Archive of Our Own

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this isn’t the first time. he wonders if it’ll be the last.probably not.yoongi has been struggling with depression for over a decade now, so he knows. he knows it like an organ, has its own reflexes and bruises and it works autonomously, independent from his will. it came in his teenage years, grew with him on the streets, his only company in cold nights spent on dark alleys. it knows fear and it knows aggression, it molded yoongi to be the cynical, but resilient little shit he is now.it’s been beside him, inside him, when he started writing poems for strangers, pen and paper courtesy of the bookstore he sort of lived nearby, sort of slept next to. he became a thing, people would come to him with friends, tell him to write for them too, then these friends would come with their friends and so on. but there was this one guy, really tall, really classy, that would ask yoongi to write about specific themes everyday for two weeks. until the theme was home and yoongi wrote about having none. about having all of them. about the nothing and everything he considered his. the guy, namjoon, then offered to be his agent. said they could have a bright future together, or some sappy philosophical shit like that. but sappy as it may have been, he was right. namjoon invested in him, gave him a notebook, a room in his house, paid for printing and distribution himself. yoongi never believed in fate or angels, but namjoon was the closest to faith he ever got to. yoongi became a successful writer, bestseller factory. so the money he was able to repay, but the certainty and trust namjoon placed upon him was yet to be returned. he’s still yoongi’s agent, but also grew to be his best friend. something like family.so he can only imagine how pissed namjoon will be when he finds out yoongi is waking up on a hospital bed again, having to clean his stomach again, detoxing and shit again. he can already hear the scolding and see the disappointed look. because it’s not about yoongi being a depressed fuck, namjoon can comprehend this better than anyone, but it’s probably about yoongi keeping it to himself, trying to solve it on his own. namjoon likes to talk things through, yoongi just swallows it down until it explodes. like now.sometimes it’s just too much. and it’s not that yoongi wants to die, his life now is something his younger self could only dream of, he just wants it to stop.or maybe he doesn’t, because see, all his money came from this disease. the emptiness, the lurking shadows, the demons inside his head, it all fuels his creativity, his sadness his muse. he figured some time ago that no artist is truly happy, they probably did all their greatest work while drowning in some heavy shit. happiness isn’t inspiring, so while he suffers, he’s also scared of losing the only thing that feels real.so he writes about it, the void he feels becomes tangible through words, morphed into a character he can’t kill no matter what plot he develops. chances are the motherfucker will kill him first.but not this time. it failed yet again. doctor said he should stay for a week or so, maybe talk with the hospital’s psychiatrist, call his friends. he could, but he won’t. if it worked, he wouldn’t be here again, giving he did all of this the last time. he’ll stay for as long as needed, then he’ll leave and see how long he survives until it tries again.🌗yoongi never really bothered with health insurance, medical agreements, private hospitals, thinks he doesn’t care enough for and about himself. there are people fighting for their lives, he’s not worthy of taking their space. he’s undeserving of a room someone willing to live could occupy. so he’s in ICU, he thinks, probably sharing the ward. it’s fine. it’s temporary, as all things are.medication makes him drowsy, like he’s always falling asleep without ever sleeping. his mind drifts away, pleasantly empty - this part he enjoys, tries to savor it while it lasts.which is not long, a deep ass voice pulls him from his trance, talking loudly and overly excited for a fucking hospital. he can’t see the source of it, isolated from the rest of the ward by curtains surrounding his bed and he’s definitely not feeling strong enough to yell for the dipshit to shut up. so he just rolls his eyes, takes a deep breath and waits for someone else to do it.“sir, excuse me, can you please lower your voice? there are other patients here.”, a female voice intervenes, bless her.“oh! oh. I’m so sorry.”, the same deep voice answers, seems like a pathetic attempt at whispering. “sorry. sorry.”the guy keeps it down afterwards, though yoongi is still able to listen to his conversation with what seems to be another patient, a friend of his or something. yoongi curses at the sky for not having his ipod with him, curses at himself for being here.“um, excuse me?”, yoongi hears the voice closer, opens his eyes to see a guy peeking his head through the curtains.the guy is handsome. disturbingly so. like someone like that shouldn’t really be real. yoongi wonders if he’s dreaming, or high, or both. but being impressed doesn’t mean acting impressed, so he feigns indifference as an art he mastered.“can I help you?”“I just came to apologize if I disturbed you earlier, yeah?”, the guy says, bowing his head. too pretty. doesn’t make sense, even for an imaginative mind like yoongi’s.“it’s fine, kid.”, yoongi dismisses, figures he can’t really be mad at someone else for the situation he put himself in.“it’s cause my friend, jimin, he broke his arm, see?”, the guy keeps talking, unexpectedly, enters more of his body through the curtains. “so I came to visit, cause he doesn’t like being alone in hospitals.”“I think nobody does.”, yoongi surprises himself by answering and indulging the young man. “how did he break his arm?”must be the medication talking, can’t be yoongi. he’s not social. the only social aspect about him is anxiety.“dance practice. you’d think a dancer wouldn’t be clumsy, yet here he is.”, the guy giggles, pretty sound coming out of a boxy smile. “what you’re here for?”“pills.”, yoongi answers nonchalantly. he’s past the shame, namjoon says he should be honest about it, so he’s being honest about it.he usually expects a specific kind of look when he talks about this, something between pity and censorship. people feel bad for him, but worst for themselves, don’t wanna hear about it, acknowledge poor bastards like him exist. what he doesn’t expect is a nod and an extended hand at his direction.“I’m taehyung.”he takes some time to shake the guy’s, taehyung’s, hand, because he never had someone deal with his shit like he just told he ate spaghetti for lunch, not that he wanted and tried to end it all.“not gonna tell me your name?”, taehyung tilts his head, big eyes and slightly parted lips.“no.”, yoongi teases, grinning, though he doesn’t, in fact, have any intention of telling his name.“oh, okay, min yoongi.”, taehyung grins back, shit eating, childlike mischief painting his expression.“how the f-““it’s written on your wristband.”of course it is. the kid’s smart, yoongi can’t avoid the distortion of his lips, something like a smile, but he won’t admit it.“I’ll let you rest now.”, taehyung announces, runs his long fingers through light brown strands and because yoongi has nothing else to focus on, he notices, a mole on the tip of the boy’s nose, a mole on his lower lip. “see you around, yoongi.”🌓hospital food sucks, yoongi always knew, but he doesn’t think people realize how bad it can be when it’s supposed to detox. no salt whatsoever, everything is mushy, even the fruits are mashed. it’s gross. he does his best to finish his plate, tries to imagine is lamb skewers, maybe if he concentrates enough it can taste just like it.“disgusting, right?”yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t think about this voice all night, though he blames boredom and medication. so he doesn’t turn to look, keeps his eyes on the ugly half eaten food.“maybe if I think hard enough it’ll transform into a steak or something.”“hm, steak.”, taehyung slides all the way in through the curtains, sits at the end of yoongi’s bed, throws a disgusted look at the tray on his lap. “what is that?”“mashed broccolis? I have no idea, it doesn’t taste like anything.”, yoongi sighs, decides to give up and places the tray on the bed table. “how’s your friend?”“oh, he’s okay, think he’ll be discharged today.”, taehyung smiles softly, then traps his lower lip between his teeth. “how are you?”yoongi shrugs, couldn’t really tell, the doctors give vague information and it’s not like he really cares. the only important thing right now is to endure until they say he can leave. and he catches himself not caring about the boy in his space, starting conversation with yoongi, like they’re something when they’re nothing but strangers. kid’s weird. yoongi must be weird too.“how long do you think you’ll have to stay?”, taehyung asks and yoongi looks at the boy properly, different angles from yesterday, profile adorned with delicate but precise lines, sharp and soft in all the right places.“a week or so.”, yoongi tries not to put too much weight on his words, but he’s already sick of this place and it’s hard to hide it. “wouldn’t be so bad if I had something to do.”“yeah, it sucks.”, taehyung gives him a knowing look, sympathetic. “what do you usually do? like, what would you do to spend time here?”curious weird handsome kid. the list of adjectives keeps growing, yoongi is glad he knows plenty.“music.”, yoongi groans, he misses music more than anything, not used to low noises and hushed voices, it disturbs him more than silence does. “maybe write, if this place was any inspiration.”“are you a writer, yoongi?”, taehyung’s gaze is intense, though it doesn’t seem intentional. yoongi averts his own either way.“yeah. something like that.”“cool.”, taehyung smiles, doesn’t seem surprised, which is, then again, the opposite reaction yoongi usually gets.“what about you, kid? what do you do?”, yoongi can be curious too, though intrigued would be best suited. interested maybe.“I’m a photographer.”“oh.”, yoongi lets out, eyes widening involuntarily. “thought you’d be in front of the cameras instead of behind them.”“smooth.”, taehyung giggles and only then yoongi realizes what he just said. “thank you, yeah? I’m an ocasional model, but it’s not where my heart is at.”“didn’t mean to belittle your work.”, yoongi explains himself, just in case. for someone so good with words, he really has the talent to use the wrong ones more often than not.“it’s fine, it’s fine! you didn’t mean anything by it.”, taehyung gestures excitedly with his big hands, “just wanted to tell me I’m pretty, right?”yoongi laughs, more breath than sound, couldn’t be flustered if he wanted to, but it’s close. “yeah, sure.”“I’ll let you rest now.”, taehyung gets up from the bed, places a shy hand on yoongi’s knee, who would jolt in surprise, his natural reflex is to just fight human touch, but he doesn’t. “see you around, yoongi.”🌗yoongi listens when the doctor discharges jimin later that day. it means taehyung won’t have to come to visit anymore. it shouldn’t affect yoongi in any way, but the boy has been the only entertainment he had while here.strange kid. bright somehow.yoongi avoids thinking too much when there’s nowhere to pour his mind’s contents, but thinking is the only thing he can do right now. so he closes his eyes and taehyung’s face is the first thing he sees, like a punch, like a realization. like all the beautiful things he used to dream about, out of reach.🌓“good morning, mr. min, how are you feeling today?”, the nurse asks him, checking his heartbeat on the monitor beside his bed.“fine.”, it’s what he answers, half truth.she proceeds to check his blood pressure, says it’s okay, that he should try and eat a little more.“thank you.”“I believe you have a visitor.”, she has a soft smile, like she knows something yoongi doesn’t. probably true, yoongi didn’t tell anyone he was here and before he could ask, she leaves. well.“hi.”, he hears taehyung before seeing him, two letter word like a thunder in yoongi’s head.“hi.”, he says back, glad he’s good at concealing reactions, not about to give himself (away).“so, jimin is home again. I was the first to sign his cast!”, taehyung has a triumphant boxy grin, sits on the edge of yoongi’s bed again, closer, but safely so.“that’s cool. with a happy face?”“with a happy face!”, taehyung exclaims before he remembers to keep his voice down, covers his mouth with his hands. yoongi giggles, because how can he not? “how’d you know?”“you look like the type.”, yoongi shrugs, “did you really come here for me?”“well, yeah.”, the boy answers like it’s obvious, that this shouldn’t even be a question. “can’t sign your mind, so I brought my ipod. same thing, yeah?”taehyung hands him the small blue device, has a sticker on the back, a van gogh portrait. strangely enough, it makes perfect sense, even though yoongi knows nothing about the kid.“you don’t have to.”, yoongi says, but accepts it anyway, taking it in his hands along with his earphones.“it’s fine. it’s borrowed. don’t know if our music taste will match, but it’s better than nothing, yeah?”“thank you, kid.”“want to play cards?”, taehyung asks out of the blue, cards already in hand.“why not?”🌓so taehyung’s music taste is... interesting. it’s a bit of a mess, patternless and all over the place, but it’s good. has some classic music, lots of john legend, quality rap artists here and there, some top 50 generic kind of stuff. yoongi doesn’t like to assume shit, but music is easy to read - sounds a bit superstitious, like runes and astrology, but he never, not once, got it wrong.from what he listened, taehyung must be a romantic, not in the netflix teenage movie sense, but surrounding life in general, the beauty seeker type, the beauty seer. introspective probably, creative definitely. free spirit. artist soul.yoongi laughs at himself, sounding like an old clairvoyant lady and all, stops when he catches himself wishing for a chance to test his theory, doesn’t know if he’ll get one. he hopes so. not good.🌓two days go by. miserable and sort of gray. good news is that he’ll probably get to leave a bit earlier than anticipated - they say he’s getting better extraordinarily fast, though he thinks it’s more a matter of space than anything. bad news, and they shouldn’t be bad, shouldn’t be anything, because that means expectations and yoongi has no right to have any, is that taehyung hasn’t visited.yoongi tells himself to quit this bullshit. the boy has been kind, kinder than he deserves. he should just feel grateful and glad that maybe taehyung came to his senses and saw yoongi isn’t worth it. self deprecation is his best defense against disappointment, so he’ll use it.he wakes up when it’s still dark, the clock tells him it’s 3am. his sleep schedule was never good, but in this shithole he can’t even tell if it’s day or night properly - time is strange in hospitals, easy to feel lost, like it doesn’t really matter what time it is.he hears a whisper, someone calling him, so low he thinks he imagined it. maybe he’s finally gone insane, god knows it’s long due.“yoongi.”, it’s louder now, though still a murmur, definitely real.he gets out of the bed, weak legs getting used to sustaining his weight again and squints his eyes, looking around in the dark. the curtains are slightly open and he spots a silhouette between them.“taehyung?”, he wonders how would he know, how does he know. why was this name the first one thought of.“yeah. come with me.”taehyung takes him by the hand, locking their fingers together like he’s done it a thousand times, warm and tight and soft. yoongi is confused as fuck, but he doesn’t ask questions, just follows taehyung through the dark. they leave the ward and the corridor looks like a horror movie scenario, but the boy in front of him is smiling, gesturing for him to keep down.“oh, shit. hide!”, taehyung pulls him closer when they spot a nurse and they get behind some big medical equipment yoongi knows nothing about until she walks past them.“what are we doing?”, yoongi finally asks, curious but unafraid.“you’ll see. c’mon.”taehyung leads them to the emergency staircase, going up. yoongi is almost running out of breath when they reach the top floor and open the heavy steel door. cold breeze hits yoongi’s body like a wave, makes him shudder and close his arms around himself. they’re on the roof of the hospital.“wow.”, yoongi says, mesmerized by the view, the city lights and the night sky.taehyung walks towards the edge, a couple of feet between him and the deadly fall, turns his face to the side, looking at yoongi expectantly. “it’s fine, yeah?”yoongi nods, couldn’t get a grasp of the situation if he tried, so he might as well go along with it. weird thing, funny thing, that taehyung would trust him enough to bring him to a place like this after everything he told about himself. he takes slow steps until he eventually reaches the boy, standing beside him.“it’s nice, right? a place like this having a view like that.”, taehyung says, looking up while yoongi is looking down.“yeah. how did you know?”, the streets are empty, but they’re never peaceful. always made him anxious, something cruel. he loves this city, but it doesn’t love him back.“let’s say it’s not my first time here.”, taehyung’s lips become a tight line, just for a second and then he’s smiling again, bumping shoulders with yoongi. “no cameras. stupid, yeah?”“stupid, yes.”, yoongi nods, chooses to ignore the information given to him earlier. “you’re a bit of a rascal, aren’t you?”3am forbidden trips to a forbidden roof. yoongi is familiar with this, though it’s been some time. when one spends too much time being marginalized, it’s simply natural to become what people treat you like. rules meant nothing to him, until they meant something again, until people started treating him like people again.but there will always be this side of him, he thinks. there will always be a wild thing inside of him, even if caged.“I have the feeling you’re one too.”, taehyung says, takes one step further and yoongi does the same.“you’re right.”, yoongi feels his heart going off, the height sounding his alarms. he smiles, because fucked up as it is, he feels so alive in the face of death. proves his mind wrong, his depression wrong. “thanks for reminding me.”“anytime.”they stand beside each other in silence for some time, which could’ve been ten minutes or an hour. the city lights are their own constellation, matching the stars above and the moon shining shyly behind dark clouds. no one can deny this view, but yoongi catches himself looking at taehyung most of the time, sort of absorbing the features, sort of horrified by them. scary like turning into reality one’s own biased vision of art. some shit like that.yoongi is too old for crushes. too cynical for relationships. too messed up for someone to stay. it keeps him from ever even trying. too many attempts and too many failures, mathematically the answer is obvious and the result predictable. why is he even thinking about this is worrisome by itself.“look!”, taehyung exclaims, startling yoongi out of his thoughts, and points up. “it’s the capricorn constellation! my sun sign!”yoongi looks at what the boy is pointing, tries to make out the shape of the stars, and he finds it. “I see it.”“it means I’m detail-oriented and hard working and organized.”, taehyung rumbles, “if you believe that sort of thing. what’s your sign, yoongi?”“pisces.”, yoongi answers, taking some time to remember it.“oh!”, taehyung makes a face yoongi can’t decipher, “that means you’re imaginative and wise, but has trouble facing reality.”“the second part sounds about right.”, yoongi laughs to himself, not really a laugh, but taehyung doesn’t say anything else and they stay silent again, both looking at the sky.“we should head back.”, taehyung mutters, turns his face to look at yoongi. “it was cool, yeah?”“yeah.”, yoongi lets his eyes drop to his socks covered feet. “you’re so fucking weird.”yoongi can’t see taehyung’s reaction, but he can hear the young man’s giggle, loud and deep. he didn’t mean to say it out loud, though he’s been known for his poor ass mind-mouth filter.“why is that?”, taehyung ask when he finally stops laughing, long fingers covering his lips.“it’s ass o’clock and you come visit when you’re not supposed to and take me to the damn roof. I could’ve been sleeping. I could’ve punched you in the face.”taehyung tilts his head to the side, something mischievous in his eyes, eyebrows raised. “well, see, I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about you. must’ve been because you were thinking about me too. these things happen, yeah?”, he pokes yoongi’s chest with his index finger, “if you were sleeping, I’d wake you up.”“and if I punched you?”, yoongi can’t really avoid the shit his mouth is doing, teeth showing in a big grin. he will not defend himself, won’t deny it either.taehyung leans closer to him, just the upper body, but it’s quite enough for yoongi to feel tempted to step back. he doesn’t. “I’d gladly take it.”yoongi gulps. not good to lose balance in a place like this, so he steps farther from the edge. “yeah, yeah. c’mon.”taehyung smirks, but follows. yoongi braces himself again, a gulf of cold wind hitting his t-shirt, sweatpants wearing body.“here.”, taehyung says as he puts his own jacket over yoongi’s shoulder. it’s a brown leather one and it’s incredibly warm, probably from the young man’s own body temperature. oh.“what about you?”, yoongi asks, though he’s already closing the jacket around himself and it kind of swallows him. feels nice.“it’s fine. you’re already here too long, don’t want them to keep you because you caught a cold.”“good point. thanks.”the walk back is easier, goes smoother. taehyung accompanies yoongi to the ward, neither mention the jacket and they go on their separate ways.yoongi doesn’t take the fucking jacket off, he lies down wearing it, he wakes up wearing it and that’s when he realizes things are not going well. or they are. he’s not quite sure and that’s even worse.what he knows is that taehyung’s smell is fruity. not overly sweet, just the right amount. something like strawberry, but not quite. what he doesn’t is what to do with this information.🌗“good morning, mr. min.”, it’s a different nurse, but they’re always different. “are you ready for your examinations?”he simply nods, because it doesn’t make any difference if he’s ready or not. they have to take his blood and see his insides in order for him to go home, so he’ll do it.after all is done and he’s been uncomfortably pierced and poked and exposed, they instruct him back to his bed, where he’ll wait for the results and depending on them, he can be discharged.he sits on the mattress, feet dangling in the air and earphones in, taehyung’s weird playlist on and sticks his hands inside the jacket’s pockets. his left hand’s fingers feel something, a piece of paper. his first thought is receipt, but that’s him and it’s not his jacket. he pulls it out and it looks like a ripped notebook page with something written on it. okay. he bites the bait and opens it up.
