Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jungkook woke up in his own bed the next morning. His lips were cracked and red, throat raspy and sore. His back ached from passing out in an uncomfortable position, still wearing the same clothes from the day before.

He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in his bed, tucked away under the weight of his duvet and the myriad of pillows he surrounded himself with. He wanted to avoid the day. To deny the rising sun and those that expected so much of him.

After finding the courage to open his eyes he laid in bed watching vine compilations for about an hour, carefully neglecting his twitter notifications and unread messages.
Eventually he needed to get up though. He needed a shower. He needed a glass of water and a clear mind.

Stepping out of his dark room into the living room, lit by the early afternoon sun, he felt a little bit better. Things didn’t feel quite so hopeless. There was a strange new resolve in his heart.
He took a little longer than usual in the shower. Standing in the hot water as he tried to scrub away all the parts of himself he didn’t like- as though it was possible to wash self-hate dwindle down the drain.
But no, Jungkook was going to be kinder to himself. Small changes. He supposed it was time to take life into his own hands. He was tired of waiting for things to happen to him. He was ready to make them happen.

Stepping out of the shower he quickly put on his pajamas again and wiped the steam off of the mirror.
He looked like a mess and felt worse.
Because egos can be mended but regret had a nasty habit of never letting go.

“Taehyung, I like you… do you wanna go out? He asked his reflection. He was not surprised when his voice came out croaky and raw. He didn’t know how much he drank last night but he knew that it was more than enough.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” He asked again, a little more confident this time. He hated the colour that dusted his cheeks, however. For just once in his life he wanted to be cool, suave. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime, maybe grab dinner?”

He cleared his throat and brushed his wet hair from his forehead. “Do you want to hangout as, like, more than friends?” He pressed his palm to his forehead, already exasperated by himself. “Do you wanna be my main hoe instead of just my bro?”

Jungkook jumped when the door burst open. He really should start remembering to lock it.

“You’re really dumb, I hope you know that.” Taehyung smiled, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His silk robe hung loosely on his frame, he would have almost looked dainty had it not been for the uggs and sweatpants he wore. His hair stuck up in every possible direction and he still wore the remains of last night’s makeup.

From the waist up he looked like a distressed golden-age Hollywood starlet. All starlight and champagne. Absolutely wrecked in the best way possible.
From the waist down he looked like a teenage girl from 2009.

Jungkook was fucked.

He wanted nothing more than to recede deeper within himself and hide forever. He wanted to disappear. To have never been born. What a beautiful thing it would be to never have existed at all.

He could hear the blood pounding in his head. The heat in the tips of his ears.
He couldn’t bring himself to move or speak. He was petrified.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen- not with toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, in dirty pajamas and un-styled hair.

“Two things,” Taehyung said, holding up three fingers. His eyes were shining, dancing in the fluorescent light, flickering beneath fluttering lashes. “Firstly, you really need to learn to lock your doors. This is ridiculous and you’re going to get robbed one of these days. Secondly, this bathroom literally shares a wall with my bedroom.”

Jungkook could only stare at the boy as he crossed the space between them- their faces only inches apart.

“And I would love to grab dinner as more than friends. I would love to be your main hoe and not just your bro.” he told him. He reached out and laced their fingers together. Taehyung’s touch was electric and fully charged, bringing life back to Jungkook.

“If you had waited ten more minutes I would have come and knocked on your door and asked you out properly.” He said, somewhat defensively.

Taehyung smiled his devilish smile, peering at Jungkook through long lashes and half-lidded eyes. He clasped his hands together behind Jungkook’s neck, pulling the younger boy a little closer. “I’m not very patient. You know that- I see something I want and I have to have it.”

Jungkook thought it was alright to drown in something as simple as a smile.

Jungkook tried his best to focus on his school work. He really did.
He buried himself in calculus textbooks and lecture slides, pages of torn out notes and half-completed math problems. Unfinished code that he didn’t bother to fix.

He tried to busy himself with Taehyung. Holding the artist’s hand as they walked down towering stacks of parchment and paintbrushes, tubes of paint and stacks of stretched canvas. But he couldn’t focus. Not on what Taehyung was saying, not on the way Taehyung reached out to hold his hand.

There was something in his head that he doesn’t really have a name for and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. It’s a familiar feeling, one he’s felt briefly a dozen times in his first year of university. A feeling that settled into his chest in high school.

It was an agitated, flighty feeling at first. A subtle panic that coiled around his heart. It made his jump at the slightest touch. Unable to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds.

The feeling had begun growing, festering like an unattended wound. It burned inside of him, biting and clawing at him. It had been keeping him awake at night.
Forcing him to stare at the ceiling while Taehyung curled into his side, breath warm, and deep asleep.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asked, squeezing his arm while he waited in line to pay for his new paint.

Jungkook forced a smile. “Just tired.” His response was automatic.

Taehyung reached out and adjusted the beanie on Jungkook’s head and then tightened his scarf. “We can go home and nap. I’ll be done here soon.”

