Archive of Our Own ^beta

_{“i'm going back to 505
if it's a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive” – arctic monkeys - 505}

●

When Taehyung read, ‘One must know conflict and un-comfort in order to progress and mature in life’ on the walls of a rundown building alongside the many dicks and middle fingers graffitied in bright neon colors as he walked the streets of Daegu one hot, humid day, he felt like he wanted to throw himself into the most uncomfortable living conditions- maybe spend a week on the streets with the homeless, or go gluten free for a year.

Given, it was 5 a.m. and Taehyung was on his way back to his house from the town internet café after finishing and submitting his last assignment for his spring semester but it was his epiphany, and no one could tell him otherwise as he licked the traces of salt on his lips from the snack rampage with Jimin earlier. And instead of tattooing it and having his own teenager angst phase, Taehyung decided that the quote is best fit inked into his brain rather than his skin and so, he followed that ideology to heart.

So, he did not end up on the streets, or on a gluten-free diet, but instead, he found himself on a plane…to Osaka, Japan.

Life in Osaka, Japan did not turn out to be what Taehyung had initially planned it to be. Like baby forced out of breast take bottle instead, he took the first flight out from Korea after graduation. It’s not like he’s unhappy, no, it’s just that his life is moving at a slower pace than what he would have preferred at the moment. It’s like he’s stuck out of sync with the world- you know like those cliché movie scenes where everything slows down around the main character in some packed-up train station, except Taehyung was the one stuck in slow motion while the world remorselessly resumed around him.

He knew the interior design vocation was merciless in Japan, and maybe Taehyung was being impatient but he jumped out of his life in Daegu, rip-off-bandage style, the whole “off we go!”, pack-up-and-jump-head-first-out-of-a-window scenario, and even dragged Jimin with him; the unknown higher powers have got to give him something for that gallantry.

If Taehyung would describe his life right now it would be gray. It was his own oeuvre. In his profession, gray is used to neutralize. It’s that element in the room that soothes out the harsh tones of brighter colors so they wouldn’t clash. It’s the underdog of colors. Put black and white together alone in a room and you’d have an eyesore (most probably get fired too), having both extremes pegging for attention: one reflecting the light as the other is absorbing it. But add gray to it and everything harmonizes.

Taehyung is just gray- there is no mix and match, and there are no polar extremes around him. In other words: he’s stuck. He’s in the in-between. The transition. And instead of harmony, everything around him keeps on clashing. His ambition and his professional reality is one example, his wardrobe is two and his ice-cream flavors of choice is three. There is no power to his gray; it’s a state of color blindness without the other contraries. It’s that annoying, awkward hair phase while trying to grow your hair out.

He had expected to be promoted by now, or to have moved on to a better corporate devil, and Taehyung tried, he swears he did. He tried to get his frustrations out through other better and less petty alternatives. Like dyeing his hair to add the color red to his life, or jogging in the park to augment the green, even tried to prepare jam to find purple but that DYI YouTube video fucking lied and his jam was soggy, his lungs combusted- god knows he’ll die earlier if he willingly sets himself out to inhale more of the radiation on the way to the park, and instead of looking kawaii, he just looked like he had a permanent ketchup stain on his head.

So yes, here he is, finger set on the buzzer button, navy manicured tips applying pressure before the static erupts out of the speaker. He lives for that static, it rushes his blood to his ears. Red. It signals him that it’s time to go. Green. It excites him, pushes him on his toes with bruising pressure. Purple.

He waits a second, and then two, licks his glossy minted lips, takes that deep breath and goes for the show again.

“Pigs fly, your government lies!”

He grins. Locates his next building, presses another random buzzer.

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell!”

There’s no preach behind this one, but it’s always nice to teach people something.

He does this every morning on his way to work. It’s therapy, but instead of voicing his thoughts to a professional and paying loads for it, he yells it out into interphones of each building before skipping to the next and he’s especially had it out for Kogane No Basho. The fancy building in Tennoji-Ku district with the ‘no pets allowed’ sign.

“Blue is my favorite smell!”

It’s not exclusively about the static, but about the high of what comes after it. He’s never had many of the tenants reply, but the reaction is never his highlighted concern, the challenge of it and the venting, however, is what keeps him going every morning. The ridiculousness of what can come out of his mouth reminds him that he is, in fact, very subjectively, a creative genius and it translates in his designs at work. Less gray, more vibrant colors.

It’s like cocaine but for the weak asses like him who are afraid to dabble with narcotics, but are insane enough to dabble with being imprisoned for ‘disrupting the peace’ of a certain neighborhood. And there’s always Yuta, the doorman of Kogane No Basho (who requires a doorman to enter and exit the premise? Very pretentious if you ask Taehyung). They have a special kind of relationship where Taehyung almost always gets him fired and Yuta almost always manages to dismantle his nose with random objects thrown at him.

This time, it goes like this:

“Ouuu! A can of Coca-Cola? You’re on a roll today, Yuta.” Taehyung sing-songs, picking the now bent can from where it barely missed his head- thanks to his Bruce Lee reflexes- opening it, and sipping some. The brown sugary drink refreshing for the hot morning, and Taehyung is tempted to let it drip down to his chin.

The second strike is a pen and Taehyung has to ballerina the shit out of the way to avoid it, choking on his-now coke can that splashed a bit of liquid on his hand as his feet touch the ground. The landing was perfect, a whole strike-and-pose and Taehyung even has the balls to boast, licking the liquid from his hand with a smug look. Yuta groans before jogging a few steps, kicking his leg up in the air Taehyung’s way.

But Taehyung is quick and has adapted to the harsh environment around him, meaning he’s been successful thus far at assessing the exact timing and speed at which Yuta may initiate his attacks every day. It’s the right amount of groan and the right amount of glare from Yuta that Taehyungs needs for his survival senses to kick in. 

 “Miss me with that straight shit, Nakamoto.” Taehyung says jogging backwards before striking that awesome mantis pose he learned from long hours beside the TV watching Kung Fu Panda.

“I will end you, mark my words.” Yuta growls back, jogging back towards the building door to reach for the broom.

“My homosexual agenda is shaking.” But despite Taehyung’s bark, his bite is no match to the power of Yuta’s broom so he reaches for the next efficient shelter, the trash can.

“So will your limbs tomorrow morning; revenge will strike down like Zeus and all titans will kneel down, all of the forces of the world will align, karma will be awaken, and you will be a goner!” The first hit vibrates the whole trash can, the second misses him by an inch of his shoulder and that is his cue to leave.

“Wig!” he squeals before abandoning the can and dashing towards the street. He swears he feels the air of the third strike fan his neck before Yuta curses and stomps back to the building. 

And just like that, Taehyung’s morning preach ends.

He calms himself down on the bus bench a few blocks away from where he jogged for his life, his head falling backwards as he heaves for breath, his hand on his chest and sporting a satisfied grin. The young elementary student beside him shoots him a judgmental stare as he scoots a bit further away from him.

“Hi, Woojin” Taehyung giggles, giving him a toothy grin. Woojin is the only Korean person, excluding Namjoon and Jimin, that Taehyung knows in Osaka.

“Good morning Taehyung-ssi, you smell bad.” Taehyung scoffs but hands him his drink anyway. The kid grabs it almost immediately before taking a generous gulp and hiccuping.

“Is this from Yuta again, hyung?” Taehyung nods his way and Woojin brightens up almost immediately.

“Tell him I said thanks!” His little feet scrambling off the bench and onto the ground. Taehyung can hear the squeaking sound effect in his head as the kid runs to his designated school bus. Taehyung takes it as his cue to leave and resume his routine walk to work.

He drops the now-empty soda can in the recycling bin at his work building, Toku Interiors, fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder, huffing the little loose strand of hair blocking his view out of his eyes before entering the gates of hell for the next 8 hours.

“You’re late again.” says Namjoon (like he does every single morning), not looking up from the paper work mounted in front of him as Taehyung passes his office; there’s no use for Taehyung to weasel himself out of Namjoon’s view because all of the walls are actually glass. Taehyung tried to roll on the ground once, but ended up having to remove dust specks from his very red hair all afternoon. Another time, he tried to bolt at the speed of light to his desk, hoping it would make him an unrecognizable blur, but the flaws in his plan were that, 1) he’s not fast enough, and 2) the guaranteed bumping on the edges of desks and tripping resulting in the screams of agony on the ground were a dead giveaway.

“I am aware of my state of unpunctuality, but I am also aware that your job as HR does not require you to point that out always.” Taehyung tries to act cool and smart enough to sway Namjoon but the older man is not having it.

“I know you’re also aware that one of the things that HR people do is fire tardy employees, so shut it, Kim.”

“Wow, so I’m definitely not cooking dinner for you today.” Taehyung scoffs.

“Start with cleaning the permanent jam stain we have in our kitchen.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at Taehyung’s empty threat because he knows for sure that the younger man will most definitely cook dinner for him.

“How about we not mention dark pasts, Kim ctlr c?”

“What the fuck, Taehyung? Just go to your desk and start working because I do not want to be roommates with a person who can’t pay rent anymore because I had to fire him.”

Another thing that helps Taehyung vent is his work colleague, favorite hyung (he’s actually second favorite but he’s the HR so what’s Taehyung supposed to do? Tell him no?) and second roommate, Kim Namjoon. He understands the struggle Taehyung is going through with his promotion; in fact most of the employees do. He’s always on the lookout for preferment work opportunities at work and makes sure Taehyung is mentioned and included, he’s the only support system within the organization.

Due to his weak-by-standards Japanese (he calls it elementary to make it sound at least a little bit less sad), Taehyung hadn’t had the chance to get close to any of the employees at work when he first started, but bless his heart, Korean Kim Namjoon from HR saved Taehyung’s ass, and so, became his only friend there. And due to Taehyung’s modern, minimalist sense of design that seems to clash with the traditional taste of those who are his superiors, big projects are hard to come his way, but Namjoon seems to be the only positive referent within the company who gets him assigned to as many jobs as he is lucky to have each month.

Taehyung met Namjoon in the smoking lounge on his third week in the company; he was on the phone with Jimin about quitting his job and working as a sheep raising monk somewhere in the far Mountains of Magok-sa, Korea when Namjoon reached out to him holding a Korean smoke brand to his mouth before lighting it up for him. They had not met before because Taehyung (thanks to his amazing luck) was interviewed by the other HR officer in the company.

Namjoon was struggling with his living conditions- he was rooming with a Japanese artist and their cultures seemed to clash. Both Kims bonded over their immigrant miseries every day at 1 p.m. and after that, Namjoon moved in with Taehyung and Jimin (who clicked with him immediately over afternoon ice teas with thin lemons slices and rants against Taehyung’s inhumane living conditions).

Taehyung doesn’t understand why Jimin and Namjoon gang up against him almost always- it was one (1) time when they found his dirty underwear frozen in the freezer (give him a break! he was sleepy and tipsy when he was doing laundry and craved ice cream). But despite their obvious bias against him, they were his platonic soulmates for sure; his life partners (Namjoon would nag about the thought of forever with Taehyung, but he was soft for the younger Kim).

Jimin, however, was most definitely, one-hundred percent, no doubt, Taehyung’s actual soulmate since when they were in diapers, more so because he was the only one who entertained Taehyung’s elaborate mantra and plan to come to Japan, leaving Seokjin (Taehyung’s older brother) and both their parents with highly disapproving looks as they wished them luck and hugged them farewell at the airport.

Taehyung and Seokjin were sleeping over at Jimin’s the night Taehyung gave them the whole travel speech, and he even went to the lengths of preparing a 15-minute, 30-slide PowerPoint presentation about it, which mostly included pictures of them photoshopped beside different mansions and wearing silk robes and Rolex watches, but Taehyung guesses Jimin was the only visual admirer within the audience of two.

Jimin immediately looked for modern dance teaching facilities while Taehyung embarked on his journey of sending copies of his resume to every interior design company in Japan; he sent his CV like 5 times to each company, no wonder he got no callbacks. Namjoon, however, one of the two HR at one of the companies that Taehyung bombarded with resumers, had found his persistent ways amusing and promising, hence why he had pushed Taehyung’s file up the list of potential candidates, and Taehyung would not want to admit it (because it’s his hard work and dedication that had brought him here), but that’s what had got him recruited into Toku Interiors.

●

Jeongguk wants to sucker-punch the interphone boy in the face.

That came off too violent.

Jeongguk wants to gently sucker-punch the interphone boy in the face. Yeah, that’s it.

Gently, but with a little bit of blood. That’s universally a-ok right? Red is a nice color, it’s artistic- hipster boy would appreciate it for sure.  

But also, maybe gently being with every ounce of physical strength he has in his 1-meter-80-something-centimeters-70-something-kilos body. You know, as gentle as he could be after being woken up at 7:24 a.m. on the dot for 2 months straight. Not one working day skipped- woken up to his interphone blaring that screechy, buzzer sound in a sporadic pattern.

The boy is awfully punctual too! Jeongguk can practically smell him coming, it’s becoming an issue.

Maybe it’s a bit entertaining when the bickering is mostly directed at Yuta, and maybe he admits he chuckled once or twice at the boy’s replies, lingering a bit beside the buzzer for –scientific- eavesdropping, because thy enemy needs to be crushed austerely and thast can only be possibleth when thy enemy’sth weak pointsth are naked and bare.

The first time it happened, Jeongguk was having a lazy round of morning sex with the hot guy he met at the arcade. Imagine his annoyance to have to stop riding a very attractive man because his interphone just wouldn’t stop ringing- his boner died on the spot. Not for long though because the tiny pixelated screen of the interphone’s camera showed Jeongguk the face of a man way hotter than the one in his bed at that moment. Totally not weird of him to pop a boner because of the length of a guy’s hair, right? Safe to say, Jeongguk did not pick up the first time.

The unfairly hot, hipster dumb-fuck sounded like he was on crack. Looked like he was too, with his locks hanging out of his stupid attractive bun. Jeongguk has never seen a guy so adamant on challenging, with mix of colors and clothing, what can be deemed socially acceptable; it seems like he’s one to blur gender lines. Jeongguk thought his hangover had played tricks on his eyes once, but he could have sworn the boy was wearing a red lace shirt, a cute bow gracing the neck of it, with a strapless body top underneath (pink by the way) with floral prints (because why not?), perfectly tucked into tight, gray pants that he filled generously from the back. He almost always has something glittery- that’s definitely his trademark, Jeongguk guesses, whether they’re cute, thunder-bolt shaped, sparkly earrings, lip gloss, or transparent nail polish. Fuck him, though, his smile outshined all of the above.

The second time the sudden, unexpected buzzing happened, literally the next morning from the first time, Jeongguk shouted a “what?!” into the interphone before he was met with a "Workers of the world, unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains!".

After the first 32 times, Jeongguk started waking up at 7:20 a.m. and waiting by the interphone until the boy buzzed it so he could throw in a comment that would anger the anti-capitalistic boy even more than he already was angry. It was funny for Jeongguk, but the interphone boy was having none of it. On the contrary, it just made him retaliate even harder.

That’s why, on the 63^rd morning, Jeongguk was met with a direct threat, it went like this: “listen here, resident of apartment 505. I will not only overthrow the bourgeois, but I will overthrow you off that balcony of yours as well.”

Jeongguk found it so funny that he wheezed a weird laughter until the boy groaned and stomped away. It was war ever since.

Now, Jeongguk is being attacked by the buzzer on a Monday morning. Not only is he extremely hungover, but he also failed at getting laid, which only worsened his mood.

The buzzer just wouldn’t stop, so Jeongguk has to do what he gotta do. He pushes himself off his bed and pads over to the balcony where he can clearly see the interphone boy starting to walk away. So Jeongguk does the only logical thing- he throws his plant-watering water at him. Then efficiently throws the watering pitcher with it too.

Of course, he is tipping water from 5 stories up, so the trajectory isn’t ideal, and although some water splashes on the boy’s head, most of it goes on the ground next to him, but the pitcher is a full-on bullseye; it hits the targeted bun causing it to tip over the side of the boy’s head. Success, enemy disarmed and vulnerable but still... gorgeous??

Jeongguk ducks out of sight as the high-pitched screech resounds, and he cackles to himself while the boy throws some…indecent profanities- in Korean.

The happiness in Jeongguk’s chest only expands when he hears the Korean syllables, so he stands up proudly (not really, he is still out of sight) and yells at the top of his lungs, “Fuck your Karl Marx oppa!”, also in Korean.

The boy’s head snaps up to where Jeongguk is, but he can’t see him of course, so he huffs in annoyance and says, “if I weren’t late for work I would go up there and beat your ass, punk, but Namjoon hyung can only pull so many strings for me, so consider yourself lucky, mister. My tardiness saved you this time.” And then he angrily stomps away.

One day Jeongguk will aim at his vocal chords, maybe bloodily, when he finally purchases a bb gun, or maybe harshly, when he gets a hold of the boy’s throat and shoves his tongue inside it as deep as he can, whichever way Jeongguk deems more satisfying at the given moment in the future.

Today, he just needs to set out and strategize his next move. One plant has to go, motherfucker- it’s the price of sweet, delicious revenge. Jeongguk will soil his face with the blood -dirt- of his causalities if he must.

Life as a successful, young senior auditor will come second in his list of achievements.

“I think you’re becoming borderline obsessed,” Yoongi says at work, hovering above Jeongguk’s desk. He tips his head to point at the crumpled papers with a messy “revenge: morning 72” scribbled on them in Hangul alongside the forgotten- and now cold- dark, bitter coffee and spreadsheets for Lotte corporation.

“I’m being appropriately obsessive, mind you. You would understand if you spend one morning at mine.” Jeongguk grumbles as he pushes himself further down the chair and rests his chin on the cold, wooden desktop. He’s tired, really tired. He spent last night catching up on the pile of work he had to do; Lotte’s balance sheet is taking more time and energy out of him and he obviously didn’t wake up at the chosen time he would have preferred. It was fucking ridiculous, his shifts start at 9 a.m, and yet he’s woken up at ass o’clock in the morning every weekday.

And Jeongguk is never able to fall back asleep, his blood boiling with anger as he bites at his fisted hand and paces his carpeted living room. He had known he will not be having any of it the next morning that night, so he taped one of his pillows over the interphone in hopes of drowning some of the sounds- he even closed all doors in between the satanic device and his room, put on his ear plugs, and played weird ASMR audios in hopes of drowning out the noise if it comes. He was also considering snipping the interphone chords, but he doesn’t have time to get it fixed again, and it’s a very useful device.

And yet here he is, eyes blood red from exhaustion and a little puffed. You can guess how well his precautions went.

“I threw water at him, hyung! He’s driving me insane. Please, spend the night over today, maybe your little goblin-like physique will terrorize him if you chase him the next morning as I stall him!”  Jeongguk jumps at the idea, reaching out for his notebook to write it down.

“Respect your elders, brat.” Yoongi retaliates as he swats the younger on the forehead. Jeongguk lets out a strangled sound at that, rubbing his forehead but adamantly continuing to write his genius plan down. “As much as I would like to help you, kid, I’ve been recently seeing this cute Korean teacher from Sungie’s dance academy, and let’s say his tightly shaped ass will be coming over for dinner tonight.” Yoongi chimes proudly, sipping on Jeongguk’s coffee and squirming.

“The tiny blonde I caught you sharing ice cream with downtown?!” Jeongguk replies, making grabby hands at Yoongi for his coffee, but Yoongi throws it in the trash, giving Jeongguk a judgmental look. Jeongguk lets out an exasperated sound as he watches the coffee catch its fate. His body needs the black juice to function.

“Yes, that blonde. Lower your voice, will you? I don’t want Hoseok to hear about it because I made him babysit that day, thanks to your ass being too busy chasing boys down pub allies.” Yoongi throws a look at Hoseok, in the office opposite of Jeongguk’s, who’s got his earphones plugged in, busy biting on his pencil as his curly hair bounces with every bob of his head. He’s blissfully doing report call-overs, unaware of the angsty cloud hovering above the office, credit of Mr. Jeon Jeongguk’s heavy sighs and body slumps.

“He seems nice. I didn’t peg you as a person to fall for giddy moon eyes and puckered pink lips.” Jeongguk comments, but Yoongi shrugs, lifting himself to get off Jeongguk’s desk.

“It’s uwu culture, you wouldn’t get it.” he says before walking away to go back to his office (which is on third floor while Jeongguk’s is on the sixth, but Yoongi is the manager of the department so no one questions him. Fucking hierarchy.)

“I bet your kid would.” Jeongguk retaliates a bit loudly, getting a few curious glances from employees.

“Yah! Leave Woosung out of this.” Yoongi harmlessly barks, throwing a pen Jeongguk’s way, but it only thumps down on his paperwork.

Work, right, Jeongguk needs to focus.

Regardless of how many times he tries to focus, however, Jeongguk still manages to get work dumped on him for after-hours at home. Jeongguk picks at his fingernails, grimacing at the state of restlessness of his face in the mirror, the taste of blood snapping him out of this trance of intense staring. He splashes cold water as a failed attempt to sober up a bit, and tries to pep talk himself into finishing that god damned excel sheet without falling asleep. He sighs once again, scratching at the tattoo on his knee that he got four years ago from the rebellious phase he went through, Yoongi holding his hand as he drunk-ly throws half-slurped words of encouragement Jeongguk’s way who was grunting frustratedly from the pain of the sting, his face shoved deep into the crease of his arm, unhealthily biting at it. Now he’s stuck his whole life with a gigantic face of a lion with demonic horns, on his knee out of all places. Jeongguk has to admit that it’s super hot, and resonates really well with his hookups, more so with those of them who have dicks, so he can’t complain, but his 9 to 5 desk job in a corporate setting seems a lottle contrasting. That’s a little- but a lot.

Jeongguk never really wanted to be an auditor- it wasn’t his ideal career path. He would have preferred something else, to be honest, maybe a marine biologist, even circus poop-scraper if he wanted to, but his choices were cut short as his dad sat him down in their living room on his last week of high school, encouraging him to take the accounting and auditing scholarship his dad (and his impressive report cards and SAT scores) managed to land him at Duke University in New York. And that marked his fate- he was well stuck down the professional line of all the male Jeon family members. Jeongguk will make sure the tradition will be cut and burnt at himself, that’s for sure.

He met Yoongi during his sophomore year of college in one of his intermediate accounting classes. He was frustratingly doodling in his copybook after he had failed to take notes because his professor was practically mumbling the material and going through the slides at record-breaking speed. Decidedly, Jeongguk gave up on the seventh minute of class and started sketching the professor hung from the projector when he heard a little husky chuckle from behind him. The boy sat behind him looked more like a cat than a human, but Jeongguk found him adorable all the same. Apparently, they both hated the professor with burning passion, because the dude (who smelled like candy) took the pen from Jeongguk’s hand discretely sliding up front, swatting Jeongguk’s hand away so he could draw the professor’s mustache properly, and then he added his phone number as the finishing touch with his name sloppily written on the side. Min Yoongi- with a heart. Intermediate accounting lowkey wasn’t all that bad for Jeongguk after since.

They sat next to each other for a week, exchanging frustrated sighs and chuckles as they struggled to keep up with the professor. It gradually upgraded to strawberry tongue wrappers and short notes, after. They torturously danced around each other for a month or so, brushing their limbs against each other and sitting shoulder-to-shoulder before Jeongguk mustered up the courage to finally text Yoongi. Yoongi was surprisingly patient with the slow progression and Jeongguk was grateful he got the memo that Jeongguk was a shy kid.

With Yoongi being one of the few Koreans on campus, the two boys became close quite quickly, falling into place with each other’s class schedules. They only shared that one afternoon class together since Yoongi was a senior, repeating the course only to hike up his GPA. All of Jeongguk’s other classes were in the morning while Yoongi had only one other class after their shared one. They would share lunch together before Yoongi hands Jeongguk the keys to his place and goes to class.

Yoongi had his own little apartment near campus that Jeongguk took full advantage of. The space was minimal with the bedroom open to both the living/bed room (it was the one couch and TV beside his bed) and kitchen, the only privacy being the bathroom door and the shitty 5 tile balcony that Yoongi utilized as his smoking area. Jeongguk practically lived there- it was decided upon when he took his first dump comfortably. It was his own little haven for chilling, hookups throughout his bi-curious phase, and motivational sleepovers during finals week where they both made sure they stayed awake during the full nighters which admittedly, turned into heavy, quite meaningless, make out sessions between the two to let the stress of their unhealthily caffeinated-and-sleep-deprived bodies out. And of course, Yoongi was the one to initiate it, like everything else in their friendship.

It was finals before Christmas break and Yoongi had 13 Derivatives chapters for his final the next day while Jeongguk needed to finalize his entrepreneurship project that he so stupidly signed up for as a major elective. It will be a healthy challenge my ass, past Jeongguk, fuck you.

To top it all off, the heater broke so both of them had to latch onto the next warm thing in the room. Their genius plan of huddling next to boiling water failed miserably since the apartment turned into a hot boxed sauna and they almost suffocated themselves to death, so they did what every homosexual duo in a heterosexual dude bro friendship would do- cuddle each other on the sofa.

Jeongguk was sprawled on top of Yoongi with three layers and a hoodie on, while the other was laying on the sofa sniffing as he reviews his material on the laptop that was laying on Jeongguk’s back, absentmindedly playing with Jeongguk’s hair whose cheek was squished onto the older’s chest, his hand reaching the table for his own laptop. Yoongi kept tugging on Jeongguk’s hair each time he got an answer wrong and Jeongguk whined “hyung” every time, before he had enough and decidedly bit Yoongi’s shoulder.

The sneak attack triggered a full-on wrestling match which ended with Yoongi kneeing Jeongguk in the chest. Jeongguk huffed his hair out of his face and looked at his skinny, but surprisingly strong, hyung.

“I’m so fucking stressed, hyung.”

“Yeah, me too, Gguk-ah” 

“Yeah?”

“Gguk?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Okay.”

There weren’t any real sparks or fireworks, they both just wanted to let their frustrations out and kissing was a better alternative than elbowing each other till one of them dies. Their teeth clashed and their lips smacked violently against each other, they bit into each other’s lips and moaned lowly into hot mouths. The kisses were always bruising, and their hands grabbed at anything they could reach: hips, hair, clothes, and the apartment drowned in hot breaths and suffocating sexual drive.

It was a habit since after, Jeongguk would stomp up Yoongi’s apartment building stairs before pushing the door open. He would whine “hyung” in that little, breathy voice, before dropping his bag anywhere, and it was enough for Yoongi to drag him onto his lap and for Jeongguk to wrap his cold fingers around the warm skin of Yoongi’s nape. Hands and thighs wrapping into place around each other, and lips hurtling against each other again and again.

Yoongi was a senior when he met Jeongguk, and to Jeongguk’s dismay, he had to leave quickly after his last finals week since he managed to land a decent job at an accounting and auditing firm in Japan. Jeongguk might have been a tiny bit in love, secretly that is- he would have back flipped down a bridge at the time if Yoongi were to find out. They kind of lazily kissed on his last day, Yoongi promised he’d land him a job where he worked too, but with Jeongguk’s dad, it wouldn’t be that much of a struggle if he requested it as well.

During their 2 years apart, with Jeongguk being overwhelmed with studies and Yoongi being busy with work, not to mention the time difference, Jeongguk realized that his feelings weren’t beyond infatuation with the cool kid at university. The dark punk kid who seemed to prove stereotypes wrong with his 4.0 GPA and excelling attitude towards campus matters. Everybody seemed interested in the mint-headed boy back then, but all his attention was limited to Jeongguk, which he gladly soaked all up at the time. Their relationship was never exclusive, and they never really went beyond making out. But Yoongi’s small gestures of affection and care might have sparked little hope of something more in young Jeongguk back then.

Sure, they loved each other, they still do, but at the end, their love is purely the “you’re the platonic love of my life whom I would not mind making out with” kind.

When Jeongguk finally graduated and made his way to Japan, their relationship, however, seemed to take on a different dynamic. Jeongguk spent a whole year or so building himself, doing internships and job-hopping until a vacancy opened at Yoongi’s workplace and Jeongguk was hired as an auditing assistant. Jeongguk, like Yoongi, sadly, had roommates back then, but in an extreme strike of luck, the real estate market dropped and with piled funds, loans, and a stack on money from their daddies (their biological ones) both boys were able to buy their own apartments. It was a great pre-emptive move on Yoongi’s part, because he was in a committed relationship with a girl Jeongguk approved of from the get go, and he, very maturely decided to bypass the first 2 very important stages of a relationship: 1) befriend 2) betroth and jumped right into the third: 3) bang up, and that’s how Yoongi ended up with a handful of baby, a failed relationship, a broken heart, and abandonment issues. All things aside, Woosung’s been the light of Yoongi’s (and Jeongguk’s) life for the past 5 years, so that’s that.

 -

Jeongguk slumps on the toilet seat of his spacious bathroom, his vision catching sight of the bathtub, and he considers taking a hot bath before quickly dismissing the idea. Life really needs to give him a break. He cannot even rest in his own space because of that hipster gremlin who’s adamant on fucking breaking the system through his half-assed buzzer preaches.

Jeongguk goes all the way to the living room, ripping the pillow off the interphone, and buzzing in Yuta’s extension.

“Yuta, you better fucking choke-slam the delinquent tomorrow before he even reaches my buzzer. Ambush him, catch him by surprise, pepper spray him even, I don’t care.”

“Gguk, I’ve tried everything! He must have been a fucking ninja in his past life or some shit. I’m tiredt.” Yuta even pronounces the whole slang to highlight his point.

“Build. A. Fucking. Wall. Do anything, Yuta!”

“Relax, Trump, you’re so fucking frustrating. I’m trying.” He huffs and Jeongguk imagines the strawberry blonde locks feathering his forehead before settling back down on his eyes.

“I’m guessing you have an all-nighter today?” Yuta asks, pulling Jeongguk out of his sleepy trance.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs. “I would prefer a glass of wine and you in my bathtub, but it is what it is.” He tries to pull out his best kicked-puppy imitation with his voice, whining a bit to give it that extra guilt-trip kick.

Yuta giggles despite his efforts, sweetly dismissing his initiations like it’s routine. “Always so flirty, Mr. Jeon, the infamous, resident fuck boy.”

Jeongguk lightly settles his forehead on the interphone speaker, his forehead forming circled creases from the pressure of his head’s weight on it. “When will I get you to say yes?”

“It is not a time for it, Jeongguk, we are at war here.” Yuta almost growls, a bit too seriously.

“This is reverse history, Yuta. Koreans invading Japan.” Jeongguk says to sound smart, chuckling at his own joke.

“Don’t you have work?” Yuta answers back, all with the same wit.

“Oh, shit. Work.”

He can hear Yuta chuckle as he scrambles off his apartment wall, grimacing at the state of it (his home desperately needs re-painting) before shuffling defeatedly to his designated work spot. The cozy juncture between his round leather couch and the dwarf-legged table, the fluffy carpet being an excellent place to rest his suffering butt on as he works it off for the endless hours of the night.

Jeongguk deliberately redecorated his living room so that the couch was facing the huge apartment window. Sure, he can’t watch TV without breaking his neck to see it, but Jeongguk’s outlook of the district is a fundamental need when he needs to respite his eyes away from the laptop screen, or when he’s feeling a bit desperate and let’s that single tear run down his cheek.

That’s his Christian Grey moment and no one can take it away from him. 

Jeongguk’s finishing up his 14th spread sheets of expense vouching, munching on the ungodly amount of Maltesers chocolate balls he has spread around him (which were meant to be Woosung’s treats for when he comes over for animation movie night, but like “treat yourself bitch 2k18” is a mood for when desperate times hit with Jeongguk) when he knows it was his limit for the night.

He hums to the tune of another Arctic Monkeys song, reaching out for his eighth pack of the night and he just knows, he knows his arm won’t reach long before he’s passed out on the table. And so he does, his back stretching at an awkward angle and his cheek pressing on one loose Maltesers ball that crunches under it, the sun already shy at the orangey horizon of the city view.

“This will be ugly.” is the last thought he has, cringing mentally before his eyes droop down fully, his unconsciousness pushing him right into the engulfing darkness of some second dimension. Black and then static.

And then more static. The static gets louder with every buzz until it’s bordering a screech. Jeongguk winces at the sound and then at the sun rays hitting his eyes directly. His neck is stiff and he massages it, eyes lazy and lips pouty.

He sniffles and stretches out his limbs, looking around to register his surroundings. Why is he in his bed? Another screeching static hits his ears and he groans at the intensity of it, sighing when it stops and that’s when he feels long, lean fingers grabbing at his wrist lazily.

Startled, Jeongguk whips his arm out and holds it with the other, his head ducking up and at the direction of the owner of the fingers.

He doesn’t remember inviting anyone in and what the actual fuck. Pause.

Communist boy is giggling at Jeongguk, his honey hair falling charitably on his caramel-colored shoulder and all over the pillow. He looks gorgeous in Jeongguk’s sleeveless shirt, exposing his boney ribs at his chest and his pink puckered nipple. Jeongguk wants to taste, to stretch out the cut and discover more of its capacity to uncover and bare out for Jeongguk’s tongue to lap on and swipe.

“We literally reenacted a vine.” The boy says, looking at Jeongguk with warm, sleepy eyes and Jeongguk still can’t understand, his eyes squinting at the hipster laid so comfortably, wrapped up in his rose gold sheets that match perfectly with the gold of the boy’s skin.

And before Jeongguk can respond, maybe even mutter a “wtf” to proceed and ask him how the fuck they got into this situation, interphone boy gets up on his hands and knees, crawling towards Jeongguk whose throat dries up as he ogles at his every move.

The boy presses his nose on Jeongguk’s thigh, nibbling at the bare skin and humming in content. Jeongguk manages an audible swallow at which the boy chuckles before sucking at a certain spot- hard.

“So sensitive.” he whispers, licking once and then twice before smiling at the purple color Jeongguk’s skin flourishes almost instantly. “Now you’re beautiful.” he whispers with a stretch of his lips, dread washing his face almost quickly after it, he looks at Jeongguk with a bit of confusion, mirroring the other’s expression.

“But something is missing.” He then says with concern, shuffling a little so his face could get closer to Jeongguk’s groin. Jeongguk feels his toes curl involuntarily with anticipation when those long fingers reach inside his boxer briefs and skin touches skin, the goosebumps on his neck causing a small shiver that reaches his scalp.

“What.” Jeongguk chokes out when the boy darts his tongue out, experimentally licking from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip and Jeongguk can’t control the moan that bubbles in his chest at the sensation.

Communist boy kitten-licks the tip again, shaking his head in frustration right after. “That’s not it.” He mutters, as if his attempt failed at getting the reaction he needs. He looks at Jeongguk again with more determination before flattening his tongue on the other’s hip, licking and then leaving open-mouthed kisses up to his chest, Jeongguk gasping at every spit slicked skin the boy covers, his brain going on an overdrive and his hands involuntarily wrapping around the boy’s loose hair to tug.

The boy is pliant, leaning his head back with the force of it, mouth open and lips shimmering from the spit. He always fucking shines- Jeongguk is in disbelief.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, but the boy does not reply, he rests his forehead on Jeongguk’s chest before sighing.

 “I must find it.” His voice is muffled and it’s hard for Jeongguk to hear, but the boy’s warmth is overwhelming, engulfing Jeongguk like he’s hugging a furnace. The boy was about to speak again, but he decides against it, his mouth latching onto Jeongguk’s nipple instead, causing the latter to arch his back at the sensation, hissing as he scratches the boy’s scalp and causes him to growl mid suck, and oh- his voice is deep, Jeongguk notices through his daze.

He does not let Jeongguk recover because as soon as he’s done he groans yet again, latching onto his neck next and biting with force. “No! Not purple.” he speaks, voice broken and hoarse, his face shoved in the crease of Jeongguk’s neck in defeat and Jeongguk can already feel how hard he is pressed on his thigh, the slick of the tip soiling the mark the other left on him.

How are they fully naked now?

Jeongguk is tempted to touch- to reach down and stroke the length but his arms are frozen; they feel numb and tingly laid out on the bed. Jeongguk can’t move; he tries to reach out again but his fingers curl up in the process. He feels the anxiety seeping and flooding his throat, occupying his windpipe and he can barely breathe.

He tries to look down on the boy splayed on top of him, his slumped body caging him and restricting his breathing as well. He gasps for a small breath, the boy now dragging his teeth on Jeongguk’s ear lobe, he rags his breath against his jaw and inhales to speak again.

“Eat the rich.”

What?

And then the screeching is back.

“Eat the rich! Eat the rich!”