“call me when you’re out.

taehyung.”
yoongi grins at the numbers scribbled down, a smiley face at the end of it - of course. yoongi realizes with a certain sense of dread and just a little bit of something else he dares not name that in a matter of a few days he’s been overwhelmed by this kid. taehyung just sort of barged in, left pieces of himself all around and made the place his own, unapologetically and with no explanation.yoongi was never a curious person, let mysteries be mysteries and he’s definitely not adventurous in any way. he’s learned that some things are not meant to be figured out, that sometimes it’s best to let go, to not risk it. but then again, safety is a luxury he worked hard to get in more than one way.so the piece of paper on his hand feels like an invitation, calling him to an unknown, uncharted territory. maybe an adventure. maybe a deadly fucking trap. the whole point is that he doesn’t know and won’t know until he tries. taehyung is trying to ignite a dead fire here. or maybe yoongi’s writer mind is reading too much into this and the kid just wants a fucking friend. but still.“mr. min.”, the same nurse from before comes accompanied by someone he assumes it’s the doctor in charge. “we have your results.”“I’m glad to say you’re clean.”, the doctor says, she has a soft smile, neutral eyes. “you’re still low on iron, so we’ll give you a supplement prescription. but other than that, you’re fine, though I’d strongly recommend seeing a psychiatrist.”“thank you.”, yoongi figures is best to keep the snarky comments to himself. done that, tried that. she doesn’t need to know any of it. “so am I free to go?”“yes, you are.”, she smiles again, polite and distant. “take care of yourself.”she leaves him with the nurse, who assists in taking out the name tag around his wrist and giving him the papers for discharge to sign.“can I ask you a favor?”, he says after handing the papers back to her. she nods and he takes a deep, deep breath. “is there any phone I can use here?”🌓“thank you.”, yoongi voices as he bows to the hospital’s receptionist, the one who let him use the phone.he tries not to run to the exit door, tries not to smile as he feels the sunlight hitting his skin, fucking finally. he decides to sit in one of the benches outside, between man planted trees, closes his eyes and lets himself bathe in freedom, the city loud sounds like a relative’s voice, annoying and endearing at the same time.he stays there for god knows how long, mind traveling fast, having ideas and discarding them then having some more. he misses writing. feels wrong when he’s not doing it, like he missed a thousand chances.click.it reverberates, louder than the cars and the sirens and the voices. it’s not unusual, so yoongi doesn’t mind, though it made him lose his train of thought and it’s a precious thing.click.it’s getting closer and what the fuck. he opens his eyes and let them adjust to the clarity, scanning the open space.click.he spots the source of it, and it’s terrifyingly easy to recognize taehyung, even with his face hidden behind his analog camera. yoongi isn’t sure what gave the boy away first, his silky brown mullet or the bright red coat. could be the posture, the hands, the fucking aura. yoongi gets up, decides to walk towards the young man before he thinks of any more stupid shit.“what are you doing?”, he asks even though he knows. it’s conversation starter and he’s not good at it.“taking pictures of you.”, taehyung reveals himself, letting the camera down gently, hanging around his neck through a brown leather strap. “you looked really peaceful there. I bet they will come out pretty nice.”“well, those won’t even pay for a coffee.”, yoongi shrugs and taehyung laughs, a quick, breathy one. “you told me to call you. I called you.”“that you did. are you hungry?”yoongi feels his stomach growl as if the question reminded his body that he hasn’t eaten anything since he woke up this morning, so he nods.“cool. good, yeah? cause I know a bomb kebab place.”, taehyung smiles wide, eyes crinkling.🌗taehyung claimed the place was within walking distance and yoongi had no reason to doubt that, but when they finally get there, yoongi’s feet are hurting and he’s out of breath.“walking distance, you said.”, he whines as lets his body drop hard on the available seat.taehyung sits gracefully on the other side of the table, hangs his coat at the back of the chair, chuckling and unaffected. “you’re an old man, it was only a couple of blocks.”“respect your elders.”“yes, grandpa.”, taehyung rolls his eyes, soft boxy smile. “let’s eat, yeah? I’m starving.”“me too. can’t wait to eat real fucking food.”, yoongi grabs the menu and his mouth waters from so many options.“thought you’d be craving something nice, yeah? this place is really good.”, taehyung goes through the menu himself, chin resting between his fingers and it’s a vision, no wonder people in the street would just sort of freeze at the sight of him. yoongi can understand that.“are you guys ready to order?”, the waiter quietly approaches them, notepad and pen in hands.“yeah.”, yoongi clears his throat, eyes back on the menu, where they shouldn’t have even left. “I’ll have the doner.”“and I’ll have the shish kebab, please.”, taehyung has his eyes on yoongi and they’re heavy. “and beer?”“beer!”, yoongi nods excitedly.“beer.”, taehyung repeats with a grin.their food arrives in what feels like seconds, because conversation with taehyung seems to be a portal to another fucking dimension where time is twisted. the boy jumps from subject to subject with ease, no awkward silences. it’s clear people are his thing. yoongi admires that, it’s quite the opposite of himself.“I hate beer.”, taehyung makes a face after taking a sip.“why are you drinking, then?”, yoongi can’t relate, he loves this stuff, makes him feel alive.“I always think I’ll like it next time, never do. seems to make you happy, though.”“it does.”, yoongi smiles, been doing that a lot today. “order something else.”“you just want to drink my beer.”, taehyung chuckles, slides his glass to yoongi anyway. “how’s your food?”“fucking amazing.”“good.”🌙“so I’ve been reading one of your books.”, taehyung reveals after they’re finished, fishing something out of his fancy messenger bag. it’s yoongi’s most recent work and he can see the page marker is already in the middle of it. “and I have some questions.”“of course you have.”, yoongi scoffs. “when did you get this?”“yesterday.”, taehyung answers like it’s nothing. it implies something yoongi is not willing to figure out yet. “so, the main character, mina, she see ghosts, but they’re no ghosts, right?”yoongi used to think of himself as an experienced human being, that saw and heard and lived through a lot, that there was no such thing as him being impressed with anything anymore. but then this damn boy.“what makes you think that?”, yoongi crosses his arms, much less interested in the truth than he is in taehyung’s perspective.“they’re all part of her, yes? aspects of her she has to deal with in order to move on from her mom’s death.”, taehyung talks with gracious hand gestures, like he’s illustrating what he speaks. it’s cute or something. “the spirits she sees are grief and fear and guilt. yeah?”“or maybe they really are ghosts.”, yoongi shrugs, teasing. “you have to finish it.”“aw, c’mon, it’s been killing me.”, taehyung whines. “but I’ve been loving it so far. it’s really beautiful. you have a beautiful mind, yoongi.”yoongi hides his face in his hands, bites down his lower lip to keep him from screaming. he doesn’t know how to take compliments, never did, makes him awkward. he’s fucking awkward. plus, his mind was never called beautiful before. it’s usually not the adjective people would use for it. definitely.“what?”, taehyung tilts his head to the side, seems genuinely confused with yoongi’s reaction.“my mind says thank you.”, yoongi averts his eyes, clears his throat, tries to save some dignity as he’s obviously blushing. “it’s not what people call it.”“well, I think it is.”, taehyung states nonchalantly, thankfully ignoring yoongi’s flustering. “I just have to say it, yeah? your portrait here is shit.”the young man points at the back cover, to the black and white cliche picture of yoongi. he has no clue what’s wrong with it, maybe it’s just his face. he raises his eyebrows in question, waits for taehyung to keep going.“the composition is bad. the angle and the lightning are fucking atrocious.”, taehyung is clearly passionate about this. “I hate to judge other people’s work, but damn.”“if I had it my way, there wouldn’t even be a picture.”, yoongi snorts. “but if you’re so intense about this, I’ll change it.”“let me take it.”, the boy has wide eyes, glowing eyes. makes yoongi gulp. “let me take your picture. please?”and what is yoongi going to do? say no? “yeah, sure. whatever.”🌓they’re walking side by side, arms brushing and synchronized steps at the subway’s station direction. yoongi’s belly is hurting, the good kind, from food and laughter. he can’t wait to get home, though he wouldn’t mind spending some more time with taehyung. or something. whatever.“here’s your jacket.”, yoongi says, starts to take it off, but taehyung stops him, hand in his shoulder.“keep it. looks good on you, yeah?”“stop giving me things.”, yoongi’s protest is pathetic, he just hands taehyung’s ipod and keeps the jacket, for personal reasons.“give me your number, then.”, taehyung has a side smirk and yoongi’s knees are weak for a moment. it doesn’t make sense. someone like him. with someone like yoongi.“sure, pass me your phone.”, he feigns a blasé reaction, his armor for handsome boys being overly nice.taehyung’s lockscreen makes yoongi burst out in laughter, breaking any facade he was trying to show. it’s from an anime yoongi knows nothing about.“what?”, taehyung questions, but seems to realize what’s going on a second later. “oh. oh! oh, god.”the boy hides his face in his hands, ears red and shrinking in himself. yoongi is breathless from how much he cackled.“sorry. sorry. it’s just-”, yoongi holds back a giggle, biting his lower lip. “it just caught me off guard. I didn’t take you for a...”“don’t say it. I’m not. I just like anime. okay?”, the boy seems mortified and it’s so fucking endearing, makes yoongi want to do disgusting things. like pinch his cheeks. pet his hair. maybe hold his hand.“okay. okay.”, yoongi lets it go for the sake of taehyung’s pink cheeks and pleading eyes. “here’s my number.”“you’re so mean. thank you.”, taehyung smiles again, and it’s awkward saying goodbye. yoongi is not sure how to proceed, as they’re past the shaking hands type of farewell and they’re not yet in any more intimate phase.but of course taehyung knows. it’s his thing. the young man places a hand on yoongi’s shoulder, squeezes lightly. safe, comfortable distance. “see you around, yoongi.”he watches the boy walk away, red coat swaying gracefully on his back, until he’s out of sight. “see you.”, he replies, to himself and for his ears only.🌗yoongi unlocks his door, or tries, giving it’s already unlocked. he doesn’t remember much from the last night he was here, it’s all a blur and perhaps better this way.“had fun in the hospital?”, comes a familiar voice, angry and petty and yoongi readies himself for the scold of his life.“hey, namjoon.”“hey my ass.”, the younger says, probably the only person in the universe that can talk with yoongi like that and get away with it. “we talked about this, man. you can’t do this to me.”“I know. I’m sorry.”, yoongi drops his things on the table, takes off taehyung’s jacket and sighs. namjoon is right, as he often is.the younger crosses the living room is large steps and suddenly yoongi is being crushed into a tight hug. he tries to hug back, palming what his hands can reach and he inhales deep, his best friend’s smell making this his home again.“god, I-”, namjoon’s voice softens, his anger always had a short lifespan. “I’m glad you’re terrible at this.”yoongi chuckles, looks around his house, too big and too cold, but it’s his and it’s exactly how he left it. “me too.”“now, let’s talk about it.”, namjoon says firmly, that tone that leaves no room for protest. “and before you make that face, know we wouldn’t have to if you spoke to a therapist.”“yeah, whatever. let me grab some wine.”🌙“so this taehyung boy, he’s going to take your new portrait.”, namjoon is smirking, surely skeptical about the chill yoongi is trying to portray about the whole thing.“yes.”“and you gave him your number.”“yes.”“right.”, namjoon hides his lips with his hand.“you clearly want to say something. spit it out.”, yoongi rolls his eyes, should know better than to provoke namjoon’s honesty, as the younger has some sixth sense type of shit and knows way too much for his own good.“well, I’m just happy, I guess. it’s been too long since I saw you interested in anything, much less a human being.”“why did I even ask?”, yoongi scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. he was never able to lie to namjoon and it’s useless even trying to. he’s interested in taehyung, sure, but he’s uncertain as to how exactly and to what extent.“do you want me to stay?”, namjoon offers and yoongi knows he’s willing.“no, it’s fine.”, yoongi dismisses him with his hand. “I’ll probably spend the night working. thanks.”“no problem. charge your damn phone and keep in touch.”“yes, mom.”, yoongi mocks, but is affectionate and they both know it.after accompanying namjoon to the door and hugging his friend goodbye, yoongi is finally by himself at his home. it’s an allaying feeling, relieving and when he’s himself the most.he grins at his phone, lots of missed calls and messages from his friends. makes him warm inside, so many reminders he’s surrounded by people that give a shit about him. he tries to reply all of them, reassuring them he’s fine, he’s home, he’s working. he doesn’t deserve them, but he’s thankful anyway. things would be even worse without them, he’s sure of it.he’s about to reply to seokjin’s thread of angry messages when a notification pops up.unknownpls tell me this is the right numberreply w an emoji if ur a cute hospital writeryoongi smiles so wide his unaccustomed cheeks hurt from it. there’s no one around, so he can do it as much as he wants to.you🙄taehyungoh thnk god. 🙏now tell me when u can come by my studio n i can photograph the hell out of u 📸📸📸📸🤤🤤it’s an immature dilemma yoongi faces, one he should be ashamed about having in the first place. he doesn’t want to seem too eager, even though he is, pride is a shitty thing. doesn’t want to seem too uninterested either. he feels so stupid, so childish, so sure he’s an uneducated, inexperienced lone gremlin.
