Archive of Our Own ^beta

Act I: falling. The starting piece, multiple scattered scenes.

It is a bit strange; Taehyung must admit. It is stranger, however, when people ask about it.

Their friends are used to it at this point. It has become some sort of inside joke that they all relish when it occurs—which is, to no one’s surprise, quite often—therefore there isn’t any need of spelling it out. But when he must explain it all, it is genuinely strange. Funny as well, he promises.

So.

Jeongguk is attractive. No point in denying it, nobody can, really. With the combination of his sort of taciturn sweetness, polite gentleness, his almost deafening attractiveness, it leads to a lot of people being curious. Curious about him, about his availability, about his relationship status. And Taehyung has been his friend for a long time, too many years to count in one sitting, really.

“So, when do you think you could introduce me to your friend, Jeongguk?” is how they might as well start the conversation. And like the good friend that he is, Taehyung gives in, plays along, scores him the dates. Along the way, he acquires the title of Jeongguk’s wingman. He did not mean to, at the beginning. But most things in life happen without your will as the center force of them.

It does make sense, really. Nothing too complicated.

Having to explain it, however, is what kind of makes it sound insane.

“So,” Taehyung feels compelled to take a sip of his drink. The sharp sting of it makes him scrunch up his face. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Min Yoongi—creative director in their department—nods his head wisely, indulgently, as he has often come to do with matters that involve Taehyung. “I see,” he says, devoid of judgement.

“Alright,” Taehyung slowly articulates, tilting his head sideways. “When I say it aloud it sounds a bit insane.”

“It doesn’t.” Yoongi lets him down easily, the ever-gentle soul.

Namjoon just side-eyes them. He is not in one of his playful moods, so he is hyper-aware of whatever bullshit Taehyung might spew at any moment.

“Oho,” a voice comes abruptly from above Taehyung, all-knowing, full of laughter, then someone drops violently in the seat next to him. “It is insane. But that’s just so on brand for you.” Jimin says, clasping three different glasses of some clear liquor in just one hand. After the jab, he gives Taehyung a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks,” Taehyung says as he pushes Jimin’s head away from him.

“If it’s inconvenient for you, you could just. I don’t know. Not do it?” Yoongi proposes, careful.

Jimin quickly jumps in, “I don’t think he knows that’s a thing.”

“Yah,” Taehyung turns to him.

Jimin downs one of the drinks.

“Hyung, it’s fine,” Taehyung clears up, slowly mulling over his words. “I am not forcing anything upon him anyway. It’s just that they ask, and Jeongguk has never told me to quit it. So, I just assumed that one day he might even find the one,” he nods along.

“Have you ever thought of scoring him a date with yourself?” Yoongi questions, inquisitive.

Somehow, no one had ever made such an assumption about the two of them, so Taehyung gets invaded by an odd kind of warmth, something buoyant and strange. “No,” his laugh bubbles out on the surface. “Me and Jeongguk have never looked at each other like that.”

Jimin downs the rest of his drink in one gulp. “God, you’ll drive me crazy. I will end up greying because of you.”

“What’s your problem?” And then, Taehyung gestures with his palm towards Jimin. “And for good reason, this one is still single.”

The slap over his back is expected, but all bickering dies down once Hoseok turns back to the table, shouting, “Jeon Jeonggukie in the house!” He pushes onto them the same feeling of delight, and they cheer along.

Jeongguk, the perfect imagery of politeness, comes in with a sweet smile, half-hugging each of them in leeway of greeting. When he gets to Taehyung, his coat presses against his cheek as the younger leans down, smelling like ash and the perfume Jeongguk loves to use, the coldness of outside clinging to his skin. “Have you been waiting long?” he asks towards him, to which Taehyung redirects a fond smile.

He ignores the slight stirring in his stomach at the image of him, and responds, “Of course not.”

“What were you guys talking about?” He questions, pulling over a chair to sit next to Taehyung.

“About Taehyung and his wingman skills,” Seokjin supplies, passing Jeongguk a glass.

“Oh, really?” Jeongguk lets out a half smile as he asks this, looking insanely smug for someone who obviously has no game. “And the verdict is?”

Jimin stretches out a hand in front of him, and points his thumb towards the ground, blowing out a raspberry for the effect. The table erupts in laughter, and even Taehyung cannot help but be surprised, pushing at his best friend’s wrist in offense. “What do you even know, huh?”

“Oh, I know more than you.”

For some reason, Jeongguk shoots Jimin a look. Something close to a glare.

“Didn’t you also try to set Jimin up with Jeongguk?” Namjoon raises both his eyebrows at him, and Taehyung almost feels accused.

“Oh, please,” Jimin says exasperatedly. “We can’t keep having this conversation every time we drink.”

“Who was it this time?” Yoongi is the one that pitches the question.

“Jin Areum,” Taehyung answers.

“Oh,” Yoongi nods.

“You have no idea who that is, huh?” Jimin says, amused.

“No.”

This makes Taehyung laugh, and it earns a short look from Jeongguk. The latter’s eyes fall on the hand Jimin has placed around Taehyung’s chair, but he does not remark upon it, though his fingers twitch across his thigh.

“Nothing happened?” Namjoon asks, patient.

“No,” Jeongguk says around a sip of his drink. “I wasn’t really interested.”

Taehyung purses his lips. “So picky. Shall I hold a questionnaire about what gift to get you, so I don’t screw it up?”

Jeongguk only scoffs in response.

“That’s right,” Hoseok points out, “Jeongguk’s birthday is coming up.”

“Are we getting drinks in the weekend?”

“Again?”

“Yeah, it’s for a good cause.”

“Any cause for drinking is a good cause,” and Taehyung pinches Jimin’s side for the comment he has made.

“Why in the weekend?”

“Of course it should be in the weekend, you want a hangover on a work day?”

“Piss off, it was just a question.”

“Which day does it fall on?” The question was directed towards Jeongguk, who gave a small frown in return and made a move to pull his phone out.

“Thursday,” Taehyung sniffs, unperturbed.

An unspoken silence falls between Yoongi and Namjoon. The latter clears his throat. “Of course you would know,” Jimin, oh so helpfully, comments at the silence, moving away to grab a new bottle of something.

Jeongguk puts his phone away, the calendar not being given even a single chance.

And the subject gets pushed away, and of course, Jeongguk’s birthday is still on a Thursday, but what has changed is that Jeongguk’s hand places itself at the back of Taehyung’s chair. The air gets filled by their chatter and the room isn’t spinning yet.

There’s a lot of laughter, a lot of complaining about colleagues, Jimin jabbing a joke at everyone and then getting embarrassed when the same happens to him. Their Friday nights are always filled with company dinners, which have been slowly progressing into best friend territory, and under the lights of a well-loved restaurant, no one can really tell reality apart from this moment. They all get delightfully tipsy, full of warmth and joy. The drinks keep pouring, the meat keeps on cooking on the grill, Jeongguk keeps on whispering jokes in his ear.

All is well in the world.

#

All is not well in the world.

Taehyung should have known better. Whenever he makes a statement about the general state of the world, somehow the whole universe tilts on its axis to try and prove him wrong. Whether it is about the weather, his workplace, anything. He could say grass is green today and it would somehow turn purple tomorrow.

He swore, up and down, that he does not have feelings for Jeon Jeongguk, one of his closest, dearest friends, for whom he has been going out of his way to land him dates with people that are explicitly not him.

And now.

It is the weekend in which they are celebrating Jeongguk’s birthday, long after sneaking a cake into work and trying to smush it against his face. (In the end, they did not manage to, they never really do when it comes to Jeongguk, who can easily overpower them. Seokjin ended up as the biggest victim. The cake was carrot flavored.) The seven of them are together by default, along with some common friends, work friends, along with friends of theirs.

It was the perfect night for Taehyung to exercise his well-known privileges as a wingman, and coming with the spotlight earned by being the birthday boy, he did not have to try too hard.

“Jeongguk-ah!”

“Hyung,” he is acknowledged.

“I want you to meet someone.”

A sigh, reconciled to his fate, and too indulgent of Taehyung’s whims to really go against it. “Alright.”

She is pretty. Her hair is a bit discolored, and it curls over her ears, and smells like hibiscus flower, and the tips of her nails are white and her sweater flares at her wrists with fluff, and she has hugged her friends many times throughout the night.

Introductions are thrown into the air, and Taehyung does not have the ability to follow much more into it.

Usually, no matter who he introduced to Jeongguk, he never experienced the awkwardness of third wheeling. He would leave on his own account, with an obnoxious comment, a pat on the shoulder. Anything. But he never got ushered away, never actually felt unwanted.

But after a few sentences, Jeongguk leans over into his space, just over his shoulder, enough to feel his warmth. He is no longer careful with his touches like he used to be, and Taehyung has never shied away from them—but there is something about the sudden looming presence, about the palm that places itself soothingly on the small of his back like an apology, that makes his heartbeat stutter.

“I’ll meet you outside, yeah?” His breath fans over Taehyung’s ear just so, and his mind freezes.

He knows when to get a hint, as he has mentioned, he would normally be out of their hair in a second, with a nice, little funny comment and a wink. But instead, he is momentarily frozen at the burning touch. He takes a moment to come back to his senses, and when he does, he realizes something is happening that has never happened before: he didn’t want to go. The thought makes his heart lurch, and he nibbles on his tongue for a moment to keep from blurting out something incriminating.  

“Okay,” he smiles in the end. “Bye, Minji-ah.”

“See you,” she waves her fingers at him.

In the end, he retreats with a strong sense of shame overtaking him, only shooting Jeongguk something akin to a halved smile. It was a shame directed towards himself, towards the reaction that he gave out at being touched for just a moment’s breath. He does not put it past himself to feel like this because he has been starving for such intimate affection for far too long. It couldn’t, shouldn’t be anything else.

Stubborn on proving his point, he looks back, and is surprised to see Jeongguk leaning in over into her space, hand strategically placed under her palm, so she doesn’t spill her drink over when she laughs. And he finds out he is not as unaffected as he thought.

That shame takes over his body again, setting his face aflame, that hand that touched him just a few moments ago feels almost tangible on his skin, burning its imprint in impossibly warm traces.

Taehyung is so taken aback by it; he can only watch everything unfold with a dry mouth.

#

He steps away from the scene once he regains his footing and notices he has been looking at them for a lot longer than he should’ve. He turns around, and crouches behind one of the covered tables, putting a hand over his wild-beating heart, and one on his forehead, Taehyung thinks to himself, “What’s this?” What has suddenly shifted, to make him feel like this.

And Taehyung, despite popular opinion, is not a fool. There are not many conclusions that can be drawn from this. The one he is leaning towards is a truth he is not yet ready to admit.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Jimin’s questioning voice rouses him from his stupor, and he looks up.

His eyebrows are raised, a glass of champagne held in his hand, while the other sits leisurely in the pocket of his pants. “You kind of look feverish. Are you feeling sick?” He immediately places his glass down and leans over to reach Taehyung’s level.

“No!” He exclaims, straightening his shoulders, almost bumping Jimin in the chin. “I just did something embarrassing. That’s it.” He presses his lips together in a thin line, and he cannot believe he just blushed to the point his ears feel hot—how devastating.

Jimin seems to take his excuse at face value and shakes off his head. “Only you could be this strange.” He mutters, almost to himself. Then, he downs the glass of champagne in one go, cracks his neck, and pulls him up. “Let’s go dance, I love this song.”

Taehyung gets up in a hurry, ears still burning hot.

He does not feel nearly as foolish as he did earlier when dancing with Jimin. Those feelings might’ve been just a miscalculated reaction, maybe he just did not like being dismissed as quickly as Jeongguk did, hence he is not used to it. But there should be no deeper thoughts for him to linger on since this means nothing. Nothing at all.

And Jimin knows how to spin him around and hold him just right in order to forget completely.

He is pressed against his front, his fingers looped playfully around the belt hoops of his cream dress pants, after having playfully mimicked the action of unbuttoning Taehyung’s vest, now belting out the lyrics of a soft, suave song.

Close towards midnight, people have started to mingle more, knowing that Jeongguk’s birthday song will come on soon. Somewhere in the middle of their playful back and forth, Jeongguk finds them, coincidentally alone, which serves every purpose of reminding Taehyung why he was irritated and embarrassed in the first place.