Jeongguk jolts up, the drool on his mouth connecting to the puddle he created on the table he was laid on.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“I will personally eat you!” Yuta’s voice is heard clearly, even from 5 stories up. Jeongguk can hear the other fucker’s giggle and then something crash.

Jeongguk wipes his spit with the back of his hand, looking at his reflection on the turned-off screen of the laptop. He sees the dark circles that are now impossibly intensified from yesterday and something in him snaps.

His lips flatten and glue shut, afraid that if he opened them he’d scream till his vocal chords start to bleed. He scrambles up his feet, a bit wobbly and heavy from the sleep but darts regardless to his kitchen, finding the next creative weapon he can use, before settling on an unused spatula. He was going to go for the kitchen butcher knives but those are saved for day 100 the boy manages to wake him up in.

Yes, he is counting.

Jeongguk grabs the spatula with a tight grip, power-walking to his balcony, his toes curling on the cold floor before whooshing the door fully open in one shift, the wind blowing teasingly on his shuffled fringe. His look of determination does not waver at the chill of it, however, he just continues to march to the railing, and looks down at the scene below him.

Yuta is tugging at the boy’s bag as the other tries to rip it out of his grasp and bolt. Jeongguk smirks and prepares his aim, narrowing his lids down to focus on the head where it will hurt the most and then he shoots for the goal before hurriedly kneeling out of view.

Jeongguk hears both of the boys squeal and he chuckles in victory, but then Yuta is groaning in disbelief.

“Jeongguk, you fucking hit me!”

Oh no.

“Jeongguk, huh?” the boy screams, his voice barely audible at the distance he most probably managed to cross victoriously with his bag in hand, but he can still hear the gasp in the way he speaks, the amusement painfully obvious in his tone too. 

Oh fuck no.

“I said I’m sorry!” Jeongguk later screams from his bedroom fixing his shoe lace that fucks up his styled hair instead as he leans down. He’s exhausted, very fucking so and already late, Yoongi will have him by his throat when he steps into the building, he’s that late. He sits on his bed and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling shakily.

Why him? Why?!

“I was so close, Jeongguk! So close!” Yuta screams from the living room where he made himself comfortable after stomping up to Jeongguk’s apartment to yell at the assault he endured. Jeongguk’s head hurts; he needs some aspirin but what he really needs right now is some fucking peace and quiet.

He gets up and slams the door of his bedroom shut, however, he can still hear Yuta’s gasp and complaints about closing the door in his face. He regrets it instantly opening the door almost immediately.

“Yuta!” Jeongguk whines, dropping his head on the room wall with resignation. Screw his hair and screw his shoe lace right now, he’s reached rock bottom at this point.

Yuta sighs again but then says, “We’ll get him another time, Gguk. I’m going to make you a peanut butter and banana sandwich, okay?”

Jeongguk almost tears up at that, nodding to no one in specific- he really wants that peanut butter and banana sandwich. Being the cause of the boy going mute in the future comes next on this list.

Yoongi does not end up choking him into the sweet release of death at work, he does, however, call later to spring upon Jeongguk more reasons to do the job himself.

“But Yoons, listen. I need to work.” Jeongguk tries to beg his way out of it again, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he taps away on his laptop.

Yoongi’s voice is staticky and sounds far as he replies, probably because he’s driving and speaking over the car’s Bluetooth. “And my ass needs to get fucked.”

“How’s that my responsibility?” Jeongguk grumbles.

“I honestly give zero fucks. Woosung’s your child just as he is mine, and I would appreciate if you put in a little more effort to help me with him.” Yoongi deadpans, as if Jeongguk birthed Woosung.

“Hyung, you know I love Woosung more than anything, but I have work.” Jeongguk tries again, but Yoongi sighs and says, “I’m picking him up from art class now, and I’m bringing lunch to yours. Sorry, Gguk, but I really need to get laid.”

“You’re selfish and you only care about yourself.” Jeongguk says, putting the phone on speaker and laying it on the table since his neck started to cramp.

“Love you too, baby.” Yoongi coos at him, chuckling before beeping at some asshole who probably cut him off on the highway, spitting curse words like a rapping professional. Ahh, Yoongi’s infamous road rage, it’s incredible how Woosung is so well mannered.

Hoseok and Jeongguk swore off riding along Yoongi whether he’s driving or just tagging along. Jeongguk learned more Japanese curse words than the basics he needed to buy bread at the supermarket when he first came out here.

“I want sashimi.” He pouts with the demand

“Extra wasabi, I know.” Yoongi replies blowing a kiss that ended up just sounding like a quick ass fart from the speakers.

He grimaces at the attempted affection from his platonic life mate. He will not accept love from someone who’s acting from his own self-interest, throwing Jeongguk under the bus like that. Ugh, he can’t believe he practically fell for that parent trap again. He loves, scratch that, fucking adores Woosung with all his being. He practically helped raise the child when Yoongi couldn’t by himself- especially during the period when the only biological parent Woosung has was going through a depressive period.

Jeongguk knows that this child is his, because regardless of there being no physical resemblance, he can see bits of himself in Woosung. The bright glow of his pupils when he’s curious about something, or the bunny munch he does when he eats his vegetables with determination, or even his hanging mouth when he watches his cartoons in concentration.

Woosung is like a sponge at his beginning stages of life, and it’s always a dangerous and stressful time, especially raising the child to adopt both Korean and Japanese cultures all together. It’s also stressful when Woosung begins to question the absence of his mother; Jeongguk can still remember the hurt look on Yoongi’s face and the stinging clench of his own chest when Woosung came back from school one time with a family portrait, sporting a pout on his face when the teacher questioned why he drew Yoongi, himself, and Jeongguk only rather than the heteronormative definition of parents.

Yoongi sat Woosung on his Ironman-themed highchair and had to practically pull off the best speech a four year old can understand about social norms and constructs; how a family does not necessarily have be picturesque, the way magazines and billboards set them up to be. There is not always a mother and a father or even siblings and a cute house dog, it can be anything he wants as long as it made him feel comfortable, because comfort is home and home is where family exists and lives.

Woosung sucked all of it up with the best high spirits, even though he looked confused, he nodded vehemently at his father, his brows furrowed as he bit his lower lip. He was determined to learn and Jeongguk melted to a big puddle of goo, notwithstanding the tense atmosphere that day. But despite it, Jeongguk felt helpless at that moment, lingering on the side at the corner of the room trying to take in what Yoongi is saying as well, because it was hard for him too- it was hard to see the kid grow up in a broken family, but he understood that day as he and Yoongi sat in the balcony, holding hands as they downed a bottle of wine, that this is actually not a broken family. No, they weren’t a broken family because they weren’t missing anything; on the contrary, they had additional things to offer that no one can replace.

Jeongguk can definitely see Yoongi in Woosung: he certainly inherited the pouty lips and the extra boopable nose from, he even got the rosy cheeks and little kitten teeth his father sports so proudly. He resembles Yoongi in the best of ways, with his patience, his intelligence and his capacity to learn. He’s already wiser than most at his age and it blows Jeongguk’s mind every time.  When he watches cartoons and frowns up at Jeongguk who’s always swiping the little drool that gets on his chin from how long his mouth hangs, correcting the things he find unrealistic and criticizing things he does not think are correct.

“How can he fly like that with the kite, Tokki? He is heavy.”

Jeongguk had looked down at him, astonished, he tried to think of something to respond to the question when Yoongi came in from the kitchen with a bowl of nuts, laying it between Jeongguk and the kid, then scrambling on the floor right under them.

(Yoongi claims he has a thing against couches when really he just wants to find an excuse to lay his head on either Jeongguk’s or Woosung’s thighs and have his hair caressed.)

Yoongi had then picked a few pieces of nuts and then dropped them right into the bowl again, making Woosung focus on his actions. “The cartoon is not realistic, Sung-ah, he should stay on the ground because of gravity just like the nuts fell down after I let them go.”

Woosung narrowed his eyes, completely ignoring the cartoon displayed specifically for him (but honestly Jeongguk is the only one digging this shit) shifting his view back to the bowl.

“Gravity?” he asked, making the elders chuckle. Yoongi nodded before dropping his head on his thighs, kissing them before resting his rosy cheek on his kid’s similar pale skin. Jeongguk didn’t want to ruin their moment but his need for affection overpowered, so he shuffled closer to Woosung, playing with his hair as the latter played with his father’s in return. It was one of the best mid-day Sunday naps Jeongguk’s ever had, and he was pretty adamant on repeating it every Sunday till it became a routine.

Their Sunday routines gradually started including a certain Hoseok along the passing of time, who’d shamelessly rest his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder and snore- it’s impossible to hear anything after that but it’s okay since they’d all be long gone, cartoon playing and ruthlessly ignored. Jeongguk never remembers watching any of the endings.

Jeongguk snaps out of his reverie, and gets up from where he’s comfortably snuggled in front of his laptop, and starts fixing up the house. Starting with removing the wine bottles he’d left on the kitchen counters and the clothes and shoes he’d immediately stripped out of in the hallway.

He wasn’t planning on going anywhere today so he’s practically naked with only his boxer briefs on; he’s not an animal, okay? he can still be decent when left alone. He gets Woosung’s snacks and (half-eaten) chocolate out of the cabinets and turns on his TV to search for whatever cartoon is on his Netflix watchlist.

He then goes to his bedroom to search for any of his basketball shorts when he sets his view on his rose gold sheets and sighs.

He cannot believe he dreamt what he had dreamt the other night; he’s a little bit too embarrassed to admit he realized he was sporting a huge boner after staying kneeled down on the balcony floor this morning. I mean, morning wood is pretty normal but it’s not when it leaks pre-cum all over his distressingly tight boxer briefs. He sat on his balcony floor staring at his junk as if already defeated, how dare he be attracted to the enemy like that? It was both humiliating and thrilling knowing that the boy could practically get Jeongguk on his knees if he wanted to, so it was good that it was Yuta who was handling the situation downstairs (wishes he could also handle his downstairs situation too).

Jeongguk shakes his head and puts on the suspiciously clean shorts he found at the bottom of his closet. This is only sexual frustration, not attraction, that’s acting up for sure. It has got to be, dude. Jeongguk hasn’t had a proper lay in two weeks and Yuta is just not complying anytime soon. Plus, he needs sex for stress relief reasons; he’s been practically living on high anxiety because of all the work that’s piling up and the sleep he’s not been getting. Or maybe fucking the enemy is another sort of victory, since he’d literally be screwing the guy up. And Jeongguk wants to screw him, he really does, so badly it would hurt the hipster to his very being, so deep and rough that he would be practically begging Jeongguk to stop.

No! no, his thoughts are drifting and that is not where he is going. Nope to hell and back, motherfuckers. Jeongguk will have his head straight for actual screwing. Not actual-actual screwing, but like crushing-communist-boy kind of screwing, like how he would crush his body on the matt- okay fuck this.

Jeongguk slaps himself to sober up then scrambles for a t-shirt too, pushing his low cut sleeveless shirts out of the way before finding a plain gray one wrinkled up into a ball at the bottom corner of his shirt drawer- Jeongguk may or may not need to clean up his wardrobe. He puts on the shirt and ruffles his hair in the bathroom mirror; he really needs a good lay soon and he won’t masturbate minutes before Woosung is coming to his house; that’s like completely not cool on Jeongguk’s moral scale, looks like he’s going to be stuck with his sexual frustrations for a bit longer. He might as well focus on giving Woosung the proper fun time he’s expecting and ooof kids are tough to impress and satisfy these days.

To Jeongguk’s dismay, he’s greeted with a teary-eyed Woosung hanging from Yoongi’s shoulders. Yoongi is out of breath from giving his son a piggyback ride like he always requests him to do (even if Woosung can stand in the elevator perfectly well on his own). Poor Yoongi, though, cause the kid’s growing a bit too fast.

Yoongi is sporting a hurt look, one that has nothing to do with the struggle he had to go through, and more to do with the tears in his son’s eyes. Jeongguk can see the guilt in his eyes as he gently puts Woosung down from where his head was resting, snot and tears wetting one of Yoongi’s claimed favorite shirts (says it fills him out generously at the chest and slims his waist). Yoongi deserves the snot on it seeing the state of his kid and for cock-blocking Jeongguk today.

“What’s wrong with Woogie? What did you do, you monster?” Jeongguk lifts Woosung up and settles him on his hip, the kid burying his still-wet face into the crease of Jeongguk’s neck and winding his arms tight around it, as Jeongguk rubs his back and gives his little arms butterfly kisses.

Yoongi glares at Jeongguk, pushing inside the apartment to drop the take out bag and Woosung’s backpack on the kitchen island. He’s out of breath and looks unwilling to fight, so he doesn’t reply back, which gives Woosung the chance to do it instead.

“Daddy promised he’d take me to the fair today! But he’s going out with his boyfriend instead!”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows shoot up at the answer and he mouths to the father in question, “You told him about Jimin?”

Yoongi shrugs at that. “I can’t lie to him, he’s my best friend.”

“Okay, ouch, hurtful and unnecessary.” Jeongguk snuggles Woosung closer, supports him with one arm as he uses one of his hands to take off Woosung’s shoes.

“Leave, you imbecile, we do not welcome traitors in this home.” Jeongguk fake yells to show the child that he’s fighting for him. Woosung sniffs in return, letting out a shaky ‘yeah’ from where his face is stuffed into Jeongguk’s neck.

When Yoongi is halfway out the door (after dropping a big, loving kiss on his son’s forehead and whispering “daddy’s sorry” and “I love you”), Jeongguk reaches for the door with his leg and closes it halfway then he hears Yoongi’s exasperated wail from the hallway.

“Do not conspire against me like that! I’ll never hear the end of it from him.” Yoongi shouts from behind the door; Jeongguk can hear his body thump on the door. “Woosung, baby, I’ll make it up to you.”

But Woosung does not reply, much to Jeongguk’s pleasure. “Sung-ah please! I’ll get you ice-cream after school tomorrow.” 

Jeongguk grins back at Woosung who wipes at his eyes and giggles at his dad’s meltdown.

“We’ll negotiate later, for now we shall remain silent.” Jeongguk yells back at the older man, swinging a laughing Woosung on his shoulder to the living room where a snuggly fort is waiting for them and away from the pleading screams of Yoongi for redemption and forgiveness.

“Looks like we’re going to the fair later in the evening, buddy.” Jeongguk singsongs, settling Woosung inside the fort around several dinosaur chocolate snack bags.

“You’re my favorite dad.” Woosung cheers, settling a sloppy and wet kiss on Jeongguk arm and snuggling to it.

(Yoongi ends up calling six times until Woosung agrees to talk to him. He apologizes profusely and reassures his son a billion times that he’s his favorite- which truly offends Jeongguk but he lets it slide. Woosung only lets out a whispered “I love you” which seems to be enough for Yoongi who hangs up to let his boys play house).

●

“I got foooood.” Jimin chants, entering the general designers’ office at Toku interiors, swiping his butt on the glass door, pressing to apply pressure for it to open and Taehyung couldn’t ask for a better angel at the moment.

Namjoon is making Taehyung work extra hours after his own (long, mind you) shift. The audacity. Apparently, he has to compensate for all the hours he came in late to work- which is ridiculous because he is just a tiny bit fashionably-late. That’s his mark, his legacy. Kim Taehyung, fashionably late guy from floor three. He has an image to keep. 

“You can’t keep him at work like that, Joon hyung. Look at him, poor baby.” Jimin pans, pointing at Taehyung who is sitting upside down on his spinning chair; he’s trying to balance a pen on each foot while spinning. It’s an extreme sport.

His forehead might be filled with pen marks from all the times the pens fell and almost blinded him, but it’s better than doing any actual work right now. If Namjoon wants to lock him in, he might as well make the most out of it, or at least the most he can to kill the time.

“I already pulled a lot of strings for this freak show,” Namjoon whisper/shouts from his own office, pointing yet again at Taehyung who’s successfully managed to catch a falling pen with his hand. “But the manager wants to cut down his paycheck if he keeps it up.” Taehyung ends up bumping his head on the side of the desk, he wails in pain at the hit and covers his head, but slips and stumbles down onto the floor with a defeated groan. He stays there, laying like a beat-up corpse, hair on his face and pen in his hand.

Namjoon and Jimin only stare at him, blinking twice to make sure he’s breathing. Once they conclude he’s still alive from his leg twitch, they shift to continue their argument.

“We got bills to pay, Jimin, I won’t let that happen.”

Taehyung turns around to lay on his back, still dizzy from the rotation of the chair, or maybe the concussion he just got. He’s starting to see white spots on the floor (ceiling?) and maybe he should get that checked, or maybe not because he’s a broke bitch but a bad bitch too, so he’ll live through the blindness a bit, it’s cewl. Manageable, too. He can file it as a work-related injury and get that insurance moolah, (there are no injuries that can be sustained from the desk-work part of being an interior designer, apparently. According to the bylaws, at least.) but right now, he needs to eat.

He grunts trying to get up, but at the end of it decides to crawl on the dirty, carpeted floor instead. Why not? His pride could only be smeared so little after that fall. He must reach the fried chicken.

“Taehyung, stop acting like a child and get back to work. You still have 4 hours of unpaid overtime.” Namjoon pokes an unmoving Taehyung who starts eating deep-fried chicken wings while laying on the floor in a starfish position.

Taehyung coughs through a mouth-full of chicken at the third nudge and attempts to stand up “I’ll finish them another day,” he whines, balancing on the desk near him to stand up. “Please, please, please, the fair is today! You can’t do this to me.”

However, Namjoon is unwavering, ducking his head back to resume all the paper work he has to do. He also missed out on work hours trying to successfully keep a fleeing Taehyung from escaping, locking every exit door while dragging dead weight that’s wrapped around his torso. He’s got a headache from all the nagging and squealing pleas Taehyung cried out, and he’s at his tipping point of murdering the young designer.

“Namjoooon-ah! Pleaseeeeeee.” Taehyung’s at it again, but this time he’s got Jimin’s alliance and he can see, by the way Namjoon’s eyes twitch a bit, that it’s working. He must go for something bigger, something efficient now that the HR’s stone-cold heart is cracking.

“I’ll give Seokjin your number.”

Namjoon whips his head up Taehyung’s way with a death stare. He’s out for blood now, and Taehyung might be shaking in his (rip-off designer) boots, but he needs to go to the fair. Instead of running away though, he opts for the braver option- crouching down and curling himself into a ball.

Okay, and it might be a bit dirty (some might even say unfair) to use Namjoon’s undying crush for his brother, but yet again, the fair.

Taehyung is ready to go to any lengths not to miss the fair. Even throwing his own brother under the bus. He’ll shave his head and feed his hair to the spawns of Satan aka the fucking ungodly squirrels that keep attacking him at the park, he’ll run naked in a homeless shelter, he’ll even eat a foot-long sandwich with nothing but mustard and pickle juice in it if he actually misses this fair.

He’s been waiting for it for the last three months- ever since he saw the ad online, squealing at the top of his lungs and swinging out of his bed to run and tell Jimin and Namjoon about it, who were sporting the same horrified look and hands on their chest in the living room watching Blue Earth documentaries on Netflix.

“Come on, Joonie, he already promised to compensate for his hours another day.”  Jimin chimes in too, he attempts to cover a now pouty and crouching Taehyung from a very dangerous Namjoon, who’s got up from his desk, holding very hurtful (he’s had past experiences) files to swat Taehyung. He’ll be fine, with Jimin on his side, the power of God and anime are not required anymore.

“Please!” Taehyung and Jimin whine simultaneously, their famous TKO against Namjoon. They open their mouths to say it again but Namjoon sighs dramatically, brushing his hair out of his face, and retreating back to his office.

“Fine!” He defeatedly nags as he puts the files, his murder weapon of choice, down on his desk again. Taehyung back-hugs a cheerful Jimin, pressing a sloppy kiss on his head.

It’s a win for the gays.

“Thank you, thank you.” He cheers out for Namjoon with each kiss at the blonde’s head.

“But you have to stay overtime tomorrow, no excuses!”

Taehyung detaches from Jimin to give a captain’s salute Namjoon’s way, Jimin giggles in the background shoving chicken bits into his mouth, the office filling out with the smell of teriyaki chicken.

He pops one in his mouth too, moaning at the taste before putting his fist up in the air. “To the fair!” He grabs Jimin’s wrist and pulls. “Let’s go lesbians!” he chants, marching to the doors that were bitterly unlocked by Namjoon, who’s currently grumbling under his breath about having to be stuck spending his evening at a child fair with the two of them.

He’d rather be anywhere really, like at a pub chilling with a beer in his hand, or in his bed reading the book he’s been adamant on finishing for the three and a half years he’s been in Japan.

Jimin, however, stops Taehyung before they get to Namjoon’s car.

“What do you mean you can’t go?” Taehyung stares at his best friend with absolute betrayal, he regrets giving his favorite scrunchy this morning.

“I have a date with Yoongi hyung.”

“Who’s Yoongi hyung?” He asks again, as if Jimin hadn’t spent the past two months fangirling over a specific cat-like human. As if Taehyung hadn’t spoken to the man before, and almost got hit in the shin for meowing and cooing to his face.

“Taehyung, you met him. Please stop acting like this.” Jimin sighs, fishing his car keys out of his pocket.

“I didn’t know it was serious. What’s next? You’re gonna be boyfriends?” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, thinking back to the time when he had went home and saw Jimin and the black-haired cat hybrid cuddling on the couch watching afternoon reruns like a bunch of white middle aged people. Who even watches TV in the afternoon? Old balding people, that’s who. Taehyung greeted the man with, “what are your intentions with my best friend?”, instead of a normal hello like any other sane human would say. The man, Yoongi, shot his eyebrows up in surprise before he said, “only good ones, kid.”, as he looked at Jimin like he had the universe inside him, and Taehyung decided that he’s an okay suit for his Jiminie (besides him completely rejecting to speak cat).

“Well, I sure hope so.” Jimin’s eyes would have turned into two big red hearts if that were possible.

“I can’t believe you’re picking your sugar daddy over me, your soulmate.” He sniffles, pouting as the other rubs his back soothingly.

“Just because he has a little money, doesn’t mean he’s a sugar daddy.” Namjoon steps in at the same time Jimin says, “Just because he has a kid, doesn’t mean he is my daddy.”

“He has a kid?” Taehyung’s eyes bulge out but Jimin can see that he’s starting to soften. Taehyung loves children.

“Yeah. His son is 5. Adorable little baby. I can’t wait to meet him.” The blonde giggles just thinking about the cute little 5 year old boy he has seen in so many pictures on Yoongi’s phone.

“So you didn’t just get yourself a sugar daddy, you went and got yourself a DADDY daddy.” Taehyung sighs in defeat then, looking at his best friend with the best puppy face he could pull, hoping to change his mind.

“Have fun at the fair, you guys. Win me a plushie.” He pats Taehyung’s shoulder, not even close to being swayed by his eyes.

“Why would you even pick a date over the fair? What are you hoping to get out of this betrayal?”

“A good fuck and a boyfriend.” He simply shrugs.

Taehyung scoffs. “As if you haven’t slept with him yet.”

“I haven’t,” the blonde says, “he’s a father and getting him to come on this date with me was an almost impossible feat, so just imagine how hard getting to have sex with him would be. So yes, I want to bury my dick into his ass so bad, and you’re making me late to that. So get into that car and go to the stupid fair and let me go get myself a daddy.”

Namjoon, who’s been standing idly watching the self-proclaimed soulmates bicker, sniggers, then leads Taehyung to the car by his arm, wishing Jimin good luck.

“I’m winning a plushie and keeping it for myself.” Taehyung threatens, but the other just smiles at him softly.

“Okay, baby. Have fun. I love you the mostest.” He drops a kiss on Taehyung’s temple and the younger boy’s front resolves.

“Love you too.” He mutters, and then Namjoon starts the car and they drive away.

Betrayed by his own soulmate, this is how Kim Taehyung (26) goes to the fair.

●

Jeongguk puts Woosung down for a nap right after they finish watching their afternoon cartoons. Knowing that the little boy is sleeping on a full stomach and is exhausted from crying too much with his father, Jeongguk has a feeling that the nap will be no shorter than an hour, so he decides to take a quick shower and get some work done before Woosung wakes up and starts rushing him to the fair.

It’s jarring how fucking weak Jeongguk is for Woosung. The boy can ask for his heart and Jeongguk would reach into his own chest and rip the organ out if it makes Woosung happy. So one tear rolling down the little boy’s cheek (not caused by Jeongguk even) had him agreeing to waste a Friday night at the local fair. Jeongguk was not one for social events, so the idea of him having to entertain a 5 year old in a place jam packed with people of all ages does not sit too well with the auditor. But what Min Woosung wants, he gets, so two hours later, at 7:46 P.M, Jeongguk finds himself at the gates of hell (the local park).

Everything was brightly lit and extremely colorful, even the all-access bracelets that Woosung and Jeongguk were now sporting on their wrists. (They cost a shit-ton of money, but what was Jeongguk supposed to do when Woosung blinked his doe eyes at him? Say no? Not in this household, girlies.)

“What do you wanna do first, buddy?” Jeongguk asks as they maneuver their way through the crowd, hand in hand.

“Tea cups?” Woosung asks, and Jeongguk just nods before trying to locate the bright tea cup ride. After a 5-minute wait in line, Woosung chooses a red and orange tea cup and they shuffle inside it. The dizziness is worth it when Woosung giggles as they go faster; he can barf up his shrimp noodles too, it’s all peachy.

It goes on like this for more than two hours. Woosung chooses the games and Jeongguk says nothing but yes. They play until Woosung spots the Takoyaki booth and his mouth waters. They sit down to eat the hot food, and Jeongguk watches Woosung gobble down his share with a fond smile- kid has got his own swallow-no-chew technique down to perfection.

“Tokki, my nose is cold.” Woosung says after they finish their food and start strolling around. Even with a thick jacket and a beanie over his head, Woosung was slightly shivering from the harsh night air. Jeongguk wants to punch the weather.

Instead, Jeongguk crouches down to his level and cups his face with his hands, rubbing his thumbs over Woosung’s pink-tinted cheeks. “I’ll buy you a hot patch. Are you feeling okay?”

Woosung nods, but squeezes Jeongguk’s face with his tiny hands and brings their noses together, almost aggressively shaking his head left and right to run the tips of their noses together in rapid Eskimo kisses. Jeongguk scrunches his face and giggles, settling his hands on Woosung’s waist to pull him closer and squish him into a bear hug.

Oh my god, the kid will kill him from uwu overdrive someday and it will be proudly stated as his plausible and completely rational cause of death in his obituary.

“You’re killing me!” Woosung giggles when Jeongguk lifts him up and squeezes him even harder. Revenge on the cute.

“No, I’m warming you up, brat.” Jeongguk argues, but loosens his grip on the kid and settles him down on his hip instead, opting to carrying him because Woosung is starting to get lethargic, tiredness and sleepiness getting to him.

“Tokki, can you win me a toy?”

“Of course, baby. Let’s see what we can play.”

Their game of choice turns out to be an obviously-rigged ring toss game. Woosung chooses it because the prizes are different colored lizard plushies, and Woosung’s eyes widen at the blue one. “It looks just like Elizardbeth!” He yells, seeing the obvious resemblance of the toy and his pet gecko.

Yes, Min Yoongi thought it would be a great idea to get his son a gecko as a pet, and above that, he named it Elizardbeth (even though the electric blue gecko is a male).

“To hell with typical pet standards and gender-conforming norms.”- Min Yoongi (2018). Inspiring.

Jeongguk tries his luck around 5 times, paying almost ¥2,000, before he decides to just bribe the man and get the plushie. (If you think that Jeongguk pays an extra ¥3,000 to fake-win a lizard plushie for his 5-year-old kid, then you are absolutely right. He is a weak, weak man.)

With a happy baby and a lighter wallet, Jeongguk decides that it’s time to leave, but as he is about to tell Woosung just that, a voice stops him.

“Hyung! Let’s go on the Ferris-wheel!”

No.

A serious N to the O with serious plot twist sprinkles on top.

It can’t be.

Jeongguk knows that voice all too well. It haunts his dreams, and wakes him up from them. Gives him disgusting wet patches in his boxers and a migraine so bad his ears ring. 

He whips his head around to confirm his suspicion, and there, 3 meters away from him, holding a bright, yellow helium balloon, with his glorious hair in a messy bun at the top of his head, is interphone boy.

“Taehyung, the line is 7 meters long, choose something else.” The man next to interphone boy says, trying to get him to change his mind, but it looks like his efforts are not going to work.

“You’re exaggerating, Joon. The line is moving fast, look.” Interphone boy- or Taehyung, apparently- says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He looks even better up close, with big eyes, soft features, and a golden skin tone. Jeongguk knows that this is not going to be good for his health, but he stares at him some more. (Again, these are all for scientific reasons, you gotta scan your enemy, understand him to know his weaknesses.)

Then it comes to him. This is the perfect opportunity for payback. Taehyung doesn’t know what Jeongguk from apartment 505 looks like, so he won’t recognize him. It’s perfect. He racks him brain for a plan before the imaginary lightbulb above his head lights up. Some stray strands of hair have escaped the man’s hair bun and they now rest on his neck, just beckoning Jeongguk towards them.

He just needs scissors.

“Hey, Woosungie, Tokki wants to buy something from the store, okay? Then we’ll go on the Ferris wheel before we leave.”

Woosung does not protest, so Jeongguk carries him to the gift store, where he finds a box of crayons and arts essentials- like safety scissors. Bingo.

Jeongguk takes the scissors out of the box and carries it in his pocket, then puts Woosung down and walks him to the line at the Ferris wheel. Just to their luck, Taehyung and the man were at the end of the line, so Jeongguk quickly makes his way towards them, and when he’s right behind Taehyung, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t a great idea. Beads of sweat are forming on his covered forehead, how did he even plan on executing this?

Taehyung smells like tangerine and teriyaki chicken. It’s not supposed to be a good combination, but it is, weirdly, and Jeongguk gets the urge to surge forward and lick the exposed skin of Taehyung’s neck where his hair is lifted up, but he doesn’t. That’s major stranger danger on cocaine alert and there are kids in this premise.

Instead, he makes sure that no one is looking, then he carefully picks his scissors up to cut the strand of hair that’s directly in front of him, but Taehyung moves at the last second, and instead of cutting the hair, Jeongguk ends up cutting the string that is holding Taehyung’s balloon.

Oh no, Jeongguk gulps as the helium balloon slowly but surely starts flying up, and suddenly, Taehyung is facing him. It’s probably not the time for it, but the boy has one monolid, how is that possible?  And it’s charmingly covered in yellow glitter. What in the gorgeous creature?

“What the hell, dude?” Taehyung says in Japanese, shocked when he sees the safety scissors still clutched in Jeongguk’s hand.

“Uhm.” Is all Jeongguk can muster. Taehyung is so close. Jeongguk can practically taste the sweetness on his breath. It really is teriyaki.

“Why the fuck did you cut my balloon?”

In any other context, that particular sentence would sound ridiculous coming out of the mouth of a gorgeous specimen, but in this particular instance, Jeongguk is terrified.

“Don’t curse in front of my child.” He opts to saying. Nice suave save there, Jeongguk, definitely going in the books.

“Then don’t be an asshole in front of your child, asshole.” Taehyung says, poking Jeongguk in the chest then swatting his arm.

Jeongguk does not do anything. Just stares at the part of the arm where it stings a bit.

Well, this is going to shit.

“You won’t answer? You cut my balloon! I paid capitalists for it.”

More swats.

“I was actually going for the hair.” Jeongguk regrets his words right after saying them.

“You what?!”

A harsh slap to his chest makes Jeongguk take a step back and notice how people are starting to look at them.

“Uhm, I think we’re just gonna leave now.”

“No you’re not,” Taehyung screeches before grabbing Jeongguk by his wrist. He wrestles the scissors out of his grip, accidentally cutting the skin of his forefinger.

“Dude!” Jeongguk rips his hand out of Taehyung’s (warm) grip and sucks his finger into his mouth to stop the bleeding.

Taehyung looks smug and not guilty at all, kind of proud for his petty strike. “Sorry, I was going for the throat, or maybe I should’ve done that with the balloon string instead.”

“You’re fucking psycho.” Jeongguk scoffs, noticing how the man who’s with Taehyung is just trying to look small by standing very still and hiding his face in his palms.

“I thought we shouldn’t curse in front of your child?” Taehyung’s snarky comment makes Jeongguk roll his eyes.

But Taehyung takes him at his fragile state, he lunges at him as he tries to wrap the string around his neck.

“Oh my God, you’re literally actually insane.” Jeongguk manages to spin them around, grabbing Taehyung in a headlock, if only he had the scissors. He scans for their location, and sees that they are sprawled on the dirty floor beside them. He’s already in deep, might as well go for it. People are definitely staring, he might as well give them something worthy.

“If Woosung picks up Japanese curse words, I’ll hunt you down and murder you,” Jeongguk threatens, extending his leg to reach for the scissors. But Taehyung quickly follows the attempt and elbows him in the pancreas, surprisingly accurate.

Okay, but this is getting ridiculous and not worth it.

Then, “Come on, Sungie. We’re leaving.” Jeongguk pushes the boy away from him, ready to dramatically walk away, however, there is a minor fault in his plan.

Woosung is no longer next to him. Or anyone for that matter.

“Woosung?” He says out loud, frantically looking around to find his little buddy, but he couldn’t see through the people.

“You lost your child?” Taehyung asks, fixing his now messy hair and then punching Jeongguk in the shoulder because a faint sense of panic was settling over him.

“You made me lose my child!” Jeongguk yells, pushing Taehyung out of his way and running into the crowd, frantically yelling Woosung’s name. He notices Taehyung running after him, but he pays him no mind as fear strikes him.

He lost Woosung. That’s literally all that matters right now.

“Sungie! Baby, where are you?” Jeongguk pushes through people trying to think about where Woosung would be.

He can feel his heart drumming against his ribcage, and his hands are shaking from the panic, but he continues running forward until he sees the little boy he’s looking for, red beanie moving through the crowd.

“Woosung!” He yells after him and moves faster, his eyes following Woosung who enters the gift store.

“Mister, I need bandaids! Tokki hurt his finger!”

Jeongguk stops dead in his track when he hears Woosung’s tiny voice say in weak Japanese. Woosung is pulling at the shirt of the employee in the vest to get his attention, and when he does, he reaches into the pockets of his jacket and pulls out the only ¥100 coin Jeongguk knows he has. He offers it to the employee who is looking at him with a fond smile.

“Sungie.” Jeongguk calls out to the little boy, a little out of breath, but relieved nonetheless. He feels the panic wash out of his chest and melt down to his feet as he crouches down beside the kid who runs into his open arms.

“Tokki. Is your finger still bleeding?”

“Woosung. Never run away from me like that? You got it? Never!” Jeongguk doesn’t notice that his voice is getting harsher until he sees Woosung’s frown.

“But you hurt your finger. I wanted to get bandaids.” The little boy says, little beads forming at the edge of his deer-like eyes and mixing between his eyelashes.

The sight of Woosung crying makes Jeongguk’s chest hurt, so he collects him into his arms and litters his face with kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. You were just trying to help. But you made me scared when I couldn’t find you next to me. You know that leaving Tokki’s side is dangerous, so you shouldn’t have done it. My finger is okay, buddy.” Jeongguk says in a soft voice, his hand rubbing Woosung’s back soothingly.

Woosung buries his face into Jeongguk’s neck and whispers an apology, and when the employee comes back with a Hello Kitty bandaid, he wipes his frown and thanks the man like the polite mannered pooch that he is. He then carefully applies the bandaid onto Jeongguk’s finger, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, just like his father.

It was a couple of minutes later when Jeongguk notices Taehyung and his friend lingering by the door, looking dejected and sorry. He doesn’t know what to do, so Taehyung speaks first.

“I’m sorry,” he says, in Korean. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

Jeongguk doesn’t trust his voice because it will crack with how dry his throat is. He should feel apologetic too, since he’s the one who started this all, but he opts to holding Woosung tighter on his hip and swinging out of the store and the fair all at once.

The venomous stare Taehyung gives him is one to haunt him in his nightmares for sure, as if he didn’t already occupy his place in all his wet dreams. And great, now he knows how he sounds like.

(Yoongi finds out about the incident by mistake 3 days later, and flicks Jeongguk’s forehead repeatedly until Jeongguk is on the verge of tears. He gets an earful, but he knows he deserves it. His pettiness almost cost him Woosung’s safety, after all.)