youday after tomorrow is fine to you?taehyungyessss!!!!!!! awesome! 😁😁😁😁cant waityoongi is a lone gremlin indeed, pathetic when it comes to people and everything involving them, but he managed. it’s fine. he’ll catch up with work tonight, tomorrow he’ll write, it’s all figured out. it’s fine.🌓
turns out it’s not really fine. he spent the night reading and replying all the emails he got over the week, bullshitting his way through deadlines and requests for updates on his work. he was able to sleep until midday, something very rare and endlessly appreciated. insomnia came in his mental disease package, but he must have missed his very expensive, very nice bed. and it was all good until he decided to write.he’s been staring at the blank page on his notebook screen for what feels like an eternity now, trying to come up with a start for his new project, but the only thing he can think about is taehyung. and as much he didn’t want to acknowledge at first, the boy wasn’t an obstacle for his inspiration. he was the inspiration. which frustrates yoongi to no end, because the thing is: he doesn’t know how to write about this. whatever this is. he has no fucking clue as to what to do with what his mind is trying to portray here. and that has never happened.“goddamn shit.”, he grunts to himself, like the crazy fuck he is. he needs coffee. coffee solves things. coffee will make it better.three mugs later and nothing. absolutely fucking nothing comes out of yoongi’s skinny fingers. he wrote a bunch of random words, the ones his head kept popping out, but none of them made any sense together. sunshine, chatoyant, halcyon, orangery. strangeness and charm. he saw a garden of clouds, adventures in unusual places, a goddamn race in the milky way, explosions of colors, but mostly purple. useless things that wouldn’t fit together, words that couldn’t mean anything by themselves. and the page is blank again. the cursor mockingly blinking at him.he has to give up, knows better than to insist on this, nothing will come out of it, good or bad. maybe he’s just anxious - about seeing that boy tomorrow or perhaps about being home after a long torturous time away. maybe both. it doesn’t matter, except it does, because yoongi feels slightly afraid, possibly terrified, that he’s about to face something he never did in all these years as a writer.the block. writer’s block.he can’t. he never experienced himself, but just the thought of it seems hell like - tantalus myth like, always hungry and always thirsty, food and water always close, but unreachable. yoongi inhales deep through his nose, exhales through his mouth and he repeats the process until he’s calmer, his heartbeat slower. convinces himself tomorrow will not be like this, that after the meeting with taehyung is done, he’ll be able to write again, fingers and mind cooperative.🌗yoongi slept a solid hour, wandered around his house doing nothing but brood and mope. he gets a text in the morning from taehyung with the studio’s address and he thinks his insomnia face will not make a good picture, but at least is fucking true to reality. that’s what he looks like most days. he wonders if he should make an effort, if he should, you know, dress up or maybe he should go casual, everyday clothing. but after displaying almost all of his wardrobe on his bed, he’s still half naked and with the pungent sensation he’s really, really bad at this.youwhat do i wear to a portrait shoot?namjoonyou mean a date with taehyungthe absence of a question mark is intentional, namjoon is through with how he communicates no matter the form. so it wasn’t a question and yoongi rolls his eyes, grunts something incoherent between his teeth.youstfushould’ve asked hobinamjoonwe all think it’s a date 😌black turtleneck w black skinny jeansyoongi looks around the mess he made with his room and notices the pieces mentioned were not among the ones he selected. of course. bad at this. but he would trust namjoon with his life, so it’s natural he’ll trust him with this.youok tksnamjoonwear your glasses and have fun 🌚he can almost see namjoon’s smirk, the implications of his tone. it’s a not a date, yoongi doesn’t date. he’s a workaholic clutter of mental issues and bad personality traits. he’s not suited to be anyone’s, he takes a lot of space and gives none. easily disappointing and disappointed. he doesn’t say any of it, though, doesn’t bother to reply.he’s running late by the time he’s fully dressed in the clothes advised, damn glasses on and silver jewelry adorning his ears, fingers, wrists and neck. he’s not dressed up per se, but he feels like there was an attempt here. or something. he justifies himself in his head, thinking it’s only fair that he looks somewhat put together after taehyung witnessed him at his very worst.🌓yoongi’s confidence slowly decreases as he gets closer to taehyung’s studio to the point he feels absolutely stupid and out of place when he’s knocking on the door. but he does knock and he does wait and when taehyung opens it and reveals himself, yoongi has his breath knocked the fuck out of him.“hey, you’re here! I’m so glad, yeah? come in!”, taehyung is beaming, smile wide and eyes soft arches.but yoongi can’t quite answer him yet, as he’s still absorbing taehyung in a motherfucking dress. it’s not that it’s unusual, yoongi doesn’t really believe in gender norms, he’s a do-you-and-fuck-them kind of guy. so it’s not that. it’s something else entirely, something that makes his mouth dry and his bones unstable. he’s a writer and an observant, so he knows beauty when he sees it, even if he can’t deal with it, react to it.the dress is light blue with thin yellow stripes, knee length and a navy oversized sweater thrown on top of it. and yoongi only stops staring when taehyung’s voice reaches out for him again.“yoongi?”, the young man has a confused expression, head tilted sideways and lips slightly parted, but something in his eyes tells yoongi he knows.“shi- sorry. hi.”, yoongi says awkwardly and steps in through the door, standing in place while taehyung closes it behind them.“you look very handsome.”, taehyung is in front of him now, measuring him head to toe and back, makes his stomach curl. “so good in glasses, yeah? full writer mode.”yoongi smiles shyly, adjusting his glasses now that they were mentioned and he averts his eyes. “you look- um.”, he mumbles dumbly, looking for the right word and realizing there isn’t one. taehyung is stripping him from his own natural abilities. “pretty. the dress...”, he leaves the sentence hanging. stupid.“oh.”, taehyung looks down on himself, grabs the fabric on his tight and makes it flow. “thank you.”, he grins coyly, seems so damn chill about it.“it’s a really nice studio you have.”, yoongi looks around, anywhere but the boy in front of him, and it is nice. it has industrial design vibes and a lot of art pieces on the walls.“you’re full of compliments today.”, taehyung eyes him suspiciously, giggling and turning around on his heels. “do you want anything? I have lots of things to drink, disgusting beer and disgusting coffee included.”“maybe later.”, yoongi follows taehyung instinctively when he starts walking to the other end of the studio, where a gray background is already set, a tall stool in front of it.“okay, so, I’m thinking something very simple, minimalist, yeah? you look like a minimalist kind of guy.”, taehyung explains, gracious gestures. “other than that, I just really want to capture you. and your essence.”“whatever you think is best.”, yoongi attempts to keep it cool, keep it professional.“okay, you can sit on the stool.”, taehyung instructs and yoongi does as he’s told. he feels awkward and silly, not sure how his legs should be, his arms, he’s suddenly aware of every single one of his limbs.taehyung has his digital camera around his neck and he seems to be revising its configurations, clicking the buttons until he’s satisfied.“we’ll try some natural lighting, which I always prefer.”, he states, pointing to the big windows around them to illustrate his point.yoongi simply nods, because to be frank, he doesn’t know an awful lot about photography and doesn’t really care about his portrait. he’s only here because taehyung felt very strongly about his old one. and whatever the other reasons are, yoongi is quick to ignore.click.“what-“, yoongi blinks, then raises an eyebrow. “warning?”taehyung giggles behind his camera. “what’s the fun in that?”, he teases, then proceeds to take a few more. “so I finished your book.”“oh?”, yoongi inquires and he can’t really see taehyung’s face and that bothers him more than he’s willing to admit.“they weren’t ghosts.”“no, they were not.”, yoongi agrees, a hint of smile on his lips.“so I was right and you were mean about it.”, taehyung whines childishly, but doesn’t stop taking the pictures. “but I mean it when I say it became one of my favorites.”“I’m glad to hear it.”“you have the cutest fucking gummy smile.”, taehyung states matter of factly and yoongi can’t really help proving him right. he hears a succession of clicks, then taehyung’s eyes are on him. “what’s your favorite color?”“black.”“black isn’t a color.”, taehyung rolls his eyes. “I can’t never decide mine. do you play videogames?”“not really.”, yoongi answers, doesn’t say anything about the questions, slowly getting used to taehyung and his weird ass things.“shame. I like videogames a lot.”, taehyung shrugs, then lets the camera down. “I think we’re done. do you want to see them?”“sure. will you show me some more of your work?”, yoongi asks and it surprises him too, cause it’s a legitimate interest, not a polite one.taehyung beams, “yes! you’re sweet to ask. come with me.”🌗taehyung leads them to his editing room and it’s so like him to have a low table and cushions on the floor yoongi can’t be bothered to be surprised anymore. they sit beside one another and taehyung plugs his camera in. he starts showing the pictures he took of yoongi, rambling about something yoongi can’t quite understand, because he’s so fucking astonished. he has never seen himself like this, dares to think he’s almost beautiful. not quite, not really, but almost. like a raw type of beauty, unconventional maybe, ill and kind of soft, kind of angry.“is that me?”, he asks dumbly, more to himself than anything, but taehyung catches it.“well, I think so.”, the boy teases, a playful smirk on his lips.“I’ve never-”, yoongi starts, eyes fixed on the screen. “it doesn’t even look like me.”taehyung snorts, “that’s exactly how you look like.”“no. you made this.”, yoongi finally looks back at taehyung and they’re quite close. a reminder that no matter what his pictures looks like, nothing and no one, probably, will ever be as beautiful as taehyung. which is a fucked up thing to consider, even for yoongi’s standards.“this kind of beauty cannot be made, yeah?”, taehyung says, his tone lower and more serious than yoongi remembers hearing. “my goal as a photographer is to capture things as they really are. the closest a picture can get to realness and essence, that’s what I aim for, see?”yoongi does nothing but nod, must look pretty stupid with his mouth hanging open and his eyes tearing up from how he’s not blinking, but taehyung says nothing more, keeps scrolling through pictures, decides one of them, the one yoongi is not quite smiling but close enough, is the one they should go for.“okay.”, yoongi agrees, it doesn’t matter to him, he decides on the spot that if it’ll make the boy happy, he’ll go along.taehyung shows his work as promised, some analog he keeps on albums, some digital, even some phone ones. people and places and things. he doesn’t explain much, yoongi realizes he must figure out himself or it doesn’t make much sense. taehyung makes him figure out things, which he never really does. taehyung is a beauty seeker and a beauty seer like yoongi predicted, but his photographs makes yoongi see beauty too. it’s a side of reality he’s not used to seeing or maybe he forgot.taehyung is extremely talented. not the gifted kind, the hard work and passion kind. because he makes people see what he sees and that’s the ultimate goal for an artist, isn’t it?“how about that coffee?”, taehyung makes a face when he says it, but smiles right after it.“yeah, sounds good.”🌓“for someone who doesn’t like coffee, you make a hell of an espresso.”, yoongi says, taking another sip from his mug.“well, thank you.”, taehyung bows his head, “I enjoy making it.”“life and its cruel ironies.”, yoongi chuckles, keeps the hint that he’s available for coffee always to himself, “your work is really impressive, taehyung. I don’t think I’ve seen something like that.” it’s an impulsive thing to say, but it’s been nagging him and it’s the truth.taehyung’s eyes widen for a second, then he’s stepping closer, standing in front of yoongi in a distance not so safe. “really?”“really.”, yoongi’s breath is stuck in his throat, he feels like fleeing, like getting the fuck out of here. “I-”“do you want to kiss me?”, taehyung asks in a whisper, deep voice even deeper.“yes.”, the answer comes first from his mouth, then from his mind. easy.“will you?”“no.”, yoongi’s holding the mug so tightly his fingers are numb. easier. that’s an easier question to answer.“okay.”, taehyung says, slowly and ever so softly taking the empty mug out of yoongi’s grasp, warm hands quickly touching his own. “it’s fine, yeah?”“I should,” yoongi clears his throat, his voice cracks all the same, “leave.”“okay.”, taehyung says again, smile firm on his lips, like they’re not ruining yoongi at all. “see you around, yoongi.”🌗yoongi doesn’t remember the way home, doesn’t remember going through the door, can’t tell if he locked it or not and he can’t bring himself to care. his mind is somewhere else entirely, probably back in taehyung’s studio, maybe it never left, didn’t come home with him.he’s sitting on the bed with the stupid clothes namjoon picked for him and he’s not even comfortable, he just doesn’t feel like moving. he’s just kind of there and he’s been kind of there for some time, since he realized that was one of the first times he ever denied a self-destructive act. because it would be. it would be some icarus type of shit.gross metaphor, he’d never use this bullshit on one of his books, but it’s true, it’s fitting. yoongi learned very soon that he needed an armor, a shell that would protect him, preserve the soft bastard inside, the one few know about. fucking turtle.yoongi doesn’t date, because he either doesn’t give a fuck or he gives all of them at once. he doesn’t do detachment — once attached, he can’t let go. so yeah, it’s self-preservation time, like rarely. he’s not kissing beautiful boys that could tear him to pieces. beautiful boys that are the embodiment of all things pretty and all things dangerous, that have heartbreak written all over them.and maybe this shit he’s thinking about taehyung is not the definition of unattached.maybe yoongi is very much attached.fuck.🌓“fucking hell.”, yoongi mumbles under his breath while he types, slender fingers moving so fast his tendons are starting to hurt trying to keep up with his thoughts.it’s a poem and it’s been some time, but that’s the only thing he feels like writing now, which is weird as shit and exciting too, cause at least he’s writing.yoongi never had a muse, per definition of muse, a human being, he never really got what the deal was and why it was so important, never felt the need to find one. he guesses now he understands — it’s sort of exhilarating and sort of scary, to have that much inspiration coming from one person, to think of a thousand metaphors that don’t fit just right, but it’s the closest words can get to describe it. him. taehyung.“shit.”, yoongi grunts through his teeth, he’s not used to this. he’s freaked out, if he’s honest, by the way words spill from him, poem after poem and he wonders if there’s a limit to the number of ways one can describe beauty.because taehyung is fucking beautiful. not only his stupid, big, unevenly shaped eyes and his stupid fluffy light brown hair and his stupid smooth golden skin. it’s his freaking moles and his boxy smile and his unbelievably deep voice. it’s his genuine nature and his unapologetic way, his geniality and smartness and his artist soul and—“god.”, yoongi places his elbows on his desk, lets his head fall into his hands, wants to scream, but won’t. he thinks of all the words he knows that can describe what he feels, but ultimately, there’s just one. whipped. yoongi is fucking whipped.🌗hobiopen the dooooooor ✨im outside and i have foooood ✨yoongi rolls his eyes, drags his feet across the living room and takes a deep breath before opening the door.“yoongi!”, hoseok exclaims, wide smile shrinking when his eyes meet yoongi’s. “wow, you look like shit.”“thanks.”, yoongi huffs, makes way for hoseok to come in, eyeing the bags his friend is carrying. “what have you brought?”“decent food, which you don’t seem to have had this week.”, the younger accuses and it’s not a lie. yoongi didn’t even left the house the past couple of days, or week. ever since taehyung’s studio, however long that shit was. “so I took matter into my own hands, sit your ass down and let’s eat.”“you’re annoying.”, yoongi says, doesn’t mean it, they’re both aware.it’s chinese food and yoongi feels grateful. they’re sitting on the couch, cross legged and facing each other. they’re quiet for some time, but yoongi knows that won’t last, he can almost hear hoseok’s head gears spinning, so he prepares himself.“what have you been up to lately?”, the younger questions and it’s just a warm up.“writing, most of the time. avoiding reality in the rest of it.”, yoongi confesses, because there’s really no point in trying to go around it.“figured as much.”, hoseok shrugs, mouth full and weak smile. “what inconvenient truth have you discovered this time?”here it comes. “that I’m a pathetic motherfucker.”“we all know that, it ain’t a discovery.”, hoseok teases, laughing loudly as he always does. “look, you’re the whole isolated goblin type, but it felt different this time, so what’s the deal?”yoongi won’t question hoseok’s perception of him, even if he has no idea how the fuck does the younger knows this time is different from hospital visits or simply yoongi being an asshole and ignoring everyone. all his friends seem to know him better than he does himself.