Jeongguk’s eyes linger upon Jimin’s hands, placed on Taehyung’s hips, which only makes the latter believe he might become completely delusional by the end of this night. Since when does he care about this type of stuff, about where Jeongguk’s eyes linger, what it might mean?

“There you are,” Jeongguk comes in close, which causes Jimin to loosen the hold around him.

“How come you’re here?” Jimin asks, a playful smile on his lips. “I thought you were busy.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows jump for a second, mildly irritated.

Before he could say something, Taehyung chides, “Yah, don’t irritate the birthday boy. He can go wherever he wants to.” He pulls away from Jimin’s embrace, and Jeongguk seems to preen under his touch once he latches onto his elbow.

Jimin whispers something under his breath, Taehyung does not catch it. But it seems like Jeongguk did since his eyebrow twitches.

Taehyung does not have time to interrogate them; not like he would get to know much anyway. For the longest time, Jimin has been teasing Jeongguk about an unknown secret that not even Taehyung is privy to. Each time Jimin reassures him that it cannot be held a secret forever, and Jeongguk punches him in the shoulder. Then the scene repeats, and Taehyung never gets his answer.

The lights go down, the music stops, and Seokjin comes in holding the cake.

Everyone wishes Jeongguk a happy birthday, singing it for him. He knows Jeongguk has never been big on parties, especially when they are solely focused on him, so he takes the attention with that specific polite smile of his that he hasn’t dropped from university until now.

The air inside is warm, filled with people that not even Taehyung knows very well. Even so, seeing one of his closest friends being celebrated in such a space—filled with love and care where it truly matters—pulls on some of his heartstrings. All seven of them live far from home, making it through the concrete jungle that is Seoul, so he hopes to give back a small portion of comfort when celebrations fall far away from what is familiar.

After a few minutes, the people disperse, and Taehyung gets stuck again in the same limbo that involves facing his own feelings.

So. “Let’s step outside for a second,” Taehyung latches himself onto Jeongguk’s hand, and the latter follows him shortly after.

The two of them met while taking the same internship, and they ended up bonding over something as simple as not being from Seoul. Back then, for the first time in a long time, Taehyung felt as if he was taking those awkward, fawn-like steps toward getting to know someone for who they are, and him getting to be known in return. It is important to know that the bakery down the street of their old company had these mango-based tarts that Jeongguk would never turn down.

When Taehyung pulls out his box, Jeongguk laughs.

He puts a hand on his chest, lip ring stretching across the sweetness of his smile. “For me?”

Taehyung bows, presenting the box atop his open palms. “Will you accept this humble offering, Your Highness?”

“How could I refuse such generosity?” He takes the box from Taehyung’s hands delicately, and the two crouch down. Taehyung pulls out a single sparkler from the pocket of his dress pants and quickly lights it up.

“I bet you do this to everyone,” Jeongguk jokes, the implications of this little tart being served away from the eyes of the party not being ignored.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You’re my only dongsaeng, and you already know you’re special. You just like hearing it.” The two of them share an intimate, secretive smile atop the small show of light, and Jeongguk closes his eyes.

Taehyung does not know if it is something about the slope of his nose, or the way in which one strand of hair tickles the top of his cheek, or the way in which he gently holds the little box. But for the first time, as Jeongguk purses his lips deep in thought about the wish he will whisper to himself, Taehyung feels his heart falling prey to something so much larger than life, something that he has not felt for quite some time now—genuine, all-consuming attraction.

The thought scares Taehyung so much, that he zones out even after the younger opens his eyes again.

Jeongguk is attractive, there is no way anyone can deny this. But.

No. No.

This, not this, this cannot happen. Out of everyone, it could have been anyone. Why him and why now?

“Hyung?” Jeongguk questions, eyes alight over slowly dying sparkler. There’s a fine line of goosebumps raising up on his skin, and the bruise on the back of his palm deeply accentuates the veins dropping on his forearm. And Taehyung—on God—blushes.

Why.

“Sorry.” Taehyung goes on looking back at the sparkler, even if his eyes hurt. “Happy birthday, Jeonggukie.” The sparkler goes out, and there is only a mango flavored tart between the two of them, and their friends have probably split throughout the party, and the girl is still waiting for Jeongguk inside, with a night full of promises. And yet. He is still here with him, in this small space filled up by the burnt smell of sparklers, and the bittersweet smell of realization.

Oh, God. Why.

“Thank you, hyung,” and he leans over, hugging Taehyung over the shoulder with one hand, pressing a small kiss on the side of his temple, and Taehyung’s heart hurts. “You’re the best.”

Oh, Taehyung is fucked.

#

Taehyung has had to adapt to many situations in his life. Moving to Seoul without knowing anyone or anything, facing the skyrocketing deposit prices for his apartment, having to redo a year in university, academic pressure, the hunt for his current job. The break-up he had suffered after finishing his last year, having spent a whole night crying to songs of Sam Cooke that spoke of undeniable, unbreakable love. Back then, Jimin had to pull him from under the covers to make sure he did not die of dehydration.

He could easily go to Jimin, talk about his feelings, reach a conclusion with the help of a fresh perspective. But Taehyung would be a fool to give the chance for these feelings to breathe. What better way to uproot something than spending his evening at a small place down the street with too many bottles of soju and an overindulgence of tteokbokki. Like a mature person. He laments, once again, how traitorous his heart is. And how it does not let him live a life without being a heartbroken fool.

Taehyung plasters his face to the table, reconsidering everything about himself.

He thinks of the many memories they share, of their intern days running errands and delivering coffee. Huddling in a corner of the changing room and lip syncing obnoxiously to a song they liked, Taehyung compiling CDs for Jeongguk with his own face plastered on it. Of the early studying for midterms, tears shed over pressure and fear towards the future. Of the visit he had paid to Jeongguk at his first job after their graduation, and seeing how all his seniors pushed him around and mocked him. Taehyung had seen nothing but red back then. He had hauled Jeongguk away, yelled at everyone present, and subsequently got Jeongguk fired. The younger had not minded. Soft-hearted as he was towards Taehyung.

Taehyung had cried out of guilt, and Jeongguk had reassured him. “It feels good for someone to have your back like that.”

“That’s what friends are for, Jeonggukie.” He had said through heavy sniffles and a red nose. Reacting a lot stronger to this whole ordeal despite the fact that he had been the one to instigate it. Friends. Just friends.

Taehyung downs another shot.

Halfway through, Taehyung befriends the old men sitting on the plastic chair by his side, watching a match of fencing on the small television.

When their darling competitor wins—a girl on the national team, in her last year of high school—Taehyung hollers along with the people inside the restaurant and buys for each of them a bottle of soju. (In total, they are about five people inside the place).

“Say,” one of the old men say. “You are a handsome fella. You must have a girlfriend.”

Taehyung laughs, rose-cheeked and tipsy. “No, I don’t.”

Another one of them laughs, and cheekily winks at him. “No lucky girl then, ey?”

Taehyung thinks of his homosexuality, and just nods his head with a smile. “I’m the unlucky one in that department.” Which is true. They cheer for that.

He remembers how he felt two nights ago, when hit by his realization, and downs another glass.

Truly unlucky.

#

The next morning, Taehyung hits snooze on his alarm, too miserable to care.

“At least close the damn thing,” Jimin says to him groggily, pushing with the sole of his foot at Taehyung who’s cocooned in a blanket.

“Sorry,” Taehyung answers, and they both know the same thing will happen tomorrow.

Taehyung also has developed a bad habit of falling asleep on the floor after drinking, during his time at the dorm rooms, so now he brings it with him everywhere. Each time he finds him halfway through the night, Jimin only sighs and covers him with a blanket. And Taehyung would only grumble but could not be forced to rouse or to move.

He flops right back onto the carpet, so Jimin jostles him again.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Taehyung groans, slapping his foot away.

“Why were you drinking? It’s Wednesday.”

Taehyung sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, soft from sleep. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Jimin scoffs. “Try me.”

“Not in the mood right now.”

Jimin looks at him. “Right.”

The ride to work is silent, the sun peeking happily through the trees, warm enough for Taehyung to only bring his suit jacket. He is dreading the board meeting of today. Their office floor makes up a whole department, and although Jeongguk works separately from him most of the time, save for when they must go live, he must attend the meetings as well.

When the time comes, Taehyung is already regretting his decisions.

Jeongguk seems to catch onto his bad mood as soon as he sits down, keeping his gaze on him from the moment greetings leave their lips. They do not have time to discuss the matter, since the meeting starts, and Taehyung must pretend that he is paying attention to everything. Although, in reality, he cannot wait to step outside and loosen the buttons of his dress shirt, feeling suffocated under the watchful eye of Jeongguk.

“Are you sick?” Jeongguk asked as soon as the meeting adjourned.

“Mm,” Taehyung hums, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Hangover.”

“You drank?” For good reason Jeongguk sounds surprised. Taehyung is not big on any alcoholic beverages, coffee is also not pleasant to him in any way, nothing bitter nor spicy pleases him. Getting drunk on no occasion and by himself is a bit out of character, he could admit.

A shrug. “I just felt like it.”

Jeongguk does not seem convinced, but he tends to leave Taehyung to his own devices.

Generally, Taehyung had always inspired this need for people to take care of him. Maybe it is because he does enjoy acting spoiled to those closest to him, enjoys getting coddled and appreciated. When it came to relationships, that was never the case. With him, it was always a losing game—he always felt as if he wanted everything, was too eager, hid too much, expressed too little, spilled at the edges at the most unfortunate of times. He never felt seen, acknowledged. His words always came out as evasive, shy, and quick. It made it hard to keep it up, so most of his relationships withered away, suffocated.  

When the two of them head out for lunch this time, Jeongguk drives them outside the neighborhood to a small place close to the company they had their internship at. Taehyung, surprised, looks at the restaurant that he himself had gone a few times for hangover soup.

“I felt like having some haejangguk today. What do you say?”

Taehyung laughs. “Sure you did.”

Halfway through their unexpected lunch endeavor, Taehyung’s stomach finally begins to settle, he groans, lounging his hands towards the ceiling in a stretch. “Ah,” his joints twitch across the table’s surface, aching. “I feel like I’m almost me again.”

Jeongguk huffs, in that mesmerizingly sweet way of his. “Wouldn’t you tell me why you were drinking by yourself at night?” He surveys Taehyung with a careful eye, keeping the candor of his eyes on him as he bites down at the end of his food, and the elder cannot hold such intense eye-contact for long.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung deflects, not foolish enough to admit to any truth.

“Hm,” the younger hums, digging through his food all diligently. “Just tell me next time. I’ll join you. We can get chicken and beer.”

“I’m not drinking any time soon.” Taehyung groans, making grabby hands towards Jeongguk’s glass. The other easily gives it to him.

“Sure.” Jeongguk says, unconvinced. “That’s what you say each time.”

And something about the words pulls Taehyung out of his small thinking space, realizing how much genuine attention Jeongguk has been paying him, just to give and spread a bit of comfort. The thought makes his heart thrum, the ghost of both familiar and unknown feelings seeping into each other.

“Thank you for this, Jeonggukie,” Taehyung says, sincerity dripping from his tone, making Jeongguk look at him in surprise at the solemnity and affection there. “You took me by surprise. I’m really thankful.”

“Don’t thank me for things that are so easy to do,” the younger shrugs.

“But you’re so good to me all the time. I feel like you take care of me more than I do with you. And you’re my dongsaeng.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jeongguk dismisses him, stealing something from Taehyung’s side of the table. “I’m not as attentive as you think I am.”

But Jeongguk always did this. Surprised him with how much he noticed. With how much he cared for those around him and appreciated them through actions rather than through words, always denying the magnitude of them. And his untrustworthy and unreliable heart quivers in his chest. Besides, Taehyung can no longer deny it. He must feel something for Jeon Jeongguk unprecedented from all his other infatuations, something that cannot be put into words until it becomes too late.

#

In the wake of his own actions, Taehyung needs to deal with their consequences.

There have been many people that Taehyung has set Jeongguk up with, purely by coincidence, purely because he thought they would perhaps be able to create a long-lasting connection with the younger. There was Jaewon, they did not even go on a second date. There was Hyeyoung, with whom Jeongguk did have about three dates with—halfway through admitting that they were simply not compatible. And then, there was Jiheon, with whom Jeongguk managed to hold up a relationship of three months.

