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“And there was this huuuuge battle scene, the fight choreography was amazing, and goodd, you should have seen th-” Jungkook was bored. Not the asshole bored, where you were obviously not listening, but as he nodded politely to his friend’s epic recounting of… some movie… he found himself zoning in and out of the conversation. Movies were good. He liked movies. But he was really a lot more of an art guy sometimes. He was definitely going through an art-guy spike right now. Paintings, photography, music, music videos. He didn’t really feel like he had the attention span for a whole movie at this point in his life.
“Sorry, sorry, what was the question?” He blinked back into the real world.
“I said, are you okay? You seem a little out of it.” That was just how Jungkook was, to be fair.
“More than usual?” He asked with a little chuckle. At least he could admit he had a habit of staring off into the middle-distance, eyes wide with all the unthought thoughts happening at once. His brain just worked overtime sometimes.
“Well… I guess not.” His friend laughed back and clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, thanks for meeting me. If I don’t go now, though, I’m gonna be late for class.”
“Sure. I’ve got to get to-” where, again? His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down and off to the side.
“That art show, right? The one Jimin offered to take you to?” Oh. Right. He had to meet Jimin. Jungkook nodded.
“Ah… yeah, that’s right. Thanks.” He should really start setting reminders in his phone. Knowing himself, he would have gotten halfway home before remembering, or stood at the bus station until he remembered. He gathered up the plates they’d left on their table and stacked them as he got his mind back in order.
“You don’t have to do that; that’s the waiter’s job-”
“It’s nice to do. Stop nagging me and go to class,” he said, grinning and shaking his head.
He checked his phone, knowing it was on silent the whole time he was eating but still fairly sure he’d gotten at least one message from Jimin.
Running late! Wait for me ok? do you still have the address??
He scrolled back in their conversation a few days and copied it.
Yeah. See you there
The gallery was pretty nondescript. Not to say that it was very hole-in-the-wall or indie, but it was just. A gallery. Big old concrete cube with some big windows up high and weird brick detailing along the pointed roof that seemed like it didn’t belong to much of any era, dropped by some lazy madman haphazardly in Busan. There was an overhang on the sidewalk, presumably for lines, but with how plain and kind of dirty it looked, he wasn’t sure they were popular enough to have lines long enough to use it. He stood under it, out of the sun as he waited for Jimin, and looked at the posters plastered to the bottom floor window.
He saw a few artists he knew of, mostly local people he went to high school with, mostly advertising for joint shows they were doing comprised of projects for and from school. Some of them were fairly good. Some others…
“What’s with the sour face?” Jimin’s voice came from behind him. He rested his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, looking at the posters along with him. “Don’t you know that guy?” Jimin pointed to a smaller poster stuck with masking tape to the inside of the window, facing outward. It featured a picture of one of his old classmates posing seriously with a huge photography print and a framed award. To be honest, it wasn’t his best work that Jungkook had seen.
“Yeah, kind of. We’ve met before. I think we took the same photography class in school. Good to see he hasn’t stopped.” Then, he turned, Jimin reluctant to take his head from his shoulder. “Who are we seeing today?” he asked with a smile.
“I’m pretty sure you’ll like this: it’s a few different artists here, with a bunch of mixed media, traditional art, digital, photography, everything. Buuuut,” Jimin said, holding up his finger and grinning, “the catch is that among the small-time guys, the gallery managed to get their hands on some pieces by that guy you like, Kim Bae-something? I recognized his name when I saw it, but I can’t remember to save my lif-”
“Kim Taehyung-nim?” Jungkook’s eyes got wide. Real, actual original pieces by Kim Taehyung, only his favorite artist at the moment.
What drew him to Kim Taehyung wasn’t necessarily just the talent aspect -- though he was absolutely filled with raw, uncut and undiluted talent, sharpened with skill -- it was the fact that he’d blown up like crazy and still stayed humble. He was smart, and kind, and-
Jungkook would absolutely admit to having a big, huge, giant celebrity crush on him. He thought probably that Jimin knew it, too, without having to say it.
“Yep, the very one. I thought you might like to-” Jimin made a grand gesture with his arms, swooping in as he took a comically deep breath - “breathe the air of something touched by his hands. Who knows, maybe you’ll absorb some talent by osmosis. If not from him, maybe from one of these other guys.” They started to walk in, and Jimin paid for the tickets (“you can just owe me later,” he’d said, even though they both knew he’d drop it later) while yammering something about how the pieces were only labeled with titles and prices, so that people couldn’t tell which were Kim Taehyung’s and which were other artists’ works. Jungkook appreciated that. He was still sure that he’d be able to tell his work apart anyway, but it was still really good exposure for visitors who weren’t obsessed superfans.
