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For as long as he could remember, Jeongguk had never fit in with the rest.
But it wasn’t like that mattered anymore; Jeongguk had never once asked to pick up house and move across the country, but who were his parents to listen anyway?
His thoughts are muddled with the angst of a teenager, brow creased and furrowed into a tight knit. He bitterly thinks back to how comfortable his bed was, and how he’d much rather be there instead of here on a Saturday morning, sitting on the train with his legs much too cramped for comfort.
Jeongguk, of course, had made promises to return during his summer vacation, but would anybody even remember him? The trip back to Seoul may not be worth it, if he would return only to be determined to be an outlier once more.
It was always the same, Jeongguk’s life. Maybe it would be better to give up on this myth of friendship altogether, and live a life in solitude. Build his character as an individual.
First step, find a way to settle in his new house (he refused to call it home). Final step, talk to no one. Befriend nobody. Remain a loner.
Jeongguk’s plan of solitude does not go as smoothly as he had predicted, for on his first day at his new school—a Monday, the most dreadful of all days—he is very nearly put on display for the whole class, made to introduce himself to a room full of strangers. The master plan had already been foiled; Jeongguk wanted to remain nameless and invisible. It was hard, to be invisible, when he could already hear the whispers of, “where’s he from? Seoul? Seoul boys are always the best-looking,” from the lips of his classmates. The words leave him fidgeting with his own hands, the tips of his ears burning hot.
He isn't used to this kind of attention, always fading in the background amongst his peers at his previous high school. He could only assume that the whispers and flirtatious gazes in his direction were merely a side-effect of being a transfer student. Jeongguk is quickly seated so that they may begin their lesson.
Classes go by quickly, and Jeongguk is in a hurry to get home. All of the talk of the new kid has died down, although the few looks he was receiving has Jeongguk wanting to race home and hide in his room.
The walk home is pleasant, in the very least. There aren’t many classmates who live in the same direction, and it isn’t too far from where he lived. The sooner he could reach the safety of his house, the better (and he found it odd, considering the fact he didn’t even like being at home).
There’s a quaint little park just a short walk away from his own neighborhood, something he had failed to notice on his morning walk to school. In fact, he can see his house peeking out on the other side; it would be a nice shortcut on the days he was running late. Jeongguk takes a sharp left to tread through the bark.
The younger elementary students are still in class at this hour, and the park is empty, much to Jeongguk’s delight. The shortcut may turn into a permanent detour if it was always going to be like this. But a screech of metal on metal has Jeongguk cringing, the sound sharp and left to ring in his ears.
When he turns, he expects to find a young child skipping classes, but he is instead met with a somebody who looked to be around his age, nonchalantly rocking back and forth on the swings.
Jeongguk is perplexed.
The figure—a boy, it appeared to be—looked tall, even settled on the rubber seat of the swing. But his frame was lean, body swallowed up by a light blue and oversized hoodie thrown over a school uniform (was that the same as his own?). His locks were a chestnut brown that bounced with his swings, thin fingers wrapped around the chains holding him up.
They had to be the same age; he might even be younger, based solely on the fact that he was a high schooler on the swings.
Curious, Jeongguk finds himself stepping closer.
“Can I help you, transfer student?”
His voice catches Jeongguk off guard. It’s deeper than he’d anticipated, and that alone has him second-guessing their age difference. He fixes the collar of his shirt out of pure nervousness.
“Wanna sit with me? The swings are my favorite.”
Jeongguk pauses, unsure of whether or not he should listen. His introverted nature is of no help, pressuring him to run away in the direction of home. But the boy seems harmless.
Eventually, he takes a seat on the next swing over. His ultimate plan of staying a loner seems to have failed miserably on the first day; he would need to recalculate.
“You’re the new kid who just moved in, right?” The male asks, giving Jeongguk his utmost attention and stealing his breath all at once, with that dazzling grin and those sparkling, inquisitive eyes.
Jeongguk nods once, using his heels to gently rock himself back and forth.
