cards on the table (we're both showing hearts)

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/23997409.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Namjoon |
RM, Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Park Jimin (BTS)
Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Pining, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship,
starts off a tiny bit wordy, Domestic Fluff, smut further down the road,
Canon Compliant, Bottom Jeon Jungkook, Top Kim Taehyung | V,
Switch Kim Taehyung | V, Switch Jeon Jungkook, prepare for fireworks
romance, and Upgraded Fluff, mostly top!tae i guess but not gonna lock
them into roles, Light Dom/sub
Collections: Canon Taekook, Red + Blue = Purple
Stats: Published: 2020-05-04 Completed: 2021-07-04 Chapters: 21/21 Words:
143829

cards on the table (we're both showing hearts)

by afuzzyowl

Summary

I want him, Taehyung almost confesses. Jimin makes his life hard like that
because he’s sort of soft, gives off this vibe of being welcoming, or accepting,
or something. Even if his back muscles are disconcertingly defined.

“Say. What do you think of Jungkook? Just, like. In general.”

Jimin sighs exaggeratedly. “He’s a brat.” Taehyung nods. “Our brat, though.
Even though he 'forgets' to call me hyung sometimes. Hmph.”

“He’s so—adorable, Jiminie,” Taehyung mourns, and it takes everything in

him not to turn this into a half-hour sob fest about the dreadful consequences of
such adorableness, complete with poster presentation and one of those
extendable pointer thingies.

On their journey to becoming the number one boy band in the world, Kim Taehyung and
Jeon Jungkook fall in love. Based on true BTS events.

Notes

as mentioned in the tag, the beginning of this will be a bit heavier, cuz, yanno, intro and
everything. if ur here for fluff and all that kiss kiss fall in love bullshit....i gotchu ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
title from "all of me" by john legend...u know, that song th was singing and jk joined in so
they could stare into each other's eyes and harmonize "i give you all of me" yeah that one

i'm trying my best to keep all the events in the correct order but plz forgive me if i get some
details wrong!
 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Most of Namjoon’s rants fly straight over Taehyung’s head, just ‘cause there are too many of them
and the philosophical-ness is a bit much on a regular day, and seventeen-year-old Taehyung isn’t
exactly known for his attention span. But they have this one conversation once, the two of them
alone after a long day of practice, sprawled on the floor of the dance studio.

Namjoon’s babbling about...uh...something about how people...okay, so honestly Taehyung wasn’t

really listening at the beginning. But he starts paying attention at the point where Namjoon gets
into his insecurities as a rapper. He’s saying that there’s this sense of superiority or inferiority that
exists between people. Like, with everyone you know, you establish a balance of ‘I’m better than
you at this’ and ‘you’re better than me at this,’ or sometimes even just plain ‘I’m better than you.’
Namjoon hypothesizes that this solidifies a person’s position on the spectrum of respect you have
for them, and vice versa.

Taehyung doesn’t really understand what he means, not at the time, anyway. But the gist of it is
clear and it’s a saddening reality, that people have to categorize each other and base their own self-
worth off of that kinda stuff. But he gets it. The world is big, and categories help. Establishing
some sort of balance in your social circle helps. He’s a Capricorn, okay, he totally gets it.

Naturally, that night as he lies in bed, he thinks about how he categorizes their members and how
they do him.

Most of it seems obvious but also inconsequential. Hoseok is better than him at dance, Taehyung’s
deep register is better than Jimin’s, Suga’s rap lowkey beats all of theirs, etc etc. There’s also the
quieter but no less undeniable stuff, like that Namjoon’s emotional maturity is through the roof,
and so is Seokjin’s ability to shatter awkward silences.

How does any of that matter though? Sure, Taehyung feels inferior to his members about certain
things and superior about others. Does it affect the dynamics of their relationships? Does any of
that make them like each other more or less? He doesn’t know, he’s a teenager and a country boy
and pretty sure the only reason he hasn’t gone insane yet is because he’s got his members
supporting him, filling him up where his shortcomings would leave him empty.

Jungkook.

The one that’s good at everything. It’s not without effort, because the kid’s determination and self-
discipline are something else, but for some reason, the big guy up there had to make him good at
everything and freaking lovable as shit. Like, why? Taehyung thinks he might’ve hated Jungkook a
little if he were any different, but.

Maybe it has to do with how shy he was when they first met. Perhaps that’s where the superiority
thing comes into play: before Taehyung had a chance to start liking him, he took care of Jungkook
because Jungkook was interesting and it seemed like the right thing to do, and Taehyung’s always
liked getting along with everyone. He didn't do it to feel better about himself or for self-gain, but as
the one with the social upper-hand, that was the role he naturally drifted into.

So maybe that marks the beginning. Their starting point was the result of some mixture of
curiosity, empathy, social hierarchy, age dynamics.
And this is the way their story plays out: how it wasn’t about Jungkook at first, to how it all
became Jungkook in the end.

Taehyung’s first meeting with Jungkook ends in fascination and excitement because the younger is
a hard nut to crack, and Taehyung's sort of a masochist when it comes to befriending hard nuts
(heh). But also because. Well.

Let's just say, Bangtan's maknae is Cute with a capital C.

Physically, yeah, ‘cause Taehyung’s got two working eyeballs, thank you very much. A couple
months ago when Bang PD called him into his office and told him he’d be joining a group called
BTS, Taehyung didn’t have the presence of mind to care about the other members. He was too
busy freaking out and calling his family to cry about getting into a group at all. After the contracts
and everything were signed, Bang PD showed him the profiles of the current line-up since they
wouldn’t be grouping up in person just yet, though Taehyung had met or heard of many of the
trainees already. As he flipped through the profiles, he paused at Jungkook’s photo, briefly
snagged by the puppy-dog eyes, before the moment passed and he moved on.

But there’s always more to a person than just that. Have you ever met someone after seeing their
pictures or stalking their online profile and thought, ‘wow, they’re even more attractive in real
life’? Because of their reactions to things, their facial expressions, the highs and lows of their
voice?

Yeah, that’s Jungkook. His face is cute but it’s the personality that really, really gets to you.

He’s interesting, and behind the nervousness, there’s a sense of humour that Taehyung can already
tell will be right up his alley, if the way Jungkook’s casual remark the other day made him spurt
water out of his nose is any indication. What started as concern for the weird, anxious kid turns
into him seeking out Jungkook because he really thinks they could get along, if only Taehyung
could knock down a couple of his walls.

He comes to learn more about the boy’s cuteness in the grueling couple of years before debut. The
members aren’t together for as much as he would've liked, honestly. Jungkook was one of the first
to become an official trainee, so when Taehyung joins three months later, he’s the one being taught
by the younger everything about trainee life. Still, Jungkook is shy and a little distant, and
Taehyung wants to get to know him and the others better so badly, but it's hard when some of them
are almost never around. Including Jungkook, who gets shipped off to the States to learn how to
dance with emotion. Whatever that even means.

When the group is together, it’s only either at the studio where they’re practicing for most of the
day, or at home where they’re too exhausted for meaningful interaction. Taehyung feels lonely a
lot of the time. He isn’t part of the dance line or the rap line, and vocal lessons are normally one-
on-one, so it’s not like he sees anyone there. He wonders how each of the members are actually
doing, the admirable hyungs, feisty Jimin who he’s been friends with for years and therefore
knows works too hard, and Jungkook, who he worries about the most. The boy made eye contact
with him maybe a total of two times when they were first introduced. Taehyung can only wonder
how a child like him feels coming up to Seoul all on his own, being separated from his family at
such a young age, especially when he’s that introverted.

One of the many turning points in their relationship, he thinks, happens when Taehyung finds
himself in front of the fridge one night, unable to sleep and craving milk for no particular reason.
When Jungkook wanders in and spots him, he makes this gaspy sound that cracks at the end. Ah,
puberty. How glad Taehyung is for those days to be in the past.
“Hey!” he greets, pulling out the four-litre carton. He doesn’t have to look to know Jungkook’s
making a vaguely troubled face when he tips the milk straight into his mouth. Without touching his
lips to the rim, he isn’t a barbarian, people.

“Um...aren’t you cold?”

Taehyung wipes his mouth on his hand and blinks over at him. “No?”

“You...you’re—um. You’re naked.”

“I’m wearing boxers, Jungkook.”

The boy mutters something under his breath. Taehyung opens the fridge to replace the milk,
squinting against the light.

“Why’re you drinking milk at two in the morning...”

Taehyung shrugs. “I felt like it.”

The gaze that refuses to leave him feels a bit like wonder. Sadly enough, Taehyung is used to this,
he knows he isn’t the most conventional person out there, but the good thing about Jungkook is
that he doesn’t make him feel like a zoo animal. Maybe just a very impressive hammerhead in the
shark tank, with lots of awesome teeth.

“You...you’re really free, hyung,” he mutters.

“Eh...I guess so?” That’s another thing he’s heard a lot of. “I mean, I’m not gonna die from
drinking milk late at night. And, you know, you guys are gonna become family, I think.” He
smiles. “We’ll be together for a long time. I don’t mind getting naked in front of my bandmates.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, his eyes like dark pools.

Taehyung brings his hands up in claws, slinking across the kitchen towards him. “If it’d make you
feel better, we could all strip, desensitize you, yeah? Join me!”

“N-No thanks!” Jungkook recoils in horror, scurrying back down the hall.

But from that day on, he stops hiding away in the bathroom to change.

In the months before debut rolls around, they’re finally all gathered together for real which is both
a huge relief and source of anxiety, because. Debut. There’s no time to dwell on anything other
than perfecting their choreography and singing, but occasionally, they’re given the opportunity to
hang out as a group, hitting a cheap barbecue restaurant for dinner after twelve hours of practice,
cackling and joking and running around like the kids they are.

And things don’t change as much as Taehyung expected after their first stage, when they leave
sweating more from the rush of adrenaline than exertion. Their days are structured a bit differently
from that point onwards; it’s less practice, more promotion. Music, variety, and radio shows to
record, pressure to show the world the best versions of themselves, criticism and skepticism from
people they don’t even know the faces of. Sometimes it’s hard, it’s unfair, humans are cruel—

but Taehyung has Seokjin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin. He has Jungkook. So things are
different, but not really. Debuting is hard, but not really.

“Guys! Hey, guys! Jungkookie was gonna say something!” Taehyung waves his arms to catch the
others’ attention, and they quickly quiet down.

“Oh, Jungkook, what is it?” Yoongi offers.

Slouched in the chair beside Taehyung, their youngest looks down at his fingers, lips parted just
enough to show a hint of white. “No, it—” he clears his throat. “It was about something
from...from what we were talking about before...”

“Say it!” they all chorus encouragingly.

Even though the comment Jungkook eventually stutters out isn’t particularly funny or insightful,
Taehyung grins, proud and excited.

After the recording is over, Jungkook sidles over to him and sticks close, their arms bumping
together as they walk. He doesn’t say thanks or anything like that but he tears his banana in two
and wordlessly extends the larger half to Taehyung.

Taehyung’s heart squeezes. They haven’t spoken as much as he wants to for a variety of reasons,
like how busy they are or the fact that Jungkook likes to plug his earphones in and ignore the world
after a long day and Taehyung would feel guilty bothering him. Not that they haven’t talked at all
—sometimes Taehyung will throw out a dumb joke or start acting out some skit out of nowhere and
Jungkook will be the only one to laugh and play along. But this is different.

He takes the banana. Then he loops an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, nuzzles his ear.
Jungkook makes a cursory effort to huff and squirm away, and Taehyung just laughs.

“I’m doing fine. Yeah, it’s—the hyungs are really good to me. Yeah...yeah, I know. I’m eating lots.
Yeah.”

Taehyung doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he drank too much water before sleeping so now he
desperately needs to go. Why does Jungkook have to talk on the phone in the bathroom of all
places at one a.m, geez. No limits to his introvertedness, that one.

He considers returning to his bed for a bit, wait out the conversation which probably won’t be long
because Jungkook seems to not like talking very much, as a principle. Before he can leave though,
he hears the other boy say his goodbyes, followed by silence. With a breath of relief, Taehyung
raises his hand to knock.

Then he hears a sniffle. He freezes, his breath catching in his throat. His hand falls to his side and
he leans closer to the door, pressing his ear against it.

There’s another sniffle, followed by a muffled sob, and Taehyung’s heart breaks. Before he can
think about whether it’s a good idea, his hand is already at the doorknob, gently pushing the door
open. Light floods the hallway from the bathroom. He squints past the white spots in his vision to
find Jungkook curled up on the floor, barely catching the younger’s horrified expression before he
whirls around, back to Taehyung.

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung murmurs, careful to keep his voice down, not wanting the others to
hear. He closes the door behind him. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says quickly, still wiping at his eyes, his shoulders shuddering.

“You wouldn’t be crying if it was nothing, brat.”

“I’m not—I just got something in my eye!” Jungkook snaps, stubborn as ever, still refusing to look
his way.

Taehyung frowns. He crouches down, ignoring the crack of his knees, puts a hand on Jungkook’s
shoulder.

“Was that your parents?”

Jungkook goes stiff under him and Taehyung thinks he won’t answer for a moment, but he nods
once.

“Are you homesick?” Taehyung says softly. “Do you miss Busan?”

Jungkook remains silent. Taehyung suspects it’s pride or embarrassment keeping him from talking,
but Jungkook’s next words make his heart drop to his stomach.

“Jiminie-hyung was crying,” he confesses quietly. It’s a secret, Taehyung knows, because he
knows Jimin. “Th-that manager, the mean one? He kept saying—or, implying that Jimin-hyung
has to get better if—if we want to do well. He was being so cruel even though hyung works the
hardest out of all of us. And then. H-Hyung wanted to call his parents but it’s his cousin’s birthday
today so he didn’t want to bother them during the party, and—” Jungkook’s shoulders slump. “I
couldn’t do anything for him.”

Taehyung feels a sting in his nose and sympathetic warmth at the backs of his eyes. He leans
forward, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pressing them together, front to back. Jungkook
gets even tenser.

“Hyung,” he says, a warning made weak by the tremble in his voice.

“Damn it, Kook.” Taehyung sighs against the nape of his neck. “I didn’t know. That manager has
always been a little scary. Poor Jiminie, shit.”

“Yeah. Jimin-hyung didn’t want the others to know, so don’t tell.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I
just...suddenly felt the need to call my parents too.”

Taehyung hums. “I bet they were glad to hear from you.”

They sit there for a bit, two clueless teenagers with too many emotions and not enough wisdom.
Taehyung’s turning twenty in a little over a year, officially an adult, and he still finds himself lost
all the time, but he can’t let himself doubt right now, not when Jungkook needs him.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he says. “We should beg the managers for Jiminie’s favourites tomorrow for
lunch.”

Jungkook nods but doesn’t say any more. For a long minute, he stays there, a rigid, obstinate rock
in Taehyung’s arms.

It’s the late hour, probably, or the relief of sharing the burden with someone, because without
warning the dam breaks and he starts shaking, small choked sounds trapped in his throat. Taehyung
lets himself fall to his ass on the icy, hard floor, legs spreading around Jungkook. He turns him by
the shoulders, pulling him right into his lap. Jungkook melts into him, face buried in his neck and
arms winding around him.

Taehyung waits, running his hand through his hair.

“I—I really love being on stage,” Jungkook finally sobs, muffled into Taehyung’s t-shirt. “I love
meeting our fans and—everything, but I just—” His voice cracks with a whimper. “I hate seeing
the hyungs like this. It’s not fair. Sometimes I wonder if my—our hard work is gonna pay off.”

Taehyung rubs his back, rocking him back and forth. He hates that their youngest, a child, is being
forced to care about things like this, to carry such a weight on his shoulders. Becoming an idol
means not only growing up too fast but also growing into a person who’s not entirely themselves,
and they all know it. Each of them has made the decision that the pay-off is worth any amount of
effort, but his chest aches seeing Jungkook hurt over this.

“Jungkook, you love singing, don’t you?” he asks. “And dancing.”

Jungkook nods hesitantly.

“Good, because you’re so freaking good at it. Everyone thinks you’re amazing. I think you’re
amazing!” He gestures wildly around them, waving his arms more to be funny than for an actual
purpose. Jungkook looks up at him, face scrunched up.

“...Ugh.”

“You’re so cool when you perform, forget ARMY, I’m your biggest fan.”

“Sh-shut up,” Jungkook mumbles. Taehyung laughs.

“I mean it though. So don’t feel like you’re working hard for nothing. We’re all trying our best for
our dream because we love it, but we’re allowed to be tired sometimes, right? Jiminie too, he’s
amazing and he loves this, even though he has his own struggles. He’s strong, but we’re also here
to protect him. We all need to depend on each other, yeah?” He nuzzles his cheek against the top of
Jungkook’s head.

“Yeah...” Jungkook relents. “But I...yeah.”

“Hm?”

A watery sigh. “Sometimes I miss my parents. And my big bro.”

Taehyung hums. “Yeah, I know. I miss my grandma too.”

“Not your parents?”

“Well, my parents and siblings too, obviously, but my grandma was pretty much the one who
raised me. My mom and dad were really busy. Farm and all, yanno. And my dad had his business.”

“Oh.”

“Uh huh.” Taehyung rubs his back. “It’s okay, Kook-ah, you have us. Me, especially. Come find
me whenever you’re not sure. I’ll play games with you all night ‘til you feel better.”

Jungkook’s sniffling is interrupted by a huffed laugh. “You were saying some pretty cool stuff
there until the games part.”

“What, you don’t wanna game with me? Scared you’ll lose, huh?”

“Pft, hyung. We both know I’d kick your ass.”

“I’ve just been going easy on you.”

“Wow. Sure you have.”

“Yeah, whatchu gon' do about it?”

“Really? You wanna go?”

Taehyung puffs out his chest to show how much he does wanna go, ‘cause he’s a total tough
baddie, okay. Except his eyes are red-rimmed from holding back his own tears and he’s hugging
Jungkook to his chest like a possessive koala. Whatever, just because he likes cuddling doesn’t
mean he isn’t a badass.

Jungkook pulls away from him, doe eyes even shinier than normal with leftover dampness, his lips
starting to quirk up. Taehyung strikes his best ugly face, complete with double chin, and gets a
quiet giggle in return.

The darkness of the room tells Taehyung that it can’t have been more than an hour since he’s
collapsed in bed. They were all up until four last night pre-recording for a music show that got
delayed, so he can feel the annoyance rising inside him when he peels his eyes open, ready to snap
at whatever woke him.

There’s someone at the end of his bed, a head peeking over Taehyung’s feet from where the
person’s climbed up the ladder of the bunk bed. An arm surfaces to find leverage on the mattress,
making the springs squeak, and Taehyung’s heart leaps into his throat. Scenes from horror movies
flash through his mind, clowns and chainsaws and moving dolls. Until he realizes that even though
it’s too dark for him to make out the other person’s features, he can tell who it is by the way he’s
moving, the silhouette of his fluffy hair.

“Jungkook?” he whispers.

The figure freezes, head snapping up to look at him.

“Taehyungie-hyung,” comes a murmur.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh. Nothing, I just.” Jungkook’s voice goes small. “Can I...sleep here?”

Taehyung blinks. His eyes are adjusting bit by bit and he thinks he can spot the jut of Jungkook’s
nose, the shadows of his cheeks. “Mm, sure.”

He scoots closer to the wall. Jungkook boosts himself over the edge, crawling up the bed. He
leaves as much space as he can between the two of them but faces Taehyung, watching him.
Taehyung can just about make out the roundness of his eyes.

“What’sa matter?” he mumbles, bringing up a hand to smooth over Jungkook’s cheek. He wonders
if that feeling of emptiness after a show has triggered Jungkook’s homesickness like it occasionally
does for him. He hopes not. They haven’t had to breach this topic since the bathroom incident
weeks ago, which is good because Jungkook seems to be happier lately.

There’s the tickle of eyelashes against his thumb when Jungkook shakes his head. “Just tired.”

Taehyung hums. As much as he wants to enjoy this moment, the past week of promotions has him
drained to the bone. He slides his hand down to Jungkook’s waist and pulls him closer, enough that
he can faintly feel the other’s breaths against his face.
“We can share the pillow,” he mutters, near-unintelligible. Jungkook must understand though
because he wiggles a little, getting comfortable, and the weight of his hand settles into Taehyung’s
back. “G’night, Kook-ah,” he manages with the last of his energy.

“Night, hyung,” comes a whisper.

No doubt it's the tiredness keeping him from noticing the odd warmth against his side, unseeing
even after he blinks his eyes open. When it finally registers though, he gasps audibly.

Jungkook is pressed against his side, face burrowed in Taehyung’s arm, lips slightly parted as he
breathes quietly. His features are soft. He looks like a literal angel. A baby angel with
marshmallow cheeks.

Taehyung’s face scrunches up as he holds in a squeal. The memory of last night is blurry enough
that he wasn’t sure if it was real, but the evidence is here, holy cannoli, it was totally real. He
turns, just a tiny bit so he can raise the arm Jungkook isn’t clinging to, brush his hair off his
forehead with gentle fingers. Jungkook sighs through his nose and inches even closer, rubbing his
cheek against the worn material of Taehyung’s sleep shirt.

“Oh lord, please,” Taehyung whispers quietly. He might be dying. Death by adorableness. He pats
around behind him for his phone, finds it half-hidden beneath the comforter, and hurriedly unlocks
it with one hand. The angle is awkward but he manages to take a million pictures of Jungkook’s
adorable dozing face before throwing the phone aside with a satisfied grin. Then he lies back down
on his side, wrapping the other in his arms and going back to sleep with his lips pressed against the
top of his head.

The next time Taehyung wakes, he’s alone, his bed cold. He frowns, but that doesn’t last long
when the sound of Jungkook’s voice comes from outside. Hurriedly, he pulls on a hoodie and
slides down the bunk bed ladder, then bounds outside, skidding into the living room.

“Morniiinng!” he chirps, arms thrown into the air.

“It’s three in the afternoon,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Good morning!” Taehyung says louder, pointedly. Namjoon grunts at him in acknowledgment
from the couch, focused on writing something in his notebook, earphone wire dangling between
him and Yoongi. Hoseok and Jimin are nowhere in sight, and Seokjin is sitting on the floor,
channel surfing. He waves, half-heartedly scolds Taehyung about how he should wake up earlier.

Not seeing the one he’s looking for, Taehyung ignores them, ambling towards the kitchen. He
finds Jungkook eating cereal alone at their makeshift dining table, phone in hand.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the person who left without saying bye after camping out with me.
Heartless,” Taehyung teases. Jungkook gives him a flat look, though Taehyung doesn’t miss the
way his eyebrows furrow.

“I was just cold last night. And tired,” he retorts before shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

“Mm-hm, tired. That’s why you abandoned your bed to climb allll the way up to my bunk, yeah?”

This time, the tips of Jungkook’s ears go red and Taehyung laughs, prancing over to ruffle his hair.
“I’m just messing with you, Jungkookie, my bed is open to you any time.”

Jungkook finally stops pretending to be interested in his phone, glancing up unsurely. He chews,
swallows, then pouts. Taehyung resists the urge to coo at him.

“Seriously,” he adds as he fetches his own bowl and opens the fridge. “You know how much I love
to cuddle. Any time.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know I make a good body pillow.”

That night, after the lights have been out for a while and all the other members are asleep,
Jungkook creaks his way up to Taehyung’s bed again. The latter’s awake because he couldn’t help
hoping, jittery with anticipation. That or he drank too much tea before bedtime again but whatever,
semantics.

“Good evening,” Taehyung whispers into the darkness, snickering when Jungkook jumps.
“Welcome, young padawan.” He can physically feel Jungkook’s disdain, who immediately starts
descending the ladder. “No, wait! Come back! I’ll shut up if you do!”

Jungkook sighs loudly like he’s doing Taehyung the favour of his life and makes his way up again.
He’s brought his pillow with him this time, which he plunks down next to Taehyung’s and fluffs
up before dive-bombing on top of. Taehyung laughs under his breath.

“Hi,” he says.

“...Hi,” Jungkook says back. Taehyung smiles. He feels around for Jungkook’s face, then leans in
to kiss him on the cheek. It must be too late for pretenses because Jungkook doesn’t bother fighting
him off.

“Tired?” Taehyung asks.

“Mn.”

“Okay. Night-night, Jungkookie.”

“’Night.”

He falls asleep with a grin to the smell of Jungkook’s shampoo, and the last thing he remembers is
the fakest-sounding yawn as Jungkook stretches, then the feeling of his body as he ends the stretch
snuggled up to Taehyung. As if he needs an excuse to cuddle when Taehyung would welcome him
with open arms.

Cute.

Not to brag or anything, but Jungkook likes him better than he does the other hyungs, Taehyung’s
pretty sure. Whether it’s because they’ve shared a couple vulnerable moments or not, he can only
say he fuckin’ loves it so damn much, like wowzers. He thinks maybe this is why cat lovers create
a space in their lives for such self-important, mood-swingy creatures, because the reward is so
much sweeter when it’s hard-earned.

It's not that Jungkook is self-important or mood-swingy at all. In fact, he’s generally calm and quiet
and it’s obvious he likes all of them to some extent, probably inevitable after over a year of being
together every single day ever since their trainee days. But like a cat, he’s aloof, keeps to himself
for the most part, and doesn’t appreciate excessive skinship. Earning his affections gives Taehyung
a rush he’s never known before.

What also fits in with all his other cat-like qualities is how he’s subtle about said affections.
Taehyung doesn’t even notice until it comes up in conversation with the others.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Seokjin asks one day after dinner as they’re all lounging about in the living
room.

“I think he’s hermitting in bed,” Jimin pipes up from the kitchen where he’s making one of his
disgusting protein shakes again, judging by the intermittent screeching of the blender. They got it
on sale a while ago, all of them chipping in a little, though Taehyung kind of regrets it now because
the sound, god, and he never uses it anyway.

“Again? Taehyung, go check up on him.”

“Huh?” He pauses his phone game to sit up a little straighter. “Why, is something wrong?”

Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. “No, no. It just wouldn’t hurt for him to hang out with us
more. I can taste the extrovert hidden underneath his cool act.”

“What.”

“You know, those people who seem like they’re introverts but actually gain energy from being
around everyone?”

“Jungkook needs some quiet time sometimes, leave him alone,” Yoongi groans from where he’s
curled up on the floor for whatever reason.

Seokjin sighs. “It’s been three hours already, I think that’s enough alone time. Taehyung, go get
him.”

Taehyung doesn’t not want to go, in fact he’d love to spend some quality Bonding Time with their
cutie-pie tsundere maknae, but he’s confused. “Why me?”

“’Cause he likes you best, duh,” Jimin snorts, all put-out as he stomps into the living room with a
concoction that’s green and purple and brown. “Even though I shower him with love! That
ungrateful kid!”

Warmth floods into Taehyung’s face, as sudden as it is unexpected. He can feel himself smiling
without his permission. “You...you think he likes me best?”

Both Seokjin and Jimin turn to stare at him, the first incredulous, the second pouty.

“He dodges if I so much as raise my arm one centimeter towards him!” Jimin whines, and Seokjin
neck-chops him like it’s Jimin’s fault Jungkook has violent tendencies.

“Yeah, Taehyung can cling to him all day but if I poke him he’ll punch me in the stomach! The
audacity towards his hyung!”

They dissolve into some sort of argument about which of them Jungkook abuses more but
Taehyung tunes them out, too busy ascending to the heavens, rainbows and puppies and a chorus
of angels and everything. He leaps to his feet, abandoning his phone and skipping towards the
bedroom they all share. He flings the door open. Namjoon’s snoring away in his corner and
Jungkook’s lying on his stomach on his bed, headphones over his ears.
Taehyung flops right on to Jungkook’s bed, wiggling until their arms are pressed together, and
grins up at him. Jungkook frowns, shifting one of the headphone cups away from his ear.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” he asks suspiciously.

Taehyung gazes at him. Jungkook’s eyes are a bit swollen from tiredness. Taehyung finds himself
endeared, for some inexplicable reason. “I think we should come up with a secret handshake.” He
waggles his eyebrows. “Since we get along so well.”

Jungkook blinks. “A secret handshake?”

“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Taehyung rolls off the bed, dragging Jungkook with him. A thrill runs up his spine when the other
follows without protest, pulling his headphones off entirely and leaving his phone on the bed.

“Okay...” Jungkook says slowly. “So how should we start?”

Happiness bursts in Taehyung’s chest. He throws his arms around him in a hug, too touched for
words.

A gross snorting sound is punched out of Taehyung’s chest when a weight lands on it, snapping
him awake. He’s two seconds away from either pummeling the culprit or running away screaming,
depending on whether or not it’s a monster. But turns out he can’t do either of those because it’s
Jungkook, giggling, lying across his chest with a selfie stick pointed at their faces. The red light on
the attached camera is flashing, and Taehyung tries to school his expression into something less
disgruntled.

“Wh...” he mumbles.

“It’s V-hyung!” Jungkook sings, tickling him under the chin. “Good morning, hyung, say hi to
ARMY!”

Taehyung smiles at the camera and raises a hand in greeting, too out of it for actual human
language. It’s nowhere near morning so Jungkook is definitely making fun of him; they’re waiting
in between shows and Taehyung took the chance to nap on a couch in the dressing room. Thank
god his hair is still styled and his make-up hasn’t smeared, otherwise the noonas would kill him.

Jungkook’s smile softens around the edges as he stares up at the screen of the camera. Taehyung
doesn’t know why he’s just watching and not saying anything but it’s not a live broadcast, so he
figures they can cut out any extra footage later. Giving up on talking himself, he closes his eyes and
nuzzles into the top of Jungkook’s head.

The silence stretches on. “Aren’t you gonna say anything to your fans, V-ssi?” Jungkook teases,
dragging himself higher up the couch so that more of his weight is pressing into Taehyung.
Taehyung wheezes a little, opens his eyes blearily.

“What’re you even recording for?”

“The behind-the-scenes for the show.”

“Hmm. Well, you woke me up, so you can do all the talking.”

Jungkook huffs. “Sorry everyone, apparently V-hyung’s gonna be a lazy pig today, you’ll just have
to bear with me talking instead. To make up for it, I’ll tell you an embarrassing story about him. So
once, I was doing the laundry and there was this pair of underwear that I didn’t recognize, white
boxers with little red hear—”

Taehyung grabs him by the sides and digs his fingers into Jungkook’s ribs. Jungkook squawks,
propelling himself off and away, bouncing out of reach. Taehyung can’t help his own smile at the
distinctive Elmo laughter as Jungkook bends over in glee even though Taehyung’s pretending to be
mad, fake-yelling at him about how that’s too R-rated for the show. This time, when Jungkook
turns the camera to him, Taehyung has to work to make his expression less adoring because there’s
something about that kind of emotion that makes him weak in the stomach.

It’s hard with the way Jungkook grins at him, just as fondly.

Okay, so Taehyung’s quite confident that every not-straight guy in Korea suffers through a gay
panic on their journey of growth and self-discovery and all that coming-of-age jazz. ‘Cause, let’s
be real, they ain’t living in the most forward-thinking country here. And there's some sense of
solidarity in that. Fellow gays unite!

But anyway, his gay panic goes something like this: he’s watching Jungkook bounce on the balls
of his feet as he claps and guffaws at a dumb anecdote Hoseok is re-enacting. He sounds a bit
nasally, the tail-end of a cold still clinging to him, but the pitch of the laugh is high and heart-
warming and somehow carries with it a bit of Busan satoori, which, what the fuck. How can a
laugh have an accent? Are we [laughing in Spanish] now? Is this what all the [jajaja] memes
mean?

See, the point is that Taehyung is with Jungkook at least, like, twelve hours a day. And he makes it
his life mission to make Jungkook laugh as often as possible, because why the hell not when the
result is so damn rewarding. Which, in turn, means that he should technically be used to said
laughter. It should be background noise by now, like Seokjin’s window-wiping squeals or Jimin’s
tinkling fairy giggles. But Taehyung doesn’t know what it is about the sound of Jungkook laughing
specifically that makes his heart feel like it’s eating itself, how endeared it makes him.

So that day he’s just zoning out on the couch, thinking about what to get for lunch and Jungkook is
over in the kitchen laughing at Hoseok, and as Taehyung turns to watch their maknae slap his thigh
in mirth, sunlight from the kitchen window illuminating him like he’s Jesus or some shit, wow,
he’s beautiful—the ache of longing bites into him so hard. It isn’t a punch to the chest, more like a
fist squeezing around it, tighter and tighter. Sour like he got lemon juice injected straight into his
heart.

This isn’t new, not really. Taehyung has always felt something similar to a degree, ever since the
first time he got the boy with flat hair and intimidated, shifty eyes to crack a grin. Obviously, part
of it is the sense of accomplishment, but that’s slowly being overshadowed by a yearning which
has nothing to do with Taehyung’s efforts to bring someone out of their shell, and everything to do
with that someone being Jungkook.

He’s not stupid. No one feels like this when their friends laugh. He’s always secretly liked
Jungkook a little more than the others, whether it’s because they’re closest in age and get along so
well or if it’s just that special something about the other boy that makes everyone want to coddle
him. Plus, Taehyung’s been unable to keep his eyes away from him these past couple of weeks,
and he’s starting to feel possessive of his laugh, of all things, so. That’s real telling, isn’t it.

Jungkook notices him watching. He turns by a fraction so they’re eye to eye, stares right back. The
smile slowly slips off his face, taken over by a blank, neutral expression. Or maybe a mask of
neutrality. Hoseok looks between the two of them, back and forth, but Taehyung can’t muster up
the drive to check his expression. He’s busy wondering at the science behind how Jungkook’s eyes
are so sparkly all the time, glinting now in the half-sunlight. How does that work? What is physics
even?

Jungkook breaks their eye contact first, turning back to Hoseok with nonchalance that Taehyung
knows for sure this time is faked. He wants to vault over the couch and run to him—a big deal,
because that would make him sweat and he is not about that life—and press his face against
Jungkook’s neck. Breathe in the smell of his skin. Hug him close, run his hands through his hair,
bite the shell of his ear just to watch him fidget.

Taehyung had, like, one girlfriend in middle school who he did have some sort of feelings for, so
it’s not that he doesn’t have a romantic interest in girls. He also can’t remember ever feeling this
way for a guy. This is a whole new world. Still, he likes Jungkook so much, it can’t be anything
else. They don’t even have to kiss or anything, he just wants to be close. He wants Jungkook to
think about him all the time.

If that isn’t peak gay then he doesn’t know what is.

I want him, Taehyung almost confesses to Jimin. Jimin makes his life hard like that because he’s
sort of soft, gives off this vibe of being welcoming or accepting or something. Even if his back
muscles are disconcertingly defined.

But Taehyung forces himself to keep his mouth shut, instead watches his friend hum as he looks
for a movie on his laptop for them to watch together. Taehyung’s nineteen now, not even a year
away from the milestone that looms above his head, but back when he was twelve and imagining
what his life would look like at this age, he thought he’d have it more together. Now he knows all
nineteen-year-olds are dumbasses and just doing their best to fake it.

At the risk of being TMI, he’s also horny as hell like any healthy boy his age would be, and some
of it’s got to do with Jungkook, but also not. Their maknae is two years younger so it feels wrong to
be thinking of him in any way other than Bangtan’s precious kid. Although it’s not only the age gap
that has him immediately severing any less-than-innocent thoughts when they try to creep up on
him, it’s because Taehyung’s feelings for him are too pure for that. This is what puppy love feels
like, he’s certain. An innocent crush. So when he says he wants Jungkook, it’s in the truest,
simplest meaning of the word.

“Say. What do you think of Jungkook?”

Jimin’s worming his way up the bed to where Taehyung’s waiting, dragging the laptop with him.
“What d’you mean?” he asks as he settles against the headboard.

“Just, like. In general.”

Jimin sighs exaggeratedly. “He’s a brat.” Taehyung nods. “Our brat, though. Even though he
'forgets' to call me hyung sometimes. Hmph.”

Taehyung’s torn about that. Jungkook calls him hyung but he wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. On one
hand, it’s cute, on the other, they might feel even closer if he didn’t.

“He’s—so—adorable, Jiminie,” Taehyung mourns, and it takes everything in him not to turn this
into a half-hour sob fest about the dreadful consequences of such adorableness, complete with
poster presentation and one of those extendable pointer thingies. He hasn’t mentioned anything
 about his less-than-platonic feelings to Jimin, but he also doesn’t think it’s necessary or anything at
this point. He’s sure all of BTS can relate to how distressing Jungkook’s cuteness can be
sometimes. Or at least he hopes it isn’t just him.

Jimin snorts out a laugh and smacks him on the shoulder, though it’s not a reprimand, just that he
needs to smack something because Taehyung’s being so funny, har har. “Yeah, he is. Our widdle
bunny wabbit.”

The door opens, and speak of the devil, there’s the bunny. He stops in his tracks when he sees them
huddled on Jimin’s bed, his eyes drifting from Taehyung to Jimin, then back again.

“Jungkook-ah!” Taehyung shoots up, beaming at him. “Did your vocal lessons end early? Wanna
join us? We were gonna watch Iron Man.”

A little furrow appears between the other’s eyebrows. “Nah. I’m gonna go shower.” He does an
abrupt one-eighty and steps out of the room. The rigidity in the movement makes Taehyung wince
in preparation for a slammed door, but it closes with barely a sound.

He gapes. “Did our man just say no to Iron Man? Is he okay?”

“Looks like someone was jealous~” Jimin coos. Taehyung must make some kind of face because
Jimin bursts into full-body laughter, pointing and kicking his feet at Taehyung. Okay, so the
thought was drifting through his mind, a secret hope, toying with the idea that that frown could
have been for him. Even if it’s not jealousy in the romantic sense, only the I-thought-I-was-V-
hyung’s-best-friend-dammit sense, the possibility makes his heart stutter.

“Shut up,” he mutters, elbowing Jimin when he snickers.

Chapter End Notes

thanks so much for reading!! would love to hear ur thoughts <3

i listened to a compilation of jk's cover songs while writing this and got all sad lmao
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

By the time Bangtan’s one-year anniversary rolls around, it’s safe to say that Jungkook has shed his
awkwardness around the members. More and more, he’s revealing the funny, silly, naughty kid
underneath, and Taehyung loves it. There’s just so much to like about Jungkook. As if he needed
the help, ugh.

And weirdly (or amazingly) enough, these days, it’s like Jungkook can’t seem to stop staring at
him or following him around and it’s driving Taehyung up the fucking wall. In the best way, of
course. If best also means that it sucks balls.

At a fansign event, Taehyung smooshes a hot pack against Jungkook’s cheek and the younger
retaliates with two hot packs, but it’s almost like he’s caressing Taehyung’s face with the damn
things, he’s being so gentle. Jungkook’s eyes drift down, then back up, once, twice, three times.
Taehyung wants to think he’s looking at his lips, but he also knows Jungkook has a habit of staring
at nothing in particular when he zones out, or looking down when he’s lost in thought, so he
doesn't let it get to him.

Still, even though he’s been trying so hard to hold back lately, he finds himself drawn to
Jungkook’s mouth like they’re mirroring each other. It’s soft, pink, a bit chapped. A mole under his
bottom lip. Remember when Taehyung said he’d be okay with not kissing Jungkook, that he
doesn’t need it? Yeah, so he might not need it necessarily in the exact definition of the word, but
he’s still gonna take that statement back, like, waaay back. The more Jungkook opens up, the more
he’s willing to express an affection that makes Taehyung feel weak in the stomach. He didn’t know
he could have this. He didn’t know it would make him feel like all his electrons are trying to
vibrate out of their orbits, although he’s a hundred percent sure that’s not how it works even with
his trash science grades from high school.

And now that he does know, he’s discovering a new type of greed. When Jungkook glances at
Taehyung after doing something idiotic, as if to seek his approval, Taehyung feels like he can take
on the world. When Jungkook calls him handsome, eyes trailing after him like he hung the moon in
the sky, being a good hyung doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He wants to be many things to Jungkook. Impressive, wise, attractive. He wants to kiss him so
badly. It doesn’t have to get any farther than that, Taehyung doesn’t want to, uh, defile their
maknae or anything, but a kiss wouldn’t be too sinful, would it? A chaste little peck here and there,
when he can’t restrain the affection threatening to spill out of his ribcage anymore. It’d be
something he could have all to himself—Jungkook wouldn’t kiss any of the other hyungs on the
mouth, would he? What Taehyung wouldn’t give to have something special like that.

So yeah, the staring has been driving him insane, especially because Taehyung can’t figure out the
reason. Why now? His appearance hasn’t changed much in the past year so there isn’t really
anything worth staring at. Is it just for comfort because Jungkook gets nervous around strangers
and feels safer when he looks at Taehyung? Because they’re close? Does that explain the touches
too, how Jungkook will actually return his hugs now, with both arms and everything, despite the
fact that he’d probably sooner elbow Seokjin in the stomach for the same? Most devastatingly, he
initiates now too, will land a hand on Taehyung’s and squeeze, or rub the back of his neck. Tap
him on the shoulder and when Taehyung turns, he’ll find a finger poking his cheek and the cutest
little smile.
Taehyung wants to scream from the rooftop. Like that one time Jimin did. Jeon Jungkook! Stop
bewitching me, you sneaky, charming little brat! I'm gonna come make you love me if you don't!
Yeah, that's exactly what he'd say.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes closed, lips parted. “Hyung, I—mmm. Mnn, oh. Hyung,
love you.”

Taehyung’s head is spinning. His heart is slamming against his ribs. Through half-lidded eyes, he
watches Jungkook’s eyelashes flutter, the younger’s helpless moan muffled between them as
Taehyung tangles their tongues together. It’s wet, hot, delicious, makes Taehyung’s breaths
shorten, his lungs straining not from lack of air but from the way his ribcage feels like it’s closing
in on itself.

One hand strokes Jungkook’s jaw and the other slides down, over his neck, down his chest, to rest
on his hip. His thumb sneaks under the t-shirt and strokes, back and forth, back and forth.

“Tae,” Jungkook sighs out shakily against Taehyung’s lips, palms curled over his cheeks. “I love
you.”

I love you too, Taehyung wants to say so badly. He presses another kiss on Jungkook’s mouth,
warm and open and slick. For some reason though, he can’t speak. He can’t control his actions.
He’s watching himself kiss Jungkook, like a puppet or like his body’s been possessed, he’s nothing
but a third party, and it’s because this isn’t real, he knows it isn’t, Jungkook would never let
himself voice his love so easily but he can’t bring himself to let go yet, he knows it’s just a dream,
but he can’t let go—

“Taehyung, wake up!”

Pain blooms over his shoulder where he’s being smacked repeatedly and he sucks in a breath, eyes
flying open.

“Seriously, get up, we’re gonna be late.” It's Namjoon hovering over him. “You too, Jungkook.
Why’re you sleeping with Taehyung again? Clean up the mess on your bed sometime, kid.”

Taehyung’s heart is making an effort to lunge out of his chest, partly from the adrenaline of the
lingering dream, partly because the longing is so strong. The dream overlaps with real Jungkook
who makes a disgruntled snuffling sound from beside him, curving himself closer to Taehyung’s
body.

Taehyung jolts away. There’s a mortifying hardness in his pants. Before Jungkook can wake, he
scrambles off the bunk bed and speeds towards the bathroom, hands covering his crotch.

Fuck, look at how pathetic he is. Hard from a dream about a bit of kissing with his friend who has
no idea he thinks of him that way, his chest tight from a fake love confession.

This is wrong of Taehyung. It’s dirty of him.

For the rest of the day, he’s out of it. The heaviness in his chest stays but there’s an itch under his
skin that fights it. Because Taehyung’s young and not very good at controlling himself, and he
can’t help that he wants what he wants.

Even as the guilt weighs him down, or maybe because it’s so heavy, there’s nothing he can do
except reach for Jungkook who plops down right beside him in a big camo zip-up, hiding behind
his red bangs and black cap. They’re recording for BTS Festa 2014, which is a big deal because
somehow after a whirlwind of a year, they’ve reached BTS’s first birthday. Taehyung should really
be paying attention to the script in front of him instead of trying to find every opportunity to touch
Jungkook. It’s so hard. He feels horrible about it but the yearning and the fear make him clingier.

Their chairs are pushed away from the table since the thing isn’t big enough to fit seven pairs of
legs under it. This means the cameras catch each small movement, but Taehyung can’t bring
himself to care. He presses his thigh to Jungkook’s. Rests his hand on his own knee but keeps his
legs spread far enough for his arm to brush against the other boy’s. Sometimes, he’ll curl an arm
around him, or prop his elbow on his shoulder and lean his head on his hand so that he’s close
enough to feel the breath of his laughter. Taehyung concentrates on inhaling, exhaling.

He’s calm. The small bits of contact are almost enough to satisfy him, soothe the want that
exploded in his face this morning. This is cool, all good.

“Miss Right” plays during the music break and the others are busy goofing off, mouthing the lyrics
and shoving their faces in the cameras. He’s about to join in when Jungkook touches him.

Taehyung’s got his elbow resting on the other’s shoulder, so when he turns in response to the hand
that’s fallen on his thigh, their faces are less than a foot apart. Jungkook rarely touches him
anywhere but on the face, neck, or shoulders. The warmth on his leg is electric, so close to where
he’s more sensitive. Then, Taehyung is treated to a front-row view of Jungkook exposing his cute
front teeth in a bashful smile. He pets Taehyung’s thigh, rubs it up and down.

Taehyung has to bite his bottom lip hard to keep from doing something he’ll regret. He quickly
removes his elbow from Jungkook and turns back to the camera. When Jungkook’s hand falls away
from his thigh, Taehyung’s eyes briefly close in regret before he forces himself to get his shit
together and starts singing along with the others.

The memory of Jungkook’s expression imprints itself behind his eyes, makes his stomach flip, how
he was shy, unsure, as if he knew he was toeing a line. Taehyung knows that if he were tactless
enough to ask what he was doing, Jungkook would brush it off saying he’s imitating Jimin for
being a pervert and going around touching people’s thighs. That’s not what the hesitant smile says,
though, the way it hung between them as Jungkook offered no words of explanation, no comments
to fill the space. Taehyung can’t get it out of his mind.

Fuuuuuckkk. He’s gonna die. He’s dying right now.

The itch grows, makes him fidget and shift around, anxious for something. Jungkook doesn’t seem
any better, his knee jumping and fingers twisting together in his lap, and Taehyung doesn’t dare
look at his face, afraid of what he’ll see and what he’ll be tempted to do. The adrenaline makes
Taehyung even more excitable than usual, laughing loudly at funny comments the hyungs make
and dancing around obnoxiously as soon as the next song comes on.

When it’s Jungkook’s turn to take the toy hammer, Taehyung acts all surprised that he’s going to
be asking questions to Namjoon of all people even though it’s right there on the script. He uses the
feigned surprise to subtly pull Jungkook closer and rub his shoulder. Satisfaction sparks up his
spine when Jungkook presses closer to him than he needs to to get to Namjoon. But it’s all safe.
Subtle enough for it to be okay. They’re fine.

Until he kisses Jungkook’s ear.

He didn’t even mean to do it. He wasn’t thinking, it’s just that when they asked who Jungkook’s
favourite hyung was, Taehyung was split between needing to hear that it was him and wanting to
tease out a cute reaction ‘cause why bother asking a question to which the answer is so obvious
(right? please, please)? And his body moved before he could think.

Seokjin whacks Jungkook on the head with the toy hammer when he fails to answer in time, but it’s
almost on autopilot, and Taehyung knows he’s screwed up. Other than Jimin, the others are too
good to let their mild surprise stay on their faces, but they immediately start making a big fuss
about how loud the hammer is to distract from how one member just kissed another on the ear.
Taehyung joins in, guilty and ashamed of himself.

The feeling of Jungkook’s skin lingers on his lips.

After the show’s over, Sejin-hyung pulls him aside. “Taehyung-ah,” he says, gruff as ever, though
his eyes are kind. “I know you’re close with Jungkook, but try not to go overboard. The fans only
like seeing skinship to a certain extent.”

Taehyung’s heart drops all the way down to his feet. “Sorry,” he mumbles, the sick feeling
returning to the pit of his stomach with a vengeance.

“It’s fine.” Sejin pats him on the back. “Just a reminder. You’re not in trouble. Come on, let’s get
dinner now.”

Taehyung nods, trailing after him out into the parking lot where the others are waiting by the van.
He ignores Jungkook’s searching stare and makes a beeline for Yoongi, who he knows will be both
lazy and perceptive enough not to ask any questions. He cuddles into the older man as they drive
off, face buried in his neck.

Later that night, Taehyung’s lying in the dark, wide awake. Jungkook’s head peeks over the top of
his feet, hesitating like he hasn’t for months now before burrowing into Taehyung’s bed.

“Hyung?” he says quietly.

Taehyung closes his eyes, swallows once.

He thinks about pretending to be asleep. He could even out his breathing, sigh a little, roll on to his
side, and he’d probably be left alone. Usually, that wouldn’t be enough to make Jungkook leave.
He’d crawl up and wedge himself into any available space, however cramped it might be, curling
in and making himself small enough to look uncomfortable. And yet he’ll stay anyway, like he
prefers that to spreading out on his own mattress.

But Taehyung hasn’t looked him in the eye all evening, so tonight, Jungkook will leave, if
Taehyung can just—pretend.

He can’t.

“Jungkookie,” he murmurs, and opens up an arm.

There’s a sharp intake of air before Jungkook’s climbing up the ladder and sinking into the spot
Taehyung’s left open for him. Slow and careful, unlike the way he usually aggressively worms his
way up, or straight-up belly-flops there. Taehyung rolls on to his side and presses their bodies
together, nose brushing against his jaw as he breathes him in. It’s barely been a few hours of his
self-imposed separation and he’s already like this. How pathetic.

As if he can hear the miasma of self-loathing in his mind, Jungkook hugs him back, clutching him
tight, and like magic, everything else fades into the background.

Because he’s weak, Taehyung decides then that he’s not going to change this. He’ll be more
careful in front of cameras, but he can’t bring himself to change any of this, to let go. Not yet.

“Whatcha starin’ at?”

Taehyung lets out a totally manly squeal, whipping around to find Jimin’s face an inch from his,
his mouth pulled into a salacious grin.

“Wh—dammit, you scared me, what the hell!”

“Whatcha so surprised about?” Jimin asks in the exact same tone as his first question. His bedroom
eyes are squinted into slits. Taehyung’s fight or flight instinct is blaring alarms in his head. He
chooses flight but Jimin’s too fast, knows him too well, grabbing him by the arm before he can
nope the fuck outta there.

“Jimiiinn,” Taehyung whines, trying to pout his way out of the other boy’s grip.

“Nuh uh.” Jimin latches on to his back like some kind of lazy, needy panda so that if Taehyung
tries to run anywhere, he’ll have to drag him along. And there’s no way he has that kind of energy
to spare.

They’re in Berlin today practicing the choreography for “Danger.” Their fifteen-minute water
breaks are precious so Taehyung should really be spending it lying on the floor, rehydrating,
catching his breath, literally anything else to keep him going for the rest of the day. Instead he got
distracted, and more terrifyingly, got caught by the evil little garden gnome.

“C’mon, out with it,” Jimin coaxes, smacking him on the chest. “What’s got you so dazed today,
hm?”

“I’m not dazed. I’ve been dancing super hard, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we all have. But something about you is...off.” Jimin tilts his head thoughtfully.

Taehyung stops, purses his lips. Debates the pros and cons of getting this one tiny question off his
chest and decides that it can’t do any harm. Jimin’s his platonic soulmate, he won’t go around
selling him out or anything.

“Do you...” He licks his lips. “Do you ever think it’s...weird? That—um. Jungkook’s biceps are
more defined than, like, Hoseok-hyung’s? Or Jin-hyung’s? Even though he’s a baby?”

Jimin slides off his back. Taehyung allows himself a moment of self-reflection and cowardice
before he slowly turns around to face the other boy. Which he immediately regrets because Jimin’s
making his chimpanzee face, the one where his mouth is a trapezoid and his nostrils are flaring and
white is visible all around his irises.

“Wh-what!” Taehyung stammers defensively. “It’s just an observation! Stop looking at me like
that!”
Jimin drops the face, rubbing his chin. “Okay, I’m not feeling that this is a jealousy thing. So what
is it? An inferiority complex? No. Wait.” He chokes, re-donning chimpanzee face. “Thirst? Oh my
fucking god, Kim Taehyung, are you thirsting after Jungkookie’s bice—”

Taehyung lets out an inhuman screech and smacks his hands over Jimin’s mouth, dragging him
into a corner of the dance studio. No one even looks at them, used to their antics. Especially not
Jungkook, who’s practicing his moves with the teacher on the other side of the room in that state of
laser focus where he doesn’t get distracted by anything.

He’s so amazing.

Jimin gags, stabbing a finger at Taehyung’s face. “Holy shit, you are. Wow, I’m offended. My
biceps are bigger than his, hello? Do you see these guns?” Taehyung watches him flex. The
realization that he doesn’t feel anything whatsoever looking at Jimin’s admittedly buff arms feels
like a bowling ball to the face.

“That is so weird,” he mumbles.

Jimin smacks him on the shoulder. “Rude! It’s called being ripped! Maybe you should try it some
time!”

“No thanks, I got better things to do.”

“Like what? Game? With Jungkookie?” Taehyung splutters wordlessly. Jimin suddenly gasps,
making Taehyung’s stomach fall in dread until his friend smacks his cheeks and leans in close,
eyes flashing across Taehyung’s face.

“Taehyung-ah,” Jimin hisses, very seriously, like he’s the hyung and not a measly two months
older than him. “Are you going through puberty again?”

Taehyung tackles him.

Though on second thought, maybe Jimin had a point. So did y’all know that gay panics can come
in waves? No? Well, let Taehyung enlighten you, you sad, pathetic mortals (sorry, he’s been
watching too many Marvel movies lately, Jungkook likes them, okay).

Part two of said gay panic sneaks up on him the way Jungkook’s building self-confidence sneaks
up on their group. As in, Taehyung knows in the back of his head that it’s happening, and there’s
no single moment that makes everything click—only a dawning awareness of the difference
between how things are now versus the past.

Or so he’d like to say. Haha, just kidding! Real life isn’t that poetic!

It slams into him like an eight-wheeler when he finds Jungkook sleeping without a top one summer
morning, and then he notices after that that Jungkook kinda never wears a top when he sleeps
anymore because it’s more comfortable that way or some bullshit. So yeah.

Cue Gay Panic: Pt. 2.

Of course, it’s inevitable that Jungkook would eventually get past ‘pretty comfortable with the
hyungs’ and take a running leap towards ‘comfortable enough to do things like wander around
half-naked all the time,’ what with the way every single member dotes on and accepts him
wholeheartedly. Sometimes he’ll still freeze up when there’s too much attention on him,
particularly in front of the cameras, but for the most part, they know they’ve been adopted into his
heart.

Jungkook claims his personality changed to include a little bit of each of them and Taehyung can
see what he means: Seokjin’s silliness, Taehyung’s randomness, Jimin’s compassion, Namjoon’s
calm, Suga’s sharp wit, Hoseok’s guileless laughter. But Taehyung also thinks Jungkook has had
those things in him all this time. Now they’ve just been drawn out, beautifully blended with the
core parts of him which aren’t found in the other members—a mischievous, wicked brattiness that
envelops a heart filled to the brim with kindness and empathy. Jungkook will be the first to make
fun of them when they make a mistake on stage, and also the first to go dead-sprinting for help
when they get hurt from an accident.

2015 marks one of the most important milestones of Taehyung’s life. Not just as V of Bangtan, but
as Kim Taehyung, son to Geochang farmers. The response to “I NEED U” is unprecedented and
earns them their first win at M Countdown. He pretends this is the reason he curls up under his
blankets to watch the MV over and over again, pausing and replaying Jungkook’s parts. They
filmed the apartment scene together, just the two of them, joking around and yelling at each other
through imaginary walkie-talkies as they acted out some parody of Mission Impossible. Taehyung
has pictures from then, which he scrolls through when he’s played the music video too many times
over.

Compared to past comebacks, their maknae looks a lot less like an emo, wannabe grown-up, and a
lot more like the angsty teen he sometimes is in reality. Pretty, though. Jungkook’s not just a cute
kid anymore, he’s so, so pretty. They’ve abandoned the thick rings of eyeliner for a youthful,
cleaner look this concept, and it suits Jungkook so well, drawing attention to the boyish innocence
of his eyes and the sweetness of his smiles. Like that one guy in high school all the girls fall for.
Not the bad boy, ‘cause he wouldn’t be that even if he was reborn, ha. Not the nerd with the sexy
brain either, because Jungkook has the intelligence but not the patience for good grades. Maybe
he’d the sportsy one. Yeah. The jock without the dirty rep since he’s too shy for that kinda shit.
Taehyung can totally see him dominating on a basketball court with girls screaming his name from
the bleachers, inspiring anime music in the background and all.

For the millionth time, Taehyung pauses the MV at 2:13. He doesn’t know why he chooses this
scene in particular when it’s just a tight shot of half of Jungkook’s face as his right eye opens in
something like acceptance. But it makes Taehyung’s imagination run wild. He wonders how
Jungkook would look at him if Taehyung ever tried to pull him that close, whether his eyelids
would flutter or if he’d look away. If he’d stare right back with the same want Taehyung feels in
his bones.

And so the start of Gay Panic: Pt. 2 might have been liking shirtless Jungkook too much, but the
peak of it happens here, when he finds himself pausing at this completely non-sexy scene. When he
realizes it’s not the nakedness that makes him ache the most.

It’s how at ease this shirtless Jungkook looks when he’s dozing on the couch, lips parted, hands
open and loose, the veins on his forearms contrasting with the softness of his face. A vulnerability
Taehyung feels a fierce need to protect. He can’t chalk up any of this to misguided, unvented
hormones when he spends an equal amount of time fretting over how pretty Jungkook is as he does
how to make him relaxed and happy. It’s not about inexperience or sexual curiosity or a lack of
opportunity for girls.

He can’t blame his feelings on those things when it’s not his dick or imagination, but his chest that
feels like it’s on fire sometimes.

“Stop! You’re under arrest!”

A pair of hands curl over his wrists, slamming them together behind his back. Taehyung squeaks
and twists to look behind him. His mouth drops open when he sees Jungkook in his policeman
uniform, a lock of red hair curling over his forehead and a giant grin splitting his face.

“Oh no, officer, please!” Taehyung cries out, playing along, because what else can he do when this
whole sitch is making him feel hot under the collar. “I’m innocent, I swear!”

“Do you even know what you’re guilty of, huh? Do you?” Taehyung can feel the heat of
Jungkook’s body as he leans closer, shaking the trapped wrists gleefully.

“No sir! As I’ve stated, I’m innocent!”

A heavy boot lands on the backless leather sofa, right beside Taehyung’s thigh. Jungkook tips
forward so Taehyung can see his cheesy expression. “For stealing my heart,” he breathes, eyes
scrunched closed, raising a clenched fist between them. Taehyung rips his hands back to himself
and grabs Jungkook by the forearm, bottom lip trembling as he gazes up at him.

“I’ll never give it back,” he whispers brokenly.

Jungkook sucks on the inside of his cheeks. To his credit, he manages to hold back for a good two
seconds before dissolving in laughter.

Taehyung bats his lashes, lips curling in triumph. Seokjin walks by, just shaking his head and
sighing in great disappointment.

“Our Jungkookie’s growing up, huh,” Taehyung says, letting go so he can pat him over the
shoulders and chest. “You look good in this.”

“You look like a nerd,” Jungkook teases, poking at his bowtie. Taehyung bats him away.
Undeterred, Jungkook prods at his hair instead, mumbling under his breath about how fluffy it is.

“I’m Conan Doyle, ya li’l punk! Check out my watch.”

“Pft, you’re just a nerd. Oh, but only until you take off the glasses. Then you look like a fake good
boy.”

“The hip thrusts probably don’t help with that image.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Yeah, no.”

Taehyung stares at him, letting his eyes go half-lidded. “Forget me. Don’t think I haven’t seen the
way you’ve been flirting with the camera lately. Turning into such a heartbreaker, our little
Kookie.”

“Not little,” Jungkook retorts, because of course that’s what he focuses on. “We’re the same size.”

“Nuh uh!” Taehyung says, just for argument’s sake even though it completely has not escaped his
attention how Jungkook’s height has somehow caught up to his.

A staff member jogs past them, waving for their attention. “Hey guys, time to get into position,”
she says, gesturing towards the set. “We’re going to do the first run-through in five minutes.” She
runs off to gather the other members and Taehyung turns to Jungkook with a pout.

“I’m gonna be stuck in my cage of a room the whole time,” he whines, winding himself around
Jungkook’s back and clinging. “I mean, like, the whole one-take thing is awesome—”
“I still can’t get over the fact that the camera movements are automated,” Jungkook breathes, voice
awed as he starts dragging Taehyung towards the set. “How badass is that? That you only have to
input the coordinates and they go whiirrr to wherever they’re supposed to go?”

“Yeah, fine, it’s cool, but I’m gonna be lonely!” Taehyung whines louder into his ear. “It’s gonna
be hooourrrs!”

Jungkook snorts. “Just think about Saturday. Our first day off in forever.” Taehyung perks up at
that.

“You’re right. I’m gonna sleep until the afternoon.”

“Really gonna waste your day like that?”

“Fine, play Kartrider with me and we can order chicken or something. I think there’s still a bit of
sprite in the fridge.”

Jungkook groans. “Stop it, you’re making me hungry.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“I’m a growing boy, hyung.”

“Well stop, you’re already scary enough.”

“This isn’t even my final form yet.”

“Taehyung, hurry the fuck up!” Yoongi shouts from across the room. Taehyung lets go of his
Precious with a final parting sob and slinks off to position, petulantly ignoring Jungkook’s cackles
behind him.

“V-hyung,” Jungkook calls over to him. Taehyung grabs on to the bars of the cage from the inside,
shaking them dramatically.

“Don't forget me, Jungkook-ah! I'll write you every day from behind these bars! Don't let me get
washed away in the oceans of your memory!”

“What is wrong with you!” Jungkook cracks up.

“Bring me body wash when you visit! You know bar soap isn't a good idea in prison!”

Jungkook laughs with his whole body, bent over and tilting dangerously towards the floor.
Taehyung gives himself a mental pat on the back.

“Listen, hyung,” Jungkook manages as he wipes his tears away. “I'll buy you one thing from any
street stall you want on Saturday if you make it through this alive. Okay?”

“...Anything?”

“One thing! I'm poor.”

“...I want japchae.”

He gets a bunny-toothed grin in reply. “'Kay.”

On the whole other side of the set, Jimin screeches, “HEY, WHY DON'T YOU EVER TREAT
ME TO ANY FOOD?! YOU'RE MY BUSAN DONGSAENG!”

They both ignore him.

The day starts off shitty. Taehyung usually doesn’t let these kinds of omens affect him but there’s
just a feeling in his gut.

His seven alarms fail to wake him and neither of his roommates notices, with Jimin getting up too
early and Hoseok too dead to notice anything around him. The managers are waiting for them in
the vans, so it’s not like they know. And then because they’re split into two different cars,
everyone just thinks he’s in the other one. Later, Taehyung hears that it’s not until Namjoon gets
suspicious and calls the other car that they realize Taehyung’s still in bed, asleep.

So they’re late. By a lot. Taehyung arrives disheveled and half-awake, which wouldn’t matter so
much if they were only recording the base lines for “Run” today, but there’s also a photoshoot right
after. The managers give him a stern scolding before letting him warm up his voice. The mixture of
pressure, guilt, tiredness, and the earliness of the day makes his voice a croaky mess. He sings
really badly, in fact. So bad that he begs management to let him come back again at the end of the
day so he can record his parts again.

When they arrive at the set for the jacket shoot, the make-up noonas gasp at the circles under his
eyes and spend a half hour trying to make his dull skin presentable. The delay to song recording
means a delay to the photoshoot as well so everyone’s stressed and rushing around and not in a
great mood. Taehyung apologizes to the members again but they pat him on the back and crack
lame jokes, telling him that it happens and it’s not the end of the world. He knows they’re right.
Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly which he should be thankful for, but the first half of it has
already ruined Taehyung’s psyche. By the time he’s driven back to the dorms, it’s midnight. The
audio director praised him for his perseverance in returning and redoing his parts, but Taehyung
thinks he still could’ve done better, that he shouldn’t have had to come back in the first place.
Sometimes, his voice doesn’t work the way he wants it to. He knows everyone has their off days
but secretly, he doesn’t think he has the liberty. So many people want to be idols, to succeed and
make a name for themselves, to pave their own paths down history through their hard-earned
dancing and singing skills, their stage presence.

Taehyung can’t afford to fall behind when it’s so easy to be replaced. Bangtan has only just gotten
their first win and he refuses to be anything less than one of the band’s pillars.

Jimin and Hoseok are both missing when he gets to their room, probably off practicing or grabbing
a bite together. Taehyung exhales in relief, running his hands down his clean face and collapsing in
bed. There are days when Jimin ambushing him to ask about his worries and cry with him feels like
a raft for his drowning mental state, but today is not one of them. It’s not like the day was complete
shit or anything; he just wants silence and peace right now so he can get back to normal tomorrow.

Taehyung stays curled up in that spot for a while but the temptation of his pyjamas calls to him, so
he rolls over, shimmying out of his dirty clothes into his sleep ones. He’s about to try to sleep even
with the lights on when Jungkook wanders in, closing the door behind him.

“Hey V-hyung, wanna—”

He stops. Takes a peek at the half of Taehyung’s face that isn’t smooshed into his pillow.
“Go ‘way,” Taehyung mutters, turning his back to him. He doesn’t like showing weakness,
especially not to Jungkook. Maybe because Taehyung’s his hyung. Maybe because he likes him too
much and only ever wants to look cool in front of him.

Jungkook goes quiet but he doesn’t leave. He pads closer to the bed on socked feet, leaning
forward to catch a glimpse of Taehyung’s face.

“Taetae?”

He closes his eyes, refusing to meet Jungkook’s but lacking the strength to tell him to leave again.

If this were the boy from a year ago, Taehyung thinks he might’ve left it at that. But the Jungkook
now, armed with a couple years of experience with the ups and downs of Taehyung’s moods, even
if Taehyung’s never shown him the worst of them or confided in him like he does Jimin—he
doesn’t leave. Now that Taehyung isn’t in a bunk bed anymore, it’s even easier for Jungkook to
squirm his way onto the bed and under the covers. He molds his chest to Taehyung’s back, hugs
him around the waist, and presses his face against the nape of his neck. Taehyung just sighs,
shifting closer to the wall to give him more room.

“What’d you even come in here for,” he mumbles, getting sleepier by the second with Jungkook’s
warmth seeping into him. It’s still a bit too hot for this kind of full-body contact, summer only
beginning to wind down, but Taehyung doesn’t mind in this moment.

“Wanted to game with you,” Jungkook murmurs against his skin. “Set up the Xbox and everything.
You’ve ruined my efforts.”

“Go play on your own,” Taehyung says even though the last thing he wants now is for Jungkook to
leave, ironically enough.

“’s no fun.”

“Such a baby.”

“You know it’s no fun playing alone!”

“Mm.”

Jungkook digs his fingers into the hair at the back of Taehyung’s head, ruffling it and scratching
his scalp lightly. Taehyung sighs, melting a little more.

Jungkook clears his throat. “You. Uh. You okay, hyung?” he says, his fingers soothing.

Even though he isn’t really, Taehyung answers on autopilot, “Yeah.” Either way, he doesn’t want
to talk about it. There’s nothing he really wants to say, anyway.

Jungkook hesitates for a beat but he seems to make the executive decision not to pry. As macho as
he likes to act nowadays, the shyness occasionally peeks out between the cracks of his walls, as if
he still isn’t sure he’s allowed to be completely honest or care as much as he does. Taehyung thinks
that’s a part of Jungkook, this inherent reticence, and it’ll never go away. Which isn’t necessarily a
good or a bad thing, it’s just very him. (Jokes. Taehyung totally loves it, Jungkook’s so cute.)

Yet, the tiny, huffy sigh that Jungkook lets out against his neck doesn’t sound like his usual brand
of too-shy-and-awkward-to-pry. It feels more like Jungkook is giving him space because he knows
Taehyung doesn’t want to talk and that talking might not make him feel any better. Taehyung
wonders where this emotional maturity came from and why he, self-proclaimed Expert Of
Jungkook, is only now noticing it.

“You’re gonna make a great adult someday,” Taehyung breathes out, because he’s in that weird,
melancholy sort of mood where his brain-to-mouth filter goes on vacation.

Jungkook snorts. “Well, I have been raising you guys since I came up to Seoul at the ripe age of
fifteen, so.”

Taehyung actually smiles at that. “You should say that to Jin-hyung, he’ll lose his shit.”

“Good idea. My favourite pastime: making Jin-hyung lose his shit.”

“Put it on your resume.”

“I’m sure sponsors would appreciate it.”

“Land you a nice Nike deal.”

“Augghh yess, love me some sportswear.”

“That’s all you ever wear.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“Slob.”

There’s a shift in weight behind him. Taehyung looks over his shoulder. Jungkook’s propped up on
his elbow, doing that thing where he gives Taehyung the disapproving side-eye, lips pressed so
hard into a line that his dimples are showing. He takes a pointed sweep of Taehyung’s very messy
third of the room.

“Okay, shut up,” Taehyung says. He lies back down, channeling ‘cuddle me you brat’ through his
back.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jungkook snarks as he nestles into Taehyung again, because he’s just that
annoying.

“I’m sleeping now. Go away.”

“Naw. I like it here.”

“Ugh, fine. Go turn the lights off, at least.”

Surprisingly, Jungkook obeys without protest.

Taehyung isn’t worried about waking Jungkook because the boy sleeps like an actual dead person,
but he’s still careful as he climbs over him. He heads for the kitchen, stomach growling from
skipping dinner the previous night. No one’s up and about yet. From the grayness of the room,
Taehyung estimates it to be about five in the morning.

On the way, it occurs to him that he should go clean up the Xbox in the living room. There was
this huge fight months ago about Jungkook never putting away his games and Jimin and Namjoon
tripping over the wires when they’re half-conscious in the morning. Namjoon got a huge bruise on
his knee once and Taehyung’s pretty sure he caught him sniffling from the pain.

But as Taehyung toddles into the living room, he realizes the Xbox isn’t set up. It’s sitting in a
corner with dust piling up on it because Jungkook’s been preoccupied with some new PC game
called Overwatch lately. Taehyung frowns, stares at it in confusion.

“Oh, Taehyung,” a voice rasps from behind him. He startles, turning to find Namjoon. “You doing
okay, man?”

“Yeah, I was just...” Taehyung shakes his head. “Never mind. You’re up early.”

Namjoon yawns, a big one that makes his eyes water. “Yeah, I accidentally woke up and couldn’t
go back to sleep,” he says, teetering closer on sleepy feet. “But anyway, I was actually talking
about yesterday. You know it wasn’t really your fault, right? We all should’ve been more vigilant.”

“Oh.” Taehyung feels like the normal him would be more down about what happened. Well
honestly, he still is a little bit, mostly about the singing badly thing, but he’s not feeling terrible at
all. “I was just frustrated, not being able to sing properly on a recording day of all days. But I’m
okay now. Thanks, hyung.”

“You have an amazing voice, Taehyung, you should be proud of it.”

He feels his face flush. “Geez, stop.”

Namjoon laughs, waving as he stumbles off towards the kitchen. “Jungkook did a good job
cheering you up then, huh?”

“...What?”

“He didn’t tell you? Yesterday I was about to go into your room but he was standing in front of it
looking all pensive and stuff, so I was like what are you doing, and he said ‘hyung, I’ll go.’ Closed
the door right in my face.”

Taehyung’s mouth drops open. Now that he thinks about it, it was weird that Jungkook
immediately closed the door when he was supposedly trying to get Taehyung to game with him.

“That punk pulled his acting skills on me,” Taehyung mutters, trying to be indignant even though
his heart feels like it’s turning into bubbles, the huge pink foamy type that smells like unicorns and
fulfilled dreams and overflows no matter how little you put in the bath.

“What?”

“Wow, I hate him.”

“Huh??”

“He’s the best.”

“...Yeah?”

“Never mind.” Taehyung sighs, collapsing on the sofa. “Would you mind pouring me some cereal
while you’re at it? Pretty please?”

“Uh, okay, sure.”

A ginormous grin is splitting Taehyung’s face as he skips over to Jungkook and Namjoon’s room.
His very best gaming buddy has been freaking out about Overwatch for months, so as the world’s
best hyung, he went and installed it too as a surprise for tonight. They’ve got a free evening ahead
of them plus all of tomorrow to play too. Taehyung is so excited for the snacks they’ve been
stashing for this occasion and some quality time with his bro that he could scream.

When he slams the door open without knocking, Jungkook is pulling a baseball cap over his head,
swathed in an oversized black hoodie and sweatpants. Taehyung’s smile falls.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asks.

“Yeah.” Jungkook looks both amused and confused at his flamboyant entrance. “I’m getting lamb
skewers with Suga-hyung. Why, what’s up?”

“Oh.” Taehyung deflates. “Nothing, I was just thinking we could game or something. But it’s
cool.”

If this were any other outing, he’d whine about tagging along too, but there’s always been
something different about Jungkook and Yoongi’s lamb skewer dates. Like they’re private and
you’d be intruding if you tried to join. Taehyung lowkey resents it.

And he lowkey resents their dynamic too, how Jungkook looks up to Yoongi but coddles him at the
same time, never afraid to cling or hang off of him even though for Taehyung and Jungkook, it’s
always Taehyung initiating affection in public. He knows for a fact that he’s technically the closest
to Jungkook. So what does Yoongi have that he doesn’t, why does Yoongi get to have Jungkook’s
touchy love in front of everyone else? And Hoseok and Namjoon do too, so why not Taehyung?

Okay, no. That’s not fair. Taehyung’s just being salty. He loves Yoongi, adores him in all of his
tsundere, badass-exterior, mushy-interiorness, so he’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if he
blamed Jungkook for feeling the same way.

Still salty, though.

“Oh, Taehyung.”

He snaps back to awareness, catching the weird look Jungkook has leveled on him before he turns
to see Yoongi standing in the hallway, bundled up in his fall coat and scarf. “Hyung. Uh, heard you
were going out for lamb skewers?”

“Yeah. You wanna come too?”

Taehyung looks away, feeling the corners of his mouth pull down no matter how hard he tries to
keep them neutral. “No, that’s okay. I—”

“Just come, V-hyung,” Jungkook sidles up behind him. “It’ll be fun, let’s get Suga-hyung drunk.”

“As if you could get me drunk.”

“Mmm...” Taehyung plays with one of his bracelets. “I don’t know.”

“Have you eaten dinner already?” Yoongi asks, pulling his mask on. “If you haven’t then just
come with.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Really?”

Yoongi stares at him like it’s the stupidest question he’s ever heard, including that one time a
reporter asked him if he thought Big Hit manipulated the music chart rankings for their mini
album. “Yeah? Hurry up, I’m fuckin’ starving.”

“Oh.” Taehyung stands there, long enough for Yoongi’s eyes to narrow. Then he scrambles off to
his room to root for some warmer clothing.

Was he imagining the unapproachable aura of the lamb skewer dates? Was it all in his head, or are
they just feeling up for extra company tonight?

He’s still wondering as they set off for the van, but Jungkook is in a loud, obnoxious mood today,
prodding and poking at Yoongi beside him in the middle seat and shouting along with a Big Bang
playlist he’s got blasting from his phone. Yoongi grumbles without any real anger, not even
bothering to fend him off, and the mood is infectious enough that soon Taehyung’s yelling and
dancing around in the backseat too, much to the chagrin of the manager driving them to the
restaurant.

“Mmmnnaauugghh, this is so goood,” Jungkook groans through a mouthful of skewer. His hand is
already sneaking towards another one. “How do they make it so good here?”

“It’s the soy sauce. There’s something sweet in it but I can’t figure out what it is.” Yoongi licks his
lips, frowning.

Taehyung actually really likes lamb skewers but he’s not sure he has the passion for it that these
two seem to. “I like it here,” he comments, sipping on his soda. “Makes me feel like I’m in a drama
or something.”

They’re at a secluded mom ‘n pop shop kinda place, except it’s less shop and more tent, tucked
into a darker corner of the street. Taehyung hasn’t been to a pojangmacha since his trainee days
and he’s almost forgotten how nice it can be, experiencing life like a normal person.

“Yuup, Yoongi-hyung found it last year, I think?”

“Yeah. I told Sejin-hyung about it after that first time we went and he gave his approval.” Yoongi
snorts. “Said it was good for safety reasons.”

“Do you ever think it’s weird that we have managers following us around everywhere now?”
Taehyung wonders, slumping back against the hard plastic chair. “And even bodyguards
sometimes? I mean, like, we used to have them for events or fan greets or whatever but now they’re
with us a lot more.”

“The price of fame,” Jungkook mumbles gravely, cheeks stuffed like a squirrel, and Yoongi
smacks him on the head.

“Don’t get cocky, brat.”

“All thanks to our lovely ARMY~”

Taehyung laughs at his smitten expression. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

“We’ll go even farther,” Yoongi says firmly, knocking back a shot of some of that intense stuff
Taehyung thought would burn his throat right off the one time he secretly tried.

“I still can’t believe we have a dorm with separate bedrooms now. Wait, do you think one day
we’ll have our own rooms?” Jungkook eyes grow big and bright. “Like, our dorms would be so big
everyone would have a whole room for themselves.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you hate sharing with Namjoon.”

A balled-up napkin bounces off Yoongi’s shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant!”
Jungkook whines, face reddening. “Rapmon-hyung is awesome, okay, it’s just—”

“You prefer being in Jimin and Taehyung’s room twenty-four-seven, yeah, I know.”

“Why didn’t you mention Hobi-hyung, he lives with us too,” Taehyung laughs. Yoongi smirks, his
eyes trained on Jungkook for a beat too long before he turns to Taehyung.

“’Cause we all know who he really goes there for.”

Taehyung feels his face heat up as he looks between the two of them with his mouth open, the
warmth travelling all the way down to his chest despite the chilliness of the weather.

He watched BTS Festa 2015 when it was uploaded. The fact that he and Jungkook were the only
two people to raise their hands when Yoongi asked if anyone didn’t mind their roommate but
sometimes envied what was going on in another room, well. That was material enough for a whole
night of tossing and turning. Although objectively, Jungkook raising his hand is reasonable. The
Taehyung-Jimin-Hoseok room is obviously the liveliest because there’s three of them and they
also happen to be the loudest of the members, and Jungkook is drawn like a moth to wherever his
hyungs are having fun.

Taehyung, on the other hand, does not have an excuse. Jungkook and Namjoon’s room is quiet,
each of them doing their own thing. Seokjin and Yoongi’s is even more so, especially with the
former being sensitive about sleeping in silence. There’s nothing in the other rooms Taehyung
envies or that calls to him.

His reason is just that he likes being wherever Jungkook is, and everyone knows this.

While Jungkook runs off to the nearest bathroom with the manager trailing behind him, Yoongi
stares off into the distance, rotating his empty shotglass in his hand. Taehyung feels the pressure of
his attention on him even though they’re not looking at each other.

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi finally says, his hand going still. He releases the glass and rubs the back
of his neck, clears his throat, eyes pointed elsewhere. Taehyung can’t tell if the pink of his face is
from the alcohol or something else.

“Yeah?”

“You know that...” Yoongi pauses, clears his throat again. “If there’s anything you ever wanna talk
about...I’ll listen.”

Taehyung’s mind immediately kickstarts into action, racing through the possibilities. Did their tiny
and vicious hyung find out Taehyung was the one who ate his pudding? Is this about the ten
thousand won Taehyung borrowed, like, three years ago and never returned? Or about that time in
February when Taehyung was crying in his bed after pretending the dance teacher’s scolding didn’t
 hurt, even though it really did?

A chill runs down his spine, freezing his breath in his lungs.

Is it about his feelings for Jungkook?

Apparently the two of them take too long to sort out their thoughts, because he doesn’t get a chance
to reply before their third member comes bumbling back, shoulders scrunched up to his ears. “It’s
so coolldd, what the hell,” he complains. “Wanna go home now?”

Yoongi grunts in agreement. They call a thanks over to the ahjumma and leave a few bills on the
table.

“Thanks for the meal, hyung,” Taehyung and Jungkook chorus, earning them another grunt.

They chatter about random, unimportant things on the way back to the car and Taehyung laughs at
all the right times, trying not to let the earlier conversation spook him. Something colourful in the
distance distracts them from Yoongi’s rant (about how Namjoon broke something again, who’s
surprised, literally no one). It’s an arcade glowing in the night from its flashing neon signs, trance
music booming, vibrating beneath their shoes. Taehyung blinks up at it in awe as they approach,
nostalgia washing over him. The arcades he went to with Jimin when they were students weren’t
nearly as grand as this one but he can spot a lot of familiar games inside.

“Wanna play, children?” Yoongi drawls from behind him. Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek
and pulls his phone out to check the time. It’s pretty late already, and as amazing as the arcade
looks, he’s strangely not in the mood. He glances over at Jungkook in question, surprised to find
the other boy already watching him.

“I’ll pass,” Jungkook says, looking away. “Gotta get home to play Overwatch with Taehyungie-
hyung.”

Taehyung gapes at him.

Jungkook’s small, secretive smile broadens into a full-blown grin.

“Wh—” Taehyung splutters.

“Your download was slowing down our internet this whole afternoon. And some guy called
‘Soonshimie’s Dad’ added me as a friend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, already turning around to stalk
off. “C’mon, let’s go, hyung, we got some ass to kick.”

“J-Jungkookie~!” Taehyung cries, feeling light enough to sprout wings and fly off into the sunset.
Oh, no sunset because it’s almost midnight. Okay then, off towards Mars or whatever that shiniest
star in the night sky is—no, wait, the moon, oh god. If he had to choose somewhere to go in space,
he’d definitely fly off to meet the bunny on the moon and introduce it to his bunny, yeah. Jungkook
would totally call him a weirdo and smack him if he ever told him that though.

The maknae turns around to whine some more when he sees the two of them lagging behind, so
Taehyung runs after him and leaps on his back. He nuzzles the unspoken ‘I can’t wait’ and ‘you’re
the best’ and ‘love you most’ into Jungkook’s neck, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Jungkook
sighs loudly and complains about how Taehyung ate way too much, but boosts him higher on his
back. Yoongi just trails after them, grumbling about watching their step in the darkness.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes

so i just discovered v and rm's 4 o clock and holy fucking hell slay me

also petition to make gay panic pt 2 into a song

 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Lately, there are times when Jungkook gets really quiet. Okay, to be fair, he’s a quiet person in
general unless his cray-cray mode is triggered, preferring to stay on the sidelines until he’s done
watching and learning and has decided he’s gonna do amazing enough for the hyungs to fawn over
whatever new thing they’re trying.

This past little while though, his brand of muteness has been less contented silence, more brooding.
He and Yoongi go on their lamb skewer dates at least twice a week. Taehyung isn’t invited again
and doesn’t ask to be, because he knows he isn’t imagining the vibes they’re giving off lately.

One night, they get home later than usual, and someone taps on the door of Taehyung’s room.

He gets up to open the door, thinking it's a manager or something, so he blinks in surprise at seeing
Jungkook there instead, waiting instead of barging in like he owns the place.

“Kookie,” he says, stepping aside. “Come in.”

Jungkook just stands there, brows furrowed, almost scowling. “Are Jimin-hyung and Hobi-hyung
here?”

“Nope, they’re still at the studio, I think.”

Jungkook shuffles inside, closing the door behind him. Taehyung stares at him, a bit unnerved at
how he isn’t immediately diving on to one of their beds and spreading out with a happy groan. The
first time he found Jungkook sleeping in Jimin’s bed and not his had him wallowing in jealousy for
a whole day and suffering through three separate existential crises, but he came out the other side
deciding to stop being a dick. Jungkook has the right to sleep wherever he wants, okay, and if he’s
comfortable with Jimin or likes that Hoseok smells like vanilla and bunks with them instead, that’s
fine. Totally fine. Understandable.

Taehyung doesn’t mind. At all.

“I. Uh. Wanted to tell you something,” Jungkook says. He’s trying to keep his poker face steady
but his body language betrays him, toes curled into the carpet and hands fidgeting in the kangaroo
pocket of his black hoodie.

“Yeah, sure,” Taehyung stutters out. He falls to a seat on his bed and pats the spot beside him.

Jungkook moves closer but doesn’t sit down, his shoulders stiff.

“You know you can tell me anything,” Taehyung assures him, an echo of what Yoongi said months
ago and never brought up again. The reminder of it now with this timing makes a shiver run down
his spine.

The longer the silence drags on, the taller his worry builds, and he tries not to let it show, not
wanting to deter the younger in any way.

Jungkook looks at him. His mask cracks for a second, eyes imploring, before he averts his gaze
again. He stares at some spot between the wall and the floor.
His next words are slurred like his tongue isn’t obeying him, but Taehyung hears it loud and clear
anyway.

“’m bi,” Jungkook says, hesitant and nervous. But he powers on, steel behind his words. “Bisexual,
I mean. Obviously.”

Taehyung stops breathing. He can hear the beat of his heart pounding in his ears.

Jungkook’s lips twitch and he fidgets some more in the wake of the silence.

At length, Taehyung says, “Oh,” his voice small.

Jungkook flinches a little. His hoodie pocket bulges in the shape of fists, shoulders hunching by
just a fraction. Taehyung sees it and it makes his chest hurt, gives him a surge of impulse. He’ll do
anything to take away that heartbreaking insecurity.

“M-Me too.”

He doesn’t mean for these particular words to spill out, but in the second it takes for them to sink
in, he realizes he doesn’t regret it. This is nerve-wracking, sure, but eventually he would’ve told the
members anyway. His timing could’ve been better—but no, there’s no better timing if it means he
can clear the distress from Jungkook's face with this one confession.

Jungkook’s head whips towards him, his mouth dropping so wide Taehyung would laugh if not for
the lump in his throat.

“What?” Jungkook’s voice cracks.

“I—I’m bi too.” Taehyung nods, a wobble back and forth because his neck can’t seem to find the
strength to hold his head up all of a sudden. “I, I just never told anyone. It—I dunno.” He takes a
peek up at Jungkook. “Have you told...?”

The younger nods. “Yoongi-hyung knows.”

Taehyung feels that like a stab to the heart. “You told him before you told me?” he asks quietly.

“No, he, uh.” Jungkook’s eyes dart around, lips pulling into a frown. “We were talking about some
stuff and he...asked, kinda, and I...yeah. I didn’t want to lie.”

Taehyung sits there, staring at him, then at his hands in his lap. “Okay.”

“Hyung, you’re the one I wanted to tell first.” Jungkook falls to the bed beside him, close but not
enough to touch. “I...I’ve just been worrying about how to say it.”

An image pops into his head, a younger Jungkook struggling with this all on his own, a boy who
left home at fifteen and learned everything about meaningful relationships and attraction and adult
life from his bandmates and the internet instead of his parents or other more reliable authority
figures. How confused and upset must he have been to realize that he isn’t normal in the eyes of
Korean society?

“Jungkookie,” he says softly, reaching for the other’s hand. He takes it, rubs over the prominent
veins, firm muscle, the bony knuckles. The hand of a man. One that Taehyung holds so very dear.
“Even if I wasn’t...also not-straight, you didn’t ever have to be scared. You’re still you. Jeon
Jungkook. Our beloved maknae.”
Jungkook watches Taehyung’s hands touch his, and his breathing gradually slows, his shoulders
relaxing. He doesn’t cry and Taehyung isn’t sure if he expected him to. No, he didn’t. This would
be a crying moment for anyone, probably, but Jungkook refuses the right.

“I know,” Jungkook says. He covers Taehyung’s hands with his free one, like a great big group hug
of hands. His thumb strokes over Taehyung’s skin, soothing. “Have you told anyone?”

He shakes his head.

“...Were you—” Jungkook cuts himself off.

Taehyung knows what he wants to ask but is too stubborn to say aloud, the word scared, because
Jungkook may be surprisingly mature sometimes but he’s also got the dumb pride of an emo teen,
and the thought almost makes Taehyung smile. It’s one of Jungkook’s cute points, after all. If he
isn’t allowed to be a kid for the sake of his and Bangtan’s career, the least they can do is indulge
him in this.

He shakes his head, answering in the negative. Then he changes his mind. “Actually—no, that’s a
lie. I was scared. But that’s not the reason I didn’t tell anyone.”

Jungkook’s hands still over his. “What was it then?”

Taehyung smiles wryly. “I guess the fact that I’m bisexual isn’t—wasn’t my main...concern. I
mean, we don’t have the time to date anyone.” Jungkook tilts his head, bottom lip jutting out in the
slightest pout. It’d look pretentious and deliberate on anyone else, but for Jungkook it’s all natural.
That’s another thing Taehyung likes about him and—wow, is it Obsess Over Jungkook Day today?
Why is he doing this to himself, it’s just a heart-to-heart between bros, can Taehyung’s stupid crush
fuck off somewhere already, thank you very much.

“Don’t get me wrong, I had, like, a gay panic or two,” Taehyung confesses. “But it just didn’t seem
that important, you know?” Not compared to realizing the one he likes is one of his goddamn
bandmates, anyway, haha, so funny.

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. Taehyung meets his eyes, smiling genuinely now. “Don’t worry. I’m
fine, you’re fine. Were you planning on telling anyone else?”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I think I...I was thinking of telling the others too.”

“Yeah?”

After another moment of deliberation, he makes an affirmative sound. “I have a feeling Namjoon-
hyung would be really offended if I didn’t. And Jimin-hyung too. And Jin-hyung. Okay, all of
them.”

Taehyung laughs out loud just imagining Jimin’s loud indignation at how his two BFFs didn’t
confide in him about something so important, how dare they, who do they think they are, the
nerve. He’s gonna be so petty for the rest of the week, Taehyung can already see it. “Okay. I’ll tell
them too.”

“You don’t have to, hyung,” Jungkook says quickly, eyes wide. “I’m not trying to—I won’t tell
anyone, if—”

“Jungkook-ah, don’t worry. I meant it when I said my reason wasn’t because I was scared. It just
never came up and I didn’t think it was relevant. But I might as well now that the topic’s out there,
right?”
Jungkook frowns.

Taehyung laughs and pulls him into a hug, scratching at the hair at the base of his neck. “I’m sure
if you’re sure, Kook. Let’s get it.”

Slowly, arms come up around his back and hug him tight. “Okay,” Jungkook mumbles. He doesn’t
even scold Taehyung for stealing his line.

The others take it about as well as they imagined. There’s the initial shock from everyone,
followed by moping about how they didn’t trust the members and speak up sooner (Hoseok),
copious amounts of yelling and offense (Seokjin and Jimin), ugly crying after an hour of emotional
discussion (Namjoon), and fatherly smiling (Yoongi). A weight that Taehyung didn’t even know
he was carrying dissipates from his shoulders as he grins at Jungkook from across the couch. He
isn’t about to tell anyone about his embarrassing puppy crush on the boy and probably never will,
but for tonight, he thinks that he doesn’t mind.

This is enough.

(“By the way, just ‘cause you two happen to be bi too doesn’t mean you get to overthrow me from
my position of Overlord of Bi's.”

“Wait, what? Yoongi-hyung, you’re bi too?”

“...You didn’t know?”

“Uh. No.”

“I thought everyone did. Not like I’ve been hiding it at all.”

“I thought you were just, like, an avid activist of LGBT rights.”

“Well, that too, but I’m also bi.”

“Oh. Sweet.”)

December brings a sweep of white over the cement of Seoul and along with it a schedule packed
with award shows. They’re freakishly busy but it’s also amazing on some level to be tired from
having too much work. After all, there was a time when they’d lie in their beds, seven of them
crammed into a single bedroom, wondering if disbandment was a closer threat than they knew.

For the 2015 MAMA this year, Big Hit has arranged for a collab stage with GOT7. Taehyung
loves collabs, it’s awesome getting to let loose with fellow idols, especially ones who are close in
age. Dancing on top of the moving blocks is a bit scary, what with Taehyung’s tendency to trip
over his own feet, and he’s also kind of worried about Jungkook because his block moves so
much. But most of all, he’s so goddamn proud because their Jungkookie is the center! Out of all of
BTS and GOT7! Just like he deserves!

The reminder of his favourite little guy makes Taehyung float away from Namjoon and Jackson,
the latter teasing their leader again for being distant and not meeting up with him for drinks.
Taehyung looks around backstage, wondering if Jungkook’s being an awkward lump and standing
alone somewhere again, but he doesn’t see him anywhere.
It’s only when the staff round them up for the first rehearsal that he finds him. Or hears him,
anyway, his calm voice as he pops out of one of the side rooms with a GOT7 member. Taehyung
gasps, a smile growing on his face. So Jungkook’s managed to make a friend. That’s awesome,
Taehyung’s so proud of him. Lord knows the boy needs more friends, the way he craves attention
and affection even though he’d rather get eaten by piranhas than admit it.

Taehyung’s about to approach them, teasing grin on the ready, when the GOT7 dude wraps an arm
around Jungkook’s shoulder. Taehyung blinks, surprised at the easy skinship and how Jungkook
doesn’t look uncomfortable in the least getting pulled into the side of some person he met, like,
yesterday. The guy, Yugyeom, Taehyung’s pretty sure is his name, says something to Jungkook
and Jungkook throws his head back in laughter, grabbing on to the arm around him for support.

Taehyung gawks.

A timer beeps in quick succession and the lights start dimming, so he knows he’s run out of time to
go up to them. Like magnets, his eyes are drawn to the pair while he gets herded into position,
ignoring Jimin when he nudges him in question.

