Work Text:
sundays are made for tender loving. this, taehyung believes wholeheartedly.
━
orange sunlight bleeds through the sheer pink curtains of the bedroom windows, bathing everything it touches in a hazy glow. piano music plays lightly in the background, chopin’s nocturne op. 9, no. 2 filling his ears with the sound of dreams.
he’s sporting one of his softest sweatshirts today. the fleece material leaves him feeling warm all over when he blinks his eyes open from the nap he doesn’t remember taking. it’s pale blue in color, covered in fluffy white clouds with enormous sleeves, and falls to his mid-thigh, just about swallowing him whole. he loves how big it sits on him, the way it makes him feel safe and warm and so impossibly small.
like he’s something to be cherished.
rolling onto his side, taehyung is met with the sight of half a dozen succulents lined along the windowsill. they’ve been doing wonderfully as of late, his babies growing so big and strong. they must be just as excited for the fall season as he is. “g’morning,” he mumbles, remnants of sleep slurring his words together. almost instantly, he receives a myriad of responses from his darlings, all of them things that leave him smiling so wide his cheeks begin to hurt. and when they inform him that it’s not morning but, in fact, evening, laughter bubbles out of him until his face is flushed the color of roses in the spring.
this is how jimin finds him, so lost in the space he’s built for himself, wrapped up in floral print bedsheets and quiet laughter, that he doesn’t notice the mage standing in the empty doorway until—
until he does.
“jimin!” taehyung radiates joy the moment their eyes meet, springing up from their bed to crash into his boyfriend’s waiting arms and burying his face in the crook of his neck just so he can breathe him in. he smells the same as he always does: of lavender and fabric softener, a familiar scent that wraps around taehyung like an old blanket. “hi.”
“hey there, sweet angel.” jimin’s words are whispered like honey and just as sweet. small, small hands slide down his sides and come to rest at his slender hips, oh so gentle, as if dealing with a most fragile thing. “how’re you feeling?”
taehyung sighs, suddenly going limp against the other. this close, he can practically feel jimin’s heart beating inside his chest. “i’m—good.” except there’s a slight pause between this phrase and the next as thoughts of earlier today begin to resurface in his mind, and taehyung remembers he isn’t very good at all.
━
(the restaurant is near capacity, tables filling at a faster rate than the staff can handle. lunch is always the busiest time of the day, but it rarely ever gets like this. even at their best, it’s impossible to contain the growing crowd. the walls are starting to be pushed to their limits. a line has formed outside, the door propped open and allowing autumn wind to blow into the restaurant. the cold finds its way through taehyung’s uniform and clings to his skin, raising the hairs on his arms. he struggles to clear the empty tables in time to seat the waiting guests, setting half-full glasses and sullied plates onto his tray haphazardly in the hopes of speeding of the process. seokjin wouldn’t be pleased, but there’s only so much taehyung can do to keep the tables circulating.
if only he’d been just a little more cautious, a little more attentive, and a little less fucking stupid—
if only.
there’s a crash, a scream. shattered glass. for all of a moment, sound ceases to exist; all that remains is a godawful static, sickening white noise. taehyung can feel the eyes of every patron in the restaurant burning holes into his skin, judging him without fear now that he’s given them a reason to do so. his head hangs in shame, gaze trained on the feet of the person he’d so carelessly slammed into.
part of him wants to drop to his hands and knees, dig his palms into the mess of jagged shards and spilled drink, and beg for forgiveness. but even then, it wouldn’t be enough.
he never is.
time slows and speeds up all at once. the yelling in his ears distorts like he’s underwater, sinking deeper, deeper, deeper still until he can’t hear anything at all. water floods his lungs, making it impossible to breathe, and for a single moment, he wonders if this is what it feels like to die.
just as his vision starts to fade at the corners, he’s brought up to the surface by a hand. taehyung clings to it like a lifeline as he’s led to the kitchen, past the cooking stations, into the storeroom. here, it’s as if he’s breathing clearly for the first time. the lights flicker on, and through the film of unshed tears, he’s able to make out a face.
jeongguk.
sweet, beautiful jeongguk.