“You’re Jeon Jeongguk, then,” he says simply, expression showing that he was satisfied by his own detective work. “Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker or anything. I’m in your class, I sit a couple rows behind you! My name’s Kim Taehyung.”
Taehyung is so bright and lively, the complete opposite of Jeongguk. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung,” is all he can muster up the courage to say, rendered speechless by the radiant aura that the other was giving off. He could only dream of being so extroverted and comfortable around near-strangers.
“You don’t seem to talk much, Jeongguk. Are you always like this, or is it just because you moved in recently?”
“Always like this,” he mumbles, kicking his feet at the ground below.
“That’s kinda cute,” Taehyung snickers, though with no sense of malice behind his words. Jeongguk scowls. “I get the feeling you don’t like being called cute. How about this: it’s endearing.”
Jeongguk would take endearing over cute any day, he decides, giving in and letting the muscles of his face relax.
It falls silent between them, no more words exchanged and instead replaced by the perpetual screech of the rusty chains. Jeongguk is feeling slightly uncomfortable, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to be bothered. Somehow, Jeongguk is jealous. His brow quirks with every sound from Taehyung’s swinging.
“Aren’t you too old for the swings?” He blurts out, his tone coming out more pointed than he had intended. Jeongguk had a thing or two to learn about socializing and making friends (he briefly thinks back to The Plan of Solitude, but it’s strange; Taehyung was making Jeongguk second-guess himself. He would have to be the one exception to the plan).
Luckily enough, Taehyung doesn’t appear to be too offended, even looking amused by the situation as he lolls his head to the side to give Jeongguk an entertained look. “Aren’t you too old to be judging me for liking the swings?”
He was right, at least, and Jeongguk couldn’t argue. In fact, the sharp-tongued response that he’d received from the mysterious boy on the swings even manages to bring a slight curl to his lips; his first smile of the day.
“Is this like, your secret hideout spot or something?”
“It’s not so secret if you found it so easily, is it?” Taehyung swings his feet a little more so he can go higher.
Jeongguk shrugs. “Guess not.”
A few minutes pass like that, in a silence that feels anything but unwelcoming. Jeongguk becomes so lost in thought that he almost doesn’t notice when his new friend is hopping off of the swings.
“Well, Jeonggukie, I’m gonna head home. My stomach is growling—can you hear it? I’ve gotta go through through my stashes of food before I keel over and die from this hunger,” Taehyung reaches for his bag and slings it over a shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you eat lots too!”
Jeongguk nods, raising a hand to give a brief wave, the opposite of Taehyung who insists on moving his whole arm around in the air just to say goodbye.
And when is back is turned, figure fading off into the distance, Jeongguk smiles again—could he consider the boy to be his first friend in this town? Friendship wouldn’t be so bad if it came in the form of Kim Taehyung.
Weeks pass by, Jeongguk somewhat settling into his new school. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d first thought, with the few friends he’d made along the way. Still, he was not yet convinced that this could be his home.
Jeongguk finds Jimin, a classmate and one of Taehyung’s close friends, in the cafeteria, nibbling at the corner of a piece of toast with his nose buried in a chemistry textbook. It’s a strange sight, to see somebody willingly studying so early in the morning, but Jeongguk slides into the seat next to him anyway.
“Studying already?”
Jimin sighs heavily whilst giving a weak nod. Unfortunately, his expression seemed to scream out. “Got a chem test coming up. Are you good at chemistry, Jeongguk? You could save my life.”
“Uh. Yttrium? Einsteinium? Sodium Peroxide?”
The look that Jimin gives to Jeongguk is pained. “Nevermind.”
Before Jeongguk has the chance to respond, he feels an arm hook around his neck, pulling him sideways into some kind of embrace. A quick peek upward shows none other than Kim Taehyung, having caught both him and Jimin in loose headlocks.
“Jiminnie! Are you being nice to Jeongguk? He’s precious, don’t scare him off!”