Unfortunately, there’s little time for distraction during rehearsal. They have to make sure
everything’s properly coordinated and safe, leaving no room for mistakes during the short seconds
they spend on stage together. As soon as it’s over, though, Taehyung is hunting Jungkook down.
He finds him chugging a water bottle in the corner, his bangs damp at the roots with sweat.

“Jungkookie!” Taehyung chirps, skipping over and holding his hand out for the bottle. The brat
pretends to give it to him three times before Taehyung finally pouts hard enough for him to laugh
and offer it for real. Taehyung tips the water straight down his throat, hoping the coolness of it will
wash away this heat that’s pulsing in his head.

“Hey, so uh, who was that you were talking to earlier?” comes tumbling out of his mouth before
the cap is even screwed back on the bottle. Thankfully, Jungkook isn’t really paying attention to
him, his face relaxed the way it does when he’s half zoned out.

“Hm?”

“You were. Um. I think it was one of the GOT7 members? You guys were chatting?”

Jungkook blinks out of his daze. “Oh, Yugyeomie. Yeah.”

“Yu-Yugyeomie?” Taehyung splutters. Jungkook gives him a weird look.

“Yeah. He’s a 97-liner like me. We’re friends.”

Taehyung chokes. Not on water or spit or anything, just pure shock. “Friends? Like, chingu as in
we’re-the-same-age or chingu as in we’re-gonna-be-texting-all-the-time-from-now-on-like-an-
obnoxious-couple-in-the-honeymoon-stage?”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “The...first one.” He glances away, pursing his lips. “But the second
one would be cool too, I guess. He’s funny. And we get along pretty well.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops.

All right, all right, so objectively, Taehyung knows he’s being a total asshole. Jungkook already
has, like, zero friends outside of Bangtan because he’s too damn shy to open his mouth around
people unless it’s to cram food in it. So this is a really good thing for him. Someone his age too,
isn’t that absolutely perfect? He needs himself a platonic soulmate, just like Taehyung has Jimi—

Just—

Just like he has Jimin—

Okay, yeah, no.

No no no, nopity nope nope.

Taehyung hates the idea with every atom of his being, what the fuck. Jungkook doesn’t need a
platonic soulmate, what does he need one for when Taehyung and his five other hyungs exist
already, hello?

“Awwwwwwwww, is our widdle Taehyungie jealous?” Hoseok coos, pinching his cheeks. “Is that
what this is aboouuut? Worried you won’t be our maknae’s favourite anymoooore?”

Taehyung knows it’s supposed to be a joke, but a boulder drops into his stomach at the thought.
Can he be replaced so easily? Sometime in the future, will Jungkook find himself more
comfortable confiding in Yugyeom or someone else instead?

“Taehyung-ah,” Hoseok says, hands falling from his face. “Hey, I was just kidding, you know
that.”

“...”

“C’mon, don’t make that face.”

“’m not making a face.”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I-I’m not gonna cry,” Taehyung mutters, clutching the cushion to his face and digging himself
deeper into the couch.

“Honestly, I kinda get it.” Jimin’s sitting across from him on the other end of the couch, legs
spread, slumped so far down he looks about ready to slide entirely off. No one would be surprised,
the guy has some sort of negative affinity with chairs and seats of all types. “You should’ve seen
them, hyung. Jungkook was laughing. Like, not that fake one when he’s feeling awkward, his real
laugh. And he let Yugyeom hang all over him like it was no big deal! Our antisocial brat! Being
touchy!”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Wow, really?”

“Yeah!”

“Bet it’s ‘cause Yugyeom games,” Taehyung scoffs. Not bitter at all, nah, nothing here but
sunshine and rainbows. “Jungkook opens up like some sort of blooming flower as soon as you start
talking about his favourite games, it’s no big deal.”

Jimin recoils, upper lip curling. “Did you...just use the words blooming flower to describe
Jungkookie?”

Too far into sulking, Taehyung’s filter fails him. “What. You know he’s the prettiest out of all of
us.”
The pause that follows makes the hair on his arms stand, and he pulls his face out of the cushion to
peer up at his friends. Jimin only looks suspicious but Hoseok’s staring at him with something
edging too close towards understanding, and Taehyung quickly sits up, adrenaline shooting
through him.

He’s not sure what’s eliciting this reaction from them. The members constantly spew compliments
about how cool, handsome, good-looking, buff they are, wanting to boost each other’s confidence
because they’ve seen everyone at their worst, back when they were younger and insecure,
ridiculed, nothing but specks in the sea of idols. Sure, maybe ‘pretty’ isn’t the most common word
for them to use, but still. Was it the tone he said it in? Was he too honest?

Getting all defensive now would only dig a deeper hole, so he quickly changes the subject in a way
he knows will work against people as empathetic as these two. “Guys, you know I’m just teasing,
right, about Yugyeom? It’s good that Jungkook is making friends. He deserves all the friends in the
world, so we shouldn’t act jealous or anything in front of him or he’ll get embarrassed about it.”

Jimin immediately takes the bait, sitting up straight and huffing at him. “Of course we know that!
A little joking never hurt anyone.” Hoseok responds just as enthusiastically but Taehyung can see
it, the thoughtfulness behind his eyes. Hoseok’s always been shrewder than he acts. Dangerous.

The three of them eventually split, Jimin to the shower and Hoseok to make an evening snack.
Taehyung stays on the couch, wondering when Jungkook will be back from his vocal lessons,
wondering when Taehyung let himself become so selfish. He prides himself on being the loudest
patron of Jungkook’s talents and other good points. He loves to show him off, encourages him to
speak up during variety shows, knowing his hilarious faces and spot-on imitations shine in that
setting. He cues him to dance and sing whenever the opportunity comes up. He watches from the
back, puffed up with pride as Jungkook does his thing on stage, making the crowd scream for him.
It would be a lie if Taehyung said he didn’t envy his extraordinary talent or the fact that when
Jungkook learns something new, he both starts at a level far above average and improves at a scary
rate. As long as he puts in the effort, he excels. It’s normal to be envious of someone like that.

But envy is different from jealousy and Taehyung has never thought of himself as the jealous type.
He’s felt it in flashes when Jungkook meshes well with the hyungs, and a yearning will rise inside
him for something special only between the two of them, for some kind of affirmation.

This feels different. It’s almost like he’s scared.

The door opens then slams shut, followed by a sigh, and Taehyung listens to Jungkook’s familiar
footsteps drag into the living room.

“Taehyungie-hyung,” Jungkook moans as soon as he sees him on the couch. “I’m so tired.”

“Welcome back,” he says, smile coming to him effortlessly despite his earlier angsting. “Been a
long day, huh?”

Jungkook flops on top of him, knocking a wheeze out of his lungs. The guy gets heavier by the day
with the way he’s started working out, but he’s like a grown dog unaware that he isn’t a puppy
anymore and still falls all over everyone with his full weight.

Actually, nah. Knowing Jungkook, he’s probably completely aware and just enjoys being a pain in
the ass.

“Are you trying to crush me, you enormous manchild?” Taehyung gasps, shoving at his shoulders.
His theory is proven when Jungkook only snorts in amusement, face glued to Taehyung’s chest. If
there’s makeup getting smeared all over Taehyung’s favourite home shirt, he’s gonna throw this
kid straight on the floor, he swears. “Maybe you should go sleep early. MAMA’s tomorrow, you
know. You’re gonna be complaining all morning about how ugly you are if you sleep late.”

“Mmm, in a bit.”

Pathetically weak for him, Taehyung relents, brushing a hand through the other’s hair, down his
neck, over his back. Jungkook lets out this tiny purr of a sigh. Whatever, he can complain all he
wants tomorrow. Taehyung could write a thesis about how Not Ugly he is all the time, any time,
and he’s not afraid to tell him.

Something vibrates against Taehyung’s thigh. He looks down when it doesn’t stop. “I think
someone’s calling you, Jungkookie.”

“Mrrghhhff.”

“You’re not gonna pick up?”

“Hmfggh.”

“Wait, it’s not a sasaeng or anything, is it? Did your number get leaked again?”

“Mmnno. Just too lazy.”

Taehyung chuckles, petting his hair some more. “Want me to check who it is?” Jungkook grunts in
agreement and Taehyung fishes the phone out of his jeans pocket. “Oh. It’s. ‘Yugyeomie.’”

Jungkook’s eyes snap open and he grabs the phone, quickly swiping the accept button. “Hello?
Yugyeom? Hey...yeah, I just got home. What’s up, why’re you...oh, seriously? Haha. No, I think
around six tomorrow...uh huh.”

Slowly he slides off of Taehyung, who panics for a moment, inexplicably. To his immense relief,
instead of leaving, Jungkook settles down flat on his back with their arms and legs pressed
together. The couch isn’t nearly wide enough for two grown men to lie next to each other, so
Taehyung turns on his side and pulls Jungkook’s shoulder flush against his chest. He keeps the arm
over his middle, only to make sure he isn’t too close to the edge. Jungkook’s eyes fall on
Taehyung’s face but it doesn’t seem like he’s actually seeing it, engrossed as he is in his
conversation.

The call ends in the next minute. There’s a small, happy smile on Jungkook’s lips as he drops his
phone on the coffee table and flops right back down, eyelids already fluttering with sleep.

Taehyung taps his fingers against his belly restlessly. He swallows and goes for casual when he
asks, “Why’d he call?”

“Hm? Ah, just talking about what time we’re getting there tomorrow. For MAMA.”

“You guys sound close.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I guess. I don’t have any friends my age.” He pauses. “Not that I really need
any, honestly, but it’s kind of nice.”

Taehyung instantly feels like a big fat blob of guilt. “I’m happy for you,” Taehyung tells him, and
he means it as long as he gets himself to let go of his stupid insecurity for one second. “As your
hyung, I’m hereby giving you permission to make as many friends as you want. But only if I stay
number one in your heart.” He blows a cheesy kiss, lips puckered dramatically. Jungkook exhales a
laugh and pinches the skin under Taehyung’s chin.

“You smell that? It’s my heart burning for you,” Jungkook declares, just as disgustingly cheesy.

Taehyung laughs and smacks him on the back.

Park Bogum is something like a guardian angel and the devil on Taehyung’s left shoulder all rolled
into one. Taehyung first calls him when he finds out they have a mutual pal, acting purely on the
instinct that Bogum seems like a cool guy after they met as fellow MCs for Music Bank. And
somehow after a short week of texting, Taehyung already knows this man will become one of his
most important friends. They just click, somehow.

Bogum is a hyung in age and also a sunbae in the industry, and he acts like it too, giving Taehyung
advice, encouraging him, coddling him, gently offering his opinion when Taehyung needs a
different perspective. They get into deep talks about life and the future and other heavy stuff more
quickly than Taehyung’s ever done with anyone else.

But while Bogum is warm and mature like a hyung, he’s also silly, something of a wild spirit, just
like Taehyung. They share a bunch of interests—Bogum likes composing music and writing lyrics
too, which is unexpected of an actor but Taehyung welcomes wholeheartedly. And being around
him makes Taehyung feel light and free, enough to do things he’d usually be too afraid to do. They
take public transportation during their hangouts. He confesses things he wouldn’t necessarily bring
up with his members, like wishing he could have more lines or wanting to sing an OST ballad.
BTS might be family but they also share the burden of carrying the team together, and Taehyung
doesn’t want to draw attention to his personal motivations because the team is number one for him
too. With Bogum, though, there isn’t that pressure. When they’re alone, they can be Kim Taehyung
and Park Bogum, two young adults having fun, striving to make an art out of their careers,
stumbling their way through life.

“Why’re you grinning like a creep,” a voice says in his ear.

Taehyung shouts, his phone dropping on the sofa before slipping and plunking on the floor. He
turns to find Jungkook, arms curled against his chest as he laughs, high and breathy.

“You should’ve seen your face!” he crows, pointing a finger at Taehyung.

“Shut up, you scared the shit outta me!” he groans. He picks up his phone to find that he sent a
keyboard mash to Bogum. “Ugh, now I can’t remember what I was gonna say.”

“Who you textin’?”

“Bogumie-hyung.”

The abrupt silence behind him feels off but Taehyung gets distracted when Bogum sends back a
random jumble of emoticons. He chuckles, thumbs flying over the keyboard to reply.

There’s a hummed version of “All I Want For Christmas” elsewhere in the apartment that gets
louder and louder until Jimin wanders into the living room. He stops when he spots them.
“Taehyung, shouldn’t you be getting ready? We’re leaving in five minutes.”

That gets his attention. This time, he notices Jungkook is wearing his discreet outside clothes,
baseball cap clenched in his fist. Jimin is dressed similarly, his coat already pulled on.
“Wait, where are we going? I thought we had the rest of the evening off.”

“We do, that’s why we’re doing a good ol’ Bangtan dinner. Did you forget? We’ve been talking
about this for days.”

Taehyung feels the blood drain from his face. “Oh, shit. Fuck, I totally—shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“No, I—I told Bogumie-hyung I’d be getting dinner with him.” At this, Jungkook lets out a sound
that almost sounds like a scoff, scowling fiercely at the wall. “I can’t cancel on him again, I
already did last time when we were called into the office for a meeting.”

A furrow appears between Jimin’s brows but before he can say anything, Seokjin walks in all
bundled up too. Dread is starting to crawl into Taehyung’s stomach. Seokjin looks at the three of
them.

“What’s wrong, kids? Who died?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I forgot we were getting dinner together.” Taehyung fiddles with the sleeve of
his sweatshirt. “I—I was gonna eat with Bogumie-hyung and I cancelled on him once already, I
shouldn’t again...”

“Oh,” Seokjin says. “Is that it? Phew, I thought something serious happened. Don’t worry about it,
Taehyung-ah, go eat with Bogum-ssi.”

He frowns, guilt eating up his insides. The seven of them have been so busy lately that they haven’t
had any group bonding time, but today is also the only chance he’ll have to see Bogum before the
winter programs and Christmas and New Year’s take up all their time.

“Are you sure, hyung? I’m really sorry, I—”

“Taehyung. It’s fine, okay?” Seokjin pats him on the shoulder. “You see us twenty-four-seven
already, we can eat together some other time. Don’t worry, we’ll order aaaaalllll the food you love
most and eat your share for you and send you tantalizing, delicious pictures so you know what you
missed out on.”

“Hyuuung.”

“Oh, but you’re only allowed to go if you promise you love us more than Bogum.”

“Of course I do!” Taehyung says immediately, offended. “You guys are on a whole other level,
come on.”

Seokjin nods graciously. “Good, that’s settled then. Now come along, my other children. The car’s
waiting.”

“What about the hyungs?” Jimin asks.

“They went straight to the restaurant from the studio.”

“Ohh, okay. Nice. Bye then, Taehyung-ah!” Jimin waves, walking backwards towards the door.
“Have fun! See ya tonight!”

“I will. Thanks, Jiminie.” Taehyung turns to say bye to Jungkook too, but the younger’s nowhere to
be seen. The door clicks shut behind Jimin and Taehyung looks around the empty room, baffled.
When he crawls towards the other end of the couch to peek outside the window, he finds
Jungkook’s hunched figure already squeezing into the van. He frowns, confused and a little hurt.

His phone buzzes in his lap. He jumps to his feet when he sees the time. “Shiittt, I’m gonna be
late!”

It’s midnight when Taehyung sneaks his way back into the dorms, feeling like a teenager who
stayed out past curfew. The lights are off except for a single lamp in the living room where
Namjoon’s poring over his notebook, pen in right hand, chicken skewer in left.

“Hey, hyung,” Taehyung whispers. “Whatcha doing?”

It takes a second for Namjoon to peel himself away from the marked up paper. “Oh, hey,” he says,
taking a bite of the skewer. “I’m on a creative roll, gotta get this down before I forget. How was
dinner?”

“Good, we went to a BBQ restaurant in Hongdae. What about you guys?”

“Wow, talk about sync. We also got BBQ.” Namjoon holds up the skewer sheepishly. “Yoongi-
hyung was a genius and ordered extra to take home. My poor brain cells need it after going into
overdrive.”

Taehyung smiles. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I’ll try, hah.”

He runs into Hoseok in the bathroom putting on a face mask, the rapper greeting him
enthusiastically before fake-bitching about him abandoning them.

“Bros before hoes, man,” he whines, unaccompanied by the usual pout because he hates wrinkling
the mask after painstakingly smoothing it on.

“He isn’t even a hoe,” Taehyung laughs through the toothpaste foaming in his mouth.

“But he’s good-looking, isn’t he?” Hoseok waggles his brows. “Do you...you know? Is he your
type?”

Maybe it should be more unnerving how the members have so easily accepted that he likes both
girls and guys. It’s as if in their mental Handbook of How To Be A Hyung, ‘and boys’ was
automatically and effortlessly added to entry #6: ‘Tease him about girls.’ A seamless assimilation
into their long list of knowledge about him.

It’s not unnerving, though. Just an extension of their normal interactions. And Taehyung has
always known it would be this way.

“So? Is he?” Hoseok’s sparkling eyes are trained on him now and he remembers the question.

“Nah,” he snorts. “He’s good-looking and nice, but no.”

Like he has the room to think about anyone else when the world’s most handsome, adorable,
endearing creature lives in the same house as him.
After his shower, Taehyung makes sure Namjoon is still curled over his notebook before marching
unannounced into Jungkook’s room. The maknae barely spares him a glance, his attention on the
computer screen, face cast in its shifting colours. Taehyung flicks the switch beside him, half
blinding himself.

“Ow!” Jungkook covers his face. “My eyeballs!”

“Why’re you gaming in the dark when Namjoon-hyung isn’t even in here? You’re gonna ruin your
vision.”

Jungkook moans and groans some more without actually replying and Taehyung walks up to him,
pulling his headphones off. There’s no music coming out of them. “Wow, you were ignoring me?
Mean.”

Jungkook grumbles, pulling his hands from his face to reveal bloodshot eyes. He glares. “What do
you want, hyung. I’m busy.”

Taehyung glances pointedly as his screen. “You’re queueing for a match in the lobby, you can
spare a few minutes.”

Jungkook looks away, resolutely silent, arms crossing over his chest.

“Why are you mad at me?” Taehyung asks quietly. He’s trying not to let himself show how
bothered he is even though it’s been on his mind all night. Jungkook might have a quick temper but
it’s usually nothing more than a spike of annoyance that fades as fast as it comes. He’s rarely mad
for long, and even if he is, never at Taehyung. “Is it because I ditched you guys?”

“I’m not mad,” he huffs.

“What is it then? You don’t like Bogumie-hyung?”

Jungkook closes his eyes, one side of his lips twitching upwards in a mocking smirk. His cheek
bulges where his tongue stabs at it. “I don’t have a problem with him,” he says, voice flat. “It’s
whatever, hyung. I’m just tired.”

Taehyung stands there for a moment, grappling with shock and hurt and the desire to scold
Jungkook like an actual hyung for once in his life. He didn’t even get to fully enjoy hanging out
with Bogum because he couldn’t freaking stop thinking about how Jungkook flat-out ignored him
and left without a word. Taehyung didn’t mean to forget about dinner with the guys. Is it necessary
to be this mad?

He continues to stand there, confused and hesitant, and Jungkook looks more and more
uncomfortable until he finally sighs, guilt and something else Taehyung can’t name in his frown.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m. Being stupid. Let’s forget about this.”

Taehyung stares at him as he turns back to his computer and pulls up a web page, typing YouTube
into the search bar as if on autopilot. Eyes narrowed, Taehyung studies him, trying to place why
this whole situation feels uncannily familiar. “Jungkookie?” he tries.

Jungkook ignores him, browsing through music covers now. He doesn’t seem mad anymore, just
sulky as he continues to scroll without any sign of stopping.

An age later, that familiar expression falls into place like a puzzle piece.
Taehyung leans down and kisses Jungkook on the ear. Jungkook stiffens.

“You know that no matter how many friends I make, none of them could ever replace Bangtan. Or
you.” Taehyung gives him a stern glare. “I love you guys the most.”

Jungkook’s frozen in place, his mind visibly going a mile a minute, weakening his poker face.

There was a time when Taehyung kissed him every opportunity he got, all over the face,
sometimes his ears, using brotherly affection as an excuse because they were kids and it was
acceptable. But the fact that he didn’t feel comfortable doing it in front of the cameras was
indication enough that he knew in the back of his mind he was taking advantage, and so when the
remorse got too heavy for him to carry, he started toning it down even when they weren’t being
filmed.

In this moment, he can’t resist. He bends down again, cupping Jungkook’s cheeks and planting a
big, wet kiss on his forehead over his bangs. Then he brushes the hair away for a third kiss on bare
skin. “Jungkookie,” he coos, “my cute little Jungkookie.”

Jungkook seems to snap out of it at that, shoving at him and growling, but that only makes him
want to tease him more so he climbs on to his lap, straddling his legs and ruffling his soft, fluffy
hair.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispers, grinning hard. “But you’re my favourite. Shh, it’s a secret.”

For the first time in a while, he gets the pleasure of watching Jungkook’s face go red. “That’s not
—I didn’t—” he insists.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Taehyung hugs him, petting his head carefully because Jungkook is
precious. “I know how it feels, don’t worry.”

Jungkook goes quiet. It’s another moment of stubbornness before he hugs Taehyung back, arms
tight around his back.

“No you don’t,” he mumbles.

“I do, trust me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes, you brat.”

“...Really?” Taehyung can hear the pout in the question. He buries his sad little smile against
Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Really.”

Jungkook thinks for a bit. Taehyung wonders if he’s psyching himself up to say something
important but he ends up with, “Hate to burst your bubble but it seems like you’re under the
impression that I was jealous, and I really wasn’t.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. “Uh huh.”

“Seriously,” the younger says in his I’m Very Serious and Life Is Unfair and Listen To Me Before
I Complain For The Rest Of The Day tone.

“Oh my god, shut up, will you.”

Jungkook pouts some more. But he bounces back quickly, making Taehyung hide a grin against his
shirt when he asks, “...Overwatch with me?”

“Ugh, fine,” Taehyung says, like he isn’t already sliding off Jungkook to go grab his laptop. “That
was anti-climactic.”

Jungkook pretends not to hear him, flapping a hand at him to hurry up as he puts his headphones
back on.

In the week leading up to Christmas, Jungkook is so affectionate it scares Taehyung a little.

“You’re pronouncing ‘ecstatic’ wrong,” Jimin informs him helpfully during their lunch break
between filming for Gayo episodes. “Alternatively, ‘over the moon.’”

“No, I mean it, Jiminie! Watch this.”

Taehyung walks as casually as he can over to Jungkook who’s stuffing his face with jjamppong,
and cautiously drapes himself over his back. The guy usually hates when people disturb him while
he’s eating, especially with something as easy to choke on as noodles. Jungkook glances over his
shoulder to see who the pest is. The small wrinkle between his brows smooths out when he sees
Taehyung.

“Ahh,” Taehyung says, and Jungkook wordlessly feeds him a mouthful. He chews, swallows, and
licks his lips clean. Then he kisses Jungkook on the shell of his ear. And because he has negative
self-restraint, on his earlobe, and on the sharp line of his jaw, which moves under his lips as the
younger continues to chew. Taehyung keeps a hawkish eye trained on his side profile. Jungkook
doesn’t look even one iota annoyed, the corners of his lips curling up by a tiny centimeter and a
hint of an arc in his eyes when he blinks.

Taehyung returns to Jimin’s side, smug. Jimin gapes at him in horrified silence.

“What kind of black magic—” he hisses, grabbing Taehyung’s arm.

Taehyung shrugs. “Holiday spirit?” he tries, and Jimin barks out a laugh. Furtively, Taehyung
wonders if it was the conversation they had last week, if Jungkook being more tolerating of his
clinginess has anything to do with him admitting he likes Jungkook best, and if that really is the
case, what does that even mean? Taehyung’s generally a pretty good thinker but this makes his
head feel like exploding.

“Our baby’s all grown up now,” he sniffs, wiping away an imaginary tear. “Do you think he’s
getting past his emotional constipation?”

“Please. He could be ninety-two and he’d still be our emotionally constipated baby.” Jimin stops,
tilting his head. “You know he’s gonna be an adult next year? Isn’t that weird? Time really flies,
huh.”

“Holy crap, you’re right. What the hell.”

“He’s gonna be a man before we know it.”

For some reason, that makes Taehyung’s chest twinge. “Yeah.”

Their schedule for the day ends before dinnertime but Jungkook doesn’t crawl into Taehyung’s bed
until well into the AM. The fact that he’s here isn’t a surprise—he’s been slipping in with
Taehyung every night ever since their little Bogum talk—but the lateness of it is.

“Junggoo?” Taehyung murmurs in response to the warm body pressing into his back. He rolls
around to nestle his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, breathing in his clean-laundry smell. It’s
too cold for the younger to go around sleeping shirtless lately (a shame, cough cough) but
Taehyung enjoys the solidity and heat of his body too much even through his pyjamas. “Late...” he
complains, already more than ninety percent unconscious.

Jungkook makes a tired noise between a groan and a sigh. “Was working on something.”

“Mmm...okay.”

He finds out what the project was a couple days later on Christmas Eve when Jungkook uploads
his cover of “Paper Hearts.”

It’s beautiful and sad even though Taehyung doesn’t understand all the lyrics, gets him feeling
sentimental, especially paired with the softness of the gray sky and soundless snow outside the
window.

Minutes later, Jungkook sends him a private Kakao message that reads, 123.

Taehyung’s pretty sure the cryptic text is linked to the cover, probably, with the timing and all but
he has no idea how to solve the mystery. His first guess is that “123” is supposed to represent his
birthday since it’s a few short days away.

happy bday to me? :D :D :D he texts back, but only gets an unhelpful kekeke in reply. He figures
that isn’t right so he goes back to listen to the cover another two times.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for the light bulb to go off. He pauses the song at 1:23 and
listens closely. His English isn’t as good as he wishes it were, though, so he searches up the lyrics,
turning the volume up before stuffing his earphones in.

When there’s cameras, Jungkook’s breathy, heartbreaking voice spills into his ears, and I just can’t
reach out to tell you...that I always wonder what you’re up to.

Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat.

He pauses the song. He drags the marker back to a minute and twenty seconds and hits play again,
listens one more time. Copies and pastes the line into Naver Translate, then searches each word
separately in the dictionary, just to be perfectly sure.

Jungkook meant this for him, right? He pointed out these lyrics specifically to Taehyung, so
they’re meant for him?

He tears out his earphones and bursts out of his room, his feet numb as he trips over to Namjoon
and Jungkook’s room and slams their door open. Namjoon isn’t there, thankfully, but Jungkook
isn’t either and it’s only then that Taehyung realizes he’s probably still at the studio.

“Fuck,” he grits out, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

He lets this drawback pull him back to sanity for a second, wondering if he’s overreacting. Nothing
is explicitly said in those lyrics, but what else can Jungkook not tell him in front of cameras? If he’s
wondering all the time what Taehyung is doing—that sounds dangerously close to the longing
Taehyung himself is constantly fighting a losing battle against.

He storms out of the room and over to the dorm entrance, ready to grab his shoes and run all the
way to the goddamn studio if he needs to, when the front door opens.

Jungkook stares at him, his expression open for an instant before the shutters come down. He toes
off his Timberlands and drops his backpack on the floor.

“Hey, hyung,” he says, nonchalant. “Did you see my cover?”

Taehyung does not have the patience for this roundabout bullshit right now. He waits for the exact
second the shoe parts from Jungkook’s foot and is falling to the floor before he grabs him by the
wrist and drags him to Taehyung’s empty room. The door shuts behind them when Taehyung
pushes Jungkook against it, more for something to steady himself with than anything else.

Whatever words he was meaning to say, any questions or accusations or pleas, die in his throat at
the fear breaking through the fissures of Jungkook’s indifferent mask.

Taehyung’s heart swells until he thinks he might suffocate.

“Jungkook,” he breathes, overwhelmed. His hands are shaking but his body feels like a block of
concrete, rigid and unmovable. His chest aches, a thousand times worse than the sour, lemony
feeling he’s grown used to. It’s acid burning up his heart, eating up his lungs.

The confession he’s had locked inside his ribcage for so long is on the tip of his tongue, so close,
all he needs to do is work his mouth properly to form the words. Contrary to how physically
affectionate he is, Taehyung is not good at expressing his feelings in words. He has a tendency to
ramble, get distracted, or during a crucial moment he’ll suddenly lose his courage, all his put-upon
bravado abandoning him. When he’s making friends, it’s easy to be proactive because he can be
relatively certain most people don’t go out of their way to reject friendships. But confessions
obviously aren’t incomparable to that.

He wants to tell Jungkook so badly that he loves him as family, but likes him as so much more.

He cups Jungkook’s face in his hands, his beautiful, handsome face, and takes in those gorgeous
round eyes, eyes he’s never, ever seen anything similar to, and he wants.

His lips are already shaping the words when a sound comes from outside. The creak of a door,
followed by muffled voices.

Like a bucket of ice water thrown in his face, the reminder of the other members yanks him back to
reality. He thinks of the show they just finished recording this morning and the one they have lined
up for tomorrow. Yoongi, coming down with a fever but powering on like five hours of sleep is
enough to defeat it; Jimin, still at the practice room this late at night; Seokjin, in the kitchen,
probably brewing a cup of yuzu tea for his throat because it’s sore from how much he’s been
practicing.

Taehyung is selfish and impulsive and lives in his own world sometimes, but he can’t afford this
 type of selfishness when he’s got his family of six counting on him.

He reminds himself of this, but still, Taehyung is Taehyung no matter how mature of a person he
tries to be. A compromise. He can make do with that.

So he leans in and touches his lips to Jungkook’s left eyelid. Then he trails barely-there pecks
down the bridge of his nose, and carefully up to the apple of his cheek.

He presses a chaste but firm kiss on the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, closer than he’s ever dared to
get before, and lingers there, eyes half-lidded as he stares into Jungkook’s wide ones.

Jungkook doesn’t move but he doesn’t look appalled or disgusted or anything else Taehyung’s
imagined a thousand times during his darker days. A little bit rattled, flustered, but he doesn’t push
Taehyung off or make a snarky remark to shatter the moment. He only continues to stare, his gaze
darting from Taehyung’s left to right eye, then back.

Slowly, he softens under Taehyung’s body, his face melting into something quietly gentle. His
hands brush over the elder’s ribs, feather-light.

Taehyung’s eyes close in relief.

I like you so much, he lets himself think in his mind.

When he opens his eyes, he thinks he can see the reciprocation in Jungkook’s tiny smile.

Chapter End Notes

thanks for reading, i would loooOOOOVVE to hear what u thought <3

 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“V-hyung? Where are you going?”

Taehyung finishes zipping up his coat and pulls his bag over his shoulder. “To film Celeb Bros,”
he answers, taking a quick glance around the car to make sure he didn’t forget anything. “You
didn’t see it on the schedule?”

“No.” Jungkook sounds like he’s been personally betrayed. “It wasn’t there.”

“Ah, right, I think we made a last-minute change ‘cause Minjae couldn’t do Friday.”

“Oh.” Jungkook frowns, his mouth disappearing behind his scarf. “It’s so late already.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Eh, what can you do? Not his fault we’re so busy.” He scoots towards the car
door, giving Jungkook a last pat on the knee and calling out his goodbyes to the other members
who are mostly passed out in the middle and backseats. “Sleep earlier today, yeah?” he tells him.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, giving him a wave and turning away, his face blank except for how his
upper lip creeps up a fraction in a pout. Taehyung shoves way down the urge to coo and make
kissy faces at him, and exits the car.

Minjae takes freaking forever to arrive so he burns time by spam-texting him and the Bangtan
group chat. Not his private conversation with Jungkook though, ‘cause he knows there’s a camera
on him right now, filming him waiting for Minjae to pick him up, and he doesn’t want it capturing
any mushy expressions he isn’t able to school quickly enough.

When he arrives at last, Minjae greets him warmly with a hug that’s only awkward because they’re
being watched while pretending they aren’t. Taehyung forgets all of that quickly though as they
catch each other up on their lives. It helps when he demands for Minjae to stop speaking formally
to him because he doesn’t in private and there’s just something weird about being on the receiving
end of formal speech when Taehyung’s friend groups mostly consist of hyungs. The only person he
hangs out with regularly who’s younger than him is Jungkook.

(And so what if a teensy weensy part of Taehyung prefers for Minjae to use banmal because having
Jungkook be the only one who talks to him formally makes him feel some kind of way? No one has
to know, shhh.)

He hasn’t had so much fun in a while, watching Minjae struggle not to shriek during the foot
massage, cheating when he cuts across the track during their skateboard race, winning their little
basketball competition and making Yoongi proud (he’ll get a hair ruffle when he tells him
tomorrow). Something about eating outdoors on this bench in the middle of nowhere, steam rising
from their sausages and ramyeon into the cold winter air, makes the food taste freaking amazing .
He’s suddenly hit with the craving for some rice, which will go perfectly with their leftover
ramyeon soup. His stomach was teetering on the edge of hunger all day with how full their
schedule was and now the craving is impossible to ignore.

“I'm gonna go buy rice,” he tells Minjae, jumping up from the bench. He grins like a creep as the
ahjumma rings him up, already imagining the deliciousness in his mind, saliva pooling on his
tongue.
On his way out of the convenience store, his phone rings. His heart jumps when he sees who it is.

“Hey,” he answers, totally chill and not squealing at a pitch only dogs can hear on the inside or
anything.

“Taehyungie-hyung. Where are you?”

“I’m still filming.”

“Oh. Having fun?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it when I’m back.”

Jungkook hums, accompanied by the sound of rustling of cloth, like he’s in bed. “Are you gonna
be much longer?” Taehyung pulls his phone away from his ear, checks the time.

“Uhh, I’ll probably get home around three?” He winces a little, already knowing the concern he’s
going to get bombarded with tomorrow morning. The members have been splitting their time
between fussing over his and Yoongi’s health after the incident a few days ago when they both
weren’t feeling well and ended up cancelling a concert.

“So late,” Jungkook berates him, right on cue, and Taehyung knows he’d be flying into a rant if
they both didn’t know work was work and that that’s just the reality of being an idol.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he laughs. “Go to bed, silly, I know you’re about to pass out.”

“Am not. Can’t sleep so I’ll probably be up when you’re back.”

His heart warms. That’s pretty much Jungkook language for ‘I’ll wait till the ends of time for you
to get back, hyung.’ “If you insist,” he teases.

“Whatever. By the way, can you buy me a bag of chips? You know, my favourite ones.”

“You have, like, ten million different favourite chips, I have no idea which one you’re referring
to.”

“No, it's the type in the shiny yellow bag, that really crunchy one we always share? Non-spicy.”

“Oh, thaat. ‘Kay, I’ll grab it if I get the chance later.”

“Mm. Be careful on your way back.”

“Yeah, I know. See ya soon.”

“Bye.”

He jogs back to Minjae, about to apologize for the long absence, but then he spots the birthday
cake.

“Duuuuude!” he cries, stupefied and feeling a bit like weeping. He trudges over, admiring how
pretty the mass of icing is. Minjae tells him to blow out the candles and then they sit back down
and Taehyung stuffs an entire piece of the cake in his mouth with his chopsticks to wash away his
angst with whipped cream. Other than his members, he hasn’t gone out to celebrate his birthday
with anyone before, not formally. The combination of the care in Jungkook’s voice and this mini
impromptu party is pushing him dangerously into sentimental territory.
“Thank you, Minjae, seriously,” he says when their food containers are empty and a good chunk of
the cake is gone. “Today was so nice.”

Minjae’s answering grin is as cozy and brilliant as a bonfire. “No problem, hyung. Happy
birthday!”

“Thanks. Happy early new year! Oh, I’ll text you that on the actual day of too, but you know, it’s
nice to say in person.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Happy early new year~”

Taehyung leans back on his hands, legs spread wide over the bench. The food in his belly makes
him feel warm, sleepy, and loose. He wants to ask about Minjae’s love life because this seems like
the perfect timing to get into that kind of corny sleepover talk, but the production crew would have
to cut out the scene and they’ve already been made to stay out late enough.

“I’m so gonna spam you tomorrow on KaTalk.”

Minjae doesn’t seem to know how to interpret this information, but he looks amused and
welcoming when he says, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Taehyung gets to his feet and brushes off his pants. He gathers up their trash, collecting it into a
couple neat piles, and Minjae follows his lead. Absently, it occurs to Taehyung that Jungkook,
their resident cleaner-upper, Mr. Meticulous himself, would be proud of him because cleaning up is
usually the bane of Taehyung's existence, but this is the least he can do after his friend’s surprised
him with a whole-ass cake.

“Ready to head back now? Sorry for keeping you out late.”

Minjae waves a hand at him. “Oh please, it was great to see you after forever.”

“Same, bro. Same.”

Jungkook’s lying on the couch when Taehyung gets back, the only source of light in the room his
phone, illuminating his face in a creepy white-blue shade.

He brightens when he sees Taehyung, a slow smile making its way on his face, and Taehyung
drops his bag, taking a running leap towards the couch to land on him.

Jungkook coughs and hacks, half-heartedly shoving at him. “Hyung, that hurts!”

“Missed you,” Taehyung whines, burying his cold face in the other’s neck and squashing him
under his full weight.

“It’s only been, what. Four hours and sixteen minutes.”

“Hmm, is that so...I see you were counting.”

Jungkook splutters and starts trying to shove him off for real now. But his movements falter, then
he drops the act entirely as Taehyung kisses his way up his jaw, lips staying there to absorb the
unnatural heat radiating off of him. Jungkook’s always had a higher than average body temperature
and it’s so nice during times like this.
“What took you so long?” Jungkook’s voice hardens despite Taehyung’s efforts. “You shouldn’t
be working yourself too hard, you’re still recovering.”

“I’m fine, Kookie.” Taehyung strokes his arm. “It was just a dizzy spell.”

“Yeah, that we cancelled a concert for ‘cause you had to go to the hospital!”

“Only as a precaution!”

“Shut up. Just—go rest now.”

“Nooo, we haven’t even talked yet!”

Jungkook lets out a huge groan but concedes when Taehyung employs The Puppy Eyes, relaxing
under him. “Fine. Only for a few minutes.”

“Okay, mom.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So how was filming?”

“Soooo good,” Taehyung gushes, wiggling happily, resting his head back on the younger’s
collarbone. “It’s really nice hanging out with a friend in public.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. He bought me a cake for my birthday, too. Not gonna lie, I thought I was gonna cry.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, his hand coming up to weave through Taehyung’s hair. “What
time did you guys eat the cake?”

“Huh? Uh...like, around two?”

“Then that technically wasn’t even your birthday. He was late by two hours,” he says in the exact
tone of that one goody-two-shoes in school who would go up to the teacher and tattle tale about
how a classmate copied someone else’s homework. Taehyung puffs out a laugh against the side of
his face.

“It’s the thought that counts, Jungkookie. And we wouldn’t have been able to meet earlier today
anyway. Or, er. Yesterday, I guess.”

Jungkook just huffs.

Taehyung’s eyes start drifting shut, weighed down by the long day despite how much he really
does want to chat with his favourite person ever. He might’ve fallen asleep if Jungkook didn’t shift
and make a sound like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

“Jungkook?” he murmurs, one eye cracking open. The younger fidgets, his bottom lip caught
between his teeth.

“I actually, uh. Got something for you. But we were so busy toda—yesterday, I didn’t have a
chance to give it to you.”

Taehyung is suddenly wide awake, lurching up to his elbows. Jungkook pushes himself up too until
they’re sitting side by side. “A birthday present?” he asks, his eyes huge. “No way. You bought
someone a present?”
“Well, if you don’t want i—”

“I want it!” Taehyung shouts before realizing it’s ass o’clock and shrinking in on himself.
“Gimme,” he whispers, making grabby hands.

Jungkook smirks. “What’s the magic word?”

“Do you want me to beat you up? ‘Cause I will, I swear.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Koooook,” Taehyung whines, bouncing on the couch cushion. “It’s my birthday, don’t be mean!”

“Okay, okay. Here.” Jungkook digs in his pocket and shoves something at him. Taehyung pries
open his fist to see a small plastic box. He pulls off the top, finding a handful of chains interlinked
together. It’s a bracelet, nondescript and sort of delicate despite the weight sitting in his palm. “It’s
not much,” Jungkook is muttering, looking away. “Not Gucci or anything, but I saw it one day in a
magazine, and. I just thought it was cool.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, on the verge of tears for the second time that day. “Oh my god.”

“What.”

He thrusts out his left wrist. “Put it on for me.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook takes the bracelet, wraps it around Taehyung’s wrist, and fastens the clasp.
Taehyung studies it in the meager moonlight, twisting his arm this way and that.

“I love it.” He throws himself at the other boy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jungkook murmurs against his ear. “Don’t—don’t tell the others though.”

“Aww, why? I wanna show off!”

“Ugghh. Fine, you can tell them, but this is a one-time thing, you know that, right. I’m never
buying presents for you or anyone else ever again.”

“Sure, sure. Doesn’t matter, you got a bracelet for me, I don’t give a crap about anything right
now. The world can catch on fire for all I care.”

“Fiiiire,” Jungkook sings, bobbing his head to some beat.

Taehyung lifts his head. “Huh?”

“The song Suga-hyung and Rapmon-hyung have been working on.”

“Oh, right. I’d be down to sing that bop eight million times throughout the course of our career.”

Jungkook giggles, falling back flat against the couch. Now that he’s truly relaxed, he’s even more
comfortable to lie on, nice and floppy and squishy. As squishy as all those muscles allow him to
be, anyway. When Taehyung tells him as much, Jungkook scoffs.

“Well, you’re skin and bones.”

“My metabolism’s too fast.” Taehyung pouts. He gulps down three soft drinks with every meal but
his body seems to hate holding on to pudge. Feels like he’s disappointing his grandma a little
because she likes when he’s rounder but it’s hard when they’re dancing so hard all the time. Which
reminds him, he should call her as soon as he gets up tomorrow.

“Come to the gym with me.” Jungkook pats him on the back. “We’ll get you muscle definition in
no time.”

“Ew, exercise? No thanks. Who needs muscles when I have you to carry me around.” He sighs
contentedly, a puddle of goo on Jungkook’s chest. “Actually, yeah, carry me to bed now. I’m
tired.”

“Not showering?”

“Screw that, I’ll do it in the morning.”

“That’s so gross.”

“Who cares?”

“I do, we’re gonna be in the same bed!”

A cackle rises in Taehyung’s chest but he clamps down on it. He wasn’t aware that them sleeping
together was supposed to be a given now but of course, he’ll keep his mouth shut because he
doesn’t want Jungkook to get any ideas about sleeping elsewhere, no sirree. “Okay fine, I’ll go
shower, but you have to carry me to the bathroom. And bring me my pjs.”

Jungkook makes a sound like a dying walrus.

But he does it.

Taehyung’s eyes squint shut with how huge his smile is as he clings to Jungkook’s shoulders, who
stands and strides towards the bathroom like he weighs nothing.

Happy birthday to him.

“Oh good lord, is that Kim Taehyung I see? In the kitchen? Making food?”

Taehyung smiles self-consciously. He accidentally exerts a bit too much force on the knife and it
slices straight through the apple, meeting the cutting board with a loud thunk. “Morning, hyung.”

Seokjin trudges over, Hoseok trailing behind him still bleary-eyed and his hair an absolute mess.
“Wow, nice plating.”

“Thanks.”

Taehyung’s using The Bowl. He bought it online after filming that one Run episode because it was
so cute and Jungkook laughed so hard just looking at it. He arranges slices of oranges and
strawberries around the squirrel, leaving space for the final touch which will be the apples he’s
currently in the middle of slicing.

“Hey, hyung. You know how Japanese moms cut the apples into bunnies? Like in anime? Do you
know how to do it?”

“Uhh...yeah, I think so.”

“Can you show me?”

“Sure.”

Seokjin takes a smaller knife and explains to Taehyung how to shape the ears and separate the peel
from the meat of the fruit. Hoseok watches for a bit before getting bored and leaving to look for
cereal, rifling through the cabinets behind them. Long minutes later and with more concentration
than he’s had to use in a while, Taehyung gasps in glee, holding up his apple bunny. The ears are a
little crooked but that’s fine, it’s cute as heck and he did it all by himself. He places it right in front
of the squirrel on top of all the other fruit. It shalt be named Bunny King.

“What are you even doing though,” Hoseok crunches through a mouthful of Honeynut Cheerios.
“Are you eating that all by yourself?”

“No, it’s for Jungkookie.”

“Ooohh~ What a kind hyung you are, huuuh?”

Taehyung looks away, hoping his face isn’t red. He normally doesn’t blush easily but this is a new
kind of vulnerability that makes him want to run screaming for the hills. Not that the others know,
but still “He’s been slaving away over his song.”

“Ah, right.” Seokjin plucks out a chunk of orange and Taehyung snatches the bowl away, slapping
at his wandering hands. “He’s trying to write the lyrics on his own?”

“Yeah. I think he wants to ask Namjoon-hyung for help though.”

“Hmm, can’t blame him. Why not make use of the lyrical genius that literally shares a room with
you. Take it as payment for him breaking everything and snoring like a chainsaw.”

Hoseok squawks in laughter, his legs curling up to his chair and flapping around.

December passed in a whirlwind and somehow they’re already approaching the end of January. It
was the same old music shows and recordings over the holidays, but something felt different this
year. Bangtan’s noticeably more popular than it was last Christmas and their rising success is both
thrilling and sobering. Perhaps that’s what prompted their discussion earlier in the month about the
hardships each member experiences, the talk that made them all dissolve into tears when Jungkook
broke down and sobbed that his only hardship was seeing the hyungs struggle.

Even now, thinking about how hard he cried makes a lump form in Taehyung’s throat. It’s strange
because he’s always thought of Jungkook as the baby of the group, but he didn’t realize until this
talk that he hasn’t seen Jungkook cry like that since he found him alone in the bathroom, years ago.
Jungkook might act like a kid in the way he goofs off and teases the members, but Taehyung thinks
his mental strength is number one in the maknae line. He prefers to act like he isn't filled to the
brim with emotion, even if they all know otherwise. His tears come so easily for ARMYs, if they
do something touching or he’s reminded of how grateful he is for them or he’s sorry to them for
screwing up a performance.

But he never, ever cries for himself. Never when he’s going through a hard time. Jungkook is their
youngest, but his stability makes him a rock, an anchor for Bangtan. And Taehyung wants to be his
strength, too.

Even if it’s by doing dumb things like cutting fruit for him and bringing it to him in their squirrel
bowl. One of his favourite and most important pastimes has always been making sure Jungkook is
well-fed, after all.

When Taehyung walks into the room, their youngest is slumped over his desk, twirling a pen in his
right hand. His notebook is flipped open to lines of near-illegible characters interspersed with black
blocks of scribbles, the margins full of puppies, smiley faces, and other random things.

“How’s our baby doing?” Taehyung asks, setting the bowl down beside him and resting his hands
on Jungkook’s shoulders. Jungkook only groans, nudging back against Taehyung, who starts
massaging the tense muscle.

“Why’s this so haarrd? How do Rapmon-hyung and Suga-hyung do it all the time?”

“Literally me when I try to write.”

“Ugggh. It’s just...I want to write something good. My first solo. I want it to be meaningful for all
of us, and for—” he bites his lip. “Whatever, I’ll...yeah. I dunno, I think I’m gonna ask Rapmon-
hyung for help.”

“Mm-hmm. Don’t wear yourself out. Everyone’s here if you need advice, okay?”

Jungkook sighs. He grabs a piece of strawberry with his bare hand, ignoring the fork, and pops it in
his mouth. Then he does a double-take at the bowl. “Long time no see, Mr. Squirrel.”

“I know right, it was all dusty sitting at the back of the cabinet.”

Jungkook nods absently, popping some orange in his mouth next. He pauses. “Are these...those
rabbit apple things? Like in anime?”

Taehyung straightens up and grins, pleased at how in sync they are. “Yeah. Bunnies for my
bunny.”

“Not a bunny.”

“Totally are.”

“Isn’t this cannibalism then?”

“Shut up, you know you love it.”

Jungkook cranes his neck back to smile at him, front teeth out. “Thanks for the fruit, hyung.”

“You’re welcome.” Taehyung preens, looking down at him over his nose. “I cut them myself.”

“You what?!” Jungkook does another double—a triple take. “Seriously?” His mouth opens in an O
as he scrutinizes the fruit with a newfound appreciation. Taehyung doesn’t know if he should be
offended that him cutting fruit is apparently such a big deal.

“Sure did. Jin-hyung taught me how to do it. That one’s the Bunny King, see, I did that without any
help.”

“Aw, it’s cute. Wait, so Jin-hyung was there too? Good, good, you know you’re not allowed to
handle knives on your own, hyung.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“You’re just itching to get smacked, aren’t you.”

“Heh heh.”

Taehyung digs his fingers into Jungkook’s shoulders a last time, then rubs his palms over them,
smoothing out the unraveled knots. His hands glide up to fluffy, unbrushed hair instead, ruffling it
as Jungkook gets busy angling his phone for a picture of the bowl. When he’s done, he uploads the
photo to the official BTS twitter captioned “V-hyung cut fruit for me TT” and Taehyung bursts
into laughter, gently tugging at his earrings.

Jungkook puts down the phone, cocking his chin to give Taehyung a wide-eyed grin of
provocation. He looks so soft and inviting in his big black hoodie and gray sweatpants, rocking
back and forth with his hands resting on the chair between his legs, knees splayed.

Taehyung can’t help himself, he leans down to wrap his arms around Jungkook’s neck like a boa
constrictor, planting kisses all over the side of his face. He wishes the chair wasn’t in the way so he
could press all up against Jungkook’s back. Oh well, the way Jungkook doesn’t even pretend to not
like this, tilting his head back and eyes fluttering closed, is enough to make up for it.

The door suddenly opens.

Taehyung flinches. He tries to jump back but Jungkook’s hands are holding his arms to his neck
still. Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice, barely sparing them a glance and just says, “Morning,
Taehyung-ah,” before finding his earphones on his bed and heading back out.

Taehyung’s a statue, hunched over Jungkook stiffly, his heart pounding.

Jungkook makes this high-pitched mm? sound in question. Taehyung doesn’t respond, trying to
reel in the sudden chaos in his mind.

“Tae?” Jungkook says.

The nickname jerks him away from the guilt that was threatening to spread through his insides. A
few more slow breaths calm him down and he finds himself distracted by something else.

“You’re always calling me that nowadays,” he murmurs, nuzzling against Jungkook’s neck,
breathing him in. Jungkook usually sticks with ‘V-hyung’ or ‘Taehyungie-hyung,’ sometimes just
plain ‘V’ if he’s in a rush. ‘Taetae’ if he’s feeling cutesy. Tae, though, not so much. And now he’s
doing it all the time, usually when they're alone too.

“What, you don’t like it?” Jungkook asks, just as quietly.

Taehyung kisses him once, right under the ear. “I like it.”

I love it, he doesn’t say. Feels private and intimate and makes me want to kiss you on the mouth.

“Taehyung-ah,” Jungkook says, voice low and soft.

A hole opens in Taehyung’s stomach. He shoves out a breath through gritted teeth, grinding his
molars to keep himself from doing something they can’t come back from.

The door bangs open again and this time, Taehyung doesn’t even react fast enough to try to get
away.

“Hey, ya li’l rascals! Guess who brought back lunch from your favourite jjajangmyeon place!”
Jimin stands in the doorway, arms raised in triumph, take-out bags dangling from them. “I knew
you’d be in here, Taetae, you’re so predictable. Oh, I got your share too, Jungkook-ah, don’t worry.
No need to thank me, I know I’m the best hyung ever.” He smirks. “Come eat before it gets cold,
‘kay?” And he leaves as violently as he came.

A chuckle rises in Taehyung’s chest, mirrored in the vibration he can feel in Jungkook’s back. He
wonders why no one seems to notice this new tension between the two of them, but that probably
means he was never subtle to begin with.

Taehyung knows he’s starting to slip up more often. He can feel the looks of intent escaping his
self-restraint, but after holding back for so long, some selfish part of him justifies that he’s allowed
this much. Years of pining will do that to anyone, he’s sure.

Once, he dreams of cornering Jungkook. Literally backing him into the corner of a room, arms on
either side of his body to trap him there, a blanket thrown over them both to hide from the world so
he can keep the boy to himself for a whole day. They murmur jokes to each other between deep
talks about life and everything else, confess their deepest worries, faces close together. Taehyung
remembers reading somewhere that you’re not supposed to be able to smell things in dreams, but in
this one, the scent of Jungkook, so close to him, fills his nose.

When he wakes, it’s to a bone-deep satisfaction, similar to that feeling after a flawless concert.
Finally, a private, hidden part of Jungkook that belongs only to him.

Nights are torture. Taehyung doesn’t know if Jungkook’s piling stuff on his own bed on purpose
so they can sleep together, or if they’re sleeping together because the pile has gone past the point of
oh-I-could-clean-that-up-in-ten-minutes to if-I-want-to-sleep-in-my-own-bed-we’ll-need-a-bigger-
dorm. Either way, the result is one snuggly person glued to his side every night, and even if
Taehyung could stop being a total octopus for once in his life, he doesn’t want to. These are golden
cuddle opportunities with a dude who actively seeks skinship once in a blue moon, not to be
wasted.

When the room is dark and silent but for the sound of each other’s breathing, it gets hard for
Taehyung to remember what he’s even resisting, why he’s holding himself back. The whispers of
temptation that he usually shoves to the back of his mind get loudest then, telling him that no one
has to know. He could kiss Jungkook breathless right now and no one would be any the wiser the
next morning. No one would be able to tell if Taehyung snuck a hand under Jungkook’s shirt right
now and touched the curve of his waist, the divots of his abdomen, nibbled the collarbone that gets
closer to his face each time the other man inhales. So close and yet so far away. Cue cheesy love
songs about distance and heartbreak.

“Wanna go get bibimmyeon tomorrow? For dinner,” Jungkook whispers against his forehead,
completely out of the blue. Figures the guy is thinking about food while Taehyung’s having a mini
crisis here. “Hobi-hyung found this place that makes it super non-spicy.”

Taehyung sighs, squeezes him tighter. “Okay. I need me some comfort food, anyway.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Sigh.”

“...Did you just say ‘sigh’ out loud?”

“Yeah.”

“...”
“Don’t judge me.”

“Sigh.”

“Don’t copy me!”

“Heh heh.”

“Hey, so how far is this restaurant?”

“Uhh.” Jungkook checks his phone. “I think around a fifteen-minute drive?”

Taehyung takes off his red scarf and winds it around Jungkook’s neck, circling twice before tying a
nice, pretty knot at the front. He cups the younger’s face in his mittened hands, rubbing his thumbs
over his cheeks. Jungkook gazes at him, something like bemusement in the quirk of his lips.

“You’re not gonna wear a scarf?”

“Nah, I think I’m good. You need it more than I do.”

“No I don’t,” Jungkook says even as he snuggles into it.

Taehyung removes his hands with a parting pat, fluffing up the scarf so it covers more of his face.
“Say, wanna take the train there instead? Just the two of us?”

“You mean, like, public transport? Can we do that?”

“Yeah, I did it with Bogumie-hyung one time and it was totally fine.”

The look of curiosity and excitement immediately drops from Jungkook’s face, his lips pressing
into a line.

“Whatever,” he scoffs, turning away to pull his Timberlands on. “You text Sejin-hyung. If we get
in trouble, I’m blaming it on you.”

Taehyung’s heart thuds at his reaction, makes him want to coo, smother Jungkook in affection, but
worry dulls the urge. “Hey, Kookie.”

Jungkook ignores him. Taehyung waits for him to finish lacing up his boots before stepping in and
wrapping him in a back hug, lips touching the cold rings in his ear. “Listen, I get the feeling you
don’t like Bogum-hyung much, but...um. You know he’s only a good hyung. He’s nice. I think
he’d want to be friends with you too.”

He waits, feeling Jungkook’s back expand against his chest as he breathes, slower and slower.
Eventually, the tension melts away from his body and a hand comes up to grip the arm that
Taehyung’s got around his ribs. “Mm,” Jungkook grunts.

Taehyung lets him go with a grin, quickly pulling his own boots on and grabbing Jungkook’s wrist.
“Let’s go!” he cheers, dragging him out the door. “I’ll text Sejin-hyung on the way so it’ll be too
late to stop us.”

Jungkook cracks a grin.

God, he’s adorable.

They sit side by side on the train, huddled together under their beanies and face masks. Jungkook
gets a little skittish when a group of schoolgirls notices them and pulls out their phones amidst
hushed squeals. Their first instinct is always to run and hide whenever they’re recognized, but
Taehyung rests an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders and continues to ramble on about the latest
episode of Haikyuu!!, keeping their walking pace slow and steady when they exit the station. They
aren’t doing anything wrong. What’s so bad about a couple of idols grabbing dinner together? Let
people take pictures if they want.

The whispers and glances have faded by the time they reach the restaurant and find a table in the
back corner, and no one is daring enough to come talk to them. Jungkook gradually relaxes, taking
his mask off even before the food arrives.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung is telling him, “‘cause, like, I was reading some of the comments—”

“Tae,” Jungkook scolds. “Stop reading that stuff all the time, it’s not a good habit.”

“I know, I know, but I was curious, okay. And I did pretty well during the interview so I thought,
can’t hurt this one time. But anyway, so I was reading and a bunch of them said I seemed kinda
pissed off, even though I wasn’t! At all!”

Jungkook snorts. “Bet you were just daydreaming.”

“Well yeah, you know that but other people don’t. Do I have a resting bitch face, Kookie? Do I
look really mean when I’m not smiling??”

“Hmm...” Jungkook’s eyes trace over his face. “Yeah, a bit.”

Taehyung pouts.

“Who cares? You’re handsome, hyung.”

“Awww, Jungkookie~”

Jungkook shrugs like he’s unaffected but he isn’t meeting Taehyung’s eyes. “Shut up, you know
it’s true. And when you do smile, you don’t look mean at all, so...”

Taehyung leans closer, raising an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“No. I’m just saying you look like there’s sunshine and puppies coming outta your ass whenever
you do smile, so don’t worry about the bitch thing.”

“Puppies...coming outta my ass...”

“You know what I mean.”

“That was the most awkward compliment I’ve ever received in my entire twenty-two years on this
earth.”

“It wasn’t a compliment!” Jungkook almost shouts. He violently stabs Taehyung’s last dumpling
and stuffs it in his mouth.

“Hey! I was saving that!”

“Yeah, well, too bad!”

Taehyung whines some more and feigns stealing Jungkook’s food in retaliation but the latter fends
him off with his chopsticks martial arts style. When Taehyung gives up and sits back with his arms
crossed, pouting hard, Jungkook’s triumphant grin dims. “Um. I can. We can order more
dumplings if you want. I’ll—my treat.”

Taehyung breaks out in a grin, physically incapable of holding the act any longer. He barely keeps
himself from launching across the table to draw Jungkook into a koala hug, instead settling for
reaching over to tap the underside of his chin. “I’m just messing around, you absolute cutie-pie.
Don’t worry, I’m so full I could burst any second now.”

Jungkook peers up at him with his big eyes. “Can I have the rest of your soup then?”

“Ugh, you pig. Fine, take it.”

“Whoo!” He grabs the bowl and tips it all the way back. Amused and content, Taehyung watches
his Adam’s apple glide up and down as he inhales the soup in three big gulps. He lowers the bowl
to the table with a smack of his lips, glowing with satisfaction. His lips are cherry red from the mild
spice, framing his cute teeth in a smile, and Taehyung has never wanted to kiss him more.

“Hyung, you have a—” Jungkook smirks, reaching over to swipe his thumb over the corner of
Taehyung’s mouth, retrieves what looks like a tiny piece of chive. He wipes it on the older’s sleeve
and Taehyung makes to smack him but Jungkook swiftly dodges, then again when Taehyung tries
a second time.

“Wanna go on a walk?” Jungkook asks after he’s done dancing around like an annoying wiggly
jellyfish and Taehyung’s given up. “Work off the fullness?”

“Sure.”

He reaches for the wallet in his back pocket. They have this ritual of Jungkook staring him down
with a doe-eyed, cheeky smile, beseeching him to pay for the meal while Taehyung pretends to
struggle against it before ultimately giving in. Though he’ll usually only end up paying around half
anyway because Jungkook will eventually slap down a bill or two, as if to reward Taehyung for
trying to act like a hyung when the two of them share a single brain cell and are therefore mentally
the same age.

This time, Taehyung’s ready to give up on their little tradition because he’s secretly treating it like
a date. But before he can pay, he sees the money already sitting innocently on the receipt.

He blinks. “What.”

“What was that?” Jungkook holds a hand up to his ear. “It didn’t sound like ‘thank you, Jungkook-
nim’ to me.”

“What. Why. Wait, what? Hold on, I have to take a picture of this. Can you—yeah, just hold up a
v-sign.”

Jungkook automatically poses for a photo before coming to his senses. “Wait a second. Are you
taking a picture of me paying for the meal?”

“Yes.” Ka-chak.

“Wooow, V-hyung.”

Taehyung snickers. “I’m sending it to Yoongi-hyung. He’s totally gonna give you that dead-fish
look when we’re back.”
“The one time I try to do something nice,” Jungkook shakes his head in disappointment. “What
happened to being generous towards your dongsaengs.”

“Pffffttttt, not like you act like one. It’s Jungkook On Top out here in Bangtan Village.”

Jungkook waggles his eyebrows and flexes.

“Punk.” Taehyung cocks his chin towards the exit and they both get up. “So what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing.” Hands land on his shoulders while they shuffle towards the makeshift tent door, and
Taehyung wants to giggle at the tickle of hair when Jungkook’s face falls against the back of his
neck. “Just felt like it,” he says, voice muffled against Taehyung’s skin.

The winter air whips at their faces as soon as they step outside, stunning them both. Taehyung’s
starting to regret not bringing his scarf but he was too lazy to go find another one earlier, and he’s
glad he gave his favourite to Jungkook, Mr. Baby Who Can’t Stand Being Too Hot Or Cold.

“Well...thanks for the meal, Jungkookie,” he says to said baby, who’s currently still hiding in his
nape.

“You have to buy me sushi next time,” he bargains, lips against Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung short-
circuits at the feeling, tingles traveling all the way to his fingertips.

“Yeah, yeah,” he manages. “You’re so spoiled, god.”

“Whose fault is that?”

Taehyung gasps, affronted, a hand coming up to his chest. “You’d better not be blaming me.”

“You and five other people we happen to know.”

“...Okay, you got me there.”

Jungkook pulls away from his back, trotting forward so they can walk side by side, their breaths
turning into white wisps in the night air. “You know,” Jungkook says, voice pensive. “Sometimes I
wonder if I’d still be hiding in the bathroom to change if you didn’t come along.”

Taehyung nearly trips over his own feet. The flood of warmth into his chest is so potent that he
stops regretting bringing his own scarf.

“You wouldn’t,” he says, beaming at Jungkook. “You would’ve gotten used to everyone sooner or
later.”

“Hm. You’re right.”

Taehyung laughs at the abrupt one-eighty and punches him on the shoulder. “Wow, way to
undermine my existence. I feel so unappreciated.”

“Stop tapping into your genius side to use big words on me, Tae.”

“That was not a big word. And you’re the one who was memorizing the periodic table to show up
Jin-hyung. Nerd.”

Jungkook juts his chin out. “Why, what’s wrong with that? Do you not know what zirconium is,
huh? Einsteinium?”
Taehyung laughs, rubbing his palm over the back of Jungkook’s neck. “Sorry, I only know about
important things. Like, the beauty of the world. And art. Call me by my real name.”

“Vincent Van Gogh is not your real name.”

“The fact that you knew without me telling you proves my point.”

“Your ears are too healthy for you to be Van Gogh. And by healthy I mean ginormous.” Jungkook
mimes just how ginormous, arms stretching into the sky.

“All the better to listen to you whine with, my dear.”

Jungkook shoves him lightly and they continue to waddle down the sidewalk together, noses red,
the ridiculous, pointless conversation refusing to die out. With him, Taehyung never feels like he
needs to keep the chatter going to be comfortable. They’re way too close for that and Jungkook’s
low-key the silent, brooding type on an average day anyway.

That said, there’s something about them, like a synergy built from years of living together (or not,
because this connection isn’t something Taehyung shares even with the other members, don’t tell
Jimin) that gives them the ability to create bouquets of conversation out of one tiny, seed of a
comment. Like, how the signboard of that restaurant reminds Taehyung of the one time they all
went to karaoke, and the disco ball was broken so it would only flash red and blue over and over
again like a busted police light. Jungkook complains about how he couldn’t properly see colours
for the rest of the day because of it and Taehyung teases that that’s because he plays computer
games in the darkness all day errday and Jungkook retorts that he does the exact same thing but for
fourteen hours at a time, which devolves into a debate about the best Overwatch characters, and.
Yeah. They just don’t stop.

They nearly walk past an arcade, until Taehyung realizes it’s the one they passed by last time with
Yoongi. It feels like destiny or something so he drags Jungkook in with him, eager to explore this
time, the younger letting him without a word of protest.

“Bet I can beat you at DDR,” Taehyung baits and Jungkook is immediately puffing up with that
gleam in his eye, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Taehyung loses spectacularly but redeems himself at the racing game. For the zombie shooter, they
play as a team and do well enough for Jungkook to hop from foot to foot in regret when they come
a hair’s breadth away from beating the high score. They go again only to be interrupted by a phone
call, Sejin checking to make sure they’re doing okay. They were smart enough to only tell the one
manager who allows them to live like people their age should; god knows the yelling they’d be
subjected to right now if it were anyone else. Whenever the topic comes up, Taehyung has to lie
that he hasn’t been outside in the last two years because one, if management caught on that they
snuck out from time to time, they’d be dead meat, and two, if fans knew they walked the streets
like regular people, who knows where they’d get ambushed.

After they hang up, Taehyung exclaims, “ooooh, is that what I think it is,” distracted by what looks
like a punching bag. Or a punching ball. He floats over to it, pops some coins in and sucks in an
excited breath as the machine whirs to life. “Hey, muscle pig! Come do your thing!”

Jungkook stalks over with his apathetic Big Man act, but there’s interest in his eyes and
determination in the set of his jaw.

“Stretch first,” Taehyung suggests, helping him pull his arm back in circles and lightly massaging
his bouncing shoulders.
Anticipation thrums under his skin as he gets out of the way. Jungkook wraps his left hand over his
right wrist and pulls back his arm. The two shuffle steps he takes are measured, building in speed
until he’s in range and twisting his upper body forward, the strength gathered in his fist slamming
the ball backwards. Taehyung jumps, awed (and a tiny bit turned on).

They watch the numbers rise all the way up to a thousand then start flashing, overtaking the top
score.

“Oh shit, Jungkook-ah!” Taehyung shouts. He leaps on his back, whooping. “You set a new
record, holy crap!”

Jungkook’s trying not to look happy but pride shines through his twitching lips when he quirks a
brow at Taehyung.

“Oh my god, my strong, manly bunny wabbit,” Taehyung croons, rubbing his biceps. “Maybe I
should stop pissing you off all the time now, huh?”

“Yeah hyung, I’ve just been going easy on you.”

“Easy? You literally pick me up and throw me around.”

“Exactly. That’s what I meant by easy.”

Taehyung can’t say anything to that because, well. It’s true. “Too bad we don’t get any prizes here,
not like at festivals or whatever. Would’ve been nice to commemorate this venerated occasion.”

Jungkook snorts, takes a look around, and points to a corner they haven’t been to. “If you want
prizes, I think I saw some claw machines over there. Wanna try?”

“Oooooh, good idea. Onwards, my loyal steed!”

Jungkook slaps his ass in retaliation but boosts him higher and marches off. They both spend all of
their remaining change, alternating between yelling and subtly shaking the claw machines when no
one’s paying attention and complaining about how they’re all rigged. A half hour later, Taehyung
triumphantly holds up an Iron Man figurine keychain thing, the size of his pinky. He pushes the
box into Jungkook’s hands, telling him, “For you.” His heart warms when the younger’s face lights
up.

Jungkook takes it gingerly, studying the figure. Then he pulls out a small stuffed lion that was
hiding in his hoodie pocket and hands it to Taehyung. “You can have this,” he says, eyes to the
ground.

Taehyung gasps. The lion is a caramel brown with cute oval eyes, a mess of a mane, and has the
softest fur he’s ever had the pleasure of touching.

“Jungkook-ah,” he says, embarrassingly touched. “I’m naming him Pierre-Auguste Renoir.”

Jungkook groans. “Not another one of your fancy painters.”

“Hey, don’t diss Renoir!” Taehyung cups the lion to his chest. “You’re every bit as grand as you
wanna be,” he whispers, petting its head. “Live your dreams, little one.”

Jungkook stares at him, his mouth open but undecided on whether it should be smiling, like he
doesn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of knowing how funny Jungkook finds him. Joke’s
on him, Taehyung already knows.
“Wanna go now?” Jungkook eventually says, and he nods happily, trailing after him.

They text Sejin to let them know they’re on their way home. A delay occurs because they’re two
young adults who last took public transit in Seoul three years ago, nearly getting lost when
Taehyung loses his patience and tries to drag them on to a random train.

“That goes to Hannam-dong, hyung,” Jungkook deadpans. “We do not live there.”

Taehyung clasps his hands over his chest. “Imagine if we did. One day.”

“I’d say it’s about as likely as winning a Grammy.”

Taehyung knows he’s joking but imagining winning a Grammy makes him feel like flying. “Do
you think we could? Sometime in the far future?”

Jungkook catches on to his hopeful excitement and thrusts his fist in the air. “Believe!” he shouts in
English, happily accepting Taehyung’s cheeky high-five, but his smile drops when he remembers
he has no idea where he’s going and starts muttering to himself as he zooms in on his Naver Map.

When they get off the train and are met with their familiar neighbourhood, Jungkook breathes out a
massive sigh of relief, and Taehyung bursts out laughing at the baleful glare that’s turned on him.
He’ll forever keep it to himself that he knew exactly where they were going the whole time—not to
brag or anything, he’s an amazing map-reader—but watching Jungkook struggle and lead him
around in an attempt to take care of him was the cutest thing he’d seen in forever, so. Can’t blame
him, right?

As they’re walking back to the dorms, Taehyung spots a patch of white on the sidewalk. He bends
down, surprised to see a smattering of white and yellow dandelions growing from a crack in the
concrete, healthy despite the cold weather.

“Wow, cute.” He plucks one of the flowers and hops back to his feet. Jungkook stays still, lets him
brush his hair back and tuck the dandelion over his ear. “Awww, look at that! A pretty flower for a
pretty man.”

Jungkook seems about ready to yeet both the flower and him, so Taehyung hurriedly grabs his
hand and starts pulling him towards their building. When they reach the lobby entrance, Taehyung
releases him, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, this is me. Thanks for the date, darling.” He kisses Jungkook on the cheek and shoots
him a wink. Jungkook smacks him on the arm, his cheeks starting to turn red as they almost never
do, matching Taehyung’s scarf. Taehyung wants to take a picture. Immortalize it on his nightstand.
Not that he has a nightstand, but you know.

“We literally live in the same place,” Jungkook grumbles, looking like the most beautiful thing
Taehyung has ever laid eyes on with the flower standing out against his dark locks. He doesn’t
miss the fact that there was no denial at the D word.

“Which is great ‘cause now we can go home and get comfortable and game all night!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and punches the button for the elevator. “You have a problem, Tae.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not dying to do the same thing.”

“Only so I can show you who’s boss.”

 “Try me, boy.”

When Taehyung goes to sleep that night, eyes aching from too much computer time, his precious
man-boy gathered up in his arms, he relives their day, savouring it and making sure to burn every
second into his brain.

Further down the line, he’ll hate himself for allowing this, for loving it, and yet he’ll cling on to
the memory like it’s a crumbling raft and he’s being dragged under the waves.

Because it’s true when they say you can only really hit rock bottom after experiencing a taste of
happiness.

Chapter End Notes

thank u for reading!! if u have the time, a comment would really make my day ( •́ ω
•̀ )
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

thank so much for all of ur lovely comments last time!!! gotta admit it was great
motivation (*´∀`*)

Hands steepled on the desk, Bang PD says, lightly, as if it’s no big deal, “The article was uploaded
last night.”

They should have seen it coming.

But that’s the thing about letting yourself get swept away: even as you let it happen, knowing it
can’t last, you trick yourself into believing the momentary joy is worth the consequences. That
you’re prepared to take on those consequences, despite not having a clue what they are.

Taehyung isn’t. He isn’t ready, but no one cares whether or not he is so he can only stand here
trembling, ice in his veins. A stone of fear, anxiety, guilt sinks into his gut.

Their CEO closes the webpage, clicks open an unnamed folder to reveal dozens of photos.
Taehyung and Jungkook holding hands that night they went to the arcade. Jungkook staring at
Taehyung with raw adoration. Taehyung tucking a dandelion into Jungkook’s hair. Outside their
dorm building, a kiss on the cheek and a flirty smile.

“And they sent us these pictures one hour later. They’re threatening to reveal them.”

For some reason, out of the handful of things Taehyung should be thinking about in this moment,
the first that flies to the forefront of his mind is why now? The arcade outing happened over a
month ago, so why now? It couldn’t have been a month sooner, before Jungkook surprised him by
taking him to a restaurant specializing in Taehyung’s hometown foods, and held his hand when he
was hit by a bout of homesickness? It couldn’t have been a week sooner, before Taehyung decided
he wanted to learn how to cook an easy dish so Jungkook stayed up until four helping him make
glazed potatoes? Any sooner at all, so he could’ve been yanked back down to earth before knowing
how sweet it can be to ignore the responsibilities chaining him down.

So why now? A rhetorical question, since Taehyung knows it’s because of business. Something
behind the scenes came to a head and since money is more important than the happiness of some
idol who’ll fizzle out of existence years down the road anyway, this news outlet has decided to use
its leverage.

Taehyung knows these things and the knowledge should ground him because fear of the unknown
is a different kind of fear altogether. Still, the panic surging through him isn’t something he can
control. The desperation, the anguish.

He had it. His happiness was so close he could touch it.

Bang PD lets the two of them look at the photos for a long minute. Jungkook’s face is ghost-pale,
his lips a tight line. Taehyung tears his gaze away from him.

“Our legal team is already working on the case.” Bang PD’s eyes soften. “I can assure you
everything will work out, boys. But I want you to tell me, not necessarily as your CEO, but as...I
guess, a father figure. I know that’s presumptuous, but it feels like I’ve raised the seven of you. I
just want you to be honest with me.”

At his side, Jungkook lets out a tiny, choked sound, his fists white where his fingers are digging
into the hem of his own shirt.

Taehyung understands what needs to be done, has understood from the very beginning. This isn’t
his burden to carry alone and he’s not trying to act the hero, to cover for Jungkook when he knows
perfectly well that the younger has the right to make his own decisions. But Taehyung likes him
so, so much. His puppy crush has long since exploded out of control, running away from him
singing and dancing and prancing down the road, itching to scream its feelings out to the world.
There’s not a single doubt in his mind that he’s well on his way to loving Jeon Jungkook.

Which is why he’ll take this into his hands. Because he likes Jungkook and will do anything to
protect him, to keep him from taking on a burden he doesn’t have to.

“We’re just friends,” he says firmly, his voice strong. “PD-nim, you know how touchy I am, right?
A cheek kiss isn’t a big deal between two male idols, those were things I would’ve done with any
member of the group. I’m sorry you have to go through the trouble of defending us.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook echoes quietly. “He’s right, we’re just friends.”

Their CEO takes a long, probing look at them, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two.

An interminable amount of time later, he says, “Okay.”

Taehyung grits his teeth. He waits to be interrogated more or for some kind of punishment, but
Bang PD says, “Thanks for telling me. I’m sorry you had to deal with this first thing in the
morning.” He stands, walking around the desk to pat them both on the shoulders. Taehyung can’t
look up from his shoes. “Go home now, kids. Say hi to the others for me.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook mumbles, and he and Taehyung bow deeply before leaving the office.

The ride back to the dorms is silent.

Normally, this is where Taehyung would take Jungkook’s hand but every small touch seems
suggestive now. He sits stiffly in his seat, hands clamped between his thighs.

When they arrive in the dorm, they find all five other members huddled around the dining table,
reading something on Namjoon’s laptop. Taehyung only needs to take one look at their faces.

“Hey.” Jimin is the first to brave the tension in the air. “Um...where d’you guys go?”

“Office,” Taehyung says shortly, pulling off his jacket and shoes.

“Oh. Why?”

“Because of the article you’re reading right now.”

Jimin flinches.
“Have you seen it?” Namjoon says calmly, cutting right to the chase. “The news outlet is claiming
they have an exclusive report on a same-sex couple in an idol group. A male group that’s on the
rise.”

This blistering anger, directed at himself and everyone else in the vicinity, has been swelling inside
of him since they left their agency. He’s close to lashing out, but before something scathing makes
its way past his self-restraint, Jungkook blurts out, “Th-they took pictures of me and Taehyungie-
hyung when we went to the arcade.” He comes to stand behind Taehyung. Taehyung resists the
warring urge to step closer and run far away. “It wasn’t even anything big, they’re just trying to
make a story out of nothing.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says. The way he’s watching them is eerily similar to how Bang PD was
minutes ago, understanding and empathetic and it makes Taehyung sick to the stomach. “You
know that no matter what happens, we’ll be on your side. You can tell us anything.”

He feels the younger go rigid next to him. Something bubbles up in Taehyung’s chest and he lets
out an ugly laugh. “Not you guys too,” he spits out. “We’re just friends, okay? Stop making things
weird, fuck.”

He storms into his room, slamming the door behind him. His breaths are loud in the silence, chest
heaving, hysteria rising up his throat and he wants to scream, pull his hair out.

The sound of the door opening and closing makes him whirl around, ready to rip into whoever
made the mistake of coming in, but of course it’s Jungkook, who reaches out and tries to touch his
arm.

“Hyung,” he barely gets out before Taehyung jerks away from him.

“Don’t,” he hisses, feeling like he’s on the verge of losing it and he doesn’t want Jungkook to get
caught in the crossfire. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, what this inferno coursing through him
is and why it makes him want to break something. He misses his parents, he wants to see them.
They’ll accept him for liking who he likes. They’ll be happy for him.

Or maybe they won’t. He’s never told them he’s bisexual, after all.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook says sharply, grabbing him beneath the elbow. “Stop. You’re gonna hurt
yourself.”

He realizes he’s biting hard enough into his lip that some of the dead skin has torn off, blood
weeping from the bared flesh. Jungkook draws away, retrieves a tissue with a quick snap of his
wrist without letting go of Taehyung’s arm, and leans back in. He dabs at Taehyung’s bottom lip,
scowling with such worry that he looks frightening. His hand is gentle, wiping up the blood
without causing any pain.

And Taehyung can’t hold himself back anymore. His anger snaps cleanly in half, allowing fear and
misery to flood through instead.

“Jungkook,” he cries, throwing his arms around the other boy. “Jungkookie.”

Jungkook breaks too, clutching at him so tightly it’s hard to breathe and they press their faces into
each other’s necks, breaths shaky but refusing to let the tears well over. Jungkook’s nails dig into
his back.

He murmurs, barely audible, “It’s okay, hyung. Everything will be okay. We’re best friends, it’ll be
fine.”
Something cold creeps up Taehyung’s spine and he freezes, hackles rising in its wake. He looks up
at Jungkook’s sad, concerned expression.

“What?” Taehyung rasps, his breath lodged in his throat.

“...Hyung?” Jungkook blinks rapidly, eyes trailing over his face.

Inside of Taehyung, something shifts. A key that he never wanted found again slides into its lock
and a door he thought he’d closed for good creaks open now.

The realization that he could’ve misunderstood all of this. He never voiced his feelings, and so
never heard anything back. Each of his insecurities, the feather-light ones and the ones that could
crush his ribcage in a heartbeat, come flooding back in. The assumptions he made from receiving
affection that only hinted at more, never confirmed. The conclusion he came to from a couple kind
gestures, a vague song cover. A question he didn’t think to ask even though the tiny, non-verbal
confessions he made every day were never reciprocated to the same extent.

He thought he understood, but he doesn’t, does he?

“Hyung? Are you okay?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, only squeezes Jungkook tighter in his arms. Oddly enough, he’s the one
who feels like he can’t breathe.

Over the next few days, the members tread on eggshells around the both of them, smiling a bit too
brightly, laughing at obnoxious volumes. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Seokjin all try to talk to
Taehyung on separate occasions but he uses fatigue and being too busy as excuses to ward them
off. One day, Jimin crashes into their room, vibrating with the obvious need to just say something,
but when he meets Taehyung’s eyes over Jungkook’s shoulder, the maknae asleep on Taehyung’s
bed and curled up against his chest, Jimin loses all steam. His sad smile as he quietly leaves the
room stays with Taehyung for a while.

This is the first time BTS has not talked about something that’s bothering them, and Taehyung
feels like shit for being the cause. But he can’t bare his heart, not like this, not with the threat of his
misunderstanding looming over his head.

A couple days after the incident, Jungkook tells him the article was deleted. Rumors are floating
around some website called PANN but no one knows for sure what’s going on or who the original
article was referring to, so nothing comes out of it. Taehyung reads some of the comments left
under the speculation posts and finds some hope from the commenters’ disdain towards the article.
They say the media has no right, they’re crossing a line, celebrities have a right to live like human
beings too. Many even say that they don’t care who’s gay but are worried about the hate the idols
could receive from homophobes.

He gets his first good night’s sleep since this all started.

On the outside, things slowly go back to normal over the rest of the week. Their next schedule is in
Kobe, which Taehyung’s excited for since Japanese concert venues don’t allow fan recordings. The
fact that he breathes easier from something like this is depressing if he thinks about it, so he tries
not to.

He’s never not been clingy with Jungkook, doesn’t really know how not to be, so he carries on as
he’s always done, hanging off his shoulders, hugging him, hopping on his back. Ironically enough,
he feels the most free during concerts and fansigns because the fans expect them to be silly and
skinship-y, and management keeps them on a looser leash to satisfy their supporters’ craving for
real interactions between the members. Those are the times he finds his laughter to be the most
boisterous, his grins entirely real.

But the way he feels on the inside is a different story. He’s walking a tightrope. He’s constantly
ricocheting from needing all his limbs around Jungkook to feel steady on his feet to hating how
desperate he is for any small piece of him. Taehyung’s confused and scared right now about this
thing between them, but at his core, he’s sort of reckless when it comes to the things he wants.
He’s the type of person to spontaneously audition to become an idol and spontaneously become a
trainee, sticking to it even as they live like dogs because his ambition is that much stronger.

It’s this recklessness that competes against the voice at the back of his mind telling him they have a
deadline and that his feelings have no future. He’s supposed to be putting distance between them
before it’s too late and Bangtan falls to ruins. Nowadays, idol groups can disband from something
as small as a smoking scandal, let alone a relationship between members.

Yet, it’s so hard when Jungkook comes searching for him with his big eyes and soft voice and
hesitant hands. When he’s kicking Taehyung’s butt to get his attention, bratty and defiant in front
of other people, Taehyung wants to snatch him up, fly off somewhere where they can just be. He
wants to stop worrying for once.

It’s not even in Taehyung’s nature to excessively worry. He’s a thinker, sure, he’ll think about
anything and everything and imagine worlds out of nothing, but the outcome of that usually falls
along two paths: either he’ll get distracted by something else and stop caring, or the strength of his
emotions will make him explode into action before the worry can fester.

So what’s different this time? Jungkook’s too important for him to give up, but what’s preventing
him from vomiting all his emotions over Jimin and the other members? He’s keeping a secret from
them for once in his life, and it’s not out of lack of trust, only that he feels so fragile these days.
He’s afraid something will break if he untangles the jumble in his heart and puts it into words.

He wants to protect Jungkook and Bangtan. It’s the unfairness of the situation that makes his heart
writhe, feeding into his instinct to rebel.

The uproar dies down after the article is removed, no doubt the work of a lawsuit by Big Hit. As
the days pass by, Taehyung begins to dig himself out of his whirlpool of dark thoughts. Things are
looking up, after all, and nothing’s really changed. Off the stage, he and Jungkook aren’t as
outwardly affectionate anymore, but they still gravitate towards each other after a long day. In the
privacy of their rooms, Taehyung will curl around his back and ramble about whatever comes to
mind, reveling in his laugh, and it’ll be just like how things were before. At the end of the day,
they’re still best friends.

Eleven days after the incident, he and Jungkook are called into a meeting with Bang PD and the
managers. They are told, politely but firmly, that the two of them are not to engage in skinship
when they’re being filmed. And that they will be separated if the need arises.

Jungkook seems to take the order to heart, jittery as the cameras turn on backstage for the HYYH
On Stage DVD, but Taehyung’s not too bothered by the warning. The consequences could’ve been
much worse, after all. He’s still riding the high from the performance, hyper and happy enough to
prance towards Jungkook, hanging off his shoulders without thinking much of it.

The enormity of the situation only falls on him when a manager standing behind the cameras
scowls and gestures for Taehyung to get off of him.
Dumbfounded and angry, he obeys.

Because what else can he do? He’s powerless. They’re powerless. It’s a choice between Jungkook
and the company, Jungkook and BTS, Jungkook and their members, Jungkook and Jungkook’s
future.

He was naive to think everything would blow over so easily. The physical separation and the
knowledge that it will last for the remainder of their careers if he ever truly wants anything more
than friendship with Jungkook, finally makes him snap.

That night in the hotel, he’s calm when he gathers all the other members except for their youngest
in his and Jimin’s room. Calm in the sense that he knows what he needs to tell them, at least. The
nerves are still there.

As soon as everyone’s sat down, he says to the room, “I like Jungkook.”

His voice belies a confidence he doesn’t feel. But he’s put this off for too long now, and it’s not
only that he wants to get this off his chest—he wants his members, his family, to know.

“I like Jungkook,” he repeats. “In the romantic way. I’m sorry.”

Truthfully, he isn’t expecting the members to lose their shit, not in the angry sense. He has too
much faith in them for that, but he’s still shocked when there’s no silence or tension to be found for
even a single second, before Yoongi snorts and says, “Took you long enough.”

Jimin’s not crying but he’s visibly holding it back, gathering Taehyung up in a bear hug. “Don’t
say you’re sorry, Taehyung-ah,” he hisses, punching him on his back and it freaking hurts dammit
but Taehyung’s not going to deprive him of this. “There’s nothing wrong with having feelings for
someone.”

Hoseok’s face is frozen in a scowl that worries Taehyung for a bit despite him telling himself he
wouldn’t let this get to him. Then Hoseok grabs his free side with all the power of their top dancer.
For once, he seems to be lost for words, rubbing Taehyung’s back hard enough to hurt like carpet
burn. “You stupid idiot,” is all he says.

Seokjin comes over to envelop the three of them like a mother hen with his long arms and broad
shoulders, and he doesn’t say anything either, to Taehyung’s surprise. Actually, maybe he’s not
surprised. Seokjin’s arguably the most mature and mentally strongest out of them all and he’s been
watching from the sidelines, seeing, this whole time.

“We knew, you know,” Namjoon says, the last one to stand from the bed. The ferocity of his hug
erases the last lingering traces of doubt in Taehyung’s mind. “Some of us, at least. You guys aren’t
subtle. I think we figured it out before either of you did.”

“Welp. That’s awkward,” Taehyung says. He’s trapped in the mess of bodies, his own eyes dry
when even Yoongi’s are beginning to redden from where he’s standing off to the side, pretending
he doesn’t want to join the group hug. Taehyung manages a smile at him and he loses the battle,
stepping forward to fit himself between Seokjin and Namjoon.

All in all, it’s very anti-climactic for a confession that could ruin the band.

“Yeah, I just.” Taehyung heaves a sigh. “This has become such a huge deal and honestly, I don’t
even know how I’ve been hiding my...feelings from you guys for so long. I just didn’t want to—
you know.”
“Why isn’t Jungkook here?” Hoseok pipes up, and Taehyung stiffens.

“I didn’t...I don’t know,” he mutters.

Jimin’s eyes grow wide. “Wait, are you two...?”

Taehyung shakes his head frantically. “No, no. Today is just about my feelings for him. I never
told him, exactly. We haven’t...I don’t know for sure if he feels the same or if it’s—” He swallows,
forces himself to spit out the word, “brotherly.”

Namjoon and Seokjin straighten up out of the group hug, exchanging a glance over their heads.
Jimin hums in understanding, rubbing Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung is glad he gets it. When it
comes to Jungkook, the lines between friendship, hero worship, and anything non-platonic seem to
blur. Taehyung doesn’t know if the reason is because Jungkook himself can’t figure out what he
feels or if it’s something stupidly endearing like that he loves with all his heart and so telling the
different types of love apart is near impossible from an outside perspective.

“Sometimes I wonder if he only likes me because I happen to be the closest person to him,”
Taehyung blurts out, and there he goes again, the mortifying departure of his brain-to-mouth filter.
“Like he imprinted on me because I happened to hang around him the most.”

Jimin’s mouth falls open in surprise, but before he can say anything, Yoongi cuts in. “It’s not that.”

Taehyung meets Yoongi’s eyes, startled by his adamance. The older man doesn’t offer anymore,
only staring at him like he’s trying to see into his soul.

“Why haven’t you talked to him?” Yoongi asks.

His heart squeezes in his chest. He snorts. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, just wanted to let you
know I kinda like you in the non-platonic way and if you don’t feel the same this is gonna be really
awkward ‘cause we’re in the same band and live together and I sort of helped raise you but it’s cool
if you don’t, oh and if you do, that’s great but we can never truly be together and you could
probably find someone better anyway to be honest so I don’t even know why I’m asking.”

Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin gape at him. Taehyung looks away, ashamed. He can feel
Yoongi’s laser-beam eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know because I don’t like keeping secrets,” Taehyung
murmurs.

Namjoon pulls out of whatever weird mood the little rant put him in, reaching over to touch his
shoulder. “Listen. I know you know that if anything happens between the two of you, it has to stay
on the down-low for now. But don’t forget that this secret isn’t only yours, it also belongs to
Bangtan. And I don’t mean that in a ‘we’re carrying this burden together’ way, okay, Taehyung?
You would never be a burden. I mean we’re all going to protect you. You’re not alone, as corny as
that sounds.” He laughs, small and awkward, familiar.

Taehyung looks up at him, feeling naked and weak-kneed from his serious but gentle voice and
even gentler words. He takes in the faces of the other members. They’re watching him with care
and concern and not an ounce of judgment or discomfort.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

In ones and twos, they crowd in to say a few encouraging words and ruffle his hair or hug him
some more before filing out of the room. Then it’s just him and Jimin, who leads him by the hand
to one of the beds so they can both crawl under the covers, unshowered, kind of gross, still in their
outside clothes.

Taehyung blinks slowly at the ceiling, not seeing any of its details in the dim lamplight. He’s
exhausted, suddenly, both mind and body.

“Did you know?” he asks Jimin, curious despite himself. His platonic soulmate is practically an
empath, he wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“I think I found out later than you’re thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure.” Jimin turns on his side to look at him. “No, honestly, I was never sure, I
guess. You know that day both you and Jungkookie came out as bi though? I thought it was
because you guys confessed to each other or something.”

Taehyung exhales through his nose, the slightest laugh. “Nah.”

“How long have you...liked him?”

“Hmm. Few months after I met him, I guess.”

Jimin’s jaw unhinges.

“I know.”

He whistles. “Holy shit, Taetae. Yeah, I really...I mean, I did wonder a little when I first noticed
your gross muscle kink for him—”

“Rude.”

“—but, like, it didn’t immediately make me go HE’S GAY THEY’RE GAY WE’RE ALL GAY,
you know? We’re pretty touchy with each other.” Jimin pauses, squinting, like he’s reliving their
entire lives together up to this point. “Actually, you know what, I take it back. I think there were a
few thousand times where I caught you staring at Jungkookie like you wanted to eat him up but I
got distracted by other things or I thought it was you getting too into the stage adrenaline, but
you’re also touching him all the time and kissing him and getting up in his space and trying to
make him laugh and acting out those lame love skits and hanging out alone and sleeping together
and biting his muscles and—wow. I’m blind, aren’t I.”

Taehyung covers his face with his hands. “That was way more embarrassing for me than you, trust
me.”

“You’re right.”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“Our three big hyungs definitely knew, though.”

“You think?”

Jimin scratches his chin. “I dunno, sometimes I’d look over and they’d be staring at the two of you
with this, like, mushy expression. I didn’t get it then but now I want to join in. You guys are super
cute. Our squishy little maknaes.”
“You’re the squishiest one in this group,” Taehyung grumbles, elbowing him away when he tries
to pinch his cheeks. “Mr. Mochi. Mandu.”

Jimin laughs, taking pity on him and flopping back on his side of the bed.

He’s quiet for a minute, before, “Taetae, I’m sad you didn’t tell me. I mean, I can understand why
you didn’t, but in the future, you have to promise to tell me important things, okay?”

For the first time that night, Taehyung feels the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. “Okay,
Jiminie,” he says quietly.

“Are you going to tell Jungkook?”

He sniffs discreetly, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know.”

“If it makes a difference, that boy is smitten with you, in my opinion.”

“You literally didn’t even know I’ve had feelings for him for years until today, you big fat liar.”

“Okay, fine!” Jimin sits up, throwing his arms in the air. “That’s a good point, I can admit that!
But!” He stabs a finger in Taehyung’s face, so close he should’ve probably flinched but his
survival instincts are shot for the night. “If that boy had to be in love with someone, it wouldn’t be
anybody but you, Taehyung-ah. And that’s a fact.”

The L-word makes Taehyung’s heart leap in his chest. What he’s feeling may no longer be a
shallow crush, but he isn’t in love with Jungkook and he doesn’t expect, can’t even hope for the
other to feel anything remotely close to that depth of emotion either.

