Work Text
Taehyung
6th November 2017
Taehyung slumped his back on the leather couch in their living room. He glanced at the window once hearing a loud rumble. Bits of water started slapping onto the glass, blurring the image outside. His gaze then landed on the huge clock implanted on the wall at its side. 7:45 am, it read.He sighed, grabbing the forgotten pen that rolled somewhere behind his back earlier. He eyed the small notebook resting on his palm, flipping the pages with his thumb.
6th November 2017
7:45 am – It rained
“You should be more specific.” He recalled Namjoon one time. He was the first and possibly, the only one, who knew about his condition. “It might help.” Another sigh escaped from his lips as he skimmed through the pages, frowning as he concluded how monotonous his life went. He was tapping the pen at the side of the notebook when he smelled sautéed garlic from the kitchen.“Breakfast is ready, Taehyung-ah.” A familiar deep voice whispered but loud enough that had Taehyung eagerly bound into the kitchen.As he entered, with a face filled with hope— and maybe a bit of desperation, he’s only met with a sweet humming, different from the one who called him. “Hyung.”“Oh, you’re awake.” Seokjin didn’t bother to look as he sprinkled salt over the pan, flipping the shrimp as it fries.“Had been.” Taehyung sauntered over, examining their breakfast at the table. There was braised pork, kimchi and, oddly, pancakes- strawberry ones. He was about to ask Seokjin when a familiar pale hand hovered over it, landing the said hand near his. Taehyung’s eyes snapped up to be greeted by the warm, nostalgic gummy smile-“-yung… Taehyung!” Seokjin was now waving the greased tongs in front of him, eyebrow raised up. “Ah, see this is what I was talking about!” Seokjin rambled on, getting back to placing the cooked shrimps on a platter. “One year older and you’ll be completely ignoring me.” He nagged in pout that earned a chuckle from the younger.“Sorry, hyung! It’s just the pancakes-“ His smile dropped as he gestured to an empty spot. Pancakes gone, along with his precious person.“Pancakes?” Luckily, Seokjin wasn’t looking and was still occupied at the moment. “I could buy some pack later. I didn’t know you were into them.”“Not really… just some craving I guess.” Taehyung quickly countered. He licked his lips and tried to act nonchalant as he went to get his own bowl of rice. “He usually appears at night.” He told Namjoon while fiddling with the hem of his sweater. They were currently seated on his bed. Taehyung’s eyes were damp and red from his recent outburst, the reason why Namjoon was awake and comforting him.
“Appear, you mean- like, like seeing him?” Namjoon stared at Taehyung with pure concern. Taehyung only managed to nod, taking interest and forcing focus on his nails, afraid of the sudden confrontation. “What does he normally do when he appears?”
Taehyung sat frozen for a second. He knew Namjoon wouldn’t straight up judge him but he didn’t exactly think he’d believe him right away. He doesn’t reply though. He stayed silent. Then he realized he doesn’t really want this conversation to happen. Namjoon had always been curious- guileful even. He couldn’t trust them. He doesn’t want to, really.
Taehyung heard Namjoon clear his throat after the dead silence as he realized that he was trembling. He clenched his fist to cover it, hugging himself with the covers. That’s when he felt a small touch. Namjoon stroked his back in an attempt to comfort him. But it wasn’t enough.
“I wanted him, hyung.” Taehyung stammered, curling himself up in the sheets. “I want him so bad.”