Jimin can only scoff, peeling Taehyung’s arm away with little difficulty. “I am not scaring him off. If anything, that’d be you,” he punctuates his words with a poke to the center of Taehyung’s chest. “All that babbling and how you get comfortable way too quick.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Jeongguk interjects. Taehyung beams.
“You see, Jiminnie! There’s nothing wrong with it! You’re just mad ‘cause I’ve got mad friendship gains.”
Jimin rolls his eyes, now giving Taehyung’s ribs an elbow. “We have all the same friends, Taehyung.”
Jeongguk watches the two bicker with much amusement.
“Hey, Jeongguk, you should come study with us after school today! We’ve got some upperclassmen who said they’d help us out.” Taehyung takes notice of the way Jeongguk stiffens, before giving the boy a gentle rub at a shoulder. “Don’t worry, they’re friends. You’ll like ‘em, I promise!”
Taehyung isn’t wrong, as his upperclassmen friends turn out to be some of the least intimidating people he’s met. If it weren’t for their larger stature, Jeongguk would have thought they were all the same age, just based on how they interacted.
One is quiet and collected, as if pure concentration was running through his veins rather than blood. The fluff of bleached hair atop the crown on his head somehow looks soft, despite the inevitable damage. In a way, it suits him. His name is Yoongi; Jeongguk learns this only from a brief introduction by the taller, chocolate-haired boy by his side. (“Yoongi and I are great friends. We’re going to be roommates in college,” he kept repeating, while the blonde had already cracked open his books.)
The oldest of the bunch, Seokjin, has broad shoulders that exude manliness. But the wheeze of his laughter is a stark juxtaposition. In fact, he is nothing but laughter, even more than Taehyung, which came as a surprise to the young boy. Jeongguk finds it hard to focus completely on his studies when the older male continuously makes jokes for every section they go over.
“I don’t think I can handle this anymore,” complains Jimin, leaning back in his seat with palms dragging over his face.
“Hey, if you have a problem with me incorporating humor into my tutoring, you’re welcome to learn this all on your own,” Jin threatens, eyes widening and neck craning forward to assert dominance.
“I think your jokes are the problem, not our tolerance for them,” Taehyung chimes in, equally as pained as the others.
“Building tolerance also builds character. I’m just trying to help you guys out. Therefore, I am not the problem. I am the solution.”
“Please don’t—”
“And if you’re not the solution, then you’re the precipitate.”
A collective groan sounds from around the table.
Taehyung is the first to recover from the pains of Seokjin’s (horrible) jokes. “Does this count as cruel and unusual punishment? Can I sue?”
If Jeongguk were to be completely honest, though, he finds the entire situation entertaining, hiding his snorts of laughter behind a hand. He, inevitably, fails his chemistry exam—the first time he’d ever done so poorly since moving—and is devastated by the results. But when Taehyung gives him a comforting rub on the back, Jeongguk finds that he doesn’t mind at all.
On the busy morning of a dreaded Monday, Jeongguk barely has enough time to gather himself together before heading out for school, let alone a lunch. And so when class is dismissed for their obligatory meal time, he declines everybody’s urging to head downstairs to the cafeteria to eat. The other’s faces harbor confusion, but they ultimately leave him to his belongings. Taehyung, however, lingers behind.
There’s a frown clear on his face (he had never been one to hide his emotions), watching with disapproval as Jeongguk effectively starves himself in favor of burying himself within pages of a novel. Without a word, he reaches for Jeongguk’s elbow, and tugs him downstairs with much force.
Jeongguk is in enough shock—and confusion—to keep quiet.
He would have been fine with the situation, if it weren’t for his friends stuffing themselves to the brim with all kinds of delicious foods. Jeongguk’s stomach growls, and the whole group pauses in their actions.
“Do you not have lunch?” Seokjin asks. Jeongguk can only shake his head. He’s soon bombarded with offers to treat him to a meal for the day, none of them wanting to see their youngest starve. Jeongguk shakes his head even more at this, having vowed to never be in debt to his friends, especially over something so trivial.