“Unconvincing,” he says. “I don’t buy into hypotheticals.”

Jimin groans and drags his hands down his face. “I shall forever be the languishing side character
friend, doomed to watch Taekook pine after each other for no reason at all.”

“What.”

“Never mind, you hobbit. Now go shower, you smell like you’ve spent a month with Shrek.”

“If anyone here’s a hobbit, it’s you.”

“Okay, I set myself up for that one but fuck you.”

Taehyung’s lying on the bed in his bathrobe and Jimin’s taking his turn in the shower when a
knock comes at the door.

He immediately tenses, his mind conjuring up the worst-case scenarios, managers coming to scold
him for being too touchy, or someone overhearing their earlier conversation. Sliding off the bed
carefully, he walks with silent footsteps over to the door and fits one eye over the peephole.

It’s Jungkook.

Taehyung watches him shift from foot to foot, his hands going into the pockets of his own robe,
then coming back out. He’s sucking on his bottom lip and looking down. A sigh Taehyung can’t
hear from his side makes Jungkook’s chest heave.

Now that the concert’s over and he’s left with tiredness and the sense of wrongdoing that digs into
him like claws any time he gets close to Jungkook, he finds himself hesitating. Telling the
members was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing caused by frustration and guilt, but even after
spilling the beans, those two feelings remain.

Their support should make him want to be with Jungkook more now that they’ve explicitly given
their blessings, but ironically, their selflessness makes him think even more that he shouldn’t be
selfish.

At the end of the day, his feelings are on him. It’s not fair that he can’t like who he likes, but it’s
even more unfair to the others who are dragged into this mess. They have to bear the consequences
of his selfishness and for what? None of them asked for this. They don’t deserve it, they didn’t
spend years slaving away practicing, forcing themselves past their limits just to have Taehyung
throw it away because he can’t keep a hold of the goddamn reins on his heart.

Why should they have to suffer when Taehyung isn’t even sure Jungkook likes him back? It’s not
too late to turn back now—even if Jungkook does have some sort of feelings for him, they’re still
in the early stages. They can recover if they smarten up now.

And most of all, he’s terrified that he will be the cause of Jungkook’s downfall. Jungkook is
probably the most important member of BTS. He’s got so much potential and everyone adores him.
How can Taehyung bring himself to destroy a person so precious to him?

He almost doesn’t open the door, afraid to hear what the younger will say and what it’ll make him
want to do. He’s so close to letting him walk away, but the longer he waits, the sadder Jungkook
looks.

“Taehyungie-hyung,” he says, his voice faint through the door. “I know you’re in there.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung mouths to himself.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Jungkook peers up at him, eyes rounding in relief but mouth pulled down in hurt. Fuck, Taehyung
can’t stand this.

“Hey, Jungkookie,” he says, trying for a smile. “What’s up?”

Jungkook blinks at him once, twice. He exhales heavily. “Nothing. I thought...” A muscle in his
cheek twitches. “Uh. Are you sleeping soon?”

“Yeah, probably,” Taehyung lies. “Jiminie seems a bit worn out, so...”

A hint of annoyance makes its way into the other’s tone when he says, “You guys seemed pretty
chipper in your V-live just now.”

“Oh, yeah,” Taehyung stammers. “Yeah, Jiminie said it’d be good to check in with the fans...um...”

For a moment, Jungkook draws up to his full height, eyebrows pinched. He opens his mouth, but
fails to say anything. Taehyung is afraid to meet his eyes.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, Jungkook deflates. His shoulders hunch together and his lips
press into a tight line.
“You’re not gonna let me in,” he says, and it’s not a question.

Taehyung’s heart breaks. He grabs Jungkook by the wrist and drags him bodily inside, letting the
door close behind him. The apologetic baby on his tongue almost doesn’t get swallowed down in
time, and Taehyung has no idea where that came from because he’s never called Jungkook that in
the way he meant just now.

“Kookie, I’m sorry, I was just feeling a little tired, okay?” he soothes, running his palm from the
top of Jungkook’s head all the way down the side of his neck, petting him. “What’s the matter?
Did you want to talk about something?”

Jungkook’s hands come up to his back, so hesitantly that Taehyung reaches back and yanks them
around himself, bringing him into a hug. He breathes in the smell of the younger’s body wash,
feeling himself relax at the familiar scent.

“No,” Jungkook mumbles against his neck. “I—uh. Nothing, never mind.”

Taehyung pulls away, holding him by the shoulders. “What? You know you can tell me.”

Jungkook scowls, slapping him on the arm so lightly he barely feels it. “I wanted to see you,
stupid.”

Taehyung blinks. Then he lets out a mighty groan, turning his face to the ceiling. “Fuuuck. Fuck,
why do you have to make my life so fucking hard.”

“What—” Jungkook bites out, drawing back into himself, but Taehyung grabs him before he can
get away and starts pressing kisses on his jaw, then up towards his ear. Jungkook sags against him
like the tension in every fiber of his being has been sucked out by the single action. “Tae,” he
sighs.

Taehyung’s losing his fucking mind. His head is nothing but a chant of fuck fuck fuck and
Jungkook and I like you so fucking much and be mine, please, because Jungkook is here telling him
he missed him even though they’ve been together this whole day, dancing and singing and hanging
over each other on stage.

His body feels too small for his heart. His lips can’t part from Jungkook’s skin, trailing over his
cheek, up to his eyelids, his temples. Taehyung smooths his hair back, kissing over the shell of his
ear. His stomach aches something desperate when Jungkook’s breath hitches.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses. He pulls back, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands, staring at his
mouth.

“Tae?” Jungkook murmurs.

Taehyung ignores him, leaning forward like he’s hypnotized. How many times has he studied that
pouty cupid’s bow and full bottom lip and imagined all the ways he wanted to get his own mouth
on them?

“Taehyung,” Jungkook says, louder now. “What are y—wait. Tae, stop—”

Taehyung doesn’t hear him, his eyes lidding of their own accord. He just wants to kiss Jungkook
on the mouth once. Please, only once. He’ll never ask for anything more, please. He tilts his head,
eyes on the verge of drifting shut.

“Stop!”
The hands on his chest shove him back, hard.

Taehyung stumbles backwards, eyes flying open. He catches himself on the foot of the bed.

Jungkook is staring at him, his arms still out in front of him, palms white from the force he used to
thrust him away.

“I—I told you to stop,” he says shakily.

Taehyung can’t bring himself to speak. He’s shell-shocked, half collapsed on the bed, his legs
weak.

“S-sorry,” he whimpers.

There’s the click of a door and they both jump, whipping around when Jimin walks out of the
bathroom scrubbing a towel through his wet hair. He sees Taehyung first, taking in his ashen face,
and frowns.

“Taehyung? What are you...”

Then he spots Jungkook who’s frozen against the door, eyes round and panicked. Jimin’s gaze goes
back and forth between the two of them.

Without a word, Jungkook reaches back for the doorknob, rips the door open, and throws himself
into the hall, not bothering to shut it before he stumbles away.

Taehyung manages three more deep breaths before the tears creep up on him, choking him.

“T-Taehyung?” Jimin exclaims, rushing over to him. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

He buries his face in his friend’s chest.

He cries.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jimin doesn’t ask any questions.

Another time, Taehyung will tell him in painful detail what happened, but today’s not the day.
They sleep snuggled up to each other, leaving the second bed bare.

Or, at least, Jimin sleeps. Taehyung can’t.

The next morning when someone comes knocking on the door again, Jimin slides off the bed and
pads over to the peephole. He turns to Taehyung, visibly troubled. Carefully, like he’s afraid
Taehyung will bolt or something, he says, “Um...it’s Jungkook.”

Taehyung flinches.

“Do you...?” Jimin trails off.

He shakes his head and flips to his other side, facing the wall. With the blankets pulled over his
head, he can’t make out the quiet murmuring happening at the door, but he doesn’t need to
understand the words to hear the desperation in Jungkook’s rising voice.

They argue quietly for a long while before Taehyung hears the door shut again. He closes his eyes.
The bed sinks under Jimin’s weight and he feels his hand stroke over his back through the
comforter.

“Doing okay?”

He grunts.

“I hope you brought sunglasses ‘cause I bet your eyes look like golf balls right now.”

“Ugghh,” he groans. “Shit, I hate crying.”

“Uh huh. Well, lucky for you, we don’t have much to do today except catching a flight.” Jimin
pats him some more, gentle and comforting. Almost enough to lull Taehyung to sleep but if it were
that easy, he would’ve passed out sometime during the night. Instead, he was stuck staring at the
wall and listening to the sheets crinkle as Jimin moved around restlessly, his mind a blank, staticky
canvas. “Hey, I think I saw some ice in the freezer. I’ll grab a towel or something and you can ice
your eyes, it’ll help.”

“Thanks, Jiminie.”

There’s the sound of the fridge opening followed by running water from the bathroom, and soon
his friend is back. He coaxes Taehyung out of the covers, sucking in a breath through his teeth
when he sees his face, and ignores his whines as he sets the makeshift ice pack over his eyes.

Taehyung sighs, one hand holding the towel in place, trying to find peace in the darkness behind
his closed lids.

“You should talk to Jungkook,” Jimin says lightly as he shuffles about the room. “He seemed
pretty messed up, I bet he didn’t sleep either.”
Nausea roils in Taehyung’s stomach. He doesn’t want to talk.

He’s sorry, of course he is. He’d never, ever want to do anything against Jungkook’s will and it
disgusts him already that he had to literally get shoved off because he couldn’t stop himself. He is
so sorry. He didn’t mean to let this get out of hand.

But having to verbally apologize for trying to kiss Jungkook, to have to say the words ‘I’m sorry I
tried to kiss you even though you didn’t want it’—that will destroy him.

“Taehyung, seriously. Talk to him, okay? I don’t think it’ll end badly.”

He sinks his teeth into the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting loose a wild laugh.
“Later,” he says, and Jimin lets it go for the time being.

Jungkook fits himself into Taehyung’s side as soon as they’re gathered in the lobby of the hotel, but
touching him makes Taehyung’s heart ache, so he moves away and keeps his eyes away. Not
before he catches the flicker of hurt on Jungkook’s face as he stares after him, though, and oh no,
he really does look like shit. Taehyung feels horrible. He considers squeezing Jungkook’s shoulder
in reassurance, wants to watch his face light up like always, but his arm won’t listen to him.

His aloofness doesn’t seem to deter the maknae, who continues to follow him around while
keeping a foot of space between them. It’s not like they can talk when they’re with the members.
Taehyung doesn’t know what he’s trying to do.

On the plane, Jungkook begs Jimin to switch seats with him so he can sit next to Taehyung and
Jimin hesitates, but at Taehyung’s bruising grip on his forearm and pleading gaze, he shakes his
head. Jungkook stands frozen, looking lost. His stutter gets worse as he tries to ask again, but
Taehyung forces himself to walk away and Jimin follows before they both inevitably cave.

It’s unfair to Jungkook, he knows, and he’ll beat himself up the whole flight for forcing him to
make a face like that. Still, he can’t sit next to him for two and a half hours and listen to him go in
circles trying to explain that he doesn’t hate Taehyung for wanting to kiss him because they’ll
always be family no matter what and that he loves Taehyung, just not in the way he wants.
Taehyung’s not ready to break down in front of everyone.

It’s better this way, anyway. How many times has he recited to himself the million and one reasons
they can’t be together? At least now he doesn’t need any more convincing.

When they get back to the dorms, he immediately holes himself up in his room, joined only by his
two roommates. Hoseok shoots him a couple concerned and confused looks and asks if he’s okay,
nothing Taehyung can’t laugh off. He doesn’t know if it’s a matter of lost momentum or lack of
privacy that keeps Jungkook from barging in and demanding to talk to him like Taehyung thought
he might.

No matter, he tells himself. Maybe he should’ve known it wasn’t as big a deal to Jungkook as it
was to him.
He picks up his script for Hwarang, which sits on the only free spot on his desk because he
specifically cleared a space to put it there. His first ever drama. He’s gonna keep every volume of
the script, might even laminate them later so he can look back and read them when he’s eighty and
reminiscing on the good ol’ idol life.

The stack of papers throws him back to months ago when the role offer came and the members
took him out to eat and threw a mini congratulations party, calling him “Hansuunng” all night.
Jungkook was his loudest, most obnoxious supporter, and the first person he told. He remembers
the way his eyes first got really big, followed by his mouth dropping open, and then his face split
into the hugest smile ever. His voice went chipmunk-high when he squeaked out, “Seriously?!”
and he threw open his arms, chin jutted out as his beaming took on a prideful edge.

“You’re gonna make the most handsome hwarang ever,” he said, and Taehyung laughed, taking
advantage of the rare invitation to hug.

His stomach twists as he thinks of how happy they were then. He smooths his fingers over the bold,
cursive font on the cover, wondering if he’ll be able to do the script justice.

What was originally his celebrated first step into the world of acting becomes an escape. One
second Taehyung’s busy and the next he’s busy, barely getting a couple hours of sleep each night.
As tiring as it is, he doesn’t mind. Sometimes when he’s forced to stay in the dorm for longer
periods of time, he’ll catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s smile from around a corner, and his lungs will
catch on fire and he’ll be hit with the urge to run outside like the only thing that can douse the
flames is distance.

Being a part of such a large production is stressful but fun. The sense of accomplishment that
comes from acting is different from singing or dancing. The latter two are things he’s been
professionally trained and practiced years for. Acting, on the other hand, while involving
techniques that he recalls from the meager experience they had when they were trainees and those
he learns from sunbaes or the director, primarily seems to be emotion-driven. It’s also a test of how
detail-oriented and creative he can be. He has to bring to life a real person out of black words on
white paper, and that’s one thing he has confidence in: his imagination. The director compliments
him on the genuineness of his acting and the depth of his emotion, helping him shake his initial
shyness, motivate him to do even better.

Most of the time when he gets home after filming, he’s in a spacey but relatively good mood. This
is the case one day when he’s barely dragged himself into the dorm and Jungkook materializes out
of nowhere, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to his room. Taehyung has no hope of
escaping even though the grip on him is loose enough for him to tear away if he really wants to.

But he knows the talk has been a long time coming—has it really been a week already? Time sure
flies when you’re running away from something—and a part of him wants to get it over with
already. He’s tired of having this hanging over his head.

Namjoon is noticeably absent from the room. Taehyung wonders if Jungkook asked him to leave
or if his waiting simply paid off since Taehyung’s been getting home at a disgustingly late time
since filming began.

The idle thoughts drift into nothingness as he takes in the other man, who’s got his arms crossed,
standing in front of the door like he’s blocking Taehyung from making his escape.

“Long time no see,” Taehyung says easily, the picture of nonchalance when he leans his hip
against Namjoon’s desk, as if his heart isn’t already thundering in his ears.
Jungkook’s features sharpen and he doesn’t say it out loud but the rest of him says everything. The
unspoken "because of you."

Or maybe he isn’t thinking that and the words are just Taehyung’s guilt speaking. Who knows, at
this point. There are too many things Taehyung feels like he should know but doesn’t.

Jungkook doesn’t end up replying at all, not even with a grunt, so Taehyung breathes in deeply,
wondering how he should approach this.

“How’ve you been?” he tries this time. The question sounds odd to him, much too estranged, too
generic for two people with their kind of relationship, but he wants to say it anyway because it
encompasses the busybody things he shouldn’t be asking. Are you eating okay? Sleeping okay?
Not working without rest or anything, are you?

The expression on Jungkook’s face is something that’s hard to decipher. But whatever the stormy,
indignant, nervous, distressed mess is supposed to be, before it even has the chance to settle,
Taehyung caves. He’s never been able to do anything but cave when it comes to this guy.

“Look, Jungkook-ah,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty hyung.
And friend.”

Jungkook’s face shifts to surprise. “You’re not a shi—”

He holds up a hand. “I have been. I just—I made a mistake and it was embarrassing, okay? I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”

Jungkook is quiet. Taehyung finds the courage to bring his hand down and studies the two deep
wrinkles between his brows, the small frown.

He sighs for the second time, regretting how harsh it sounds when Jungkook’s eyes dart up to his
before falling away again. He’s being surprisingly quiet for someone who was so determined to
talk, but Taehyung isn’t complaining. The fact that he doesn’t want to hear some roundabout
explanation hasn’t changed in this past week. Call it cowardice or self-centeredness, but he can’t.

“I want us to go back to normal, Kook,” he says softly. “Can we?”

Jungkook is visibly stunned, eyelids fluttering in rapid half blinks.

Then his eyes narrow, like he’s suspicious. Of what, Taehyung has no idea. Briefly, he entertains
the idea that Jungkook doesn’t find him trustworthy anymore.

But thankfully, whatever Jungkook is seeking in him, he seems to find, because his lips part, his
face brightening just like Taehyung wanted.

“Yeah,” he says quickly, his arms falling to his sides. He rubs his palms over his sweatpants, then
slides his hands into pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Yeah, I—that’s cool.”

Taehyung breathes out a sigh of relief. “Okay, good,” he says, smiling at him, the first in a long
while. It’s an honest smile, bittersweet, but hopefully Jungkook will write off the bitter half of it as
something else.

He decides he needs to cut off the conversation before the bitterness can take over him. “Well, I’m
pooped, gonna go shower and sleep now. G’night.”

“Ah, yeah.” Jungkook’s answering smile is barely visible but just as real, relief obvious in his
relaxed brow and rolled-back shoulders. He moves out of the way of the door, letting Taehyung
open it. “’Night, Tae.”

Taehyung flinches at the nickname, his cheeks growing stiff. He turns away so Jungkook can’t see.
“Yeah, bye,” he mutters.

It’s been a good few days since Taehyung’s had the leisure to fix himself a nice breakfast and sit at
the kitchen counter partly enjoying it, partly zoning out. Sometimes he thinks the peak of happiness
is the spike after a good concert and sometimes he thinks this is what life is truly about: gentle
spring sunlight warming the room, drifting in the serene silence that can only be found in the
mornings, enough sugar in his cereal to give him diabetes washed down with fresh milk.

Ahh. A life of luxury.

He crunches on contently, determined to ignore all his problems as he’s become adept at doing,
basking in the moment.

Jungkook comes waddling into the kitchen, hair a bird’s nest and both hands rubbing at his eyes.

Taehyung’s first reaction when he sees him is to freeze, spoon halfway to his mouth, before his
body reconnects with his mind and he remembers the talk from the night before.

Okay, great, it was about time to swap his early morning contentment for awkwardness anyway.
Murphy’s Law and all that, y’know. He should’ve been big-brained enough to expect it.

Despite the tiny part of him that makes itself known in the dead of night, screaming, hating the fall
from what they had to what they are now, Taehyung truly does want things to go back to normal.
Even if this normal is a diluted, platonic version of the original, it’s better than whatever last week
was.

So this is his cue to cancel his fight or flight instinct, but unfortunately, the earliness of the day
wipes out the line of command between his heart and everything else.

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks when he sees Taehyung, his mouth hanging open, before he
appears to remember too. He presses his lips together, standing up straighter, hands pulling at the
edge of his hoodie.

“Morning,” he rasps. Clears his throat. “Um...is there any cereal left?”

Taehyung quickly crams in a mouthful for no reason. His arm just decided that was a good course
of action and he couldn’t find the wits to disagree. He gestures towards the open box without
speaking.

Jungkook wanders closer to him to get to the box. He’s devastatingly cute up close. What exactly
about him is devastatingly cute in this moment, you ask? Is it the bleariness or sleep-pink skin or
tangles in his hair?

Everything. The answer is everything. God, Taehyung’s heart hurts.

Well, if he’s starting to be able to crack jokes like these to himself, that’s a good sign. The moping
was threatening to smoke out his brain cells.

After Jungkook finishes pouring a bowl, he glances around at the empty seats, beginning to look
anxious again. Taehyung thinks about gesturing towards the stool next to his as a peace offering or
something, but before he can get over that internal debate, the other is squaring his shoulders and
marching over. He sets his bowl on the counter, pointedly moves his stool right beside Taehyung’s,
and climbs up on it. Their arms brush together as he picks up his spoon and begins to eat.

Taehyung tries not to stare in shock and disbelief and adoration. By the way Jungkook flashes him
a grin, he thinks maybe he doesn’t do a good job.

“You’re, uh. Wearing it,” Jungkook says.

Taehyung balks. “Huh?”

Jungkook points at the bracelet around his left hand. The birthday present he gave him.

“Oh. Yeah. Uh. I got used to it, you know. I forget to take it off.”

Even though just looking at the thing this past week made him want to bawl, he couldn’t bring
himself to put it away. It’d feel too final. Like he was really losing something.

A big-toothed smile is turned on him, and Jungkook sits up straighter. “Then don’t take it off.”

“M-Mmhm, okay.”

“So how’s filming going?” Jungkook kicks his legs and Taehyung briefly worries he’ll bang his
toes against the kitchen island. “You had to learn horseback riding, right?”

“Yeah...yeah, it was. Cool.”

“Sounds so fun. I wanna try sometime too.”

“Sejin-hyung could probably arrange something.”

“Hm. Yeah. But I wanna do it with everyone, wouldn’t be as fun alone.” His eyes skim from the
counter up to Taehyung, but he doesn’t hold the gaze as he asks, “So what’s acting like? Is it
hard?”

“Kinda. It’s different.”

“Tell me.”

“Okay...well, there was this time the director scolded me because I couldn’t stop saying this one
stupid line in my Gyeongsang-do accent...”

“So I’m guessing you talked to him? You guys seem better now.”

Taehyung doesn’t take his attention off the mirror, running his razor carefully along his jaw. If he
nicks himself by accident, the director will have his head.

“Yeah,” he says, keeping his mouth as closed as possible to not disrupt his progress. “A couple
days ago.”

“Hmm...”

Taehyung presses his lips together at the obviously skeptical tone. Asking about it will take this
conversation down a path he doesn’t want to go, which he already knows Jimin’s going to do
anyway, he’s just putting off the inevitable.
Jimin refrains from answering as he finishes patting the water from his freshly washed face. He
pushes his headband further back before reaching for his toner and the sound of him slapping
himself with it echoes in the bathroom. “Doesn’t seem like you talked talked,” he finally says.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung feigns ignorance.

Jimin sighs like he’s just asked why the sky is blue, like, I dunno, Taehyung, I’m the sane one
between us and this is the type of dumb shit you would know since you’re the expert of knowing
dumb shit.

Taehyung flicks the razor in the sink and gives it a quick rinse under water. He sets it aside, wipes
his face of shaving cream, and then because that marks the end of his List of Things To Do To
Avoid Your Problems, crosses his arms and stares off somewhere so he doesn’t have to meet his
friend’s eyes. Which is a feat because the bathroom’s mirror pretty much takes up half the wall.

Still, Jimin’s judgmental silence gets too heavy for him to handle, so he lets an annoyed puff of air
out of his nose.

“He told me to stop twice and shoved me away when I tried to kiss him, Minnie. I don’t know
what there is to talk about.”

Jimin, the angel, actually stops in the middle of his skincare routine to slam both hands on the
counter. “Yeah, well, maybe you just surprised him! Or he wasn’t sure what he wanted yet but
didn’t mean for it to be a complete rejection! There are so many possibilities and you didn’t ask,
you know how emotionally constipated that kid is!”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t...can we stop talking about this?”

“Taehyung-ah, you hav—”

“If that was the case then he would’ve said something to me afterwards!” Taehyung says, and it
comes out too close to a snarl. “He dragged me into his room, pretty much locked me in there, and
then didn’t say a damn thing! I told him to pretend none of it happened and you should’ve seen
him, Jimin. He was so relieved. So happy to forget all of it and that everything would go back to
normal. He didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I don—fuck.”

He whips his towel at the wall, fed up. Silence eats up the air between them.

“Taetae,” Jimin says sadly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think...”

“It’s fine.” He closes his eyes. “Sorry I yelled.”

“It’s okay.”

“God, I...I have a bunch of pent-up everything.”

“Hey.” Jimin grabs his shoulders in his small hands and kneads. “You’re free for the rest of the
day, right?”

He mentally runs through his schedule, exhaling as he lets himself relax under Jimin’s massaging
technique. “Yeah, filming finished in the afternoon.”
“Wanna grab dinner together? Whatever you want, my treat.”

“Ugh.” Taehyung turns around and drapes himself over him. “I know it’s a pity dinner but I’d
never turn down free food.”

“Shut up, it’s a cheer-up-my-dumb-soulmate dinner. And yeah, I know you can’t resist free food,
that’s why I offered, cheapskate.”

“’Scuse you.”

They shuffle outside and into their bedroom so they can grab their phones and wallets, then make
their way towards the foyer, Taehyung still clinging to Jimin’s back and forcing him to half carry
him around. For once, he isn’t met with a ton of exaggerated complaints about how annoying and
clingy and heavy he is. Usually, only one person willingly allows him to use them as transportation
without a single word of objection, indulging and fond. The thought sits heavy in his chest.

As luck would have it, when they pass by the couch in the living room, a head pops up, turning to
watch them over the side.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asks, making them both jump.

Jimin lets out a little yelp and Taehyung stares at him, spooked.

“Uh, dinner!” Jimin says, high-pitched.

“Oh.” Jungkook goggles at them, gaze bouncing back and forth between the two. “Can I come?”

Taehyung faces the wall like a wimp, not wanting to see this. Jimin stammers for a second too long
before deciding on, “S-sorry, Jungkook-ah, I, um. I promised I’d treat Taetae and—I’m poor lately,
if you come I’ll be broke ‘cause you eat so much, you know, haha—”

A bold-faced lie because Jimin is one of the most frugal members and definitely not poor after
their last couple of successful comebacks.

Taehyung isn’t looking at Jungkook’s face, but his voice alone is almost enough for Taehyung to
go sprinting out the door. “I-I can pay for myself,” he says indignantly, not his usual playful whine,
the one where he’s actually offended. And wounded. And it says a lot because Taehyung can
count on one hand the number of times he’s offered to pay without it being a special occasion or if
he’s goaded into it.

Jimin is whispering fuck fuck fuck under his breath, obviously just as horrified as Taehyung at what
they’ve done to their maknae, but Jungkook scoffs before they can say anything. “Whatever, never
mind. Rapmon-hyung asked if I wanted to eat with him anyway, it’s fine. Just go.”

They stutter out some apologies and goodbyes and make their escape.

Halfway down the street, Taehyung stops in his tracks, groaning. “We have to go get him. Jimin-
ah. He sounded so—oh god, I feel like such a dick. We’re such shitty people. The plane thing too,
fuck, we can’t do this.” He turns on his heel, starting back up the hill to their dorm. Jimin catches
up to him, grabbing his shoulder.

“No,” he berates, even though his voice wavers. “Tonight’s about you, Taetae. Having Jungkook
there would defeat the entire purpose!”

“I know, I know, but—”

“Come on, I'll talk to him later, okay? I'm sure he's fine, he's a big boy.”

“But—”

“No buts! Harden up your heart, you moron! C’mon!”

Jimin captures him by the arm and drags him off.

Dinner is something of a gloomy, guilty affair before Jimin gets his hands on some soju and
orange juice, mixing them and sliding the small shot glass across the table. Being the lightweight
that he is, it takes Taehyung exactly one and a half shots of the diluted stuff before he’s giggling at
all of the other’s lame jokes, returning them with babbling, aimless stories of his own.

At the back of his mind, he knows he’s needed this. The release from his thoughts is sweet. It’s not
even the alcohol, really, that’s just the catalyst, the excuse he needed. He tells Jimin how grateful
he is for him. Taehyung doesn’t care one bit that the older gets too emotionally invested in
Taehyung’s problems sometimes or that he isn’t the best judge of when to push and when to give
space, because what’s most important is he’s here and willing to try to understand. That’s all
Taehyung needs. He’s so thankful Jimin offers his empathy freely because he would never be able
to ask for it himself no matter how much he needed help.

The cool night air gradually sobers them as they lope back to the dorms, arms around each other’s
shoulders and taking turns making up verses for a song about random things like Taehyung’s
extensive tie collection.

Yoongi and Hoseok greet them in amusement when they prance past them into the kitchen to put
away the extra food they brought back for the members.

“Tteokbokki and skewers on the counter!” Jimin shouts to the rest of the apartment. “Come grab
some before it gets cold!”

“Or before Namjoon-hyung eats it all!” Taehyung adds.

“Hey, I heard that!” comes Namjoon’s voice from his room.

They chortle to themselves. The others are slow to arrive so they end up pulling out toothpicks to
stab at the tteokbokki, now that it’s out in the open looking all delicious.

“Y’know what you need,” Jimin says, his words a bit slurred still, though he’s got the presence of
mind to keep his volume down. “Ya gotta fuck someone. Get it outta your system.”

Taehyung wheezes. He smacks himself on the chest. “Dude! You know people can die from
choking on sticky rice!”

“Hey, I’m just sayin’. Wouldn’t be uncommon amongst idols, we’re gorgeous, stressed, energetic
creatures.” Jimin leers at him. “What about Bogum-hyung, huh? He’s cute.”

“Duuuude, noo.”

“He’s such a bottom, I swear to god. Either that or the mushy, loving type of top that kisses every
inch of your skin.”

“Oh my god, I did not need that image in my mind.”

“Don’t jerk off too hard later.”

“Park Jimin!”

“What? I can appreciate a hot piece of ass if I want to.”

“He’s our hyung,” Taehyung hisses. “And I thought you were straight, what happened to that?”

Jimin shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“I mean I don’t know.”

“Oh. Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, if you ever want someone to talk to, I live literally two feet from you, so.”

“Thanks, Taetae.”

“No problem.”

Jimin pulls at his pinky, a nervous habit from when he used to do it every day hoping the tiny thing
would get longer. Taehyung never knew why it mattered, he thinks Jimin’s small hands are cute.
“Maybe I’m not a fan of labels. Or maybe I can’t figure myself out.”

“Who even cares?” Taehyung slaps his ass. “You can just be the preacher of love or something.
Love all the pretty things in the world.”

“Huh. I kinda like the sound of that.”

“Ayy.”

“Ayyy.”

As they walk back to their room, tummies full and coasting the waves of a fun outing with good
company, Jimin whispers to him, “If you decide to fuck Bogum-hyung, let me know so I can say ‘I
told you so,’ okay? Soulmate privileges.”

Taehyung’s eyes roll up to the ceiling.

An hour later after three glasses of water, the alcohol has pretty much been flushed out of his
system. He feels completely sober, a little too sober in fact because now he’s remembering again
the hurt on Jungkook’s face when they blatantly excluded him from dinner. Taehyung gathers up a
plateful of the younger’s favourites, heats them up in the microwave, and knocks on his door.

“Yeah?” Namjoon calls.

Taehyung walks in. Their leader takes a look at him, glances back at Jungkook who’s curled up on
his bed playing with his phone, and picks up his laptop.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, patting Taehyung on the shoulder on his way out. “Thanks for the
food, by the way.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The door closes a bit too loudly, as expected of the god of destruction. Taehyung clears his throat.

“Hey, Kookie.”

He’s met with silence.

“Are you busy?”

Silence.

“Uh. I know you’ve probably eaten already...maybe?”

And more silence.

“Jiminie and I brought back some meat for you. I ding’d it in the microwave. I’ll just...should I
leave it here?”

Jungkook doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t make a sound, his back to Taehyung. His phone screen is
open to some web page and he’s scrolling too fast to be reading anything. For once, his ears are
free of earbuds or headphones.

Self-loathing curdles in Taehyung’s stomach. He had this whole speech prepared, apologies and
excuses and placations, but he can’t stand how tense Jungkook is, a string pulled taut to its limits.
He looks like he might shatter if Taehyung pushes any more, and determination to fix this before
they get to that point flares up inside him.

He slams the plate on the desk and tackles Jungkook, wrapping all his limbs around him like an
octopus over the comforter.

“What—” Jungkook gasps out, and Taehyung is so relieved he’s said something that he’s afraid
he’ll start tearing up.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “I’m sorry, Jungkookie, don’t be sad, please.”

He wants to apologize for not bringing him to dinner, but he’d have to explain why they didn’t. He
wants to apologize for being so distant lately, but he’d have to explain why he couldn’t bear being
close. He wants to apologize for trying to kiss him, but he’d have to explain why he wanted to in
the first place.

So he just repeats his vague sorry’s into the nape of Jungkook’s neck, praying he’ll understand and
not think that Taehyung doesn’t adore him with all his heart, as if that could ever be a possibility.
He squeezes Jungkook tight in his arms, sucked back into his memories of the teenage version of
him, scrawny and insecure and mute, refusing to speak his thoughts because he was afraid of
causing trouble for anyone. Taehyung’s lips are drawn towards his warm skin, simply to comfort,
but he holds himself back, refusing to make the same mistake twice.

“—yung. Hyung. Taehyung!”

He doesn’t realize his eyes have closed. He opens them now, startled to see that the Jungkook
burrito is facing him, grimacing.

“Kook?”
“Stop hugging me so tight, I can’t breathe,” he grumbles.

“Oh, sorry.”

He lets go entirely. Jungkook starts nudging him away and Taehyung stiffens, afraid he’ll make
him leave, but the maknae is only freeing the edges of the comforter so he can throw it over
Taehyung too.

Jungkook stares at him flatly. Taehyung is too afraid to hug him without the barrier so he wraps his
arms around himself.

“Sorr—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in. “I know you’ve had a rough couple of weeks, hyung. You’re busy and tired
and wanted to hang out with Jimin-hyung, I get it, okay?”

“Bu—”

“And I know why you...didn’t want me there this time. It’s fine.”

The admission makes Taehyung want to cry. So Jungkook does know everything, then. None of
this was a misunderstanding.

Another piece of his heart breaks even though he’d thought everything that could be broken already
was.

“Okay,” he bites out. “But I’m still sorry.”

Jungkook sighs. “Hyung, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m not some little kid that’s
gonna think you hate me just ‘cause I wasn’t included for the first time ever.”

“...Well, you sure looked like it.”

“Wh—huh—no I didn’t!” Jungkook yells. “That was just in the moment, before I...I was just
messing with you!”

Taehyung shuts him up with a hug because he doesn’t want to make him lie anymore. “I missed
you,” he murmurs, threading his fingers through shiny dark hair. “Jungkookie.”

Jungkook sniffs him shamelessly, breathing him in, and Taehyung hopes he doesn’t smell too
much like barbecue meat.

“You smell like barbecue.”

“Goddammit, I knew it.”

“Whatever, I wasn’t complaining.”

There’s a gurgly sound under the sheets and Taehyung blinks when he realizes it was Jungkook’s
stomach growling. He quickly sits up, mourns to himself when the younger’s arms drop away.

“I brought you food!” He hops off the bed, retrieves the plate, and sits back down, holding the
chopsticks out to Jungkook. Who opens his mouth and waits. “Wow, really.”

Jungkook merely points at his open mouth and raises an eyebrow.

 “Brat,” Taehyung mutters, but feeds him a piece of chicken anyway. He smiles when Jungkook
groans in satisfaction and sits up so he can stuff all the food in his mouth himself. Taehyung pets
his head, so filled with affection he could explode.

He leaves a little while later, after the food is finished and he’s caught Jungkook up on the tiny
things that’ve happened to him but that he kept from sharing during his isolate-self-from-source-of-
heartache period. Taehyung doesn’t sleep in Jungkook’s bed with him, and Jungkook doesn’t ask,
nor does he follow him into his bed.

And that’s for the best.

Time heals all wounds. Taehyung will be just fine.

Chapter End Notes

thanks for reading <333 lemme know what u thought!

 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Hoseok collapses next to him after they finish running through the song for the eighth time in a
row, the both of them making for two big starfish stretched out in the middle of the dance studio.
Sweat makes the wood floors slippery, droplets here, puddles there that Taehyung doesn't even
bother avoiding anymore.

It’s disgusting. They’ve all gotten used to it.

“We need to wipe the floors before the next song,” Seokjin calls from across the room where he’s
sitting against a mirror. “Or Namjoon will trip and break his and everyone else’s necks.”

“Aw, hyuung.”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

Namjoon sulks.

Jungkook rolls all the way from his spot ten feet away to Taehyung’s side, stopping only when he
bumps into his legs. He stretches his limbs as long as they go and lets out a loud, exhausted groan.

“Don’t you dare,” Taehyung mutters.

He really should’ve known better because that only makes Jungkook cackle before he rolls right
over Taehyung’s torso, reveling in his pained moan, to go cuddle against Hoseok’s back.

Taehyung wrestles against both jealousy and disbelief that Jungkook-the-clean-freak is willing to
touch Hoseok when they’re both dripping. Hoseok keens in wordless complaint, trying to push him
away, but the muscle pig doesn’t budge so he just gives up, lying there like a limp noodle.
Taehyung resents him a little. Like, why wouldn’t you appreciate cuddles from Mr. International
Playboy to the fullest, sweaty or not. Taehyung gets cuddles from him relatively (?) often but every
time still feels like heavenly light and angel song and the smell of freshly baked bread. Taehyung
fuckin’ loves bread.

A few minutes later, Jungkook seems to lose interest in cuddling a lifeless blob and turns back
around to him, perking up when he sees that Taehyung has started playing a game on his phone.
He scoots closer to watch the screen.

“What’s that?” he asks, soft and low.

“Hmm...a drawing game.”

“Who’re you playing against?”

“Some rando.” He pauses and they both watch as a doodle of some kind of animal pops up.
Taehyung types ‘cat’ into the bar at the same time Jungkook snorts, “Is that supposed to be a cat?”
A big green check mark flashes on the screen. “So basically, we take turns drawing the prompt, the
other person has to guess it, and the two of us as a team have to win against the other team.”

“Oh? Sounds fun.”

“You should download it. There’s partner mode so you can choose who you team up with.”

“Ooh, V-hyung and me, we’d dominate everyone else, bro.”

“Yeah, we got telepathy, bro.”

“I’m gonna get my phone,” Jungkook says, determined, and even goes so far as to pick himself off
the ground and actually use his legs to get there.

Before he’s able to grab it though, Hoseok is back on his feet like he wasn’t ninety-eight percent
deceased two seconds ago and claps loudly, calling out that break time is over and they’re moving
on to the new song. Taehyung looks over at their maknae. He’s bent over his bag, pouting in
Hoseok’s direction. Taehyung laughs at him.

“Wow, worst timing ever,” Jungkook whines as he lugs himself back. “Play with me later, V-
hyung.”

“’Kay. I’m gonna be filming tonight though.”

“I know. You’re free before dinner, right?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe you’re making an appointment with me to play a drawing game. You wanna
spend time with your favourite hyung that bad, huh? Tsk, cutie-pie.”

Jungkook throws a towel at him. “No, it’s just ‘cause I’m bored!”

“Uh huh.”

“Stop making that face!”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ugghh.” Jungkook looms over him, holding on to the annoyed act even though he offers his hands
to Taehyung, looking at him upside-down. Taehyung lets him pull him to his feet and cracks his
neck, shaking out his legs. “Let’s geddit,” Jungkook says, brushing off the back of his tie-dye t-
shirt for him.

“Yeeh.”

Jungkook’s lying stomach-down on Jimin’s bed, legs swinging and gazing into his phone like it
holds all the answers to the universe. Yoongi’s sitting beside him, also on Jimin’s bed, squinting
equally hard at Jungkook’s phone. The actual owner of the bed appears to have been kicked out for
some reason and is currently sitting cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with a bluetooth speaker
and his own phone.

Taehyung’s curious what they’re doing and wants to join in on the silent fun too, but he’s already
running late. He runs around the room, roots for a cap and slaps it on, pats his pockets to make
sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Jungkook seems to get distracted by his fuss, making a noise of
question from behind him.

“I thought you were gonna go Hwarang, hyung,” he says.

“Oh yeah, it got cancelled last minute ‘cause of weather.”

“Where are you going then?” Jimin asks.

“Bogumie-hyung asked if I wanted to try that hotpot place. I’ll probably be home late tonight.”

“Wh-why?”

It’s the note of alarm and sudden stutter that has him turning to Jungkook, because there are a
number of things that could possibly trigger his little quirk: if he’s in a rush to say something or his
mouth isn’t fast enough to keep up with his brain, or more worrying is if something’s making him
nervous, agitated, or sad. But Taehyung can’t see how any of those situations applied just now.

The way Jungkook is looking at him too, the evident tightness in his jaw and his eyes that are—
almost pleading?

Mind reeling, Taehyung stumbles over his words. “’Cause...we’re probably gonna be chatting for a
while? I haven’t seen him in months.”

Jungkook’s mouth opens to say something but Taehyung’s phone vibrates in his hand, ripping him
out of the unnerving staring contest. He swears under his breath. “Gotta go, guys! See ya!”

“Have fuuun~” Jimin teases like the little shit he is and Taehyung resists the urge to kick him. Ever
since their drunken night out a few weeks ago, Jimin has turned Bogum into a whole inside joke.
As in, Taehyung is supposedly totally gonna fall head over heels in lust with him and soon they’ll
be banging like rabbits and it’ll be great because one, he’ll stop being a sad virgin, and two, he’ll
discover the amazingness of sex and probably get addicted for a while like newly deflowered
virgins tend to do and Jimin will cheer him on from the sidelines with all the support and
harassment of a true platonic soulmate.

Taehyung hates the joke because it grosses him out. Jimin loves it for the same reason. They both
know it’ll never come true.

Before leaving the room, Taehyung spares one last glance at Jungkook, whose stricken expression
makes his legs drag, heavy as lead. He has no idea what’s going on. The look tugs at his
heartstrings hard enough for him to pause, nearly ditch the dinner, but he can’t, that’d be so rude,
especially after he was the one who asked Bogum to meet him.

Whatever’s going through Jungkook’s head will pass anyway, it’s probably something silly.
Taehyung’s being overprotective and paranoid.

As he forces himself to step into the hallway, he hears Yoongi deadpan, “You know it’s fucking
weird that you could tell he wasn’t going filming just by what clothes he was wearing, right?”

There’s a long, jarring pause that has Taehyung holding his breath.

Then Jungkook huffs, “You can’t tell? You’re not observant enough, hyung.”

“Kid. What is the difference between the hoodie he wears to work and the hoodie he wears to hang
out with friends.”

“They—they’re different! It’s the feeling!”

Jimin bursts out in peals of laughter while Yoongi audibly rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

Taehyung presses his lips together to stop from smiling.

Okay, phew. So he was just being dumb after all, good to know.
And also, that was, like, the cutest thing Jungkook’s ever said, what the hell. If he could stop being
adorable for one damn second, it’d make life a lot easier for Taehyung.

Inconsiderate little punk.

Taehyung gets back to the dorm late enough to hear Namjoon’s snores through the walls, faint but
audible. It’s pitch black inside save for the light coming from Jungkook’s phone where he’s lying
on the couch. The scene is familiar.

What isn’t familiar is Jungkook shooting up as soon as he sees Taehyung. The urgency has him
stopping in his tracks, alarmed.

“Kookie?” he whispers.

Jungkook’s face quickly evens out. “You’re late, Taehyungie-hyung.”

“Yeah...I told you I would be. Why aren’t you asleep?”

Jungkook’s phone screen dims and Taehyung walks over, plopping down next to him and flipping
the switch for the closest lamp. For some reason, he feels like he shouldn’t take his eyes off
Jungkook’s face right now.

Jungkook doesn’t move any closer but his torso leans forward like he’s doing it unconsciously, and
he takes a long whiff. Taehyung doesn’t imagine his sensitive nose appreciates much the smell of
kimchi hotpot sticking to his clothes, but the other visibly relaxes, eyes drooping.

“Jungkook-ah, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says immediately with a smile. But the smile doesn’t seem entirely genuine.

“You sure?”

“Yes, hyung,” this time accompanied by an eye roll.

“Okay,” Taehyung says slowly. He examines him for a moment longer, sees the tiredness
weighing him down, his body melting into the couch. “Go to sleep,” he urges, patting him on the
knee, and stands. “I’m gonna go wash up. G’night, Jungkookie.”

“Night.”

Months ago, Taehyung would’ve dragged them to bed together or Jungkook would’ve followed
him into his room like there was nowhere else he belonged, and Taehyung would’ve kissed him on
the cheek before falling asleep cushioned by his warmth. But he can’t do that anymore, no matter
how much he misses it. So he heads for the washroom, not failing to notice Jungkook’s quiet
exhale behind him.

For the next little while, Taehyung keeps an eye on the maknae, checking for any other
irregularities, but he seems to be completely fine.

So he falls back into his normal routine of practicing, composing—he’s started to up his game
lately, wanting to become more involved in their song-writing process again after “Hold Me
Tight”—and acting, of course. The Hwarang hyungs are so incredibly kind to him, making him
feel cared for and supported whenever something doesn’t go the way he wants it to.

Jacket shoots for their “Young Forever” special album, music video filming for “Fire” and “Save
Me,” and promotions and comeback stages pass by in a blur. Taehyung keeps thinking he’ll get
used to hearing BTS’s name during award ceremonies, but each time brings an indescribable rush
of emotions, so intense he has a hard time keeping his face straight in front of the cameras. He can
see the same restraint and disbelief and elation reflected in the members’ faces.

Riding on the happiness of another wildly successful comeback, a few short days later when they
hit the peak of spring, their managers reveal a new project that involves travelling to Europe on
their own. It’s under the premise that they’ll do everything by themselves, but reality is they’ll
have a film crew following them around and a management team dedicated to making sure Big
Hit’s enormous investments don’t accidentally maim themselves or get kidnapped or something.
Which is actually sort of likely given how sheltered and reckless they are.

Doesn’t matter though, they’re going on a trip to a foreign country that won’t be for a concert and
will get to see more than the inside of a hotel! Taehyung is thrilled. He can’t wait to check out
Europe’s refreshing scenery and architecture, it’s gonna be so cool.

As funny as it is watching the members scramble around trying to pack everything within an hour,
he feels an eensy teensy bit lonely. He’s missing out on a day’s worth of the trip because of his
Hwarang schedule, which means extra time for him to pack, but maybe he’s a masochist because
he kind of wants to be freaking out along with them.

Jungkook runs from one end of the dorm to the other, chanting to himself, getting louder and
higher-pitched the longer he goes without finding what he’s looking for. He skids to a halt when he
sees Taehyung and slurs out, “Battery?”

Taehyung shrugs, so he runs off again. He snickers after the younger and shouts at his retreating
back, “Which of your two hundred white t-shirts are you bringing?”

“Rapmon-hyung said no white shirts!” he cries. “What shirts do I—no, battery first!”

Taehyung chuckles. Jimin comes wandering into the kitchen looking comically confused, a
backpack slung over his shoulder. “I think I’m done? But I’m not sure? I just have one of
everything and a bunch of underwear and socks.”

“Eh, sounds about right.”

“Yeah, whatever, we can always buy more if we need to.”

“Yuup.”

Jimin sits down next to him, pushing his hair back. “When are you gonna be joining us?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know the exact time or anything. Try not to miss me too much.”

“Ha, please, we’re gonna have so much fun without you.”

“You’ll experience the true meaning of emptiness.” He lowers his voice, bending down to Jimin’s
ear. “Take care of Kookie for me, he’s gonna be sad that I won’t be there for his coming-of-age
party.”

“Like you even need to ask,” Jimin snorts. “I’m the best at taking care of him.”
Taehyung splutters because, um, excuse him. “Just because you’re the human equivalent of a
therapy animal doesn’t mean you—you—ugh! Well, he likes me more!”

Jimin throws his head back and laughs so hard he topples backwards off the chair. He fall on his
butt, slapping his hands against the floor. Jungkook races past them again in the opposite direction,
chanting about shirts this time. Yoongi, who’s apparently been camouflaged against the kitchen
island this whole time waiting for everyone else to finish packing, mutters something under his
breath involving the words “maknae line” and “too old for this” and “rock.” As if he doesn’t love
them to death and totally live for their antics, pfft.

They wait for him to amble off in response to Hoseok’s panicked shriek before Jimin leans in to
whisper, far too close for the cameras to catch. “You and Kook kinda back to normal?” he asks
shortly, obviously not wanting to drag the conversation out.

Taehyung shrugs, nods. They’ve gone back to being attached to the hip and Taehyung’s even
slowly beginning to ease their skinship back to what it was before, now that he doesn't feel like
crap every time they touch. The one line he draws is sleeping together, but Jungkook hasn’t
actively tried to change that anyway.

“You know the internet’s coined you guys Taekook. I was the first one who came up with it,
psshh. I demand royalties.”

Taehyung scoffs. “No, you came up with VKook. Taekook was my thing.”

“...Same difference!”

The following day passes so agonizingly slowly that Taehyung considers performing a demonic
ritual he saw on YouTube once to hopefully summon something that will teleport him straight to
the others. Except he doesn’t have any candles on him and there’s one more scene left for him to
film so that’d be irresponsible. Ugh, the pains of being an adult.

Jimin spams him with a million pictures all captioned similarly (“taking care of ur baby for you,”
“ur baby being sad u aint here cuz who else is he supposed to get his coming of age kiss from,” etc
etc). Taehyung laughs, glad that Jimin’s comfortable enough to joke around about him and
Jungkook now. He likes this a lot more than being sad and emo.

Jungkook texts him too often for someone who’s supposed to be enjoying a trip and getting filmed
doing it too. When Taehyung says as much, tells him to go play with the hyungs, Jungkook just
replies that it’s okay, he’s taking tons of pictures, and cuts down his texts by, like, five percent.

Taehyung gets right to sleep on the plane, even more eager to see Bergen now because it looks so
rustic and atmospheric from the pictures the members have sent him. When he lands and steps out
of the airport, the first thing he does, because they all live for the K-drama cliché, is inhale a big
gulp of Bergen air. i BREATHE, he texts the Bangtan group chat, amazed at how different the air
feels without all the fine dust in Korea.

His broken English helps him figure out how to take the bus into town. People swarm around him
in crowds, looking regal and badass dressed up for some parade that he doesn’t know anything
about. Bangtan’s worn outfits similar to the men’s in some of their performances, like the
nutcracker-looking uniforms, but it’s the ladies’ outfits that really catch his eye. They belong in TV
shows, maybe that famous western one called Game of Thrones or something.

The staff following him around are flustered when he wanders into a restaurant and pays with his
card instead of the small allocated allowance he’s supposed to use, but he’s so hungry at this point
that he doesn’t care. A bit of pouting and coaxing gets him what he wants and he grins in
satisfaction, saliva gathering in his mouth when the burger and fries are set in front of him.

“Hey, what house do you think I’d be sorted into if Harry Potter was a real thing?” he asks one of
their managers as he stuffs his face with food. The manager stares at him, confused by the segue.

“I have no idea, I never really got into Harry Potter,” he admits. Taehyung purses his lips. There
was this point in time where the members were obsessed with Harry Potter and Namjoon said once
that Taehyung would be a Hufflepuff, but Seokjin insisted he’d totally be a Slytherin. Taehyung
agrees, grinning to himself through a mouthful of the burger he technically coerced the staff into
letting him get. He’s pretty sure this is why he and Jimin get along so well. Jimin might act
squishy most of the time but they all know he’s the scariest one in the group, backed by
cunningness and a frightening temper.

There’s an amusement park on the way to meeting up with the others but Taehyung skips past it,
claiming disinterest when really he’s sort of, maybe, a tiny bit intimidated by the height of the
rides. He really doesn’t feel like riding any of those alone but if they get the chance later, he could
try it out with the others.

Apparently the members took a cable car nearby up the mountain, and there isn’t enough time for
him to join so he waits for them at the bottom. He channels his excitement into dancing
obnoxiously to songs he puts on speaker. The camera director’s lips pinch together as he tries to
keep from laughing, and encouraged, Taehyung practices his most obnoxious ugly faces.

It’s a very nice coincidence that the members happen to arrive when he’s slouched over the bench,
taking a break after his mini workout, so he catches the exact moment that Jungkook sees him. The
maknae’s eyes light up, visible even from this distance, and his face splits into a smile so enormous
one would think he hasn’t seen Taehyung in a good year instead of two days. Taehyung may or
may not die a little.

Jungkook hangs back as everyone greets him and Taehyung demonstrates what he was doing
during his wait, much to everyone’s mortification. Once the others float off to discuss their next
destination, Jungkook sidles up to him, his smile tamer now but no less warm, and strokes his hand
down the back of Taehyung’s neck.

“Hi, hyung,” he says quietly, a complete one-eighty from how he was exclaiming at Taehyung
earlier in front of everyone about how cool the mountain was.

Taehyung curls an arm around the younger’s shoulders, grinning back. “Hey. Happy coming-of-
age.”

“You already texted me that.”

“Yeah, but I gotta say it to your face too! What kinda person do you take me for?”

A laugh huffs out of Jungkook’s nose. “How was your flight?”

“Good, good. I watched a movie.”

“Was it the one with the apes?”

“...How’d you know?”

“You’re just that predictable.” Jungkook smiles crookedly.

As they join the others again, Jungkook moves away and starts mass taking pictures of the side of
Taehyung’s face like it’s his job. Having Director Jeon’s camera trained on him is almost a
comfort. He likes taking pictures and videos of Taehyung doing everything from practicing for a
performance to flailing around like a psycho to taking off his makeup, for some reason. He does do
it for everyone but his main muse appears to be Taehyung—and Taehyung adores photography for
the aesthetics, but he’s never quite figured out why Jungkook has this obsession with documenting
everything. He wonders if it means Jungkook’s afraid one day he won’t have any of this anymore,
and whether Taehyung is one of the things he’s most afraid to lose if Jungkook’s always recording
him.

Secretly, Taehyung also used to wonder if Jungkook looked over photos and videos of him with the
same longing that he himself did for Jungkook’s. But now he’s just happy seeing Jungkook happy
when he scrolls through the pictures he’s taken of Taehyung sleeping with his cheek squished
against a table. It doesn’t have to mean anything more as long as he can be a source of joy for
Jungkook.

They split up into seafood vs. meat groups for lunch and Jungkook doesn’t even try to be subtle,
blatantly asking Taehyung which group he’s going with before announcing, “Okay, then I’m
seafood too,” and shuffling to his side. They explore the town for the rest of the day after that,
goofing off and checking things out and Seokjin embarrasses them by repeatedly trying to speak
with the locals. He even asks someone, “Do you know BTS?” to which Taehyung and Jungkook
exchange a look before speed-walking away, ignoring the cries of their ‘oldest’ hyung.

When they get home in the evening, everyone’s pooped, sprawling over the couch and floor. Some
of them get busy writing songs, though only because something about how different Norway is
brings on the inspiration, and not because there’s the pressure to write. It’s the first time in a while
they’ve gotten to relax, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Taehyung loves it. He hasn’t felt so content in a while.

The next day, they wake up bright and early to pack and get on the ferry. The maknae line ends up
sitting together with Jungkook in the middle and Taehyung takes advantage, making a headrest out
of his shoulder. When Jungkook wins rock paper scissors for the last sandwich, the rest of them
groan as he punches his fist in the air victoriously and proceeds to wolf it down.

Taehyung leans over, opening his mouth. No one blinks an eye when Jungkook doesn’t hesitate for
a millisecond before offering him a bite even though he’s been complaining the whole morning
about how hungry he is. He isn’t even annoyed when Taehyung chomps off as much as he can fit
in his mouth, just takes what’s left of the sandwich and starts munching away, and Taehyung lets
himself preen on the inside. He’s sort of surprised the crew isn’t making a bigger effort to separate
them, considering they’re glued to the hip, even sleep curled up together on the ferry when they
aren’t out admiring the fjords. But maybe the staff are feeling sorry too and just want to let them
have fun like the kids they are.

They end up splitting ways anyway when he wanders off alone to check out the sheep. As a
country boy, he’s seen all sorts of animals so he isn’t expecting much, but these sheep are
surprisingly cute, white, fluffy, innocent. Kinda remind him of a certain someone, cough cough.
Where’s his therapist when he needs him? Good thing no one in BTS is a mindreader because
Taehyung would be dead ten times over from mortification by now.

After he’s done taking selfies with the sheep, he finds the others at the bike rental place. Again,
Jungkook absolutely glows when he sees him and Taehyung truly, he truly is enjoying this, but he
also really wants to ask why the world likes watching him suffer. Can he meet whoever’s in charge
of feelings, please? Cupid, was it Cupid? Come on, man, he just wants to talk, he swears.

Oblivious to Taehyung’s mini breakdown, Jungkook asks him for a ride on the back of his bike and
giggles as they circle the lot at a snail pace, his hands steadying his camera bag and feet dragging
on the ground. Taehyung thinks to himself that he would be willing to go to the gym for leg day if
it meant riding forevermore with Jungkook into the sunset.

Yeah, okay, thanks for nothing, Cupid.

It’s after dinner that Taehyung’s awkward angsty-playful mood drops to something more serious.
There’s this niggling feeling of wrongness, a minute tightening in his gut when he catches
Jungkook spacing out for the nth time that day, and all of a sudden he’s remembering the oddness
from a couple weeks ago that he’d thought was just his overactive imagination.

“Hey, Jungkookie.” He snaps his fingers in his face. Jungkook flinches, blinking at the iPad in his
hand like it’s the first time he’s seeing it even though he’s been holding it and staring hypnotized
for a good five minutes. The screen is black.

“Oh,” he says to himself. Then he looks up at Taehyung. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I wasn’t, but...what’re you thinking so hard about?”

Jungkook visibly tenses up, drawing straight against the couch. “Nothing. Just spacing out.”

Taehyung frowns. “You sure you’re good? If you’re tired, we can get Jiminie to help you with the
laundry or something.”

Jungkook cracks a smile at that. “What, are you too busy to help? Why’re you volunteering
Jiminie-hyung?”

“’Cause we both know he’d say yes in a heartbeat if you asked, and I’m in a lazy mood.”

“Wow, hyung,” Jungkook laughs. “Nah, I’m good. It’s mostly done anyway, I just have to go run a
batch through the dryer later.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

Taehyung starts walking off towards the hyungs who are grouped up in the kitchen debating the
best type of jjigae or something. When he glances over his shoulder, Jungkook is staring at nothing
again, iPad abandoned on the cushion beside him.

Earlier in the day, he disappeared for too long and Taehyung went looking for him only to find him
asleep, folded in on himself on a chair with his back to the world. Taehyung’s not sure why that
combined with what just happened sends alarms ringing through his head. Jungkook zones out all
the time when he’s bored or sleepy, although lately he’s seemed to be lost in thought rather than
either of those. Maybe it’s just that he’s tired, that would also explain why he’s been napping so
much. After all, other than these small things, he’s been running around determined to take perfect
pictures of the scenery, getting worked up about laundry and helping to cook, playing pranks,
generally acting normal and cheery. No one else seems to have noticed anything, so Taehyung
decides to brush it off.
He justifies to himself that his concern warrants giving into the natural instinct to stay close to
Jungkook. They’re together all throughout Stockholm, and he doesn’t miss the chance to sneak into
the spot next to Jungkook on the camping car in Finland either. His only regret is that they don’t
get to sleep together in the top bunk of the car that night, but with them being two of the bigger
members, it wouldn’t make sense for them to squeeze in together anyway. He takes revenge by
sitting next to Jungkook all day the next day and napping on his chest too.

At this point, he has no idea if it’s him or Jungkook wanting to be together, but he sure isn’t gonna
complain about how inseparable they are. Makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside if he thinks
about Jungkook liking being close to him.

They’re at the beach now, acting like freaks. Jungkook is whooping and running around like a
child, drawing random stuff in the sand. Taehyung walks up to him, studying the squiggly lines and
foot-sized happy faces.

“What’re these supposed to represent?” he teases, kicking some sand at Jungkook.

“They’re expressions of art, obviously!” Jungkook returns, kicking back at him harder. “Thought
you’d know that, Mr. Van Gogh!” Taehyung laughs loudly, high from the crisp, clean air, the
freedom of prancing around on a beach without anyone recognizing him, from seeing his big
family happy. The warm fuzziness builds and builds in his chest until it's unbearable. He traces out
a nice big heart with the tip of his shoe, and in one half of it, he writes “V.” In the other half,
“Jungkook.”

When the younger sees it, he stops and kind of just stares, sucking his lips in hard enough for a
dimple to appear in his right cheek.

Then Jimin comes over, a camera following him to pan over the sand heart. Taehyung’s smile
fades into something more nervous but his friend laughs delightedly, pointing giddily at the heart.

“V, Jungkook-ssi, love forever~” he trills. Taehyung bites back his grin.

“Why’re you so sexy?”

Taehyung jumps a little as soon as the words are out of his mouth, shocked that he voiced his
thoughts like that. Jungkook acts unfazed and for once, Taehyung can’t tell if he actually is or if
it’s a front. The minor blip isn’t anywhere near enough to put a damper on his mood though. He
can’t stop thinking about when they were sitting in the sauna and Jungkook kept putting his hand
on Taehyung’s knee, or how he’d inch his foot over to brush his toes against Taehyung’s bare shin.
His heart pounds just remembering it, and the sane part of him is yelling that he shouldn’t look too
deeply into it, shouldn’t even be enjoying it, but he can’t help himself.

In the jacuzzi tub, Jungkook paddles over right next to him like it really doesn’t bother him that
they’re both barely clothed and his bisexual bandmate unironically asked why he was so sexy.
They giggle at each other, splashing around, groaning at the members’ horrible jokes, cackling as
one by one they’re forced to go into the freezing lake.

The trip went by much too quickly. They begin the wrap-up with an emotional self- and group-
reflection session and even though Taehyung lowkey wants to drop into sad mode now that they
only have a day left, he also thinks there isn’t anything he would’ve changed about this trip. Every
moment was a gem. He falls asleep satisfied and grateful, thinking it can’t get any better.

Then he wakes up to Jungkook in his bed.

 It’s the weight of the younger’s arm draped across his chest that draws him out of his dreams.
Dazed from sleep still, Taehyung rolls over to face him. He blinks at that pretty, cherub-cheeked,
sleeping face, free of tension. Jungkook’s right arm is close enough for Taehyung to kiss, so he
does, and then drops his own arm over Jungkook’s middle, wiggling until they’re perfectly slotted
together.

Jungkook’s eyes open, his head lifting to look at Taehyung. If he were more awake, Taehyung
might wonder how long Jungkook feigned sleep for and why he did it, why he’d want to sleep
together face-to-face like this so intimately when they haven’t shared a bed in months. As it is, he
gets tugged back under by the call of sleep, physically and emotionally exhausted from the
previous day.

The next time he wakes, Jungkook is still on his bed, on his back now with a bit more distance
between them. More conscious this time, Taehyung taps him on the ribs.

“Hey, why’re you here?” he croaks, prodding him some more when there’s no response. “What are
you doing here?”

To his surprise, Jungkook’s head rises off the mattress and he peers at Taehyung, eyes too bright
for someone supposedly half-conscious, though he flops back down and continues to doze off after
that. Taehyung doesn’t understand why he’s trying to fake anything at all. They know each other
so well, Jungkook should be aware that Taehyung is very familiar with how he acts when he’s
actually asleep. Like a rock. Like a dead person. Utterly unresponsive.

“Jungkookie?” he whispers.

He gets a grunt in reply, followed by a raspy, “Sleep, Tae.”

His traitor of a heart speeds up at the nickname he hasn’t heard in a while, and that’s enough to get
him to lie back down, tracing over Jungkook’s features with his eyes, even though he knows the
camera is capturing their every move.

Chapter End Notes

ahhhh thanks so much for reading, lemme know ur thoughts!

the next chap will be out very soon cuz i originally wrote this and that one as 1 chap,
but it made more sense to cut it off here XD
 Chapter 8

Bangtan wistfully leaves behind the magic of Finland to hop on a flight back home, back to reality.

Once they land in Korea, Taehyung gives himself a day of rest before calling up his friends to see
when they can hang out. They’re in that period of the couple months between tours where their
schedule isn’t jam-packed, so as long as he plans things in advance, he has the leeway to slot his
friends into emptier days.

The Hwarang hyungs are ecstatic, spamming their KaTalk chat with ideas on where to go. Frankly,
Taehyung has zero idea what he’s done to make them adore him so much but he likes how loved
and taken care of he feels with them, and they’re cool and manly so it’s kind of a great learning
opportunity all around. They bounce ideas off of each other on how to keep their heads above the
water in this cut-throat industry, take him out for drinks and give him a bunch of tips about how to
build up his alcohol tolerance, because lord knows he could use help in that department. He strives
to be as awesome as them some day.

Jungkook greets him at the dorm entrance when he fumbles his keys too many times, making a
racket with the clanging and the way he keeps bumping into the door. The younger’s mouth is
foaming with toothpaste, his toothbrush in one hand.

“Hyung, how much did you drink?” he garbles. In the few seconds it takes Taehyung to stumble
inside, Jungkook’s disappeared and reappeared, apparently having rinsed out his mouth. He bends
down to help Taehyung unlace his boots and pull them off. Then he stands, grabs him around the
middle, and picks him up, walking towards the room of three.

“Oh god,” Taehyung slurs. “Too high—dizzy.” Jungkook stabilizes him with his other arm and
walks a little slower.

“You’re not gonna throw up, are you?”

He takes a quick inventory of his organs. His head is woozy the way it gets when he’s tipsy, but
not to the point where his thoughts aren’t clear or that he’ll hurl everywhere. “Naw.”

“Good. If you do, I’m dropping you.”

Jungkook nudges the door open and lowers him to a seat on his bed. Taehyung collapses on it the
rest of the way with a satisfied groan.

“Oh man, did our Taehyungie drink too much?” Hoseok coos from his own bed, taking off his
earphones and crawling closer. “You’re probably gonna have a hangover tomorrow.”

“I should be good,” Taehyung mumbles, burying his face in his pillow. “Just needa drink water.”

Jungkook heaves a great big sigh of put-on disappointment. “I’ll get you some.”

After he’s back and Taehyung’s gulped down the entire glass, he asks, “So what’d you do with
your Hwarang hyungs?”

The way he says the last two words sounds sarcastic but Taehyung doesn’t even care, eager to tell
him everything they talked about. “And Hyungsik-hyung was like, oh man, what should he do,
he’s gonna be filming kiss scenes and errthing even though he’s lowkey in love with her and then
he started going on about the morality of falling in love with your fellow lead or something and
Seojoon-hyung was like that’s stupid, what’s wrong with falling in love, a—” Taehyung pauses to
take a breath, “anyway, it was so totally fun, soooo fun, I really wanted to go karaoke but Minho-
hyung and Hyungsik-hyung both had to leave early so they promised we’d go next time—” he
hiccups, “gotta sing ‘Bang Bang Bang’ with ‘em, yanno, gotta—it’s a classic, right Kookie?
Jungkookie? Right? Hey, do you mind getting me some more water?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and gets up to grab another glass. When he returns, he makes himself
comfortable on the floor, chin propped on the bed, and listens to Taehyung ramble until he falls
asleep.

“How’s the head?”

Taehyung turns around so slowly that by the time he’s facing Jungkook, the latter’s fixed himself a
bowl of cereal and in the process of shoveling it in his mouth.

“Not bad,” he replies, a near unintelligible mumble. Any kind of movement right now is bad news,
including enunciating like a normal human being. “Just nauseous.”

“Told you you should’ve taken the meds.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. He gets up to go rifle
around the cabinets, and when Taehyung’s finally turned enough to have his eyes on him again
(why does he have to move around so much, god, is letting Taehyung admire him in his hoodie and
sweatpants so much to ask for?), he’s setting down a pill and glass of water.

“Thanks.” He gulps down the anti-emetic with a relieved sigh, comforted by the warm water
washing down his throat and settling in his stomach. “I feel better already.”

“Your Hwarang hyungs shouldn’t have let you drink so much.”

Taehyung laughs, then winces at how it makes his temples pulse. “I barely had any, Jungkookie,
you know my tolerance sucks.”

Jungkook harrumphs and tilts the last of his sugary milk into his mouth. Taehyung grins at him.

“You know, I’ve been noticing something interesting lately,” he says, flicking his bangs out of his
eyes.

“What?”

“You’re becoming such a mom. I feel like it’s sorta Jin-hyung’s fault. Like mother like daughter, or
whatever.”

Jungkook gives him an incredulous look as he packs up the box of cereal. “What’re you talking
about?”

Taehyung shrugs. “You’re kind of...good at taking care of people nowadays. Jiminie used to
always call you my baby but now he says we’re each other’s babies.”

“That’s not because I’m a mom, it’s because I’m a man.”

If he’d said those same words while the others around in his usual prideful tone, Taehyung
would’ve laughed his ass off. But they’re alone right now, and Jungkook said it like a fact. Like
something Taehyung should know.

Taehyung’s snark dies in his throat. In its place, his heart makes itself known, thumping loudly,
once, twice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen when the implications of what he’s said sink in, and they fidget in the
resulting awkward silence. Taehyung dances his fingers over the table to shake himself out of the
odd tension.

“True that.” He lets out a dry laugh. “You know, I’m feeling a lot less nauseous already! I have no
idea what you gave me but it worked wonders, haha.”

Jungkook nods stiffly, picking up his used bowl and walking over to the sink to rinse it off. “That’s
good,” he says belatedly.

“Yeah.” Taehyung clears his throat. “Good timing too ‘cause I should be getting ready to head out
in, like, an hour anyway. So I’ll just. Yeah.” He pushes himself off the high stool, wincing a little
when he’s on his feet again. It’s true that he isn’t reeling anymore but if he moves too fast, his
stomach still gives an uncomfortable jump.

“Oh, where are you going?”

“I’m gonna hang out with Bogumie-hyung and then we’ll probably get dinner. I might be back late
again today so if the others ask, pass on the message, ‘kay?”

He shuffles his way out of the kitchen, calculating how much time there is for a refresher nap
before he needs to get ready, but Jungkook’s voice, verging on shrill, stops him. “Wait, hyung.”

He looks over his shoulder and finds the other staring at him, something in his dark eyes that has
Taehyung shifting to fully face him. “Yeah?”

“Um.” Jungkook bites his lip. “What—what time will you be back?”

Taehyung blinks at him several times, more than a bit confused. “Mm, not sure. I think we might
be watching a movie after dinner.”

“D-Don’t be too late,” Jungkook rushes out. Taehyung has to take a second to understand what he
said.

“Jungkookie, is something the matter? What—”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong. I-I was—” He gestures vaguely at Taehyung, and then draws his hand
back to himself, running through his hair. “You shouldn’t be out too late after a hangover.”

For the umpteenth time, Taehyung is thrown back to Bon Voyage, before it, even, that inkling of
an awareness that Jungkook’s been acting weird. He’s tempted to interrogate him, dig whatever
this is out once and for all, but the need to lie down is really starting to hit him and he’s running out
of time to recharge before he has to leave. Whatever talk this needs to be seems to warrant his full
attention and peak mental state anyway. He considers delaying his meeting with Bogum by an
hour, but that would push the whole thing back and end up with him coming home later and for
some reason, Jungkook would clearly be opposed to that.

“Got it,” he agrees. “I’ll be back before midnight.”

Jungkook exhales, his shoulders dropping. “Okay. I’ll—see you later then.”

“Yeah.”
Taehyung drifts back towards his room, his head spinning now for more than one reason.

“What’s up?”

The question is loaded enough for Taehyung to understand that Bogum isn’t simply asking how
life is going for him these days. He smiles sheepishly.

“Nothing, sorry. Didn’t mean to zone out there.”

Bogum waves a dismissive hand, grinning. They’re standing sort of close and now that Taehyung’s
taking a better look, something about his smile reminds him of Jungkook’s. It’s missing that extra
oomph factor without the teeth and pouty upper lip, but still cute and innocent in a way that makes
him appear a lot younger.

“Taehyung-ah, something’s obviously on your mind. We can talk about it if you want, or I can
keep kicking your butt at foosball. Your choice, I’m not picky.”

“You’re literally one point ahead of me, hyung!” Taehyung walks back to his end of the table,
dropping the ball in the center again. He keeps his focus on the game so his next words come out
haltingly. “Jungkookie’s acting kinda funny lately, that’s all. I think he’s worried about
something.”

Bogum’s thoughtful hum is cut off when he accidentally spins his rod too hard and nearly brains
himself with his own hand. “Ow!”

“Oh god, are you okay?” Taehyung wheezes, trying his best not to laugh. He loses the battle when
Bogum starts sulking.

“How dare you laugh at me. Just you wait.” He goes back to the game with laser focus and
Taehyung has no choice but to follow his example. He might not be as sore a loser as Jungkook but
that doesn’t mean he isn’t competitive as hell.

Half an hour later, they sprawl over a couch, Bogum worn out from the adrenaline and Taehyung
teasing him about being too ancient to keep up. “Have you guys been really busy lately?” the older
asks after they’ve ordered iced tea and some snacks. The arcade they’re at is one Taehyung’s been
to before, and at first he worried his choice of location might be too childish for Bogum, but
they’ve been having a grand time so far.

He thinks back to another arcade that was all flashing neon lights and excited screaming. His
stuffed lion is tucked safely into the corner of his bed, hidden by a pillow. Out of sight because he
doesn’t want to have to field any questions if someone sees it, close enough to both comfort and
punish. He should really take one of those online tests or something and see if he actually is a
masochist, what the hell.

Yeah, that arcade day was a different kind of fun. Then again, everything with Jungkook is
different.

“No,” Taehyung answers, pulling himself out of his memories. “We’re actually pretty free.”

“Hmm...what else could be bothering Jungkook-ssi?”

“I don’t know.” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “I think it has to do with me but nothing’s
coming to mind.”
Bogum pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ve never been in a band before, obviously, but
these things are bound to happen when you’ve lived with each other for so long. Ups and downs to
everything, as they say.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says mildly. He doesn’t want to think they’re having a ‘down’ period though.
He’s never had downs with Jungkook before other than that one obvious incident, which wasn’t a
result of them having conflict or drifting apart anyway. He’s not willing to let either of those things
happen to them. “It’s okay, I’ll talk to him another day.”

“Good idea.” Bogum curls an arm around his shoulders. “Wanna go get dinner now? Anything
you’re craving?”

“Hmmm...burgers.”

“Didn’t you just have a bunch of western food in Switzerland? How was that, by the way?”

“There’s something about burgers I can’t get enough of, hyung. They’re amazing. And our trip was
amazing too, I’ll show you the photos I took later.”

“Nice! Looking forward to it.”

After a humongous, juicy burger that makes a wave of nostalgia for Europe and its clean,
refreshing air crash over him, they make their way towards a smaller movie theater in Hongdae,
chatting about the random things Bogum got up to while BTS was away. Apparently he’s been
working on a few songs. Now that he’s gaining so much recognition for his drama roles, his
agency’s giving him more opportunities to dabble in music as well and Taehyung is happy for him,
thrilled to see him light up and act out the entire chorus of his newest composition. When Bogum
shows him a snippet on his phone, Taehyung marvels at his talent. How can someone be so good-
looking and great at acting and singing too? Life just isn’t fair sometimes.

He insists on buying their popcorn and drinks since Bogum paid for dinner, and finds a couple
seats near the back row, plopping down with a satisfied groan as he waits for his hyung to come
back from the washroom. A handful of popcorn steadily disappears into his mouth while he
watches the commercials play.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He licks his buttery fingers clean and plucks it out of his pocket,
then immediately regrets it when he sees Jimin’s text.

having fun with the hottie? ;)))

oh my god for the last time , Taehyung texts back, stop being a creep

Jiminie: where u guys at?

You: movie theatre

Jiminie: ;))))))))))))))

Taehyung spams a couple angry and barfing emoticons before resolutely deciding to ignore him for
the rest of the day. Earlier, back at the dorm when he was getting ready to head out, Jimin found
him digging in his closet and decided it was the perfect opportunity to lounge about on his bed,
making very inappropriate comments about how Taehyung should choose clothes that are easy to
take off. All this prompted by the information that they were going to dinner and a movie.

“That’s, like, the standard date plan,” Jimin said smugly. “Are you finally ready to get some?”
Taehyung threw a pillow at him and pointedly put on the frumpiest clothes he could find that didn’t
make him look like a hobo. Jimin only cackled. “Oh, I get it. If you can’t handle me at my worst
then you don’t deserve me at my best, huh? Smart, Taehyungie. Get him used to normal you so that
when you show up on the third date in skintight jeans with your eyebrows out, he’ll cream
himself.”

“Oh my fucking god, Park Jimin,” Taehyung hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth. “If someone
hears you, they’re actually gonna think I’m trying to get into Bogumie-hyung’s pants, what the
hell! I’m revoking your soulmate status.”

Jimin gasped so loudly under his hand that he chokes a little. “You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me.” And with a meaningful glare, Taehyung made his escape.

Thinking back on it now, it’s sort of funny. Just the teensiest bit. Like, on a molecular level, though
still far outweighed by the intensity of the heebie-jeebies he gets from imagining anything even
close to what Jimin’s been shamelessly painting pictures of.

Bogum sits down next to him, making him jump. “What’re you being all smiley about?” he teases
Taehyung, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Oh god, um—nothing, nothing at all. I am so sorry, Bogumie-hyung.”

“Hm? Why?”

“Uh, no reason, I was—I mean, I should’ve gotten more popcorn haha, ha!”

“No, I think we’re good? Isn’t this the jumbo bag?”

“Y-Yeah, I—yeah! Okay, cool! Let me know if you want more.”

“Sure, thanks. Oh, the movie’s starting! Shhh.”

Taehyung mimes zipping his mouth shut, grimacing to himself.

This time, when Taehyung gets home, he’s not the drunk one. He’s tiptoeing his way to the
washroom, eager to get clean and roll into bed, when a crash from the other side of the dorm
makes him leap a foot in the air. He feels about for the hallway light switch, flicking it on and
curiously heading towards the direction of the noise.

Jungkook is sprawled across the dining table, two glasses and several empty soju bottles around
him.

Taehyung gapes for a bit. That’s a lot of bottles. But if there are two glasses, at least it means he
didn't drink it all on his own.

“Jungkookie,” he says, forgetting to whisper in his surprise. “Are you okay?”

It takes five full seconds for Jungkook to swivel his head to look at him. Taehyung’s already going
through every possibility for why the younger might’ve ended up like this and appraising how he’s
going to transport the guy to his bed without spraining something.

“Hyung,” Jungkook slurs when he finally sees him, eyes half-lidded but bright. Maybe he’s not as
drunk as Taehyung originally thought. “Tae. Tae, you’re back.”
He gulps. “I—yeah. I promised I wouldn’t be too late, right?”

Jungkook’s face melts into the softest, warmest smile, his nose scrunching up. “Yeah. Tae keeps
his promises. Yeah.”

“Uh huh.” Taehyung hurries over to sit in the chair next to him, pushing his hair from his face,
needing to assess how red he is, how gone he might be. “Why’d you drink so much, Jungkook-ah,
hmm? You usually don’t.”

Jungkook nuzzles against his hands, his lips parting in bliss. “Felt bad, Tae. So bad.”

“What?” Taehyung is instantly on full alert for both the fact that Jungkook was feeling shitty about
something and that he’s admitting it. This isn't like him at all and Taehyung is only getting more
worried. He's starting to regret leaving when he knew Jungkook was acting off.

“Why?” he asks gently. “What's bothering you?”

But his question goes unanswered as the other man only shakes his head, sighing. “Nothing. I’m
good now.”

“Jungkoo—”

“Tae.” Jungkook fists the collar of Taehyung’s hoodie with shocking strength, flushing the breath
out of his lungs when he pulls him down so both of their cheeks are pressed to the table. His
eyelashes flutter as his gaze roams over Taehyung’s face.

Taehyung’s heart is beating so fast it almost hurts. He hasn’t been this close to Jungkook in a long
time, a scant two inches between their faces, Jungkook’s breaths warm against his mouth. It’s
bringing back unwanted memories and a desperation that he thought he gave up on weeks ago.

But he should’ve known better, really, than to think he was over this.

Jungkook brings his arm up with what looks like considerable effort, and his palm lands on
Taehyung’s cheek with enough force to sting. It stays there, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone.

“Tae,” Jungkook mumbles again, like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

His lips are pink. His cheeks are pink. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed and swollen from the
alcohol and his breath smells like the bitterness that Taehyung hates about soju.

“Jungkookie,” he breathes, feeling like he’s in an alternate universe. None of this is real. None of it
makes sense.

For a moment, he deludes himself into thinking that maybe in this world, he can hope.

He can want. He can be wanted back.

He reaches up to cup Jungkook’s jaw, and because he’s weak, so, so weak, he brushes his thumb
over the corner of his mouth. Right on the spot he’s kissed before, that one single time, relived a
thousand times over.

He doesn’t realize Jungkook is inching towards him until he notices the maknae’s hawk-like focus
on his lips. And then suddenly they’re close enough for Taehyung to go cross-eyed, a blur of beige
and pink in between his stunned blinks. The memories come slamming back into him, Jungkook
shoving him away, his face twisted.
Before Taehyung can tear himself out of this, run so he can’t get hurt again, Jungkook kisses him.

Taehyung’s eyes pop wide open. He gasps into Jungkook’s lips.

Another short, sweet kiss is pressed against his mouth, then another, and he feels the strength
trickle back into his limbs. Desperation replaces the shock. He picks himself off the table, pulling
Jungkook up with him with hands covering his cheeks. He angles their heads, fitting their mouths
together, kissing Jungkook like he’s wanted to for so long. For years.

Jungkook makes a high, breathy sound. Their lips melt against each other’s, soft and pliant. Arms
come up around Taehyung’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

They cling to one another, wrapped up in each other’s embrace as they kiss in the dim light,
surrounded by a sea of empty soju bottles.

Taehyung wakes up in Jimin’s bed.

Unlike his usual process of needing a good coaxing, smacking, and getting his comforter ripped
away to fully wake, this time he snaps to sharp awareness in the span of a second.

He’d like to think that last night was a dream, and yet he’d also hate if it were. But he knows it all
really happened so now he’s just staring at the ceiling, unsure how he should be feeling.

He lies there for an hour, maybe two, before Jimin stirs beside him. His friend briefly woke when
Taehyung burrowed in beside him in the wee hours of the morning but he doesn’t seem to
remember now, squinting at him. Confusion, suspicion, concern flicker over his face.

“Taetae?” he croaks. “You okay?”

Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Did something happen?”

He hesitates. Admittedly, a large part of him doesn’t want to talk about it because he isn’t sure he’s
ready for a second opinion yet, and he’s starting to discover that he doesn’t particularly like
sharing moments between him and Jungkook with other people.

But he promised Jimin he’d be honest about important things from now on. And it wouldn’t hurt to
vent a bit.

“Jungkook kissed me last night,” he confesses. “He was drunk, though. And he looked really tired
so I stopped and took him to his room. Then I came here.”

Jimin doesn’t move for a long, long moment, his face blank.

“Yup,” Taehyung says, popping the ‘p’. He sort of thinks he should be running around like a
chicken with its head cut off right now but he’s strangely calm. It’s the calm before the storm,
though, he knows. That or he’s right in the eye of it. Whoop dee doo.

“Oh, shit,” Jimin finally says.

“Uh huh.”

“Do you...do you think he’ll remember?”

“Dunno.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Dunno.”

Jimin nods sympathetically and they kind of just lie there, watching each other but not really
because Jimin’s mind is obviously going into overdrive and Taehyung’s is a blank canvas. Jimin
looks like he’s doing his best not to flip into mother hen mode because he knows Taehyung
wouldn’t appreciate it at this point. Not yet, anyway. Maybe, like, after breakfast when he finds
Jungkook puking his guts out into the toilet with zero recollection of the previous night.

Well shit, now that he puts it like that, it sounds entirely too possible. He should probably cash in
on the comfort session in advance.

Sadly, his aching bladder interrupts what could’ve been a nice, peaceful morning of cuddles and
ice cream in bed, the strawberry cheesecake flavour Seokjin randomly picked up the other day to
satisfy a craving.

“Gonna go piss,” Taehyung sighs, and Jimin nods. Just as well, he thinks. His soulmate seems like
he’s gonna need another minute to come back to the real world.

He slides out of bed and legs it to the bathroom. The plan is to head straight back to his bedroom
after he’s done his business, but a plate of already cut fruit sitting on the kitchen counter catches
his eye. Someone must’ve woken up early today. Judging by the shape of the apple slices,
Taehyung guesses it’s Yoongi.

He toasts some bread and eats it bare without jam or anything because he’s too lazy, then sets
about polishing off his portion of the fruit. Some apple peel gets stuck between two of his back
teeth and he pries at it with his tongue, annoyed.

Right as he exclaims, “Ha!” in triumph after extracting the stupid thing, Jungkook walks in.

They freeze.

Taehyung drops his fork. It falls to the tiled floor with a deafening clang.

Jungkook doesn’t even look at it, staring at him like Taehyung’s just confessed to murdering all of
their families.

Taehyung swallows, rubbing his hands over his worn pyjama pants. The silence is tangible but
strangely enough, it’s a comfort. He feels like he can hide behind it, hide his shaky hands and rigid
face and overflowing feelings, the stupid things. He bends down to pick up the fork, then slips off
his stool to wash it in the sink. Normally he’d probably leave it there for some other poor soul to
clean. Today, he washes it.

From behind him, barely audible over the sound of the water, Jungkook asks, “Are you ignoring
me?” He’s trying to sound incredulous, mocking, even, but Taehyung knows him too well for that
and hears the hurt in his small voice. He immediately throws down the fork, all thoughts of hiding
evaporating as he whirls around.

“No!” he shouts, hands up in surrender. “No, sorry, I’m not!”

Jungkook isn’t looking at him anymore, frown to the side. His face is clean, water dripping off the
ends of his bangs and he really doesn’t look dead at all considering the state he was in last night.
Unable to stand the suspense for one more second, Taehyung rushes out, “Do you remember what
happened? Yesterday?”

Jungkook nods once.

Taehyung swallows. That sets down the stone in his heart, only to replace it with a bigger one.

“Come here,” he says.

Jungkook hesitates, but another soft call of his name has him approaching, his footfalls silent. He
stops an arm’s length away, fidgeting, toes curling and stretching repeatedly over the kitchen floor.
He’s acting like he’s done something wrong and has come prepared for a scolding and Taehyung
just doesn’t get it, he’s so tired of not getting it.

He sucks in a deep breath, wondering which of the dozens of questions he should begin with.
Jungkook twitches at the sound as if he’s afraid, and Taehyung can’t—he can’t do this anymore.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

Jungkook’s head whips up, his mouth falling open. He stares at Taehyung, dissecting his
expression, and Taehyung gives him the freedom to do it, hoping against hope that whatever
Jungkook sees will give him the courage he seems to need.

He waits, heart in his throat.

Almost imperceptibly, Jungkook tips his head.

His heart throbbing in his throat, Taehyung steps forward. He reaches out for him, taking the
younger’s precious face in his hands, and leans in bit by bit, giving Jungkook the chance to change
his mind.

He doesn’t, and Taehyung makes sure of this, watching until the last possible second before his
eyes shut and their lips touch.

The kiss is chaste, a soft meeting of their mouths, but it sends electricity racing up his spine and
down to his toes. Jungkook grabs a hold of him, arms wrapping around his neck tightly, and
presses into his mouth with a pained gasp.

Colours explode behind Taehyung’s eyelids. His heart feels like a grenade waiting to go off. He
makes a desperate sound in the back of his throat, hugging Jungkook close to press them chest to
chest, hip to hip. Their lips come together again and again like they can’t bear to be apart, and it’s a
little clumsy with inexperience but Taehyung can’t give a single shit.

He’s got Jungkook in his arms, warm, his body firm but soft. And they’re kissing, really kissing,
Taehyung can taste the toothpaste on his lips, their breaths loud between them.

There’s no way he’s letting go now. It’ll take an apocalypse to make him let go any time soon.
 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Midnight in Paris is a movie that sparked something new in Taehyung the first time he watched it.
Or maybe it awakened whatever was there the whole time, he doesn’t know, but either way, he was
smitten the very first time he watched it. He adored how the movie combined so many of the
things he loved: jazz, philosophy, art. He was obsessed with the mood of it, whimsical but
passionate, vintage but modern, the distinct tug-of-war between reality and dreams—made him
ponder about the things you could hope for but knew you couldn’t have until you realized that
what was holding you back was only a mindset. Like, society as a whole or something. And maybe
that sounds easier to fight against than a physical opponent, but Taehyung knows this isn’t true.

But he digresses. Point is, he loves Paris because of the movie, is a little bit in love with Rachel
McAdams because of it, and he’s really glad that thanks to BTS, he gets a chance to come to this
country that used to seem so far away. They don’t have much time to explore, but at least KCON
this year is partly outdoors so he does sort of get to fulfill his dreams of walking on the Parisian
streets (and he’s totally gonna drag the others out with him later because if he doesn’t go shopping
while he’s in Paris then what kind of fashionista does that make him?).

Before they start the mini concert, the staff suggest they get on V-live for a bit, say hello to
ARMYs since they have some time.

“Taehyung-ah, you’re done getting ready, right?” Jimin asks, falling into a chair on the less messy
side of the changing room. “Wanna do it with me?”

“Sure.”

They hunker down together and Jimin starts messing with the phone and selfie stick, trying to
figure out how to work the thing. After years of doing this, you’d think they’d have it down pat,
but it’s like every time there’s an app update or technical issue they’re back to square one.
Taehyung doesn’t even bother trying, sits back with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

He hears muffled talking from outside, getting louder until Jungkook wanders into the far end of
the room. He floats over to where Namjoon, Seokjin, and Hoseok are getting their hair and makeup
done and recites “merci beaucoup” individually at each of them, waggling his eyebrows.
Tragically, they don’t pay him much attention except for Hoseok who humors him with a “je
t’aime!” and Seokjin who half-heartedly tries to trip him. Jungkook huffs at their perfunctory
responses.

Then he turns and catches sight of Taehyung across the room.

He goes quiet, his smile fading. His eyes take on a hazy quality, making something stir in the pit of
Taehyung’s stomach.

“What are you guys doing?” Jungkook asks, drifting closer, directing the question to the both of
them even though he doesn’t look away from Taehyung. Taehyung can’t think of a reason to avert
his gaze, eyes tracing down Jungkook’s white dress shirt and blue jeans, similar to his own outfit
except he’s got on black slacks and a matching black tie. Jungkook hasn’t had his makeup done
yet, looking baby-faced and innocent with his wavy, fluffy hair.

“V-live,” Jimin answers, clicking his tongue when something goes wrong. “What is up with this
phone, god, why does it keep exiting outta the app—”

Jungkook doesn’t appear to hear him, stopping in front of Taehyung He’s close enough between
the elder’s spread legs that Taehyung’s heart speeds up. For a moment, he thinks Jungkook is going
to do something in this very public place in front of all their hyungs, but he only reaches over to
card his fingers through Taehyung’s hair.

And even though the touch isn’t gentle or rough, nothing particularly note-worthy about it, the way
Jungkook is staring at him makes goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

Taehyung grabs his wrist and surges to his feet. “I’ll be back in a few,” he tells Jimin, who grunts
at him distractedly.

He drags Jungkook out of the room, keeping his hand around his wrist as he strides down the
hallway, sparing a smile for the staff they pass by and discreetly checking rooms that look like
they might be empty. Jungkook is silent behind him but follows Taehyung’s hurried pace without
trouble.

Eventually, he finds a storage room of sorts. After a glance to make sure no one’s around, he tugs
Jungkook inside with him, turns the lock, and backs the younger against the door.

Jungkook’s eyes are like beacons. He reaches behind himself for the light switch, but Taehyung
stops him with a hand on his.

“Don’t.” He nods towards the window that looks into the hallway. It’s mostly boarded up so no
one will be able to see anything from outside, and the slits of light coming between the pieces of
wood are just about enough for him to make out Jungkook’s features.

“But I wanna...” Jungkook cuts himself off, hands coming up to rest on Taehyung’s shoulders, and
Taehyung knows he’s pouting even if he can’t see too clearly.

He kisses Jungkook under the ear, hiding his embarrassed but pleased smile against his skin. “You
stared enough earlier,” he whispers.

Surprisingly, Jungkook doesn’t retort with a snappy comment or quick denial. But Taehyung hears
him swallow, and his smile grows.

“Do you like when I’m dressed like this?” he asks, his lips touching Jungkook’s earlobe, brushing
over his hoops.

“You’re handsome, hyung,” Jungkook breathes, almost like he’s talking to himself. Shockingly
straightforward. Hot palms move from Taehyung’s shoulders, dragging down his chest, and
Jungkook strokes his long, black tie with one hand, gentle but suggestive. “You look so good in
formal wear.”

There’s some strange mixture of timidness and hunger swirling inside Taehyung. Jungkook’s
always been loud with his compliments for him and the rest of the members, but what’s ironic is
that the quieter he gets, like this is a secret between them, the harder the compliments hit. It makes
heat snake up the nape of his neck, and when Jungkook reaches up to touch Taehyung’s hair,
brushing his long bangs away from his eyes, his hunger wins out.
He tightens his arms around Jungkook’s slim waist until their bodies are flush. He pecks him on
the mouth, just once, sweet but slow. Jungkook watches him pull away, staring at Taehyung’s lips
from under his lashes, before leaning in and kissing him back, equally chaste.

Taehyung doesn’t let their mouths separate between each small kiss, the sound of their lips meeting
and parting quiet enough to stay between them. Jungkook’s are chapped, a bit scratchy with the
way he bites at them all the time but the set of his mouth is soft and relaxed, cushioning
Taehyung’s gentle kisses.

A little hysterically, Taehyung thinks that Jungkook’s mouth was made for this. Made for him,
maybe. God, how self-absorbed can he get? He squeezes the boy even closer, one of his legs
accidentally slotting between Jungkook’s just because there’s nowhere else for it to go, but he
immediately steps back when he notices, not wanting to go too far. He’s still unsure what exactly
this thing between them is supposed to be.