“I think-”, yoongi starts, needs a pause to breathe, because it’s hard. saying it out loud. makes it too real. he pokes his food with his chopsticks, keeps his eyes there intently. “how do you say you’re falling in love without sounding stupid?”“I think you just did.”, hoseok breathes out after choking on his orange chicken. “well. holy fuck?”“holy fuck indeed.”, yoongi nods, puts food in his mouth before he screams or cries or throws up, all possible reactions to the confirmation of what kept him inside these walls for all this time.“I have so many questions.”, hoseok is smiling so wide his cheekbones are on his eyes, he giddily gestures with his chopsticks in yoongi’s direction. “first, whomst?”yoongi figures hoseok knows better than to ask him if he’s sure, knows yoongi would never say something like that without meaning it, feeling it. even if yoongi is not certain himself, he’s never been in love before, but sure feels that way. “taehyung.”“I knew it!”, hoseok celebrates. “first time you mentioned him, I knew it. seokjin owes namjoon and me.”“you fucks bet on this?”, yoongi squints his eyes, though he’s not at all surprised.“yeah?”, the younger rolls his eyes, “so when are you gonna tell him?”“I’m not.”, yoongi shrugs.“you’re kidding.”, hoseok deadpans.yoongi shakes his head, “nope.”“yoongi, you’re fucking stupid.”, the younger says, frustration clear in his voice. “I mean, what exactly are you afraid of here?”yoongi doesn’t answer. keeps to himself that’s he’s afraid he’s going to burst only having known the guy for a couple of weeks. that all the possible outcomes for him telling taehyung involves him getting rejected one way or another, sooner or later. that he doesn’t know how to love someone, it’s stupid, but that shit’s hard. that he will never be able to write about anything else ever again.he feels a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly and hoseok’s voice is closer and soft. “do what you think is best, bro, but you won’t know until you try.”🌓the doorbell rings in the morning, so he’s sure it’s not anyone he knows. his friends know better than to bother him in the morning. the stranger got lucky, though, as he’s been dressed since four in the morning trying to decide whether he should leave the house or not.he’s surprised that the person behind the door is as short as himself, which doesn’t happen often. the guy has a cast on his arm and yoongi was always good at math, so this equation is pretty easy to solve. doesn’t make him any less nervous, though.“jimin, right?”, he asks for confirmation, looking stupid is not one of his strong suits.“how-”, the guys looks pissed for a reason unknown to yoongi. “whatever. here’s your portrait.”jimin hands him a pendrive with his good arm. yoongi takes a glance at taehyung’s signature on his cast, big red smiley face next to it, can’t hold a smile of his own. “thanks.”“fyi, I’m here because taehyung thought he’d make you uncomfortable.”, jimin states, harsh tone on his pretty voice. “he’s sad about it, so I’m mad about it. what’s your deal?”people keep asking what yoongi’s deal is and he has no fucking idea. he was minding his own damn business when the kid showed up and stole his abilities and his thoughts and made a mess out of everything yoongi thought he knew, so he’s the one who should be mad.“what’s my deal? what’s your deal?”, yoongi crosses his arms, eyebrow defiantly raised.“ugh.”, jimin snorts, eyes rolling back to yoongi in a hard stare. “taehyung does have a soft spot for assholes.”“what are you calling me an asshole for?!”, yoongi asks, but it sounds like a whine, he feels so tired. “what the fuck?”jimin takes a step towards yoongi, who doesn’t bother to move. if he’s honest to himself, whatever it is that happened, will happen, he probably deserves it.“jimin!”, a third voice comes out of nowhere, strong and deep and so familiar yoongi is sure he’s dreaming. “stop, you tiny devil.”taehyung reveals himself from his hiding spot, holding jimin by the shoulders and quickly making the smaller step back. “hi, yoongi.”“hi, taehyung.”, yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, it’s only morning and he already feels like imploding. “what’s going on?”taehyung gestures for jimin to leave, who opens his mouth to protest, but seems to give up halfway, sighing in defeat. “I’ll be in the studio, tae. be careful.”, he says to taehyung as he walks towards the sidewalk, throwing a final glare at yoongi’s direction, a warning. maybe a threat.“come in.”, yoongi makes space for taehyung, lacking the energy for good decisions and thoughtful actions.“okay.”🌗“how did you find my address?”, yoongi questions, pouring himself a mug of coffee after handing taehyung a cup of tea.“googled the publishing company of your books, found a phone, called it and then a guy named namjoon gave it to me.”, taehyung explains, his posture different from usual, withdrawn and not as bright.“of course he did.”, yoongi scoffs, gestures for taehyung to sit down on the couch, hesitates to sit there himself. “could’ve asked me.”“I wasn’t sure you’d talk to me, yeah?”, the boy confesses, shrugging shyly. “are you mad at me, yoongi?”shit. “I’m not mad at you.”, yoongi sighs, allows his body to drop hard on the couch after all, coffee almost spilling from his mug, a couple of feet apart from taehyung. “that’s some angry friend you have.”“oh.”, taehyung chuckles weakly, “jimin is protective. he’s nice, most of the time.”“he called me an asshole.”“he didn’t mean it.”“maybe he’s right.”, yoongi looks down at his hands and the air is heavy around him, weighing down on his shoulders. “I’m sorry about that day.”taehyung places his cup on the coffee table, oversized lilac sweater hiding his hands, then he’s scooping closer, just a little bit, just enough for his warmth to reach yoongi. “it’s fine, yeah? I think I read things wrong.”yoongi inhales deeply and it’s all taehyung, what he smells and what he sees and what he feels, overwhelming and all over. he realizes, sweaty hands placing his mug somewhere else, that he would never be able to escape this, thinks nobody would. nobody could. “you didn’t.”, he murmurs, forcing his eyes to look up, meet taehyung’s and fucking drown there.“do you believe in love at first sight, yoongi?”, taehyung asks, running his fingers through his dark caramel strands, ruffling an already messy hair.“no.”, is what yoongi answers. sight involves limited perception of someone, it reduces love to appearance and he may not know a whole lot about love, but one thing he’s sure is that you can’t fall in love solely with someone’s look. that shit ain’t love.“me neither.”, taehyung nods, his smile firm, but his cheeks are painted a pretty shade of pink, his fidgeting hands give his nervousness away. “but I- I do believe in a visceral curiosity, you know? like, you see someone and you’re immediately, very intensely interested about them. want to know more, yeah?”yoongi grins timidly, his stomach in flames and his heart clenching on his chest, because taehyung is exceptional, with his unique perspective, seems to go where most people don’t, looking for answers where no one does. and he’s right, it makes perfect sense. yoongi agrees, because that’s exactly how he felt the first time he laid eyes on the kid, he just didn’t know what it was, most likely didn’t feel like addressing it, but of course taehyung knows.“that’s how I felt about you, see?”, taehyung beats him to it, people being his thing and yoongi being a coward. “first time I saw you on that hospital, I just- I wanted to know you, know more. never saw someone like you.”“stop.”, yoongi cuts him off, because god, it’s really happening. yoongi is really allowing himself to take this risk. “fuck. me too.”“yeah?”, taehyung traps his lower lip between his teeth, brown eyes wide and pleading. what is that he’s pleading for, yoongi can’t say.“yeah. I’ve never met someone like you, taehyung.”, yoongi murmurs, his voice unstable as his whole body, ready to betray him at any moment. “you scare the shit out of me.”“do you still want to kiss me?”, taehyung’s voice is low, a whisper like before, but it echoes loud inside yoongi.“yes.”, the word has a bittersweet taste, heavy on his tongue.“will you?”, taehyung faces him, turns his whole body at yoongi’s direction, eyes now expectant, glowing, soft and so fucking brown.yoongi feels out of his own body for a moment, the way he used to back then, just before doing something really stupid and really reckless. “yes.”, his trembling voice manages to be released and he invites taehyung to the open space on his lap. “come here.”taehyung squints his eyes, looking for something, probably doubt, probably uncertainty, maybe all of it, but seems to find none of that and smiles, that boxy one, full of teeth ready to devour yoongi’s sanity. the boy sits on yoongi’s tights, knees on each side of his legs and it’s warm. not warm, it’s scalding. yoongi cups his face, slender pale fingers contrasting the other’s tanned skin, feels velvety, unreal, undeserved. taehyung leans in to the touch, emits a sound uncannily similar to a purr and places his hands on yoongi’s shoulders for support. it’s intimate, though not sexual, it just feels kind of right. like they did this before. weird shit.yoongi pulls taehyung’s face closer, feels the boy’s breath on his skin, warm and chamomile scented, shaky like his own. he grazes their lips, wants to give time and space for taehyung to back down, but as it’s been between them, yoongi takes a small step towards the cliff, taehyung pushes him off the edge. the boy presses their mouths together, lips fitting between each other, not perfect, but they adjust. and adjust. and adjust until it’s just right.until yoongi’s eyes are closing and he takes the fucking leap, melting in sensation and the need for more, for taste. he sticks his tongue shyly between them and taehyung parts his lips, inviting it in, nesting it with his own. it’s just flesh and saliva and human, but yoongi tastes tea and fucking heaven, if that’s even a thing. or hell. or both. his hands slip down to the boy’s neck, his sides and rest on his waist, tiny waist, soft skin beneath the fabric of his sweater. taehyung moans bashfully, like an involuntary throat sound and yoongi wants to scream, but kisses harder instead. he bites and licks and sucks, he engraves the sounds and taste in his mind, all of it, just in case it’s an one time thing, just in case he’ll never get to do this again. taehyung ruined it for everyone. for yoongi included, who thinks he’ll never get over this, will never think or write about anything else.they only part their lips for the inconvenient need to breathe, but keep their foreheads joined, absorbing each other’s ragged breaths. yoongi opens his eyes to find taehyung’s already staring at him.“do you want to-”, yoongi is not really sure what he’s asking, so he interrupts himself. could be anything, as long as taehyung stays. or something like that.“do you think I can carry you?”, taehyung asks, voice a bit raspier than usual, lips redder, the question seems foreign in it, but it doesn’t surprise yoongi in the slightest.“to where?”, he sighs, tries to act annoyed by the prospect of being manhandled by a kid, but honestly, he wouldn’t mind.“to your bedroom, maybe?”, how someone can sound so sexual and so not sexual at the same time is a mystery yoongi is yet to solve.“you can try.”and try taehyung does, getting off yoongi’s lap and up, hooking an arm under yoongi’s legs and the other on his back. the boy lifts him up bridal style easily, even when he plays dead, releasing all his weight. there’s something strangely comfortable about being carried like this, something about it making him feel safe, even if it’s a little embarrassing, a little too much.“I did it!”, taehyung exclaims, wide grin and completely unaffected.“congratulations.”, yoongi rolls his eyes, but smiles too, holding onto taehyung’s neck with both arms. “it’s at the end of the corridor.”“okay, hold on.”🌓yoongi isn’t sure what he was expecting, he learned early on when meeting taehyung that things with him usually go unusual places. one of the reasons why yoongi is so scared of him, and so intrigued, possibly fond of. so when taehyung carried him to his bedroom, delicately laying his body on the bed, yoongi had a few ideas to where this might lead. cuddling was one of them, sure, probably in like, 5th place on the list. so he’s not really surprised when taehyung lies beside him, half his body on top of yoongi, snuggling and holding him like a pillow, head on his chest and quiet like never, just breathing. yoongi is afraid that, like this, taehyung will hear his heartbeat, will sense when it’s faster, when it’s stronger, will know yoongi is afraid of what he’s feeling, that he’s confused and new to all of this, that he’s absolutely sure taehyung has no idea of the mess he’s getting himself in to.“your heart.”, taehyung murmurs, the sound of his voice vibrating on yoongi’s chest. he doesn’t add anything else, though, seems to just want to let yoongi know he knows.“sor-”, yoongi is about to apologize when taehyung shifts on top of him, grabbing yoongi’s hand and placing over his own chest.yoongi can feel it, taehyung’s heart, beating just as fast as his own, pounding against his palm. “I don’t really understand it either.”, taehyung says, shrugging timidly and breathing out a soft giggle. maybe it’s okay.“what’s the name of that anime of yours?”, yoongi asks out of the blue, because he feels like he’s going insane if he keeps trying to comprehend and letting shit go isn’t something he’s good at. he holds taehyung’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.the boy beams at him with glowing eyes, “boku no hero. it’s about kids with powers.”“do you wanna watch it with me?”, yoongi tilts his head to the side, his chin touching taehyung’s hair.“fuck yeah!”, taehyung tightens his fingers around yoongi’s and proceeds to use his free hand to dominate the remote control of the tv, practically fidgeting with excitement. “you’re sweet to ask.”🌗turns out yoongi likes the boku no hero thing, he gets the appeal. the plot is fun and the characters are interesting, sure, cool fight scenes and some drama, but it’s not that. yoongi likes it, because while watching, he discovers a new side of taehyung, the child inside, the one that rambles happily, explaining the plot to yoongi with excited eyes and dramatic hand gestures — the one that makes sound effects with his mouth, that cheers and laughs loudly. the one underneath the charming, mysterious man and the artist, the kid yoongi has been referring to.and it makes him realize taehyung really is like the sun. it’s another shitty metaphor, but apparently he brings the worst of the writer in yoongi. see, the sun has no idea it is beautiful, it comes in the morning, brings light and warmth and life, graces the world with the possibility to see all thing worth being alive for. the sun doesn’t know it is beautiful when it rises, when it is on its peak, when it leaves. just like taehyung doesn’t know that he’s beautiful when he barges in, when he stays and will be when he leaves. and, just like the sun, once gone, everything is dark and lifeless until they come again.“so, so, so, what did you think?”, taehyung asks him while holding his shirt on a tight fist, pulling like a child seeking attention.yoongi wonders if taehyung shares this part of himself with someone else. if it’s of easy access or hidden for selected people to see, wonders if yoongi is anything special for witnessing it. “I liked it so far.”“it’s so cool, yeah?”, taehyung turns on his belly on the mattress, crosses his arms on yoongi’s chest and his chin rests on his hands. so close, so attentive to yoongi. “if you could have a superpower, what would it be?”yoongi wants to caress taehyung’s hair, but he doesn’t. he keeps his hands on the sides of his body instead. “I think invisibility. you?”“oh, I’d love to have healing powers! like healing bruises and diseases and sadness, I’d heal all of that.”, taehyung tells him like it’s not something he already does often.their answers do say a lot about them, though. yoongi wants to disappear and taehyung wants to take care of people, it’s not a good match, but yoongi knew this already. he’s no good for this kid.“do you want to stay the night?”, he asks anyway, selfish prick he is.“yes.”, taehyung says anyway, caring boy he is.🌙taehyung slept in one of yoongi’s old shirts and a pair of slacks that fit a bit tight, for yoongi’s delight and terror. they cuddled and talked, whispered conversations about art and growing up in a farm, to which both can relate, about how they got to the place where they are and yoongi feels not sad. not numb. not absent. new.“goodnight, yoongi.”, taehyung murmurs when they’re feeling too sleepy to keep talking, “thank you.”“for what?”“for letting me in.”yoongi kisses him for lack of words, because he knows what it means and there’s no reason to be thankful for this, but taehyung is. it’s chaste and it’s quick, just a brush of lips, but taehyung smiles and closes his eyes and yoongi falls asleep wishing for the next day to come. also new.🌓yoongi wakes up to an empty bed, the spot where taehyung laid beside him already cold with his absence, not really unexpected. he stays in bed for some time, lingering in the sheets that don’t smell only of himself and realizes no one’s ever shared his bed with him. taehyung was the first and yoongi has let him without giving it a second thought, like of course, like he belonged there. he stretches the thought out of his system and tries not feel utterly devastated.a smell invades his nostrils all of a sudden, one that doesn’t make any sense, because it’s food and it’s coffee and then yoongi is up on his feet in no time. maybe. maybe it’s the good scenario for once.he walks slowly to the kitchen, following the smell to its source and he’s met with a vision his most wild dreams couldn’t fathom. taehyung has flour on his nose and on his cheeks, he dances and hums to a song in his head, sloppily flipping pancakes and yoongi could get used to this mess on his kitchen.