-

Did Jeongguk ever mention that he would gladly skin a specific golden skinned individual and then wear his skin as a celebration? Maybe run in circles with his fists up in the air, yelling “Yeah, capitalists!” while he’s at it.

Maybe he doesn’t want to particularly do that, it would be horrific for both ends, but he would like to relentlessly poke the dude at the same spot for hours until it forms a good purple bruise. The worst of all punishments.

Jeongguk stands on the balcony in his sleepy state looking down incredulous: how can the dude come back after the fair tackle, what kind of audacity? He is about to yell at him for it but he quickly remembers that the apartment-Jeongguk identity is actually unknown to the other downstairs who’s currently karate chopping air Yuta’s way.

“Lame fucking moves!” Jeongguk yells before clasping his mouth with both his hands and cursing internally for speaking, the dude knows his voice now. He winces when he peers an eye and sees that the boy was now staring towards his balcony with a stare of confusion. His eyes squinting and mouth dangling open as if his head is doing some next level decoding to try and familiarize his voice to a person.

Luckily though, that gave Yuta the chance to lunge at him Randy Orton style and they both hit the asphalt groaning. They got him.

“Yes!!!” Jeongguk yells once again, before falling to plant his face on the ground like some over the top face palm. He has got to control himself or else he’ll be exposed. 

He can hear the other two shout at each other as they most probably, Jeongguk guesses, are rolling on the ground.

“Tomorrow I’m coming with a fucking speakerphone, mark my words, nemesis.”

He can hear the faint groans from Yuta as he yells for help.

Oh no. for the 500^th time in these past few days

-

The stare-down is intense, and maybe Jeongguk is shaking in his boots right now but it’s too late, they’re too far in. He knew what was coming when he got into this, god damn it he knew the stakes were high. So he sticks up for the challenge and squints as possible as he can but the other is ruthless and does the same effortlessly.

Little beads of sweat form near his ear and he can feel himself almost break, but no! He shall not call for defeat. He shall not lose another lick off like this, his pride is already damaged from January 13^th of last year.

The lemon ice cream is cool and sour in his mouth as it melts on his tongue and digs into his cheeks. The choice of ice cream was bad enough, but Woosung is also a very persistent and competitive asshole.

Yes, he called his non-kid kid an asshole, so what? Call child services on his ass.

It might be stupid what they’re doing (not the lick off, it’s never a stupid idea) eating ice-cream late November, but what Woosung asks for, Woosung gets. Especially after the scarring incident at the unnamed fair last month. 

“Give it up,” lick, “Woosung-ah,” another lick. “I will win this time.” Jeongguk firmly says, his eye twitching at the slight brain freeze he’s getting but the kid looks un-phased, Yoongi’s scarf wrapped carefully around his neck and engulfing half of his being. Still, he looks up at Jeongguk with that fierce glint in his eyes and licks through his half-finished cheese cake ice cream.

Jeongguk has been teased enough. He smirks back at the kid, going for the all-kill lick but he feels a sturdy hand grabbing at his ice cream and before he can process it he’s licking a person’s hand.

He hears the owner yelp in disgust and it clicks right there. He feels hell’s fire burn in his pit at the sound of that yelp; he fucking knows that yelp- he’s heard it multiple times in the morning.

Jeongguk whips his head so fast he sees white from the whiplash but as his vision refocuses he can see the bunned individual sprint towards the ice cream store’s exit.

“Hey, Tokki! Isn’t that the mister fro-”

He grabs Woosung from his chair so fast, thanking the lords he decided to pay for his ice cream as it was being served. He collects their belongings from the table and sprints out of the shop after him.

He can see his figure still, power walking between the people walking at the side walk and Jeongguk marches as safe as he can with a kid on his waist towards him.

“Give me my ice cream back, you thief!” Jeongguk yells and the asshole whips his head towards them, but instead of replying he starts walking faster, pushing through the crowd a bit less politely and Jeongguk follows suit.

He can see that his ice cream is starting to melt on the other’s hand and he cringes in disgust, he probably won’t eat it afterwards but it’s not about eating it, it’s about getting it back and shoving it in the guy’s shiny, highlighted face.

But that goal is destroyed as soon as Taehyung opens his absurdly big mouth and inhales it all in one go.

Jeongguk growls in frustration at that, bouncing a giggling Woosung whose hair is bouncing all around and is probably finding this amusing a little higher on his hip and jogging murderously towards the other.

“fhat are fou funna fucking fo abouf if.” Taehyung says with a full mouth of ice cream, jogging as the light for the intersection turns red midway for people. Jeongguk hangs frustrated on the other side as cars zoom between him and the devil with the bun.

“I told you no swearing in front of my kid!”

Taehyung laughs victoriously at the sight “ha-ha I wi-” he yells back but chokes immediately midway, a brain freeze Jeongguk thinks, as he clutches his head and winces in pain.

“Tokki, what does fucking mean?”

Oh no, no no no no.

(Jeongguk gets banned from taking Woosung out for a whole week after Woosung runs towards his dad who is cooking dumplings in the kitchen when they get home to tell him what happened and asks him the question Jeongguk begged him not to repeat.)

-

“You’re going with us, and that’s that.” Yoongi power-walks towards Jeongguk who’s about to close his bedroom door; his bare footsteps echo on the wooden floor towards Jeongguk, and it sounds like a duck sprinting. Yoongi squeezes himself into the little distance between the door and the wall and slides into the sighing boy’s space.

“If you’re planning on avoiding me, at least give me my child back.” Yoongi huffs, scooping a pre-occupied Woosung into his arms from where he’s nestled cozily on his blanket nest on the fluffy carpet beside Jeongguk’s bed, lollipop in his mouth. Jeongguk frowns at that; he was planning on having a cuddling session with Woosung after finishing the puzzle they set on the floor, but of course mister come-with-us-to-our-hometown-for-Christmas-break had to come home early and ruin the fun for everyone. There go Jeongguk’s Friday night plans.

Lately Jeongguk hasn’t been feeling it down the sexy department, so he’s opted to cuddling Woosung whenever he can, an excellent agreement that coincides with Yoongi’s increasing sex life. Jeongguk can safely say that his last hook up was roughly about two months ago. After his weird wet dreams with satan’s offspring started, his sex drive has decreased sharply down into obsolete- he even stopped hitting on Yuta at which the latter asked him in panic one day when he was off to work whether it was because he got fat or not.

Like if you were to draw a graph, his sex life would correlate negatively to his wet dreams about Taehyung. The more dreams the less sex. It’s math, so it’s true.

Jeongguk decides to blame the negative slope of his sex life on his tiredness. Yes, he’s very fucking tired and his irrational crippling fear of Jeongguk Jr. not rising to glory during, or suddenly falling asleep in the middle of, sexy town; that would be the worst experience of his life. Jeongguk is at his prime and nothing can take that away from him- it would destroy him and his reputation. It has nothing to do with that donut head, Jeongguk is dead ass sure, positive, would put his money on it.

Yoongi came baring food initially, which was suspicious by itself but after they were done munching on their seafood pizzas, Yoongi dropped the question. Jeongguk grimaced at the offer firstly but softened his features when he realized Woosung was excitedly waiting for his answer.

“Yoongles, you know I can’t.” Jeongguk looks conflicted with a pouting Woosung hanging on his father’s hip. “I have so much work I’m behind on, plus the design company will be remodeling my living room during the break.”

“You can do the work at my parents’ house; it’s quiet, great for concentration.” Yoongi says as he switches Woosung to his other hip.

“What about my living room?” Jeongguk asks, walking towards his bed with the two Mins in tow.

“The guy who will be remodeling your living room is Jimin’s friend, that’s why I recommended him.” Yoongi argues back, but Jeongguk still looks unconvinced. “Hoseok will take care of it while you’re away. He’s getting his family to tour around Japan for the holidays instead of going back to Gwangju this year.”

“I don’t know, Yoongi, it’s rude to ask him to leave his family like that.” Jeongguk drops on his bed to face the ceiling; it’s better than staring at the two cute shitheads pouting at him. Woosung is adorable enough, but to have Yoongi’s pinched brows and puckered lips directed at him as well, it’s surely going to make him succumb. 

Yoongi’s pout has always been Jeongguk’s weak point, especially during college, that’s why he always takes the bad side of the bed (squished between the wall and Yoongi) and has his fries half eaten.

“I already asked him and he has no problem, actually. Plus, he’ll only be dropping the guy your keys and giving him a tour around what needs to and what doesn’t need to be altered.” Yoongi drops Woosung on the bed.

Jeongguk rolls around onto his stomach with an exasperated groan at his pre-decided defeat. Woosung climbs on him and sprawls himself on Jeongguk’s back.

“I know you’re not big on celebrating the holidays, we get it, mister atheist. You’re cool and what not, don’t wanna ride the basic wave, but you really need this break, Gguk. You’ve been complaining about lack of sleep and quiet for months now.” Yoongi rakes his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair once, twice, before he settles on petting it gently.

He does have a point there; Jeongguk’s has been feeling extremely disoriented these days- accidentally putting salt instead of sugar in his coffee, or sitting on someone’s desk instead of his because he swears they all look the same. Yoongi gave him the “On god?” look but Jeongguk swears his reasons were valid ones. Still are.

“We’ll cuddle you if you say yes, right, Sungsung?” Yoongi tries his last weapon.

“Yes!” Woosung says cheerfully, pausing his lollipop licking in favor of speaking.

“Oh my god, you two play dirty and I am a weak man.” Jeongguk mumbles through a face full of mattress. He feels the heavy dip of an extra body on it, then two extra arms wrapping around his back.

“Knew you’d accede.” Yoongi says smugly, snuggling into Jeongguk’s collar bone after dropping a kiss on a Jeongguk who is sporting a scandalized look.

“Me too!” Woosung squeals before dropping another kiss on Jeongguk’s cheek, imitating his father. Jeongguk’s features soften at that, his ears blushing pink at the extra affection he’s receiving. He turns around to look at Yoongi, whose features are pretty much mirroring his own.

“Your kid knows what accede means?” He mouths at him only getting a shrug from Yoongi.

“Kid’s an intellectual.”

Lowkey but like also high-key, Jeongguk is glad he got this end of the bargain at least.

(His Friday night plans don’t get ruined as predicted, just delayed by unnecessary disagreement. Yoongi drops forehead kisses on both, a half drooling Jeongguk and a very knocked out Woosung, before going to his date.

Sex whom, anyway? Min Yoongi is missing out on all the fun right here.)

●

Taehyung stares up smugly at the designated building’s back view in all its tall glory, hugging his meter close to heart, and debating how many kittens (he’s a cat person) he had saved in his past life to deserve an opportunity like this.

Life does, indeed, have its twisted ways of aligning things to Taehyung’s favor at very rare occasions, and this is definitely one of them.

Taehyung is sprawled on top of the many pastel color palettes and wallpaper prints he had to go through for a project he’s working on when his manager walks in with a file in hand. She walks directly towards Taehyung and slaps the folder on his desk, instead of announcing the project out loud for volunteers.

“Tennoji-Ku district?” Taehyung repeats slowly, staring at his manager with sparkling eyes after she tells him about the content of the folder. She stares back at him with confusion, taking a step away from Taehyung with squinting eyes, “Yes…”

Taehyung licks his dry lips at that, “Aha, yes cool, cool, indeed, splendid.” He tries to play it cool, he mustn’t reveal his secrets yet, it also doesn’t necessarily mean THAT building, but Tennoji-Ku district is known for its scarce and luxurious buildings, so the probability is still high.

“It states here that you were personally requested for the job.” Taehyung wheezes at that.

Keep it cool, keep it cool, god damn it.

“Requested? How superb, very much so.” He’s definitely failing at keeping it cool.

He dunks his head back into the color palettes, grabbing them with excitement, the edges digging into his palm. This means nothing.

“He doesn’t know where you work, Taehyung, or what you do,” he thinks to himself, “and there are many exclusive buildings in the district. It means nothing.”

 Taehyung gulps, his throat dry, when his manager crosses her arms over her chest, sporting the same confused look from seconds before. “Taehyung, what is going on?”

“Nothing!” Taehyung semi-shrieks, he clears his throat staring up his manager, putting on his best smile.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Taehyung repeats, nodding a bit too violently, his bun loosening up a bit.

“Whatever it is, Taehyung, and I hope this is just one of your episodes. I need you to not fuck this up, the person is willing to pay generously for your service.” His manager says. Taehyung snorts at that, anyone in that district is willing to pay ‘generously’ for anything.

To Taehyung’s dismay but also relief, the work file states that he will not actually meet the owner of the apartment, however,  he will be meeting an acquaintance who will guide him through what work and enhancements that need to be done to the apartment (he’s also the same person who put in the specific request for Taehyung). The file includes the requests and changes the customer needs alongside pictures of the living room. What Taehyung can figure out from the picture is that the walls need immediate re-coloring; the white walls seeming stark and bland and there are evident chipping on the connecting points to the ceiling. The room also seems to be lacking color arrangement, with the most dominant of those being black. Taehyung snorts as the thought ‘deading room’ crosses his mind, if Namjoon were to hear him say it he would definitely get a smack on the head. At the end of the file are the contacts of the acquaintance and the payment details.

Taehyung ends up immediately emailing that person, a certain Jung Hoseok, requesting they meet at a coffee shop near the district in order to finalize the agreement.

The work, Taehyung estimates, will take roughly three to four days which enables him to go to Daegu on time for Christmas. Taehyung claps his hands at the instant reply he receives; Hoseok confirming the date and time for their meeting as fits both.

Taehyung wastes no time gathering up his palettes and packing quickly to head to Ikea. That’s one of Taehyung’s favorite parts of his job, going to Ikea and sending every furniture pun possible to Jimin, who replies with threats of disowning him and pleas to stop- however, he does laugh at one or two and that’s what is most worth it for Taehyung at the end.

The second favorite part of the job for Taehyung is the artistic freedom that some clients entrust him with. The thrill of having a room-sized canvas which he can paint and reassemble as he, through his own tasteful eye, would desire. The thrill of the risk he is taking; whether the client would be satisfied or not, and especially the challenge of matching exotic pieces together or creating a certain atmosphere with mentioned pieces that the client requests. The endless colors and creative designs that serve as an option, all right under the tip of his fingers, being both overwhelming and liberating at the same time. Taehyung is sometimes caught dreaming of the way a room would configure and look like, his mind so absorbed within his designs it manifests its way into his unconsciousness, usually forcing him to wake up at awkward moments of the night to sketch and note it all down before the memory of it is gone. Not many are as privileged to get their stimulus from dreams, but Taehyung has found a way around it. Taehyung often jokes about his hair being the reason behind it, that his unconscious imagery entangles in his long locks before it can escape. A literal dream catcher of his own.

“These are the copy of the keys you need, both the key to the backdoor parking and the key to the apartment.” Hoseok cheerfully says, his curls bouncing with every word pronounced. They are sat at the coffee shop, and Taehyung had discussed everything with Hoseok. To Taehyung’s joy, Hoseok is Korean. He did deduce that from the name, but Taehyung wasn’t sure if the other would be fluent in Korean or not. (He is, much to Taehyung’s delight.)

Taehyung smiles gratefully at the other, putting the keys in his bag. “Of course, you do not need to enter from the back, but figuring that you will be dealing with a lot of delivered furniture, it is best fitting that you have that key as well.”

Taehyung nods in understanding, sipping more of the coffee that Hoseok insisted on buying. Taehyung and him chat more about the apartment arrangements, Hoseok mentioning that he will be present in Japan during in case he is needed and how the client is actually in Korea at the moment for the holidays, which explains the current arrangement of things. Hoseok signs the contract on behalf of the owner of the apartment, and Taehyung does not notice the name. Hoseok insists that Taehyung buys cake and offers to give him a ride.

“It’s better if I drive you there the first time, I insist. That way you wouldn’t get lost next time when you go alone.”

“Thank you so much, Hoseok-sii.” Taehyung says, putting on his seat belt.

“Please, call me hyung. I’m assuming you’re younger than me?” Hoseok glanced at Taehyung.

“I’m 26.” Taehyung provides and Hoseok nods, because he is older.

Hoseok’s smile is one of the brightest and most peculiar smiles Taehyung has seen in his…lifetime; his lips stretch to extend a heart-shaped smile, a perfect depiction of the man’s energy and hospitality within.  

When they reach their destination, Taehyung almost shrieks at the sight of Yuta at the door. It’s the fucking building. THE building. Taehyung cannot believe the trick that his eyes are pulling on him. It can’t be true, no. This is all the projection of Taehyung’s desires establishing into a realistic delusion of some sort.

He finds himself ducking from Yuta’s sight before realizing that Hoseok’s windows are actually tinted. Hoseok catching on to his demeanor, and eventually laughing at Taehyung.

“Yeah I know, my friend likes to live a bit on the luxurious side.” Taehyung smiles wearily at him sensing the awkwardness he’s emitting. He straightens up at that, grabbing on his seatbelt tightly. Hoseok’s car slows down at the entrance and before Hoseok reaches for the keys to kill the engine Taehyung can’t help but panic.

“No! Not here!” he yells, his hand swinging to stop Hoseok from twisting the key of his Mercedes.

“No?” Hoseok replies, a bit conflicted. He looks around as if to discover what’s wrong but Taehyung is quick to recover.

“Yeah, hah you see, don’t you think it’s better if you show me the backdoor? I mean that’s where I’ll be working the most.”

Hoseok’s mouth forms an o, as if understanding Taehyung. He smoothes out his eyebrows, as he takes it more into thought. Nodding before steering the wheel towards where Taehyung predicts would be the underground parking lot of Kogane No Basho building.

Taehyung sighs in relief, souring slightly as they pass the no pets sign hanging on the parking entrance, leaving outside, an unsuspecting Yuta who is watering the dragon plants that grace the main entrance.

Hoseok parks his car in a specific spot which Taehyung assumed belongs to the owner of the apparent, but Taehyung doesn’t have time to read the apartment’s number before the car blocks it.

He is in, we repeat, he is within enemy grounds.

Life never really aligns for Taehyung, but when it does, and as rare as that is, it goes out of its way to make sure Taehyung lives it out fully and to the extreme. That’s why he almost bangs his head in excitement on the elevator door, turning cherry red in the ears as he suppresses the screams when Hoseok presses the 5 button of the building.

Okay, Taehyung, calm down. There are, like, 10 apartments on each floor, you can’t be THAT lucky.

“This floor only has 5 apartments because they’re larger than the average apartment. This kid’s a spender. He lives alone, but he insisted on a huge ass apartment.” Hoseok explains when they get off the elevator and Taehyung can only nod. They walk towards the left, and low and behold, 505.

Taehyung shrieks. He literally shrieks, and Hoseok looks at him weird but then Taehyung shows him his box grin and Hoseok kind of melts. You’d expect Taehyung to stop, but he really doesn’t.

Hoseok laughs at his demeanors, Taehyung screaming, “Yeah! Let’s get this bread.” when Hoseok turns around to see his fists punching air in excitement (and glory because after this. It’s official, Taehyung wins this bitchin’ war.). Taehyung has got to learn how to keep a straight façade. (Who’re we kidding? Taehyung is extra gay he can never straight.)

When Hoseok invites him in and shows him around the house, he goes over the exact details and areas of issue, clarifying to Taehyung his limitations but the latter is barely listening, hanging behind Hoseok, buzzing with exhilaration and anticipation, his eyes scanning every perimeter and area he can possibly mess with. Resident 505 is going to enjoy his new neon chic boutique.

Hoseok explains that the owner had locked the rooms that he does not need to change so it would make Taehyung’s work easier. Taehyung gets a little disappointed because his evil masterplan involved messing with Mr. 505’s bed, but beggars can’t be choosers, he assumes.

Taehyung smiles as he follows Hoseok to the door when the latter claims that he has to leave, bidding him goodbye and bowing 90 degrees to thank him for his help. Once the door is closed and secured, Taehyung rolls on the ground in victory, running over to the living room with murderous eyes, jumping on the couches. He drinks some of the banana milk he finds in the fridge, almost choking on it as he spots the interphone hanging monotonously beside the door. After a good hour or two of glorious snooping, he spreads himself out on the fluffy carpet of 505’s living room and starts sketching out his elaborate and personified design.

“The couch will remain leather, the carpet becomes a gray fur, the pillows will be remakes of iconic paintings like the Mona Lisa, the scream, and other Van Gogh paintings that will give some life and compliment the neon wall,” Taehyung says out loud to himself, messily writing down notes. “The table will be made of white crystal like the actual crystal the rocks and stuff that are sparkly that will complement the gray of the carpet. Maybe I should add a throw blanket to add color. Ah yes.”

Taehyung is evil, and he does want to mess with the man, but he still takes his job seriously, and he is getting paid a shit ton of money for this project, so he works hard on making that living room the best goddamn living room in Japan (with a neon green wall, but still.)

The first thing Taehyung does is repaint the walls, making the most spacious one neon green, while the others are a soft shade of off-white, after fixing the chipping, of course. After the basics are done, Taehyung empties the living room and reuses some of the furniture; he uses the too-small table as a side piece, and keeps the TV because it looks expensive as hell. Taehyung puts an elaborate desk-like piece beside the window, so that Mr. 505 can use it for his work; Taehyung had asked Hoseok about the owner’s job and learned that he is an auditor. Corporate devil, no surprise there.

Taehyung then spends a whole day being artistic. He adds eccentric pieces of art to the tables, adds some paintings to the white walls, and for the green wall, he decides to do something special. He got an empty golden frame, not intending to put anything inside it, and instead of drilling it to the wall, Taehyung decided to hang it from the ceiling with a sturdy golden string. It’s just an optical illusion, to make the frame seem as if it’s floating, but Taehyung thinks it is genius.

Taehyung spends 12-hours/day for 4 days in apartment 505. He avoids Yuta and spills his heart into his work, and by the end of the job, he leaves a note in the corner of the empty frame written on a torn piece of paper.

Checkmate, 505. Let the invisible hand save you now.

On the 5^th day, Taehyung gives the keys back to Hoseok in the coffee shop, and heads straight to the airport with Jimin and Namjoon after. He receives a text from Hoseok a couple of hours later, full of laughing emojis and a disclaimer:

“It weirdly looks amazing, but you drank his banana milk and painted his wall green. I am not responsible for any repercussions.”

Taehyung is not so worried, especially for his job, because this is a personal battle and 505 knows that. But he is dying to see his reaction.

—

Daegu looks gray.

Taehyung has always thought that it did, and that was probably one of the reasons why hauling a suitcase all the way to Japan wasn’t that hard for him.

When Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon parted ways at Incheon airport, Taehyung had a 10-minute internal debate on whether he should board his plane to Daegu or just fuck it all and stay with his friends and their families in Seoul instead (Jimin’s family moved to Seoul when his younger brother started college).. He almost did it- stayed- with one foot inside the gate’s waiting area, and one foot out, but then he remembered that he hasn’t seen his siblings in almost 2 whole years, so he braved himself and boarded the connecting flight to Daegu like he is supposed to.

Daegu is still dull and pastel, like it has always been- almost sad. Taehyung still smiles big and still greets everyone nicely and still looks like a sore thumb, sticking out in his bright reds and purples amongst all the gray around him.

It’s monochrome gray, not even different shades. Just one, murky and smokey and suffocating all the same.

Taehyung enjoys the few days leading up to Christmas. He shops for gifts for his whole family durning, hand-wrapping the gifts in colorful wrapping paper and leaving small notes to each family member. He liked doing that. Putting heart into all he did.

Now, he stands in his old house’s tiny kitchen, watching his family move around him like bees in a hive, buzzing as they get the Christmas dinner going. The whole extended family is coming over, and although Taehyung loves everyone, that does not include his extended family.

“Oh, you grew that ugly hair even more,” is what greets Taehyung as soon as he turns around to see his aunts and uncles and their kids filtering through the front door. “At least it’s not purple anymore.”

Taehyung smiles despite wanting to sucker punch his aunt in the nose, and he makes sure to accidentally let his hair fall out of his bun and slap a couple of people in the face as it sways around his face. And so dinner goes like this, jabs and comments made at Taehyung and Taehyung only, even though there are 14 others who could be picked on. But dinner still goes, and Taehyung still downs half a bottle of red wine all on his own, and he and Seokjin still yell at their uncle for a homophobic comment he makes despite everyone knowing fully well that both Kim brothers are as gay as they can get.

Everything in Daegu goes like this, until New Year’s eve, when Taehyung wears a chiffon black shirt with baggy black pants and red shoes. He has bright red lipstick on, and his eyelids are sparkling bright orange. His father gives him a disapproving look but says nothing.

Everything implodes at around 10:30 PM, when a family friend asks Taehyung about his job and Taehyung shrugs and says, “It’s okay.”

“How was the promotion? You mother said you were sure to get one one.” She prods on, and Taehyung grimaces because not even his mother knows that he was did not get any promotion.

“I, uh,” he says, trying to avoid the answer but his mother is burning holes into the side of his head and the person who asked him is smiling weirdly at him. “I didn’t get it.” He finally says, after what felt like an eternity of silence.

“Oh,” the woman then says, but her smile stays and Taehyung wants to empty his glass of rum over her head and watch it wipe away. “That’s okay, dear. Not everyone has a fast progress in their careers. My Myungsoon got a promotion 6 months into his job, though. But I’m sure you’ll get yours soon.”

“Fuck your Myungsoon, bitch.” Is what Taehyung does not mean to say out loud but still does anyway.

A collective gasp resounds around the room, but Taehyung ignores it and tries to leave the room but his mother’s glare keeps him rooted.

“Hyerim-ssi, will you excuse us for a moment? Taehyung and I need to do something important.” Seokjin butts in and drags his brother by the sleeve into the nearest bedroom. A few seconds later, their mother barges in with smoke coming out of her ears.

“Kim Taehyung! What were you thinking?” She yells, and Taehyung just shrugs. “My god, she’s going to go around telling everyone about this! People are going to know that my own child is unmannered and rude!”

“Oh yeah, what a dreadful thing it would be.” Taehyung says sarcastically.

“What has gotten into you? First you say you did not get the promotion that you were very sure you’re going to get and now you’re acting like a toddler? Is this what going to Japan was to you? Is this why we wasted our money?” His mother is livid, and he can tell from the way the vein in her forehead is prominent.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking money. Don’t fucking dare make this about you. I worked with my arms and legs to get to where I want to be, and you did nothing but question my choices all along. I’m fucking trying my hardest, mother, and I sure as hell wasn’t waiting for a stuck-up bitch and her son to taunt me. That promotion is everything I work for day and night, but what would you know? You never ask how I’m doing, all you fucking care about is your fucking reputation.” Taehyung spits out, squaring his shoulders to seem big because in reality, he was feeling small as fuck.

“You ran away from home in a teenage angst phase and you want to tell me that you worked hard? This life you lead is nothing but a product of your irresponsible and rash decisions. Look at you! You look like you don’t even know who you are! Lipstick and flashy clothes and that damn hair you keeping growing out! You’re good for nothing. You’ve been in the same place for 4 years. You haven’t progressed in your career and I am pretty sure you are living off of your friends!” His mother’s words felt like kicks to his shins- painful as hell but he wouldn’t say that out loud.

“You know what, mom? Fuck you. You never liked any decision I made. I wanted to study fashion and you forced me into design. I wanted Seoul but you kept me here in this shit town even though our family could afford the school I wanted. You were so fucking mad when I chose Japan and don’t forget how you acted when I came out to you. You think this is how I wanted to live for the rest of my life? In Seokjin’s shadow? Because everything he does is okay but God forbid you support my lifestyle,” Taehyung couldn’t hear how his voice was cracking because the buzzing in his ears was louder, but he did feel the hot tear tracks on his face. “I might not be progressing as fast as others, but my customers love what I give them. They love me. My friends love me. The people I annoy? They love me too. But not you. You couldn’t ever do it, you know why? Because I was always opposite to what you wanted me to be. Because I put a stain on your reputation and you hate that! God, you hate that so much you tell people whatever you want to make them see me in a better light,” he stops to sniffle and aggressively wipe the tears away from his eyes. “But guess what, mom? I live with two other men in a tiny apartment in a shady neighborhood in Japan and I arrive to work 10-minutes late every day because I waste my time annoying the same two people because that’s the only way I can fucking force myself to wake up each morning. I don’t give a shit what that bitch Hyerim thinks and I don’t give a shit what you think, either.” Taehyung takes one last look at his mother’s stunned face before he pushes past her and makes his way to the door.

“Happy new year.” He says to Seokjin, who has been standing quietly throughout the whole conversation, apparently siding with his mom.

Taehyung ignores his name being called as he grabs his coat, phone, and wallet from his room and leaves the house. He doesn’t even know where he is planning on going or register that the weather is fucking freezing, he just starts walking away from home because that’s the only thing he wants to do right now.

Soon enough, Taehyung finds himself in the place where it all started. There are more dicks and middle fingers, and more neon greens and yellows, but the same sentence still sits snugly between some badly-drawn hairy balls and what Taehyung is sure is the attempt of caricaturing Kim JongUn- “One must know conflict and un-comfort in order to progress and mature in life.”

Taehyung stares at the words, unblinking, until his eyes dry up and he can’t take it anymore, so he blinks, but when he opens his eyes again, everything is gray.

Oh.

Taehyung doesn’t know how long he stands there, but soon enough, the sky lights up in fireworks and Taehyung knows that the new year has come.

So he walks back into the middle of town, and he takes the bus two towns over, then a cab around town until he finds a barber shop that is still open. It’s a shabby hole-in-the-wall place; the sign above the door signaling “open” in buzzing fluorescent white and barely hanging on its hinges.

Taehyung pushes the door open and bows 90 degrees to the old man at the front desk.

“I didn’t expect any customers tonight,” the old man says, fixing the robe around Taehyung’s neck. “Is this haircut so urgent that it had to be done on New Year’s?”

Taehyung hums and nods, then says, “If you weren’t expecting customers, then why is your shop still open?”

The old man laughs, then takes the rubber band out of Taehyung’s hair and lets it fall down his shoulders. It’s past his shoulder blades, falling in soft waves and framing his face just like he wants it to; he’s been growing it for almost 3 years now, taking care of it and grooming it.

“This is some nice hair you have, son. Are you sure you want to cut it all?”

Taehyung doesn’t trust himself to speak so he just nods, and watches as the man pats his head once, twice, before he goes to fetch the scissors. When he comes back, he bunches Taehyung’s hair in a low ponytail but Taehyung stops him. “Wait,” he says, panic bubbling in his chest. The man lets his hair fall back onto his shoulders, and Taehyung stares at it, memorizes how it looks like, runs his fingers through it, then sits back into his chair and nods at the man.

The old man resumes his work, and Taehyung closes his eyes as he hears the scissors going through his hair.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

Then his head feels lighter, and he opens his eyes to a bunch of tied hair being places on the counter in front of him.

Taehyung almost cries then and there- maybe he does a little, and maybe the old man says nothing about it as he cuts his hair even shorter so it would stop right around his ears.

Taehyung leaves the shop at half past 1:00 in the morning, and he walks to the bus stop and sits there alone for ten whole minutes before an empty bus stops in front of him. Getting home takes him another 30 minutes, and when he walks inside, his parents and siblings are in the living room looking solemn. No one says anything, but everyone is looking at Taehyung’s hair, and his mother just stares and stares until Taehyung walks to his room and shuts the door.

By 6:00 AM, he’s on his way back to Japan.

The first thing Taehyung does after landing in Japan is text Jimin about it.

bck home in jpn. happy new year

Jimin asks what’s wrong, asks if he should take an early flight back home, but Taehyung says ‘nothing’, he says no, then,

evrythng ok. give jihyun a hug frm me

Later that day, Taehyung goes and gets his hair dyed black, and when he gets home, he puts the cut strand of hair in a plastic bag and hides it in his bedside table drawer.

Jimin comes back home 3 days later. When he sees Taehyung’s hair, he says, “it looks nice.” But then he notices that Taehyung is wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, so he hugs him, and he gets his white sweater soaked through with tears. They talk about it, later, under Taehyung’s sheets as Jimin cuddles him in bed.

Taehyung says, “she told me I’m good for nothing,” then, “everything was gray,” then, “min, I think I’m gray too, I think Japan was a mistake.”

And it’s only colors, but it means so much more, so Jimin kisses his head and strokes his hair and says, “You’re everything but, Tae. Everything but. Japan was not a mistake, if I were to doubt it was, I wouldn’t have trusted you so readily to come here.”

And it’s enough for now.

The next day, Taehyung opens his eyes to an empty bed, sheets wrapped all around him like a burrito and traces of kiss on his forehead.

But it’s all gray, still gray.

A state of colorblind.

●

Jeongguk is very hesitant about leaving the keys of his apartment with a complete stranger.

Sure, he had his bedroom locked, and Hoseok is going to meet the designer whom Jeongguk is paying almost ¥600,000 for, so he supposes his home is not going to be robbed or anything. Jeongguk’s home is his pride and joy because he paid a shit ton of money to buy the condo. Yes, it was bland and boring because Jeongguk thinks that keeping everything black and white is a personality trait, but he still loves it.

So on Thursday morning, 6 hours before the time of their flight to Daegu, and as Yoongi wrestles a whiny Woosung into the thickest coat he has, Jeongguk hands the spare key to his apartment to Hoseok.

“Please don’t let them rob me.”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t make them make my couches orange.”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t make them drink my banana milk.”

“It’s gonna expire by the time you’re back.”

“Oh right, then please let them enjoy my banana milk as long as they don’t rob my house.”

“Gguk, you’re paying them like ¥600,000 to fix your house, why do you care if they steal a ¥5,000 vase?”

“Because of the sentimental value that the vase holds!” Jeongguk says but Hoseok just throws him a look before he snatches the key out of his hand, says his goodbyes to the Mins, and leaves.

By the time Jeongguk, Yoongi, and Woosung make it through the process at the airport and to the gate of the plane, Woosung is silently crying because of how tired he is, so Jeongguk just lets him sleep on his chest, and the 5-year-old stays knocked out till the plane lands in Incheon, South Korea.

Jeongguk doesn’t visit his parents or speak to them often. Nothing dramatic happened, but they just kinda drifted apart with his parents’ busy corporate lives and Jeongguk being away. His family doesn’t celebrate the holidays anyway, so Jeongguk almost always ends up in Daegu with the Mins. Jeongguk is so used to Yoongi’s parents that going to Daegu feels like going home. They live in a small townhouse right in the middle of Daegu Town, and because of how small the house is, Jeongguk, Yoongi, and Woosung have to sleep all in one twin-sized bed in Yoongi’s childhood bedroom.

The holidays are a quiet affair at the Min household because, just like Yoongi, his parents are mellow and calm, and so are their celebrations. Christmas eve is spent around the dinner table, and on New Year’s Eve, they have a game night with Yoongi’s 3 cousins.

The rest of the days in between are just for Woosung. Taking him out to parks, buying him a thousand toys, and keeping him entertained. Jeongguk calls Hoseok to check up on the house, and Hoseok’s reply of: “oh y-yeah, it’s um, great. It looks so…refreshing, Gguk” makes him uneasy.

Going back to Japan feels tedious, and because of the weather conditions, their flight gets pushed back for hours, and they end up touching down in Japan at 2:00 am. Yoongi drops him off at the front gate of the building, bidding him goodbye with a forehead kiss before driving off with a sleeping Woosung in the backseat. The trip back home was full of heavy hearts and stomachs; very tiring too due to the awkward timing of the plane, but it was the only one available. Jeongguk rolls his shoulder blades, sore from supporting a sleeping Woosung the whole trip as Yoongi handled the luggage.

It is safe to say the neon green is a whiplash Jeongguk is not ready to receive late at night at 3:20 am. He’s still jetlagged, and to be honest, he completely forgot about the whole redecoration thing, too busy reminiscing the chocolate cheesecake Yoongi’s mom is so good at making, and thinking about his bed’s soft sheets that he’s missed so much.

Jeongguk’s body is too heavy and his mind is hazy when he turns on the lights of his kitchen for a cup of water after he toes off his shoes by the door. He squints as his pupils re-adjust slowly to the new brightness in contrast to the lazy one emitted by the city lights, ready to go to bed as he drops his suitcase beside the counter- he’ll deal with unpacking tomorrow, right now he doesn’t want to think about anything else.

He watches as the water flows into the translucent cup, his throat anticipating the quench when he feels his eyes playing tricks on him from the side, his eyelashes drooped low but not enough to cover the wave of color coming from the living room. He furrows his brows, too focused on not overfilling the cup, deciding it’s the tiredness, quickly diminishing any doubt before the memory of hiring an interior designer nicks his brain. He turns his head around in panic, staring intently at the still dark room and he confirms the hint of color as his eyes bulge at the scene.