A couple days ago on the morning after that drunken night, he asked Jungkook why he pushed him
away the first time. With a confused head tilt, Jungkook told him, “Because of Bangtan. The
hyungs.” And Taehyung understood, didn’t need to ask for elaboration. Nothing mattered anymore
anyway, he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else when Jungkook came looking for
him with eyes trained on his mouth like everything else around him didn't exist. It’s more than
Taehyung could’ve ever hoped for. Every free moment they’ve had, they’ve been tugging each
other to private spots where they can kiss, hands carefully left on shoulders or waists, lips meeting
shyly.

Needless to say, Taehyung feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. You know those assholes who
strut around like peacocks, bragging after getting laid? Yeah, as much as he hates it, he identifies
with that now. And, like, sex is nowhere near what they’re doing but it sure has hell doesn’t change
the fact that he wants to go around telling everyone, “Hey, guess what? I’ve kissed Jeon Jungkook.
Yup, that’s right, golden maknae, prodigal all-rounder, secret sweetheart. I’ve kissed him and you
haven’t and it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. Ha.”

Since poor Jimin was dealing with their shit this whole time, Taehyung gratefully and smugly
informed him of the development, and his friend screeched loudly enough that Seokjin and
Namjoon peeked into their room to make sure no one accidentally shaved their heads or set
something on fire.

“Guess the Bogum dick wasn’t enough for you,” Jimin leered after pulling himself together from a
squealing, gushing mess. Taehyung shoved him straight on to the floor and yelled at him.

Back in the present, Jungkook solves Taehyung’s problem of wanting to get as close as physically
possible by stepping right into the space between Taehyung’s feet. He pulls Taehyung in with arms
curled snugly around his middle and kisses him again. Taehyung sighs, tempted to move on from
their innocent closed-mouth kisses, when he suddenly hears Jimin’s voice.

“Taehyung-ah!” he calls from somewhere further down the hall. He and Jungkook flinch away
from each other. “Taehyung-ah, get back here! I’m starting the live in one minute!”

“Shit,” he mutters. He can feel Jungkook’s wry giggle through his chest.

“As expected of Jiminie-hyung. Worst timing ever.”

“I know, right.” Taehyung leans in to leave a last lingering kiss on Jungkook’s mouth. He keeps his
eyes open, watching Jungkook’s plump lower lip bounce when they finally pull away from each
other, and Jungkook stares at his mouth in return. Taehyung licks his teeth, frustrated.
Jungkook laughs and pats his shoulder placatingly like he’s unaffected, though the flush on his
face doesn’t escape Taehyung’s notice.

“Lesgo. I gotta get my makeup done anyway.”

Taehyung huffs, letting his full weight fall on Jungkook. “Don't wanna.” Unfazed, the younger
turns him around by the shoulders and starts pushing him towards the door, Taehyung’s legs stuck
out at an angle, back to Jungkook’s chest, his shoes dragging against the linoleum floors with the
occasional squeak. They peek outside, confirm that no one’s around, and Jungkook walks them
back into the changing room like that with Taehyung propped up against his hands.

“What are you guys even doing,” Jimin laughs, smiling knowingly. “C’mere, Taehyung, we need
to start soon.”

“Okay, okay.”

The good thing about getting to kiss Jungkook (other than, you know, kissing him, because nothing
tops that and Taehyung will literally fight anyone who disagrees) is that they can finally, truly go
back to normal.

Wait, never mind, that’s a lie. So what he means by normal is that now they can act the way they
want to, just like from before everything went to shit. Taehyung was doing a pretty bomb job of
pretending nothing changed after Jungkook pushed him away, but every time he reached out for the
younger, he had to make an effort to push past his own hesitation and doubt. Never wanting to
make Jungkook uncomfortable, afraid to cross a line. That Twitter video of him spanking
Jungkook’s butt with a folder? Before, he would’ve done it with his hand. And other people might
not have noticed but there were all these things, the little concessions and extra considerations
behind each action, weighing in his mind.

But now they’re back to being touchy-feely and this time, none of it is forced for the semblance of
normality. The difference is that these days, when Taehyung pauses to reconsider before pulling
Jungkook on to his lap, it’s because touching him makes heat surge up his fingertips and detonate
in his chest. His feelings haven’t changed—it’s the knowledge that to some degree, Jungkook
reciprocates, and this makes the touches so much more meaningful. Now, when he pokes Jungkook
thirty times in a row, it’s more than just a way to annoy him or get his attention. There’s a fluttery
feeling in his stomach as he anticipates how Jungkook will retaliate, whether his response will
involve something that will put Taehyung’s head in the clouds for the rest of the day.

“Ah, hyung, stop it already!” Jungkook snaps, pushing away the hands that have been relentlessly
tapping his shoulders and poking his back for a solid two minutes. Taehyung was readying to move
on to his ticklish ribs and Jungkook must have sensed it, smacking at him before he could start.
The maknae’s arranged his face into something stern, almost mad, but the corners of his mouth are
too flat for it to be genuine. The expression sends Taehyung back to a few days ago when they
were recording for Festa 2016, where he watched Jungkook stare at his ass as Seokjin spanked
Taehyung for his punishment.

Although that day, Jungkook looked comparably madder. (And maybe a tiny bit turned on, but that
might just be Taehyung projecting.)

“Aww, but you’re so fun to tease, Jungkookie,” he coos, pinching those squishy cheeks, and
Jungkook gives him a woeful look before pulling away. He points at the snack wrappers piled
haphazardly all over the living room table. Taehyung’s been working through them ever since he
raided the kitchen in search of stuff to munch on for his movie. Which he never started because he
found Jungkook sitting on the couch with his phone and decided some bonding time was in order,
never mind the fact that they haven’t been out of each other’s sight for more than a few hours these
past two days.

“You’d better clean those up later,” Jungkook whines, gesturing at the wrappers, and Taehyung
can’t tell if he’s trying to distract him or actually annoyed.

“Later,” he promises, endeared by his cute little clean freak. “Don’t wanna move now.”

Jungkook huffs, going back to his phone. Taehyung fits himself into his side, tucking his chin over
his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Whatcha watchin’?”

Jungkook adjusts his grip so they can both watch. A video of a tiny puppy the size of a hand plays
on full-screen. It’s running around on a car seat, yipping at a toy the owner dangles above it.

“Awwww,” Taehyung exclaims. “That’s so cuuuute!” Jungkook hums.

They move on to a different clip, this time a big old cat spread out on a counter, a smaller, identical
cat drowning in its belly fur. When the big cat breathes, its little clone moves up and down with its
breaths.

“Oh my god.” Taehyung clasps his hands over his chest. “They’re precious.”

“So cute,” Jungkook mumbles.

The video turns out to be a compilation that’s part of a playlist, and they get through almost half of
said playlist before Yoongi drags himself into the room like a zombie. Taehyung doesn’t notice
him until he laughs.

“Are you two watching cute animal videos again? Don’t you get bored of those?” The softening of
his eyes can only be described as fondness, though Taehyung knows Yoongi rather eat his hand
than admit it.

“Hyuung,” he whines. “How is it possible to be so adorable? I’m in actual pain. This isn’t the time
to be bored.”

Yoongi snorts. “As long are you’re happy, I guess.” His eyes jump from Taehyung to Jungkook,
then back. For some reason, Taehyung starts feeling self-conscious, abruptly aware of how they’ve
pretty much fused into a single entity, cheeks pressed together and legs tangled. It’s nothing new,
to be fair, but Yoongi is too perceptive.

Before Taehyung can burst into flames, the older wanders off towards the kitchen. “I’m making
kimchi fried rice for dinner,” he announces. Jungkook perks up, finally looking away from the
video.

“Hyung, can you show me again? When I tried last time, the rice turned out goopy,” he calls over,
extracting himself from Taehyung’s limbs. Taehyung pouts. Jungkook grins at him, slapping him
on the knee. “C’mon, Tae, if we help, he’ll give us an extra portion.”

It’s not exactly private info that he’s not the biggest fan of cooking so he groans loudly, but he’s
curious and whipped enough to let Jungkook pull him up. “D’you think he could teach us how to
make jjajangmyeon next time?”

“I don’t think anyone makes that from scratch...the sauce is hard, you know.”
“Oh. I guess it’s cheap and easier to order anyway.”

“Yeah. You know what I really wanna learn how to cook? Steak.”

“Ooohh, that’s a good one. Make some for me.” Taehyung waggles his eyebrows, slinging an arm
around Jungkook’s shoulders.

“Such a lazy hyung.”

“Hyung knows you like taking care of him.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do no—” Jungkook suddenly stops walking, and Taehyung gets a chill up his spine. Jungkook
turns back towards the living room table, slow enough for horror movie music to play in
Taehyung’s head. “Wait, you didn’t clean up the wrappers again!”

“Laterrr, I’ll do it la—ah! Stop hitting me! Mercy!”

Taehyung cowers behind a wall, rubbing his palms together and pleading with his whole face.
Jungkook grabs him and gets in a couple more soft whacks, his grin starting to break through. But
then he seems to get distracted, studying Taehyung’s hair with narrowed eyes and Taehyung
considers running before he can get beat up again but he knows he can’t outrun the younger. Such
is life with Bangtan, also known as Maknae On Top.

Completely out of nowhere, Jungkook reaches up and thrusts both hands into Taehyung’s hair, who
flinches back. Jungkook cackles at his stunned expression, scrunching his fingers through the hair
and turning it into a tangled explosion. “Hey!” Taehyung says in English, pouting dramatically,
and Jungkook only lets go when he starts doubling over from laughing too hard. He points at his
broccoli head, near tears as if he isn’t the entire reason for its existence. Taehyung whines and
kicks at him but doesn’t bother fixing it, sticking his bottom lip way out.

“Oh my god, you look like my grandma!” Jungkook wheezes. Yoongi appears from behind him
and smirks at Taehyung.

“Oh yeah? Well, your grandma must be mighty dashing,” Taehyung quips, dropping the pout to
strike a pose. Yoongi gags loudly and shows himself out.

With a final sigh of a laugh, Jungkook straightens up, grin lingering. Taehyung’s surprised when
he starts to smooth out his hair again with gentle fingers. He would’ve expected Jungkook to grab
his phone for a few pictures or go run around the dorm yelling at everyone to come see, but he just
combs out the tangles, looking more and more pensive.

“I kinda miss your red hair,” he muses. “But brown suits you too.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s embarrassingly winded by the nonchalant compliment. “You think?”

Jungkook hums. “Though you look good in everything, don’tcha, V-ssi?”

“Psshh, you’re one to talk.”

He gets a happy noise in response, and Jungkook backs off after a last gentle pat over the back of
Taehyung’s head. Taehyung literally hears his self-restraint snap.
He grabs Jungkook by the forearm and tugs him behind a wall, out of sight from the kitchen. He
kisses him quickly, muffling the gasp Jungkook lets out.

Jungkook pulls him back in for another one, and they forget entirely about snack wrappers and
Yoongi and fried rice.

Whenever they line up for photos or events, the Big Hit staff usually arrange for Jungkook to be at
the center and Taehyung at the very end to balance out the members’ heights. Taehyung likes it
this way because being at the edge usually gives him more space, more freedom to pose how he
wants. Sometimes the members tease him for being the last person to walk up, calling him the
“grand finale,” and when he gets shy, they’ll lecture him about how the “good-looking ones are
supposed to come out either first or last, Taehyung, everyone knows this, duh.”

But occasionally they’ll get the opportunity to choose their own positions or shuffle amongst
themselves, and those are the times he and Jungkook always end up beside each other. Getting the
spotlight of the end position is amazing but being next to Jungkook beats out all of that.

Yeah, because now he can stand on stage next to him for the next half hour, admiring from a point-
blank distance how he looks dressed up in the uniform for the Smart Uniform Family Event,
whatever that even is. Honestly he should probably pay more attention to their endorsements but
he’s sort of distracted right now, okay. Sue him.

Jungkook looks like he belongs in some high school manhwa in his preppy, slate blue shirt with the
fancy logo over his breast pocket, black slacks hiding his strong legs. Taehyung can imagine it
perfectly: the school’s cold prince with a resting zoned-out face who really only has two friends
because he doesn’t know how to be his dork self in front of strangers. Or the sweet, introverted
corner-dweller who becomes a beast once he puts on his varsity uniform. Yeah, either version
works. Taehyung isn’t picky, he’d crush hard on both.

Jungkook bumps into his shoulder. Thinking it an accident, Taehyung ignores him, but then it
happens again, a little harder this time. He bites back a smile and bumps him back.

They’re standing so close that their shoulders brush at any small movement, and Taehyung’s
satisfied with that for the moment but Jungkook seems to disagree, nudging him a third time like
the attention-seeking little brat he is. Taehyung turns to pin him with a flat stare, ready for revenge
because if Jungkook thinks he can beat the king of touchiness at his own game then he’s got
another thing coming. However, he’s distracted from his mission when something about his eyes
locking onto Jungkook’s makes Jungkook’s social smile turn bashful, his gaze flitting away.

Wow, okay, what the fuck was that, Jeon Jungkook, huh? It’s hard enough for Taehyung to pretend
he’s unaffected, but now that he knows how Jungkook’s mouth feels against his, he might as well
die.

Halfway through the event, they trade in the uniforms for t-shirts and jeans and Taehyung waits
outside the changing room for the others once he’s done. His jaw goes slack when Jungkook
ambles out in the middle of tucking his shirt into his pants.

“Holy shit, Jungkookie,” he gasps. “Your legs.”

He can’t remember if he’s ever allowed himself to be so explicit about how attractive he finds
Jungkook’s body, and he didn’t even make a conscious decision to say anything just now, but wow.

“What?” Jungkook asks, clearly self-conscious. Which is mind-blowing. Taehyung has no idea
how he could feel like anything less than Brad Pitt in those fuckin’ second-skin black jeans, thighs
stretching the material. His eyes can’t stop trailing up and down his body.

“You’re, like, ninety percent legs,” he hisses.

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “Says Mr. Handsome himself.”

“God,” Taehyung continues to mutter to himself. “I didn’t even think I was a legs man. I’ve always
had it bad for asses and thighs specifically, but—wait, was that TMI? Damn. I’m a changed man.
I’ve seen the light.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a tight line, pink rising to his cheeks. “H-have you ever even looked
in a mirror?” he mutters under his breath. “You’ve got the longest, prettiest legs.”

For once, Taehyung’s too busy admiring to get flustered about the compliment. Over Jungkook’s
shoulder, he catches a glimpse of Jimin, who is a dirty eavesdropper and looks like his face can’t
decide between horrified and gleeful. Taehyung ignores him because he has much more important
matters to attend to.

Legs before bros, people. Does he care that that doesn't rhyme? No. No, he does not.

As soon as they get home, he drags Jungkook into his room and wraps himself around him,
drawing him into a kiss like Taehyung’s a kid with a sweet tooth and zero self-control and
Jungkook’s mouth is candy. Jungkook grabs at him as if he’s been waiting to do this for hours too,
and if Taehyung’s brain weren’t on vacation right now, he’d connect the dots, the coy looks and
cheeky touches.

Their heads tilt automatically now, the fruits of nearly a week of practice. Gentle, cute kisses that
have gotten increasingly heated, enough for Taehyung to stop feeling guilty about the primitive
need to take thrumming in his veins. He pokes his tongue out for the first time, unsure but too hot
to be nervous with Jungkook’s hands branding his back, and slides his tongue over the younger’s
lower lip like he’s been dreaming of for ages. He sucks at the plump flesh, then nips it with the tips
of his teeth, and Jungkook makes a sound that may have been a moan.

The knowledge that Taehyung just made Jungkook moan lights his body on fire. He wonders if it’d
be okay to lick into Jungkook’s mouth. He wants to taste him so bad, to find out what other noises
he’ll make, whether they’ll be the same as the ones Taehyung’s shamefully imagined in his weaker
moments.

Jungkook beats him to it, pressing his tongue against Taehyung’s carefully. The warmth, wetness,
softness steal his breath and he follows Jungkook’s tongue back into his mouth, feeling like he’ll
die if he doesn’t get more.

Neither of them has done this before, or at least Taehyung certainly hasn’t, not with tongue, not a
real make-out session with any of the twenty-day girlfriends he had in high school. And after
becoming a trainee, he didn’t want to try with anyone except for Jungkook. He’s assuming
Jungkook doesn’t have much experience either, secretly hopes he didn’t want to do it with anyone
but Taehyung too. But they’re figuring it out together and that makes this even hotter.

Taehyung’s head spins with the way Jungkook’s waist feels in his grip, his breathy moans when
Taehyung sucks on his tongue just right, the heat of his mouth. Jungkook doesn’t taste like
anything except for a hint of the barley tea he was drinking earlier, and Taehyung knows,
objectively, that people’s mouths don’t have their own flavours outside of porny fiction. So why
can’t he stop? Why does it taste so good, feel so good, to kiss Jungkook?

He hates separating from Jungkook’s mouth, wants to stay melted against him like this no matter
how swollen and raw his lips feel later. But he’s running out of air even though he’s been trying to
breathe through his nose and if they keep going, he’ll definitely get hard. He doesn’t want to move
that quickly. Call him old-fashioned but he wants to cherish every milestone with Jungkook.

Jungkook follows his lead, pulling away to breathe heavily, their lips separating with a wet sound
that doesn’t help the situation in his pants. Taehyung rests their foreheads together and closes his
eyes, enjoying the moment and willing himself to calm down. Jungkook’s arms are still around his
neck but they slide down now, smoothing over Taehyung’s shoulder blades. He squeezes.

“Your back’s gotten wide,” he whispers into the space between their faces. His tone is so honest
again, devoid of his usual exaggerated confidence, and Taehyung wonders if this is going to
become a thing. Jungkook complimenting him without his usual veil of cockiness. Because that
would be fuckin’ amazing but also detrimental for his health.

He takes in Jungkook’s red cheeks and red lips. Unable to resist, he leans in to press another soft
kiss on Jungkook’s mouth. “Yeah?” he murmurs back, just as quiet.

He feels the shiver run down Jungkook’s body through the hands he’s got around his waist.
“Jiminie-hyung noticed too. A few months ago, during, uh. You know when you were getting out
of the water tank...”

“Hmm...’m not buff like you.”

Jungkook’s hands drop, stroking his lower back, his eyes glazed over. All of a sudden, a memory
flashes through Taehyung’s mind of one time where he caught Jungkook watching an episode of
BTS American Hustle Life with a tomato face and bitten bottom lip. Jungkook managed to kick
him away but was later outed anyway, when Jimin unlocked his phone and started loudly asking
why there was a video paused at a shot of Taehyung, grinning at the camera, sleeve pushed up to
his shoulder as he lifted a dumbbell. Jungkook stormed off, shouting about how he was just
shocked because Taehyung never exercised, and Taehyung took it at face value at that time.

Well, now he’s suspecting otherwise as he watches Jungkook’s throat bob harshly. “Yeah, but...”
Jungkook trails off, squeezing Taehyung’s shoulders. He hesitates for a second, staring, before he
mutters, “You’re a man.”

Taehyung feels his face grow hot with both firsthand and secondhand embarrassment. Oh god, he
so wants to scream about how gross and cheesy that was and yeah, like, technically he is a man in
the strict sense of the word so what’re you trying to say, Jungkookie, huh, what’re you implying,
huh, god, what lame movie did you jack that line from, huh?

But Taehyung’s too flustered for any of that right now so he just makes a sound like a strangled
walrus. And he pulls the brat into another kiss, ignoring how Jungkook huffs out a giggle against
his mouth.

“I just...I’m so ashamed of myself, you know?” Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, his nose resting
against his steepled hands. “Seriously, how could I—how could I have missed it?”

“Mm...fighting,” Taehyung says, thumbs flying over his phone. He might’ve been more concerned
about Jimin’s existential crisis if he weren’t about to beat Jungkook’s high score on Piano Tiles.
And also if he couldn’t recognize his platonic soulmate’s acting tone from a mile away, but he does
and he’s also aware that indulging him now will make him hate himself later, so no thank you.

“I mean, I pride myself on being observant, you know? Like, I think I’m pretty good at reading
people’s emotions, don’t you think, Taetae? You agree with me, right? Tell me I’m right.”

“You’re right.”

“Yeah, I know I am. So I just don’t understand how this could’ve happened.”

Taehyung gasps, lets out a whoop, and slams his phone down on his bed, gloating at its flashing
screen. “Suck it, Jeon Jungkook!” he shouts, thrusting his fists in the air.

From across the dorm, they hear, “Whaaa?!”

“No, shh, don’t!” Jimin does a back flip off his bed like a secret agent and rolls all the way to the
door. He locks it right as the doorknob turns.

“Hey, why’d you lock it?” Jungkook whines from outside. “I heard Tae—uh, Taehyungie-hyung
yell my name.”

“Nothing, Jungkookie,” Jimin says sweetly. “Hyung’s busy having a mental breakdown so come
back in half an hour and you can flir—play with Taetae all you want then, ‘kay?”

Jungkook sounds like he’s choking on his tongue for a moment. “Wait, which of you is having the
breakdown?”

“Me, cutie-patootie, it’s me,” Jimin croons.

“Oh, okay. Bye then.” He walks off without fanfare.

Jimin turns to glare when Taehyung starts making squeaky sounds of laughter from his bed, chest
shaking.

“That fuckin’ punk, I oughta teach him a lesson. Just ‘cause I’m not the one sticking my tongue
down his throat, he abandons me immediately. Wow.”

Taehyung stops laughing. He did not need that image in his head. In fact, it makes him sort of mad
because Jimin and Jungkook are already maybe a bit too close for his liking, and yes he’s aware
he’s a total hypocrite because he literally calls Jimin his soulmate but that’s different, okay?

“What? Why’re you looking at me like you wanna knee me in the solar plexus?” Taehyung
flinches.

“Am not.”

“Uh. Yeah, you were.”

He harrumphs, crawling under his comforter in lieu of answering and pulling it up to his chin,
settling in for what he’s accepted as his fate. “So what were you freaking out about?”

“Oh, now you care, huh? I see how it is.”

“Jiminiiiee.”

“Fine. It was about Jungkook.”

Taehyung sits up so fast his vision goes a little blurry. Oh no, Jungkook? He starts regretting not
paying attention because what if he was wrong, what if something’s actually going on and he was
preoccupied with Piano Tiles of all things instead of being the supportive, sympathetic friend he
should be? Or what if it’s something else entirely, because didn’t Jimin say something about
realizing something? Oh god, it can’t be—

“WhataboutJungkook?” he wheezes.

Jimin stares at him judgmentally, a smirk playing on his lips. “Chill, my friend, I’m not secretly in
love with him or anything. Unlike someone I know, cough cough.”

Taehyung splutters, his mouth open like a goldfish. “Saying ‘cough cough’ with actual words
defeats the entire purp—”

“I’ve just been noticing a lot of things.” Jimin sighs, a maiden in the throes of great despair.
“Things I can’t believe I never saw before and it’s making me re-evaluate my entire life.”

Taehyung blinks at him. He lies back down. Man, why did he even bother panicking when he
knew Jimin was just being Jimin, joking around at the expense of Taehyung’s sanity? He wonders
if the other would notice if he started playing with his phone again, but knowing Jimin, he’d
probably snatch up the phone and throw it across the room.

Better not then, Taehyung’s got some cute photos of Jungkook in there that he hasn’t had the
chance to back up yet. The stylists dressed him in a ginormous hoodie the other day and he fell
asleep with his knees tucked inside it and the hood pulled up. Taehyung didn’t even notice how
many pictures he took until his phone started blaring at him about not having enough memory.
Heartbreaking.

“—waffles but then you realized pancakes were the superior choice and the knowledge was in your
blood the entire time but you j—are you listening to me, Kim Taehyung?”

“Sure am, Park Chimchim,” he answers, and reminds himself that Jimin rescued him from certain
humiliation and possible death by convincing him not to attempt a front flip off some monkey bars,
when they passed by a primary school on their way home from drinks one time. He turns on his
side to give his saviour his full attention. “Go on.”

Jimin pouts and heaves a sigh that’s so heavy it blows his bangs off his forehead. “So yeah. That
was my shower thought of the day.”

“Okay.”

Jimin nods emphatically, lips downturned. “Anyway, then I started thinking about how deep
Jungkookie’s voice gets when he’s around you.”

Taehyung’s mouth drops open and okay, now he’s actually paying attention. “What?” he squawks.

“Yeah.” Jimin sits up straighter, something like hope gleaming in his eyes. “You didn’t notice
either, did you?”

“What are you even talking about?”

“We learned this in biology, you dolt. When women talk to someone they find attractive, their
voices naturally get higher. For men, it’s the opposite, their voices go lower.”

“O-Okay?” Taehyung squeaks.

“So like, every time you’re lying somewhere being useless and Jungkookie goes up to you really
close but not too close because, y’know, he’s a tsundere and doesn’t want people to know how
much he likes you, right, and then he says, like, super quietly and all deep and stuff, ‘What’re you
up to, hyung?’ as if the rest of us aren’t in the room and listening to him use his bedroom voice
trying to be manly and hot to attract you because he thinks you’re manly and hot except he isn’t
even consciously trying, it’s literally a biological reaction and I—I couldn’t believe I never noticed
until now! I really am blind!”

Taehyung gapes. “Wh-what?”

“Ha!” Jimin points at him triumphantly. “I knew you wouldn’t know this, Taetae, you were never
great at bio. Go google it or something if you don’t believe me.”

“B-But—”

“I feel like it’s ‘cause deep voices are associated with independence and strength and testosterone
or something. And you know Jungkookie, he’s all about that crap. Which reminds me of
something, by the way.”

“There’s more?”

“Jungkookie, he just—” Jimin waves both hands in the air. “Have you noticed how much he likes
taking care of you? I mean, he does the mothering thing with all of us but with you, his heart eyes
come out.”

“Heart eyes?!” Taehyung splutters. “Pics or it didn’t happen!”

“Oh shut up, you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s disgusting, blegh. And he really loves
helping you with stuff. Don’t you think it’s ‘cause he likes being...I dunno, strong and capable? In
front of you, specifically. And he’s showing you he can be a provider even though everyone knows
he’s your baby and you just let him do it because you’re a huge attention whore and totally think
it’s cute that your baby’s trying to look after you and—”

He stops because there’s a pillow in his face. That Taehyung threw at him. As he screeched at a
deafening volume.

Jimin hurls the pillow right back at him. Taehyung goes down. The screeching ceases.

“What was that for?” Jimin stomps his foot like an actual child. “I was on a roll there, why’d you
ruin it!”

“Me?” Taehyung shoots up, indignant, his ears burning and chin wobbling. “Was that what your
crisis was about? Oh my god, why’d you have to come in here and attack me like this, I was just
trying to play Piano Tiles!”

“I live here too, you know.”

“Irrelevant!” Taehyung stabs a finger towards the door. “I think it’s time you leave, Park Jiminie.
We can’t do this to each other any longer, we’re toxic together and we both know it but we’ve been
dragging it on for the sake of nostalgia and what-ifs, but—”

“Stop trying to distract me with our break-up, Taetae, I know you secretly loved every single dirty
word I said just now.”

Taehyung shuts his mouth. He plucks at his comforter, feeling tiny and vulnerable even though
he’s wearing his silky, rich people pj’s.

“You make it sound like he really likes me,” he says, voice small.

“Huh? Why are you surprised? You guys are dating, of course he likes you.”

Something twinges in Taehyung’s gut. “I guess...”

Jimin looks him up and down, the judginess returning with a vengeance. “Taehyung-ah. He likes
you a lot.”

Taehyung decides that that’s enough heart palpitations for one day. Can’t let himself get carried
away using up his limited number of heartbeats. He sighs, curling back up in his little blanket nest.
“So what prompted this anyway?”

Jimin glares at him but graciously allows the subject change. He leaps off the bed, cracking his
knuckles. “I knew you weren’t listening!”

“Yeah, I tuned out the beginning.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Hashtag Taekook is trending on Twitter.”

“What?!”

“’Cause of the Smart Event. Some fancams caught you guys making eyes at each other, you were
sooo obvious. Haha!”

Taehyung sinks further beneath his comforter until it covers all of him from forehead down.
“Fuuuck.”

“Hey, no biggie. Half the internet thinks they’re delusional and the other half thinks you guys are
the cutest things ever.”

“What about the ARMYs who think of us as their boyfriends though?”

“Oh, they’re the ones who think everyone’s delusional. Don’t worry, denial’s our best friend here.”

Taehyung groans.

A knock comes at the door. “Jimin, are you done with your mental breakdown? It’s been forever!”

Taehyung checks his phone. It’s been ten minutes, max.

“That’s hyung to you, punk!” Jimin yells, though he gets up to unlock the door. Jungkook marches
in and Taehyung is still pretending he’s part of the bed but he can tell just by the cocky stompiness
of Jungkook’s footsteps that he’s grinning like the cat that ate the canary. A sudden weight on the
bed makes Taehyung bounce.

“Hi Tae,” Jungkook says, and Taehyung thinks it’s supposed to be a joke, that he’s coming over
and cheekily only saying hi to Taehyung even though Jimin’s right there, but Taehyung’s too busy
to take advantage of the opportunity to gloat at his fellow fighter-for-Jungkook’s-rare-affections.
Because all he can notice is that holy guacamole, Jimin’s right. Jungkook’s voice was soft and
deep, sweet like honey.

Taehyung peeks above his covers to meet eyes with Jimin, whose forehead is spasming from all the
suggestive eyebrow work he’s doing. Then Taehyung looks over at Jungkook, who’s blinking at
him and Jimin curiously.

Jungkook frowns. “I said, hi.”

“Oh, yeah, hi, ba—”

Taehyung chokes, his face catching on fire.

Jungkook looks confused. Jimin does too until the lightbulb goes off, and then a gasp hitches
audibly in his throat and he starts looking like a volcano about to erupt. From laughter, probably.
He has no right, what the hell, it’s all his fault Taehyung almost—all his talk about Jungkook being
his baby and shit, Jimin is such a saboteur, what the hell.

A voice in the back of his head reminds him this isn’t the first time Taehyung’s almost called
Jungkook 'baby,' and that time didn’t have a single thing to do with Jimin. Who he has decided to
hate, FYI.

“—UH. HI, KOOKIE,” he tries.

Jungkook’s suspicious now, squinting at them both.

Taehyung uses Distraction. “Wh-what’s up?” he says quickly. “Were you looking for me?”

It’s super effective! Jungkook instantly finds fascination in the pattern of Taehyung’s sheets, which
is interesting because the sheets are solid gray and not that fun to look at. And Jungkook’s got this
face on, the one with spacey eyes like he’s seeing whatever’s playing in his mind instead of what’s
in front of him. Cheeks stiff, fingers fidgeting. Taehyung calls it his preparation face. Usually
occurs when he’s building up his mental walls before working up the nerve to do something.

Realization strikes Taehyung like a lightning bolt because he’s seen an increase of preparation face
lately, all during a special type of situation.

“Jiminie,” he says pleasantly. “I think you should go to the bathroom for a bit. Maybe the next half
hour or so.”

He doesn’t see Jimin stare at him because he’s too busy watching Jungkook’s eyes go round and
snap to his. For a moment, Taehyung feels guilty, Jungkook probably didn’t know Jimin was privy
to this thing between them and he might not want him to be. Before he can go down that train of
thought though, Jimin seems to finally put the pieces together because he hisses something like “oh
my fublbhrbr.” And makes a speedy exit.

The door hasn’t finished closing behind him before Taehyung snakes an arm out from under his
comforter and pulls Jungkook down, dragging him inside his blanket cocoon. Jungkook is visibly
faking chill, arranging himself comfortably, draping an arm over Taehyung’s middle.

Something builds between them as they stare at each other. Taehyung makes the first move,
leaning in, and Jungkook just watches him, his eyes going half-lidded. Their mouths meet.

Taehyung keeps thinking the novelty will wear off and that one of these days, he’ll stop ascending
to the heavens every time he gets the chance to do this, but it’s not happening.

He takes Jungkook’s top lip between his, hungry for more contact, always hungry for him.
Jungkook tilts his head a little and presses in closer, mouth moving against Taehyung’s. Taehyung
breathes in his scent, wanting it to stay in his lungs, make a home there.
Maybe he should’ve told Jimin to give them an hour instead.
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

i am SO SORRY this took so damn long...this and the next couple chaps have been a
bit more challenging to write so i've been tweaking stuff. thanks for being patient!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Melancholy drapes itself over his shoulders, kinda like a blanket except without the warmth or
fuzziness or any other good things about blankets. Just the covering part. And the weighing you
down part. And the part where if you stay under it for too long your mom will yell at you about
suffocating to death.

He’s spent a while mulling over whether there’s a reason for it this time, if it’s work stress or friend
stress or stress in the ahem, romantic sense. But no, their concert went swimmingly, the members
have been messing around with him same as always, and, uh. No anxiety-inducing developments
with Jungkook or anything, so.

It’s probably just one of those days. It’ll pass after a refreshing night of sleep, he knows, so
Taehyung tries not to let it bother him. Instead, he decides to stream. When he gets into one of
these sad, lonely moods, he turns on V-live to remind himself of those who support and love him,
and remember that there are people all over the world who would be sad if they knew he was sad
too.

He bites his lip, wondering if he should go with some sort of theme to make the live interesting this
time, or if he just wants to chat with their ARMYs. His attention is caught by the Nick stuffie that a
fan was thoughtful enough to gift to him, sitting on his hotel bed. He really likes it, named it Vick
because, you know, Nick and V, get it, get it? Yeah, Zootopia was such an amazing movie, Vick
totally deserves a V-live mention.

He starts up the camera and waits for the viewers to come in as he makes Vick sing “Snow
Flower,” waving its arms around. When he gets bored of that, he tells the stuffie, “You did a good
job,” patting its head and yeeting it away. Then he feels bad because maybe that was sort of
violent, although treating stuffies with a degree of violence seems to be a Bangtan thing. Actually,
no, Hoseok would be sad if he did that to any of his stuffies. Maybe a maknae line thing, then. If
Jungkook was here, he’d totally be squishing Nick into a deformed ball right now. Taehyung tries
not to grin like a creep at the thought of that.

“Hi everyone, we’re in Osaka, Japan,” he tells the camera. He introduces them to Vick, chatters
about some random stuff, sings a couple more songs. The fans are enthusiastic as always, asking
what he’s up to and requesting certain songs for him to sing. Taehyung’s having fun but the lonely
feeling isn’t going away. He wonders what he should do next.

When he asks the ARMYs for ideas, they suggest Attack on Next Door (god, how are their fans so
hilarious?). Taehyung perks up, excitement mounting as he thinks about which of the members he
should go annoy. He messages the group KaTalk chat, asking for their room numbers without
context, unworried since if they’re checking their phones then they probably saw the notification
for Taehyung going live anyway. Jungkook messages back first before Taehyung can spam him in
their private conversation and Taehyung barely holds back a giggle, not because he’s biased and
totally wants to go to Jungkook’s room or anything. He’s just thrilled that their youngest got back
to him so quick even though he never texts back, yup, that's the only reason he’s so giddy right
now. He grins at his phone as more notifications come in, Jungkook going, why do you ask?, and
later, breakfast together tomorrow?

Taehyung grabs his stuff and prances out into the hall. He finds Jungkook’s room quickly and
bangs on the door, shouting, “Jungkook-ah!”

“Who is it~?” comes from the other side, as if Jungkook didn’t literally just tell him his room
number. Taehyung chuckles to himself. “Who is it?!” Jungkook demands again playfully, and then
when Taehyung tells him he’s live, a more panicked, “Hold on, I’m not wearing clothes right
now!”

“Oooh, Jungkookie’s not wearing clooothes.” Taehyung makes a creeper face at the camera. He
waits a good few seconds for the rustling of clothing to die down, and then barges in, peeking
inside.

“Jungkook, you’re naked?” He makes sure the younger is decent before marching into the dark
room, going straight for the music player. The song isn’t one he recognizes but it’s sort of angsty, a
little bit haunting. Jungkook’s default relaxation routine happens to be dim lights and quiet music.
Taehyung keeps up with the teasing, but he thinks to himself that maybe Jungkook isn’t feeling too
chipper.

Jungkook asks him why he’s there and he brushes it off, but then at the third “Why are you here?
You scared me, coming in suddenly,” a small part of Taehyung becomes concerned.

A bigger part is hurt. He was looking forward to hanging out with Jungkook, but Jungkook seems
so eager to get rid of him.

“To get on V-app with you,” Taehyung says, voice dropping out of its light tone.

Jungkook’s eyes snap up, shifting over Taehyung’s face.

“Oh, V-app?” he says quickly. He shuffles closer to the camera, looking into it squarely. “Hello,
everyone. This is Jungkook. I just had some rice and bread, and I was about to eat more bread...”
He studies himself in the screen of the camera, complaining about his leftover eye makeup
smudging over his lower lids. “I haven’t washed up yet.”

“Me neither,” Taehyung tells him. He doesn’t know if Jungkook’s actually trying to make him
leave or if it’s something else but he doesn’t care anymore, he came on a mission and he’s gonna
accomplish it, for the fans if nothing else.

He ropes Jungkook into singing karaoke and they both get into it, Jungkook’s beautiful voice
filling the hotel room as Taehyung harmonizes and dances and dabs in the background. A few
impromptu songs later, Jungkook offers to sing “Paper Hearts.”

“The fans liked that one the best out of all my covers,” he comments.

“Oh, really?” It’s also Taehyung’s favourite. For obvious reasons. But he’s not going to bring that
up right now, he doesn’t feel like scrambling for an answer if anyone happens to ask him why.

His phone’s been vibrating with more notifications, mostly from Seokjin and Jimin, who are
awake and would probably welcome him and his live. Taehyung doesn’t really want to leave, but
when Jungkook asks if they’re allowed to keep the live going for so long, his stomach drops a
little, and he decides he’s overstayed his welcome.
Still, acting like a freak with Jungkook has cheered him up somewhat and even though it sucks that
Jungkook’s kicking him out, he’s grateful that the younger was willing to humour him for so long
when he was obviously craving alone time. Taehyung drifts towards the door as Jungkook says his
goodbyes to the ARMYs and promises that he’ll keep working on his English so his pronunciation
for English covers will be flawless. Perfectionist as always, ha.

“Bye~” Taehyung says to him and pads back out into the hallway, heading for his own room. He
hums, unsure if he should actually go visit someone else. He’s not in the mood anymore but maybe
the fans would be disappointed if he didn’t.

All thoughts of the other members fly out of his head when he reaches his door. He stares at it
blankly.

Oh shit, he forgot his key.

“Everyone. I think this isn’t the time for me to be chatting with you.” He turns the camera to his
door. “The door’s locked.” On the inside, he’s harping at himself with some choice non-airable
words, but he just smiles at the camera and bids their fans goodbye before turning off the live.

“Great,” he mutters to himself as he texts the group chat asking them what room the managers are
in again. So smart, Kim Taehyung. Good going.

The manager who greets him in the hotel lobby seems annoyed at first, hair sticking up already
from sleep even though it isn’t that late yet. When he sees Taehyung being all sheepish though, his
expression eases into a smile.

“Here,” he says, handing him a new key. “They gave us one of the spares so when we check out in
a couple days, make sure you bring both keys, okay? Don’t forget, Taehyung-ah.”

“Okay, I won’t. Thanks, hyung.”

“Yeah. Now go wash up, we have an early day tomorrow.”

“’Kaayy.”

He trudges back into the elevator and up to his room, breathing a sigh of relief when the door
opens successfully with his new key. His original one is sitting innocently on the desk and he pouts
at it for a bit. Then he gathers up the long-sleeved shirt and shorts he’s brought as his sleep clothes
and goes to take a shower.

Taehyung jolts awake, disoriented in the half-light. For a moment, he doesn’t remember where he
is, and then he hears the knocks again.

“Who is it,” he croaks, grabbing his phone to check the time. A little past midnight. Must’ve dozed
off while watching a drama on the iPad he borrowed from Yoongi.

“It’s me,” Jungkook calls.

Immediately, Taehyung jolts back to full consciousness, and not because of the butterfly-twist of
his stomach that he usually gets around Jungkook. Something about being in a hotel and the layout
of the room, plus the unfamiliar scent of the sheets, the sound of the AC, overlaps with a different
memory. Jungkook asking for him at the door. The sense of deja-vu is nauseating. It sits in his gut
even though he knows he’s being stupid, that the past is in the past.

He grabs a half empty bottle of coke from his bedside table, taking the time to sip at it unhurriedly.
Jungkook starts spamming the doorbell now that he knows Taehyung’s awake, so Taehyung works
up the nerve to slide off the bed and shuffle across the room. The door opens to reveal Jungkook
wearing the hotel bathrobe, now with freshly dried hair and a bare face.

“Hi,” Jungkook says, glancing up at him before quickly looking down at his own slippered feet,
and again this scene is giving Taehyung flashbacks he’d prefer not to have. “You’re still awake?”

‘Well, does it look like I’m sleep-walking,’ he wants to ask, but something about Jungkook seems
off right now.

“You woke me up,” Taehyung informs him with a quirk of his lips. “I was having the greatest nap
ever, I dreamt I was a bird flying around pooping on people.”

Jungkook snorts but still doesn’t meet his eyes when he mumbles, “Sorry, I can go back.”

Taehyung stares at him, more than a little confused. What’s most frustrating is that the more he
watches Jungkook being unsure like this, the more he wants to grab and smother and kiss him.
Maybe he’s allowed now, but there’s still something stopping him.

Instead of replying, he pulls Jungkook into the room and shuts the door behind him. “What’s up,
Jungkookie?” He brushes a hand down his arm. “Were you lonely?”

Jungkook scoffs loudly. “More like I came to relieve your loneliness.”

“Pfft, you’re the one that kicked me out,” Taehyung jokes. And even though he did feel a bit
lonely earlier from getting kicked out, he really is just joking. It’s not like he doesn’t understand
where Jungkook’s coming from. Hell, sometimes Taehyung wants to be left alone too. The only
reason he was bothered by this was because he wasn’t in a great mood to begin with, that’s all.

Jungkook follows him as Taehyung walks back over to his bed, belly-flopping on it with a satisfied
groan, and Jungkook stands at the foot of his bed awkwardly.

“Hyung, you—you know earlier, I—” Jungkook stops, sighs in such frustration the air sounds like
it’s scraping past his throat.

Taehyung flips over to his back and props himself up on his elbows, waiting. Jungkook scowls. He
lets himself fall forward, sprawling over the bed next to Taehyung, then rolls over to face the
ceiling. “When I asked if we could record on V-app for so long, I was actually asking,” he says
eventually. “Because I didn’t know. I wasn’t—trying to make you go away.”

“Oh.” Taehyung blinks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says.

“Okay,” Taehyung returns, trying not to smile too hard. Sticking with the promise he made to
himself not to make this a big deal because it wasn’t, he swears, it really wasn’t.

God, this is ridiculous, how Jungkook can do something so small and make everything bad go
away.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Jungkook pouts, bringing his fist up to drop it on Taehyung’s poor,
innocent comforter in a makeshift punch. Taehyung watches him do it a couple more times.

“Wait, did you come here just to say that?”

Jungkook stiffens. “...No, I came—for—I was bored.”

“Aww, Jungkookie...” Taehyung crawls closer, hovering above him. He tries to catch a glimpse of
Jungkook’s face and Jungkook lets him, but he’s visibly trying to channel nonchalance with his
whole body. Taehyung’s heart squeezes. “Were you feeling bad about it this whole time? That’s so
like you.”

Jungkook drops his attempt at a poker face, pouting so hard he gets all these little wrinkles on his
chin. Taehyung wants to kiss the mole under his lip. “I didn’t—I thought you’d be mad.”

“You know I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t trying to kick you out,” Jungkook says again, insistent, and this time he’s staring
stubbornly into Taehyung’s eyes. “I was just—I didn’t think you were gonna be on V-app, when
you asked for our room numbers.”

Taehyung’s mouth shapes into an ‘o.’ “You didn’t see the notification?”

“No. And I...” Jungkook exhales, lips pursed. “I was kinda planning on eating and relaxing, you
know, maybe reading some manhwa.”

“So you would’ve preferred not to have a camera on you,” Taehyung confirms. Jungkook nods
twice in quick succession, the movements small enough to be imperceptible if Taehyung wasn’t
looking for them. “And you wouldn’t have minded some alone time.” This time, Jungkook
hesitates. Taehyung quickly says, “Hey, Jungkookie. I get it, okay? I mean, like. You’re the type of
dude that needs lots of alone time to introvert or whatever. I know. It doesn’t bother me that you
wanted to be by yourself.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook scoots closer on the bed. There are two deep lines between his brows, a severe
downward twist to his mouth. “I do like being alone, but what...what I’m saying is doing my alone
thing with you there...it wouldn’t completely suck, I guess.”

Oh.

Well.

Taehyung thinks he might be having a stroke. What do strokes feel like? Because he’s hot all over
and starting to sweat and his heart sort of hurts.

“Jungkookie,” he whines, falling flat on his stomach. An arm and a leg shoot out to wrap around
Jungkook, yanking them flush. He nuzzles against the side of Jungkook’s face, swimming in his
words and all the gross feelings welling up inside him.

“Only until you start poking me three million times in a row,” Jungkook clarifies loudly into his
ear. “Then I’ll kick you out for real.” Taehyung shuts him up by pulling away enough to give him
a loud smacking kiss on the cheek, to which Jungkook makes a sound of exaggerated disapproval.

Taehyung gazes into those pretty, sparkly eyes, and he’s so pleased that his entire body feels weak.
Jungkook grins at him, child-like in both the glee and smugness of it.

“Thanks, Jungkookie,” Taehyung laughs. “For giving me permission to be in the same room as you
while you introvert.”

“You know introvert isn’t a verb, right?”

“I turned it into one just for you.”

“Wow, what an honour.”

“You know it.” He pats Jungkook’s squishy cheek. “Cutie.”

The tips of Jungkook’s ears glow red and Taehyung sighs happily, wiggling against him. “Well,
that made my day. Good timing too, I was in a pretty shitty mood earlier.”

Jungkook’s smile falls.

“No, no!” Taehyung clings harder to him. “I mean, before I went to your room. I was kind of bored.
And lonely.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says quietly. He’s starting to look guilty now and Taehyung can’t have that
happening, no sirree, so he kisses him again, this time on the mouth. Jungkook freezes up first
before he lets out a slow breath through his nose. His mouth relaxes under Taehyung’s, lips
puckered to perfectly accept his soft kisses.

When they part, Jungkook’s face has a bit more colour to it, but his eyes are sad. “I should’ve
known,” he says.

“Stop, silly,” Taehyung chuckles. “How could you have known? You’re not a mind-reader. And
I’m an amazing actor, hello.”

“Not in front of me, you’re not.”

“Are you flirting with me or insulting me? I can’t decide.”

“Wha—” Jungkook shoves him. “Neither!”

“Seriously, Kookie, I—”

Jungkook grabs his face in both hands, staring him down. “Tae, you always do this thing when
you’re feeling bad, like. You shut down or something. Stop pretending you’re okay when you’re
not. I-I’m not your hyung, but that doesn’t mean I can’t listen.” He bites his lip, eyes drifting to
somewhere around Taehyung’s nose. “I’m not smart like Rapmon-hyung or...comforting like
Jimin-hyung, but I can try to help. Or it doesn’t even have to be me if you don’t want to, just tell
someone. Anyone.”

Taehyung feels a surge of affection and protectiveness, ballooning in his chest until he’s ready to
burst. He hopes Jungkook never changes. He’s so full of love, so caring, empathetic, pure of heart.
Taehyung wants to protect him from everything bad in the world.

“Okay, Jungkook-ah. I’ll try,” he promises, kissing Jungkook on the eyelid. And it’s this kiss that
makes his face hot, knowing he’s being too loud about his feelings, that he’s been too loud ever
since they first kissed.

Jungkook keeps the stern look on him for a few more seconds before apparently deciding he’s
satisfied and slouching back down on the bed. Taehyung tucks him into the crook of his neck,
grinning like a moron. Unthinkingly, he asks, “Hey, do you wanna stay?”
The implications of what he’s said hit him when Jungkook stiffens against him. Taehyung’s heart
starts thudding against his chest.

They’ve been doing this whole kissing thing for over a month now but they haven’t shared a bed in
a long time. Especially not when they all have their own separate hotel rooms, and shit, now he’s
realizing Jungkook is only in a robe and there’s nothing keeping them apart or stopping Taehyung’s
imagination from running away from him.

“You don’t have to!” he squeaks when Jungkook doesn’t reply. “I just—it’s late, and I, uh, I wasn’t
trying to be a weirdo or anything.”

“I’ll stay,” Jungkook says resolutely, his face becoming one with Taehyung’s collarbone. “Didn’t
bring clothes though so I’ll just sleep in my robe.”

“Oh, uh. You can borrow something, if you want? Probably not comfortable to sleep in that,
right...”

Jungkook agrees so Taehyung pulls away from him, feeling awkward in his skin all of a sudden,
and hops off the bed to dig around for something comfortable and clean in his suitcase. Jungkook
is so sensitive to smell, he doesn’t want to give him anything worn or musty.

After the maknae changes into the shirt and flowy pants (“these flowers are so grandma, Tae, oh
my god, HAHAHA!” “shut up, they’re comfortable and you know I pull them off!”), they snuggle
up in bed. The lights are off except for the one in the hallway that they forgot about and were too
lazy to get up for, and they’ve pulled the curtains entirely closed, just in case. Taehyung can barely
see past his nose but he finds Jungkook’s jaw with his lips, absently trailing butterly kisses over the
hard line of it.

Jungkook’s ribs expand under his arms with a big inhale. “I’ll go back to my room in the morning,”
he whispers.

Taehyung stops kissing him to pout. “Fine, but not too early.”

“As if I’m gonna wake up early. Actually, I should set an alarm or something or we’ll both sleep
till noon. Pass me my phone?”

Taehyung twists around, reaching for the phone on the nightstand. As he hands it to Jungkook, the
screen lights up and he does a double-take. It’s the selca he sent proudly to Jungkook earlier today
of the best ugly face he’s ever pulled in his life.

“Holy crap!” He barks out a laugh as Jungkook snatches the phone out of his hand. “Wow,
throwback to that time I changed your wallpaper to my demented clown selca. Since when have
you been willingly using my face as your phone background, hmmmm, Jungkook-ssi?”

“You’re the one that sent it to me,” Jungkook defends weakly, attempting to roll away but
Taehyung clamps a firm hand on his waist. “Not my fault it’s such an impressively unattractive
face!”

“Hmm, you did rate it nine outta ten on our CTU scale.”

“...What’s CTU stand for again?”

“Commitment To Ugliness.” Jungkook snorts. “I’ll send you a ten next time, don’t worry.”

“I don’t think anything can get more horrifying than this.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Jungkook tries to look affronted but a giggle escapes past the front teeth digging into his bottom
lip. Taehyung draws him close and pecks that cute little bottom lip. Jungkook looks at him, pout
deepening for some reason, probably more comical than he was aiming for with the light from his
phone screen exaggerating the shadows of his face. Taehyung has no choice but to kiss him square
on the mouth.

Jungkook immediately swipes his tongue over Taehyung’s lips, licking past his teeth, and he has to
swallow back a groan as their tongues tangle, his head going fuzzy. Jungkook is so warm against
him, pressed up together from chest to hip, hot breaths puffing against his mouth. The sound of his
breathing alone makes Taehyung's head spin, the inhales cut off every time Jungkook gets
distracted by him sucking on his tongue or nipping his lip. Taehyung can already imagine what
he’ll sound like gasping, panting, moaning airily.

He’s about two seconds away from getting hard so he slows them down, stroking over Jungkook’s
back, light and soothing. When they pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are hazy, his lips swollen.
Taehyung prays to every god he knows for strength.

“G’night, Jungkookie,” he whispers. Jungkook blinks slowly at him, relaxed and beautiful.

“’Night, Tae.”

The next morning, Taehyung texts Jimin, “I’m quitting our Mandaggo show.”

The keyboard mash of emoticons Jimin replies with is incomprehensible but effectively makes
Taehyung feel like Voldemort. Or Orochimaru. Or Shou Tucker. All of them rolled into one.

Yeah, okay, so he knows it isn’t really a big deal. Mandaggo is just some title the two of them
came up with for when they go on V-live to do dumb skits, but as the platonic soulmate (PS) of
Park Jimin, he is aware he’s about to be the victim of some extreme salt.

When Jimin demands an answer from him (saltily indeed), Taehyung just returns lightly that he
needs to work on his standard language and dedicating a V-live series to his hometown dialect is
obviously counter-productive.

What he doesn’t say is that he’s been getting into trouble with the director for his dialect. The Old
Korean that they use in Hwarang is more melodical than standard language, lilting like satoori, and
because of the similarities, Taehyung’s been having difficulty separating it from his Gyeongsang-
do dialect.

It didn’t used to be so bad when he first started filming but lately he’s been getting more nervous
because the important scenes are coming up, and the fact that the drama is becoming more and
more hyped up adds on to the pressure. He wants to do well. He doesn’t want people to talk about
BTS as the typical idols who get roles in dramas because of their fame and not their acting ability.

But his pride gets in the way of confessing all that, so what he does is pretend this is a no-big-deal
decision and let Jimin be his petty and bitter self.

Later that night after the concert, he gets the notification that Jimin’s live on V-app and he turns on
the stream with a smirk, wondering if his buddy’s cursing him out to ARMYs right now. He
watches for a few minutes, laughing to himself as Jimin sulks and rats him out to their fans. Then
Jimin’s doorbell rings and Jungkook’s there in the live too. Taehyung’s smile grows into a full-
blown grin before he forces it down because it’s totally gross to be so happy seeing Jungkook
through a screen when they were literally with each other the whole day.

Taehyung toys with the idea of going over to ambush their live. He really wants to. Then again, it’s
technically Mandaggo and Jimin would be so pissed if he tried to join now.

But when someone rings Jimin’s doorbell again and Jimin tells Jungkook not to open the door if
it’s Taehyung, he makes up his mind. You can’t blame him, that’s pretty much asking for him to
go over, okay, let’s be real here. On screen, Seokjin enters the room with a whole trayful of
ramyeon for them to share so the three of them turn the live into an Eat Jin corner, which is perfect
because now that it’s not Mandaggo, Taehyung is technically free to drop by.

He plasters on his best innocent expression as he grabs his key and saunters off towards Jimin’s
room.

Except he should’ve known that it wouldn’t be so easy. “I’ve turned off the stream already!” Jimin
shouts through the door, refusing to let him in.

Oh. Taehyung wilts. Well that’s lame, there goes his fun for the night.

“Okay,” he calls and trudges back to his room.

As he stands there in front of his bed though, he starts getting suspicious, squinting at his phone.
On second thought, why the hell would Jimin stop so soon, especially with the other two over
there, ready to eat dinner together? He pulls up the app again and rolls his eyes when he sees that
Jimin was lying, that conniving little midget. He snorts at Seokjin and Jimin cackling over Seokjin
forgetting his room key just like Taehyung did yesterday.

The doorbell is getting spammed in the background by virtual Taehyung, which, oh yeah, he
forgets there’s a lag. Jungkook appears from the left of the screen, probably having gone to check
the door, waddling towards the other two. “It’s V-hyung,” he whispers giddily.

“V?” Seokjin asks.

“Shhhh!” Jimin puts his finger to his lips.

“It’s V-hyung,” Jungkook repeats, smiling big enough to show his bunny teeth, all excited about
their little prank. As the doorbell continues to ring though, he seems torn, half-standing instead of
settling down to eat the ramyeon. He rubs his hands over his knees, excitement giving way to
awkwardness. “Don’t you feel bad?” he asks Jimin, and the older explains to Jungkook all over
again why he’s being petty. Jungkook seems unsure, still crouched over, alternating between
glancing at the camera and towards the door.

“Jimin-ah!” virtual Taehyung’s saying through the door.

“Yeah? Who is it?”

“Yoongi!” Taehyung lies blatantly.

“V?”

“Yoongi!”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, laughing. “Yoongi, he said.”

Jimin strings Taehyung along for a while more as he starts digging into the ramyeon with Seokjin,
and Jungkook’s kneeling on the floor now in front of the table but still not eating. A moment of
deliberation later, Jungkook disappears from the camera’s view again, trotting off to the door. But
he returns soon since Taehyung leaves shortly after, and finally joins Seokjin and Jimin to eat.

Having seen enough, Taehyung dashes out of his room again, running over to stab at Jimin’s
doorbell once, hard.

He knows his soulmate isn’t cruel enough to leave him hanging a second time, but he does make
Taehyung dance and bring his own food over before he’s allowed to eat with them. He’s freaking
ravenous, he could eat the entire trayful that Seokjin brought over on top of his own food, but he’s
not that much of a dick. And Jimin and Jungkook would definitely kick his ass if he did.

As he’s slurping up his noodles, Jungkook’s hand suddenly snakes towards him.

“Be careful,” he chides, yanking the collar of Taehyung’s robe closed, covering up his naked chest.

“Oohh~” Taehyung breathes, heart racing. “Giving me the doki-dokis.”

“So,” Jimin cuts in immediately and Taehyung is thankful for the distraction because, um, being
smitten with Jungkook on camera? Not a good idea. “Jungkook scolded V after rehearsal today and
yesterday.”

Taehyung’s lips twitch at the memory. “Yeah, Jungkook, you have your signature line.”

“Say it,” Seokjin demands. Jimin points at Jungkook.

“Do it the same way.”

Seokjin and Jimin both stare at him expectantly with giddy grins, and Jungkook doesn’t give it a
second thought. “V-hyung,” he says flatly, instantly falling into character. Taehyung hums in
question. Jungkook’s eyes bore into the side of his head. “Why do we have rehearsal?”

Jimin and Seokjin immediately burst into laughter at his grim tone.

“Why?” Taehyung plays along, giggling.

“So we won’t make mistakes at our concerts,” Jungkook says matter-of-factly, a corner of his
mouth twitching. “We should try our best during rehearsals. What are we gonna do if we mess up
during the actual thing?”

And Taehyung’s pretending to be unaffected, but exactly as it happened the two times Jungkook
scolded him for real, a small flare of something, indignation, embarrassment at being called out,
(sexual tension, his brain hisses at him) lights up in Taehyung’s chest. Before, he didn’t do
anything about it because Jungkook had a point after all, but right now Taehyung’s in a bit of a
teasing mood.

“Yeah, but you’re the one that messed up during the concert today,” he points out. It comes out a
bit blunt so he makes sure to reach over and ruffle Jungkook’s hair to soften the blow.

“That was on purpose. A treat for ARMYs,” Jungkook retorts, and Taehyung can tell he isn’t
actually bothered because he doesn’t try to swat his hand away.

“A treat?” Taehyung chuckles. And then they start bickering, sniping back and forth at each other
about how, yes, Jungkook totally screwed up, and no he did not, hyung, it was on purpose.
“Stop fighting,” Seokjin groans, poking at them both, so Taehyung stops, beginning to feel a little
self-conscious. He didn’t think of it as fighting at all, they’re always dissing each other and it’s
done in good fun, but maybe other people don’t see it that way. Jungkook tends to get snippier
when it comes to his own mistakes, but by the way the maknae watches him with a teasing curve to
his mouth, playfully prodding at Taehyung’s noodles, he knows Jungkook knows he didn’t mean
anything by it.

They get caught up talking about their delicious food and Taehyung’s idea for his new V-app
corner now that he’s ditching Mandaggo. Jungkook stares at him while Taehyung slurps up his
noodles with his chopsticks held in his palm like the gangsters in Inside Men. Taehyung’s always
thought this makes the noodles taste better.

“Ah, you’re spitting half of the noodles back into the bowl,” Jungkook complains.

Seokjin grimaces. “Woow, I so don’t want to eat with you, why spit it out! I can’t allow this on Eat
Jin!” Taehyung ignores him, smirking to himself as he continues to eat, and then puts the bowl
back down on the table so the others can have a taste too. He waits a couple minutes but none of
them touch it, probably ‘cause they don’t want to eat his spat out noodles, ha. Oh well, more for
him, he figures, so he grabs the bowl for one last bite.

Immediately after he puts it down, Jungkook picks it up and starts inhaling whatever’s left of the
noodles. Taehyung pretends not to notice but he kind of wants to laugh. Okay, bro, pretend you
don’t like my spit, he’s tempted to say. Hyung knows you’re a big fat liar.

As if sensing his amusement, Jungkook glances over at him as noodles disappear into his mouth,
and Taehyung smirks at him.

After the live is over, they drift back to their own rooms. Taehyung falls backwards on his bed and
lies there, splayed out comfortably. He grabs his phone, humming as he scrolls through his social
media. One of his favourite jazz playlists on Spotify has a whole bunch of new tracks, so he plays
through them, downloading the ones he likes.

A notification banner slides down the top of his screen.

Kook: hyung, are you in your room

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. ya, he taps out.

Ten seconds later, his doorbell is ringing and Taehyung gets up with a groan that sounds way too
much like Yoongi, an actual grandpa. He shuffles over to the door in bare feet and opens it without
checking who it is.

“’Sup,” Jungkook says. Taehyung moves aside for him and he saunters in like some kind of king,
making the older snort.

“Whaddaya want, maknae, huh?”

“I’m here for your bed.” Jungkook launches himself on to said bed and spreads out much like how
Taehyung was lying moments ago. “It’s comfy.”

Taehyung flops down beside him. “Your bed is literally the same as mine.”

“No it isn’t.”
“Yeah it is.”

“No.”

“You were bored, weren’t you? Not in the mood to introvert today?”

Jungkook makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a laugh, turning on his side to look
Taehyung in the face. He throws a leg over Taehyung’s. Stares somewhere in the region of his
collarbones before reaching out and poking at the opening of his robe. “Not really.”

Heat rises up Taehyung’s neck and his breaths go shallow, nervous about Jungkook’s hands being
so close to his almost naked chest. The robe’s opened enough to be sort of obscene, but he resists
the urge to close it up.

“Like what you see?” he murmurs. He’s aiming to tease, but his voice comes out deep and his face
feels hot.

Jungkook jumps, snatching his hand back. Taehyung chuckles because staring at someone while
zoned out is one thing, but fondling the opening of someone’s robe while zoned out is, like, a
whole other level.

Jungkook glares up at him with his big eyes. “You should be more careful, Tae. If it weren’t for
me, you would’ve gone full frontal nude in front of the ARMYs today, and you know they’d
screenshot and immortalize it forever and ever.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing. “Okay, I wasn’t full frontal nude. You’re so dramatic.”

“You would’ve gotten there eventually!”

“Aww.” He pinches Jungkook’s cheek. “Not a fan of skin exposure, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with surprising vehemence. “No showing skin for you, Tae.”

“What, so it’s okay for the others?” Jungkook shrugs. “What about Jimin?”

The younger stares at him like Taehyung’s asked him a math question. “I don’t care. Jimin-hyung
is kind of a show-off anyway.”

Taehyung frowns, looking down at himself. He doesn’t have the buffness of Mr. Gym Rat here or
the somewhat erotic curves of Jimin’s body, but there’s still notable muscle definition, kind of
inevitable as a growing young man who dances for a career. And his skin is nice and smooth, if he
says so himself.

“I mean, I don’t work out like you do ‘cause not everyone likes sweating like a pig, but—”

“No, hyung.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “That’s not—that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean then?” Taehyung asks, lowkey offended. He was under the impression
that Jungkook sort of had a thing for his body, what with the way he ogles or touches him
sometimes, and didn’t it happen once that Jungkook said he had the body of a man or something?

Jungkook groans loudly. He grabs Taehyung by the waist and yanks them together, pressing his
face against Taehyung’s bare chest. Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat. Jungkook mutters
something that he doesn’t catch.

“What?” he asks.
Jungkook huffs angrily. Goosebumps break out on Taehyung’s skin, and he hopes the younger
can’t hear his frantic heartbeat. “You—other people shouldn’t look at you,” Jungkook mumbles,
stilted. He draws Taehyung even closer and oh god, are those lips on him right now? Is Jungkook
kissing his chest? Taehyung’s gonna die, he’s gonna die right this instant, rest in peace, if Jimin
doesn’t delete his browser history for him he’s gonna become a ghost and haunt his ass forever.

“I-I don’t—” Taehyung stammers. He pushes Jungkook far enough away to look at him properly
because he can’t think and he really needs to. That’s possessiveness he hears, isn’t it? It totally is.
“You, um. You sound like you’re jealous, Jungkookie.”

“Shut up.”

He isn’t denying it. Now Taehyung’s sure he’s having a stroke. Or dreaming. He concentrates on
breathing like a normal human being without lung problems. His middle name is Zen. He is the
epitome of calm. He’s not gonna let some brat rile him up.

“You’re like a little kid,” he chuckles, petting Jungkook on the head. Jungkook pouts and holds on
to his glower, but his lashes flutter as Taehyung strokes his hair. “Don’t like sharing your hyungs,
hmm?”

Jungkook’s lips part, and he whispers something so quietly Taehyung isn’t sure he didn’t imagine
it.

But it sounded awfully like “just you.”

As arrogant as this might come off, one of the sad things about gaining popularity is the growing
distance between them and their fans. Taehyung still remembers like it was yesterday their first fan
meeting, a warm summer night in 2013 at an empty shopping area after hours. Only thirty, maybe
forty people showed up, but Bangtan was thrilled nevertheless because it was a mere two weeks
after debut, and those thirty people took time out of their day to come see them. Not for the hype,
not to see celebrities. Just to support them as the group they were, and whether the reason was their
music or concept or if they simply thought the boys were cute, it didn’t matter. Taehyung felt good
being liked, seeing in person the fans who cheer them on so passionately online.

Nowadays, he only recognizes the fans who’ve been around for a while or those who come to
every event, and tries not to feel overwhelmed by the seas of people he doesn’t know but who
scream and cry when he approaches. The one thing he can do is look into the fancams that he’s
able to spot, hoping it’ll brighten someone’s day.

They don’t really receive gifts anymore except the ones handed to them during fan meetings. Not
that fans don’t send them, but Big Hit has started prohibiting most gifts for safety reasons, and
simply because there are too many. Taehyung doesn’t mind, he doesn’t want ARMYs to spend
excessive amounts of money on him anyway. They already buy so many albums for a better chance
at winning the raffle to attend meets and stuff.

The letters though, their managers try to keep as many of them as possible, filling up a whole room
in the Big Hit building with boxes and boxes of them for each member. Sometimes when he’s
bored or feeling under the weather, Taehyung will drop by and lug a box back to their dorm, and if
he finds a particularly touching letter, he’ll post it on social media and thank the writer.

Today’s one of those days where he’s ready for some extra lovin'. When he told the group chat he
was dropping by the office for a box, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok ask him to bring some back for
them too. The manager helps him carry them up to their apartment. The other three come charging
over when they set them down at the entrance.

“It’s time for a letter party!” Hoseok shouts, grabbing his box. “Meet up in our room!”

“This was a great idea, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin praises him, rubbing his shoulder. “We haven’t read
any in a while, I’m so excited!”

“I know, right, I have the best ideas. Let’s go.”

As Taehyung slips his shoes off, Jungkook grabs both of their boxes, one in each arm, and marches
off towards the trio’s room. Taehyung snickers. Showing off his strength again, silly guy.

“Ah, this is the tenth one calling me ‘Jungkook-oppa.’”

Hoseok snort-giggles. “Why does it sound like you’re complaining?”

“I’m not,” Jungkook insists, undeniably whiny. He slips the letter back into its envelope and moves
on to a new one, carefully pulling at the tab so he doesn’t rip the pink paper. “It’s just...why do
they call me oppa when they’re older than me? I don’t get it.”

“Hey, you never know!” Jimin pipes up. “There’s lots of younger ARMYs lately, I bet a bunch of
them could actually call you oppa.”

“I guess...”

Hoseok slaps his knee, chortling at Jungkook’s disgruntled expression. “Why’re you so offended?
You know what the ladies say, right, any guy who’s good-looking is an oppa. It’s a compliment!”

“That’s ‘cause Jungkookie doesn’t like being oppa, he likes being baby,” Taehyung coos, slinging
an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Isn’t that right?”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I’m not a baby,” he says resolutely, tough and manly and it might’ve
been believable if his ears didn’t start to redden.

“Awwwwwwww!” Hoseok and Jimin say at the same time, the latter launching himself into
Jungkook’s lap and clinging to his legs. “Don’t worry, Kookie, you’ll always be our baby!”
Jungkook just sits there with a suppressed smile and lets them all cuddle him, Hoseok ruffling his
hair, Taehyung nuzzling his cheek.

“Stop, it’s hot,” he complains after letting them get their fill. They laugh and release him, except
for Jimin who stays sprawled over his legs as he continues to read his letters. Taehyung reaches for
his next one, ripping it open with much less finesse than Jungkook does.

He chose this one because it was interesting, a plain white envelope with his name typed instead of
handwritten in pretty, curly characters.

But as he reads the contents, he feels the blood drain from his face.

Stay the fuck away from Jungkook-oppa, you freak, says the first line, and he’s almost afraid to
keep going, but his eyes flash down like they have a mind of their own.

Always touching him and hanging all over him like some sort of possessive girlfriend, can’t you see
how fucking uncomfortable he is? I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better back the
fuck off. You can’t sing or dance either so just disappear already, pathetic asshole. BTS doesn’t
need someone talentless like you.

Taehyung reads it twice, so shocked he feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience. The
words aren’t sinking in fully but he quickly shoves the piece of paper back into the envelope and
throws it in his read pile. He stares into his box blankly, trying to wrap his mind around what he
just saw. His stomach twinges when he sees similar envelopes. There’s more of them. White with
his name typed on the front. There’s more.

“Taetae?”

Jimin peers up at him from where he’s still draped over Jungkook’s legs.

“Y-Yeah?”

“You okay? You’re making a weird face.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” He forces a smile. “I’m good.”

“Okay...?”

“I think I’m gonna...I’m gonna go to the studio. I forgot something there.”

The others echo affirmative noises and Taehyung makes a cursory attempt to gather up his stuff if
only so they don’t go snooping through it, dropping the piles of letters into his box. Instead of
calling a manager to take him to the studio, he decides to pull on a cap and mask to walk.

It’ll be good to clear his mind.

You’d think that it would get easier, this whole receiving hate and death threats thing after three
years of being an idol. And on some level, it does. When Taehyung gets criticized for his dancing
or live singing, it hurts in the exact same way, just as strong as when they first debuted. But he’s
also gotten better at letting the negativity slide off of him or using it as fuel to improve himself.
Over the years, Yoongi in particular has given him lots of tips on how to let go of the bad feelings.
Sometimes Taehyung is struck with admiration for his hyung for not only being so emotionally
strong, but also being so self-aware.

So yeah, Taehyung’s gotten somewhat better at ignoring the hate. This is the first time he’s
received it for his relationship with Jungkook though. It hits differently, makes him scared and
guilty, because...well, they’re right, aren’t they? There’s truth in their concern.

Dread coils tight and hard in his gut just thinking about what the letter said. He knows Jungkook is
far from uncomfortable with their physical closeness, but the letter proves his own fears. He and
Jungkook aren’t allowed to be together. How many times do they have to go through this cycle
before Taehyung can finally accept it?

He kicks at a rock on the sidewalk, watching it bounce on to the empty road. There’s less
devastation than he might’ve expected, letting himself go down this train of thought. Probably, it
just hasn’t hit him yet, and that’s a good thing for now. He’s listened to so many love songs, read
so many cheesy romance novels, watched even more over-dramatic movies about love and how
the happiness it brings shares sides of a coin with misery. Maybe he’s felt that misery already,
though he still isn’t sure what love actually is. The little while after Jungkook rejected his kiss, he
thought he might physically fall ill from heartbreak. What’ll it be like this time then? Better?
Worse?

Not that it matters. If suffering for a while is what he has to do for Jungkook and the hyungs,
Taehyung can do it. This is the least he can do if it’s for his family of six.

The sidewalk stretches far ahead like his thoughts do, aimless and unending and he has no idea
where he’s trying to go. There’s no point in heading to the studio since he didn’t actually forget
anything there, but where else can he go? He doesn’t want to stray too far, it’s dangerous,
especially alone and he’s not trying to worry anyone.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Taehyung lets himself ignore it for a few minutes before he sighs,
feeling bad enough to fish it out.

To his surprise, it’s not a message from any of the members or managers. Instead, Minho is asking
when he’s free and if he’d like to hang out. His chest feels a little lighter at that.

You: actually im free right now hyung

Minho-hyung: Oh, yeah? Great timing, so am I! Do you wanna grab lunch together or something?

You: sure i don’t have a schedule until the afternoon so lunch works :)

The thought of meeting up with his hyung helps Taehyung let go of the negativity for a while, this
stupid darkness that threatens to drag him down if he’s not careful. And maybe it’s not just the
Jungkook thing making him feel this way. He hasn’t felt good lately to begin with, with the
pressure of the drama, comeback, all these other sources of anxiety working together at the same
time. Seeing Minho feels like a lifeboat right now. The reason Taehyung came outside was to clear
his head, after all. Not for the first time, he’s relieved and grateful for the people in his life.

They end up at a quiet little Italian restaurant since Minho’s apparently been craving some good ol’
authentic spaghetti, but none of his guy friends were willing to go with him because the place’s
romantic vibes are too much for them or something, and as an idol, he can’t exactly come to a
place like this with his female friends. Taehyung has to admit he feels a bit awkward sitting alone
with Minho with a candle between the two of them, but whatever. Good food is good food and
Taehyung is beyond caring at this point.

“Did you see our Hwarang chat?” Minho is asking, clearly amused. “The others were cursing me
out for hanging with you without them.”

“Really?” Taehyung chuckles. “Aw, now I feel bad. We should all get dinner after wrap-up one
day.”

“Oh pleeaase, it’s not our fault this was so last minute. The dinner thing would probably be a good
idea though, I do not want to deal with a sulky Seojoon-hyung or pissed off Hyungsik. They
messaged me privately, you know, all like ‘stop hogging our maknae damn you,’ it was fucking
hilarious.”

Taehyung feels his smile go shy. Man, it’s like everywhere he goes he’s got a bunch of big brothers
looking out for him. It’s great, really great.

“So what’ve you been up to lately?” Minho asks, sipping his wine. “Are you guys busy?”
“Yeah, we’ve been flying around a lot. It’s tiring, but, you know.” He shrugs.

“Right, you just got back from Beijing, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Minho goes quiet for a bit, swirling his glass. Then he puts it down with a quiet clank. “Taehyung-
ah. I—it’s obvious you’re stressed from Hwarang stuff lately, and, like. Okay, sorry, I’m not good
at this,” he motions around vaguely and Taehyung nods, encouraging him to go on. Minho sighs. “I
get that it’s hard, but hang in there, all right? Don’t let those two scenes get to you, they’re very
emotionally charged but you can’t let the pressure drag you down. Director Yoon really likes you,
if you need advice you can always go to him, he’d be happy to help.”

Taehyung doesn’t notice he’s playing with his fork until the sound of it accidentally hitting his
plate makes him jerk. He puts it down, laying his hands in his lap instead. He didn’t know he was
being so obvious about his stress, and now he’s starting to wonder if this is the real reason Minho
wanted to see him.

“Thank you, hyung,” he mumbles. “That means a lot. It’s just—I wanna do well.”

Minho barks out a laugh. “Of course you do, who doesn’t? We’re in the same boat, Taehyung-ah.
Nobody can nail every scene without an NG. You have to remember that our mistakes are
reversible. If anyone’s unhappy with anything, it’s just a matter of trying again.” He smacks
Taehyung on the shoulder, a little too hard. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“Okay.” Taehyung smiles up at him, refusing to let his voice wobble in public. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Nah, no need. So have you heard the latest gossip about our Super Junior sunbaenims? It’s lit.”

“No one says lit anymore, hyung, that’s so last year. You’re getting old.”

“Shut up, you’re literally, like, four years younger than me.”

“Which is a lot.”

“Hey!”

The food turns out to be delicious and Taehyung considers ordering extra to bring home for the
members, but pasta never tastes as good reheated and he thinks everyone’s probably eaten already
anyway.

They take a couple selfies, sending them to both the Hwarang and BTS group chats before getting
up to leave. Minho drove to the restaurant so he offers to give Taehyung a ride back to the dorms,
which he gratefully accepts.

His full stomach makes him sleepy and the drive back is long, so he finds himself accidentally on
the verge of dozing off even though Minho is rambling on about something.

“—so after the break-up I never really got into dating again, and you know how it is, relationships
as an idol,” Minho is saying, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing emphatically. “Just
doesn’t work.”
Taehyung is suddenly wide awake. His stomach roils.

“Wait, what?” he croaks, gaping at his hyung’s side profile. “You were in a relationship?”

“Oh, yeah.” Minho looks sheepish. “I guess I never mentioned it, huh? I dated a female idol for
three or so years.”

”What?” Taehyung sits up straighter. He can’t seem to be able to close his mouth. “Three years?
Seriously? Did anyone know?”

“Nope. Only the other Shinee members.”

“Who was it?”

Minho shoots him a glance out of the corner of his eye, smiling ruefully. “Mmm...sorry,
Taehyungie, not that I don’t want to tell you, but I think it might be better if I don’t say.”

“Oh! Oh, sorry, you don’t have to, I was just...really curious.”

“Eh, it’s fine, I don’t mind but I don’t know if she would, so.”

Taehyung nods. His arms cross over his chest as he digests this frankly mind-blowing little tidbit.
Typically, dating rumours get around quickly between idols. When one of them is interested in
someone, the news tends to spread, maybe because most of them are connected in some way,
whether it’s through their companies or some kind of show, variety or music or radio. Taehyung
can’t believe he knew nothing about a whole relationship of a member of one of the biggest groups
in K-pop history.

“Umm, how did you keep it a secret?” he asks, picking at the skin under his nail. He sees Minho
shrug out of his periphery.

“We were careful. We’d hang out in groups if we were in public, and we never went on dates in
places we could get caught. Our SM sunbaenims gave us lots of insider info about how to date
under the radar.” Taehyung ooh’s and ahh’s at that, gazing at him in admiration. Minho’s smirk
turns into something a little sadder. “But it couldn’t last. We weren’t strong enough to keep up with
that kind of carefulness.” He exhales, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s tiring, you know, at the
end of the day. There’s so much you gotta sacrifice and it’s easy to get insecure about your
relationship, especially when you’re surrounded by, well. Beautiful and eligible people all day
errday.”

“I see,” Taehyung says, for once at a loss of things to say. “I guess most idol relationships don’t
survive, do they?”

“I mean, I’m not saying it’s impossible. But it’s hard, for sure.”

They stop at a red light and Minho turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised. “Why, are you
interested in someone? Hey, don’t let me stop you. I happened to break up with my girlfriend but
that shouldn’t keep you from living your life, y’know?” Something about Taehyung’s expression
makes Minho’s face soften and he reaches out to clap Taehyung on the shoulder. “You should have
fun at your age. If you don’t get attached, you never have to worry about getting hurt.”

Taehyung smiles weakly, nodding in acknowledgment.

Too bad it’s way too late for that.

They’re waiting around in the VIP lounge at Manila’s NAIA Airport when a loud gasp makes
Taehyung squint an eye open, frowning at the interruption to his nap. Namjoon, Seokjin, and
Hoseok are huddled around someone’s phone and Jungkook’s sitting on the couch across from
them, looking harassed. Hoseok’s laughter pierces through the air. Seokjin elbows him, thrusting
his chin towards Yoongi who’s making like a corpse on the other side of the lounge, emanating a
threatening aura in his state of unconsciousness. Hoseok shrinks in on himself with a quiet
‘whoops’ but quickly turns to Jungkook with sparkling eyes.

“Jungkookie!” he whisper-shrieks, reaching over to smack the maknae’s knee. “Is this true? Are
these girls actually your exes?”

Jungkook groans, bending over and cupping his hands over his ears. “Stooop.”

“Wow, they’re really pretty,” Namjoon marvels. “Like, this one’s the cute type and this one’s the
beautiful type.”

Taehyung twitches. He wonders if now’s a good time to stop feigning sleep because he’s really,
really curious. There was this rumour when they first debuted that Jungkook had a girlfriend, but
he never properly answered when the hyungs teasingly asked and they weren’t close enough back
then to feel comfortable prying into his private life yet.

He squints the other eye open too, although that does absolutely nothing because he doesn’t have
x-ray vision and can’t magically look through the phone to see the screen on the other side.
Shocking.

“Hey, not as pretty as us,” Seokjin cuts in.

“Hyung, why are you trying to compete with Jungkook’s ex-girlfriends?”

“Hey Namjoon,” Hoseok pokes him. “What was that word you taught us again the other day? In
Japanese?”

“What? Which one?”

“It was men-something. You know, people who only date pretty faces.”

“Oh, you mean menkui. Wait.” Namjoon bursts out in laughter. “Are you calling Jungkook a
menkui? HAHAHA Hoseok-ah! You savage!”

“Hey!” Jungkook bolts upright, glaring at Hoseok. “That—that’s not true!”

Seokjin gasps. “You’re right, he’s totally a menkui. Why’d he never fall for me then?”

“Ew, you’re, like, literally my brother, Jin-hyung.”

“Hey, that ew was unnecessary!”

“Well, he did fall f—” Namjoon’s eyes go wide and he visibly swallows his words. “I mean,
nothing. Never mind.”

“So you did date them?” Seokjin presses, snatching up Hoseok’s phone and frantically scrolling.
“What’s a fetus doing thinking he can go around dating people, huh?”

Jungkook covers his face with another tortured groan. “Hyung, come on! You know what middle
school dating is like, it doesn’t even count! I was just curious or whatever!”
Before they can dissolve into an actual argument, the PA announces their flight and Namjoon
quickly gets to his feet, going around tapping Yoongi and Taehyung and demanding to know where
Jimin ran off to. Taehyung pretends to wake, stretching exaggeratedly. Hoseok and Seokjin are still
tittering to each other while Jungkook looks mildly disgruntled as he pulls his bucket hat low over
his head.

Taehyung takes his time to pat down his pockets, making sure he has everything before grabbing
his carry-on bag. By the time he’s done, the others have wandered off towards the exit, all except
for Jungkook who’s lingering in front of the hallway that leads outside, entranced by his phone.

Taehyung makes to brush past him but as soon as he gets close, Jungkook puts his phone away and
falls into step beside Taehyung.

“Sleep well?” Jungkook asks, lilting, grinning cheekily in that way he does whenever he’s taken a
picture of Taehyung sleeping with his mouth open or something and is all excited to show him.

“Mm-hm.”

Jungkook’s smile dims by a fraction but doesn’t disappear. His eyes trail over Taehyung as if he’s
checking for injury, bright and questioning. “You okay, hyung? Tired?”

Taehyung glances up at him, takes in his soft half-smile and tilted head.

It doesn’t even count! rings through Taehyung’s asshole of a brain. I was just curious or whatever!

“I’m fine,” he says, looking away. Jungkook makes a noise like he’s about to protest but
Taehyung’s saved by Jimin suddenly jumping on Jungkook’s back with a whoop of excitement.

“Jungkookie, check out what I found!” He shouts, one arm outstretched to show Jungkook one of
his favourite snacks that he was whining about wanting earlier, some cookie-stick thing that
they’ve only seen in the Phillippines so far. Jungkook gasps, snatching it from him and Jimin
knocks his knuckles on his head. “Not even a thank you!”

“Thank you, Jiminie-hyung,” Jungkook recites obediently. The hand not holding his prize is
wrapped around Jimin’s thigh, making sure he doesn’t fall, so he pokes the snack back in the
direction of the elder’s face. “Can you open it for me?”

“You’re gonna eat it now?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.”

“Okay. Here.” Jimin tears open the wrapper and nudges the cookie against Jungkook’s mouth, who
takes a bite and sings a happy mmm. “Taehyung-ah, I bought some for you too! You like these,
right?”

Taehyung smiles, taking the proffered snack. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He watches Jungkook wander off with Jimin on his back, Jimin chattering about the loads of
yummy food he saw when he went to explore the VIP food area, both of their voices going high in
their debate of what’s good or not.

It makes Taehyung sad to think that Jungkook will be okay without him, but also glad that he has
an amazing hyung like Jimin to take care of him. And four other hyungs who love him more than
anything too, on top of that.
 And that’s what makes up Taehyung’s mind: knowing Jungkook will be just fine. He’ll move on
because he’s strong and they’re all too good to let something like this come between the band.

It’s time, he tells himself.

Chapter End Notes

the next chapter will prob be up already by the time ur reading this, it's a super short
one that was originally part of this one, but i felt more comfortable separating it :)
 Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

as promised, the short chapter!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

If Taehyung’s being honest, he knew from the beginning that this day would come. The problem
was how long he would let himself procrastinate for, how selfish he could be before growing up.

Jungkook might be shocked. Maybe to him, this will have come out of nowhere even though, it’s
something that’s been weighing on the back of Taehyung's mind the whole time, growing louder
and shriller the longer he forgives himself for being with Jungkook.

The letter, the conversation with Minho, the reminder that Jungkook could be just as happy with a
girl, those things weren’t to blame. They were only the triggers for something he had already
vaguely planned in his head. Exactly what he needed to bring himself back to reality.

Jungkook seems to like Taehyung, but it’s not love, not yet. He won’t be breaking Jungkook’s
heart—he’ll be saving his future. People are starting to catch on to them, they probably have now
for a while, and Sejin has given them both enough unreadable looks that Taehyung knows Big Hit
is worried.

Still, even though Taehyung knows he’s put this off for long enough already, he considers waiting
until they finish up their tour and are back in Korea, not wanting to spring anything on Jungkook
when they’re stuck somewhere far from home and in between concerts. But the more he drags this
out, the more he can’t stand being around Jungkook, knowing what he’s about to do. And
Jungkook can tell he’s off because Taehyung’s being obvious about it, he isn’t good enough to
hide that something inside him is burning out, turning to ashes. Whenever Jungkook comes to sit
next to him, pressing up against his side, he can’t help but stiffen and subtly move away. The few
times that Jungkook rings the doorbell of his hotel room at night, he ignores it entirely, pretending
to be asleep. Jungkook tries not to show it but Taehyung can see the hurt when he shows up to
breakfast the next day and Jungkook steers clear of him.

He feels like the lowest of the low. He just wants the best for Jungkook but all he ever does is hurt
him.

They’re somewhere in Japan now, Tokyo probably, god, Taehyung has no idea. The days have
been passing in a haze. Last night, he had a dream where he and Bang PD sat alone in a paper-
white room, staring at each other across a table without saying a word and it lasted for hours and
hours. He’s on the verge of losing his mind and he’s pretty sure that at this point, Jungkook would
prefer to get whatever this is over with anyway. So Taehyung texts him, asking him to come to his
room after dinner.

Usually, Taehyung welcomes the sound of a knock on his door. This time, it’s a death knell, as
dramatic as that may be. He knows already how easy it will be to ruin the one thing he finally had
after wanting for so long. All it will take is a few words and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. It’s
disheartening.
He opens the door. Jungkook looks like he’s doing his best impression of a marble statue.
Taehyung almost smiles, though his hands are shaking. Jungkook’s always been that way, trying so
hard to appear stoic and unaffected, and Jimin often says that he has an amazing poker face.

Taehyung disagrees, though. Jungkook isn’t good at acting unaffected. It’s easy to see when he’s
bothered by something; what he’s good at is hiding what that something is. His face and body
betray him but the causes behind his sadness, frustration, anger, those are the things he guards with
his life. The members know him so well but even with all these years of experience with the inner
workings of their maknae, sometimes they can’t figure out why he does some of the things he does.
Jeon Jungkook’s motivations, his struggles, his affections. Those are the things they can’t fully
grasp, because Jungkook has never freely offered that information.

They stay standing there, door closed but neither making a move into the room. Taehyung can’t
feel his legs and Jungkook seems ready to bolt.

“Jungkook-ah,” he says softly. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting lately. It wasn’t very nice or
hyung-like of me.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, staring at something past Taehyung’s shoulder. He nods once.

“I’m gonna cut right to the chase then, okay?”

Another nod.

“I think we—” Taehyung takes a deep breath. “I think we should stop this.”

Jungkook’s eyes fall to the floor. He doesn’t move a single muscle.

He doesn’t seem surprised.

Taehyung waits, gives him the chance to reply, even if it’s something scathing. But nothing comes
so he just keeps going, he has to.

“Um. I’m sorry, I know it’s sudden. And I know I—you probably think I’m being flaky, and I
don’t have an excuse for that. But I just. I just don’t think we should...do this.”

Still, Jungkook says nothing. His shoulders droop in what can only be defeat. Taehyung is filled
with a sudden need to explain himself.

“I really like you, Jungkookie, you have to believe that I do. But I don’t think this can last. Maybe
you’re confused, or curious. I’ve—we’ve been so close to each other all these years, bu—”

“Why?” Jungkook cuts in.

“I...what?”

“Why don’t you think it’ll last?” Jungkook finally looks up, eyes hard. “Why not?”

Taehyung struggles for words. He can barely hear over the rush of blood in his ears. “W-We’re
idols. We’re in the same group, we’re both men. You—your feelings aren’t that deep yet, we can
still stop before this gets too far.”

The laugh that Jungkook lets out makes Taehyung flinch back, wounded. A mean, belittling laugh.

Then Jungkook’s eyes drop to the ground again. “Okay,” he says.

 Taehyung can’t see his face but his fists are clenched, his chest moving quickly with his breaths.
It’s clear that he’s struggling to rein in his emotions but Taehyung doesn’t know what those
emotions are. Maybe he doesn’t want to know. He’s scared of finding out. He can’t afford anything
that will make him give in to the urge clawing at him to take everything back.

“I get it, hyung,” Jungkook says, and it’s with finality this time.

Despite being the one to orchestrate this entire mess, there’s heat behind Taehyung’s eyes, and his
back pricks with cold sweat. He’s having trouble breathing, all of a sudden. To his horror, he feels
a sob rise in his throat when Jungkook lifts his face. He stares at Taehyung with so much hurt that
it looks a little bit like hatred.

And it’s not really the kisses that Taehyung will miss the most. It’s the way Jungkook’s eyes find
him first in a crowd, or how he’ll smile and laugh at his other hyungs’ antics but his nose will
scrunch up quickest when it’s Taehyung doing something dumb. When Jungkook finds peace in
falling asleep wrapped up in his arms, when he stares at Taehyung across the stage like Taehyung’s
the best thing he’s ever seen. Not the kissing itself, but the way he melts under Taehyung’s hands
when they do.

That’s what Taehyung will miss most.

But the world can’t bend to fit to his wants and needs, so he lets Jungkook turn and leave the room.

Chapter End Notes

thank u for reading! if u get the chance, would love to hear ur thoughts!
 Chapter 12
Chapter Notes

omg i am so sorry this took forever, i wanted to have this out by our dear kookie's bday
BUT I SPENT TOO FKING LONG EDITING IT, AT LEAST ITS LONG RIGHT???

See the end of the chapter for more notes

When Jungkook meets Kim Taehyung for the first time, he blurts out “whoa” and stares at him
with his mouth open for a solid five seconds, because preteen Jungkook is awkward as heck and
Kim Taehyung has the cutest smile he’s ever seen in his entire life.

There are people like Seokjin in this world: conventionally good-looking, what the industry calls
the standard SM Entertainment face. And Jungkook admires Seokjin’s looks, he does. Their oldest
hyung seems like the only adult in their group of lanky boys with pretentious haircuts, and there’s a
charisma to him, the way he’s cold and mature and prince-like.

But he doesn’t have whatever it is that makes Jungkook want to gaze at Taehyung for hours on
end. Is it the perfect symmetry of his face or the jawline that could cut glass? The sharpness of his
gaze that instantly disappears when he grins?

Or is it the way he grins at Jungkook, specifically, that he’s obsessed with?

In any case, Kim Taehyung is a puzzle that Jungkook can’t figure out because one moment he’s
bouncing off the walls, dragging everyone into his orbit, and the next, he’s skulking around the
edges of the room, lost in his own world. Sometimes all he’s doing is standing there and despite his
age, his skinny frame, every now and then, Taehyung screams intimidation.

If Jungkook said this to anyone, they’d probably tell him that’s just Taehyung’s resting bitch face,
but he thinks it’s more than that. This is where the puzzle part comes in because Taehyung is
devastatingly soft, he hunches up his shoulders when he giggles, and when a careless comment hits
one of his sore spots, he makes a kicked-puppy face that’s sad enough to make Jungkook want to
cry. But he’s also tough enough to say and do whatever he wants, no matter how weird.
Taehyung’s barely older than Jungkook but has the strength to be Jungkook’s emotional pillar,
always doing his best to make him feel safe and comfortable. He’s almost shamelessly confident
sometimes too and it’s not the same confidence as when wimps who are insecure pull on a mask to
protect themselves from the world, like Jungkook does—Taehyung simply is.

Maybe the company encourages him to keep up his boisterous, 4D alien image in front of the
cameras, but it’s not like that part of his personality is fake, and neither is the part where he
occasionally goes quiet and broods. Taehyung really is just a mix of everything, he’s unique, he
thinks differently. He’s free.

At first, Jungkook attributes his interest in Taehyung to the contrast between their personalities. Or
like, wonder and admiration for Taehyung’s extroversion. Actually, in the very beginning, he’s
intimidated by the older boy, unsure if he’s one of those people who are hot one second and cold
the next. Like those kids at school who get all up in your face with friendliness, and then as soon
as they lose interest or find out you’re unworthy of their attention, they pretend you don’t exist. Or
he could be one of those backstabbers you can’t help but meet as a trainee who act nice but snatch
up the good parts without guilt, and immediately throw you under the bus if it means they have a
better chance at debuting.

