Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

31

It's morning, and Jimin is sitting on Taehyung's bed, leaning against the pillow he wedged between the wall and his back. As expected, Taehyung's room is bright, walls all white and the sunlight seems to never stop pouring inside through the big window on his left. But that's where the white ends.

On the shelves and the desk, even on the closet in the corner of the room, every surface is filled with splashes of colour. Sometimes it's a photograph, sometimes a drawing or a sketch. Jimin knows without asking that all of them were crafted by Taehyung. His gentle touch bleeds into every single splodge of color that catches Jimin’s eye as they wander from one corner of the room to the other.

He stretches his arms upwards and hums in pleasure, feeling the bones crack. Taehyung doesn't react, still situated on the floor. His hair looks even more fluffier than usual, and in some wicked way, Jimin feels enchanted to reach out and check for himself if the curls are just as soft as they appear to be from where he's sitting. He doesn't. Of course, he doesn't, but the wish to do so never disappears.

Taehyung is wearing a pair of grey sweats and a black turtleneck, probably two sizes too big given how loosely it hugs his arms and stomach. All so soft soft soft. What disrupts the impression are the grimaces forming on Taehyung's face now and then, when he forgets, once again, that his right wrist is in a cast, while he attempts to draw on his tablet with his left hand.

Jimin sighs, dragging himself from the bed.

"Taetae."

"Mhm," Taehyung hums with no trace of acknowledging Jimin calling him on his face. Jimin wonders if he really heard him in the first place.

"You were supposed to rest." Jimin moves to the desk, sips on the tea Taehyung persisted to make for him, even though the entire ordeal required more time and pain than it would have if Jimin was allowed to do it himself.

"I am resting," Taehyung pouts, and that's the first time he draws his eyes away from the tablet, trailing to Jimin.

So soft.

Jimin rolls his eyes before he plops down next to Taehyung as his hands wrap around the now cold mug of tea. "Pushing yourself to draw with your left hand isn't what I consider resting. Your doctor would surely agree with me."

Taehyung's eyes flip back to the piece he's been working on, and Jimin tilts his head pensively, not once letting his eyes leave Taehyung's face.

"Jimin."

"Yes."

"Just stay quiet for a bit."

"Why?"

"Just because," It comes with a chuckle, Taehyung's shoulders quivering along as he snickers.

Jimin laughs out loud, steadying himself with his palms, angling his head towards the ceiling. His eyes hide behind the crinkling smile, but Taehyung doesn't look at him. Instead, he smiles down at his hands.

"You're insufferable. Has anyone told you that before?"

"Jungkook. Hoseok sometimes too.” Taehyung shrugs. 

"That's it," Jimin says, abandoning his mug somewhere on the side before he moves behind Taehyung. Before Taehyung can react, Jimin slings his legs around Taehyung's torso, arms following suit. Taehyung feels so soft under his skin. Warm like this little sun in the centre of the galaxy and cuddly like a teddy bear.

"What are you- Jimin? What are you doing?" Taehyung shimmies in Jimin's embrace as he turns his head backwards. He can only catch glances of Jimin, but even so he discerns a smile plastered on the other's lips.

"Protecting your sanity."

"From what?"

"From you, duh," Jimin laughs brilliantly and then tightens his embrace, squeezing a little gasp out of Taehyung.

"You're not even restraining my hand," Taehyung protests when he tries to proceed with his drawing, a smug grin etched into the lines of his face. Unfortunately, Jimin quickly corrects his mistakes and shifts a little closer, readjusting his arms so now they envelop Taehyung's arms as well. Taehyung sighs, resigned, but then his head falls back, right onto Jimin's shoulder. Jimin blinks, feeling Taehyung's hair scratching his cheeks, and the smell of strawberries fans around them like a mist.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait," He says, significantly quieter since Taehyung's ear is so close to his lips. Just out of mischief, he lets out a little bit more air with every word he says. Taehyung reacts accordingly - with a shiver running down his spine.

"For what?" Now Taehyung is whispering too.

"Aren't you tired of asking all these questions all the time?" Jimin settles his chin on Taehyung's shoulder and blows on his ear, happily feeling Taehyung squirm in his embrace.

"I wouldn't have to ask if your actions weren't this questionable."

"You're a know-it-all, huh? What are you hiding in this pretty head of yours, Taehyung-ah?" Jimin nudges the side of Taehyung's head with his forehead, and that's when he realizes where the scent of strawberries comes from. It's Taehyung's hair. Not thinking about it too much, Jimin leans closer, breathing in the sweet smell. One that surprisingly feels so much Taehyung that it fills his lungs to the fullest. Every fibre screams at him that it's too much, but- It's Taehyung, isn't it? Nothing about him should be too much. 

"Just all the secrets of the universe." Jimin sees Taehyung's cheeks jut out from the side, indicating that the other is smiling, and Jimin really wishes there was a way to freeze Time. Especially with how differently it flows for Taehyung. How it tangles around every edge of Taehyung's life and somehow, compresses them to one, tiny entity ready to burst if left enough freedom.

"That you do..."

They let the silence sink in, but there is nothing awkward about it. Taehyung loosens up in Jimin's arms, and his head falls to the side before Jimin's hands start to draw leisure circles on Taehyung's stomach. It's peaceful. Everything about them is, and it still baffles Jimin that he was able to find someone like Taehyung to begin with. Someone who brings peace to where a storm was wreaking havoc before. And it happened so effortlessly too. Now, when Jimin tries to locate the exact moment when Taehyung became one of the most important people in his life, all he sees are blurred lines. Strings entwined with no end or beginning in sight. But even though, Jimin and Taehyung both are caught somewhere in the middle of these knots, nothing feels confining. Jimin doesn't struggle to breathe, his heart doesn't choke with each beat against the threads.

Everything is fine. Peaceful.

"Jimin," Taehyung softly says when sunlight soaks them in its full glory.

"Yes?"