Suddenly, like a scene straight from a drama, a neatly packed lunch is dropped right onto the table in front of him. Taehyung is looking at him with a little pout on his lips. “Here,” he says, motioning to his food.
“Taehyung, I can’t take your lunch from you. Then you’d be the one starving,” Jeongguk complains, sliding the little tray back to the other.
Taehyung frowns more at that, holding up a slice of pork cutlet and prompting Jeongguk to eat. “We can share then, it’ll be alright. Here, have some.”
Left without much choice, Jeongguk takes the food, thankful for Taehyung’s hospitality (though he still felt bad for it).
From across the table, he can see Yoongi rolling his eyes before shoving some kimbap into his mouth. “Lovebirds.”
On the next day, Jeongguk spots Taehyung up ahead along his path to school. Picking up the pace of his steps, he jogs to the boy’s side. And he’s greeted by the most radiant of smiles, one that has Jeongguk’s chest clenching (he then vows to do everything possible to keep Taehyung smiling).
It becomes somewhat of a habit, for them to walk along the streets on their way to and from school, often times taking a detour to visit the park and find home in the seats of the swing set.
The idea of becoming so close to somebody so soon still has Jeongguk second-guessing it all. It was all so foreign, for him to be opening up and letting his guard down just for a boy with all the stars in his eyes.
Not wanting to bring the mood down, though, Jeongguk pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind, and instead focuses on the soothing melody of Taehyung’s laughter.
There isn’t much to be laughing over, Jeongguk thinks, as even his worst impressions of his favorite Overwatch characters leave Taehyung laughing like never before. Jeongguk thinks that they’re atrocious, but if they made Taehyung laugh like that, then they would have to be bumped up to first on his list of personal talents.
Laughter carries over into class, Taehyung’s giggles—though muffled to the best of his ability—get on the nerves of their teacher, earning Taehyung a one-way ticket out into the hallway (it was either that or extra cleaning duties; Taehyung hated to get dirty more than he’d hate the aches in his shoulders).
But Jeongguk protests—unable to help himself after seeing the way Taehyung looked like a hurt puppy as he slinked out of the classroom—only to be tossed out alongside the moping boy. Jeongguk flashes him a wide, toothy smile.
Taehyung grins back, trying to contain his excitement even as they raise their arms into the air. “Wow, you’re such a cool guy, Jeonggukie! Sticking up for poor me?”
“It’s a privilege reserved only for you,” Jeongguk says in reply, scoffing out in laughter at his own words.
Taehyung rolls his eyes at the comment, though it still makes his face light up in amusement.
They have to whisper to each other, in fear of getting caught and being even more in trouble, all the while keeping shoulders glued together. The minutes pass by, too fast and too slow all at once.
Gentle fingers knock together with such close proximity, Taehyung’s pinky finding its way into Jeongguk’s grip, their digits linking together with the utmost delicacy.
He tries to ignore the way that Taehyung’s cheeks become tinged with the slightest bit of pink.
The short period of time passes by quickly, the two of them quickly pulling their hands apart when they hear the door to the classroom opening, heading back inside with reddened cheeks and even redder ears, heads dipped down low to hide their shy faces.
Once Jeongguk is seated again, he can barely hear the teacher’s lectures about not being such a distraction so that everybody can pay attention to lessons. Ironic, for Jeongguk, whose attention was focused on the creases of his palm, curling his fingers around the ghost of Taehyung’s own. Jimin gives him a sideward glance, then leaves him be.
Jeongguk would be stuck with the warm feeling in his fingers—and in his cheeks—for the remainder of the day.
The majority of Jeongguk’s time becomes occupied by the volleyball team he’d been convinced to join (“Come on Jeongguk, you could be the next Kageyama or something!”). Unfortunately, this meant more sweating, and less Taehyung; the opposite of Jeongguk’s ideal life. Taehyung had said it would be okay, but the words did little to dampen the feeling of longing that Jeongguk had stored in his chest.
Practices run long into the night, so it’s a surprise when Jeongguk walks out of the gym, limp and fatigued from a particularly intense practice match.
