Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

2020

There seems to be a reversal of roles compared to four years ago, in Taehyung’s opinion. For one thing, instead of a stuffy auditorium, he’s seated in one of the plastic folding chairs of the university’s football stadium, fresh air abound. For another, he’s the one standing up, eyes squinted and scanning the crowd to spot Jeongguk’s parents. And, unfortunately, when he spots them, he’s the one doing the crazy arm wave to get their attention. God, he hates this.

To clarify, he hates doing the crazy arm wave. He does not, in fact, hate being at Jeongguk’s graduation ceremony. How terrible would it be of him, a reasonable extrovert who loves celebrations and events, to hate being here? 

So when Jeongguk’s parents finally reach the seats he saved for them, he graciously acts like he didn’t mind saving the seats and doing a mild reenactment of Twice’s Cheer Up, exchanges hugs and small talk until a voice over the loudspeaker is calling “GRADUATES, ARE YOU READY?”

He watches the students file out of the tunnel where the football team usually explodes from, some generic fanfare blaring (it might be their school anthem, he’s not too sure), and suddenly the entire crowd starts cheering and calling names of students who won’t be able to see them from the distance.

Taehyung squints again, looking out for the cap decorated like a lake to pass by. Thankfully, the university is kind enough to provide a map of each school’s seating area, so when Jeongguk finally files into the seats, he’s totally within viewing distance.

(Secretly, Taehyung gives himself a pat on the back for the awesome seats he snagged… like, damn. Where all the parents are zooming in to the max capacity of their phones’ cameras, Taehyung’s able to get a halfway decent shot of Jeongguk without touching the zoom slider.)

“JEONGGUK,” he calls, trying not to feel embarrassed, but hey he already danced to Twice basically so what’s a little more loss of dignity? The blue-green-decorated cap swivels around as Jeongguk glances up at the stands, hand shading his eyes from the sun, until he spots Taehyung and his parents. A smile blooms on his face and he waves wildly, nearly knocking the cap off the head of the person sitting next to him.

Taehyung waves one more time, and then someone is on stage speaking into a microphone, asking for their attention.

Taehyung doesn’t cry when Jeongguk’s name is called. No, he doesn’t cry and he definitely doesn’t scream until his vocal chords give out on him and you can’t prove otherwise.

“Hyung, you missed the turn,” Jeongguk points out, just as the GPS announces it’s rerouting. They’re on their way to Jeongguk’s favorite restaurant, but they’ve never approached it from this direction.

“For fuck’s sake,” Taehyung sighs, but Jeongguk just laughs. He asks, not for the first time in the last twenty minutes, “are you sure you don’t wanna go home and just get takeout?”

“My parents are waiting for us, Taetae,” Jeongguk says, as if he hasn’t already said that multiple times. “Just take the next left, it’ll be fine.”

And so it’s with more grumbling from Taehyung and calm, clear directions from Jeongguk that they make it to the restaurant on time. 

Taehyung is only a little bit bummed out when he spots Jeongguk’s parents sitting on either side of the booth, meaning he won’t get to sit next to Jeongguk, but oh well. He sits down next to Jeongguk’s dad, exchanging small talk about the traffic while Jeongguk’s mom fusses over her son’s collared shirt. It’s cute how indulgent Jeongguk is of his parents. But maybe that’s just because the younger is a little bit of a momma’s boy, always has been, probably always will be.

As if he’d want Jeongguk any other way.

Jeongguk’s first post-graduation depression-fit hits only a week after his commencement ceremony. Frankly, Taehyung doesn’t see the build up happening, so when Jeongguk snaps about having too much time on his hands, Taehyung’s just a little bit taken aback.

“Guk, this is the first time in your life you’ve had so much free time,” he points out, unsure of what the issue is exactly.

“Yeah, and I feel completely useless!” Jeongguk punches one of their couch cushions. “I’ve been in formal education for, like, twenty years! And suddenly I’m just expected to make it in the real world? I don’t even know what my personality is without school!”

“Hey, now, you have a great personality and school has nothing to do with it,” Taehyung tries to reassure the younger. “If it really bothers you that much, let’s start some job applications or something.”

