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Deep down, Yoongi always knew that making rash decisions would one day send him early to his grave.
Usually, his self-control was pretty adequate, but now, with his brain foggy from jet lag and reckless from the small emotional breakdown he had in the shower earlier, pressing send was something that just... happened. He didn’t mean to do it, he simply wanted to write his feelings down and maybe reread them a few times before putting his phone away and going to sleep, but life had other plans for him.
“Oh shit,” he whispers, his vision tunneling so that all he can see is sent. “Oh shit, oh shit, shit, shit—“
Hoseok lowers his book to look him up and down from his bed.
“You okay?”
“I need to—“ Yoongi wheezes, kicking the covers aside and springing out of his bed. “Taehyung’s phone, where is it?”
“Probably in Taehyung’s pocket,” Hoseok offers, still looking at him like he was questioning his mental state. “Are you okay?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer. He sprints out of the room so fast he barely even hears Hoseok’s question.
The hotel's corridor seems to have somehow magically grown longer since the last time he set foot in it. Taehyung’s room is on the other end of the hallway and, trying to be as quiet as possible, he rushes towards it, but it’s like in a nightmare; the more desperate he grows, the farther away the room seems to be. When he finally reaches it and finds the door unlocked a thought that maybe not all is lost flashes through his mind.
“Tae—“ he gasps, stumbling into the room, nearly tripping over his feet.
He was hoping that Taehyung would be asleep but just as his luck would have it, Taehyung is half-lying in his bed, tapping away on his laptop. He looks up from it when Yoongi barges into his room and pushes back the hood of the oversized hoodie he liked to borrow from Namjoon to sleep in.
“Hmm?”
Yoongi pauses, his mind racing. Taehyung’s phone is lying on the nightstand in a pile of scarves and neckties, screen down, and since he knows it’s been on vibrate ever since Taehyung got it, there’s a good chance the message wasn’t opened yet.
Yoongi needs to be smart about it.
“Why are you up?” he asks, slowly shuffling closer to the bed and peeking at the phone out of the corner of his eye, like a predator trying not to startle its prey.
“I think I’m still a little worked up from our performance,” Taehyung sighs. “Why?”
Yoongi hesitates.
“I, uh… I need your phone.” He tries to sound casual, but Taehyung knows him too well to fall for that. He sits up, squinting at him suspiciously and picking his phone up from the nightstand.
“Why?”
He looks at the screen, his eyebrows shooting up. Yoongi launches himself at him, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, but Taehyung is quicker; he’s already on his feet, keeping the phone high in the air, out of Yoongi’s reach.
“Tae, give me that—“
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Taehyung chuckles, turning around to make reaching for the phone even more difficult for Yoongi. “That’s a text from you, I wanna read it.”
Yoongi briefly considers kicking Taehyung’s ankle but before he gets to make up his mind, Taehyung is already halfway through the room, opening the door to the bathroom. Yoongi throws himself after him, but Taehyung slams the door in his face, nearly breaking his nose. The lock clicks so loudly Yoongi grits his teeth, pulling on the handle with his entire body weight, even though he knows it’s useless.
“Taehyung!” he yells, letting go of the handle and taking a step back. “Tae, open up or—“ he takes a desperate look around the room, scanning it for something that could give him leverage. “Or I’m gonna cut up your clothes.”
A loud snort comes from the other side of the door.
“Go ahead, knock yourself out. You know I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
Yoongi groans, slumping down onto the floor next to the door. He briefly wonders if he could break it down and how much he’d have to pay for that, but that still wouldn’t mean he’d get his hands on Taehyung’s phone. Fucking great.
He really fucked up this time. Fucked up with a capital F, bolded and underlined. All because he allowed himself to think, to take in all the love and support they received from their fans, all the hardships and struggles they had to go through, and all that was still in front of them - the expectations, the goals they wanted to reach. It made him emotional, vulnerable, and for a short moment the walls he built around his heart to protect himself came crumbling down. The first text he sent was to Jungkook, telling him how proud of him he was, but judging by the lack of response, Jungkook was probably already asleep.