If Taehyung suspected anything was wrong he didn’t say anything. He simply paid and escorted Jungkook out of the store. It was only a couple blocks away from their shared apartment building but it felt like hours had passed in those fifteen minutes.

As though the sun had risen and fallen and risen again in the time it took to cross Chinatown.
Taehyung spoke through most of the walk, only ever stopping for a brief moment when he fumbled with his keys. But he soon picked up again, disregarding his last train of thought entirely and beginning another one.

“Hot chocolate?” Taehyung asked, already grabbing three mugs. It was automatically assumed that Jimin was lurking somewhere in the apartment. If not, then he would appear in a few minutes with Yoongi in hand at the first whiff of something sweet and chocolaty in the air.

“Sounds good.”

Taehyung curled against his side, holding onto one of Jungkook’s arms and sliding his legs over his lap. “Are you really okay?”

“It’s nothing. Just stressed about an assignment.”

Taehyung gives him a pointed look.

“Just a bad day, okay? I’ll get over it.” Jungkook only just now noticed how clenched his jaw was. How much tension he carried in his body.

Jungkook was angry now, mostly with himself for feeling this way. For not understanding his emotions. But also, a small part of him is annoyed with Taehyung for being so persistent. For worrying.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

He wanted so badly to say that he didn’t do well on a school assignment or to blame it on bad weather. But he couldn’t. Everything just felt wrong.

Every part of himself that he tucked away, he distracted himself in order to avoid certain things and it seemed to be making itself apparent.

He thought about the last few months. How many times had he sought out Taehyung when he had begun to find himself feeling this way? How many times did Jungkook busy himself with Taehyung antics in order to escape himself?

So why wasn’t it working now?

“Jungkook.”

Taehyung waved his hand in front of Jungkook’s face, fingers long and slim and nails painted violet. There was paint crusted in his eyebrow, Jungkook just realized.

“Are you beginning to have second thoughts?” He asked. “Are you having second thoughts about me?”

“Of course not.”

It had taken two weeks to decide and make it official, though they had never really discussed it. It had rather sort of slipped out of Taehyung’s lips without a second thought or much deliberation, they had just done along with it- not bothering to question the new relationship status they shared.

And soon the couple was insufferable and inseparable in their own respective ways.
They were horrifically affectionate in front of their friends, always holding each other and fawning over the other. They never slept alone anymore- favouring to crash in one apartment or the other without a second thought.

Not a lot had changed between them- they still played video games and studied together, still eating pho at 2am. They bickered and watched movies, got overly competitive at Mario Kart. But now there were kisses exchanged when Jungkook solved a particularly troubling bit of code that wouldn’t run properly (it was always a misplaced comma).

The nights they were separated seemed lonelier in comparison.

Nights when Jungkook locked himself way on campus in the computer labs with the other kids in his program- gorging on pizza and energy drinks, coffee and mountain dew as they cranked out their assignments with increased desperation as the semester’s end drew closer.
Jungkook was helpful to stay busy.

The worst was the weekends where Tae would be hidden in the studio spaces at OCAD. He would never answer his phone, too busy fussing over his paintings and drawings and animation assignments. No one would hear for him for days at a time- finally emerging when his assignment was completed.

Those were the nights that were the hardest. The one’s where Jungkook couldn’t figure out how to distract himself anymore. Always bouncing between his games, checking his phone, and watching Netflix-sometimes all at once in order to keep himself going.
He was at a loss at his own feelings. No longer in control.
Because he wasn’t doubting Taehyung. He would never.

He was doubting himself.

When Jungkook woke up that morning it was to the scent of something sickly sweet and oddly burnt.
At first he was concerned that Taehyung was spray painting in the apartment again, but the air lacked the chemical-metallic smell that often came from the somewhat hazardous materials Taehyung occupied himself with.

No, this was far worse.

It was only on rare occasions that Taehyung ate breakfast- half an apple here and there or a handful of left over Cheetos from the night before. Maybe a cup of tea on a particularly rainy day. Jungkook had scolded him about this on multiple occasions but it seldom yielded results.
Yet when Jungkook summons enough energy to haul himself out of Taehyung’s bed he finds his boyfriend in the kitchen laughing with Jimin.

Taehyung was seated at their smile kitchen table in a full buttoned up pajama set and his uggs, drawing on a napkin with a chewed up pen. Jimin hovered over a frying pan, clearly exasperated but amused nonetheless.

“Good morning.” Taehyung doesn’t look up when Jungkook enters the kitchen. He smiles though. And that is enough for Jungkook. “I tried to make breakfast but it didn’t go well.”

“I had to take over. Tae was going to burn down the building.” Jimin stated, flipping pancakes.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Muttered Taehyung, still focused on his drawing.

Jimin scoffed, hand on his hip and brows furrowed. “The bacon was on fire… the pancakes were raw.”

Taehyung shrugged, reaching for an eraser. “I like my bacon crispy. Fight me if you don’t like it.”