“i’m sorry,” he utters, the humiliation of earlier returning in full. he’s shaking. his hands are translucent beneath the washed-out lights of the storage room, revealing moss-colored veins, and they won’t stop shaking. like forgotten leaflets in the wind. “i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry.”
before the words have fully left his mouth, taehyung is being enveloped by strong arms, and he keens at the undeserved warmth. jeongguk holds him steady when his knees begin to buckle, kisses the shell of his ear as his whole body becomes wracked with sobs, fingers carding through his tangled hair the way he’s come to know that taehyung loves.
“it’s okay, hyung,” jeongguk says, soft yet firm in a way that leaves no room for arguing. that’s always been the way it is with him; once jeongguk believes in something— an idea, a concept, a person —there’s no changing his mind.
he almost wishes jeongguk wasn’t so understanding all the time, would get loud and angry and mean the way taehyung deserves.
“you should go home early today," the other tries. "get some rest.”
“no, no, i have to help—”
outside, there’s an outbreak of commotion, a number of panicked voices all fighting to be heard over one another. they’ll have to push tables back, order new dishes, mop up the floors again. taehyung tenses up, a fresh wave of tears welling in his eyes. he has to go back out there. he has to help fix the mess he’s made. everyone will hate him for it, as they should, but it'll be worse if he stays here.
he tries to move away, but jeongguk doesn’t give him the chance, seeming to be on the verge of tears himself. the younger worries his lip between his teeth, and taehyung can tell he’s trying his best to maintain his composure when all he wants to do is go home and rest his aching feet. it hurts to see how much pain he’s putting his friend in.
“please, hyung” jeongguk whispers, a final plea. "i’ll take care of everything, cover your shift, all of it. i—i just want you to take care of yourself, okay?”
and really, who is taehyung to deny jeongguk of anything he wants?
so, he agrees.)
━
(the bus ride home is spent counting the people he passes on the streets, wondering how many of them would take one look at him and turn their noses up in disgust.)
━
“taehyung? baby?”
jimin’s eyebrows are bunched in concern, irises swirling with worry. for a moment, taehyung forgets where he is, has to refocus on the present to bring himself back from earlier.
"where are you, taetae? where'd you go?"
"i," he pauses, his mouth struggling to form the words he wants it to. "j-jimin?"
“yeah, baby, it's me. i'm here, i’m right here. are you okay?”
with a grounding breath, taehyung nods, the corners of his mouth pulling upward. it takes too much effort. “i'm fine. still a bit sleepy, though. and kind of hungry."
jimin smiles at that, eyes crinkling at the corners, and taehyung is tempted to kiss them right now, his adorable little crow’s feet just begging to be loved and appreciated, but somehow he resists. “then let’s get some food in that adorable tummy of yours, yeah?”
he would love nothing more.
━
tonight’s dinner comes in the form of an all-american breakfast. their meal consists of strawberry pancakes, per taehyung’s request, along with fried eggs, hash browns, and a generous helping of bacon. jimin is more than happy to oblige despite having to look for recipes on the internet and make everything from scratch. taehyung helps when he can, pouring and mixing and stealing butterfly kisses in between, though it’s jimin who does most of the actual cooking, adorned in his pink apron.
but that’s okay.
just watching him in his element, dancing around the kitchen to the music in his head, is enough for taehyung.
in the end, there’s flour everywhere, clothes and countertops painted in a fine, white layer of powder. taehyung is sure to sprinkle a few dashes of granulated sugar in jimin’s starlight hair as well, adding to the mess they’ve already made.
(“now you’re sweet enough to eat,” taehyung beams, wiping whipped cream across the tip of his nose, before promptly bursting into a fit of giggles.
if he could see the look in jimin’s eyes, he'd be seeing what can only be described as undeniable fondness.)
as expected, the pancakes are light, fluffy, absolutely perfect. taehyung stacks them high onto his plate, then proceeds to drown them in maple syrup, shoveling them into his mouth as fast as his hands will allow. jimin merely laughs at his enthusiasm, wiping crumbs from his face and feeding him bites of food when he just can’t resist.
━
dandelions sprout up between taehyung’s lilac strands like bright specks of gold. jimin catches his wrist before he can pluck them from their roots, eyes soft as he asks if they can stay. just for the night. taehyung goes shy under jimin’s adoring gaze, so different from the looks of repulsion he often gets.
gives a simple okay.