The second one took him more time to write. There were so many things he wanted to tell Taehyung, he didn’t know where to start.
He knew that Taehyung looked up to him, he even told him he loved him a few times, and Yoongi had a funny feeling a few of those weren’t exactly platonic. Sure, Taehyung told everyone he considered close that he loved them, but this was different. There were times when Yoongi would turn around to catch Taehyung staring at his lips and Taehyung would look away immediately with a blush dusting his cheeks pink. Or the time they got drunk together and he found himself and Taehyung alone in the kitchen and Taehyung touched his cheek, standing so close that all he’d have to do was to lean down and—
It wasn’t proof, not really, and Yoongi knew it would be ridiculous of him to assume anything, but, late at night, when he was alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but let himself imagine. Hope. Maybe Taehyung had a silly little puppy crush on him, which was all Yoongi could really count on, but his own feelings were much more… scary. It’d be difficult to judge him, really, anyone who’s ever met Taehyung would fall in love with him at least for a short moment. Yoongi’s short moment lasted since he could remember and showed no signs of ending. It petrified him, so he tried locking those feelings away in the darkest corner of his mind, but he knew that keeping them bottled up like this couldn’t work forever.
And now the dams broke and Yoongi poured his stupid fucking heart into those few lines of text, telling Taehyung how much he meant to him, how he wished Taehyung would feel this way too, how he hoped he could be the person Taehyung wanted to wake up next to, and to make things completely unfixable, he signed it off with the three words that were on the tip of his tongue for years now.
The sound of the lock clicking open yanks him out of his thoughts and he jumps to his feet, getting out of Taehyung’s reach, just in case. His heart lodges itself in his throat and then drops to his stomach when the door opens, revealing Taehyung, standing in the threshold with the strangest look on his face Yoongi has ever seen.
“Tae?” he asks, barely above a whisper, like he was expecting Taehyung to throw himself forward and punch him.
Taehyung slowly lifts his phone, his fingers clutching it so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Did you… did you mean all that?”
Yoongi’s first instinct is to lie.
To tell Taehyung no, it’s a mistake, a punishment for losing a bet, a goddamn movie quote; anything but the truth.
But then he looks into Taehyung’s eyes. They’re swimming with tears, and Yoongi remembers the first time he saw Taehyung cry.
It was before their debut and Yoongi was still getting used to being surrounded by people nearly twenty-four hours a day. Even though their schedule was rough, it was mostly filled with practice sessions. Sometimes he made sure to stay in the studio longer, usually because he wanted to practice some more, but often to just be by himself for a while. He’d just come back to the dorms, thinking he’d find it empty - he needed his space, a moment to be alone, and he knew the rest of the members decided to go out to grab something to eat, a rare treat for them, seeing as they barely had any money of their own.
He toed off his shoes, kicking them off on top of the pile that had accumulated in the hallway, and walked into the living room. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
Taehyung was sitting on the couch, hunched over his knees and sobbing. It wasn’t just crying because you saw a sad movie sobbing, it was a full on crying so hard no sound comes out one. His back was turned and Yoongi had half a mind to quietly back away and let him be, but something stopped him. Looking at him, he felt as if he knew the pain Taehyung was in, and it didn’t feel right to leave him like that.
“Taehyung?”
Taehyung gasped and turned around, his eyes red and swollen. He looked like a kicked puppy and Yoongi knew right then that staying was the right choice.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, quickly wiping his face. “I didn’t know you’ll be back so quickly.”
“I didn’t go— never mind. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” Taehyung said and Yoongi sighed, walking up to him.
“Taehyung. I’m here, we’re in this together, right? You can tell me.”
Taehyung pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, weighing his options. When he started talking he did it without drawing a breath, like he couldn’t stop the stream of words from spilling out of his mouth.