A neon green fucking color, and not a hint of it but a lot of it.

“Oh, fuck me four ways to next year.”

Jeongguk rests the full cup on the counter, the hurried force making it spill on his hand and the smooth marble surface before he marches with soft paddles to the living room, his footsteps echoing in the dead silence of the apartment.

He feels the panic build up even more as he gets closer to the living room, turning the lights on with a not-so-swift slap at the button before neon green attacks his sight and threatens to blind him. Jeongguk takes a deep breath at that before slumping on the wooden floor, the contact of his ass to the ground making a small thud and continues to stare at it.

At some point after the shock wave dissipates, anger starts to build shooting him up from the ground fully awake, he scans the rest of the living room but what he sees is actually a proper and subtle design job in contrast to the giant wall of shit fest which both shocks him even more but relieves him to the stage where he can feel like taking a breath back into his lungs without the shake. He calms even more at the sight of the small desk beside the window but it does not last long as his sight refocuses on the wall, a small frame hanging down from the ceiling that he didn’t initially concentrate on.

He realizes the frame supports a small torn paper which itself contains words scribbled down with black carelessness. In the morning, Jeongguk is sure to call the company and give them a piece of his mind about the un-agreed upon result. He asked for pure white walls, a bright enough shade to both calm a person down but still manage to keep them awake and energized, refocusing them on their tasks at hand rather than being a whole distraction of vomit show on some broccoli soup eating contest.

He snatches the note from thee frame and composes himself enough to read, only to be whiplashed again by the content.

He. Was. Here.

Jeongguk’s internal panic doubles by the nanosecond- he can feel his cheeks burn from how warm the room becomes, his palms sweaty and eyes twitching.

How the fuck did that happen?

He thinks about calling Yoongi, quickly jogging to the kitchen to grab his phone before the screen illuminates the time. 4:53 am. He has been staring in awestruck at his living room for more than an hour, trying to comprehend the state of it without losing a sense of its familiarity. He decides against waking him once he sobers up a bit, thinking about the late hour.

He contemplates on calling either Yuta or Hoseok to ask them about who the fuck of them allowed any of this to happen before thinking against it as well, what his brain retorts to last is resettling on that spot on the living room floor again, staring at the wall for the nth time and waiting till the sun rises for his revenge to revitalize into action. This is not a game of spitting words from speakers anymore, this is a whole personal and physical war upgrade. He invaded his house, welcomed himself in and resumed to fuck his wall up.

This is personal, he cannot call the company up, and his lust for revenge must be appeased by his two bare hands. He will grab him by the throat once the clock hits around 7 am, he will drag him by his bun five stories up and will proceed to shove his face forcibly into the wall. 

Jeongguk lays his back on the soft carpet, he dozes off into unconsciousness and then jumps right back into reality as the orangey light lifts itself up on the horizon- he is determined to catch him unnoticed this time, he will not fall asleep.

And as the sun hangs partially strong at 6:45 am Jeongguk puts his shoes back on and steps down into the building’s back door avoiding any contact with neighbors or Yuta, the distraction is not welcomed when bloody murder is on his mind.

He sits under the no pets sign and waits for a familiar figure to waltz by, naïve and un-expecting, but the cars start getting more frequent as they drive by him and the sun rays start to hit Jeongguk’s face gradually harsher but still, he finds no one he wants.

The next day the unfamiliar phenomenon repeats itself, he stares back at a disappointed and guilty Yuta by his side before walking backwards towards his car, palm clenched around keys that dig harshly into pale skin and a jetlag that fails to leave him.

“He might still be on holiday.” Yuta says in consolation when Jeongguk comes back from work that day. Jeongguk sighs at that before dropping his laptop bag in the hallway entrance, beside Yuta’s desk. He sits on his chair while the latter choses to massage his temples, the guilt still evident in the way he acts around Jeongguk, his fingers fidgeting and his lips being gnawed at mercilessly by his teeth.

Jeongguk burst in Yuta’s face the other day, letting out the frustration of both having a neon wall and an absent culprit. Yuta, with bulged wild eyes and a heavy stutter swore that the former was not spotted once but after running to the security room they both discovered that the male has successfully managed to sneak from the back with the keys all throughout the job. It was not Yuta’s fault nor Hoseok’s for trusting the man, since well Yuta had no knowledge of such an arrangement, both Hoseok and Jeongguk failed to let him in on it, also Hoseok, even though aware of Jeongguk’s rendezvous with a stranger, he was still very much unaware of his feud with that specific communist.

When he called Hoseok up, the latter mentioned that he expected Jeongguk to inform Yuta because of their tight relationship, on the arrangement of a redesign, however due to work and traveling plans clouding Jeongguk’s priorities, it had completely slipped his mind then.

Now, Jeongguk hugs Yuta’s hips, burying his face into his torso to block the harsh light from feeding into his intense headache; he’s surprised he managed to drive safely back home, even after debating to just take public transportation and then deciding against it, and there is no way in hell he will be driven by Yoongi, since that would be a bigger headache on his part when you include the road rage and insistent loud cursing, and an even louder and more energetic Woosung who so enthusiastically narrates his whole day at the nursery.

“It’s really not your fault, Yuta.” Jeongguk says, his words muffled by the fabric of Yuta’s uniform, and he can feel Yuta’s tense physique relax as he hugs his head into his abdomen, smothering’s Jeongguk’s face, but the latter melts into it regardless, needing the affection and support.

“He’ll come back, we’ll get him.” Yuta is playing with his ruffled hair, tapping it lightly but reassuringly as Jeongguk nods weakly at his words of encouragement.

“What if this was his last retort? The big finale before disappearing?” Yuta sighs at that, pausing as if he’s debating or thinking of his next words, then Jeongguk feels him jump, his toned stomach hitting Jeongguk’s nose harshly, at which the latter scrunches his face while looking at him, confused at the sudden movement.

“Shit, we’re idiots, Gguk! Why are we waiting for him when we can go to him ourselves? You know where he works at now.”

Jeongguk jumps up at that too, looking at Yuta like he’s some kind of genius. He kisses his head rather violently before rushing up the stairs to his apartment.

“Jeongguk, your laptop!”

And that’s exactly what Jeongguk does after running down and then back up to fetch his laptop: sprawl atop the couch after flinging the laptop bag haphazardly in the hallway. He researches the company location and with a victorious high-pitched squeal, he goes to prepare for his elaborate scheme.

Genius elaborate scheme #final:

1. Go to company
2. Find the cold corndog
3. Drag corndog
4. Stomp on corndog
5. Leave corndog on curb, preferably flailing in pain

And that’s what Jeongguk expects when he walks through the doors of Toku Interiors the next morning, to locate a long-locked head and use those locks to drag his enemy out of the building smoothly, however when he does actually enter, he’s met with a receptionist speaking to a rather tall employee sporting a forced grin. It is almost an awkward grin than anything else, one a person would use to cover up an awkward situation, or to take away from the confused expression her eyes are conveying.

“So you’re looking for a…?” the receptionist asks Jeongguk, and he coughs awkwardly.

“Taehyung. Korean, long hair in a bun.”

The woman next to her nods in recognition, looking at the receptionist as if signaling for her that she’ll handle it. The receptionist looks rather short in front of the woman, also looks like she’s new because she bows vehemently in understanding before scattering back to her work, her long black bangs falling on her eyes from where they were tugged graciously behind her perky and blushed ears.

“He’s one of our interior designers here, yes, but may I ask the reason for this visit?” The woman asks, raising her eyebrows in anticipation, but when she catches on Jeongguk’s hesitation, she speaks again. “I’m Takahashi Aina, by the way, HR officer at Toku Interiors, so if there are to be any complaints about an employee it would be mostly fitting to address that through me and not the employee individually.”

Jeongguk’s lips thin at that, bowing in acknowledgment at the HR person before introducing himself as one of the customers, but refraining from giving his name away.

“No no, it’s not a complaint. It’s merely just a small discussion about design alteration, nothing worthy of reporting.”

“Ahh, well I apologize for wasting your time, but Kim Taehyung is on a short and temporary leave but I would be happy to link you with another designer of similar works.”

Jeongguk deflates at that, doesn’t even hide the disappointment in his tone when he says, “No, thank you. I’ll just pass by another time to catch him.” (literally catch him and bury him in the park next to the building, preferably alive too so Jeongguk could hear the screams of agony slowly fade away as the oxygen intake starts to- ok way too dark.)

Disappointed, Jeongguk goes to the coffee shop next to the building, he already took his day off as a sick leave so if he shows up at work, his boss wouldn’t be all that embracing and understanding. The best next thing to do for a cheer up beside going back home and hugging Yuta till sundown is coffee and croissants.

He settles his double espresso shot latte and cheese croissant on his table, sighing before sitting his butt on the chair right across a figure hovered above a notepad. He seems to be sketching furiously, and from what the gray hoodie reveals of his incongruously familiar features, the boy seems rather focused. The type of focused that detaches one from reality, that daze where when you come back you realize you’ve been biting on your lips too hard or your arm tingling and losing sense from sitting on it too harshly. His brows are furrowed, and if it was not for the sketch book, Jeongguk would have assumed the person is actually upset.

His face shows little of what can be identified. Jeongguk looks around the café for others to analyze, it’s a nasty hobby he picked up on during college days when Yoongi came one day from class and lazily sprawled himself atop a napping Jeongguk. ‘People watching’ as Yoongi calls it, is actually practiced by many professional psychologists, to which they decide upon visual diagnosis. The external factors actually translating what’s essentially going on inside a person’s cerebrum. The first day they tried it, they excitedly went through Yoongi’s notes from psych class sitting beside Yoongi’s window right across the park that separates his building from the university campus and watched the many students, giggling as they set up different back stories for each.

With no one but the barista and the hooded figure at the coffee shop, Jeongguk sighs again sipping on his latte and deciding to rest his vision on the stranger’s sketching. It’s a huge invasion of privacy, but no man would ignore the motion of the sleek and slim fingers that beautifully brace the coal pencil, his fingers gliding with gracious force, determined and set on the lines they draw with pure confidence but yet they move along the paper surface aimlessly. Jeongguk wonders for a bit about the feeling of the man’s fingers sliding and gripping on flesh, the way they would dent the skin so smoothly but also so intently that they would bruise, if not physically then emotionally. Leaving a lingering sensation that causes hairs to rise for days.

He refocuses on the sketch, it’s a vague and messy line elucidation of what seems like a face with chains adorning its head instead of hair. From what Jeongguk can grasp from the mono-colorization and harsh lines, the man is both frustrated and stuck. Trapped and smothered, or forced to look or live in a specific way he does not explicitly appreciate.

Jeongguk bites into his croissant and texts Yoongi to update him about work, he also offers to pick up Woosung since he’s free. He chooses not to refocus on the man sketching to respect some of the privacy he’s already gnawed into with unwelcomed curiosity and finishes his food. He also decides against approaching and disturbing the man on his way to the exit and just leaves with a lingering glance at the now coal coated hands with the hope that the stranger’s dilemmas wash off of him with it.

Jeongguk’s dilemmas however don’t; Taehyung never shows up for two consecutive weeks of waiting and as the days wash over his own grasp, the anticipation of a Taehyung returning go down the sink with it.

And so, the days roll by and it’s suddenly a month, Jeongguk never really returns back to the company and never gets the wall fixed, too busy and consumed by the demands of his job. He did attempt to fix the wall, though, on the 17^th day of Taehyung’s famous disappearance, he walked into some paint store and bought the dullest shade of white he could find, dumped newspapers all over his living floor and held the brush tightly in his grip. What he did expect is a new white wall, however he does not muster up the nerves to do anything, a little thought creeping up his cerebrum and zapping him from staring at the wall for too long. That wall, aside from the note, were the only traces left of the communist boy and losing it terrifies Jeongguk to the point of chills running down his neck all the way down to the tips of his fingers that were supporting the brush. A weird feeling he chooses to ignore, locking it in a steel box and throwing it into the dark ocean of his unawareness. It’s what she deserves.

Yoongi wonders about the wall, but Jeongguk decides to not show his disdain, instead going with, “I like it, hyung. It brightens my life” just because he knows that Yoongi would not hesitate to help him repaint the wall white if he dislikes it.

Jeongguk spends less time in the living room as more time passes, drowning himself in work that he finds himself doing in the kitchen instead. It’s better that way, he explains to himself- he’s closer to the coffee machine and the harsh lighting prevents him from falling asleep…yeah. He manages to push –forcibly- any thoughts of the long-haired man and resumes his life the way it was supposed to go initially. Waking up at 8:00 am with a healthy amount of sleep, going to work, taking the drive with Yoongi and Woosung to fill up an eerie sense of loneliness that he debunks as homesickness, so he starts calling his family more often, and sleeping over at Yoongi’s more too, but it never goes away, he learns- it just momentarily dulls out. 

He goes to Yuta for advice and free hand holding from time to time too, and Yuta points out his lack of romantic shenanigans and that was the big-light-bulb-turning-on moment Jeongguk thought he needed.

And so, as the days roll by, again, and it’s suddenly a month and a half since Jeongguk last saw Taehyung. Akari from advisory asks Jeongguk out and suggests they go to ‘Starbucks’ and Jeongguk immediately loses interest. He points out the irony of drinking coffee that tastes mediocre for twice the price of that in any other coffee shop and Akari replies with a shrug, as if the whole Western trend wave overpowering local businesses and shutting them down is not a thing that ever crosses his mind.

“The whole industry is controlled by two or three brands that end up wiping out local businesses that come their way, which mind you are HIS country’s local coffee shops and it pisses me off that he just chooses not to acknowledge it, Yuta!”

“So, you turned a date down because he was oblivious of a triopoly? You? Jeon Jeongguk?”

“Yes.”

“And it seemed like a valid reason not to take him to bed?”

“Yes?”

“Oh child…”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Jeongguk, doesn’t that seem like an anti-capitalistic thing to do?”

“And?”

“Veterans, we lost him.”

-

On the 44^th day, it rains and Jeongguk sits in his usual spot at the kitchen table, nestling up in his hoodie and he doesn’t even know why he’s counting, but he is. He rests his chin on the palm of his hand and doses off momentarily to the sound of heavy water drops tapping rhythmically on the kitchen’s window, lulling him to sleep.

The rain is thick and it blurs out the city lights outside so Jeongguk’s only view is rendered to his laptop screen that reads out tax spreadsheets. A yawn escapes his mouth as he closes his eyes, letting his hearing sense sanction his focus; drip drip drip, and a little splash of tires hitting puddles is all that he imbibes in, it’s almost 2 am so car activity is at its minimum in his neighborhood. The little hum of his refrigerator overlapping most of the noise from outside and it’s both peaceful and lonesome knowing he’s one of the very few awake at such an hour.

It’s not Yuta’s night shift either, that’s why Jeongguk jumps in worry when his buzzer goes off, his hand jerking off quickly from where it supports his head, hitting the edge of his slightly lowered laptop screen painfully. And then the buzzer shuts off.

He checks his phone immediately, thinking if it were Yoongi or Hoseok he would have received calls before, but nothing but his lockscreen of Woosung’s picture and texts about work light up on his screen, marking the last one sent on 11:42 pm. He furrows his brows in confusion and gets up towards the interphone, shuffling his lazy limbs.

Maybe Yuta’s filling in on the behalf of Hitomi and wanted to check up on Jeongguk. He’s the only one aware of Jeongguk’s odd sleeping hours at most times for work, so he’s the first person that would reason to buzz his interphone right now.

“Hello?” Jeongguk can hear the rain hit the asphalt much clearer from here but he doesn’t miss the light shuffling of clothes against it; the camera picks up a grainy pixilation of an individual with black shaggy hair, definitely not Yuta.

Jeongguk bites his lips, waiting for the person to reply, he tries to familiarize a face but the weather is bad and the camera is of really low quality. He can hear a sniffle and then a hiccup- the stranger has been crying, Jeongguk thinks, his features softening as the man rubs his nose and eyes with his wet sleeve. The man exhales rather sharply, his breath wavering and Jeongguk can see he’s shivering.

“Did you lose your way?” he softly asks, Japanese syllables falling smoothly out of his mouth. The person shakes their head at that, hiccupping more instead of answering the question.

Jeongguk sighs, he feels useless. He wants to help, but he can’t trust a stranger in his house.

“Are you cold? Did anyone hurt you?”

“Mmffm.” Is all the other musters at that, their head resting on the wall near the placement of the camera and Jeongguk can see the wet black hair shimmer as light bounces off of it.

“Please, I can’t help you unless you answer me.”

Jeongguk freezes when he hears the subtle sobs escape, the stranger starts hiccuping more violently and Jeongguk can see their lips wobble as an attempt to inhale the sharp cold air to calm down.

“I-I don’t-t think I,” a huff and a hiccup, “c-can be helped an-nymore.”

Jeongguk’s throat dries up at the Korean words he hears. He recognizes the voice immediately, regardless of the stuffy nose and heavy rain. He can recognize the voice by heart, especially through an interphone. His ears burn up immediately at the recognition. He wants to ask, he wants to check if it’s true but his voice isn’t coming out, he cannot seem to speak or function, he just stands there gripping the phone handle harshly and gaping at the screen.

He can see it now, he can see the curve of his nose more clearly, he can see the defined eyebrows uncovered as his bangs stick to his pale wet forehead at awkward angles and his heart sinks in and drowns in his stomach acid, he can feel the heat from his ears spread to his cheeks. He can feel the burning of his eyes start to intensify as he refuses to blink scanning the screen once again.

Jeongguk wants to ask, wants to check and wants to know more. Wants to know why he’s here, why his hair is not his anymore, wants to ask why he’s crying, if he wants to come up, if he wants to spend the night, if he would let Jeongguk take care of him. But he can’t, he’s shocked and a little afraid of the outcome. His chest is clenched and he can’t breathe, his left arm is aching from the quiet sobs, the hiccups synchronized with the dull throb in the back of his skull.

He grits his teeth when he pushes himself to talk again but he can’t and he doesn’t understand why he’s so affected. He just waits for the other to speak again and when the latter relaxes into his sobs he does.

“Am I b-bothering you?” Jeongguk doesn’t reply for the few seconds.

“F-fuck, I am,” another hiccup, “What’s new I guess, r-right?” Taehyung laughs bitterly, wiping his face with his sleeve harshly.

Jeongguk shuffles at that, shaking his head in response as his voice continues to fail him. He wants to say no, he wants to actually tell him he’s relieved he came back, that he’s been waiting for him to, that’s he’s been counting the days. That… that’s he’s relieved with his presence for some ridiculous incredulous reason, but he doesn’t want to rationalize that reason, he just wants…

He just wants, him? And it’s all just crashing down on him now, trickling harsher into his lungs than the rain that has just stopped falling.

“I’m sorry, so so so sorry, I swear. I-I know you don’t want to hear this b-but I need to tell you. I don’t understand why, but I do, I need to so p-please listen.” Taehyung’s voice breaks at the last plea, Jeongguk biting the inside of his cheeks at the high-pitched crack of it.

Jeongguk wants to yell he understands, he’s getting desperate at the view of the boy wet and pale and he can feel his eyes well-up at the frustration.

“I’m a mess, and I brought that mess onto y-you and it’s not excusable. But this was one of few things that kept me waking up, k-kept me excited about a new day, and it’s so fucking pathetic god, I-I know I’m so sorry,” He rubs his eyes with his hands haphazardly and sniffles. “I was letting my frustrations out on f-fucking strangers yelling into interphones like it was some kind of consolation, a-and when you reacted back the first time I b-buzzed in anticipation.”

“Me too.” Jeongguk whispers, because that’s all he can do, whisper, and he knows it’s inaudible because the other doesn’t react, he just holds his tears back and continues.

“N-no one ever l-listened to my thoughts even when I voiced them out so loudly but you did and I know y-you did because you yelled back and it was the only-y thing I held on to, and I’m so fucking sorry for that, I’m so sorry I kept coming back but I couldn’t seem to stop.”

“Don’t, please.” Jeongguk can hear the confusion in his whispers, but he’s the only one, he sees the frustration in the others features grow as they both stand there in silence, Jeongguk’s lips quivering as they struggle to actually tell him to not go just yet.

Jeongguk just needs a minute to understand, to grasp, that’s it’s just his social anxiety kneading at his brain and not him, not him at all. But it doesn’t seem to be enough, because the other huffs in desperation.

“Please,” Taehyung whines, chocking a bit from the strain in his throat. “Why aren’t you answering? I can hear you breathe, I know you’re there, please!”

Jeongguk is desperate to, is desperate to go down and face him too, but Taehyung doesn’t leave the time for Jeongguk to muster up to any of it.

“Fuck,” he whines another time, hitting his forehead lightly on the speakerphone. “I knew coming here was a mistake, I just had a couple- no many, many shots and I-I just gravitated here. Didn’t even think about it, fuck, thought you’d still- still listen. I’m sorry.”  He’s crying again, nestling his face into the hoodie as he backs away.

He stares at the camera one last time before turning around, pulling the wet hood on his head before walking away.

No no no.

“Taehyung!” Jeongguk screams, but it’s a late reaction. He watches the lean figure wobble away lit by the dim street lights.

His gray clothes black at places where it’s been damped by the late-night shower.

Jeongguk’s legs start moving at their own accord, pushing him out of his apartment, down 5 flights of stairs and into the main entrance where the rain has intensified, rendering his vision blurred. He runs into the street, trying to find Taehyung still, but he can’t see anything, and the water drenches him, soaks through his clothes, and Jeongguk can feel it seeping into his bones.

He’s too late.

The tremors in his legs shake him to the core, and he ends up curling himself on the bench facing the reception desk. Hitomi must be asleep in the inside office, but Jeongguk doesn’t spare it a thought, curling into his water-soaked clothes, and falling asleep just like that. What he doesn’t know is that he’s crying, tears burning his eyes, and he doesn’t know why. He just feels his regret settling into the cervices of his ribcage, nestling itself next to his heart. What was just a mere game of fake war for him, was a coping mechanism to Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s ‘people watching’ psych skills failed to pick that up.

Or maybe it’s more than just guilt, maybe and for some fucked up reason, Jeongguk’s attached and he knows he is, there is no denying it when his hands are trembling more from the idea of Taehyung’s loss than the sharp cold hitting his chest. It feels colder without him there and Jeongguk cannot understand why.

Maybe it’s his inner savior that wants to hold Taehyung down and swallow him whole with warmth and reassurance, to sit him down and engulf all the struggles away, to rub his thumb on his palm and kiss it for better measures, but he doesn’t have the right to play hero for someone who did not stick out long to ask for it.

Maybe, just maybe it’s his attraction towards all that is curio. He cannot deny Taehyung being the rare, unusual, and intriguing force that he is. The way he dresses, the way he expresses and even what he expresses. The kind of rebel attitude he withholds with complete confidence, ripping through Jeongguk’s façade and the many around him. He reminds Jeongguk of the big bang, reminds him of late night discussions about the Bermuda Triangle, and reminds him of his gnawing ache to know more about the Theodosia Burr Alston disappearance. But he doesn’t have the right to unfold what did not bear itself to him, does not have the right to delimit Taehyung to nothing but a mystery when all of us are a complexity of our own. He needs to figure himself out before he tries to solve others.

It’s Yuta who finds him the next morning, still soaking wet, fever running high, cheeks tear-stained, and eyes red-rimmed, his loud curses jutting the neighborhood and Hitomi awake.

“I found him,” he says when Yuta uses the master key to open up his apartment and walk him to his bedroom. “I couldn’t catch him.” He then tells him what happened, what Taehyung said.

“It’s okay,” Yuta says, helping Jeongguk out of his soiled clothes, and into the shower. “You’ll catch him next time. It’s not a lost case, we know where he works.”

“I cannot chase him when he didn’t ask me to, Yuta.”

“People don’t directly ask for what they need at most times, Gguk. Especially not pretty boys with internal struggles and sharp tongues.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know if there ever will be a next time, but he hopes so.

He doesn’t know if he should chase after him either, but he guesses he will try to.

He really needs to.

He also guesses he knows how to.

-

“Jimin says he can’t help you with Taehyung,” Yoongi says, cradling Jeongguk. “Says he’s not alright right now.”

“I know he’s not, hyung.” A whisper, muffled into Yoongi’s side.

“What?” but Jeongguk doesn’t answer, trails his sight on the soft carpet they’re both sprawled onto. “What do you need him for, anyway?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to thank him for his work, ask him for some changes. Ask him to come by again.”

Yoongi hums, runs his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair and then says, “Maybe later, when he’s better.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He picks at the loose fabric of the carpet harshly, snapping some to cradle in his palm. Maybe he should use the carpet as an excuse to see Taehyung again- tell him it’s faulty.

“I’m asking Jimin to dinner tomorrow, I want him to meet you.” Yoongi then says, offhand, like it’s no big deal.

“You want me to meet your boyfriend?” Jeongguk asks, looking up at Yoongi through his hair that’s matted on his forehead.

“Yeah, he needs to meet the person Sungie always compares him to. Besides, I want you to meet him, your opinion matters most to me.” Yoongi chuckles, and Jeongguk’s guts melt, but he smiles instead.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll meet the guy who stole my husband and child.” He says a bit mellow dramatically, rolling onto the other end of the carpet away from Yoongi and his pillow-y arms.

“He stole no one, bun. He’s just…more.”

“More.” Jeongguk adds, nodding in agreement. He gets up on his knees, hair sticking out in odd angles.

“Yeah. Sungie told him that he shouldn’t try to replace you, little feisty bunny.” Jeongguk chuckles at that. “Jimin said that he wouldn’t, doesn’t want to. He can’t compare to Tokki anyway.”

Jeongguk crawls atop of him, his limbs attaching themselves onto Yoongi how Woosung does when he’s had a bad dream or when he’s hurt himself, and Yoongi squeezes him back.

He kisses Yoongi at that, square on the mouth, like a kid kisses their parent. It means, “I love you”, it means, “please don’t leave me, hyung”, it means, “you’re my family”, and it’s only for a second, but it feels like coming home, and Yoongi doesn’t mind it. Jeongguk apologizes anyway.

“Sorry, I should probably stop doing that now, it’s just college habit I guess.”

“It’s okay, bun. Minnie doesn’t mind, he knows that it’s platonic.” Yoongi says, however, kissing Jeongguk’s hair. Soft.

“I can’t believe you told him about our past, it’s so embarrassing.” He whines. Yoongi laughs and rolls them so that he’s smothering Jeongguk, the latter huffs but smiles regardless, falling into sleepy silence.

“Jimin sounds like an angel, hyung.” Jeongguk whispers after a minute or so.

And Yoongi says it, then, means it, “I think I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

Jeongguk meets Jimin the same night. He’s small and soft and bright, says it’s nice to meet the most important piece of Yoongi’s life, and Jeongguk doesn’t say it, but he wants to tell him, “That’s you now.” He just blushes and hands him a glass of wine.

It feels like a family dinner, cozy and safe, and Yoongi kisses Jeongguk like he kisses Woosung, and Jimin smiles softly, warmly, then kisses Yoongi like he’s the love of his life, and Jeongguk thinks, “I think he wants to spend the rest of his life with you too, hyung.” Looks at Yoongi, expresses it with a glimmer of adoration in his eyes.

It’s a week later when Jeongguk brings Woosung home after a day out that they find Yoongi and Jimin cuddling on the couch. Woosung jumps between them and proceeds to tell them all about his day, down to the last detail.

“And the dog’s name was Shimmer, daddy! Tokki told me that means glitter!”

“Baby, why don’t you go take off your jacket and wash your hands so we could have dinner?” Yoongi asks the little boy, and Woosung runs to his room yelling about wanting to tell Elizardbeth about the other lizard he saw at the park.

“How much sugar did you feed him?” Yoongi looks at Jeongguk and the latter has the audacity to look guilty.

“Hyung! His lips wobbled!” Jeongguk exclaims.

“How much was it?”

“Like 2 macaroons, a chocolate croissant, a bag of sour candies, and an ice cream cone.” Jeongguk mumbles them out quickly but Yoongi’s used to it.

“Jeonggguk! Oh god!” Yoongi’s eyes widen.

“Y’know what, Yoongs, I’m just gonna go home.” Jeongguk tries to make an exit but Yoongi grabs his arm and pinches the inside of his elbow. Jeongguk goes to the gym almost 5 times a week, and that still hurts like hell.

“You’re staying for dinner and you’re doing the dishes.” Yoongi says and Jimin giggles when Jeongguk whines.

“Jimin-ssi please talk to your boyfriend!” Jeongguk tries but Yoongi pinches his elbow again.

“It’s either that or you put Woosung to bed.” Jeongguk might hate doing the dishes but he knows better than to put Woosung to bed while he’s on a sugar-high, so he slumps into his seat and pouts.

Woosung comes barreling out of his room then, cradling his pet lizard his his hand.

“Elizardbeth wants dinner!” He announces, and Yoongi decides something.

“Hey, Sungie, how about you take Jiminie to help you feed Liz?”

Woosung throws a confused look at his father then at Jeongguk who gives him an encouraging smile.

“Okay!” He says, excited. “Come on, Minnie hyung!” He then grabs Jimin’s (tiny!) hand in his equally tiny one and drags him to his room.

Jeongguk and Yoongi chuckle as they go to the kitchen to start making dinner. Jimin comes back 5 minutes later, nodding at Woosung who was now brushing the hair of one of his dolls.

“Was that some kind of initiation?” He asks, resting his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder as he watches him cut up the vegetables for the stir fry.

“Did he let you carry Liz?” Yoongi asks and Jimin hums in confirmation.

“Then he has accepted you into his circle. You are now the 5^th honorary member of the Elizardbeth feeding club.” Yoongi says and Jimin chuckles.

“It means he trusts you with his life.” Jeongguk adds, in all seriousness, because it’s true.

“Oh.” Jimin then says softly. “I’ll make sure to never break his trust, then.”

By 7:30 dinner is done and eaten. Jeongguk starts up on the dishes, “you should go put Sungie to bed.” He tells the other two men, and they both nod and go do as told.

15 minutes later, Jimin walks back into the kitchen and grabs a tablecloth to help Jeongguk dry the dishes.

“Is he asleep?” Jeongguk asks and Jimin smiles a little.

“He’s trying to read Yoongi a bed time story. Each word is taking a minute for him to read, but I’m sure Yoongi would be asleep by the end of the page.” He jokes, knowing fully well that Yoongi has the habit of dozing off next to Woosung almost always.

Jeongguk laughs and they continue doing the dishes in silence.

“Jimin-ssi,” Jeongguk says as they relocate to the living room after the dishes are done.

“You can call me hyung, Jeongguk. If you want.”

“Oh. Okay. Jimin hyung,” he says and Jimin smiles at him. “I wanted to ask you about your friend, the one who remodeled my living room? Is he better now?”

Jimin’s smile drops a little at the question, then he says, “he’s trying to be better. You know, family problems and shit.”

“I hope it gets better soon. I just wanted to thank him for his hard work. But I don’t want to be an extra burden on him.” Jeongguk tries to play it casual, like he’s not trying to fish for details.

“He’s doing his best to make it better, but Taehyung’s always had a weird way of coping with things. Now he walks to work too early, and he takes the longer way home every day to buy me a colored mochi from the same coffee shop downtown. I don’t even like mochis that much but he likes the colors. Needs them.” Jimin says, sounds almost sad.

“The pink place on 6^th?” Jeongguk asks, casual.

“Yup, that same one. I think Taehyung’s the only one who ever buys their mochis. They’re too chewy, but they’re the only colored mochis in a 10 mile radius, so they have to do.” Jimin shrugs.

“Why mochis, though?”

Jimin giggles a little then says, “When we were little, Taehyung’s brother used to call me mochi because I had really chubby and soft cheeks, so the nickname stuck.”

“That’s adorable.” Jeongguk comments, doesn’t even register that he now knows where to find Taehyung until later.

He leaves soon after, when Yoongi comes back into the living room looking like he’s gonna drop dead soon. Jeongguk thinks about Taehyung all the way home, and that night, he dreams of colored mochis and a boy with golden hair.

Except that is not the reality anymore as Jeongguk puts on his jacket the next day, fixing the collar and strapping it extra tightly around his neck so the harsh early morning wind wouldn’t threaten to seep through it. He makes sure he takes extra care of his fringe today too, styling it downwards on his forehead and parting it a bit further from the middle to the right. He usually combs it downwards for his morning routines, but it’s a special mission he’s taking on today, so it calls for special treatment.

He blows on his hands to warm them up as he jogs down the stairs, feeling more refreshed and determined than ever to finally have a plan set and ready for action, or at least a semi-proper plan but he’ll use anything to his benefit right now, and Jimin provided him with enough opportunities to pull through his elaborate way of getting his-the communist boy back.

“So you’re really pulling through with this, huh?”

The thing about Jeongguk and Yuta is that they’re close enough that Jeongguk feels safe to the point where he can confide and tell him anything, from life changing decisions and events to what color his mysterious butt bruise turned the next day. Even going to the extent of placing small bets if it would be green or yellow, Jeongguk drum-rolling through the speakers as he pulls his boxers down and bends down to check. Yuta is more than just a doorman and it’s pretty evident in the way he kicks his feet up Jeongguk’s living room table after his day shift with the rummaged peanut bag he found hidden under the sink by no other than Jeongguk or even Yoongi, staring smugly at a defeated Jeongguk with that shit-eating grin he always sports. 

“Try better next time.” he’d say.

So you can’t really blame Jeongguk for running towards the building gate instead of his apartment right after his conversation with Jimin to tell him, or even slump flat on his desk with his feet kicked up to plot down the different possible ways things would go down tomorrow.

“Yep, I’m stealing all of the man’s mochis”

“Are you sure that’s your way of trying to converse with him, I mean after all he will recognize you as the man who tried to snip, rip, his golden glorious hair off”. He grins at the determined nod he gets from Jeongguk, fixing the strands of hair that stuck out from his little jog down.

“Alright then, go get him, or in this case, bicker with him, tiger.”

He winces at the encouragement spank he receives but even then he can’t help but grin on his way to his car. Taehyung would love Yuta outside their war affair.

-

When Jeongguk first started his job, his favorite part about it was its timing. It wasn’t often that shifts for corporate jobs started at 9 am instead of 8, but Jeongguk was lucky to learn that his did- which was a blessing by itself. He could wake up at 8:00, and go through his morning routine before taking the 7-minute drive to work.

All of that was possible until Taehyung entered his life. First it was waking up at 7:20ish because of the buzzer, and now- this:

Jeongguk now wakes up at 7:15, gets to work by 8:00, forgoes his coffee breaks, and leaves at 3:55 on the dot. The reason: getting to the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop on 6^th with the pink display before 4:05 pm.

On the first day, Jeongguk sat at the back of the café and watched as Taehyung bought multicolored mochis while he looked gray. On the first day, Jeongguk did not really know what to do, so he did nothing. Just watched as Taehyung entered the coffee shop at 4:10 pm, bought his mochis, and then left, dark hair only long enough to cover his forehead.

It’s Jeongguk’s third day with this new routine. When he gets to the coffee shop that afternoon, he decides to do something, so he pays ¥10,000 to buy all the mochis, then sits by the window. At 4:09 he watches Taehyung enter the coffee shop, walk up to the counter, and then, a minute later, he could feel the little stomp from right behind him then a glare that pretty much burns the back of his head. Jeongguk did not make a good job at hiding the mochis he bought, crossing his legs together as he fake munches on one while staring at the café window so sorrow-ly in thought.

It is all for show, for all Taehyung can guess, he’s thinking about aerodynamics and the cure for cancer.

Jeongguk has to gather himself together not to squish the mochi in his hand from the anxiousness, the anticipation as Taehyung’s footsteps echo in the semi-empty shop, mimicking that of the pitter patter of the rain outside as they come towards him; boy so attune with what’s left of nature behind him, whether rhythmically or by honey skin and sunshine eye spark. Jeongguk wants to bathe in all of it, like a deprived city boy on vacation pressing his toes further into the cool wet sand, a shiver rising from blood and spreading around indented rough skin.

“Excuse me,” Jeongguk hears the voice say, next to him. The small hairs on Jeongguk’s neck rise, whether from wet sand or wet lips, it’s unknown.

“I would like to rebuy 3 mochis from you.” Voice crisp, like crunched up autumn leaves. Jeongguk frowns a bit at that, Taehyung belongs in spring bloom and crystal shine.