Now, Minji.

“She reminds me of you a bit.” Is what Hoseok is saying towards Taehyung once the guys ask him about the date Jeongguk had a few nights ago. He then keeps digging with his chopsticks around his bowl, not dwelling too much on what he said.

The admission zaps through Taehyung like lightning.

Ominously, and strange, but obvious, Jimin and Jeongguk share a look at the ill-timed comment. Taehyung still isn’t accustomed to his newly gained want for Jeongguk, so any comment about her and him stings a bit, and each time, more and more. But he notices their little exchange, and he cannot help but feel a bit left out.

“Really?” That’s why he presses on the issue instead of letting it go with a laugh. “How so?”

“Pretty hair, nice laugh,” Hoseok shrugs, then looks at Taehyung. “Similar vibe I suppose.”

“You think my hair is pretty?” Taehyung chooses to tease, playfully tucking a strand behind his ear.

Hoseok kicks him in the shin. “Aish, so full of yourself.”

Taehyung, in some other situation, maybe would have insisted on it, but he does not want to raise any suspicion. But again, Taehyung finds himself acting more and more unlike himself lately.

Jimin laughs, unprompted by anything.

“What’s your deal?” Taehyung questions.

“I’m having so much fun, you have no idea,” he answers, not elaborating in the slightest. This seems to earn a negative reaction from Jeongguk, who kicks Jimin in the shin, but it does not deter the other in the slightest. Only makes him laugh longer.

If Jeongguk is already reacting like this at being teased, he must really like Minji.

Now.

Taehyung is no stranger to jealousy. Part of being human means tasting the joys and sorrows of life. However, jealousy that centers Jeongguk in his mind, with romantic interest and intention, is new territory even for him. And worst of all, Taehyung placed himself in this bullshit situation. He laid the bear trap in the forest and then stepped right into it.

He shovels more food in his mouth, trying to cover the void that expands under his ribcage.

“Have you asked her on a date, Jeonggukie?”

Jeongguk only hums noncommittally, not disclosing his true feelings on the matter. “Not really. We only went back to her house.”

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek. God, feelings are the worst.

Hoseok and Jimin let out a teasing sound, a simultaneous, “Oh…”

“Nothing happened.” Jeongguk pushes away at Hoseok who jammed his elbow into him. “She was drunk, and I took her home. We played Jenga.” His eyebrows jumped up towards his hairline, recalling the moment with a soft type of fondness. “She couldn’t stop talking about her best friend and how amazing she is, so I’m pretty sure I know in which direction her heart is swaying.”

The relief Taehyung feels at this makes him feel selfish, so used to denying his own desires.

Jimin laughs, throwing his head back. “Seems you were wrong this time, too, Taehyung-ah.”

How lucky. “I think it’s time I retire from my duties as a wingman,” he says, shamelessly enough.

Jimin pauses. “What are you saying?”

Jeongguk and Hoseok fix their stares onto him, which makes Taehyung gape and fumble for an answer. “Well, you know,” he looks around the table. “I think Jeongguk can handle it on his own.” He gives him a small smile, at which Jeongguk’s nose twitches.

“That’s so weird, I’ve never thought I’d hear you say that.” Jimin squints at him suspiciously, but still threads an affectionate hand though the back of his hair. “What changed? Care to elaborate for hyung?” He teases, at which Taehyung blushes and kicks his hand away.

“Stop it, we’re the same age,” but he does not protest anymore. “Anyway, who cares if I do it or not? It doesn’t seem to make any difference anyway.”

“Did you hear that? Taehyung just called you a hopeless cause.”

“That was not what I said at all.”

Jimin smiles, and turns towards Jeongguk. “Perhaps our Jeonggukie already has someone in his heart?”

Jeongguk retaliates immediately, and jams his foot out, but instead of getting Jimin, he kicks Taehyung instead. The latter immediately jumps out of his seat, and clutches at his ankle.

“Hyung! I’m sorry! That wasn’t for you!” Jeongguk’s distressed voice followed immediately, and he got up from his seat to assist the elder.

Jimin cackles obnoxiously to the side, delighted.

“Yah,” Taehyung jostles him, as Jeongguk turns his ankle sideways. “Whatever inside joke you guys have going on, keep it away from the table, okay?” He scolds Jeongguk, who immediately falls silent as he inspects his skin, thumb pressing against the bone as he rubs circles into it. It’s not even going to bruise, yet Jeongguk is being so delicate with him, and it makes his face heat up with an incoming blush. Honestly, at least he has this, this gentle, careful side that Jeongguk saves up for those he truly loves.

“I get it,” Jeongguk offers as an answer, looking up at him.

Taehyung purses his lips, taken aback by the image of Jeongguk kneeling in front of him and handling him with care. “Okay, then,” he mumbles.

Hoseok and Jimin have been watching them and laughing, and when Jeongguk returns to his seat, Jimin whispers, “Hopeless.”

As the small throbbing of his ankle starts to go away, Taehyung thinks he is hopeless, alright.

#

Taehyung is a resourceful man.

And despite popular belief, he is someone with little experience in matters of the heart.

The first reason being his, well, preference towards men, and the second being… well, himself. Earlier in his life, people used to adore his excitement and sunny demeanor towards the world and all its beings, but it would be too much to deal with. And then, later, as he grew up and mellowed out and finally started to settle into his own bones, he would be intimidating and hard to read.

When he looks back on it, his desire is nothing short of gargantuan.

It would often lead to unfortunate endings, or unfinished stories.

And when Taehyung wants to get out of something, he has a special kind of way of doing it, so that he completely stumps himself and the person he is with. He recalls this one guy he had a situation going on with—kind of tall, kind of stupid, kind of cute—and their little scenarios, particularly that one in which they were supposed to be having a tender moment, in which Taehyung’s cheek was lovingly cupped and something beautiful was about to be said.

“Taehyung, I,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“I’ve got makeup on,” Taehyung had said, even if it was a half-lie.

“Oh.” He had said, interrupted hand now hanging in an undefined space between the two of them.

“Yeah. Please don’t rub it off.”

“Oh, yeah of course, sorry.” He took his hand away and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he had repeated, sniffing. There it is. Stumped. 

Taehyung takes people by surprise, he stumps them. It is a special ability that comes with regarding the world through a special crafted lens that only Taehyung knows how to wield to his advantage.

He rarely gets stumped, even by the people he is attracted to.

But lately, Jeon Jeongguk has proved himself to be very capable of doing the exact same thing that he has never had to experience on his own skin before. He never used to pay any mind to how much attention he receives from Jeongguk. Now, when Jeongguk gets all close and personal, Taehyung would do that not-so-Taehyung thing in which he would shy away from him and from those indescribable emotions rising inside of him.

A forehead kiss, a tug on his hair, a wrist grab, a waist hug, another forehead kiss. All oddly intimate all of a sudden.

And the worst thing is that Taehyung feels guilty about it. Jeongguk does not know the nature of his newfound feelings, so when he is preening under the ghost of his touch, smiling at the closeness, and tingling all over his body, he feels as if he is shamefully coveting something he has no right to. As if he is taking advantage of him.

He does prefer to give up control and any façade of composure in the face of his lover, but Jeongguk is not his lover, and most likely would never be.

Taehyung is looking over some files. He must present the weather forecast four days out of seven, at five in the evening each time, and he has noticed a few mistakes in his script, so he needs to replace them with the correct files.

When he throws a short look at the printer, he already notices Jeongguk sitting by it, waiting for a bunch of papers, along with Jinri, one of Taehyung’s closest friends in the office. He is wearing dress pants that fall loose on him, and his white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, showcasing the subtle strength in his forearms and the ink that falls down on them. He would hate to admit to himself that he rushes over just to bask in his presence, so he doesn’t.

“Hi, hi,” Taehyung greets once he reaches the printer, Jinri turning towards him with a look full of delight.

“Taehyung-ah, hello.”

“Oh, hyung!” Jeongguk exclaimed.

“Noona, you didn’t say hi to me today when I came in,” Taehyung pretends to sulk, turning his eyes to the side, rearranging his stack of papers.

“Sorry, I had a few things to take care of. But I’m free today. Do you have plans for lunch?”

He instinctively gazes towards Jeongguk. “Do we?” Him and Jeongguk usually take their lunches together, whether it is something one of them boxed for the day, or a little nice place not too far away with a bus ride. Jeongguk is a very passionate food enjoyer, so he takes these breaks very seriously—now, Taehyung does not know where he should place his heart in this equation.

“Of course,” Jeongguk admits easily. His traitorous heart gives a very pleased flutter at this.

“Look at that,” Jinri jokes. “Taehyung-ah, you should focus less on trying to get Jeongguk a date and look after yourself for a bit. How can you only spend lunch with friends?” She pushes a hand against his shoulder, and he notices how Jeongguk’s papers have finished printing, but he does not make a move towards retrieving them.

He makes eye contact with the younger for a second, which seems to pull Jeongguk back to reality.

“I’m fine for now. It never actually works out for me anyway,” Taehyung smiles, feeling a little stab of sadness pierce through his heart. He knows it is not much of his own fault, but rather it’s something to do with wrong timings, half full feelings, unrequited love, and so on. He is always sitting right at the edge of a heartbreak.

Over the photocopier, Jeongguk never takes his eye off him, crookedly arranging a pile of papers. It was strange, but Taehyung knew better than to remark on it.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Jinri says, pleasantly, kindly, as she always does. Her ring glints onto her finger, a promise of sorts, and he aches for the promise of it, as well. “You’re quite lovely.” She smiles, and Taehyung feels himself blushing.

Again, Jeongguk never turns away from the interaction.

When Jinri steps away, after having agreed to share lunch today, Jeongguk comes into his space, hooking his chin over his shoulder to take a look at what he is working on. His reasons are unbeknownst to him. Taehyung has never been one to be too affectionate in public when it carries romantic weight, but there is no one around, and this is Jeongguk—pressing up against him, breath fanning against the pulse of his throat. He can feel the heat of his body, softly swaying them side to side as they wait.

“What’s up with you?” Taehyung finds himself asking, fighting to overcome the lump that has formed in his throat. Taehyung knows he needs to learn how to be good about Jeongguk touching him. But up close like this, the affectionate little breath that falls against Taehyung’s ear makes him forget all about it.

“What do you mean? I thought you appreciated my presence.” Jeongguk feigns nonchalance, letting his palm linger over the surface of Taehyung’s stomach, and the placement of it makes his hands halt. “You need to press the button, hyung.” He says as he pushes his thumb against the print inscription.

“Oh,” Taehyung nods, dazed.

Jeongguk just lets out an amused little huff, and. What the hell. How has Taehyung never been affected by such casual displays of affection? And how is he supposed to swallow all his feelings now as they bubble to the surface, when this is the routine that they have been both accustomed to?

“Hyung,” Jeongguk calls out to him.

See. Stumped.

“Yes?”

“It’s done.”

“Oh,” Taehyung repeats himself. He leans over, restacking his papers in order.

“You seem distracted,” Jeongguk announces, now rubbing his palm up and down Taehyung’s abdomen, catching onto the material of his blouse each time, making all his blood head somewhere far too south for convenience. He wonders why that is.

“Well,” Taehyung pushes himself out of his embrace, slipping away from the small space created between Jeongguk and the printer. “If you did not hang onto me like this, maybe I could move.”

Jeongguk only smiles, pleased, knowing that he would never tell him off on it properly. “Hm,” he hums, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Sorry,” he does not sound apologetic in the least. Taehyung narrows his eyes—he ought to chastise him more. He is growing far too spoiled.

“I’m craving seolleongtang today,” he says, leaning over into Taehyung’s space to peer at his frown through his lashes.

“Sure, whatever,” Taehyung responds as he lets his eyes skim over the text in an attempt to distract his shaking heart.

“See you soon,” Jeongguk tells him, still smiling, making way to head out, knowing that Taehyung will only ignore him more. Then, he pats his butt a few times for good measure, lingering far too long for it to be unintentional.

Taehyung startles and looks after Jeongguk, who only walks down the hallway while letting out a soft, unbothered whistle. He covers his mouth with his hand. Has he been so painfully ignorant of his feelings that he unwillingly gave Jeongguk leeway to do whatever he wants just to incite a reaction from him? Then, he has been holding on for longer than he thought. Moreso, Jeon Jeongguk is way more dangerous than he could have anticipated.