Taehyung bounds over to the male’s side, linking their arms together, before promptly delivering a smack to Jeongguk’s shoulder. “You’re gonna get sick like that, not putting a jacket on when it’s so cold out!”
A breathy chuckle falls past Jeongguk’s lips, giving in all too easily and slinging a jacket over his shoulders. Only then does Taehyung loop a pastel blue sleeve together with Jeongguk’s own arm.
The walk home is far less lonely today, even with the chill of the evening starting to settle in. Greys of overhead clouds start to become replaced by pink and purple hues of sunset.
Both decide to settle down at the top of a grassy hill, belongings scattered all around the space behind them. It seemed that, even on a late night like this, they would take advantage of whatever time they would have together.
As the sun drops along the horizon, Jeongguk wonders how much of its beauty is to be credited by nature, and how much of it is solely because of the boy by his side. He doesn’t think he’d ever been so enthralled by tales of Taehyung’s jazz band, yet in the moment, there are practically stars in his eyes.
Jeongguk sits with his chin propped onto bent knees, head turned so that he could watch Taehyung paint pictures with his hands. He briefly wonders if, one day, Taehyung might draw ones that involved the two of them, together. It seemed like a bit of a stretch, but Jeongguk hoped that the feeling was mutual.
This craving for reciprocation is a new one for him; Jeongguk had been notorious for keeping few friends, and never openly expressing himself. But Taehyung, so beautiful and effervescent, had captured his heart.
It wasn't as though Jeongguk was blind to the fact, but rather he was scared of it. What if Taehyung didn't like him back? Or worse, what if Taehyung started to avoid him after a confession? It was much too risky; Jeongguk would rather keep his thoughts to himself, than to possibly ruin the truest friendship he's ever had.
He catches the glint of excitement in Taehyung's eyes as he continues to tell his stories. Jeongguk has not the slightest idea of what Taehyung is saying, too enraptured by the way Taehyung's rosy lips move and shine under the light. Plump, glossy, pretty.
“Really pretty,” he mumbles, the words coming out before he could even think about stopping them. He doesn’t even have time to look away, with the speed that Taehyung snaps his head upward, looking towards Jeongguk, confused.
“What is?”
Nervously, he clears his throat. “Uh, the sunset.” Taehyung isn’t convinced. Jeongguk panics.
“I have to—go home,” he chokes out, unable to even come up with a reason. He scrambles, promptly packing up his belongings and giving a wave and a nervous chuckle to the still-confused Taehyung.
Later that night, Jeongguk scolds himself for creating such an uncomfortable tension between them both, shoving the thoughts of them holding hands and going on dates and kissing to the back of his mind.
Luckily enough, Jeongguk becomes even busier with practice, barely even managing to keep up with his school work with the amount of time spent in the gymnasium. He, as much as he'd like to, cannot spare a single second away from the courts, mind filled with various tricks and plays and matches. It was only the first game of the season, but that first game would set the standard for the remainder of the season.
He doesn’t get to see Taehyung much at all the rest of the week, which is good because Jeongguk still has no idea how to deal with the fluttering in his heart, but bad because he doesn’t get to see Taehyung.
The conflict fries Jeongguk’s brain, his passes way off, and receives virtually useless. The night ends with Jeongguk’s first spike to the face, though at least this way, he can blame the red tint in his cheeks on that instead.
The best part about being so busy, he concludes, is that he doesn’t have to spend all of his time panicking and fretting over his relationship with Taehyung. Relationship was a choice word; was it because that was what he longed for?
The starting game of the season is on a Saturday night, concluding a long week of aching shoulders and sore thighs. Jeongguk is beyond excited for his first game ever.
But he supposes that isn’t the only thing on his mind, as they close in on a prospective final set.
A distinctive shade of baby blue sticks out amongst a sea of bright colors, bringing a smile to Jeongguk’s previously concentrated, almost mean-looking expression. When he manages to glance over to the bleachers, he can see Taehyung, as radiant as ever, looking so fondly in Jeongguk’s direction. Jeongguk had briefly thought that, maybe, he was only watching Jimin like a proud mother. But the other boy was at the back of the rotation, and Taehyung’s eyes were most definitely glued onto him.