"What is your favourite color?" Jimin bursts out into laughter at the words, and he feels Taehyung's back shake with his own share of it in his chest.

"Blue," Jimin says when his voice finally regains its velvety sound instead of breathily fighting for air.

"You're talking to an artist. I need something more specific than that." That's when Taehyung plants his palm onto Jimin's knuckles, slots his fingers with the empty spaces between Jimin's. It's almost symbolic how their hands complete each other so perfectly. No emptiness. Just fullness of emotions.

"Let me think," Jimin says when an indulgent smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "What is your favourite color then?"

"Grey." Taehyung provides him with an answer in a heartbeat.

So fucking cute. So soft.

Warm , barges in inside Jimin's mind, but warmth is a dangerous feeling. Close to comfort and love. To attachment. And as much as Jimin knows that some of these big big words are already imprinted onto his and Taehyung's relationship, it feels like acknowledging the gentle warmth building underneath his ribcage would take things too far.

"Grey? But that's such a sad color," Jimin pouts with a click of his tongue.

"Never thought of it as sad."

"Elaborate."

A second or two pass before Taehyung's low baritone reaches Jimin's ears. It sticks to his skin like honey. "It's just in between everything else. Grey is what every other color becomes if you take its vibrancy away. They're all grey in the end. I think there's something bewitching about it."

My Taehyung, Jimin thinks. My beautiful beautiful soul.

And there is no way for him not to feel like this - like Taehyung's very being was knitted out of stars and happiness of the bare existence untouched by worries or joys. In Jimin's head it makes sense for Taehyung to see the world through a lens of his own unique perspective, painting every shade with a thought, an emotion that is inherently his.

It makes sense. Makes sense to feel the way Jimin feels when he listens to his answer. Takes it in.

"It still sounds a little sad to me."

"All beautiful things are a little sad at their core."

"Pretty," Jimin leans towards Taehyung so that he can see his eyes. "Who said that?"

"Me," Taehyung grins smugly in retort.

Jimin, once again, can't help but laugh, and while he swats Taehyung's arm in an act of payback, Taehyung reclines, filling up all the empty spaces that divided his back from Jimin's chest. For a second, a tiny second that could not even exist, that's how short it is, Jimin feels Taehyung's heart hammer throughout his body, frantic pulse spreading like a wildfire. But then the impression is gone. Forlorn in the recesses of his mind, for whatever reason.

"So? What kind of blue do you fancy?" Taehyung asks, dropping his voice an octave lower.

Of course, it makes Jimin giggle. "Stop it."

When Taehyung hums affirmatively, Jimin whispers: "You know how I'm from Busan, right?"

"Yes."

"When I think of blue, all that comes to my mind is the sea," Jimin says, getting lost in the blue waves crashing in the corners of his vision, of the sun and heat of the sunlight on his skin. All the while, his hands play with Taehyung's fingers, twisting them and kneading like clay. "When I was younger I used to ditch classes sometimes with my friends to just run along the beach, feel the sun on my skin. It was the prettiest when the sky was just blue. No clouds, just blue."

They both hear the longing in Jimin's words. The sense of wishing for something not here, withered and forgotten. Except that forgotten it wasn't. In Jimin's words, the memories lived on, reverberated where they had to in order to seep right to Taehyung. They don't know it, but nostalgia is blooming in both of their hearts. Probably for slightly different things, but things that in the end irritated all the same.

"It sounds beautiful." Taehyung's voice is soft in every way it can as he finally responds - the letters puffy and pauses mellow.

"It was," Jimin smiles at the blue under his eyelids as he closes his eyes. "You know, sometimes it was hard to notice where the sky and sea ended and where the other began. I liked that a lot. Looked special back then."

"It's a bummer there is no sea in Seoul."

Taehyung shifts slightly, but Jimin's arms never let go of him. They only adjust, soaking up the comfort ceaselessly emanating from Taehyung's body.

"It is. We should go someday. Just imagine- you, me, the sea and all the times I throw you in the water when you least expect it."

Taehyung chuckles wholeheartedly. "Sounds good to me. Sounds fun."

"So fun."

Jimin hears Taehyung swallow before he says, "Can you let go of me now? My wrist is starting to hurt."

"Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry," Jimin backs away immediately, hurriedly unwrapping his arms from around Taehyung's waist. How didn't he think of it before? Stupid.

"Don't be."

Taehyung slings his legs together, so that now he's sitting cross-legged, and then turns towards Jimin, the two now face to face. Jimin plays with his fingers nervously, but still reciprocates the smile that flashes over Taehyung's face.

"You don't have to apologize to me," Taehyung says first, but then he presses his lips into a thin line. It's so different from the smile that just graced his face that Jimin furrows his brows, concerned. Taehyung looks dejected. "Ever."

"There is no way I won't take advantage of that in the future," Jimin tries to cheer the other up with a joke, and it works. Taehyung brightens up right away. At least a little. "You shouldn't have said that, Taetae."

"But I had to. I really did."

It comes with a smile, one that looks genuine enough, but even so, despite everything, Taehyung's voice is drowning in clouds. Jimin doesn't understand where the sadness comes from. How to chase it back to the hole it crept out of.

But right now, he just nods, smiles. Does his best.

"I'll make you tea."

"But-"

"I. Will. Make. You. Tea."

The clouds disperse, and Jimin feels proud that he made it happen. Still, deep in his bones he knows there's a storm coming. One that both of them cannot escape.

32

You see, when Jimin is with Taehyung, nothing seems to matter all that much. Jimin’s thoughts slumber somewhere in the back of his head, and the here and now bleeds into every fibre of his body, living as if this one second in which he exists was all he’ll ever get.

These moments, with just Jimin and Taehyung, they are the reason why it’s so easy to forget that there are other things they should worry about. 

For example, that one of them feels while the other doesn’t. Or that dying suddenly no longer incorporates all that’s far away.

These things… These things haunt Jimin only when he’s alone, inside his own little universe of ceaseless worries, unperturbed by just a little bigger universe of Taehyung. 