“I… I miss home, I miss my family and friends, and I’m scared, and lonely, and I’m so terrified that we… that we won’t make it, even if we work our fingers to the bone, that it won’t be enough, that it’ll never be eno—“ his voice broke and he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
Yoongi stared at him, feeling awkward and wishing the guys would choose this moment to come back home. He has never been good at this, comforting people and talking about feelings without having time to prepare himself first.
“Hey,” he said, nudging Taehyung’s shoulder with his hip. “Look at me.”
Taehyung made one more small, sniffling sound and let his hands fall into his lap. He glanced up at Yoongi with those big, sad eyes, and Yoongi felt his heart break a little.
“You wanna just chill out with me for a while?” he asked, gesturing to the TV. “We could order something and watch a movie?”
To Taehyung’s credit, he didn’t seem too taken aback by the offer. He jerked his head; something between a shake and a nod, and whispered, playing with the frayed edges of his hoodie:
“I don’t really have the money.”
“Ah.” Yoongi waved his hand dismissively, already pulling out his phone and sitting down on the couch next to him. “You’ll pay me back. Or better yet, you’ll treat me to something super expensive and fancy when we’re really rich, just make sure it has eggs. I love eggs.” Taehyung flashed him an uncertain smile at that and Yoongi took it as a good sign. He grabbed a flier from the hole-in-the-wall place a few blocks away, and told Taehyung to choose whatever he wanted to. Once he called the restaurant and placed their order (wincing in his head at the total), he pocketed his phone and patted Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Alright, what do you wanna watch?”
Taehyung opened his mouth to speak but Yoongi quickly interrupted him, raising his hand, to add:
“No horror movies. I hate those.”
That seemed to lift Taehyung’s spirits better than anything else. He grinned, tilting his head, and raised his eyebrows.
“Aww, really? You’re scared of them?”
“I’m not, they simply don’t hold too much artistic value and—” he started but quickly deflated. “Fine, I’m scared, a little. Don’t tell anyone.”
Taehyung’s smile grew even bigger.
“I won’t.”
Yoongi nodded, satisfied with his answer, and turned the TV on. He flicked through the channels, not really thinking about it, and finally settled on something that looked like a Hollywood blockbuster that, with some luck, could take Taehyung’s mind off things for a while.
“Is this okay?”
“Mm, y-yeah,” Taehyung said. He waited until Yoongi put the remote back on the table and leaned against the backrest, wiggling around to make himself comfortable. “I’m really sorry, by the way, I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“Ah.” Yoongi shrugged, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. “You’ll probably see me like this one day too, so let’s call it even in advance.”
“Okay,” Taehyung sighed, pulling up his feet and circling his arms around his knees.
Yoongi was barely aware of what was happening on the screen. He kept thinking about Taehyung’s words, about the scared, anxious look on his face. It made him angry, not at Taehyung, not at all, but at the world and all the shitty things that could happen to them before they even got to really see it. It wasn’t fair. He was used to being worried, being in a constant battle with his own fears was his daily bread, but why did this poor kid, with his huge freaking dreams and hopes, have to cry his eyes out over this too? So maybe Yoongi wasn’t the best at opening up to people he barely knew, but Taehyung was his bandmate, his flatmate, his fellow trainee, and, above all, his friend, even if they were only at the beginning of that particular road. His heart was breaking for him, he wanted to protect him from all the hardships, lift the weight off his shoulders, but he didn’t know how. Except to maybe try.
He made it through a few more minutes of the movie before he felt like he couldn’t hold it in anymore and he turned around to face Taehyung.
“We’ll be alright, do you hear me?” he asked, Taehyung’s eyes snapping up to him. “I can’t promise you we’ll make it big but I can promise we’ll do it together. You’re not alone, okay? I know it’s all—“ he waved his hand. “really fucking terrifying sometimes, but we can get through it, be each other’s strength, yeah? Even if the whole world is against us, you have me and the guys, and we’ll—” he paused to take a deep breath and calm himself down. “We’ll do our goddamn best because we can trust each other. So start trusting me now, okay? You’re great. You’ll be great.”