“Please don’t fight in the kitchen.” Jungkook said, taking a seat beside Taehyung. His boyfriend immediately placed his hand on Jungkook’s thigh. “Don’t you have your own boyfriend to make breakfast before?” Jungkook asked Jimin.
Jimin smiled meekly while Taehyung began gnawing nervously on his bottom lip.

“I’m currently not talking to Yoongi. He’s indefinitely cancelled.” the blonde said, wiping his hands on a discarded dish towel that looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned in two months.

“Oh, sorry. I just thought- did you break up?”

“No.”

“We’re waiting for Yoongi to get his head out of his ass.” Taehyung supplied, looking up from his drawing for the first time.

Jungkook snorted. “That’ll never happen. What happened?”

“This and that.” Jimin sighed, turning back to the stove top once more.

Jungkook wanted to inquire further, but it was clear that Jimin didn’t want to continue the discussion any further. He wanted to know who was at fault- he presumed Yoongi, but then again, Yoongi was never the type to hurt anyone. His words were always careful- always going so far out of his way to ensure that he never hurt anyone’s feelings. Sometimes going so far as to say nothing at all.

But Jimin was raw and passionate, so young and vibrant in everything he did. A strange, charisma about him that pulled people towards him- much like Taehyung himself. It’s probably why they were such good friends. But Jimin had more sharp edges about him- capable of wrapping people around his finger.
There wasn’t an ounce of self-consciousness in the way he presented himself- ears clustered with metal rings, narrow hips and an inviting face.
Min Yoongi was a fool.
And so was Jimin.

Taehyung stopped doodling for a second, pencil held lazily in Taehyung’s long, deft fingers. He looked at Jungkook sheepishly. “Are you feeling better today?”

He nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Much.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but a not-whole truth either.

Taehyung then kissed Jungkook on the cheek, smile wide.

And Jungkook hated himself, just a little bit. Because he was the reason Taehyung doubted himself. Doubted their relationship. And Jungkook never, ever wanted to make someone feel that way. Especially when he cared for Taehyung so much. He wanted to be the person to lift Taehyung up, to support him in all of his endeavors and make the boy feel so impossibly loved.
And Jungkook was selfish. Because he was hurting Taehyung by constantly pulling away, but he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t bring himself to leave him. Didn’t know if he was confident enough to stay.

“I hope you like pancakes.” Taehyung smiled as he placed a stack in front of Jungkook.
And here was Taehyung, bending over backwards to convince Jungkook that they were real. That what they felt for each other wasn’t a casual, whirlwind affection.

Jungkook frowned. “They’re not as good as waffles but that’s okay.”

Taehyung swiped the plate away before Jungkook even had a chance to pick up his fork. “Fucking starve then!”

At some point it started raining outside. Hard, heavy raindrops that hit hard against the window like a drummer doing a solo. There was a delicate rhythm to it, despite how loud it was. But it wasn’t enough to cover the buzzing in the back of his mind.

“Do you wanna go watch a movie today?” Taehyung asked in between mouthfuls of syrup-soaked bacon.

Jungkook shook his head. “I have to meet with my TA to discuss my final.”

Taehyung pushed the remnants of his breakfast around on his plate with a fork. “It’s a Saturday.”

“It’s the only time my TA was free to meet. Sorry… I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” He said, holding Taehyung’s hand and giving it a little squeeze.

But thirty minutes later Jungkook was already out of the apartment and disappeared next door.
But he wanted to choose this: late morning breakfasts with Taehyung; waking up in bed sheets covered in eraser bits and pencil shavings, paint stained hands- smudges of blue and gold.

But he didn’t.
Not today at least.

Today Jungkook was tired and aching down to the marrow of his bones.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook watched as his roommate carefully poured coffee from the pot into a cracked white mug. There was something artistic about the way Yoongi made his morning coffee. As though part of a ritual that was heavily laced in ancient spiritualities that were best not meddled with.
It was a careful process, though nothing he did diverged from the normal coffee-making process. Yet somehow the coffee Yoongi made always tasted a little better- not quite as bitter, but still strong in flavour. It was Yoongi’s own particular brand of mundane magic.

“For the past couple days you’ve looked like you’ve been sleep walking.” Yoongi spoke again, holding a mug out for Jungkook to take.

It was a comforting gesture. One that felt pleasant and domestic. A form of affection that closely resembled the days that Jungkook would get home from school and his older brother would make him hot chocolate.

Except him and Yoongi were two sleepy university students in their pajamas with a grand total of seven dollars in their bank accounts between the pair of them.

“I’m okay.” Jungkook said with forced confidence.

Yoongi didn’t seem to believe him. He watched Jungkook with a low gaze while he poured a dollop of cream into his coffee.
But Yoongi was keenly observant. He was extraordinarily sensitive to those around him, often susceptible to the moods and emotions of those he was close to. It was impossible to hide things from Yoongi- secrets, maybe. But never feelings.

And as often as Yoongi urged others to speak about their own problems, he never spoke of his own. Instead he let them fester. Never letting go of the hurt.

