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~~~
Jungkook curses loudly as the rain starts coming down heavier, the jacket over his head doing little to nothing to shield him from the sheet of icy cold water assailing him. He ducks into the nearest alcove, brushing past a rather grizzled-looking stray cat and stepping inside.
He was supposed to have turned left a few blocks ago, but he’d messed up and ended up on the opposite side of where he wanted to be, lost and cold in the rain.
It’s a cafe. More specifically, it’s a warm, inviting cafe, with amber lights hanging from the ceiling and brown leather booths tucked cozily together by the windows, fairy lights zig-zagging across the ceiling and mismatched tables and chairs decorating the main floor. The walls are a dark wood paneling, decorated with numbers of music posters, some of which were autographed in stark black sharpie -Jungkook doesn’t know any of the names- and hanging bundles of dried flowers.
To the left, a serving counter, with a large menu board mounted on the wall behind it. To the far right, a small stage for live performances, currently void of any signs of use save for the mic stand at the front corner and the stool tucked back into the opposite corner, snug against the walls.
There weren’t very many people in the cafe, and it seemed to be a slow hour for them. He places his soaked jacket into the nearest unoccupied booth and slips the backpack from his shoulders, setting it next to it.
Patting down his pockets, Jungkook fishes his wallet out, stepping up to the counter to see a very bright-looking young man on his phone, obviously enjoying the break in customers.
“Uh,” Jungkook clears his throat. The man lets out a small ‘oh!’ before tucking his phone deftly into his back pocket and straightening his back. Jungkook eyes the baby pink apron he wore for a second before his eyes flit to the name tag. Hoseok, it reads. Jungkook smiles softly at him before glancing at the menu.
Everything sounded good right now, his stomach decided. In his hand, his wallet grumbled something sounding like save your fuckin’ money. He chooses to listen to his stomach.
“Can I get a medium caramel macchiato and a slice of the double trouble chocolate cake?” he asks. Hoseok smiles brightly, nodding.
“Sure thing! Would you be interested in adding another pastry to your order for two dollars more?”
NO, his wallet hisses.
“Please.”
Broke fucker.
Hoseok nods, ringing it up and reaching for Jungkook’s outstretched cash.
“We’re almost out of cookies, unfortunately, boss hasn’t made any more yet and I think you took the last slice of chocolate cake. We still have cheesecake, muffins, and a few cookies but honestly, they’re probably a bit too chewy,” Hoseok babbles, turning his back to Jungkook and flipping switches on the large machines behind the counter.
“So if you want, the muffins are chocolate chip, raisin, blueberry, and whole wheat, which nobody really orders that often. There’re a few people who insist that whole wheat and muffin don’t even belong in the same sentence. Boss usually just gives ‘em a blueberry one.”
Jungkook laughs. “Really pushing the muffins today, hm?”
Behind him, the bell above the door jingles, and the sound of roaring rain entered briefly as the door was opened. Jungkook doesn’t look, too focused on his conversation.
Hoseok laughs too, plopping a lid onto Jungkook’s coffee. “Gotta make sales on ‘em somehow, darlin’.” Jungkook laughs and agrees on a blueberry muffin.
“Your accent,” he says suddenly. “Gwangju?”
Hoseok looks over his shoulder and smiles, his lips forming a sort of heart shape.
“Born and raised.”
Jungkook smiles and nods, accepting the coffee Hoseok hands him along with the small handful of change.
“I’ll bring the cake and muffin to your table in a few seconds,” he says. Jungkook gives an affirmation and goes to sit down, pleasantly surprised at the quality of his coffee. He sits in the booth, the leather whining, and runs a hand through his damp hair. His phone was certifiably dead, he confirms, and though his backpack got wet, the sketchbooks inside remain dry and safe. He breathes a sigh of relief against the lid of his coffee.
He has no idea how he ended up here. In the cafe, specifically, but in college in general.
He was a photography major. Mostly traditional, his portfolio littered with prints, but a lot of his favorites were tucked into the creases of his sketchbook pages.
His favorites were ones that he liked more-so than quality ones. Those were his grade, his college livelihood- he managed to scrape by the qualifications for a scholarship and had gotten it, luckily, so he hadn’t had to worry about financing himself- but his grades depend on the kind of work he put out.
A lot of the ones in his book were blurry, shots of the streetlights outside his hometown or his friends skateboarding down the street. There was one in particular that caught his memory’s attention so he opened his sketchbook, filing through the glossy papers until he found it.
Jimin, orange hair messy, was grinning so big that his eyes formed tiny crescents, head thrown back onto his board, hand coming up to cover his mouth. The streetlights in the background were bright, orange and stark, almost like Jimin’s hair.
Next to him, Yoongi was looking down at him, mint hair as much of a contrast as his pale skin- ripped jeans and dark leather jacket almost matching Jimin’s attire. A cigarette hung from his lips, unlit, and a casual smirk splayed its way across his face. In his hand, a silver zippo lighter, thumb braced against the front to open it.
Jungkook smiles fondly, remembering the wipeout just minutes before. He’d tumbled onto his ass, sitting blankly afterwards until his skateboard rolled up and bumped against his hip.
Jimin and Yoongi had been concerned, of course, but Jungkook had looked up the hill at them, grinning, and said, “Tell me you recorded that, please.”
It wasn’t that funny, but Jimin, in all his relief, lay next to him and laughed until tears slipped down to his temples.
Jungkook places the photo down and blinks as he realizes Hoseok had stepped up next to his booth, silver tray balanced on one arm.
“O-Oh, uh, I’m sorry, did you ask something?” he gives an apologetic smile.
Hoseok laughs and gestures to the photo as he begins unloading Jungkook’s treats.
“Friends of yours?”
Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Yeah, we were skateboarding that day. We do that a lot, actually.” He lets out a breathy laugh.
Hoseok smiles. “I could never do that, I’m a big coward when it comes to things that move on their own. I’d much prefer to just walk.”
Jungkook shrugs. “It’s pretty exhilarating.”
“You keep your exhilaration, darlin’, I’ll keep my safety.”
Jungkook laughs and Hoseok chuckles a bit.
“Just yell if you need anything,” he says. Jungkook nods, reaching for the plastic fork and plate of cake.
“Sure thing.”
Jungkook takes a big bite, holding back a groan. Whether it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day or the fact that the cake was warm and he was cold, he wasn’t sure, but it was the best cake he’d ever had.
His eyes flicker over the cafe once again, noticing a figure standing on the stage, readying the mic. The man was young, around Jungkook’s age, and rather cute. He wore a burgundy sweater and a dark gray cardigan overtop, matching burgundy beret over his blond hair, ears peeking around either side. The green pants he wore would have been out of place on anyone else, but he pulled them off with an ease that rested in his comfort- his confidence wasn’t put off in the least by the contrasting colors. His shoes appear to be dress shoes, shining black leather.
As soon as he makes eye contact, the man looks away, focusing on positioning the mic a very specific way.
Jungkook feels his cheeks warm.
~
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Taehyung had walked into the cafe to set up for his usual nightly performance, nothing big, nothing to be worried about. But he’d seen Hoseok talking to a customer when he walked in, so he couldn’t wave hi, and then that same customer just so happened to be the cutest damn boy he’d ever seen, and- okay, Taehyung isn’t stupid. He knows things will go wrong eventually and he’ll find out, or maybe someone had told him already. (and that’s even if he tries befriending him. You think too much, too fast, he chides himself.)
Either way, he doesn’t have a chance, what with being deaf and all, not to mention that the boy’s eyes flickered over to Taehyung’s own to catch him staring and they were actually the prettiest doe eyes he’d ever seen, and he suddenly fears seeing those eyes watch him perform and-
Taehyung focuses on positioning the mic, meticulously sliding it down the holder until the little scratch he familiarized himself with brushes up against the edge of the holder, twisting it a bit, and glances back over at the boy once he resumes eating.
From where he stands, perhaps two and a half feet above the cafe floor, he can see that he was eating chocolate cake, Taehyung’s favorite menu item- he always asked Hoseok for whatever was left over, when they got ready to lock up together. Tuesdays were the cafe’s least busy day, so Seokjin- the owner- usually let Hoseok handle them on his own.
Taehyung did what he could, though, wiping down tables when he could and picking up the trash left behind after customers exit.
After a particular incident involving two iced coffees and Taehyung breaking down in tears, he isn’t allowed to sweep the floor anymore, but he’s okay with that.
He finishes with the mic and allows himself another peek at the boy.
To find him looking at him. Again.
Taehyung swallows hard and turns away, picks up his stool rather than dragging it, positioning it in front of the mic and settling on it, kicking his shoes off and letting them rest next to the mic stand. The floor is cold against the bare soles of his feet.
Hoseok catches his eye just as he places his bare feet down on the hardwood of the stage, and he gives a thumbs up.
The usual mix? Hoseok asks.