But Jungkook discovers quickly that he’s wrong because while Taehyung may go quiet every so
often, coming off cold, even, he never rejects Jungkook’s presence. Taehyung will be sitting with
his arms over the back of the couch, legs spread wide, head tilted in that imposing way (which
Jungkook later finds out is just him spacing out, talk about plot twists), but if Jungkook sits next to
him he’ll pull the younger into his side, warm and welcoming despite not being in the mood to
socialize.

In the period before their debut, Jungkook isn’t very popular amongst his fellow Big Hit trainees.
He can’t blame them. He’s so shy it hurts, afraid to talk to anyone who doesn’t approach him first,
including the nice ones like Jimin or the cool ones like Rap Monster. Plus, a lot of them seem scary
in that fake way anyway so although he’s lonely, there’s no immediate urge for him to make
friends.

They dislike him even more after the first few times he scores well for both singing and dancing,
glaring at him in groups from the corners of the practice room, and he feels so stuck sometimes
even if he’s not dying to be friends with anyone. What do they want from him? He has to do well.
He does his best every time because this is what he wants to do, and he doesn’t want to let down
his parents who believe in him, gave him the chance to live his dream. There’s no way he’s gonna
slack off or tone down his try-hardness just because people call him a show-off. (These are the
things he tells himself when he’s curled up in bed, missing Busan and wondering if he really is that
unlikeable, his self-doubt surfacing in the safety of nighttime, asking himself if he should just go
home.)

And again, Taehyung proves himself beyond Jungkook’s expectations. His enthusiasm doesn’t
seem faked, as far as Jungkook can tell. Taehyung isn’t turned off by the ‘well-rounded,’
‘favoured’ trainee that people are jealous of—in fact, he seems to like Jungkook even more
because Jungkook’s good at stuff.

“You have such a nice voice,” he says to Jungkook after practice one day, eyes twinkling. “You’re,
like, so good at controlling it.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says. He has no idea how to react to such naked awe. It’s new and pretty
mortifying, honestly, but Jungkook’s also a sucker for compliments. He rolls his lips between his
teeth, glancing off towards the mirror wall so he doesn’t have to look Taehyung in the eye. “T-
thanks. You—um. You have a nice voice too.”

Taehyung laughs like it’s a joke. Jungkook frowns, looking back up at him. “I meant that,” he says
quietly. “It—uh. Ballads. You sing them really nice. Your low notes and stuff.”

Taehyung stares at him for a moment. And then his face breaks into a smile so bright that
Jungkook immediately has to look away again.

Taehyung’s cute, like a puppy. And cool, and handsome, and funny, and most of all, very kind.
One time, Jungkook comes down with a sore throat, and minutes before their monthly evaluation is
set to begin, Taehyung finds out. The panic on his face, Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.
Nor how Taehyung rushes off to the nearby pharmacy to buy him cough drops and nearly makes it
back late for his own evaluation, even though Taehyung would’ve ranked higher than him in
vocals that month if he didn’t.

Jungkook isn’t old enough yet to understand the rarity of unconditional, genuine relationships in
this industry, but he’s smart enough to be glad Taehyung’s in his life.
Jungkook likes him. He likes a lot of things about Taehyung.

“Why are—hey, Jungkookie, you’re shivering.”

Taehyung scoots closer across the car seat to press their thighs together, as if to test the temperature
difference. Jungkook twitches away from him.

“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” he grits out through chattering teeth.

He’s in a shitty mood. He woke up feeling shitty from lack of sleep, plus the heating in their van is
freaking broken, plus he’s been feeling pathetically homesick lately, as he usually gets around
Christmas time. Christmas was a big deal in his family, his parents always bought a cake to
celebrate and played their roles well enough that he and his brother believed in Santa Claus for an
embarrassingly long time. He even spent a few days with them last year when he was still a trainee,
though he had to beg the managers. He misses his family.

Still, no matter how crappy he’s feeling, he shouldn’t have been so mean to a person who was only
worried about him. Jungkook instantly regrets his tone but Taehyung doesn’t even seem to have
heard him, frowning as he pats around his pockets. His face lights up when he finds whatever he
was looking for, and then he presses close, pulling at Jungkook’s collar and dropping a hot pack
right down his back.

Jungkook jumps. As the heat starts to spread up his spine, he melts into the seat.

“Feel better?” Taehyung asks. His voice is quiet. It might be because the rest of the members are
asleep around them, now that they’re finally getting driven back to the dorms after a long day. But
Jungkook has noticed recently that Taehyung talks to him like that a lot, soft and gentle. Normally,
he’d be offended, except he knows Taehyung doesn’t mean to treat him like a kid or some
frightened animal. He was the only one who didn’t walk on eggshells around Jungkook when they
first met, the others seeming unsure of how to treat him, not wanting to scare their youngest. And
Jungkook can’t fault them because he was sort of nervous all the time back then. It’s just that
Taehyung couldn’t be bothered with details like that and instead launched straight into adopting
him, and to this day, Jungkook hasn’t figured out if it was just Taehyung being himself or if he did
it on purpose because he knew Jungkook would be more comfortable accepting friendship rather
than seeking it out. Taehyung’s smart when it comes to people, after all. Or at least Jungkook
thinks so. He’s really good at making friends.

The reminder of how good Taehyung’s always been to him makes him feel even guiltier for being
snappy. He nods belatedly, looking down at his lap.

Taehyung nods back, satisfied. He takes off his earmuffs and moves to plant those over Jungkook’s
head too, but Jungkook dodges. “You’ll get cold, I’m fine already.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue and scowls exaggeratedly at him. “Be good and let hyung take care of
you,” he scolds.

Jungkook considers being rebellious for a moment just for the hell of it, but he lets his arms fall
back to his sides. He watches Taehyung’s stern expression melt into one of his huge, squinty-eyed
smiles as he adjusts the earmuffs and pats Jungkook’s cheeks with his mittened hands. “There!
Can’t let our cute maknae get sick, can we?”

“’m sixteen already, not a baby,” Jungkook mutters, turning towards the window quickly.
Undeterred by his aloofness, Taehyung takes his hand, squeezing it, and Jungkook lets him hold it
as they continue the drive down the Seoul streets.

“Sixteen’s a baby age, you know,” Taehyung coos. Jungkook ignores him.

Occasionally, Taehyung reminds him of his brother. Junghyun also looked out for Jungkook a lot,
though he wasn’t as mushy about it, and both Junghyun and Taehyung act like idiots most of the
time but then will randomly say things that make Jungkook go, “wow, I didn’t think of that.”

Most of the time though, Taehyung is more like a same-age friend. The two of them game all night
when they don’t have schedules the next day, and they sneak out to the grocery store together,
pooling their allowances for snacks even though they’re supposed to be eating healthy. When they
learn stuff, like complicated dance moves or new board games the members jacked from their
homes, often Jungkook is the one to guide Taehyung, and Taehyung never gets offended or acts
like he feels inferior for it, unlike how most older people would.

It’s confusing, just like everything else about the guy. Taehyung’s a brother and friend rolled into
one. Jungkook used to climb into Junghyun’s bed once in a while when he got lonely, but the
comfort he feels around Taehyung seems different. He isn’t actually his family but Jungkook feels
so safe with him, and more than that, being close to him makes him happy. He pretends he sleeps
with Taehyung because the older needs something to hug to fall asleep, but Jungkook likes
cuddling up against him just as much. Sometimes, Jungkook feels like he’s the one who needs it.

“Hey, V,” he says, intentionally leaving out the honorific. He thought about saying ‘Taehyung’ but
that seemed like a bit too much.

“Mmm?” Taehyung doesn't even notice. Jungkook stares harder out the window and he thinks he
might’ve accidentally squeezed Taehyung's hand, because he squeezes back. “What?” Taehyung
says when Jungkook is silent for too long. Jungkook turns to look at him, making sure his
expression is only serious, not confused or frustrated. Because being frustrated would imply he’s
going through some kind of turmoil or that he can’t solve a problem on his own, but that’s not
true.

“Are you my hyung?” he asks.

Taehyung blinks several times. His mouth pulls down.

“Yes...?” he says, like he’s guessing the answer to a trick question.

Jungkook bites his lip. “Are you my—chingu? My friend?”

Taehyung's face relaxes. He reclines back in his seat, a ghost of a smile pulling at his mouth.
“Yes,” he says, more confidently this time, and then he tilts his head, the street lights gleaming in
his dark eyes. “I’m both, I guess. Why? Does it matter?”

Jungkook supposes not. The fact remains that he likes Taehyung and enjoys being with him.

Sadly, he has no idea how Taehyung feels about him, whether this...hunger for proximity is only
on his end, but either way, he’s pretty sure Taehyung’s his best friend. The thing that confuses him
most is when he finds himself staring at Taehyung and not wanting to look away sometimes,
‘cause Jungkook might not know anything about romance but that doesn’t seem like friend
behaviour to him. Is it admiration? Does Jungkook want to be Taehyung? Does he like Taehyung
too much?

Eww, since when did Jungkook get so damn mushy? Feelings fucking suck.
Taehyung always looks good, except for maybe when he binge-eats ramyeon before sleeping and
wakes up looking like he got stung by a bee. Even then, he’s sort of cute. Life sure is unfair.

The thick eye-liner brings out the sharpness of his cheekbones and jaw, the ferocity of his gaze.
Jungkook might feel daunted if he didn’t just watch the boy whine and stick his head under
Hoseok’s shirt because the older refused to give him a bite of his meal. Taehyung has this huge,
growly presence when he’s performing, but off the stage, he’s mostly a gigantic, floppy softy. The
gap makes Jungkook feel...some sort of way.

“Are you the leader?” Jungkook asks, his camera trained on Taehyung’s face.

“Yes,” Taehyung says with zero hesitation, like Jungkook knew he would.

“Well, our leader sure is good-looking.”

Taehyung’s lips do that wobbly pursing thing they do when he gets shy, his gaze falling away, and
Jungkook grins with self-satisfaction. It’s cute how flustered his hyung gets whenever anyone
compliments his looks, though Jungkook does wonder how he hasn’t become desensitized yet.
Bang PD kept Taehyung a secret until the last minute because he was afraid some bigger agency
would steal him before debut, for crying out loud. And Namjoon is always saying how Taehyung
will be devastating when he’s grown up, how he’ll be the type of good-looking that makes girls
weep. Jungkook really, really wants to see it come true but he’s also not sure how much room for
improvement there is when you already have a face like that.

He turns off the camera after they’ve made their pre-show comments and hands it off to the staff.
Taehyung sidles over, throwing an arm over his shoulders and nuzzling his ear.

“Teasing your hyung, huh.” He bares his teeth jokingly, and Jungkook opts to smirk instead of
smile like he wants to, eyes trained on their feet as they stumble back towards the others.

He doesn’t say that he was only telling the truth, because that’s a little too raw for him. Taehyung
probably understands, though.

“Fuck!” Jimin shouts, diving into Jungkook’s lap and coiling all four limbs around him. “I’m not
scared! I’m not, I’m just protecting our maknae!”

Taehyung isn’t even bothering to pretend to be brave, having long since inched his way behind
Jungkook on the couch, hands on the younger’s shoulders and peeking out only when Jimin isn’t
screaming. Occasionally, he’ll flinch and whimper when there’s a particularly scary jump scare.

Jungkook doesn’t pay them any attention, staring with his mouth half-open as the girl on the TV
pulls back her hair to reveal two pupils in each eye.

“FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK!” Jimin wails. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting, what the fu—”

Jungkook laughs at him, absently patting his back. Jimin’s squirreled his way into Jungkook’s
chest, curled up like a ball with his hands over his eyes. When the girl begins to pull herself
towards the protagonist, her boneless lower half dragging across the forest ground, Taehyung
squeaks, stuffing his face into the nape of Jungkook’s neck.

“Ah, hyung,” Jungkook gripes. “It’s hot with both of you clinging to me.”

“Shut up, I’m protecting you!” Jimin screeches.

“Why are we even watching a horror movie,” Yoongi drawls, spread across the floor, the only sign
of interest his head propped up in his hand. Jungkook almost forgot he was there. “You two’ve
been looking at your own hands this whole time.”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t scared, hyung, I saw you close your eyes just now,” Jimin hisses.

Foreboding music climbs in volume as the protagonist runs out of rocks to throw at the monster.
He shoves his girlfriend up the path towards the highway, telling her to run.

“Get away, Rebecca!” he cries. “Go, hurry!”

“I can’t leave you,” she sobs, tears streaming down her face. “Matthew, I can’t leave you!”

The man cups his bleeding side where the monster’s torn a chunk out of him with its teeth. “You
have to! I’ll be fine, I promise. Just go, Rebecca, please!”

The girlfriend bawls helplessly as she finally turns tail. What seems like hours later, she reaches the
highway and falls to her knees at the sight of headlights approaching from afar.

“Please! Help, please!” she yells, deafening in the silence of the night. But not loud enough to
block out the sounds of Matthew’s pained screams in the distance.

“No, I can’t watch this anymore,” Taehyung moans against Jungkook’s back. “Nooo, this is so
sad!”

Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder, making sure Taehyung isn’t crying. “Hyung, hyung,”
he says, reaching back to squeeze his leg. “We’re almost done.”

Taehyung groans some more, face smooshed against Jungkook’s hoodie, and doesn’t look up for
the rest of the movie.

After the credits start rolling, the collective, silent sigh of relief in the room makes Jungkook
cackle. Jimin’s fallen off his lap and is spread-eagle on the floor, one arm thrown over Yoongi’s
stomach. “Holy shit, I’m so awake right now, this was such a bad idea,” he complains. “Jungkook,
come sleep with hyung tonight.”

“No, I call dibs on Jungkookie!” Taehyung whines, unraveling from the ball he’s curled himself
into to glare at Jimin. “You sleep with Yoongi-hyung!”

“What does it even matter when we all sleep in the same room,” Yoongi mutters.

“Oh, if it doesn’t matter then I’m actually sleeping with you, hyung!” Jimin chirps, grinning
beatifically at him.

“No. Go to Hoseok.”

Jimin’s brows furrow. He rolls on to his stomach, chin propped in his hands. “That reminds me,
where are the others anyway? Didn’t Hoseok-hyung say he’d be back after practicing a few more
times?”

“He met up with Namjoon and Jin-hyung for dinner.”

“Ohh.”

Jungkook stops paying attention as Yoongi and Jimin start chatting about the cheap chicken
restaurant the others are apparently obsessed with lately, reaching behind him to pull Taehyung out
of his hiding spot. Taehyung grumbles but lets himself get tugged to Jungkook’s side, limbs
decompressing and flopping everywhere. Jungkook relaxes against the couch now that he’s free to
lean back. He sighs in satisfaction, melting against the softness that’s been warmed up by
Taehyung’s body heat, and closes his eyes.

“So you’re sleeping with me later, right?” Taehyung asks, part eager, part nervous. Jungkook peeks
an eye open and feels himself smile at the elder’s hopeful expression.

“Sure, whatever.”

Taehyung lets out a loud whoop, pumping his fist in the air. Then he jolts, glaring out the windows
with a fierceness that contrasts how his body’s shrinking in on itself. He grabs a cushion, wrapping
himself around it.

“She isn’t outside the windows, hyung,” Jungkook snorts.

“Don’t call it she,” Taehyung growls, kicking him in the leg. “It didn’t like that. And no loud
noises either, who knows what’s watching us from outside.”

Jungkook obliges, not to indulge him or anything, just that he’s not really prone to loud noises
anyway. “That thing couldn’t fly, it could barely even walk, how’s it gonna get to the windows on
our floor?”

“Shut up, don’t tempt fate.” Taehyung squints at him like he’s expecting Jungkook to turn into the
monster himself any second. “So do you not get scared by stuff like that or what?”

Jungkook shrugs. Truth is, the gore was so realistic that it did gross him out a bit and the jump
scares startled him, but he probably isn’t gonna have nightmares like Taehyung and Jimin whined
about. Things that he can’t see and therefore can’t prove exist like ghosts and stuff don’t tend to
really scare him, his nightmares are more about embarrassing himself in public. That stuff actually
happens, man.

Taehyung nods gravely, as if he heard all of these thoughts. “Okay, that’s good, I guess. Can’t hurt
to have a few brave ones around. I’ll leave you with the grand responsibility of protecting me then,
you’re welcome.”

Jungkook can’t help but crack a smile at that. “I bet if that movie happened to us, you’d shove me
in the monster’s way and run away screaming.”

“Hey, real life isn’t like those cheesy chick flicks, of course I’d ditch you and run. That’s what an
intellectual would do.” Jungkook glares at him jokingly and gets an eyebrow waggle in return,
utterly guiltless.

Suddenly, a loud crash comes from somewhere in the apartment.

Jungkook freezes. Taehyung mirrors him, eyes wide. From the floor, Yoongi and Jimin stare up at
them. The four boys are silent for a few seconds, listening.

There’s only silence.

“Wh-what was that?” Jimin whispers. He crowds closer to Yoongi, who’s frowning and sitting up
now.

Another ear-splitting crash, this time the sound of glass shattering.

Jungkook is still frozen in place, but both Jimin and Yoongi leap to their feet. Taehyung slides off
the couch and when he comes back into Jungkook’s view, he’s gripping a lamp.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, but Taehyung quickly slaps a hand over his mouth. He looks scared,
pupils dilated and skin pale, his palm clammy over Jungkook’s face. Adrenaline is still racing
through Jungkook but he wants to tell Taehyung not to freak out over nothing—it’s probably
something stupid like a fruit bowl tipping over the counter. Monsters don’t exist, ghosts don’t
exist, there’s nothing to be scared of and they’ll be laughing at themselves later when they figure
out what it was.

Yoongi’s pushed Jimin behind him with a finger to his lips, and he waves a hand at Jungkook and
Taehyung, trying to get their attention. Thoughts of monsters fall away and true fear begins to
slither up Jungkook’s spine when he figures out what Yoongi’s mouthing.

Robbers.

There have been reports of robberies in the area recently, not just houses but in apartments too, and
the news stories flash through his mind now.

Jimin’s eyes are round as saucers. As Yoongi begins to inch his way along the wall of the living
room and towards the hallway, Jimin grabs him by the back of his shirt. He shakes his head wildly.
Jungkook just watches on, heart thudding so hard he can hear it but unable to make his mouth form
any words.

He thinks Jimin’s right, if it’s really robbers, the four of them should stay together, keep from
provoking them and let them take whatever they want. Nothing in their crappy dorm is worth
anything anyway.

But Yoongi gives Jimin a reassuring look and motions for him to back off. He continues along the
wall by himself, step by step, and the closer he gets, the more Jungkook feels like he might be
going into shock. He doesn’t know how much help he’ll be, but he thinks he should move, follow
Yoongi to be his back-up or something.

Before he can, his arm is yanked on hard. Jungkook looks up at Taehyung, whose lips are
trembling, but he stares at Jungkook resolutely, clearly telling him to stay.

Then Taehyung steps past him to follow Yoongi, pressing himself against the wall with the lamp in
hand. Jungkook can only watch, breath held, as the two of them get closer to the hallway that leads
to their front door.

A body bursts into the room and lands on the floor in front of them with a deafening thump.
Taehyung and Jimin both shout, jumping a foot in the air. Yoongi’s stiff with shock, but quickly
shakes himself out of it and kicks the body in the side.

“Ugggghhhhh,” Namjoon groans.

“What the fuck,” Yoongi snarls.

“What the fuck!” Taehyung yells.

“Namjoon-hyung?! What are you doing, what the fuck!” Jimin shrieks.

Jungkook’s pretty sure he’s bitten through his tongue.

“Namjoon!” Seokjin screeches from down the hall. “Why’s there glass all over the floor?!”
“And the idiot didn’t know there was alcohol in it so he one-shot the whole thing, plus our soup
was, like, sake-based or something which obviously didn’t help, so then we had to come home
because he was starting to look like a firetruck—”

“You’re all awaaake,” Namjoon moans for the nth time. He’s stretched across the couch but his
head is starting to slide off, arms reaching like he’s trying to get to the members where they’re
gathered around the dining table. Seokjin shoots him a venomous look.

“Why does he keep saying that?” Yoongi asks.

Seokjin sighs and rolls his eyes. “I told him to be quiet coming in ‘cause you guys were probably
asleep.”

“I was quiet!” Namjoon protests. “I was soooo quiet, hyung, they didn’t even know, I was so
quieeeett.”

“Yeah, until you broke literally everything,” Seokjin sasses at him and Hoseok guffaws, clapping
like a seal.

Seokjin keeps acting mad for a while longer but it’s hard to be angry at a guy who’s drunk and
never means any harm, and soon he and Jimin are hauling Namjoon to his bed. Everyone else
helps clean up the glass and other broken things. Jungkook can feel his eyes drooping from
tiredness now that the adrenaline has worn off.

After a quick shower, he collapses in his bed. He’s already halfway to dreamland when another
body wiggles its way under his covers, curving around his back.

“Y’said you’d sleep with me,” Taehyung whines in a whisper, his minty breath hot against
Jungkook’s ear.

“I am,” Jungkook tells him. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Taehyung pinches his waist. “Brat.” He settles down with a happy sigh, body going lax against
Jungkook.

Despite how exhausted he is, there’s something tickling at the back of Jungkook’s mind that
doesn’t let him get to sleep, along with this weird warmth in his chest that makes him feel like bugs
are crawling in his insides, but like, not in an icky way. Taehyung makes a funny snuffling noise
behind him, and the way he’s burrowing closer as if Jungkook can protect him from all the evils of
the world pulls at his memory.

Jungkook must jostle Taehyung with his giggles because the elder makes a disgruntled noise. “’s
so funny?” he mumbles, half-asleep.

“Hmm...nothing.”

Taehyung hmph’s, hugging him tighter in a silent “don’t you dare ‘nothing’ me, you know I hate
that shit.” A few seconds pass before Taehyung huffs indignantly.

“Tell me.”
Jungkook chuckles. He hums, dragging out the suspense until Taehyung’s squirming. “I thought
you said you’d throw me to the monsters.”

“Huh?”

“Earlier, you said if we were in that horror movie, you’d throw me to the monsters and run away.
‘Cause you’re an ‘intellectual.’”

“...Yeah?”

Jungkook sighs, turns around in Taehyung’s arms, grinning hard. “So then why’d you go with
Yoongi-hyung and make me stay behind?”

The confusion clears from Taehyung’s expression, making way for sleepy smugness. He rolls his
eyes. “Please, how was I supposed to let our baby maknae go up against the big, bad robbers?”

“Even though you were almost pissing your pants?”

“Was not,” Taehyung sniffs. “You’re projecting.”

“Suuure. Also, not a baby.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll believe that when you catch up to my height.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re not even—I’ll be there so soon, hyung, you won’t even know what hit
you.”

“Uh huh.” Taehyung’s eyes start drifting shut.

“I’m gonna be bigger and stronger than you before you can even snap.” He grabs Taehyung’s hand
when the elder tries to do the obligatory snap. “I’ve started working out, you know.”

“Have you, now.”

“Yeah. You were singing praises about Jimin-hyung’s muscles the other day, I saw it.”

Taehyung’s eyes slide open halfway, brows pinching together and mouth pulling down. He thinks
for a moment. “You mean when he made me compliment him for the camera?”

“...Oh.”

“Wait, I don’t get it.” Taehyung frowns harder, blinking heavily a few times. His lips are all
pouted, which tells Jungkook he’s barely conscious. The feeble light of the city night hits him in a
way that makes his eyelashes look feathery long. “What does me ‘singing praises’ about Jiminie’s
muscles have to do with you working out?”

Jungkook draws a blank. He blinks back at Taehyung, just as confused and trying to recall his train
of thought. The working out thing was probably part of a plan but now he can’t remember what the
plan was supposed to be. Maybe he’s more tired than he thought. “I...I don’t know. Did I say that?”

“...I dunno.” Taehyung yawns. “Whatever, let’s sleep, I’m so not alive right now. Night-night.”

“’Night.”

Jungkook wonders if it’s weird to sleep face-to-face like this, so close with both of them hugging
each other. But who cares, it’s Taehyung and Jungkook’s way too comfortable to move right now.
Taehyung really does have a pretty face, though.

Jungkook closes his eyes, content to let that be his last thought as he feels himself get dragged
under.

“When you’re big and strong, then I’ll throw you to the monsters,” Taehyung murmurs. “You’re
too skinny to be tasty right now.”

Jungkook accidentally spits in his face when he bursts into giggles. Taehyung pokes him hard in
the ribs, complaining about how gross he is and instead of retaliating the pokes, Jungkook decides
to be the bigger man and stop it there. He’s a mature, not-baby, almost-adult after all. He hesitates
for only a second before wrapping Taehyung up in a big, warm hug, cuddling him with all the
affection he normally gets queasy about showing.

It’s a small sacrifice. Taehyung didn’t even waver before jumping into danger for Jungkook, after
all.

Taehyung’s portion of the photoshoot ends in under fifteen minutes, as usual.

The first time this happened, Jungkook was concerned, wondering if he got fewer shots for some
reason, dark possibilities running through his mind like if that one mean manager was bullying
Taehyung for being ‘uncontrollable’ and not allowing him to take as many photos as the rest of
them or something.

But then Jungkook saw the pictures in the monitor and, oh. And heard the camera director praise
Bang PD for how photogenic their V was. Well, then. Right. Jungkook stared at the photos, no
thoughts, head empty. Just “wowowow” going on loop in his ears.

This time too he has to remind himself to blink like a normal person as he hovers behind the staff,
watching photo after photo of Taehyung flash by. Jungkook’s finished his set already and now he’s
just waiting for Taehyung since they’re going to go get jjajangmyeon together. Yup, that’s
definitely the only reason he’s standing here.

“Augh.” He flinches at Jimin’s sudden voice, finding the other beside him, clutching his chest.
“Our Taehyungie’s so good-looking,” Jimin weeps, wiping at a non-existent tear.

“Yeah, so handsome,” Jungkook agrees.

They continue to watch until the end of the shoot. Once the director tells him he’s done, Taehyung
perks up like a puppy, drops his props, and skips over to them. “Heeyyy!” He immediately grabs
Jungkook in a chokehold and nuzzles him. “’Sup, Jiminie. Did you wanna get dinner with us too?”

“Huh?” Jimin looks between the two of them. “Oh, are you going somewhere?”

“We were thinking of getting take-out jjajangmyeon and then chilling, haven’t really decided yet.
Any ideas, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I’m okay with whatever.”

“Ohh, cool.” Jimin nods. “Thanks but I’ll pass. I’m pretty wiped out, think I’m just gonna go home
and sleep.”

“Oh, okay.” Taehyung frowns. “You’re not overworking yourself again, are you? Not dieting?”
“Yeah, make sure you eat something before sleeping,” Jungkook reminds him. Jimin gives them
both a fond look.

“Man, you’d think you two were my hyungs or something. Children, both of you.”

“Uh uh uh.” Taehyung waggles a finger in Jimin’s face, then leans in and cups a hand over his own
ear. “That wasn’t an answer, young man, so impolite.” Jimin laughs loudly and shoves him hard.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make sure to eat, geez. See you guys later then.”

“Okay, bye!”

“See ya.”

Taehyung spins Jungkook around with the arm around his shoulders, walking them towards the
changing room. He plants a quick peck on a spot behind Jungkook’s ear that Jungkook didn’t
know was sensitive until this very second and he jerks, batting at Taehyung who only laughs,
dancing away.

Taehyung’s been doing that a lot lately, kissing Jungkook on the ear, his cheek, his forehead.
Jungkook has no idea what prompted this, but then again, he doesn’t understand a lot of the
random things Taehyung does. Skinship is nice and everything, Jungkook secretly loves it when
his hyungs dote on him, hugging and cuddling and climbing all over him. He just isn’t very good at
the initiating part.

This though, the ear and neck kissing, it’s too much, way too annoying, really annoying.

Jungkook puts his fingers on the spot Taehyung kissed, brushing lightly against the skin to recreate
the phantom touch.

So annoying. He wishes Taehyung would do it again.

Sometimes, Taehyung looks at Jungkook in this heavy, intent-filled way. Jungkook has no idea if
he’s teasing or joking around or if he’s just practicing his bedroom eyes on Jungkook who happens
to be the easiest target—not that Jungkook thinks they’re bedroom eyes exactly, they’re softer than
that, maybe a bit, err, tender or something. Then again, what does he know? No one’s ever tried to
seduce him before.

Whatever it is, Jungkook doesn’t have the nerve to not break eye contact so he ends up instantly
looking down or off to the side instead, which is completely embarrassing and makes him feel like
a weak little baby, but what else is he supposed to do? Stare back into Taehyung’s eyes? No
thanks, who knows how badly Jungkook will humiliate himself if he tries that.

He wonders if Taehyung’s doing it because he knows Jungkook stares at him all the time when he
isn’t looking. This could totally be revenge. Not cool.

“Awwww, but Taetaaaee,” Jimin’s voice breaks Jungkook out of his little zone-out session. He
looks up to find Jimin sitting in Taehyung’s lap, legs hanging sideways over the arm of the sofa
and head resting comfortably in the crook of his friend’s neck. “That other video looked way
funnier!”

Taehyung grunts.

“Don’t ignore me!”

“We can watch the other one later. My phone, my rules.”

Jimin pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, but he stops complaining. Soon enough, he’s given
up on being mad and cackling along with Taehyung at whatever dumb clip they’re watching.

Jungkook can feel himself glaring. Like, his jaw is literally clenched in an effort to not do that thing
where his tongue stabs the inside of his cheeks because the hyungs pointed out the habit once and
now he’s self-conscious about it.

What’s he doing getting jealous of Jimin for anyway? Whenever anyone asks Taehyung who he’s
closest to in the group, his answer is always Jungkook, without fail. Jungkook’s got nothing to be
jealous of at all!

Unless...it’s not that he’s jealous of Jimin getting Taehyung’s attention. The thought of Taehyung
treating the other members the way he does Jungkook makes him feel small and dumb because that
would mean he isn’t special. With anybody, Jungkook loves receiving their attention, thrives on it,
feels good about himself because of it. But with Taehyung, it’s less like having his attention is a
plus and more like if Jungkook doesn’t have it, he starts wondering who does and if Taehyung
likes them better than him and whether they’re gonna steal Taehyung away from him. Freaking
snakes everywhere in this damn world.

Okay, just kidding, he doesn’t think the members are snakes. But still, Taehyung might shower all
of them with cartloads of physical affection, but he’s Jungkook’s best friend. Who else can have
almost whole conversations with their facial expressions alone? They’re pretty much the definition
of best friend goals, hello.

Yes, Jungkook is aware that he’s a spoiled brat. He’s grown up spoiled by an excess of Taehyung’s
attention, so Jimin should really watch out if he doesn’t wanna get smacked.

Jungkook twitches when he sees how close their faces are to each other right now. Reeeaaally
close. If either of them turns their head, their lips would touch, maybe. They both have kind of
thick lips now that Jungkook’s looking, and he already knew that about Taehyung but Jimin’s are
too and ew, Jungkook does not want to think about the two of them kissing, god. That’s gross. It’d
be as bad as watching Junghyun kiss someone, even worse actually. Jungkook hates it, he hates the
idea so much he’s getting pissed off just fucking thinking about it.

Taehyung must sense the heat of his glare because he glances over, quirking an eyebrow. “You
okay there, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, huffs, turns away. “Yeah,” he grunts.

There’s a pause, and then an insistent mmh noise.

He looks over at Taehyung again, who’s holding an arm out towards him now. Jimin’s taken the
opportunity to commandeer the phone, not paying attention to them.

“What,” Jungkook says, just to be difficult.

Taehyung flaps his outstretched hand. “Come here.”

“No.”

“Jungkook-ah.”

He scowls. Waits it out for three seconds for the sake of his pride before shuffling over to them.
Even if he wasn’t pretending to not want to go, something about that tone of Taehyung’s always
makes his body move before he can think.

Taehyung starts grinning as he approaches, and when he gets close enough, he tugs Jungkook
down by the arm. Jungkook sits down stiffly, letting Taehyung wrap an arm over his shoulders and
press his face into the side of Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook swallows. He wonders if Taehyung will kiss him. Right on cue, lips brush under his jaw,
and he sucks in a breath, biting back his smile, because smiling right now would mean losing and
Jeon Jungkook hates losing more than anything. Taehyung doesn’t know about the battle going on
inside him but he does it again, going for the win, the bastard. A firm kiss this time, and Jungkook
feels himself melt against his hyung, warmth seeping through his chest. Which is fine. He lost but
whatever, you can’t win every fight in life, can you? Might as well enjoy the losses too, right?

He cuddles into Taehyung’s side. Taehyung settles against him, propping his head up on
Jungkook’s shoulder, and snatches his phone back from Jimin.

Jungkook tries to concentrate on the dumb meme dubstep videos, but a few in and his attention
starts to drift back towards Taehyung instead. He stares down at the older boy’s majestic nose,
perfectly complemented by his strong eyebrows and intense gaze. Then Jungkook’s attention slides
down to Taehyung’s lips and he smiles at the natural downward curve of them. So cute.

Images flash through his mind, Taehyung’s face unbearably close to his own, Taehyung’s full
attention focused on Jungkook, the way those piercing eyes would slide closed before their lips
touch.

And it would feel so good if they kissed. Jungkook’s kissed a girl or two in his life, which was
nice, the kind of innocent sweetness of two kids acting out stuff they’ve seen in movies. But with
Taehyung, Jungkook doesn’t want to kiss just because he’s supposed to. He knows already how
good it’ll feel, the softness of his lips, the heat of his skin. He might whisper Jungkook’s name in
his low voice.

Jungkook’s heart aches from only imagining it.

He likes Taehyung so much. He likes his attention and his affection because he likes Taehyung, for
his goofy, fun-loving, childlike side, and also his subdued, shrewd, contemplative side. For how
kind and caring and empathetic he is. The guy’s afraid of bees but can’t stand the thought of killing
them. He’s shy about accepting praise but drowns Jungkook in compliments every day. He pulls
the coolest, most badass expressions in front of the camera, but immediately breaks down in
giggles at the first joke Jungkook whispers in his ear.

How was Jungkook ever supposed to stand a chance? Huh? Like, really.

Life is so unfair.

On May 26th, 2015, Jungkook posts a screenshot of the song “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Eels,
paused at 1:23 on the lyrics “If I can’t help falling in love with you.” He put a lot of effort into the
symbolism because in his heart of hearts, he’s a romantic, even if he’ll commit seppuku before
admitting it.

Taehyung doesn’t get the time stamp-birthday reference or the message behind the lyrics.
Obviously. He messages Jungkook on KaTalk gushing about how he loves that song too and ‘omg
jungkookie u should totally cover it some time.’ Later when Taehyung returns to the dorms, he
bursts into Jungkook and Namjoon’s room, blaring the song at max volume and twirling around
with a melancholic expression, dragging Jungkook into a waltz with him.

The next day, Yoongi invites Jungkook out for lamb skewers and Jungkook thinks nothing of it
since this is sort of a biweekly occurrence at this point, except Yoongi is uncharacteristically not-
chatty this time. Jungkook’s suspicions are proven right when halfway through their meal, after one
too many weird lulls in the conversation, Yoongi drawls, totally out of the blue, “You’re in love
with Taehyung, aren’t you?”

Jungkook suffers a true near-death experience. Physically from the lamb going down the wrong
pipe, emotionally because oh god how does he know do the others know he’s sorry so sorry he
didn’t mean for this to happen but have you met Taehyung Jungkook never had a choice. And he
hasn’t even come out as bi yet but Yoongi has always been open-minded about sexual identity and
stuff, so if Jungkook were smarter he would’ve seen this coming. But he really didn’t.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi says as he pushes a glass of water towards him, the picture of calm if not for
the way his eyes shift from the table to Jungkook to somewhere far off. “I don’t know if the others
can tell, but—actually, never mind, you’re kind of obvious.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook splutters, still shell-shocked.

Yoongi squints into the void. He shakes his head. “Then again, they’re blind, so there’s that.
Taehyung definitely has no idea if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jungkook stares down at his hands and neither affirms nor denies Yoongi’s...accusation. Love is a
strong word. He might’ve posted a screenshot of lyrics about love but it’s not like there are songs
about falling in like with people.

But probably, that’s just an excuse. He’s not sure what romantic love is supposed to feel like, but
Taehyung makes his heart hurt and if he ever gets a girlfriend, Jungkook’s gonna kill Taehyung
and the girl and then himself, so.

“’m sorry,” he murmurs. “E-even if by some miracle he does like me, I’m not gonna...date him or
anything.”

Yoongi doesn’t speak for a moment, sipping at his soju.

“That’s your decision to make,” is what he eventually says. “I’m not going to tell you what to do
because it’s your life. Just don’t forget that whatever responsibilities you have now, one day you
might decide they’re not as important as being who you want to be.”

Jungkook bobs his head in acknowledgment. Yoongi reaches over, awkwardly patting him on the
shoulder. “In the meantime, if you need to talk to someone, I’m always here.” Jungkook nods
again.

“Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi hums. Jungkook can feel his eyes on him, watching him fidget mutely. When he takes a
peek over at the older, he finds him smirking.

“So,” Yoongi says, dragging out the word. “When’d you realize it? I’ve always been curious.”

It’s like the gates of heaven open before Jungkook, a rush of light, birds aflutter, angels in song.
He’s never spoken to anyone about his sexuality or sex or anything along those lines, and it’s super
embarrassing to put any of that into words but he’s also huddled in the corner of a quiet
pojangmacha on a full stomach with a hyung he respects the hell out of. He knows he’s safe here,
that it’s okay to talk about his deepest, darkest secret. The leftover teenager part of him rebels
against laying himself bare, but he tells himself there’s nothing to be afraid of with Yoongi.

“Uh.” His voice cracks, making Yoongi’s smirk widen into a grin. Jungkook coughs out the
phlegm in his throat, face on fire.

“Yeah?” There’s a snicker in Yoongi’s voice.

“Um.” Jungkook bites his lip. “Okay. So you know how in ‘No More Dream,’ Taehyungie-hyung,
he, uh...yeets his glasses? I-I think that was, like. My sexual awakening.”

Jungkook can’t remember falling asleep, but he must have passed out at some point. The dream
doesn’t fade, the memory of his conversation with Yoongi from over a year ago playing out in
front of him.

It’s not a big deal. He could’ve had a dream about kissing Taehyung instead, reliving it the way
he’s been doing ever since Taehyung broke things off.

Oh, yeah. Taehyung broke things off.

Jungkook wants to cry.

He hasn’t yet. Sometimes he can feel it in the depths of his chest, a mass of something growing and
crawling up his throat, and he’s sure he’ll feel better if it comes out but it just won’t.

The first time Taehyung leaned in to kiss him, the disappointed faces of all his hyungs flashed
through Jungkook’s mind. He didn’t think they’d be disappointed in him or Taehyung, he knows
better, but it was the disappointment from cancelled shows, followed by the disappointment of
bans from the bigger, more conservative stations. The inability to do what they love most and
receiving the news, eventually, of disbandment. Jungkook knows very well what that fear feels like
even now, rushing back in with each of the insecurities he lived with every day for years before
their breakthrough. Today, he still wonders. If he messes up his live vocals, will the fans think him
lazy or uncommitted? If he screws up his dance moves enough, will ARMYs stop cheering for
them? If the public finds out that he loves Taehyung, how badly would it hurt their fans, hurt their
hyungs?

So he pushed Taehyung away, and despite understanding the full validity of his fears, spent every
second regretting that decision until he finally couldn’t take it anymore. Jungkook’s level-headed
and calm, but he’s not as mature as Seokjin claims him to be. He’s young and selfish, he wants
what he wants. He heard it all those times Jimin teased Taehyung about—about sleeping with Park
Bogum, and obviously he knew it was a joke, but what if it stopped being one someday? Taehyung
liked his Bogum-hyung so much, Taehyung liked too many people out there. What if, what if. And
then the what ifs became Jungkook using alcohol for the courage to take a step forward.

Now, he still doesn’t regret what he did that night. What he does regret is pushing Taehyung away
the first time, because if he hadn’t, maybe they would’ve had more time together. And this is
probably one of the things he feels guiltiest about—what’s all that talk about wanting the best for
Bangtan when he’s here beating himself up over losing a bit of time with Taehyung?

He really thought Taehyung liked him back. He was sure during that month, when they’d seek
each other out like bees to pollen. It felt like an equal, reciprocated effort, finding each other to kiss
in quiet rooms and dark corners. Jungkook had never been so happy in his life but apparently
Taehyung didn’t like him much after all, if he could give Jungkook up so easily. Taehyung said
they couldn’t last, but if he liked him, wouldn’t he try? It’s not like Jungkook has any idea what
will happen in the future, he’s scared shitless himself but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to at
least try.

Or maybe that month was Taehyung trying. And deciding he didn’t need Jungkook after all.

The tears still don’t come after that horrifying thought, though he can feel something sinking inside
him, like his ribcage has gotten too heavy to hold up and is descending into his stomach, crushing it
under its weight.

From outside the hotel room, a shriek of “JKaaaayyyy!” sounds through the hallway.

He hears it but doesn’t move. He blinks at the gray expanse of his sheets. His body feels so heavy.

Hoseok bursts in and launches himself at Jungkook with a screech. Jungkook gets the breath
slammed out of him, groaning from where he’s curled up under his comforter in fetal position.

“JayKaaaayyyy,” Hoseok sings again. “Are you gonna sleep all day, huuh? C’mon, get up and
watch a movie with me or something.”

“No,” he mumbles, face pressed against the sheets.

His refusal is followed by a silence that would make him uncomfortable if he could bring himself
to care, but as it is, all he does is stare blankly into the grayness under his comforter.

Unexpectedly, Hoseok gives up, sliding off of him and leaving the room. Jungkook lets himself
relax. It’s a mistake. A moment later, there are two sets of footsteps coming for him and he closes
his eyes, bracing himself.

“Jungkookiieee!” Jimin’s the one to flop over him this time while Hoseok makes himself
comfortable at the foot of the bed, sprawled over Jungkook’s legs. “Get up already! There’s
leftover pancakes in Jin-hyung’s room, let’s go steal them. Or we can order room service!”

“Why does everyone have my room key,” Jungkook groans, burrowing himself further into the
mattress, and Jimin laughs easily.

“Just let your hyungs take care of you.”

He says it teasingly, but it hasn’t escaped Jungkook’s notice that Jimin has been extra attentive to
him this past week. The others can tell something’s going on and Yoongi’s knocked on Jungkook’s
door a few times, asking to hang out or trying to coax information out of him, but he’s remained
resolutely tight-lipped. Jimin’s the only one who doesn’t ask. Jungkook assumes it’s because
Taehyung told him everything.

Jungkook loves each of his hyungs fiercely but he’s always been closest to and the most
comfortable with Taehyung than anyone else. Sometimes it felt like the two of them against the
world, horsing around, getting in trouble together, but now Jungkook doesn’t have him anymore
and unlike the last time it happened, this time he doesn’t really know why. Taehyung would never
lie to him so Jungkook believes the whole not-going-to-last reason that he was given, but he
doesn’t know what’s behind that and he doesn’t know what Taehyung expects from him at this
point. They’ve been ignoring each other for the past week, Taehyung presumably because he’s
feeling awkward, while Jungkook just can’t bear to look at him.

In return, it’s like Jimin has taken it upon himself to fill up the hole left behind by Taehyung and as
pathetic as it makes him, Jungkook is grateful. Jimin is loud with his love and that’s what he needs
these days. There are moments where he gets the fleeting feeling that Jimin is mad at Taehyung,
but he doesn’t really know. Maybe he’s just being oversensitive though since Jimin’s not the type
to be able to hide his anger and the two ninety-five-ers still hang out as usual.

His hyungs manage to drag him out of bed and force him through some semblance of a morning
routine. Then they order brunch from room service and eat together at the little table in front of the
TV. The food goes down easier with Jimin and Hoseok goofing off and yelling at each other about
random things. The subject of Jungkook’s shitty mood never comes up, nor does Taehyung’s
name. Hoseok probably doesn’t know exactly what’s going on but the members aren’t so oblivious
as to not be able to sense the tension between him and Taehyung.

After entertaining Hoseok and Jimin enough to demonstrate that he hasn’t forgotten how to human,
he crawls back into his bed and kicks them out by convincing them he won’t stay cooped up in his
hotel room all day. Which is a blatant lie that he feels a little bad about, but they don’t have any
schedules today so if nothing’s making him get up then he refuses to move.

As the door of his room closes behind the two, Jungkook hears Hoseok hiss out, “Oh, Taehyung’s
back! Hey, Taehyung-ah!”

The door shuts with a click. Jungkook waits for one second, two seconds, before leaping off the
bed and running for the door. He presses his ear to it.

“You look exhausted, man,” Hoseok is saying sadly. “Go get some rest while you can, we don’t
have to go anywhere today anyway.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs. He does sound tired to the bone. The few times Jungkook’s seen him
lately, he seemed to be stressed, a permanent wrinkle etched between his brows, mouth always
pulled taut. Filming for Hwarang is set to end this month and even though Taehyung hasn’t
complained at all, Jungkook thinks he’s been stretched too thin. It must be so stressful to be the
first person in their group to get into acting, especially a drama packed with fellow young stars.

Suddenly, Jungkook feels stupid. Here he is moping like a dumbass while Taehyung’s out there
working so hard he’s on the verge of burning out. It’s not like it’s Taehyung’s fault that Jungkook’s
in love with him. The way things are, Jungkook’s only adding to the weight on the elder's
shoulders.

He pulls away from the door and laughs at himself. Seems like just yesterday that Taehyung was
brushing his index finger against Jungkook’s hand on stage, grinning wide when Jungkook
carefully wrapped his own fingers around it. Now look what they’ve become.

He hates feeling like this. He wants to change.

Jungkook would describe Taehyung’s eyes as feline, the slant to them, the way they kind of, like,
slice into you and drag you in at the same time. Back when Jungkook was a gross emo teen, he
went through a phase where he tried to write lyrics about Taehyung’s eyes, wanting to sneak them
into a cheesy love song that he’d pretend was meant for the ARMYs. But he could never really
find the right words, and also reading the lyrics back made him want to set himself on fire, so yeah,
that didn’t work out.

Even now, bearing witness (he really is only a witness, he can’t control it) to the way these
thoughts about Taehyung bubble up in his mind makes him physically cringe, but his obsession
with his hyung has long since become a part of him. Jeon Jungkook has a mole under his bottom lip
and enjoys eating food and breathes air, and oh yeah, every time he sees Taehyung he starts writing
poetry in his head. At this point, he’s a victim. Of himself. Or something.

Anyway, the point is that Taehyung’s eyes are usually feline-ish, except when he gets surprised,
like right now. Or curious. Then he turns into a whole-ass puppy and Jungkook should really not be
so entranced in a situation such as this, but the primal part of him doesn’t care what went on
between them. He hasn’t seen Taehyung up close in a long time.

“Oh,” Taehyung says, relatively calmly despite his round eyes and the way his body jolts
backwards. Maybe he only sounds calm because his voice is low. It’s not fair, because Jungkook
makes a noise that’s somewhere between a grunt and a gasp, high enough to be embarrassing.
“Umm...hey, Jungkookie.”

“Yeah, hi,” Jungkook stammers.

They continue to stand in each other’s way. Taehyung seems to forget he came to the kitchen for
something until Jungkook tears himself away from Taehyung’s stare and shuffles past him, pressed
hard against the counter so they don’t touch.

Taehyung must be too surprised or too tired to manage his usually impenetrable mask, because his
face falls at that. He squeezes past Jungkook and walks off towards the fridge without a backwards
glance, and Jungkook stands in place, a bit shaken and unsure if he should just leave.

He watches Taehyung grab their big carton of milk and tip it straight down his throat. It’s a scene
he’s seen often enough here in the kitchen of their dorm, the familiarity making his chest ache.

“Why’re you drinking milk at night?” he asks. Too quiet, too intimate.

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he chokes, thrusting the carton away from his face. Jungkook darts
forward to smack him on the back as Taehyung coughs and wipes at his mouth, a tiny spot of milk
on his chin. “God, what are you doing, Taehyung-ssi,” Jungkook scolds, thrusting a tissue at him.
“Be more careful.”

Taehyung hacks some more, his face twisting in exaggerated torment. To Jungkook’s shock, he
feels himself start to smile.

“Shut up,” Taehyung wheezes out between coughs, pounding on his chest. He takes the tissue and
swipes it messily over his face. “You’re the one that suddenly talked to me. Thought you left
already.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Taehyung faces him fully and their eyes lock. His lips are drooped at the corners in their neutral
state, any humour or put-upon pain melting out of his expression to leave only blankness. The
fridge door’s still open, casting light and shadow over his face, milk carton clutched in one hand,
his other hand idly fisted around the tissue.

For a moment, Jungkook is struck with grief at the simple fact that Taehyung isn’t his anymore. It
hits him like a boulder to the chest, stealing his breath, making his eyes sting. His pretty, handsome
secret, the person who always welcomed his affection with open arms. It hurts so badly to
understand that Taehyung doesn’t love him the way Jungkook loves him.

Realistically, Jungkook only has two options right now for how he wants to deal with this: to mope
or not to mope. It’s all he can manage for now since thinking about something bigger like moving
on makes his chest hurt something fierce. That’s something so far away that it feels like an
impossibility.

And Jungkook will continue to mope more, for no reason other than that he just can’t help it. He
won’t be able to fully forget his feelings for Taehyung without serious effort and a good handful of
years.

That said, he can compromise. Jeon Jungkook, when he puts his mind to it, is a man who gets shit
done. He can mope on the inside, away from other people as he’s always done. Not here, not now.

He tries for a smile and succeeds, as small as it is, as much as his heart continues to ache.

Taehyung looks startled, his jaw going lax. Jungkook wonders if Taehyung thought he’d let their
years of friendship go to waste over some unreturned feelings.

He reaches up to pinch Taehyung’s cheek, smearing a drop of leftover milk over the skin. “Messy.”

The crumpled tissue falls from Taehyung’s hand. His arm comes up to hold Jungkook’s hand to his
face. “Jungkookie,” he murmurs, eyes soft. Jungkook thinks he should really stop blaming himself
for getting carried away, not when Taehyung looks at him like this.

“Close the fridge already, you’re wasting so much electricity,” Jungkook mumbles. He slips his
hand off of Taehyung’s face, shoves down the urge to wrap all four limbs around the elder, and
steps away.

“Oh.” Taehyung breaks their eye contact for a second to nudge the door closed with his hip. Then
he realizes he’s still holding on to the milk carton, sighs at himself, and opens the fridge again to
put it back. Once done, he stands there awkwardly with his arms at his sides, staring at Jungkook.

Jungkook forces himself to stop biting his lip. “’m gonna go sleep now,” he says. “‘Night, hyung.”

“G-Goodnight.”

Taehyung’s eyes follow him as he leaves, something like hope in them, and Jungkook really is such
a huge copycat even on the inside because he feels that same hope reflected in the fractional
loosening in his chest.

To say that there aren’t nights where Jungkook will lie in bed, daydreaming about Taehyung and
letting himself get increasingly sad until he’s near tears from longing, would be a big, fat lie. But at
least they’re getting to the point where he can talk to him like a normal, functioning human being,
and the fact that Taehyung reciprocates, tentatively drawing him into conversation or occasionally
sending him a meme, makes the process a lot easier.

Jungkook can practically hear the rest of the group sigh in relief, except for maybe Jimin who
doesn’t let up one bit on the whole big-brother thing he’s become so adamant about lately.

“Junggoooo~” Jimin sings now, draping himself over Jungkook’s shoulders. “You busy tonight?
Naw, of course not, when are you not hermitting in your room. Let’s go out for dinner! Hyung’s
treat!”

“Go away,” Jungkook groans, smothering himself against the couch cushion, flat on his stomach.
He’s worn out from dance practice. A month ago, that wouldn’t have stopped him from going out
to eat or working out for the next three hours because he fucking loves that feeling of complete
physical exhaustion. It’s so good pushing himself past his limits. But he’s not in the mood today
and he can tell how alarming this must be for Jimin, who stiffens against him.
“Are you—are you rejecting free food?” the older demands incredulously, pulling away. Jungkook
can feel him staring at the back of his head.

“When is food not free when I eat with you hyungs,” Jungkook mutters. Jimin plants a foot on his
ass.

“Hey!” Then he pauses, because Jungkook’s right. “Yeah! Well! Don’t think I’ve forgotten about
that one time you pretended you didn’t have your wallet on you!”

Jungkook ignores him.

Jimin lets out an irritated sigh, clamping both hands on Jungkook’s arm and attempting to drag him
off the couch. His bare feet squeak against the floor and he grunts in exertion but Jungkook grabs
on to the armrest with his other hand, determined not to move. Soon enough, Jimin gives up,
throwing his arm away and yelling at the maknae.

Jungkook might’ve stayed there all night, too unbothered to move anywhere, if Jimin didn’t finally
say very quietly, “I’m just worried about you, Jungkook-ah. Please? I’ll treat you to anything you
want. Promise.”

The first hint of guilt sneaks into him and Jungkook rolls over to face Jimin, who somehow looks
both like a kicked puppy and disapproving mom. Sensing the crack in his armour, Jimin turns up
the power of his sad face. Jungkook sighs.

“Okay.”

They decide on steak because Jungkook is a little shit, sad or not, and Jimin is way too indulgent
despite all the shouting and scolding he does. Yoongi passes by on their way out of the dorm and
nods at the two of them with something like approval, but declines the invitation to go with.

“Have fun,” he says, patting Jungkook on the shoulder.

They order some wine to go with the steak and Jungkook drinks enough to get into that floaty loose
stage, though not enough that he’ll do something similar to the last time he got drunk. He’s pretty
sure if he tried to kiss Taehyung this time, he’d be the one to get shoved away, and there’s no way
in hell he’s going to let himself find out.

Jimin’s being his normal, cuddly, emotional-drunk self with a tendency to blurt out things he
usually keeps locked inside. Jungkook’s suffered through three separate rants about three different
hyungs and half an existential crisis when Jimin suddenly says, “I miss seeing you excited.”

It’s so far out of left field that Jungkook stops with his fork in his mouth, gawking at him. He
expected, sometime during this dinner, an are-you-okay talk or a cliché, vague story about people
getting over their first loves—because even though Jungkook hasn’t said a word about what
happened, he’s sure Jimin can see that what he’s going through is heartbreak. Maybe they all can.
Jungkook’s pretty shit at acting like he’s okay when he isn’t.

He’s not sure how to respond to the comment. Sorry would be weird, thank you wouldn’t even
make sense. He could promise that he’ll be back to normal soon but even though he knows he’ll
eventually be okay, talking to Taehyung right now is still simultaneously the worst and best part of
his day. It leaves him with a sour feeling in his chest and that’s not exactly near “being okay.”
Jimin doesn’t wait for him to reply though, barrelling on. “You know, I was talking about this with
Jin-hyung the other day too. Like, a while ago, before—um, shit hit the fan.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, dropping his fork with a clang, horrified that the hyungs might be talking
amongst themselves about his feelings for Taehyung. That makes everything too real. “Wh-what
do you mean?”

“Not what you’re thinking,” Jimin says wryly, patting his hand. “We were watching an episode of
Celeb Bros, you and Minwoo-hyung, and like, commentating on it on V app. I said to Jin-hyung
that you get excited about things like exercising and practicing and performing, but you don’t show
an ounce of that passion towards me. The disrespect!”

Jungkook blinks, chewing and swallowing a leftover mouthful. “...Okay?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, see what I mean?” He smacks Jungkook on the shoulder. “Anyway, it’s
not just me, it’s towards the rest of the members too. I dunno if you’re going through your
rebellious phase or what even though you’re legally an adul—ow! Hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Get to the point already,” Jungkook sighs. Jimin glares at him.

“I was saying that you don’t show passion towards any of us.” He holds up a finger when
Jungkook opens his mouth to retort. “Shut up, I’m not done. I mean, okay, I’m complaining about
it but it’s not actually a big deal because we know you love us more than anything. Yeah, yeah,
blush all you want but you know it’s true.” He reaches over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek but gets
shoved away. “Like, you don’t get excited about being with us, but you have this huge respect for
Namjoon-hyung and you cuddle with Hobi-hyung and beat up me and Jin-hyung, whatever. It’s
cool. That’s the way you express your love and stuff and we get i—”

“Can I have this if you’re not gonna eat it?” Jungkook tries to swipe Jimin’s asparagus,
embarrassed at all the mushy talk. Jimin fends him off with a well-placed slap, continuing on like
he was never interrupted.

“—we get it but what I’m saying is that the one person you do get excited around is Taehyung.”

Jungkook freezes.

“I always thought you got so...giddy around Taetae because you two are on the same wavelength
and do stupid shit together, but I’ve realized now that it’s not only that.” Jimin drops his hand,
leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s because you really, really like him.”

Jungkook stares at a spot on the table, jaw clenched.

“So, I don’t know what happened between the two of you. Taehyung didn’t tell me anything but it
doesn’t matter.” Jimin shakes both fists in the air. “I just wanna see you excited again, Jungkookie.
I wanna watch you jump around and squeal when you nail a move, or waddle down the stairs from
leg day with that dumb grin, you gigantic masochist. I want you to find something to be passionate
about. It—” he stops here with a strange expression that Jungkook can’t place, maybe regret, “I’m
not saying it has to be Taehyung, but I’ve got your back. And Taehyung’s. And you should know
I’m rooting for you guys.”

Jungkook has nothing to say. The reminder of his feelings for Taehyung, as if he hasn’t already
been constantly thinking about them every day, makes his heart hurt. Hearing Taehyung’s name
alone hurts. Jungkook’s glad to have Jimin’s support. He’s grateful Jimin cares so much that he
wanted to have this conversation. Jungkook doesn’t know what to think or how to feel anymore,
everything’s a mess and he doesn’t know anything.

He just misses Taehyung. He misses Taehyung so badly. He loves Taehyung. Why doesn’t
Taehyung love him?

For someone who normally cries so easily, it was a feat to get to this point, but Jungkook finally
chokes on a sob. The misery rises so quickly in his throat that he can’t defend against it, tears
welling up against his will and he puts his face in his hands and cries, silently, right out here in
their little corner that feels private but is really a public place. Jimin hurries over to his side,
throwing an arm around him and pulling him to his chest.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he coos, stroking the back of Jungkook’s neck. It’s so similar to the way
Taehyung does it that Jungkook can almost imagine it’s him.

“Ah, fuck,” he sobs, gritting his teeth, but everything’s been trapped in his chest for so long now
that this almost feels good, a release from the constant pressure suffocating him.

“It’s okay, you’re good,” Jimin continues to soothe, petting him gently, blocking him from the
view of the doorway in case anyone walks by. Jungkook curls into him, hating that he’s letting
himself be so vulnerable but he gets it now, why people describe this as a dam breaking. He rarely
feels so overwhelmed by anything. Frustrated or annoyed, sure, when things don’t go his way, but
right now his heart is too big to be contained by his body and he can only hope that crying will
make it normal again. Fix him.

“I didn’t know it would hurt this bad,” he confesses.

“It’s okay.” Jimin hugs him tighter. “We’ll figure it out. You’ll be okay.”

Jungkook feels a tap on his shoulder. When he turns, he finds Namjoon standing there, smiling
lightly, eyes expectant, and Jungkook realizes he must’ve said something to him. He pulls out one
of his earphones. “Sorry, hyung?”

Namjoon nods towards the piece of paper he’s curled over. “What are you drawing?”

“Oh.” Jungkook glances down at it, suddenly embarrassed. “Uh, nothing. I was just bored.”

Namjoon hums and Jungkook squirms under his scrutiny, fighting the urge to cover up what he’s
been working on for the last hour It’s a graphic drawing of the words “Change Me” done with
pencil crayon in shades of white, black, and red, and the “C” is a gear of some sorts that makes the
entire design look distinctly mechanized, like a sticker you’d see on a car or motorbike or
something. There isn’t any particular reason for the mechanical theme, he just felt inspired.
Everything needs to be shaded in a bit more to create some contrast and overlap before he’s
satisfied with the drawing.

“That’s pretty dope,” Namjoon says, squeezing his shoulder. “Seriously, you’re so fucking good at
art, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything but he smiles a little, staring down at the paper.

“You should upload it on our Twitter when you’re done.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The conversation hits a dead end but Namjoon doesn’t seem like he’s done, hovering behind him,
 and Jungkook is wary of what he’ll say next but he can’t disregard Namjoon as easily as he might
the others. “What’s up?” he asks, picking up his red pencil crayon again to start shading in some
corners.

“Nothing. I was thinking...”

“Oh no,” Jungkook jokes.

“Hey!” But Namjoon snorts, the tension dissipating as he ambles over to his bed and falls back on
it. “I wish you’d talk more about your feelings, Jungkook. I mean, I know it’s just your personality
but shutting down can be surprisingly harmful sometimes.”

Jungkook lets out a breath through his nose. A while ago he might’ve been self-conscious or
ashamed to be talking about this, but he’s gotten so much lecturing from Jimin lately that he’s
become desensitized.

They don’t seem to understand that sometimes, talking doesn’t make things better for him, not if it
doesn’t solve anything. Telling someone might take a load off his shoulders, but that load doesn’t
disappear, it only gets transferred on to someone else. It can even get magnified, because
something small that he could resolve on his own becomes a huge concern when it’s spread to six
other people. He’s pretty sure there’s some Newton’s Law on this, about mass and conservation or
something. Equivalent exchange, Fullmetal Alchemist, you know.

And okay, he gets that talking things out is the way Bangtan has survived this long without any big
fights, but this isn’t a group problem. It’s about his stupid feelings for stupid Taehyung. How
would his hyungs even fix that for him?

But he guesses he understands where Namjoon’s coming from, to some extent. Jungkook doesn’t
look up from his paper as he tells him honestly, “I’m working on it, hyung.”

“Good,” Namjoon says, satisfied, and doesn’t bring up to the topic again.

Jungkook does end up uploading the art to their Twitter. Taehyung isn’t in the dorm when he does,
off filming again, but half an hour later he texts Jungkook a creepy moon smiley face plus a paint
palette emoji, along with “bts’s official artist jungkookie :3”.

Like Taehyung, the majority of the ARMYs don’t find any concern in the message of the picture,
admiring his art skills instead, and Jungkook is happy about that. He feels safe in this at least,
hiding behind a veil of nonchalance.

The fact that he’s putting this out there alone deserves a pat on the back, though.

One step forward towards acceptance.

Chapter End Notes

i feel like this chap was a lot to take in. thank u so much for reading!!! i rec'd a bunch
of amazing comments last chap and i just wanted to say thank u, i appreciated all of
them so much *cry*
 Chapter 13
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Taehyung feels the breakdown creeping up on him way before it happens, but knowing it’s coming
doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. He feels like the world’s biggest idiot, a failure, and it
doesn’t help that Jimin is disappointed in him about the him and Jungkook thing. His friend’s been
trying not to be obvious but Taehyung can taste it in the air whenever they talk. Taehyung doesn’t
know if Jungkook said anything, but somehow, it seems like Jimin could tell from the beginning
that Taehyung was the one to end things.

Well, Taehyung’s been obvious. Despite being the nosiest asshole alive though, Jimin hasn’t
attempted to interrogate him. Truly the best platonic soulmate out there, definitely a keeper.

Actually, that was probably his strategy all along, now that Taehyung thinks about it. He’s a
sneaky motherfucker after all.

“You sneaky motherfucker,” Taehyung says out loud, and his words don’t even sound like words
with the way he’s sobbing his pathetic heart out, but Jimin appears to understand.

“I know, I’m an asshole,” he croons without a clue as to what Taehyung’s referring to, wrapped
around him in a koala hug as they sit on the bathroom floor.

“I’m so—stressed,” Taehyung cries, chest heaving, and he’s trying desperately to be quiet because
he doesn’t want to wake the others up, but he hurts. Where did this even come from? One second
they were brushing their teeth together and the next, Taehyung’s eyes were watering. No, it’s
Jimin’s fault for being so patient and soothing, cheerfully carrying the conversation for a drained
Taehyung.

“I’m so tired,” he whispers. “I know I should be grateful for the opportunity, but I’m just so
relieved that filming is over. I—god—”

“Shh, shhh, I know. There’s nothing wrong with being stressed, Taehyung-ah. You were
overwhelmed by lots of things at once.”

Taehyung sobs harder, comforted that Jimin isn’t judging him for being weak. It was just a drama.
Just a drama, a bunch of idols out there do it, balancing comebacks and promotions and filming and
they’ve all had their difficulties, he’s sure, especially because idols typically don’t have acting
experience, they haven’t studied it like aspiring actors do. Taehyung had fun learning something so
new and at first he did okay, but he’s a perfectionist at heart and the pressure got heavier and
heavier. Letting go of Jungkook knocked down his last pillar and he collapsed under the weight.

“Do you remember what Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung said the other day?” Jimin asks,
squeezing him harder. Taehyung nods, sniffling, his face pressed against the other’s shoulder.
“Well, it’s true. We can’t fix this for you, but we’re here to support you. Always, Taetae. Don’t
forget you have us.”

Taehyung breaks out in a new wave of sobs, clutching Jimin to him. He nods and blubbers out a
thank you. “I know, that comforted me a lot.”

“Yeah.” Jimin pets him like a puppy, stroking his head. “Also means you can stop bottling shit up
all the time, jackass.”
Taehyung chokes on a watery laugh. “You’re right.”

And he does acknowledge this fact, but he still can’t bring himself to talk about what happened
with Jungkook to Jimin. Maybe Jimin is fine with that as well, for now, at least. Taehyung feels
guilty for dumping all of this on him, he’s noticed that his friend has been spending lots of time
with Jungkook lately too and he hopes Jimin isn’t wearing himself out being there for both of them.

“How’s life for you lately?” he hiccups shakily and Jimin throws back his head with a laugh.

“I’m good, you idiot, don’t worry about me!”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Holy shit, yes. I’d tell you if anything was wrong.”

Taehyung raises his head to glare through his swollen eyes. “No you wouldn’t. You bottle
everything up too, hypocrite.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Whatever, shut up. I’m nowhere near as bad as you and Jung—uh.
Jung...Hoseok.”

Taehyung’s chest goes a little tight, but he has to laugh at that. “You can say his name in my
presence, Jiminie, I’m not gonna burst into flames.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Hey!”

Jimin just rolls his eyes and rocks him some more, combing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair.

“I know you probably don’t wanna talk about this yet,” Jimin says carefully. “But uh, just wanted
to let you know that Jungkook didn’t really tell me anything either. And I know we’re close, but
neither of you is, like, required to tell us anything.”

Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. He nods. “I know you’re not forcing us. Don’t worry.”

Jimin makes an affirmative sound. Then he pauses. “But if you wanted to, y’know, just sayin’, I
am one hundred percent behind yo—”

“Okay, I get it, Jimin,” Taehyung chuckles.

“Good.”

They stay up discussing other things, big ones like how crappy Taehyung’s been feeling lately and
how the others can help, to small ones like how Seokjin freaked out about finding a white hair the
other day and had a whole crisis, so Yoongi waited until he was napping before finding said hair
and colouring over it with black sharpie. Rather than pull it out because he wanted to save their
hyung from idol hair loss syndrome.

Taehyung starts crying again at the last one because how can he not, what the fuck even. Jimin’s
squeaky laughter is loud enough that he probably wakes up half the dorm, but it’s fine, because by
this time the others should be getting up anyway. And Taehyung needs to get off his ass and ice his
eyes if he doesn’t want to be bombarded by Aggressive Concern later.

His legs are weak when he goes to stand up and Jimin tries to catch him, but his knees give out on
him too so they end up a heap on the stupid hard floor, giggling. Light from the sunrise begins to
streak in through the window. Taehyung smiles at how it makes Jimin’s face glow, and for a
moment, forgets the pain that’s been a constant in his chest since he watched Jungkook walk away.

One all-nighter of bawling is enough for the week, so after their heart-to-heart that night, Taehyung
knows he’s temporarily safe from confrontation by their tiniest and scariest member. No doubt
Jimin will eventually get fed up and explode again in another few days, but, you know. That’s a
problem for another time.

Too bad he ruled out the other members too quickly.

At first, he doesn’t even notice he’s trapped. He thinks it’s just another cuddle session, Hoseok
snuffling and giggling and growling “Taehyungie, oh Taehyungie” like a perv, snuggled up against
his back on Taehyung’s bed.

They lie there for a bit, enjoying the peace. Hoseok’s abandoned the joking tone when he asks,
“You have more free time now that Hwarang’s done, don’tcha?”

“Mm-hmm.” Taehyung bites his bottom lip. “I’m glad it’s over, honestly.”

Hoseok pats him on the chest, his hair tickling the back of Taehyung’s neck. “You did good.” It’s a
baseless compliment because the drama isn’t even out yet and it’s not like Bangtan was allowed to
come watch him film. This sort of makes it more touching though, that Hoseok has absolute faith
he did well. Taehyung smiles.

Hoseok hums a tune he doesn’t recognize, tapping out a rhythm against Taehyung’s collarbone, his
fingers quick and sharp. “How’s it going with JK lately?”

Taehyung stiffens. The warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest evaporates. “Uh.”

Hoseok must feel him tense, hand softening on Taehyung’s chest, but he keeps going. “You know
everyone’s been trying to give you space, but sometimes having things out in the open is easier.
You think you’re doing us a favour but you’re not.”

Taehyung sucks in a breath through his teeth, shocked by the straightforwardness. The words hit
him right where it hurts, making him want to curl up into a ball and hide forever. He’s so ashamed
of himself.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Heyy, that’s not what I meant,” Hoseok says, still stern but softer this time. He moves away to
give Taehyung the room to flip over, and he does, frowning sadly at Hoseok as the elder throws his
arms over Taehyung’s shoulders. Hoseok’s expression isn’t his normal sunshiney self but it’s not at
Scary Dance Teacher level yet. His kindness has always brought out the child in Taehyung so he
pouts, and Hoseok coos at him, squishing his face. He considers Taehyung for a moment, pursing
his lips.

“You know, our Jungkookie was so happy a while ago?” he says with a smile. “And now he’s
depressed all the time. Never comes out of his room anymore. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

Taehyung wishes Hoseok would stop saying such blunt, heartbreaking things with those warm eyes
and loving pinches. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs again, unable to meet his eyes.

Hoseok hums. “Since you’re apologizing, I’m guessing you’re the one that did something.”
Taehyung doesn’t reply.

“I found this video the other day. It’s really cute, you should watch it.”

“Huh?” Taehyung’s eyes snap to his. His mouth opens like a goldfish. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you now.”

Hoseok pulls out his phone, taps at it a couple times, then sticks it back into his pocket. He slides
off Taehyung and the bed with a groan, stretching his arms up and cracking his neck. “I’m off to
the studio then. If you need me for anything, just shoot me a text, ‘kay? I’ll be back in a couple
hours, so let’s hang out later!”

Taehyung’s left gaping as Hoseok casually strides out of the room, leaving him all by his lonesome
and completely befuddled, right after stabbing him in the heart multiple times. The door closes with
a quiet click. He starfishes out on the bed, blinking up at the ceiling. Talk about an emotional
rollercoaster.

He grabs his phone to see what sort of video Hoseok thought was cute enough to bring up in the
middle of a serious lecturing, wondering if it’s another one those teacup puppy ones all the
members were obsessed with for a while. That’d be the perfect pick-me-up right now.

His heart drops into his stomach when he reads the video title. [Vkook] When Kookie can’t stop
staring at Taetae, tailed by the big eyes emoji and three purple hearts.

Taehyung feels a surge of anger. He shouldn’t. Hoseok would never be cruel on purpose, and it’s
obvious that his hyung must be truly concerned about them by the way he lectured Taehyung just
now. But his chest hurts too much for him to make sense of this. There’s no way he’s watching
this video. He’s been working hard to take the first steps towards normalcy, but seeing this will
kick him right back to square one, and he’s just so fucking tired of crying and being sad over
something that’s out of his control.

So he doesn’t know why he taps the play button.

For the next ten minutes, Taehyung lies there in bed, refusing to tear up as he watches a dozen
different versions of Jungkook from 2013 up to now, doe eyes following him around and face
going soft when he catches sight of him. In the video, Taehyung is rambling on about what he
thinks of the album, his favourite parts of their newest song, and Jungkook watches him without
blinking for long minutes. He didn’t know Jungkook looked at him like that when he wasn’t
paying attention.

God, he likes Jungkook so much. In his own mind, Taehyung’s a logical person—maybe that logic
doesn’t make sense to other people all the time, but in his world, it always does and he doesn’t fall
for people like this, so illogically. Back in high school, he got shit from his friends for almost
deciding to like someone because the pros list was longer than the con. So the fact that his feelings
for Jungkook are entirely out of his hands scares him more than he wants to admit.

But he can’t, he can’t, he can’t even be gay without ruining the band, let alone be with Jungkook.
It’s not fair. Why do people choose to believe things for no reason other than that they were taught
to do so, even when those beliefs cause harm to other people? If it were up to him, Taehyung
would create a society where people could do whatever they wanted as long as they loved each
other. It’s so frustrating. He’s just one small person trying to live his life; the only difference
between him and everyone else is that his dreams make him known to people. And when you’re
known, you lose anonymity, you lose freedom, which is honestly fine since he’s the one who chose
this path. What he hates is that despite the loss of freedom, as only one person, he still lacks the
power to change some moronic, deep-rooted, and entirely unnecessary beliefs.

He just wants to live his life without having to fit a mold. Sure, he’ll work hard at singing and
dancing, bust his ass, leave every practice with his underwear wet from sweat, all so he can match
up to the standards set by other idols. But not being able to love a man? That’s not fair. It’s not fair.

Anger bursts through him again, and he rolls to his feet, grabbing a notebook and pen from his
desk. He might as well do something productive with all these shitty feelings boiling up inside him,
because he’s learned by now that brooding helps no one, not himself, not Jungkook, not the
members.

Usually he writes in verses. Most of the time, he writes the chorus first because that’s where he
likes to have the main message of the song. And after that comes the first verse, then the second,
and finally the bridge.

This time though, his pen flies over the paper and he leaves a mess of lines without order or logic.

it’s just that I’m so sorry towards you, because I couldn’t protect you

you who was punished in my stead

now I can’t endure it anymore

I’ve been hiding it

forget it, what right do I have to tell you to do this, or that

are you calling me a sinner?

please forgive me for my sins

When Taehyung wakes up, crust in the corners of his eyes and mouth dry, it’s one in the afternoon.
They got back from a leg in Japan a few days ago and are set to leave again in a few days but for
now, Big Hit has freed up their schedules to rest. He’s been sleeping in every chance he gets and
not doing much beyond lazing around the dorm or occasionally gaming.

He stretches out nice and long across the bed with a groan, before rolling himself out and heading
for the bathroom. After quickly brushing his teeth and washing his face, he ends up in the kitchen,
patting his growling stomach. There’s leftovers from last night in the fridge, random stuff that one
of them brought back, some noodles and jokbal and kimchi jjigae.

Taehyung piles up a plate and sticks it in the microwave along with a bowl of the soup. He leans
against the counter, almost drifting off as he waits for the timer.

He doesn’t have much planned for today, probably just gonna find whoever’s free and curl up with
them, watch a movie or something. The past few days were lazy ones too, physically anyway, but
he spent a lot of time finishing up the lyrics for “Stigma” and needs a break. A song with a
message like that puts him in a mood if he works at it for too long. It feels like months since the
last time he relaxed. For a variety of reasons.

When he returns to his shared room after scarfing down his plate, Jimin is there on his own bed,
notebook out and pen in hand. He’s struggling to pull the pen cap off, tongue between his teeth and
small hands straining. His face brightens when he spots Taehyung and he thrusts the pen in his
direction.

Taehyung takes it, pulls it open, and absently hands it back to him. Jimin laughs. “Dammit, you
opened that so easily.”

“Hmm?” Taehyung chuckles. “Oh.”

He slumps down on his bed, feeling the food coma sneaking up on him. He watches Jimin work
for a bit, wondering if he’s drafting out lyrics or doing something for fun. “Hey, I’m gonna go
bother Jin-hyung. Can’t stay here or I’ll fall asleep. Wanna come with?”

Jimin hums, scribbles something in his notebook. “I might join you later, gonna brainstorm a bit
more first.”

“’Kay. You writing lyrics?”

“Yuup. My creative juices are flowing today.”

“Nice.”

Taehyung toddles out of the room and knocks once on Seokjin and Yoongi’s door before
immediately opening it.

“Hey, punk,” Seokjin grumbles, kicking a foot out at him from where he’s on his back on his bed.
“What’s the point of knocking if you aren’t gonna wait for an answer, huh?”

Taehyung ignores him, diving into the empty spot beside him and curling into his side. Seokjin
pulls out one of his earphones and pauses whatever he’s watching on his laptop to accommodate
Taehyung’s cuddles.

“Where’s Yoongi-hyung?” Taehyung asks.

“At the studio. Someone needs to make that kid stop working so hard all the time.”

Taehyung snorts. It’s been years but the fact that Seokjin is the only one in their group who can call
Yoongi a kid still cracks him up. “He doesn’t listen to us.”

“As if he listens to me any more!” Seokjin scoffs. “I told him to rest up and he just said ‘I will
when I’m dead, bye hyung.’ The nerve, I swear.”

Taehyung’s giggles jostle Seokjin’s body, which jostles the laptop, catching his attention. He peeks
at the screen. “What are you watching?”

“Bon Voyage. The last episode came out so I’m binging all the ones I missed.” Seokjin runs his
fingers through Taehyung’s messy hair. “What, were you bored? Wanna watch with hyung?”

“Sure.”

They relax under the covers and Seokjin pulls his earphones out of the jack so they can listen from
the speakers, turning up the volume. Taehyung feels himself smiling as he watches all of them skip
down the streets of Rovaniemi on their way to a Chinese restaurant. He can almost smell the crisp
air and feel the rumble in his stomach again.

Jungkook in the video, acting like some kid on a sugar high, cackles loudly at the glare Jimin
shoots at Taehyung when he makes his terrible pun about the building ahead being a middle
school. The camera catches Jungkook glancing at Taehyung’s back in front of him before he starts
marching forward decisively. He throws himself on Taehyung, arms looped around his neck and
legs wrapping around his waist. Taehyung reaches back and digs his hand in Jungkook’s ass crack,
making him squawk and hop off. The maknae gives up on him and jumps on Jimin’s back instead,
but Taehyung runs up and stabs him in the ass again, giggling when Jungkook slides off with a
yelp.

His chest aches, watching them have fun.

“Remember the old days? Back when we first debuted?” Seokjin suddenly says, voice fond.
“Jungkook was still nervous around us even though we were already together for, like, a year by
then.”

Taehyung sighs, smiles a little. “Yeah.”

“I was watching our old Festa videos the other day.”

“Feeling nostalgic lately, hyung?”

“Shut up. You’ll get it when you’re at my age. Anyway, I was watching them, and Jungkook kinda
caught my eye ‘cause you know how he used to always laugh behind his hand? And he’d try to
make as little sound as possible?”

“Ahh.” Taehyung nods. “Yeah.”

“Such a shy boy, right? So that was the 2013 Festa, and then I watched the one from this year and
he was being so damn annoying. Fuckin’ howling like a hyena while he made fun of me.”
Seokjin’s words sound offended but he’s grinning wide with bread cheeks and everything. “But I’ll
be gracious and tolerate his brattiness if it’ll make him laugh like that.”

Taehyung’s heart aches some more now, for himself and Jungkook, and Jungkook alone, and for
Seokjin too. “Best hyung,” he says, holding out a fist. Seokjin bumps it.

“Of course. Don’t let the others hear you say that though or they’ll cry.”

“You’re allll the best hyungs.”

Seokjin huffs loudly, crossing his arms and twisting away. “Well, now I don’t feel special.”

Taehyung laughs and latches on to him. He breathes in the comforting scent of his biggest bro.
“Pleeaaase, you’re the best best worldwide handsome hyung,” he says, and Seokjin preens.

They get through the episode and are starting on the next one when Jungkook opens the door. He
stops when he sees Taehyung, his eyes big and brows shooting up.

“Oh, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin welcomes him with the arm that Taehyung doesn’t have hostage,
gesturing for him to enter. “Wanna come join us?”

For a moment, Taehyung wonders if this was a set-up, until Jungkook glances at the mountain of
chip bags over on Seokjin’s desk. “Uh...I just came to steal your snacks,” he mumbles.

“I knew it,” Seokjin hisses. “There’s a reason I didn’t put them in the kitchen, brat.”

Jungkook seems to forget his surprise and apprehension, lips stretching obnoxiously wide, leering
at Seokjin. “C’mon, hyung, just a bit. Don’t be such a cheapskate.”

Their oldest stares him down, chin tilting higher and higher as he squints. “I’ll let you have some if
you join us,” he eventually decides. “But you’re not allowed to leave the room with them, I have to
supervise or you’ll eat them all.”

At that, Jungkook’s smile drops, and he looks over at Taehyung nervously, who’s honestly sort of
offended and hurt that his presence is causing that sort of reaction. Sometimes the two of them fall
into awkward silence if they’re alone, but for the most part, they’ve been getting along decently
these days. They even text each other funny videos regularly even though they’re always in the
same general vicinity.

“Yeah, come join us,” Taehyung says, tugging Seokjin with him so they free up a space at the
other end of the mattress. It’s a small spot, the bed definitely isn’t wide enough to fit three grown
men, but Bangtan’s never shied away from stuffing themselves into spaces only large enough for
half of them.

Jungkook hesitates for a second, and then he sucks his lips into his mouth like he’s trying not to
smile. He roots through Chip Mountain before snatching up his favourite and walking over to plop
down on Seokjin’s bed. “What’re you guys watching?” he asks as he makes himself comfortable.

“Bon Voyage,” Taehyung tells him, unpausing the video.

“Ah,” Jungkook says quietly. He munches on the chips, laughing at the members’ antics as they
clean up the camper van on their last day. “I really liked that part. We should go camping again.”

“Yeah, the van was fun,” Taehyung says. “Nice and cozy.”

Jungkook sits up higher, eyes wide. “What if we rented two next time, so it’s not as cramped? And
we should drive ourselves, like, take turns driving.”

“Oh, that’d be so awesome,” Taehyung gasps. “We all need to get our driver’s licenses.”

“Except for Namjoon, he’s not allowed to drive,” Seokjin pipes up.

“Or carry his own passport,” Jungkook jokes, and Taehyung reaches across Seokjin’s body with
his palm out. Jungkook blinks at it, looks down at Taehyung’s face, and grins before giving him
the high-five.

“Yes yes,” Seokjin sighs, shoving them apart so he can see the screen. “Now shut up, children, I
can’t hear!”

“That’s ‘cause you’re old, hyung, your hearing’s deteriorating.”

“Don’t make me punch you, maknae. And stop chewing so loud.”

Jungkook shoves his face right up against his ear and chews louder. When Seokjin’s hand comes
for him, he dodges the smack, snickering.

Taehyung refuses to tame the sappy smile on his face.

The news comes in the form of a phone call while they’re in a hotel in the Philippines. It’s the
night after another thankfully successful concert and Taehyung is in a good mood, but that all
comes crashing down when he hears his mom’s shaky voice.

“Taehyung,” she says wetly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Your grandma...I’m sorry, but—I’m
sorry...”
Jimin and Hoseok, who wandered into his hotel room earlier to hang out, are both alert and staring
at him when he hangs up. The shock hasn’t worn off yet and Taehyung’s not really sure how to
react or what the jumbled mess he’s feeling is supposed to be, but the questioning, concerned looks
on his friends’ faces make him crack.

The two are immediately on him, hugging and shushing and petting him, asking him what’s wrong.
He manages to blubber out something that they must understand, because Jimin sucks in a breath
and Hoseok hugs him tighter.

As much as Taehyung appreciates their support, for now at least, he wants to cry on his own.
They’re understanding about it, helping him on to his bed and leaving with a few encouraging
words and worried glances.

Taehyung cries for hours. Until he feels numb, his mind nothing but static. His grandma’s had
some health issues for years like any person her age would, but none of them ever seemed acute
enough for him to worry. Her eventual departure was inevitable but felt so far away that it was like
a dream, like the blank space he’d draw whenever people asked him where he saw himself five or
ten years later. He’s been so caught up in living day by day. If he’d known, he would’ve spent
more time with her. No matter what it took, if he had to take some breaks or even go on hiatus for a
month, he would’ve done it for his grandma.

But hindsight’s twenty-twenty, and at the end of the day, Taehyung wasn’t by her side during her
final moments. She was one of the people who was the most influential in him becoming the
person he is today, her unconditional love and firm life lessons shaping him into someone much
better than he would’ve been if left to his own devices. She taught him the importance of being
good to people, and encouraged his creative mind. She took such great care of him. And he wasn’t
able to say goodbye.

His sobs die down, as do the tears, but then he’ll recall a memory and start all over again.
Exhaustion weighs heavy on him, but he’s unable to sleep. He doesn’t let himself.

Behind the drawn curtains, the sun rises, brightening the room. Blearily, Taehyung wonders what
time it is. Before he can muster up the energy to check, there’s a knock on his door.

He ignores it at first. But then he remembers that their flight back to Korea is supposed to be some
time this morning, and thinking about being with his family sooner has him stumbling out of bed.

To his surprise, it’s not a staff member here to wake him up. It’s Jungkook. Who has the darkest
circles under his eyes, his bottom lip bleeding from where the dried skin was ripped off.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, staring at Taehyung’s swollen eyes, and Taehyung knows the others
must have told him. He blinks heavily at Jungkook, his mouth too dry to form words.

The hesitation disappears from Jungkook’s face, his jaw tightening. He steps into the room, closes
the door behind him, and wraps Taehyung up in a bear hug. Taehyung’s face is coaxed into his
shoulder, Jungkook stroking the back of his head, and Taehyung finds himself crying again. He lets
out a pathetic whimper against Jungkook’s skin, and the younger doesn’t say anything, silently
comforting him with gentle touches and letting him cry uninterrupted. Taehyung feels his own
shoulder get wet too.

The whole morning, Jungkook and Jimin refuse to leave Taehyung’s side, sticking close enough
that no one challenges their spots next to Taehyung when they get into the van, though the others
do come over to console him in their own ways. Namjoon’s apparently already informed
management, so while they’re in the VIP area waiting to board, Sejin pulls Taehyung aside,
swathes him in a hug, and quietly tells him that a flight to Daegu has been booked for the next day.

On the plane, as soon as they’re up in the air and the seatbelt lights turn off, Jimin’s ripping open
their packaged blankets, handing them to Jungkook with perfect teamwork so the latter can tuck
Taehyung in. Once that’s done, Jungkook shoves away the armrest between them and hands his
own pillow over so that Taehyung has two. Then Jimin grabs Taehyung’s right arm, cuddling up
against him and starts rambling on about random things, while Jungkook presses up against
Taehyung’s left side, radiating reassurance, and closes his eyes.

Taehyung appreciates them both so much, Jimin being huggy and chatty to distract him, yet not
minding his lack of response, and Jungkook too awkward to know how to comfort with words but
making Taehyung feel his love all the same in the small things. Like how he gives Taehyung his
pillow since he can’t sleep without hugging something, or that he knows Taehyung is needy about
physical contact, so he does his best to always be touching him somehow, even if he isn’t as loud
about it as Jimin.

Taehyung closes his eyes too, exhausted from a sleepless night, and finally sleeps.

He commutes between Daegu and Geochang for the next week, helping out with the funeral and
spending time with his family. The members constantly check up on him, sending him video
messages after practice and private texts making sure he’s okay. Jimin calls him regularly, his
perky voice brightening up Taehyung’s day. Sometimes, Taehyung will hear Jungkook in the
background going, “Who’s that? Are you calling Taehyungie-hyung?” and then they’ll fight for
the phone even though Jungkook could just as well call Taehyung on his own. He never does
though, opting to send messages instead. Taehyung suspects it’s because he’s still embarrassed that
he sobbed all over himself with Taehyung in the hotel a few days earlier and doesn’t want a repeat;
the kid cries so easily but hates it every time. And maybe it’s just that Jungkook doesn’t really
know what to say to make him feel better anyway. He hasn’t dealt with loss like this before, as far
as Taehyung knows. Taehyung hopes he won’t have to for a long time.

As the shock of his grandma’s departure wears off and his family begins to return to their daily
routines, Taehyung’s left with more time by himself. He helps out with the farm sometimes,
wanders the fields in the evenings, plays with his cousins.

Having someone he loves so much get ripped away from him makes him think a lot. People talk
often about death, just in general or through media or whatever, and Taehyung’s always thought
it’d be this sharp pain like how they show it in the movies. The first image that comes to his mind
is of a protagonist weeping their heart out in front of a hospital bed as they look upon their dear one
for the last time, or something dramatic like that.

But for him, death is less about that one freeze-frame of pain and more about the loss, the
emptiness in his chest that follows him around. In the middle of an afternoon snack, he’ll suddenly
remember that he’ll never get to eat his grandma’s homemade strawberry pie again. And the next
time BTS wins an award, he won’t be able to call her and hear her proud laughter as he shouts in
glee.

Taehyung’s so, so happy he chose to become an idol, but times like these, he doubts. He’s gained a
lot, and also lost a lot. At the end of the day, he knows it’s worth it because even now, no matter
how much he resolves to nurture the non-celebrity, just-Taehyung part of himself, spend more time
with the people who matter and find things outside of his career that make him happy—even now,
he can’t imagine giving up BTS. Becoming V wasn’t a mistake. But he does have some regrets. He
could’ve tried harder to keep in contact with his family.
When he returns to the dorms, the members welcome him with a warmth that makes him want to
tear up, while still giving him the space to recover. Taehyung feels better after processing the death
with the support of his family, and now with his dearest friends. He’ll never forget his grandma, of
course, but mourning forever isn’t good for anyone, so he gives himself a deadline. Let him be sad
for just a few more weeks. He’s sure ARMY will understand. They’ll get it when he musters up
the courage to tell them, he hopes.

Falling back into old routines is easy, especially since their schedules are so packed. Soon enough,
Taehyung’s laughing again, hard enough that occasionally he feels guilty, because he must be a bad
person for being able to snort water out of his nose from a joke Yoongi made, so quickly after his
grandma’s gone. But then he’ll remember that Grandma always said he looked the most beautiful
when he was smiling, that he should do it more often. And Grandma would want him to be happy,
right?

“I bet she’s really proud of you, wherever she is now,” Namjoon says. It’s the night of the leader’s
birthday. The others have gone to sleep, some of them gearing up to go home for Chuseok. “The
most handsome, talented boy ever. We wouldn’t be BTS without you, Taehyung-ah.”

He cries again. They talk deep into the night. Taehyung is really lucky, he knows, for ending up in
a group with six of the best people on earth.

Some days still feel dark, and whenever that happens, Jungkook manifests a puppy that can sense
its owner’s sadness and follows him around everywhere. As the person who’s most often victim to
Taehyung’s spontaneous attacks of extroversion, Jungkook’s bound to notice when he’s quiet.

Jungkook pops into his room one evening, right on cue as Taehyung puts down his phone after
mindlessly scrolling for an hour and was debating what he should do for the rest of the night.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, eyes bright and curious, taking in Taehyung’s desk and seeing that he’s
not doing anything important. “Wanna watch a drama or something?” He’s got his laptop tucked
under one arm and three bags of snacks in the other. This is the first time he’s invited Taehyung to
hang out alone in a very long time. Jungkook’s eyes aren’t quite meeting his, but he seems
genuinely excited, a dimple appearing in his right cheek where he’s biting on the inside of it.
Taehyung’s chest feels toasty as a fireplace.

“Sure,” he says, rolling his chair over to his bed and flopping on it. Jungkook brightens and pads
over, crawling under the covers beside him. He sets the laptop between them, balanced on each of
their thighs, and jolts it out of sleep mode.

“What are we watching?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook shrugs.

“Dunno. What’re you feeling?”

“Hmm...something happy.”

“Thought you’d say that,” Jungkook mutters triumphantly. He pulls up a webpage that already has
several tabs open to drama titles Taehyung vaguely recognizes. Jungkook clicks on one that looks
like a silly romantic comedy. “I have a feeling you’ll like this, it’s dumb and doesn’t make sense.”

“’Scuse you. I have good taste.”

“Uh huh.”

The video’s all loaded up and their snacks are open, before Taehyung remembers.
“Oh shit!” He sits up abruptly. Jungkook flinches. “Wait, what day is it today?”

“Um...Friday?”

“Oh, okay, okay.” Taehyung melts back into his pillows with a sigh of relief. “Thought I missed
Bogumie-hyung’s drama. But it’s Friday, we’re good.”

Jungkook’s expression twists into something odd, conflicted and bitter and not-happy, but goes
back to normal in the next second. “Oh, yeah. I saw you tweeted about it.”

“Yeah, it’s really good so far! We should watch it together, it’s every Monday and Tuesday. Oh,
but we’d have to watch it on the TV, gotta add to the ratings, know what I’m sayin’?”

Jungkook hums and presses the play button for the video.

Taehyung’s expectations for the drama are low, but the main girl isn’t the typical “quirky,”
innocent, kind-to-a-fault dumbass, nor is she an overly capable but emotionally cold princess.
She’s just a normal person, living decently on two part-time jobs while she figures out what career
path to take after graduating. Her love interest is an old college friend who works at the same
restaurant as her. The setting is plain and edging close to boring, but their interactions are so sweet
and sincere and real that Taehyung’s immediately in love. He laughs out loud when the girl’s
practicing how to gut a fish and the guy stands behind her with arms half-outstretched, imagining a
dozen different scenarios of how he could show her how to do it while back-hugging her like in the
movies, but then the girl steps on his foot and he accidentally implies she’s fat and they start
fighting.

Jungkook copies the guy, sitting up with his arms out awkwardly, bug-eyed and mouth dropped
open. “Wh-what do you eat,” he chokes out in perfect imitation of the guy’s satoori and Taehyung
loses it, nearly shoving him off the bed.