“I’m okay.” Jungkook said while he sat himself on the counter. He breathed in the scent of his coffee before taking a hesitant sip. It was still too hot. “Just…”

“C’mon you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone else.” he urged with pressing worry.

“Not even Jimin?”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, face half concealed behind his mug. “Especially not Jimin. I promise.”

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped forward. Both of his hands wrapped around the mug, still too hot to the touch. It burnt his palms, but he couldn’t feel it. Not really. It didn’t hurt yet.

“How did you know that Jimin and you would work out? Like… how did you know that your relationship would last?”

Yoongi sighed. “I didn’t know. I don’t know that we will work out. But I’m happy with him. We make each other happy and that should be enough. People deserve to be happy.”

Jungkook gnawed on his bottom lip until it cracked and bled with worry. “What if the happiness doesn’t last? What if you stop being happy in a month? Or six or a year? Or ten years?”

“Then you move on. You learn to be happy on your own. You make someone else happy. I don’t know.”

“What if they stop being happy with you? What then?”

Yoongi put his coffee down. Jungkook didn’t dare to meet Yoongi’s gaze though. Rather he kept his eyes focused on the cracked kitchen tile. It would need to be fixed before they eventually moved out. Or had it been there when they moved in? Did any of them even know how to fix a kitchen tile?

“Jungkook, what’s this about?” asked Yoongi. He didn’t bother to mask his concern.

Jungkook desperately wanted to tell Yoongi that he didn’t need to worry. That there was no need for concern. He was fine. He was fine. He was fine as long as he didn’t feel like he was choking on air. As though his windpipe was restricting. The moments that made him feel like he was dying. As though there was something dark and decrepit inside of him. He was rotting from the inside out.

“Jungkook, I won’t tell anyone. Not Jimin, not Namjoon. No one. It’s just you and I.”

“Okay.”

“Are you having second thoughts about your feelings for Taehyung? It’s okay… it happens. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you like someone or like-like them. We’ve all been there.”

Jungkook blushed, the smallest hint of a chuckle caught in his throat. “I know I like him. And I know he likes me… He tried to make me breakfast yesterday. And I want to bring him home to meet my mom for Christmas and that’s the problem.”

“I get it.” Yoongi wore an expression Jungkook hadn’t seen in a long time. He was deeply wounded. Reaching out to a boy who didn’t appear to be reaching back.
And Jungkook knew that Yoongi and Jimin were different than him and Tae. But they were all equally naive.

“Do you? ‘Cause what if he meets my mom and she’s lovely and she loves him and Christmas is wonderful and he takes one look at me and breaks up with me a week later.” He rambled too quickly. He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. “Do you know how awful that would be? I mean, he’ll have met my mom and…”

“Why do you think Taehyung is going to break up with you after Christmas?”

“Not just Christmas. New Year’s Eve. Chinese New Year. Midterms. Easter. Summer. He could do it at any point. And what do I do then? It always ends doesn’t it? If we don’t break up now we’ll end up married with two kids and then get a divorce.”

Yoongi blinked twice. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” Jungkook said. Tears began to trickle down his cheeks. He sniffled.

“If the guy made you breakfast he’s not leaving anytime soon. Especially if he agreed to meet your mom. He’s in it for the long haul.” Yoongi reassured. “I’m not going to tell you ‘don’t worry’ ‘cause that seems a little pointless… but just… worry a little less. You have a good thing with Taehyung right now.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Stop doubting yourself. Stop doubting Taehyung. Learn to appreciate things as they happen. Just do your best to get your shit together.”

Namjoon found them both an hour later in Yoongi’s bedroom listening to music until Jungkook no longer felt quite like his world was ending.

“How do you like this one?” Yoongi asked, as he changed the track. A song immediately began playing through the headphones. It was low, with a steady beat and a strong bass line. The sort of music Yoongi was always listening to.

Jungkook hummed, eyes closed. The music was loud and hard in his ears, faintly escaping through the headphones. Because that’s how Yoongi listened to his music: loud and hard- typically prefering to listen CDs and vinyl to make up for data missing from mp3 files.
Sometimes it made the entire apartment shake with the noise of it all.
But they had yet to receive any formal noise complaints.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook nodded. His heart had finally slowed in his chest. Breathing slowed. Whatever erratic, unforgiveable panic that had once consumed him was no longer as pressing. But it was still there. He could feel it every time he shuddered or took a deep breath.

It never really left him.

He curled on his side on Yoongi’s bed, feet slipping under the covers.

It hadn’t really begun with his mother or her phone call. It had gone on much longer than that.
But the phone call had felt like a catalyst of sorts, something that brought forth a wave of thoughts that pushed him over the tipping point.

It hadn’t been his mother’s fault though. He had put himself in this position.
She had called him in order to make sure he was coming home for Christmas and Jungkook had asked if it was alright if Taehyung could join them. He had been excited when he had asked. Giddy even.
But now all he felt was dread.
It was a horrible, unsettling feeling.