Meeting Hoseok in college was such a blessing. He’d been randomly assigned as Taehyung’s roommate- Taehyung had requested that they give him normal consideration in roommate assignment, because he didn’t want his hearing disability to affect his life more than it already did. He even pulled out a few tears, and they melted, giving him a top priority room and electing to randomly assign the roommate like he knew they would.
His reason was complete bullshit and he knew it. He was glad they didn’t, though.
Really, he just didn’t want another disabled student paired with him- not that he didn’t appreciate the effort the college would have made, no, he would just really have preferred to use his voice as much as possible- with someone who could listen and reply, help him learn to read lips better. He knew from experience that they would have either paired him with another deaf student and their translator or someone with a different disability. In his last year of high school he was paired with a blind kid. A blind kid. He wasn’t able to sign, and Taehyung, not confident enough to speak, couldn’t read lips yet. He ended up learning morse code to talk to him, and even then, all they did was tell dirty jokes with the erasers of their pencils on the desks.
Hoseok, as it turned out, had been taking sign language classes since high school. He knew enough to communicate with Taehyung nonverbally and tell him what he’d said if he couldn’t read his lips fast enough, and he was grateful.
But Taehyung had been hesitant to tell him about his plans to sing- and to keep speaking. When he’d replied to Hoseok verbally the first time, Hoseok had just about choked on the coffee he was always drinking (which was a big part of why Taehyung thinks he’s always so damn energetic. Practically half his blood is caffeine.)
He’d hesitantly asked Taehyung if he was born deaf, and Taehyung, confidence wavering, shook his head.
I was in an accident, he signed. Just before my seventeenth birthday.
Hoseok frowned.
I’m sorry. He signed.
Taehyung shook his head, biting his lip before opening his mouth. He cleared his throat and watched Hoseok patiently wait.
“The uh.. The accident, uh. It ruptured something in my ears, I think.” He doesn’t want to go into detail about not being able to do more than watch as his mother broke down in silent tears at the news, silent sobs heaving her body, a silent mouth telling him he’ll be alright.
Images of a car crash flash before Taehyung’s eyes and he squeezes them shut.
When he opens them, he’s back on the stage, under Hoseok’s waiting gaze, microphone centered in front of him and a curious peek from chocolate cake guy.
He gives Hoseok his thumbs-up and takes a deep breath. He feels the vibrations of the music start playing, feels them against the soles of his feet, travelling deep into his bones, as if he can hear it again.
~
Jungkook watches as the man on stage blanks for a few seconds, lips falling open and eyes staring off into nowhere. Hoseok, behind the counter, waits patiently, albeit somewhat concerned.
The man blinks back to life and licks his lips nervously before giving Hoseok a thumbs up, rocking back onto his stool slightly.
The music starts, soft at first, and the man’s eyes drift shut as he sways.
His large hands reach for the mic, pulling it close to his mouth as he begins singing, leaning slightly to one side and looking out over the mostly empty cafe.
His voice is like nothing Jungkook has ever heard before- it’s deep and slightly raspy, but in a soft way, like how he imagines velvet would sound. Dark velvet. As the man continues singing, he glances over at Jungkook, never hesitating in his song. The timbre of his voice is perfectly captured by the microphone, his eyes closing softly as he raised his note at the end, and Jungkook feels- something.
He doesn’t dwell on it, shoving the last of his cake in his mouth and choking it down with some coffee. He is not going to develop a crush on the obscure singer in an even more obscure coffee shop in a part of town he didn’t know. Absolutely not.
Besides, he reasons, it wasn’t even like they knew each other. It can’t really be called a crush. More like.. Butterflies.
No, dammit Jungkook that sounds just as bad, his head yells.
He frowns and wipes his hands on his pants, head filled with fuzz and soft music and a gentle voice. The photos on the table in front of him beg for their contents to be remembered, for the memories to fill his head instead, music a backdrop for nostalgia- but all Jungkook can focus on is the beautiful voice from the beautiful man in the tiny (beautiful) cafe.
~
Relaying all of this to Jimin had been a mistake. Once his friend had heard his groaning he’d laughed. Laughed.
“This isn’t funny!” Jungkook pouts.
Jimin giggles again and looks down at him from the top bunk.
“You’ve gone soft, Jeon.”
Jungkook splutters indignantly.
“I have not!! His voice was just… really nice.”
“Softie.”
Jungkook groans again, spurring on another bout of giggles, and really, he’s thisclose to disowning Park Jimin as his best friend. He tells him as much.
“You would miss me as soon as Yoongi started complaining,” he says. Jungkook smiles, allowing a giggle of his own to slip free.
“Anybody would hate the complaining,” he agrees. He lowers his voice to Yoongi’s gravelly tone and slurs, “It’s way too cold out here, Jiminie. My hands are going to freeze off, hold them or I’ll get frostbite.”
Jimin giggles hard, lungs squeaking as he squints over the bed at his youngest friend.
“Don’t make fun of us!”
Jungkook laughs a bit before adding on, “he always finds a way to hold your hand. It’s kind of ridiculous.”
They’re both silent for a moment, and in that instance Jungkook’s stomach lurches, afraid that he crossed the line in talking about his friends’ delicately forming relationship.
But then Jimin was giggling again, lowering his own voice and saying, “Jimin-ah, your board doesn’t look too good. Ride on my longboard with me, yeah?” By the end of the statement he was close to losing it.
Jungkook snorts and laughs, even letting his eyes droop to mimic Yoongi’s lazy stare.
“Jimin-ah, those jeans are very tight on you.”
They both break out into a fit of giggles, Jimin rolling around on his bed and almost falling off, which spurs more laughter.
Gripping onto the sheets with one hand, slumped against the side of the mattress, Jimin wipes tears away from his eyes and looks at him incredulously as he catches his breath.
“Since when are you so funny?” He asks.
Jungkook smiles and winks.
Jimin, this time, groans.
~
Jungkook ends up back at the cafe two days later, on Thursday. He’d retraced his steps very carefully, sometimes wracking his brain to decide whether he’d gone left or right, but he’s approaching it now, and what he sees almost makes him trip over his own feet.
The boy, the singer, is at one of the outside tables, a salad in front of him, bare feet peeking out from where he sat criss-cross. At the feet of the chair sit the rain-drenched cat he’d seen two days ago, fur fluffed, and two other cats, one white and one orange with stripes. The boy is picking something out of his salad and breaking it into pieces before dropping it down for them to eat, smiling big. Jungkook’s heart squeezes. He pretends it doesn’t.
He continues walking up, sees the boy look up at him almost in surprise as he opens the door. Jungkook shyly waves over his shoulder as he enters, seeing Hoseok at one end of the counter and what looks like a new employee, covered in flour beside him.
“Hello!” Hoseok greets absently, trying to explain a recipe to the man- perhaps for what he had, by the looks of it, attempted and failed at.
Hoseok looks up when Jungkook stands at the counter, smiling widely in that heart-shaped way he does.
“You again! Jungkook right? I’m surprised to see you,” he says. “Most people who come in from the rain only come in once, for shelter.”
“Good to see you too,” Jungkook mumbles, a small smile on his lips. Hoseok laughs.
“It’s always good to see a pretty face like yours, darlin’,” Hoseok counters. Jungkook lets out a small giggle, reaching for his wallet.
“Is it a company requirement to flirt with customers?” He asks, tongue in cheek. Hoseok laughs again and the flour-covered man beside him chuckles quietly.
“Nope, you’re just special.”
The three of them laugh then, and Jungkook glances at the other man’s nametag. Namjoon, it proclaims, with a little smiley face not unlike Hoseok’s. Perhaps he wrote it?
“What can I getcha, darlin’?” Hoseok asks. Jungkook inspects the money in his wallet for a moment, almost able to hear it beg him not to.
“Two slices of chocolate cake, and an iced caramel macchiato, please.” Hoseok smiles.
“Lucky duck, you get the last two slices of cake for today!” Jungkook crinkles his nose.
“My luck has been pretty good lately.”
Hoseok hands him both slices on one plate. “Aside from getting caught in the rain, huh?”
“Well,” he considers, “it did lead me here, so it was pretty lucky after all.”
Hoseok lets out a noise and beside him, Namjoon smiles, absently brushing flour off of his hands.
“Aish, kid, you’re too much.” Hoseok says. Jungkook giggles.
“Wait, who’re you calling kid?”
Hoseok just laughs.
~
Taehyung has barely settled down with his salad before he began picking out the chicken and separating it into threes for the kitties gathered at his chair. As soon as he’d stepped outside with his order they’d flocked to him, one running from across the street, the other sitting under the table already, the third from under a nearby parked car.
Halfway through the process of making sure all of them got the same amount, his eyes flicker up and he’s shocked to see the chocolate cake cutie from the other night. He hasn’t seen Taehyung yet, so he looks down, focusing on breaking apart the chicken and feeding it to the cats.
He glances up again as he sees the door open, hoping to get a view of the boy’s profile- but he’s surprised further to see the boy looking at him, a slight blush creeping up his ears, and he gives a shy, quick wave before going inside. Taehyung feels his cheeks flush.