Because, like every one of us, Jimin is okay. Until he’s not.

33

Jimin seizes up his reflection in the mirror. He's wearing a black oversized sweatshirt and a pair of skinny jeans, all complemented by a red beanie from under which of his black hair cascades upon his forehead. He looks good. Always does, and he isn't ashamed to be aware of it. But today he looks a tiny bit better. 

It's been five days since he last met Taehyung, and frankly, it feels like the gravity of everything that happened in the last two weeks finally pulled him in. Taehyung is sick. Or rather his heart is. But he's here, he's alive. He's just as Taehyung as he ever was, and Jimin knows that it's far too late to brace his heart for the worst case scenario. Taehyung has become too important, taking roots in the cracks of Jimin's heart where hollow emptiness lodged itself.

And it's hard to make his peace with it, because- How does one manage to say goodbye without saying it out loud? All of a sudden, Jimin understands why Hoseok reacted the way he did. Why the dozens of goodbyes he already said never felt like enough, like a story that just started but never got a proper ending. 

It's scary, and Jimin is scared, too. That's probably why he decided to surprise Taehyung with something new. Something Jimin knows he will remember forever. In the back of his head there's a voice telling him it's just another form of distraction, but maybe that's okay, too. His grandma once said that the stars shine for people to look up when the ground doesn't let them fly, and it makes sense now. It's all about not thinking, seeing the beauty where there is none, and finding it where its shades cast a light too bright to look at.

He nods curtly to his reflection in encouragement and the other Jimin replicates the gesture. It draws a soft smile to his lips before he turns away and makes his way to the table to fetch his phone. He quickly picks the right number and waits the excruciating seven seconds for Taehyung to pick up with a raspy "Hello?".

"Taehyung-ah!" Jimin greets him cheerfully. "Meet me at Itaewon station, yeah? Exit 5."

First comes the rustling, then Taehyung's voice, utterly surprised, but with a tinge of excitement laced within. "But why?"

"Cause I say so," Jimin laughs, threading his fingers through his bangs in front of the mirror. "Promise, you won't regret it."

A silence.

"I can be there in fifty minutes," Taehyung finally says, and this time he just sounds like a happy puppy. Jimin smiles to himself, imagining the man rush excitedly from one corner of his room to the other, collecting all of the essential items he wanted to take to the meeting. 

"Perfect!" Jimin says, taking one last glance at his reflection before he grabs his phone and leaves the apartment empty. 

It’s rush hour, so Jimin decides to take a subway instead of a bus. Luckily, the nearest station is no further away than five minutes of a walk that extends to seven, because Jimin spontaneously chooses to stop by the bakery to buy some bulgogi bread for him and Taehyung in case they get hungry. And he doesn’t think about it too much either. It’s just bread. Just one more time he wants to take care of Taehyung even though it’s such a small gesture that there’s probably not much weight to it at all.

On the subway, he zones out. A person or two shoot him a displeased look whenever their eyes meet, because nowadays you’re supposed to keep your eyes on the screen of your phone, not let them roam freely from the soft edges of others’ faces to the dark square of a window behind them. He always politely smiles in return, but it’s all a little mischievous. It's like he shows superiority by remaining as polite as he can.

He lives in Jongno, so the ride to Itaewon takes him a bit. Long enough for his thoughts to roam freely. Even if most of them course in the same direction - back to the look on Taehyung's face on that day in the hospital and how Jimin has no idea what to make out of it. It bordered on something dangerously close to disappointment. Jimin never thought he would be the culprit behind anything close to disappointment in Taehyung's life. It stings. More than he'd be comfortable with. And it's the exact same stinging in his heart that pulls at his strings right now, while his vision blurs.

Taehyung might not have time to feel disappointed or hurt. Isn't it the entire point of never knowing when you may die? The certainty that people around you will at least attempt to shelter you from these ugly, ugly feelings?

Jimin just wants Taehyung to have more time. More happiness. More everything. Maybe a little more of Jimin, too. 

He lets his hands curl into fists, and waits. He transfers, checks the comments under the post where he asked for recommendations of places an art lover would be impressed by.

The bitterness of everything hits him just as unexpectedly and vehemently as the rain showers during the rainy season. Even though he's not soaked, he feels a little bit like drowning. 

34

They meet at exit 5, just like Jimin instructed. Despite the cold, there are people roaming around. This being Itaewon, it's not really that surprising. Already at the first glance, Taehyung sticks out like a sore thumb in his brown coat and a flowery shirt underneath that isn't all that visible thanks to the thick grey scarf that successfully robs his body of his neck.

Jimin shoots him one of his signature eye smiles as he runs up to him.

"Hi."

Taehyung smiles back, lifting his immobilized hand in a greeting. His hair grew a lot since we met for the first time , crosses Jimin's head.

"Hello. Now please," Taehyung mumbles, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Jimin thrives when even despite the feigned annoyance he makes out curiosity latched somewhere in between, too. "explain to me what we are doing here."

"Why so grumpy," Jimin pouts with a roll of his eyes, to which Taehyung reacts by bumping Jimin's shoulder with his healthy hand. Jimin, like the person he is, doesn't budge.

"Good morning, Jimin-ah!," Taehyung exclaims then, summoning the brightest of his smiles. He even rocks on his heels like a big baby Jimin always knew he was. "Now please tell me why you told me to get here with my wrist still in a cast."

Jimin takes a step back, looks up at Taehyung as he gnaws at his bottom lip, and lets his excitement wash over his eyes. Taehyung always pays the most attention to the eyes.

"We're going on an adventure," Jimin explains proudly.

"Adventure."

"Adventure, yes." Jimin juts his chin in defiance, only waiting for Taehyung to object, but nothing like this happens. Instead, Taehyung takes a glance at the sky, clear and more white than blue, and then smiles. This time completely genuinely, with no trace of theatrics.