Yoongi seemed to understand that. He extended empathy the best way he knew how: by putting on a song that was a little more uplifting, jovial in its musicality with nostalgic, bitter lyrics. A song that was only sad if you knew all the words.

It brought Jungkook some validation- made him feel as though whatever it was that he was feeling was real and genuine and not misplaced. He had a right to feel this way.
Namjoon seemed to understand too because he came back with two large pizzas and sat on Yoongi’s bedroom floor. And they sat there all evening, just the three of them, talking about everything and anything until their stomachs were fuller and their hearts a little lighter, though they remained just as fragile.
And when they could begin to hear Taehyung and Jimin’s laughter from outside Yoongi’s window that served as the emergency exit to the shared fire escape Yoongi turned up the music until the outside world disappeared.

“You’ve got everything, right?” Jungkook asked as they hopped on the train at Union Station. It was an hour long journey to Jungkook’s piece of the suburbs surrounding the city, but Jungkook was anxious. He felt like he was breathing through a gasoline-soaked rag.
He had packed and re-packed, double checked his bags multiple times to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything but it did little to undo the knotted mess in his chest.

“Yup.” Taehyung smiled, tightening his grip on his bag. If he was nervous about going to Jungkook’s childhood home, it didn’t show.
Jungkook guided him to the second floor of the train where they collapsed on their seats and readied for departure.
It took all of three seconds for Taehyung to declare that he was bored and rip out his laptop and play a movie.

“You know it’s only like a fifty minute ride, right?” Jungkook reminded him.

“I know but i need to distract myself. Like, what if your mom hates me?”

“She won’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She won’t”

“Shhh… the movie is starting! No talking!” He said, thrusting one of his earbuds to Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t really pay attention to the movie. It was a documentary, one that Taehyung’s professor’s recommended he watch over the winter break.
It didn’t exactly interest Jungkook, but Taehyung had a great deal of opinions. Besides, how could Jungkook focus when Taehyung had commentary for every scene and his hand on Jungkook’s knee?

“A lot of people hate Van Gogh’s art ‘cause they think it’s childish. They hate it ‘cause it’s popular. They hate it ‘cause teenage girls on the internet like the colour yellow. Because the artist was so fucked up but he still managed to see the beauty in things - and that shit resonates with people. Why can’t people just let other people be happy? What’s wrong with liking something because it’s popular?”

“That’s the least-hipster sounding thing you’ve ever said and it still sounds pretentious.”

Taehyung frowned. He burrowed the lower half of his face in the front of his winter coat.

“Everyone says I’m pretentious but I don’t think people really know what that means. It’s not a pretense. It’s not a persona. I don’t pretend or put up a front.” He explained. “This is who I am.”

Jungkook nodded while holding Taehyung’s gaze. He wanted the older boy to know he understood.

He pressed a chaste kiss to the boy’s cheek. “I know, baby. I know.”

Taehyung grinned ear to ear. The sort of smile that rose to meet his eyes.

Jungkook buried his face in Taehyung’s neck. He pressed kisses and apologies onto Tae’s magnolia scented skin. He didn’t dare stop until he was certain that Taehyung knew his
apology was sincere.

“We’re in public!” Taehyung squirmed beneath Jungkook, eyeing a middle aged couple across the aisle who seemed rather annoyed by their sudden display of affection.

But Jungkook didn’t care. He was entranced by Taehyung’s voice - sweet like nectar, savory like a pomegranate. Enthralled by his eyes - warm and rich like a honeycomb.

“That’s never stopped you before.” Jungkook replied, all cheek. He bit down on Taehyung’s bottom lip.He wandered until he began pressing chaste kisses on the boy’s neck.

Taehyung pulled away. He looked ready to scold Jungkook, but not with levity. “I’m not meeting your mother for the first time covered in hickeys.”
“I’ll just tell her you burnt yourself with a curling iron.”

Taehyung ignored Jungkook’s suggestion. “What kind of impression would that give her? She’ll think I’m corrupting her baby.”

His heart was soaring. A warm feeling starting in his center soon filled his veins. He was overcome with a dream-like state and lightness. He felt like he was floating.

“You care about what my mom will think?”

Taehyung nodded. He was suddenly quiet, looking over at Jungkook wide timid doe-eyes. “What if she doesn’t approve of me? Of us? I want you to be happy. I want to be someone you can be proud to introduce to your friends and family.” He admitted.

Jungkook immediately reached for Taehyung’s hand. He laced their fingers together. “You’re my best friend and the best boyfriend I could ever have. They’re going to love you. Just be yourself.”

“Myself? Yeah… I can do that.” He muttered, resting his head on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Am I really your best friend?”

Jungkook snorted. “Of course.”

“Not Yoongi or Namjoon?” asked Taehyung.

“They’re more like my weird older brothers.”

“What about Jimin?”

“Jimin is your best friend.” Jungkook replied, flatly, but he was grinning nonetheless.

He smiled. “Jimin’s my soulmate. You’re my best friend, Jeon Jungkook.”