Taehyung’s lips trembled like he was about to start crying again, but to Yoongi’s relief he only nodded and Yoongi responded with a nod of his own. He was cringing in his head at his speech, but his words seemed to do the trick and that was all that mattered. The bell rang, Yoongi got up to get their food, and that was it. They never mentioned it again, Taehyung became closer with the rest of the members (who were a little better at comforting him without needing to mull over it first), Yoongi kept quietly taking care of them in his own way.
And now, with those memories coming back, he knows he can’t lie. Even if it means fucking everything up for ever, damaging their relationship beyond repair, he can’t break Taehyung’s trust. He trusted Yoongi then, and he deserves to be able to trust him now.
He shuffles his feet, trying to stretch out the few last seconds he has left, and whispers:
“Yes.”
It feels like hours have passed before Taehyung asks:
“All of it?”
“Yes,” Yoongi whispers, addressing Taehyung’s feet.
“Even the…” a short pause. “The last line?”
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, looking up into Taehyung’s face. There’s a strange, almost shy expression on his face, but Yoongi doesn’t dwell on it.
“Yes,” he breathes out.
Taehyung crosses the distance between them in two short steps, sweeping Yoongi into his arms. Taehyung’s face is wet, tears smearing against Yoongi’s skin, but he barely notices that. Taehyung kisses him with a strange sense of urgency, desperation, like he was trying to make up for all the lost time. Yoongi’s brain short circuits and it takes him a fraction of a second to kiss back, but he does, returning it with all he’s got. It’s nowhere near he perfect movie kiss Yoongi had imagined those few times he felt brave enough to; their teeth clink together and Taehyung hiccups against his lips, nearly hitting Yoongi’s nose with his own, but it’s even better that way, Yoongi thinks.
Taehyung finally pulls back, his lips trembling, tears still sliding down his cheeks.
“Shh, don’t cry.”
“But I thought you didn’t— I— I’m sorry,” Taehyung sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He looks down at Yoongi and lets out a giggle.
“I’m so happy,” he whispers. “I’m so, so happy.”
Yoongi smiles at him, giddy and light-headed. It’s still not really sinking in but Taehyung’s right there, in front of him, and Yoongi just kissed him, holy fuck, he kissed him and—
“Can I stay with you?” the words are out of his mouth before his brain catches up. “Tonight?” he adds, although what he really wants to say is forever.
Taehyung circles his fingers around his wrist and leads him towards the bed.
“Come ‘ere,” he whispers, pulling Yoongi down with him. The bed is still warm and it smells like Taehyung, and Yoongi has never felt so serenely comfortable in his life. Taehyung wraps his arms and legs around him like a giant-sized koala, and Yoongi presses his face into his hoodie, turning his head so he can hear his heartbeat.
He knows they should probably talk, discuss what’s going to happen with them next, but he doesn’t want to do it right now. All he wants is to melt in Taehyung’s embrace, listen to his breath and simply be next to him. It feels like the entire world, for a brief, magical moment, forgot about them, like they’re the only two people on the planet.
Taehyung shifts a little, wrapping himself even tighter around him, and sinks his fingers into Yoongi’s hair, massaging his scalp. Yoongi almost starts purring. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly, and lets his body relax.
“Yoongi?” Taehyung whispers, his lips tickling Yoongi’s forehead.
Yoongi lifts his head, propping his chin up on Taehyung’s chest. “Mhm?”
For a while Taehyung simply looks at him, a million different emotions flashing through his eyes.
“I love you too.” He cups Yoongi’s face, leaning down to press soft kisses all over his face. They feel like butterfly’s wings fluttering against Yoongi’s skin. “And we’ll be great.”