Taehyung takes an additional five minutes until he returns to his desk.

#

During lunch, Taehyung must keep a losing fight with his own heart.

He supposes it is worth it when he gets to spend quality time like this with Jeongguk and now Jinri.

However, he cannot help but notice things about Jeongguk that he used to not pay too much attention to before. When he eats and enjoys it, his eyebrows scrunch up. Every few minutes, he cracks his fingers against the palm of his hand, and the slope of his jaw looks smooth and soft to the touch, harsh and powerful. There are so many tattoos scattered against the surface of his skin, and as he opens the first few buttons of his dress shirt, Taehyung’s eyes linger over his collarbones, tracing and retracing their shape as if to imagine what it would be like to let his fingers touch over them. 

“Taehyung-ah?”

It’s Jinri’s voice that pulls him out of his reverie.

“Yes?”

“I was saying, how about the karaoke club this Friday?” Half of the conversations have been escaping him until now.

“Oh,” Taehyung hums, and presses his knuckles against his cheek. Sure enough, he is blushing. “Sure, let’s go.”

“Great!” She exclaims, “shall we head over now?”

The three of them gather up their bags, and Jeongguk shuffles closer to him, reaching out his hand to take Taehyung’s bag from him, as he usually tends to do.

“It’s fine,” Taehyung says, the traitorous beat of his heart betraying how pleased he was with that simple action. “I can carry my stuff.”

Jeongguk frowns. “Is something wrong, hyung? You didn’t really talk a lot today.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung feigns a laugh.

“Just asking,” Jeongguk shrugs, and they start walking, Jinri pulling up ahead to retrieve her coat from the hanger. “You know you can talk to me, no matter what, right?”

Taehyung cannot, really. Not this time.

“Thank you. I know, Jeonggukie.” He smiles, and it feels stilted and wrong, even to himself.

Jeongguk is still frowning but he lets the matter go. Still, just to appease him—and nothing more, he swears—he latches onto Jeongguk’s hand, pulling him close, the material of their jackets molding into each other. It seems to put the younger at ease, so Taehyung allows himself this. He needs to process this new development in his feelings as quickly as possible, lest he wants to ruin their friendship. And Jeongguk, one of the closest people in his life, surpassed the meaning of friend a long time ago. He is already catching on to the shift in Taehyung’s demeanor and this only solidifies the thought that he cannot lose what they have because of an untimely realization.

For the rest of the week, Taehyung tries to avoid the places in which Jeongguk is by himself. Working on different segments of the camera work, printing some files, looking over paperwork, all because he would not be able to stomach the fluttering feeling that arises in the depths of his being, trying to get out of him.

He spends a lot more time in his office.

Taehyung does enjoy his job; he is fortunate enough to. His friends and family have always described him as charismatic, someone that could make an entire room turn their heads towards his presence. Which, in and of itself, is flattering. That does not take away from his own struggles, however. At the end of the day, someone should love you for your roots, not for the flowers that you present to the world, and as winter inevitably comes, Taehyung is always reminded of this.

Jeongguk is someone that met Taehyung while he was still figuring himself out, in the cold tresses of a long winter.

Their initial encounter was unexpected, unpremeditated. And somehow exactly what they needed at the time. Connection, stability, affection. How could Taehyung just throw something more into the mix and hope it won’t change a thing?

Although Taehyung makes up some poor excuses, Jeongguk is not any less affectionate. The boldest thing he had done the whole week was the back hug and the caressing of his stomach. He makes sure to buy Taehyung small treats and then put his hands in places too inappropriate for a workplace, then play it all off with a charming little smile and a nose scrunch.

“You still up for karaoke?” Jeongguk asks him, Friday having eventually rolled around.

“Of course,” Taehyung answers, mouth occupied with a box of strawberries Jeongguk brought in today. He is leaning against the elder’s desk, the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, clad in a black turtleneck, hair falling across his forehead in a mess that spells how soft and clean it must be.

“Jinri invited some more people, too.”

“That’s great.”

Jeongguk purses his lips, watching him intently as he eats. “That’s it?”

“Hm?” Taehyung feels intimidated by his stare, so he just keeps his eyes fixed on his screen monitor.

“You’re not going to ask who is coming?”

Taehyung’s eyes set on Jeongguk. “Okay? Why would I?”

“You don’t care who is coming?”

“I do care. I just don’t see why I would ask about it now.”

“So, there’s no intention to set up a blind date for me again?” Jeongguk sounds suspicious as he says so, pushing his fingers against the paper atop Taehyung’s desk as he leans over to peer at him.

Taehyung purses his lips. “Well,” he nods, considering. “I did say I’ll retire. It’s time for you to handle your dry spell by yourself.”

Jeongguk scoffs, amused. “I’m not going through a dry spell.”

“I know, I know.” Taehyung laughs, teasingly. “You’re a romantic. Right person, right time.”

The younger just stares at him, pondering, the captivating depth of his stare returning tenfold. “After so many years of trying, you’re giving up, just like that?” It would be an overstatement to say that Taehyung is nervous. He is very much panicking.

“I mean, it was about time, right? I wasn’t exactly successful.” Perhaps presumptuous, a bit overbearing.

“Is that why you’ve been spending less time with me in the office?” His voice is stilted as he asks this, and Taehyung sees a glimpse of that awkward, younger Jeongguk that had to swallow half of his fears just to ask Taehyung to hang out.

“Jeonggukie,” Taehyung leans over, taking his hand in his. “It’s just that I was busy.” He says, not having it in himself to admit how much of a coward he is.

“So, you weren’t avoiding me, then?” Jeongguk says, threading his fingers through Taehyung’s, placated enough to invade the elder’s space like he tends to do.

“I swear I wasn’t,” he lies. Taehyung is not able to shoulder that kind of intensity, so he offers Jeongguk a strawberry. “Here. Take it. Don’t sulk.” And Jeongguk, despite his expectations, leans over the desk and swallows the entirety of the fruit straight from between his fingers, leaving only the stem. Then, he opens his eyes, fixing them on Taehyung, and as he retreats, he lets the tip of his tongue linger against his fingers. What.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He says, then sees himself outside the door.

What.

There is a high possibility that there is steam coming out of Taehyung’s ears right now, so he presses his forehead against the wood of his desk to cool what is definitely an aggressive blush.

Karaoke night went as expected.

Seokjin overtakes the floor, Jeongguk sweeps everyone off their feet with that sweet angelic voice of his, and Jimin spins him around. Jinri is flirting with her fiancée, who indulges all of her shenanigans. One of their dear coworkers, Chanmi, joins Seokjin, belting together some wrong lyrics. The colored lights that spin around the room drenched in partial darkness just make it all the more pleasant to down as many drinks as they can, and Taehyung joins them, although a bit more reserved.

Throughout the night, no matter how many times he looks at Jeongguk, only the strawberry incident plays in his mind. The younger has always been playful and affectionate towards those he feels comfortable with. Taehyung should take it as it is. Not as a moment to replay and turn and spin in his mind until it gains more essence than it needs.

Truly at this stage of feelings realization, his mind is going off the rails.

“Hyung, dance with me!” Jeongguk eventually calls out to him. Clearly, avoidance is a bad strategy.

Taehyung indulges him, because despite the shame that seems to swallow him whole, he still craves the closeness that he and Jeongguk have come to share over the years. If he lets his head linger on his shoulder, and he presses his body closer than he needs to, that truth is only for him to know. And as they were balancing to the rhythm, once Taehyung closed his eyes, he thought that for this moment, at least, he was the only one who had Jeongguk.

Last dance before the night ends.

“Do you like somebody?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung pulls away from where he was resting his head on his shoulder, trying to not seem startled, although his heart kicks into overdrive as soon as those words leave his lips. The scene with the strawberry plays in his head again, and the answer is yes. “No?” He says instead. “What makes you say that?”

“You always act like this when you start liking somebody,” Jeongguk explained, frowning as he leads Taehyung to the rhythm once he freezes in place.

“How?” His eyes stay fixed on Jeongguk’s, startled. “How do I act?” Taehyung asks, quietly.

Jeongguk ponders over his words, leaning his head sideways. “Shy?” He offers. “Absent-minded, lost in thought. Kind of like that,” then he makes a sudden turn, causing Taehyung to let out a surprised giggle.

“Don’t spin me, I drank too much.”

Jeongguk snickers, but still, he presses in close. “So. Who is it?”

“Huh?” Taehyung asks, already having moved on from the topic, too distracted by the way in which Jeongguk’s hands wrap around the entirety of his waist. Huh. There are many thoughts passing through Taehyung’s mind that are not at all appropriate for or connected to the situation at hand.

“Who do you like?”

“Are we in high school?”

“Hyung.” Jeongguk deadpans. “You can tell me.”

“Why are you so curious, huh?” Taehyung pushes on, feeling a little bit bolder because of the alcohol. “What is it to you?”

“Well,” Jeongguk hesitates, clearly not having thought ahead of time. “You’ve helped me with blind dates in the past, and stuff…” He seems to be clenching his teeth as he says so, grimace contorting his face in something almost pitiful to watch. “I just thought that maybe you’d want my help?”

Taehyung laughs. “Seriously?”

Jeongguk nods, not convincing at all.

“Your help?” Taehyung repeats himself. Then, just to tease him. “How is Park Minji doing?”

“Hyung.” Jeongguk says, stern, stopping them in place.

Taehyung cannot help it. He laughs. “Okay, okay. I get it. Sorry.”

“What does my dating history have to do with anything,” the younger mutters, starting to sway them again from side to side, not really dancing, only moving to the rhythm.

“Nothing, nothing,” Taehyung reassures, mouth formed around a laugh.

“Then just tell me.”

Taehyung huffs. It is not unlike Jeongguk to be stubborn about something, especially since he is lenient and soft most of the time, therefore when he puts his mind to something, he never lets it go. “There’s no one.” Taehyung chooses to say in the end, simply because it’s safer.

Jeongguk huffs. “Alright, then. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

Taehyung pulls away, looking Jeongguk in the face, feeling a bit offended. Was he such a terrible liar in front of him? “I just told you.”

“I know you, hyung,” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, a challenge for him to refute this statement.

Taehyung cannot, truly.

He sighs, letting his head fall upon Jeongguk’s shoulder once again.

“I guess you do.” He grumbles, more to himself than anything, which earns a soft laugh from the younger that rumbles through his chest, delicate and raspy, which only makes Taehyung even more upset and bothered. Why does everything done by Jeongguk leave him in such a state? It’s unfair.

People that he has been attracted to ever since the beginning didn’t have such an effect on him.

And perhaps it is the alcohol, or the soft press of Jeongguk’s body that creates this craving. This yearning towards what is so close to him, but so out of reach, even as he feels it solid and tangible in his palms. Perhaps he is made of want and unfulfilled desires, for his heart to choose such a person that has already burned a deep mark onto his soul. But it is so on brand for him. Would it have even worked if he kept his distance?

Jeongguk spins him around, pulls him back into his arms, and smiles.

Probably not.

#

If Taehyung were to be honest, there were few things in his life that have hurt as much as his recent realization.

He’s always been restless, chasing after life and being chased back. Always looking for new ways to experience it, until that spark slowly started to dim and settle down, until he has had enough encounters to drive him to the belief that he is simply not fit to have it his way. And he is at peace with it. But there are also a few things that he has ever wanted as much as he wants Jeongguk.

Days pass one by one just like this.

He writes his script, overlooks the forecast, avoids drinking coffee. He has gotten around to keeping a journal half a year ago, having had the urge to write down something as he recalls how his university counselor had encouraged him to do so. To keep up with changes in his routine, or feelings. Be able to see different perspectives shaped by who he was in the moment.

A month after his realization, he finally put it down on paper after a small… incident.

(He does not remember how they got there, but Jeongguk’s fingers were on his skin, around his waist, abruptly pulling him back before he would knock into someone. He had stared off at the person that almost bumped into Taehyung, looking irritated.

Taehyung had taken notice of the way his jaw clenched, of the tattooed forearm circling him, keeping him close. And that night, back in the comfort of his bed, his hand had travelled down, betraying him and all his intentions of holding back. He would regret this afterwards, but he was too far gone to care.