━
the orchids are wilting.
taehyung notices only as he’s washing the last of the dishes, their soft whines and cries of distress breaking through the quiet of the apartment. he drops the dish sponge into the sink, finding his watering can in one of the cabinets, and rushing to fill it with warm water. apologies fall from his lips as soon as he’s within arms reach, running his fingers along their crooked stems, their dainty leaves. he picks them up, cradling their small pot in his arms. the flowers visibly brighten, stems straightening slightly from the attention. with work and school taking up nearly every free moment he has, he’s been busy lately. knows he hasn’t been around as much as he usually is, but—
he had no idea they were so starved for his affection.
pressing his index and middle fingers into the pot’s soil, taehyung closes his eyes and begins to focus his energy into pushing more life into the orchids’ frail bodies. magic flows from the tips of his fingers to the soil and, from there, the roots that lay just beneath the surface. it’s a simple healing spell, one he’d mastered before he could ride a bicycle, but it remains a staple for many green witches.
sometimes, when simple witchcraft isn’t enough, taehyung sings, turning charms into lyrics that leave him in beautiful song. it’s not enough to make up for every lost day, but it helps.
soon enough, jimin is there too, fitting so seamlessly into place behind taehyung that he’d believe jimin was standing there the entire time. the older’s arms wrap tight around his middle, chin coming to rest atop his shoulder. the orchids benefit from his presence as well, though that isn’t much of a shock. if taehyung isn’t looking after them, it’s jimin who tells them goodnight and makes sure they know they’re loved.
the same way taehyung knows he’s loved.
as if summoned by his thoughts, he feels jimin’s lips against the skin of his neck, mouthing sweet nothings into his golden skin. a hand slips underneath his sweatshirt at the same time, tracing patterns over his soft stomach. they’re sigils, taehyung realizes, continuing to sing even as he tries to make out the shape of each seal. praedisia for protection. belludia for happiness.
amora eterna for eternal love.
taehyung sings a little more, reciting the very same lullaby his mother would hum in their garden back home, watching as the flowers wind down, white petals closing in on themselves until sleep wins out.
“sweet dreams,” he breathes, before placing them back on their shelf for the night. "i promise to take better care of you from now on. cross my heart.”
he smiles to himself, turning in jimin’s arms to face him proper.
“they’ll be okay, won't they?” he asks because sometimes it’s hard to be certain.
but jimin knows. says, “they already are.”
━
taehyung’s body doesn’t work the same way as most.
he sheds when he gets nervous.
there’s a trail of leaves, decayed and furled at the ends, leading from the kitchen to where he stands now. if only he’d been wearing pants or something, anything to cover the thick green tendrils coiled around his calves. instinctively, he tugs his sleeves further down his arms, knowing vines live there as well, hands disappearing within the stretched material. he looks better covered up, when his deformities don’t show.
jimin is staring. it’s impossible to meet his gaze.
"sorry.” his face colors with the shame of what he is. “i'm sorry, i'll clean it up, i just—" he just started thinking again, about the exam he has for his botanical magic class tomorrow and the closing shift he’ll be working at the restaurant right after. his throat closes up, makes it hard to breathe, and his vision clouds with tears. the words he wants to say can’t quite force their way out of his mouth, so he falls to his knees instead and begins to pick up the dead foliage with trembling hands.
"baby," jimin starts in that angelic tone of his, the one that fills his insides with dragonflies, and taehyung lets out a choked sob from the warmth of it. there’s a quiet thud as jimin drops to his knees beside him, so, so gentle when he pulls taehyung close, holding him like he’s the world and more. “look at me.”
he shuts his eyes tight, the humiliation he’d felt earlier growing tenfold. not only are his legs, hideous and crawling with sickly green stems, on full display, but jimin is also forced to see him like this. he’s overwhelmed with bad thoughts, too many to push away, fingers itching to rip the hideous vines straight from his body; anything to make them go away. he digs his bitten nails into the flesh of his palms to get them to leave, these awful thoughts that make him sick, hard enough to draw blood.
i'm sorry , he wants to scream. i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry.
(jimin’s touch is featherlight as he draws sigils of love and tranquility on his back, tiny sparks shooting out from the tips of his fingers. he recites a spell, the words melodic as they slip from his tongue. a lullaby of sorts.)
sleep washes over taehyung slowly at first.
then, all at once.