He’d waved at him. He’d recognized him.
Here he was, barefoot and surrounded by hungry cats, fingers covered in the juice of many grilled chicken bits, probably somewhat foolish-looking, and the boy- he’d recognized him, waved at him.
For a sickeningly long moment Taehyung considers going inside and saying hi. He decides not to, though. Too many unknowns, too much possibility.
He glances down to see the cats with their mouths open in hungry pleas and feels bad. He drops them each a whole piece of chicken rather than breaking it up, scratching their heads softly. Their eyes close contentedly when he does, and he wishes he could be one of them.
At least cats don’t have to worry about cute boys.
~
Okay. If Jungkook said he only sat outside because of the nice weather and not because of the cute singer sitting one table over, it would be believable, right?
Insufferable twat, his brain curses. You’re here to stare at the singer and everyone knows it, man, you’re not subtle.
Jungkook huffs softly and settles into the metal chair as much as he could, his hoodie doing little against the chill of the wind as it kicks up, pushing his hair off his forehead and making him squint. It was somewhere in the middle of november, and though it wasn’t cold, persay, the wind had a habit of freezing Jungkook at the most inopportune moments. He doesn’t get how the singer could have his feet bare, sitting against the metal chair and table- felt as if, if he tried it, he’d freeze to death.
He chews the side of his cheek guiltily as another gust of chilly air makes him wince.
Yeah, he thinks, the nice weather indeed. Totally believable.
He realizes, a bit belatedly, that he’s at the perfect position for a sneaky photo of the cute singer and the cats- something only he’d get to see, something else to tuck into the creases of his book. He bites his lip and reaches quietly into his bag, retrieving his camera and flicking it on. The cap goes next to him and he sets it down on the table, facing the singer.
Subtle as ever, his brain chides. He wills it to shut up.
He waits for the tiny screen to focus on the singer, catching a few photos just as one of the cats jumps into his lap and he smiles with glee. Jungkook’s chest feels warm.
He turns the camera off and caps it again, stowing it carefully away in his bag, thankful that the downtown traffic covered the sounds of his shutter, and blinks as Hoseok steps outside, beaming at the singer with Jungkook’s coffee in his hand.
“Mornin’, Taehyung,” he says, accent as endearing as always. The boy smiles, replies with a “morning, Hoseok!” and Jungkook is still processing the singer’s -Taehyung’s- name when Hoseok walks up, not even registering that Taehyung’s eyes follow him and land squarely on Jungkook.
“One caramel macchiato, iced,” he says, setting it down. Jungkook smiles up at him, thanks him.
“How’s the cake?” Hoseok asks. Jungkook looks down at the untouched plate and grins sheepishly.
“I got a bit distracted,” he mumbles. Hoseok’s grin stretches wide, heart-shaped and mischievous. (Taehyung blushes and looks away, hopes he read Jungkook’s lips correctly.)
“By…?”
Jungkook feels himself flush.
How can he explain that he was watching the world’s cutest singer feed scraps of chicken to stray cats and coo at them?
“The uh.. The cats. Over there.” He gestures vaguely in Taehyung’s direction. Hoseok glances over his shoulder at them, seeing the red tinging Taehyung’s ears as he turns to the cats at the bottom of his chair, mewling loudly.
“Aw, they are pretty cute,” he says loudly, then lowers his voice conspiratorially, “but in my humble opinion, Taehyungie is cuter.” Jungkook blushes hard at that. Was Hoseok implying that he knew Jungkook was staring, or was he serious?
He licks his lips before answering. “I-I guess,” he mumbles.
Hoseok’s grin looks as deceiving as it is.
~
They’re closing up, even though it’s a bit earlier than usual. Hoseok sweeps quietly to one side, Taehyung helping to wipe down tables on the other, humming as he does. Neither of them speak, and Taehyung takes a small comfort in that. It’s nice sharing time with someone without having to speak.
His thoughts turn to the cutie he’s seen twice now. He doesn’t know his name, only that his jeans have holes in the knees and his knees beneath are beat-up; he knows that he likes the chocolate cake, and that that’s the reason Taehyung hasn’t had any, either day he’s helped close; he knows that he carries around a sketchbook with pages tucked full of photos too far away to properly see; he knows he has nice hands, and a nice pout to his lips that Taehyung could watch speak forever; he knows that, given the chance, he’d like to kiss those lips-
A tap on his shoulder breaks the spell and he blinks, feels himself blush red.
Hoseok is standing there, broom in hand, grinning at him with a cheshire grin. Taehyung keeps himself from groaning. What’s he know that Taehyung doesn’t?
Something, apparently.
“His name is Jungkook,” Hoseok says. Taehyung frowns.
“Who?”
“The cute boy you’re thinking about.” Taehyung flushes deeper, feels his face burn with the intensity of it.
Taehyung tries to speak, fails. His voice catches in his throat and he ends up gaping at Hoseok, opening and closing his mouth for a second before shutting it firmly and focusing on the rag in his hand as he wipes the table. He could just pretend he doesn’t know what Hoseok is talking about...
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. It’s futile.
He doesn’t see Hoseok’s response, chooses to look down at the streaks the rag wipes across the table. Is it that obvious?
“Is it that obvious?” he asks.
He glances up at Hoseok to see him nodding.
He groans and drops his head, bringing it back up to watch for Hoseok’s response.
“He thinks you’re cute,” Hoseok says. Taehyung blinks. Once, twice.
Jungkook thinks he’s cute?
Jungkook thinks he’s cute.
Jungkook thinks he’s cute.
Jungkook thinks he’s cute.
Jungkook thinks he’s cute.
Fuck.
“Fuck.”
Hoseok laughs vibrantly, the vibrations sounding in the bare soles of Taehyung’s feet.
“I talked to him a bit when I brought his coffee out,” Hoseok says. “He was watching you feed the cats, very obviously you and not the cats, but I asked him how the cake was and he said he got distracted… by the cats.”
Taehyung frowns.
“Maybe he was just distracted by the cats, Hoseok.”
Hoseok’s grin widens.
“He certainly wasn’t drooling over the cats on Tuesday, though.”
Taehyung suppresses a shiver at what he’s implying.
The cutie with scuffed shoes and a sketchbook full of photos, the cutie with messy hair and a bunny-grin when he smiled, with wide eyes and sturdy hands and probably too-cute lips.. might, actually, like him?
“Does he… like me?”
“I haven’t asked yet.”
Taehyung’s stomach drops. Please don’t ask.
“Please don’t ask.”
“Too late, darlin’, it’s already in the plans.”
This time, Taehyung actually does groan. When Hoseok plans something, he almost always gets his way and goes through with it.
Taehyung rubs harshly at his face, peeking over his fingertips at his best friend.
“It’s okay,” Hoseok says. “He’ll probably pass it off as me flirting again.”
He nods slowly, processing.
“Wait,” he says, thoughtfully, as Hoseok turns his back. He sees his shoulders begin to shake with laughter.
“Flirting? Again??”
~
This time, Yoongi is on the receiving end of Jungkook’s bemoaned story. He tells him everything that’s happened up until this point, about Taehyung and the cafe and asking for Jimin’s advice only to end up being laughed at- he carefully omits the part about imitating him- and sits in Yoongi’s spinning desk chair as the older man rests against the edge of his desk, contemplating.
Yoongi is not a man of many words. Not like this, at least. He’s years older than Jungkook and Jimin, graduated from college and a good portion of the way to being a successful rapper- his mixtape is in the works, and in his free time he does shows, raps in front of crowds bigger than Jungkook expects, breezes through lyrics with breathtaking speed and acts like a general badass- but here, outside of that atmosphere, he’s small, soft, contemplative.
They’ve known each other longer than anyone. Jungkook grew up pestering him, the kid from down the street with bloody knees and a battered, treasured skateboard under his feet- got to know him, to recognize which silences were intentional and which were just him getting lost in thought- felt like, finally, he had the older brother he’d always wished for, a confidant, a gray area in a world of blacks and whites.
He was in love with him, for a long time. But when Yoongi left for college and Jungkook was left floundering in high school with only his texts as company, the feelings crashed. Faded. Hard. He met Jimin, then, and they soon became friends- Jungkook introduced the two when Yoongi visited the first time.
They’d become fast friends.
So fast, in fact, that the three of them were soon skating all over town, only weeks after introductions, laughing together like they’d spent lifetimes doing so. Only recently, about a month or so ago, did Yoongi let himself start flirting with Jimin.
Jungkook watched this happen quietly. Yoongi had never had a (successful) relationship, and Jimin was timid about expressing his feelings, but- slowly, something between the two shifted, and Jungkook felt less like it should have been him and more like introducing them was beneficial for both ends.
He nibbles on his lip as he waits for Yoongi’s reply. He doesn’t like wasting words, so he often thought out his words very carefully (except for when he was drunk,) and Jungkook is used to these pauses.
Finally he speaks.
“I think you should introduce yourself,” he says, voice a low slur. “It couldn’t hurt, and it would give you the opportunity to start out as friends.”