He had pressed his chest into the mattress, having let his hand caress up his chest, pressing down onto his nipple, tugging on it. And suddenly it was not his hand doing it. It was easy to imagine: him, spread wide open on Jeongguk’s lap as his chest pressed against Taehyung’s back, the warmth of his hand encompassing his length and caressing down his abdomen, pressing into the softness of Taehyung’s skin.

His breath fanning across his neck. He would probably tease him, touch him softly, dragging it out, whispering things that he knew would make Taehyung close his legs shut with embarrassment. Such as, “Good boy.” Taehyung keens into the mattress, his hand now sloppy and shaky, breath ragged and quick and broken. He would laugh, warm, teasing him for how wet and eager he was. “You take everything that I give you.”

And he does. He does.

This thought is what sends Taehyung over the edge, spilling into his hand, almost feeling the taste of Jeongguk’s whispers on his tongue.

It does not take long for his senses to come back.

They are friends, is what his mind tells him. This is wrong.

You might as well take it, it continues.

You’ll never get a taste of the real thing anyway.

Taehyung huffs against the pillow, guilt washing over him in waves. And yet, he still wants.)

When he opens his journal, the words stared back at him. Incriminating. “It’s happening again. I don’t know how people can go through something and not have their entire being consumed by it.”

He turns the page and refuses to look at that entry for another month.

Then Jeongguk does something so close and intimate that makes Taehyung crave him in his entirety. Then he would fall asleep on Taehyung’s couch, he would cook dinner for him, and trace that little spot behind his ear when he gets bored. He would lay on the carpet in his living room, and hug Taehyung’s knees when something embarrassing happened on television. He would massage Taehyung’s back, working out the knots, he would crawl in his bed, shirtless, and fall asleep halfway through his story. He would let his hand linger on the small of Taehyung’s back when in public and would blow air on the back of his neck just to raise goosebumps on his skin. He would crack his knuckles, would avoid eye-contact when shy and then say the most shameless things, whispered in Taehyung’s ear. Seoul is cold and gray at this time of the year, but Jeongguk is vivid and warm.

Taehyung is sitting on his bed, still clad in his outside sweater, bordering the edge between tipsy and drunk, with Jeongguk talking his ear off since he becomes more talkative when drunk. Taehyung does his best to keep his hands to himself, reminded of what he had done in the same bed that they are now sitting on while having entertained an unfathomable scenario.

“Remember how we met?”

“Hm,” Taehyung hums, stomach churning. “I guess so.”

“Do you?”

“I said hi in the parking lot. You introduced yourself. You were wearing a mask at the time.”

“Not that time. I mean when we first talked. Really talked.”

Jeongguk is being ridiculous again, and Taehyung laughs, entertained and tipsy. “I don’t know,” he rolls under the sheets. “Tell me.”

“Nothing special about that night. I was off, ready to go. You talked to me, I talked back. You wanted to talk more.” Jeongguk says it wistfully, like it is a great thing that Taehyung had the decency and initiative to strike up a conversation with one of his peers. “No one had wanted to, not before you.”

“Really?” Taehyung laughs, light and floaty. “I don’t get why.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk, tugs on Taehyung’s hair, looking down at him with a sort of intensity that is easily lost within the swirl of Taehyung’s drunken vision. “You really don’t.”

“Mm.”

“But you were the first one.”

Taehyung scoffs, “Someone’s got to be the first, I guess. That’s one of the things I know.”

Jeongguk stays silent for just a moment. “You do. You always come first.”

“You’re saying strange things,” Taehyung chuckles, and pokes Jeongguk’s stomach, and frowns at the hard muscle he feels there. So unfair.

“Stop it,” he catches Taehyung’s restless hand in his own, “and they’re not strange.” Jeongguk breathes in and out, then with a conspirational little huff in between his words, he confesses, “Between the two of us,” he puts a stray curl of Taehyung’s hair behind his ear. A small pause, a small gathering of words. “I think I know you better than I know myself.”

They are both drunk.

It should not create this caving feeling of longing in Taehyung’s heart, so, so deep it almost brings tears to his eyes.

Through his stinging vision, though, he wonders, how has this love been buried so deeply inside of him, and for so long. And why is it hitting him harder than anything he has ever had the misfortune of feeling.

Clearly, Jeongguk doesn’t know everything.

But what is even the more dizzying, the more mind-spinning, the more heart wrenching, is how it is not unexpected in the least. Because of course it is Jeongguk. Of course it is. This is just how it always ends, isn’t it? With him somehow being there.

Instead of saying anything immediately, he burrows his head against Jeongguk’s shoulder, hugging him tightly around the waist, hoping to convey all his affection without undressing all his wounds and desires. “I love you. I really do.”

He feels the way Jeongguk’s ribcage expands with the slow breath he takes in, a bit different than previous ones, but his big, warm hand still lands on the back of Taehyung’s head, gently stroking. “I know you do,” the ease with which everything is said between them is sweetened by alcohol, drained in it. Though there’s no less truth in his statement when Jeongguk declares, “I love you, too.”

They bask in it for only a moment, and Taehyung forgets about the shame that he is supposed to feel.

“Jeongguk?”

“Yes?”

The fragility of them is shattered completely when Taehyung declares, “I’m gonna throw up.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna throw up,” Taehyung repeats, and struggles out of the embrace.

He does not know how he manages to get up, but the next thing he knows he is hunching over.

Jeongguk helps him, of course he does, rubs his back as Taehyung spills over all his bad decisions in that toilet seat as Jeongguk makes sure his head does not fall down. “I’m sorry,” Taehyung announces, too hazy to be embarrassed but self-aware enough that he feels like he should.

“Aigo,” Jeongguk rubs his palm softly over his back, putting Taehyung at ease. “Why else am I here, hm?”

Taehyung thinks he might imagine the way his hand is caressing through Taehyung’s soft curls, taming them away from his forehead, rubbing the top of an ear affectionately, just because. “What use do I have otherwise,” Jeongguk says, and it is stilted, distorted by alcohol, but it still makes Taehyung’s heart stir painfully in his chest.

“Don’t go.” Taehyung pleads, and it should have sounded petulant and spoiled, but it comes out pathetically soft and full of misplaced longing in this situation.

“I won’t.”

Taehyung keeps leaning over the toilet, and the hand on his back makes him shiver like it never had before. Taehyung cannot take it back. He has always been meant to love people—too bad this time he cannot swallow it all down.

#

Act II: hook, line, sinker. Piece in three scenes detailing how Kim Taehyung met Jeon Jeongguk, and how, simultaneously, Jeon Jeongguk falls in love.

The hook, now that is a scene that Taehyung does not remember very well.

It had been one of those bone-weary nights, his sleeves already rolled up, hair in need of a good wash and eyelids fluttering closed. He was in the staff side room, in which he would stash his cigarettes and coat and hope to not have too many awkward silences next to his coworkers, while pretending someone texted him when it was just him looking over Jimin’s reminder that it is his turn to buy toilet paper.

Jeongguk is in the hallway, ready to come in, just as Taehyung is about to leave.

And he does not know what drives him to it, because he is chatty, he is open, he truly is, but Jeongguk has always been reserved. And Taehyung respects boundaries. But he sees the deep set of his shoulders as he makes his way to the door, and something from deep within him calls out, “Tough day, huh?”

Jeongguk’s shoulders instantly drop as he shoots him a glance, then he cracks his neck, as if for good measure. “You’ve no idea. Mrs. Choi is out to get me; I truly believe it.” The line of his neck is lean and powerful, with a set of subtle ink peeking through—Taehyung averts his eyes.

“Right?” Taehyung exhales in a breath, a bit excited to know someone shares a grievance with him about the same person. “She runs this place like it’s the navy. I really don’t fuck with that.”

Jeongguk lets out an amused breath, and it feels polite more than anything. “I kinda admire her resolve, though. It takes a lot of determination to always hold your ground like that.”

“I guess I see what you mean,” Taehyung agrees. “But still, never hurts to make a few observations about people,” he lilts playfully, leaning on the back of his heels, a small, innocent word to use instead of gossip.

Jeongguk shoots him a look, an amused little smile curling on his lips. “Observations?”

“Yessir.” Taehyung says, “If we’re gonna talk, let’s go in, it’s awkward in the hallway.”

And the clear surprise that colors Jeongguk’s face is expected, knowing that Taehyung was about to go, but he chose to go back on his own just to have an extended little chat. The laughs they get out of it is worth the worry Taehyung had felt when calling out to Jeongguk.

Hook.  

#

Taehyung has this thing, in which he can recall monumental happenings in his life, especially with the people that he loves. There is always a shift in someone when you really get to know them, when you break through that first wall, through that first dam, when everything that’s really inside of them overflows and spills out.

His and Jeongguk’s shift happens like this.

Back in the last year of college, when their words were still awkward and hands were still hesitant, they had their internship at the same company, as they pursued similar pathways, and got to share a few conversations, a few glances, a few moments. But nothing as monumental as this.

It was after a work dinner, where interns were invited as well. It was raining and Jeongguk came in soaked, miserable about his scooter and its faulty break, he didn’t get to drive all the way through. He remembers his cold skin, the press of it against Taehyung’s own as he passed a glass to him, and never realized even back then that this type of awareness towards him was only the root of something so much larger than life.

Everybody called a taxi, they were both struggling students, so only God knows how much you pay for a ride in downtown Seoul to get from one end to the other.

“You know,” he had called out into the air, as Jeongguk kept Taehyung company when the latter was smoking his last cigarette of the night (it wasn’t the last). “I got a bike of my own. I could give you a ride.”

Jeongguk had looked at him, surprised, but did not turn him down.

When they got to the side of the building, and they saw Taehyung’s actual bright red bike—because he used to be into embarrassing things like that—his eyebrows only rose high. “You actually got a bike.”

“That’s what I told you, didn’t I?” Taehyung teases, though he understands the confusion. “You down or?” He asks, holding out the only helmet he got towards Jeongguk, wondering if he’ll really be able to pull through the awkwardness that will come with rejection.

It doesn’t come. Somehow, Jeongguk has never been able to refuse him, even when all they knew was each other’s name and the common acknowledgement of a shared dream.

“You only got one?” Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow, securing the helmet on.

“I don’t need it,” Taehyung tells him. They are still wearing their nice clothes, and Jeongguk’s dress shirt has its sleeves up, mostly dried off. “Wait,” Taehyung says, dutifully digging through his backpack. “Wear this, it’s cold outside.” He extends a warm, cream sweater, one of Taehyung’s favorites, and is pleased to see that Jeongguk accepts it only after a slight hesitance. “Hold on tight,” he encourages him, and when Taehyung’s waist is encircled, Jeongguk’s hands are no longer cold, but pleasantly warm. And hesitant. Back then, everything about them was like this.

They hadn’t yet found that balance, despite their shared moments of authenticity and laughter.

Taehyung initially struggles to pull through the driveway, and almost drives them into a ditch when Jeongguk leans too hard on his left side. They both shout when a car honks at them, and they must stop and drive back because Jeongguk drops his keys.

Their conversation is slow, and perhaps Taehyung is a bit drunk on exhilaration and the cold night air when he confesses. “I feel like I could tell you anything.” Their way is winding through a dim lit park on the outskirts of the neighborhood. “You make my time here more bearable, to be honest.”

“Really?” Jeongguk had uttered after a long moment of silence, probably taking the words in.

“Really,” Taehyung had confirmed, a little soft sigh winding itself from under his soul. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Jeongguk huffs out a laugh and tightens his hold on Taehyung. “I know. You wouldn’t.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? You don’t really know me.”

“I don’t think it’s weird.” He is quick to reassure. Then softer, with an edge of something sweet. “And I don’t think that I would mind. Getting to know you, I mean.”

After having dropped Jeongguk off, their clothes are dry, and Taehyung gives Jeongguk a tentative hug, which the other boy awkwardly clings to.

“Don’t catch a cold,” Taehyung calls out to him, rings the bell twice, and then cycles away without waiting for a reply. Ever since then, Jeongguk has been visiting him in his free windows of time, bringing him tea and small little treats. They’ve spent a lot of nights out, pressed into each other’s space, sharing stories that only they could find funny, and with time, something beautiful had been built between them. No more painful silences, no more hesitant touches, no more inhibitions.

Back then, he did not know he would ever have to face such a discovery.

Line.

#

Somewhere after graduation, in between the evenings.

“Would you have minded?” Taehyung asks, over the lamp light.