Jeongguk has no good way of dealing with this newfound attention, heat flushing through his face once their eyes meet.
When the ball heads straight in his direction, he slams the heel of his palm down against it, causing the ball to collide against the gym floor with a deafening blow.
Everything goes quiet, both teams stunned. The referee blows their whistle, and the scoreboard is turned.
The crowd goes wild. Jeongguk’s name is chanted. They hoist him up onto their shoulders in some kind of unnecessary celebration.
He hadn’t even realized that he’d scored the game-winning point until now, having been too focused on Taehyung, and Taehyung alone. It seemed so foolish, but Jeongguk would be a fool for him any day.
A fool in love? Most definitely.
It takes several minutes for the crowds to settle down, and several more afterwards once they’d flooded the court. All the while, Jeongguk is searching for Taehyung, searching for that shade of blue that makes his heart race.
When it passes the fifteen-minute mark, and still no sight of the boy, Jeongguk lets out a defeated sigh, zipping up his jacket and heading outside to meet with the rest of the team.
“Boo!” A figure pops out from the door frame, giving Jeongguk a jolt. Once he recognizes who it is, though, his heart races for a different reason.
“God, Taehyung, you scared me,” he breathes out, relaxing his tensed up shoulders.
He just beams, and Jeongguk’s heart grows ten sizes larger.
“You wanna head home, Jeonggukie?” Taehyung asks, his voice sounding gentle, more of a plead than a suggestion.
Jeongguk glances back over his shoulder, the team starting to gather up to head out to a celebratory dinner. He takes a brief pause, before cupping a hand around his mouth to call out to them. “Sorry guys, won’t make it to dinner tonight. Celebrate on my behalf!”
He doesn’t fail to miss the shy and appreciative smile that graces Taehyung’s lips.
The weather is a bit chilly, and Jeongguk regrets not having another jacket to bundle around Taehyung. The game had run late into the night, the skies darker than usual for the pair.
Although it seemed as though not even a cold, dark night could stop them from taking their usual detour through the park. Not even halfway there, Taehyung reaches over for Jeongguk’s wrist, dragging them down the street (Jeongguk ignores the way his thighs burn, for Taehyung’s sake).
They find themselves at the same spot on the hill, chests heaving from exhaustion, foreheads dampened with sweat. Too tired for anything else, they fall back to lay out on the grass instead.
Taehyung’s grip lingers around Jeongguk’s wrist, capturing it in a loose wind. “I thought you were avoiding me,” he mumbles. Jeongguk’s heart wrenches. Had he been caught?
“No, just practice,” he lies, too overcome with guilt to admit his wrongdoings. Taehyung only nods, tightens his fingers against Jeongguk’s skin. He seemed so vulnerable, so delicate and soft; Jeongguk desperately wanted to scoop him up and soothe him.
“You did really well tonight, Jeongguk,” Taehyung says in a gentle voice, looking absolutely breathtaking under the gentle light of the moon.
Jeongguk can only manage a small, “thanks.” This time, silence falls upon them, just sitting together, staring up into the sky, the stars twinkling back. Taehyung’s grip slackens, his fingers sliding down Jeongguk’s wrist. But Jeongguk captures Taehyung’s palm within his own, letting their fingers settle together.
The action seems so natural, as if they’d done it before. A sign of fate, perhaps, a fate that had decided they should be together.
Taehyung stares up at the sky, and Jeongguk cannot help but to be left in awe of the sight.
A gentle slope of the forehead turns to a beautiful curve of the nose, topped off with the cutest mole right at the tip. Messy, yet cute, fringe frames his face, a warm brown color that complimented his skin tone perfectly. Chocolatey eyes are rimmed by a thick line of eyelashes, effortlessly outlining his features. His lips even seemed to be caught in a perpetual pout, so round and full and enticing.