“good morning.”, yoongi announces himself, as much as he’d enjoy watching the other.taehyung startles with his voice, but is soon opening a shining grin at yoongi’s direction, eyes softening with the sight of him. “good morning, yoongi. I’m making pancakes.”“I can see that.”, yoongi says, can’t contain a smile of his own. “I also smelled coffee.”“yes, yes, I made coffee too. for you.”, taehyung points to the thermal bottle on the counter and yoongi proceeds to serve himself.“thank you.”“I’m sorry if I couldn’t use your kitchen, but I thought you’d be hungry. I was hungry.”, taehyung explains himself, but he doesn’t need to.“it’s okay, tae.”, and yoongi covers his mouth like he just committed blasphemy on a church. now where the fuck did “tae” came from?but taehyung just smiles at him wider and leans in closer, his lips pouting. yoongi is unsure if the boy is asking for a kiss, but he wants to kiss him, so he does it anyway. a light peck, just fitting their lips together.“we did the order all wrong, didn’t we?”, yoongi says, licking his own mouth clean, tasting coffee and taehyung, it’s a powerful combination.“what do you mean?”“I mean, we’re all domestic and we just had our first kiss.”“oh.”, taehyung blinks at him, then starts serving his weird shaped pancakes on a big plate. “no such thing as an order when it comes to these things, yeah?”yoongi nods, because taehyung is right. no such thing as an order to these things, whatever these things are.“plus,” taehyung continues, “if you mean what I think you mean, that’s easily fixable.”yoongi chokes on his coffee then, to the sound of deep, loud laughter.🌗two months go by fast. yoongi doesn’t even notice when winter arrives and he’s surprised to wake up with snow covering his windows. time was never fast to him.the truth is that he’s the best he’s ever been, feels the happiest he can recall ever feeling. it’s a strange, uneasy thing. it’s easy to grow used to feeling sad and tired and apathetic and when too much time passes, it’s all one knows — it blends into the personality and it becomes hard to distinguish one from the other. what’s depression and what’s the person who existed before it.so it’s scary when things change like that, yoongi doesn’t know what kind of shit will come to the surface, beneath all that his condition buried. it’s scary feeling happy when he doesn’t know how to.and it’s because of taehyung, he has no doubt about that. they’ve been seeing each other almost everyday and when not, they exchange messages about their daily lives to the most boring of details. yoongi even managed to get into jimin’s good side and his friends like taehyung more than they like him. seeing taehyung is what makes him wake up looking forward for the day and fall asleep excited for the next, because there’s something new to learn about the boy and from the boy, is what makes him feel okay, feel not lonely. taehyung is a friend he’s in love with, that lets yoongi kiss him from time to time, no name to what they are, but it’s alright, they don’t need to be nothing more. it’s just fine, because taehyung has been healing him one day at a time.“namjoon?”, yoongi steps into his agent’s office, “it’s done.”namjoon looks up and smiles softly, “that’s incredible! and fast.”, he chuckles lightly.yoongi places the manuscript on namjoon’s desk, knows he prefers to read it printed first, it allows him to see the structure better. plus, he’s an old schooler. “let me know what you think once you finish it”, he says like he’s not nervous about this one at all.it’s a poem compilation, and the vast majority of them it’s about the boy who’s been saving his life, it’s about the fear of love, the fear of letting someone in when you’re a sick piece of shit, the fear of getting better, of not wanting things to end after wishing for it so much. it’s all of that, but make it poetic. so he’s nervous as hell, sort of hoping taehyung will read it, sort of hoping he doesn’t, because it will feel like a confession and maybe yoongi is not ready for that at all.🌗“hi, tae.”, yoongi opens the door to his house for taehyung automatically, been doing this a lot lately, “come in.”“oh my god, I’m so excited!”, taehyung has two very large plastic bags in his hands and he drops them both on the floor to give yoongi a tight hug and a kiss on his cheek. “I love christmas so much.”when yoongi told taehyung he never had a christmas tree in his house, he didn’t expect the intense offended reaction he got, like he kicked a puppy or something. taehyung insisted they decorated one this year and yoongi learned quickly he could not say no to taehyung if he tried. so he bought a tree, plain and recyclable, placed it in the center of his living room and waited for taehyung’s intervention.“how’s your book going?”, taehyung asks while kneeling on the floor, rummaging through the stuff he brought and yoongi gulps.“it’s gonna be released next year.”, he says with some struggle, realizing taehyung is wearing a dress, something he should be used to by now, but can never get over how beautiful he looks in one, specially with thick stockings and combat boots.“I’ll be the first one to buy it, since you’re so mysterious about it.”, taehyung smirks, then points to the tree, “now let’s get this tree pretty, yeah?”they spend the whole afternoon at it, with short coffee and tea breaks, some snacks breaks, some holding hands and thinking about it together break, yoongi’s favorite and at the end of it, they’re watching their handiwork from the couch, taehyung lying his head on yoongi’s lap.“it’s... interesting.”, yoongi states, looking at the adorned tree. it’s not usual, but he didn’t expect any less. it has orange lights, some neon colored balls and polaroid pictures taehyung took of them hanging from the branches and on the very top, a plastic full moon.“it’s beautiful, yeah? ours.”“why not a star on top?”, yoongi asks, burying his fingers in taehyung’s hair.“stars are nice, but they’re dead.”, taehyung shrugs, “the moon is always there, shining even if surrounded by darkness and dead things.”“there’s beauty in death, no?”, yoongi ponders, thinks how he thought of it as inviting, but not anymore.“for those alive it doesn’t, no. I like things that thrive to be alive when all else isn’t. it’s hard, yeah?”, taehyung is unique, just like the tree, just like their relationship. “I’m glad you’re alive.”yoongi giggles, heart warm from the way taehyung looks at him, really looks, like his existence means more than just being here. “I’m glad you’re alive too.”🌓they spend christmas together, both of their families gathering at yoongi’s house, big enough for all of them. it was taehyung’s idea, of course, yoongi wouldn’t have invited his parents otherwise. they’ve never been to his place, he didn’t have plans for them to, but taehyung said that what’s christmas is all about, so he gave them this chance, for him.“you did well for yourself.”, his father says, like the words taste like shit.“no thanks to you.”, yoongi says back, and pride is the one thing they seem to share. “enjoy the evening.”yoongi meets taehyung’s parents and he can’t help feeling envious of their relationship, how supportive and loving and caring, but yoongi also feels so, so glad taehyung has this, because it’s probably the reason he’s so good. yoongi can feel thankful after all.“I’m so glad we finally get to meet you.”, taehyung’s mother greets him with a warm hug, “taehyung talks endlessly about you.”“mom!”, taehyung protests, hiding his face in his hands, ears getting pink at the tips.“but it’s true!”, taehyung’s father continues, “yoongi this, yoongi that.”and yoongi smiles wide and all teeth at that, knowing he exists in a version only taehyung can share. and he does share.after dinner, his mother cries in his shoulder, says she’s happy for him and so proud. and so sorry. says she’s relieved he found love, though she doesn’t understand what kind of love is that. he doesn’t either, but he stays silent, holds her tighter, kisses her hair and hopes she understands he forgives her.he only cries when his father does, when they hug each other and don’t say anything at all, not even goodbye. but it’s not something words can fix, yoongi learns, just time. it’s a start, nevertheless, it’s something.taehyung and yoongi only give each other their gifts when they’re alone, sitting on the floor by their tree, sipping on the killer mulled wine taehyung’s mother made.“mine first, mine first.”, taehyung says, handing the perfectly wrapped box to yoongi. the paper is multicolored and the bow holographic — yoongi grins because it’s so taehyung, he’d recognize it anywhere.“we should open together.”, he says while handing his own, a black wrapped box with a silver bow. they think alike, he figures, but not quite.“I like the way you think.”, the boy smiles, clapping excitedly after he places his gift on his lap.they race each other to it, giggling loudly as they fumble clumsily with the wrappings, managing to reveal their gifts almost at the same time.“oh.”, they say in unison, blinking at each other dumbly.“a watch?”, yoongi asks, though he’s not questioning the gift, he’s curious about why. it’s a nice watch, looks expensive, there are multiple pointers for multiple things, even a compass. the background seems to be a constellation, the pisces one. taehyung remembered. it’s a detail, but he kept it. it’s something yoongi will keep for later.“so you don’t ever get lost, yeah?”, taehyung says, a shy shrug of shoulders and twist of his lips, “in time or space or anywhere else.”“thank you.”, yoongi says, wearing it around his right wrist, thinks it’s time to throw every other watch he owns away.“and you bought me... a dog collar?”, taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking with the leash hanging from his index finger. yoongi didn’t think this through and feels fucking stupid now. “I had the feeling you were kinky, but damn.”“no! it’s not- god.”, yoongi hides his face in his hands, “I was planning to take you to a dog shelter- you said-”“what?!”, taehyung is crawling at his direction with wide eyes.“yes, you said you wanted a dog?”, yoongi tries, looking at the boy through his fingers.“oh. my. god.”, and suddenly, just like that, they’re both lying on the floor, taehyung on top of yoongi, a tight hug and unintelligible excited rambles. “you’re the fucking sweetest ever! when are we going?”“whenever you want to.”, yoongi tries to hug back, hands resting on taehyung’s small back and his heart races with the proximity, the touch, the feeling of the other’s whole body.“can I kiss you? please let me kiss you.”, taehyung whispers and yoongi can’t even manage a proper answer before their lips crash together. taehyung never asked that before.
🌗when yoongi is by himself, usually in the middle of the night, he’s often struck with the thought taehyung is something like a close, really close friend. more friend than his friends. allows him more. and that normally leads him into wondering if taehyung loves him like yoongi does, knowing the soft heart that inhabits the boy’s chest — if he only indulges yoongi because he knows yoongi’s broken inside, wants to heal and make it better, fix it somehow, knows how to. not that it matters much, yoongi figures he’d be satisfied with anything taehyung decides to give him, but it’s like an itch he can’t really scratch away. what if taehyung is only doing this because he thinks he can’t hurt yoongi anymore? that the damage would be too big now? what if taehyung only wanted a friend and yoongi had to ruin it by falling in love?like an itch.because yoongi knows he’s like the reverse midas, everything he touches turns to shit. but he can’t. not this. so he accepts, accepts what taehyung gives, what he allows, what he’s willing and what he’s offering and yoongi will not ask for more. even if in his core he knows it’s not really enough, it will have to suffice, after all, it’s much more than he deserves.🌗taehyung hosts a birthday party in his own apartment, inviting all his closest friends and it’s the first time yoongi goes there. he’s the first one to arrive, per taehyung’s request and the whole place, unexplainably, feels like the boy. open and inviting, the art on the walls, the anime and games action figures, the discrete mess and contradictory - as in paradoxal, contrasting - decor. the smell is overwhelming, like breathing taehyung constantly, but yoongi decides right away he likes it, it’s safe and warm and welcoming. he could get used to it. maybe.“hi!”, taehyung greets him with a hug and a kiss on his cheek.“happy birthday, tae.”, yoongi hugs back, takes a good look at the boy in front of him, dressed to impress in loose black silk shirt and a pair of light jeans. not that yoongi is never not impressed, but he sometimes thinks taehyung will be the death of him. the good kind of death.but he doesn’t get the chance to say it, maybe he wasn’t even planning to, before he hears quick light steps coming at his direction. “tannie!”the small pomeranian puppy jumps at his leg, wagging its tail frenetically. yoongi lifts it in his arms, holding it close while caressing its fur. taehyung has a boxy smile and soft eyes, “I wanted you guys to have some time together before the guests arrive.”, he says, “you haven’t seen each other since the shelter.”“true.”, yoongi nods, looking at the puppy in his arms, with the collar yoongi bought hanging loose around its neck. “it’s too big for you, huh? maybe you’ll grow into it.”“unlike some.”, taehyung teases, raising both of his eyebrows suggestively.“are you trying to say something?”, yoongi squints his eyes, “coming for my height? don’t talk to me or my son ever again.”taehyung laughs wholeheartedly, “I like small things.”“hopefully not all small things.”, yoongi scoffs, “otherwise you’re gonna be very disappointed.”, he says and walks away to the sound of taehyung choking on his own saliva and yoongi smirks, satisfied with himself.yoongi puts tannie down, the puppy circulating his legs before lying comfortably on its little bed. he wanders around the apartment, stopping by the collection of pictures hanging on the corridor wall, he takes his time with each one, knows taehyung took them, because they feel alive, like yoongi was there.“I know probably every photographer says this, but there’s nothing like capturing a moment like that.”, taehyung stands by his side, offering a glass of something yoongi supposes is whiskey. “I don’t drink whiskey, but I’ve seen the bottles in your house.”“thank you, tae.”, yoongi tries to convey by the brush of their fingers what he can’t bring himself to say with words. “and no, there’s nothing like that. these are nice.”“thank you.”, taehyung smiles when yoongi leans his head on his shoulder and he rests his head back. “these are from the city where I was born. a reminder of who I am, where I came from. innocent times, I guess.”yoongi nods, he can see that. not that he had much of those, innocent times, but he can see it, almost feel it, because taehyung portraits them just right.“this is the house I grew up in, yeah?”, taehyung points to one of the photographs, “it was small, we struggled, but it smelled like fresh strawberries and we were very close.”“I grew up in somewhere similar, though...”, yoongi sighs, going back to a place he always promises himself he’s not going to.“let’s sit, I made some secret spicy chicken.”, taehyung places a hand on yoongi’s shoulder.“why is it secret?”“cause it’s just for the two of us, yeah? don’t go telling.”🌙and for some reason, yoongi ends up telling about his parents and the whys and hows of living homeless, it just spills from him like a hell portal he can’t close once it’s open, he tells all about things he buried, each year another layer of dirt, and how he ends up burying himself too. no one knows about this, yoongi never wanted to share this shit, someone else couldn’t and shouldn’t carry it with him, but taehyung feels like a safe space, not a crutch, but a graveyard in which these things can rest.“so, on the day you met me,”, yoongi looks past taehyung, to the balcony with a nice view, the sky getting darker between buildings. “it was the morning after I tried to silence the shit in my head. I felt like there was no amount of words I could write that would stop it.”taehyung stays silent for some time, and although yoongi feels like he’s about to destroy something really beautiful, he also feels this is fair. it’s fair that taehyung knows, no matter what the suspicions were, now he knows and he can get the fuck out if he wants to. yoongi feels light, free, bare.“I-”, yoongi’s anxiety makes the words slip his throat, “shit is silent with you.”“how so?”“when you’re around, it’s like you’re so loud and so everywhere, nothing else makes a sound.”, yoongi doesn’t know how else to explain it, so he says it the way he feels it and hopes taehyung kind of understands, but also doesn’t, because he can’t even imagine how it is to be loved by someone like him.“yoongi, I-”, taehyung’s eyes shine too brightly, not like the glow that reminds yoongi of water reflecting night skies, the wrong one, the water itself one, but the doorbell rings and both of them jolt in surprise. saved or doomed by the bell, who the fuck knows at this point?🌓the apartment becomes gradually small as people arrive, lots of them, some yoongi recognizes, like jimin and that kid jeongguk, some are yoongi’s own friends, namjoon, hoseok and seokjin, but most of them are strangers, and it’s not surprising, taehyung could charm the whole fucking world if he wanted to.yoongi sneaks in his gift in the middle of the pile, unsigned and discreet enough he hopes taehyung won’t know it’s his. he bought a dress, totally self indulgent, but also sort of supportive, sort of appreciative.“you two are finally together?”, namjoon asks, refilling both their glasses with some more whiskey.“no.”, yoongi shakes his head.“but you told him, right?”“no.”“oh.”, namjoon uses that one tone, the one where he broke something.“what?”“I... oh, yoongi.”