Taehyung was quiet for the short remainder of the train ride. He listened intently to the documentary, nodding along. The only sound he made was from his deep, full breaths and the scratch that came from chipping off his holiday inspired nail polish. The very same nail art he had spent two hours doing the night before.

“It’ll be fine.” Jungkook assured him again. “They’re going to love you.”

Because how could they not?

Everything that comprised Taehyung was left in the open. There were no secrets. His hopes and dreams were embroidered on his jackets. His beliefs clung to his bag on buttons and pins. Everything was clearly depicted in his handwriting and the manner in which he walked.
His being was illustrated in his designed sunglasses and thrifted sneakers. His dinner plates and the company he kept.
Everything and everyone Taehyung surrounded himself with was a portrait.

“How long have you been dating now?” She asked, as she fretted around the kitchen in a flurry. His mother was a short woman, all spirit and no bullshit. Straight to the point. Always in charge of the situation.

As she stirred the pot of boiling potatoes on the stove she smiled at him in that way that only young, single mothers could seem to do.

Jungkook thought about it for a moment, taking a break from dicing carrots. “We met in September and we’ve been dating for almost two months now.” he said, somewhat hesitant because even though he knew the exact date of their first kiss- the moment they started officially dating, it felt as though they had been doing this dance for a lot longer.

“Only two months and you’re already bringing him home to meet your family? You must really trust us or you must really love him?”
Every part of him turned red.

“I could love him.” He admitted. “But we’re not there yet.”

His mother wrapped an arm around him and squeezed, a heartfelt side hug. “What did you get him for Christmas? What did he get you?”

His smile was suddenly huge while a warm, fuzzy feeling fought to consume him. “I got him a couple prints from some twitter artist he liked and some new copics. It cost me an arm and a leg but it was worth it.”

“Oh? And what did he get you?”

He paused. “A cactus. Like, three of them. and a fern-thing. What am I supposed to do with succulents?”

“Do you still sleep in a cave like some brooding teenager?”

He rolled his eyes in response. Not bothering to dignify his mother’s speculation with a verbal reply. That would grant her too much satisfaction.

His mother smiled. “Maybe he’s trying to bring some colour to your life. Tell you to get out more. Teach you some basic responsibility?”

Jungkook snorted, almost slicing his finger while dicing carrots. “I’m plenty responsible.” He retorted, going on to describe to his mother his phenomenal work ethic despite the
chaos associated with his program and it’s administrative staff, alongside his responsibilities at McDonalds where he was being trained to be a shift leader.

“And how about you, Taehyung? Do you work as well, hmm?” His mother smiled as he entered the kitchen after spending a great deal of time playing with Jungkook’s younger
cousins.

“Oh.” Taehyung said. His face went slack, void of any notable expression as it often did when he was thinking or trying to best formulate an answer without stumbling over his words.

“Taehyung is an artist.” Jungkook offered. “He does commissions. He’s really talented.”

“Is that right?” She asked, obviously both amused and content with the answer. “I’ll have to get you to paint my portrait then.” She laughed softly to herself while Taehyung seemed
to turn a grey-ish colour.

“Jungkook I told you to slice the carrots, not dice them! Oh, dear. Get out of my kitchen before you do something worse!”

“You asked for my help!”

“It’s alright. I guess I’ll just do everything. Make Christmas dinner for my two sons and my sister’s family and your boyfriend. But it’s fine. Really.”

“Mom-”

“I have to do everything around here, don’t I?” His mother sighed, pinning back her dark hair and wiping her hands on her apron.

“Mom-”

“It’s fine. Both my sons went off to university and leave me behind. And they come home so skinny, not taking care of themselves… all I ask is for some carrots to be diced…”

“Alright, Mom,” Jungkook sighed, taking Taehyung’s hand. “We’re going to be in the living room. Let me know if there’s anything we can do for you.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’ll do it all by myself.”

“I can see where you get it from. Your mom and you are really similar.” Taehyung giggled as he snuggled up to Jungkook’s side. They both turned their gaze to the Dr. Seuss animated grinch film playing in the TV. It had captured the attention of the majority of the children in the room- young kids watching with wonder and older kids with heartfelt nostalgia.

“She’s ridiculous. I love her, but yeah.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“Mom, I told already, Taehyung is a vegetarian.” He said as his mother set the turkey down on the dining room table.

“I know, that’s why I went to one of those fancy supermarkets and bought him a tofurkey loaf!” She enthused as she retreated into the kitchen and brought out a strange loaf that sort of resembled something edible and possibly appetizing alongside a bowl of mashed potatoes.

“Thank you.” Taehyung said with a shy smile. “You really didn’t have to!”

“Nonsense! Alright everyone, dig in!”