Jeongguk looked somewhat tortured when asked about this. And Taehyung wondered if it was something he said, or perhaps something he did.

“No, it’s alright. Of course I don’t mind. It’s you.”

“And my boyfriend,” Taehyung jokes. And, ah, there it is again. That slight twitch of his eyebrow, the slow steadying breath he takes, as if he is trying his best to pull himself together. Perhaps even Jeongguk can feel lonely? Perhaps Taehyung could do something about it.

“And your boyfriend,” he says, only just slightly smiling. It feels like it is for his sake. He drops another card on the table, and Taehyung can only then notice that he has been losing. “I win,” Jeongguk announces, pulling the mountain of candy that all of the boys acquired in this round.

Seokjin and Hoseok were the first ones to be eliminated, followed by Yoongi, Namjoon, and then Jimin. The rest of them are in the kitchen, their voices carrying over the sound of the kettle and of the noodles Yoongi is cooking for all of them.

When Jimin comes back, he sits on the side of the couch, looking over at the finished game. “You won? You really got it all, don’t you, Jeonggukie?”

Jeongguk only tongues the inside of his cheek, letting his head fall to the side in silent contemplation. “Not even close,” he announces, letting his dark, fluttery eyes linger briefly over Taehyung.

When he had asked, a few months later, when his plan about the blind dates had only started to take root, about what Jeongguk prefers in someone he had simply answered, someone that can be a lover and a friend.

Then, when Taehyung announced that he and his boyfriend broke up, it was over a takeout dinner of jajangmyeon. Jeongguk is not really looking at him when Taehyung gives out the reason, filled with a shrug full of grief for what could have been, “We just weren’t right for each other.”

Jeongguk would finally look up, soft and caring, eyes containing more depth and more conviction than Taehyung knew how to handle. “Yeah. You weren’t.”

Sinker.

#

Act III: question mark.

Now. It is like they are back to square one. All because of Taehyung’s stupid discovery.

He does not know how to talk to Jeongguk anymore, does not remember how to look him in the eye without trembling.

And at the end of the day, this is the problem. Taehyung is fortunate enough to have people in his life that see him for who he is, for what he does, for the things he stands for. Romance has never been his strong suite. Even if no one can teach someone how to love.

It is unfortunate how often others choose to settle for a love that doesn’t burn within them.

Taehyung has always had a fault in that he supposes. The desire inside of him is too big of a monster to be simply chained down, caged in; he cannot do things in halves. When he loves, it is an all-consuming thing. Yoongi had told him once, in one of their rare one-on-one hangouts, while even he was battling against his drunk daze, he had proclaimed something like, “The world is made up of people who know love, and those who don’t.” It was said in passing, but Taehyung had felt those words so profoundly, he has found himself reciting them from time to time, like a well-learned lesson.

This time, as well.

“My boyfriend does the same,” Yoona says, but instead of making it seem like an endearing little trait, she slouches over. “Sometimes I try to tell him against it, but he never listens to me. And I’m too tired to argue, I’m serious.”

“So, you just let it go?” Jinri asks her, leaning over the table with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mn,” Yoona hums, still slouched over, with no interest of making a big deal out of it. But still looking so disheartened.

“You know,” Taehyung starts, “This is not my place, but no one that matters in your life should make you feel unimportant.” Taehyung has a strong outlook towards life, still believes in deceptively innocent things, like true love, living a fulfilling life, being able to settle down, and having his own family. Although there weren’t many open doors, he still chooses to look through the window.

“It’s really not that simple, you know.” She reasons, and he immediately senses the way she has put her guard up. “Besides, I’ve invested so much in this relationship. I don’t want to go through building another again, it’s too much of a hassle.”

The world doesn’t end here, but Taehyung feels like he really does not understand relationships.

He does not know all the details of Yoona’s, and so far, he is not looking forward to finding out more—it’ll only raise an argument between them, he is aware. It is only natural for people to need other people, but it is easy to be deceived in these cases, and to believe that this is the kind of situation you should settle for because it offers you the assurance that you are not alone, the reassurance of companionship.

Therefore, people date people they don’t really like, much less deeply love.

And now, no matter the fact that he did not push it to an extreme, he understands why he shouldn’t have mingled in Jeongguk’s personal affairs anyway. No matter his good intentions, he shouldn’t have gotten so involved.

In the end, it has come to chase him around in more ways than one. But no matter. He would have never pushed anyone to settle for anything less than what speaks deeply to their heart.

“That’s unfortunate,” Jinri settles for, for the both of them.

Taehyung still doesn’t get it. And he knows he has a fault in that.

#

Him and Jimin are out on a walk, having taken Yeontan with them, playing fetch as sunset nears its time. That’s when they turn to the subject of Jeon Jeongguk and the suddenness of Taehyung giving up his wingman privileges.

“Well, I bet he feels relieved, knowing how much he hated it.”

Hated.

“Hated it?” Taehyung says as much, which makes Jimin turn his attention towards him. He drops the ball, and the two of them are now standing at an awkward stand still in the middle of the grassy hill.

“I mean,” Jimin hesitates. “You must’ve known.”

“I know he isn’t the most sociable person, but I didn’t know he hated going on those dates. You know I would’ve never pushed him if I knew it, right?”

Jimin frowns. “Well, maybe you should’ve asked him beforehand. Properly.”

Taehyung drops his hand, words failing him, because he knows that it is true. Jimin seems to catch on to this because his words and body language immediately soften. “Look, Tae,” he starts, still in his conviction. “At least the whole thing’s over. If it bothers you, you should talk to Jeongguk about it. There’s no shame.” He comes in close, petting the top of his head.

Shame. Again, that word.

He sighs. “I know, Jimin.”

“Hey,” he calls out, hand threading through his hair, brushing it back into place after the wind knocked it out of order. “Have you finally realized? Your feelings for him. Is this what it is about?”

Taehyung freezes. “How?”

Jimin laughs. “Oh, please,” he caresses his cheek. “Taehyung-ah, if I can’t read you, then truly nobody else in this world can.”

Taehyung lets his forehead fall against Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m so screwed.”

“You’re not.”

“What do I do?”

“Talk to him.”

Taehyung sulks. “No.”

“Then suffer.” Jimin pulls away and takes the ball back. “Let’s go we don’t have all day.”

Taehyung shuffles his feet but still goes along with it. What else can he do?

#

Everything has been so slow between them. The rupture could have been fixed, but too many words were left unspoken. And now, they rarely talk, and when they do, nothing much is said. Jeongguk doesn’t touch him anymore, and after work they linger in the doorways, not sure if they should talk some more. At first, they don’t.

And Taehyung has never felt as much of a coward as he does right now.

He hates that he needs so much distance from Jeongguk, and it is unfair how he hates the way he cannot control this feeling, and it is unfair how none of it is Jeongguk’s fault. He would never regret meeting Jeongguk, loving him, giving his heart away, but he still wishes it would be easier to breathe through it.

Taehyung thinks it could have been so much easier if he was able to feel affection, love and desire like a normal person. But for him, it is all-consuming. And it is all he has ever known, so when he came to repress all these urges, build a distance, keep those feelings to himself to slowly wither his heart away, it did not come as a surprise.

But Jeongguk.

It is all so annoying, he is so annoying, because he was able to break through everything, wall after wall, dam after dam. And he just doesn’t stop.

Friday nights sometimes end in office dinners, and the private room that has been rented tonight for them is nice. It is warm, and his colleagues loosened up, cracking jokes about the superiors, ranking who is the most annoying from the other departments, playing the nunchi game.

Taehyung is sitting next to Jeongguk, the latter never taking any seat too far away from him on any occasion. This time is no different. He feels on edge, carefully avoiding Jeongguk’s gaze, heart squeezing into itself like the leaves of a mimosa.

After a round of games, Jeongguk finds it in himself to lean into his space. “I know something’s wrong.” He says, the sleeves of his dress shirt pulled over his forearms, distracting Taehyung from his act of resistance.

“Why would you think that?” Taehyung laughs, and it is a bit stilted and nervous, and he cannot blame Jeongguk for seeing right through it.

“Because you won’t even look me in the eye anymore, Taehyung-ah,” Jeongguk says, getting closer, fingers reaching out, instinctively craving the two of them close.

“Yah,” Taehyung murmurs half-heartedly, but does not protest when turns his face around with a finger, still so gentle despite everything. “I’m still your hyung.”

“Then look me in the eye and say it.”

“Jeongguk.” Taehyung says and tries to be firm. “I’m still your hyung.” His voice does not tremble, sure and steady, but the way the vowels soften around those words betray just how emotional he is about this. And Taehyung’s face burns with shame. At the knowledge that he is keeping a secret that has burnt such a deep mark between them.

“Hyung.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“What? Why would I?”

“I don’t know. You won’t talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“Hyung.”

Taehyung feels his sanity fraying at the edges, and he pauses. He breathes in. “Why did you never tell me you didn’t want to go on those dates?”

The silence that followed does not offer Taehyung any answer. Around them, the chatter continues, but all the heat, all the people, all the noise fades, separating this moment from the rest of the world.

“Who told you that?”

“I—why! How is this relevant?” Jeongguk does not relent, staring at him stubbornly. “Jimin did.”

“What else did he tell you?” He frowns, taking on a stance that is a lot more rigid, astute even.

“Nothing!” Taehyung frowns. “Did he need to?”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “No.” He offers with hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

The admittance makes Taehyung’s shoulders relax. “You know I wouldn’t have ever done it if you hated it so much, right?”

“I didn’t… hate it.” Yet from his stance and his words, it is clear that something in the mix was not quite right. Perhaps his approach? Was it the people? Did it truly matter, at the end of the day? “I just have a hard time with strangers. You know that.”

“I didn’t mean to force anything on you.”

“I know. I never really said no.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. I should have known. I’m sorry.”

“Hyung. I didn’t hate it.”

Still, Taehyung feels guilty. “Then let me buy dinner for you this week. So I can apologize properly.”

Jeongguk huffs, amused and fond. “Alright then.” He finally seems mollified enough, hence why his hands go around the couch Taehyung is sitting on, finally indulging in that crumb of closeness between them.

Obviously, Taehyung does not know that the catalyst of them being brought together comes in the form of… whatever this was. At a barbecue place. When everyone is busy chatting, and they fade into the background and even Taehyung has taken a bit of soju. Jeongguk leans into him again, the smell of his perfume so familiar, it makes Taehyung dizzy with longing.

“Maybe you should go easy tonight,” Jeongguk tells him, leaning over the table to put aside the bottle of alcohol, not out of reach but just enough to make a statement. His eyes flicker down shortly, but it’s quick, easy to miss. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

Taehyung frowns, and barely resists the urge of leaning back into Jeongguk’s space once he moves away. “I don’t get sick.” He tries not to sound offended, but it must seem that way because Jeongguk raises an inquisitive eyebrow, mouth slightly curling up.

“So you don’t remember, then,” the younger says, placing his chin on his hand as he looks back at Taehyung, a gleeful type of amusement shining in his eyes. “And you say you’re not bad with alcohol.”

“I’m… not.” Taehyung says, and takes a sip of his orange juice, and makes sure to pointedly ignore Jeongguk’s triumphant look. “I just have other priorities about remembering stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like the moments when you weren’t so annoying. Those I enjoy the most.”

Jeongguk leans in, dangerously close. Close enough that Taehyung throws a look around himself, frenzied that someone might notice what he notices too, now. Jeongguk craning his neck towards him, lips dangerously close to his ear, hand splaying open on his thighs so he could reach better—but everyone’s become nothing more than an awareness, Jeongguk taking up all the space in his mind.

He exhales a slow, teasing breath against Taehyung’s ear, making Taehyung draw his shoulder up. “I thought you enjoyed me the most,” he snickers, not able to keep his serious façade.

Taehyung scrunches his nose at the cold shiver that is sent down his spine. “Ah, hyung,” he slaps Jeongguk’s chest playfully, and only after he said it does he register his words fully.

They both freeze.

Jeongguk looks startled over at Taehyung.

“You,” he tries to say, but Jimin shouting about making a toast drowns the rest of it.

Taehyung straightens up, trying to ignore the embarrassment that creeps up his neck. Jeongguk, more often than not, acts as if he is older than Taehyung, as if he, somehow, knows what’s best, and he has that indulgent sort of streak that always gets Taehyung acting spoiled. It’s not his fault. In between most of his circles of friends, he is younger, if not the youngest. It’s a habit.