“Oh god,” he wheezes. “Her face when she turned around, oh my god—”

Jungkook copies said face as well and Taehyung’s in actual tears.

Jimin walks into their room right at that moment, a smile already on his face from hearing their
laughter, and he hurries over to Taehyung’s bed. “What, whatcha guys watching? Show me, show
me!”

Jungkook rewinds the video to show Jimin the clip, and Jimin’s usually the easiest laugher ever so
Taehyung doesn’t understand why he isn’t sprawled over the bed crying with them. Instead, Jimin
just gives them both a fond look and half of an eye roll.

“You guys are such idiots,” he says, turning around to fetch something from one of his bags before
leaving just as quickly as he came. “Have fun~”

“Oh man,” Taehyung sighs, wiping away the wetness in his eyes. “That was good.”

“Was it that funny?” Jungkook teases, nudging him with his elbow. He loads up the next episode
and hits play.

“That was peak comedy, Kookie, please.”

Jungkookie bites his bottom lip but Taehyung catches his happy smile before he does, and he leans
his weight against the younger’s shoulders, relaxing against him.
They might’ve just fallen asleep there marathoning the drama if Jungkook didn’t have his vocal
lessons early the next morning. After they finish the second episode, he leaves with a sleepy
goodnight, and Jimin, having returned to his own bed in pj’s earlier, turns to Taehyung, staring
loudly enough that the latter knows he’s demanding attention.

Taehyung’s in a good mood, so he indulges his friend’s creepy antics. “What.”

The Joker grin he was expecting doesn’t come, replaced by a thoughtful look instead. “How’ve
you been feeling lately?” Jimin asks softly, shuffling so they’re lying facing each other, covers
pulled up to both their chins.

Taehyung thinks for a moment, grateful for the distance of half a room between them. No matter
how much he appreciates Jimin’s cuddles, sometimes they shove him too close to an emotional
cliff, and he just wants some chill vibes in his life these days.

“Good,” he says honestly. “I just...I don’t know. I feel lighter than before.”

Jimin’s eyes curve into tiny crescents. “Good. I’m sure having our little maknae trail after you
everywhere does that to you, huh.”

Taehyung snorts. “Go call him ‘little’ to his face, I wanna watch him punch you.”

“I ain’t scared of him. I’ve got two years’ worth of life experience on the brat, and a black belt.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jimin hurls a pillow at his face. Taehyung catches it and immediately swallows it up with his
covers to cuddle against his chest. Jimin bitches for a bit, and then he starts staring at Taehyung
some more, eyes going unfocused as he loses himself in his thoughts.

“Just spit it out already,” Taehyung groans, stretching out his legs until the toes peek out of his
comforter. “You’re being so obvious I can’t even pretend to not notice.”

“Okay,” Jimin says.

His tone makes Taehyung regret asking. He wants to run now. The weight of Jimin’s stare keeps
him in place.

“Did you see the song rec Jungkookie posted?” Jimin asks.

“Oh. Wait, recently?” Taehyung’s stomach drops. He’s the worst groupmate ever, the worst friend.
“No, I...I didn’t know...”

“Taehyung,” Jimin scolds, throwing another pillow at him. “It was the day before you—you know,
you got the call from your parents. And you’ve been busy after that, don’t worry about it. I was just
asking.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“Well.” Jimin pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and then holds it out to Taehyung. “He posted
a screenshot at 1:23.”

Taehyung takes the phone, looking down at the highlighted lyrics.

Please come back to me.

“Jimin-ah,” he says, a bad feeling in his gut. “I don’t...”

Jimin grabs the phone back. “The song’s about you,” he says, apparently done with being soft and
beating around the bush whenever this subject comes up.

“It could be about any—”

“If only you told me from the start that you didn’t love me,” Jimin reads out loud, and Taehyung’s
heart squeezes. “If you didn’t, why did you hold me and cherish me like that? But we have to
separate, and I have to live as if nothing happened.”

“Stop,” Taehyung says weakly.

Jimin’s mouth is open to continue on, but his expression thaws when he looks over at Taehyung,
and he lowers his phone. “Why do you think he’s posting these things publicly?” he asks gently.
“You know him best, Taehyung-ah, so you should know this. He’s emotionally constipated and
scared of all his pent-up feelings, but he can’t bring himself to talk to you because he’s Jungkook.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he spits out, scrunching the pillow clutched to his chest in between his
fingers. Jimin’s right, but what more can Taehyung do except pretend nothing happened? “I don’t
know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Tae—”

“You know, after Grandma d-died,” he breathes in deep, lets it out slow. “I kept thinking to myself
that I should put more energy into being Kim Taehyung instead of V. Because they’re both
important parts of me. But then—but—I’ve. No. We’ve worked so hard to get to where we are
today. And on some level, I don’t know. It feels wrong to be happy with Jungkook. Why should I
risk all seven of us so that I can be with him? I’ve given up things to stay on this career path, I’ve
even missed seeing my Grandma in her last moments because Bangtan means everything to me, so
wouldn’t being with Jungkook betray that somehow? I just—I don’t know, Jimin.” His bottom lip
is wobbling already and he keeps swallowing down the lump in his throat.

Jimin is scowling at nothing, clearly trying to process everything he’s said. Then he leaps up from
his bed and says fiercely, “stay right here,” before stalking off.

Taehyung waits, terrified, hoping against hope that Jimin won’t bring Jungkook here because he
wouldn’t know how to handle that right now.

Instead, the person who follows Jimin into the room minutes later, is Yoongi.

The two lock the door and settle down on Jimin’s bed. Without fanfare, Yoongi says, “You’re
overthinking it.”

“What—” Taehyung splutters, because worrying about the members’ livelihood and dreams isn’t
overthinking anything, worrying about disbandment isn’t overthinking.

“Listen, Taehyung.” Yoongi pins him with his sharp, unamused stare. “Idols date. Some idols are
gay. Some bands stay together for years and some disband immediately. We’ve had our fair share
of scandals, and either Big Hit covers it up or it gets out and we keep moving forward.” He runs a
hand through his hair, the bracelets on his wrist clacking. One of them’s a set of beads that he got
from his family, Taehyung remembers out of the blue. “Even if things don’t work out, that’s just
how life is, no one knows what will happen in the future. Do you think any of us are happy that the
two of you are torturing yourselves for us?”
Taehyung frowns unseeingly down at his mattress, fiddling with the stitches of his pillow under the
covers. “You make it sound so easy. You guys aren’t the ones with this—this huge thing.”

Jimin rolls his eyes all the way up to the ceiling. “Taehyung-ahhh,” he moans, dragging his palms
down his cheeks. “Why are you trying to act like a good hyung now, huh? Jungkookie speaks
informally to you most of the time and you genuinely don’t give a shit. One of the reasons you get
along so well is ‘cause he’s a show-offy little know-it-all and you don’t have a big enough ego to
be offended when he doesn’t treat you like a hyung. You two are equals, so why are you taking on
the decision on your own this time? This isn’t like you!”

“What do you know about what I’m like,” Taehyung snaps reflexively. He doesn’t mean it, and
normal Jimin would have been offended enough to ignore him for a week but righteous, selfless,
I’m-on-a-roll Jimin has bigger priorities.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything with Jungkook,” Jimin huffs. “You guys’ve been
getting back to your old ‘normal’ lately and that’s great. If you tell me you’re really, truly happy
with things the way they are, then I swear to god I’ll leave you alone, okay? I just—” he pauses,
eyes going glassy. “I don’t want you to give up anything if you don’t have to, Taetae. You and
Jungkookie both. You deserve the world.”

“You have a lot of...love in you, Taehyung,” Yoongi says, his face twisting when he says the L-
word like a kindergartener talking about cooties. If Taehyung wasn’t busy trying not to cry, he
would’ve laughed. “So...don’t hold yourself back for anyone.”

Taehyung’s still unsure. He’s unsure about most things in his life right now. But he nods and
promises to try to be more open-minded, and Jimin body-slams him on his bed, tugging a
complaining Yoongi with him so they end up in a big dog pile.

They lie there for a long time. Taehyung’s on the verge of drifting off, too tired to think. Maybe
thinking is where he went wrong though, he’s been doing so much of it. Yoongi and Jimin are
muttering to each other over his stomach, their sharp chins digging into the softness of it. He tunes
into their conversation when it starts to hurt, wanting to ask them to move.

“—sprung this on him too soon,” Yoongi’s saying to Jimin. “Taehyung’s been dealing with loss,
Jimin-ah. You need to work on your patience.”

“I know, I know,” Jimin pouts, cowed. “I just came in and Taetae was so happy because of
Jungkookie and I kinda snapped. They were howling over the most un-funny scene I’ve ever
watched and I just wanted to die, hyung, okay.”

“You guys know I’m right here, right?” Taehyung says using his firmest voice, but the irony
doesn’t escape him and makes him want to smile. Jimin scolding him, Yoongi scolding him for
scolding him, and it’s endearing because both of them care for Taehyung so much.

Jimin jumps like he forgot whose torso he was lying on. Yoongi winces. “Let’s order something,
I’m starving,” he says.

Jimin balks. “It’s, like, two a.m., hyung.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jimin, I’m trying to change the subject here.”

“Oh, shit. My bad.”

Taehyung can’t help it, he bursts out laughing.

Chapter End Notes

i know this chap was kinda heavy and lots to take in, thanks for reading till the end!! i
hate giving out any spoilers at all, but im so tempted this time lmaooo STAY
STRONG, ME

the next chap wont take as long, i can tell u that!!!

 Chapter 14
Chapter Notes

i'm always a chap or two ahead of what i post to keep the flow going, and this time i
didnt reach the writing goal i set for myself before posting this...but i didnt wanna
leave yall on another cliffhanger for too long so HERE U GO LOL

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jungkook’s tying his shoe when Taehyung happens to wander by, a mug in one hand, hair a tangled
mess, eyes drooping. He must have been taking an afternoon nap. His cheeks are especially
swollen today and Jungkook smirks, tempted to whip his phone out for a picture.

“Oh,” the elder says when he spots Jungkook by the door. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah, just hanging out with friends.” Jungkook gets to his feet, patting his pockets to make sure
he has everything.

Taehyung’s eyes grow wide. He straightens from his slight slouch and scans Jungkook up and
down. “Who are you,” he demands.

“Uh?”

“Jungkookie doesn’t hang out with friends. He doesn’t have friends, who are you and what have
you done with our maknae?”

Jungkook looks around for something to throw at him and Taehyung backpedals quickly with his
hands up, chuckling. “Kidding, kidding. Have fun.” His eyes squint into a smile, gentle and
genuine. Its long-awaited presence makes Jungkook’s stomach twist into knots. Taehyung’s
recently begun to smile at him like he used to before all the drama and the grief of his
grandmother’s passing, and Jungkook has come to really appreciate the meaning of ‘you don’t
know what you have until it’s gone.’ “Oh right, I remember now, you said it was a 97-liner hang
out, right?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s surprised he remembers. He mentioned it to a manager in front of Taehyung

maybe a week ago. “Yugyeomie’s my only actual same-age friend, thought it’d be nice
to...y’know. Get to know more of them.”

“Mmm.” Taehyung pauses, gaze drifting off somewhere. “Jiminie’s my only one, actually, now
that I think about it. I should meet more too.”

“You already know too many people, hyung,” Jungkook snorts. “Stop already.”

Taehyung’s eyes snap to his, his mouth curving in mischief. “Why, are you afraid I’ll forget about
you guys? Aww, don’t worry, Jungkookie, Bangtan will always be number one in my heart.”

Jungkook expects a hair ruffle with that, but it doesn’t come. And in the past, Taehyung would’ve
said that Jungkook will always be his number one, not Bangtan. Even if he didn’t mean it, he
would’ve said it like that anyway because he liked teasing Jungkook, and being as cheesy as
possible was one of his favourite ways of annoying him.
But Jungkook pretends not to notice these things because they’re not important. He’s not
disappointed. He isn’t.

He makes a show of rolling his eyes and turns towards the front door. “Bye, hyung.”

“See ya. Have fun! Don’t be shy! Make sure you actually talk! When they ask you questions,
answer with at least ten words or they’ll think you’re a dick!”

“Shut up!”

“Jungkook-ah, over here!”

“Yugyeom-ah!” Jungkook grins, arms open to receive his friend’s hug. “Long time no see, brooo.”

“Yeah, brooo. Here, you know Bambam already, of course.” Jungkook and Bambam smile and
give each other friendly smacks on the shoulder. They met and started chatting at the same time
Jungkook met Yugyeom, obviously, but Jungkook isn’t as close to him as he is with Yugyeom.
“And Mingyu, ‘m sure you know who he is, and this is Cha Eunwoo from Astro.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jungkook says, shaking the two new guys’ hands in what he hopes is a
friendly, not-too-businessy way. “Yugyeom said we’re all the same age?”

“Yes, sunbaenim,” Eunwoo says with a shy smile. Jungkook cringes, flapping both hands at him.

“Just call me Jungkook, please, I’m much more comfortable with that. And, um, what do you think
of dropping honorifics? I don’t use them with Yugyeomie or anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all casual here, Eunwoo-yah.” Yugyeom smiles. “Don’t be nervous.”

“He debuted only earlier this year, I think in February?” Mingyu pipes up, hip-checking Eunwoo
playfully. Jungkook can’t remember if he’s heard Astro’s debut song before but he’s going to look
them up when he goes home. He’s definitely heard of the band name though.

“Really? I bet you’re the visual in the group, so handsome,” Jungkook marvels. Eunwoo smiles
bashfully.

“No, no, I’m not.”

“So what kind of bingsoo do you like, Eunwoo?” Bambam asks as the five of them follow GOT7’s
manager into the reserved, private area of the dessert place. “Apparently the honey one here is
really good.”

“Ah, um, I like injeolmi.”

“Ohh, that’s a good one. What about you, Jungkook?”

“This guy eats literally anything, don’t worry about him,” Yugyeom says, throwing an arm around
his shoulder. Jungkook grins, leaning into him.

“Yeah, my members call me a pig, I’m not picky.”

Mingyu gasps, looking oddly excited. “Are you the one that eats the most in the group?” Jungkook
purses his lips.

“I don’t know, probably? My hyungs make fun of me for stuffing food in my face whenever I get
the chance.”

Mingyu gasps again, louder. “We’re gonna get along so well, dude. My members literally call me
The Eating Machine.” Jungkook laughs and returns his high-five. “Anyway, do you think they
have spicy bingsoo here? I’d kill for some of that.”

“Dunno, probably?”

After they place their orders and their respective managers have temporarily retreated somewhere,
the idols turn to a conversation topic well-loved by their peers: complaining about management.

Jungkook’s heard good things about JYP and he supposes this is proven by how Bambam and
Yugyeom comically make a huge deal out of tiny, harmless things, making the others laugh so hard
they go silent, crouched over the table and struggling for breath. Mingyu goes on a twenty-minute
rant about the utter shittiness of Pledis and Jungkook listens with horror. Bangtan’s been through
some really, really rough times, but those were mostly because of other people in the industry who
didn’t respect them, made fun of them for being fake rappers and pseudo idols, and not because
Big Hit itself was bad. Jungkook’s grateful to their company. Bang PD is strict, but he’s so kind,
and the staff follow his example for the most part, babying them like younger siblings.

An hour passes, then another, and slowly, Jungkook relaxes. He actually likes these people even
though it normally takes forever for him to warm up to anyone. Bambam and Mingyu have this
chaotic energy that reminds him of Taehyung, especially Mingyu with how crazy he gets
sometimes, the shameless confidence he has when he tells stories so ridiculous they have to be
made up.

Eunwoo is much more calm and introverted and visibly tense around people he’s unfamiliar with,
but his dry wit starts coming through once he gets comfortable. Jungkook feels a kinship with him,
he thinks they’re probably similar types of people. The kind that sort of adapt to the environment.

And of course Yugyeom, his buddy who’s been glued to his side this whole time, his natural aegyo
softening the atmosphere and drawing Jungkook out of his shell. A true bro that surrenders the rest
of his bingsoo to Jungkook when he can’t finish it.

“So what’ve you been up to lately?” he asks Jungkook, leg bumping against his. “You’re so busy
all the time, you never reply to my texts.”

“Oh, sorry. You know how it is, I always reply to texts in my head and then forget I didn’t actually
do it.”

Yugyeom laughs, shoving his shoulder. “You suck.”

“My bad, man. I’ve been doing good though, I finished recording my solo a week ago.” Jungkook
tries not to grin too wide, bouncing a little in his seat.

“For real? What’s it about?”

“Uh.” He picks up the bingsoo bowl, scooping the last bits of ice into his mouth, then puts it back
down with a satisfied sigh. His ears are heating up just thinking about the song and how close it is
to his heart. Man, he’s embarrassed already telling his friend about it, he’s so gonna want to hide in
a hole when ARMYs hear it for the first time. “It’s about meeting the hyungs. How they broke me
out of my shell and everything. Rapmon-hyung helped me write most of the lyrics because I was
struggling so hard, but we went over it together, and—yeah. I’m happy with how it turned out.”

“Awwww.” Yugyeom pinches his cheek. “That’s so cute. Did your members like it?”
Jungkook covers his mouth with a fist, grinning hard. “They cried.”

“Oh my god, that’s so freaking cute. Can’t wait for it to come out, I’ll stream that shit.” They fist
bump. “Hey, isn’t your guys’ new album dropping in, like, a few days?”

“Yeah. We’ve been practising, I dunno, fifteen hours a day.”

“I know that feel.”

“Right? The concept for our title song this time is badass though, I like it. Kinda sexier since our
PD said we’re all adults now.”

Yugyeom’s eyes light up. He leers, waggling his eyebrows. “Ooohhh, Jungkookie growing up,
huh? Gonna show lotsa skin?”

“Not that kind of sexy.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Our MV’s sort of got this angel-demon theme
going on. V-hyung had to show his naked back and they gave him some scars and stuff, you know,
as if his wings got torn off. It was so awesome, he was worried about it ‘cause he doesn’t really
like working out, but he has the nicest back. And with the blond hair and blue contacts he legit
looked like an actual ang—” Jungkook stops, noticing Yugyeom’s tilted head and raised eyebrow.
His face grows hot. “Uh. Anyway, it was...new.”

“Sounds exciting. Those types of concepts are always fun.”

“Yeah. So what about you, anything interesting lately?”

“Always, with the psychos in our group.”

Jungkook grins and sits back. “Tell me.”

“Well. I was on my way to practice with Jackson-hyung the other day, and the craziest shit
happened...”

They eat enough dessert at the bingsoo place to be too full for dinner. The skies have been dark for
hours anyway by the time they leave the restaurant, so they end up heading to a new bar in
Gangnam. It’s a discreet, classier place with VIP rooms, approved by their managers, and not too
crowded given the relatively early hour.

Jungkook sips idly at his beer, pressing his giggle against the rim of his glass at Mingyu’s regaling
of his latest prank on the Seventeen members. Somehow during the dramatic storytelling, Mingyu
spilled food all over himself, so there’s dried fish flakes clinging to his hair and floating off
whenever he waves his arms too wildly. Yugyeom leans against Jungkook’s right side, doubled
over in laughter, and on Jungkook’s other side, even Eunwoo’s laughing so hard that his eyes look
wet. Bambam’s got his phone out recording the whole thing, saying he’s gonna use this as a
reference the next time he’s bored and needs to prank someone.

After Mingyu runs out of energy, he lies down flat over the fancy leather sofa, sprawling over
Yugyeom’s lap. Jungkook knows him well enough by now to sense that he’ll be done recharging in
under ten minutes before he’s back to bouncing around.

“Bathroom,” Jungkook tells Yugyeom, who waves him off. He gets up and crab-walks around the
low table between the two sofas and ambles out the hallway. It still makes him feel weird that
nowadays, when they go out, they have to seclude themselves in VIP rooms more often than not.
At this point in his life, Jungkook doesn’t really mind being spotted by fans when he’s out and
about, and even when he is, they don’t mob him or anything. Bangtan’s on the slow rise, but
they’re not exactly up there after all.

The VIP bathrooms—which, weird, because why do “VIP” people deserve better bathrooms than
regular customers, that just seems unfair to him—are very pretty and clean. As Jungkook washes
his hands, he checks his face in the mirror. The weeks before comeback are always tough, his dark
circles especially bad in this lighting and without any makeup covering them. But he’s glad he
came out on his free day, he hasn’t gotten the chance to let loose in a while.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket and Jungkook quickly wipes his hands on a fancy towel
before chucking it in the used bin. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, grinning when he sees the
ugly selfie. “Hello?”

“Jungkook-ah.” Taehyung’s low, honeyed voice spills into Jungkook’s ear and pools in his chest.

“V-hyung,” Jungkook says, leaning forward against the counter. He avoids looking in the mirror,
not wanting to see what kind of gross, smitten face he’s making. “Something wrong?”

“No, no. Just...checking in since you didn’t answer my texts.”

“Oh.” Jungkook frowns. “Sorry, I didn’t see them.”

“That’s okay, wasn’t anything important. Where are you now?”

“Some bar in Gangnam.”

“Ohh, nice. I’m jealous,” Taehyung chuckles. He makes a long, strained sound and Jungkook
imagines him stretching out on his bed, soft and comfortable in those silky blue pyjamas of his.
Jungkook’s hit with the abrupt urge to zoom back to the dorms. He wants to cuddle up with
Taehyung like they’ve been doing so often again, blanket himself in the warmth and comfort of the
elder’s body.

“You could’ve gone out too,” Jungkook snorts, flicking at a stray water droplet by the sink. “You
were just too lazy.”

“Mm-hm,” Taehyung says, clearly too sleepy to argue. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your fun.
Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Well, thanks for the worry but I wouldn’t die so easily.”

“I dunno, you’re kinda lacking in street smarts sometimes, maknae,” he giggles. “Watch me
kidnap you and take us to Japan one day. Do you think Disneyland would let you on the rides with
your hands tied together?”

“I...” Jungkook cracks the knuckle of his thumb one-handedly. “I wouldn’t mind being kidnapped
by you, I guess.”

Taehyung goes quiet for long enough that Jungkook starts gnawing on his bottom lip and wracking
his mind for a subject change, but then Taehyung lets out this small exhale of a laugh. “Don’t
come home too late,” he says. “Sejin-hyung’s gonna have our asses if we’re not up on time
tomorrow.”

“I know. I’ll be back soon.”

“See ya later then. Or not, I’ll probably be asleep.”

“Go sleep, hyung.”

Taehyung fakes a snore and Jungkook rolls his eyes, bidding him goodnight before hanging up.

Another hour later, Jungkook’s pleasantly warm from the alcohol but nothing more than that, not
wanting to be anywhere close to hungover for their schedule the next day. Yugyeom offers to give
him a ride so he doesn’t have to call a manager or spend money on a taxi, and Jungkook grins and
accepts, letting his friend drag him into the seats at the very back of the van. “We can gossip in
private this way,” Yugyeom winks, throwing a pointed look towards the GOT7 manager in the
driver’s seat. “I have so much tea to spill.”

Yugyeom updates him on all the idol dating rumours and most of them have Jungkook reeling, not
that that’s any surprise because he’s pretty much an outsider with how close he is to other groups.
He can’t wait to go home and tell everyone, especially Jimin and Seokjin, they’re obsessed with
that kind of stuff.

“What about you?” Yugyeom asks. “No potential people in your life?”

Jungkook’s lips press into a tight line. He ignores the twist of his stomach. “Nah.”

“Why not? Too busy?”

He shrugs. “Something like that.”

“Hmm.” Yugyeom grows contemplative. He seems like he wants to say something, glancing over
at Jungkook, then looking out the window where the bright lights of Gangnam are fading for the
quieter warmth of the suburbs.

“What?” Jungkook pokes him. “Do you have someone?”

Yugyeom inhales deeply and the way the breath shakes makes alarm shoot through Jungkook. He
rarely sees Yugyeom anything less than cheerful. “Yugyeom-ah?”

“I—I don’t—I’m not interested in girls,” Yugyeom blurts out, fists clenched in his lap. Jungkook
gasps a little without meaning to and Yugyeom winces, drawing in on himself.

“Are you...wait, you’re saying you’re not interested in girls in general, or...are you gay?” Yugyeom
swallows audibly, which gives Jungkook his answer. “Yugyeomie,” he says sadly, putting a hand
on his shoulder. “You didn’t think I’d react badly, did you?”

Hopeful eyes peer up at him. “I-it doesn’t bother you?”

“Dude, no.” Jungkook gives his shoulder a good shake. “Of course not, have some faith in me.”

Yugyeom breathes out an enormous sigh of relief, the tension leaking from his body and he slumps
down, arms like noodles at his sides. “Oh, thank god, I was so freaked out, man. I mean I didn’t
think you’d be homophobic or anything but people get uncomfortable thinking about guys liking
guys, yanno, and idols are super touchy with each other and I’m pretty touchy with you so I was
afraid you’d be grossed out bu—”

“I’m bi.”
Yugyeom goes bug-eyed. His mouth falls open. “Y-you’re—”

“Yeah.” Jungkook grins at him, inexplicably smug at his shock but also happy that he has someone
outside of Bangtan to share this with.

Yugyeom’s face is turning so red it’s visible even in the darkness of the car, and when he puts a
hand on the car seat next to Jungkook’s leg, Jungkook notices he’s trembling.

“Really?” Yugyeom whispers. “You’re...you’d be okay with a guy?”

He nods, puzzled at his friend’s reaction. “More than okay.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Yugyeom mutters under his breath. He turns away, holds his head in his
hands, and now Jungkook is really confused. Yugyeom seems to debate with himself about
something before jerking up, making Jungkook flinch. Yugyeom’s hand inches closer to him, and
then it gently, deliberately rests on his thigh, close to his knee. Yugyeom’s eyes are opened wide,
mouth quivering when he says, “Go on a date with me?”

Jungkook’s jaw drops.

“What?” he splutters.

“Go on a date with me,” Yugyeom says again, more of a plea this time.

Jungkook has never been so blindsided in his life. He can’t feel his face.

“What?” he demands again, knowing he’s being idiotic and rude but he can’t—what the fuck is
going on?

“I like you.” Yugyeom stares into his eyes, hand tightening on his thigh. “I’ve liked you for a
while, but I thought you were straight. But if you—if there isn’t anyone you’re interested in right
now, m-maybe...”

Jungkook’s brain is combusting. There’s a weird moment where he wonders if this is reality, a
surge of paranoia inside him, an abrupt awareness that reality can be altered like in the movies, and
what if he’s imagining all of this? Is this a dream? He resists the urge to pinch himself because he
doesn’t want Yugyeom to take it the wrong way.

“You like me?” he croaks. “Like, romantically?”

He doesn’t even know why he’s so surprised. It’s not like he isn’t aware other gay idols exist and
Yugyeom doesn’t scream straight anyway, no offense at all to him. But Jungkook still never
expected this would happen.

Yugyeom nods, his entire face as red as gochujang. The longer Jungkook gawks at him for, the
more Yugyeom loses his confidence, until he’s shrinking in on himself and his hand slides off
Jungkook’s leg.

He looks so scared, so dejected, and for a second, Jungkook wavers. Because he knows exactly
what that feels like. It’s a pain that will make you cry in bed for days and turn you useless.

He imagines what it’d be like to date Yugyeom. They get along really well, their sense of humour
matches, Yugyeom is kind and considerate and understands how to draw Jungkook out of his head
when he’s being particularly introverted. Their dates could be at a bar like today except with the
two of them alone, or they could hunt for good food places together, check out some puppies at
shelters since it’s always been Yugyeom’s dream to adopt one.

They’d have fun at an arcade.

His stomach roils at the thought, guilt curling like a rock in his gut. His relationship with Yugyeom
would be a happy, comfortable one, he’s confident about that—but imagining it feels something
like when he’s trying to convince himself to buy a 50,000₩ hoodie instead of the 500,000₩ one
he actually wants but can’t afford. It’s like imagining how practical the more affordable hoodie
would be, telling himself he’d feel less burdened wearing it around than the expensive one. Even
though this hoodie isn’t exactly what Jungkook wants, the style is nice and his friends compliment
how it looks on him.

Fuck, he’s the world’s biggest asshole on earth. He’s disgusted with himself for even thinking
something like this, for comparing his friend to a hoodie he doesn’t want to settle for because it
would only remind him of the one he really wants.

It’s just, Jungkook can’t help what he feels. Yugyeom’s fun and nice and worth every effort to be
with.

But Jungkook wants Taehyung. Only Taehyung. No one else. He gave his heart to Taehyung long
ago, and it doesn’t matter whether Taehyung wants it or not. Jungkook is the one who doesn’t want
it back, not yet.

“I’m sorry, Yugyeom-ah,” he tells his friend, wanting to grab his hands and squeeze them in
comfort but afraid the touch will be unwelcome. He wishes he could tell him that anyone would be
lucky to have Yugyeom by their side, but he knows words like those only hurt more.

The other boy shakes his head. He’s a lot braver than Jungkook was when he was in his place,
meeting his eyes and smiling, though it’s bittersweet.

“It’s okay, man.” He pats Jungkook’s knee. “Just thought it was worth a shot.”

“I—” Jungkook freezes up, choking on guilt. In a moment of weakness, he almost confesses that he
got his heart broken too, but that doesn’t seem appropriate. He understands now why people give
the whole ‘it’s me, not you,’ speech, because it’s true, Yugyeom isn’t the problem, Jungkook is.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Oh my god, if you cry on me, I’ll start crying too and we can’t have that
‘cause I have a shoot tomorrow.” Yugyeom smacks him on the back. “It’s fine, dude, plenty of hot,
gay idols around for me to take my pick.”

Jungkook nods, twisting the ring on his index finger.

“Friends?” Yugyeom asks, holding out his fist. Jungkook’s so frantic to bump it that their knuckles
knock and he’s pretty sure his ring stabs Yugyeom hard enough to bruise.

“Friends,” he affirms.

Taehyung’s playing with his phone, draped over the couch like a lazy cat when Jungkook walks in.

“Hey, Jungkookie.” He sits up as soon as he sees him, the hair on the back of his head flattened.
Warmth spikes in Jungkook’s chest at his small, light smile, but then he gets an acidic taste at the
back of his mouth. Guilt at the fact that he won’t even consider a date with his dear friend, because
he can feel so much from a stupid twitch of Taehyung’s lips.
Taehyung’s smile drops. He gets to his feet, crossing the room to stop in front of Jungkook.
“Kookie? What’s wrong?”

Despite what Yugyeom might have thought, Jungkook isn’t on the verge of tears or anything. His
eyes aren’t burning and his nose isn’t stinging. The thing sitting in his stomach is an unfamiliar
type of upset that doesn’t push him to burst out crying. He’s appalled at the absence of tears when
he cries so readily for everything else, and he’s disappointed in himself that he feels bad rather than
actually sad.

Taehyung reaches out and cups his chin, tilting his face so they can look at each other properly.
“What’s up, Jungkook-ah? Did you not have fun with your friends? Did they bully you? Tell
hyung, I’ll beat them up for you.”

As much as he feels like absolute shit, Jungkook cracks a smile. The idea of Taehyung hunting
down his supposed bullies is hilarious. Jungkook’s been a front-seat witness to Taehyung
pretending to be a bad boy for their MVs, and he’s surprisingly good at fake-fighting, moving with
an unexpected control and strength in his limbs that’s intimidated Jungkook when his punches
come too close. There’s a reason Jimin called Taehyung a born hitter. Except Taehyung would
never have the heart to actually hurt anyone.

“Nothing happened,” Jungkook sighs, reaching down to pull off his shoes. Taehyung’s hand falls
from his face.

“Why d’you look like they stole your wallet and ran off with Gureum then?”

“’m tired, that’s all.” He pulls his face into something reassuring, hoping it’s convincing enough.
He’s not going to go around telling people about Yugyeom’s feelings for him, even if it’s his
members.

“Really? You should go to bed soon then. Shower’s free, Jin-hyung just got out.”

Jungkook hums, drifting towards the kitchen for some water, Taehyung trailing behind him.
“Why’re you still awake?” he asks his hyung.

“Got caught up playing that phone game. I have three villages now, wanna see? A cow wandered
into one of them, I named her Flower.”

“A cow—what? Why Flower?”

“Obviously because she’s beautiful like one and deserves a beautiful name. Don’t ask silly
questions, Jungkook, geez.”

He has to gulp down his water quickly to keep from spitting it everywhere, wiping at his huge
smile. When Taehyung shows him the pixelly cow with dead-fish eyes and tunnels for nostrils, his
smile turns into full-body laughter. Taehyung puts his phone away with a triumphant grin and
holds out a hand for the water bottle.

“So did ya meet any new friends today?” he asks, tipping the water down his throat. Jungkook
watches, entranced.

“Uh...Mingyu.”

“Oh, Seventeen.”

“Uh huh. He’s funny, kinda reminds me of you. And Bambam, we know him already but he’s
really chill. Tells lotsa dumb stories. Who el—ah, Eunwoo.”

“Eunwoo? Who’s that?”

“Cha Eunwoo from Astro. They debuted earlier this year.”

Taehyung’s brows scrunch up and he pouts, digging through his memories. Then his eyes go
absurdly wide, mouth open in an o. “Cha Eunwoo! I know him! He’s the pretty one!”

Jungkook’s mind comes to a screeching stop.

“What,” he says, a beat late.

“Yeah, Eunwoo!” Taehyung snaps his fingers rapid-fire, left hand, right hand, left hand. “There
was hype about him for having a perfect face or something before they debuted. Wait, gimme a
sec.” He grabs his phone, quickly Naver searches the boy, and lets out a wistful “ahhh” when he
finds the pictures. “Yeah, that’s him, I remember. Wow, he’s kind of a beaut, huh.”

Jungkook stares at him for a moment. He snatches the phone from Taehyung’s hands and glares
down at it like he’ll find something new after spending four hours with the guy today.

“He—he’s not—” he grits out.

He stops himself because he can’t bring himself to say that Eunwoo doesn’t look as good in person.
He does. He’s even more stunning in person, in fact, with a great personality to boot. Since
Taehyung’s the type to say jokes with a perfectly straight face, he’d probably appreciate Eunwoo’s
deadpan sarcasm. Eunwoo would definitely think Taehyung’s funny too.

“Not what?” Taehyung takes back his phone, scrolling some more. “Does he actually look like this
in real life? Man, he’s like, one of those people who not only has nice features, he has that aura of
being a good person too.”

Jungkook’s upper lip curls. There’s a fire rising inside of him, his previous guilt burnt to ashes,
nothing but a memory.

“What, are you his fan?” he scoffs. His tone comes out mocking but he doesn’t care. “Is he your
type or something?”

Taehyung’s head snaps up. He goggles at Jungkook, his phone forgotten, screen going black.

“Huh?” he gets out.

Jungkook throws a hand in the direction of Taehyung’s phone. “You said he’s a beaut. That he’s
pretty. Who calls guys pretty anyway? You like that type?”

Maybe it isn’t fair, but Jungkook came back already feeling like shit for rejecting one of his close
friends, and now the guy he’s in love with is calling some other boy pretty. As if he isn’t already
aware that Taehyung doesn’t want him that way.

And he knows Taehyung was only making an innocent comment and that he doesn’t mean
anything by it, but at the core of Jungkook’s anger is a mass of frustration, mostly with himself.
For loving Taehyung like a fool and hurting his friend because of it, and for thinking he was okay
with returning to a platonic relationship with Taehyung as long as he could still be with him, but
then realizing how hard it is. Jungkook’s such a fucking idiot.
Taehyung’s staring at him, speechless, and Jungkook just—something inside of him bursts, blows
up into a million pieces.

“I can introduce you to Eunwoo, if you want,” he says, keeping tight reins on his breathing so he
isn’t struggling for air like he wants to. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore but he
can’t stop, he can’t stop. He’s so mad, so jealous. It fucking hurts.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, thrusting out his chin. “Yugyeom asked me out today. He said
he likes me. We could go on d-double dates.”

Taehyung sucks in an audible breath. His eyes are big and liquid.

“What?” he whispers.

Jungkook glares back at him resolutely, teeth gritted. He can feel the tears coming. They didn’t
when he had to let Yugyeom down, but now they’re coming.

No, he refuses to let Taehyung see him cry.

He spins and marches towards his room, uncaring of whether Namjoon is there and if this will turn
into a big problem when the leader sees Jungkook in such a state. All he wants is to get away from
Taehyung before he collapses in tears like a pathetic little brat.

The room is empty, thankfully. He stomps inside, making to yank the door after him. It’s inches
away from closing when an arm shoves past, and Taehyung takes advantage of Jungkook’s
moment of surprise to barge into the room. The door shuts with a bang behind him.

He stands there as if he wants to block Jungkook from leaving but isn’t sure if he should, his
shoulders slumped and his eyes wild. His fists clench and unclench in front of him, raised slightly
like he wants to reach out.

“J-Jungkook,” he stammers. “You. D-do you...uh.” He swallows and clears his throat. “Are
you...are you dating Yugyeom?”

Jungkook presses his lips together so hard his chin trembles. He crosses his arms over his chest,
concentrates on the stripes of Taehyung’s sleep shirt.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung repeats, softer now. “Did you...did you say yes?”

He doesn’t answer, turning to glare at the wall instead.

A small part of him is screaming. He’s starting to regret this. His mouth feels like it’s been frozen
shut.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says for the third time, his voice wobbly, the smallest it’s been. “Do you
like him?”

Jungkook’s teeth dig into the insides of his cheeks. The answer explodes out of him, a furious
“No.”

But then something mean and aching in his chest forces him to say, “But I could.”

Taehyung’s wide eyes stay on him for long seconds, searching.

Then Taehyung’s face crumples. His head drops.

Horror and self-loathing slash a gaping hole in Jungkook’s chest. His heart hurts more than he
thought possible, and he takes a step towards Taehyung, arms dropping from their defensive
position.

He can’t believe he tried to hurt the person he loved. How could he be so cruel? He’s made
Taehyung cry, oh god. He’s made his precious, strong, beautiful Taehyung cry. Panic wells up in
Jungkook’s chest and he takes another step, reaching for his hyung.

Except Taehyung isn’t crying. When he looks up, his eyes are blazing, and his mouth twists
unattractively.

“Is that why you agreed so easily?” he demands, his voice unsteady. “Is that why?”

Jungkook falters. “Wh-what?”

“I thought you were—stopping yourself for us. BTS.” Taehyung’s shaking, and he looks so angry
but also so distraught. He moves back like he can’t stand being near Jungkook, and Jungkook
almost whimpers. “Were you only curious then? Were you experimenting with me, just like your
ex-girlfriends? And now you want to try with Yugyeom?”

Jungkook’s shaking his head before he’s done speaking. “N-no, no. No, I wouldn’t—Tae.” He
reaches out, for what he doesn’t know, maybe to grab Taehyung’s shirt to stop him from leaving.
But Taehyung pulls himself taller, brushing his arms aside roughly.

“No?” he demands, glaring down his nose at Jungkook.

“I wasn’t,” Jungkook says, hanging on by a thread to keep his tone away from a plea. His heart
feels like it’s burning. He didn’t even mean to say those things. He hates that Taehyung could think
he was experimenting with him, how could he think that? “Tae, listen, I wasn’t—”

Taehyung suddenly stalks forward, shoving Jungkook against the wall. “Date me,” he hisses, big
and tall and scary, even though the two of them are the same size. His hands come up like claws,
pressing Jungkook’s shoulders hard into the wall. “If you wanna try with someone, then try with
me, Jungkook.”

Jungkook feels like his mind’s floating away from his body. What did Taehyung just say? What
did he say?

“If you can be with him, then be with me!” Taehyung’s getting loud, his anger still there but giving
way to something more desperate, his eyes and mouth imploring. “Jungkook.”

Jungkook finally finds his voice but it comes out tiny and choked, blocked by his stupid, stubborn
throat closing up. His eyes sting so badly, blurred by tears.

“You’re the one that didn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, and he wants to shove Taehyung away
from him, he could do it, he has the strength for it. But when his hands come up, they curl around
Taehyung’s arms instead.

“For Bangtan!” Taehyung shouts, squeezing Jungkook’s shoulders and shaking him once. “For our
hyungs, for you, because I want to protect you! But if you’re gonna be with Yugyeom then what’s
the point?!” He heaves for breath, his eyes red-rimmed. “If people find out, it’s still two idols, two
men dating, we’re done anyway! So be with me instead.” Taehyung wraps his arms around
Jungkook’s neck and yanks him into his chest.

Jungkook gasps, crushing himself against Taehyung’s body, arms curling around the older man’s
middle to hug him as tightly as he can. He presses his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung. Taehyung. Jungkook hasn’t touched him like this in so long. He’s so desperate, he feels
like he’s about to tear out of his skin trying to get closer.

“Be mine,” Taehyung whimpers, pressing kisses over his ear. “You mean so much to me. Please.
Don’t go to Yugyeom. Be mine, Jungkook-ah.” He doesn’t sound mad anymore, but that’s almost
worse because now there’s only hurt and fear left. Did Jungkook do this to him? He didn’t realize
he had such power, but he recognizes the pattern so well, the spike of anger that Taehyung always
lashes out with to protect himself, and the way he breaks down so quickly afterwards, unable to
hold on to the façade even though he hates letting other people see him sad.

Jungkook’s eyes squeeze shut and he shakes his head. He tries to wrap his head around what’s
happening, dazed from the turn of events.

But Taehyung must take that as his answer because he goes rigid. Jungkook hears his breath hitch
in his throat.

“W-wait,” Jungkook manages, fisting the back of Taehyung’s shirt, afraid he’ll walk away. “You
want m-me?”

Taehyung pauses, only for a second before he nods.

Jungkook wants to pull back, he wants to look him in the face as he answers, but Taehyung lets out
the most pitiful sound when he tries. He clings to Jungkook’s neck stubbornly.

Jungkook thinks he should take some time first to gather his thoughts. Does Taehyung want to
date? Who does he want to tell, are they going to let the members know? What about Bang PD?
What if Taehyung changes his mind? Who’s to say that a few months down the line, he’s not going
to find Jungkook in his room and tell him this was a mistake again?

He thinks all of these things but really, he’s made his decision. None of that matters, the hurt can
come for him later if it needs to.

Taehyung says he wants him.

He pulls back and cups the other boy’s chin in his hands. Taehyung finally meets his eyes, his
expression drawn and full of dread.

Jungkook leans in and presses their lips together.

There’s a small gasp between their mouths as Taehyung fails to respond, his lips parted in shock.
Jungkook tilts his head, kissing those soft lips with all the longing he’s pent up in his heart over
these last few months.

“Okay,” he whispers against Taehyung’s mouth, eyes closed, still afraid. The elder is frozen in his
arms for a moment longer, like he’s waiting for Jungkook to take it back.

And when he realizes this is actually happening, he groans out, “oh,” a sound of relief, before he’s
tipping his head the one inch for them to kiss properly. Jungkook sinks his fingers into the hair at
the nape of his neck, melting into him. “Jungkookie,” Taehyung murmurs into his mouth in the
tiny pauses between kisses. And then again, “Jungkookie.”

Jungkook lets out a high-pitched, questioning hum, wanting to hear what Taehyung has to say but
unwilling to stop kissing him.
“Missed you so much,” Taehyung confesses against his lips.

The lump in Jungkook’s throat rises until he chokes on a sob and his head falls back against the
wall, every muscle in his arms working to keep Taehyung as close as physically possible. They’re
pressed together, chest to chest and hip to hip, and Jungkook’s glad for both the proximity and the
wall behind him because his knees feel weak.

“Me too,” he chokes out as Taehyung rains tiny pecks over his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids.
“Missed you, Tae.”

He lets his mouth fall open when Taehyung’s lips get close to his again and Taehyung draws him
into a deep kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth. A whine comes out of the depths of Jungkook’s
chest. His face heats up at the embarrassing sound, almost snapping him out of the moment, but
Taehyung seems to like it, dragging their tongues against each other with a moan. It feels so good,
Jungkook would be afraid he’d get a heart attack from the jackrabbiting of his pulse, but the
simultaneous warm numbness spreading through his limbs balances it out somehow.

He’s kissing Taehyung, Taehyung feels like heaven, they’re attached to each other and he’s so
close, Jungkook loves having him this close. He smells like home.

The sounds of their kisses fill the dim room, lit by a single lamp. It doesn’t feel cute or romantic
though, Jungkook’s been desperate to do this too long for that, and now that he has it, he might cry
if he can’t keep Taehyung's mouth on his for a while longer, their tongues tangled. They kiss until
their lips are hot and swollen, clutching each other tight to their chests.

When they separate to pant against each other, Taehyung presses his nose to Jungkook’s, watching
him with those shiver-inducing eyes. Jungkook tries not to cower, intimidated by the depth of his
own feelings. He doesn’t voice his love or the other million mushy things he could say. His pride
won’t let him surrender everything yet, he refuses to give his vulnerability the chance to ruin
anything.

“Mine,” Taehyung whispers, arms curled around his neck possessively, trapping him.

And really, it’s Jungkook nature to hate being made to do things, to hate being told what to do or
who he is or what he should be when he already has a hard enough time figuring those things out
without everyone telling him.

But there’s no denying that he belongs to Taehyung. Even if he won’t admit it to anyone but
himself.

He thinks about ignoring the statement at first, brushing it off like he does for everything else, or
kissing Taehyung to shut him up. But then he remembers the defeat on Taehyung’s face and the
emptiness in his eyes when he asked Jungkook if he liked Yugyeom, and Jungkook can’t bear to
leave him hanging.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles, determined, with that tinge of shyness he can’t get rid of with
Taehyung so close and looking at him like this.

Taehyung’s serious face cracks, his warm smile peeking through like lava out of the fissures of a
volcano: glowing, beautiful, deadly. And fuck him, Jungkook’s already starting to write cheesy
lyrics in his head again.

“Mine,” pops out of his mouth again, so quietly he can barely hear it himself. He didn’t even mean
to repeat it, it was humiliating enough the first time. The heat that surges up inside him is the kind
 that consumes his entire face, and he doesn’t want to look up at Taehyung because he’s so fucking
embarrassed, but he has to see his reaction. Taehyung wouldn’t mind being called his, would he?

When he finally works up the nerve to peek at him, Taehyung is tracing Jungkook’s features with
his eyes, adoring and loving. The same look that’s plagued both Jungkook’s brightest dreams and
darkest nightmares.

“Yours,” Taehyung agrees. And pulls him into another toe-curling kiss.

Chapter End Notes

IM A DAY LATE FOR HALLOWEEN AHH SAD

thanks so much for reading, and lemme know what u think!! :D

 Chapter 15
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Taehyung is gorgeous any time of the day, all times of the day, but something about the morning
light in particular makes his beauty, like, transcend humanity. Maybe it’s the hope of a new day
ahead making everything bright and sparkly.

Jungkook physically cringes at his own thoughts. Fucking ew, what the hell is wrong with him? He
doesn’t even like mornings. Just because he got to kiss Taehyung a little last night doesn’t mean he
needs to start waxing poetic about his single monolid or whatever, ugh.

It’s a miraculous morning where Jungkook woke before his alarm so he lies there for a bit, just
watching Taehyung like a creep. The object of his infatuation probably senses his gross staring
because he starts to stir, face wrinkling in protest, unwilling to let go of sleep.

Another few delightful minutes pass with Jungkook enthralled as Taehyung blinks the cloudiness
out of his eyes, and when they focus on Jungkook, the older man’s face splits into the hugest, more
adorable smile. Just like the one that wowed Jungkook all those years ago when he saw it for the
first time.

“Jungoo,” Taehyung murmurs, reaching over to rest his arm over Jungkook’s waist. His cheek is
smooshed against one of Jungkook’s extra pillows, making his lips pucker out like a fish. Jungkook
wants to take a picture so bad, commemorate this occasion, but he has no idea where his phone is
and there’s no way he’s moving.

“Morning,” he says, putting in serious effort not to smile too hard himself when Taehyung beams at
him with the power of a thousand suns.

They watch each other for a while. It’s scary how Jungkook’s insides turn into goo with something
as simple as this. Before they’re awake enough to talk or do anything else though, the bedroom
door opens and Namjoon peeks his head in, taking in their mussed, sleepy states with a smile.

“Time to get up, kiddos, we gotta be at the cars in twenty.”

Taehyung groans in agreement, but as soon as Namjoon’s gone, he scoots the scant inches over to
bury his face in Jungkook’s neck, who feels like he’s about ready to ascend to the heavens.
Twenty-four hours ago, he would’ve never imagined that this could happen, and reality is only
now starting to set in.

Jungkook gulps when he feels Taehyung press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He carefully hugs
Taehyung closer to him.

He could totally cry in happiness.

They’re ferried from one location to another, eventually ending up at MBC to pre-record for the
Hallyu festival. As they wait for the final preparations to be finished backstage, Jungkook gets
bored and starts dancing to “Run” in huge, exaggerated movements, making Hoseok and Jimin
squeal in laughter. Yoongi watches for a bit, his smile getting gummier and gummier until he joins
in, mouth open in a grin while he copies Jungkook in that tiny way of his. Namjoon shakes his
head at their antics, but bursts into laughter when Taehyung returns from the washroom and skids
over to the scene, immediately joining them with his own wiggly dance.

After the recording, Jungkook ambles back to the changing room he was assigned with Jimin,
Yoongi, and Seokjin. The two older members head off to their side where their stuff is piled up,
hyped about some fishing game they both downloaded recently, and Jimin follows Jungkook to
theirs.

“So,” Jimin says as he casually shucks off his pants. “Taehyung looked fine today.”

Jungkook trips over his own foot in the middle of changing his shoes. “What,” he squeezes out
through choked laughter. When Jimin raises an eyebrow at him, his chuckles turns nervous. “Well
—yeah, V-hyung looks good with blond hair, doesn’t he.”

Jimin’s eyes crinkle with his shit-eating grin. “I meant fine as in ‘doing well,’ Jungkookie, not
‘mmm so hot I wanna lick him,’ but I guess your mind is kinda one-track, huh. My fault, I
should’ve been more specific.”

Jungkook splutters. “You—you did not mean it that way!” He lobs a shoe at him, growling when
Jimin nimbly jumps back even with one leg still stuck in his pants. “You said it like that on
purpose!”

Jimin giggles loudly and Jungkook whirls around to hide his face and starts tearing his clothes off,
the faster the better so he won’t have to suffer Jimin’s existence for too long.

“I saw you guys cuddled up in bed this morning,” Jimin says matter-of-factly, because of course he
isn’t done ruining Jungkook’s life yet. But then his voice softens when he asks, “Everything
okay?”

A swarm of tingles races up Jungkook’s arms, goosebumps following its trail. Just thinking of
Taehyung kissing him yesterday and falling asleep next to him and waking up to him is making his
body malfunction.

“Yeah, fine,” he says nonchalantly, still not looking at Jimin.

There’s a pause in which Jimin clears his throat, obviously debating with himself over whether he
should voice whatever he’s thinking. Jungkook’s a bit scared to hear it but he’s also feeling
merciful today. Which totally has nothing to do with the amazing happenings of last night. Yeah.

He turns to look at Jimin flatly. “What, Jimin-ssi.”

Jimin huffs and rolls his eyes. He ponders for a moment longer, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Nah, never mind.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says and immediately starts gathering up his stuff, knowing his hasty retreat
will only make Jimin more curious, and for once in his life Jungkook is willing to answer whatever
mortifying questions he has. He bites back his smirk, waiting for the other to crack and take the
bait, but he surprisingly doesn’t. When he chances another look at his hyung, he finds him wearing
this odd expression, like he’s happy but also sort of hesitant about it.

“Are you...and...Taehyung. Um.” Jimin bites his lip. He averts his eyes quickly, fumbling around
to put his stage clothes back on the hangers. “No, never mind. I was just—do you guys wanna grab
food together? I’m hungry.”

Jungkook tries not to frown. “...Sure.”

He follows Jimin out of the changing room, waving goodbye to Yoongi and Seokjin with promises
to see them in the dorm later tonight, then head down the hallway towards the others’ room. Inside,
Taehyung’s almost ready to go and Hoseok and Namjoon are chatting away in a corner.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, lighting up when he sees them. “What’s happening now? Are we getting
dinner?”

He’s glowing, delighted to see them, his eyes lingering on Jungkook. Jungkook looks away,
butterflies erupting in his stomach.

As the other two chatter on about dinner, his thoughts veer back to Jimin's question, and he’s swept
over by a sudden wave of uneasiness, the flutters in his stomach changing into something heavier,
sour.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure what he and Taehyung are doing. Earlier, if Jimin had
finished his thought, whatever it was, would Jungkook have been able to answer? All he wants to
do right now is drag Taehyung somewhere so they can have alone time. He hates this, this
unsteadiness, he feels unsafe not knowing when the ball will drop, and the irony hurts because
Taehyung has always been the person he’s felt safest with. Jungkook will take whatever
Taehyung’s willing to give him but he needs to know what he’s getting into first.

On the drive to the restaurant, Taehyung goofs off with Jimin, his laughs loud, free like a weight’s
been lifted from him. Jungkook’s apprehension doesn’t go away but he loves how happy Taehyung
is regardless, and a tiny, hopeful part of him wonders if it’s because of him.

“Whoa, are we getting steak?” Taehyung gapes when they pull up on the curb. “No way. Hyuung!
What’s going on?” he cries, throwing off his seatbelt and smacking their manager on the shoulder.

“Bang PD-nim says you guys’ve worked extra hard this comeback,” their manager says, twisting
around in the driver’s seat to smile proudly at them. “Eat up, you guys need all the energy you can
get. Your hyungs will be coming at a later time, we weren’t able to book the larger VIP room so
you could all eat together.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Jimin asks worriedly. “I haven’t seen any of the staff eat today.”

Their manager reaches back to ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry ‘bout us, kids. I have to drop by the
office for something real quick, so text me when you’re done and I’ll come fetch you.”

They thank the manager profusely and stumble out of the vans, giggling at the idea of fancy steak
for a regular dinner when they aren’t celebrating anything.

“Remember back when we were trainees and I got scolded for eating salted chicken breast?”
Taehyung sighs. “How the times have changed.”

“Yeah, you and Jungkookie snuck food in all the time. Pigs,” Jimin laughs, an arm around each of
their shoulders. “Honestly, I think most of the managers knew but just felt bad for us.”

“Hey, we were at the peak of puberty! We had to stuff our faces, isn’t that right, Jungkookie?”
Taehyung reaches past Jimin to tap Jungkook under the chin. Jimin snorts.

“What are you talking about, you guys stuff your faces now too.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re still growing, hyung,” Jungkook says smugly, mirroring Taehyung’s eyebrow
waggle. “Soon we’ll have to crouch down to talk to you.”
Jimin immediately releases them both, shoving hard at their backs as they cackle and high-five
each other. “Shut up, I hate you guys!”

They try not to go too hard on the appetizers because as much as food is life, eating truckloads days
before comeback would not be smart. When the steak comes, they take a bunch of pictures, posing
with troll faces and sending them to the BTS group chat to show the hyungs the food they’ll be
getting later. As soon as their entrees arrive, Jungkook cuts up his entire steak into small pieces and
spears them one by one, humming in delight as he chews.

He’s noticed that unlike Jungkook, Taehyung usually doesn’t divide up his steak all at once,
preferring to cut as he eats for some reason, but he does today. Jungkook doesn’t think anything of
it until he feels a hand on his under the table.

He freezes with his fork inside his mouth as Taehyung’s hand strokes over the back of his, light
and feathery. At first he isn’t totally sure it’s actually his hand touching him, but then Taehyung’s
palm slides against his, so fiercely familiar.

Jungkook swallows heavily. Their fingers link. He curls his hand around Taehyung’s, loose but
reciprocating, hesitant but unable to resist.

Jimin’s face scrunches up and he points at Jungkook, his giggles directed to Taehyung. “Look, our
maknae’s getting sucked into the void again.”

Taehyung laughs with Jimin as if he isn’t squeezing Jungkook’s hand secretly where his friend
can’t see from across the table. He twirls his fork in his free hand skillfully and Jungkook has the
sudden, errant thought of oh yeah, Taehyungie-hyung’s technically left-handed, followed by that
means he can still eat while holding my hand. And the butterflies return tenfold.

“I was just thinking about something,” Jungkook mutters at Jimin when he finally remembers how
to exist. Jimin laughs and reaches over to pat him on the head.

“Such a daydreamy kid,” he says fondly. Something about his tone makes Jungkook feel guilty for
sneaking around with Taehyung.

On the drive back to the dorm, Taehyung squishes himself into the backseat with Jungkook and
Jimin takes one of seats in the middle row without protest, even though he prefers not to since
turning to face them while they’re chatting makes him carsick. Jungkook considers offering to
switch with him, but Taehyung’s holding his hand again and Jungkook wants to be selfish, he
wants to sit with Taehyung.

Though the ride back, is, like, fifteen minutes max, so maybe he’s being a tiny bit overdramatic.
Whatever, he deserves this after months of angsting, okay?

Taehyung’s long, pretty fingers fit perfectly between his, his big palm warm and smooth. His
thumb rubs patterns over the back of Jungkook’s hand, who vaguely thinks to himself that he really
shouldn’t be so affected by such innocent contact, but he can’t stop the thrilled prickles sparking up
his arm. God, it feels like he’s been starved of Taehyung’s touch for forever.

Sadly for him, they have to let go once the van arrives at the dorm, and then the three of them play
rock paper scissors to decide who gets to wash up first. Taehyung whoops when he wins, racing
into his room to grab his stuff before disappearing into the bathroom with a loud slam. Jimin sighs
and groans dramatically, but he’s smiling.

When he faces Jungkook with that glint in his eyes again, Jungkook tenses, his fight or flight
instinct kicking in. But all Jimin does is continue to smirk at him like a weirdo.

“You can shower next, actually,” he says. “I think I’m gonna go chill for a bit, watch a movie or
something.”

“Oh.” Jungkook doesn’t know if that was supposed to be an invitation to join him, but Jimin just
waves, bids him goodnight, and disappears into the trio’s room.

Taehyung bounces out of the bathroom soon after. When he passes by the couch where Jungkook’s
playing with his phone, waiting for his turn, he runs his fingers through the younger’s hair and tells
him to hurry up. Jungkook watches him skip to his room, his heart spasming in his chest. Then he
charges into the bathroom while trying not to look like he’s charging even though no one’s
watching, wondering why Taehyung told him to hurry. Does he want to play Overwatch? Binge
that drama he likes so much together? Or is it...does he wanna kiss or something?

He takes a super fast but super thorough shower (out of nervousness because if he’s gonna be
making ou—uh, in close proximity with Taehyung, he does not want to smell like sweat), and only
has the patience to dry his scalp before cautiously exiting the bathroom. He marches down the
hallway to their bedrooms, then stands there for a bit, staring at the closed doors.

Jimin’s in his room, he knows that. Taehyung’s in their room too, since Jungkook saw him go in
earlier. So what is Jungkook supposed to do now? He can’t walk in and drag Taehyung into his
own room without some kind of explanation, that would be like he’s intentionally leaving Jimin
out.

Uggghhh, Jungkook is not made for these types of complicated social scenarios. With a sigh, he
heads for his own room. He’ll ditch his dirty clothes in there first before joining his hyungs.

The first thing he sees when he opens the door to his and Namjoon’s room is two long legs clad in
silky royal blue. He follows the legs up to a torso in the same blue, and then to Taehyung’s
gorgeous CG face, blond hair fluffy over squinted eyes.

Jungkook jolts out of his reverie only when he realizes that Taehyung is laughing at him. “What’re
you doing here?” he snaps on reflex, dumping his clothes on a chair and approaching the bed
where Taehyung’s stretched out like a king.

Taehyung doesn’t indulge his little act of annoyance, instead holding out an arm. “C’mere.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment. Taehyung wiggles his fingers, his smile dropping into a pout,
and Jungkook hastily climbs on the bed, fitting himself in Taehyung’s arms. He’s reminded of the
times he was still a kid and crawled into Taehyung’s bed whenever he was sad, insecure, upset
about anything at all. He sighs against Taehyung’s neck. Feels like he’s finally home.

Taehyung pulls the covers over them both, nuzzles against Jungkook’s hair, and they breathe in
silence, Jungkook holding Taehyung close to him, so content. If clouds felt the way they looked,
this would be what it feels like to be cradled by one, he knows. A warm, soapy-smelling cloud.

However, the peace is broken when Taehyung eventually says, “Jungkook-ah.”

He sounds cautious. Maybe even scared. Jungkook’s contentedness begins to fade as anxiety
trickles in instead.
He pulls away, just enough to look up at Taehyung’s face. “Yeah?” he prompts, arms loose but still
draped around Taehyung’s ribs.

He hears the click of Taehyung’s throat as he swallows and watches him lick his lips. Jungkook is
really starting to get nervous now.

When Taehyung meets his eyes, it’s dead-on and unwavering, his mouth taut in determination.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” he asks.

Jungkook doesn’t even know how to describe the feelings that slam into him when he hears that.

Never in a million years did he see this coming. He’s never so much as let himself imagine
becoming Taehyung’s—boyfriend. His daydreams were always about the two of them being
together in a vague sense, the way it was before, holding hands where no one can see, quick kisses
behind locked doors. Something unnamed, so that if Jungkook ever had to do a lie detector test for
any reason, not that he’s paranoid or anything but who knows what could happen in life, you never
know, right? Right? Then he could confidently and truthfully say that Taehyung isn’t his. That’s
how he’s comforted himself, telling himself he doesn’t need stupid things like labels as long as he
can have Taehyung in some form or shape.

Happiness crests inside of him so suddenly and violently that he doesn’t recognize the emotion for
a split second, mistaking it for panic. And the panic is there too but most of all, he’s trying wrap
his head around the fact that Taehyung wants him to be his boyfriend. Taehyung wants him.
Taehyung wants him!

Taehyung wants him?

“You like me?” Jungkook asks, very quietly. He thinks there’s no way Taehyung heard him, but
the elder isn’t looking at his mouth when he answers, so he must have heard. His dark, dark eyes
bore into Jungkook’s.

“Yes,” Taehyung says. “I adore you. You know that, don’t you?”

Jungkook feels like his rib cage is collapsing inside him. “I don’t,” he stammers, and Taehyung
looks crushed.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah,” he mumbles, gathering Jungkook into a hug that’s too gentle. Jungkook
wants him to squeeze him so hard he’ll pop. He’s afraid he’ll float away.

“Listen?” Taehyung pleads. And he starts telling Jungkook about the hate letter, his conversation
with Minho about his relationship with his ex, and the realization that Jungkook could very well
find a pretty girlfriend if he wanted to. His fear that Jungkook was with him only out of curiosity,
and how Taehyung was scared that his affections towards a young, impressionable Jungkook led
him down a path he didn’t have to take. He stutters through an explanation of his flip-flopping
emotions, wanting to be with the maknae but ridden with guilt towards their band and fans.

“I stayed up all night thinking yesterday,” Taehyung says slowly, choosing his words with care.
His hand sears into Jungkook’s jaw, resting there as if touching him is a comfort to him. “I was
afraid I’d be betraying everyone, especially my grandma. Plus, my family’s really conservative too.
But I—” he licks his lips again, finding the words. “I know it’s selfish, I know that, but I’m just so
tired of holding back and, and wondering. I risked coming up to Seoul to follow my dreams
because I didn’t want to have to think about the what-ifs, like, ten years down the line. Jiminie
kept saying it wasn’t like me to hold myself back.” He chuckles, voice shaky. “And the hyungs,
every single one of them, you know, they told me they’re here for us. They said I should be honest
with you. Namjoon-hyung—” Taehyung begins to tear up, and Jungkook cradles his face in his
hands. “Do you know what he said? He said that if anything does happen in the future, it won’t be
me and you against the world. It’ll be Bangtan against the world, because they have our backs.”

Jungkook’s eyes are damp too now. He sniffles, overcome with love for their small family. He
sure did good, deciding on Big Hit because of Kim Namjoon.

“I want to try,” Taehyung blubbers. He releases Jungkook’s face to hug him around the shoulders
like a life line. “But only if you like me the same way. I don’t need your pity or compassion,
Jungkookie, okay? I—”

“Be my boyfriend,” Jungkook chokes out, clinging to him just as hard.

Taehyung goes rigid. When he pulls away, his face looks like it’s carved out of marble, frozen in
an expression that’s full of life, shocked and hopeful.

“I like you too,” Jungkook mumbles. It’s perhaps the biggest confession of his life. “It’s not
curiosity. No one forced me. I don’t know if it was the natural course of events, but even then, who
cares? I had so many other people to like and look up to, all the other members and the nice
managers and the staff.”

“But—”

“Look, I’ve said this so many times already. You brought me out of my shell, hyung.” Jungkook
strokes his hand down Taehyung’s back. “But if you think that’s the only reason I like you, you’re
wrong.”

Jungkook can admit that he’s not very good at speaking his mind, and no matter how old he gets,
putting his raw feelings into words makes him want to curl up and die. While he’s ashamed of it,
this is the best he’s able to do at this point. He feels like a raw nerve still from Taehyung’s
confession.

Taehyung doesn’t even seem to think his confession lackluster, even though Jungkook should be
listing all the things he loves about him to really hammer it home. That’s how he’d confess if he
had a bit of time to gather his thoughts, a bit more courage. Taehyung gets these bouts of insecurity
about absolutely ridiculous things like his singing ability, and god forbid, his position in the group.
Jungkook would never forgive himself if he became one of those insecurities too. He’s horrified at
the doubts that his hyung has been carrying on his own, knowing the weight of every single one of
them himself. And a part of him is surprised that Taehyung’s thoughts about this whole thing,
convoluted as they were, were also so exhaustive. Most of the time, Taehyung seems like a person
who follows his whims, easily distracted and impulsive, and Jungkook forgets that behind those
things, where no one else can see, is a mind full of deep considerations.

Jungkook promises to himself that he’ll come clean about the sheer mass of his feelings to
Taehyung someday. But maybe, for the time being, this is enough. Taehyung’s beaming hard, his
bread cheeks so squishable, and he looks about ready to cry again, which sucks because he’ll make
Jungkook cry too.

“Okay,” Taehyung says simply. It’s sort of anti-climactic, but Jungkook’s chest feels weightless.
He’s pretty sure Taehyung gets it now.

“But next time, can you, like, talk to me,” Jungkook chastises. “I mean, I know I kinda suck at
talking, but...”

Taehyung breathes out deeply, tucking Jungkook under his chin. He plays with one of his ears,
twisting the ring in his lobe. “You don’t,” Taehyung says. “You’re actually really articulate when
you try to be, Jungkookie.”

“...Then why didn’t you?”

Taehyung gives an aborted lift of his shoulders, kind of a shrug, kind of a sigh. “Sorry. I think I
was...I don’t know, I felt overwhelmed. And it’s a habit to protect you, you were so painfully shy
that even if you’re not—or, less like that now, I still feel that way. But you’re right.” Taehyung
releases him for a second to meet his eyes, pouty but serious. “Communication is key, right?”

Jungkook grunts in agreement. Taehyung nods at him, satisfied, and shoves the younger’s face
back into his neck. He resumes petting him like a cat. Jungkook feels a kiss against the top of his
head and it’s so sweet that he has to draw his lips tight to hold back a happy hum.

His body is a blob right now, just mush. Taehyung’s hand is so soothing, trailing up and down his
back, massaging the back of his neck, combing through his hair. Jungkook would’ve fallen asleep
if he wasn’t still lowkey on an adrenaline high from his newfound relationship status, holy
motherfucking shit. This won’t set in for a good while, he hasn’t felt the full effects yet.

He’s so floaty, his guard so low that the next time Taehyung’s hand dips into the curve of his waist
and squeezes, he lets out a little moan, squirming. Taehyung immediately stops. He clears his
throat, lightly rubbing Jungkook’s waist. “You know, I’m trying really hard to set this cute and
domestic mood, but you make it hard when you’re so adorable.”

Jungkook tries not to flush. He’s totally manly but being called adorable isn’t bad, maybe.
Especially not by Taehyung.

“Why does the mood have to be cute and domestic,” he mutters against Taehyung’s skin. He feels
it when the elder takes a big breath.

“...You’re right.”

‘Huh?’ is on the tip of Jungkook’s tongue, but then Taehyung starts to shift, sliding Jungkook off
of him to lie side-by-side, facing each other. Taehyung throws a leg over his, pulls him in with an
arm around his back, and kisses him.

They’ve done this a few times now, more than a few times, but Jungkook feels like he’s about to
have a heart attack anyway. He squishes himself against Taehyung, tilting his head to kiss him
deeper. He opens up to let Taehyung’s tongue stroke into his mouth, dragging wet and hot against
his own tongue, shivers erupting up his spine. When he moans, Taehyung reciprocates with a
shaky sigh.

They kiss like they can’t get enough of each other, uncaring of the embarrassing sounds of their
lips meeting and separating, the tiny, almost pained noises forced out of their throats. They aren’t
breathing so much as sucking in short, choked breaths.

Taehyung’s so handsome, and hot. His moans are quiet, Jungkook can barely hear them, more air
than sound. He doesn’t seem to be the vocal type, from what Jungkook can tell of their adventures
so far (but this will require further exploration, which he is eage—uh, willing to tolerate) but he’s
breathing hard, hugging Jungkook so tight he’s almost climbing on top of him. Jungkook wouldn’t
mind if he did. He might like it. He’d really like it.
And Taehyung smells so good too, he must’ve used that expensive soap they bought on a whim the
other day because Jungkook discovered how obsessed he was with the scent. It’s not overpowering
enough to completely mask the warm, human smell of Taehyung’s skin, which doesn’t really make
sense and sounds kind of gross if Jungkook thinks about it, but it’s a scent that makes him feel
good, safe, and happy.

The frantic making out gradually slows into something a little more soft and tender, yet somehow
deeper than before. Taehyung’s all around him, a leg between his, the other over his thigh, arms
curled around him like possessive snakes. His hands smooth everywhere over his body, not in a
way meant to make Jungkook hot under the collar (though he is, he’s a young, healthy guy kissing
the love of his life, don’t judge him), but more like he wants to feel for himself all the shapes of
Jungkook’s body. The lines and curves of it, the soft and the firm parts. Under his touch, Jungkook
melts into a great big puddle. Especially when Taehyung sucks on his bottom lip gently, carefully,
as if Jungkook is precious. Jungkook paints his own patterns over Taehyung’s body with his hands,
everywhere he can reach, sliding under his shirt to rub his lower back.

Jungkook feels like he’s being touched far inside of his chest, like a down blanket fluttering over
his heart, enshrouding it. And as protected as he is lying in Taehyung arms, kissing him,
Jungkook’s also teetering on a precipice. Like too much of this will kill him.

By the time he forces himself to pull away, his lips are tingling, and he quickly blinks away the
wetness in his eyes before Taehyung can notice. But he probably does because he smiles in this
loving but sad way, cupping Jungkook’s cheek in his hand.

God, Taehyung really is so attractive. Jungkook could stare at him all day. He likes every little bit
of him, and in this one moment, Jungkook decides that his favourite are his eyelashes. There’s a lot
of them, longer than the average guy’s, and they kind of stick downwards. It’s pretty. Makes
Taehyung look exactly like one of those melancholic artists from pretentious movies.

“Sleep?” Jungkook murmurs, before his thoughts can get away from him.

Taehyung smiles at him. All of a sudden, he sits up, picks up a small book lying on the floor—a
travel guide they jacked from a hotel lobby—and hurls it straight across the room.

Jungkook gawks.

The book bounces off the wall. Taehyung groans.

“What,” Jungkook says.

“I was too lazy to get up. To turn off the light.”

Jungkook’s still reeling but he manages, “You missed big-time, hyung.”

“Shut up,” Taehyung sniffs, pouting over at the book, now lying split-open on the floor. “I
should’ve used my left hand.”

“Yeah, so why didn’t you?”

“I dunno, I was forced to learn how to do shit with my right so sometimes the hands get confused.”

It’s not even that funny, but Jungkook lets out a peal of giggles, and Taehyung turns his pout to
him, looking like a puppy that got its bone taken away.

“What if I can’t throw with my left hand either though,” he mumbles sadly. “You know, like, when
 your hands get so confused they can’t do anything right anymore.”

Jungkook laughs harder, covering his face with his hands.

“Stop laughing at me, twerp!”

Jungkook falls on his back and kicks his legs in the air, still laughing. Taehyung tackles him, going
straight for his ribs, and they forget entirely about sleeping, shouting and attacking each other with
tickles.

All in all, it's a grand ol' teenage-girl-sleepover of a night. Good stuff. Ten outta ten would
recommend. Only with Taehyung though, because Jungkook adores him and would go streaking
down the street naked if he asked, let alone indulge him in a tickle fight.

Chapter End Notes

ugghh my boys i love them so much, i already know the comeback's gonna SLAY me
SCREECH

also plz note the rating change for future chaps. ive added a few tags to reflect them :)

and random side note but I have an abo taekook in the works w shy omega jk and cold
alpha tae cuz I have 0 self control
 Chapter 16

Taehyung wakes up to Namjoon’s wall-shaking snores and a cold bed. For a moment, he’s
disoriented because why would Namjoon be in his room, but of course Taehyung’s still in
Jungkook’s bed, and...

He’s in his boyfriend’s bed. Right. That’s right.

He buries his face in Jungkook’s pillow and curls up on his knees, fisting the sheets, resisting the
urge to scream at the top of his lungs into the pillow. His heart is beating too fast for someone
who’s just woken up. Does he have any family history of heart problems? He’ll need to check with
his parents, just for future reference so he can tell the difference between literally dying and dying
because Jeon Jungkook’s fuckin’ existence is his kryptonite. It’s an important but difficult
distinction.

He gets up, creeping out of the room to quickly brush his teeth and wash his face. The maknae’s
nowhere to be found but Taehyung knows he’s gotta be around here somewhere. They’ve got
nothing in the morning but a packed schedule later in the day, so no one made any plans.

He finds him in the kitchen, ear buds in and scooping cereal into his mouth, his shoulders hunched
from the morning cold even though he’s got his fleece-lined sweat pants and socks on. The sleeves
of his oversized maroon shirt are wrapped entirely over both fists, one of said fists gripping his
spoon, the other safely engulfed but for a single finger peeking out to tap at his phone.

Ermergerd, he’s the cutest fucking thing Taehyung’s ever seen.

He sneaks up behind Jungkook, claws outstretched and ready to scare the crap out of him, but his
curiosity wins out when he sees his own face on Jungkook’s phone screen. It looks like a Bangtan
Bomb video. Oh, Taehyung remembers it, it was that time he and Hoseok were in the recording
studio singing their cover for “Hug Me.”

He plops down in the chair next to Jungkook, ignoring when he jumps, and plucks out one of his
ear buds. He sticks it into his own ear, watching himself sing into the mic.

Jungkook looks away from him to focus back on the video, but Taehyung can tell from the corner
of his eye that the younger is fidgeting, either uncomfortable or embarrassed. When the song
finishes, Taehyung hands the earphone back to him.

“Why were you randomly watching that?”

Jungkook shrugs, taking his time to answer as he meticulously arranges the earphone wires into a
neat circle before stuffing them in his pocket. “I like that one.”

This surprises Taehyung a bit. Jungkook sings praises for all of his songs and covers and lots of
other random things he does, but he didn’t think he paid particular attention to this cover. “Yeah?”

Jungkook bobs his head. “It’s...relaxing, but sad. Well, the song’s sad. Your voice is really nice in
this one.”

His chest squeezes. “Aww, stop,” he whines, pushing at his shoulder gently. The heartfelt way
Jungkook compliments him is so bad for his health, plus the fact that he chose this song where
Taehyung isn’t forcing his voice down to a growl or up to killer high notes, and he isn’t using any
fancy technique. It’s probably the truest form of his singing voice, the most natural. “Thanks,
Jungkookie.”

Jungkook shoves a huge spoonful of cereal into his mouth, still not meeting his eyes. Taehyung
takes the opportunity to lean in and smack a kiss to the corner of his mouth, quick as lightning.

The heat in his face climbs at how Jungkook flinches and stares at him with round eyes, his cheeks
puffed out with food still. When Taehyung giggles at him, Jungkook’s shock melts away for
indignation, and he swallows down his cereal, lips twitching as he smacks Taehyung lightly on his
thigh.

“My pretty boyfriend,” Taehyung coos, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, just enough to get a peek of his cute top teeth. He stares at Taehyung
like the elder’s confessed to keeping dead bodies in the refrigerator.

“Sorry,” Taehyung blurts out reflexively and pulls his arm back, afraid he’s overstepped somehow.

Jungkook shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything though, chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes
flickering up to Taehyung’s before darting away. After some sort of mental debate, he scoots his
chair closer and lifts his arm, reaching for Taehyung. His palm is a little clammy when it cups the
back of Taehyung’s neck, his thumb rubbing over the short hairs there.

Taehyung has no idea what’s going on but he figures this means Jungkook doesn’t hate him, which
is excellent, yes, very excellent. The light touch is driving him insane and if he doesn’t get
Jungkook closer right this instant, he’s gonna die.

So he wraps a hand around Jungkook’s arm and yanks him over. The younger squawks but allows
himself to get dragged into Taehyung’s lap, their hips slotted right up against each other with his
legs parted around the back of the chair. Taehyung rests his hands on his waist, feeling the shape of
it under Jungkook’s thin sleep shirt. He knows his stare is probably too intense right now,
intimidating, even, but he doesn’t care.

“Hi, boyfriend,” he says. He needs to see Jungkook’s reaction to the word.

Jungkook’s lips press together, and he stares down somewhere in the vicinity of Taehyung’s
collarbone.

“Hi,” he says quietly.

Taehyung’s heart explodes in heat and rainbows and sparkles and giddiness and he grins so hard
his cheeks hurt. Fuck, he hasn’t been this happy in a long time.

“Pretty baby,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips under one starry eye. Jungkook’s beautiful all
the time, and also smoking hot, but Taehyung thinks it’s when he’s in his arms like this that
Jungkook’s the most endearing, soft and willing to go along with whatever he asks. Taehyung
wants to protect him from all the bad things in the world. He’s his baby.

A prideful one, though, so Taehyung expects him to either protest or flat-out reject being called a
baby, but to his immense surprise, Jungkook shuffles closer, his ears glowing red. He melts against
Taehyung, pressing his face into the crook of his neck, and his arms curl around Taehyung’s back.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuuck. Fuck him.

Taehyung loves him. Up to this point, he was never sure because isn’t love kind of just a social
construct, or like, a result of the natural, inherent hormone cocktail cooked up by their bodies to
make humans reproduce? Taehyung learned that from the back cover of a book that he was too
lazy to actually read.

But he thinks he might be sure now. This must be it, who even cares what the origin of love is, all
he knows right now is the feeling of his heart filling and growing and trying to burst out of his
chest. It aches, and he bites back a groan, pushing his face against Jungkook’s ear to press a kiss
into the hot skin.

They sit there for a long time, just cuddling, basking in each other’s closeness, bodies melted
together and chests moving with each other’s breaths. Taehyung’s thighs have long gone numb but
it’s hard to give a shit when he’s got the kindest, most precious man relaxed on his lap. A guy
who’s a total tsundere and would normally never let himself be so clingy, so the past few months
must have been tough for him too if he’s acting like this. Taehyung’s stomach churns at the
thought.

Two nights ago as he lay in Jungkook’s arms, listening to his quiet snores, his thoughts followed
the same path they’ve been repeating all this time, over and over again like a merry-go-round. And
in the end, he was forced to accept that there’s no real answer to his questions. No universally
correct one. His insomnia had refused to leave him alone, so he carefully replaced himself with a
pillow, too restless to stay in bed and hoping Jungkook wouldn’t wake up alone in the middle of
the night. And when he stepped into the living room, surprisingly, he didn’t find Namjoon or
Yoongi brooding there, but Hoseok, who was silently miming his part in “Blood, Sweat & Tears”
in front of the shut-off TV.

“Hyung,” Taehyung said, and Hoseok jumped, his arms scrunching up against his body.

“Fuck! You scared the shit outta me!”

Taehyung wandered over and threw himself on the couch. “Why are you even practicing, hyung,
you’re perfect. And it’s, like, three.”

“Eh.” Hoseok sprawled on the opposite end of the couch, tangling their legs together. “Wasn’t
actually practicing, just couldn’t sleep. You?”

Taehyung scratched at the underside of Hoseok’s thigh with his toenail, flicking his foot up and
down. Hoseok gave him the time to fidget and collect his thoughts, and Taehyung finally sighed,
“Jungkook’s in my bed right now.”

Hoseok sat up, his eyes comically wide. His mouth formed that cute little upside-down ‘v’ shape.

“And I’m gonna confess to him tomorrow,” Taehyung blurted out, his foot scratching at light speed
under Hoseok’s leg now. “Gonna...ask him to be my boyfriend.”

Hoseok didn’t jump off the couch or scream or cry or laugh. He just smiled. A genuine, warm,
uncomplicated smile that embodied pure joy, with none of the concern that Taehyung was
expecting. It confused him, so he asked why.

After long, long seconds, during which Hoseok hummed with his chin propped on his hand and
Taehyung tried not to vibrate out of his own skin, his hyung said at last, “There are things that
scare me more than disbandment from a scandal. Like, what if we disbanded because of a big fight
or something and we all started hating each other? Man, that’s a real nightmare right there. You
guys are my family, I don’t wanna lose that.” He pauses. “And, well, part of ensuring we stay like
this is to make you as happy as you can be. Especially if it’s for lurvvv.”

Hoseok chuckled at the ugly, stop-hyung-or-I’ll-cry face Taehyung made, and patted him on the
knee. “Taehyung-ah, you know disbandment’s the very worst case scenario, right? All we have to
do is be a bit more careful. This ain’t like Taeyeon and Baekhyun or whatever, you and Jungkookie
are in the same group, the paps aren’t gonna follow you guys around and speculate when you’re
caught together. You’re allowed to have the best of both worlds, bro. It’s okay to want it.” The
warmth of his smile made his eyes sparkle. “I’m happy you’ve found something you want so
badly, we all are.”

In hindsight, Taehyung can’t lie and say that he would’ve asked Jungkook out as planned
regardless of what Hoseok said, because he might have hesitated if Hoseok expressed any
disapproval or worry. Taehyung promised to himself to be honest with Jungkook from now on, so
at some point in the future, the confession would’ve happened, it’s just that he would’ve doubted
himself a bit if Hoseok didn’t like the idea.

Now, as he cuddles the boy in his lap, he’s grateful that he talked with Hoseok and that his hyungs
have always been so supportive of the things he wants to do.

He’s starting to think it’s okay to give in to his desires. He isn’t the subtle type by far, but he can be
careful for the sake of the band.

“Your cereal’s totally soggy now,” he murmurs into Jungkook’s hair, who instantly jolts to life,
cussing under his breath. Taehyung giggles. If there’s one thing that gets the guy worked up, it’s
spoiled food.

He immediately regrets saying anything though when Jungkook slips off his lap, shuffling over to
his bowl of cereal and staring down at it forlornly. He groans, grabs the bowl and tips it back,
quickly swallowing the whole thing. Taehyung laughs at his pinched expression.

“Whatever,” Jungkook mutters, padding over to the fridge now and fetching a couple apples. He
washes them thoroughly before offering one to Taehyung, who takes it and sinks his teeth into the
juicy fruit with glee. Jungkook putters around some more, making himself a plate of random
leftovers plus fruit and Taehyung watches him, warm from looking at him. Call him a sap but he
could do this all day.

Apparently, just looking at each other isn’t good enough for Jungkook because he comes back and
plonks himself down on Taehyung’s thighs again, back to the older boy’s chest. For the umpteenth
time, Taehyung feels like he might pass away.

“H-hi,” he manages. Wow, the embodiment of eloquence right here, Kim Taehyung. Round of
applause, please.

Jungkook turns a fraction, granting him the view of a sharp jawline that contrasts with the
perkiness of his pretty lips, a pout that has to be subconscious since Jungkook would never let
himself be that cute in a non-fanservice setting. There’s a challenge in his shiny eyes and raised
brows, demanding if Taehyung has a problem with Jungkook eating in his lap.

Stupid question because how could he possibly have a problem, but at this point, Jungkook’s
asking for it. Taehyung sits up straighter, arranging his face into mild offense. “Um, ’scuse you.”

Jungkook’s lips get even poutier. “What,” he says, matching the offense with his own. Taehyung’s
sweating. He didn’t plan out his next line but he’s already chosen his path and he’s going down
with it honourably. Forget that if Jungkook actually gets out of his lap, he’ll hate himself for the
rest of eternity, that’s not important right now.

“Lots of free real estate nearby,” Taehyung waves at the chairs around them in a motion that’s
meant to be smooth but bears an unfortunate resemblance to a dancing inflatable man. “For a heavy
boy like you.”

Jungkook turns more, so they’re facing each other properly. His pout has morphed into a smirk. He
lifts the arm not holding his plate and flexes, presumably to demonstrate the exact reason for his
heaviness, as if Taehyung is not already overly aware. Taehyung stares at the bulge of his bicep,
his mouth going dry.

“But this seat’s pretty nice,” Jungkook says, his lips twitching. “And it doesn’t seem to mind.”

He shifts, looking pointedly at something on the ground, and Taehyung reaches the sudden
realization that he’s not holding his apple anymore. It’s lying on the floor. Because both of his
hands are clamped around Jungkook’s waist as if he’d rather die than let go, which, okay, can you
blame him? If anyone’s got Jeon Jungkook actively seating himself on their lap in a situation where
there are millions of other chairs around, who wouldn’t, what the hell?

Also, wow, Taehyung’s forgotten how small Jungkook’s waist is. Huh. And, um, his ass is pretty
firm. Taehyung’s aware of this since he’s slapped it quite a few times, but it’s different when the
weight of it is molded against his thighs.

Jungkook abruptly averts his eyes, losing the cool-guy act, Taehyung realizes he was eyeing him
maybe too suggestively. Whoops. Jungkook doesn’t call him out on it though, wiggling so his
back’s glued to Taehyung’s front again, and goes back to his food. The nape of his neck is red.

Unable to resist, Taehyung leans in and presses his face against it, breathing in with his eyes
closed. The shiver that he can feel run up Jungkook’s spine makes his stomach drop and his blood
race.

Eventually, Jungkook finishes his breakfast, silent the whole time as he lets Taehyung nuzzle him
and stroke his waist. Fortunately, he gets off his lap before Taehyung does something
embarrassing like pop a boner, and ambles across the kitchen to wash his dish, but he doesn’t seem
surprised when Taehyung steps into his space, turning him around and crowding him against the
counter. The sink water continues to run, forgotten in the background as they kiss, mouths wet and
limbs entangled.

“Kids, we’re goin’ to the supermarket,” Yoongi calls, peeking his head into the living room. He’s
pulling on a thick jacket, Seokjin hovering behind him. “You guys want anything?”

“Supermarket?” Hoseok asks, looking up from his phone. He’s half-hanging off the couch, steadily
sliding down inch by inch from Jungkook’s weight squished on top of him. “For groceries?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh...why aren’t we just ordering online like usual? And doesn’t Sejin-hyung always do it?”

“We were going to, but Yoongi said they might have a hard time delivering with the construction
going on around here, so we just said we’d go fetch our own food,” Seokjin tells him. He walks
over and kicks at the leg Jungkook’s got hanging over the arm of the sofa. “Hey, maknae, come
help us carry stuff.”

Jungkook squints at his phone, pretending not to hear, but after Seokjin prods at him a bit more, he
slides off of Hoseok with a dramatic sigh.

“Which supermarket are you guys going to?” Taehyung asks, sitting up from where he was spread
over the other couch.

“The one by the mall,” Yoongi tells him. “That one has the kimchi we like.”

Taehyung watches Jimin out of the corner of his eye, waiting and hoping he isn’t feeling
adventurous enough to tag along. Thankfully, Jimin just calls out a bye to the hyungs before
turning back to the movie he put on earlier. Taehyung slinks away, catching the others by the door
before they leave.

“I’ll go too, gimme a sec to grab my wallet.”

The members don’t make a tradition of giving each other birthday presents. If they do, it’s
normally because they happened upon something that they thought would suit the birthday boy, so
they might’ve bought the present months ahead. If they’re feeling particularly sentimental last
minute, they’ll just buy something online. Shipping these days is cheap and quick, anyway.

This year, however, Taehyung wants to be extra for Jimin’s birthday. His platonic soulmate’s put
up with so much of his bullshit that Taehyung’s been saving up for months already, wanting to get
him something that’s not only special but also to his taste. He’s scoured so many websites and
added so many things to his carts, but nothing seemed to hit the spot perfectly. He doesn’t want to
half-ass a present this time. Jimin deserves something amazing.

But because he’s spent so long waffling about, Taehyung’s run out of time. His friend’s birthday is
days away and he still doesn’t have anything prepared, and the fact that the seven of them have
been stuck to the hip lately with their album release coming up doesn’t help. If he doesn’t find
something perfect today, he’s just going to have to settle.

After he explains this on their way to the grocery store, the others let him run off to the nearby mall
without complaint, and he speeds through the stores with his cap pulled low, mask obscuring his
face, a manager tagging along behind him. Luckily, the mall’s a quiet one, more of a department
store carrying exclusively high-end brands which don’t entertain many customers past dinnertime.
Taehyung races straight to Gucci, his favourite, and hello, who with taste doesn’t love Gucci?

His heart sings when he finds some pretty, quirky sweaters that would look super cute on Jimin.
Yes. This is the type of shit he was looking for. Not the basic, boring stuff that you’d see twenty
copies of walking down the street, just because it happens to be “the latest trend” or whatever.

He must spend a longer time in the store than he expected, because he gets a text from Seokjin
saying they’ve fetched all the groceries and that Taehyung doesn’t have to rush, they can wait in
the car or come join him if he’ll be a while longer.

“Ahh,” he groans to himself, shifting his weight from foot to foot and staring down at the three
sweaters he’s laid down on the display table. He doesn’t think he’ll take long enough to warrant
the lecture they’d get from management about four members spontaneously going shopping
without bodyguards, but he also doesn’t want to make them wait in the car.

Before he can decide, there’s an arm around his shoulders.

Jungkook grins at him, his nose-scrunch barely visible under his bucket hat. “I knew you’d be
here,” he drawls.

Taehyung’s answering smile comes out like a reflex despite how rushed he felt just seconds ago.
“Jungkookie...what are you doing here?”

“Ditched the hyungs,” he says conspiratorially, his eyebrows bouncing up and down.

“Haha—wait, seriously?”

“Just kiddinggg,” Jungkook cackles. “I took all the groceries to the car and told them I was gonna
come find you.”

“Hmm. What a good boy.” Jungkook preens. Taehyung pets the back of his head absentmindedly
as he turns back to the sweaters. He has no idea which one his wonderful Jimin would like better.
He frowns, sighs, crosses his arms over his chest and takes another sweep of the store, squinting.
Jungkook makes a funny squeaking sound and Taehyung glances over to see him gaping at the
price tag on one of the sweaters.

“I knew Gucci was bougie but I didn’t know it was this bougie,” he wheezes. “Jimin-hyung’s
gonna be so shocked.”

“It’s okay.” Taehyung mutters. “I’ve been saving up for him.”

“Wow, Taehyung-ssi. What a bro.” Jungkook’s eyes glitter at him from under his hat, his gaze soft
and warm. “So are you debating between these three?” he asks, holding the sweaters up one by
one, scrutinizing them. “They look good, hyung. As expected of our resident fashionista.”

Taehyung snorts.

“It’s true! You have a unique style.” Jungkook looks at him with something like defiance, his
mouth pulled into a frown.

“Thanks,” Taehyung mumbles. “I dunno, I feel like they’re missing that bit of oomph though.”

Jungkook hums, tilting his head left and right as he studies the sweaters some more. Then he
carefully collects them by their hangers, draping them over one arm. “Let’s take another look
around then. I saw this, like, tiny, hidden corner over on the other side, did you check there
already?”

Taehyung makes another round of the store, Jungkook following behind him like a puppy with the
three sweaters over his arm, poking at the clothes with fancy material and snickering when he sees
one with an over-the-top design. There really was a corner that Taehyung missed out on by the
second entrance of the store, and he gasps when he finally spots the perfect sweater.

It’s white with a loose, round-ish fit, the collar and hems lined with navy and red stripes. In the
center is a simple line art design of a skull with two “G”s for its eyes.

“Isn’t this part of the women’s section?” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind him.

“No idea. Who cares though, it’s so cute!” Taehyung plucks the sweater up by the shoulders and
holds it against Jungkook’s chest. “God, tell me this wouldn’t totally be adorable on Jiminie.”

Jungkook smiles down at himself. “You’re right.”

“Okay, this obviously isn’t his size, it’s tiny. Ah, it’s women’s sizing, probably.” He rifles through
the stack until he finds one that seems like it’d fit. “Dammit, what do we do, where’s Yoongi-
hyung when you need him?”

“Here,” Yoongi deadpans.

Taehyung yelps and jumps back. They both whirl around, Jungkook’s hands out like he’s ready to
fight.

“What—hyung, when’d you get here?” Taehyung demands.

“You never texted us back, kid. And Jungkook insisted on looking for you so we just decided to
come too.” Yoongi thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards Seokjin, who’s roaming the store.

“Oh. Right, sorry.” Taehyung holds up the sweater sheepishly. “We’re almost done, I promise! Do
you mind quickly trying this on? You’re closest to Jiminie’s size.”

“Tiny,” Jungkook whispers helpfully.

“Fine,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his jacket off.

After they make sure the sweater’s good, Taehyung hurries off to the till to pay. It physically pains
him to do aegyo in a non-fan-related situation and he highkey sucks at it, but he does his best,
asking the shop noonas to wrap it prettily. He ignores Jungkook’s scoff from beside him. At least
the lady seems charmed, giggling as she pulls out a gift box and asks Taehyung what colour tissue
paper he’d prefer.