"Lead the way." The way he says it - with honey on his lips and confidence in the burning of his eyes, makes something inside Jimin churn like a windmill. Round and round and round until his organs are but a disarray of strings and patches of skin squeezed together. And as morbid as it sounds, Jimin loves every pull.

"You won't regret it! I promise!" He almost jumps with excitement. He grabs Taehyung's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"You already said so, yeah." Taehyung says from the side, but Jimin hears him smiling. How amazing is it to know someone well enough to know they smile without just as much as a glance sent in their direction?

For a while, they don't say anything, and Jimin does his best to quickly find his way through the streets way too crowded to feel intimate. He sees foreigners, Indian restaurants and Koreans who look as if they sprang out of a fashion magazine. He feels Taehyung's hand in his. On the spot where his thumb meets Taehyung's skin, there's a rough surface that Jimin knows to be a splodge of paint that Taehyung forgot to wash off before leaving.

And for a slight of a second it makes sense to Jimin that Taehyung is all color under the white sky of Seoul.

"Why are you so grumpy today?" He finally asks when they take a turn and find themselves on a street with fewer people than before. There's a European bakery that they pass, and the smell of freshly baked bread reminds Jimin of the bulgogi bread that he bought for them on his way. He hands one to Taehyung wordlessly. There is no "Thank you" that follows, because they're way past the point of thanking each other - they both know they feel grateful well enough.

As Taehyung munches slowly on the bread, Jimin realizes once more how close they've gotten in the past few months. How just like winter comes slowly to an end, so will the spring mould their friendship into something even more beautiful. Maybe even just as colorful as Taehyung's very presence.

Taehyung takes one more bite before he replies. "Had a fight with Hoseok hyung."

Jimin sizes him up, seeing only Taehyung's profile from the side. Along the white embrace of light outlining the curves of his cheeks and nose, there's something darkening the bright patches of happiness plastered onto his face on any other day. But he doesn't look sad. Maybe a little worked up , Jimin decides.

"Is everything alright? We don't have to go! We can just sit down in a café or something."

"No, actually I could use a distraction," Taehyung shakes his head before he tilts it towards Jimin, flashing one of his boxy smiles, making sure, Jimin interprets, that Jimin knows he wants to be here just as much as Jimin does. "So adventure it is. And it's nothing big. He just wants me to take it easy. To take everything easy. Especially after the injury. I feel like he would prefer it if I just paused my entire life and stopped living whatsoever."

"He's worried," Jimin says, giving Taehyung's hand one big squeeze. He slows down, prodding Taehyung to follow suit, so that now they're more strolling than walking in what Jimin hopes is the right direction.

"And I get that. Trust me, I do. But it's suffocating sometimes." Taehyung sounds tired. The kind of tired when you haven't slept for days, and trying to fall asleep renders even more draining than accepting the problem. And Jimin can't say he understands, but having seen Hoseok in the hospital, having talked to Jungkook - it makes perfect sense.

Love is a beautiful thing. It can be the most beautiful thing in one's life, even. But in all stories, Jimin learned, beautiful things tend to encapsulate all that's rotten. And at some point, their beauty fades away, the rot being all that's left behind.

"I can only imagine, Tae. But he loves you. Loves you so much, I know he does. I saw it in his eyes when he was about to punch me for letting you get hurt that night," Jimin says, while he pulls at Taehyung's hand when a car appears in front of them. "He's pretty scary, huh?"

They both laugh at that.

"I know, I know. Sometimes I just need a break."

"That's why you have me."

Jimin smiles at Taehyung, the only way he can, with sun spilling through his lips and warmth cascading over Taehyung's skin. Taehyung's look wavers, steps become slower. Not for long. Just enough so that Jimin notices the shift, but too short for him to really perceive it.

"That's why... why I have you." Taehyung smiles back, but instead of honey on his lips, there are clouds swathing his face.

Something breaks. Jimin doesn't know what it is, or if the snapping sound emanates from within his head, but he hears it all the same. Feels the rumbling spread all over his chest like a thunder cutting the sky in two.

He doesn't want the hurt. Doesn't want the broken. So he pushes it all back inside. And in this slight of a second when Jimin locks it away, Taehyung speeds up even though he doesn't know the way, and Jimin presses his lips into a thin line, getting used to the unsaid.

They're okay. Everything is okay, just like it was before.

The sky is white, clouds covering the blue like a lampshade. 

When they turn into one more alley, they're forced to walk up the hill. Jimin instinctively slows down and pulls at Taehyung to adjust his pace. Even though Taehyung might claim he's alright and his heart won't stop beating just because of a little physical strain, Jimin's not about to hazard Taehyung's health for the fun of it.

"How far?" Taehyung asks, his breath shallow from the effort.

"Just a little bit."

"That's what you said ten times before when I asked you," Taehyung groans, making Jimin laugh.

"And I will say it again if you won't stop acting like a grumpy cat."

As if to prove Jimin right, Taehyung makes a face that could just as well as belong to one very grumpy cat.

"Okay!" Jimin calls as he drags Taehyung towards the last turn. "One more turn and we're there!"

Once they walk from behind the small two storey building, what greets them is an ocean of color. Reds and blues fight each other in a conglomeration of shapes, and the greens snake around the yellow like vines. Jimin did his research. He saw pictures of the graffiti street on the internet, but even he, who's far from an art enthusiast, finds himself at a loss of words.

He hears Taehyung gasp. When he turns to survey his reaction, Taehyung entangles his fingers from Jimin's, taking a few steps towards the street.

The graffiti is painted on every possible surface allowing the paint to stick. The walls of the buildings, the street and the thin lines of the street lights. Everything is drowning in colors, and if the sky turned out to show some traces of the art underneath, Jimin wouldn't be surprised at all.

"What- What is this?" Taehyung sounds stunned. Out of breath. He walks to one of the houses on his left and lets his fingertips graze over the surface as if touching the colors would make him soak them up. 

"Art," Jimin says a little sheepishly. "I thought you may like it."

