Chapter Text
Taehyung has his clapback on the tip of his tongue, already opening his mouth to answer, but words get lost along the way and his throat feels suddenly tight. Yoongi’s eyes brighten up his world for the shortest of infinities before he’s facing the silent waves again with the ghost of a smile on his lips.
The ocean’s sleeping good, tonight. The wind’s gentle: it isn’t cold per say, but the air is cool enough to need more than a simple shirt. Summer’s packing its bagages and letting fall put on its own show: streets are already in their orange coat, leaves flying high enough to compete with birds. Yoongi pulls lightly on his sweater sleeves, the clothing twice as big as him, rubbing his hands unconsciously, eyes locked somewhere between the moon and her stars.
Taehyung looks up, too, curious to see what was so captivating up there to have Min Yoongi’s whole attention. Back home, the night sky’s selfish, hiding its precious gems away behind clouds of grey skies and somehow Taehyung’s thankful--but here, miles away from everything they know, the universe is crystal clear and he couldn’t even try to count the stars even if he tried his hardest. Silence doesn’t bother. Some kind of protective, comfortable coat, wrapped around them. It lets room to breathe, to think, and Taehyung’s mind takes him back two months ago.
They needed some kind of vacation, the both of them. They needed to get away from their hometown and its exhausting routine, from the busy streets of Seoul--skyscrapers felt like a trap and bright lights became unbearable.
“Let’s get the fuck away from here, Tae,” Yoongi said, and Taehyung didn’t hesitate a goddamn second.
Two days later, they were boarding a plane straight to Wellington. From there, Taehyung doesn’t remember much except Yoongi’s hand in his and the sun ahead of them as they walked. They’re somewhere up the small island, not so far away from Wellington. He didn’t ask, didn’t question where they were going because this kind of thing… It doesn’t matter, as long as Yoongi’s walking right beside him. He knows the distant look in his eyes, the stiffness of his shoulders, the pinch of his brows, the demons in his mind-- can easily catch the subtle shake of his fingers as he lights yet another cigarette, the twitch of his lips when he doesn’t get his algorithms right. Taehyung knows, and doesn’t need to press and push to get answers out of his boyfriend. These past days though, it’s been okay, Yoongi’s been alright, wit and laugh all back where they belong.
Taehyung watches him, his profile shining under the moon’s soft rays. Bare collarbones and bare neck, lips curved in a peaceful smile, eyes sharp and dark, honest and warm. Taehyung watches him, and wonders if the universe ever regrets sending its brightest star down there: he supposes it doesn’t worry much, keeping a close eye on him. And, well, one day-- Yoongi would go back home, and only then would the sky be complete again.
“Come on.” He blinks and the spot beside him is suddenly empty, the blonde no longer sitting there. There’s a hand stretched out in front of him, waiting to be held, which Taehyung doesn’t notice at first, buried deep in his own trail of thoughts, then that hand extends a little more and reaches Taehyung’s forehead, brushing hair out of his face gently. “Hey.”
Taehyung looks up wordlessly, asks silently, question never quite reaching his lips but the blonde gets it, and smiles of one those smiles. Softening the lines of his face, making him look young and unstoppable.
He says, “It’s getting cold. Let’s go,” offering his hand once again and this time he doesn’t miss the chance to take it. Stands up, feet digging into the sand.
“Hi,” Taehyung grins. Wiping long strands of black hair again off his face, because he just can’t be assed to be a normal, respectful citizen who frequently visits the hairdresser. His boyfriend rolls his eyes, yet Taehyung knows deep down the man loves the mess on top of his head.
“Should probably cut it.”
“And you should probably dye your roots, hyung, but I ain’t saying nothing.”
Yoongi runs a hand in his hair, ruffling it a bit before flashing a lopsided grin. Holds his boyfriend’s hand tighter, and starts walking along the calm waves. “Yea, you better better not, kid.”
He doesn’t dye his hair that often, lately. The very first time he saw him, the man had bright, red-pinkish hair, and Taehyung remembers falling in love in a heartbeat because goddamn, he loves all shades of pink-- even more so on his men. On a span of a year, Yoongi usually goes through multiple hair color changes, because he’s indecisive, looks good in literally everything, but above all, “wants to give the gays what they want”. Beneath all the layers of comedy and sarcasm, there are other reasons, the same ones explaining why his nails are always colored or why he’d never leave his house without a smile on his face. Yet, for Yoongi to not care much about black bleeding over his blonde hair--it makes Taehyung’s heart swell inside his heart double its size.
“Y’know, Seokjin called.” Yoongi glances over his shoulder, a glint in his eyes. “Asked if we were lost or somethin’”.
Sounds like Seokjin. He giggles a little, waits for the blonde to continue, which he does, a short moment after: “Told me Hoseok got the balls to ask that girl out,” goddamn, finally, he thinks, “and that they’re missing us lots.”
Taehyung considers it, a huge smile working its way on his lips. They didn’t leave notes, didn’t tell their friends or family. They didn’t until they had to, and he’s glad it went smoothly, glad they have a wonderful, supportive circle of friends. His family scolded a lot, tough, always worried, always thinking he’s the same bold, reckless kid he used to be, always searching for the thrill and dangerous things. Taehyung misses them too. Longs for home, remembering a line from a french rapper he likes quite a lot: ‘au fond, j’crois que la terre est ronde - après avoir fait l’tour du monde, tout c’qu’on veut c’est être à la maison.’
In the end, I believe Earth’s round for one single reason - once you’ve gone 'round the world, all you long for is home.
He gives a little squeeze to his boyfriend’s hand. “What d’you think?”
Yoongi’s thoughtful, facing away, looking up. Sky’s full of bright light and promises of better days. When he turns on his heels to look at Taehyung, his eyes hold the whole universe and some more.
“I think it’s time we go back home.”