“What was that free fanservice, huh?” Jungkook nudges him on their way back to the parking lot.
“Practicing your aegyo for ARMY lately?”

“I was debating between that and giving her my sex stare and super low voice, but I can’t pull that
off in public without dying, so.”

A hand wraps around his shoulder, squeezing hard. “Don’t do that crap, it’s so embarrassing I can’t
watch,” Jungkook mutters, sounding so vengeful that Taehyung giggles, heat rising from his chest
up his neck. Sure, Jungkook, suuure, he thinks to himself. It hasn’t escaped his notice that
Jungkook always approves of his shitty aegyo when they’re forced to do it during promotions, even
when the other members curl up in disgust, so he should really stop pretending he isn’t just jealous,
he ain’t fooling no one.

“You did good today, my little helper,” Taehyung says, leaning into him, the younger’s arm
curling around both of his shoulders now.

“I didn’t do anything, hyung. It was all you.”

“Okay, true that.”

Jungkook pinches him under the chin.

Their debut stage for “Blood, Sweat and Tears” comes and goes as does Jimin’s birthday, which is
accompanied by lots of spanking and bashful thank you’s, along with ginormous, shocked puppy
eyes when Jimin opens Taehyung’s gift box. He wears the sweater proudly, and they take a bunch
of pictures and videos, posing like supermodels one second and switching to meme faces in the
next.
One night, Taehyung’s lying on Jungkook’s bed, waiting for him to finish showering so they can
watch something together. Jungkook stalks into the room shirtless with water dripping down his
chest, wearing that expression he makes when he’s trying to act nonchalant but is actually fully
aware of each tiny shift of his body, subtly flexing. Taehyung hates him so much.

Honestly speaking, the transition from friendship to things like this is smoother than he expected,
but then again it’s not like they weren’t doing similar things already. Before the confession,
Taehyung still ogled shirtless Jungkook, and Jungkook still purposefully gave him ample
opportunity to do so. So nothing’s actually changed, except the added benefit of getting to act on
their desires. Also, Jimin’s bitched at him several times about how disgustingly clingy Taehyung
and Jungkook are with each other, even platonically, okay, he’s not surprised after all, on second
thought.

Jungkook pulls on his pyjamas and jumps on the bed, grinning smugly at him because Taehyung
wasn’t subtle about checking him out, and Taehyung thinks he must be mentally ill if he’s so
endeared by a fully grown man being such a brat.

The sentimentality of his thoughts makes him reach over and fiddle with the hem of Jungkook’s
sleep shirt. “Hey,” he says haltingly. “So, uh. I was thinking...”

“Mmh?”

He blows out a long breath, wondering if he’s springing this on Jungkook too soon. Jungkook rests
his hand gently over Taehyung’s shoulder, and then slides it over to the back of his neck, squeezing
him reassuringly. “Yeah?”

“Well...I thought maybe we could tell the hyungs. About. Um.” Taehyung gestures stiffly between
them. “If you want. It’s not a big deal though, I think they kinda know already anyway.”

“Oh.” Jungkook blinks. He worries his lower lip between his teeth for a bit, then shrugs. “Okay.”

“...Are you sure?”

He bobs his head. “Yeah. I mean, it’s just the hyungs, right? Yoongi-hyung and Jimin-hyung for
sure already know, and the others, mm, I’m—” He stops, gathering his thoughts. “I used to be
worried about what they’d think. But that seems unfair to them, they’ve never been anything but
understanding.”

Taehyung nods fiercely.

“Yeah...and since this is, you know. A, uh, more...p-permanent arrangement...” Jungkook’s eyes
dart up to his as if he’s worried Taehyung will disagree, so Taehyung quickly nods again, sending
him yes, very permanent, so permanent, I’m not running anymore vibes. “Yeah,” Jungkook says
quietly. “Let’s tell them.”

And that’s how they end up inviting all the members to movie night. They peek around the
hallway to make sure everyone’s sat in the living room, and then they march in with their hands
intertwined. Taehyung’s face is about the temperature of hell and Jungkook looks the same, and
the others either don’t notice or give a shit that they’re holding hands until the two of them stand in
front of the TV and Taehyung awkwardly clears his throat.

The hyungs gape at them with varying degrees of surprise, confusion, and smugness, before Jimin
and Hoseok leap straight at them. They collapse under their weight, grinning at each other as the
two screamers fulfill their duty and scream loud enough to scare their neighbours, probably. After
they break out the alcohol, Yoongi gets drunk enough to shed a tear or two. Namjoon rants at them
about the philosophies of true love for a solid half hour. Seokjin brings out the snacks he’s been
hoarding for a month and boasts that everything went according to plan.

The next morning, Namjoon suggests they tell Bang PD too, so they give him a call to set up a
meeting. Sadly, their vocal lessons are staggered so they aren’t able to go together, and Taehyung
can only act like he isn’t scared shitless as he shows himself into the office.

It’s not bad though. Nothing bad happens at all, in fact. He leaves with the distinct feeling that
Bang PD has known for a while too, oh god, just kill him now, how obvious must he have been?

“He said I shouldn’t be toooo clingy,” he tells Jungkook that night when they meet up in the
younger’s room. “But some touchiness is still okay since skinship isn’t bad for our image anyway.
Oh, and he said they’ll start cutting scenes out or panning the camera away if we’re...too extra or
whatever. Which, er, they’ve apparently been doing already.” He flushes.

Jungkook’s been strangely quiet the whole day. He doesn’t offer anything but a hum of
acknowledgment even now, and Taehyung pokes his cheek. “Kookie?”

“Eh?”

“What’d he say to you when you went?”

Jungkook hesitates for a split second. Then like a dam’s broken, his face bunches up into the
biggest, poutiest scowl Taehyung’s ever seen, and Jungkook hurls himself on to the bed.

“He told me not to look at you,” he moans, kicking his legs.

Taehyung stares, the words rolling around in his head. A tiny giggle escapes him.

“It’s not funny! He said my hear—I mean, my eyes were too obvious or something, so if I couldn’t
control it then I should just try to look at you less! What does that—how am I—”

Choking back the laughter is a feat more physically challenging than a lot of things Taehyung’s
done, but he tries anyway. “Aww, p-poor baby.”

“Shut up!” Jungkook growls, launching a pillow at him.

“I wonder what he’s talking about though. Heart-eyes, huh? Might need to see those for myself to,
you know, judge how bad they are.”

Jungkook groans loudly, stuffing his face in the mattress, his hands covering his ears. Taehyung
slides down the bed to wrap himself around his back, cooing.

“Kithes pleath.” He puckers his lips.

Jungkook lifts his face to glare at Taehyung over his shoulder. “No.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“No.”

“Jungkooook,” he coaxes. “Jungkookiiee. Jungkookiiiiieee. Jung. Kookie. Kithes!”

A growl of frustration rumbles from Jungkook’s throat and he bucks Taehyung off his back, who
lands on the mattress with a yelp.
“You’re so annoying, Tae,” he complains, throwing an arm and leg over Taehyung, before pressing
the gentlest kiss to his mouth. Taehyung melts into a puddle. Jungkook always treats him so
gently.

“Mm, not my fault you’re cute,” he murmurs when they break apart, his hands coming up to sink
into Jungkook’s short, fluffy hair. Jungkook huffs and kisses him again, his mouth opening so he
can sneak his tongue into Taehyung’s, tracing over the back of his teeth.

Taehyung snakes his arms around him, their lips moving together as he lets out a content hum. He
allows himself to enjoy Jungkook’s soft kisses for a few minutes, sucking on his bottom lip, loving
the way it gets all plump and pink.

Right as Jungkook’s body is going lax, Taehyung mutters against his mouth, “I know you’re just
trying to shut me up,” and he smirks triumphantly when Jungkook groans. Annoying him gives
Taehyung’s life meaning, he could make a career out of it.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, pulling away to glare at him seriously. He looks like an angry bunny
in his big sleep clothes, bangs brushing against his eyes. How can a human being be so damn
precious, Taehyung truly doesn’t understand. “I’ll leave,” Jungkook threatens.

“This is your room.”

“So? I’ll go sleep with someone else.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Jungkook makes to get up.

“Aww, babyyy,” Taehyung instantly starts whining, dragging him back down. “Okay, okay, I’ll be
nice, promise.” He puckers his lips again. “Moar kithes.”

Jungkook scrutinizes him for a moment, his eyes slits. “Why should I,” he says, but he doesn’t
protest when Taehyung wraps around him like an octopus again. And Taehyung has a question he
really wants an answer to, but he doesn’t want to risk losing his smooches, so he whispers it into
the skin under Jungkook’s ear, making his tone as light and accepting as it can go.

“Are you mad because I was teasing about your heart-eyes, or because I wasn’t concentrating on
kissing you?”

Jungkook freezes. It’s obvious the boy forgot completely about the heart eyes comment, and
Taehyung sucks on the insides of his cheeks, breathing out slowly so he doesn’t whoop or squeal.

He doesn’t say a word, but that doesn’t matter to Jungkook, who mutters “shut up” before
proceeding to push him on his back and climb on top of him. Taehyung’s hands naturally land on
his waist as their mouths connect again, hot breaths puffing between them.

Taehyung doesn’t know how he ever got so lucky.

 Chapter 17
Chapter Notes

HIII HERE'S A LONG CHAPTER!!

note: please remember that the rating has changed to E...and for good reason bc
there will be some EXPLICIT scenes. plz proceed at ur own discretion!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

To this day, Taehyung still hasn’t figured out if Jungkook’s long, loose shirts are supposed to be a
fashion statement or if he just likes how comfortable they are. He’s pretty sure it’s more the latter,
Jungkook’s all about being comfortable when the cameras are gone, after all.

Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that the shirts drive Taehyung fucking crazy.

See, you’d think oversized clothing would help to “preserve modesty” or whatever, but the thing
about Jungkook is he’s kind of got curves where you don’t expect. Meaning, when he bends over
by the slightest bit, the shirt wraps around his ass, only further emphasized by how loose the rest of
the top is, and Taehyung is a simple man. He sees. He wants. He touches.

Jungkook doesn’t show any sign of minding the hand on his ass until Taehyung squeezes one of
his cheeks hard, earning him a gaspy sound. Jungkook whirls around, his expression teetering
somewhere between a smile and a frown.

“What are you doing,” he reprimands, batting Taehyung’s hand away.

“Sorry.” Taehyung grins at him. “It was right there, I couldn’t help myself.” Jungkook gives him
the side-eye and quickly scans the waiting room, but there’s no one here except them and some of
the members. Taehyung pats him on his bum again, this time comfortingly.

“You big pervert,” Jungkook mutters, turning back to hide how the corners of his mouth are losing
their battle against his smile.

“Says the person who slaps my ass every chance they get.”

Jungkook ignores him and Taehyung watches curiously as he bends over again to open the massive
box containing his Halloween costume for the Bangtan Bomb cover of “21st Century Girl.” When
he pulls out a fluffy gray bunny head, its two ears adorably stuck together and standing straight up,
Taehyung forgets all about how delicious his ass looks.

“Oh no,” he gasps, holding his hands to his heart. “Are you gonna be wearing that?”

Jungkook reveals the round bunny body that goes with it, a yellow bow tie at its neck, and
Taehyung’s spit betrays him by going down the wrong pipe. “Put it on!” he wheezes. Go, now!
Jungkookie! Now, now, hurry.”

As soon as Jungkook’s done changing, Taehyung pounces on him in a bear hug, rubbing his face
against the side of the fuzzy bunny head. The hole in it is just big enough to fit Jungkook’s face
and it makes him look tiny. “So cute, oh my god, kill me,” he moans.

There’s a shout of “Jeon Jungkook!” from the other side of the room before Jimin rushes over to
throw himself on Jungkook too. “Oh, it’s so soft! So squishy! Unlike the maknae wearing it!”

“Okay, lettuce,” Jungkook deadpans and snickers when Jimin has to stand on his tippy-toes to
smack the top of his head.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Jimin asks Taehyung after he gets off Jungkook, brushing
little gray hairs off his shirt. “Peter Pan?”

Jungkook bounces a paw against Taehyung’s back, who’s still clinging to him. “He’s Card Captor
Sakura, duh!”

“Yeah, Jiminie, why’re you so uncultured?” Taehyung waves his Cerberus plushie at him. “I’m in
a school girl uniform!”

“No, you’re not, you’re literally wearing pants.” Jimin rolls his eyes. He makes fun of Taehyung
some more, trying to snatch his plushie out of his hands and kidnap Taehyung’s child, the monster.
But Jimin gets bored of that soon, turning back to Jungkook with an evil smirk that makes
Taehyung quickly release their youngest to stand protectively in front of him with his arms out.

“No bullying my bun-bun,” he jokes. “Or by the power vested in me by the moon, I shall smite
you, lettuce!”

“Lett—stop calling me that! I haven’t even changed yet!”

“I think the moon thing is supposed to be Sailor Moon, hyung,” Jungkook informs him helpfully,
and Taehyung feels bunny paws rest on his shoulders as Jungkook hides behind him, going along
with the act. Taehyung giggles when the costume’s round belly bumps against his back.

Jimin pretends like he isn’t being used as a flirting opportunity and cocks his hip, crossing his
arms. “So, Jungkook-ah. You totally chose that bunny ‘cause of IU, didn’t you?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up. He didn’t know this was the famous costume that grabbed
nationwide attention for IU because she was so unbearably cute in it.

“No,” Jungkook denies immediately, his voice going higher. “It’s ‘cause ARMY call me a bunny!”

Jimin makes a judgmental mm-hm sound, and Taehyung turns to stare at his boyfriend,
unimpressed. Literally everyone knows about his obsession with IU, why’s he even being a little
pretender? Jungkook takes in Taehyung’s expression with wide eyes, his mouth opening
soundlessly.

“G-girl crush!” he blurts out. “I—I have a girl crush on her!”

Jimin squints at him. “Do you even know what that means?”

Jungkook scowls, offended. “Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest and it looks hilarious
because he’s acting all defensive as a cute-ass bunny, but Taehyung’s too interested in where the
conversation’s going to laugh. “Girl crush! When you like someone and admire them and it’s
between girls but not like—not, a real crush.” His gaze lands on Taehyung for just a second before
darting away, his mouth downturned. Jimin’s doing that thing where his eyes are round and his lips
pursed in surprise, obviously unsure what to make of Jungkook’s reaction, and Taehyung’s in the
same boat.

The silence only seems to agitate Jungkook more, his words coming out fast like he’s ripping off a
bandaid. “O-okay, fine, I liked her maybe too much when I was younger, like, way younger, before
debut, but not—you know. Not for years. I don’t—not like that.” His voice gets quieter and quieter,
and Taehyung and Jimin continue to blink at each other.

There’s a tension-filled moment as Jungkook fidgets.

Then Jimin bursts out laughing, waving off the rant. “Well duh,” he drawls, “‘cause now you have
a huge, actual crush on someone else.”

Taehyung’s still mentally flailing, lost on whether he should go the teasing route or the reassuring
route, all while trying to hide the way his heart swells from how frantic Jungkook was to clear
everything up. “Well, I have a girl crush on Hwasa!” he ends up spitting out, deciding Jungkook
looks like he needs the comfort.

As Jimin groans about how they’re totally using the term wrong, Jungkook visibly relaxes, his
chest deflating as he breathes out. His hands return to Taehyung’s shoulders, spinning him around
so the elder can’t look at his face.

Why. Is. He. So. Cute. Hnfngfngf.

Sadly enough, before Taehyung gets the chance to drag Jungkook off somewhere they can make
out, the staff are swarming in to get them ready.

(Later that night when Taehyung crawls into Jungkook’s bed after a long day of schedules, he
whispers, “So guess who I have a boy crush on,” and Jungkook attacks him with a pillow.)

“Ahh, what is he doing,” Jungkook groans loudly. Taehyung snickers as he watches Jungkook’s
teammate run into a group of enemies alone and get shot down immediately.

“What the hell!” Jungkook shouts, looking like he’s on the verge of flinging his laptop out the
window. “We were literally calling retreat for the last ten seconds! Why did he—oh my god, this is
why I hate solo-queueing. Why aren’t you playing with me, Tae? I can’t trust these randos.”

Taehyung grins even though Jungkook can’t see him. He’s on the hotel bed behind the desk where
Jungkook’s gaming, lying on his stomach with chin propped in his hands and kicking his feet. Nice
and relaxed after their fanmeeting today. Low-key horny because Jungkook’s kinda sexy when
he’s worked up over a game, it makes Taehyung feel hot even though he’s only in a bathrobe.
Can’t be the Fukuoka weather because, well. It’s November.

“Seriously, this guy,” Jungkook continues to rant. “He was all like ‘I’ll play a carry, don’t worry,’
so I was like, okay fine, I’ll go with Widowmaker. And now he’s—look! He’s 2-13! How do you
die thirteen times?! Oh right, because you ignore team cues and run into the entire enemy team for
no reason. If I drop rank after this game, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t you worry your cute butt,” Taehyung laughs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Even if you
do, it’ll only take a couple games to get back up.”

“No, it’ll take forever,” Jungkook mutters angrily under his breath. “Play with me next time, back
me up with your D.Va. Hyung? Okay?”

“Mmm, ’kay.”
Jungkook ends up losing the game and when the scoreboard shows that he dropped by a rank, he
growls, slamming the laptop closed and launching himself face-down on to the bed. Taehyung
chuckles, massaging the nape of his neck. He totally knows what that feels like, having spent
countless half-day sprees making up for shitty teammates before.

“Wanna watch a drama or something?” he asks, stopping his massaging for a second to check his
phone. “It’s not that late yet.”

Jungkook lets out a neutral grunt of neither yes nor no, then another indignant one when Taehyung
doesn’t immediately put his hands on his again. Brat. But Taehyung is too weak to not indulge
him, digging his fingers into his nape.

“Now that Bogumie-hyung’s drama is over, I dunno what I wanna watch anymore. Any
suggestions?”

Jungkook goes rigid beneath his fingers.

Taehyung pouts, sad that his hard work’s gone to waste. “Jungkookie?”

Jungkook suddenly, violently sits up, making Taehyung’s arm fall away. There’s fire in his eyes,
and Taehyung’s pretty sure it’s not about Overwatch anymore.

“You know Bogum-ssi’s gay, right?” Jungkook snaps.

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “What?”

“Yeah. He’s gay.” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, staring Taehyung down.

“What,” he repeats slowly, blinking several times. There’s a giggle fluttering in his throat when he
teases, “Did he tell you or something? I didn’t know you guys were close.”

“We’re not close,” Jungkook hisses. “And he obviously didn’t tell me, Tae, what the fuck. It’s just
obvious. He’s totally gay. O-or bi, at the very least.”

“What.”

“Just ask Jimin-hyung!”

“Jimin?” Taehyung splutters, memories of his platonic soulmate leering and making highly
inappropriate comments coming to mind unbidden. He shudders. “Okay, I have no idea where this
is coming from.”

“Bogum-ssi likes g-guys,” Jungkook spews out, as if Taehyung doesn’t know what gay means.
He’s so worked up that both his lisp and the stutter he gets when he’s in a rush are coming out.
“You can tell just from his eyes, they linger on guys, like, with this puppy-eyed look and the way
he smiles at yo—them, a-and, and, he tries to keep up that friendly ol’ brotherly act but you can tell
he sort of gets nervous about the touchiness, like he’s s-self-conscious about it.”

By this point, Taehyung’s jaw is on the mattress and his eyes would’ve popped out of their sockets
and rolled onto the floor if they weren’t, like, attached to his brain. He can’t decide if he should be
amused or offended on Bogum’s behalf or flabbergasted that Jungkook’s apparently been keeping
an observation diary on the guy. He’s pretty sure Jungkook doesn’t even pay that much attention to
him.

“Do you like him or something,” Taehyung snorts, if only to shatter whatever this weird tension is,
but Jungkook just looks like he wants to break something. Taehyung puts his hands on the
younger’s thighs, who’s got his legs tucked under himself, his body coiled tight and on-edge.

“Jungkookie,” he placates. “I have no idea if Bogumie-hyung is gay or not. Why do you care so
much?”

Jungkook’s face twists into something so utterly indignant, as if he can’t comprehend how dumb
Taehyung’s being and wants so badly to enlighten him but doesn’t know how.

Taehyung readies for him to explode, but instead he deflates, his shoulders drooping, jaw clenched.
“Never mind,” Jungkook mutters, sprawling back face-down over the mattress.

Taehyung stares at him. Then he crawls until he’s sitting right beside him, his hand going back to
Jungkook’s nape, fingers spreading wide to encompass all of it. “Kookie,” he says quietly, not
wanting to trigger Jungkook’s defenses. He starts massaging the sides of his neck again, firm and
heavy. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” Jungkook snaps, his body a great big brick of tenseness.

“All right, well. Just saying, but if you ever do get jealous, you should remember that you’re being
stupid because no one in the entire universe is even half as cute as you are.” Jungkook scoffs. “I’m
serious,” Taehyung laughs, slapping his shoulder. He could talk about the infinite number of things
that he adores about his boyfriend, everything from the outside to the inside, but neither of them is
made for mushy talks and he isn’t feeling up to self-combusting today.

“Shut up,” Jungkook whines.

A solid few minutes of massaging later, accompanied by Taehyung’s idle humming, Jungkook’s
body finally relaxes under him. He rolls on to his back, blinking up a little blearily at Taehyung,
who’s preoccupied with staring unashamedly at how Jungkook’s bathrobe has parted enough to
show a generous ‘V’ of his chest.

“Why’re you so sexy,” Taehyung mumbles. His hand, having drifted to the side of Jungkook’s
neck when he flipped over, gently cups his warm skin. He can feel his pulse under his palm, strong
and steady.

Jungkook’s gaze roves over his face, the sleepiness giving way for something heavier, a different
kind of haze. His hand floats up to curl around Taehyung’s wrist, a light, seemingly subconscious
touch.

Swept over by affection, Taehyung flops his full weight on top of his boyfriend, wraps him up in
an octopus hug, and smacks a wet kiss to the hollow of his throat. Then he tucks his head under
Jungkook’s chin with a sigh, happy as a clam. They’ve got a late flight the next day so it’ll be a
nice, lazy morning tomorrow, plus a couple days of break before their concert at the Gocheok Sky
Dome in Seoul. And he’ll get to cuddle with his Jungkookie all night. Life is sweet.

Jungkook lets out a silent breath of his own as his arms curl around him, his chest depressing under
Taehyung’s body. They lie there like that for a long, peaceful while, until Jungkook can’t breathe
anymore, and keeping Taehyung secure against him, rolls them both to their sides.

Taehyung shuffles up and snakes his arms around Jungkook’s neck fondly, admiring his adorable
face. His boy watches him, lips pulling up from the immense effort it must take for him to both
keep his expression neutral and not look away from Taehyung’s stare. Jungkook’s shy, after all.
Even when it’s just the two of them. It’s so, so cute, but Taehyung also wonders sometimes how
differently he’d act if he’d let his walls completely down for once.

His baby’s just too pretty for him not to kiss, so Taehyung surrenders to the urge, leaning in first.
Jungkook’s eyes shut automatically as their lips meet. The kiss is sweet and soft, but not in that
lazy, sleepy-morning way, it’s soft because Taehyung puts in the effort to make it that way, wants
Jungkook to feel the tenderness he holds inside for him. Taehyung takes in a breath so he can press
closer, pours his love into the movement of his lips, nose nudging Jungkook’s cheek as their
mouths melt together. He can feel Jungkook’s exhale against his face, their lips separating and
reuniting slowly, deep and savouring.

Kissing Jungkook feels like magic each time. Taehyung imagines that one day, just like in the
cheesy movies and novels, it’ll start feeling like coming home. And that hello kisses, catch-ya-later
kisses, thanks-for-doing-the-dishes kisses, I’ll-miss-you-for-the-two-hours-we-won’t-see-each-
other kisses, those will become as natural as breathing. As easy and thoughtless as sitting without
an inch of space between them whenever they’re on the same piece of furniture, the way they do
now.

He’s excited to get to that point in the relationship. He can’t wait to experience all of these firsts
with Jungkook, the ups and downs of falling in love and choosing each other time and time again,
no matter what happens in life.

But in the meantime, before they get there, he has to put up with the heat that flares in his chest
every time their mouths meet, the butterflies that explode into existence in his stomach. The
electric shock that runs up his spine when their tongues press together. And that irresistible pull
that makes him feel like the south pole of a magnet seeking Jungkook’s north, forcing him to grip
Jungkook as tight as physically possible to himself, wanting to crawl inside of him.

Boohoo, what a tragedy, having fireworks explode behind his eyes every time he kisses his
boyfriend. Poor Taehyung.

He snorts at the thought, and Jungkook takes the opportunity to pull away and breathe. His eyes
are milky, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. His chest moves with his breaths, and Taehyung’s
attention is drawn again to where the robe has fallen way too open to be decent.

“Wh-what you laughing at?” Jungkook asks, breathy and wide-eyed, and Taehyung experiences
the sudden, bone-deep need to devour him.

He climbs on top of Jungkook, pressing his face into his neck. His tongue flicks over the soapy-
smelling skin and Jungkook draws in a sharp inhale, hands finding their way to Taehyung’s arms,
which are half braced to hold some of his weight up so he doesn’t crush his boyfriend. He starts
sucking little kisses into Jungkook’s neck, up along his jaw to his ear, nipping at his lobes. Then he
moves down again, trailing over Jungkook’s adam’s apple, mouthing at it.

Arousal tugs at Taehyung’s gut when Jungkook lets out a small hiss, his head thrown back. He
continues to kiss down his neck and along the sides of it, tonguing at Jungkook’s hot, smooth skin.
Taehyung’s so inexplicably hungry, single-minded in the consuming need to eat up his cute,
stubborn little man. His breaths are coming quick by the time he gets to Jungkook’s collarbones,
his tongue sliding across the dip of it, and he bites down, almost too hard before remembering he
can’t leave marks.

Jungkook flinches under him, grumbling, “that hurts.” But he doesn’t do anything to stop him and
Taehyung knows him too well, can tell he doesn’t mean it. He bites along the jut of the bone,
leaving light teeth marks, small, reddening indents that claim Jungkook as his. It’s unfair to leave
the other collarbone bare, so he sucks little kisses over that one too, and when he reaches the end of
it, close to Jungkook’s shoulder where he’s pretty sure won’t be revealed, he sinks his teeth down
hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

Jungkook winces a little this time with a small complaint of “Tae,” and Taehyung worries if maybe
that was too hard, but Jungkook still isn’t pushing him away, his fingers sliding into his hair
instead, combing through it. Taehyung licks over the faint bite mark and kisses it once in apology.

When he pushes himself up, he finds Jungkook watching him with hooded eyes, his dark bangs
parted to reveal a sliver of his cute forehead. Taehyung crawls up until they’re level again and
sinks into his arms, pressing a kiss on his mouth. Jungkook goes slack-jawed, letting Taehyung lick
across the back of his teeth, their tongues gliding together wetly, flexible and hot, tangling like they
can’t bear to part. Jungkook moans when Taehyung sucks on his and hugs Taehyung so hard
around the waist it almost hurts, their bodies plastered together.

They kiss like that for dragged out minutes, exploring the soft, sensitive parts of each other’s
mouths, until they’re panting against each other. So warm, so hot, Taehyung can barely think. He
rolls his tongue against Jungkook’s one last time, a long, suggestive slide that the younger’s barely
able to suppress a moan for, before he takes Jungkook’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking to
make it pink and puffy.

“Mmm,” Jungkook manages, squirming. His arms fall back when Taehyung sits up, straddling
Jungkook’s thighs as he admires his handiwork.

“Pretty baby,” he rasps, running both palms down Jungkook’s clothed chest. Jungkook reaches up
to cup his cheek, stroking his thumb over where Taehyung knows his mole is.

“You’re prettier,” he murmurs, bunny lips curving up in a smile.

Taehyung sighs in frustration and lust and want. He thumbs at the opening of Jungkook’s robe and
licks across his teeth. “Can I?” he asks.

He gets a small smirk and a snicker. “You’ve seen me shirtless a billion times, hyung. Why’re you
asking for permission now?”

“This is different, duh.” Taehyung pointedly sneaks a hand beneath the fluffy white robe, groping
over the subtle swell of the boy’s pec. When he grazes over a nipple, Jungkook jerks, his smile
widening and hands curling in towards his body, but his eyes sort of—glaze over. Taehyung stares
down at him, at his awkward attempt to keep up the humour and nonchalance. Heat swirls in the
pit of his stomach.

He reaches down to undo the tie of Jungkook’s robe and pauses once more, waiting for a
confirming, expectant gaze and lack of protest, before he pulls the robe open. His mouth waters as
he takes in Jungkook’s naked torso. His muscles are beautifully toned on his lean, boyish frame,
the type of allure that fits impeccably with their concept for the comeback. From now on, when
Jungkook puts on those blue contacts and velvet chokers that have been haunting Taehyung’s
dreams lately, Taehyung’s going to be thinking about this: the dips and curves of his body, the
seductiveness of it. And the worst, best part of it all is how he isn’t quite meeting Taehyung’s eyes
right now, his thick thighs twitching underneath him like he wants to curl up and hide.

Taehyung thinks of himself as a sexual being (or a huge pervert, in both Jungkook and Jimin’s
words, those bastards). He’s always been curious, and eager, and physically affectionate, so this
doesn’t come as a surprise to him. In his most private moments, he’s imagined all sorts of nasty,
depraved scenarios with Jungkook, especially after accidentally stumbling on the kinkier side of
porn sites, but it always felt wrong, like he was violating not only Jungkook but also his members’
trust in him, because he wasn’t supposed to think of the maknae as anything but a brother.

Nowadays, there are times when Taehyung still can’t believe he’s allowed to kiss him. It’s been
weeks since they’ve been official and months ago they were already making out, but sometimes
when he touches Jungkook suggestively, he feels these spikes of guilt. They’re like a knee-jerk
reaction from back when he not only couldn’t, but shouldn’t have been doing those things. It takes
effort to remember that this is his boyfriend now and as long as said boyfriend is okay with it,
there’s literally nothing stopping him.

He has to remind himself of this again as he eyes Jungkook laid out underneath him on the bed,
naked from the waist up, his boxers tented. There’s a flush spreading down his neck to the top of
his chest and Taehyung has to swallow, lick his lips.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook murmurs, flexing his abs like the annoying brat he is, though the
colour of his ears is starting to match his neck. The chuckle that rolls out of Taehyung’s throat is
dark, a bit too threatening. Jungkook’s eyes widen by a fraction, immediately losing their fire.

Taehyung isn’t using his brain right now because his brain is pushing for his nerves to come out,
not having a clue how he should start. It’s his first time doing anything like this. Watching porn
isn’t the same as actually doing it and he doesn’t know how much of porn is real anyway.
Jungkook is very much real, not just some guy, but one Taehyung cares deeply about and is so
attracted to that he’s almost salivating for it.

The only thing he knows is the desire sitting in his stomach like a boulder, so he follows that
instinct, splaying both hands over Jungkook’s bare chest. He feels out the shape of it, ignoring the
stifled gasp he gets when he brushes lightly over Jungkook’s nipples. Then he drifts lower,
mapping out his ribs, tracing over his abs. Taehyung’s hands are large enough to encompass the
sides of Jungkook’s waist, which he squeezes, just to hear the startled noise his boyfriend makes.

Jungkook’s doing a decent job of keeping quiet, holding on to his dignity, as Taehyung would bet
money is how he’s calling it in that self-conscious mind of his. Taehyung wants to hear his sounds,
though. He’s gonna make them come out. The challenge makes his nervousness evaporate and he
bends down, at last putting his mouth on that enticing skin.

He kisses his way around Jungkook’s chest, his hands remaining firm on his waist to keep him
still. His tongue draws circles around Jungkook’s nipple, and his stomach clenches when the
younger shivers, swallowing audibly. Finally, Taehyung gives into temptation and does what he’s
been yearning to do since they first started making out, flicking his tongue over the perked bud.

“Ah,” Jungkook moans, but his fist quickly comes up to cover his mouth. Taehyung lets him for
the time being, smirking to himself because he’s far from done. He sucks hard on Jungkook’s
nipple, then bites it, his eyes open to drink in the way Jungkook’s lips part and his brows furrow.
Taehyung doesn’t give him any opportunity to relax, switching between lapping and sucking and
nibbling to keep him on his toes. When Jungkook starts gnawing on his bottom lip, Taehyung goes
to suck on the other nipple, pinching the pink, swollen one that he just left between his fingers.

“Mnnhh,” Jungkook whimpers, a desperate, high-pitched sound this time, his hips wiggling
beneath Taehyung’s weight, and Taehyung has never been so turned on in his life. He loves the
slightly salty taste of Jungkook’s skin, the feeling of his hard nub against his tongue, how fucking
hot he looks right now.

When he leaves Jungkook’s nipple with a last, parting lick, both nubs are jutting out of his heaving
chest, puffy and thoroughly tortured. Taehyung groans, diving back down to drag his tongue south,
over Jungkook’s clenched stomach. He leaves bites all over, faint teeth marks notched in the
muscle, small red hickeys over the softer flesh of his waist.

Jungkook pants, clutching his shoulders like an anchor and occasionally tugging at Taehyung’s
robe. Taehyung doesn’t know if he’s trying to get him to take it off, but he’s too distracted right
now, met with Jungkook’s clothed erection. He hesitates, peeking up with his fingers dipped into
the waist band.

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook nods.

“You sure?” Taehyung whispers, petting him on the stomach. He hasn’t forgotten the boy who was
too shy to change in the same room as his hyungs.

Jungkook places a gentle hand on his head, brushing his hair from his face. “Stop asking, this is
embarrassing enough,” he complains, but his voice is steadier this time.

“So whiny,” Taehyung snickers. He slides off Jungkook’s legs to sit on the mattress, then pulls the
boxers off in a smooth motion, flinging them somewhere behind him.

“Hey,” Jungkook says half-heartedly, and Taehyung can see his legs twitching with the reflex to
hide himself, but Jungkook settles them down with a determined frown. Taehyung throws the
younger’s thighs over his own and stretches his legs out towards Jungkook’s head.

“W-what,” Jungkook stammers, sitting up a little. He’s blushing hard, a rare sight that Taehyung
wants to capture in a photo, but he’s pretty sure he’d get a fist in the gut if he asked to take a picture
right now.

“I’m gonna jerk you off,” Taehyung blurts out, gesturing down at how Jungkook’s thighs are
spread over his. Taehyung’s dick is lowkey trying to rip its way out of his boxers, but he’s
determined not to look at it, or he’ll touch it and come within two seconds.

“I—well yeah, I figured, but what’s with the position?” Jungkook pouts, and Taehyung watches his
big, delicious thighs flex.

“Aww, don’t be shy. We’ll be doing way more embarrassing things later on, yanno.” Taehyung
waggles his eyebrows.

Jungkook groans and flops back on the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes. “Why, Tae, why.”

Taehyung just grins. Unceremoniously, he grabs Jungkook’s cock and gives it a good stroke from
base to tip.

“Ah!” Jungkook’s hips jump. He whips the arm away from his face, glaring up at Taehyung.
“Hyung! You can’t just—give a guy a warning!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Jungkook opens his mouth with a retort but Taehyung strokes him again, hand wrapped tight
around his dick and giving him the good ol’ up-down. Jungkook can’t seem to control his
breathing, his cheeks hollowed as he bites down on the inside of them, eyes squeezed closed. His
legs spread wider without thought and Taehyung groans, heat shooting up his back, tingling in his
fingers. Jungkook’s cock feels so good in his palm, warm and velvety and damp. Maybe not damp
enough though, so he swipes the precum off the tip, rubs it all over the shaft, and starts up a
rhythm he likes.

“Ohh,” Jungkook moans, throwing his head back. God, he looks like a whole-ass snack, thighs
splayed around Taehyung’s hips, letting Taehyung touch him where he’s most sensitive, his red
lips falling open and neck flushed, his nipples perky and swollen.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Taehyung growls, speeding up the pace. He changes it up sometimes,
grinding and circling his palm around the head of Jungkook’s cock, and Jungkook outright whines.
Taehyung notices he’s got a hand curled around the hem of the Taehyung’s bathrobe, tugging.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, slowing down, and Jungkook lets out a frustrated mmh, his head lifting
to pout at Taehyung as he thrusts into his hand.

“Off,” Jungkook says, pulling at the robe again. Taehyung considers it, but part of the stupid thing
is trapped under his butt right now and maneuvering them to take it off sounds like a pain when he
just wants to watch Jungkook come. “C’mon, together,” Jungkook huffs, reaching his free hand
down to graze over Taehyung’s clothed dick, who swears to god he almost comes from that alone.

“Later,” he soothes, patting Jungkook’s hand. “I wanna concentrate on this first.”

“Ugh,” Jungkook groans in reluctance, then louder in pleasure when Taehyung starts tugging at his
cock again. “Oh my god...mm, don’t stop, hyung. Shit, what’s a guy gotta d-do to see his boyfriend
n-naked?”

Taehyung barks out a laugh at that, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Shut up and let me make you feel
good.”

“So good,” Jungkook breathes. He seems to have finally lowered his defenses a little because his
next whine of “hyung,” is so plaintive.

“Hmm? Yeah, baby?” Taehyung grinds his teeth, watching Jungkook start to lose focus, panting as
he gyrates his hips in the most sinful way. Precum dribbles from his tip, clear and a little sticky,
gathering over the top of Taehyung’s fist. Taehyung stares at his cock, nice and fat and tasty-
looking. Curiously, he pushes Jungkook’s hip down with his free hand and leans down, swiping
his tongue over the head.

“Unh!” His hips snap up even with Taehyung pushing down on him. Jungkook takes a second to
breathe before propping himself up on his elbows, his cheeks glowing. “Oh god, did you—?
Again. Again, hyung?”

Taehyung smacks his lips and tilts his head, trying to place the taste. It’s mostly salty, with a tiny
hint of sweetness. Interesting.

“Hyuuung.”

He snickers at Jungkook’s petulant expression and indulges him, dipping down to suck the head of
his cock into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whimpers. “Fuck.”

Taehyung swirls his tongue around the hard flesh, over and over, occasionally flitting over the tip
to collect the obscene amounts of precum leaking out. He doesn’t go down too deep, not confident
in his blowjob skills in the least with his sensitive gag reflex. But he copies what he’s seen,
forming a tight circle with his fist for whatever he can’t fit in his mouth. Jungkook’s cock fills up
his mouth, stretching his jaw in a way that isn’t exactly comfortable, but maybe that’s what makes
it so good, so satisfying. His tongue strokes the soft skin and traces over the veins it finds, relishing
in the way Jungkook pulses when Taehyung brushes against his good spots over and over.
Jungkook’s squirming hard now, making these high mnnhh sounds in his throat that Taehyung
imprints into his memory to jack off to in the future. Those dark chocolate bangs are sticking to his
face from sweat and his skin is blotchy-red all over. When Taehyung gives a particularly hard suck,
his legs try to clamp together.

“Hyung,” he says, almost sobs.

Taehyung thinks he might explode. He always knew Jungkook would be sensitive, guessed it from
how deathly ticklish he is, how violently he dodges when the members jokingly try to pinch his
nipples. Taehyung coils his tongue around the length of his cock, rubs the silky skin against his
lips as he moves, loving the texture of it and how it jerks when the suction of his mouth gets a little
too tight. Jungkook’s progressively becoming noisier, even more than Taehyung imagined he’d be.
Pride settles deep into his bones.

He lets go of the younger’s dick with an obscene pop to wrap the full length of his hand around it
instead, pumping him as he shuffles back up to draw Jungkook into a kiss. Jungkook reciprocates
messily, tongue lolling without finesse. His small mewling sounds are driving Taehyung insane.

“Hyung,” he whispers against Taehyung’s mouth, licking at the elder’s top lip like a kitten. His
fingers are curled snugly around Taehyung’s shoulders, but he’s careful to keep his nails to himself,
even with Taehyung’s robe still on.

“Mmm, baby, you’re so cute,” Taehyung murmurs, moving to taste his sharp jawline. His free
hand strokes over the swell of Jungkook’s bicep. “But can you call me by my name instead?”

Jungkook makes a questioning sound, his eyelids fluttering as he struggles for coherence. “Wh-
hyung?”

“My name, beautiful.”

“Wha—?” Jungkook seems to regain some his coherence. “W-what you mean?”

Taehyung pauses, the motions of his fist slowing to a languid pace. “I-I dunno,” he says, self-
consciousness creeping up like shadows in his chest again. “When you just say ‘hyung,’ it—uh...”

Jungkook’s eyes are fully open now, trained on him, big and bright. “Hm?”

“Sorry.” Taehyung pouts. He didn’t mean to ruin the mood. “It just—it feels like you could be
moaning for any hyung, an-and not me.”

He didn’t think it was possible for Jungkook’s eyes to get any rounder, but they do, and then he
lets out this tiny, endearing giggle. Taehyung might have been offended if his expression wasn’t
also soft as hell.

“What other hyung would I even—” he chokes on a laugh. Taehyung gives him a particularly
good, vindictive stroke, and Jungkook loses his breath.

“Shut up, I don’t wanna think about you with oth—ugh,” Taehyung mutters.

Jungkook’s eyes go gooey, a beaming smile taking over his face. “Wh-what, so no hyung kink?”
he teases, and Taehyung’s just about feeling vengeful enough to completely stop with the handjob,
but he’s pathetically weak for his boyfriend who’s still so desperate in the middle of a
conversation, his hips ticking up and tongue peeking out when he gasps in breaths.

Taehyung shrugs. He hasn’t made out with anyone other than Jungkook, let alone find out what his
kinks are.

“You sure about that?” Jungkook starts grinning like the Cheshire cat, before arranging his face
into something pleading and helpless. “Taehyungie-hyung...” Taehyung refuses to acknowledge
that his traitorous dick gives a twitch. Jungkook flutters his eyelashes. “Taehyungie-
hyung...faster?”

Taehyung tightens his grip and obeys without even thinking about it, because Jungkook’s so sexy
and he wants so badly to watch him fall apart.

“Ah!” Jungkook’s head falls back, overwhelmed by the increased pace, Taehyung’s hand making
obscene, wet sounds around his cock. Then Jungkook forces his head back up again and this time
when he locks gazes with Taehyung, his eyes are watery. “Taetae-hyungie,” he whines, sticking
out his bottom lip.

Taehyung’s dick bucks hard. He grits his teeth as precum gushes out of the tip. Jungkook notices
the growing wet patch in his boxers, his mouth falling open.

“Wow, really?” he hiccups on a laugh, scrunching his nose and somehow managing to look like the
most innocent thing ever even though he’s naked as the day he was born with his dick curving up
to his stomach, leaking all over Taehyung’s hand. “You’re so kinky, Taetae-hyungie.”

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god,” Taehyung groans, and decides he’s had enough. He’s done with
going easy on his brat. He leans down, takes half of Jungkook’s cock in his mouth all at once, and
sucks hard. Jungkook’s legs flail out and his hips buck, but Taehyung’s got more of his weight on
him this time, not letting him budge an inch.

“Ah, oh, Taehyungie,” he whines so loudly and Taehyung’s merciless, determined to suck his
brains out through his dick. On a whim, he presses the pad of one fingertip to Jungkook’s pretty
little hole, mostly just to see what’ll happen. He’s stunned when the younger comes immediately
with a shout, his thighs trembling.

Of course he’d be sensitive here too. Fucking hell, the boy’s an absolute dream. Taehyung pulls off
quickly, swallowing whatever got in his mouth and aiming Jungkook’s dick away so he can watch
his baby shudder and writhe, his face contorted in pleasure. Taehyung wrings the rest of his
orgasm out of him, earning himself another cry when he reaches up to flick Jungkook’s nipple.

Eventually, Jungkook starts pushing his hand away, and Taehyung sits back, tucking a lock of his
boyfriend’s hair behind his ear with his clean hand.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. Jungkook gives him a pouty glare, lips parted in a pant. His glare fades
quickly though, turning sheepish as he wipes a speck of come off the corner of Taehyung’s mouth.

“Sorry, should’ve warned you,” he mutters.

“Eh. Don’t worry ‘bout it, I know I was so good you came like that.” Taehyung snaps like an
obnoxious magician.

Jungkook glares again. Taehyung grins at him, then cringes, smacking his lips at the taste of come
lingering in his mouth. “Blegh, that’s almost as bad as espresso.”

Jungkook shoves him so hard he topples over backwards and Taehyung giggles at his embarrassed
annoyance, waving his come-covered fingers at him. “Hyuuung,” Jungkook whines. It’s so similar
to how he did it earlier when he was asking Taehyung to go faster that it begins to set in now, how
Taehyung gave a handjob to his best friend, the cute, endearing dongsaeng he’s grown up with
over the years, the guy he’s been pining after for so long.

He lies there in a puddle of existential crisis. His dick is probably purple under his boxers from
how hard he is, but he needs to revel in this moment for a bit. Mind over matter, people, mind over
matter.

Too quickly, though, he’s forced back to the land of the living when he notices Jungkook wincing
as he tries to get off the bed. There’s come streaked all over his chest and stomach, a few droplets
on his face even, and Taehyung smirks at him. They both gasp when Jungkook’s feet touch the
ground only for his legs to buckle. Taehyung springs up, grabbing him by the sides.

It takes a couple seconds for Jungkook to stand on his own, during which he wiggles defiantly and
growls at Taehyung, “This isn’t—it’s ‘cause today was leg day! And we had a whole concert! It’s
not because of—stop laughing!”

Taehyung keeps giggling to himself as Jungkook stomps off. He returns a minute later with new
boxers and his body wiped clean, wielding a damp towel like a weapon. Taehyung expects him to
throw it at him, but Jungkook hops back on the bed and pushes him flat on his back, then carefully
wipes off his face and hand. Taehyung watches him fondly. Once they’re both clean, he pulls
Jungkook down for a kiss, the younger falling into his arms with a happy hum.

They make out for a bit, exchanging long, dragged-out kisses, until Jungkook allows his full
weight to drop on Taehyung, reminding him of the state of his poor dick.

“Your turn,” Jungkook murmurs. Taehyung’s pretty sure he’s going for salacious, or confident at
least, but the colour of his ears gives him away.

“Okay, great, ‘cause I’m dying here,” he jokes. Jungkook pinches him under his chin.

“I’m gonna be so good you’ll be calling me hyung,” Jungkook cackles, and Taehyung bursts out
laughing, telling him to give it his best shot.

However, the moment Jungkook goes to take Taehyung’s robe off, his fingers uncharacteristically
clumsy with the knot, their giggles die down and they both entirely lose their bravado. When
Jungkook parts the cloth, he does it with reverence, big doe eyes unblinkingly taking in Taehyung’s
body. He slides his palms down his chest, much like Taehyung did with him, stopping at his softer
tummy with a gentle smile.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to like biting as much as he does, opting for butterfly kisses and inquisitive
lapping, mixed with the occasional glance up to check Taehyung’s reaction. Taehyung discovers
that his own nipples are sensitive too, but more in the ticklish way than the oh-god-their-pleasure-
sensors-are-attached-directly-to-my-penis way like for Jungkook. When he points this out,
Jungkook twists both of his nipples hard enough to hurt, making Taehyung squeak and pout.

Jungkook’s light touches feel amazing, warm and admiring, but cautious as if he’s afraid to make a
mistake. Of course he’s a perfectionist with this too, Taehyung isn’t even a bit surprised. He thinks
he would’ve also been nervous if he wasn’t so obsessed with getting his hands and mouth
everywhere on that luscious body, his mind throbbing with the relentless chant of touch, touch,
touch. He watches Jungkook mouth over his stomach now, tangles his hands in his fluffy hair, and
Taehyung’s imagination starts running away from him. Jungkook on his knees between his legs.
His lips stretched around his cock, eyes shiny. Taehyung moans from the image alone, and
Jungkook’s attention darts up to him.

“’m taking these off,” Jungkook says, tugging at his plaid boxers, which are one of his rattier pairs
in a blinding, overlapping mix of red, green, and blue. Taehyung would be embarrassed if
Jungkook hasn’t seen him in them a million times.

“Mm-hmm,” he says soothingly, bracing himself on his elbows so he can cup Jungkook’s cheek.
Jungkook leans into him with an affectionate nuzzle, then gets to work ridding Taehyung of his last
piece of clothing.

As soon as it’s off, Jungkook’s jaw drops.

“It’s huge!” he exclaims in satoori.

Taehyung wants to both laugh and cry, pulling his knees in automatically, shying away, but
Jungkook shakes himself out of his shock and captures his legs.

“Tae,” he says, and Taehyung can’t figure out if it’s awe or horror.

“What, you’ve seen my dick before, stop,” he whines, kicking gently at Jungkook, but Mr. Muscle
Pig doesn’t relent, his palms skimming up Taehyung’s knees.

“Yeah, but not like—not, you know,” Jungkook gestures towards his crotch. “I mean, it was kind
of...er...” He keeps talking but it’s slurred and so quiet that Taehyung can’t decipher what he’s
saying.

“What?”

Jungkook clears his throat. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, looking off towards the wall.
“It’s big,” he says, the last word literally silent, Taehyung only understands what he says from
reading his lips, “when it’s normal, but now, it’s, you know.” He bites his lip, his expression
getting increasingly disgruntled before he blurts out again, “Why’s it so big??”

A part of Taehyung wants to puff out his chest in manly pride, but apprehension overrides that
urge. “Is it...is it too much?”

“What? No,” Jungkook snaps out, his tone miffed, yet the face he’s making is closer to wonder.
Taehyung didn’t know his ding-dong was worthy of such a look.

A thought seems to occur to Jungkook out of the blue, his head snapping up. “Wait. Has Jimin-
hyung seen you like this before?”

“Huh?” Taehyung gapes. “No, what the hell?”

“Oh.” Jungkook blushes, shrinking in on himself again. “I just—remember how he told ARMY
that it’s not your back they should be paying attention to, but your...front?”

Taehyung has to dig to remember the behind-the-scenes interview they did for MBC Music. He
recalls Jungkook glaring at Jimin with such disgust, and Taehyung narrows his eyes now, looking
Jungkook up and down, mouth pulling up on one side. “You thought a lot about that, did you.”

Jungkook stumbles over sounds that were probably meant to be words. “No, it just—occurred to
me!”

Taehyung starts laughing at him, full-bodied amusement that has him covering his mouth with his
fist. He’s too busy laughing to see the way Jungkook clenches his jaw, so he’s totally blindsided
when his dick is grabbed. He chokes, scrambling as his elbows nearly give out on him. He sits up
and gapes down at the younger.
Jungkook stares at his erection with single-minded focus, smearing the precum all over it, not that
he really needs to with how worked up Taehyung’s gotten this past half hour. Jungkook’s pretty
little petal lips purse, his eyes massive as he watches his hand glide up and down. He tests his grip
a few times, tightening and loosening, staring up at Taehyung’s face and visibly lighting up
whenever Taehyung can’t hold back a pleasured grimace.

The flush is beginning to return to Jungkook’s neck, spreading down his chest, accompanied by the
glassiness in his eyes that Taehyung is beginning to develop an obsession for. Taehyung watches
him swallow, adam’s apple jumping up once, twice. And he knows Jungkook probably won’t do it,
not if he isn’t prompted somehow, so Taehyung stretches out a hand, running his fingers through
his boyfriend’s hair before resting them against the back of his head.

“Can I have your mouth?” he asks softly, brushing his fingers down over the baby hairs on
Jungkook’s nape. “You...you don’t have to, obviously, but...”

Jungkook licks his lips. He ogles Taehyung’s cock with unnerving intensity, but Taehyung keeps
himself a steady, reassuring presence for when Jungkook glances at him again in something like
trepidation.

“You don’t have to, Kook,” Taehyung reminds him again, stroking Jungkook’s head. He knows
it’s probably intimidating, can’t even really estimate how much of his cock Jungkook would be
able to take into his small mouth. He’s happy enough just having this, his attention on him and
their newfound intimacy, in whatever form.

But apparently Jungkook doesn’t think of this as a losing game, because he doesn’t play losing
games and yet with zero further preamble, he leans down to wrap his lips around the head of
Taehyung’s cock.

Taehyung could come right now. He’s never felt anything like this before. No wonder guys are
always thirsting after blowjobs. Oh, fuck, Jungkook, he looks so good, so beautiful, tears gathering
in his eyes already as he inhales deeply and sinks down at a snail pace.

“Good,” Taehyung groans, one hand sinking into the mattress behind him, the other lovingly
petting Jungkook on the head. “Slow, don’t hurt yourself.”

Jungkook makes a huffy sound, like “no shit, hyung, shut up, I can do this,” and Taehyung
chuckles despite himself.

Frankly, he’s imagined this more times than he can count. He’s done the cliché things like bore
holes into Jungkook when he’s eating a banana, but it’s unfair to blame it completely on him
because sometimes, he knows the maknae does it on purpose. Who even eats popsicles like they’re
giving a blowjob, wrapping their lips around them, sliding up and down and twirling them around
in their mouths? Taehyung’s been gifted with way too much fodder over the years. Now, he’s
finding out that the real thing is beyond his wildest imagination, Jungkook’s tongue writhing over
the vein on his underside, his mouth sucked air-tight over his swollen, near-bursting cock.

“Oh my fucking god,” Taehyung hisses, grinding his teeth together so hard he can hear his jaw
clicking. He lets out a shuddering breath when Jungkook drags his way up, expecting the younger
to pull off and take a breath, but he stops at the tip, drawing his tongue in circles around it. And
then Jungkook fucking moans, and it sounds so pitiful, like he’s desperate for something. The
vibrations are making Taehyung lose his mind, he has to use every ounce of self-control in his
body to keep his hips still. Jungkook is getting turned on from blowing him, he can feel it, see it,
hear it. Fuck, fuck.
The noises Jungkook make are pornographic, how he’s sucking on Taehyung’s cock so loudly
from the mixture of saliva and precum, and the tiny whimpering grunts he makes when he goes too
deep. Taehyung brushes the back of his plush throat a couple times, each teasing touch of it
sending shockwaves through his body.

He has no idea how he’s held out for so long. Maybe it hasn’t been that long after all, it’s just that
time stretches when he can’t feel anything but the heat and wetness of Jungkook’s mouth around
him.

He thinks he’s wheezing by the time Jungkook releases him to give them both a breather.
Taehyung’s thighs flex, relax, flex in restraint as he regains control of his body, registering with
relief that the hand in Jungkook’s hair stayed gentle. He’d never want to hurt his baby, he knows
he’s sensitive to pain.

Jungkook coughs lightly, less like his throat hurts and more like he’s clearing it, but Taehyung’s
still worried. He tips Jungkook’s chin up, exhaling deep at his boy’s teary eyes and red lips.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

Jungkook hums. His voice is raspier than usual when he says, “Uncomfortable.”

Taehyung’s stomach drops to his feet. “Shit, sorry, I—”

“Not that.” Jungkook nods down towards his own body, where he’s half-lying on his side but his
upper body’s straining to keep himself level with Taehyung’s dick. “Change position?”

Taehyung stumbles over an affirmative. He didn’t know they were going to keep going, he could
totally given himself a hand and finish in 0.2 seconds, but he’ll do whatever Jungkook wants him to
do. Confused, he lets Jungkook guide him over the side of the bed.

His eyes almost pop out of their sockets when Jungkook drops to his knees. Bratty, prideful,
unyielding Jungkook slotting himself between Taehyung’s thighs with those innocent Bambi eyes,
before his tongue lolls out and he laves up the full length of Taehyung’s cock.

But no, at least half of the innocence is an act right now, there’s a trace of a smirk on his lips, and
that’s why this is happening. Because Jungkook is in control.

Taehyung’s happy to let him have it, he doesn’t give a single shit. He’s had actual wet dreams
about this more times than he can count on all of his fingers and toes, it’s one of his greatest
fantasies, Jungkook getting on his knees for him. He’s hanging on to his sanity by the skin of his
teeth.

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, wet, but somehow sultry while he plays with Taehyung’s cock as he
likes, running his tongue all over it. He’s provocative, reminds Taehyung of how he looks when
he’s on-stage, so fucking hot, but something about the put-on flirtatiousness makes Taehyung want
to break him too.

“You like that?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a pitch it rarely ever gets to. “Like licking my
cock like it’s candy, baby?”

Jungkook falters. His tongue stills, pressed flat against Taehyung’s erection, and he swallows
heavily.

“Look so pretty, Jungkookie.” Taehyung caresses his face with both hands. “Prettiest thing I’ve
ever seen, you know that? Such a good boy.”
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, his hot breaths hitting Taehyung’s rock-hard, sensitive flesh. He tilts
his head to wrap his tongue around as much of his cock as he can without taking it into his mouth,
licking in slow, unpredictable patterns that get Taehyung’s head spinning.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so good,” he groans. A bit more, he’ll come with just a bit more. It’s a
bittersweet feeling because he needs it so badly, he’s been strung tight for so long, but he also
doesn’t want this to end.

Jungkook’s tongue is wicked and he’s obviously determined to make him feel good. The dragging
friction accompanied by closed-mouth kisses is dizzying, but he still deliberately forgets to suck
Taehyung’s cock into his mouth. Taehyung can’t anymore. He savours this for as long as he can
until he ultimately gives in, taking the base of his length and tapping his swollen cock against
Jungkook’s plump lips.

Obediently, Jungkook opens his mouth, but in contrast to the hint of triumph in his face, his eyes
have welled up enough for a single tear to run down his face. Taehyung is about to panic, not
having noticed he pushed Jungkook that far, wondering if he’s too much and they’ve moved too
fast. But Jungkook is looking at him expectantly with no sign of turmoil, so he takes in a breath
and feeds his cock into the younger’s waiting mouth.

Jungkook whines, he outright shivers, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s thighs for support. There’s spit
leaking out the corner of his mouth, another tear slipping down his flushed, sweaty face.
Taehyung’s a pervert for thinking this, but Jungkook is so good at sucking. His mouth is stretched
to its limits and wrapped tight around Taehyung’s cock, the soft, wet sounds of suction mixed in
with panted inhales as Jungkook struggles to breathe. His cheeks hollow and his eyes naturally
flutter closed, as if he’s enjoying the feeling of Taehyung’s cock in his mouth. He’s so, so good,
it’s like he was made for this.

A few more sucks have Taehyung throwing his head back with a groan, a long, drawn-out sound
that comes from the depths of his chest. The last threads of his restraint are unraveling.

Through the haze, he reminds himself that he doesn’t want Jungkook choking on come on his first
time, knowing the boy will try even though he probably won’t like it. Carefully, Taehyung
withdraws from his mouth. His cock looks used, swollen and shining with saliva as it slips out,
inch by inch. Jungkook resists when he realizes Taehyung’s pulling entirely out, making a sound of
dissent, his lips closed tight around Taehyung’s thickness. But Taehyung’s too close already, his
vision swimming, a moan skating out of his throat.

“Gonna come,” he gasps. Jungkook only allows the head of his cock to pop out from between his
lips after giving it a last hard suck. Taehyung makes sure to pull completely out of him, but he isn’t
paying attention to where his come lands as he strokes the climax out of himself with a cry. It’s so
intense that he shakes all over, trembling like a leaf.

He sits there on the edge of the mattress for a long time, working to breathe properly, his eyes
focusing slowly on Jungkook who’s gingerly getting to his feet. Taehyung reaches over to help
him, and that’s when he realizes he came all over Jungkook’s face. He gasps.

“Oh, Jungkook-ah! I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” He grabs the abandoned damp cloth
Jungkook brought over earlier, but it’s too stained to reuse. He makes a face at it, throwing it
somewhere and pulling the younger to the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He half-limps over to the bathroom, trying his best not to knock his legs against his sensitive dick,
wets a cloth and wobbles his way back. Jungkook’s curled up on the bed, the cloudiness in his
expression entirely faded now, though his eyes are barely open. Taehyung pats his face clean then
joins him on the bed, clinging to him like a koala.

“Jungkookie?” he coaxes, pressing a kiss to his ear.

“Mm.”

“You okay?”

Jungkook nods, blinking slowly. “Sleepy.”

“Yeah, same.” Taehyung snuggles up against him. “Want some water?”

“Mm-hm.”

Taehyung rolls away from him, reaching down to the floor and patting around for the water bottle
he knows is lying around somewhere. His fingers catch on it and he immediately wraps himself
back around his boyfriend with a triumphant, “Here ya go, baby.”

Jungkook takes a nice, big sip, offers him some too, and drops the bottle back on the ground when
they’re done. He turns around in Taehyung’s arms and nuzzles against his face with a sigh of
contentment.

A few minutes of tranquility pass by, and Taehyung would have expected himself to be way
passed out by now, but underneath the tiredness, there’s a strange energy coursing through him.

“That was so fucking good,” he marvels. Jungkook giggle-snorts.

“Pervert.”

“Shut up, you’re literally hard right now.”

“Mmm...” Jungkook cuddles closer to him. “That’s just a physiological phenomenon.”

Right. A physiological phenomenon from sucking Taehyung’s dick. God, can he get any sexier?
“Yeah, okay,” Taehyung smirks. “Big words for Mr. Hard-on.”

Jungkook swats at his shoulder. Taehyung kisses his forehead.

“Gotta go shower,” Jungkook mumbles, though he makes no move to do so. Taehyung bites back a
whine, pouting.

“Do we have to?”

“Ugh, you’re so gross, Tae.”

“You gotta give me some incentive. Like, we shower together. Maybe jerk each other off one more
time.” Jungkook bites on the corner of his bottom lip, contemplative, and Taehyung grins. “Then if
we’re awake enough, we can watch some anime, or if not, we cuddle each other to death.”

A laugh puffs out of Jungkook’s nose, his body shaking. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out,
huh?”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oooh, what if we added ramyeon in there somewhere?”

 Taehyung gasps. He rains kisses all over Jungkook’s cheek, persevering through his complaints
and lackluster efforts to push him off. “You sure have some great ideas, mister.” Jungkook shoots
him a haughty look of “I know, appreciate my awesomeness,” but the effect is ruined one second
later by the happy scrunch of his nose and Taehyung coos, throwing himself at him for more
kisses.

Chapter End Notes

MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!! <333 so this chap was a bit of a

whirlwind but i hope u enjoyed anyway LOL i feel like such a sinner posting this on
xmas but ive been depraved for too long to start rethinking my life so....what can i say
LMAO

*chants* taekook 5ever

 Chapter 18
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jungkook is today years old when he finds out that he has a type. And it’s all stupid Jimin’s fault.

But first, this calls for a trip down memory lane, all the way back to 2011: to that time when
Jungkook was thirteen and tumbled head-first into an idiotic, embarrassing crush on Kim
Namjoon.

Everyone in BTS knew about it, probably. The only person he actually told was Taehyung, but this
was after the crush had long passed so the whispered confession was more an acknowledgment-of-
my-shameful-past sort of thing. His best friend got this wrinkled look of pain on his face and
Jungkook didn’t need to hear it to understand the words written plainly on his face: “Oh man, he’s
totally our dad, you had a crush on our dad, ew.” Taehyung wasn’t surprised, though. After all,
Jungkook wasn’t subtle. Choosing an agency based on one person who he thought was ‘cool’
wasn’t subtle, okay, fine, whatever.

Anyway, obviously that crush fizzled out before it could really begin, ruined by that same creature
called Kim Taehyung crashing into his life soon after. Taehyung who was special. At thirteen,
Jungkook didn’t know why he was special, he just knew he wanted his new hyung all to himself,
and it wasn’t until a couple years later that he started imagining things like kissing him, wondering
how it would feel. The fact that Taehyung was a bubbly teddy bear and low-key the baby of the
group, but could also turn into the frostiest bitch if he wasn’t in the mood to be cute—it set
Jungkook’s insides on fire.

And Taehyung was beautiful when he was happy and excited about something, duh. But when he
spaced out, not paying attention to what kind of face he was making, not thinking of anything in
particular, he became the type of tall, dark, handsome that screamed of something almost
forbidden. He was more alluring than anything in the world, but Jungkook didn’t want to think
about that, because occasionally finding your bandmate sexy might be cool but wondering about,
like, doing the sex with him wasn’t.

Plus Jungkook was young and didn’t know much about attraction and sex, except that maybe he
wouldn’t mind if it was with Taehyung. Before feelings became involved, when it was only
curiosity and lust, he stayed up nights replaying the memory of Taehyung and Hoseok kissing for
the show that one time, thinking about whether Taehyung’s lips would feel as delicious as they
looked. (And after he realized his feelings, he exiled the memory from his mind, because how dare
someone other than him kiss Taehyung and accuse him of using tongue, what the fuck. Taehyung
did not use tongue, okay. Stupid Hobi-hyung.)

So anyway, yes, Jungkook’s always known his crush on Taehyung was different from the one he
had on Namjoon. Jungkook craved attention, affection, and validation from Namjoon and not
much else. With Taehyung, he wanted all those things, but he also felt this sense of comfort
whenever he was around him, despite how Taehyung was even more of a hyper shit at that age and
therefore not what anyone might consider reliable. There was also this tenderness Jungkook held in
his heart towards him that he didn’t for anyone else. He cared about what Taehyung had to say
about everything, he wanted to share his thoughts with the older boy, wanted to experience all the
fun stuff with him, absorb his goodness and selflessness and charisma. He felt adrift whenever they
had to brave the difficulties their group faced and Taehyung wasn’t right by his side. Jungkook just
really liked him as a person, he wanted to constantly be around him.
Which brings him back to the mini epiphany exploding in his mind right now. Because he noticed
the contrast between his feelings for Taehyung and Namjoon forever ago, but the similarities are
only now clicking, and with that realization comes another, more horrifying one: that Jungkook
indeed has a type.

“Jungkookie likes the ones with duality,” Jimin had said matter-of-factly yesterday while the two
of them and Yoongi were having dinner. Yoongi had nodded before moving on to Hoseok’s type,
as if the two of them hadn’t just single-handedly overturned his entire existence. He thought about
it all last night before exhaustion dragged him down to sleep, memories flooding into his mind,
reels of both Namjoon and Taehyung being themselves and oh no, he was so mortified. Kill him
now please, @God.

Because Jimin’s right, Jungkook totally has a thing for guys who look cool and intimidating at
first, but are really just big fat dorks and way too soft of heart. How did he not notice before? He’s
always been obsessed with Taehyung’s multi-faceted personality, attracted to each different part of
it. For Namjoon, Jungkook crushed on him ‘cause of his attitude—the whole underground rapper
thing, loathe to follow the single acceptable path dictated to Korean youth—and for his thighs
(cough) and distant demeanour towards pretty much anyone non-Bangtan. But that crush tapered
into nothing, because Jungkook might have admired Namjoon more than anyone and thought he
was hot sometimes, but he didn’t want him in any deeper sense of the meaning.

Now, Jungkook feels nothing but want as he stares at a spot on the sofa. More specifically, at the
spot between Taehyung’s parted thighs, empty and inviting.

Taehyung is lounging back on the couch with his thighs spread wide open, and has Jungkook
mentioned how beautiful he is when he isn’t thinking of anything? Yes? Well, he is, he really is, so
note that down, folks.

A voice in Jungkook’s head chants at him, “Go sit in that empty spot, go, you belong there, he left
it open for you, think of how nice Taehyungie will feel all relaxed and warm, imagine the way his
thighs will bracket yours, press against you.”

Jungkook tells the voice to shut its trash mouth.

Having noticed him walk into the waiting room, Taehyung looks up from his phone now, lighting
up in that way that makes Jungkook feel alive.

“Jungkook-ah!” he calls.

Like a puppet compelled by a force greater than himself, he walks over to Taehyung. He pauses
before reaching those outstretched arms, but no one’s watching them, the rest of the members
sleeping or chatting as they get their makeup done. The fact that they don’t have to worry about the
Big Hit staff anymore since they’ve told Bang PD will forever feel strange, but the few times he
and Taehyung have hugged a bit too passionately back stage, he caught some of them hiding
smiles. No one’s been looking at them differently, though. Jungkook’s grateful for that.

He turns and sits, back to Taehyung’s chest. Warmth, satisfaction, happiness surge through his
body as he makes himself comfortable in the spot he eyed for far too long to be healthy. Taehyung
doesn’t let him stay an appropriate distance away either, dragging his ass right up to his crotch and
wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs into Jungkook’s hair, pressing a kiss to his ear. Jungkook’s heart jumps at
the pet name like it does every time, but stronger than ever now because they aren’t alone, even if
Taehyung was too quiet for anyone else to hear. Jungkook loves the way he says it. Not like how
old couples use the word as replacements for each other’s names, but with this weight to it, a secret
tenderness. Makes Jungkook feels special and wonder if Taehyung’s chest caves in a little every
time he says it, the way Jungkook’s does.

“What took you so long?” Taehyung asks, breath fanning over the nape of his neck.

“Lesson ran long this morning,” he mumbles, attempting not to squirm in pleasure. “And traffic
was bad.”

“Laaame.”

“Why are you only half-changed?” he asks, fingering the sleeve of the Taehyung’s hoodie.

“Ah, they’re making some last-minute alterations to my blazer.”

Jungkook hums. He stares at Taehyung’s mile-long legs stretched out on either side of him.
They’re wrapped up in tight black slacks, complemented by shiny black oxfords. Taehyung’s got
such amazingly long legs, the second longest in BTS after their Clumsy Tall Wonder. Jungkook
knows this from, ahem, personal observation, but the group’s also had all sorts of measurements
done for outfitting purposes. And they have fun with it, getting competitive about things that don’t
actually matter, teasing Seokjin for his broad shoulders but shorter limbs and Jimin for his
puniness, etc etc.

Unfortunately, Taehyung prefers not to flaunt his pretty, pretty legs, doesn’t like wearing tight
pants. Which is a total shame ‘cause Jungkook could stare at him all day. Once when they were
younger, he asked Taehyung why he lived in baggy pants and the other mumbled, “just more
comfortable that way” with a vague glance towards his groin area. Awkward. So yeah, Jungkook
didn’t ask more. At that point in time, he already understood why Taehyung might have a not-so-
teensy problem with restrictive bottoms since everyone had already seen each other naked way too
much, not to mention the showers they’ve shared.

As of a week ago, he understands even better. But anyway. Uh. Where was this going again?

“—listening to me?” filters through his one-track mind, and Jungkook flinches. He quickly takes
away his hand when he notices he was absently kneading Taehyung’s thigh.

“Huh?”

“Why do you always ignore me?” Taehyung whines, pout obvious in his voice. Jungkook turns
around so his legs are hanging over one of Taehyung’s instead, tapping a finger over his
boyfriend’s protruding bottom lip. Taehyung blinks at him sadly.

The idea that he could think Jungkook ignores him is hilarious. Taehyung has no idea how much
Jungkook stares at him when he isn’t paying attention, enough that Bang PD, like, told him in
actual words to stop looking if he doesn’t want their cover blown. Though Jungkook does feel a
little bad, he’s always sucked at multi-tasking, so sometimes he gets so caught up in his thoughts
that he doesn’t hear Taehyung at all.

“I was literally thinking about you just now,” he scoffs. Then he promptly tenses when he
recognizes how badly he outed himself. He’d take it back, except Taehyung lights up like a
Christmas tree.

“Oh yeah?” His smile turns into a smirk. “What about me?” he drawls in a deliberately deep voice.
Jungkook swats at him.
“None o’ your business.”

“Um, yeah it is.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaking an arm around Taehyung’s neck. When the elder pulls him flush
to his chest, Jungkook notices the shadow across his upper lip and chin. He reaches up to trace over
the light stubble.

“Did you not shave this morning?” he asks, endeared for some reason. Taehyung nuzzles against
his hand, his eyes boring into Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah. Was in a rush and forgot.”

“How does your facial hair grow so fast,” Jungkook mumbles, a bit jealous of his manliness. He’s
got some nice leg hair of his own, but his face is comparably bald. And it’s not that he wants to
have to shave every day like Taehyung does, Jungkook doesn’t even particularly like facial hair or
anything, he’s just annoyed that he wasn’t given the choice. He takes a hold of Taehyung’s arm
and rolls his sleeve back to stare down at his healthy amount of arm hair, so utterly male but not in
a gross way. It’s unfair to be so favoured by the gods. Jungkook tries to pluck out a hair and
Taehyung flinches back but seems to just find his attempts funny.

“Aw, Jungkookie,” he coos, his sneaky fingers slipping up under Jungkook’s own sleeve, brushing
over his arm. “Don’t worry, your hairlessness suits your adorable bunny face.”

Jungkook pouts. “That’s not a compliment.”

“Are you kidding? That’s the highest form of compliment I can think of.” A big hand curls around
Jungkook’s jaw, turning his face towards the nearest mirror, and Taehyung rests his chin on his
shoulder, pressing their cheeks together. “Look at how pretty you are,” he whispers.

Jungkook’s breath hitches. There’s a pulse of warmth in his heart and in the pit of his stomach. He
wants to kiss Taehyung. Tell him how stunning he is, but Jungkook’s shy and not good with his
words, with voicing feelings that make him ache.

“Okay, break it up, boys!”

The sudden volume makes him jump, jerking away from Taehyung and sliding on to the couch,
Taehyung’s hands remaining outstretched towards him as he glares at the intruder. Seokjin claps
loudly, shaking his head. “Y’all are cute and all but no one wants to see our two maknaes eye-fuck
each other in public, alrighty?”

Jungkook wants to die. Taehyung’s lips purse and waver, his eyes lowering bashfully, and Jimin
and Hoseok giggle on the other side of the room, trying not to be obvious but still loud as hell.

Namjoon wanders by with his hair half-done, snickering, but he stops when he passes in front of
Taehyung and squints at him. “Hey, isn’t that Jungkook’s?” he asks.

They both look down at the unbranded navy hoodie Taehyung’s got on, which isn’t really his usual
style. It looks familiar but Jungkook’s clothes sort of all look similar. Unthinkingly, he leans in and
presses his nose against the collar, taking a big whiff. “Oh hey, it is mine.” Somewhere, someone
mutters something about him being a dog, but he ignores them because it sounded like Seokjin, so
why would Jungkook pay attention. He pats Taehyung’s chest, admiring how he looks in the
hoodie, hanging just right on his shoulders.

“Wooow,” Namjoon squawks. “Fine, yell at us about how much you hate sharing your clothes but
Taehyung can just casually rummage through your closet, that’s cool.”

“Yeah, hey!” Seokjin joins in. “You always come after me when I wear your stuff and I’m your
hyung!”

Jungkook does his best to pretend none of them exist, that this situation isn’t happening, while
Taehyung scoots over to hug him around the waist, making that face where he’s pleased but
attempting to act like he isn’t. They’re saved by a staff member who rolls a rack of clothing into the
room and gasps at Jungkook as soon as she sees him.

“Jungkook-ah, there you are! We have your clothes for you, hurry and go change.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

He makes to get off but Taehyung’s arms tighten around him, the pout returning to his lips. “Let
me go,” Jungkook sighs, tapping his hand.

“Meet me in that empty room at the end of the hall later,” Taehyung whispers conspiratorially, and
Jungkook blinks at him for a moment before choking. Never let it be said that he’s against any
situation in which he gets to snog his hot-ass boyfriend, but they’re in public right now, hello,
Taehyung can’t just—proposition him so blatantly. He tries to complain but Taehyung smirks, sly
and sexy and eyeing him like a piece of meat. One of his hands glides over Jungkook’s ass,
squeezing the cheek from behind so it isn’t visible to any wandering eyes.

“I saw your outfit earlier.” Taehyung leans in close, waggling his eyebrows like the dweeb he is,
and it might’ve been funny if Jungkook didn’t know the heat behind his eyes was very real. “So
hot, it’d be a crime not to make out in it.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a straight line, letting Taehyung know how very inappropriate and
terrible of a role model he is as a hyung. Obviously, he doesn’t do a good job of hiding his
excitement, since Taehyung’s smirk softens into a smile. Not the huge, sunshiny one he gets when
he’s laughing really hard, but the quiet, private, unintentional one that makes Jungkook scramble to
figure out what he’s done to earn such an expression.

He scurries away before he forgets why he shouldn’t kiss it off Taehyung in front of everyone.

As he follows the staff noona to a different room, he thinks back to the revelation he had earlier
today, and he finds that he’s not as shocked as he was anymore. The type itself that he’s impartial
to might be embarrassing, but he doesn’t actually really care about the fact that he has one.

Because even though he definitely does, he’s starting to suspect that Taehyung is just his Ultimate
Type or something. And there’s only one of him. The silly, big-hearted best friend he’s got
telepathy with, who leads him, encourages him, makes him laugh like no other. And who also
happens to be the most attractive being on the planet. Who could beat that?

The practice rooms are technically supposed to be soundproof, but as soon as you pump up the
bass or start reaching for high notes, the cheap padding can’t hold up anymore. Bang PD’s said
that there are plans for a new Big Hit building in the works, but who knows when that will happen.

Jungkook trudges down the halls towards the room at the end that all of them favour for obvious
reasons. He can sort of hear the music from outside right now, but it’s the voice that really guides
him there.

A peek through the door window reveals Taehyung in a loose white shirt and gray sweatpants, red
snapback pulled backwards over his dark hair. The room is lit by only the light from the computer
screen. Jungkook waits for him to finish the line he’s practicing and pause the music before
knocking on the door.

Taehyung’s lips twitch up when he catches sight of Jungkook. He walks over to open the door.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Jungkook holds up the bag of snacks and drinks he jacked from the dorm. “Wanna take a
break?”

Taehyung glances over at the studio mic and music stand where his sheet music is sitting, pencil
marks scrawled over the lyrics and certain notes. He sighs through his nose. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

As Taehyung closes the door behind him, Jungkook pulls out Seokjin’s thermos and holds it out to
him, plopping down on a chair. “Jin-hyung made yuzu honey tea. I brought aloe juice too, if you
want some.”

Taehyung takes the thermos and tips it back, swallowing down a good third of it. He smacks his
lips, face scrunched up in satisfaction. “Damn, I needed that.”

“Are you hungry? There’s some gimbap.” Jungkook’s about to grab it but Taehyung waves at him.

“No, I’ll eat later. It’ll make my throat weird and I wanna get this right first.”

Jungkook nods, setting down the bag. He leans closer to Taehyung to peek at the notes he’s made
over the lyrics.

“Getting them Stigma high notes down, huh?”

Taehyung sighs, and it sounds too heavy, too upset for Jungkook’s liking. “Yeah...I mean, I can do
it just fine in the studio, but I’m probably gonna get nervous in front of ARMY. And after singing
and dancing to a bunch of our other songs already too.”

“Can I hear?”

Taehyung scoots his chair over to the computer, plays a couple recordings he took from earlier. He
hits the notes every time. The first few attempts are shakier and more strained, but he improves
with each try. Jungkook understands why he’s worried though, because for performances, they
only get that single try.

“What if you did it like this?” he asks, demonstrating what he means. He presses his fingers to his
throat, then his diaphragm. “If you use the strength here for that first note and here for that last
one, that might work better.”

Taehyung nods, copies him tentatively. He tilts his head with a frown, then tries again. On his third
attempt, he gets it perfectly. Jungkook points at him, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, like that!”
Taehyung hums in thought and goes a few more times.

Jungkook keeps him company for the next while as he practices, recording multiple different
versions and playing them back on the speakers. Every time he gets it just right, Jungkook whoops,
“Whoooaaaa, V!” throwing his fists in the air, and Taehyung shoots a baleful smile at him.

It’s another hour later that Taehyung deems his progress satisfactory, slumping into a chair with a
groan, his voice edging on hoarse. One of his legs finds Jungkook’s and he plonks it into his lap,
so Jungkook starts idly massaging it.

“You have an amazing voice, hyung,” he says, because it’s true and he feels like Taehyung doesn’t
hear it enough. “Dat depth. Dat versatility. The baritone that balances out the rest of our high
vocals. Hm? Isn’t that right?”

“Stoop,” Taehyung moans, his head tilting over the back of the chair, arm flung over his eyes.

“It’s true though!” Jungkook grins obnoxiously at him even though he isn’t looking, squeezing
Taehyung’s calf in a way that he knows tickles. “Mr. Widest Vocal Range of BTS. Mr. Best Breath
Control.”

Taehyung kicks at him, whining, and Jungkook laughs. He drags Taehyung over by his leg, the
wheelie chair coming easily, and when Taehyung drops his arm to look at him in confusion,
Jungkook stares back expectantly. Evidently, Taehyung gets it since he abandons his chair with a
snort to plant himself on Jungkook’s lap instead, who hugs him to his body. The chair sinks a little
lower but otherwise shows no sign of strain under both of their weight.

Now sat sideways on his thighs, Taehyung coils an arm around his neck and buries his face in
Jungkook’s hair, muffling an airy giggle against him. “What’s got you so affectionate today, hm?”
the elder asks.

“I...no I’m not,” Jungkook retorts automatically, then curses himself because why can’t he just be
honest for once in his life? No one’s here but Taehyung. He can afford to be nicer after his
boyfriend spent a whole afternoon practicing two lines because he wanted to show his best side to
their fans.

“Ha!” Taehyung’s eyes roll to meet his before sliding up and down his face, a bit judgy and a bit
smug, but mostly fond. “That was your ‘pay attention to me, hyung, let me touch you, hyung’
stare.”

“My what,” Jungkook splutters.

Taehyung laughs, all squeaky and breathy. He curls himself tight around Jungkook’s shoulders,
nuzzling him. “Don’t bother pretending, baby. How long do you think we’ve known each other?”

Jungkook wracks his mind for a way to respond because what does he even say to that, but
Taehyung’s apparently moved on already, pressing his palm to the top of Jungkook’s chest.

“Have you been working out more recently?” he mutters, groping the swell of the muscle
shamelessly. Jungkook makes a noise of affirmation. He’s always liked exercising, and now that
he’s allowed to kiss Taehyung, he’s made it his personal mission to feed his boyfriend’s muscle
kink. It’s a win-win for him because turned-on Taehyung is hands-down the hottest thing in the
entire universe, including the sun and whatever else happens to be hot. It’s scientifically proven.

Taehyung’s hand has migrated to Jungkook’s bicep now, kneading it with his pretty fingers.
Jungkook jumps when he feels teeth against his neck, a gentle pressure that’s only enough to
pinken the skin.

“Mm, can’t reach your arm from here so I’ll have to settle for biting your neck instead,” Taehyung
explains ever so helpfully. Jungkook’s laughter makes Taehyung vibrate in his lap.
“What’s with your obsession for biting, geez.”

“What, don’t you get that urge too? What other reason would there be for muscles being so swole?
They’re begging to get teeth in them, they want it. Mmm, nice and firm and strong.” Pointedly, he
pinches Jungkook’s bicep, who laughs harder, pretending to shake him off. Undeterred, Taehyung
kisses him on the neck where Jungkook knows he’s got a mole, and his heart warms.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, but okay.”

“Shh, don’t be a party-pooper.” Taehyung puckers his lips, making loud, obnoxious sucking
sounds against Jungkook’s neck but not actually using enough force to give Jungkook any hickeys.
It’s sad that they can’t leave marks, it’s an embarrassing thing to want but also kind of exciting.
Then again, maybe it’s a good thing since if they were allowed, Taehyung would probably paint
his entire neck red and purple. Just imagining the hyungs’ teasing makes Jungkook cringe.

“Hey, do you, like.” Taehyung stops, tapping out a rhythm against Jungkook’s collarbone as he
thinks. “If our building caught on fire and I passed out from smoke inhalation, do you think you’d
be able to carry me all the way out?”

A small, disbelieving laugh bursts out of Jungkook’s chest. Sometimes he thinks he has a hold of
the way Taehyung’s nonsensical, whimsical mind works, but then he’ll be surprised by stuff like
this. “I—yeah, I could.”

“Not on your back, I mean in your arms.”

“Why not on my back?” Jungkook demands. “It makes the most sense, I can run faster and carry
you longer that way.”

“Because the ceilings are low and you’d hit my head on stuff. Oh, and say you have a scratch on
your back. Not that deep but it stings if you put weight on it.”

Jungkook pulls away enough that Taehyung is unearthed from his neck, and he squints at the older
boy. “You’re just trying to figure out if I can carry you bridal style, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says bluntly, his face impassive. Seriously, no shame, this guy. “And call it
groom style, I’m a man.”

Something about Taehyung using the ‘g’ word to refer to himself, the implication of him being a
groom and therefore being married, the two of them being married, opens a hole in Jungkook’s
stomach. But it’s a good hole, one with, y’know, flowers blooming out of it or something.

“You know I can,” Jungkook huffs. In a split-second, he’s rearranged his arms and hopped up to
his feet, holding Taehyung bri—groom style. Meanwhile, his hyung looks absolutely delighted, his
hands snug around Jungkook’s neck as he beams up at him with wide eyes. Jungkook sways him a
little and he laughs like a little kid, throwing his arms in the air as if he’s on a roller coaster. He’s
so easily amused, so innocent in unexpected ways.

Jungkook doesn’t really get what there is to be so happy about, but he just loves Taehyung so
much. The adoration builds until it overflows out of his chest, leaving him more breathless than the
actual carrying does. He wonders if Taehyung will tell him he loves him anytime soon because
Jungkook refuses to be the one to say it first, so he can’t unless Taehyung does, and he’s been
dying to recently.

“You know what else I can do?” Jungkook says, voice quiet and low, but Taehyung doesn’t
immediately catch on.
 “What?” he asks excitedly.

Jungkook walks them over to a wall, ignores the disapproving sound Taehyung makes when he
sets him on his feet, then bends down and grabs him by the thighs, wrapping them around his
waist. Taehyung yelps, clinging to him, but Jungkook’s got a solid hold on him and lifts him
effortlessly, bracing his back against the wall.

“Ooh, so strong,” Taehyung says, his voice airy. Jungkook preens. Pressing Taehyung against the
wall, he leans in and kisses him square on the mouth, their lips coming together naturally.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung half-moans, kissing back like a starved man. His hands touch Jungkook
everywhere he can reach, running through his hair, brushing feather-light down his neck, sliding
down his arms. “Oh,” he says against Jungkook’s mouth as he feels the way the younger’s biceps
bulge from holding up his weight.

Jungkook doesn’t want this to get too heated, not in a practice room, but it’s hard with Taehyung’s
legs tightening around his waist and his wicked tongue slipping between Jungkook’s teeth. Rather
than the lust ballooning in his gut, he focuses on the mushiness in his chest instead, angling his
head to kiss Taehyung soft and deep, lips melting against each other and tongues twining. He
thinks about how amazing Taehyung is, how glad he is that they’re in the same group, and all the
ways he wants to be there for him, boosting his hyung up when he’s feeling down.

Taehyung is pliant against him for a bit, humming happily between kisses as he basks in the open
affection and lets Jungkook kiss him as he wants. But he never stays that way for long, soon he’s
dragging Jungkook harder to him, his lips moving with fervor like he has to reciprocate and show
Jungkook how much he means to him too.

They try to break for air a couple times only for one of them to tug the other in for more,
eventually separating after they’re both panting. Jungkook leans his forehead against Taehyung’s,
eyes closed and catching his breath.

“So how much pain are your arms in right now,” Taehyung teases. Jungkook’s eyes shoot open to
glare at him.

“Please, I could go all day.”

Taehyung throws his head back with a sharp laugh and Jungkook’s offense is taken over by a grin.

“Maybe you should show me then,” Taehyung whispers, the picture of seduction and everything
depraved in the world. Except for his dumb jiggly eyebrows, which Jungkook wants to tell him to
stop because it truly isn’t sexy in the least, but how can he complain about any ruined moods when
he finds himself laughing every time?

“Maybe I will,” he taunts back. Taehyung smiles at him with his canines, pats Jungkook to signal
to let him down, and once he’s on his feet, immediately grabs the younger by his wrist.

“Back to the dorms,” he announces to no one in particular, swiping up their bag of snacks and
marching straight for the door.

And Jungkook lets himself get pulled along, as he always does.

Chapter End Notes

a bit of a shorter chapter this time, but i hope u liked it!!! <33
 Chapter 19
Chapter Notes

this chap is partly tae pov and partly jkpov...i had to write it this way to make both of
their perspectives clearer, but it shouldnt be too confusing, i hope!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It’s been a couple weeks since their little, er, handjob-blowjob exploration session (Jungkook
would so smack him if he ever called it that out loud, but alas, even their golden maknae can’t read
minds, and maybe Taehyung is a teensy bit sad about it for this situation in particular because he
loves having Jungkook’s attention on him. Even the smacking type).

Now that the doors have been opened and the two of them have discovered that the other side, the
physical-in-the-romantic-sense side, really isn’t so different or scary after all, it’s like they can’t
keep their hands off of each other. In the middle of an interview, when Jungkook starts zoning out
with his eyes on Taehyung, Taehyung will know from his face that he’s thinking about something
dirty. Or they’ll be backstage and Taehyung will give Jungkook a look, and that’s the only thing
they’ll need to be scrambling for some place they can make out.

Of course, this all happens in between the fluff of regular life like practice, lessons, and the quiet
moments where he cuddles up with Jungkook while they watch anime, the platonic best-friend
things they’ve been doing for years. It’s amazing. Taehyung is happy every day. He has everything
he could want in life: a career doing what he loves, a family who supports him, five loving hyungs,
and the boy he’s loved forever.

...Or so he tells himself, anyway.

Full disclosure, he’s just been trying to brainwash himself into concentrating on those lovely, cute
things rather than the perpetual horniness simmering under his skin. It flares every time Jungkook
so much as lifts his arms above his head, revealing the way his jeans cinch in at his waist and
round out at his ass.

God, Taehyung feels like an insatiable beast sometimes. Like all the hormones he’s kept
suppressed ever since he went through puberty are crashing down on him now, to the extent where
he wonders if there’s something wrong with him. Is it normal to want your boyfriend so badly? He
hopes it is. He has no clue if Jungkook is as affected, the dude’s got such tight reins on his feelings
for Taehyung still. His way of asking for affection is so subtle, pressing his leg against Taehyung’s
or leaning his head close to his when they sit side by side. Taehyung has a feeling he’s holding
himself back, but he hopes it’s for no reason other than that he’s shy and this is all very new.

“Wh-what are you thinking ‘bout?” Jungkook pants, and Taehyung gives his cock another nice
hard suck just to watch his face twist. The younger is spread out on his bed, pants shoved down to
his ankles, thighs open and his face crimson red. Taehyung loves that he gets all sweaty so easily,
always quick to get worked up, quick to start squirming.

“You,” he breathes, and Jungkook’s dick twitches in his hand.

They ended up here in Jungkook’s room after rushing home from the concert because Jungkook
just looked so hot on stage today that Taehyung couldn’t keep his hands off him. He would’ve felt
horrible for sexiling Namjoon, but the leader was passed out on the couch for some reason by the
time they were both washed up, so he dragged Jungkook into the room and immediately stuck his
hand down his pants.

There’s something a bit different today. Not the sexual tension because they seem to reach new
heights in that department every time, it’s just that, a part of Taehyung feels...ready. He doesn’t
know how to describe it, but he’s at that point where want is outweighing his shyness and
hesitation. Plus there’s the comfort of a free day tomorrow too.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, a complaint towards the half-hearted handjob Taehyung’s giving him,
or maybe not it’s not the handjob itself—Taehyung likes to think he understands the nuances of
Jungkook’s tone by now, and it sounds more like he’s hurt that Taehyung isn’t giving him his full
attention during such an intimate moment.

In apology, he lets go of Jungkook’s dick and climbs up his body, draping himself over the
younger as he presses a kiss to his mouth. Jungkook returns the kiss immediately, hugging him
close.

When they separate, Taehyung looks down at him, a bit apprehensive, a bit excited. “Sorry,” he
whispers, stroking Jungkook’s hair back from his face. “Was just thinking about something.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, just as softly. His lips naturally purse into a pout and Taehyung kisses him
once, then again, unable to resist. Not too much though or he’ll start losing his train of thought, so
he pulls away, sitting up and resting his palms on Jungkook’s chest, rubbing over the soft material
of his hoodie.

He clears his throat. “Um...well, I was wondering if you...want to...have sex tonight?”

Jungkook blinks at him. Then his eyes go round. “You mean, like, all the way?”

“Yeah. Only if we’re both ready, obviously, but I-I’d be down if you are. We haven’t had a day off
in forever, so I was thinking...well, you know.” He bites his lip. “And we can stop any time, it’s not
like we have to do anything, we can change our minds halfway th—”

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s jaw locks in place. “Huh?”

Jungkook averts his eyes, his pout growing. “I said okay.”

“Oh.” Taehyung doesn’t move from his spot on top of him, unsure why he’s surprised. It’s not that
he thought Jungkook would adamantly deny him, but.

“So, like, just to be clear, you’re talking about—a-anal sex, right?” Jungkook still isn’t looking at
him, but he must sense Taehyung’s hesitant nod. “Okay.” And he cups Taehyung’s waist, carefully
setting him on the mattress before sliding off the bed himself.

“Jungkookie?”

Pants still hanging off one foot, Jungkook toddles over to a pile of clothing in the corner of the
room, and after digging through it for a while, unearths a black plastic bag. He kicks his jeans off
before sitting back down primly on the edge of the bed, his face flushed as he thrusts the bag at
Taehyung.
Taehyung takes it and peeks inside. It’s too dark to see, so he turns the bag upside down and dumps
the contents on the bed.

Lube, condoms, and some weird, bulb-like device tumble out. Taehyung gawks.

“What,” he says slowly.

Jungkook lets out a sound somewhere between a snort and a cough. “Jin-hyung gave it to me.”

”What.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s hands inch up to cover his ears like always whenever he’s embarrassed and
wants to run away screaming, until he seems to realize he’s being obvious and slides his hands to
cup the back of his neck instead. “’Have fun with Taehyung,’ he said.”