He looks up anyway, the frown saved for a smirk instead. Phase one of the plan was to get Taehyung’s attention and attention did he –not so- get because the other is not entirely looking at him, but is looking at the mochis instead. It’s enough facial feature to see that he’s tired- like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Doing anything but this right now.

“Oh, hello.” Jeongguk says, smirk maintained. Taehyung’s eyes lazily roll to his face, above gray dark bags but they grow in recognition instantaneously.

“What the fuck,” he lowly groans, biting the inner corners of his mouth as if stopping his next words from spilling. “It’s you-” He then continues against his better judgment.

“Yes me, infamous kid scissors blonde hair serial snipper? You’re absolutely right.”

Taehyung gulps, lowering his gaze back to the mochis lying on the table. “Listen, for whatever reason that drove you into doing that, like I don’t know, some internal angst struggle maybe? Just know I’m not here to fight you on it, I just want my mochis, dude, please.”

“But I already bought them all.” Jeongguk says shrugging and Taehyung sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and Jeongguk smiles at the other’s attempt to Zen his anger out.

“I know,” after a minute of controlled breathing, “but…I’m offering to buy some off of you.”  He fake smiles, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“I get that, but I want them and please stop smiling like that, constipation is not a nice look on you.” Jeongguk retorts, grimace obvious in both his tone and expression.

(He actually really hates mochis, and he’s pretty sure Yoongi and Woosung won’t eat 36 mochis by themselves.)

“A couple of them won’t be a loss for you. I need them, because of- of my routine. I can’t not have them.” Taehyung reasons, dropping his smile and wallet onto his side. His shoulders slump at that alongside Jeongguk’s will.

“How about I make you a deal?” Jeongguk straightens up and Taehyung backs up at that, looks like he wants to dissolve, wants to both fight back and give up and agree.

“Dude, they’re just mochis.” Fight back it is.

“I know, but it’s a great deal,” Jeongguk says and when Taehyung remains silent, hands holding in on himself in signs of protection following a sigh of submission, he goes on. “I’ll give you your mochis if you have a cup of coffee with me- doesn’t have to be today.”

“Why?” he sounds more surprised than suspicious.

“Because- you seem like you need them more than for what their actual purpose is, and I’m offering whatever that might be,” Jeongguk decides to say, and Taehyung wavers, eyeing the mochis before boring his stare back at Jeongguk. “Besides, maybe I just want to ask you on a date and this is my way of doing it.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a while, just watches Jeongguk and Jeongguk watches him back- his dark eyes, the mole on his nose, and his mouth.

Pretty- all of him, but it misses the gloss, it all misses the sparkle.

“I want the red, purple and green ones, please.”

Jeongguk perks up at that, smiles softly at the boy glaring back at him with determination; hand thrown in his face.

“Okay.”

“But just this once, no more.”

Jeongguk ends up giving Taehyung the whole box of mochis. “Because of your routine. And the- you know.” He reasons, and the little twitch of Taehyung’s mouth is worth it.

The coffee date takes place 4 days later, on a Monday out of all days- Taehyung is there before Jeongguk is, and he sits in a booth at the back, then waves softly at Jeongguk when he enters. All the green, purple and red secure in front of him on the table he’s leaning on.

They order coffee, black, and they talk softly, because they’ve never done that before. They don’t ask for names, and they don’t ask about each other’s lives- they talk about the old man sitting to their side, and about the dog Jeongguk saw on the drive to the café. At some point they realize it’s been an hour and a half since their little date started, but neither of them mentions that, they just order a coffee refill, and talk about the weird bank commercial on TV.

Taehyung returns to the café the day after, and so does Jeongguk- they don’t talk, they just acknowledge each other with a nod, and the next day, Taehyung buys his mochis and takes a seat instead of leaving, so Jeongguk sits in the seat opposite him.

Halfway through Jeongguk’s story about why he likes his tea sugarless, Taehyung extends a hand between them and says, “Taehyung.”

Jeongguk stares at it for a minute in confusion, then he realizes that Taehyung doesn’t know that Jeongguk knows his name. Now here’s his predicament; Taehyung the communist knows 505 Jeongguk’s name, but not fair Jeongguk’s, so he damns himself to hell when he puts his hand in Taehyung’s and says, “Jeongsik, but you can call me JK.”

“You can call me hyung, I’m guessing.” Jeongguk says he just turned 26, Taehyung says he turned 27, confirms it.

They don’t know who started it, but suddenly their conversations were in Korean instead of Japanese, and their café dates turned into I’ll drive you to work in the morning, hyung it’s cold outside, no it’s not far from my work, then I’ll pick you up from here, and, you can take my scarf I’m not cold, I promise I don’t want mochis, hyung, you can change the radio channel.

Taehyung doesn’t warm up fast, but he does so anyway, and when he gets comfortable, he sometimes smiles, and other times he stares at Jeongguk as he drives but says nothing, and Jeongguk lets him. More often than not, Jeongguk does the staring, and he wonders when will he be brave enough to come clean, but then Taehyung’s lips quirk slightly and his eyes sparkle a little, so Jeongguk shuts up and hopes that the gray goes away.

Jeongguk drives Taehyung to work every morning for 3 weeks, and when winter starts bleeding into spring, Jeongguk loses his excuse to drive Taehyung to work, so one morning, Jeongguk shows up without his car, hands in his suit pockets as he casually walks up to Taehyung and informs him that their morning drives are now their morning walks, “because we can use some sun, hyung”, and Taehyung just rolls his eyes and leads the way. Sure, it takes Jeongguk 20 extra minutes to walk to Taehyung’s work, walk back to his car (sometimes catch a cab), then drive to work, but who is he to deny Kim Taehyung anything.

It’s a warm Wednesday morning when Taehyung keeps glancing up at the sky as they walk. He almost walks into the street when the light is red, but Jeongguk catches his arm and pulls him back. “What’s wrong, hyung?”

Taehyung sighs, fixes the lapels of Jeongguk’s suit which must have got ruined during the walk, then says, “The sky’s too gray for a spring day.”

Jeongguk removes his hand from Taehyung’s arm and balls it into a fist, digging his nails into his palm to keep himself from showing how bad he feels.

“Yeah, hyung.”

The sky’s actually too blue, but Taehyung is feeling so too, because he does so a lot, so he only sees the gray, and it makes Jeongguk want to throw up. 

Min Yoongi is the first to notice that something is up, and his boyfriend, naturally, is close second.

“Have you spoken to Taehyung, Jeongguk?”

“No, hyung, how would I? Why would I.”

“He’s smiling again. Joon says he’s getting to work early, too.”

“Okay, hyung, good for him.”

“You’ve been acting weird for the past month, Gguk. Woosung’s noticed it too.” Yoongi chirps in, giving Jeongguk a gaze that says I know you inside out, Jeon, I know you’re lying, fess up.

“No, I haven’t, Yoon. It’s just work.”

“Right.”

He does however tell Yuta, snuggling up behind him as the other prepares another peanut butter banana sandwich on his kitchen sink.

“The guilt is killing me, Yuta, and I can’t seem to get out of this spiral of lies I’ve created.”

“The ones towards Taehyung or Yoongi and Jimin, Gguk?” but he does not really answer, he does however snuggle up to the other’s back even impossibly tighter, a small whine escaping his crushed lips.

-

“You don’t have to buy me mochis every time you arrive before me, JK.” Jeongguk hears from his left as he feels a hand touch his shoulder briefly before Taehyung appears in front of him. The touch lingers as he imprudently watches the golden boy sit in front of him. It’s amazing how he’s able to keep some sort of summer glow on his skin, it shows that there actually is a bit more fight left within him, and that reassures Jeongguk greatly.

“I know, but I didn’t want to buy the drinks too early, and I felt awkward sitting here without purchasing anything.” Jeongguk shrugs, toying with the carton lid of the box sat on the table between them.

“So, you decided to buy every mochi they have?” Taehyung asks, peaking into the box. That gives Jeongguk more chance to intrude and look again- what he sees is not new to him, but all as interesting, almost like a checkup and that’s why he thinks of it as intruding; Taehyung wears his moods, he doesn’t feel them almost.

His eyelashes are still long and thick, skin a bit dry on the cheeks but his lips are slick and wet though, almost an improvement from last week.

“Yeah, I thought maybe you’d want more today.” Jeongguk’s heart beats a little faster when Taehyung smiles softly at him. His eyes are dryer than last Monday’s. However, it’s a Friday afternoon today, and Jeongguk’s at the coffee shop early because a meeting he had was cancelled.

“I thought you weren’t gonna come today.” Taehyung says after a few seconds pass, opening the box of mochis and arranging the pieces according to color, just so he has somewhere to look other than Jeongguk. Taehyung never looks, he glances, and it’s as if he cognizes his state and generalizes it on others, as if he values other people’s privacy.

Jeongguk shrugs, pulls out an orange mochi from the box before he shoves it in Taehyung’s face and says, in English, “Orange you glad I did?”

Taehyung looks at the mochi in Jeongguk’s hand then at the ridiculous bunny smile on his face, then he fails at keeping his mouth in the straight line that it’s used to sitting in. A deep sound escapes, and if Jeongguk weren’t hyper-focused, he would have missed the chuckle.

“As I live and breathe, the legendary frowny Taehyung gave me a chuckle. I am invincible today.” Jeongguk sets the mochi down, dusts his hands off on his pants, and doesn’t look at Taehyung anymore, because Taehyung’s looking at him and Jeongguk is not a strong man when it’s eye to eye.

Next thing Jeongguk knows, there’s a mochi up in his face, and Taehyung says, “I guess I just blue you away.”

Jeongguk can’t help the giggles spilling out of his mouth. He puts a hand to his face to try to hold them in, but they spill right past his fingers, and suddenly, Taehyung is giggling too, and Jeongguk hates himself a little more.

It’s 30 minutes later, when Taehyung is talking about dental floss, when Jeongguk asks, “Why do you only want the red, green, and purple mochis? Why not any of the other colors?”

Taehyung stops his rant and his smiles turns sad, just a little bit, “I thought we don’t talk about our personal lives.” It’s an unspoken rule that the two men agreed upon when they didn’t ask or share anything about each other beyond first names (and fake ones), but Jeongguk’s curiosity got the best of him.

But only this once did it get out of hand, Jeongguk is curious about many things.

Why the new hair? Why the new outfits? Did he go home okay that night? Did he get a cold like Jeongguk did after? Does he think about 505 still, has he even forgiven him?

Except none of that spills out of his mouth.

“We don’t, hyung, but I was just wondering. It’s hard to miss the pattern.”

Taehyung fiddles with his fingers a little bit, but says nothing for a while, then, “I just want those colors back.”

Before Jeongguk can say anything, his phone starts ringing, and one look at the screen tells him that it’s Yoongi. Taehyung nods at him to pick up and he does, “Yeah, hyung? Did you pick up Woosung? Not yet, classes end at 5:30, it’s still 4:45. Okay great, I’ll pick him up then. Min’s coming for dinner and he wants to see him. He’s gonna want to sleep at mine, though, because it’s movie night. You’ll have movie night tomorrow. I promised. It’s okay, bun, I’ll tell him it’s my fault. It’s on you now, I’m innocent. Nothing a little ice cream can’t fix. Good luck with that, hyung. Shut up, just call him and back me up. Okay, I’ll call when I can. When you can? I thought you were off work this afternoon? I gotta go! Gguk. Where are- Bye, hyung! Give Sungie kisses.”

“Well, I guess movie night’s off then. I’m also off babysitter duty.” Jeongguk fake pouts, even though he really is bummed he won’t have Woosung for the night.

“You can watch movies alone.” Taehyung comments, doesn’t ask any questions and Jeongguk pouts harder.

“But Die Hard is not fun to watch alone.”

“You were gonna watch Die Hard with a kid?” Taehyung then asks, looking at Jeongguk strange.

“Sungie’s older than his age, okay? We were gonna watch Barbie right after.”

“You have a Barbie movie?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, “I actually bought all 36 Barbie movies because he loves them so much, but this one’s his favorite.”

“Which one?”

“Fairytopia.”

“Oh, I love that one.”

“Then maybe you should watch it with me.”

Oh no. Jeongguk realizes his mistake belatedly, when Taehyung smiles at him and hesitates. Fuck, fuck no, why did I say that.

“Maybe I should.” Taehyung finally says, and when Jeongguk realizes the implications, his heart falls.

This is how it ends, Jeongguk thinks to himself as they gather their things and walk out of the coffee shop together. All because of a fucking Barbie movie.

Jeongguk thinks about going over to Yuta’s place instead, but Yuta’s at home and that won’t work. Maybe Yoongi’s? No, Jimin’s there. What about Hoseok’s? No, he has a roommate and he knows Taehyung. Fuck. Jeongguk suddenly regrets not having more friends.

To prolong his time with Taehyung, Jeongguk decides that they should walk- It’s warm outside, maybe a walk would do us good. And when they start walking, Jeongguk intentionally makes them miss the first right they should take, and he takes the longer way home- from the road no one takes because it’s through a neighborhood which is under construction, and no one likes how bland it is.

They don’t talk much, but halfway home, Taehyung offhandedly says, “I’m sick of this road.” And when Jeongguk asks what he means, he adds, “I used to take it to work every morning, you know, before you.”

Actually, after me. Because of me. I’m so sorry.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know.” Jeongguk says, and Taehyung waves it off.

“The living room’s probably messy because I haven’t taken down the pillow fort since two days ago, and there are toys literally everywhere. I think I also left some spilt juice on the kitchen counter, but I’m not sure.” Jeongguk says, just so he can have something to say. Please say you are disgusted by that and change your mind.

“It’s okay. I have two roommates, so I don’t mind a little mess.” Taehyung giggles, and Jeongguk almost throws himself face-first off the nearest high-rise.

“Also, Fairytopia glitches a little, at the end, because Woosung kept rewinding that one bit when Laverna turns into a toad.”

“Hey,” Taehyung stops walking and stops Jeongguk by the hand, “We don’t have to go to your place if you don’t want to. We’ll watch it some other time.” He strokes his knuckles and squeezes a bit for reassurance.

This is what Jeongguk wants, to turn back and walk back to the coffee shop- yes another chance please, give me time to prepare myself.

“Jeongsik?”

No, it’s Jeongguk, I hate lying to you.

“No, hyung. It’s okay. We should watch it today. It’s fine, I promise. I’m just,” He then looks up at Taehyung’s expectant eyes, and he feels a faint pressure on his hand, from where Taehyung slipped his fingers between his. “It’s okay, hyung. Let’s go.”

Taehyung doesn’t let his hand go, and Jeongguk can feel his eyes burning. He can feel the slight shake in his legs, can feel his breastbone ache for his fingers to press, to dull the panic and guilt subdued in his chest.

I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this.

He sniffs the cold air further into his pipes, a slight burn forming in his throat.

It’s my fault, whatever happens next is all my fault.

But to Taehyung he says, “So, what’s it about dental floss that you were saying?” and to Yuta he hurriedly texts, “I knw its not ur shift but I might need u ltr tonight”.

It’s 10 minutes later that Jeongguk stops walking, when Taehyung’s speech about floss dies down; the demeanor in his face turning from one that’s annoyed about gum bleeding into one of jolt and recognition and Jeongguk thinks ‘fuck, he already notices.’

“We’re here.” Jeongguk says, voice hoarse. He doesn’t look at Taehyung but at his shoes, clearing his voice from the strain of the burn and the panic that now rose all the way up his head. He can feel his blood drumming into and out of his skull, the adrenaline flowing down to curl his toes up under thick leather boots.

He bites his inner cheeks at the reply, the panic has overflowed to his tongue and has abused his mouth, seeped itself between each tooth and made itself at home.

“Which building?” Taehyung asks, and Jeongguk can hear the panic in the other’s voice too, it’s a panic of betrayal, but what’s done is done. Jeongguk takes a step towards the main entrance and his knees wobble, but he keeps going, Taehyung’s hand stiff in his, fingernails dig into his knuckles in warning. As if he’s giving Jeongguk a chance to change his mind, a chance to back down and say that this is all a joke even to take another way, his fingers scratching as Jeongguk takes a step forwards again ‘This is your hint,’ they say, ‘take it and move backwards and away.’

Jeongguk keeps on stepping forwards. Struggles but marches with the adrenaline still in his blood.

At the building door Taehyung stops him, untangles his fingers from his and says, “Oh,” then, “A popular place for Koreans, I guess.”

Jeongguk grimaces, says nothing, but keeps walking and doesn’t look back to see if Taehyung is following, but he can sense his body right behind him, his body is buzzing at the company. He only stops when the doorman says, “Mr. Jeon. Your mail.” And hands him a bunch of envelops, wrapped in a paper that reads, “Jeon Jeongguk” in large, Japanese letters.

Jeongguk shoves them in his pocket at the speed of light, but Taehyung is right behind him and sees anyway, but again, says nothing.

Please say something. It’s over, hyung. Go on, end it.

To his surprise Taehyung still walks to the elevator with him and waits for the doors to open, then looks at Jeongguk to get on, eyes unblinking and bloodshot and when Jeongguk does, neither of them does or say anything.

Jeongguk’s ears are thrumming from the pressure inside. Everything he’s feeling is too big for this elevator, his panic is compressing around him. Taehyung’s presence is larger than the whole building even, all of it is suffocating.

Please, just say anything. Your silence is choking the elevator up, it’s choking me up.

“What floor?” Taehyung’s voice is shaking, edged up.

Jeongguk doesn’t dare move a limb. He’s caged and claustrophobic, there’s no space for it.

“Press the floor number, Jeon Jeongguk.”

I’m sorry, Taehyung, I didn’t want it to be like this.

I meant to fix this.

“Fine. I’ll do it for you.” Taehyung shoves his shoulder out of the way, pressing the button that reads 5 hastily, without hesitation. They tremble for the pressure to press, but the elevator dings afterwards and the doors close around them. Taehyung fixates his eyes on him again.

Suffocation. Drowning.

The elevator starts to move.

Elevation. Hyper-sensation.

“Taehyung.” Jeongguk says, barely, on the way up, Taehyung flinches but shakes his head, bores his eyes impossibly more into his.

“No,” Taehyung threatens as the elevator dings again and he steps out on the fifth floor.

His fists are clenched as he looks around before turning to look at him again. Jeongguk does not move an inch out of the elevator, not ready to fully admit.

Taehyung is quick to hold the doors open. “Get out.”

Who is he to deny Taehyung anything ever, pulling himself out of the elevator with quick strides.

 “Open your door.”

“Taehyung.” Jeongguk still feels suffocated in the hallway.

“Which door?”

“Taehyung, please.” Jeongguk tries again.

“I asked you, which door!” Jeongguk recoils, looking at Taehyung’s shoes.

“You a-already know which door,” He’s gripping the ends of his jacket, mimicking Taehyung’s “Please.” He whines softly.

“Then open it.” He hears a tight sniffle.

Jeongguk hates it- and when he looks at Taehyung’s face, tears lining the edges of his eyes, he hates himself too.

There’s no way out of it now. This is it, no matter how much he prolongs it, the damage is way far done.

Jeongguk’s shoulders slump even more but he still doesn’t move. Cannot move, will not move.

“What color is your living room wall?”

No. Not that.

“Answer me.”

I can’t breathe, hyung.

“Answer me!”

“It’s green, okay? It’s fucking green.” There’s no point in prolonging it any further, no point. Jeongguk notices the first tears fall out of Taehyung’s eyes as soon as he says that.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, dejected, hurt, gray, “It’s my green.” Then he turns back and walks towards the elevator.

“Hyung, I can explain.” Jeongguk tries to catch up, and doesn’t notice that he’s crying too until his blurry vision makes him miss a step and almost trip down. He catches Taehyung’s arm before he walks into the elevator but Taehyung rips it away and says through clenched teeth, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Hyung, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He holds the elevator doors open as they begin to close.

“Mean to what, Jeongguk? Lie to me? Pretend you’re two different people? Carry on the façade? Take my colors?” Taehyung’s voice cracks, and Jeongguk notices, yeah, I did all of that. I don’t deserve you. But I want you.

“I didn’t mean to, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“Shut up, you don’t get to apologize. I trusted you. I let you ruin my routines multiple times. What the hell is wrong with you? Was this some sort of joke to you? Revenge for the fucking wall? Was that it? You wanted payback for what I did?” Taehyung pushes Jeongguk away because he’s too close, too much, too much, too much.

“At first it was about that, but then you-”

“Made myself an easy target.”

Made me feel.

“No, hyung-” Jeongguk steps forward but the doors are fast to close.

And this seems to break Jeongguk because suddenly words are choked out by sobs as his features reflect on the metal doors, and Taehyung’s lowered down and away.

I deserve this. He doesn’t.

Yuta arrives to Jeongguk sitting in the hallway, sobbing like a child. He doesn’t ask any questions, just helps him inside, watches as Jeongguk texts Yoongi,

let jimin go check on taehyung he needs him

gguk what did you do

smthn bad hyung

Yuta wraps Jeongguk in his arms and lets him cry.

“It wasn’t worth it,” he keeps saying, between sobs. “None of it was worth it, he got hurt too.”

-

“So are you going to come out of Woosung’s fort and tell me why I had to pick up a crying Taehyung three days ago?”

Silence.

“Jeongguk!” Jimin lightly shakes the fort. “You cannot ignore everybody forever, get out.”

“You can’t force me, hyung.”

Jimin sighs, crouching down beside the entrance of the fort. “You’re as stubborn as him.”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention, his feet twitching. “And what about it?”

“You wanna tell me how you know my best friend? And what’s between you two that got you both this depressed when it ended?” Jimin pokes Jeongguk’s feet that are peeking from the fort because he’s too tall to fit all together, even curled up. Jeongguk curls further into himself and murmurs something that Jimin can’t hear. “What are you saying, Gguk? I can’t hear you.”

“I said, Taehyung must’ve told you already, so stop asking me because I will start crying.” Jeongguk mumbles, and Jimin sighs, but sits with his legs crisscrossed and he pokes Jeongguk’s foot again. “Jeongguk, you have to fix this for the both of you, get out and talk to me.” He tries to pull him out, but Jeongguk is quick to retreat his feet back in; Jimin only manages to take his left sock off, earning a frustrated whine from the other.

“I’ve hurt him enough, hyung. Every time I appear around him, I do more damage than fixing.” A shaky exhale exits Jeongguk’s mouth because he is frustrated from all the talking. “He-he said I mess his entire routines up.”

Jimin caresses Jeongguk’s calf in a soothing manner and smiles sadly Yoongi’s way, who’s biting nervously at his thumb behind the fort, resting his side on the living room door. He throws a thumbs-up Jimin’s way- at least they finally got him to talk now.

After the whole incident, Yoongi shoved himself beside Yuta on Jeongguk’s couch, breathless from jogging up the stairs. Jeongguk was a wreck when he held him firmly, so he packed him a duffle bag, and buckled him up in his car like a child; he wasn’t going to leave Jeongguk by himself like this, and Yuta has shifts to cover.

That’s why Jeongguk is now with Yoongi and Woosung after three days still, refusing to get out of the fort or his pajamas. He only ever converses with Woosung when the baby squeezes himself next to Jeongguk in the fort, but it’s nothing too long. Woosung would only ever join him for naps, understanding that Tokki is feeling down.

Truthfully, it is less about feeling down and more about being ashamed to face those who he’d lied to, even when some have so readily forgiven him for it.

“Jeongguk, Taehyung’s routines are merely just a coping mechanism, a way to suppress his issues and frustrations. If anything, you’re pushing him to face them, to move on from them. Part of heeling is hurting, you’re not the bad guy in any of this.”

“But I don’t want him to hurt at all.”

“He was hurting already, just silently.”

“How would you know that?”

“He chopped his hair off after a fight with his family even though he’s been growing it for years, he yells at strangers through interphones and makes himself late to work every morning, he wears neutral colors he hates because they’re the in between for him, the ‘stuck colors’ as he calls them,” Jimin frowns at the floor, inhaling shakily before he continues, “And he buys disgusting mochis of the exact three colors, again and again and he never actually eats them, knows I won’t either.”

“He hates me, hyung.”

“Please, Jeongguk, no one got past his thick skull before you, I’ve been trying for years. If anything, his feelings for you are the opposite of hate.”

He can hear Jeongguk shuffle inside the fort, takes it as another sign of progress.

“We live in Minoh district, northern of the city, Jaii Street.”

“Jaii, the restaurant Jaii?” mumbles Jeongguk. Jimin airily giggles at that. “Yes. 4^th building right from it, the red one. Second floor on the left.”

Jeongguk’s ankles resurface out of the fort again. Jimin only pats them for encouragement, smiling back at Yoongi who’s still huddled up behind them with a lopsided grin adoring his face. “I trust you with this, Jeongguk. With him too.”

Jeongguk crawls behind Yoongi in bed later that night, snuggling up into his back. Yoongi reaches back for his hand and holds it up to his mouth, Jeongguk can feel him smile into his palm, so he smiles onto his back a little too.

“I think I know what to do, hyung.”

“Then I trust you too.” He kisses his knuckles firmly, then litters some more kisses into his palm. Jeongguk whines airily, shy at the affection.

“Goodnight, you absolute aegi.” Jeongguk closes his eyes and breathes slow. “Goodnight, Yoongi”

-

Jeongguk has had multiple relationships throughout his life. He dated both girls and boys, and he even got close to moving in with one guy, Minhyun, a Korean boy he met in NYC.

Minhyun was Jeongguk’s boyfriend throughout his senior year of college. They dated for 6 months before Minhyun asked him to move in, and Jeongguk said no. Two days later, Minhyun broke up with him- actually, he told Jeongguk, “I think we should break up,” and Jeongguk shrugged and said, “okay.” Minhyun was scandalized because of how easy it was. He told Jeongguk that their relationship was one-sided and Jeongguk puts no effort. He said, “how do you expect relationships to work if you put no effort at all?”

Everyone who knows Jeongguk knows that romantic/sexual partners, for him, are expendable, not because he doesn’t want to love someone, or because he is a bad guy, but because Jeongguk has a priority list which he made known once he settled in Japan:

1. Yoongi (and later, Woosung)
2. His friends (read: Yuta and Hoseok)
3. Himself
4. Work
5. Everything else

Exactly in that order. If something disrupted that order, he would drop it.

Until Taehyung.

The buzzing messed up Jeongguk’s life all together- messed up his work, his sleep, his sex life, and left Jeongguk in a state of disarray. First, he tried to drop him, fight him off, but Taehyung kept coming back, kept prodding into Jeongguk’s list until he almost overtook the first place.

Now, Jeongguk’s list is damned to hell, and he knows it, and he’s accepted it, because he finds himself waking up at 6:30 am, throwing on his work clothes without ironing his shirt, and driving to Minoh district to repent his sins and beg for forgiveness.

Jeongguk squints at the sun-rays still shy in the sky- it’s 7:15 in the morning and what a good day to vent out and save his soul from all the guilt. He’s probably going to get in trouble from what he’s about to do, but there goes nothing anyway.

He takes a deep breath, megaphone which he bought from a pawn shop in a very shady neighborhood in hand and ready to be abused. He isn’t afraid of the cops being called on him- he’s at a point of despair for this, for Taehyung.

He clears his throat, points the megaphone in the general direction of the red building’s second floor’s left side, and begins:

“Aqui se queda la clara, la entranable transparencia, de tu querida presencia, Comandante Che Guevara.”

Yes, he is singing the Che Guevara song, and he damn straight stayed up all night to get the pronunciation and vocals right- Taehyung deserves nothing less.

But he’s receives radio silence, no praise so far. Slumping on his car, he wills himself onto the next verse, though. Fuck it.

“Vienes quemando la Brisa, con soles de primavera, Taehyung, please reply, I won’t stop until you do, Para plantar la bandera, Taehyung please, I’m running out of breath.” He’s speaking in Korean because he doesn’t want all the neighbors knowing that he’s begging a boy he’s crushing on (yeah, he admitted it to himself, finally) for forgiveness, also, privacy- in a messed-up kind of way, anyway.

His rendezvous gets cut short, however, as the old lady from across the street, who Jimin warned him about, comes running towards him with a threatening broom, yelling at him to shut up.

And it goes on like this:

Wednesday 11^th of April, 7:16 am

“Hey, Taehyung, what do a painting and a capitalist have in common?”

Silence.

“They're both things you should hang. HAHAHA.”

“Dude, no, that’s just horrible.” Jimin replies, popping his head from a window and throwing Jeongguk a look. He smiles at him anyway, then retreats back into the apartment.

Thursday 12^th, 7:13 am

“Good morning, Taehyung, what do capitalism and vending machines have in common?”

“They both take your money but never work.”

A head pops out of the window and Jeongguk gets excited but it’s just Namjoon shaking his head.

He wills himself awake every day to reach Taehyung’s early enough for the megaphone session, since their building has no interphone. At some point the old lady from across the street starts yelling with Jeongguk too, for Taehyung to reply, but he still doesn’t.

Jeongguk runs out of anti-capitalistic jokes soon after, so he googles slandering facts and recites them to Taehyung every morning. That doesn’t work either so he’s rendered to useless blabbering. He tells him about Woosung's progress in the nursery, from his report cards to his height and weight gain but when that doesn’t work either, he resolves to his last option: The Macarena.

“Good morning, Mrs. Nakamura.” Jeongguk bows in respect to the old lady; she’s sitting in front of her building across the street with her cup of tea ready, legs crossed and looking forward to today’s session. Jeongguk didn’t think he’d be at peace with this lady after she tried to hit him with a broom on the first day, and burn him with a hot pot for the following week and a half, but the smart lady soon realized that helping him is a better tactic than trying to deform him (he explained to her that he made Taehyung sad and he wanted to make him feel better), so they became best friends soon after. She said she even smacked Taehyung in the arm with her sandals once as he came down to Namjoon’s car- she mentioned he started running into the car and locking it ever since, and Jeongguk was mortified.

“What is the plan today, son?” She says, nodding at him back in acknowledgement.

“We’re going to sing the Macarena.” He smiles at her apologetically, as she stares at him disappointedly then pours him his own cup of tea– “so you wouldn’t have a sore throat after,” she reasons every time. Jeongguk gulps it down in one go, thanking her for the delicious warm liquid, he then helps her out of her chair and walks them back to Taehyung’s building.

“Ready, Mrs. Nakamura?” She inhales, giving him a thumbs up.

“Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena, Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría why cosa Buena!” Jeongguk should really choose easier songs. Mrs. Nakamura claps beside him, screaming ‘woo!’ with every line.

“Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena! come on Mrs. Nakamura!”

“Hey Macarena!!!!” she sings with him.

Midway through the song, they start doing a weird dance resembling that of the original Macarena steps, but as things get heated, Mrs. Nakamura starts coughing frantically. Jeongguk panics at that, dropping the megaphone and tapping her back, but her coughing only gets worse, her face reddening.

“Uh, Park Jimin,” Jeongguk picks his megaphone back up, “I think Mrs. Nakamura is dying.” A minute later, Jimin runs down with a bottle of water.

“Oh my god, I almost killed a lovely old lady.” Jeongguk whispers in mild panic to Jimin in Korean a few minutes later, when they get Mrs. Nakamura back onto her chair, Jimin rubbing her back soothingly.

“The fucking Macarena, Jeongguk?”

These shows go on for 26 days, between 7 to 13 minutes a day. Taehyung does not show his face or reply to Jeongguk on any of them. Jeongguk rethinks his decisions every day, “what if I’m invading his privacy and he hates me more now? Maybe he’s not indulging me because I’m annoying him. I should probably give him space. I probably ruined his sleeping pattern. Good job, Jeon, you ruined more things for him with your shitshows.”. He talks about it with Yoongi, with Yuta, and even calls Jimin a couple of times. Jimin assures him that it might be working, he says: “I saw him try on a green shirt today. He took it off, but he considered it.”

Jeongguk is elated by that, but doubt keeps creeping up on him, until, on the 27^th day, he wakes up at 6:30, but stays in bed anyway.

-

“Woah, up and out at 8:35. Someone missed their daily pestering sessions. Did you oversleep?”

“Good morning to you too, Yuta.” Jeongguk says, but does not smile.

“Well, you’re in a great mood.” Yuta says, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms.

“I didn’t oversleep, I gave up.” Jeongguk plops his butt onto Yuta’s chair and rests his head on the desk in despair. Yuta tsks at that, rushing to help the old lady from 401 with her bag get off the elevator.

“Pretty boys with internal struggles need more time to come around.” Yuta says, walking slow with the old lady from the elevator to the front door. The old lady gives them both a weird stare, struggling to open her umbrella at the entrance. Yuta smiles at her regardless, as she particularly eyes Jeongguk slumping even further on the desk with a suffering groan.

“Well this one seems to have had enough.” Jeongguk raises his head from the desk and fiddles with some pens he found lying there.

“Just give him the time, Gguk.” Yuta’s struggling to keep the umbrella and bag in place as he guides the woman to the taxi waiting outside.

The weather is cloudier than the day before, a little bit of showers hitting shallow on the ground. Jeongguk frowns at the sky from Yuta’s desk at the main entrance. He’s probably still upset with me.

Yuta shoves the old lady’s bag snuggly into the trunk of the cab he hailed for her, then directs the lady to the back seat before helping her with her seatbelt. “May I ask you, Yuta, are you two talking about the child Mr. Jeon has?”

Yuta fidgets with the uniform jacket, smiling awkwardly at the lady. “Uhh, yes, of course, ma’am.” he says before he takes a step back to close the car door.

“Ahh! Well tell him not to worry, he will grow out of that phase soon, children are always so tricky.” She giggles, sighing shyly as if reminiscing old experiences. 

“Haha, yes. I’m sure they are.” Yuta nods, bowing respectfully at her.

“Thank you for your help, my dear.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Takahashi, have a wonderful day.” Then he closes the door and walks back towards Jeongguk who stands up, still pouting, and announces that he’s going to work.

Jeongguk kills the engine of his car when he parks it in his designated parking spot at work, resting his head on his steering wheel. He huffs the pieces of hair that cover his eyes instead of pushing them off with his hand. He guesses Yuta is right, regardless of how many stunts he pulls at Taehyung, the other is eminently stubborn and won’t push down his walls unless he’s convinced to, and Jeongguk slamming himself onto said walls isn’t going to convince him of it at all.

“He’ll come around, Jeongguk.” He tells himself, raising his head up and nodding in confirmation. “He will.” He animatedly tries to convince himself of it as he gathers his stuff from the passenger seat and exits his car.

He gets the scare of his life when he sees Yoongi staring at him in confusion from across the parking lot, probably thinking that his best friend had gone crazy, or is seeing things. Jeongguk crosses the space between them and dramatically flops himself into Yoongi’s arms, letting out an even more dramatic sigh.

“Mornin’, hyung.”

“You’re here late. Took more time at Taehyung’s?” Yoongi straightens Jeongguk up and fixes his necktie.

“I didn’t go.” Jeongguk looks at his feet when he says that. Yoongi sighs, but he pats Jeongguk’s hair like he usually does and says, “Okay, bun. We’ll talk about it later, yeah? Come over to dinner tonight? Woosung misses you.”

Jeongguk nods and says that he wants to eat fried chicken, and Yoongi just chuckles and pats his head again.

-

Jeongguk is dreaming of pudding lakes, ones of which Woosung and himself secretly over-ate yesterday. Jeongguk practically kidnapped him from Jimin and Yoongi that day, adamant on spending his whole weekend with him, no interference or exceptions, he’s his son too and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t compensate for all the other days he’s been busy with both his work and love(less) life. He snuggles further into Woosung’s hair, who’s sleeping atop his chest murmuring ‘no, our biscuit boat’ when the first buzz pierces through his sleep. He shoots his head up from his pillow, Woosung whining at the sudden movement from his special mattress, scrambling from his chest and under the thick sheets covering them. The buzzer starts again, so he suspiciously looks at his bedroom door, thinking that it must’ve been part of his imagination too, but yet another buzz resounds soon after, and Jeongguk’s stumbling out of bed in record speed.

Yoongi? Nah, it can’t be Yoongi at this early hour, plus he wouldn’t use the interphone he’s got his own set of keys. Unless… he’s lost them and has decided he misses his son and wants to steal him away from him.

Yuta has no shift today, so that’s that and Hoseok? Hah probably too hungover to want to hang at this hour. Or maybe it is Hoseok, overly eager about a new jigsaw he found that he wants to solve with him. Yes, most of his Saturdays are spent doing jigsaws and wine with Hoseok, judge him, he can’t operate 24/7 downstairs, he needs rational breaks.

