lips with each breath he releases.
There’s a corner he wants to check out. Tips have come streaming in, but each time a police car drives by, the small crowd which had been lingering around the area disperse.
Taehyung makes his way over to the area, walking down the faintly lit streets. Newspapers on the side of the road rustle in the cold wind. The air prickles Taehyung’s cheeks. A few cars crawl past, people peering at Taehyung and his polished Oxfords through tinted windows.
His shoes clack against the cobblestone street as he approaches, warning any person of his arrival but the figure he sees in the distance doesn’t budge. Taehyung makes out their silhouette. Tall, lean, shoulder pressing against the lamppost and smoke coming past lips as they take another drag of their cigarette.
The warm light from the lamppost above makes their face shine with warmth as they tilt their head to see Taehyung approaching.
Taehyung almost pauses in recognition, but he keeps walking up until there is only a few meters separating the two of them.
The boy has brown eye-shadow decorating his lids, a shimmer to his lips. His hair curls prettily around his cheeks. There’s a jacket around his shoulders, but Taehyung can see the black crop-top underneath, revealing his muscular stomach.
Taehyung thinks he looks ethereal. Usually, faces blend together and bleed into grey but this one stays in his view like a personal spotlight. Like the sun didn’t set after all, lending a bit of its shine to someone deserving.
Taehyung wants to move closer. Wants to see if his skin is as warm as he remembers it to be. Or perhaps it is cold like the moon, frozen and beautiful, enrapturing anything in its wake.
Jeongguk seems to recognise him too, if the lazy flick in the corner of his lips is anything to go by. His mouth shines with gloss and spit as he takes another drag, looking Taehyung up and down.
“I know you,” the boy eventually says. He doesn’t wait for Taehyung to respond, flicking the butt of the cigarette to the ground and grinding it with the heel of his combat boot. “Had it been that good?”
Jeongguk looks off into the distance, watching a car which drives by, slowing down before speeding past once it notices two figures instead of just one.
Taehyung watches it drive off. He turns back to see the irritated tick in the boy’s jaw which Jeongguk quickly hides when he notices the eyes on him.
Taehyung wonders if he should feel betrayed. Lied to. Oddly, surprise never reaches him.
He takes a few moments to contemplate, long enough that the boy pulls out another cigarette. “Jeongguk, was it?”
The flame from Jeongguk’s lighter makes his brown eyes shine in a way Taehyung had never seen before. Like a constellation from high above had appeared in his eyes, beautiful and unreachable. “Flattered you remember.”
The clink of metal has Jeongguk tilting his head, his eyes widening in almost boyish naivety before they turn reserved. A disbelieving scoff melds in with the honk of a car a few streets down. “You’re a cop.” He tongues his cheek in annoyance, flicking the unused cigarette to the ground.
“Turn around.”
Jeongguk speaks in defiance. “Heard those words before in a bit of a different setting.”
Taehyung arches a brow as Jeongguk stays put, arms folded over his chest. The handcuffs hang loose in Taehyung’s embrace as he takes a step closer in warning.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Jeongguk says. “Can’t I stand on a street anymore?”
Taehyung’s words aren’t accusatory. There is no reason for them to be, as there is no doubt in his mind. “Pretty obvious to me what you’re standing here for.”
Jeongguk lets out a breath. It's his turn to take a step closer. His eyes narrow, nose flushed pink from the cold weather and Taehyung blocks out the fondness which washes through him. His lips are rosy, pretty and deceitful. “I don’t think you know anything.”
“I know you’re under arrest.”
Taehyung’s hands slide down Jeongguk’s arms until they reach the boy’s wrists, tugging them upwards.
“Can I know your name?” Jeongguk murmurs. It feels like minutes pass but Taehyung does not count them. Warm skin still presses against his own, contrasting the twinging cold which surrounds them. Jeongguk’s eyes do not stray from his.
Taehyung matches his gaze. They breathe the same air. Taehyung can see it in the way Jeongguk inhales the same particles of grey which had flitted out of his own mouth. He can feel it in the way his own mingles with Jeongguk’s cigarette-stained one with each inhale, recognising the brand without seeing the package.
“It’s Taehyung.”
“Taehyung,” Jeongguk repeats. He doesn’t resist, but his voice quivers like an auburn leaf in the wind. “Please.”
Taehyung stares.
“Please.”
Taehyung’s gaze is hard, but he feels an unwilling piece chip free from his heart. “You didn’t ask me for money.”
Jeongguk understands what he’s talking about. “I wasn’t working then,” he says earnestly.
“Why?” Taehyung asks before he can stop himself.
Jeongguk only shrugs in response.
Another car drives past, but Jeongguk doesn’t search through the tinted window for anyone. His gaze holds Taehyung’s, eyes wide and pretty and more honest than Taehyung thinks they’ve ever been before.