Jungkook considers this, actually sits and thinks about it. But he can’t imagine himself mustering up the courage to actually talk to him, let alone become his friend.
“How?” he asks. He can hear the hesitation in his own voice.
“Introduce yourself,” Yoongi reiterates, leaning heavily on the edge of his desk. He levels Jungkook with a look.
Jungkook swallows heavily, reaching for the backpack sitting on the floor.
“I took a photo of him,” he says, almost guilty. Almost.
He tugs his sketchbook free from the bag and opens it to the middle, where Jungkook had printed the photo and stuck it into the crease. Yoongi reaches over, picks it up in deft fingers, examines it.
“Cats?” he asks.
“He was feeding them the chicken from his salad,” Jungkook says quietly, blushing. Yoongi’s mouth quirks up in a smirk.
“That’s cute, kid. He seems nice.” Jungkook hums.
“His voice is really nice, too,” he mumbles. “You should come to the cafe with Jimin one day, maybe we could all hang out there. Live entertainment, right?”
Yoongi scoffs. “You just wanna gawk at him again.”
Jungkook makes a protest, but his red cheeks give it away.
~
They all end up at the cafe, though, the next Monday, across from each other in the same booth Jungkook sat in when he first found the place. Yoongi’s wearing a black turtleneck and his glasses, whitish hair contrasted greatly. Jimin is tucked against his side in a (what Jungkook knows is Yoongi’s ) large gray hoodie, hands wrapped gratefully around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. They decide to split a plate of cookies, and Jungkook nibbles on one absently as he watches Hoseok and Namjoon bustle around behind the counter, itching to take a picture of them laughing, of Hoseok’s bright smile and Namjoon’s matching dimples, of the quiet way Hoseok talks to him, a different kind of flirting- a more serious kind.
It’s cute. They’re cute.
Taehyung walks in, waves at Hoseok and Namjoon, flashes them a (cute) boxy grin- and Jungkook tries his best not to choke on the cookie as he turns and makes direct eye contact with him, smile still in place but a pretty blush decorating his cheeks. Jungkook gives him a small, shy smile, berating himself for not saying hi.
Jimin, however, is not as subtle.
“Oh my god, Jungkookie, you didn’t tell me he was hot, ” he gapes. Jungkook glances over at Taehyung, who’s back is to them, busying himself with the mic cords and thankfully appearing to not have heard Jimin’s remark.
“Shut up,” Jungkook hisses between his teeth. Yoongi’s eyes pick up on something the two of them don’t, caught in an angsty staring contest, and he blinks softly. Jungkook looks up to see Hoseok nodding in Taehyung’s direction, hears Taehyung’s quiet “okay” and feels like he missed something.
It’s not long until Taehyung’s singing is lilting softly through the cafe, warm velvet spreading into Jungkook’s head and somehow making the cookie taste better, and Jimin blushes hard when Yoongi’s arm winds around his shoulder, looking casual but face more red than Jungkook’s ever seen. Possibly more than is humanly possible.
Jungkook raises an eyebrow at Yoongi, who raises one in return. He grins.
~
Taehyung feels helpless. He hadn’t seen Jungkook all weekend, and while it was nice, he’d wished to see the cute face again- but it seems his wish had come back to bite him, because sitting in a gray knitted sweater, large black buttons on the sleeves, hair slightly ruffled and falling softly on his brow, is Jungkook, cheeks flushed from the cold, but a cup of iced coffee in front of him.
He looks good. He looks beyond good, actually. Across from him are two boys tucked together, comfortable but.. hesitant. Maybe they only recently started dating?
He frowns and glances at Hoseok, signs just below chest level, music, please? I’m dying over here. Hoseok glances at Jungkook and nods at him and he lets out a breath, a small “okay,” and gets up to stand on the stage.
Singing has always been a good escape for him. Even when he’d had his hearing, it was so welcoming to let himself drift in the music, to add to it, to feel it. It was nice. Lovely. Home.
Positioning the mic in front of him, he swallows. Breathes in, deep, and breathes out, slow. He can do this. He always has been able to, and he always will be able to. He lets his eyes drift shut as he feels the music, waiting a few beats before singing, hands shaking where they’re tucked into his pockets.
He sings about a girl, as usual, because he doubts anyone will let him live it down if he sang about a boy, let alone if anyone knew he liked boys. It was just like that. But the words seem to be about a certain cutie watching him, about his wide brown eyes and silken hair, his hands no doubt smaller than Taehyung’s own- he lets his eyes open halfway, sitting heavily half-mast, and feels his dangling earring brush his neck as he turns to watch Jungkook, disguising the blush in his cheeks by coughing into his sleeves, small under Taehyung’s gaze.
Up here, he feels a million miles high. He feels so far above all the worries and troubles, all the stresses and negativity and hate.
He feels tall, proud, strong. Nobody here can tell that he’s deaf, can tell anything other than that he’s singing. It puts him at ease, makes him feel better about (liking?) Jungkook.
He sets his mind to leave the boy a note, then. Riding on the smooth waves of the vibrations traveling through his feet, the feeling of the music flowing through him- he sets his mind to write him a note and maybe even hand it to him.
Maybe.
~
There’s something in the way Taehyung’s eyes slide open at half-mast that makes Jungkook’s face flush. He looks away, coughs, almost hides his face in the soft sleeves of his sweater. He feels like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
He feels Yoongi’s foot nudge him under the table. Jungkook looks up and sees his face soften.
“He’s a good singer,” he says quietly. Jungkook nods, lets out a breath, agrees.
“Yeah.”
Jimin hums, his face on Yoongi’s shoulder, their cups close enough that their knuckles brush even when wrapped around them. Jungkook swears he isn’t envious.
Yoongi looks thoughtful, then, like he’s planning something, and Jungkook’s stomach actually plummets a little.
For all his thinking, sometimes Yoongi’s ideas are.. not the best, to put it lightly. They’re fucking awful, sometimes, to put it less than lightly. Jungkook feels his eyes narrowing at the other man. Yoongi looks at him, frowns.
“What?”
“I don’t know what you’re planning but I don’t like it.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Yoongi mumbles, slurs really. Jungkook huffs. As if.
“As if.”
Jimin lifts his head from Yoongi’s shoulder, then, sniffling a bit and rubbing at his nose.
“You guys remember the ice cream truck?”
There’s a groan from all three, then, followed by hearty laughter. It seems Jimin had been a bit too lost in thought.
The ice cream truck story goes as follows: the three of them, to celebrate Jungkook’s graduation, had decided to spend the summer in the best way they could. This, apparently, meant tormenting the local ice cream truck driver.
They would follow him on their boards, in the street, hooting and hollering, jingling the change in their pockets. The man who drove it looked like he belonged in the military, with his stony face and close-cropped hair. He was a jerk, too, unfair to the children who ran outside to get ice cream when they heard the colorful tune- charging them too much, driving by completely. Yoongi says he once saw him drive through a puddle to splash the kids with water.
After hearing that, the three had unanimously decided with mess with him as much as they could.
This included tying ropes to the bumper of his truck and holding onto them, making the driver trail them behind him- when the driver realized, he’d hit the brakes, and the three would skate faster than light past him, holding up middle fingers and opening their bottled drinks to splash at his windshield. Jimin once threw a cup of applesauce.
It got to the point that instead of braking, the man would throw ice creams at them, narrowly missing, but anger inadvertently awarding them a free snack in the hot summer.
Sucker.
Remembering this, the three giggle, Jimin sipping his cocoa to hide his smile. Yoongi smiles widely, gums showing, and Jungkook feels his nose crinkle as he laughs more. Jimin laughs, too, close to snorting hot chocolate out his nose.
The three struggle to stifle their laughter.
A tap on Jungkook’s shoulder breaks his focus and he looks over, still giggling, expecting to see Hoseok or maybe Namjoon. Instead, there stands Taehyung, golden skin glowing, soft. His laughter chokes to a halt. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed him stop singing.
He gives Jungkook a hesitant smile, and Jungkook returns it.
“Um, hi,” Taehyung mumbles. His cheeks are turning pink.
“Hi,” Jungkook breathes. Taehyung’s eyes follow the syllable off of his lips before flickering back up to his eyes. Jungkook blushes hard.
“This is, um, for you,” he says, extending his hands. There sits a folded up napkin with little cookies printed at the corners, small in his large hands.
Jungkook is confused, but he smiles anyway, angling his head and gingerly taking it.
“Thank you?” He asks. Again, Taehyung’s eyes flicker to his lips, and his mouth suddenly goes dry.
Taehyung smiles sheepishly. “I just, uh, yeah. Sorry.” He blushes, turns to leave, walks away. Jungkook’s mind replays his words.
It’s okay.
~
It’s not until they get back to Jungkook’s tiny apartment that he has the guts to open the napkin. It’s a miracle that neither Yoongi nor Jimin had snatched it from his pocket to read it out loud, but Jungkook supposes that some days are better for miracles than others.