“what did you do?”, yoongi has no idea, but he’s suddenly very, very worried, very anxious, fight or flee mode.“I thought- you know taehyung always praises your work...”, namjoon has apologetic eyes, like he’s trying to calm yoongi down before he drops the bomb, “I thought it’d be nice to give him the first version of your new book?”“shit.”and to yoongi’s despair, the wrapping namjoon used was pretty generic and probably lost in the middle of so many others, he couldn’t just rummage through without being seen. yoongi regrets ever thinking publishing it would be a good idea, at the time he thought he might have a chance, that he’d tell, confess, whatever, because he’s just trying to postpone the inevitable here. taehyung would read it eventually and once again yoongi didn’t think things through and consequence would catch up to his stupidity.he thought he had more time.so he does the only thing he knows, what he always does.he leaves.🌗new year’s eve goes by him, fireworks sounding like a slap on his face each. he’s home by himself and it feels like a hole, like he hit rock bottom and the bottom is hitting him back. he ignores all messages, all namjoon’s texts and taehyung’s calls — he can’t deal with the truth, that’s why he’s a writer after all. he’s good at ignoring reality and pretending the shit he’s done never happened. fictionalize himself.he drinks champagne straight out of the bottle, holding the neck like it’s his own. he does it for the drama, laughs to himself spitefully, because he’s simply incapable of suffering without making it poetic somehow.🌙january kicks in, winter harsher than usual, snow piling up on roads and sidewalks uncontrollably. the city is a bit chaotic because of it, but the view sure is pretty, all grey and white.yoongi’s watching the snowflakes feathering down outside his window when there’s a knock on his door loud enough for him to almost fall off the couch.“shit.”, he says to himself, because it doesn’t matter who it is, it’s not good.“yoongi, can you please open the door? I’m kind of freezing out here.”, but it has to be the worst case scenario, it has to be the situation itself coming to confront him. of course.he rushes to the door anyway, above the dread of having to face whatever this is, the worry taehyung is outside in the snow. reckless boy. dumb.“what are you doing here?”, is the first thing he says, making way for wet taehyung to drip all over his living room. “god, you’re soaked.”“yeah, sorry, sorry.”, taehyung murmurs as he takes off his coat and he’s shaking, wrapping his arms around himself, hair glued to his forehead.“what were you thinking?!”, yoongi feels overwhelmed and panicked, his reactions instinctive more than anything else. he grabs taehyung by the hand, locking their fingers firmly together and he drags the boy to his bathroom.“yoongi, I wanted to talk.”“I know.”, yoongi turns on the water for the bathtub, testing the temperature before looking at taehyung briefly. “we can do this after you’re warm and dry.”“okay.”, yoongi hasn’t even noticed how sad taehyung looks, how small he seems, like he’s shrinking in himself, not taking any space at all.“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed and-”, yoongi is turning away to leave, but taehyung’s hand suddenly catches him by the wrist.“stay with me.”, taehyung asks, voice tiny and a little broken, yoongi’s knees feel like giving out.yoongi looks up, trying to summon some strength from whatever source is willing and he takes a deep breath, coming to terms with the fact he’ll have to do this alone. no higher power aiding on his quest. “fine.”, he huffs, body dropping hard on the closed toilet sit.he rests his elbows on his tights and his head on his hands, doesn’t want to invade taehyung’s privacy and as much as it is not the moment for this, he thinks he’s not even ready for an unclothed taehyung. but he hears it, movement and fabric and taehyung’s light breathing, so his mind fills up the rest and suddenly it’s kind of hot in the bathroom, feels too small for the both of them.the water stops running and yoongi hears taehyung entering the bathtub. “how’s the water?”, he decides to ask.“good.”, taehyung’s voice comes from beside him, “you can look, yeah?”yoongi doesn’t really want to, for more than one reason, but he takes his hands off his face anyway and fucking looks.taehyung is sitting on the bathtub, bent knees held together by his arms and chin resting in between, so curled on himself he’s barely on half of the tub. he’s naked, but it kills any desire yoongi thought he might have. he just sees a boy he has to take care of and the realization hits him so hard he wants to throw up, but he kneels by taehyung’s side instead.“let me wash your hair.”, yoongi reaches for the shampoo and taehyung lets him, quietly tilting his head down so yoongi can massage his scalp.“thank you.”, taehyung says only when yoongi starts to rinse it off, soft movements, deliberate and careful.taehyung washes himself silently and just as silently offers the sponge to yoongi, who proceeds to rub his back. taehyung’s skin is soft, golden, yoongi barely breathes while touching him. beautiful even when vulnerable, perhaps more so.“I’ll grab some clothes, okay?”taehyung nods at that and yoongi gets up, inhaling deeply as soon as he’s out of his bathroom, his body hurting from probably how tense he is. he wishes this wasn’t so hard for him, all of this. he wishes love was something he could feel like in the movies, just this once, natural and good and right. if he wasn’t like this, perhaps it would be like that.he places a few options of clothing on the bed, the warmest and most comfortable he could find and ultimately decides against going back to the bathroom and heads to the kitchen to prepare some tea instead — taehyung will manage, yoongi is scared shitless, that’s just how they are.🌓“let’s have the tea in bed. can we?” is taehyung’s request, to which yoongi agrees. they hold hands all the way, parting so they can sit across each other, legs crossed, knees touching.“are you warm?”, yoongi asks, awkwardly holding his cup with both of his hands, it prevents him from touching, fixing the boy’s dump hair. not a fix, really, just removing the strand from his eyes, his bangs are too long.“yes.”, taehyung offers him a shy smile, little twist of lips. “thank you. and thank you for the dress.”“oh. what- how?”“you and jimin are the only people I wear dresses around, see? jimin bought me a ninendo switch, he can’t never keep gifts a secret, so...”, taehyung shrugs, “so you, yeah? and it’s really pretty, would wear it if it wasn’t so cold.”yoongi almost closes his eyes with the pleasant sensation of taehyung’s little ramblings, he missed it, he always misses it. “I didn’t know. can I ask you why? jimin I get, he’s your best friend.”“you’re my best friend too.”, taehyung is quick to say, frowning just a bit when he does it, “I trust you. I’ve seen your weird, so you can see mine.”“wearing dresses is not weird, taehyung.”, yoongi contests, “you look beautiful in them. you look happy. it’s not weird.”“you’re sweet.”“you said that.”, yoongi laughs dryly, then sips on his tea, tries to prepare himself for wherever this conversation is going.“but you are, you’re always sweet to me, yes?”“you don’t deserve any less.”, the words slide off his tongue, raw and unedited, “more, actually.”“do you want to talk? we can, like, not talk.”, taehyung mumbles, looks at his cup intently, “but if you do, then let’s, I’d like to.”“what do you want to talk about?”, yoongi asks as if he doesn’t know, buying some time.“I think, uhm, about your book?”“oh. what about it?”, yoongi takes another sip, and another, drinks the whole thing wishing it was alcoholic.“I read it. twice.”, taehyung clears his throat, faces up, eyes trained on yoongi. “is it about me?”well, shit. “what makes you think that?”“can you- can you please, just this time, answer me directly?”, taehyung’s tone is one yoongi hasn’t heard before, he’s not sure he likes it. it’s not exactly aggressive, but frustrated. “I’m lost here, yoongi. I don’t- I want to know.”“yes.”, yoongi breathes out, “fuck. yes, it is about you. I thought it was a good idea at the time, thought that in between then and now I’d-“, his heart feels crushed inside his chest, makes it hard for him to speak.“since when have you been writing it?”, taehyung seems calmer, though still firm, driven.“about two weeks after we met.”taehyung looks at him like he was just stabbed, pain and surprise painting his expressions. “you mean you’ve been feeling like this... the whole time? all this time?”“I’m sorry.”, there’s nothing more yoongi can say to that. he is sorry. he wishes he didn’t feel this, feel like this.“I’ve been-”, taehyung starts, his voice cracks and he takes a deep breath, placing his and yoongi’s cup on the nightstand, uses his both free hands cup yoongi’s face. “I’ve been patient, yoongi, been giving you space and time and whatever you wanted from me. see, I thought you- shit.”yoongi is frozen in place, his eyes stinging from not blinking and maybe something else, but he holds the other’s gaze with all he’s got, takes comfort and some peace from the warm touch on his cheeks. he doesn’t say anything, afraid his voice would only come out in the form of a scream.“I thought you only kissed me because I wanted you to, so I’d let you because how could I not?”, taehyung half laughs to himself, shaking his head like he’s arguing with his own mind. “and every time I thought you’d let me in, you’d push me away. I came to terms you didn’t want me like that and it would be fine, yeah? you’re my friend, I’m content.”“taehyung-”“let me- please. just, let me.”, yoongi nods at that, more than okay with not talking. he feels like he’s about to implode, like astral fucking projecting, this can’t be really what’s happening, maybe he’s in one of his books. “you’re sweet, make me believe that maybe you, like, like me? then you run away. then you’re sweet again. then I get this fucking book. then you run away again.”“I’m-”, yoongi is about to say he’s sorry again, like the pathetic fuck he is, but mid sentence he decides against it, knows too well it doesn’t change anything. he places a hand on top of one of taehyung’s on his face, hopes it sends the message across.“what you wrote... yoongi, I could love you so much if you’d let me.”, taehyung’s eyes shine so brightly they look like small galaxies, reflecting yoongi’s own.“you-”, yoongi feels suddenly so tired of himself, never wished so much he was someone else, “I’m no good, tae. I’m defective.”taehyung inches his face closer, joins his forehead with yoongi’s, “you’re depressed, but you’re good still, you’re you still. there’s so much more to you than this, yoongi, I’ve seen it, I always see it.”, the boy gasps lowly when yoongi’s hands touch his neck, holding on to it. “you’re kind and funny and so talented, god, you’re so smart and- and you could love me.”“I could.”, yoongi wants to cry, but he swallows it, smiles, relief spreading throughout his whole body. “I do.”“so let me. I let you, yeah? let me.”, taehyung’s breath caresses yoongi’s skin as the boy leans in, brushing their lips ever so lightly.yoongi dares to close the little space left between them, fitting their mouths together the way they did a few times, but not exactly like that, feels different, more intense, loaded with the truth they admitted to each other, no holding back be it by fear or by uncertainty. yoongi has many questions, but he figures they’ll have to answer them together some other time. right now, he just wants this, this boy, for as long as he can have him.🌙taehyung licks yoongi’s mouth, who locks their tongues together and he takes his time exploring. all the little sounds taehyung makes are engraved in yoongi’s memory, stored for later.yoongi holds taehyung by the waist, doesn’t even notice how he pulls and pulls, wanting the boy as close and he can get. taehyung seems to get it, maybe wants the same, because he straddles yoongi’s tights, sitting on his lap, arms around his neck, also pulling — yoongi feels like they just want to become one single body, no room for anything else but themselves.yoongi pulls away to breathe with intentions to go back and kiss the life out of taehyung, but the younger mouths yoongi’s jawline in no time, distributing open mouthed kisses, tracing a path down to his neck. yoongi tilts his head back, permissive and welcoming, his stomach burning hotter each time taehyung’s lips caress his skin. he gasps when taehyung decides to bite, lightly, carefully, like a test, but it just feels like teasing to yoongi.“oh?”, yoongi can feel taehyung’s smirk on his neck.“uh- yeah.”, yoongi murmurs idiotically, already overwhelmed and maybe realizing he won’t make it until tomorrow.taehyung bites again, stronger this time, sharp teeth almost breaking the skin, and yoongi can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. he slides his hands up to the other’s hair, burying his fingers inside the brown strands, just holding on to something.“pull.”, taehyung whispers against his neck and yoongi is now absolutely fucking sure he won’t even make it until the end of the night.“fuck.”, he says, but he does pull, pulls hard enough taehyung’s head leans backwards, exposing his neck in all its glory. “fuck.”, yoongi repeats, because that’s the only more or less coherent thing he can say right now. he shuts himself up by occupying his mouth with the boy’s golden skin.“do you-”, taehyung’s words turn into a groan when yoongi decides to bite too, scraping his teeth along the lines of taehyung’s collarbones.“do I what?”, yoongi asks, lets go of the other’s hair to place a hand on his waist, the other on his tight, just resting there. he wants to be sure. he needs to be sure. he can’t do this if taehyung’s not sure.“yoongi. look at me, please.”, taehyung’s voice is raspy, but tender. yoongi does as he’s told. “you’re beautiful, yeah? I want you. do you want me?”“y-yes.”, yoongi swallows hard, his lips and throat dry, but he tightens the grasp of his fingers if his answer wasn’t clear enough.“then...”, taehyung kisses him again, harder this time, clashes their open mouths together and it becomes sloppy and messy real quick.taehyung holds yoongi’s hands by the wrists, maneuvering both until they’re palming his ass and yoongi sucks a breath between his teeth, “shit.”, he grunts as he massages the cheeks, pulling them apart and then back together.“like it?”, taehyung’s lips are on yoongi’s ear, nibbling at the earlobe and it sends intense shivers down his spine. yoongi is sure taehyung can feel him growing hard inside his pants, because the younger starts swaying his hips slowly, pressing down just slightly.“yeah. yeah- tae-”, yoongi claws at the boy’s ass, feels the movement beneath his palms, friction not nearly enough.taehyung pulls apart just a few inches, sitting straight on yoongi’s lap, who’s about to ask what’s wrong, but taehyung’s pink, swollen, shiny and sinful lips gift him a half bitten smirk. the younger pulls up his t-shirt by the collar, throwing the fabric carelessly behind him and yoongi’s mind just sort of blanks with the sight.“oh.”, he mumbles dumbly, scanning taehyung’s naked torso, soft and tanned and beautiful. “can I?”“cute.”, taehyung giggles coyly, cheeks a pretty shade of pink, “yes, whatever you want.”yoongi snakes his hands up the other’s back and he leans forward, his mouth peppering kisses all over taehyung’s chest, who squirms giddily on his lap.“ah- ah- oh my god,” taehyung breathes out bashfully when yoongi starts licking his nipple, feeling it perking up under his tongue. “yes, yes.”yoongi’s confidence gradually increases with the boy’s reactions, so he feels bold enough to suck taehyung’s nipple, trapping it between his teeth lightly, working his tongue on it simultaneously. he slides his hands down the younger’s back, light scrape of nails, and hovers them above the waistband of the borrowed slacks.“want me out of these? I want me out of these.”, taehyung says a bit breathlessly, leaves a few kisses on yoongi’s chin before getting off of his lap and up. “can I see you too?”yoongi, of course, never thinks that much far ahead. “uhm.”, he swallows dry.“hey, it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable.”, taehyung reassures, takes off the sweatpants he’s wearing, pulling them from his feet. “but know that I want to see you, yeah? I’ll think you’re gorgeous regardless.”and it doesn’t make any fucking sense, taehyung saying this while looking like that. his tights are enough to make yoongi’s mind a bit foggy, it’s not fair at all. “I-”, yoongi licks his lips, “okay.”“I’ll cover my eyes, okay?”, taehyung kneels on the bed, only in his boxer underwear and yoongi feels like passing out, because holy shit. holy shit. the boy covers his eyes with his hands and yoongi has time to silently moan and curse to himself.there’s no one- no, there’s absolutely fucking nothing more beautiful than taehyung. and yoongi has to have some real steel balls to show himself in front of him and it’s not even because he’s comparing himself, it’s just not fair, not logical, like gods and humans.yoongi takes a deep breath and quickly, before he changes his damn mind, pulls his hoodie and his t-shirt over his head, throwing them on the floor. another deep breath and he takes off his sweatpants and socks only to realize he isn’t wearing any underwear like the stupid fuck he is.he flops down on the mattress, covering his face with his arms, feeling too exposed and too small and too ugly, unworthy. he tries to cover himself with himself and it doesn’t even make sense, but he might as well try this — taehyung said he’ll find yoongi gorgeous regardless, so these are the words he’s hanging on to, the ones that makes him say “you can look.”“oh.”, he hears taehyung murmur under his breath. “oh.”yoongi doesn’t dare to look yet, hiding his face in his arms, because he just can’t take the possibility that taehyung’s reaction is one of disgust.