“Because I wanted to,” Jeongguk eventually says. “You drew me in, I don’t know. I wanted to feel good for a night. To feel wanted without getting paid for it. Doesn’t matter, anyway.”
The weight of the handcuffs are still firm in Taehyung’s grip, but he finds his arms withdrawing from Jeongguk’s. His brain desperately tells him to move back in, to do his job but Taehyung doesn’t question how easy it is to shut out the thoughts.
“This is a dangerous job.”
“So is yours,” Jeongguk counters. His eyes flick down to Taehyung’s lips, own mouth parting and tongue darting out to wet the skin. “You don’t seem too fond of it, either.”
“What do you think you know?” Taehyung whispers, allowing the tattooed hand to slither up his chest. Jeongguk’s thumb strokes along Taehyung’s jaw, and Taehyung hates how he finds himself leaning into the touch. With a lack of response, Taehyung speaks again. “It’s late. You should go.”
Jeongguk leans in.
Taehyung’s breath hitches, sudden as a strike of lightning.
A soft kiss is placed onto his cheekbone before the warmth of another body leaves. Taehyung reaches after it like chasing a sunset. Jeongguk twists around, heading past the lamppost towards a darkened alley.
Before fully disappearing, Jeongguk turns back to give Taehyung a look, boyish and mirthful. Taehyung can see the relief still swimming in his eyes. “Told you I knew what I was doing.”
“Go home, Jeongguk. Don’t come back here again.”
**
“There’s been a huge bust.”
“Where?”
“Insu-dong”
Taehyung looks up at Namjoon.
“Wanna ride together?”
Taehyung shakes his head, standing up, hands searching around to collect his badge and gun. Namjoon doesn’t mention how swiftly Taehyung seems to be moving. “Let’s go separately,” Taehyung tells him. “Just in case— there are many who need to be arrested. Won’t all fit and calling for even more backup might be a hassle.”
“Sure,” Namjoon says, peering at Taehyung curiously but he accepts the explanation.
Taehyung drapes the neon green police vest over his shoulders, car keys digging into his thigh before he fishes them out, twirling them around one finger as he follows Namjoon out of the building.
“Jimin’s already on the scene.”
Taehyung hums, his mind reeling back to large, brown eyes and a boy who he hopes had taken Taehyung’s advice and never came back to the corner.
The drive there is shorter than expected. Taehyung thinks maybe his mind was just elsewhere. But he gets pulled back to reality as he sees the glint of handcuffs reflecting off the headlights of his patrol car.
The sound is loud as Taehyung slams the door shut, alerting Jimin of his and Namjoon’s arrival. Namjoon parks further back, taking a moment to reach them but Taehyung’s eyes are already on the figure whose chest presses against Jimin’s police car, arms behind his back.
“Park. I’ll take this one.”
Jimin blinks at Taehyung before he nods, pulling Jeongguk up by his shoulder and lightly pushing him towards Taehyung. Jimin is nonchalant as he speaks, already searching for who to interrogate next. “He hasn’t spoken yet.” Jimin hands over the keys to Jeongguk’s handcuffs before turning his back, fishing for more info from a girl who wasn’t quick enough to dip away from the scene before the patrol cars arrived.
Taehyung’s eyes are narrowed as he searches Jeongguk’s face.
Jeongguk stares back, his gaze hard. There’s a slight wideness to his eyes which reveal his true state, but his shoulders keep on relaxing the closer Taehyung gets to him.
Like to him, seeing Taehyung was comforting.
To him, Taehyung meant safety.
Taehyung doesn’t speak as he opens the door to the backseat of the police car. Jeongguk watches him for another moment before he steps in, head ducking down before he fully disappears behind tinted glass.
The door slams closed behind him. Taehyung takes a steadying breath before stepping into the car. He stares at the scene in front of him, a handful of others getting questioned and handcuffed by Namjoon, Jimin and a few other officers arriving at the scene. Wonders what would have happened to Jeongguk if Taehyung had arrived minutes later.
Red and blue dance off Jeongguk’s face as Taehyung twists around to look at the boy.
“Taehyung,” Jeongguk breathes out in one gust of air. As if he had purposely been keeping quiet before this, the name trapped between the seal of his lips like he knew it was the only one he’d be able to muster.
“What are you doing, Jeongguk?” Taehyung murmurs.
Jeongguk ducks his head down.
Taehyung sighs, twisting back around. One hand grips the steering wheel while the other twists the key to start the engine. He can hear Jeongguk take a breath as the car lurches into motion. Perhaps, he wonders if Taehyung has had a change of heart from their prior meeting and decides to take him back to the station. The boy does not vocalise his nerves, though. Maybe he knows Taehyung would not do such a thing.