He reads it silently, once, twice, three times. Taehyung’s handwriting is messier than he expected, a bit lopsided, but pretty in a way. Or maybe he’s biased.
i see you here a lot lately
maybe we could go together sometime?
~Taehyung
Beneath that is his phone number, so hastily scrawled that he has to squint hard to make out the last few numbers. But he adds it to his phone anyway and shoots Taehyung a text, Jimin and Yoongi watching avidly over his shoulder like this is their favorite drama.
from: me<
hi!
Almost instantly a reply comes through.
>from: cafe boy
who dis?
im just kidding youre the only person ive ever given my number to
Jungkook smiles, Jimin yells. In his ear.
from: me<
thats actually really cute tbh
my name is jungkook
~
Taehyung has to resist the urge to respond with ‘I know.’
~
Jungkook pushes Jimin off his shoulder, tells him to go sit with his boyfriend. Jimin blushes hard but Yoongi looks pleased at the title and pulls Jimin to his side.
>from: cafe boy
so
uh
please tell me you have an answer ;;
Jungkook frowns before remembering the question on the napkin. Maybe we could go together sometime?
from: me<
sure thing! when are you free?
~
Taehyung swallows heavily. This was the first date he’d ever been on and he was, honestly, fucking terrified. Jungkook was so cute, and Taehyung knew next to nothing about him, and- god, he was hot. Forget cute.
He shifts from foot to foot, standing outside the cafe doors, vigilant. He and Jungkook had agreed to meet up a few days after they began texting, and they’d hardly stopped texting since. Taehyung learned that he was in college for photography, barely scraping by financially but happy with his choice by all means. Jungkook had said that he, too, was in love with this cafe’s chocolate cake, and that he was the reason Taehyung hadn’t been getting the leftovers to satisfy his soft belly. He’d learned that Jungkook’s friends, Yoongi and Jimin, had decided to make it ‘official’ the day before, and that Yoongi had Jungkook play wingman and lead (a blindfolded) Jimin to some kind of elaborate setup- he didn’t feel privy to asking.
And now, he’s learning that though he himself might be early, Jungkook is painfully punctual. It’s 11:56 and they’d agreed to meet at noon, but Taehyung had arrived at 11:40, just to be safe. (Not that he was excited. Definitely not.)
((definitely.))
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something come rolling to a stop, turns and sees Jungkook on a skateboard, hair messy from the wind and leather jacket pulled close to his body. He smiles shyly at Taehyung, picking up the board and tucking it under his arm.
“Hi,” he says. Taehyung looks at his lips for a second too long after reading them.
“Hi,” he replies. They both pause, flush, laugh nervously.
Taehyung suddenly feels as if the world is a big, big place, and they are small, small people.
“Do you wanna go inside?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook smiles fully, rather bunny-like, and nods.
“Sure.”
~
Jungkook feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. Taehyung was wearing simple clothing, jeans, a gray hoodie and a backwards hat over his hair, which wasn’t blond anymore- no, it was a dark chocolate brown, full and rich. The jacket is open enough to expose just a sliver of golden skin past his neck, warm and soft. Jungkook’s tongue feels dry.
Combined with the way Taehyung watches his lips whenever he talks, wide eyes flickering up to his when he responds, innocent… gods. Jungkook was surprised this was his first date, with looks like those.
When they walk in, Taehyung wolf whistles at Hoseok, who’s standing just a little too close to Namjoon. Hoseok lets out a protest, and Namjoon looks down, cheeks pinkening. It’s cute. Hoseok mouths something (probably vulgar) at Taehyung and he laughs, mouth widening into a (very adorable) boxy grin. Jungkook smiles at the sound.
Jungkook waits for Taehyung to look at him before banishing the grin, leading them to his favorite booth and sitting facing him. Taehyung folds his hands shyly and glances down at them frequently.
Jungkook taps the table where he knows Taehyung can see and grins when he looks up, eyes wide.
“Wanna go up and order, or should I?” he asks. Taehyung hums, eyes flickering away from his lips as he considers.
“I’ll go,” he decides. Jungkook nods. “What do you want?”
“I’ll have a caramel macchiato and a slice of chocolate cake,” he says. Taehyung grins at him.
“Good choice.”
~
They’re walking down the street, despite the aching cold, Jungkook’s skateboard tucked safely into his backpack, only the front peeking out. Their arms are close, cautiously so, and Jungkook feels like it’s not enough- he wants to hold his hand, feel the warmth against his palm, but he’s scared to try anything, and that keeps him from reaching over.
Suddenly, Taehyung gasps. Ahead of them is a store, probably for babies or children, with windows full of stuffed animals of every variety. Jungkook smiles to himself. He was this excited about stuffed animals?
Taehyung leads them inside and marvels at the pastel walls full of toys, the far one sporting a multitude of baby outfits and items like bottles.
Taehyung, however, sticks to the stuffed animals, bending down and feeling them, squishing them, a determined look on his face, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his lips just a little- he looked every bit like one of the children the toys were made for.
Jungkook taps his shoulder. Taehyung turns, smiling up at him.
“What’s with the stuffed animals, hm?” Taehyung’s smile widens into a larger boxy grin.
“You’ll see,” he says cryptically, and Jungkook resists the urge to coo at how cute he looks, sitting back on his heels as he deliberates between stuffed animals.
After a good (endearing) twenty minutes of watching Taehyung go back and forth between two plush ones, both round and wide, he decides on the first, a teddy with a large tummy and soft white fur. He grabs both the large version and the small, small version, taking them up to the counter. The girl there smiles gently at him, looking like she’s come to recognize this as a part of their routine. Jungkook is confused, yes, but he appreciates how cute Taehyung looks surrounded by soft stuffed animals, so- it’s canceled out.
The girl’s name tag says Lisa, but she looks cute enough to be one of the plushies around them. She rings up the bears and smiles as Taehyung hands her his card, asking him about his day and his purchases. Taehyung smiles back, contagious, and Jungkook does too. Taehyung goes on to fake-whisper that he was on a date with Jungkook, and if possible, his smile gets wider.
Jungkook pretends he’s not blushing.
Lisa wishes him luck and tucks the stuffed animals into a paper bag, handing it to Taehyung with his card and sending him a sly wink just before he turns.
“Can I put the bag with the other one in your backpack?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods, hums. “Mmhmm.”
And Taehyung does, before leading them back out.
The air outside is brisk again, hitting Jungkook like a wall the second they leave the small store. He lets out a shiver as Taehyung begins walking back in the direction of the cafe, stopping a little over halfway back, and watches in awe as Taehyung makes a few quiet noises, almost clicks, and a cat emerges.
Taehyung reaches into the bag and takes out the large stuffed bear, placing it on the ground and patting its fur smooth, calling the cat over with more clicks. Jungkook watches silently, amazed.
The cat, purring, climbs onto one of the legs and settles into a vaguely loaf-shaped ball, purring loudly and snuggled warm against the fur.
Taehyung looks at him, almost sheepishly.
“Tae, you… bought a plushie, just for this stray cat?”
Taehyung nods with conviction.
“If I notice too many cats in one area, especially if it’s cold out, I like to give them little beds. I don’t have much money but it feels really nice to know they’re safe and warm and sleeping on something cute and cozy. It makes me happy.”
Jungkook feels his heart warm.
“Taehyung,” he says.
Taehyung hums.
“You’re an adorable human being.”
Taehyung giggles, reaches over to Jungkook’s hand, links their pinkies together- it’s not hand holding, not quite, but it tethers them together and Taehyung’s hands are warm from being tucked into his sleeves and the stuffie’s fur, soft and smooth, and Jungkook likes the simplicity of it maybe too much.
(If he also likes how large and pretty Taehyung’s hands are in comparison to his own, he doesn’t say.)
~
Taehyung is nervous, putting the stuffed animal down under Jungkook’s curious gaze. He feels a bit foolish, a bit dumb. But he looks down, pats the stuffie and calls to the cat until she comes over to lay on it.
Taehyung knows almost all the cats in the area. This one he calls Momo, because her meows always seem to be cut short into a ‘mo’ instead of a ‘meow,’ but that could just be his inability to read cat-lips. She curls up on the leg of the bear and Taehyung glances up at Jungkook.
“Tae, you… bought a plushie, just for this stray cat?”
Taehyung almost asks him to repeat himself so he can watch Jungkook’s pretty mouth saying his nickname again- it’s so shocking, so familiarized, that he actually blinks hard and nods, maybe a bit too hard.
He tells Jungkook about his buying-for-the-cats habits and gets to watch Jungkook say his name again, barely registering in his brain. He hums.
“You’re an adorable human being.” Jungkook says. His lips pull into a smile as he finishes saying it, and Taehyung feels giddy- lets out a giggle, feels his cheeks pinken. He stands and reaches over, grabbing at Jungkook’s pinky with his own, and- god, why is he nervous putting their pinkies together?- noting, almost too slowly, that Jungkook’s skin is cold.