He slips on the way to the interphone, slippers barely hanging on his feet from his hasty shuffling and almost falls on his back, but he regains balance throwing the slippers at random angles around him and runs as fast as he can, turning on the small monitor with a violent press of his finger, with only one thing on his mind: Hoseok and jigsaws.

He really loves jigsaws.

“You stopped coming.”

Jeongguk’s heart (and head) malfunctions, so he just stares at the small pixelated picture of the boy he’s been chasing, his mouth is hanging and it takes him a while to say, “Taehyung.” He doesn’t get to say anything further, because Taehyung is smiling a little at the camera when Jeongguk stutters to speak again, waving gently at it and walking away.

Jeongguk cannot take his eyes away from the monitor, smiling widely in (good) surprise, he’s still tongue tied, and obviously his limbs decided they don’t want to work either so he doesn’t chase him down. They need time to come along, Guk, just be patient.

“Was this Taehyung, Tokki?”

Jeongguk jumps in shock, turning around to see Woosung hanging by his toes and peaking at the monitor, tongue poked out for complete self-control.

“Oh my God, Woosung you scared me.” He picks him up barefoot from the floor, scooping him into his side and rubbing at his little cold feet. He doesn’t (can’t) stop staring at the monitor, the street and entryway are empty, but Jeongguk is still stumped and cannot really peel his eyes away. Woosung plays with his ear for his attention still wanting an answer, giggling when Jeongguk screeches as he bites it.

“Yeah, yeah it was, Sung-ah.” He huffs adoringly at the kid, shuffling him to his other side as his right one is starting to get numb (the boy is growing fast) and decidedly leaves the monitor behind with a last fluttering glance and shuffles them both to the kitchen for breakfast.

It’s 8:45 am and Jeongguk has no idea why Taehyung would be up so early on a weekend, but he cannot complain at all. He sets Woosung down on one of the chairs on his kitchen island and jogs into his room to get them both socks.

Their day will start early too then, token of Kim Taehyung.

As they munch on their avocado and egg toast after thoroughly brushing their teeth, Woosung tugs determinately on his shirt, shaking him out of his thinking trance.

“Will he come back?” Jeongguk smiles tenderly at the question, shifting his weight out of the chair and walk to the fridge.

“I hope so.” He says after a while, grabbing their choco-soy milk out and pouring it into their sippy cups (In Jeongguk’s household, no discrimination is tolerated and thus all should be treated the same).

Woosung claps and cheers at his cup, making grabby hands. “Me too, Tokki, he looks so cool, his purple shirt had red hearts on it!” he gulps more than three sips in one go, hiccupping. Jeongguk just stares at him in complete worship and adoration. “I like him.” he then decidedly says, sporting a chocolate mustache. Jeongguk just giggles at his maneuvers, wiping the stache with his own sacrificed sleeve.

“Yeah, I like him too, baby.”

Jeongguk texts Yuta he came back and then he sits through a slew of messages of I told you so, thank you yuta for being so supportive but then he texts im happy for u gguk we’ll get him this time.

Safe to say, Jeongguk goes through his day with the biggest smile on his face, and he feels even happier when he gets woken up the next morning to buzzing from the interphone as well.

“I heard you’re on babysitting duty. Don’t let him watch die hard, though. And let him drink banana milk, he needs to grow more!”

“Taehyung.”

“I gotta go! See you tomorrow!”

“Taehyung wait!”

Wartime is now chase time. We have to trap him! Is the text Yuta receives on 7:30AM on a Sunday morning. He sends back a few paragraphs of yelling at being woken up so early but he adds a im game tho at the end.

When Taehyung shows up on Monday morning, Yuta smiles at him from his desk and says, “Kudos on the wall. You won the war, Mr. Kim.” Taehyung smiles back, gives him a little bow, and says, “Mr. Nakamoto, I’m glad we get to meet again.” So Yuta gestures towards the interphone as if inviting Taehyung to go ahead, and he does. Presses the interphone and waits till the device gets picked up.

“Good morning.” Jeongguk says, and Taehyung smiles, can’t help it. Yuta snickers which adds to his blush.

“Do you know what Leo Decaprio’s most underrated movie is?” Taehyung asks, because he sees the way Yuta slowly gets up from his chair, lingering a little too close to him. He tries to act casual by checking his nails and staring at the tiles under him as if inspecting them for any defects. Taehyung internally rolls his eyes at him for being too obvious.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asks, and Taehyung can feel the smirk in his voice.

Taehyung holds his bag tighter, throws Yuta a grin before he says, “Catch Me If You Can.” And then he takes off running, Yuta chasing after him. He then hears a voice yell, “Catch him, Yuta! Go go!” So he looks up and sees Jeongguk standing on his balcony, excitedly jumping up and down, throwing his fists at random angles left and right. Taehyung is endeared, but he doesn’t let it stop him from escaping Yuta’s grip.

It goes on like this for a couple of days, he’s appalled to why they were never able to catch him ever, Taehyung isn’t necessarily a physically fit person. But on Friday, when Taehyung confidently walks towards the interphone and presses 505, a different voice greets him than that of the interphone.

“Mr. Kim, we’re delighted you’re back.”

And then Taehyung feels arms around his waist, and warm breath fanning over his ear.

“Gotcha.” He whispers.

But Taehyung panics, doesn’t know what to do and ultimately does what Seokjin taught him years before, that is now stuck in his head as involuntary action. He doesn’t know what triggered it, maybe the overwhelming shock of being finally caught, but his instincts hike up and he yanks his skull into Jeongguk’s.

“If an asshole ever traps you from behind, Taehyung, just smash your skull backwards into their nose, they’re vulnerable little things.”

Jeongguk wales in pain from behind him, crouching on the floor and holding his nose. Taehyung can see the trace of red seeping from inside his palm and onto his fingers and fuck, he thinks, that’s a lot of blood.

“Oh my god, Jeongguk, I’m so sorry.” Taehyung crouches in front of Jeongguk, doesn’t necessarily do anything but hold his hands towards Jeongguk’s shoulders, barely touching him. His mouth falls and incoherently mumbles fuck and sorry. He really doesn’t know what to do with a bleeding nose.

“Why’d you do that?!” Jeongguk visibly flinches at the tinge of pain from yelling, crouching even further into his feet.

“I’m so, so sorry!” Taehyung panics further, but wills himself back onto his feet, lifting Jeongguk with him towards the empty bench across Yuta’s desk. He rests Jeongguk on it and tilts his head up. Jeongguk groans at the movement, lifting his hands up to check at the blood.

“Oh god, that’s a lot of blood.”

Yep, Taehyung thinks again, he’s about to apologize again when he feels a hand grab at his shoulder. “Aha! Gotchaaaaamy god, Jeongguk, that’s a lot of blood!” Yuta screams, right from behind him.

Taehyung groans.

But they don’t panic any further because Yuta is trained for several medical situations, rushing into his office for the emergency kit and stuffing lightly –as Jeongguk groans in pain and Taehyung holds his hand for support- pieces of cotton into Jeongguk’s nose to stop the blood flow. They also carefully lead him into the elevator and eventually into his kitchen where Yuta efficiently makes an ice bag and rests it on Jeongguk’s face.

“I’m literally not gonna ask about this.” Yuta says, looking back and forth between the both of them. Taehyung is stood at the kitchen door, too tongue tied and apologetic to utter a word or come near Yuta as he controls the blood. They mostly sit in silence as the blood stops, Yuta holding the ice bag, one hand on his hip.

“Why’re you staring at me though, I’m the injured one.” Jeongguk says, not panicking anymore after Yuta assured him that his nose is not broken.

Yuta sighs, “Just hold the ice bag until you’re confident the blood stopped.” He looks at Taehyung then, “Please make sure he doesn’t bleed again, I must go back to my shift.” Taehyung nods profusely at him, rushing with little steps into the kitchen beside Jeongguk.

They stare at Yuta’s figure as he leaves, the latter muttering, “I only went for one bathroom break.” defeatedly before closing the door behind him as he leaves the apartment.

The sound of the door clicking resounds in Jeongguk’s apartment from the silence. They stare at each other then, Jeongguk with a bag on his face and Taehyung with his hands clasped on each other in front of him in guilt, both trying to comprehend as to what happened in this past half an hour before Jeongguk breaks into a laughing fit.

Taehyung doesn’t understand why he laughs too but they both do and they laugh until they’re breathless and their eyes water. Taehyung rubs at his, inhaling a deep breath to soothe himself but it gets stuck in his throat when two big hands engulf him forwards.

Those hands rush to clasp around his waist and then all around his back, Jeongguk resting his head on his shoulder. Taehyung melts at that, deflating into the other’s figure in a loose hug but Jeongguk tightens his grip on him and Taehyung responds by grabbing at his shirt from behind, nestling his face into the other’s neck and inhaling him in, Jeongguk holding him in even tighter in response to that. “Finally.” he whispers.

They stay like that for long minutes too, both of them inhaling each other in. Taehyung smells like coconut and vanilla and Jeongguk like a pine forest that somehow clashed into a sea breeze or something and the difference makes Taehyung’s toes curl in excitement.

“Yeah, finally.” Taehyung belatedly responds, his voice muffled and his breath fanning the latter’s skin- he can feel the goosebumps on Jeongguk’s skin from where his face is snuggled into his neck and smiles pleasantly at the effect.

But they both have work to go to, Jeongguk groaning softly and pressing a long kiss into his hair before letting go to answer the phone that’s buzzing restlessly in his pocket.

Taehyung doesn’t understand why he’s so dazed over a hug, but his lips involuntarily rise into a lopsided grin, eyes hazed and a bit droopy as they stare back at Jeongguk beside him.

“Yeah sorry, hyung, I’m running a bit late because I had a nose bleeding situation.”

Taehyung can hear the person on the other line scream what?!

“I’ll tell you later, I gotta drive Taehyung to work first and I’ll be there pronto.”

You’re with Taehyung?!

So yes, Taehyung might be acting like a giggling teenage girl as Jeongguk holds his hand and guides him into the elevator, or as Jeongguk wraps around him again before the doors open and as he kisses the top of his head while helps him into the seat but sue him, Jeongguk is gorgeous even with a big swollen nose.

Yeah, shit, Jimin won’t let him live this down.

You can sue him another time because he can’t help but snigger on the way in the car, Jeongguk clasping his hand in his, asking for the reason.

“Interesting living room wall you got back there.”

“Taehyung, on god, I’ll stop this car.”

-

The routine returns, and the buzzer that was once the bane of Jeongguk’s existence, is now his favorite sound to hear (only second to Taehyung’s voice but he won’t be caught alive saying that). Every day without fail, Jeongguk would wake up to Taehyung’s ‘good morning” filtering through his interphone speakers, voice thick like honey as it tells Jeongguk a random thought. Some days, Taehyung still comes but he doesn’t say much- some days, he lets Jeongguk tell him something instead. Jeongguk knows that the colors haven’t returned to Taehyung, and the gray is still there, but he’s here to help and he won’t rest until all of Taehyung’s colors return, full brightness.

One morning, a bright Saturday, Jeongguk rolls Woosung to the other side of bed before he walks over to the interphone to pick up.

“Still sleeping? It’s 9:30.” Taehyung greets, and Jeongguk doesn’t notice how late it really is until Taehyung has mentioned it.

“I didn’t even notice.” Jeongguk chuckles and Taehyung does too.

“Wanna grab a coffee?” Taehyung then asks, and Jeongguk’s glad that he can’t see him now, because the shock is very much apparent on his face.

“Uh y-yeah. Sure, hyung. Wanna come up for a second? I just have to wake up Sungie and get him dressed.” Jeongguk asks, nervous for some reason, but Taehyung mulls it over for a second before he nods slow and disappears offscreen towards the inside of the building.

Two minutes later, Jeongguk is opening the door for a Taehyung who is wearing a warm mustard yellow shirt. He invites him in, offers him water or banana milk, gets him some house slippers, then leaves him in the living room to go wake Woosung up.

Of course, Woosung whines and grumbles and almost flat out cries but Jeongguk rubs his tummy (it always calms him down) and tells him that they’re going out to have fun with Taehyung. This definitely wakes Woosung up, and he gingerly sits as Jeongguk gets him dressed cutely and they brush their teeth together before Jeongguk carries a suddenly shy Woosung to the living room where Taehyung is casually scrolling through his phone.

“Say hi, Sung-ah.” Jeongguk urges the little boy who glances at Taehyung’s smiley face then hides his own in Jeongguk’s neck. Jeongguk kisses his head and chuckles at his antics, then he puts him down on the couch and says, “Stay here with hyung while I go get dressed, okay?” Woosung just nods, so Jeongguk excuses himself to his bedroom where he freshens up and gets dressed.

10 minutes later, he goes back to the living room to find that Woosung had actually started speaking to Taehyung even though his eyes were halfway closed and he was practically falling asleep. Jeongguk finds the scene extremely adorable- Woosung asking questions that are missing half of their words, and Taehyung trying to decipher the child’s sentences. When Jeongguk finds that Taehyung is extremely confused, he speaks up, “He asked if you know the Tomato song. It’s his favorite.”

Taehyung’s eyes snap up to see a very amused Jeongguk, and he says, “Oh yeah. I love that song.”

“Mind if we drive? Sungie’s still sleepy and I don’t want to have to carry him all the way there.” Jeongguk says as he stuffs his pockets with his stuff and helps Woosung into his shoes. Taehyung, who is putting on his own shoes, says that he’s okay with that, so they all go down to the parking lot where Jeongguk’s car is. After securing a now sleeping Woosung into his booster seat, Jeongguk finds Taehyung smiling at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Taehyung tries to hide his smile by shaking his head a little, then he says, “Nothing. I forgot to say good morning.”

Jeongguk fastens his seatbelt. “Good morning, hyung.”

The little coffee shop is almost empty when they all go in and order their drinks, but as time slowly passes by, with Woosung blabbering about their sleepover and the adults indulging him, more people start to file in, and soon enough, the place is jam-packed.

“Let’s go for a walk. There’s a park nearby.” Taehyung suggests, so they end up walking to the park for a morning stroll.

“Sung-ah, stay close to me, okay? I don’t want your appa almost murdering me again.” Jeongguk says when he lets go of Woosung’s hand so he can wander around.

“Okay, Tokki.” Woosung sing songs as he skips a little ahead of them.

“Tokki?” Taehyung asks, amused by the nickname.

“Yoongi calls me bun, y’know tokki- been calling me that since college since I look like one according to him, and Woosung picked it up.” Jeongguk explains.

“You do kinda look like a bunny.” Taehyung comments and Jeongguk smiles at him.

Woosung gets amused by literally everything soon after, so he skips a little ahead of the two men to do some exploring. Jeongguk keeps 10/10 watch over him at all times, but he can feel the heat radiating off the man walking next to him. They both know that they have things to talk about, so after Jeongguk makes sure that Woosung is doing okay, he throws a look Taehyung’s way and says, “I’m sorry.” Taehyung doesn’t know what for, so he lets Jeongguk go on, “I never formally apologized for…anything. So please let me, hyung. Just hear me out, okay?”

Taehyung nods slowly, then fixates his gaze on the path in front of them. Jeongguk breathes before he speaks, “When you first started the buzzing, I wanted to murder you. Not in a friendly way, but in a jeon-jeongguk-convicted-felon-as-my-new-business-card way. The buzzing ruined my sleep schedule, wouldn’t let me focus at work, therefore making me even more tired during the day, which then resulted in sleep deprivation, enough to make my sex life suffer. I’m in my prime, got laid almost twice a week on the regular, but since the buzzing started and my obsession grew, nothing’s the same as it used to be. I’m not saying it’s your fault solely because I got so obsessed with getting back at you, I almost forgot that you don’t have a personal vendetta on me. When I saw you at that fair, oh God, I recognized you from your voice. I wanted to grab you by the hair and shove you around a little, but I had to be subtle about it; don’t reveal yourself to the enemy, you know?” Jeongguk chuckles a little at that, then he continues, “I tried to cut your hair with safety scissors- I bought the whole art set for it at the overpriced gift-shop, by the way. Anyway, we both know how that ended. And you didn’t know that I’m the same person as the interphone, how could you? I didn’t think it would matter anyway, because I wouldn’t be seeing you again, right? But you kept coming back. The wall was the last nail to the coffin, and when you disappeared, I thought that you’re done with me, with all of this, so I searched the city for you, and then you turn up one night, drunk and crying, and I wanted to end it all, call out to you, invite you up, but I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t say a word, and it made you believe that I wanted you to leave, so you did. I thought my feelings for you were anger, annoyance- I made myself believe that you ruined my life, when in reality, you were just adding color to it, and I noticed the gaping emptiness when you stopped coming around. I felt the gray, hyung,” Jeongguk pauses, looks at Taehyung who is silent, so he takes it as a cue to go on. “I felt so guilty afterwards, got obsessed over finding you, again. I questioned Jimin hyung, lied to Yoongi, and I was lucky enough that Jimin hyung slipped once, mentioned mochis and a café, and I wanted to go there, let you know, maybe, I don’t know. I wanted to make it right. And I was going to, but then you said okay to the date and I wanted you to come again, so I said nothing. When you introduced yourself, I knew that it would all be over if I tell you who I am, and I didn’t want it to end too soon, so I did something stupid and lied again. I didn’t think about the repercussions at that moment, I was just fixated on the idea that I will still see you. And I did. All those morning drives, the little coffee dates. I lied for them.”

Taehyung stops walking and looks at Jeongguk, says, “Then why did you take me home that day?”

Jeongguk smiles sadly. “At first it was a slip up, the invite I mean. But then you kept smiling and calling me Jeongsik, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted you to smile at Jeongguk and go out with Jeongguk, not Jeongsik. So I decided it was then or never- I couldn’t lie forever. You’re too observant, figured it out from the moment you saw the building. You didn’t deserve that. I built us up on fake pretenses and crashed it all down at once. I was relieved when the lie was over- felt like shit for hurting you and cried over it for days, but I was relieved that you weren’t being lied to anymore; that I wasn’t lying to everyone I know anymore.” He sees Woosung trip a little but he gains his footing and continues playing, so Jeongguk goes back to his story. “I thought it was over, then. Like, for real, but Jimin hyung is a persuasive son of a bitch. Kept telling me that I was doing something good, helping you in a way, and he gave me your address, told me he trusts me, made Yoongi hyung say the same to me. So I put on a shit show every morning to get you to talk to me, and I deflated a little by little every time you didn’t, until I convinced myself that I was doing more damage than fixing, so I stopped. Turns out, it worked, and here we are,” he breathes. “So I’m sorry, hyung. Sorry for not saying anything that day, and for not noticing your hardships. I’m sorry for my obsession and my pestering. And I’m sorry for lying. I never meant to hurt you.”

Taehyung says nothing for a long while, not until Woosung locates the playground and they sit down on a bench close by and watch him play. “Have you ever been to Daegu?”

Jeongguk blinks at him, not expecting the question, then he nods. So Taehyung tells him everything. 

Kim Taehyung, December 30, 1991

Kim Taehyung was born to a family of three on the last day of 1991. His brother, Seokjin, was two years his senior. His father, a branch manager for a department store, and his mother, a real estate agent, raised them in Daegu, South Korea.

Daegu is gray, according to Taehyung. Always has been, always will be. Gray walls and gray streets and gray people. Old and lifeless, but as a child, his grandma and grandpa had a strawberry farm, right at the outskirts. It was always bursting with life, and Taehyung learned to appreciate the color in the grayness. They had to close down the farm when he was around 12 years old- too much cost and not enough return. It felt like they were taking the colors away from him. So back at home, Taehyung tried his hardest to keep the color- he put on weird clothes and tried to dye his hair and grow it out, but he had school so he couldn’t.

He started experimenting at 16. He was always confused about his sexuality, dated a couple of girls, kissed some, slept with some, but he liked boys more. Boys are rougher, jagged around the edges, and Taehyung loved that. He came out to his brother but not his parents; they found out during his high school graduation, eventually. Taehyung was making out with a guy, and they caught them feeling each other up under the graduation gowns. They threw a fit, as traditional Korean parents would do- almost did things they would regret, but they later put on smiles and braved through it. His parents thought it would pass, his phases they called it; they thought it would stop when Taehyung starts college, but it didn’t. It was bad enough that he was forced to go to a university in Daegu (after a gap year, to their dismay), but his parents influenced his decision for his major. He grew to like it, though, and it gave him this persona so he embraced it.

When he graduates from university with flying colors, he informs his parents of two things:

1. He is most definitely still gay (Seokjin comes out to his parents as well, but it’s suddenly okay because their perfect eldest can do no wrong).
2. He’s moving to Japan for work.

It was a whim- a decision made at ass o’clock in the morning, influenced by sleep deprivation and neon dicks graffitied on dirty walls, but Taehyung thought it was his greatest idea yet.

His parents did not like it one bit, all of it, but Taehyung had worked part time for all his four years of university. He saved money in bags under his mattress, in his pillows, in his sock drawer. So on the night of his graduation, Kim Taehyung packs a bag, grabs his best friend’s hand, and takes a one-way airplane to Japan. 

Faults in his plan were as follows: his Japanese was mediocre at best, he has no professional work experience, and his money was running out. Jimin teaches him more Japanese as they share a bed in a 4x4 matchbox apartment they rented for cheap when they first arrived. He spams companies with his resumes until one day, one of them replies.

Taehyung’s life turns into an even bigger mess soon after. He convinces himself that the colors are there, but he knows they were dull. It gets bad soon after- Taehyung’s persona goes from eccentric to borderline messed up. He eats weird, dresses weird, speaks weird, goes to weird places and sleeps with weird people. He has a big mouth and even bigger ideas, but no one wanted to listen. His work ethic goes off course, and when the reigns are about to slip out of his hands completely, Park Jimin steps in to save the day.

“How about we start taking care of our skin?”

“Tea time?”

“Let’s take a walk at 7.”

“It’s lunch, snack, tea, dinner.”

“Movie night every Wednesday?”

Taehyung doesn’t notice at first, but Jimin was building routines with him, holding him down. And it worked, it got Taehyung to slow down, so he starts his own routines.

P. I. S. S – Kim Taehyung, a personal project.

Taehyung is not a communist. He doesn’t know what it entails to be one, and he doesn’t really care about the country’s economic standing. But he grew an anti-capitalistic view when he saw a joke on Twitter one day and thought, “wow, this is hilarious. More people should know it.” So he told his coworkers and the people at his favorite café, but still, not many were ready to listen to the pretty boy disappoint them with his ugly words.

The first time the idea came to him was when he was visiting a client and he accidentally pressed the wrong button on the interphone. He didn’t want to sound dumb to the person who picked up, so he told the joke, and the guy laughed at it. It was an eureka moment for Taehyung.

And that was the beginning of the end.

Kim Taehyung only wanted to reflect his anti-capitalistic sentiment on the residents of that pretty neighborhood, especially Kogane No Basho (the building block with the no-pets policy), but instead he found himself falling in love with the screeching and buzzing of apartment 505’s interphone. Fuck Adam Smith! But most importantly fuck the man behind the buzzer who kept Taehyung coming back to Tennoji-Ku district every morning.

“I went home to Daegu during the holidays. Thought I’d see my parents after all this time. It went well the first few days, some pokes and jabs about my life choices, but it was nothing I’m not used to,” Taehyung says, almost out of breath after narrating his life to Jeongguk, hands shaking. “It all went to shit when I accidentally cussed at a family friend. In my defense she was boastful and annoying, but my mother always puts the blame on me. She said some hurtful words, told me I’m good for nothing, and suddenly all the colors were gone and I stormed out of the house. I travelled more than 30 minutes to get to a barber shop- cut my hair off by an old man working on New Year’s Eve. I don’t know why he was still open at that time, even. They say lonely hearts are alike. That’s probably why I found him. I put myself back on a plane here the very next morning, and a day later, I dye my hair black. I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt like I was colorblind. It was suffocating. And I kept bottling it all up until I exploded- that night. I think I was going to do something bad, Jeongguk, but I somehow ended up buzzing on your interphone and it all spilled out of me. The walk back home sobered me up enough to hold myself together again. I started going with Namjoon hyung to work early. I picked up new routines, like the mochis, and I lived in the stuck colors. Until,” he stops, notices how their hands are now intertwined between them, fingers slotting in perfect spaces. Jeongguk must’ve held his hand when it started shaking. “Until you came along. The coffee dates brought me joy. It’s weird, but I looked forward to seeing you, and I let you smash into my routines. When it all fell over that day, I felt like the day I did when my grandparents told me they sold the farm- like the colors were snatched right out of my hands. But you stormed back in again, and I couldn’t resist you. I was always watching you, you know- from the window. You couldn’t see me but I saw you everyday. You were being ridiculous and shameless and even got old lady Nakamura to join you, and at some point I realized that I was seeing colors again. They’re in you.” He says, soft, soft, soft, pretty, and Jeongguk drowns in it. 

Pretty.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I have been seeing all the colors in you from the get go?”

“Probably not.

“Then I’ll have to prove it to you.”

-

“Go out with me.”

Taehyung stops talking, puts down his teacup, and frowns at Jeongguk. “I am out with you right now.” True, technically, they are at the café together, having an afternoon tea.

“No I mean, a let-me-pick-you-up-open-the-car-door-for-you-wine-and-dine-you going out.” Jeongguk says, fiddling with his fingers.

“Like on a date?”

“Like on a date date.” Jeongguk confirms, and Taehyung smiles at him. “Are you always going to interrupt me to ask me stuff?”

Jeongguk’s eyes go impossibly big, like a deer caught in headlights, and he stammers out an apology. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to. I wanted to ask and I’m nervous, and it just came out, I’m-”

“Okay.”

Jeongguk snaps his mouth shut, furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Okay, I’ll go out with you.”

Jeongguk tries to fight the smile threatening to split his face, but he can’t. He’s extremely happy that Taehyung said yes. Jeongguk’s been spamming Yoongi with texts about Taehyung for weeks now.

hyung I want to die his smile is so pretty

he has a mole on the tip of his nose I wanna kiss it

oh my god he talks to sungie in a baby voice

do you think he’d want a summer wedding? Maybe a spring one?

ask him out first, gguk, then plan the wedding

After their talk in the park a month ago, Jeongguk and Taehyung started building their friendship like regular people. They exchanged numbers and now text each other every day around the clock- sometimes one of them will call the other at some weird hour at night, and they would speak for hours, not realizing that they need to sleep. It’s been good, great actually, but they both know that they want more out of this- they can’t deny the attraction or the sexual tension going on.

So Jeongguk makes his mind about finally asking Taehyung on a date when Taehyung texts him “coffee at 4:15?” earlier that day, and his happiness can’t be contained now that Taehyung’s said yes.

They talk on the phone later that evening, while they get ready to sleep, and Jeongguk has this lovesick tone in his voice when they agree on a date and time for their date.

“I can’t wait, bunny.” Taehyung texts him when they hang up, and Jeongguk dies a little.

A couple of days later, on Saturday afternoon, the day of their date, Jeongguk texts to be ready at 6:30, and when he parks his car in front of Taehyung’s building at 6:25, he receives a thumbs up from Mrs. Nakamura.

When Taehyung finally gets down, Jeongguk rushes to open the car door for him. “Hi.” Taehyung says when he reaches the car. He’s in a sheer white blouse with a red shirt underneath, and skinny black pants. His hair looks extra fluffy, and Jeongguk fixates on the glossy red of his lips.

“Hi.” He says back, leaning down to give Taehyung a kiss on the cheek because he can’t help it. Taehyung giggles and the tips of his ears turn the shade of his lip gloss. When Jeongguk makes sure that Taehyung is buckled up and comfortable, he goes back to the driver’s seat and turns on the car.

“So where are we going?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jeongguk as he drives. Jeongguk hums, glances at Taehyung briefly before he says, “I was serious about wine and dine.”

Jeongguk made a reservation at this high-end restaurant two weeks ahead of time. He wasn’t sure if Taehyung would say yes to the date, but he reserved a place anyway (he would’ve gone alone and wallowed in self-pity if Taehyung had said no). Good for him, Taehyung said yes, and it takes them a 30-minute drive to get there.

The place is the real deal- valet parking, a romantic ambiance, soft classical music, dim lighting, and servers in suit uniforms who memorize your order instead of writing it down- which is a little scary because what if someone is allergic to something and the server forgot that small detail? But Jeongguk guesses that such a posh place would not let such slip ups happen (he hopes).

Jeongguk leads Taehyung in with a hand on the small of his back. He pulls his chair out then orders them a(n expensive) bottle of red wine. He helps him make up his mind about what to order, and then proceeds to feed him some warm bread and butter.

The conversation flows naturally, as first date conversations go: favorite childhood memories, childhood pets, embarrassing high school stories, college shenanigans, funny stories from work, pet peeves, and so on. Two hours or so in and they start trash talking other patrons in Korean.

“That dude’s here with his mistress, look how he keeps glancing around.”

“Did she get dressed in the dark?”

“He wanted to propose but she just broke up with him.”

“Oh my god, what’s up with his hair.”

By the end of it, Taehyung is choking on his laughter, snorting wine out of his nose, boxy grin on full display. People are looking at them weird, because they are- so out of place between such people. They try to act proper, but they’re bursting at the seams and they don’t want it to stop.

“This isn’t us, yeah?” Jeongguk says, when people stare at them as they continue to laugh and steal food off of each other’s dessert plates. Taehyung shakes his head no but grins anyway. “I kinda miss mochis.”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose in distaste, “Fuck they’re disgusting. I kinda want some.”

So they order the bill, and fight over who pays. Jeongguk wins at the end, of course, and he ignores Taehyung’s whining.

“At least let’s split it.”

Jeongguk pulls out his card and hands it over to the server as if it’s nothing, “Sorry, babe, but this time’s on me.”

(If Taehyung’s dick twitched at that, he won’t admit it.)

When they leave, Jeongguk parks the car on the side of the road right outside the restaurant and they sit there for about 15 minutes, until Jeongguk makes sure that he is sober enough to drive safely- he drank lightly, but he’s responsible and doesn’t want to risk a DUI. On the drive to the café, Jeongguk’s hand finds Taehyung’s on the center console and grips it tight.

“I fucking hate mochis.” Taehyung says, stuffing his face with stale mochis just because. Jeongguk shares the sentiment, and gulps half his water between each bite to wash down the taste. They don’t stay at the café for too long, but they decide to drive out a little out of the city. Taehyung leads them to some walking trail he found on Google maps.

They hold hands all through their walk, and they giggle like little children. They don’t notice that it’s way past midnight until they realize that the walking trail is empty save for them.

“Tired?” Taehyung asks when Jeongguk stop walking and turns to him. Jeongguk shakes his head slowly, then says, “Thank you for coming tonight.”

Taehyung runs his thumb over Jeongguk’s knuckles and hums, “Thank you for asking me to. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.”

Jeongguk looks at him like he’s seeing him for the first time, then he reaches his free hand to tangle his fingers through the hair at Taehyung’s nape. “It’s getting longer. I like it.”

“Yeah? I was thinking of growing it out again.” Taehyung comments, and at some point their bodies get pressed together, chest to chest.

Jeongguk’s still stroking his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, eyes moving between staring at Taehyung’s eyes and his mouth which still looks red and glossy, even after the lip gloss had long washed off.

“Tae?” Jeongguk’s voice is now a whisper, breath fanning over Taehyung’s face and palm resting against his jaw.

“Yeah, bunny?”

“Can I kiss you?” Jeongguk asks, soft.

“Yes.” Taehyung answers, just as soft, and slowly brings his free hand to rest it against Jeongguk’s chest. They don’t know who leans in first, but when their lips finally meet, it doesn’t matter anymore.

The kiss is slow, tender, barely a touch of lips, and it feels like when you turn on the lights after staying in the dark for too long. Taehyung smiles into the kiss, presses his mouth a little harder against Jeongguk’s after a while, opens his lips to give Jeongguk a hint.

go on, taste the color

And Jeongguk does. He pulls Taehyung even closer, runs his thumb over his cheek, reaches it to his jaw and pulls it down a little until Taehyung’s mouth opens enough to allow Jeongguk’s tongue to pass through. There are no ulterior motives behind it, but now they can taste each other, and they both taste like sugar and an undertone of wine, and the kiss is impossibly soft and sweet.

Like colored mochis.

-

It’s hard for Jeongguk, it really is hard after so many weeks, nay, months of no sexual activity beyond his left hand not to pop a boner in front of Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung in a sheer blouse, Kim Taehyung when he whimpers softly while making out, Kim Taehyung when he smiles into his coffee mug, Kim Taehyung when he smiles, period, or even Kim Taehyung when he’s sweaty and laid on Jeongguk’s mattress, begging… in his dream.

He’s trying really hard to suppress these emotions, they’re taking it slow, yes, for them, for-for Taehyung. They’ve been dating for two months, by then, but the most sexual they’ve gone was shallow grinding while making out- which, admittedly, isn’t even second base. It’s just sad.

“Fuck.” Jeongguk groans staring at his bulge in front of the bathroom mirror. This isn’t a classic case of morning wood, this is so not it when his boxers are brutally wet up the front.

This isn’t the first time that Jeongguk dreams about Taehyung that way, not even the second time. Ever since their relationship (?) started, he’s been seeing Taehyung in a brand new light, seeing Taehyung’s smile directed at him as their lips touch, the tinge of pink on his cheeks and neck from the heat of the atmosphere, the way his shy gaze would flutter down to his neck before he decides to kiss it, or even the way his teeth catch on his bottom lip when Jeongguk catches him staring at his lips.

Jeongguk’s argument? You cannot simply have a boy like that without craving more, even if he were to offer Jeongguk everything, Jeongguk will still be willing to go on his knees for another, will still receive with the same greed and hunger as his first.

The alarm snaps him out of his thoughts- it’s getting late and Taehyung might buzz anytime sooner than later. Cold showers be damned, that’s all he seems to be taking these days. It’s not like he can control it any further, he’s trying but even his sub consciousness is not allowing him anymore. He likes Taehyung, a lot, more than so, likes him to the point of cartwheeling down a bridge if it means he’d be there to greet him down below, but it’s also pushing him to his edge, he craves more than what he can control, finds himself sinking his nails further into his palms during their make outs, to stop himself from pressing him onto a wall, feeling him up down further from his waist all the way to his front and grinding his hand on it.

Jeongguk shakes his wet hair, sobering up. It’s Saturday and he planned a long day with Taehyung, which, granted, might be the death of him but he’s come to be habituated with Taehyung’s presence, that’s why he’s guilty of filling their whole day up with activities.  “Focus on that, Jeongguk, just focus on that today and you’ll be good.” He says, to himself in the mirror willing his boner down.

He distracts himself by going through the day’s details in his head, dressing up in his nice jeans and a sleek blue shirt, tucking it up the front. Tan from Queer Eye says it’s called a “French tuck”, and Jeongguk prides himself in knowing that. He sets his hair naturally into messy waves, touching up on the strands that stick at awkward angles. He’s proud of his extra effort today, pressing down the crease of his shirt, and staring agreeably at his reflection when he hears the buzzer.

You can do this, Jeongguk, you did yesterday while helping him buy new pillows for his bed and you damn will today.

“Good morning.” Taehyung cheers from the screen. His lips are purple tinted and he’s dressed in all flowy white. His pantlegs are rolled up above his ankles, and the material hugs his waits faultlessly. His shirt is silk like and baggy, tucked snuggly into his pants, creating a puffy effect in the middle and giving him sweater paws from where the sleeves are unbuttoned. The whole fit is complimented with pearl earrings and necklace. 

Gorgeous boy, Jeongguk thinks.

“Jeongguk?” He snaps out of his staring spree, buzzing Taehyung in with nervous laughter “Sorry, good morning to you too, hyung.”

He leaves the door open for Taehyung and rushes to the kitchen to fill up their coffee mugs. He pep-talks himself out of his nervousness, breathing in and chanting words of encouragement when he feels two hands lingering at his hips.

“Hi, bunny.”

“Hi, baby.”

“Ready to go to the café?” Taehyung kisses his nape, before resting his chin on his shoulder.  He smells so good, f-.

“Fuck.” Jeongguk’s mouth slips in thought, the coffee kettle threatening to slip as well.

“What?”

“Uhh, I thought we can have the coffee here, instead.”

Taehyung is quick to catch on his nervous front, smiling into his cheek before letting go and taking the mug. “You’re being weird, what’s bothering you?” he blows at his coffee, a bright smile still adoring his face with endearment.

Jeongguk turns around, smiling faintly back at him, his eyes settling on Taehyung’s lips and then on the purple stained mug and gulps aggressively. “Nothing, just woke on the wrong side of the bed I guess.”