There is nothing but silence as Taehyung drives. Occasionally, the sound of heavy metal bounces off the tinted windows as Jeongguk shifts a little in the backseat.
Taehyung sniffs.
Jeongguk’s eyes burn along the side of his face.
Taehyung thinks he has never appreciated the proper beauty of Seoul. School was nothing but studying, his home was merely a bed to sleep in, and work is nothing but a salary.
He never focused on the blinking lights or the buskers on the streets. He never looked at the smiles of children who were naive enough to believe that life is worth living or the couples holding hands who had found something to look forward to.
Taehyung had also never driven up Bukhansan mountain high enough to be able to see the view of the city of Seoul beneath him, blinding and beautiful.
Jeongguk watches next to him, rubbing at his wrists as they sit on the hood of Taehyung’s police car.
“It’s pretty from a distance.”
“And close up?” Taehyung responds.
Jeongguk tilts his head to peer at Taehyung. Hair, darker than roasted chestnuts wisp around him. Jeongguk tucks a few strands behind his ear. Taehyung cannot find anything to compare such beauty to.
He turns to look back at the city beneath them, speaking up again as the boy stays silent. “Close up you see the cracks on the street. You see nothing but imperfections. You see corruption, unfairness. Everyone is lost. ”
Jeongguk regards Taehyung for a moment. “Are you lost, hyung?”
He can feel the gaze on him, dark eyes mapping every mole on his skin but Taehyung keeps looking straight ahead. “People who say they aren’t are lying.”
Jeongguk moves up on the hood of the car, lifting his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.
Taehyung has always been used to the silence. Rarely it has been laced with comfort.
“I wanted to go to art school,” Jeongguk whispers. “Become an animator.”
“Yeah? What happened?” Taehyung asks. Slowly, he begins feeling a weight against his arm as Jeongguk leans in closer, hiding from the cold air, curling into himself.
He can hear a car honk in the distance. The light to a whole floor blinks off in one of the skyscrapers. Taehyung stares at the sudden emptiness.
“Guess I got lost.”
There are a few stars in the sky which dip into view from behind the clouds. Taehyung doesn’t need to move his gaze away to remind himself of what Jeongguk’s eyes look like. “I hope someday you get found.”
“You found me.”
The statement makes Taehyung’s heart skip a beat.
“That was too corny,” Jeongguk continues with a scrunch of his nose, a slight lilt in his tone as if disapproving of his own words. “But it’s true. You’ve found me a few times now.”
Taehyung can feel Jeongguk’s warm breath brush against his cheekbone.
It takes Taehyung a while to speak. He’s not sure why Jeongguk manages to catch him so off guard. “I hope someday you’ll find yourself.”
He can feel exactly how long it takes for Jeongguk to let out another breath. Five beats of his heart. Six, perhaps, since his own has seemed to pick up its pace. Attempting to win a race Taehyung didn’t know he was competing in.
“I hope so too.” Jeongguk’s voice is soft, like a droplet of rain sinking down the velvet petals of a flower. “And maybe then—”
“And maybe then what?” Taehyung asks, leaning away so that he can look at Jeongguk.
Jeongguk straightens up, contemplative as he regards Seoul beneath him. All Taehyung can feel is the coolness of his skin, the sudden emptiness of where warmth had been moments before.
Taehyung blinks as he feels Jeongguk’s finger flick his chin. “And then we’ll see.”
We’ll see what? Taehyung wants to ask. But he doesn’t. He needs no clarification; he understands perfectly well what should be going on in Jeongguk’s mind. Similar thoughts have been streaming through his own—ones of hopes and wants, lingering touches and soothing warmth.
Sometimes still, a phantom touch tickles Taehyung's ribs when he lays in bed late at night and tries to chase for the only sort of dream he is capable of accomplishing.
“And then we’ll see,” Taehyung repeats.
Jeongguk lets out a happy little hum, the kind which reminds Taehyung of the age between them and the juxtaposition of how Jeongguk actually is compared to what he does for a living.
Jeongguk’s voice is light again. “Quite handy being close to a cop. Can never really get into trouble, can I?”
Taehyung clicks his tongue. “This is the final time I’m helping you out. It seems I’m already becoming a criminal by harbouring one.”
There’s a giggle, one which rings in Taehyung’s ears like chimes in the wind. It reminds him of the silence which otherwise surrounds them. How the sounds of the city bleed into the night sky, floating above and dissolving into the grey clouds.
“Never considered myself a criminal. Guess I am if I’ve escaped being arrested twice now.”
“You are,” Taehyung points out, eyes dancing with amusement as Jeongguk’s face contorts in disgust.
“Well at least let me be a dangerous one. I need to keep a good street rep if I end up going to jail.”