Silently he wishes he had enough courage to hold his entire hand, even just under the premise of warming him up.
They walk for a while, before Jungkook stops, pulling on his pinky to get him to stop too. He lets go of Taehyung’s finger and he pushes down his disappointment as Jungkook takes his backpack off of one shoulder and swings it around front to bring his skateboard out.
“Wanna try?” He asks, once Taehyung looks up at him. Taehyung nods excitedly, he’s never been on a skateboard before!
“I’ve never been on a skateboard before!” he says. Jungkook grins and his heart leaps.
“Well now’s your chance.” He lays the board flat on the ground, foot behind the wheels, holding it in place.
He actually takes Taehyung’s hand to guide him onto the board, and Taehyung’s brain short circuits for a second before snapping back to rational thought. Taehyung feels himself, rather than consciously, try to tighten his grip on Jungkook’s hand, wobbling on the board, unbalanced.
He feels disconnected, standing up on the board. He can’t feel the vibrations of the street as easily, can’t feel cars coming- he can’t feel his sounds like he usually can, and it unsettles him.
But he trusts Jungkook, perhaps a little more than he should. He trusts that he’ll be safe with him and, if the knees of most of Jungkook’s pants are anything to go by, he has a lot of experience riding skateboards. (the knees indicate a lot of falling, though, but he chooses specifically to ignore that.) He lets out a shaky breath as Jungkook removes his foot from in front of the wheels, hand still holding onto Taehyung’s own, and begins walking next to him, slowly.
He locks his knees, wobbling a little. Jungkook says something he can’t quite see, and the feeling of the board clattering over the sidewalk is so unfamiliar, so disturbing to his senses. He shivers.
Jungkook stays holding onto his hand, though, not letting go or letting him let go- he keeps him steady, walks slowly enough for Taehyung to get used to the rumble travelling up his legs, leads them forward. Taehyung lets out a squeak as the board shifts under him, and he tips backwards, the falling sensation making him gasp.
But there’s a strong arm around his back, and the board is gone from under his feet, and Jungkook’s face is suddenly so close, Taehyung can see a tiny scar on his left cheek and wonders numbly what it’s from- before his eyes flicker down to Jungkook’s lips, and he watches as Jungkook absently licks them to keep them from getting chapped.
Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat. He could kiss him, like this. They could kiss.
They should kiss.
But they don’t.
Jungkook flushes, pulls him upright and rubs the back of his neck shyly as he looks for his board, locates it.
“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles, barely visible, starting a light jog to get to the board lying discarded next to a building. Taehyung feels like an idiot, standing there as his friend runs off, cheeks burning with a heavy blush and anxiety curling up high in his stomach.
It’s probably for the best, he thinks. Jungkook wouldn’t want to kiss him if he knew the truth, he thinks. Jungkook probably doesn’t even think of him that way, he thinks. They’re on a date by pure coincidence, he thinks, and then comes to the conclusion that this is just Jungkook giving him a shot out of pity for the awkward boy with lame jokes and boring stories and weird habits. He swallows and looks down.
In the short time that Jungkook is gone, Taehyung does a lot of thinking.
~
They head down a different street, after Jungkook retrieves his board. He hadn’t expected Taehyung to be so quiet when he returned, already missing the joking tone of his voice. He had the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something, and any slight movement would send him toppling over one side or another- and he didn’t know what either side was.
It’s like something changed.
No doubt it’s from when Jungkook was literally one blink away from kissing the breath from his lungs, but he’s not thinking about that. Compartmentalizing.
This time, it’s him who reaches for Taehyung’s pinky. They loop together and Taehyung looks over at him, surprised. Jungkook glances at him and smiles softly before averting his eyes, unable to see the cute spread of hope on the other boy’s face for fear of feeling it too strongly himself.
Taehyung is an open book that Jungkook loves reading but sometimes cannot bare to progress in for fear of losing the little details that may go unnoticed at the first hasty glance.
It's a quieter walk this time. The only sounds are their footsteps and the distant rush of traffic, the cold air warding off too many other pedestrians. It was so empty that it almost felt homey, like their own little bubble.
A fragile bubble.
Taehyung checks his phone and curses quietly. Jungkook looks over, a question forming on his lips, but he is met with an answer.
“I have to be back at my dorm by four,” he says. “There's a lecture at four-thirty that I’ve been anticipating all week!”
It is, apparently, three-thirty.
They end up running to the nearest bus stop and taking it in the direction of Taehyung’s uni, slumping against the plastic chairs with some sense of relief.
Jungkook taps the back of Taehyung’s hand absently, having dared to hold it properly. His hands are warm, even in the cold weather, fingers long and sleek, pretty. Jungkook very much likes how his hands fit in the spaces between his fingers and how comforting it is. Taehyung rambles on about this lecture, about how long he's waited for it- apparently his professor is giving an in-depth examination of the evolution and composition of Van Gogh’s complete works, the psychology behind each piece, and a bit of background on Van Gogh himself. (It's safe to say that Van Gogh may just be one of, if not Taehyung’s most favorite.)
Once they get off, Taehyung fixes him with a pouty look, tugging gently on his hand.
“Walk me to my room?” he asks. Jungkook feels his cheeks warm, but he smiles wide.
“Of course!”
The scenery is beautiful. Taehyung's campus isn't too big, and a lot of it is covered in trees and ivy. There are a lot of ponds, lilies on the surface and turtles surfacing every now and again, and only a few students are out right now.
“Around this time is when a lot of students either go out to lunch for study groups or hole up in their dorms,” he explains, like he knew what Jungkook was thinking. They come to a stop outside a door, he assumes Taehyung's, and Jungkook smiles.
“But not you.”
“No,” Taehyung smiles sheepishly, “not me.”
Jungkook glances at the door, taking mental note of the number in case he visits here again. Taehyung watches, licks his lips, clears his throat like he's not sure how to say something.
Jungkook lets him take his time.
“Thank you,” he says. “For today, and for walking me back, and for- giving me a chance, I guess? It's probably not everyday you get a napkin from a stranger asking you out. I really appreciate this.”
Jungkook is taken aback.
“I didn't go out with you because you asked,” Jungkook says, making sure he looks at Taehyung as he does. “I went out with you because honestly, even if you hadn't asked or introduced yourself via napkin, I would have wanted to.”
Taehyung opens his mouth. Closes it. Smiles, softly at first, then wider, until it threatens to stretch his face unnaturally.
“You're a great person, Taehyung-ah,” he continues. He brings their laced hands up to his face and places a small kiss on the flat of Taehyung’s hand, just beside his knuckles. A blush spreads across Taehyung's cheeks.
He leans in, slowly, gives Taehyung time to react, to pull away if he wants, but he seems frozen.
Jungkook places a kiss on his cheek, unlacing their hands and smiling at him gently. Taehyung looks shocked.
“I had a nice time,” Jungkook says. “I’d really like to see you again.”
Taehyung is still frozen, still blushing.
“Tae, you're scaring me.”
He blinks, looks down, cheeks darkening. Jungkook thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen (but Taehyung always manages to outdo himself on that, anyway.)
“I-I, um,” he mumbles.
Jungkook smiles, reaching for his hand again and giving it a squeeze. Taehyung looks at him.
“Quit stalling and get ready for your lecture,” he says. “Text me afterwards, okay? Enjoy yourself.”
He gives Taehyung's knuckles another kiss as Taehyung agrees quietly, smiling and blushing, and honestly, it's so cute, dammit.
He turns to leave and the last thing he hears from Taehyung before he unlocks his door is a quiet, giddy laugh.
~
Taehyung considers this one of the best days he’s had in awhile. He sits up close in the lecture, reading the professor’s lips even in the dimly lit room with the large on-screen slideshow of art blaring brightly. All he can focus on is Jungkook’s lips, warm on his hand, on his cheek.
Nothing about today seems real.
Even the cliche of him literally falling into Jungkook’s arms seems too similar to a movie than to any real event; he feels like he’s in awe. In a movie, maybe. (a small part of his brain is getting ready to say the L word, but he shuts it down immediately. It’s the first fucking date, Taehyung, control yourself. )
The lecture goes smoothly, as close to perfect as Taehyung could have imagined it to be- the paintings featured are familiar to him, displayed on the wall in striking detail, colors and textures crisp and clear enough to see even from a mile away. The professor covers a lot, too, and Taehyung writes down what he can- his writing gets sloppier when he isn’t looking at it, so it might be unintelligible later, but that’s okay. He’ll figure it out.
“The thing about Van Gogh,” his professor says, sitting up on the edge of his wooden desk and clicking the projector button, displaying first and foremost the Starry Night, “is that he was not as bright and cheery as his paintings.” Taehyung scribbles down furiously.
“Those of us who are most inspired to create romanticized realities often live in the opposite; these realities become our ideals, our meditative states to live in. The vast majority of Van Gogh’s works feature the ‘happiest’ color- yellow.”
He flips through the Starry Night and to another, Fifteen Sunflowers, then to a self portrait of Van Gogh himself.