“I already have! I’ve sent in at least three applications to places just today. Forget the other six days of the week,” Jeongguk tells him, eyebrows still furrowed in frustration. “But all I get are rejections or ‘we’re not hiring now’ or just flat out nothing . All that bullshit about preparing us for the real world is fake as hell, all they do is prepare us for what college professors want from us!”

“I know it’s hard now, but it won’t be like this forever,” Taehyung tries again, reaching out for Jeongguk’s hand, which is clenched tightly in a fist. He smooths out his fingers until he can thread them together. “Finding a job really isn’t as easy as they make it sound, but you’ll manage. And in the meantime, just try to find something else to do.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jeongguk scoffs, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. “You had at least five job offers before you even graduated. There’s just… nothing to look forward to.”

“How so?” he tugs on Jeongguk’s hand until the younger scootches over and curls up against him.

“I’ve always had something to look forward to, you know? Finishing elementary and joining you at middle school, then joining you at high school, then graduating, then college and moving in together, then getting together and now graduating college…” Jeongguk trails off wistfully. “But now, the next time I get to celebrate a milestone will be when I turn fifty or something.”

Taehyung hums, smoothing his free hand over Jeongguk’s hair, cradling his boyfriend in what he hopes is a comforting fashion. He sighs.

“I wouldn’t say that,” is all he says though, because sometimes Jeongguk doesn’t want an actual conversation, instead just wanting to vent for a while.

“What d’you mean?” Jeongguk asks, looking up from his spot against Taehyung’s shoulder. He makes a noise of protest when Taehyung stops moving his hand against his hair, which is so grossly endearing that Taehyung things his heart might burst a little. Like a break in the dam.

“We’re young, there are totally things to look forward to that aren’t turning fifty,” he pauses, but Jeongguk’s still looking up at him with those eyes. “Your first job, promotion, maybe going to grad school, getting married, things like that.”

“You realize we can’t get married, right?” Jeongguk asks with a tone of disbelief, but something… that isn’t disbelief under it.

“Not legally,” Taehyung corrects. “As far as the government and our taxes are concerned, we’re just perpetual roommates. They don’t need to know what goes on in these walls.”

“I doubt they want to, either,” Jeongguk finally relaxes, snickering a little. “So… what? Are you proposing right now?”

Taehyung gasps, offended. “As if I’d give you a half-assed proposal in the middle of your identity crisis? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“You’re right, you’d definitely do something more dramatic than this,” Jeongguk agrees easily, relaxing further against Taehyung, temporarily distracted from the employment disappointment.

“I’m just saying, there are things to look forward to, Guk,” Taehyung repeats, hand back to smoothing through Jeongguk’s hair. “And I know you’re feeling frustrated and helpless right now, but I’ll be here with you through it all.”

Jeongguk hums, eyes closing, ready to nod off only to be rudely awakened with a yelp when he feels Taehyung’s finger stab his side. “Absolute dick, oh my god. What do I even see in you?”

“Hey, so about your identity crisis from two weeks ago,” Taehyung says, followed by a low groan as Jeongguk’s fingers curl into him.

“No,” Jeongguk presses a firm kiss against his lips. “You’re not talking about my employment situation while I’m fingering you.”

“But I’ll forget,” Taehyung whines, then whines again for an entirely different reason. “It’ll take less than two seconds.”

“Fine, what about my identity crisis from two weeks ago?” Jeongguk sighs and resignedly peppers kisses along Taehyung’s neck, feeling the low vibrations when the older starts talking.

“A couple positions in HR opened up,” Taehyung tells him, pausing only to get used to the feeling of Jeongguk adding another finger to stretch him out. “It’s totally entry level, but more than minimum wage and has some benefits. I can’t necessarily convince you to hire them, but the application process does include one of those how’d you find out about this job sections, so you could name drop me if you wanted.”

“Is that all?” Jeongguk grunts, finally pulling out his fingers and opening a condom wrapper. 

“Yeah, I’ll send you the link later,” Taehyung says, taking a breather and watching (in awe, mostly because of the way Jeongguk’s abs flex with the way he’s sitting) as Jeongguk rolls the condom on. “Now, you know, fuck me.”

“That’s the plan.”

(After banging the hell out of his boyfriend, Jeongguk does submit an application, leading to an interview. One month after Taehyung interrupted their Sexy Times™ with the job information, Jeongguk received a phone call with a job offer.)