It was strange, Jungkook thought. Sitting at his dining room table surrounded by all of his mother’s relatives, his intimate family and his boyfriend. It was strange enough to be in
his childhood home after being away for so long, and having so many other places to call home. It still felt comfortable, but strange. Like taking your winter coat out of the closet after a long summer, not quite ready to let go of your fall wardrobe.
Your winter coat still fit the same as it did last year, but not quite right.
His childhood home didn’t really belong to him anymore. He felt more like a frequent, well welcomed guest than a resident.
His little piece of the gentrified suburbs that seemed to sprawl out of the city like an invasive species that stole away all the farmland that had been there previously was not his own anymore.

But it was good to be home.

And taehyung seemed to be making friend everywhere he looked. He discussed graphic design with Jungkook’s older brother with both familiarity and fondness, animatedly spoke
to Jungkook’s cousins about cartoons, and was able to hold an intelligible conversation about his political views with Jungkook’s uncle without sounding too much like a neo-Marxist or social liberal.

When they finished eating Taehyung had even offered to do the dishes, winning over his mother’s praise.

Jungkook could hardly remember why he had fretted and had such dismantling bouts of anxiety over the past couple weeks.

“He’s quite the charmer.” His mother observed while Taehyung helped clear away plates and dinner dishes. “He’s definitely making an effort.”

Jungkook agreed.

“Look out for yourself and look out for him.” She said, twisting her finger where her wedding band and engagement ring had once rested five years prior. “I’m glad you have someone in the city to keep you company. Someone who cares about you. Because I can tell that he does.”
Jungkook felt somewhat assured by that, but it also served as a remainder of his mother’s own failed marriage that had torn his family apart. His father had gone back to Korea to live with Jungkook’s grandparents and now had a new wife.
A new family that Jungkook had never met. A new home. New kids.

While his mother had been given a broken heart, two teenage boys to raise and an ever growing debt and mortgage to pay.

“He really likes you.” She reiterated. “Don’t let what happen to me and your father mess up your own love life. You always were sensitive.”

Jungkook pouted. “I’m not sensitive.”

She laughed and stood up, taking the last of the dishes with her. “You always did enjoy lying to yourself, didn’t you? I had hoped you would have grown out of that by now.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair.

Taehyung was hard to read- someone so in love with life and everyone and anything that it was sometimes hard to feel special when Taehyung made everyone feel like they were
the only person in the universe that mattered.
And maybe after a shitty first high school relationship and a messy divorce that coincided Jungkook needed to be reminded that love was real and that relationships weren’t always awful. They could be good.

“You were an outdoorsy kid, weren’t you?” Taehyung asked as he dropped his overnight bags on the floor of Jungkook’s childhood bedroom. He picked up an old photo of a much younger Jungkook holding a butterfly net with a creek in the background. “You probably ate a lot of dirt.”

“What, ewww no. I guess I was sort of outdoorsy though. No more than any other kids though. Like, my friends and I would ride our bikes to the corner store and buy ice cream
and hangout in our fort in the forest by the park… but once I got my first Nintendo we all started hanging out inside.” He reminisced. He could still feel the warmth on his face, spurring a sea of freckles, hear the rustling of leaves as he climbed trees. The gentle patter of rain on window panes only hushed by the sounds of boys bickering over Kirby’s Epic Air Ride.

Taehyung paused in front of his bookshelf, stopping only to admire his extensive collection of Pokemon cards and Playstation games.

Jungkook felt suddenly self-conscious of his childhood bedroom. It was a place of protected innocence. A projection of himself through every step of life until now. A collection of his fondest memories perfectly preserved.

“How about you, city you, did you eat a lot of dirt?”

Taehyung scoffed and smoothed out the creases in his thrifted designer sweater. He looked like a model- some sort of socialite belonging to high-rise penthouse apartments and refined taste. A certain sort of self-importance that one only develops from living in a city- one cultivated from navigating subways and busy downtown streets, walking without a care about the opinions of those passed by.

“City boy? I only moved to Toronto when I came to Canada in high school. I’m a small-town country boy, y’know?” He laughed at Jungkook’s expression- one of speculation and disbelief. before sitting back on Jungkook’s bed. “I used to ride my bike to school past cabbage fields and apple orchards. Huge Geochang apples the size of my face. I used to help my grandma on the farm.”

At Jungkook’s silence he added, “We had like, four dogs and six cats.”

“I just assumed…”

Taehyung shrugged. “People assume a lot of things. But that’s okay. I guess I don’t talk about myself a lot. Korea felt like a different life. A different world.”
His voice was a portrait of his soul, Jungkook decided. Deep and old- filled with unsurprising intellect, but also warm and comforting like a cup of chai on a rainy day or a home cooked meal eaten with friends or family. There was something special about his voice

“Do you miss it?” He tried to imagine Taehyung somewhere else, far away. A country that Jungkook had no real association with other than certain cultural practices and behaviours he had inherited from his parents- one that made itself most apparent when it came to his school lunches that never resembled those of his friends.

He tried to imagine Taehyung sitting in a classroom somewhere else, playing games in an arcade growing up, discovering himself under a wide open, blue sky.
Jungkook couldn’t do it. It seemed his imagination wasn’t impressive enough. Instead he saw Taehyung’s extensive knowledge of the subway and ability to navigate less conventional means of getting around the city through Toronto’s underground tunnel system and back alley ways.