“I’m not an ‘obsessed superfan’, Jimin,” Jungkook said in protest when Jimin mentioned it.
“Your phone background is one of his paintings.”
“It’s gorgeous. It makes me feel peaceful.”
“You have his blog bookmarked, and-”
“Because I keep up with it.”
“-and his tweets are the only ones you have notifications turned on for.”
“Because he tweets teasers sometimes!” Jimin laughed as Jungkook gave him a playful punch in the arm, maybe a little too hard because he kind of meant it just a touch. They entered the main room of the gallery to find all colors and shapes plastered up on the wall, little placards placed beside them with, as guaranteed, only a few titles and modest prices (...for art, anyway…) neatly typed beside them. There weren’t many empty spots, which meant no one was buying as much as the gallery owners had probably hoped. He thought back to the unkempt, kind of charmingly grimy exterior and decided they likely didn’t mind so much. They must have been people who just liked art.
He was looking at a gorgeous shot of a bird flying up through a tree towards the sun, smiling as he thought about this, when he saw someone wandering along the walls. He was looking at the assorted prints and canvases, but only skimming, as if he’d seen it all before. The figure was striking, broad and an aura that made him seem taller than he was. Jungkook figured he was staring, just a little, but oh well. Jungkook was really digging the beret and long coat, the easy gait the guy had. It played out like a scene in a film in his head, storyboarding popping up practically behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was like he was walking inspiration. He wanted to talk to him.
“Jungkookie, you know, the art’s all hung up, not walking around.” Jimin sidled up next to him, trailing his line of sight. “Close your mouth, you’re being obvious. Go talk to him.”
What would he say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my name is Jeon Jungkook and you move like a movie star”? No, that wouldn’t do. Not at freaking all. He wondered if the man was showing his own work there, and maybe he could ask about that. He nodded slightly, took a hesitant step forward, and then the man turned to profile. Shit.
Oh, Jesus, he should have known.
In fact, he did know, the moment he turned. He would know that profile anywhere - the broad nose, full lips, serious gaze. He was hungrily staring down Kim effing Taehyung himself. His mouth dropped back open.
“Close your mouth, Kook-ah. What, why do you look like you’ve seen a gho-oh.” The way Jimin said “oh” was not one of pity or understanding. Quite the opposite. He looked over at him evilly and conspiratorially, as though he were on the verge of striding over himself and shoving Jungkook’s number in Taehyung’s hand. That just really wasn’t going to fly.
“Hyung, I’m begging you not to do whatever it is you’re thinking.”
“You’d thank me later, I swear to god.”
“I really somehow doubt that.” He grabbed Jimin by the elbow and started to drag him around a large column with a few shelves where sculptures were displayed between wall hangings and some strange-looking projects Jungkook couldn’t really figure out. It was big enough for at least two people to hide behind, at the right angle. He suddenly stopped them and turned around to face Jimin. “Listen. You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Uh- because what if he’s- I-”
“If he’s straight then he’ll just say no.”
“But then I become a scary stalker.”
“No you don’t. You’re a fan.”
“That’s the other thing.” Jungkook sighed and grabbed at his hair. He was stressed. “I’m a fan. He can’t date a fan.”
“And why not.”
“Don’t-don’t do that, that tone, I-” He sighed and put his hands up. “Forget it. I’m just- I’ll ask him for his autograph or something later, but for now, can we just…”
“Sure, let’s enjoy the show for now and I’ll think of ways to mortify you later.” Jungkook made to hit Jimin again for the comment, but feinted at the last second and let him off the hook with a soft hiss through his teeth.
For the next half hour, he kept an eye on Taehyung, always from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help feeling like they were following each other, or maybe that he looked like a creepy stalker after all, because every time he turned around, the artist was pushing past him, or would break off a conversation to pass by him. Jungkook was sure Taehyung thought he was a stalker.
Thus, he tried to leave without getting an autograph. He didn’t want to come anywhere near him with the faint hope that he’d meet him again and maybe Taehyung would think, oh, I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before and he could play off the whole thing. Jimin started to protest, but Jungkook just shook his head and ushered them outside, telling him he’d let him get him back even worse another time, or that he’d buy the next time they went out for food. It was good enough.
When they got outside, it was starting to rain just a little. They huddled under the little awning as they waited for a cab or maybe for the rain to lighten up so they could run to a cafe or home, if they could make it.
Jimin was going on about one of the pieces he found particularly attractive to him, a photograph that had been printed onto a canvas and had oil paints worked over it into a different scene, and while Jungkook was sure he’d seen it, he couldn’t conjure it to mind. He was leaning against the postered-out window when he saw Jimin’s face light up, looking at something behind them. He didn’t want to know, and just kept staring down at his phone.