“This means that happiness is Van Gogh’s ideal. Most people would interpret this, would interpret him even consuming yellow paint, as a sign of him trying to be happy- others interpret it as wanting to be pretty on the inside, like his idealized worlds.”
Taehyung writes this down as fast as he can.
The professor continues. “But, the actuality is, Van Gogh had a multitude of ailments, both physical and mental. Assigning meaning to actions in these given states is futile unless you are or can put yourself in the exact situations and mindset as the artist themselves; doing so, it’s most plausible to believe that Van Gogh consumed yellow paint because it was high in lead content, at the time, and he wanted to die.”
At this, Taehyung pauses. The professor clicks to another self portrait, featuring Van Gogh with a bandaged ear.
“In one such mental state,” he says quietly, demanding the attention of the class, “He cut off a portion of his own ear. Modern psychologists would call it an acute psychotic episode. He was, afterwards, committed to a mental institution.” Taehyung jots this down, blinking slowly.
“There are many things that can drive an artist to further their craft. Be it social standing, financial state, familial interactions, or any one or combination of disabilities or handicaps- almost always, this factor becomes the incentive behind creating our own idealized world in which we work, perform, present. Quite literally, our weaknesses can become our biggest strength.”
Taehyung blinks again, feeling the words absorb slowly. The professor glances at him and gives a small smile before continuing.
“In capturing the motivation these weaknesses can inspire,” he said, “we, too, can create what defines our ideal and, maybe one day, make it into a reality.”
~
Jungkook goes back home and immediately calls Yoongi. He’s apologetic for bothering him so often about his situation(s) with Taehyung, but Yoongi brushes him off, tells him it’s good that he’s finally getting some emotion out instead of bottling up in his typical ‘bad-boy style.’
“He’s.. God, Yoongi, he’s so cute. I didn’t think one human person could be this cute.” Yoongi’s voice comes out staticky on the other end.
“What did he do?” It sounds more like an accusation than a real question, but most of Yoongi’s questions do, anyway, with the way he slurs.
“He dragged me into a baby store,” Jungkook says. Yoongi groans.
“And Yoongi, get this- he spent a half hour looking at the stuffed animals- picking out the right one, right?”
“Right,” Yoongi says slowly.
“He gets a big one, this fluffy white bear. He gets a smaller one, too, and.. Shit, it’s still in my backpack, fuck.”
Yoongi laughs quietly.
“You let him put it in your backpack?”
Jungkook blushes, thankful they aren’t on a video call. Saves himself some ridicule.
“Well I didn’t expect him to carry it around,” he mumbles. Yoongi cackles. “Anyway,” he says, “He takes this big stuffed bear and walks around outside until we get to an area with a lot of stray cats- he knows where the stray cats are, Yoongi, he fuckin’ loves cats- and he just sets it down on the ground and calls a cat over.”
There’s a pause.
“What?”
“Exactly! He’s some sort of cat whisperer or something. He bought an expensive, extremely soft stuffed animal just to put it down for some cats!!”
Yoongi is quiet, the line almost entirely dead. But then he speaks.
“That’s adorable,” He says, “but I don’t see why it’s problematic enough for you to call me.”
Jungkook laughs bitterly.
“That’s not even what made me call,” he says. Yoongi is silent, an invitation for him to continue.
“So, we were walking, and I thought he’d look cute on my board, so I offered to let him try to ride it-”
“You did WHAT?” Yoongi yells. “You actually let someone touch your board?”
Jungkook coughs and ignores the implication.
“Well, he fell, and I managed to catch him like some sort of drama cliche, but Yoongi, we were thisclose to kissing, but I didn’t do it, I panicked.”
Yoongi hums.
“Did he look like he wanted you to kiss him?”
Jungkook scoffs.
“How am I supposed to know what that looks like?”
Yoongi laughs.
“You’ve never kissed anyone, have you, Kook?”
Jungkook blushes and thanks the universe once again for deciding not to video call.
“Shut up.”
“Oh my god,” Yoongi laughs.
“Shut up,” Jungkook hisses.
“Oh my god, I’m so gonna tell Taehyung,” Yoongi croons. Jungkook lets out a screech.
“You are absolutely not embarrassing me in front of him,” he yells. Yoongi laughs again, high pitched and free. Jungkook frowns as if Yoongi was here, phone still pressed to his ear.
“Try and stop me.”
“I’ll tell Jimin about your oppa kink,” Jungkook warns.
Yoongi’s voice drops to a dangerous low. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try and stop me,” he mocks. Yoongi yells.
~
from: me<
hey~ how’re things?
>from: taetae
hi!! the lecture was really nice and now im petitioning my roommate to go out for food
from: me<
isnt it a bit early for dinner?
>from: taetae
not at all. dont u know im a grandpa?
from: me<
youre more like a cute little toddler tbh
>from: taetae
if this is about the stuffed animals istg
from: me<
no but that was really sweet
those cats have a bed now!
>from: taetae
they all deserve one but i am very broke now
hence why im asking my roommate to take me for dinner~
from: me<
aw you spent all your money getting that?
>from: taetae
im a college student do u really expect me to have more money?
ignore the fact that i get paid later this week
from: me<
you work the cafe, right?
>from: taetae
i sing, but i also help out, so the manager gives me a paycheck for both
i didnt even have to apply, which makes it pretty dope
from: me<
dude
thats so cool
im scraping by on a scholarship and student loans
most places dont accept a skateboard as a form of transportation ://
>from: taetae
WHAT
but it gets u from a to b????
from: me<
EXACTLY!! like if yall dont want me working here just say so
>from: taetae
also do u have the other plushie?? i cant find it anywhere ;-;
from: me<
i do, hes still in my backpack actually!
do you want me to stop by the cafe i could drop him off..?
>from: taetae
PLEASE
i didnt even get a chance to name him yet
from: me<
any name ideas?
>from: taetae
i really like suga!! white like his fur, yknow?
from: me<
suga it is!
when do you work?
>from: taetae
would thursday work for u?
from: me<
checking rn
Yes!
>from: taetae
Aaa a A a A a a a A
~
The week passes by in a blur. Taehyung can barely contain his excitement and ends up humming softly to himself as he wipes down a table. There’s a tap on his shoulder and he turns to see Jungkook, a sly smile on his lips and a slight blush across his cheeks. He’s wearing a black tee, a black trench coat, and a black beanie, acid-washed jeans and black boots. His arms are behind his back.
“Hi,” Taehyung mumbles. Jungkook smiles, eyes crinkling behind his glasses. Glasses.
“Hi,” he says. He pulls flowers out from behind his back, yellow sunflowers and delicate lavender wrapped in a transparent paper and tied with a yellow ribbon. He’s also holding the plushie, Suga, and smiling like he’s embarrassed.
Taehyung smiles, blushes, laughs a little- feels out of his element.
Nobody’s ever given him flowers before..
“Nobody’s ever given me flowers before,” he whispers, hoping it’s loud enough for Jungkook to hear.
He does, and he smiles, eyes crinkling and invisible bravado crumbling as he looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. He glances up at Taehyung.
“I wanted to do something nice for you,” he says.
“Bringing the bear back is nice enough,” he mumbles, blushing. “This is, like, beyond nice.”
Jungkook shrugs, looking pleased with himself.
“I really like them, Jungkookie, thank you.” Taehyung can’t stop himself from letting the nickname slip. Jungkook smiles wider.
He reaches down, places the items on the table, and shyly and slides his hand into Taehyung’s, and he can feel his heart leap. Jungkook was so soft today.
“You’re so soft today.”
Jungkook giggles, and Taehyung loves seeing the gentle shake of his shoulders.
In the background, Namjoon and Hoseok watch Jungkook walk in, arm behind his back with flowers pressed close against his shoulder blades, a bear dangling by one arm in the same hand.
Hoseok bumps Namjoon’s shoulder, leaning back with his arms comfortably crossed. He looks up at the other man as they analyze the bouquet.
“Do you know what lavender symbolizes?” he jokes.
Namjoon nods, serious and beautiful.
“Typically as a gift it represents something being delicate and treasured,” he says. “Sunflowers symbolize adoration.”
“Oh,” Hoseok says softly, all traces of joking gone from his voice.
“Yeah,” Namjoon echoes, leaning back to let his shoulder rest against Hoseok’s. “Oh.”
~
Jungkook sits and watches Taehyung sing with nothing but infatuation in his eyes. If Taehyung didn’t like him so much, it’d be almost weird, but as it is, it’s so endearing that as he sings, Taehyung finds himself smiling. Jungkook smiles when he catches this, seated in the booth closest to Taehyung and listening to him sing like it’s all he could want in the world.
Jungkook mouths ‘bathroom’ to Taehyung and stands, headed towards the small cafe bathroom. Taehyung watches him go, and stands, barefoot as always, singing as always, infatuated with Jungkook, as always.