Jeongguk thinks that, as much as Taehyung loves to admire the stars, he would rather admire Taehyung instead.
But Taehyung catches him staring, tilting his head in confusion and pausing the strokes of his thumb against the back of Jeongguk’s palm.
He could do it. He was a changed man. He could handle the situation calmly. This was the moment he had been waiting for. All Jeongguk needed to do was put his heart out on the line, and just pray that Taehyung would feel the same.
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s not quite the clean-cut statement Jeongguk had wanted to make, but it would have to do.
Taehyung is caught breathless, his eyes wide and doe-like as he nods fervently. “Oh my god, I thought you’d never ask.”
Jeongguk rolls onto his stomach, sliding himself closer to the other male. They’re both shaking, an equal mess of nerves and excitement. He hovers over Taehyung, for just a second, swallowing thickly at the lump in his throat.
Their first kiss is clumsy and unpracticed, more a collision of lips than anything else. Heat radiates off of their cheeks and spreads throughout their whole bodies, flushed with the eagerness that came with first kisses. They find their rhythm soon enough, Jeongguk even moving his free hand to cup at Taehyung’s cheek, his other still clasped tightly together with Taehyung’s.
They pull apart only to gasp for air, lips parted and kiss-swollen. Jeongguk catches the playful glint in Taehyung’s eyes, right before he’s pulled down for another, this time more focused and precise. He can’t help but to smile at it all; it’s a nice feeling to have Taehyung smiling back.
“We should… we should do that more often,” Jeongguk rasps, still feeling the tingles in his lips.
Taehyung nods in agreement, his free hand moving to brush Jeongguk’s fringe away from his eyes. “Only if you take me on a date.”
Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Okay, tomorrow. Dinner. I’ll pay?”
“Wait, are you for real? Like a date date? Like a, I like you more than a friend and I’m not going to hide it anymore, date?”
“You knew about that?” Jeongguk questions, mortified and embarrassed all at once.
Taehyung snickers. “It was pretty obvious, Jeonggukie. Everybody knew about that.” Horror. Pure horror. “So is it a date or what?”
Jeongguk gives a cheeky grin, squeezing at Taehyung’s fingers. “It’s a date.”
Taehyung celebrates by throwing his arms around Jeongguk’s neck to pull him in for another kiss.
Their date—a night out feasting on all kinds of snacks from the convenience store—goes as planned, and with much success, despite Jeongguk’s tripping over his own words, and Taehyung dropping their snacks on the ground (Jeongguk has to go back for more). But Jeongguk didn’t mind, because that only meant he got to spend more time with Taehyung.
He finds himself impatient for the night to pass, after they’d retreated back to their respective homes; Jeongguk had always dreaded Mondays, but they seemed a bit more bearable if he had his boy by his side.
The others don’t fail to notice the change, Yoongi even cringing at their outwardly affectionate actions, sitting closer than usual, holding hands underneath the table, and even sneaking in a few kisses when they thought nobody was looking.
“Can’t you guys go back to that pining stage where the most you ever did was stare dreamily at each other across the room?” Yoongi asks, after seeing Taehyung press the sixteenth kiss to Jeongguk’s cheek (he’d counted).
Taehyung only giggles and hugs Jeongguk’s arm to his chest. Jeongguk shrugs, much to Yoongi’s dismay.
“Aw, come on, I think it’s kinda cute,” Seokjin argues.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, though there’s somewhat of a playful grin starting to spread on his face. “Lovebirds.”
Jeongguk’s teeth flash in a grin of his own, looking to Taehyung. Taehyung looks back, and they share a kiss, this time by the lips.
He isn’t blind to the way he’d changed so much since the time he’d moved to Daegu, and he certainly isn’t disappointed. Jeongguk’s concern about a new life in a small town had quickly dissipated. He’d been so worried over not feeling at home, and being out of place during such crucial years of his schooling. But now, he has no reason to fret, and no reason to ever feel lost anymore.
Because when he looks at beautiful, radiant Taehyung, he knows that he’s found a home.