“I’m sure your street rep is plenty good,” Taehyung says wryly. Finally, he feels let in on the inside joke.
“I am plenty good,” Jeongguk counters, dark brows wagging playfully.
Taehyung’s chest fills with amusement. “You’re ridiculous. Also,” he says after a pause. He is annoyed by his own nagging—surely, he shouldn’t care this much. But the words still leave his lips. He thinks, maybe, he does care this much. “You didn’t listen to me. I told you not to go back and you still did.”
Jeongguk sighs, stretching out his legs and leaning back so that his spine rests against the blue paint of the police car. “Tell me three more times and I might listen to you.”
“Don’t go back there,” Taehyung murmurs.
Jeongguk glances at him.
Taehyung leans down, joining him and laying on the hood of the car.
“Don’t go back there.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” He does. A pause. “I do.”
Jeongguk doesn’t respond, but his eyes never leave Taehyung.
“Just don’t go back there.”
Jeongguk finally turns his head, staring up at the clouds and stars and space above them. Taehyung wonders what he sees when he looks at the dark sky. Himself, perhaps. It is beautiful, after all.
A sigh passes Jeongguk’s parted lips, hands folding over his stomach. “What are you going to do?”
“Right now? Thinking of what to tell my colleague if he starts looking through files and notices I didn’t end up arresting anyone.”
“Not now,” Jeongguk murmurs.
“I’ll probably be busting your ass out of jail.”
“You’re great at dodging real questions,” Jeongguk mumbles.
Taehyung’s lips twitch. He never realised how much of a coward he is. “Thank you.”
Jeongguk nudges his shoulder before they fall into silence once more.
**
Namjoon’s hug is warm. Broad arms and shoulders envelop Taehyung’s figure, squeezing tightly for a few moments before relaxing.
“We’re not saying goodbye forever,” Taehyung snorts once Namjoon fully lets go of him. Amusement fills his chest. He isn’t used to seeing Namjoon so affected.
“Still. I’m used to seeing you everyday.”
Taehyung pushes his chair towards the empty desk. “Then you ought to join me.”
Namjoon ponders for a while. “ Kim Namjoon. Head detective.”
Taehyung lifts up a brow. “Oh, you’d be the head suddenly?”
“I would be, but I’ll leave the position open for you.”
Taehyung chuckles, head shaking in disbelief while Namjoon sits back down by his desk.
“But if I get some shitty person sitting opposite me, I’m forcing you to come back.”
“I felt like roots were beginning to grow out of my ass and into the chair, Joon. Think it’s time for me to move on.”
“I think so too,” Namjoon says, voice softer than usual. The certainty in his works is silent comfort which seeps through the air and flows into Taehyung’s veins.
Taehyung lets out a breath. “I’ll talk to you soon, hyung.”
“Take care, Tae.”
Taehyung leaves with a wave, only looking at Namjoon before he exits.
The long winter had passed and spring was slowly making its way towards the frosty streets of Seoul.
Perhaps a bit cliché, but spring brought change.
Oddly, warmth lacked as the seasons went on and the leaves on trees began to flush a deeper green, rich and earthy.
Taehyung waits patiently as a family exits the café he is entering, watching the younger child skip along the road before he walks in. Music plays in the background, upbeat yet relaxed, barely reaching his ears above the chattering of customers.
He orders himself a herbal tea, tucking locks of dark hair behind his ears as it begins growing too long for his liking. Silently, he decides to have it cut before entering his new office.
Taehyung accepts the tea from the barista, shoes once more clicking against the linoleum floor of the café as he makes his way to leave.
But before he can, Taehyung’s gaze gets drawn to one of the tables. He isn’t sure why, as his eyes instantly flick away. But he looks again at the posh, wooden table with notebooks and an iPad scattered across its surface, and a boy in a large, black hoodie hunched over it all.
His hair is blond now, just in time for spring. It has grown longer than Taehyung’s own, and suddenly he finds himself taking a liking towards such a length.
Taehyung approaches hesitantly, watches as the boy scribbles something onto his iPad. His own fingers itch to press pen to paper and scratch the outlines of the boy’s features so that they would never be forgotten until the ink would wither, but Taehyung does not find such a thing necessary.
And as he hovers over the figure, creating a shadow which should never be cast over such beauty, Jeongguk looks up.
It takes nine beats of his heart for Jeongguk to speak. He guarantees the time is quicker than previously, but Taehyung’s heart is a funny little thing.
“I know you,” Jeongguk says. His voice is spoken in a way that it seems caught in his throat, breathless and wondrous, eyes wide as they take in the face which had been missing from his view throughout the chill of winter.
Taehyung’s mouth breaks into a smile. The stretch in his cheeks feels strange, but welcome.
“Is this seat taken?”