They sip their coffee in silence, staring at each other with faint smiles when-

“I like this more,” Taehyung comments. “coffee at yours.” he smiles into his coffee mug and Jeongguk’s liver bursts at the urge of peppering kisses everywhere on his face. He smiles back at him instead, “Then we should always have it here.”

“You’d want that?” Taehyung settles his half-filled cup on the table, Jeongguk’s eyes follow the stain from where he’s resting his back on the kitchen counter facing Taehyung. 

“I’d want anything if you like it.”

“Really?” Taehyung’s biting his bottom lip again.

“Definitely.” Jeongguk doesn’t know who crosses the space between them first, but Taehyung’s lips taste like grapes from the tint and are warm from the coffee. The information flows straight into his groin and he presses his fingers into Taehyung’s back in response to it. Taehyung fits well pressed into him, between his arms, he tilts his head and scratches at his nape to deepen the kiss and Jeongguk is more than happy to oblige, opening his mouth to let Taehyung’s tongue press into his. The sweetness of Taehyung’s coffee clashes with the bitterness of his and he doesn’t know how his hands betray his mind because the slip down to cup aggressively at Taehyung’s ass, kneading it when the other gasps in the shared hot air between them.

“You look so gorgeous today,” Jeongguk bites slightly on Taehyung’s tongue, the older boy whimpering in return and scratching harshly into Jeongguk’s scalp, “My fucking baby, god.”

Jeongguk peppers kisses from his jaw down to his neck, pressing himself impossibly into Taehyung from where the other is pressed on the table’s edge.  His mind is screaming for him to stop, to not cross the line any further.

“Jeongguk.” Taehyung whines, grabbing onto Jeongguk’s shirt when he faintly grinds into him, latching onto his collarbone where the white shirt exposes it- he sinks his teeth gently into his glitter sheened skin before swiping his tongue and sucking at the spot. Jeongguk knows he should stop, knows they won’t do anything of what he planned if he kisses down further, if he pulls at the shirt’s collar down enough to expose the pink areola embellishing his chest.

“Tell me to stop, baby.” he kisses down his chest, dragging the collar with his fingers; he can see his hard nipples press from under the shirt, Taehyung’s fingers trembling as they tug on his hair, pulling his head up and crashing his lips onto his once again. Taehyung kisses him slow, as if to melt the atmosphere down into something less suggestive, but into something sweet and savory. They kiss for a while like this, Jeongguk resting his forehead into the other’s as they breathe each other in to calm down.

“We better leave now if we don’t want to miss the appointment.” Jeongguk finally whispers, kissing Taehyung’s forehead where his was resting before pulling away.

“Appointment?”

-

Taehyung’s eyes are bugged in suspense as he eyes the expensive décor of the hair salon, his hand pressing pressure into Jeongguk’s as if to press for answers, the latter giggling when Taehyung’s stiff body does not respond to his tug into the shop.

“Surprise?” Jeongguk suggests, when the worker greets them and rushes them into their seats. Taehyung only stares at Jeongguk, who’s seated in his own fancy chair from his right. “A h-hair salon?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I thought yo- we’d look great with a makeover.” Jeongguk shrugs, extending his hand to rest it on Taehyung’s own hands that are currently pressed onto each other in unease on his lap. Taehyung looks stressed eyeing the shop and then himself through the mirror in front of him, as if out of place and Jeongguk’s guilt pokes at his chest. “If you’re not ready for this, we can always leave.”

“N-no, let’s do this… It’s time I let go of this hair.” Taehyung hesitates, shifting in his seat and slipping both his hands into Jeongguk’s as if grabbing for support, they’re trembling but Taehyung’s face looks determined. He smiles at his unspoken bravery, he agrees with Taehyung, they both must let go of things that do not necessarily bring them joy anymore or even at all. Marie Kondo, Jeongguk hears you.

“I’m so proud of you, I hope you’re proud of yourself too.”

The hair dresser lays the dye coordination in front of them both, greeting Jeongguk before requesting the worker to get them tea. He explains that Jeongguk is a regular customer and a close friend at that, Jeongguk nodding before reassuring Taehyung that he’s the top of his service. Taehyung is not necessarily nervous about his skill but it sets his mind at ease, however, it does not reside for long when the hair dresser brushes his fingers through his hair, suggesting he goes for blonde, Taehyung hesitates at first, brushing his fingers on the hair samples in front of him, before willing himself to agree, smiling at Jeongguk and then at the hair dresser who claps excitedly.

Jeongguk does not let him go through it alone, requesting he does something as well. The hair dresser suggests he get colored streaks on the front of his bangs, but due to Jeongguk’s job’s strict dress code, they decide against it. Taehyung’s work place is more lenient on personal expression, as their employees are allowed to wear whatever they wanted under a loose dress code and to accessorize or even style in whatever way that seems socially decent- they are artists but still workers after all. With Taehyung’s bleach being set on his head and a few discussions, Jeongguk ends up dyeing his hair a brighter shade of brown and getting a subtle undercut to top it as his own request.

When Taehyung finishes, Jeongguk stares at him in disbelief- in one way he’s so proud of himself for dragging them both for this, but in another way, he’s angry at himself for making it even impossibly harder for himself to control his desires.

Taehyung looks even more gorgeous than before, looking unbelievably brighter in his clothes too, it’s almost blinding with the way he smiles at himself in the mirror and then at Jeongguk who’s standing behind him. He runs his fingers through his hair in awe multiple times as if in disbelief before sighing heavily. “Thank you,” he murmurs, turns around to make himself small into Jeongguk’s arms. “I feel lighter, like some weight got lifted inside of my head… like I can hold my head up.”

Jeongguk wraps his arms around his shoulders, swaying him gently as if in lull. He inhales the chemicals mixed in with the salon’s shampoo from Taehyung’s head in odd gratitude. Seeing Taehyung like this makes some substantial weight lift from his own chest too.

Next on Jeongguk’s list is the art shop, Taehyung marching through the aisles and around them in circles, grabbing brushes and paint bottles at random before hugging them to his chest. He doesn’t really end up buying everything he grabs at the store, settling for yellow and green paint bottles, a coloring book, a paint palette, and a big brush, “I always tell myself to get bigger ones for the background, but almost never do.” He explains.

Jeongguk nods and follows along throughout it all, still awestruck at the change in Taehyung’s whole demeanor. He doesn’t only look better, but he sounds and moves better, he even smiles harder and talks more. It’s amazing how small things hold so much power over people, he thinks. How something we barely pay attention to, so much as a color, can shake Taehyung down into ruins, into remnants of what was held tall and potent.

Colors are the antidote for Taehyung it seems, they serve the purpose of what a vaccine would but for his inner struggles. It’s very intimate, his relationship with this biological visual perception, such a perception being very intricate with the way he lives his life, the way he goes through it and it’s beautiful to hold onto something with such intimacy, to view mere stimulation of electromagnetic radiation in his visible spectrum this way, but it’s also dangerous, crippling, because what serves him as an antidote seems to also function as poison, and that’s the internal battle within Taehyung that Jeongguk has no control over. He cannot deny that it terrifies him, but he also cannot deny that within the human he values so much resides a certain contrast, all he can do now is help Taehyung balance it out.

When they leave the art store, Jeongguk drives them to a sushi joint when Taehyung’s stomach starts rumbling wildly. They settle on a table close to the window, and Taehyung cracks open his new art supplies and stars painting with his fingers, asking Jeongguk to roll up his sleeves every once in a while. When their food arrives, Taehyung wipes his hands with tissues and stains his wooden chopsticks with colors because he’s too lazy to wash off the paint before eating.

“They don’t let me color in my designs, at work, I mean,” Taehyung explains. “They say that clients like that part, that they should get to choose it. It’s my favorite part, though. It’s why I got so excited about doing your living room. I almost died of happiness when I got to choose the colors.”

“Is that why you made my wall neon green?” Jeongguk asks, smiling, then uses his free hand to push Taehyung’s bangs out of his eyes. Taehyung giggles and nuzzles his hand before he comments, “I rolled on the floor in joy when I decided that. You gotta admit that it looks pretty good, though.”

Jeongguk hums, a grin on his face. “Whatever you say, baby.”

The conversation keeps going from there. Jeongguk asks why Taehyung doesn’t paint on canvas to which the older replies that their apartment has no space to fit his art supplies or a painted canvases, so Jeongguk offers his apartment instead and Taehyung says he’ll think about it- on the inside, he melts a little.

They end up at Taehyung’s place in the afternoon because Taehyung spills green paint on his white pants and pouts about it. They run into Namjoon there, typing on his laptop at a 5 words per second speed, probably replying to work-related emails at 7 pm on a Saturday, because that’s apparently something he does. Jeongguk joins him around the kitchen island, and engages in a conversation with him over the pros and cons of Microsoft Outlook as Taehyung disappears into his room to get changed. 5 minutes later, Taehyung comes out in black, ripped jeans and retouched makeup, his lips gleaming purple as he circles his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders from behind and rests his chin on top of his head as they listen to Namjoon colorfully curse someone in three languages.

Soon enough, the couple excuse themselves before Namjoon pops a vein, and they make a strategic exit out of the apartment. They decide to go to the movies, and so they end up in a the movie theater 15 minutes later. There’s a very long line, so they get in it and Taehyung starts contemplating which movie they should watch. Jeongguk, however, is busy focusing on the conversation that the two girls in front of him are having.

“So he asked me to be his girlfriend, and it was so cute.”

It occurs to him, then, that he and Taehyung had never spoken about that, labels or official titles- they kind of just fell into it and went on tens of dates and made out a hundred times and held hands every day. So while Taehyung is in deep thought about choosing the movie, Jeongguk turns to him and says, “Tae, be my boyfriend.”

Taehyung looks up at him and furrows his eyebrows. “What? I t-thought I already was?” He looks mildly concerned, and a lot confused, so Jeongguk adds, “Yeah, but we never made it official, so be my boyfriend.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and says, “Don’t be ridiculous, Gguk. It was official enough.”

Jeongguk scoffs, not believing that Taehyung just wouldn’t say yes. “Do you want me to ask differently? Get down on one knee? I’ll fucking do it.” And when Taehyung rolls his eyes again and doesn’t answer, Jeongguk drops down on one knee and watches as Taehyung’s eyes grow impossibly huge.

“Kim Taehyung,” he says at the same time Taehyung screams, “He’s not proposing!” when people gasp and start looking at them.

“Gguk get the fuck up, everyone’s looking at us!”

“Baby, please be my boyfriend?” Jeongguk has his hands clasped together in a pleading manner as Taehyung tries to pull him up. People start whispering, and Jeongguk smirks as Taehyung’s ears start going red. He stands up anyway, receiving disappointed sighs, and a small shove from Taehyung.

“Okay.”

It was quiet, and Jeongguk would’ve missed it if he hadn’t seen Taehyung’s lips moving.

“Okay what, hyungie?”

“Okay I’ll be your boyfriend, brat.” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest, pretends to be annoyed, but instantly melts when Jeongguk cups his face in his hands and pecks his lips then his nose and then the rest of his face, soft, soft, soft. “I’ll be your boyfriend too, baby.”

The line moves slow, extremely so, and Taehyung gets tired of waiting, so he tugs at Jeongguk’s sleeve and suggests they go over to Jeongguk’s and watch Die Hard instead. Jeongguk agrees directly. They don’t end up going home right after. They get sidetracked and go to the arcade next door to the movie theater instead- they spend almost two hours blowing money on rigged claw machines and they challenge some kids into a dance off. When they notice that time had flew by, they decide to finally leave and they drive home after picking up some snacks from the convenience store.

By the time they get home, it’s already 10 pm, and they’re both pretty exhausted from their day out. Taehyung opens all the snacks while Jeongguk sets up the movie when they settle in, and when Jeongguk settles into the couch, Taehyung crawls closer to him and maneuvers them till Jeongguk is sittings almost sideways, with Taehyung’s back to his chest, legs tangled with each other’s. Taehyung has the bowl of different snacks in his lap, and they watch the first 20 minutes or so in relative silence, lights dimmed low.

Jeongguk gets distracted after that because Taehyung scoots back a little and ends up pressed harder against Jeongguk’s front. He tries to distract himself from his own thoughts, however, by slipping his fingers into Taehyung’s hair. He runs them through the now-blonde locks slowly, at first, then ends up tugging at it a little, watching it spill between his fingers. He doesn’t know how long he keeps doing that, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, so he keeps going until one particular tug of his fingers has Taehyung moaning lowly. Jeongguk tenses up suddenly, hand stilling mid air, but Taehyung is too focused on the movie that he probably doesn’t notice the noise he made.

Too scared to put his hand back in Taehyung’s hair, Jeongguk wraps both arms around Taehyung’s middle instead and nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck. Taehyung had removed the bowl from his lap earlier, and now he curls himself back into Jeongguk’s chest, hands wrapping around his boyfriend’s own. Jeongguk’s nuzzles turn into small kisses soon after, slowly trailing up and down Taehyung’s neck and part of his shoulder that’s exposed from his shirt. Subconsciously, Taehyung rolls his head back and to the side, giving Jeongguk more access to his neck. Jeongguk wastes no time in turning his kisses into open-mouthed ones, more intent behind them. One of his hands slowly trails down Taehyung’s stomach, and creeps in under his shirt, warm skin meeting warm skin. Jeongguk’s pretty sure that Taehyung isn’t paying attention to Die Hard anymore, because other things are hard right now, and they demand his full attention.

Jeongguk’s fingers splay on Taehyung’s stomach softly, and his lips kiss harder on the smooth skin of his neck and shoulder, making his intentions very clear- this is not stopping where it usually does.

Jeongguk’s lips feel like flower petals on his skin. “Tell me when it gets too much for you, baby.” The younger whispers then, trailing his lips on the shell of his ear before grabbing it with his teeth, lightly nabbing it before letting it go. His hot breath hits Taehyung’s ear and his fingers twitch from where they’re laid on Jeongguk’s thighs now, squeezing them in confirmation. He digs his nails into them and scratches trails up both of them when Jeongguk starts sucking hard below his ear- always a weak spot. He wonders how Jeongguk knew, or if he knew at all, but his thoughts fall short when Jeongguk laps his tongue on that spot, pressing lightly before letting go with a faint swipe- it feels like honey being spread on bread and it shakes Taehyung from the inside, raises the hairs on his nape readily.

It’s scary how much effect Jeongguk can have with bare chase, loosening Taehyung into a puddle of mess before the actual chase begins- the thought of it fries his brain with excitement, sets it on fire from the electricity that zaps from Jeongguk’s tongue straight into his cerebrum, all in mutual anticipation of tonight. He’s extra sensitive, his senses hyper aware of the temperature rise in the room; it’s extra stuffy, filled with the stench of lust and raw sexual tension.

The night sky can be seen from the window in front of then, city lights dwindling into suggestions of yellow and deteriorating slowly into white. It hits Taehyung’s sight and he thinks, colors. He thinks colors, when Jeongguk holds him tighter, Taehyung’s head falling back effortlessly on his shoulder as the other focuses his concentration back on his neck and it turns him into a breathing mess because Jeongguk nibbles gently on the skin, maneuvering around it in little approaches, as if to not mark as hard, as if to not startle Taehyung into changing his mind. Jeongguk’s hand fits naturally on Taehyung’s abdomen, his fingers brushing the little hint of belly hair on his stomach. “God, I’ve wanted this so bad.” Jeongguk whispers again, kissing bite marks he leaves victoriously before inhaling Taehyung’s scent in.

Taehyung tenses up between his arms, Jeongguk’s fingers trailing upwards and tracing the little dents of his ribcage under his skin, going through them one by one till they halt at his nipple, hovering above it, and it tickles Taehyung who bites his bottom lip in efforts to stop the whine he produces. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” Jeongguk’s voice is hoarse, thick and low- sensual. Taehyung doesn’t even trust himself enough to speak, nodding stiffly before the small whine makes its way out of his throat.

Die Hard still plays in the background, sounds of car horns and gunfire muffled in Taehyung’s ears as Jeongguk’s breath hits his face and mixes with the sounds of his own breath that’s sneaking from his nostrils. Jeongguk teases, brushes his thumb on Taehyung’s nipple again and again, before pressing and trailing circles at the now hard nub, his other hand tangled into his hair and pulling on it softly to keep him grounded. The sensation drives Taehyung’s back to arch just enough and for his whines to spill into the air. The tug on his hair hardens at the reaction, Jeongguk brushing harder at his nipple before pinching it and Taehyung can already see bursts of colors from behind his eyelids. 

He doesn’t have time to settle down before Jeongguk is switching them on the sofa, dragging himself from behind Taehyung to crawl quickly atop of him. Taehyung’s back hits the sofa with a soft thud, Jeongguk wasting no time before he’s kissing and licking at his lips, Taehyung pliant, opening his mouth at the demand.

The kiss is heated, deeper than any of their previous ones, and it’s full of intent. Taehyung can feel it by the way their teeth clash together, by the way Jeongguk scrapes hard on his bottom lip, dragging it before diving back in to swipe at the back of his teeth- it’s messy and full of spit but it makes Taehyung’s eyes want to roll back and then out of his skull, makes him spread his legs further for Jeongguk to fit between them, to press harder onto him, and he can’t stop the low moan that escapes, can’t stop another when Jeongguk grabs his thighs as if massaging them gently, trailing his hands down slowly and then rapidly back up.

Taehyung can sense the tremble in them, can sense the tremble in his own hands as they tug on Jeongguk’s hair, or as they trace his back and his shoulders with hasty movements. He can’t help the franticness of it because he wants to touch, needs to feel Jeongguk as the subtle hint of back muscle flexes in return on his palms from under the shirt, and he tugs at it. He wants it off, wants everything off, wants skin on skin.

Jeongguk is sucking at his neck again when Taehyung grinds up on him in desperation. This seems to surprise the other- “O-oh.” Jeongguk breathes out as he grabs Taehyung’s hips, pressing them down in warning when Taehyung grinds up again. “Play nice, baby boy.”

Taehyung can feel Jeongguk’s hard length as he grinds down to meet his own in response. Taehyung’s whines, can’t seem to stop, the nickname has his back arching from where Jeongguk’s hands press hard, “F-fuck you already feel so good, Gguk.” knows they’ll bruise for weeks.

The kisses become more desperate, both of them licking lewdly into each other’s mouths and Taehyung feels impossibly tighter in his pants, hums in satisfaction when Jeongguk pulls back to bunch his shirt up, looking already fucked, swollen and red in the lips. It swells Taehyung’s chest with pride and satisfaction, staring back at him with hooded eyes when Jeongguk smirks, exposing his nipples and dipping his face to coat one of them with spit then touch it with his thumb. He latches onto the other then, licking kitten-like before sucking it into his hot mouth.

Taehyung’s fingers find place in Jeongguk’s scalp, scratching it from the stimulation. He swings his free arm on his face, bites at the crook of his elbow to control the sounds that threaten to spill. The mouth on his nipple stops, then he feels Jeongguk tug his arm off his face. “I want to hear all of it,” he demands, crawling back up to peck Taehyung’s lips. “I want to know exactly how I make you feel.” Jeongguk’s gaze is firm, boring into Taehyung’s eyes, unblinking. This is not a request, his eyes say and it sends chills down Taehyung’s spine, straight to his dick, making it twitch. Yes, Taehyung’s eyes speak back. I’ll listen, I’ll be good for you.

“Good boy.” Jeongguk whispers into his mouth, plants a kiss there, on his nose, and on his cheeks before pressing hard on his forehead. Taehyung tries to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the praise when he feels Jeongguk clutching the waistband of his jeans, slowly grabbing the zipper and pulling down. Taehyung purrs at the little sense of freedom he feels, then Jeongguk is grabbing his shirt still bunched up on his chest, pulling it all up and throwing it on the floor. He kneels down then, freeing him fully from the constriction of his jeans before throwing them as well, Taehyung’s aching cock fully evident in print on his thin white boxers. Jeongguk’s mouth goes dry at the scene, his finger brushing the wet spot forming on the front teasingly. He can feel Taehyung’s dick throb and leak from under his touch and he relishes in it. “Fuck, baby, I can’t wait to taste you.”

The whole atmosphere is getting stuffy for Taehyung and he’s suffocating from it- he wants things to go faster but cannot deny Jeongguk the pleasure of his own pace. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” Jeongguk kisses him everywhere, anywhere he can reach from his chest down to his leaking tip, Taehyung groaning in sensitivity, grabbing the hem of Jeongguk’s shirt before tugging it off. His mouth waters at the broad shoulders and defined chest exposed in front of his eyes, and he lets his hand roam down the younger’s toned abs and he can feel Jeongguk’s muscle tense up and flex under his touch. His hands wander down until they reach the waistband of Jeongguk’s jeans, looking up at him for permission, the other nodding before reaching for Taehyung’s hand in his own and leading it to the zipper.

They kiss slow this time, savoring the new taste of yearning between them, Jeongguk’s hands working on undressing himself out of his pants. He stands off the couch, fully tugging his pants off until they’re pooled at his ankles when Taehyung stops him.

“Woah wait, is this thing going to stare at me all night?”

Jeongguk looks around, surprised by the question, “What thing?” He looks at his crotch in confusion till Taehyung points at his knee.

“Oh the tattoo! Yeah…Dingles is another story for later.” Jeongguk chuckles, tugging at his pants with his feet to get them off completely. He hovers back above Taehyung, reaching towards his neck when the other stops him with a palm to his chest.

“D-dingles?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung chuckles, “I can’t believe I’m still hard after this.” Then he’s reaching down to cup Jeongguk through his boxers, and the mood switches back in an instant. Jeongguk groans at the sensation, rutting leisurely into Taehyung’s palm and licking savoringly into Taehyung’s mouth. He can feel the pre-come smear on his hand from Jeongguk’s boxers, his mouth going slack with the need to taste, to feel the bitterness on his tongue and he moans at the thought. “Baby wants it?” Jeongguk asks, Taehyung nodding desperately.  “Yes,” he whines. “Wanted it for weeks, please.” Taehyung’s hand is frantic when he reaches down the waistband but Jeongguk’s is quick to grab it, tugging it up to Taehyung’s face. “Then lick it.”

“Jeongguk, please.”

“I said, lick it if you want to taste, baby.”

The tone sends shivers into Taehyung’s bones, Jeongguk’s eyes unwavering above him, watching as he laps his tongue on his palm, licks the viscous liquid out of it. It’s thick and bitter and sticks in his mouth but his eyes flutter shut, quivering when Jeongguk pulls his boxers down in one tug, Taehyung’s hard cock bouncing on his stomach, red and swollen. Jeongguk strokes it slowly, watching Taehyung’s face scrunch up at the contact. “So fucking pretty, just like the rest of you.”

Taehyung moans lowly at the sensation and the words, then he feels Jeongguk’s hands wrap around his waist and lift him up. “Jeongguk wha-”

Jeongguk puts him down so he’s standing on the fluffy gray carpet in the middle of the room, grabbing his jaw softly, and turning his face towards the neon green wall that’s now in front of him. Jeongguk kisses him once, twice, before he says, “Now I’m gonna suck you off and you’re gonna watch yourself, okay?” Taehyung can see their shadows play on the wall from where the TV screen illuminates light- he can see his own hair sticking out, his dick hovering just above his stomach, he can see the way Jeongguk’s hand is pressing on his jaw, the way his other hand grabs his length slowly, giving it a few tugs and he whimpers at that.

Jeongguk doesn’t do anything further until Taehyung nods, and then he’s sinking to his knees, planting soft kisses on Taehyung’s soft thighs and belly. He teases, in a straight Jeongguk fashion, making Taehyung squirm and grow impatient. Jeongguk senses the older’s impatience, so he takes mercy, and after a final kiss to Taehyung’s navel, Jeongguk’s mouth latches at the tip of his cock, giving it kittenish licks before sucking it lightly then swiping his tongue down and licking his balls, his free hand massaging them, and all Taehyung can do is watch and moan, his hands grabbing Jeongguk’s shoulders for support, back arching up and away from Jeongguk’s mouth, desperate to get away from the teasing of the other’s tongue as it licks and swirls at his tip, but Jeongguk’s mouth follows, his hands holding Taehyung’s hips to keep him in place.

“Jeong-guk p-p-please.” Taehyung’s moans are frantic- he can hardly catch his breath and the stimulation is starting to deliciously hurt, but Jeongguk only sucks at the tip, letting go of it with a pop.

“You’re not watching, baby.” He says, his hand now stroking Taehyung, pushing him closer and closer to the tipping point. Taehyung knows Jeongguk is edging him with the wall being the sole purpose of it, but he can’t bring himself to deny him anything. So with nails scratching Jeongguk’s shoulders, eyes almost teary and blurring his vision, he marvels at the sight of Jeongguk’s mouth stretched around his length, before he turns his face to stare at their shadows, watching as Jeongguk bobs his head up and down his length.

When Taehyung’s whines start getting higher, Jeongguk pulls back with a final suck, then, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, fuck.” He kisses his way up Taehyung’s stomach to his chest as he stands up, sucking at his pectoral with the intent to bruise. “Good, you were so good, my baby, watching yourself getting sucked like that.” Taehyung relishes at the praise again and before he knows, they’re kissing once more. Jeongguk breaks their kiss and starts hastily walking them into the hallway, towards his bedroom, tugging at his wrists and hands barely to himself. When they enter the room, Jeongguk guides Taehyung to lie down, arranging the pillows around him till he’s comfortable, then walks to his bathroom and returns with a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He places them on the bedside table, and Taehyung smiles at him, making grabby hands until Jeongguk is back on top of him, kissing him.

“I have them in the bathroom cabinet because Woosung is always around and he’s nosy. I’m not ready for the birds and bees talk yet, so I’m not taking any chances of him finding them.” Jeongguk explains, even though Taehyung didn’t ask. Taehyung giggles, rests his hands on Jeongguk’s neck, then says, “Please don’t talk about the kid when you’re about to have your dick in me.”

“I’m actually about to have my fingers in you, babe.” Jeongguk replies, snarky. He scuffs at Taehyung’s pout, pecking it.

“Kill the mood and you won’t be having anything anywhere, brat.” Taehyung bites Jeongguk’s bottom lip, but he’s silenced when a hand brushes against his still very hard dick.

“You have a big attitude, baby,” Jeongguk whispers, kissing the shell of Taehyung’s ear, his hand trailing down between Taehyung’s legs till one of his fingers ghosts over his hole, and Taehyung whimpers. “Maybe I should just leave you like this since you wanna be a meanie.”

“N-no!” Taehyung hurriedly grabs Jeongguk’s hand that’s starting to pull away, and the younger smirks, but softens when Taehyung pouts at him again.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Jeongguk takes off his boxers when he stands up to grab the lube and a condom from the box, and he hears Taehyung suck in a breath. He suddenly feels overwhelmed by his boyfriend’s gaze, but Taehyung reaches towards him when he kneels between his thighs, and he trails one finger along the underside of Jeongguk’s hard length, watching the younger suppress a groan. “Look at you, bunny. Fuck- calling me pretty when you look like that?”

Jeongguk’s head is reeling, and he kinda wants to just let Taehyung wreck him, but he promised he would take care of the older boy, and he won’t go back on his word. So to assert his dominance, he gently pushes Taehyung back till he’s lying down, and he hovers over him, allowing their cocks to rub against each other. He kisses his boyfriend as the other tries to grind up into the feeling, but Jeongguk’s hand finds its way to Taehyung’s hips and he pins him down, restricting his movements. That makes Taehyung whine more, but he stops when Jeongguk pushes his thighs apart with his knee and proceeds to coat his fingers with lube.

Once his fingers are wet enough, Jeongguk circles Taehyung’s rim, eyes focused on the older’s. “Okay, baby?” He asks, waiting for Taehyung’s confirming nod before he starts pushing one of his fingers inside. The slide is hard at first, but Jeongguk works Taehyung’s hole open slowly, patiently, waiting for the tight ring of muscle to give under his prodding. He litters ghost kisses on Taehyung’s thigh in comfort, the first finger moves in and out slowly, rubbing against Taehyung’s walls with every thrust, and soon, Taehyung asks for more. Jeongguk pulls out one finger and replaces it with two, fucking them inside slowly, then scissoring them open, all while his free hand rubs comforting circles on Taehyung’s hip and belly. Two fingers turn into three when Taehyung grinds down, and by the time Jeongguk feels that Taehyung’s loose enough, his boyfriend’s hole is sopping wet and gaping, ready.

Jeongguk’s mouth waters at the sight, and it’s his sheer self-control that keeps him from coming untouched. When Jeongguk pulls out his fingers, Taehyung grabs the condom wrapper and sits up a little to help his boyfriend. As pure self-indulgence, Taehyung wraps his hand around Jeongguk’s cock, smearing the pre-cum leaking from the slit all along the length, feeling how hot and heavy it is in his palm. Then, he rolls the condom on it, lubes it up, and strokes it until Jeongguk’s hand is on his wrist, peeling his hand away.

Jeongguk takes his place back between Taehyung’s thighs, and guides his cock to his entrance, circling the rim with the head until he hears Taehyung’s shaky breath. It hits him then, that all of this is real- Taehyung is actually there with him, beautiful and glowing, not just a pigment of his dreams. With his own shaky breath, he reaches for Taehyung’s hands with his own and holds them next to the other’s head, reaching down to drop a kiss where their fingers intertwine. 

Taehyung smiles sweetly before he nudges Jeongguk to push his cock inside, surprising Taehyung who lets out a pleasured moan at the stretch. Jeongguk is gentle still, pushing the rest of the way inside slowly, until he bottoms out a few moments later. Once fully inside, he allows Taehyung the time to adjust.

“Gguk, oh.” Taehyung mumbles, feeling full, Jeongguk fitting inside him just right.

When Taehyung’s hips start moving, Jeongguk pulls out then thrusts back in, and does it over and over, maintaining a slow pace, and the intensity of it knocks the breath out of Taehyung. “Fuck, I like you so much.” Taehyung only moans in response. Jeongguk’s hands untangle from Taehyung’s to hold his hips as support, Taehyung’s hands to hold him close, chest to chest- he can feel their heartbeats synching together. When Jeongguk’s slide gets easier, he gently lifts Taehyung’s thighs and presses them up towards his chest, which changes the angle of his thrusts, making his cock reach deeper into Taehyung.

“You’re so tight, Tae. Feel so hot around me, fuck,” Jeongguk says, watches Taehyung’s half-hooded eyes and parted mouth, he increases his pace then. “Tell bunny how his cock makes you feel, baby. Does it feel good, hmm?”

Taehyung groans, hands balling into fists around the sheets, Jeongguk’s head falling on the crook of his neck, breaths shallow as he thrusts again. Taehyung can feel Jeongguk’s dick get closer and closer to his sensitive spot with each one. “Feel so g-good, b-bunny. Doing me so good.” Taehyung’s words seem to rile Jeongguk up, and his hips start moving faster, thrusts deep and fast, and it’s soon enough that he hits a spot in Taehyung that has the older boy screaming Jeongguk’s name. Jeongguk zeroes in on that spot, and he pistons his hips, fucking into Taehyung with vigor.

“Gguk,” Taehyung moans, “B-bunny I’m close.”

Jeongguk knows that what he’s about to do is mean, cruel, but he can’t help it- been thinking about it for weeks. His thrusts into Taehyung aggressively, once, twice, three times, until Taehyung tenses up a little, and then he stops. Taehyung cries out a disappointed sound, legs flopping down on the mattress when Jeongguk pulls out and lets his legs go.

“What the fuck, Jeongguk, I was so close.” He grumbles, glaring at Jeongguk who just smirks and bites a bruise on his inner thigh.

“I know, baby,” he says, teasing, running a cruel finger on Taehyung’s angry-red cock. “Bunny’s so mean, yeah?”

Taehyung pouts but says nothing. Jeongguk sits on the edge of the bed and manhandles Taehyung into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist. Taehyung looks at him, confused, “W-what’s going on?” Jeongguk smirks as he stands up, holding Taehyung tightly, pressing him into his chest. Taehyung’s confusion grows when Jeongguk starts walking back into the hallway, but he gulps when he’s suddenly pressed against the wall- the neon green wall.

“You thought you can get away with the wall, baby?”

Taehyung catches on the meaning behind the words, and he gulps again. “Are you gonna fuck me against the wall?” He wraps his legs tighter around Jeongguk’s waist, arms around his neck, and hands buried in his hair.

Jeongguk reaches one hand down and guides his cock towards Taehyung’s hole, and when the head catches the rim, he leans his face towards Taehyung’s ear and whispers, “I’m gonna wreck you against the wall.” Then he thrusts up at the same time he sinks Taehyung down, bottoming up. It’s fast and brutal after that- The mood completely different from that of the bedroom’s. Jeongguk’s thrusts are calculated and snappy, and they’re both extremely riled up, pleasure coiled tight in their bellies. It doesn’t take long, and they both know it wouldn’t because they could feel the heat lick at their bones. Both boys are telling each other they’re close, repeating each other’s names as a mantra, a symphony between their moans and whines. It takes a couple of thrusts against Taehyung’s prostate to get him to cum untouched, head thrown back against the wall, eyes closed, and mouth parted as he spills between their bodies, white painting both their abdomens.

The blissed and fucked-out look on his face is what does it for Jeongguk. His thrusts get erratic and sloppy and then the rubber-band in his belly snaps and he’s cumming, but he rides his orgasm out with slow thrusts until he slows down to a halt. His knees are shaky and his chest is heaving as he pulls out and lowers Taehyung down onto the gray carpet in front of the wall. Taehyung’s eyes are hooded and unfocused, but he reaches up for kisses the moment his back hits the floor, and Jeongguk kisses his mouth slowly. After letting Taehyung’s mouth go, Jeongguk trails kisses down his chest until he reaches the trails of cum, but instead of stopping, he licks the white substance off, knocking a breath out of Taehyung who moans at the obscenity of Jeongguk’s bold actions. Jeongguk only smiles when he swallows, and Taehyung moans again.

“You okay, baby?”

“I’m fucking fantastic.”

Jeongguk chuckles, then takes off the condom, ties it up, and disposes it in the nearest trash can before he sits back down next to his boyfriend, a bottle of wine and two glasses now on the floor beside them. Jeongguk pours them quarter a glass each before laying down, his arms curling around him and pulling him in. Both boys ignore the mess they’ve made everywhere as they curl up against each other and spend minutes kissing languidly and staring at the night sky from the window and sipping the red liquid. Jeongguk’s fingers are buried in Taehyung’s hair, untangling the strands and patting it down soothingly when Taehyung rests his head on his chest, then says, “Thank you.”

“For what, baby?”

“For everything,” Taehyung says, “For today, for my hair and the paint and the food and the fun and the sex. It was perfect.”

Jeongguk smiles softly at him, pecks his nose and comments, “You’re perfect,” then, “anything for you, my baby.” Taehyung smiles softly into his skin, eyes drowsy when they stare up at Jeongguk.

“So, the edging and the wall-fucking were my punishment for the neon green?” Taehyung mumbles moments later. Jeongguk giggles, he giggles, then says, “The wall was for my self-indulgence, but also a final word.”

“And the edging?”

“So I could rile us both up enough so we could cum fast. I don’t think I could’ve held you against the wall for much longer.”

Taehyung stares at him eyes glassy and a bit red. He lets out a lethargic chuckle, mouth boxy and eyes scrunched. “You dork,” he says between it. “You just turned the sexiest experience of my life into the dorkiest.”

“What?” Jeongguk whines, smiling. “You try fucking me against a wall and see if you can hold me up that long. That shit is tiring, babe.”

“Okay, bunny.”

“I’m serious, Tae!”

When their wine glasses are empty and they’re both sated and half asleep, Jeongguk clasps Taehyung’s hand and stands up.

“Sleep?”

It’s soft, like a child asking for something, and Taehyung just nods, tightening his hold on Jeongguk’s hand as they walk to the bedroom where they crawl under the covers and press impossibly close to each other.

It’s later, between reality and dreamland, when Taehyung feels Jeongguk getting up, and a minute later, he feels himself getting wiped clean with a warm, damp towel, before Jeongguk slips a t-shirt over his head and lays him back down. Jeongguk only puts on a pair of boxers before he slots himself right back where he was, pulling his boyfriend towards him.

Taehyung’s head is on Jeongguk’s chest, and the younger keeps kissing it, whispering to him, “My baby, you’re so colorful.”

Taehyung, for the first time in so long, sees the colors too.

