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Jeongguk was five when he met Taehyung.
The day was cloudy, and the promise of rain left most of the park empty. Jeongguk had insisted his mother take him anyway, on the verge of a tantrum when his mother relented. Whether there would be other kids to play with had never bothered Jeongguk, it didn’t make a difference to him either way, and he liked to think that he preferred being alone. Whenever he asked his mother why the other kids didn’t like him, she told him that he didn’t need them, they didn’t understand his potential.
Now, sitting beside the swingset with his most prized possession (a bright red rocket ship), he didn’t notice when another small body plopped itself down in front of him, watching with curious eyes. That is until they laughed.
Jeongguk looked up like a deer caught in headlights at the sound. Another boy, messy brown hair and a grin that took up most of his face, was sitting and laughing in delight. At him.
Scrunching up his nose, he narrowed his eyes and demanded, “Why are you laughing?”
The boy stifled his giggles before humming, “You looked like you were having fun. I want to have fun, too.”
“I was, but now you’re here,” he frowned.
The boy tapped his chin, “That’s a problem, isn’t it?”
Unsure, Jeongguk nodded warily.
Suddenly, the boy lit up, seemingly pleased with himself, “What if we play together! Then we could both have fun!”
Jeongguk blinked. Playing together meant sharing his rocket ship, his favorite toy. He had never liked sharing be it food or toys, but... he could make a friend.
Jeongguk shoved the toy towards the other, though keeping his eyes trained on the ground, he said shyly, “Okay, we can play together.”
The boy beamed, clapping his hands together, “Yay! I’m Kim Taehyung!”
“Jeon Jeongguk,” he giggled quietly. Taehyung was funny when he was excited, loud and energetic.
“How old are you, Jeonggukkie?”
“Five.”
“I’m seven,” Taehyung seemed smug about this. “You have to call me hyung.”
Jeongguk pouted, but as they pretended to be astronauts, landing on planets they couldn’t pronounce in Jeongguk’s red rocket ship, he found that he didn’t mind so much.
Growing up, Jeongguk learned a lot from the people around him.
He learned that liking those of the same gender was wrong from the harsh slap of his father. He learned that words, above all things, were cruel from the other kids at school. He also learned that Kim Taehyung couldn’t protect him from everything, though that never stopped him from trying.
He was in his first year of middle school, walking in with his head bowed. It wasn’t long before he was roughly grabbed by the arm. The older kids snickered as they cornered Jeongguk against the wall, a whimper already escaping his lips.
He knew what was coming, had heard it whispered at the back of the class, had memorized each word so he saw them when he closed his eyes right before bed. They didn’t dare say anything when Taehyung was around, though, the elder well-liked for his boisterous personality and charming smiles. Jeongguk could already feel his heart clenching, the tears threatening to fall as he wished for his hyung to tell him everything would be okay.
He lowered himself against the wall when they left, finally.
Worthless. Faggot. Waste of space.
Silently, he cried.
When Taehyung found him, he was still smiling, albeit a little out of breath, “Hey, Guk! Where were you! I didn’t see you at–”
Jeongguk furiously brushed his tears away, fumbling to put on a wobbly smile, “Hi, hyung. Y-Yeah, sorry I wasn’t there, just needed to get some f-fresh air.”
Taehyung stared at him. Jeongguk mentally scolded himself for crying so much, he shouldn’t over these kinds of things, oh he was so stupid–
Suddenly, there were arms around him, and Jeongguk couldn’t stop himself from burrowing himself in Taehyung’s sweater, letting out shaky breaths. They stayed like that for a while, Taehyung whispering words of comfort and stroking his hair while he tried to calm down.
“‘m sorry,” Jeongguk mumbled.
The older pulled away, gently tilting his head up to look into his shiny doe eyes, “Gukkie, who did this?”
At this, Jeongguk started shaking again, promising that it was okay and that they wouldn’t do it again. He could tell his hyung was angry, he had always hated seeing him cry. His fists had been clenched, and he was uncharacteristically quiet during their walk home, but he didn’t push anymore.