The wind is particularly harsh, blowing off the lake full force and shredding against Jeongguk’s cheeks (the only skin on him that’s exposed) like an icy cheesegrater. Taehyung’s hand is fit snugly against his, their bodies pressed close to preserve some heat.

It was Taehyung’s idea to go for a walk. It’ll be fun, snowy winter walks are so romantic is what the older man had claimed, and Jeongguk believed him like the whipped boyfriend he is. Going for a walk in the dead of winter, snow blowing and wind howling, was not part of his original plan for visiting his family. No, Christmas is meant for warm, cozy mugs of hot chocolate and curling up on the couch with Taehyung to watch bad (yet predictable) hallmark holiday movies. It was not meant for frostbite on the tip of his nose and the tears leaking out of his eyes nearly freezing. But here he is, taking a fun, snowy winter walk with the love of his life.

As they near the water’s edge, he hears Taehyung say something, muffled by the scarf over his mouth. The older is pointing at the water, and because he knows Taehyung so well, Jeongguk just assumes the older is suggesting they go swimming.

“Hell no I am not stepping foot into the lake in December,” Jeongguk says firmly, yanking Taehyung back away from the water one step.

“No,” Taehyung says, louder, pulling down his scarf. “I said there’s something sparkling in the water.”

“Probably a frozen fish or something, hyung,” Jeongguk tugs on his hand again. “Can we head back? My toes are fucking numb.”

“I wanna see what it is,” Taehyung says, walking up to where the water laps the shore (and tugging Jeongguk along with him). “Here, hold on to me.” 

Taehyung pulls off one glove, tucking it safely in his pocket before linking his still-gloved hand with Jeongguk’s again. Bracing himself, Jeongguk settles back, arm taut, leveraging the older so he doesn’t fall into the water. Leaning over the water, carefully, Taehyung reaches down into the lake and plucks out whatever shiny thing he spotted, because Jeongguk might be dating a secret crow who hordes shiny shit.

And then, because this operation couldn’t possibly go smoothly, Taehyung loses his footing and begins his chaotic descent towards the freezing lake water with a fuck, Guk! Jeongguk yanks, pulling Taehyung back as hard as his arm muscles allow, until they safely (and more importantly, dryly ) land in a heap on the shore a reasonable distance away from the water.

“I hope it was worth it,” Jeongguk says after they’ve had a moment to catch their breath. “What is it?”

Taehyung takes a moment to answer, fitting his glove back on his hand and reaching into the pocket where he’d stored whatever lake item he found. Jeongguk really hopes it’s not a frozen fish, if Taehyung put it in his pocket.

It’s not a fish, thankfully, but it still shocks him just the same to see the diamond encrusted band sitting in Taehyung’s palm.

“Marry me?”

Jeongguk looks between the ring and Taehyung’s hopeful face. Then the lake. And back to the ring. 

Lake. 

Ring. 

Taehyung. 

Ring. 

Taehyung. 

Lake.

“Did you plant that in the lake?” Jeongguk finally asks, incredulous and maybe tearing up a bit (not from the harsh wind this time, though). “You fucker. Did you actually plant a ring in the lake?”

“Obviously,” Taehyung says, his hopeful expression morphing more into desperation. “You think someone would just lose a diamond ring in the lake in the dead of winter?”

“Fuck off, I can’t believe you,” Jeongguk says, still staring at the ring in Taehyung’s hand. 

“Well, fucking believe it, baby,” Taehyung tells him. “You’re it, you’ve always been it, and you’ll always be it. So marry me?”

“Fuck, of course Tae,” he said, rolling his eyes but allowing a tear to escape, falling down his cheek like its own icy droplet. “I’ll marry you.”

“For the record, we tried telling him he should wait until summer, or at least warm weather, before trying that stunt,” Jeongguk’s dad says when they enter the house and pull off their gloves, exposing the ring on Jeongguk’s finger.

“He just said he was too impatient,” his mom says, peering over his dad’s shoulder, adorably too short to see anything clearly. “You’ll have your hands full with him.” Jeongguk just laughs.

“I’ve had my hands full with him since I was five,” he says confidently, pulling Taehyung in close to press a kiss against the older’s still-cold cheek. 

“What can I say?” Taehyung shrugs, smiling widely and returning the kiss. “I knew it’d be worth it to save you from drowning.”