“you’re-”, the boy stutters, and there’s movement on the mattress, “yoongi, can you look at me?”yoongi bites down his lower lip and lifts up his arms, surprised to see taehyung closer, sitting beside him. his eyes are darker, like his pupils are blown wide, feral, but tamed. yoongi never felt like a prey before.“you’re fucking beautiful, want you s’much.”, taehyung says, warm tone contradicting the hunger in his eyes, “w-want to make you feel good.”if there’s anyone who can, it’s taehyung. yoongi jolts when taehyung touches him, fingers tracing paths on his chest and abdomen, like letters yoongi can’t figure out. “yes.”, he whispers, relaxing his body for once, “make me feel good, tae, always.”too good. scares the living shit out of yoongi. so good it’s almost unbearable.taehyung shifts around, kneeling between yoongi’s legs, arms on the sides of his head and leans down to kiss him, open mouthed and devouring. yoongi gives in, as if it was possible not to, lets his hands touch wherever they reach. his naked skin burns underneath taehyung’s and he tries to feel everything, everywhere they’re touching, every bridge their bodies are building.yoongi arches his back as taehyung starts mouthing his chest, belly and making his way down with what feels like adoration. his cock twitches when taehyung’s lips get dangerously closer, already hard, the pathetic thing.taehyung palms his cock carefully, mouth hovering it and as much as yoongi wants to shut his eyes, he just can’t take them off the younger.“you tell me, yeah?”, taehyung asks, warm breath breezing on yoongi’s sensitive skin, fingers playing with the head of his cock.“yeah, baby, yeah, I’ll tell you.”, yoongi doesn’t even notice, how easily the word, pet name, loving vocabulary, comes out of his mouth.“m’your baby?”, taehyung flattens his tongue, licks a fat stripe from base to tip, “say it again.”“you’re my baby- shit.”, the sentence ends with a groan, guttural, when the younger takes a full hold of yoongi’s cock, kissing the slit teasingly, “c’mon, baby, c’mon.”taehyung doesn’t hesitate, slowly spreads his lips around yoongi’s length, swallowing it down to where his hand is.“holy fuck.”, yoongi throws his head back, hands flying straight to taehyung’s hair.the younger nods, then starts bobbing his head, the perfect rhythm, not too fast, not too slow, just right. yoongi tries his very best not to buck his hips, focus on keeping taehyung’s bangs out of his face, but when the boy starts licking along the veins of yoongi’s length, he can’t help but pull a fistful of hair.taehyung moans on his cock, his deep voice sending waves of vibration all around yoongi. “fuck.”, he growls, voice scratching his throat and he dares to look down, at taehyung, whose movements now are concentrated on the head of yoongi’s cock, sucking the gland while pressing the tongue on the slit and it’s too much. kid knows what he’s doing and yoongi is losing his damn mind. he gives taehyung’s hair a light tug, then a stronger one when the younger doesn’t stop.taehyung pulls out with a loud pop, still holding yoongi’s cock in his hand, then looks up, lips red and slick with spit and precome, eyes glassy and hair a mess - the sight itself would be enough for yoongi to come right then and there. “y-you made me stop?”, taehyung pouts.“didn’t want to come, was really close.”, yoongi says apologetically, because it is quite embarrassing how little he could take, “didn’t even touch you yet.”“oh.”, taehyung smiles coyly, cheeks flushed. he leaves a few pecks on yoongi’s cock before letting it go and sitting on his knees. “where do you want to touch me, yoongi?”everywhere, yoongi thinks. “wherever you want me to.”, he says instead, uncertain as to where this is going.taehyung huffs a soft giggle, “you know what I’m asking.”“I know.”, yoongi extends a hand at taehyung’s direction, pulling the younger to lie on top of him, both chuckling lowly. “doesn’t change my answer.”yoongi peppers kisses on taehyung’s neck and jawline, hands feeling the skin of the other’s waist and back. taehyung tilts his head so he can fit their lips together, deepening gradually.taehyung starts moving his hips, swaying them slowly, his covered cock against yoongi’s bare one. “want you to f-finger me.”, the younger murmurs breathlessly.“oh?”, yoongi bites taehyung’s lower lip, sucking it between his. “can do that.”yoongi snakes his hands down to the younger’s small back, plays a bit with the elastic band of his underwear, then slides it down and out with taehyung’s help, both now completely naked.“have some lube and condom there. first drawer.”, yoongi says, gesturing to the nightstand.taehyung stretches his arm and upper body, giggling loudly when yoongi grabs two handfuls of his ass. “here, love.”, he says, handing the small bottle to yoongi.yoongi gives each cheek a light smack before grabbing the lube and clicking the cap open. “you sure, baby?”“yes, yes, want it. you.”, taehyung nods, places both hands on yoongi’s chest and a kiss on his cheek, sweet and reassuring.yoongi takes a deep breath and pours a generous amount of the gel on his hand, warming it up between his fingers, then maneuvers his hand so it’s in between taehyung’s ass cheeks. his free hand cups the younger’s face, bringing it closer so they can look at each other properly. taehyung leans in to the touch, rubs his nose against yoongi’s and gives him a nod, a sign to keep going.yoongi obliges, index finger massaging the rim of taehyung’s entrance, patting the muscle before inserting it slowly. the younger sucks in a breath, moaning lowly when yoongi’s finger is all the way in, then out and in again.“another, please.”, taehyung mumbles, hips moving so their lengths can get some friction.yoongi growls and adds a second finger, same process and taehyung is so tight, feels so good around his fingers, his cock throbs with the thought of having taehyung around it. “good?”“y-yes.”, the younger manages, hiding his face on yoongi’s neck.yoongi starts scissoring his fingers inside, changing angles constantly until taehyung shivers on top of him. “mmm- god, right there, right there.”he found taehyung’s prostate, so he massages the spot with both fingers while inserting a third.taehyung takes yoongi’s breath away, cheeks and chest flushed a pretty shade of pink, starry eyes and parted lips, wrecked already, yoongi’s doing. “you’re beautiful, taehyung.”, he decides to voice it.“m’yours.”, taehyung rambles, words slurring, “r-ride you.”“what’s that, baby?”, yoongi questions although he heard it pretty well, just wants him to say it again.“hmm, said I want to ride you.”, the younger repeats.yoongi shivers, because there’s sex and then there’s sex with taehyung. it doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel just. he hums, adjusts himself so his back is against the headboard. “c’mere, then.”taehyung, beautiful and hungry, crawls at yoongi’s direction and climbs him, hands on his shoulders for support, knees beside his legs.yoongi grins and holds the other by the waist, two hands planted firmly there, distributes kisses throughout his chest and collarbones. yoongi watches taehyung rip the condom package and groans when the younger rolls it down his cock. he’s not ready, thinks nobody is ready, there’s no such thing as ready when taehyung’s glorious body is sinking down, head tilted back and a focused frown. yoongi doesn’t move, barely breathes, his whole body burns.“wow.”, taehyung exasperates when fully sat, “wow.”yoongi’s eyes roll back, he bites down his lower lip to the point he feels the skin breaking under his teeth, it takes everything he has not to come right then and there, not to buck his hips up, because it’s tight and warm and it’s taehyung.“you’re big.”, taehyung states with glassy, dreamy eyes, hands coming down at yoongi’s chest. “w-will move now.”taehyung lifts his hips, then sinks back down in a slow but heavenly pace. yoongi leans forward, hands traveling the younger’s body until he rests one in between taehyung’s shoulder blades and the other on his hipbone, just feeling the movement underneath his palm.“you feel so good, tae.”, yoongi groans against taehyung’s chest.yoongi looks up and taehyung kisses him, or sort of, they just moan in each other’s mouths, their gazes locked as taehyung moves faster.“fill me up so good.”, taehyung mumbles, “so full, so full-“taehyung’s skin shines with sweat, hot and flushed against yoongi’s, who now bucks hips up, thrusting inside taehyung, meeting him halfway in a merciless rhythm.“f-fuck-“, yoongi groans, stomach burning with the pleasure, building up inside him like a fucking bomb. “tae- baby.”taehyung arches his back and yoongi follows him, resting his forehead on the other’s chest, feeling fingers on his hair, pulling hard. he moves his hand to taehyung’s cock, pumping him in a pace that meets his thrusts.“oh - oh my god, yoongi, I-“, taehyung’s sentence is cut off by a moan. yoongi wants the sound tattooed in his mind. “m’coming.”“me too, baby.”, yoongi manages to say and their previously synchronized movements now become erratic.taehyung comes first between their bodies, splattering on their abdomens and yoongi wished he could see, see taehyung’s expression, see their pleasure tinted skins, but he starts seeing stars too soon. then it’s all white. his whole body shivers hard as he comes inside the younger.“holy shit.”, is the first thing taehyung says, “that was-”yoongi nods and hums, laying down and dragging taehyung with him. he tries to say something, like shower later sleep now, but it only comes out in slurred incoherent grunts.“yeah. okay.”, the younger giggles weakly and places a kiss on his chin, somehow understanding him.somehow understanding him.🌓one day, they’re lying on the couch, squeezed together underneath a heavy blanket watching some really bad romcom when taehyung rests his chin on yoongi’s shoulder and asks, “hey, do you wanna go ice skating?”yoongi scoffs, but turns his face so their cheeks are against each other. “never ice skated.”“we can do that now.”“what? now?”, yoongi raises a questioning eyebrow.“yeah. let’s go.”, taehyung is pushing yoongi off the couch, who grunts a complaint.but they go. they ice skate together, holding hands so yoongi doesn’t fall, even though he does fall a lot of times — it makes taehyung laugh loudly and beautifully, so yoongi keeps doing it. falling again and again.one day, they’re grocery shopping, something yoongi always did online, but taehyung insisted going to the supermarket was a magical thing, one of his favorite things in the world he said, all the colors and unnecessary things capitalism can offer.“always wanted to do a picnic.”, taehyung says while grabbing a bag of sweet potato chips, “like in the movies.”yoongi bites down his lower lip, doesn’t say anything at that moment, but he picks stuff he believes fit in a picnic. maybe. he also never did one, never felt any desire to until now.next morning, he wakes taehyung up with kisses on his cheeks, getting a grumpy whine as a response.“morning.”, yoongi whispers against the other’s cheekbone.“morning, love.”, the younger’s deep voice even deeper murmurs.“let’s go to a picnic.”taehyung’s eyes shine so brightly they look like stars, spotlights aimed at yoongi like he’s something good, worthy of that look. “really? do you mean it? today? as in right now?”“yeah, right now.”, yoongi can’t help but smile wide, endeared and in love beyond the descriptions of literature.“do you- no, nevermind.”, taehyung hides his face on the curve of yoongi’s neck.“tell me.”, yoongi holds the younger in his arms. “c’mon. tell me.”“oh, it’s silly.”“I like silly things.”taehyung sighs, then lifts his head so he can look at yoongi and after chewing on his cheek a few times, he decides to spill it out, “do you think I can go wearing a dress? I think it’s warm enough. the one you gave me, yeah?”yoongi beams at the younger, “of course you can, baby, you look so damn good in them.”, he states firmly, cackles at the blush in taehyung’s cheeks, “put that jeans jacket on top of it.”“your jeans jacket and a red scarf!”, taehyung is suddenly up, clapping excitedly, “you’re the best, yeah?”“and a red scarf.”, yoongi mumbles as he watches the other dance his way to the bathroom, thinks he’s doomed. saved. all at once.“shower with me?”“if I ever say no to that, kill me.”, yoongi says and they both laugh heartily.one day, yoongi is reading in his office, the only off limits room in his house — no one has ever been there. not even namjoon, which isn’t really fair but yoongi is not a fair person at all, so there’s that, and namjoon never asked to see, to enter, being the fair person he is. yoongi places, maybe too much, value on privacy and having something of his own, not shareable, like much of himself.taehyung was on a business meeting, something about a new gallery, about having his pictures auditioned. something yoongi should be excited about, proud of, looking forward to.he leaves the office to fetch some more tea, not whiskey how he used to and for some reason doesn’t feel like anymore for weeks and hears the front door opening on his way.“yoongi! yoongi, yoongi!”, taehyung shrugs off his coat, jogging in yoongi’s direction and he barely has time to place his cup somewhere safe before the younger jumps in his arms.“hey, you’re back early.”, yoongi smiles, inhales the sweet scent coming from the other’s hair and hugs tighter.“yeah, yeah, was quick, they already knew what they wanted and it was me and they thought I needed convincing? so silly.”, taehyung rambles excitedly, fixing his tussled hair when he steps back, looking at yoongi with gleaming eyes. “so my pictures? first gallery exhibit and audition? I’m happy.”“so I’m happy.”, yoongi says and it feels foreign in his tongue, a word from some other language he probably never learned.“are you?”, taehyung’s tone suddenly drops an octave, “are you happy, yoongi?”“yes.”, he answers immediately, because there’s no doubt that, at that moment, right then, he’s happy. the realization kinda makes him want to cry, his heart aching a different kind of ache. “I’m so fucking happy.”taehyung smiles his sweet one, leans closer so he can kiss yoongi on the forehead, yoongi kisses him on the chin, little ritual of theirs.“I’m so happy I don’t know what to do with it, tae. I have no idea how to feel happy.”, yoongi lets out, thought and speech with no walls left in between.“come with me to the exhibit ceremony?”“okay.”, yoongi nods, sniffs the threat of tears away, “come read with me?”“in your off limits no trespassing only geniuses allowed office?”, taehyung teases with a light giggle, but his eyes squint like he’s not really buying the invitation.“yes.”, yoongi cackles, “that one.”“can you sit on my lap while you read?”yoongi rolls his eyes, but nods.“then okay.”one day, yoongi notices a pile of taehyung’s clothes on a chair in his room and decides to open a space in his wardrobe. a corner for taehyung.there are two toothbrushes on his sink, strawberry soap and pine lotion and every room of his home has a bit of taehyung in it. every room in himself has a bit of taehyung in it. so he opens a space, a corner for taehyung.one day, yoongi realizes he never wanted to live so much as he does now. wake up to see what taehyung has in store for him, what kind of new experiences the boy wants him to try, what else is beautiful in this world that taehyung knows about and wants to show yoongi. and it’s easier to wish for an end, because ends are inevitable, they always come and they’re the easiest to write, every story needs one. but to keep going, to wish and work for it to keep going, that shit’s tough.“love.”, taehyung calls him from across the table, pulling him back to wherever fucked up mind space he was in his little mind palace.“hm? sorry, spaced out.”, yoongi shakes his head, faces his unfinished lunch, forgot it was there completely.“it’s fine, yeah? you do that, I like your face when you do that.”, the younger grins, lips somehow sinfully sipping on the straw of his drink. he always uses a straw, yoongi never asked, just bought him a stainless steel one, for environment shit. “I wanted to ask you something. it’s a hard question, deep stuff.”when is it not? yoongi’s stuff is always deep. no basicness in him whatsoever. so “shoot.”, he shrugs, more or less ready for this.“can you-”, taehyung interrupts himself, probably looking for words to use, how to phrase what he wants to know. he clears his throat, places a hand on top of yoongi’s. “tell me about your mind.”oh. yoongi expected questions about this, not that expecting made him any more ready to answer, but he figures the time has come, so he intertwines their fingers together and inhales and exhales deeply. “I had depression since I was a teenager. still do. anxiety, social and not social. and insomnia.”taehyung nods, eyes trained on yoongi but his mind is somewhere else, here and not here. yoongi knows what he’s about to ask and he’s been thinking about that himself. so instead of leaving room for the younger to speak, he keeps going, “and I’ve tried everything. meds, therapy, fucking meditation. nothing really worked.”, he doesn’t add the fact he’s been feeling better, so much better, ever since he met taehyung, cause while it’s true, it’s not right. it’s no cure.“could you try again?”, taehyung licks his lips, eyebrows raised in an expression really hard to resist, to say no to.“I could.”, yoongi answers honestly, because he could. the desire to get better is there, completely new and unheard of before. he feels like he needs to, so he can give himself the way he wants to, so he can love taehyung the right way.“okay. I’ll be by your side, yeah?”, taehyung reassures, leaning over the table to fit his lips on yoongi’s, “I’ll be next to you all the way.”and that is basically everything yoongi needed to hear. he can do this. he thinks how proud and content namjoon would be, how warm and tight hoseok’s hug would be, how tears of joy would stain seokjin’s perfect face. he laughs to himself, because this boy really is something else. invading fucked up people’s lives, making them realize falling in love with him will actually save them from themselves. that’s a superpower alright.one day, spring day, they’re walking tannie in the park alongside each other, holding hands as if they’ll fly loose if they let go. they talk about mild things, like taehyung thinking yoongi needs more flowers in the house, says they bring good energy, like how’s yoongi therapy is going and it’s going pretty well. his therapist is a nice woman, very chill, very unimpressed with yoongi’s shit, harsh and kind in the right times. like how that cloud looks like a lion eating a banana. yoongi sees it too.