“I guess so? I mean it was really different and I think I have a habit of romanticizing it. If I still lived there I’d probably be helping on the family farm or studying in some lame-ass business program hating myself.” He stated bluntly.

“I’m glad you’re here.” mumbled Jungkook, trying not to sound too shy but he couldn’t help it.

Taehyung laced their fingers together, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

That night while Taehyung sat curled against Jungkook’s chest in his child-sized twin bed, painting the younger boy’s nails a particularly garish colour of green, Jungkook knew.
Under the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling, he knew.
He knew he loved Taehyung and he knew Taehyung loved him.

Jungkook pressed a kiss against the older boy’s cheek. His skin smelt sweet, soft to the touch. Still fresh from the face mask he had washed off only moments prior.

“Gah- what are you doing? You’re going to make me mess up!” Taehyung groaned, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and securing it in place. “If I get nail polish on your iron man sheets it’s all your fault!”

“I know.”

“Hey Jungkook,” Taehyung asked after a long while. His voice wavered slightly as he strained to paint Jungkook’s pinkie.

“Yeah?”

“We’re… we’re okay, right?”

Jungkook swallowed hard. He trembled slightly. Taehyung could feel it.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

Taehyung kept painting, nose twitching slightly at the offensive smell. “You were weird for a couple weeks before Christmas. I thought you were going to… I thought we were going to break up or something. I don’t know... maybe I’m dumb.”

“Hey no,” Jungkook squeezed his boyfriend. “That wasn’t you. That was me. I was being dumb.”

“You just kept pulling away from me! I didn’t know if you needed space or more attention or if I had done anything! I barely saw you at all. You and Yoongi spent all your time together. Even Jimin was worried. We both assumed the worst I guess.” he shrugged.

“Yoongi was helping me sort out my own problems. But I’m getting over it. I don’t think I’m there yet. But I’m getting better with it.”

Taehyung looked up at him. “You can talk to me, y’know?

Jungkook nodded. “I know.”

“‘Cause I’m in this for the long haul if you are. I want to make this work and I can’t do that if you disappear for three weeks after you invite me home for Christmas. That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

Taehyung pulled away from him. He sat stiff on the other end of the bed. Rigid, with wide eyes.“Then why did you do it? ‘Cause I’d liked you since September but you just kept
talking about your ex. You were so hung up on him. So I was fine being friends. It wouldn’t happen. I got the message- loud and clear. And then you kissed me and we started ‘this’ and if you’re still hung up on him then let me know so I can cut my losses and keep whatever pride I still have.”

“Tae-”

His eyes glistened with tears that never fell. “Jimin warned me, did you know that? He told me not to get involved with someone who was still clinging to his ex. I’m so dumb!”
“I’m over him! We broke up in grade twelve. He doesn’t matter to me anymore, I promise!”

“Then what was it? What was going on in that stupid head of yours!”

“I just… I panicked? I guess… my parent’s divorce, the break up… it all happened around the same time. That fucks with a kid. It’s dumb and so mundane, but I guess I had bigger commitment issues than I thought. I like a guy and then things get serious and I freak out and I end things.”

Taehyung choked. “Do you want to… end things? With me?”

Jungkook shook his head. “You’re the first person that makes me want to stay.”

Taehyung snorted.

“Sorry- that was lame. But I mean it. I guess that’s why I had such a tough time… I was scared ‘cause I had never liked someone as much as I liked you before. I didn’t want to end things.”

“Don’t do this to me again, Jeon Jungkook. Because that’s not fair to me. You have your issues and that’s fine. We all have them. But don’t project them onto me. Don’t treat me like I’m disposable.” He said it as though he was ready to fight the universe and everyone in it. He said it as though he had been fighting the world for a very long time, all on his
own, and was about ready to give up.

“Taehyung-”

“You can’t do that to a person, Jungkook.”

Taehyung- wide smile Taehyung, big heart and long limbed Taehyung, self-love advocate Taehyung, LGBTQ+ rights enthusiast Taehyung, club president Taehyung, carefree Taehyung. Taehyung- young and free and beautiful smiled at him. Just a small smile.

But it was enough.

Jungkook nodded, deeply ashamed of his actions. But he pulled Taehyung into a quiet embrace while he continued to quietly cry until Jungkook’s shoulder was wet with tears.

“I won’t do it again. I know. I fucked up. I fucked up.”

“I forgive you.” Taehyung said as he pulled away to look at Jungkook.

“You don’t have to.”

“I like you, Jeon Jungkook. I want to be with you.” He said earnestly, albeit a little broken up as he smiled through his tears.

“I like you too. So stop crying. We both know you’re an ugly crier.” Jungkook smiled fondly, brushing Taehyung’s tawny hair away from his forehead and cupping his cheek.

Taehyung wiped his eyes with his sleeve and laughed. “Give me your other hand. I have to finish painting your nails otherwise it’ll look weird.”