“Oh my god.” Taehyung’s body shakes with silent giggles. He picks up the box of extra-large
condoms and laughs harder. “Wait. Is this why...? He, uh, tried to give me the birds and bees talk
the other day.”

Jungkook gasps and covers the lower half of his face. His legs curl up towards his chest. “ No.”

“Yeah. I mean, I think it was just supposed to be a refresher or something ‘cause he didn’t go into
detail, but he started ranting about STDs and I kinda ran away.”

Jungkook’s wordless shout is muffled into his knees as he falls backwards and starts violently
rolling from side to side like a pill bug on its last legs. Taehyung slaps his ass.

“Why did you get a bag and I got a whole lecture? So unfair.”

“’Cause he knows I’d kick him and escape if he tried to talk to me.”

“...Okay, good point,” Taehyung chuckles. “So what’s this?” He holds up the bulb thing. Jungkook
lifts his head to look and goes bright red again.

“J-Jin-hyung said we’re supposed to...clean...ourselves...with it...”

Taehyung studies the contraption with narrowed eyes. It takes a moment, but once it lcicks, he
sucks in a sharp breath, eyes widening. “Ohhh. This is the—that thing.” Jungkook nods. “For the
person that...uh, offers up their butt?”

“Don’t say it like that,” he groans, stuffing his face in the mattress again. “But yeah, it’s. Yeah.”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. His eyes trail over the back of
Jungkook’s fluffy-haired head, his oversized black hoodie and naked, strong legs.

At the end of the day, Taehyung doesn’t really care that much about who tops or bottoms. He
wants to try both eventually, experience everything he can with Jungkook. He’s sure anything with
him would be fun, and the thought of his boyfriend pinning him down with those muscles is hot
enough that Taehyung might be able to convince himself that sticking something up his butt isn’t
that scary. Jungkook would probably be really careful with him, so he’s got that going for him.

However, the one thing which has him leaning towards a preference is how badly he wants to
touch Jungkook. He wants to touch him everywhere, in places no one’s ever seen, let alone laid
their hands on, in places Jungkook doesn’t even know are sensitive. He wants to make him feel so
good he can’t think, brand his body with his hands and own him, because Jungkook gives so much
of himself to ARMY, but the rest of him belongs to Taehyung.

And Taehyung doesn’t know if the whole ‘getting fucked so good you can’t walk thing’ is real or
exaggeration, but god does he want it, his quiet, reserved Jungkookie moaning, writhing from how
good Taehyung makes him feel, his legs shaking as he comes.

Something primal in Taehyung wants to be inside of him. He wonders if Jungkook will allow such
an intrusion of his body, the boy who used to be too shy to look him in the eye. He thinks Jungkook
might take it as a blow to his masculinity. If he does, Taehyung wants all the more to show him
that there shouldn’t be masculinity or femininity to pleasure (or so he read in a magazine once and
adopted as his personal motto, as of this second), but only if Jungkook isn’t against it. Taehyung
would never want to pressure him into doing anything.

“How do you wanna do it?” he mumbles. Jungkook sits up, legs tucked under his body, hands on
his knees. They take turns staring at each other and at the stuff lying on the sheets.

Jungkook picks up the enema. He glares at it like he did that one time he found a hate letter for
Taehyung lying around.

Against all expectations, he says determinedly, “I’ll do it,” and Taehyung might as well have
gotten sucker-punched in the chest.

“What,” he wheezes.

“I’ll bottom,” Jungkook says, eyes flickering up to his.

Well, if this isn’t the biggest plot twist of his life. “Are you—sure?” Taehyung isn’t trying to act
like bottoming is the end of the world or something because it really isn’t, but he thinks it’s
reasonable to be surprised that this is coming from Jungkook.

“Yeah.” Jungkook turns the device in his hands, scrutinizing the plastic packaging and eyes glazing
over the instructions on the back. “Apparently bottoming for the first time kinda hurts, so I’ll do
it.”

“Wait, what?” Taehyung sits up straight. “I don’t want you t—”

“Nah, I got it.” Jungkook jumps off the bed and backs away with a cheesy wink and finger guns.
“You just sit there and wait for me, hyung, got it?”

Taehyung is still unsure, but Jungkook’s already at the door. “...Okay, but do you need help?”

“Wh—no!”

“Moral support?”

“No!”

“Some good ol’ hyung lovin’?”

Jungkook slams the door on him.

After Jungkook finishes washing up down there, he stares at himself in the mirror like the lame
protagonist of a cliché coming-of-age movie, feeling simultaneously dirty, and cleaner than he’s
ever been before, and also a little less manly.
He wonders if Yoongi, icon of gender equality and self-proclaimed King of Bisexuality, would
scold him for thinking that way, if Namjoon would rant at him about “toxic masculinity” or
whatever that difficult term he uses all the time is. He wonders if his hyungs would be
disappointed that a part of him feels like wanting Taehyung inside of him makes him less of a man.

Jungkook knows it’s wrong, he’s just...

What is manliness at the end of the day anyway? He’s been taught that men shouldn’t hold hands
or hug each other for too long because that’s gay and gayness is wrong, but he knows now that it
isn’t. So where does that put the lessons he learned about how to be a proper man? Should he
ignore them now that he understands they’re wrong, even though the rest of the country makes
such a big deal out of following them? And he’s spent so long listening to everyone tell him how a
male idol should act in order to be desirable, what about all of that?

The thing is, he wants to be the one to make Taehyung feel good too, to control his pleasure and
make him squirm and groan. But when Taehyung comes at him with that hunger in his eyes, that
laser focus, before he knows it, Jungkook’s knees are weak and he’s letting Taehyung do whatever
he wants with him, helpless under his touch. Taehyung’s been taking care of him for so long, since
he was a kid. It’s become an instinct somehow, makes him more comfortable to let Taehyung lead.

Or maybe Jungkook just likes to be doted on, likes how Taehyung looks at him like he’s fuckin’
wagyu, and this is all really on him and everything else is an excuse.

He lets out a groan. Slaps his cheeks hard enough for blood to return to his pale face.

Whatever, he’s thought about this enough that he’s decided none of it matters anymore. The only
thing knows for sure is that he wants to be close to Taehyung in a way no one else is allowed to be.
So he wants Taehyung on top of him, sue him. Jungkook is good at a lot of things but the times he
isn’t feeling confident, Taehyung has always been the one he’s gone to, who protects and inspires
him. Jungkook likes being taken care of by him.

It’s nerve-wracking to be so vulnerable, but he reminds himself this is his best friend who would
never judge him or make fun of him, no matter how high his moans go later because he’s a tenor,
okay, it’s not his fault! Taehyung would probably enjoy it in fact, dirty bastard.

That thought makes Jungkook grin.

Yeah, he’s gonna forget about the useless stuff and concentrate on how comfortable and safe he
feels with Taehyung, and the heat that builds in his chest when he thinks about connecting their
bodies. The way the tendons on Taehyung’s neck stand out when he throws his head back in
pleasure, the way the veins bulge out of his arms. How his eyes darken and his lower lip gets
sucked into his mouth when Jungkook does something provocative.

With a final nod at his image in the mirror, Jungkook exits the bathroom in just his boxers.
Taehyung’s exactly where he left him, still fully clothed and sat on the bed, fiddling with the
strings of his hoodie. He brightens when he sees Jungkook, immediately throwing his arms open.
For once, Jungkook lets himself dive into them without hesitation.

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung starts, and the younger already knows what he wants to say. “You
know, you shouldn’—”

“I want it,” Jungkook cuts in, his face buried in his hyung’s neck. “If...if you’re okay with it.”

Taehyung pauses but his hand doesn’t stop petting down Jungkook’s bare back. Maybe Jungkook
finally sounds sure of himself, because Taehyung’s answering “’kay” seems like it’s said through a
smile. Jungkook snuggles into him happily, biting back his content hum.

“So like, I haven’t done this before, obviously, and it’s probably gonna be super messy and awks.”
Taehyung laughs nervously.

And that’s all Jungkook needs to feel stupid for being so nervous. “Who cares?” He pulls away to
grin at Taehyung. “I haven’t either, but it’s us. We’re gonna have fun either way.”

Taehyung’s eyes soften. His smile is so adoring that Jungkook’s tempted to look away. “Yeah.”

“Les geddit.”

“Fine.” Without warning, Taehyung yanks Jungkook’s face into his, but his mouth is soft when
they meet in the middle. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to kissing Taehyung. It
honestly feels like too much every time, and it doesn’t help that they keep getting better at riling
each other up, learning what the other person likes. Taehyung flicks his tongue over his in that
fleeting, unsatisfying way he knows pisses Jungkook off, the damn tease, and Jungkook retaliates
by nipping at his bottom lip.

“God,” Taehyung breathes between kisses. His hands are already roaming, squeezing along
Jungkook’s shoulders. “Can’t stand when you’re shirtless, I can’t think.”

Jungkook lets out a tiny giggle, flattered and endeared. He allows Taehyung to push him on to his
back and tilts his neck back to let him lick his way down.

Jungkook thinks he did a good job of hiding how self-conscious he was about his body—or just his
dick, really, because Taehyung’s proven time and time again how much he appreciates every part
of him that he’s seen already, but anyway. He’s since learned that Taehyung likes his dick too,
which is cool.

This, though, is where Jungkook kind of wants to draw the line.

They’re both completely naked now. He yelps when he feels something warm and wet poke his
asshole, not having expected it with Taehyung busy sucking hickeys into his inner thighs just a
second ago. Taehyung stares up at him with wide, alarmed eyes.

“Sorry, did you—you don’t like that?” he asks meekly, and Jungkook quickly shakes his head.

“No—I mean—is, isn’t that gross?”

Taehyung frowns like he has to consider this for a bit. Jungkook doesn’t get it, what is there to
think about. Butts are pretty gross. “Well...yeah, maybe a little?” Taehyung tries. “But you washed
here earlier, didn’t you?”

Jungkook scrubbed the hell outta the little pucker, yes, yes he did. “Yeah.”

“What, do you normally not when you shower or something?”

“Of course I do, what the fuck!” Jungkook squawks, thoroughly offended. He takes his hygiene
very seriously, thank you very much.

Taehyung blinks up at him. “Okay, yeah, so I sorta wanna put my tongue in there. Is that weird?”

Jungkook splutters. “Yeah, it’s weird—”

“But you don’t hate it?”

Silence.

Taehyung sticks his tongue out and unceremoniously licks a stripe up his hole.

Jungkook jerks, a gasp catching in his throat. From his incognito-mode Naver search of “how to
butt sex,” he learned that there are gazillions of nerve endings in the asshole, but nothing could’ve
prepared him for how it actually feels to have Taehyung, hottest man Jungkook has literally ever
seen in his entire life, lick him there. It’s dirty in how taboo it is, and Taehyung must feel some sort
of way about it too because the darkness is returning to his eyes. He pushes Jungkook’s legs open
wider, lifts his hips higher and slides a pillow under his butt, then proceeds to bury his face in
Jungkook’s ass.

“Holy shit, hyung,” Jungkook squeaks. He clenches his jaw hard as Taehyung laps at his hole a
few times before prodding the firm tip of his tongue inside.

The fact that it feels so good is confusing, that something going up there can be so nice.
Taehyung’s tongue is hot and pliant, slippery and persistent, swirling circles around his opening
and dipping in when Jungkook’s loose enough. Then there’s the sensation of a comparably rigid
finger, cool with lube, poking at his hole.

Taehyung withdraws enough to take a breath and ask, “Good?”

Jungkook nods dazedly against the mattress. The back of his hand is pressed against his mouth,
teeth marks already bitten into the skin, and Taehyung glances up at it glumly but doesn’t make
him move his hand away. They both know the dorm walls aren’t as thick as they’d like.

“I’m gonna put my finger in,” Taehyung announces grandly. Jungkook almost laughs.

“Yeah.”

He stares up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on staying relaxed and not thinking about how big
Taehyung’s hands are and how he can feel the length and boniness of his pretty fingers. Or, finger.
Only one finger. For now.

“It’s all in!” Taehyung informs him happily, rubbing his thigh in comfort, and hey, that wasn’t so
bad. It didn’t hurt at all, just felt a little funny. When he tells Taehyung as much, the other says,
“good, good,” and starts moving his finger carefully. Out, in. Out, in.

“God,” Taehyung whispers, his breath hot against Jungkook’s skin. His cock twitches. “This is so
hot.”

Jungkook leans up on his elbows, looking down curiously, but he can’t really see anything from
this angle. “Yeah?” he says, pleased because he’s just stupid like that. Him and his damn praise
kink.

“Mm-hm.” Taehyung’s gaze flickers up to his, trails down the length of his body before stopping
again at where his finger is tucked inside of Jungkook. He licks his lips. A thrill runs up
Jungkook’s spine.

“You can put in another,” he says quietly, Taehyung checking his expression like he’s making
sure. He grabs the lube bottle and makes a mess, dripping it over his middle finger and the sheets,
but Jungkook doesn’t complain.
When Taehyung pauses, gently touching Jungkook’s rim with the second finger, he realizes that
Taehyung’s waiting for the lube to warm up, and Jungkook’s chest clenches so hard that he has to
lie back down.

“We’re goin’ in, sergeant,” Taehyung mutters as his middle finger begins to ease in, slower even
than the first one.

It hurts a lot more than he expected, a sting which gradually shifts into a pressure that’s still too
close to discomfort. The gasp muffled by his hand this time is one of pain, and Taehyung stops
immediately, his eyes huge with panic.

“’m good, gimme a sec,” Jungkook hisses out.

It takes a lot of waiting, kisses pressed over his thighs, and cautious movements until they’re at a
point where Taehyung can thrust his fingers in and out smoothly. Jungkook tries to channel
“puddle” with his entire body, liquefying against the bed, brain-washing his ass into loosening up.
He went a bit soft from the pain, but when Taehyung’s left hand finds his dick and starts stroking it
lazily, he’s back to throbbing within an embarrassingly short time.

“Doing so good,” Taehyung coos at him. Fuck if his hand-eye coordination isn’t attractive as hell.
“You know next up is the fun part, right?”

“Wh-what fun part?” Jungkook grunts out. His head is starting to go fuzzy, Taehyung’s fingers
make him feel weird, like there’s something that shouldn’t be there inside him but now that it is
and he’s getting used to it, the pressure is good. And the elder is doing something strange too,
prodding around, the pads of his fingertips stroking along his walls.

Jungkook registers the small “oh” that pops out of Taehyung’s red lips, before there’s a spark deep
inside him, lighting up and licking up his spine like fire.

It feels good, not like an explosion or a wave crashing on top of him, but the more Taehyung rubs
at it, the more it builds, the better it gets, until Jungkook realizes he’s tearing up and whining.

“Fuck,” he hears from somewhere below him. “Hey, Jungkook-ah, can I try something?”

He makes a questioning noise high in his throat, the most positive answer he can manage in the
moment. And then there’s a pressure outside of him, rubbing against the skin between his hole and
his balls, while fingers continue to caress that spot inside of him.

Jungkook sees white. “Tae,” he cries out, squirming mindlessly.

“I’m here, baby. You doing okay?”

“Ah, fuck,” he grits out, throwing his head back and arching his back. “Holy shit, I feel weird,
Tae.”

“Bad weird?”

“Mmm—no—”

The pressure on his prostate from both the outside and inside lessen as Taehyung switches to
scissoring his fingers instead, making sure to stretch him sufficiently, and Jungkook can breathe
again. He gulps in breaths, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“You’re so cute,” Taehyung murmurs, his deep voice closer than Jungkook expected. He opens his
bleary eyes to see his boyfriend gazing down at him. Jungkook reaches for him until he lowers
himself into his embrace, kissing him softly.

“I see you’ve done your research,” Jungkook teases when his breathing is finally even again,
giggling at Taehyung’s ticklish pecks all over his cheek.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Taehyung says cheekily. It’s kind of weird how dumb they’re being
while Taehyung’s still got his fingers up his ass, but Jungkook decides he likes it. “I know way too
much about male anatomy now.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, dragging him into another long, wet kiss that Taehyung’s fingers stutter to
a stop for. When they part, Jungkook licks his lips, preening at the way Taehyung’s looking at
him. “So...wanna do the third finger?”

Taehyung hums, backing away to look down at Jungkook’s hole. The younger gets the sudden
urge to cover himself up, but that’s totally stupid so he forces himself to lie still. “Did you know
that using three fingers is mostly just from porn and shitty fanfiction?” Taehyung comments.
“Like, two fingers is usually more than enough prep, three is kinda excessive and overboard unless
your butthole’s on the sensitive end, and a couple hyungs even told me it’s better to stick with two
‘cause if they loosen up too much, it’s not as good. Oh, but they were probably talking about
vaginal sex, not anal.”

Jungkook doesn’t really register anything he says after “a couple hyungs,” and he has to focus on
being grateful that Taehyung didn’t mention any specific names because if he did, Jungkook would
probably punch him for mentioning some other guy while they’re in bed. Does Taehyung go
around talking about sex with his hyungs? Is it weird if Jungkook is bothered by that? He talked
about his sexual awakening with Yoongi-hyung that one time, after all, so that makes him a
hypocrite, doesn’t it?

“Oh,” is what he settles on.

Taehyung nods, his cheeks bunched up from how hard his lips are pressed into a line. “Yeah, but
you’re precious and there’s no way we’re hurting you, so let’s do three fingers just in case.”

Jungkook nods. “Probably a good idea.” He looks pointedly at Taehyung’s humongous erection.
He’s been like that for a decent while, it looks like it hurts. Which, by the way, what do they even
feed the kids in Daegu, like damn.

“Okay, here we go!”

Cue more lube and wiggling. Surprisingly, the third finger isn’t so bad, but that might have to do
with how much less nervous Jungkook has gotten, plus the fact that Taehyung suddenly takes his
cock into his mouth as soon as he starts. It feels like heaven, wet and warm, Jungkook can’t even
think.

Occasionally, he gets jealous of how quickly Taehyung learns things, not that Jungkook himself is
lacking in that department, but Taehyung’s memory borders on photographic or something, it’s that
good.

But Jungkook can officially say this isn’t one of those times because Taehyung immediately,
unerringly finds his prostate again, rubbing little circles on it, stronger now with three fingers, and
Jungkook can only pant, clenching around him.

“Tae,” he chokes, pushing Taehyung’s head away from his dick. “N-not both, I don’t wanna
come.”

Taehyung’s eyes go half-lidded, his tongue snaking out to swipe over his lips. “That good, huh?”

“Sh-shut up.”

Taehyung goes quiet as he continues to work his three fingers in and out. Jungkook would worry
that this was boring for him if half his mind wasn’t out of commission from the strange pain-
pleasure pressure in his hole and how uncontrollable he feels each time Taehyung touches his
prostate, like his skin’s too tight to contain his body. The coherent half of Jungkook’s mind stops
worrying though when he musters up the concentration to watch Taehyung’s face. He’s so focused
on Jungkook that he almost looks like he’s in a trance, his other hand exploring Jungkook’s body,
caressing up the sides of his abdomen, up to his chest to thumb teasingly over his nipples.

“Ah,” Jungkook holds his hand against his mouth. “Tae.”

“Hmm?”

“Tae,” he whispers again, just to say his name.

“You’re okay, yeah?” He nods blearily. “Fuck, you should see yourself...you’re so pink down
here.” And as if he’s afraid Jungkook won’t understand what he’s referring to, Taehyung curls his
fingers in Jungkook’s ass.

Jungkook cries out, his thighs flexing. God, he thinks he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get more—he
wants more? Yes, yes he wants more now, more. Experimentally, he clenches around Taehyung’s
fingers and is thrilled to find no pain. “Doesn’t hurt anymore, Tae, you can—put it in.”

Taehyung pauses, a soothing hand running over Jungkook’s abs. “Really? There’s no rush, Kook-
ah.”

Sure, there isn’t a rush, Jungkook knows, except the one in his body, thrumming in his blood,
screaming for him to hurry and get on with the show because it’ll be even better than now. He
peels his eyes open, gazing up at Taehyung. “I’m ready.”

So Taehyung carefully pulls his fingers out, smiling all endeared at Jungkook when the younger
scowls at the emptiness, and wipes his nasty hands over Jungkook’s sheets.

“You suck,” Jungkook informs him.

“We’re gonna have to wash everything anyway,” Taehyung says, blasé, and Jungkook kind of
wants to deck himself for the warmth that blooms in his chest from Taehyung saying ‘we,’ as if
washing the sheets together (after they have sex together) is a ‘them’ thing now instead of a
‘Jungkook’ thing, even though it’s his bed.

“Fine,” he sniffs. Taehyung faces him just so he can see his dramatic eye-roll.

“Do you, uh, wanna do it like this?” the elder asks, gesturing to Jungkook who’s flat on his back,
pillow under his hips.

“Yeah,” he says, without elaborating aloud that doing this his first time without Taehyung’s face in
sight would scare him a little.

“Okay.”
Taehyung retrieves a condom, his fumbling making Jungkook laugh at him, earning him a glare.
Jungkook reaches over to help him roll it on.

“We should try it raw some time,” Jungkook says, deliberately keeping his tone casual. He means
it. He wants to be as close to Taehyung as physically possible and that includes getting his huge,
pretty cock inside him bare, but he’s also saying it ‘cause riling Taehyung up is so much fun. A
perverse smugness surges through him at how his boyfriend closes his eyes in a groan and his dick
twitches. Jungkook strokes him for longer than he needs to to lube him up. He loves everything
about Taehyung’s cock, the way it looks and feels and tastes.

“You brat,” Taehyung mutters, sighing at his cheeky grin and the waggling eyebrows he learned
from Taehyung himself.

Taehyung gets comfortable between Jungkook’s legs, stretching his thighs over his own. Then he
takes his length in hand and nudges the head against Jungkook’s hole, before leaning down and
kissing him on the cheek.

“Ready?” he whispers, his beautiful eyes curved into crescents.

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers back.

The first push inside paralyzes him with the pain. He doesn’t even really react at first, shocked out
of his mind because he didn’t think it would still hurt after all that prep, but apparently Taehyung’s
cock is thicker than his fingers. Jungkook’s face crumples in pain and Taehyung instantly freezes.
Jungkook hears his breath catch in his throat before he swallows thickly.

“Kookie,” he coos, leaning down to hover awkwardly over him with his weight braced on one arm,
and somehow he still manages to cup Jungkook’s face in his hand. “Baby, deep breaths. Does it
hurt a lot? Fuck, I knew we should’ve prepped for longer, I’m sorry.”

“Sh-shut up,” Jungkook does not squeak out. “Just—gimme a sec.”

Taehyung presses long, adoring kisses over his cheeks, humming against his skin. “Why do you
always have to be so hot-headed, huh?”

“Shut up, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

Taehyung grows sober. “Is it bad? I can pull out, we can prep some more. Or we can stop and just
make out, that’d be fun too.” A drop of his sweat lands on Jungkook’s forehead, making him
flinch, grossed out but also weirdly turned on because Taehyung’s so worked up from barely
getting his cockhead inside Jungkook that he’s dripping sweat. It’s so fucking hot.

“No, we’re not stopping,” Jungkook mutters vengefully. “Just—talk about other things for now.”

A shaky breath hisses out of Taehyung and when he grins, it’s all teeth. “I’ll try but you’re so tight,
I’m kinda losing it.”

Jungkook preens. “What’s it like being inside a v-virgin, hyung?” he gloats, a bit embarrassed
about his lack of action but the opportunity to tease is way too good to pass up.

“Oh my god Jeon Jungkookie shut the fuck up right now you’re gonna make me blow I swear.”

The pain slowly recedes as Taehyung pushes in inch by inch under his instruction. It never gets so
bad that Jungkook wants to quit, he’s waited way too long for this to happen and he isn’t about to
let a couple bumps in the road get in his way. Taehyung keeps petting him, his face, his hip, thumb
drawing senseless patterns over his skin. The minutes drag by, pain giving way to numbness and
Jungkook asking every minute, “What if you just shoved it all in, like ripping off a bandaid, you
know,” and Taehyung’s horrified, “No, no, no.”

When Taehyung finally, finally bottoms out, both of their bodies are slick with sweat, and they’re
panting from the exertion.

“We’re going slow?” Taehyung checks. Jungkook grunts an affirmative.

The first few thrusts hurt still, but as his body acclimates to the sensation of something going inside
of it, gradually it stops sending blaring panic signals up to his brain, and then it—there’s this
satisfaction that Jungkook thinks probably comes from the emotional side of having sex with
someone he loves,

He’s connected with Taehyung in the most intimate way possible. No one’s had Taehyung like this
before and no one ever will if Jungkook’s got anything to say about it, and that fact is so gratifying
he has to drag his boyfriend closer to him and wrap his legs around his waist, their mouths meeting
in sloppy, gaspy kisses.

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung groans, his voice like the Mariana trench. “Can—ah—can I go faster?”

“Mmm,” Jungkook sighs into his mouth.

With both of Taehyung’s big hands holding him by the waist, he picks up the pace, and now there’s
the sound of skin slapping against each other, the wet, rude noises of Taehyung’s cock pumping in
and out of Jungkook’s hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook bites into his bottom lip, his face screwing up. He’s trying so hard to be quiet.

“Did I—am I hitting it?” Taehyung pants. It takes Jungkook a second to understand what he’s
asking. He shakes his head, unsure how to guide Taehyung because he doesn’t know where it is
either. Taehyung cusses under his breath and starts angling his cock a little differently each time he
thrusts back in.

There’s an explosion in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach, not fingers this time, but Taehyung’s thick,
hard cock grazing over his swollen prostate. “Ahh!” He throws his head back. “There, Tae, there!”
he whines.

Taehyung tries again, then again, a third time, beginning to hit the place that makes Jungkook
quiver and spasm and want to whimper with increasing accuracy. “There?”

Jungkook’s head lolls. “Y-yeah...” One of his hands closes over the sheets, the other fisted and
pressed hard against his mouth, but he’s not sure how much it’s helping. He didn’t know sex felt
this good...no wonder people are obsessed with it. The schlick-schlick-schlick sounds of
Taehyung’s cock in his ass are obscene and shameful and so fucking delicious, almost as good as
the tiny moans Taehyung lets out every time Jungkook squeezes around him.

“You’re so good,” Taehyung breathes out, and Jungkook forces his eyes open to watch his
boyfriend lick his lips. They’re going fast now, hard enough that Jungkook’s body bounces a little
on the mattress with each slam of Taehyung’s hips. There’s an arm around the small of his back,
angling him as Taehyung’s other hand fondles from his waist up to his chest, touching him
greedily. “S-sorry, Kookie, I’m trying to be gentle, but I—mm—”

And Jungkook knows he’s held back for so long, he’s always holding back for Jungkook. It’s not
like him to have such good self control, Kim Taehyung with his outerspace thoughts and firework
impulses.

“S’okay,” Jungkook slurs, sliding his heavy arms up to Taehyung’s shoulders. He thinks he can
feel his cock all the way up in his stomach, hot and firm, carving a path inside him, dragging
against his walls. “Feels g-good.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung murmurs. He pulls back all of a sudden, sitting on his heels and yanking
Jungkook’s hips higher into his lap so that his back is half off the mattress, and Jungkook didn’t
think it was possible but it feels even better this way, Taehyung’s cock scraping across his prostate
every time he drives inside of him. Taehyung’s saying something, his mouth moving between
gritted-out gasps, but Jungkook can’t hear him over his own loud moans.

“Nnn?” he manages.

Taehyung laughs breathlessly. He leans down to press his lips against Jungkook’s ear, hips never
stopping, rolling smoothly into his, all those fucking body roll dance classes paying off, fuck,
Jungkook needs to—needs to thank someone for those.

“I asked if that feels good, baby,” Taehyung says, making a violent shiver run up Jungkook’s spine.
He wonders if Taehyung’s making his voice that deep on purpose because he knows how it makes
Jungkook feel, it’s not fair, why’s he so sexy, it’s so not fair. “You like the way my cock feels
inside you, Jungkook-ah?”

“Hyung,” he moans, half in pleasure, half in protest.

“You’re so pretty,” Taehyung keeps going like he can’t control himself, the words spilling out of
him, and when he withdraws from Jungkook’s ear to suck along his jaw instead, Jungkook sees
that his eyes sort of have this dazed, crazed quality to them, raking down his body like an apex
predator. “Got such sensitive nipples,” Taehyung mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself.
Jungkook cries out when he pinches one of them, his legs jerking, and Taehyung must like his
reaction so much that he does it again.

Jungkook clenches his jaw through the delicious torture. He’s starting to forget why he needs to
keep quiet, he’s starting to not care anymore. Taehyung’s sweat drips steadily down his hairline,
some of it landing on Jungkook’s abs.

Later, when Jungkook can hear his own mind again, he’ll marvel at how long Taehyung can fuck
for when the guy refuses to so much as lift a dumbbell without being bribed, but a part of Jungkook
thinks that some people are just born with this—the deep-rooted instinct to fuck, and enough
hunger that their bodies override basic limits like fatigue. Taehyung’s always pushed his ‘brotherly’
boundaries when it came to Jungkook, piercing him with smouldering looks, touching him, kissing
him, ever since they were young. And now that Jungkook’s letting himself believe in the actions
themselves instead of the excuses (practice for ARMYs; fanservice even though there aren’t any
fans nearby), he thinks he’s beginning to understand the depth of Taehyung’s desire for him.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back. The tendons in his neck flex as he
swallows. “I—I’m losing my mind. I think—I think I’m gonna come—”

“You can c-come,” Jungkook chokes out. He feels like a ragdoll spread over the bed, he thinks
there might be drool in the corner of his mouth. His hole feels ruined, stretched wide to
accommodate Taehyung’s thickness, and he’s surprised by how much he loves it. He kind of wants
something in his mouth to suck on, the way his hole is sucking on Taehyung’s cock, but he also
wants to leave his mouth open for the tongue that licks past his teeth, fills up his mouth whenever
Jungkook starts moaning too loud.
He’s been two seconds away from coming for so long already, his prostate near oversensitive, he’s
just been biting it back by the skin of his teeth because he doesn’t want this to end yet. But if
Taehyung wants to come, Jungkook will come with him—his boyfriend’s been so patient and
generous.

Yet, their telepathy must be working even now because Taehyung echoes his thoughts. “D-don’t
wanna stop yet,” he hisses, a pout in his voice, and Jungkook would laugh if this adorable boy
wasn’t fucking his brains out. Taehyung bends to stick his tongue down Jungkook’s throat again,
but he pulls back after only an unsatisfying brush of lips.

“You’re too far, I can’t k-kiss you properly like this,” he complains. Jungkook lets out a loud whine
when he slows down, but Taehyung ignores him, pulling at his shoulders. “C’mon, help me out
here, muscle bunny.”

Jungkook blinks up at him through damp eyes, weakly propping up his heavy body and letting
Taehyung tug him into his lap. Jungkook’s legs feel like jelly, but he hasn’t been working out for
years to lie there like a dead fish and make Taehyung do all the work. He wraps his arms around
Taehyung’s shoulders and sinks down on the full length of his cock.

A guttural groan claws out of Jungkook’s chest. Taehyung’s deep, so deep inside him, so fucking
good. He coughs a little from the way his insides are getting rearranged.

“God, you’re sexy,” Taehyung hisses, bracing his back against the wall before he starts snapping
his hips up. Jungkook’s toes curl, his mouth falling open, and he bounces himself on Taehyung’s
cock, ass slapping against Taehyung’s thighs. Taehyung hugs him close, licks and nips his way
down Jungkook’s neck, down his chest. Then his lips curl around his nipple and suck.

“Oh god!” Jungkook sobs. “Taehyungie!”

His dick is so hard, lying swollen against Taehyung’s soft tummy, dripping everywhere, and
Taehyung’s mouth is all over his chest, sucking marks into the skin and biting hard enough to
sting, like he’s really trying to eat Jungkook up.

“Taste so good, Jungkookie,” Taehyung pants, laving over the swells of Jungkook’s muscles. “Got
such nice pecs, baby, perfect for my teeth, huh?”

Jungkook moans obscenely. They’re both running out of energy but he bounces harder, determined
to ride his boyfriend for as long as he can before he collapses. He can feel the ridges and the veins
of Taehyung’s cock rubbing against his insides, shaping his walls as Jungkook lifts and drops
himself back down.

Taehyung’s hands are everywhere, groping his shoulders, digging into his waist, then pulling his
cheeks apart and using his ass as leverage to slam into him. He bites circles around Jungkook’s
nipples, tongue rolling around and over the buds, teasing them mercilessly, and Jungkook wants to
scream.

“Gonna come, Jungkookie?” Taehyung huffs out, releasing his marked chest to kiss his way up to
Jungkook’s mouth again. “Gonna burst soon? Fit me like a glove, o-oh my god.”

Jungkook chokes, writhing on Taehyung’s cock as his boyfriend shoves their lips together,
plundering his mouth, tangling their tongues. He can’t hold it back anymore. He’ll die if he does,
he can’t anymore, he can’t.

As if he can sense Jungkook nearing the end of his rope, Taehyung’s hand suddenly curls around
his dick, and he lets out his highest, loudest whine yet.

“Taehyungie,” he cries, “gonna c-come, ‘m gonna come, ah, fuck, fuck—”

He starts trembling, desperate to both cling on for a little while longer and throw himself head-first
off the edge. Taehyung nudges him backwards until he’s lying down again before he starts
pounding Jungkook into the mattress, and Jungkook almost starts screaming, he would have if they
weren’t home with five other people. The air fills with their ragged breaths and the smacks of skin
on skin, Jungkook’s helpless little uh-uh-uhs and Taehyung’s desperate moans.

Taehyung’s big hand envelops his length, strokes him fast and hard to the beat of his cock driving
into Jungkook, and it’s with a final twist of that hand around his tip, a thumb digging into his slit,
that makes Jungkook lose it.

His eyes roll back in his head, lips parting in a shrill cry that Taehyung quickly silences with his
mouth. His legs tremble on the bed, fallen wide open, twitching from the waves of pleasure that
crash over him again and again. He squeezes so tightly around Taehyung’s cock that he can taste
him in his throat and for one fleeting moment, Jungkook wishes Taehyung could come inside him,
wishes he could feel him twitch and spurt in his ravaged hole.

Taehyung tugs the last drops of his orgasm out of him, squeezing his cock until he whimpers and
shifts away.

For an interminable amount of time, Jungkook tries to blink the spots out of his vision, waiting for
his legs to stop shaking and feeling to return to his limbs.

He licks his lips, clears his hoarse throat a couple times. Only now does he realize that Taehyung’s
still hard inside of him.

“W-why didn’t you come?” he asks, wincing when Taehyung slowly pulls out.

“Was busy making you feel good.” The way Taehyung says it makes it sound more like “was
nervous about making you feel good,” and “didn’t want to disappoint you,” along with the bashful
edge of “you deserve the best,” and Jungkook doesn’t even know what to say. He loves Taehyung
so much. He never expected their first time to be perfect, he only knew Taehyung would take care
of him no matter what hiccups they came across, but what they had just now completely exceeded
his expectations.

Maybe Boyfriend Taehyung is even more considerate and selfless than Big Brother Taehyung.
Jungkook has a lot to learn from him.

“Want me to suck you off?” he asks, already making to sit up, but Taehyung quickly shakes his
head.

“I’ll probably come as soon as I touch it,” he says sheepishly, gesturing down at his dick like it’s
an alien.

Pleasure curls in Jungkook’s gut. He spreads his legs wider, shy but too high on endorphins to care.
He knows he makes a picture right now with his swollen lips, nipples, and hole, come streaked
over his chest and stomach, the white of it stark over his full-body blush.

“Wanna come on me?” he mumbles.

Taehyung covers his face with both hands, sighing harshly into them, and Jungkook watches in
fascination as his cock jerks. Taehyung peeks at him through his fingers, gauging his seriousness,
so Jungkook raises a single eyebrow in wait.

“You—I’m actually gonna do it,” Taehyung threatens.

“Yeah.”

In a flash, Taehyung tears the condom off, flings it somewhere on the floor much to Jungkook’s
disgust (he’s so gonna complain about it later), but for now, his mouth goes dry at the sight of
Taehyung’s naked, engorged cock. Taehyung stares down at Jungkook as he strokes over his
length, eyes roving greedily over the younger’s body. Feeling a bit intimidated and sensing the
same nervousness reflected in Taehyung’s slightly stiff expression, Jungkook reaches out, taking
his free hand in his.

Taehyung relaxes, his face softening. But his stare is still that of an animal’s while he continues to
devour Jungkook with his eyes, getting himself off on him, and Jungkook’s having a hard time
coming down from his high when he’s being watched like this, making him overly conscious of
how debauched he looks. Taehyung obviously likes it, his tongue peeks out between his teeth and
the muscles in his forearm strain, his bracelets jingling quietly against each other.

Jungkook drinks in the sight of his strained body. He sort of, really wants to take Taehyung’s cock
into his mouth, but true to his word, it only takes a few seconds before Taehyung’s face is twisting,
a moan escaping him as he comes over Jungkook’s thighs and ass.

If he wasn’t so fucked out, Jungkook probably could’ve gotten hard just from watching that. He’s
totally going to be jacking off to Taehyung’s o-face forever.

“So where’d you learn how to talk like that?”

Taehyung flinches. It’s impossible to hide with every possible inch of Jungkook’s body pressed
against his.

“I mean,” Taehyung drawls against Jungkook’s collarbone, “you’re so cute, the words just come
naturally!” It’s obviously fake bravado, as is the follow-up question, said in a teasing manner,
“Why, you didn’t like it?”

“Oh, shut it,” Jungkook sighs into Taehyung’s freshly shampooed hair. “You know I didn’t not like
anything we did.”

Taehyung goes lax against him. He lets out a snort, the puff of air ticklish on Jungkook’s bare
neck. “That was, like, the most roundabout way of saying ‘I loved everything, hyung,’ ever. Why
are you such a tsundere?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Jungkook mutters.

“’Scuse me?”

“You’re the one always biting me and calling me cute.”

“I mean...am I wrong? Naega mwo teullin malhaesseo,” Taehyung breaks into song, wiggling and
bobbing his head, and Jungkook is so speechless that he can only sigh loudly, hiding his smile.

“Whatever. It’s my turn to fuck you six ways to Sunday next time. You’d better prepare yourself,
hyung.”
 Taehyung snickers, his shoulders shaking in Jungkook’s arms. “Yeah, okay, give it your best shot,
maknae.” Jungkook swats his ass. It’s a very nice ass, remarkably thick and bubbly for someone so
slender.

Jungkook slaps it again, because he’s allowed to. It earns him a grumble as Taehyung snuffles,
squirming to reach max comfort, nuzzling into his neck. Jungkook breathes out deeply. The lights
are off, the sheets have been changed, the condom cleaned up (after Jungkook scolded Taehyung
like a proper mom), and he’ll have a whole day to cuddle with his wonderful man tomorrow, catch
up on some anime or movies or whatever and stuff themselves with snacks. Spend time together,
laugh at stupid shit together.

Happiness blooms in his heart, warm warm warm. He holds Taehyung as close as he can without
giving away how whipped he is, pressing a kiss to his head. He wants to tell him he loves him, the
feeling building and building in his chest. But Taehyung hasn’t said it yet, so Jungkook won’t.

It’s fine. He can be patient.

Chapter End Notes

i'm sorry this chapter took forever! thank u as always for ur support, i can't express
how much i appreciate it. <33

edit: I MADE A TWITTERRR HERE'S THE LINK: @afuzzyowl

ill be posting drabbles and other works that i wont post here, the first one will be
coming soon!! :DDD plz feel free to spam me if u ever have comments or questions
about updates and stuff, i love interacting with u guys

and i made a curiouscat for u shy ones, u can msg me on anon or not!! curiouscat i'd
love to chat!!
 Chapter 20
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jimin eyes them in exaggerated disgust, Taehyung snuggled up against Jungkook’s side, head
resting in the crook of his neck, and Jungkook with his entire body leaned against him. They’re
watching meme videos on Taehyung’s phone that Jimin proclaimed too lame for him to partake in,
so he’s sitting by himself all the way on the other couch. Jungkook doesn’t really care, more room
for him to cuddle Taehyung, ha.

Taehyung procures a bag of chips from between the cushions of the couch, earning a noise of
shock and offense from Jimin. The sound of the plastic injects hunger in Jungkook’s stomach like a
Pavlovian reaction. Taehyung grabs a piece and his hand’s halfway to his mouth when he changes
his mind for no apparent reason, his hand beelining for Jungkook instead.

Jungkook sniffs at it, deems it tasty-smelling, and takes the chip into his mouth with a happy
crunch.

“Why are you guys like this,” Jimin deadpans. They both ignore him. “You’ve been cuddled up in
that exact position for an hour, why do you have to be so cute and domestic and constantly remind
me how single I am?”

“Awww,” Taehyung says, and it sounds like an automated response towards the unhappy tone
from his friend, like he’s a robot responding accordingly to human emotion. “Fighting,” he tacks
on distractedly. Jungkook snorts.

“What is this couple privilege?” Jimin huffs, crossing his arms and sliding down the sofa. “I
wanna cuddle with my crush too.”

At that, Jungkook and Taehyung drop the phone.

“What crush,” Taehyung demands, decidedly no longer a robot.

“Who?” Jungkook flails. “Is it someone we know?”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“We’ll weed out the bad ones for you, Jimin-ssi.”

“Tell usss.”

“You two are such menaces together,” Jimin groans. He sticks his feet in the air, stretching his legs
out like a ballerina. “It’s been a few months...”

“A few months?” Taehyung screeches, untangling himself from Jungkook. “And you didn’t say
anything!”

“I thought we were bros!” Jungkook shouts, except it’s a sad shout with pouty lips that has both the
hyungs cooing at him.

“It’s not like you told me about your crush, Jungkook,” Jimin points out.

“I was fifteen, hyung! I didn’t even know I liked boys, how was I supposed to tell you about my
crush?!”

“Wait, fifteen?” Taehyung squawks. “Hold on, was the crush on me? Jungkook-ah, you—you were
fif—”

“Anyway,” Jungkook says loudly, flinging a cushion in Taehyung’s direction without looking and
turning a blind eye on Jimin’s leering. “Who’s the crush? Guy? Girl? Idol? Deets, hyung.”

Jimin opens his mouth, presumably to either tell them to shut up or give in and actually provide
said deets, when Taehyung’s phone suddenly starts blaring his alarm tone. He gasps, scrambling to
his feet.

“Shit! I’m gonna be late, gotta go!” He dashes off towards his room and then there’s the sound of
drawers opening and closing, clothes flying.

Jungkook feels his face fall. “Where are you going?” he calls over, but Taehyung doesn’t answer,
probably doesn’t hear him. They only have a few days of break before the inevitable chaos of year-
end shows, and Jungkook was planning on spending all of today hanging out with Taehyung,
gaming, listening to good music, making out with Taehyung, maybe penning some lyrics, cuddling
with Taehyung. And now those plans are ruined.

His boyfriend comes flying back into the living room, dressed impressively classy for the few
seconds it took him in a loose dress shirt, jeans, beret—knowing him, he probably planned out the
outfit beforehand—along with a black mask tucked under his chin.

“Hanging with the Wooga squad,” Taehyung breathes out, “and I think some other people will be
there too. If Jiwon-noona shows up I’ll prob grab dinner with her, so just eat without me.”

Something twists in Jungkook’s stomach. “You didn’t tell me you’d be going out,” he says quietly,
and he thinks, he believes that Taehyung would have heard the hurt that he wasn’t able to mask, if
the elder wasn’t so worried about being late for his hyungs.

“Sorry, it slipped my mind, we kinda planned this last minute,” Taehyung says to his phone,
distracted by a stream of messages. After hurriedly typing a reply to them, he stuffs the phone into
his coat pocket and glares at Jimin, stabbing a finger at him. “We’re continuing this when I get
back, Jimin-ah.”

“Whatever, just go already.” Jimin waves him off.

“Yeah, yeah, bye.” Taehyung shoots Jungkook a smile. “See ya tonight.”

Jungkook grunts and picks up his own phone, pretending that he too has a billion texts to reply to,
because he also has friends, thank you very much.

As soon as the front door closes, he throws the thing aside and curls up on his side, scowling at the
dark TV. Jimin flops down beside him, limbs sprawling over him.

“Can you sulk any harder?” he snickers. “Your love will be back in a few hours.”

“Not my love,” Jungkook mutters.

“Uh huh.”

He stews in his frustration until it piles up high enough that he explodes. “Why does—why’s he
gotta be such a social butterfly anyway? W-what do you even need that many friends for, we barely
have time for ourselves but every time we have a free day he’s out there gallivanting with his
hyungs,” he kicks the air, “and noonas.”

“Yeah, how dare he.”

It’s rare for Jimin to agree with him so easily on anything, so Jungkook lifts his head. He gasps
when he finds Jimin’s phone camera turned on him. Immediately, he lunges, snatching the phone
out of his hands and viciously deleting the clip.

“Hey, that’s my phone, brat!” Jimin yells, swiping at him.

“You can’t record me without my permission, that’s illegal!”

“Oh my god, why are you such a smartass!”

Jungkook tosses the device back to him, then goes back to being a ball. It’s just a comfortable
position to be in, okay? He is not sulking about being abandoned by Taehyung. Nope, not him,
why would he do that, it’s not like he already picked out stuff for them to watch together or
anything, naw.

“So,” he says flatly. “Crush.”

His interest has diminished a little in light of Taehyung’s betrayal, but Jimin’s still one of his best
bros, and even if Jungkook isn’t good with this whole talking-about-feelings thing, he’s been
working on becoming a better listener.

Most importantly, he needs to suss out this crush, he’s heard way too much shady shit from his
gossip sessions with the 97ers.

Jimin adamantly refuses to give any hints on gender or profession or other things relating to who
they might be, but he gushes about the fluttery way they make him feel and also how much he
wants to punch anyone who gets too close to them.

Jungkook can totally relate.

They spend hours on the couches, moving on from the topic of Jimin’s crush once they get tired of
that to chat about future schedules, dance breaks they’ve been learning, good movies they’ve
watched recently. The other members filter in and out of the living room, asking them what they’re
up to and telling them not to stay up too late, and they only remember to get up to eat something
when the smell of whatever delicious food Seokjin’s cooking in the kitchen floats over to them.

“’m tired,” Jimin says somewhere near eleven-thirty after their super late dinner. Jungkook
murmurs an agreement, trying not to wonder what Taehyung’s doing out so late. “Gonna go
shower.”

“I call dibs after you.”

They stumble over to the bathroom. The door opens at just the right time for Hoseok to walk out
with damp, messy hair and a tiny towel around his waist.

“Oh, yeeeaaaaahhhhhhh,” Jungkook catcalls, looking him up and down and elbowing Jimin
exaggeratedly, who joins in with a pervy, “Ooohh, hyyyungg~”

“Shut up, you idiots.” Hoseok shoves them half-heartedly, his glare too weak to hold in his giggles.
“G’night.”
“Night, hyung.”

They each pat one of his ass cheeks when he walks by, tittering at his growl.

Jungkook follows Jimin into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, the latter beginning
to pull his clothes off as he tests the temperature of the water.

“Oh, Jimin-ssi!” he yells through a mouthful of foam. He’s reached that point where he’s so sleepy
he’s sort of gone insane. “Jibooty lookin’ alive!”

Jimin glowers at him over his shoulder, wiggling his hips.

“Oohh, I want you,” Jungkook croons, making grabby hands. “I want youuuu.” Jimin lets out a
peal of giggles and swats at him.

“Stop, you creep!” he shouts, escaping into the shower and yanking the curtain closed. Jungkook
cackles loudly at him but decides to show him some mercy and leave him alone for now. He
doesn’t want to be that close to Jimin’s naked body anyway.

The apartment’s quiet and Jungkook’s laid out on the couch again, this time with most of the lights
off and only his phone to keep his company, when Taehyung returns at last. Jungkook squints over
at the door, readying the somewhat-eager-to-see-him-but-also-low-key-passive-aggressive
comments he’s been preparing in his head.

“Hey,” Taehyung mumbles, dragging his feet into the room before collapsing on the unoccupied
couch. Jungkook sits up, his earlier plan flying out the window.

“Tae?”

A grunt.

“You okay?”

Another grunt.

Jungkook scowls, not liking that Taehyung threw himself on the other couch instead of on top of
him. So he gets up and plops himself down beside his boyfriend, stroking a hand down his back.

“D’you fight with your friends? Did they bully you?” Jungkook teases, and by Taehyung’s
answering snort, he must remember that he used those same words on Jungkook months ago.

“Nah. Just.” Taehyung sighs. Jungkook’s hand trails up his back, combing through his hair. He
grins when Taehyung pushes back against the touch with a sound of contentment. “Hyungsik-
hyung and his girlfriend broke up, so he was really, really down today.”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels a little bad about his relief that the melancholy isn’t anything to do with
Taehyung specifically. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. Sucked to see him like that too. He broke down crying after a few drinks.”

Jungkook’s heart aches. “Aw, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh...what was the reason? For the break-up?”

Taehyung sighs again, grabbing Jungkook by the arm, who lets himself get pulled into lying down
face-to-face with his boyfriend, Taehyung’s leg thrown over his and arm over his waist. There’s
just enough room between them to look at each other without going cross-eyed.

“Her family didn’t approve and they don’t get to see each other much ‘cause they’re both busy.”

“Ah...that’s unfortunate.”

It’s a struggle for Jungkook to come up with comforting words. He’s not good at this kind of stuff,
but Taehyung still looks sad and he hates it, so he does the next best thing he can think of.

“What was that for?” Taehyung murmurs after their lips part. Jungkook kisses him again, gentle as
the touch of a marshmallow, or that’s what Taehyung’s lips feel like anyway, warm and plush.

Arms loop around his neck and Taehyung pulls him into a firmer but just as soft kiss. Jungkook
loves having him like this, loves even more the way Taehyung kisses back like he’s slowly
savouring the affection, basking in it. How when he’s feeling upset or vulnerable, he melts under
Jungkook’s hands, and when he’s sleepy or doesn’t have the energy to reciprocate properly, he’ll
still let his lips fall open, pliant for Jungkook to kiss as he wants, his eyes like pools of melted wax
when they pull apart.

Jungkook hugs Taehyung to his body, enveloping him, wanting to protect him as their mouths
press together with soft sounds. Then he kisses Taehyung’s cheeks, his cute nose mole, each of his
eyelids, like in every sappy romance movie he’s ever seen.

It’s totally worth it because Taehyung giggles, tilting his chin up for more face pecks.
“Jungkookie,” he whispers.

“Hmm?”

“Sleep with me tonight.”

Jungkook’s lips freeze over the corner of Taehyung’s mouth. “Are you, like, talking about
sleeping-sleeping, or...?”

Taehyung’s body shakes with laughter. “Whatever you want,” he says lightly, a sparkle in his eye.
“But the cuddling part is non-negotiable.”

Something thickens in Jungkook’s throat, his heart picking up pace. He’s had sex with Taehyung
several times now and they’ve all been amazing, though he’s never explicitly acknowledged that in
so many words. Of course Taehyung knows, what else could Jungkook moaning and writhing and
whining about how he’s gonna come after two minutes mean anyway.

He’s bottomed every time so far since he knows how it goes and what it feels like and they’ve been
too short on time lately to try new things. Not to mention how hot Taehyung is when he whispers
filthy things into Jungkook’s ear while pounding into him, then how cute he is when he showers
Jungkook with enough sweetness to make up for the carnality ten times over as soon as they’re
done.

“I have no idea where all that shit comes from,” Taehyung confessed one time when they were
snuggled up against each other after another mind-blowing session. “Like, honestly I never thought
I’d have such a dirty mouth and I don’t even know where I learned it from, but it’s like I can’t stop
myself.”

Jungkook told him not to stop himself. Because he’s a caring, supportive boyfriend who indulges
in Taehyung’s kinks. Not because he loves it and the dirtiness makes his dick wet or anything.

“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook says haltingly now, staring at Taehyung’s cupid’s bow. Such a pretty
curve to it. Everything about him is pretty, handsome, gorgeous. And today, he looks so soft in that
oversized dress shirt of his, the beret lopsided on his head, his loose pants hiding the beautiful
shape of his legs. “Do you...um...I wanna—can I. Can I try topping tonight?”

Taehyung’s head pops up. He gapes down at Jungkook. It’s hard to tell in the half-light, but
Jungkook thinks there might be a blush spreading over his cheeks and nose.

They blink at each other a few times before Taehyung’s face falls into a smirk and he presses all up
into Jungkook’s space. “You wanna fuck hyung, baby?” he drawls, breath warm against
Jungkook’s cheek. Jungkook tries not to look like a deer in headlights.

“Not a baby,” he manages not to stutter. “I can take care of you too.”

Taehyung’s face softens. He brings up a hand to caress Jungkook’s ear, rubbing over his hoop-
filled ear lobes. “Why were you scared to ask?” he says quietly. “I’m not the boss of us.”

Jungkook scoffs loudly. “I know that. And I wasn’t scared, it’s just embarrassing talking about this
stuff.”

“Uh huh, okay.” Taehyung holds up his index finger and thumb in a V and Jungkook glares
balefully at him, already knowing what he’s up to. “Do some aegyo and I’ll let you,” Taehyung
chortles, motioning for Jungkook to put his chin on his fingers. “C’mon, show hyung some o’ that
cuteness.”

With a fierce growl, Jungkook grabs Taehyung under his thighs, throws him over his shoulder, and
marches off towards the elder’s room. It would’ve been more of a struggle with Taehyung being
the non-negligible size that he is, but he’s more than cooperative, clinging on to Jungkook after his
initial squeak of surprise.

“Ah, my hat,” Taehyung says sadly, and Jungkook glances back to find it flopped on the couch.

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” he promises. Taehyung makes a sound of acknowledgment.

“Nice view,” he leers, slapping Jungkook’s ass with both hands like they’re drums, which is really
quite dumb of him because his own ass is right beside Jungkook’s head, perfectly positioned to get
a nice, big smack of its own. And Jungkook does, smirking at his yelp.

Taehyung’s room is empty—Hoseok’s visiting his sister and staying with her for the night, and
Jimin slinked into someone else’s room earlier with a saucy grin, telling Jungkook to “enjoy
yourself later”—so no one’s there to witness Taehyung’s plight as Jungkook dumps him on his bed
and locks the door behind them.

“Ooohhh, kinky,” Taehyung sings, waggling his eyebrows. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time,
crawling on top of him and immediately latching his lips on to the sexy neck in front of him.
Taehyung’s laugh at his eagerness turns into a moan when Jungkook’s hands start roaming, feeling
up his ribs, along his sides. Then Jungkook unbuttons his shirt to kiss his way down his chest.

Taehyung’s really just so unbearably attractive everywhere, inside and out, but Jungkook has a
special passion for his collarbones. He doesn’t know what it is about them but they’re just so hot,
sharp and defined, and Jungkook wants more than anything to leave some nice purple bruises on
them. He settles for temporary pink marks instead, blooming all over Taehyung’s chest, his chest
that is just as pretty as his collarbones.
There’s a reason he hates when Taehyung wears tops with wide collars in front of other people—
Jungkook’s a possessive bastard and he doesn’t want anyone else seeing what’s his. His selfishness
knows no bounds when it comes to Taehyung.

His own clothes are tugged off of him by equally eager hands, and soon they’re both naked,
making out messily as Jungkook slides one, then two slicked-up fingers into Taehyung. He goes at
a sloth pace, slower even than Taehyung did for Jungkook’s first time. Jungkook wants to take care
of him, hopes his love might cancel out some of Taehyung’s sadness from today. He wants to
treasure him the way he deserves, so he’s not about to rush a single thing.

“Okay?” he whispers against Taehyung’s lips, forehead leaned against his. The desk lamp they
scrambled to turn on is weak but provides enough light for him to make out every detail of
Taehyung’s strained expression. His lips are shiny and swollen, eyes scrunched closed

“Yeah, but—go slow,” Taehyung breathes out.

“D-does it hurt?”

“No...feels a little weird.”

“Tell me if it hurts, okay? Tae?”

“Mm-hmm...” Taehyung’s arms tighten around Jungkook’s shoulders, dragging him lower. “Kiss
me, Jungkookie.”

So demanding, is the immediate quip that pops into Jungkook’s mind, but he doesn’t have the
motivation to voice it before he’s molding his lips to Taehyung’s again. A whimpery sound
escapes from Taehyung’s mouth into his as Jungkook begins alternating between scissoring him
cautiously and prodding around for his prostate. He knows he’s found it when Taehyung’s spine
goes rigid, his lips tearing away from Jungkook’s in a hushed gasp.

“So pretty,” Jungkook mumbles into his ear, then kisses down Taehyung’s jaw as he continues to
rub over the little bump inside him. “Hyung-ah, so handsome.”

Taehyung huffs out a shaky breath, his eyes hooding. “Gimme another finger.”

The third finger takes long minutes to fit comfortably, but before Jungkook knows it, Taehyung’s
head is pressed back against the pillow, his mouth open in silent moans. The shadows under his
sharp chin and along his neck, moving with his bobbing adam’s apple, are some of the most
enticing things Jungkook’s ever seen. The hollows of his cheeks too, the flicker of his stubbornly
straight eyelashes. Jungkook could cry at the flawless line of his nose.

“Taehyungie,” he whispers against the taut skin of Taehyung’s neck, feeling him swallow against
his lips. His hand is sore from the thorough fingering, almost as sore as his untouched dick, but
he’s enjoying himself too much to stop.

His other hand strokes over Taehyung’s belly and his thighs, one of them hooked over Jungkook’s
shoulder, the soft flesh already bruising from his kisses. God, he loves it, feels such a bone-deep
sense of satisfaction from marking his boyfriend and making him moan.

“Fuck me,” Taehyung whines. “C’mon, Jungkook-ah.”

He gives him what he wants, bringing both of those long legs around his waist, bracing one arm
around his head, the other holding his own cock, and Jungkook sinks into the warmth. After
waiting enough for Taehyung to say he’s adjusted, he starts rocking his hips bit by bit, precise and
controlled despite his mounting desperation. He’s never felt anything like this, the heat, the
tightness. He’s half out of his mind with pleasure.

“Taehyung,” he grits out, crashing their lips together. Taehyung pants against him, puffs of breath
that Jungkook is determined to turn into noises the elder can’t hold back. When he finally finds that
little spot, Taehyung’s breathless moans of “Jungkook” in his pretty, husky voice have him close to
coming in a humiliatingly short time.

Dimly, he realizes that Taehyung’s legs are barely hanging on to his body, loosely curled around
him only from the force of Jungkook’s arm around the small of his waist, holding him up.

“Hyung,” he huffs. “G-gonna flip you over.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before pulling out and coaxing Taehyung on to his stomach. Taehyung
lifts himself on his arms and knees, a single glazed, dark eye boring into Jungkook over his
shoulder. His arms give out on him as soon as Jungkook thrusts back in, his back arching, and
Jungkook groans like he’s wounded.

“Tae, so beautiful,” he hisses, driving his hips into his beloved boyfriend. Taehyung’s ass is as
fucking gorgeous as the rest of him, perfectly round and plump. Jungkook sucks a path of marks
down his back, licking at the knobs of his spine.

Taehyung’s grunts are getting louder, more frenzied, his body boneless in Jungkook’s grip. “Fuck,”
he groans out. “I—‘m gonna come, Jungkookie, ah, yeah, keep hitting there—”

As his moans climb in pitch, one of his hands flops to the side, palm up, and Jungkook grabs it
immediately, squeezing their fingers together. He knows from experience how scary it is to let
himself be so vulnerable, to feel lost in the pleasure of something that seems taboo, of literally
letting another person inside his body. Taehyung keeps his face pressed into the pillow, muffling
his moans into it, but occasionally he glances back at Jungkook, clutching his hand as if in search
of reassurance.

Jungkook holds on to him tight, channeling his love through his hand. Later, he only lets go of it to
slip under Taehyung and grab his cock, and to compensate for leaving Taehyung’s hand empty, he
presses the entire front of his body against Taehyung’s back so that it’s physically impossible to
feel apart from each other.

“I’ve got you,” Jungkook slurs, stroking indulgently, lips pressed right up against Taehyung’s ear.
“Come, hyung, you can come.”

The airy, helpless moan that drags out of Taehyung’s chest as he comes makes Jungkook lose all
restraint. His rhythm grows erratic and it only takes a couple more thrusts before his vision goes
white too.

“I love you,” he mouths silently against the nape of Taehyung’s neck as his hips jerk, Taehyung’s
walls wrapped so tightly around his cock that he can’t help but shake.

They both regain their minds slowly, draped over each other with sweat sticking their skin together,
chests heaving. Jungkook badly wants to get up to wash his hand and tear off the condom, but he’s
so tired all of a sudden. He accidentally dozes for a bit, crushing Taehyung underneath his body.

After catching his breath, the first thing that Taehyung says, garbled into the mattress, is, “Not bad,
baby.”

Jungkook barks out a laugh. “You came in, like, two seconds, hyung, don’t ‘not bad’ me.”
“Mmm,” is Taehyung’s response, unbothered to answer properly.

They’ll need to clean up soon, but for now, Jungkook talks himself into ignoring the mess and curls
around Taehyung’s warm, familiar back, resting his chin against his shoulder.

“Feel better now?” he asks, wants to make sure that Taehyung doesn’t go to sleep still sad from his
hyung’s misery. Taehyung turns to him, his smile small but his eyes soft.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook pecks his bicep triumphantly. Taehyung laughs and puckers his lips.

“Would feel even better if you kissed here,” he hints.

If it were any other day and Taehyung was being his normal cheerful self, Jungkook wouldn’t have
given into the bait. Definitely not. Because he doesn’t live to kiss Taehyung or anything.

The pre-recording for the show has been delayed by an hour, so the seven of them are hanging out
in the waiting room, taking the opportunity to nap or do whatever else they want. There’s no staff,
no cameras. It’s quiet except for the muted conversation between Namjoon and Hoseok over by the
corner, and the chill music Jungkook’s playing on his Bluetooth speaker. He got tired of scrolling
through memes ages ago and now he’s just bored.

Taehyung’s next to him on the sofa, his full attention on his phone. Jungkook poked him a couple
times earlier but didn’t get more than a hum. Jungkook’s not sulking about it, really. It’s just, he
doesn’t like being stuck to his own phone so he gets runs out of things to do easily, that’s all.

Now that he thinks about it though, he’s started noticing a pattern, ever since they began dating.
Whenever they’re in public, Taehyung tends to be the clingier one. He’s always been a my-way
sort of guy, not minding what other people think, and even if he is more careful about his
touchiness in front of cameras, his version of toned-down is still—a lot. When they’re in public,
it’s often for an interview, which are usually cycles of the same questions over and over again and
Taehyung easily gets bored of stuff like that. It’s why he gravitates towards Jungkook, prodding at
him and clinging, because he has nowhere else to direct his attention. For Taehyung, Jungkook is
like, his fun, or his relief from boredom.

For Jungkook though, it’s the opposite. He tries to stay disciplined during interviews and in other
public settings because he’s afraid of how the media will portray his unthinking actions. After he’s
out of the public eye is when he finally relaxes, lets himself hang around Taehyung and touch him
as he wants. But that’s where the frustration comes in: once they’re left to their own devices,
Taehyung is no longer bored, he’s got games on his phone and two billion friends to message,
distracting him from Jungkook’s attention-seeking ways. Sure, he’ll give Jungkook what he wants
if Jungkook sulks or bugs him enough, but that in itself is an effort he doesn’t like going through.
He’s got his pride. Why should he have to pout his way into getting his boyfriend’s attention?
Taehyung’s always saying that Jungkook ignores him, but at the end of the day after whatever’s
occupying Jungkook’s one-track mind has passed, he’s the one looking for Taehyung.

He sighs quietly, picking at a shiny golden string on his stage outfit. Great, he wants to sock
himself in the face, because the doubts start crawling up when he lets himself think like this,
wondering if maybe Taehyung doesn’t like him as much as Jungkook likes him, after all. Probably,
in Taehyung’s mind, he loves Jungkook to death, but in reality, his feelings aren’t half of
Jungkook’s.
But no, it’s stupid to think about. If Jungkook starts now, he’ll never stop. Doubts are a black hole,
he knows that by now, and he also knows he’s making a big deal out of nothing. There’s nothing
wrong with getting caught up in messaging friends you never get to see because of your busy
schedule, Taehyung is totally free to do that and it shouldn’t bother Jungkook in the least.

(Yet, when he’s lying alone in bed with only Namjoon’s snores to keep him company, a voice will
whisper in his head: what if? What if?)

Forty minutes left before it’s their turn, and with most of the members dead asleep, Jungkook
decides he should follow their example too. He’s never opposed to getting a bit more of that shut-
eye.

But for some reason, sleep isn’t coming to him, so he’s relieved when someone suddenly cuddles
up to his side, in the empty space that isn’t occupied by Taehyung who was still holding a staring
contest with his phone last he checked.

“Not sleeping?” Jungkook asks, eyes closed but knowing who it is.

“Nah, I’m too hyped up.” Jimin grumbles.

“That’s what you get for listening to Suga-hyung’s pep talk before a show. Then he immediately
abandons you to pass out.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Jungkook lowers his voice, leaning into Jimin. “How’s your crush?”

“Wh—don’t bring that up here?”

“Why not?” His eyes snap open and he leers at Jimin. “Are you keeping it a secret from the
hyungs?”

“They’ll all find out eventually, just let me have my peace for now,” Jimin grumbles, fiddling with
one of his huge rings. “What’s Taehyungie doing?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Prob texting someone.”

“Ooh,” Jimin says, and it sounds way too sly to be anything but ominous, so Jungkook quickly cuts
in with, “Anyway, about that crush—” and yelps loudly when Jimin whips a cushion in his face.
“Hey!”

“You should be thanking me for coming here to entertain you, punk! Not! Tormenting! Me!” He
punctuates the words with more smacks. Jungkook cackles, wrestling the cushion from him
mercilessly.

“Wanna have a pillow battle?” he asks breathlessly, excited to have something to do.

“What? No. We’ll mess up our hair.”

Jungkook twists his face into his most obnoxious taunting expression, and Jimin immediately leaps
off the couch, getting into fighting stance.

“You’re on, bitch.”

A groan from the opposite side of the room has them both freezing up with wide eyes, but
Namjoon only smacks his lips a few times and goes back to sleep. Jimin and Jungkook stare wide-
 eyed at each other, giggling, before they fall back into their stances, stalking forward in silence this
time.

Chapter End Notes

I PROMISED I WOULDNT ABANDON THIS XDD sorry for the late update, hope u
enjoyed!
 Chapter 21
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Taehyung first notices that something seems off the day they do a photoshoot with this really cool
photographer who showers them with compliments. When Taehyung compliments him back just
because he likes to be nice, the members start making fun of him for falling in love too quickly.

The comment makes him a little nervous and he does his best not to look in Jungkook’s direction
because he’ll probably give something away, but luckily, Jungkook breaks the tension by laughing
at him too and teasingly rubbing Taehyung’s belly.

Everything’s fine for the rest of the shoot. But when they’re back in the dorms having dinner,
Jungkook zones out a lot, doesn’t fully listen to what Taehyung’s saying. He still responds happily
to Taehyung’s cuddle attempts though, and draws him into a heated kiss when they’re left alone for
the night, so Taehyung lets it go. He thinks Jungkook might just be having a spacey day, or maybe
he’s got something on his mind recently. He knows from experience not to push the maknae until
he’s ready to come out and say it himself.

But the day drags into a week, then multiple weeks, until Taehyung can’t brush it off anymore,
because it keeps on happening.

One day, he stumbles across Jimin in their kitchen still dressed in his work-out clothes. Taehyung
leans against the fridge, arms crossed over his chest, watching him make ramyeon for a bit and
wondering if he should bring it up.

Eventually, the worry overpowers his self-reassurances that whatever Jungkook’s going through
might only be a mood, soon to pass. They all have times like that, but it’s rare for their youngest
who doesn’t get upset without good reason, especially not for prolonged periods of time.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, licking his lips. “Do you know what’s going on with Jungkook?”

Immediately Jimin turns to him with a frown, the flavour pack in his hand suspended in the air,
only half dumped into the bubbling water. “What? What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, he’s fine,” Taehyung automatically assures, not wanting Jimin to fly into a panic and flip
to intense comfort mode. At this point, he feels like that would be counter-productive. “He’s just
acting a bit off. I tried asking him on the car ride back and again a while ago when we got home,
but he pretended he didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“He’s in his room now, right?”

“Yeah.”

Jimin returns to the soup, dumping in the rest of the pack and stirring the noodles. “What did he
do? To make you think he’s being weird.”

Taehyung fiddles with the zipper of his hoodie. That’s the thing though, Jungkook hasn’t really
been obvious enough for Taehyung to point at any single moment to prove his weirdness, but he
just knows, he can feel it. “I dunno, like, a gut feeling.”

“Hmm. Well, I haven’t really noticed anything. Maybe we should keep an eye on him for the next
while?”

“Yeah...okay, let’s do that.”

They peek into Jungkook’s room when the ramyeon’s done to ask if he wants any, but he’s already
asleep, mouth slightly open and face twisted in a grimace. The two of them exchange an alarmed
glance, and as Jimin heads to the dining table to set down their food, Taehyung tiptoes into the
room and crouches down next to Jungkook’s bed,

He lifts a hand, pressing a gentle finger between Jungkook’s eyebrows. The wrinkles don’t
disappear.

Taehyung doesn’t try to wake him now, knowing he’ll come scavenging for food if he gets hungry
enough. He leaves quietly, letting Jungkook catch some shut-eye.

“Is he okay?” Jimin asks when the rest of the members are gathered in the dining room. “Was he
having a nightmare or something?”

“No, he’s fine.”

Jimin continues to frown at him and Taehyung hears his unspoken words. It may seem stupid for
them to be so concerned over a grimace on a person who isn’t even conscious, but it’s the small
things that are telling. Jungkook’s sleeping face is usually the epitome of relaxation and bliss.

“What, is something the matter?” Hoseok asks. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Taehyung says quickly, not wanting to draw everyone’s attention to
Jungkook and have them unintentionally suffocate him with their concern. “Kookie’s sleeping, I
think we should leave him alone.”

“He passed out before dinner?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “That hunger monster?”

Taehyung laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, he didn’t sleep much on the plane, I think.”

“Leave him be,” Yoongi sighs. “He’ll come find food if he gets hungry.”

The thing about being so damn busy is that time flies. The first few weeks of the year are
comparably lax—as in, at least they’re in the country and have time to hang out with friends once
every couple of weeks between last-minute comeback preparations.

Taehyung ends up meeting with the Wooga squad whenever he gets the chance, because despite
the difficulties he went through filming his first drama, he misses the constant presence of having
those hyungs with him. They always make it easy for him to relax, and go out of their way to take
care of him. Not that the Bangtan hyungs don’t, of course, but it’s refreshing to see other people
sometimes. He’s even able to clear up a day to go to a Big Bang concert with Bogum.

Through January, then the first bit of February, he and Jungkook’s relationship settles somewhere
between still-new and gradually-getting-familiar. They’re comfortable, but there’s an odd, subtle
underlayer of hesitation or something, like how Jungkook won’t bat an eye at Taehyung scooting
up beside him to snuggle on the couch, but at some random point later, will freeze up for no
apparent reason before leaving with some excuse. And then later that night, he’ll be the one
crawling into Taehyung’s bed, hugging him tight, wordlessly asking for affection.

Taehyung doesn’t really get it, but the strange moments are far outweighed by the happy ones, so
he doesn’t even know how to bring it up. Sometimes, it slips his mind entirely.

On the day of his graduation, Jungkook seems especially weird. Taehyung makes Jimin come with
him to get flowers, hoping it’ll cheer Jungkook up. All throughout dinner, Taehyung sits next to
him, plopping food in his bowl, teasingly feeding him, and that seems to do the trick. And
Namjoon, intelligent as ever, leaves Jungkook’s room after they get back from dinner to give them
some space (even if his untactful, awkward delivery could’ve used some serious work), and
Taehyung treats Jungkook like an absolute prince that night.

Afterwards, Jungkook curls up against him, peppering kisses on his mouth, and Taehyung falls
asleep feeling fuzzy and warm. From that point on, Jungkook opens up a bit more and things seem
to be on the rise.

Until, all of a sudden, they’re not.

“So next Saturday, right? Sounds good.” On the other end of the line, Hyungsik gives him brief
instructions on how to get past the heavy security of his apartment complex, before laughing at
Taehyung’s confused silence and telling him he’ll text everyone the details instead. “Okay,
hyung,” Taehyung chuckles.

“Yeah, looking forward to seeing you,” Hyungsik says. “Anyway, I’ll let you go now. Bye,
Taehyung-ah, love you~”

“Love you too~” Taehyung teases back. “Bye!”

When he hangs up, Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok are all staring at him. Jimin’s got an intense
smoky-eye look going on and Jin’s hair is sticking up everywhere, partly styled, and they’d make a
comical picture if they didn’t also look so perturbed. It doesn’t help that the dressing room has
lightbulbs bordering all of their mirrors, casting sharp, unnatural shadows over their faces.

“What?” Taehyung asks, nervous despite himself.

“Who was that?” Seokjin demands.

He blinks. “Uh, Hyungsik-hyung? Wooga squad?”

Jimin’s fingers tap ominously over the vanity table. “Did you tell him you loved him or was I
hallucinating?” he asks. A makeup noona comes over to tap at his nose with a powder puff, but he
remains unfazed, laser glare unrelenting.

Taehyung laughs, waving a hand at him. “Oh, that. It’s just a joke.”

“How’s telling someone you love them a joke?” Hoseok wonders aloud, the only person who
seems sort of amused by the whole situation and doesn’t look like he lowkey wants to throw
Taehyung into shark-infested waters.

“They just—they bug me about it so I go along with it, that’s all,” Taehyung explains. “And so
what if I love them, why y’all gotta be jealous, you know I love you too!”

Jin scoffs. He’s forced to look away when a hairstylist spins him around in his chair to spray his
bangs. “Yeah, well, you never 'joke' about loving us!”

“It’s embarrassing with you guys,” Taehyung protests. “You’re literally family.”

From across the room, there’s a crash, and the four of them turn to where Jungkook apparently
knocked a hairdryer to the floor.

“Sorry!” he squeaks, picking it up and clicking it on to make sure it still works. One of the stylist
hyungs laughs and pats him on the back, whispering something to him, and Jungkook smiles at
him sheepishly. Namjoon groans from the couch.

“I heard that!” he yells at the stylist. “It was one time, I’ve only ever broken one hairdryer!”

Hoseok cackles loudly at Namjoon and a smile creeps up Taehyung’s face too, until Jimin whips
back to him with narrowed eyes.

“You’d better watch your back,” he threatens, completely out of nowhere.

Taehyung gawks.

He feels himself brighten when Jungkook’s door opens after a couple knocks to reveal just the man
he’s looking for, but he purses his lips when he realizes Jungkook’s on the phone.

“Sorry, one sec,” Jungkook says into the line. “Hi hyung, what’s up?”

Taehyung fish-mouths for a second. He actually came by to cuddle, watch an anime or something,
maybe make out, but he can’t exactly say that out loud with whoever it is listening in. “Uh,
nothing! I was bored.”

“Oh.” Jungkook points at his phone, apologetic. “Sorry, might be a while till I’m done.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem...” Taehyung rocks back and forth on his feet. “Who is it?”

“Huh?”

Taehyung gestures at his phone. “Who’re you talking to?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Yugyeomie.”

Taehyung goes still.

“Yugyeom...?” he says slowly. It’s not a name he’s heard often since the whole confession thing
went down, which made Jungkook’s relationship with the boy a bit strained, or awkward at least,
last he heard. He wasn’t aware they made up.

“Yeah, the 97ers are thinking of doing a meet-up some time,” Jungkook explains. “Sorry, I’m just
gonna...” he gestures back towards his room, and Taehyung nods, holding his hands up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you to it. See ya later then.”

“Yeah, bye.” And Jungkook shuts the door in his face.

Taehyung stands there for a moment, a bit shocked by the dismissal. He doesn’t understand why he
can’t be in the room with Jungkook when he’s discussing a meet-up with his friends. It’s not like
Taehyung would bug him while he’s talking with them, and they could still hang out when he’s
done, couldn’t they? It’s not that late yet.

But he shakes it off and goes back to his own room, deciding to ambush Hoseok and snuggle up
with him instead.
Whatever, it’s fine, he doesn’t want to overreact. It’s no big deal.

Taehyung swears he didn’t mean to lose his temper. He really didn’t.

But when your boyfriend, who you’ve loved for the entirety of your formative years and went
through so much shit just to be able to date, starts acting strange and distant and refuses to tell you
why—

Taehyung has never called himself the most mature person.

Nor the most secure.

Jungkook never brushes him off when he touches him, but slowly, the younger has stopped
initiating. And it’s not until this—this phase or whatever began that Taehyung truly came to realize
how far down Jungkook’s walls were for him.

These days, Jungkook doesn’t plop himself down into his lap anymore, like he used to when they
were alone, even if it was under the pretense of annoying Taehyung. He still sits beside Taehyung
whenever the opportunity crops up, but he doesn’t cuddle up against him unless Taehyung does it
first. He’s quick to reply to Taehyung’s messages, but without the enthusiasm from before. He
makes plans to go out but forgets to tell Taehyung about them.

All these little things accumulate inside him, and add on top of that Jungkook’s deliberately blank
expression whenever Taehyung tries to bring up the issue, and Taehyung is admittedly on edge.

So when Jungkook’s phone won’t stop going off while they’re waiting to do their one-take
comeback stage for “Spring Day” on M Countdown, Taehyung gets curious. He stops swinging his
legs and scoots across the couch to the other boy.

“Who keeps spamming you?” he asks, bumping against Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook hums. “Oh, just the 97ers chat,” he says absently, after a long pause. He grins and huffs
out a laugh, his thumbs speeding across the keyboard. Taehyung isn’t all that surprised, he thinks
he heard Jungkook telling the camera about the chatroom earlier while they were joking around
with Taehyung’s long “dog leash” collar.

What could be so riveting about the conversation that Jungkook can’t seem to separate himself
from his phone, though, he wonders? Taehyung leans in closer to take a peek.

His heart goes cold when he sees the sea of heart emojis flooding the conversation, mostly between
Yugyeom and Jungkook. They’re gushing about how excited they are to see everyone, in all caps
with kissy faces and sparkles and generally just—doesn’t seem like the type of messages Jungkook
would send.

Not to Taehyung, anyway. Not lately.

Of course, deep down, Taehyung knows he’s being silly.

That if this happened to any of his friends, he’d tell them they’re overthinking and if they’re really
so bothered by whatever this is, they should talk it out with their significant other.

But he isn’t mature enough to heed his own advice when it comes to Jungkook.

Everything Jungkook does catches his attention. His eyes are always on him, his whole heart
belongs to him. So it makes him sad that Jungkook isn’t matching his affection. He can’t help it.
He’s upset.

When was the last time Jungkook sent him a heart emoji? Has he ever? It’s stupid to care so much,
especially when he knows Jungkook’s just joking around with his friends, but there’s a knot
growing in his chest even if he’s entirely aware of this.

He just doesn’t understand what changed, what he did wrong. They’ve been together for a few
months now and Jungkook spent almost half of it being weird. They were so good at the
beginning.

“So you’re all buddy-buddy with Yugyeom again, huh?” Taehyung asks. Scoffs.

And despite how invested Jungkook was in the phone chat, his head instantly snaps up now, eyes
fixing on Taehyung. That’s how venomous Taehyung’s tone must have been.

Jungkook’s mouth opens, but no words come out.

“Is it fun sending hearts to someone who confessed their love to you just a few months ago?”
Taehyung says flatly.

On the inside, there’s horror creeping into the pit of his stomach at his own pettiness, but his pride
keeps his expression calm and cold.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. His hands loosen around his phone.

Taehyung quickly gets to his feet. He’s afraid he’ll say more, and even though the chunk of his
chest that won’t stop aching urges him to speak his mind, (or to hurt Jungkook the way he’s been
hurt, the ugly part of him hisses) he clamps his mouth shut.

“Tae,” Jungkook whispers, but Taehyung pretends not to hear him as he walks away.

Jungkook follows him around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, trailing after Taehyung on-
stage as though he can’t help it, thrusting his mic in Taehyung’s face to encourage his singing like
he always does. But the hurt is too fresh for Taehyung to be swayed by his sad, confused gaze, so
he continues to avoid Jungkook like the plague and gestures towards Jimin to tell Jungkook to stick
his mic in his face instead.

While they’re recording the behind-the-scenes after the performance, Jungkook squirms his way
into the spot beside Taehyung, and he leans his entire body against his side as he simultaneously
makes cute faces at the camera and not-so-secretively watches Taehyung’s reaction through the
screen. Taehyung is stiff against him, not really wanting to give away the rift between them, but
uncomfortable with Jungkook attaching himself to him when Taehyung’s still upset at him.

Despite knowing how gross and immature he is, there’s a bit of triumph rising from deep inside his
chest. For once, he feels like he’s in-control.

But secretly, under all of the ire and bitterness, he’s relieved. He doesn’t know what he would’ve
done if had Jungkook brushed off his outburst. If he’d laughed it off or dismissed Taehyung’s
concern, Taehyung thinks he might have cried.

He holds strong to his resolve, brushing off Jungkook’s silent but insistent efforts to glue himself
to him. The others have long since noticed that something is going on between them, but they’re
wise enough to leave them to it.
Once they reach the dorms and there’s no one around but the seven of them, Jungkook doesn’t stay
quiet anymore.

“Hyung,” he says softly to Taehyung, and it’s the hardest thing for Taehyung to pretend like he
hasn’t heard but he’s been trying so long to establish some sort of communication with Jungkook
that it doesn’t feel fair if he gives in now, after barely a couple hours.

He brushes past Jungkook and saunters into his room. He expects Jungkook to come chasing after
him, but he doesn’t.

Not until a few long minutes have passed.

And Jungkook must have been working himself up that whole time because when he does come in,
it’s not with a knock or any of the timidity from before.

He throws the door open, then slams it back closed behind him.

Taehyung is in the middle of changing into his comfortable clothes. He straightens out his shirt
before facing Jungkook.

“I didn’t mean anything by the stupid hearts!” Jungkook shouts, and when he sees the glint of tears
in his boyfriend’s eyes, Taehyung’s heart falls straight into the pit of his stomach, a solid, heavy
rock.

“You know I didn’t, why are you so mad!” Jungkook continues to seethe, his voice wobbling.
“What do you even have to be mad about! I’m mad, I should be the one who’s mad, you’re the one
that spends every single free second with literally all of your friends except for us, you’re the one
going around telling other people you love them—”

He gasps then, whether to take in a breath or because he’s overwhelmed, Taehyung doesn’t know,
but he stands there frozen, watching Jungkook stubbornly struggle to tamp down his emotions,
only to fail and hiccup on his first sob.

“What?” is all Taehyung manages.

Jungkook just stands there with his fists at his sides. A tear overflows out of one eye, followed by
the other eye, until they’re trailing down his cheeks. He wipes them away angrily.

Taehyung takes a step towards him. “What do you mean, Jungkook?” he asks, softly now. He
thinks he sees the pieces falling together, at last, after months of feeling adrift.

To no one’s surprise, Jungkook stays mute, glaring at the floor. He looks like he’s beating himself
up, maybe for saying too much.

Taehyung closes the space between them in a few quick steps. His first instinct is to cup
Jungkook’s face and wipe away his tears, but his arms stop partway because he doesn’t know if
Jungkook wants to be touched.

At seeing Taehyung stop though, Jungkook makes this little choked noise in his throat and leans
forward, just the slightest bit. Taehyung gets the hint and wipes his red cheeks with the pads of his
fingers, as gentle as possible. More tears spill out of the younger’s eyes.

“You never tell me you love me,” Jungkook whispers, like it’s a dirty confession, a secret he’s kept
locked up in his heart for ages, only to see the light now.
The clicks of the bits and pieces of a puzzle Taehyung was desperate to put together fitting together
now, is not the relief that he was hoping for. He feels like he’s standing on a swaying boat,
nauseous and helpless and lost. He’s—he never saw this coming.

“Oh god,” he says.

Jungkook whimpers, crying harder, as if saying the words out loud has broken something inside
him. Taehyung hurries to pull him into a hug and press Jungkook’s wet face into his neck.

“I do love you, Jungkook-ah,” he says, trying to be firm and confident about it even though he’s on
the verge of crying himself. “I love you so much, baby.”

“No, you don’t,” Jungkook sobs. “Y-you only asked me out ‘cause that thing with Yugyeom
happened. If it didn’t then we would’ve just been f-friends!”

“Wait, what?” Taehyung pushes Jungkook away by the shoulders to gape at him. “What—wait,
wait. How could you think I didn’t love you just because of how we started dating?”

Jungkook scowls. “I mean, it’s true. You dumped me once already—”

“Whoa, whoa, no, baby, that was because I was scared of ruining our careers, and our hyungs’. I
thought we talked about this?”

Jungkook pouts because Taehyung’s right, they have talked about this. Extensively. And Taehyung
has a feeling that that isn’t what’s bothering Jungkook anyway—it’s the other things he
accidentally blurted out earlier that he really cares about.

“I’m sorry, Kook-ah,” Taehyung says, cupping his face again and planting a soft kiss on his nose.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it bothered you. I didn’t know. Please don’t cry, you’re breaking my
heart.”

Jungkook wheezes, pointedly choking on another sob or two before he stops. He listens, because
he’s always been such a good boy, a good dongsaeng, and underneath the put-on acrimony,
Taehyung thinks Jungkook probably hates the idea of breaking his heart.

He continues to coo at him, wiping his tears away and petting his cheeks until Jungkook has mostly
stopped crying, although he still keeps hiccupping and sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. Taehyung
nudges his hand away and uses his sleeve to dab at those pretty Bambi eyes.

“I love you so much you don’t even know, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ve loved you for years. I’ve
loved you practically since I met you, okay? I just—” he huffs in both frustration and shame. “The
closer we are, the more I love you, the harder it is to say. That’s the only reason I haven’t said it, I
promise.”

Jungkook stays quiet, lips pursed.

“Forgive me, I’m sorry,” Taehyung whines, stroking his face. “I’ll say it from now on, okay?”

Jungkook groans and pushes him away and Taehyung tries not to feel hurt about it. “This is why I
didn’t wanna bring it up,” he hisses. “It’s not real if I’m forcing you to say it.”

“But it is real, I’m just making sure to put it into words now!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes dramatically. He looks off to the side now, a muscle in his cheek ticking.
“...So why’d you get so mad at me,” he says under his breath.

Taehyung comes to a screeching stop from his steamroller of a mission to assure Jungkook exactly
how much he loves him. “Huh?”

Jungkook frowns, peering hesitantly up at him. “About Yugyeom...why did you get that mad about
the hearts.”

The guilt washes through Taehyung anew. He didn’t think his cold shoulder would affect
Jungkook so strongly, but he really should’ve known better. Of course his sensitive, soft-hearted
boyfriend would hurt from that. Taehyung’s never ignored him for more than an hour at most, no
matter how angry he got.

“It’s not—it wasn’t because of the hearts,” hesighs, rubbing his palms over his face. “You were
pulling away from me. You’ve been pulling away and you wouldn’t talk about it no matter how
hard I tired, and I was frustrated. Then I saw you being all happy with, fucking, Yugyeom and I
thought about how well you guys get along, and.” He digs his toes into the carpet. “I’m sorry.”

When he chances a peek over at Jungkook, he finds him pouting down at the floor too, looking
significantly less mad now, though the frown is still there between his eyebrows.

“Oh,” Jungkook mumbles.

They spend a moment alternating between trying to sneak looks at each other and staring at the
floor.

“’m sorry,” Jungkook eventually says, so quietly Taehyung almost doesn’t hear him. “You never
told me you, you know...loved me, so I started thinking what if you don’t—”

“What fucking bullshit.”

Jungkook flinches, round eyes snapping up at Taehyung. Then he bites his bottom lip and looks
away, a subtle, pleased quirk to his mouth.

“A-and I didn’t wanna say anything because then it’d feel forced, so I just got more and more
pissed on my own...” He lets out a dry laugh. “I’m such a kid.”

And Taehyung thinks, for the nth time, that he really should have had an inkling about this.
Because there is no plausible situation in which Jungkook would ever say “I love you” first, except
maybe if the world was coming to an end, or if either of them were on their death beds. How long
has Jungkook been going in circles worrying about this for? How long has he been eagerly waiting
for Taehyung to say the three words so that he can reciprocate in turn? Taehyung’s heart squeezes
just imagining it.

“You’re not a kid,” he says softly. “I got so used to not letting myself say it, so I...” He can’t resist
anymore, stepping forward and yanking Jungkook into a hug. Jungkook’s arms come around him
immediately and he tucks his chin over Taehyung’s shoulder, natural as anything.

“I love you,” Taehyung tells him now, stroking the back of his head. “I’m so lucky that I get to say
it to you after all these years, and that the people in our lives are so understanding. For the longest
time, the only thing I felt towards having this love for you was guilt. But I’m happy now. I
should’ve said it earlier now that we have the chance to do it, I’m sorry, baby.”

Jungkook sniffs against him. “I love you too, Tae,” he murmurs, and even though Taehyung knows
this, hearing it still makes his stomach flip-flop and his knees go weak, his chest filling to the brim
with adoration.

He pulls away to double-check Jungkook isn’t crying again, and after making sure that he looks
happy and healthy as he always should, forevermore, Taehyung draws him into a kiss that
Jungkook enthusiastically returns.

“I’m so glad you followed your friend to that audition,” Jungkook whispers between kisses, totally
randomly, and Taehyung almost starts crying himself.

“Me too, Kookie,” he sighs. “What would I have done without you guys?”

“I dunno, I think you would’ve made a very handsome strawberry farmer.”

“Maybe we would’ve met anyway then, since you like visiting strawberry farms so much.”

Jungkook giggles and hugs him tight as Taehyung peppers butterfly kisses all over his face. “City
boy meets farmer’s son? They fall madly in love? I’d watch that drama.”

Taehyung bursts into laughter and leans his forehead on Jungkook’s, who grins and presses a soft
kiss on his mouth. “Mmm, same. I’d watch the hell outta that too. But hey, we should get a
documentary made of us one day. Our whole, actual love story, BTS behind-the-scenes.”

Jungkook gasps. “That’s insane. I love it.”

“’Course you do, you little adrenaline junkie,” Taehyung snorts, and Jungkook huffs at him.

“Not little.”

“You’ll always be little to me no matter how buff you get, baby.” Taehyung smothers him with
more kisses. “My darling, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Jungkook breathes, his eyes sliding closed.

Jungkook makes a chasm open wide and deep in Taehyung’s chest.

It’s in the cliché ways, like when he smiles his bunny smile or laughs his Elmo laugh or claps his
seal clap, carefree and happy and unthinking of how he looks in that moment, what the cameras are
capturing, simply enjoying what’s going on around him.

It’s in the subtle ways, like his habit of shaking his head every two seconds to fix his bangs, the
lisp that slips out when he’s too lazy to enunciate properly, or the way he stares at his hyungs with
reverence and unconditional love whenever they do something silly. How he’ll spend an entire
variety show eating instead of talking, how his mouth falls open when he’s thinking, or that he
can’t speak a proper sentence for the first half hour after waking. The way he blinks. Yeah, even
the way he blinks, quick and wide, or slow and smug.

The six of them, they’re so lucky to be loved by Jungkook. They all know it, and Taehyung
himself couldn’t be more grateful. He loves Jungkook so much, enough for that chasm in his chest
to open at every small chance, a black hole that grows and grows, so big he’s afraid it’ll consume
him one day. He’ll be nothing more than this gigantic void of affection, longing, desperation, love,
love, love for Jungkook. He believes in angels, because they must have been the ones to bring this
 boy into his life. They must have been the ones who let Taehyung become that one special person
for Jungkook, the way Jungkook is for him.

This was a story of how it wasn’t about Jungkook at first, to how it all became Jungkook in the
end. Sixteen to twenty-three, now, and his love has done nothing but grow.

He can’t wait to see where it’ll take them next.

Chapter End Notes

aand that's the end! this fic was originally supposed to go all the way up to the present
– i had the timeline planned out and paragraphs of notes written for each year and each
event already. bits of dialogue, bits of random prose. so a part of me is regretful that it
has to end here, and i wanted to explain a little about why.

this fic took a lot out of me because i wanted to make it as realistic as possible, in such
a way that the reader might think, “i could really see these things happening behind
the scenes.” i spent hours watching videos on the members’ interactions because i was
new to bts when i started this. i’d write and re-write their reactions to specific events
over and over again until it seemed real, and i filled the fic with words, gestures, and
actions that the members truly used. there was the timeline of actual events to consider
as well, and the interactions we see between taekook there – i had to create a plotline
based on the things we saw so that everything would make sense.

anyway, long story short, it was quite a bit of effort and i found myself feeling drained
and restricted. ultimately, i decided that i would try to cut this fic short in what i hoped
would still be a satisfactory and comprehensive way.

now dont get me wrong, i LOVED writing this, i LOVED creating something that felt
real and genuine, and i enjoyed writing out this little love story of taekook, bits and
pieces of situations and feelings that could potentially truly exist but that we as fans
would never be privy to. it was great to let my imagination run wild, and i enjoyed
embarking on this journey – this fic was my entry piece for bts after all.

so while i’ll have to say goodbye to this fic for now, it was really fun, and i hope u
enjoyed reading this long-ass thing. i can’t believe i wrote 140k for trainee era up to
2017, like, how did that even happen LOOL

thank u so much for reading, and i hope to see u around!! here’s my twt if you’d like to
chat :DD i post fics/one-shots/drabbles that i dont post here on AO3. my cc is open as
well!

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