The song ends while Jungkook is in the bathroom. Taehyung takes a deep, steadying breath, and signs the next song to Hoseok, telling him to play something quickly, before Jungkook comes back out and-
And there he is, watching Taehyung sign with wide eyes.
Taehyung’s stomach plummets. Jungkook looks shocked, and rightfully so. Hoseok looks like he’s caught in something he doesn’t want to be. Namjoon looks for all the world like he’s trying to make his large frame invisible.
The world slows to a standstill.
The sounds of the cafe no longer travel through the soles of Taehyung’s feet. Instead they fly at him, pound dully against his skin, little pricks that drive him insane. His eyes start to water, and-
And they’re all standing there, unmoving. Still. Taehyung lets out a choked gasp and turns to run, not even bothering to get his shoes as he rushes out the door. He feels stupid.
He’d messed up. He hadn’t been quick enough and Jungkook probably thinks he’s a filthy liar now. He’d fucked up, majorly, worse than anything he’d ever done- that knowledge settles in his stomach like a stone, large and cold, heavy.
He runs. He runs, and runs, until he can no longer recognize which street he’s on or what corner he made when. He runs until he gets lost and then he runs more, his lungs burning, throat constricting, threatening to close up.
He runs until the cold freezes his toes and the pounding of his feet on the cement no longer hurts, but becomes a constant.
He runs until he trips. Stumbles, falls to his knees against a building.
He cries.
His sobs leave in ragged gasps, and his breaths enter in jagged shards. Everything hurts, now.
His feet hurt. His lungs hurt. He can’t gasp in enough air and his head pounds painfully. His hands hurt where his nails dug in.
His heart hurts.
He feels like an idiot.
Not only did he leave, but he’d let Jungkook catch him signing- let Jungkook find out that he was, essentially, a liar.
He should have told him. His brain ridicules him for not telling Jungkook, for having him find out this way, for running off like a baby and getting himself lost- god, he chokes on a sob, he’s so fucking lost, - for feeling things for someone who he knew he was going to disappoint like this.
In his pocket, his phone buzzes.
He pulls it out in hands shaking almost too badly to hold onto it and sees that, whilst he was running, he’d missed a multitude of texts and calls, from both Hoseok and Jungkook.
Mostly from Jungkook, actually.
>from: hobi
Please tell me you’re okay?
Jungkook is really worried
>from: kookie^^
tae
taehyung please
where are you?
please tell me you’re safe
i cant find you anywhere im so fucking worried
are you okay?
taehyung
pleas e
Taehyung chokes on his tears again.
There are four missed calls. One of them is from Hoseok, not too long after he ran out, and the other three are from Jungkook.
Taehyung lets out another ragged sob, curling in on himself and trying not to be too loud. He can’t tell, but it feels like his sobs are shaking the world.
He sits and cries, for a long time.
After it’s done, he wipes off his face, sniffles hard.
Again, he feels like an idiot.
He sends Jungkook a text, wiping furiously at the tears that are threatening to spill out again.
from: me<
im sorry
The response comes through almost instantly.
>from: kookie^^
where are you???
jesus tae i was so worried about you
are you okay??
Taehyung smiles a watery smile.
from: me<
im okay, just
very lost
>from: kookie^^
send me your location, love
ill come get you
~
Jungkook didn’t know- couldn’t possibly have known. Taehyung, eccentric, bare-footed Taehyung, standing millions of miles above him on the small cafe shop stage, singing with a lovely deep timbre- Taehyung, gentle, smiley Taehyung, whose hands were almost as large as his heart- lovely, amazing Taehyung, who sang with the breadth of the universe contained in his voice- is deaf. Jungkook had talked to him, and he’d understood, even responded out loud. Jungkook curses at himself. He should have known that the boy staring at his lips had more innocent intentions than he’d been willing to hope for. He should have paid more attention in school- maybe taken a sign language class?? He doubts that his past self would have been willing to do so..
But now, currently, it was all he could hope to do to find Taehyung and make sure he was safe- and then he’d start learning sign language. Taehyung hadn’t outright told him, hadn’t shown signs. He’d smiled at Jungkook’s jokes and laughed when the wind kicked up to push their hair at awkward angles, sang for him and for the cafe-goers, talked in cutesy voices to the stray cats lingering outside the cafe; he talks a lot, actually, sometimes bordering on too much, but Jungkook likes it.
Maybe Taehyung didn’t want people to know about his disability.
Maybe Jungkook wasn’t supposed to have found out so easily.
Maybe it should matter more to him that his crush is deaf, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t care at all and honestly he doesn’t see why he should.
Why should he care when Taehyung’s voice is still a deep velvet against his senses? When Taehyung’s hands are soft and warm against his own calloused palms? When Taehyung, gentle and caring Taehyung, orders a grilled chicken salad just to pick out the bits of meat and give them to the strays outside the cafe? When Taehyung, generous, loving Taehyung, buys stuffed animals just to give stray cats a place to sleep?
Jungkook inhales deep and looks at the location Taehyung sent him. Forwards it to Hoseok, tells him he’s safe, and heads out.
He runs to the location, feet pounding on the pavement. Taehyung’s body is hard to make out, but he’s there, slumped against the side of a building, looking tinier than ever.
Jungkook comes to a stop in front of him and immediately drops to his knees as Taehyung looks up at him. He takes Taehyung’s face in his hands and brushes away the tears with his thumbs, breathless.
“Taetae,” he says. “God, are you okay?” Taehyung sniffles and nods, eyes flickering up form what Jungkook now recognizes as reading his lips.
“Tae baby I was so worried,” he says, breath rushing out so fast the endearment slips past his lips. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Taehyung nods again and lets Jungkook pull him into his lap, cradle him against his chest. Once he’s curled up there he lets out another breathless sob and Jungkook’s heart pangs. He strokes Taehyung’s hair, kisses his head, rocks him back and forth- he tries his best to comfort him, he really does.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispers. Over and over, he whispers.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,”
Jungkook tightens the hold he has on Taehyung’s shoulders instead of replying.
When he’d walked out of the bathroom, he’d been shocked to see Taehyung talking to Hoseok via sign language- especially since both of them could speak. He’d been under the assumption that Taehyung could hear him, but seeing that proven wrong was shocking.
He wasn’t mad. He accepted Taehyung no matter what, and he only wanted to protect him- to make sure he was alright.
Taehyung was doing a lot worse than Jungkook was after finding out his not-boyfriend was deaf, and Jungkook held him through the tears.
Taehyung curls into him, sobs gone, whimpering softly.
“I should have told you,” he mumbles. “Please don’t hate me.”
Jungkook pulls him back by the shoulders and holds him there, watching his cutie’s tear-stained cheeks glisten.
“I don’t hate you, Taebaby,” he says. Taehyung sniffles.
“But I-”
“You did nothing wrong.”
Jungkook’s face leaves no room for argument.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says again, weakly.
“You’re okay, yeah? We’re okay. Nothing is different.” Taehyung hiccups.
“You’re still you, and I still like you,” he continues, “and I mean it when I say that, Tae.”
“You… still like me?” He repeats.
Jungkook lets his hands slide down Taehyung’s slender shoulders and over his arms to grasp his hands, tenderly.
“Yes, silly boy, I still like you.”
Taehyung smiles a watery smile and looks down before glancing back up at him.
“I like you too,” he mumbles.
Jungkook’s heart does a funny thing in his chest.
He leans in and kisses Taehyung gently on the lips, tasting salty tears.
“Be mine,” he says as he pulls away. Taehyung blinks at him, looks like he wants to cry again.
“But I’m-”
“Perfect,” Jungkook interjects. “You are perfect.”
Taehyung lets out a small squeak of embarrassment. Jungkook smiles softly at him, squeezes his hands.
“Yes,” Taehyung mumbles. Jungkook turns his hands and laces their fingers this time, pulling him close again and letting out a deep sigh.
He traces mindless patterns on Taehyung’s back.
You’re perfect, and you’re mine, they say. Taehyung sighs too, a bit shaky from crying, and leans into him.
Over the approaching pounding of Hoseok’s and Namjoon’s sneakers, it seems to say,
Thank you.
Later that night, Taehyung sleeping soundly in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest, Jungkook messages Yoongi, knowing he’d be up with his practically nocturnal schedule.
He tells him about Taehyung, surprised to only see Yoongi’s small ‘mhm’ in affirmation.
from: me<
wait
you knew??
>from: grandpa-hyung
I saw him sign to Hoseok when we all went to the cafe
from: me<
why didnt you say anything??
>from: grandpa-hyung
Not my place to say.
He understands Yoongi a lot. He respects that he’d given Taehyung that respect. He tells him as much.
Jungkook breathes out a small but heavy breath, feeling Taehyung snuggle closer. He’d been inseparable from Jungkook all night, insisting on coming back to his dorm with him because he didn’t want to leave his side, that badly . Jungkook assumes it’s his usual affection combined with the relief.
>from: grandpa-hyung
He’s a good kid, Kook. Take care of him.
Jungkook presses a kiss to Taehyung’s soft hair.
I will, it says.
~~~