“Just eat up,” Jeongguk eventually tells him, clearing his throat.

They don’t look at each other for the rest of the night.

Taehyung feels that shame rising in his throat again, consuming him.

#

When they part ways to go home, Jeongguk hugs him, the first time he has done so in a week, deterred by Taehyung’s awkward dance. “Get home safe.”

He does not add the usual hyung at the end, and God Taehyung feels his heart kicking into overdrive. Embarrassment is not the proper word anymore. He wishes to hide himself forever.

“You, too.” Taehyung whispers into the material of his coat, leathery and cold.  

“Do you… I mean.” He takes a pause. “Never mind.” Jeongguk’s smile is there, small and stilted. God. He screwed this one over, too.

#

This should not have happened.

How could this happen.

Out of all the things. Taehyung just had to go ahead and call him hyung out of all things.

Is it even such a big deal? It must have been. From the way heat had swooped in and blushed Taehyung’s cheeks and ears. It must have been, from the way Jeongguk had turned around, covering his mouth with his palm as he looked sideways, leg bouncing up and down, fidgety, and distant. Taehyung was left staring at the plates in front of him, a confused sort of arousal flooding his head.

Did he—God—did he like it?

He must have. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent the whole shower time fingering himself open on the thought of Jeongguk calling himself hyung as he takes Taehyung from behind. God, he thinks to himself again, dripping wet and hot with a blush that burns brighter the longer he hears the squelch of his own fingers. He will never recover from this. “That’s it.” He imagines Jeongguk’s voice, the words clear and evenly shaped in his mind. “Come for hyung.”

Taehyung comes so hard; his legs shake for five whole minutes. He presses his cheek against the cold wall of the shower, and breathes in.

If only all their friends were not in the same house as them.

You see, a month after Chuseok, the seven of them hold their annual weekend trip to Jeju Island. After having split the rooms in three, Jimin paired with Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon altogether, and that left Taehyung with, you guessed it, Jeongguk. Of course, he took it like a champ. Just the image of Jeongguk at the hotel’s pool shirtless drove him to take an early shower tonight. Like a champ.

When Taehyung comes out, the rest of them are sitting at the low table in the common room, playing cards and betting on small prices.

He takes the only spot available, which happens to be next to Jeongguk right by the corner of the table. “You’ve been taking a while,” Jeongguk says, leaning back on his palms, and there is a small smile playing at his lips. He couldn’t know what Taehyung had been doing, but still, embarrassment raises up in his throat as he sits down. Then, leaning over, Jeongguk whispers like a dirty secret. “I missed you.”

Taehyung pushes at his shoulder, trying to mask his embarrassment, which only makes the younger smile.

“I fold,” Hoseok lets his cards fall to the table, after having stared in Yoongi’s eyes for more than half a minute.

Yoongi smiles, pleased, and reveals his hand. Hoseok would have won had he not folded, which makes him let out a groan as he lays down on the floor.

“Better luck next time, Hob-ah,” Namjoon says, patting him on the back.

Yoongi is laughing as he pulls all the won bills towards himself.

“You have an issue,” Jimin points towards him.

“Perhaps.”

They switch to another game, and Jeongguk leans into the heat that is Taehyung’s body after a shower. Halfway through it, he lets his big, warm hand rest on the upper part of his thigh as he laughs, heat passing through the silk of his pants. A gesture that he has done millions of times before. But none of them had included an oversensitive, lovestruck Taehyung.

He immediately jostles, banging his knee against the table.

“Are you okay?” Jeongguk immediately asks, surprised at the development.

“I’m fine,” Taehyung offers in return.

All the eyes at the table turn towards him, which makes Taehyung rub his knee, all self-conscious. Jimin swallows a piece of dry fruit to cover up his snort.

“Don’t cheat, Taehyung-ah,” Seokjin tells him.

“I wasn’t.” He counters.

Jeongguk shoots him a bizarre look, confused but intrigued.

The whole exchange is short, not something to think too deeply about. So why is it the only thing on Jeongguk’s mind for the rest of the upcoming game? Clearly, something has changed. He thinks back to the company dinner from yesterday. Could it… he should not get his hopes up. It’s been years and Taehyung hasn’t shown any interest in him, this won’t change anything.

“I fold,” Jeongguk announces, and sits back to watch the rest of the game.

That is why, when he puts his hand back on Taehyung’s thigh, he is doing his best to make it seem casual.

He gauges Taehyung’s reaction, seeing him tense the base of his back, and feeling his thigh tremble with the force of trying to sit unmoved, and the heat that blooms high up on his cheeks. Oh, oh, Jeongguk thinks, unsure almost. So, this is what this is all about. Why he had reacted so powerfully to accidentally calling Jeongguk “hyung”, the avoidance, the shyness that made his eyes flit around the room as if he had been cornered.

The Jeongguk on the outside seems calm and poised, keeping a steady hand on Taehyung, but the Jeongguk in his mind throws up from the pure excitement that flies through him.

Taehyung cannot concentrate for even a second. It is a miracle he even makes it through the rest of the game.

A few hours later, the games end with Seokjin taking most of the wins, and thus they decide who will cook breakfast tomorrow. Taehyung is automatically put on dishes duty since he is the only one that actually enjoys it. Halfway through, Jimin pulls out a soju bottle. And then another. When Taehyung refuses to take more than two shots, Jeongguk seems to understand that he was not in a drinking mood tonight, so they retreat to their room faster than anybody else. From what he knows about them, they will pass out sooner or later—all of them were growing old, he thinks with fondness.

Him and Jeongguk get ready for sleep in tentative silence, and he can feel the inquisitive looks the younger keeps throwing his way. Taehyung turns off the center light and lights up the small lamps by their bed.

Sharing a bed is no big deal. No big deal.

When he makes a move to turn back around, he feels the chain of his necklace catching onto his collar, and he cannot pull out since he cannot turn the clasp around.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung calls out to him, huffing.

“Yes?” Jeongguk recenters himself towards him from where he was throwing half the pillows towards Taehyung’s side, knowing the elder prefers it this way.

“My necklace got stuck.”

Jeongguk comes towards him, hands outstretched. He pulls down his collar, fumbles around a little bit, then, his hands halt. As if preparing for something.

“Jeongguk?” He calls out, which seems to jostle the younger from his reverie. “Aren’t you going to help me?” He turns his head around to look at him.

“I will,” Jeongguk says, as if it wasn’t even a question. Taehyung is deeply satisfied. “If…” a silence, Jeongguk hesitates over the shape of his words, and it feels charged and intentional, a little bit foolish even. “If you call me hyung again.” It is supposed to be a joke, but Taehyung has caught onto the very subtle note of breathiness that latches onto Jeongguk’s tone, onto the way his eyes are roaming all over his face.

His breath hitches in his throat, feeling the weight of something thrilling in the face of it.

So, what if Taehyung were to play into his own desires for once.

Jeongguk must expect a reluctant, confused frown, an eyeroll, or just being ignored. He does not expect Taehyung to lean over into his space, to place his palms over his thighs, and look up at him from under his impossibly dark eyelashes. Just from that much, Jeongguk gulps, and Taehyung follows the line of his adam apple with an intrigued gaze. “Hyung,” Taehyung, against all expectations, whispers softly. “Would you please help me?”

All of Jeongguk’s blood rushes south so fast, it is almost pathetic.

“How would you like for hyung to help you?” Jeongguk finds the strength in his voice, because he is not passing this opportunity.

Taehyung smiles, and then turns around. “The necklace is stuck.” He offers, and feels the first press of Jeongguk’s fingers on the back of his neck.

“Get up.”

Taehyung follows right through, turning around and facing the wall in their room as Jeongguk works behind him.

“Here?” Jeongguk asks, and softly starts to untangle the silver cord. It turns out he only needed a few moments to do it, but still he leans over, breath fanning openly over Taehyung’s nape. “Or here?” The first press of his lips comes unexpectedly and makes the elder’s body tense up with an anticipation that he has never experienced in his life.

Taehyung’s shoulders draw up, softly jerking away from the warm touch. “Is this okay?” Jeongguk is quick to ask.

Tentatively, the elder turns around, and when he wants to gauge the younger’s reaction, he gets an armful of him, clinging to his waist. “It’s fine,” he offers back, all that bravado from before falling from his fingers like sand once he gets to see Jeongguk up close, real, and breathing. He feels defenseless, rendered useless in the face of his person.

Jeongguk’s eyes flit down to his lips. Lust? Convenience? Affection?

Taehyung wants to give in all the same, feeling his face burning, heart hammering in his throat, heat building up at the base of his hips.

“Hey.”

Jeongguk smiles, pulling a strand of hair behind Taehyung’s ear. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” Taehyung repeats himself, simply because he does not know how to proceed.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeongguk asks, and the words rattle through Taehyung’s ribcage.

If he let Jeongguk kiss him, nothing would be the same. He would not be able to take anything back and would have to live with the knowledge of what it feels like to dive headfirst into the unknown and kiss him. If finding out his own feelings for Jeongguk run this deep has sent him on an emotional turmoil to last half of a lifetime, this culminating moment in which he finally gets to kiss him will alter him for life. And perhaps he is being ridiculous again.

“Yes, that, uh,” he uncharacteristically stutters, and Jeongguk looks as if he is barely containing himself. “Yes.”

At the first contact, his head dips back from the force, Jeongguk leaning all up in his face as if trying to steal the air from his lungs. It is wet and messy once he opens his mouth, giving a tentative exhale through his nose, grounding his feet once he feels how they slowly start moving towards the wall. Jeongguk’s tongue is relentless, his hand placing itself at the edge of his jaw, and Taehyung can only scrunch his eyes shut. Give all that he can give, take all that he is allowed to.

“Tae,” Jeongguk whispers into the darkness between them, nose nudging into Taehyung’s cheek as the elder turns his head away, overwhelmed, shy, breathless.

“Yeah?” He exhales.

“What are we doing?”

Taehyung swallows, the back of his head leaning against the wall. “Something that I’ve wanted to do for a while,” his voice shakes, deep and scratchy.

Jeongguk seems to stand still for a moment in time, taking in this information. Taehyung is a fool, but he is no fool when it comes to reading Jeongguk when it matters. He sees the hope blossoming on his face, the way his breath hitches in his throat.

“How long?” He questions, desperation clinging to his voice. For so long, Jeongguk no longer held any hope. He needs to tell him, that he, for Taehyung, he really—Jeongguk’s heart seizes in his chest.

Taehyung’s breath shudders in him. “A few months now,” he says, watching as Jeongguk’s eyebrows give in, frowning in surprise. And even as it pains him to admit it, he still says, “It’s… I’m not very good at this. At love. I always want too much and I…” He cuts himself off. Because this is it, isn’t it? How much he craves to be touched, but how ashamed he is of someone actually looking, of actually taking. Always searching for something that will crush the life out of him. Because it is what he wants.

“You are not a tragic story, hyung,” Jeongguk tells him, cupping his face gently. “You are alive. You have wants and needs and desires like all of us.”

Taehyung’s lip wobbles, and he looks down. “Yes.”

“If it matters, I’ve always felt this way about you,” Jeongguk says around a smile, which drives Taehyung to look at him in surprise. “There has never been a day in which I wouldn’t imagine what it would be like to have you. I even said yes to the blind dates, because then, at least, you would only keep your eyes on me. It brought me closer to you.”

“I’ve always been here.”

“Hm.” Jeongguk hums, pressing a soft kiss against his temple. “Not in the way I’ve wanted you to be.”

Taehyung’s lips part, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry, Jeonggukie,” he clings to his shirt, eyes growing wet with alarming speed. “It was presumptuous of me. To believe that I knew what you needed.”

“I enjoyed the care and attention,” Jeongguk placates him, craning his neck down to press a sweet kiss against the juncture between Taehyung’s neck and collarbone. “It doesn’t matter now,” he whispers. “We’ve found our way to each other.”

Taehyung laughs, overwhelmed by affection, desire and happiness.

“Jeongguk,” he says, around the softness in his mouth. Then, just to test the waters. “Hyung?”