━
the room is alight with the warm glow of hanging fairy lights and scented candles, the earthy scent of old spice floating in the air as taehyung stirs awake, head resting on jimin’s pillowy thighs.
“tae?” jimin breathes his name as if he’s afraid to speak, feels the younger shift in his lap.
“jiminnie.” taehyung blinks wide eyes up at his lover, the lingering effects of the spell he was put under leaving him somewhat disoriented. “what time ‘s it?” the words sit heavy on his tongue and taehyung thinks he should be embarrassed by it, but jimin looks at him with eyes that scream of nothing but the utmost adoration and taehyung just feels so entirely loved, heart on the verge of bursting out of his chest.
"it’s almost midnight, baby.” the answer comes with a chaste peck on the nose, and taehyung can’t help the way a smile tugs at his lips at the gesture.
but then he remembers the events leading up to now (the shame that turned into panic, fear that morphed itself into complete and utter disgust), and his muscles pull taut because he ruined their night.
he ruined their night.
again.
the realization squeezes at his lungs until he’s short of breath. for a moment, he wonders if he’ll spiral out of control again, a repeat of the hour prior. this time, however, jimin is there to catch him before the fall, pulling him away from those dangerous thoughts and bringing him forcing him to think about now as he holds his face within his strong hands and stares oceans deep into glistening eyes.
“don’t go there, angel.” jimin says, whispersoft. “come on. come back to me.”
"i—i'm—” taehyung shakes. he shakes, a high pitched whine escaping his mouth as his slender fingers abandon the safety of his sleeves to grasp the material of jimin’s shirt instead. it’s both too much and not nearly enough, leaving him torn between shying away from the other and falling into him more.
"i know, baby, i know,” jimin continues, and it’s true. this isn’t the first time taehyung’s insecurities have led to full-blown panic attacks, and it’s scary to think about what can happen (what has already happened) when jimin isn’t around to help him through the worst of it. even now, nothing calms him more than the sound of his lover’s voice, the feel of his calloused hands on his tender skin. playing with his silver rings as he waits for his pulse to slow. there are things he does to cope, but he hasn’t found anything that works as well as this.
jimin tells him to breathe, and he does. in for six counts, out for eight. each exhale brings with it a weight lifted off his shoulders, encouraging words left in his ear.
by the time he’s breathing regularly on his own, he’s managed to calm down a considerable amount. with a cup of piping hot ginger tea in hand, he sits comfortably with his back resting against jimin’s chest. the arms that close around his waist are safe, and taehyung thinks he would be the happiest person in the world if he could spend the rest of his days tucked in them.
━
“bath, please?” taehyung tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, hiding his pink face in jimin’s neck the moment the question is asked. it’s been a while since he’s let himself feel submissive like this, but his last panic attack seemed to push him over the edge.
jimin’s heart swells in size. if there was ever any doubt that he was in love before, there certainly isn’t anymore.
“of course you can, my sweet baby.” taehyung lets out this excited noise, a cross between a whine and a squeal. jimin is endeared. “bubbles or rose petals?”
the choice is obvious. or at least, it should be. “rose petals, of course.”
and so it shall be.
━
taehyung stands back, fiddling with his thumbs while jimin runs the bathwater, swirling his hand through the water to make sure it’s the perfect balance between hot and cold.
“alright.” satisfied, jimin shakes out his hands as he starts to turn around. “that should be good—”
“ wait! ” taehyung squeaks, shielding as much of his body as he can. “don’t look. i don’t—i can’t today. n-not today.”
the silence that follows bounces off the walls, threatens to swallow him whole. this is what it’s like to be a disappointment, to love someone who carries the stars in their eyes, to know that you will never be worthy of their love. taehyung hates that he can’t give all of himself to jimin, can’t make love to him with the lights on or let him explore the secrets of his body the way he wants. no matter how much praise jimin showers him with, his insecurities will always stand in the way of them.
“okay,” jimin sighs. not angry, but almost— sad. “that’s okay.”
it’s not, but he bites his tongue in lieu of a response; it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. taehyung counts to five, a safety precaution, before pulling his sweatshirt over his head and letting it drop to the tile floor. he eases into the water, gripping the sides of the tub as he eases himself in. only once he’s fully submerged does he give jimin the okay to look, cheeks dark as ripened plums.