Taehyung turns around, wide-eyed. Jimin smiles at him, because he can't stop himself. Just like he can't control his legs when they take him back to Taehyung's side. “It's wonderful. Holy shit. It's- I wish I could die right here and now just so it's the last thing I see."

Jimin stumbles over his thoughts, his legs. He just shuts down. The amazement in Taehyung's eyes should be an indication enough that it wasn't meant the way Jimin's brain took it in, but-

"Taehyung-"

"Look at this one! It's so beautiful!" Taehyung exclaims, and then he's gone to examine another painting.

Jimin forgets the dread. 

(Being around Taehyung made him an expert in forgetting.)

"It is!"

"And this one there! And oh my god, look there!"

Taehyung jumps from one corner to the other, completely disregarding the few people admiring the art scattered here and there. Jimin never saw him this alive. It's like watching a flower grow on a time lapse video. One second, and it bursts in all its glory of colors. Taehyung looks like he's exploding in rainbows on loop.

"I knew you'll like it," Jimin says, following the other around.

"Like it? I love it. God, I- Jimin?"

"Mhm?" 

Even before Taehyung can say anything, Jimin hears it. The snap. The shatter.

"You're the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me."

"Oh." Taehyung's eyes glisten with adoration. With happiness Jimin doesn't know how to absorb. "Uhm. Thank you? Haha you're pretty wonderful yourself, Taetae."

And then Taehyung's body clashes onto his, his arms wrapping around Jimin with the force of a baby bear, and Jimin loves every second of it. He does. But he knows it's not enough. It's not the kind of loving Taehyung deserves.

"I wish I could stop time," Jimin hears him whisper after he plops his chin down onto his arm, so that his lips brush over the crook of Jimin’s neck.

"Why is that?" Jimin whispers back.

"Just to feel this way forever."

Jimin feels Taehyung's heartbeat hammer in his chest, the rhythm pulsating against his own rib cage. He wishes time could stand still for this one second, because he's happy, too. He wants to feel nothing but that, nothing but overwhelming, undying happiness. He wants it so bad. But the sound of the world shattering around doesn't let him.

He hugs Taehyung back.

35

It's already dark outside, and the light from Seokjin's laptop placed on his lap is the only thing keeping him and Yoongi away from drowning in darkness. Seokjin doesn't know how Yoongi sees anything in his notebook without a lamp on, but he stopped asking two hours ago when the only answer he got was a wordless groan laced with annoyance.

He huffs, checking his email once more. No messages from his father, which is good. As long as he doesn't contact him, it means that Seokjin hasn't messed up at work, and for someone with standards as high as Seokjin's father, not messing up is the greatest achievement one can strive for.

Jimin is not home, so it leaves the two of them in a tranquil silence that only the typing on Seokjin's keyboard disrupts. It was pleasant three hours ago, but now Seokjin feels like he’s suffocating.

"I'm bored," he sighs into the darkness of the ceiling, laying on the sofa with his knees drawn up.

"Watch something," Yoongi murmurs, sitting by the table in the part of the living room serving as the kitchen. His pen makes the sound of crossing out one more word in his notebook. It's the only accompaniment to the silence around them.

"I don't want to."

"Then order food?"

"We just ate," Seokjin reminds him, pointing at the plates on the coffee table even though Yoongi can't see him with his back turned towards him.

"Hyung, I have to work on this. C an't it wait?"

"I've been hanging out with your TV for the last two hours. I came here to hang out with you ."

Seokjin hears him shift in his seat. "I can't just stop working because you're here."

And no, Yoongi doesn't sound annoyed. Seokjin thinks he'd prefer it if he did. What he finds in Yoongi's words is a combination of despair and tiredness, and that's all he needs to know to get up and move slowly towards Yoongi's hunched posture.

"Of course you can," he says on his way, and when he plants his hands on Yoongi's shoulders, the other isn't startled. He just folds in on himself, as if he tried to turn himself into an origami crane.

Seokjin sighs deeply. He squeezes his shoulder and bends forward, reaching for Yoongi's notebook over his head. While doing so, Yoongi's head presses against his stomach in a way Seokjin would prefer not to enjoy.

"You've been staring at it the entire day. Let your eyes rest."

"I have a deadline," Yoongi interjects without meaning it. Seokjin chuckles.

"Which is in a week. Take a break. Come on. We can sit on the couch in the darkness. Just the way you like it.”

"You make me sound like a moth." Seokjin doesn't have to turn around when he drags Yoongi to the couch to make sure that the other is pouting. He can hear it in his voice well enough.

"Cause you're pretty close to being one."

"Okay, okay. I'm coming."

They both sit down, Seokjin in the furthest corner of the sofa, giving Yoongi enough space to lay down. He doesn't expect Yoongi to rest his head on his lap, so when he does, he cannot help but let out a stifled yelp. Yoongi smiles smugly with his eyes closed.

"One more win for Team Seokjin."

"Stop saying that," Yoongi mumbles. He crosses his arms on his chest and Seokjin watches it fall and lift with every one of his breaths.

What would it feel like to sleep with his head on it?

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Cause you sound like an idiot."

"You love me, Yoongi-ya. Just admit it," dares Seokjin as he lets his fingers thread through Yoongi's silky hair. Out of the three of them, he's the only one who hasn't dyed his hair yet, so the strands feel strong and thick under Seokjin's fingertips. Yoongi moves just slightly, a little closer to Seokjin's touch.

"I do."

To hear this stings in the best and worst ways all the same, but Seokjin will take everything Yoongi can give him. He figures, some kinds of pain hurt less than the others, and this doesn't seem to hurt all that much. So why not?

"I know," he says, meaning it with all of his heart. It's not Yoongi's fault, it's not the kind of love that bloomed inside his own chest, too stubborn to wither. "Where's Jimin anyway?"

"Where else could he be?" Yoongi laughs. "With the Taehyung kid."

"It's weird that we haven't met him yet," Seokjin ponders.