Jeongguk shoots to attention immediately, eyes falling onto the curve of Taehyung’s lips, as if they uttered the most captivating phrase in history. It is heady. How openly he seems to want Taehyung, and how he desires to hold this one difference between them and turn it around. It is a bit humiliating, but Taehyung thinks he can learn to enjoy the taste of it. He does not know how he has never caught on until now, how he had been so busy protecting himself from the one that had never looked for ways to harm him.

“Do you want to have fun with me?” He offers, softly raising the material of his shirt, arching his back off the wall, revealing all that unmarked skin that Jeongguk seemed to have a special inclination towards.

Jeongguk leans down into the kiss first, sloppy, and desperate, hands overtaking Taehyung’s spot on his chest, cupping in the space between his thumb and forefinger the soft lines of his pecks, fingers overtaking a large space over his lithe form. Taehyung smiles into the kiss, accepting the invasion of all that is Jeongguk into his orbit, of his knee pressing in between his legs, thumbs rubbing his nipples.

“Ah,” Taehyung lets out, surprised.

“Taehyung-ah,” Jeongguk says, easily incorporating banmal into his speech. “Bed?”

Taehyung melts against his mouth, sliding down the wall. “Yes, please.”

They stumble to bed in a frenzy.

Jeongguk pulls Taehyung’s legs up, and leans over, licking over the seam of his lips shamelessly. At the action, Taehyung’s thighs clench from where they wound up around Jeongguk’s thin, but sturdy, waist, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeongguk. So, when the latter dives in to capture his lips in a well-deserved, much deeper kiss, he makes sure to dig his fingers into the plushness of those thighs.

The way he leans in makes Taehyung dip his neck back from the force, but the secure way with which Jeongguk is holding the back of his head stops any painful impact before it could happen. His heart is beating so fast, his blood surging through his veins at alarming speed, knowing he is finally getting a taste of what he has wanted for so long. And suddenly it is not enough to only feel the press of his lips, he wants to feel the ghost of his touch in his hips, his thighs, in his body, in his hair.

“Ah, h—” He then cuts himself off.

“Say it,” Jeongguk says, and he gathers Taehyung’s shirt in his grip, gathering the material all the way up to his collarbones from where it had fallen.

Taehyung trembles at the soft press of lips across his chest, down his abdomen. “What?” He questions, looking down at Jeongguk, only to clamp his legs shut at the sight that greets him. The younger has his hair mussed up, eyebrow piercing glinting in the lowlight, eyes sharp with desire and mouth cherry red.

As always, he sees right through him. “Call me hyung,” Jeongguk says, rubbing little circles down his hipbones.

Taehyung cants his hips up on accident at his words, turned on. “Hyung,” he tests out, then a bit airier, “Hyung. Touch me, please.”

Jeongguk smiles, all the way pleased with what he got. “I will,” he kisses down Taehyung’s waistband. “Hyung will touch you. What do you want?” Jeongguk asks, such an open, vulnerable question to ask as he moves to cup his face, holding it in his palms as he refuses to take his eyes off him.

“I—” Taehyung hesitates, skittish and evasive.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” Jeongguk breathes out, eyes soft and consuming. Taehyung very much wants to. “I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

Vulnerability builds trust. And Taehyung wants, for once, to undress all his wounds and desires, leave them up for the taking. “I like it when you compliment me. And tell me how well I am doing,” he starts. At which Jeongguk nods, taking it all in. Then, a lip bite, a small shimmying of hips to get comfortable where Jeongguk’s hard cock is pressing against his thigh. “I like the feel of being full.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jeongguk lets out, short of breath. “Yeah, yeah, okay, we can fix that.”

When his hand dips down, coated in lube, he frowns at the lack of resistance. “You’re so soft down here,” he points out, which is so embarrassing, the way he remarks on it so simply—it makes Taehyung’s shoulders raise up to his ears. “Did you play with yourself today? Don’t lie to me, Taehyung.”

He exhales, pleased by the firm tone in Jeongguk’s voice. “Yes,” he lets out, words shaky. “I couldn’t help it.”

Jeongguk’s breath shudders. “Fuck,” his voice is low and scratchy, turned on. “What were you thinking about?” The second finger breaches Taehyung’s hole, teasing around his rim before pushing in slowly.

Taehyung keens at the teasing touch. “Your hands.”

“You were thinking about my hands?” Jeongguk seems amused as he says so. “Was I good?”

“Gh—Jeongguk.” Taehyung jolts as he crooks his fingers inside of him.

“I’ll take it as a yes,” Jeongguk smiles, huffing.

Halfway through, Jeongguk is three fingers deep in him, splaying his palm on his abdomen, shirt bunched up all the way to his armpits. The wet sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of him bring little zaps of electricity running through Taehyung’s body.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung gasps, mouth falling open in slack-jawed awe, canting his hips down forcefully.

“Be patient,” Jeongguk instructs him gently.

“Hyung,” Taehyung whines, just because he feels like stringing him along.

“Keep your legs open,” Jeongguk tells him, not rising to the bait, leaning over him, and then pressing his lips on his neck as he breathes down his throat, fingers relentless in their pursuit to open him up. Before he knows it, Taehyung is keening, spreading his thighs, never having imagined how good it feels to be fingered open like this, wet and messy, with Jeongguk whispering into his ear. “Good job, just like that.”

It is all the more shameful, the way his body reacts to it, soft and pliant and ready to please. Taehyung feels himself blushing, little ah ah ahs getting punched out of him, hair bouncing atop the pillow as he holds on to the bedsheets. “Please—hn,” he gasps out. “Just fuck me.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk answers contemplative. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hyung?” Taehyung jumps to the opportunity, and the eagerness makes Jeongguk huff with amusement and Taehyung blush furiously. Still, he feels warm, safe, floaty. “Please, hyung, fuck me.”

Jeongguk lets his eyes linger over his face, tongue dipping out to tug at his piercing, making those sheer dimples of his appear as he regards Taehyung closely. “Fuck. Alright, alright,” he indulges, and pulls his fingers out, the action letting out an obscene squelch. “Hyung will fuck you now.” Then he wipes his lube covered fingers atop Taehyung’s hole, making the latter flinch and moan.

It is so embarrassing, yet Taehyung revels in it. Loves the feeling of it.

“You’re so good,” Jeongguk murmurs light and soft, in awe, holding his leg over his shoulder, the other over his thigh as he pushes in. Taehyung almost wants to cry at the feeling, finally filled up, paired with the reassurance of Jeongguk’s voice. “So wet,” he murmurs, sighing.

Jeongguk moves hard and fast, holding Taehyung’s legs open, fingers digging into the skin of his thigh. Taehyung would have never expected to feel such desire running through his veins, legs trembling. The wet sound of it, as Jeongguk keeps feeding him his cock, making him whimper and arch his back. He feels warm, held open and vulnerable, shyness molding into embarrassment then into pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jeongguk would say, punched out and full of desire, and Taehyung would let out something akin to a mewl. “All mine to fuck, hm? All for hyung.”

Taehyung moans at the words, feeling himself blush all over, down to his shoulders, on the top of his ears. “Yes,” he whispers, remembering how he had imagined those same words being whispered into his ear a few hours ago. All real now. Better than he imagined. No one had ever made him feel like this, so loved and thoroughly opened up. No one ever held his face as he kissed him and made him pleasantly border on the edge of pleasure and overconsuming desire.

All up for the taking.

“Hyung,” Taehyung lets out, frenzied, wanting Jeongguk as close as possible. “Hyung, I’m, hah, so close.”

“Yeah?” He cups Taehyung’s cock, playing with the head. By now, Jeongguk had leaned over, both of Taehyung’s legs held wide open. Everything about him is so alluring, as he breathes down, as he whispers words of encouragement, necklace thumping against his chest with every movement inside of Taehyung, loud and messy. “Can you come for hyung, Taehyung-ah?”

“I’m—hah, hn,” he gasps out, needy, lost, “Yes, please.”

Jeongguk laughs, breathless, and so attractive it almost hurts.

When Taehyung comes, he arches off the mattress, sweat dripping down his brow. Jeongguk comes inside of him, groaning in pleasure. Then, he parts Taehyung’s legs open to shamelessly observe the mess that he has made out of Taehyung’s hole, pushing his thumb in to let all the come leak out of him in small, sensitive pulses. Taehyung keens at the action, seizing his wrist to stop the teasing touch, at which Jeongguk presses a kiss atop his temple with a small laugh.

They take a moment to breathe it all out, sweaty and sticky.

“Taehyung.” Jeongguk addresses him.

“Hm?” He murmurs, soft and sleepy, cheek smushed against the pillow.

“Go out with me.”

Taehyung opens his eyes, turning to take in the earnest look on Jeongguk’s face.

“Let’s go on a date.”

Taehyung’s lips part, surprised.

“And before you say no,” he says, suddenly awkward, searching in haste for words. “I have lots of experience. Courtesy of you, of course.”

“Alright.”

“But if you let me, I can—what?”

“Let’s go on a date, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk takes a breath in, eyes alight over the lamp light, so full of life and devotion. And Taehyung still understands why he has run from his feelings, why he has wanted to preserve his heart. He is terrified, still. But, as he takes Jeongguk’s hand in his, the feeling in itself is soft and darling, reminding Taehyung of what could something be if given a chance. And for a moment, he feels brave. Perhaps, in the face of his own fears, love abounds.

Halfway through the night.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Did Jimin know?”

A huff, soft with sleep. “About what? My feelings for you?”

“Yes.”

“He did.”

“How?” Taehyung springs up, to which Jeongguk grumbles since it jostles him, cutting off the touch from where he was hugging him around the waist.

“The moment he met me he told me, you’re so obvious, you’re lucky he is a fool.”

“Did everyone know?”

“Everybody knew, hyung.” Jeongguk placates him. “That’s why he always teased me.”

“I really am a fool.” Taehyung murmurs to himself, burrowing back into the warmth that Jeongguk’s body provides. The younger presses a kiss against his shoulder, bringing back the warm, floaty feelings of nervousness that Taehyung still has not gotten used to.

“We were fools together.”

#

Even after three months, Jeongguk still acts the same.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Keep going.” Jeongguk’s chin sits resting on his shoulder, rocking him from side to side.

Taehyung is printing some files. Jeongguk has not let up at all even for a moment from attaching his body to his, especially when he gets the opportunity to act clingy and touch him up all to his heart’s content. Because of the constant affection, Taehyung has started to stop running from it, and feel less and less like a mess that cannot be cleaned up, spilling, and overwhelming to the world.

He and Jeongguk fall asleep together most nights. Nights spent on the couch end up with Jeongguk trying to see how much that well-crafted control of Taehyung’s will hold up. It crumbles the moment the younger asks, “Kiss me.” It continues with a hand reaching down, then around, then right there. Kissing a lot more. A wet slide, a moan, paired with the stuttering of Taehyung’s breath as he takes all that Jeongguk can give him and then some more. He would have never imagined the younger to have such an insatiable libido, but Taehyung enjoys the new ways in which he can be spread apart and splayed open for the taking.

He continues to push the same behavior at company dinners, and although they are not publicly announcing their relationship at work, it still does not take away from Jeongguk to act obvious. He stays behind to wait for Taehyung, brings him snacks, brushes his hair away from his face when he eats, makes weird, sappy allegories towards how much Taehyung makes his heart flutter.

Taehyung’s birthday is coming up soon, now the seven of them are meeting up for their Friday night dinner. The smell of garlic and meat gets to him, the warmth of the establishment bringing a dense comfort that coils in his heart, when Hoseok shouts, “Jeon Jeonggukie!”

Again, the enthusiasm doubles, and they all cheer, patting Jeongguk’s back as he comes in bearing a shy smile. This time around, when Jeongguk’s lips easily find his own, the smell of his leather jacket and of the outside cold overwhelms him with more heat than any summer could’ve. Just to be annoying, and just because he can, Jeongguk pecks him again, and then again, asking in between, “What’d I miss?”

Jimin sneers, but it is good-natured. “A lesson on public decency.”

Taehyung smiles, and watches as Jeongguk sits down on the seat that Taehyung had saved for him. “Not much.” And Jeongguk threads his fingers through his under the table, not able to keep his hands to himself for even a second, reveling in the action of having the opportunity to do as he pleases, knowing that Taehyung will never not indulge this whim of his.

Taehyung just redirects a shy little smile towards him, and thinks to himself, this affection is all his. This person is his. His Jeon Jeongguk. His lover.