“oh, baby.” jimin stares in unbridled awe as he kneels at the base of the tub, simply lost in the way taehyung sparkles when the light hits his wet skin just right. his touch is glorifying, made only of the purest love, and taehyung suffocates in it. “look at you. god, just look at you. do you even know how gorgeous you are?”
he doesn’t. he doubts he’ll ever know what jimin sees in him; in the strands of flowing ivy that twist around his arms, the flowers that bloom across his chest, the leaves that grow in his unruly hair, or his startling emerald green eyes. to most of the world he is a freak of nature, the result of magic gone horribly wrong.
but to jimin—
to jimin, he is everything.
━
the scent of deep red rose petals and vanilla body lotion clings to his lathered skin as he steps out of the bathtub. a quiet thank you leaves his lips as jimin dries him off with the fluffiest towel they own. no longer dripping water onto the floor, he slides his feet into fuzzy slippers and returns to their bedroom to change. he reaches into their shared drawer and ends up putting on a t-shirt at random and a pair of boxer briefs with jimin’s initials stitched onto the back of the waistband. his favorite things to wear are rarely his own.
it doesn’t take long after that for jimin to join taehyung in bed, pulling thick covers over the their legs to shield them from the cold.
"is this alright?” he asks, head tilted just so that his silver bangs fall in the way of his caring gaze.
taehyung hums, fighting to keep his eyes open. while bubble baths always seem to give him energy, he tends to get drowsy after rosewater baths, something about the warmth of the water and the sweet scent of roses making him soft with sleep. it’s especially hard to keep his eyes open as jimin ghosts his fingertips over the plains and dips of his body, admiring. wherever his hands roam, his are sure to lips follow, planting gardens on his flushed skin with every kiss. he whispers love and devotion like it’s all he knows how to speak, so much that taehyung finds himself dizzy with it.
“minnie?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious of the position they're in, hyperaware of every place jimin's hands land. in the quiet of the night, taehyung’s heart drums passionately in his ears.
“tell me what you need, baby.”
“will you kiss me?”
jimin answers him with lips that taste of cinnamon and ginger spice, molding perfectly against his own. hands caress either side of his face, and taehyung presses closer, closer, searching for more, climbing into the other’s lap until space does not exist between them. the sounds he makes are meant to encourage, to let kimin know how much he truly wants this. finally, the thing he’s been craving most is his at last.
they part and like magnets, they attract again. taehyung moans, soft and low in the back of his throat, as jimin’s tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, then lets go, just to watch it snap back in place, kiss-swollen and shining like cherries. he moves lower, mouth painting galaxies in bloom along the side of taehyung’s neck, in the dip of his exposed collarbones. each bruise tells a story.
this is what they say:
you are perfect.
you are beautiful.
you are heavenly.
you are mine,
always.
(sometimes it’s just so much, all the love that jimin has for him, that he doesn’t know where to put it all. he keeps as much of it as he can in his heart, but as for the overflow—)
“oh, angel, what’s wrong?” jimin asks, noticing taehyung’s waterlogged eyes.
“nothing,” he ensures, attempting to wipe away a few of his tears with the back of his palm. “nothing’s wrong. i just love you so much, and words aren’t always enough so,” taehyung lets out a small laugh, “crying is the only other way i know how to say it.”
jimin coos, unable to stop himself from peppering butterfly kisses to taehyung’s face. he erupts in laughter so great it squeezes the breath right from his lungs, and as taehyung twists his body to get away, wildflowers rain down from his head, coating the sheets in purples pinks blues. he braces himself for the feeling of dread that's to come, that will twist his stomach into tight knots. but it leaves just as quickly as it came, replaced by yet another fit of giggles. then jimin is laughing too, the sound like music to his ears. a song he could listen to all day long.
(—maybe he can start a new garden, one that lives and breathes inside of him: a garden of love.)
plants grow from taehyung’s skin, and some people might find him strange or gross or unnatural because of that. but curled up at jimin’s side, breathing the same air and sharing the same space as him, he starts to wonder.
━
perhaps there are reasons to love himself after all.