"Yeah... Do you think they're... you know? "

Seokjin bursts into laughter at the word choice. When his hand starts to tremble too much for Yoongi's liking, the other swats at it gently. "In love, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Don't think so. At least Jimin doesn't seem to be."

"I don't think I would know even if he was," Yoongi says, scratching at his temple. "In all the years I knew him, he never fell for anyone."

Seokjin lowers his eyes. To the softness of Yoongi's cheeks and pouty lips that can cut just as much as they soothe. And then he watches.

"Once, he almost did. For me."

"You two were a thing?" All at once, Yoongi's eyes fly open and his lips morph into a confused circle. Seokjin smiles at him vainly. It's just the reaction he was expecting.

"Sort of? When we were eighteen and figuring stuff out. You know our parents were friends for years already, so naturally we became close, too. But it was just sex. All fun, no feelings attached. Jimin wanted to stop, cause he liked us more as friends."

"And you?" Yoongi's voice comes after a heartbeat of silence. Enough time for Seokjin to recall all the what ifs that Jimin seeded inside his head. What if what if what if - like a clock.

"Me? It was just fun, but I think we both knew it was time to stop. We wanted different things."

And it's true. While Seokjin knew from the very beginning what it is he wanted, and that that desire just shifted to something else, someone else , Jimin was meandering in the shadows of his heart's wants. He still is, Seokjin thinks. That's why remaining by his side as a friend was this much more valuable. Because Jimin needed him, and Seokjin needed someone to hold onto.

"What is it that you wanted hyung?" Yoongi's words come out as a whisper. And maybe that's why Seokjin easily finds the courage to let the honesty shine through.

"What everyone wants," he smiles, but it's a sad smile. "To be loved in that consuming kind of way that leaves you broken inside from how happy you are."

"And? Did you find it?" Does Yoongi sound hopeful?

Seokjin looks down at Yoongi. At his closed eyes and pretty lips, and soft edges emulating the softness of his heart. It aches, but it also feels just right. Having Yoongi feels like the only thing he could ever need.

"In more ways than one."

"I love you, hyung."

"I love you, too, Yoongi-ya."

Then Yoongi falls asleep. And Seokjin? Seokjin doesn't move, afraid that if he does, this moment will end just as abruptly as the end of a cassette. And if he learned anything from Yoongi, it’s that the best melodies are bound to end one way or another.

36

"I'm telling you, Kook. You should've seen it," Taehyung sighs happily, leaning against the sofa in Jungkook's apartment with his legs sprawled out on the floor. He can feel Jungkook breathe against his neck, the man positioned on the cushions behind him.

"You could just take me with you the next time you go there, you know," Jungkook says, his voice laced with traces of apathy. Not a good sign, Taehyung notes for himself.

"But its not the same. Or at least it won't be for me. Seeing it for the first time? All these colors and paintings- It was amazing." Just saying it summons the memory of the painted street from the back of Taehyung's head straight to under his eyelids. When he closes them, the colors and shapes look just as vibrant as before. So much so that Taehyung has to resist the urge to reach out and touch the paint, get some of it under his fingernails like a peculiar kind of souvenir.

Jungkook nudges Taehyung's shoulder with his knee for no reason at all. Taehyung gasps, his hand covering the spot protectively. Then, Jungkook presses the start button on the controller and the game he's been playing for the last three hours comes back to life, filling the room with the blue light of the ocean Jungkook's character has been fighting against all this time.

Taehyung knows it should be around 10pm, and yet - in Jungkook's apartment time seems to cease existing. No matter the time, it's always soaked in the semi-darkness of the pulled curtains in a color that reminds Taehyung of starless skies. And if he was anywhere close to being a poet, maybe he'd reason that Jungkook's starry eyes are sky enough to fit inside one room.

"So Jimin found that place for you?" Jungkook asks, casually, never really darting his eyes away from the TV.

"Looks like it," Taehyung nods as he fetches some of the candies scattered on the table.

"Hyung."

"Yeah?" It's a good thing Taehyung doesn't say more than this, cause with his mouth full of cotton candy, his words get stifled inside his throat before they can find their shape.

"Please don’t get your hopes up."

Maybe it would feel better (or maybe worse) if Jungkook bothered to stop the game and throw Taehyung a look. Even a glance would be enough. But he doesn't. He keeps on playing, his lips pressed into a thin line out of distress while his character loses his last life. Taehyung swivels in his seat, so that now he's sitting cross-legged and opposite Jungkook. Why? Taehyung isn't exactly sure. In this odd way, lying to Jungkook face to face seems like the least he can do. 

"I don't know what you mean." 

Jungkook stops the game before throwing the controller to the side. This time when his eyes zero on Taehyung, they descend heavily onto his shoulders. Their weight makes it hard for him to breathe, but he withstands it, because Jungkook eyes are kind kind kind, and he knows that the heaviness is instilled by his own thoughts rather than Jungkook's.

"You know exactly what I mean," Jungkook says, his voice a little softer on the edges. "It's all over your face."

As if to prove his point, Jungkook gestures towards Taehyung's face, sporting a pained look. Years of evading death seem to have an effect on Taehyung's avoiding skills, because before Jungkook can even shoot him an incredulous look, Taehyung pulls at the strings of his hood, making his face disappear behind a layer of grey fabric.

"There is no face to look at," he mumbles, only hearing Jungkook's sigh.

"I just-"

"Can we talk about something else?"

"But I just-"

"Please."

And Taehyung do esn't know what it is that melts Jungkook's resolve - the despair that he tries to cover up with whatever feeling he can come up with at the moment, or the frantic look on his face signalling to everyone who knows him that he's this close to let the tears brim over the lines of his eyes.

Perhaps it's both. Perhaps Jungkook recognizes a lost cause when he sees one.

Taehyung certainly feels like one. Or he's just lost. He likes to keep this option open.

"Sure," Jungkook says eventually, continuing with his game. "I finished that project I was working on."