After that though, somehow the whispers got quieter, and Jeongguk felt something warm in his chest whenever he caught sight of that familiar boxy grin.
He thought that maybe, if his hyung was by his side, maybe he could get through it.
As time went on, Jeongguk’s parents made the conscious effort to keep their son away from the Kim family. They believed that, in some way, it was Taehyung’s fault that Jeongguk was the way that he was.
Jeongguk earned A’s in all his classes (not good enough, he should be taking more extracurriculars).
Jeongguk stopped inviting Taehyung over after school (he would only be allowed to talk to the older at school).
Jeongguk took Jieun, a nice girl in his math class, to prom (he didn’t see Taehyung there).
He was in his last year of high school, the ever foreboding college coming up sooner than he’d like. Sitting at the edge of his bed, Jeongguk fiddled with the photo card in his hand. He had never felt more alone than he did right then, in the dark while the rain and wind sang their sad tune. In the picture (it was a simple selca, Jeongguk hated that it had the ability to make him so emotional), Taehyung’s eyes were blown wide as Jeongguk snapped the image. They had been on their way home from school, that day, stopping by an ice cream parlor that had opened recently.
Jeongguk missed it.
He missed the days when his hyung would make him smile, genuinely smile . He missed Taehyung’s crazy ideas, he missed his random thoughts, he missed him .
A loud thump at his window effectively startled him out of his nostalgia. When it came again, Jeongguk stood warily before making his way towards it. He grabbed the closest thing on the way (which happened to be a pillow, but maybe, he tried to reason, the intruder would be distracted enough by a pillow in the face for him to make a move). Unlatching it, Jeongguk made his way onto the balcony, though confused now that there didn’t seem to be anything there.
Something tapped his shoulder, and it took him less than a second to whirl around, eyes tightly shut, and swing his weapon (pillow) at whatever it was behind him.
His confusion only grew at a familiar low chuckle of “aren’t we a little too old for pillow fights?”
“T-Tae?”
“Ya,” Taehyung smiled, eyes gentle in the moonlight, “that’s hyung to you, brat.”
For a moment, Jeongguk didn’t know what to do. Then–
“You– you have to go,” he was already pushing Taehyung back, eyes darting around. “How did you get up here? God, I can’t–”
“Jeongguk, hey,” Taehyung wrapped his hands around his wrists, holding him in place as he tilted his head. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, you’re already pushing me away?”
“I can’t– ”
Taehyung kept him in place, “Tell me why, I deserve to know why, at least.”
“H-Hyung, please–”
“ Jeongguk, ” the older boy insisted.
Jeongguk’s shoulders sagged as he took in a shuddering breath. He had almost forgotten the smell of Taehyung’s faint vanilla cologne ( almost).
“My parents, they’ll–” he choked on another breath. Everything was catching up to him, he felt so small, and Taehyung had always made him feel safe, comforted. “Hyung, you have to go.” He pushed weakly at the other’s chest, trying to get him to go when all he wanted was to tell him to stay, please stay .
Taehyung’s eyes hardened. He had seen the bruises that littered the younger’s arms after a particularly hard night, had held him through nights when he finally broke under the pressure he took on willingly or not. It took everything in him not to march up to the Jeon’s door and finally, finally, do something, but he knew that it would just make things worse. In a sense, they already were. He had come on a whim, a hastily planned trip that he berated himself for all the way until he had actually seen the other sitting on his bed, looking at a picture of them. Jeongguk looked so small, a shell of the person Taehyung had grown to (although it took him awhile to realize it) love.
“Jeon Jeongguk,” Taehyung wrapped his arms firmly around him, looking down when he feels the younger shift in question. “I am never leaving your side again. I don’t care what your parents say, you’re going to university soon, and I’ll be there for you. I’m staying, Guk.”
Jeongguk’s eyes glistened with fear, doubt, but also happiness.
He sighed against Taehyung, “Stay the night, Tae?”
Taehyung smiled, “Whatever you want, Gukkie.”
And Jeongguk thought that, as Taehyung secured an arm around him and they huddled under the sheets, maybe things would be okay.