Namjoon doesn’t know who the person was.Taehyung repeated this in his head many times to ensure he won’t slip up. But either way of him knowing or not, it remained an illusion. Something fucked that his brain had created, but he’d be lying if it wasn’t helping him through.He was currently in a convenience store, stuffing his cart with mostly chips, some drinks. Seokjin asked him earlier to buy groceries as he’ll probably arrive home late due to some meeting. Taehyung never did like to go outside, well, outside the city, that is. He remembered back then they had a farm house. He liked it there. It was serene, had a great view and especially, not filled with people. He didn’t have problems with people in general. People were nice when he was a child but now it seemed different. There were times he sees them giving him those looks towards him. It wasn’t nice but he learnt on how to tune them out. He was rounding an isle when he saw it, a pack of pancake mix. No, he doesn’t need it. But it reminded him of earlier, his gut lurching at the idea. Because he’s not. No, he’s not like that. It’s his overactive imagination, that’s all.He doesn’t think of it as he paid for the groceries Seokjin asked him to. He heard a lot of beeps, that’s what’s he remembered. The sound of change being given to him, a tap on his shoulder- a tap?“Taehyung-ah?” The sound of an exception. Taehyung turned back, plastic bags on tow and he realized he was in the middle of exiting the store. And not just that, it was him. He stood before Taehyung, sporting that same beautiful daze as ever. His savior, his muse, the one who kept him going every day. Though, he wouldn’t say that. Not out loud. Not when he was already in the hands of his brother.“Yoongi-hyung?”“I’m glad I bumped into you.” Yoongi sighed in relief, groaning afterwards. “I lost the key Jinnie gave me.”“Ah.” Taehyung smiled as he proposes. “We can go back together.” It wasn’t a long walk but with the heavy groceries dangling around Taehyung made it worse. Yoongi did made demands of helping him which got Taehyung to purposely move it around so he couldn’t catch it. Yoongi had scold him then but laughed at how stupid they must’ve have looked earlier.They placed the bags on the kitchen table the moment they got in, with Yoongi actually carrying one bag after a heavy amount of persuasion. Taehyung then automatically reached for his notepad, tallying down what had happened that day but before writing down, he reached towards Yoongi’s cheek and pinched it.“Yah!” Yoongi squeaked and swatted his hand away. “What was that for?”“I couldn’t help it.” Taehyung gave out a cheeky grin as he jotted down the events, side-eyeing the clock nearby. 4:50 pm.“Is that for your sketches?” Yoongi tried to peer into it but Taehyung instantly shut it close, startling Yoongi.“Yeah- uh, no.” The front door, Taehyung assumed, made a small thud as footsteps resounded closer. “A new hobby.”“Yoongichi.” Yoongi turns immediately, mouth probably wide with glee. Taehyung simply stared and even managed to smile a bit as Seokjin cupped his dear’s cheeks, nuzzling their noses together before giving him a peck.“I missed you.” He faintly heard. “I missed you too.”Taehyung wanted to ask why he’d been early, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t wanted there. Dinner went by swiftly, as he recalled how Yoongi had bid them goodbyes, how it was different with him and Seokjin. Taehyung wasn’t new to their kisses or their lingering touches, but it still hurt him like a blunt knife digging in his chest. He should be happy with them. He should. Seeing Yoongi was enough, he’s happy with him. They’re happy with each other.“Are they?” Taehyung was tapping his pen again on the pad as he heard the melodic deep thrum of voice. The figure was sitting there again on his bed, pretty pouty lips forming a small smile. “Are they?” It repeated like a broken record. He wanted it to stop. Still, he stared at the porcelain boy before him. “Are they?” Taehyung couldn’t remember how he had slept but he jolted awake for some reason. Taehyung wondered if what happened earlier was a dream, it probably was. But the memory was so clear, he wished it was.He sat up and glanced at the clock. 2:33 am.He tucked himself again but after tossing and turning around, he couldn’t really sleep. He sat up again but this time his eyes landed on something more interesting than the clock, his easel. It’s time to paint.The floor was cold and it was dark. With a bit of help from the moonlight, he gathered his things.He busied himself in the colors, whatever he was painting. It seemed unclear, just blotches of paint all over. At some point, he stopped, staring at the painting. There’s feet behind it, it just sat across him. If he moved the canvas, he’d see its face. Should he, should he-“I love it when you paint.” It was always eerily an exact duplicate of Yoongi’s voice. Taehyung’s hand doesn’t stop though. He kept stroking the brushes in different angles. Go away. He was not scared of it, he just never wanted it.
“Especially, if it’s me.”