"The website?" Taehyung's voice sounds clearer after he loosens up the strings around the hood, so that now Jungkook could actually see his face if he wanted to. However, Taehyung still keeps the hood on. It feels safe. In a way that his heart no longer does considering all the feelings that simmer within, its flames licking the skin that has never been rendered fireproof.

"Mhm," Jungkook hums noncommittally. "It’s finally done. Got some good money for it. If you want, we can go to karaoke and sing our pain away."

"What pain?" Taehyung giggles, throwing a shrimp chip at Jungkook. It hits his nose, but the man doesn't even wince. Taehyung rolls his eyes. "You just got paid. What is there to be dying over?"

"Everything is to be dying over, hyung, if you let it," Jungkook deadpans, and Taehyung's heartbeat freezes like a bird that just died.

"Oh my god."

"How do I get you every time," Jungkook laughs and laughs, and then laughs some more. He wraps his arms around his stomach and drops to the side, hiding his face in the cushions. Taehyung would be upset. He really would, but this laughter? It's worth every dying bird.

"But you’re okay? All bad thoughts in check?"

Jungkook takes a second to calm down. The game plays in the background abandoned, but none of them pay it much attention. "As much as I can control them, yeah. They’re not as loud these days. Distractions help."

"I'm sorry I didn't visit you as often."

"Don't worry about it," Jungkook says, swatting Taehyung's concerns away like a bunch of flies. "Hoseok hyung was here almost every day."

"He was?" The words are accompanied by a very suggestive wiggle of Taehyung's eyebrows. Jungkook throws the same shrimp chip that was aimed at him before in Taehyung's direction. Taehyung doesn't fight the hoot of laughter that bubbles in his throat at the mopey look on Jungkook's face.

"God, can you just shut up?"

"Hey, but-" This time a pillow hits Taehyung straight in the face.

"You don't want to talk about Jimin. I don't want to talk about Hoseok." While saying this, Jungkook's eyes are no longer levelled on Taehyung's. The exact second the first word leaves his mouth, he averts Taehyung's eyes by focusing on the ceiling and the fan spinning and spinning, always experiencing the same journey.

"But why?"

"I just don't."

Taehyung understands. Oh, wouldn't he be a hypocrite if he didn't. It would be so easy. To confess. He would invite Jimin somewhere nice, somewhere where his light shines even brighter and each smile resembles its own sun in the middle of a bursting galaxy. He would take Jimin's hand in his, because his hands are the only thing Taehyung is convinced to ever want to hold onto. He would say the words, and then-

That's when the illusion ends. There is no happy ending for them, not even in Taehyung's own imagination, because Jimin isn't ready. Or maybe he just doesn't feel the same way, and that's okay. He never lied to try. He wanted to be friends, so why does Taehyung want more? More light and lips like waxing moons. More giggles and soft skin, and sun spilling on his face, because there's no way Jimin can contain it all in his petite body. He wants it all.

Among the two of them, Taehyung is the one who lies. So yes - he understands the complexity of not being able to say the words.

“You know Hoseok loves you.”

"I know."

"So what’s the problem?" Taehyung asks, hoping that Jungkook's heart is not bound to break just like his own.

"Why don't you confess to Jimin, hyung?" Jungkook huffs, annoyed.

"I-"

"Exactly," Jungkook says. He sounds sad. Perhaps the saddest Taehyung has ever heard him. "It's not as simple as you make it out to be. I don't even know what I feel, because my head is a fucking mess.”

Taehyung lets the silence encompass them for a moment long enough to soothe the pains of loving that, now he knows, is not unfamiliar to Jungkook, too. In a way, it feels good to not be the only one in a limbo, with no sense of up and down, or of what to feel and what to smother.

He reaches towards Jungkook and puts his hand on the man's knee, squeezing not so gently. Jungkook jerks his leg away, but there's a smile on his face, just as smug as always, when he kicks Taehyung's arm away.

"I'm sorry I pushed."

"It's okay."

"Do you want to play?"

"You can't even use both hands. It's like letting me win."

"I am letting you win."

"I’m so gonna crush you.”

37 

If Taehyung had to choose one single reason why the hurting didn’t hurt so bad, he would choose Jungkook, and Hoseok, and Jimin’s eyes morphing into crescents when Taehyung smiled at him. And a dozen other things Jimin, because having Jimin like that was better than not having him at all.

And so, Taehyung hurts. But when he doesn’t, the happiness washing over him transcends everything in between. 

38

It's been three days since Jimin showed the street in Itaewon to Taehyung. The weather is still just as cold, and Jimin's prickling cheeks are proof enough that winter has settled in for good. Of course, there's a certain charm to the streets dressed in snowy cloaks and the cold pinching his skin whenever he just as much as thinks about going outside, but still - Jimin misses spring.

On his way inside the coffee shop, he fetches his phone from the pocket of his coat and quickly checks the date. 11th of December. Nineteen days till Taehyung's birthday.

He's greeted by a polite smile of the waitress who beckons him to the counter, suggesting the seasonal black sugar drinks. While he orders, he keeps on looking over his shoulder, scanning the occupied tables. Just when he thinks Namjoon hasn't arrived yet, he sees his brown mop of hair in the farthest corner of the coffee shop. Jimin would lie if he named the hair as the thing he recognized Namjoon by. If it wasn't for the beige sweater emblazoned with symbols Jimin cannot quite decipher, he would probably call his friend, mostly confused, because what he learned about Namjoon so far is that he's always on time.

Once the girl with bleached hair and a coffee stain on her shirt hands Jimin his drink, he hurriedly waltzes his way to Namjoon.

"Hi, Namjoon hyung," Jimin sing-songs, settling across the table. Namjoon's dimples greet him as they resurface from underneath the layers of the man's smile.

"How are you?" Namjoon never allows his gaze to retreat from where Jimin's face is, and Jimin almost laughs when he tries to stir his coffee and fails, not measuring the distance correctly as he hits with the spoon against the table.

"Good!" Jimin says after he took a sip of his sugary latte. The sweetness prickles on his tongue, and he licks his lips. He misses the way Namjoon lowers his eyes at the sight. "It was just a busy day. Lots of practice."