“Hyung, I really hope you didn’t get another wild ide-” He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned, Jimin still making that nefarious face.
He was looking at Kim Taehyung. Kim Taehyung had tapped him. With his hand. His long and slender hand that had created so much that had inspired him. And he was smiling at him with this big, rectangular, kind of goofy grin that crinkled his eyes at the sides and he was sure the smile he gave back looked more like a grimace.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“N-no, it’s fine.”
“I just- I noticed you stopped by a lot of the pieces that were mine.”
“Oh? Yeah, I-” What the hell did he say? That he liked them? Obviously. “They’re really eye-catching. You can get the sense of a lot of meaning from them.” Something on Taehyung’s face softened, his smile became a little less awkward, and broader. He seemed genuinely pleased.
“Thank you. Really, thank you. That means a lot. And I’m- I’m really sorry if I seemed like I was following you around, I just, uh.” Jungkook had to keep from laughing.
“I was worried you thought the same about me. I recognized you earlier…”
“Oh?” He looked surprised, then smiled again and gave a soft chuckle. “I just really liked how you reacted. To all the art. Are you an artist?”
“I’m a hobbyist photographer, but it’s not my dream. I sketch, and I make videos sometimes.” Jungkook nodded and shrugged.
“Hobbyists can be talented. I’d like to see some of your work.” The expression Taehyung shot him was soft and hard to describe. Jungkook couldn’t put a finger on the emotion he was putting out. Jimin, of course, had to jump in.
“Ah, I’m sorry for my friend’s rudeness, Kim Taehyung-ssi, this is Jeon Jungkook-ssi, my precious dongsaeng who never shuts up about your art. He’s a particular fan of your black-and-white photography.” As mad as he wanted to be, he was surprised Jimin had remembered that. Taehyung’s eyebrows rose a little and he bowed, probably much lower than he needed to. “My name is Park Jimin, and I’m sorry to leave so quick, but my stomach is rumbling and, if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to stand around while you two talk about art. See you later, Jungkook-ah.”
“Nice to meet you, and I guess you already know I’m Kim Taehyung. I hope we’ll meet again!” Jimin gave a shallow bow and a wave as he left, and Taehyung turned back to him. “So… I’m glad you like my work. Are you- sorry if this is weird. I just, um.” He took held up a business card he appeared to have been holding for some time. There were a few raindrops on it and he held it out. Jungkook could see his hand was shaking a little. “Are you busy later? Or, um. This week?”
Jungkook was sure his eyes were the size of the moon. He took the card only to save Taehyung the embarrassment of standing there and shaking like a leaf, in which he wasn’t alone. Perhaps it was his shocked expression that led Taehyung to try and backpedal.
“You don’t- you don’t have to accept, I just… you seem very interesting, and you do photography too, and you appreciate it. I just- thought… you looked really beautiful against all the other artworks, and-” He looked really, really embarrassed. Really embarrassed. Mortified.
“No, sorry, I just-” He was waving the business card, still holding it without even looking at it. He realized maybe he shouldn’t have started with the word “no”, when Taehyung shoved his hands in his pockets and turned pink.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I bothered you, but-”
“No, wait, Kim Taehyung-nim, I wasn’t… it wasn’t that I was declining.” Taehyung stopped halfway through a backwards step and wobbled a little to catch himself.
“Oh. No?”
“No, actually, that… we should get a drink. Or something.” He bashfully looked at the card he’d handed him and nearly spluttered when he saw where the artist had circled his mobile number and scribbled “date?” in thin, black pen. “I. Yes. A, um. A d-date.” The smile he gave was weak but real. Taehyung returned one at least five times brighter and stronger.
“Really? To be honest, I didn’t think you would accept. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, though.” Jungkook murmured the sentiment back and nodded.
“I’m free… any time, really. My schedule is flexible.” It wasn’t. But for Kim Taehyung, he would miss a class or call out of work in a split second.
“What about today?” Even though Jimin had left, Jungkook instinctively turned to look at him but when he found nothing but the lightening rain and a few soaked passers-by, he just looked back at Taehyung with a smile.
“Yeah, sure. Why not right now?”
“Awesome. I know… this great little place…” And with that, Taehyung hailed a cab, kept talking about all the cool little galleries and people and spots he knew, and was really, actually interested in hearing what Jungkook had to say, and Jungkook realized he’d never been so enraptured by anyone.
It wasn’t until their first anniversary that Jimin called him and told him that he’d managed to sneak away and tell Taehyung everything about Jungkook while he was staring at a picture of a rice field. The snake.