-

Jeongguk wakes up feeling incredibly warm- a pleasant warmth pressing up against his side. His eyes peel open slowly, adjusting to the sunlight that has filtered into the room. When his eyes are fully open, he turns his head to his left and there he is- Taehyung’s face is pressed up against Jeongguk’s shoulder, head pillowed on his arm (which is numb as heck but Jeongguk takes it with stride. Anything for his baby). His face looks relaxed, lips parted slightly and eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He looks soft, and Jeongguk’s heart skips a beat (or six), and he tries to resist the urge to pepper kisses all over Taehyung’s face, but he can’t. He kisses his closed eyelids first, then his forehead, then his nose, the apples of his cheeks, his chin, and then finally, his pouted lips. It’s a featherlight kiss, but Taehyung feels it anyway, and pouts his lips further, as if asking for more, and Jeongguk complies, dropping another kiss on his lips, and then another and another until Taehyung cracks open one eye.

“Coffee?” Jeongguk asks, lips hovering over Taehyung’s, and the older just puckers his lips and demands a kiss. After getting it, though, his eyes close again, and Jeongguk watches him fall back asleep. Jeongguk gets up, anyway, and walks to the kitchen to turn on the electric kettle.

As he waits for the water to boil, Jeongguk readies two mugs and puts in just the right about of coffee, creamer, and sugar, but as he turns off the kettle, he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and a warm pair of lips make contact with his exposed back.

“G’morning, sunshine.” Jeongguk says, putting his hands on Taehyung’s arms, rubbing his thumbs against the smooth skin of his forearms.

“Why did you get out of bed?” Taehyung mumbles, voice muffled because his lips are still pressed against Jeongguk’s back. Jeongguk chuckles a little, then says, “Because I wanted to make us coffee.” Taehyung doesn’t seem too happy with the response, so he whines a “but I want you.”

Jeongguk turns in his arms and leans his back against the counter, wrapping his own arms around Taehyung’s shoulders, pulling him in. “Aw, baby wants Ggukie?” he says, before Taehyung leans forward and slots their mouths together. The kiss starts out slow, just lips sliding against each other, but Taehyung has other plans when presses harder against Jeongguk’s mouth, coaxing his lips apart to run his tongue against his teeth. The coffee mugs are forgotten on the counter as the two boys kiss, hands dipping lower and lower before Jeongguk’s hand slips under Taehyung’s (well, actually, Jeongguk’s) shirt, and oh.

Jeongguk’s hand meets the bare skin of Taehyung’s lower back, and as it trails lower, it ends up against his ass, warm skin against warm skin. “Oh, my God, fuck, you’re so hot,” Jeongguk mumbles when he pulls back slightly, and Taehyung smirks against his lips. “Let’s go back to bed, yeah?” Taehyung doesn’t protest because they’re both starting to get hard, just grabs Jeongguk by the waistband of his boxers and pulls him all the way back to the bedroom. Once inside, the two boys find each other’s lips frantically, walking sideways and backwards blindly until Taehyung’s knees touch the side of the bed and they tumble into it together. They make out for quite some time, with Taehyung splayed on the bed and Jeongguk hovering over him. Taehyung loses the shirt somewhere along the way, and his naked skin presses against Jeongguk in all the right places, and when Jeongguk’s too preoccupied with exploring Taehyung’s mouth, he feels a firm hand cup him through his boxers and he keens, back arching and crotch pressing harder into Taehyung hand. “Fuck, baby.” Taehyung groans, and Jeongguk whines, grinding his hips down, seeking relief for his aching cock.

“Tae,” Jeongguk says, frantic, whiny as Taehyung dips his hand into his boxers and grabs his cock softly, stroking it without the fabric in between. “Tae,” Jeongguk whines again, and Taehyung looks up at him through hooded eyes. “I wanna ride you.”

Taehyung’s hand stills, and a sound in between a choke and a groan leaves his lips as his eyes widen at Jeongguk’s statement. “Please let me ride you, hyung.” Jeongguk whines again, rutting against Taehyung’s still hand. Taehyung trembles a little, but he says, “Yeah, yeah, bunny.” Jeongguk peels himself away from Taehyung for a second, kneeling on his knees to get rid of his boxers and fetch the lube and condom from the bedside table where they last left them.

“Sit against the headboard, hyung.” Jeongguk says, and Taehyung arranges the pillows behind his back so he’s propped up against the headboard, legs spread as Jeongguk crawls between them, cock hard and red at the tip already. Taehyung can sense that Jeongguk’s getting into a headspace, wildly contrasting to the one he was in the night before, calling Taehyung “hyung” instead of “baby”. Taehyung doesn’t mind it, though, the switching- he actually loves it, and the thought of Jeongguk wrecking himself on Taehyung’s dick has the elder getting impatient.

“Let me prep you, baby.” Taehyung says, grabbing the bottle of lube out of Jeongguk’s hand, guiding the younger boy into his lap, chest to chest, legs spread apart. Jeongguk’s lost in the feeling of Taehyung lips and tongue on his neck that he doesn’t notice that Taehyung has coated his fingers with lube, and one of his fingers has started circling his rim. The younger shivers at the touch, pressing his chest harder against Taehyung’s, hands wrapping around his neck.

“Ready?” Taehyung asks, and Jeongguk doesn’t answer with words, but pushes his hips down on Taehyung’s hand. Taehyung takes it as a yes, and slowly starts pushing his digit in. When it’s at the second knuckle, he takes it out  and then pushes back in, stretching Jeongguk’s rim slowly. It’s not long before Jeongguk’s a wet mess on Taehyung’s lap, and the elder is three-fingers deep inside of him. Jeongguk’s whining and keening as Taehyung fucks his hole with his fingers, stretching him well enough.

When Jeongguk starts grinding his hips on Taehyung’s fingers, the other deems him ready, and he slowly pulls out, wiping his hand on the bedsheets messily. Jeongguk grabs hold of the condom wrapper and tears it open, rolling the latex on his boyfriend’s cock, then he grabs the bottle of lube and pours a generous amount on it, using his hand to stroke it once, twice, before he discards the bottle to the side and positions himself on Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung’s hands find home on Jeongguk’s tiny waist, holding him gently as the younger holds his cock in position and grinds his hips on it slow before the head catches his rim and he starts sinking on it, slow, slow, slow, whimpering at the stretch as Taehyung’s thumbs rub circles on the skin of his waist.

When he’s fully seated on his boyfriend’s dick, Jeongguk grabs Taehyung’s face and crashes their mouths together, kissing him hungrily. A minute later, Jeongguk starts grinding his hips, moving slowly, barely raising himself off Taehyung’s cock. It’s slow for a while, soft kisses and grinding hips, and low whines. But when Taehyung opens his mouth to praise Jeongguk in his deep, fucked-out voice, something in Jeongguk snaps.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight, baby. Doing so well.”

Jeongguk keens at the praise, then puts his hands on Taehyung’s shoulders and uses them as leverage to raise his hip as high as he can, until the head of Taehyung’s cock is at his rim, then he lowers himself back down, fast, causing both of them to moan loudly at the drag. Taehyung’s fingers are digging indents into Jeongguk’s waist as the younger starts riding him with vigor, tight walls clenching around Taehyung’s dick. At one particular thrust, Jeongguk throws his head back in pleasure and moans loudly, thighs flexing on each side of Taehyung’s hips. “Feels so g-good, hyung.” He whines, increasing the speed of his hips until he’s practically bouncing on Taehyung’s cock.

“I know, baby,” Taehyung growls, one of his hands trailing up Jeongguk’s taut abdomen until his fingers brush over one of his nipples, and Jeongguk positively keens, back arching into the touch. Taehyung brings his other hand up and brushes the pads of his thumbs over both of Jeongguk’s nipples, making the younger squirm on his lap, hips stuttering but not stopping even for a second. “You look so good on hyung’s lap, Ggukie.”

Jeongguk’s hips slow down when Taehyung dips his head and latches his mouth on Jeongguk’s right nipple, tongue circling the bud and teeth scraping against it lightly as the younger buries one hand into Taehyung’s blonde locks, pushing his face further into his chest. “Hyung,” he whines, and Taehyung gives his nipple a harsh suck before he lets it go with a pop, kissing his way to the other nipple. “Fuck, Tae.”

Jeongguk’s hips start to slow down considerably, his thighs burning at the strain, and when Taehyung notices the younger’s struggles, he pulls him closer, then bends his knees and plants his feet on the mattress, giving Jeongguk purchase and changing the angle of the thrusts a little. Jeongguk’s hand that is not in Taehyung’s hair lands on Taehyung’s knee, and he uses the support to quicken his pace, regaining his momentum and bouncing up and down with renowned vigor. Taehyung sighs a little when he lets go of his boyfriend’s nipples and watches his face instead- Jeongguk looks completely fucked out into another space, eyes closed, lips parted and chest heaving as he grinds his hips harsher onto Taehyung’s lap, soft whines and moans spilling out as pleasure consumes him. Taehyung decides to help out, so he presses his feet further into the mattress and thrusts his hips up as Jeongguk lowers himself down, and now he can feel his dick deeper in Jeongguk. They both groan at the sudden change, but Jeongguk’s eyes snap open as Taehyung thrusts up again, and he starts tripping on his words, “Good,” he moans, eyes staring at Taehyung’s face. “Hyung, hyung. Oh, my God, hyung. Feels so good.” And then his eyes are rolling into the back of his skull, moans loud, when Taehyung pulls him closer, pressing their fronts together even more. His dick lays hard between their stomachs, dragging against Taehyung’s abdomen with every bounce, leaking pre-cum and so, so red at the tip.

“You’re doing so well, bunny. Making hyung feel so good.” Taehyung praises, then snakes his hand between their bodies and grabs Jeongguk’s cock, jerking him at the pace of their thrusts. Jeongguk is a whining mess on top of him, hands moving frantically from Taehyung’s knee to his hair, then his chest, and into his own hair, tugging at it when Taehyung thrusts up harshly, and the tip of his dick drills right into Jeongguk’s prostate, making him scream Taehyung’s name.

“T-there, Tae. There, fu- don’t stop.”

Taehyung keeps thrusting upwards, and Jeongguk grinds downwards with every thrust, clenching tighter around Taehyung’s dick, making the drag even more delicious. The room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, loud moans, and heavy breaths, sending both boys into a frenzy, skin hot and stomachs coiling with pleasure.

“I’m so close, baby. Keep going,” Taehyung says, pulling his head back to watch Jeongguk’s pleasured face. “You’re the best, bunny,” The pleasure in Taehyung’s stomach coils tighter as Jeongguk clenches around him as his pace quickens, “You should see yourself right now, taking hyung’s cock so well.” Jeongguk’s eyes roll at the praise, thighs shaking as he delivers two harsh grinds that have Taehyung squirming then cumming, spine straightening and hand tightening its hold on Jeongguk’s dick. Taehyung’s sure that Jeongguk’s weight on top of him is the only thing keeping him from astral-projecting into another dimension. Jeongguk doesn’t stop though, keeps riding Taehyung through his orgasm, fucking himself on his boyfriend’s softening dick. It takes Taehyung a minute to regain control over his body, and even though the overstimulation on his cock starts to hurt, he doesn’t stop Jeongguk, but he quickens the pace of his wrist, jerking Jeongguk off faster, rubbing the head of his cock between his palm and fingers, until Joengguk’s moaning, “close, hyung. I’m close, nngh,” then his hips still, back arching as he cums, spilling into Taehyung’s hand and over his chest.

When Jeongguk comes down from his high and opens his eyes slowly, Taehyung is smiling at him, and his clean hand is reaching up to push Jeongguk’s sweaty hair off his forehead. “Hi, babe, you’re back?”

Jeongguk tumbles forwards and kisses Taehyung’s lips, smiling into it, not minding the mess he feels spreading between their chests. “That was the best dick I’ve ridden, not gonna lie.” Jeongguk comments, making them both giggle, and move against each other, forgetting that Taehyung’s soft dick is still inside of Jeongguk. They both groan at the feeling, already overstimulated, so Taehyung gently lowers his legs and rolls Jeongguk off of him, holding the condom in place at the base of his dick as he pulls out, leaving Jeongguk’s hole puffy and gaping over nothing. The sight almost makes Taehyung hard again, but Jeongguk starts whining about being sticky and gross, so Taehyung offers to clean him up, but Jeongguk suggests they shower instead.

No funny business happens when they shower, because they’re both pretty exhausted, but they still can’t keep their hands off each other. Taehyung helps Jeongguk clean up, first, scrubbing his thighs and butt, then massaging his scalp all while kissing his scrunched-up nose and trying not to bust a nut from the cuteness. Jeongguk leaves the shower first, knowing fully well that the shower will never end if he stays with Taehyung in the bathroom, so he wraps a towel around his waist and leaves to the bedroom. He remembers the coffee mugs as he’s pulling on his boxers, so he doesn’t bother with more clothes, just dries his hair the best he can with a towel and trudges into the kitchen to heat up their coffee and make them breakfast.

When Taehyung comes out of the bathroom and into the kitchen with nothing but a towel around his waist minutes later, Jeongguk knows that his boyfriend is not gonna play right, probably seeking another round. Jeongguk teases, though, squirming out his arms and demanding they eat breakfast because he’s not gonna heat up their coffee again. Taehyung pouts but sits down on the stool next to his boyfriend anyway, shoveling rice into his mouth like a child. Jeongguk giggles at his antics and kisses the corner of his mouth, which quickly turns into full-mouth kisses and wandering hands. As Jeongguk’s hands slip under the towel around Taehyung waist and Taehyung’s hands begin bunching up the fabric of Jeongguk’s boxers, a loud ringtone interrupts them, and Jeongguk knows it’s Yoongi because of the special ringtone.

He tries to ignore it, but his brain is conditioned to pick up Yoongi’s calls, so he peels himself off Taehyung’s lips and kisses his pout before he rushes to the living room where he last left his phone.

“You guys have 15 minutes to get ready. We’re on our way.”

Oh shoot. It had totally slipped Jeongguk’s mind that they had made plans with Yoongi and Jimin. 

He informs Taehyung when he steps back into the kitchen after hanging up, and Taehyung groans and demands kisses, so Jeongguk complies and kisses him all the way to the bedroom where they dress each other up, Taehyung borrowing a shirt from Jeongguk to go with his pants, choosing a red blouse that Jeongguk forgot he has. It feels incredibly domestic when they stand side to side and get ready, and Jeongguk’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest from fondness.

He might fuck around and think of the L word, but his thoughts quieten down when Taehyung brushes his hair out of his eyes and looks at him softly. “We have to get going, bunny.”

Yeah, the L word seems not too far from right.

●

[9 months later]

Taehyung settles the avocado smoothie on the table between him and Yuta when he walks back to their table with his order before sighing and taking a big sip.

“Ooof, it’s not even 4 pm yet for our smoothie and gossip time.” Yuta chuckles, toying with the metal straw of his own smoothie.

“He’s driving me insane, girl, this needed to happen now.” Taehyung says, in an overly exaggerated tone. Yuta chuckles at Taehyung again when he gulps almost half of the smoothie down in one chug, burping and wiping the excess with the back of his hand.

“What he do, sis?” Yuta plays along, flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder. Taehyung deflates a little, then leans in closer to his friend and whispers, “He didn’t even kiss me good morning today. He just rushed to scrub the toilets.”

Yuta chuckles, “Oh my God, that bad?”

Taehyung nods incredulously. “Right? Maybe it was a mistake to accept his invitation.”

“He’s just nervous, Tae, he really wants to impress your brother.”

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung softens at the other’s words, “but I don’t want him to think his own self isn’t enough to win him over. Besides, Seokjin already likes him.”

“It’s Jeongguk fashion to fret over everything, hun, remember the whole promotion disaster?”

“Oh God, don’t remind me. He practically rolled up fetus position in his office and had Yoongi drive him back home.”

Yuta snorts, “We had to carry him up the elevator as he wailed that he’s not ready for the new responsibility.”

“An absolute disaster.” Taehyung covers his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Title of your sex tape.” The other teases.

Taehyung whacks Yuta’s head, both of them giggling at the memory till Yuta continues the conversation. “So, when are you going to the airport?”

“When Jimin gets the car from Namjoon. We’ll probably get there a little late, but it’s okay- Jin can wait.” Taehyung shrugs as he sips on his smoothie.

“Ahh, very hospitable of you, Tae.”

“Listen, I’m buying my boyfriend more time to fret over this. If anything, I’m helping.” Taehyung reasons, but Yuta rolls his eyes at him. “You’re only prolonging the poor boy’s suffering.” he comments, and Taehyung waves it off and changes the topic.

“Anyway, Sicheng’s coming with you tonight, right?”

“Yeah, you guys didn’t have to keep pushing back the dinner till my husband’s schedule clears up. He could’ve come another time.” Yuta says, but his eyes sparkle at the mention of his husband.

“Nah, it’s okay. We also had it so Seokjin would be here, so the postponing was great,” Taehyung finishes his smoothie then says, “I can’t believe he had to go back to work right after your honeymoon, though.”

Yuta pouts then shrugs, “I know, but it’s a small airline, you know? so they need him. I’m just glad he’s moved to domestic flights and no longer on international ones. At least he gets to come home more. I used to see him twice a week if I’m lucky before we got married.”

“You guys are the absolute cutest,” Taehyung sighs, “Makes me jealous.”

“Shut up, you and Jeongguk are the cringiest couple in existence. You can’t keep your hands off of each other. If it were biologically possible, one of you would definitely be knocked up by now.” Yuta snorts and Taehyung, ever so shameless, smirks.

“My god, have you seen him? I can’t think straight when I’m around him. I love him so much, it feels unreal.”

“Think you wanna spend the rest of your life with his annoying ass?” Yuta asks, casual, and Taehyung doesn’t even hesitate. “I know it’s probably too early to say this, but yeah. I think about it a lot. He’s everything I want. I just don’t want to rush into things. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“It’s only been what? 11 months since you guys started dating? It’ll come in due time. Sicheng and I dated for 4 years and were engaged for 7 months before we got married.” Yuta pats Taehyung’s hand in consolation.

“I’m ready for anything with him. Is that how you felt with Sicheng? Like you can breathe easy only when you’re with him?” Taehyung asks, and Yuta hums in confirmation, smiling.

“The married life looks great on you, babe.”

Yuta blushes, hides his face in his palms and smiles into them. “It’s not always easy. Even before we got married. It’s just…worth it, you know? Even you and Gguk- it’s not gonna be easy. Sometimes you’re gonna wanna rip his head off and yell things you will regret later, but that’s what makes it real.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Most days I feel like I want kiss him until he suffocates- he drives me mad, in both ways. The angry sex is always great, on those days. But at the end of the day, I still want to curl up between his arms and tell him how much I love him.” Taehyung sighs, feeling his throat close up because of the rush of emotions.

Yuta coos, but then says, “That’s so fucking disgustingly cute, I feel like I wanna go fight with Sicheng just so we can have angry sex.”

Taehyung fake gags, then smiles softly at Yuta until he asks him why he’s looking at him like that. “I don’t know, Yuta. We miss you at the building. But I’m glad you’re finally doing what you love.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying a doorman for the rest of my life. I just needed the money to help my parents with my tuition, and Winnie was never home, so it was a great job. I got to get paid to spend time with someone that quickly became my best friend. It was a great deal. But now I graduated and got married, and my job at the architecture firm is going great. I miss being able to see you guys so often, though. I’m trying to convince Sicheng to let us rent an apartment at Kogane No Basho, but we’re still paying the wedding loan and we’re drowning in debts so it’s not a very good idea, right now. Maybe someday.” Yuta chuckles, and Taehyung smiles at him again.

“I’m proud of you.”

“Literally, shut up, mom.”

Taehyung smacks Yuta’s cheeks obnoxiously, “Respect your mommy, kid.” Then his phone dings, and it’s from Jimin who’s waiting outside for him. “Oh shoot, gotta go. Tonight at 8, yeah? Don’t be late!”

Yuta stands up and gives him a hug, “Yup, we won’t. Make sure Gguk doesn’t die before then, though.”

“I’ll try my best.”

●

Baby, we’re on the way home!

Jeongguk does not know why he’s nervous, but he is. He’s spoken to Seokjin before, over the phone, over video chats, but seeing him face to face, in real life, and having him stay at his place somehow makes his anxiety work up, as if he’s meeting Taehyung’s parents instead. Taehyung has assured his boyfriend that Seokjin already likes him, that even if he didn’t, Taehyung still did and that should be enough.

Still, meeting your boyfriend’s older brother for the first time is quite intimidating, especially if it’s someone like Seokjin who exudes an energy that has people shaking.

When Seokjin called Taehyung a week before and surprised him with the news that he’s coming to Japan to visit his baby brother, he mentioned that he’s looking into Airbnb’s around the area. Jeongguk, who was sitting next to Taehyung as he spoke on the phone, had a sudden hero complex thing going on. He said, “Baby, it’s rude to have your brother rent out a place for a week.” So, naturally, he offered his place instead. He has a guest bedroom which is always empty, so it seemed like a very good idea back then. Taehyung said no, at first, he said, after covering the phone, “I can’t make you do that. We can’t have sex for a whole week if he stays here!”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes at him, snatched the phone from his boyfriend’s hands, and told Seokjin that he’s already made the guest bedroom ready for him. 30 minutes after they end the phone call, Yoongi and Jimin came over and told them that they’re moving in together, which renders Jimin’s room empty but it was too late for Jeongguk to revoke his invitation. They celebrate Yoongi and Jimin’s news soon after, Jeongguk insisting on inviting everyone over to his place for a night in- with free booze on the line, naturally, everyone said yes.

After that, is was cue the “oh my god I’m letting your brother stay over with me for a week” anxiety for Jeongguk.

Jeongguk told Taehyung that he has to stay too, that, “You can’t leave me alone with him, Tae, come on, I thought the invitation extension was obvious.” Taehyung, obviously, accepts, because he knows that Seokjin would not make it easy for Jeongguk if they stay alone. The Kim brothers had made up, over the New Years dispute they had, when Taehyung finally called his brother back, around the time when Jeongguk and him started having their coffee dates, back then. He told Jeongguk about it in passing- it went like, “oh I made up with my brother and now we talk almost every day. He wanted to punch you in the face, I don’t know if he’s over it.”

Seokjin is over it, but Taehyung finds Jeongguk’s nervousness and fear of his brother extremely entertaining, so he doesn’t mention it.

Jeongguk spends the whole week fretting, making sure the guest room is in perfect shape, stocking up the fridge, the booze cabinet, and the snacks pantry. Taehyung laughs a him, tries to ease his anxiety with sex, with love, with cuddles, but Jeongguk knows that it won’t go away until the whole ordeal’s over.

Now, Jeongguk moves the center piece on his living room table four times to make sure it looks good after scrubbing the guest bathroom clean. Taehyung and Jimin went to fetch Seokjin from the airport, and Jeongguk was left alone at home to fret over literally everything. When the doorbell rings 10 minutes after he receives Taehyung’s message, Jeongguk almost trips on his way to open it.

“Hi, baby.” Taehyung comes in first, pulling along a suitcase. He pecks Jeongguk on the lips and moves aside to let his brother in.

Seokjin carries himself with an air of authority, shoulders wide and squared, and he towers over Jeongguk. The younger gulps when Seokjin looks at him with a hard-to-read expression, but then the latter breaks into a grin and pulls Jeongguk into a hug.

“Ggukie, it’s nice to finally meet you in person. Oh my, God, you look smaller face to face.”

It’s like all the anxiety in Jeongguk just dissolves. He grins back at Seokjin and says, “Good to see you, hyung. Welcome.”

It’s fairly easy from there. They all shuffle into the kitchen where Jeongguk had meticulously prepared a delicious meal, and they converse over everything. Jeongguk and Taehyung hold hands under the table.

It takes Jeongguk a while to get used to the whole enigma that is Seokjin- he is loud and giggly all the time, some would say flamboyant and outspoken too. If someone had told Jeongguk that he’d witness Seokjin snort soup out of his nose in a laughing fit over Taehyung’s lame jokes, he’d tell you you’ve clearly overdosed on shrooms, but now he gets it, understands the resemblance between the Kims, where Taehyung had taken some of his quirks from.   

At that moment, he feels less nervous and glad that he invited Seokjin over. Now he can understand more of Taehyung as he watches their dynamic, maybe he can appreciate more of Taehyung’s past and get a glimpse of it through their interactions. It’s obvious Seokjin dominates a room, how Taehyung moves around the latter with more purpose and thought, as if trying to impress or receive approval and it’s a light of Taehyung completely new to Jeongguk, one that completely contradicts his whole carefree spirit. He understands where Taehyung might have felt restrained in Daegu, understands why he might have felt the urge to be miles away from it.

He grabs Taehyung’s hand tighter then, his boyfriend smiling lovingly at him.

After lunch, Jeongguk shows Seokjin around the house and he asks about the neon green wall, “That definitely looks like something my brother would do.” he comments offhandedly, but the couple only shrug. They then leave him in his room to get some rest while they start with the party preparations.

It’s not really a party. It’s a dinner/gathering sort of thing, one of which they usually do weekly when everyone is around and available, but it’s a more special one today since it’s to celebrate Yuta and Sicheng. Jeongguk had wanted to do this for his best friend since he and his husband came back form their honeymoon, but with Sicheng’s demanding job, and Yuta starting his career, they never really found the time. Now, two months later, they had the newlyweds clear their schedules and invited them over under the pretense of “we miss you and the gang being all together again”. And thus, the surprise was in order.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Woosung come over to help later in the day, but that then excludes Woosung and Taehyung who go bother Seokjin with their bracelet collection they made out of beads. With the remaining joint efforts, everything is in place well before Yuta and Sicheng arrive. Namjoon and Hoseok arrive with the food soon after, and at 8 pm sharp, the doorbell rings. Taehyung opens the door, and the moment the couple walk in, they’re bombarded with confetti, balloons, flowers, and screams of joy.

Yuta’s grin takes up half of his face, while Sicheng looks like a deer caught in headlights, hand tightly gripped in his husband’s as he tries to hide behind him. Sicheng’s a shy guy, and even after meeting everyone multiple times before (they were all at his wedding! Joengguk was Yuta’s best man!) he was still reserved and soft-spoken- a total opposite to his husband.

The couple thank everyone for the surprise, and Yuta and Jeongguk share a very long hug- they both tear up, but they act tough and don’t show it. Taehyung completely latches onto Sicheng’s arm, the latter grinning widely as he hugs it in. It’s no secret the two adore each other, connecting over ridiculous matching French berets, making fun of their significant others, and whispered giggles.

Dinner goes by smoothly- they eat and laugh and play board games like middle-aged people. It is in the middle of a heavily competitive charades round, all of them divided into teams of couples, Seokjin opting to having Woosung on his, when Hoseok draws an elephant trunk, and Taehyung giggles into Jeongguk’s side at the deformed drawing when Yuta out of nowhere screams, “A penis!” to everyone’s horror. Seokjin is quick to cover Woosung’s ears, Yoongi lunging at Yuta to cover his mouth in return, everyone else instantly breaks into a laughing fit.

“Oh my god, it really does look like a penis though.” Namjoon comments tipsily and everyone screams at him in return. The whole thing ends up with Hoseok, Yuta and Namjoon screaming back and forth at each other whether it actually is or is not a penis, and that is Yoongi and Jimin’s cue to leave.

After the couple say their farewells and tug a sad Woosung into his jacket, Yuta and Seokjin are quick to gang up against Jeongguk and bully him after the loss of his supporter, Min Yoongi, but they only do it because they’re both a little wine-drunk and have nowhere to focus that on. Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung all crowd around Sicheng and pinch the annoyed victim’s cheeks, not being able to handle the adorable man. They’re all close to being shit-faced, they’re loud and speak over each other and crowd each other’s space but it truly feels like home- like a big family coming together, and Jeongguk almost makes himself cry when he thinks about it, but he kisses Taehyung instead, grounds himself, tells him, “I love you.” And hears it back.

Safe to say, and to no surprise, most of them get wasted on wine and champagne, because no one is driving with safe taxi rides back home. Warm hugs goodbye are distributed after a merciless game of cards, and then Jeongguk and Taehyung are left with a very messy living room and one really drunk Seokjin. Being a bit tipsy themselves, they decide to clean the living room and keep the dishes for tomorrow morning, Seokjin then safely tucked into bed before they go change and clean themselves.

“Shower?” Jeongguk asks, undressing a grumpy Taehyung out of his dress shirt. Taehyung pouts at the mention of it- already super tired and a little dizzy, he shakes his head in decline before undressing Jeongguk in return. Jeongguk chuckles, grabbing one of his clean t-shirts to dress Taehyung up, but the other declines that too. “Wanna sleep skin to skin,” he mumbles, rubbing his red eyes. Jeongguk melts at that, undressing them both out of their pants and leading a close-eyed Taehyung into the bathroom. He settles him down to sit on the marble sink, brushing his hair out of his face and providing him with his toothbrush.

They brush lazily, free hands interlocked together (Taehyung is a whiny and clingy drunk) then Jeongguk washes both their faces with a damp cloth and face wash. Taehyung just stares at him with sleepy doe-eyes and Jeongguk thinks he wouldn’t complain if he had to do this on a daily basis for the rest of his life.

“I think Namjoon and Hoseok are a thing.” Taehyung says, wobbly as he hops off the sink and into the shower. He takes off his underwear before turning around, making grabby hands at Jeongguk who huffs at Taehyung’s change in mind, taking off his underwear as well.

“What makes you think that?” Jeongguk turns on the warm water, hugging Taehyung into him so they could both fit under the stream of water. He brushes Taehyung’s hair back, the other smiley as the heat drips on his back.

“I went with Woosung to get him a juice box from the kitchen and saw Namjoon’s hands on Hoseok’s hips as they prepared more snacks in the kitchen,” Taehyung sighs at the feeling of Jeongguk’s hands as they spread and massage the shampoo on his scalp. “They were whispering to each other and giggling in hushed tones like children. Once they heard us coming, they practically jumped off of each other.”

Jeongguk laughs at the gay panic, applying shampoo on his own head. Taehyung takes the time to wash off under the water. “I hope it’s true. I’m starting to think Namjoon is a hopeless case with his little crush on your brother.”

“Me too. Seokjin is practically married to his job, has no mind for anything else.” Jeongguk gets under the water with him, pecking Taehyung’s lips when the other starts scrubbing them with body wash- Taehyung smiles into it and Jeongguk’s heart bursts.

They finish off quick, Taehyung starting to get drowsier. Jeongguk dries them up and brings clean underwear from Taehyung’s own little designated drawer in his room, dressing him up and practically lifting the lazy bum into bed.

Once their limbs settle around each other, Taehyung’s whole body wrapping on top of Jeongguk, he peppers kisses around Jeongguk’s chest, dropping a lingering one where his heart rests before settling his ear to listen. Jeongguk’s steady heartbeat provides a lullaby for Taehyung every time he sleeps over.

I should do that more often, he thinks.

I should move in and do that always.

When this stops, my whole being stops too.

I love you, with every fiber of my being.

Jeongguk’s fingers draw patterns on his boyfriend’s back, faint and tingly, and Taehyung melts into him, holds him tighter, I will never let this go. Jeongguk lets out a choked laugh at the pressure, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s lower back and squeezing him back. It’s a small brainless gesture, but it almost brings Taehyung into tears, tells him that Jeongguk won’t let this go either.

“Thank you for today,” He airily says, “For Seokjin and for everything. Thank you for everything.”

Jeongguk’s hands massage Taehyung’s skin, pressing into tense muscles that formed on his lower back from endless desk hours. “Of course, baby, Seokjin is a pleasure, and the dinner was fun as always.”

“No, not just that, Jeongguk,” Taehyung shakes his head. “Thank you for everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” He lifts himself to stare at his boyfriend solemnly. Jeongguk drops a long kiss on his temple reaching down to his lips, “What’s wrong baby?” he whispers, pecking him once, twice, before staring back at the blonde as if waiting for him to speak but he does not expect the flow of words that rush out of Taehyung’s mouth. Given, he is a bit tipsy, but the look on his face is rather sincere, and Jeongguk heart threatens to almost stop.

“I love you so, so much, bunny. I could have never imagined my life being this good before you. So, thank you- thank you for the happiness you bring, thank you for the love you give me, and thank you for this peace of mind.” His voice is feeble, a little whisper but Jeongguk is one centimeter away, could hear him clearly. He looks at him, the other’s eyes are closed as if weary of being vulnerable and Jeongguk gives him time to speak. Only recently did Taehyung start opening up to him, months of trust built and it’s finally spilling out of him.

 “I needed Japan. I knew I did when I packed my bags and got on the airplane, but something always felt uneasy, I couldn’t explain it to anyone back then, I couldn’t understand it myself. But it was like- like some headache. At first, I thought it was just jetlag, but as the days grew by number it kept on staying and staying and it just wouldn’t leave me be. It-it was like some permanent jetlag that wouldn’t let go, some dense uncertainty weighing down on my brain and pressing on it, and it kept on pressing and pressing with the days till it spread to my front, played with my vision, made it grey again. It always made me feel uneasy and unrelaxed and no paracetamol or routine would ever numb it away, and surrounding myself with colors to see more was starting to fail. It made me doubt myself, made me question everything, what if Japan was not good for me after all, what if I never succeed here, what if I was better off in Daegu. But it finally eased, and I don’t know if it did when you answered back, or when you first kissed me or when we first said I love you, but I know it’s you. You helped me fight that permanent jetlag. It all started with you,” He inhales shakily, opening his eyes to stare back at Jeongguk, eyes drowsy and wet from the tiredness and more. “So, thank you. Thank you for saying ‘I knew you would’ when I got my promotion at work, because it might not be much to anyone else but it’s a lot to me. Thank you for not painting your wall back, and thank you for teaching that Japan was not a mistake, because I met you, and got this great supportive family, and it opened my eyes to what I was really looking for. I did not escape to Japan for my career, but I did to get what I couldn’t have at home and maybe the flashing lights in Osaka distracted me but it is this,” he holds Jeongguk’s hand in his, brings it up to kiss their intertwined hands. “It is this endless love and support, fuck, even the mere acceptance of who I am is what made me finally feel like it’s all where it’s supposed to be, like I was exactly meant to come here and ring your interphone and yell stupid shit. Some part of me was still hung up on Daegu, made me refuse to move on and maybe that’s why the jetlag stayed- maybe me seeing there’s more to life here with you guys, that made me finally let go.”  

Jeongguk’s eyes are glazed over, glistening with unshed tears, and it’s insane how he could see all the colors himself now, they seep from Taehyung’s pores, staining his skin, painting him bright, “My baby,” He says, quiet, warm, “My beautiful Taehyung. I’m so proud of you for all of what you are; your grays and colors and your bravery,” Taehyung’s heartbeat is steady against his, and they melt into each other. “It pained me to see you struggle like this, and at first I might not have understood it myself, did not understand the fuss about the colors but it’s you, and only you who got yourself out of it. Not me, not Jimin, and not anyone else- we were merely people who pushed you towards it. I don’t know what tomorrow might hold for you, but I can assure you one thing, we’ll be right next to you, me and this weird little messed up family of ours.” Some tears fall from their eyes as Taehyung leans up and slots his mouth against Jeongguk’s, spilling his love between them, tongues swallowing and savoring.

“Spend the rest of my days with me, yeah?” Taehyung whispers into Jeongguk’s neck, who is pliant as his lover kisses down his throat.

“Only if you promise to spend the rest of my days with me.”

Taehyung smiles into his skin, resting himself down on Jeongguk’s chest again and he yawns, Jeongguk resting his chin atop the blonde’s head, cradling him further into his arms and whispering, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Taehyung closes his eyes, “I’ll be here when you wake up too, bunny.” And he settles his ear right where Jeongguk’s heart is and he hears a beat, then another, and everything slowly ebbs, and flows, and fades.

Taehyung’s career might not be where he expected it to be, and sure his living conditions are not so great now that Jimin has moved out, leaving him and Namjoon alone to settle rent- it will get a bit stressful. His life is far from perfect, far from where he envisioned his life to be in Japan but he is content…happy. He got more than what he was bargaining for. It might not have come in waves of hefty paychecks and a lavish lifestyle, but it has come in tides of what matters most to him now, cradling waves of warmth and love. So yes, he might not be where 22-year-old Taehyung wanted to be, but he is exactly where he is supposed to be, and it may not be all the way full-filing but Taehyung aims for more. Aims for a stronger love with Jeongguk, and aims for a bigger family in his future. Maybe even one of his own.

And that’s more than enough.

[rest]

✈️

they all die in an apocalyptic event the next day

the end