“want to head back to my place? can cook some chicken nuggets, dinosaur ones, real gourmet shit.”, taehyung suggests, petting tannie, who politely sat between their feet.“only if I can have all the t-rex.”, yoongi bumps his shoulder on the younger’s, grins how he has done a lot for some time now, all gummy like he used to hate but now doesn’t mind at all.“I like the stegosaurus, so it’s fine.”, taehyung shrugs, bumps his shoulder back.“we should get ice cream first.”, yoongi makes his point by gesturing to the ice cream truck only a block away from them.“oh my god, I love you.”, taehyung just says. just like that. doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t stutter, doesn’t make a big deal out of it like he knew this already, all along, just forgot to say it out loud.yoongi freezes like the fucking ice cream he suggested, color vanished or all in his face, he can’t feel anything but gravity, trying to pull his heart through his feet. that was the first time taehyung moved from could to love and yoongi thinks the younger didn’t even realized he said it with so much genuineness, so much truth, the way he’d say if he’d already done it a thousand times, like it was a settled, certain, thing between them.it wasn’t, but yoongi thinks it could be. should be. he doesn’t get the chance to say it back, figures taehyung wasn’t expecting him to — yoongi has his time, takes long to be ready for shit, but it’s not that, he thinks, it’s just the way taehyung is, giving and not expecting, said it cause it’s true, cause it’s his to give, so he gave it, doesn’t care if yoongi is ready to hear it or say it back.yoongi files this moment in his mind, a folder of happy memories that was kinda empty before taehyung, childhood type of shit, no teenager type of shit, but it has lots of boxy smiles now, lots of messy brown hair and uneven shaped sweet brown eyes now.one day, yoongi is writing his new novel, much different from the previous one, a romance, real romance, some pride and prejudice stuff. his office has now some baneberries, some hyacinths, some snapdragons. yoongi chose them because of the names, taehyung because of the colors. it only made sense.he hears a light knock on the door, even though he told the younger he didn't have to.“come in.”, he says, already closing his notebook, inspiration comes when taehyung does.“hi, handsome.”, taehyung reveals himself from behind the door, closing it as he goes through. “brought you coffee.”warmer weather means less clothed taehyung, means to yoongi a heart attack per day, today being no different. taehyung is wearing nothing but a oversized t-shirt and his boxer underwear, toned golden legs bare and yoongi gulps, no such thing as growing accustomed.“thank you.”, he manages to say with a dry mouth, places the mug on his desk and focus his attention on the boy standing in front of him. “what are you up to today?”taehyung rests his chin on his hand, fingers tracing his lips and he pouts, “nothing, m’done with my boring stuff. can we kiss?”“was really looking forward for that coffee.”, yoongi teases and delights in the long whine taehyung lets out.“but the coffee was just an excuse.”, the younger drags the syllabus childishly. “for kisses.”yoongi chuckles and nods, gestures to the loveseat. “alright, let’s kiss.”taehyung beams at him, dropping his body on the cushion and patting his legs, then making grabby hands, “c’mere, c’mere.”yoongi’s in a good mood, it’s one of those days — the kind he used to have very sporadically, now more often. he lies on the sofa, back against the armrest and pulls taehyung on top of him, legs entangled, coffee forgotten.“someone’s in a good mood.”, taehyung states with a giddy smile. of course he knows. the younger rubs his nose on yoongi’s and leaves a light peck on his lips. “give me a happy thought.”yoongi hums, kisses taehyung quickly, solely because he can, holding the younger in his arms, a big boy, so tall and broad, but always feel so small like this. “I thought you wanted to kiss.”, yoongi teases, pinching the sides of the younger, who lets escape a high pitched giggle.“yes, but I also want a happy thought. then kiss lots, yeah?”, taehyung argues with a pout, which yoongi sucks between his lips before nodding.“greedy little thing.”, he says, but starts digging in his mind for what taehyung is asking, because he can’t say no. doesn’t even want to. “your voice makes me happy.”it wasn’t a hard thing to think, because things like these, taehyung things, they’re usually on the very surface of yoongi’s mind. always there, a corner becoming a room.taehyung giggles, then leans forward, hovering his lips close to yoongi’s right ear, “what else, love?”, and it sends a shiver so hard down yoongi’s spine he squirms a little.“shit.”, he huffs involuntarily because the younger’s voice does have an effect on yoongi, in more than one place. “your moles.”taehyung faces him now, a squint in his eyes and an eyebrow raised. “my moles?”“yeah. this one.”, yoongi kisses the tip of taehyung’s nose, “and this one.”, he kisses the lower lip.“oh.”, a blush spreads across taehyung’s cheeks as he licks his lips. “I think I want that kiss now.”“fucking finally.”, yoongi says as he cuts taehyung’s laugh short fitting their mouths together.they kiss lazily for what feels like an eternity and yoongi realizes he wouldn’t really mind spending forever with their lips gliding against each other, tasting home and safety and belonging, coffees and everything else completely forgotten.yoongi rests his hands on taehyung’s small back, drawing circles with his fingers, following the lines the younger’s body makes, wants to memorize them and also not, maybe the surprise will always be worth it.“you’re thinking.”, taehyung murmurs against his lips.“you told me to think.”, yoongi chuckles, because he’s not sorry at all. “you’re a lot to think about.”taehyung grinds down his hips and whatever the motive was behind the gesture, it does make yoongi’s mind go blank. “how about now?”“still thinking.”, yoongi lies, smug tone lost in a growl.taehyung does it again, more firmly and definitely with a purpose. he licks yoongi’s lips, sucks the lower one between his and yoongi is sure he’ll never get used to be wanted by a man like taehyung.the younger starts mouthing yoongi’s chin, jawline and neck, nibbling at the skin, joined hips swaying in a rhythm now. yoongi allows his hands to travel down, then inside taehyung’s oversized t-shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin under his fingers.taehyung kisses him again, eager and in control, and it’s messy, but yoongi wouldn’t have it any other way. he lets taehyung do what he wants with him, and that’s the type of trust he never imagined possible to place in someone.yoongi moans bashfully inside taehyung’s mouth when the younger drags a hand between them, palming yoongi’s hardening cock and he’s sure is not the time, but he realizes he’s here, in this safe space, underneath taehyung and his crushing love and it’s a bit overwhelming, but he wants so much to give himself, to surrender, to let this beautiful unique boy do what he pleases and what pleases him.“taehyung.”, yoongi calls with a broken voice, more serious than intended. taehyung removes his hand immediately, concern painting his brown eyes.“hey, what’s wrong?”, and his tone is so sweet, so genuine, yoongi has to close his eyes for a minute.“nothing’s wrong.”, he shakes his head, trying his best at a reassuring smile. “I want-“, and he’s not really good at this. giving himself. doesn’t know how to voice shit, ask for anything.“what do you want, kitten?”, taehyung cups his cheek and as much as the pet name takes some getting used to, yoongi leans in to the touch and purrs. the low giggle from the other makes it okay.“take me.”, is how yoongi phrases it, because that’s more or less the word for it, if there’s one for what he’s asking. “take me, taehyung.”taehyung’s eyes widen, mouth falls open like his jaw is too heavy. it takes him some time to perhaps process what yoongi is implying, but when he does, his expression is both gentle and nervous, fingers caressing yoongi’s cheek, removing a strand of hair from his face.“are you sure, yoongi?”, taehyung asks, voice heavy with understanding about what this means.yoongi carefully pushes taehyung off of him and once he’s free, he stands up and nods, then nods again because he’s not scared at all and that is exhilarating. he starts to take off his clothes, piece by piece while taehyung quietly watches. once yoongi is completely naked, he lies down again, not hiding, not shrinking, eye contact firm. he’s fucking sure.“holy shit.”, taehyung finally exclaims, hand over his own heart like it hurts, but in a good way, because he’s grinning hungrily. “you’re so beautiful.”“you’re so dressed.”, yoongi knows his face is getting warmer with the praise, but he’s learning to accept it, to not deny it.after a minute of staring, taehyung is swift in his movements, pulling the t-shirt by the collar and throwing it somewhere behind him, same with his boxer underwear. the younger immediately goes back on top of yoongi, the skin on skin contact making both shiver.yoongi arches his back so he can reach behind him, on the top of his desk, for the hand cream and he hands the bottle to taehyung. “this will do.”“fucking surreal.”, taehyung murmurs under his breath and it seems to be more to himself than to yoongi. “just- oh my god.”, he keeps rambling as he warms the liquid between his fingers.yoongi’s heart is beating everywhere in his body, but like a sixth sense taehyung developed in the last months, knows exactly what to do and that is kissing yoongi slowly and thoroughly, is breathing together and locking eyes, is caressing yoongi’s face while a hand gets between his parted tights.“okay?”, taehyung inquires one more time.“okay.”, yoongi nods.his breath hitches when taehyung inserts one finger in his entrance ever so carefully. yoongi holds himself with both hands on taehyung’s biceps and once he gets used to the intrusion and feels less invasive and more good, he murmurs, “another.”taehyung looks concentrated, eyebrows knitted together in a deep frown, lips a tight line, yoongi never saw him like this, but the younger does as he’s told, inserting another finger and twisting his knuckle a little bit.“feels good, baby.”, yoongi huffs between his teeth, sinking them in the skin of taehyung’s shoulder when the younger starts scissoring his fingers.and yoongi knows he’s bruising the boy with bites and scratches, but he also knows taehyung wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t capable of handling a little pain.“fucking- shit. fuck.”, yoongi wraps his legs around taehyung’s waist and pulls him for a kiss that’s not really a kiss, because he can only moan inside the other’s mouth as he hits yoongi’s prostate with his fingers.“so tight, yoongi.”, taehyung sends the sound of his raspy voice straight to yoongi’s cock, throbbing and neglected, but he can’t even focus on that right now. feels like if it was touched, he would just explode.taehyung joins their foreheads together, his free hand on the side of yoongi’s head, on the armrest, for support. yoongi palms the younger’s bicep, biting down his lip with the firmness he’s found there. “tae, please-“, he’s not sure what he’s asking, if it’s for more or less, but he trusts taehyung will know what he means even if he himself doesn’t.the younger expands the space between his fingers instead of adding another — if they know each other well enough, like yoongi is sure they by now do, that means taehyung doesn’t want it to hurt, but is aware yoongi needs it to, just a little bit. nothing can ever be easy with yoongi, nothing can ever go smooth. they know. taehyung knows.yoongi hooks his arms around taehyung’s neck, trying to get closer, the younger’s chest glued to his, panting breaths somehow synchronized. that’s when yoongi decides it’s more he wants. “s’enough, baby.”, he somehow manages to murmur coherently.“shit- right. yeah, I’ll-”, taehyung mumbles, lost somewhere in that beautiful mind of his and pulls his fingers out slowly, wiping them out on his own shirt. considerate, well mannered boy. yoongi feels empty now, hole clenching around nothing and he notices taehyung licking his lips with the sight. “we don’t have a condom? should I go and grab one in the room? I can go an-”he’s nervous rambling, taehyung, doesn’t happen often, so this must be wrecking his nerves beyond yoongi’s imagination, but he only laughs and caresses taehyung’s cheek. “no need.”“no need?”, the younger repeats with a confused expression, puppy like. “I mean, I’m clean and no one else, yeah? no one else, yoongi. no one else.”“no one else, tae.”, yoongi nods and pulls taehyung on fully on top of himself, groaning with the weight, but happy with the sensation. “fuck me.”“I’m gonna die.”, taehyung states with a giggle, rubbing their noses together, leaving a kiss on yoongi’s lips and both take a deep, deep breath. “okay, I- okay.”taehyung pumps some more of that hand cream on his fingers, squeezing them between their bodies and rubs the liquid on his cock, aligning it with yoongi’s entrance. he glances a final question, to which yoongi answers with a reassuring smile, back to holding the boy by the neck with both arms.taehyung slips in slowly and yoongi shuts his eyes involuntarily. it’s not as strange as he remembers it being, not as intrusive and not nearly as uncomfortable. it’s just... good. overwhelming and emotional for some fucking reason.“are you okay, love?”, taehyung asks, voice strained and heavy breathing. and it’s not that he’s trying to keep calm, yoongi realizes, it’s just that he thinks this isn’t about him.it’s all about him. “yes. you can move.”, yoongi murmurs, a lump in his throat cracking his voice. he’s not going to last long, which happens shamefully often now — he doesn’t blame himself, though, because who could?taehyung swallows hard, then leaves a trembling kiss on yoongi’s forehead. he moves as he’s told, pulling out until only the head is inside, then in until he bottoms out. yoongi moans bashfully, because shit, it feels too good, too intimate, too deep. taehyung repeats the motion a few times in a precise rhythm, then starts trying some new angles, aiming for yoongi’s prostate.yoongi hands claws their way to taehyung’s small back, for a moment just feeling the boy’s hips movements beneath his palms, but then he presses hard, maybe too hard, on the skin. taehyung found the spot he was looking for and yoongi sees stars.“fuck. fuck. fuck.”, yoongi repeats like this is all his vocabulary consists of. taehyung presses his body down as he thrusts, giving yoongi’s cock just enough friction to be unbearable.“you feel too good. I- I don’t think I’ll- sorry.”, the boy mumbles under ragged breath, sweat gluing his too long bangs to his forehead, eyes cloudy with something yoongi now recognizes as love. “s’too much.”“hold me.”, yoongi suddenly pleads, voicing the only thing that’s on his mind. “please, hold me.”taehyung eyes him for a splint second, then with some heaven sent courage and energy, slips both his arms under yoongi’s body and lifts him up, holding him tight against the younger’s chest.“harder.”, yoongi says, “not- the fuck. the hold. hold me harder.”seems difficult, like yoongi is giving the boy a hard time, making him thrust up and embrace him and giving him all that he’s asking and it’s a lot, he’s asking a lot, but he’s giving a lot too, so they should both take it.taehyung holds him tighter then, arms squeezing yoongi’s body close and closer and if it was possible to melt into the other, yoongi would. he holds taehyung back, hides his face in the crook of his neck and starts moving too, meeting the younger’s thrust half way. the new angle is definitely too much and taehyung whispering raspy, deep sweet nothings isn’t helping.taehyung comes first, filling yoongi up thick and hot and that’s a first. he wouldn’t let anyone else do this to him. he won’t. it’s taehyung’s now. just like everything else. yoongi moans loudly against the boy’s skin, bites down when the later doesn’t stop, but instead lays kisses on his cheeks and slides his hand to his cock, pumping it at the same pace as his thrusts.yoongi wants to cry. so he does. a couple of tears staining the younger’s golden skin and he decides not to hold back anything, if that’s the meaning of giving.“I love you.”, he says as he comes between their bodies. “I love you.”🌓“I love you too.”, taehyung replies after a long time. after he gently cleans yoongi’s stomach and tights, then not so gently cleans himself. after the covers are around their joined bodies, uncertain who’s holding who.“it’s not gonna be easy, you know.”, yoongi feels like smoking a cigarette, but is surprisingly content by just smelling the younger’s hair. “none of this.”“knew that already.”, taehyung shrugs, “knew that from the start. not into easy stuff, yeah?”“s’not a challenge.”, yoongi grins against brown strands, “just a heads up.”“yeah, I know.”, taehyung smiles too, so sweet and boyish. this man. yoongi’s own undeserved redemption. “thank you.”“for what?”“letting me in.”and yoongi is not really sure where this will all go. his depression and his love. how the fuck will he combine these two things, now that he knows they cannot be apart, cannot be felt apart, how to fall out of one and into another. he doesn’t know shit about that.what he does know is that taehyung is not a room but a whole home, not a cure but a power of will — and that yoongi loves him. just as sure as he is sick. just as sure he will get better. just as sure taehyung will be there when he does. and for once, just as sure that that time, the one who began it all, will be the very last.