"You should let me see you dance sometime," Namjoon says pensively, only to freeze in terror once what he said reaches his ears. "If that’s okay, of course. Don't worry if you don’t-"

"Hyung," Jimin stops him before he spirals into his cute, but unnecessary breakdown. Namjoon's eyes widen and Jimin decides to mend his jagged nerves by laying his hand on top of Namjoon's. "Relax. I don't mind. I'll let you know when we have the next showcase."

"Please do," is all Namjoon says, before he takes a big sip from his plastic cup.

(And if he doesn't dare to move his hand in fear of Jimin retreating his, then well...)

"I saw you deleted your dating profile?"

"Yeah," Namjoon mumbles. He rubs at the back of his neck in awkwardness, while Jimin gives his hand one good squeeze. "I don't think it's for me."

"Really?" Jimin arches an eyebrow. Since he's sitting with his back to the window, the lines of his body are illuminated in the white light streaming from outside, and in this very stupid way Namjoon's brain works, he can't help but compare him to an actual angel.

He wishes he could say that without freaking Jimin out.

"I think I'm too big of a romantic to allow myself to fall in love like that," he says instead.

Jimin's face creases into a lopsided smile. "So you want all the fanfares from romcoms?"

"Who doesn’t?"

"Me."

Jimin sticks his chin out in a sign of defiance, but Namjoon only shakes his head with a wholehearted smile. Jimin, who got all tensed up in expectation, loosens up, wrapping his fingers around his drink.

(Namjoon silently weeps in the confinement of his head.)

"Do you really hate love this much?"

"I just never felt it." Jimin shrugs. "How can I crave for something I never felt before. I'd have to be an idiot."

Namjoon nods, a pensive look plastered onto his face. "There’s a study proving that people in love lose 10% of their intelligence."

"Which only shows that I'm right."

"Maybe," Namjoon hums while circling his finger around the brim of his cup, a certain revery etched into his features. "Maybe one day you'll change your mind."

"Maybe I will. Maybe not." Jimin's voice sounds strained when the words slip through his lips. His eyes drop to his hands, lips tighten, pressing against each other.

"Both are definitely okay," Namjoon offers quickly.

"They are. How are your bonsai trees?"

Sensing the deliberate change of topic, Namjoon plays along, even if shyly at first.

"Uhm. They're…okay."

"Hyung." Jimin wiggles his eyebrows. Places his elbow on the table to then plop his chin onto the palm of his hand. "I know you're dying to show me their photos."

"Can I?"

Namjoon looks so adorable with his eyes now wide open and fingers gently wringing the skin on his arm as he bashfully looks up. Jimin smiles wider, making his vision diminish even more. 

That’s what you get when your eyes can’t help but disappear whenever you as much as think about smiling.

"Of course. I told you before, hyung. You can talk to me about anything. I won't ever ridicule you. Promise.”

They spend the next two hours talking until Namjoon checks his phone and realizes that his friend is already waiting for him. Jimin identifies traces of disappointment where his thoughts meet his heart, and in this space in between everything that matters, he covers them up with warmth that he absorbed from Namjoon. It's not their last meeting, and there's nothing indicating that it could be. The very presence of these feelings make Jimin feel uneasy.

They dexterously gather their cups and the plate from the cake Namjoon purchased some time ago, and bring all of them piled up to the counter. The girl smiles at them, more at Jimin than Namjoon, and they leave.

Jimin's about to say goodbye and check his bus connection when Namjoon grabs hold of his arm, steadying him right next to himself. Jimin's lashes flicker curiously. Namjoon swallows, as if preparing his throat for the words that are already bubbling in his chest.

"I really like you, Jimin-ah," he says finally.

Jimin exhales in relief.

"I like you too. You're more fun than you realize," he giggles, nudging Namjoon's side.

Namjoon flashes a tight smile before he quiets down for long enough to let Jimin feel the weight of whatever was left unsaid. Maybe I jinxed it , comes across Jimin's mind, but he doesn't have enough time to ponder over it with the way Namjoon looks at him.

He recognizes the look. The hooded eyes and the darkness casted by desire churning within. Jimin knows this look all too well. Sometimes he's the one wearing it like armour, sometimes he's the one it falls upon. But still, he knows it.

Just as he knows what's coming when Namjoon turns, so that he's standing exactly in front of Jimin. He knows what's coming when the chill paints Namjoon's cheeks with stingy red, and when Namjoon licks his lips, the hold onto Jimin's arms loosening. 

He knows what's coming, but he doesn't dread it. Doesn't have to fight the urge to step away. He's not sure he'd want to anyway.

Jimin missed kissing.

"Can I try something?" Namjoon's voice sounds lower, almost rumbling in Jimin's ears. "You can stop me any time you want."

"I should say no," he teases, not meaning it.

"Then why don't you?"

Jimin loves the way Namjoon looks at him. Like he's the most beautiful thing in the entire world and keeping Namjoon's lips away from kissing his is bordering on torture.

That look. He missed it too.

"Because I'm curious."

That's the only invitation Namjoon needs. He hunches slightly, pressing his lips against Jimin's, and it feels warm. Just like Jimin knew it would feel like to kiss Namjoon. His heart swells with fondness, filling up all the empty spaces. In the back of his head there's a voice reminding him that all this void will remerge as soon as their lips part, but that's okay.

The same voice tells him that it's wrong. That for Namjoon kissing is not just kissing like it is for Jimin, that he's ruining everything like he always does.

And then there's Taehyung. Taehyung who (Jimin doesn't manage to smother the thought before it hits him) seems to be falling in love with him, and it's all wrong.

So, so wrong.

Jimin kisses Namjoon back. Kisses him again.

Namjoon's lips feel warm against his, and somewhere, where Jimin can no longer reach, the world shatters into million tiny pieces. He can hear every single one of them hitting the ground.

All the while, Namjoon’s lips feel warm