Archive of Our Own ^beta

***

”What do you want?”

”Want? …Nothing.” Taehyung wets his lips and shoves his hands into his pockets, balancing back and forth on the balls of his feet.

”Then why are you here?” Yoongi furrows his brows and grabs the cigarette packet from the top of the piano.

”Hmmm…” The younger boy tilts his head to the side and shrugs. ”Bored!”

Yoongi sticks a cigarette between his lips and fumbles for his lighter. The longer he thinks about it, the less it makes sense. He looks up at the scrawny boy and frowns. ”…How’d you even get in?”

”Your window was open,” he replies simply, gesturing towards the door he came from.

He stares incredulously. What did he just say? Who told him climbing into windows was okay? What kind of human being breaks and enters because they’re bored? He must be acting. A person like that just doesn’t exist.Yoongi can’t hold back his laughter. It’s too ridiculous.

In the end, it’s an appreciate break in his self-depricating downward spiral. Taehyung isn’t someone he has to fear to hurt, too, it seems. No matter if he tosses some insults his way or acts blunt, Taehyung doesn’t leave or take offense. It’s curious. Yoongi tries to be so rude that he wants to leave, but all he does is stay. He plays a stupid song, Taehyung dances as if he knows how to. There’s something strangely beautiful about his simple way of thinking.

He only sticks around for an hour before becoming too restless, but from the moment their eyes met today, Yoongi has felt strangely charmed. Maybe even inspired.

•

***

”When do you think is the best age to get married?” Taehyung asks casually, wrapped up in bedsheets, naked legs peeking out like he wants attention.

Yoongi spits his drink into his palm that heroically tries to keep it from getting all over his laptop. Of course he’s laughed at for panicking and trying to get the technology tipped over for safety as cold coffee drips down his chin. Eventually, Taehyung gets up and takes the laptop from his hands, helpful without being asked to help for once. It could be because Yoongi definitely wasn’t laughing.

”You okay, hyung? What happened?”

”I– choked,” Yoongi gasps, lying through his teeth. Well, he did choke… Mentally.

Taehyung smiles warmly and takes his own shirt off in favor of wiping Yoongi’s face clean when he’s put the computer down on a dry place. It’s a very gentle touch. He leans into it and doesn’t question until he realizes whose shirt it actually is. His eyes go wide as he stares at his favorite T-shirt stained with coffee.

”Wha—! This is mine!”

The younger man giggles mischievously and squirms out of the hold he tries to get on him. Yoongi is already planning to body slam him so hard into the floor he’ll forget his own name. Permanently. The only problem with making that happen would be his strength.

•

Nobody predicted it.Yoongi hadn’t even thought about it once. He’d just been hanging out as usual, with two of his best friends, when they just casually flashed a pair of rings and announced their marriage. Just like that day so many years ago, he choked on his drink hard.

Then, a couple of months ago at their engagement party, he was formally invited to a retreat they’d planned for their wedding week. So all he’s been doing is waiting for that very welcome break in the monotony of everyday anxiety and work, work, work. To be fair, he puts the pressure on himself, but he has no excuse to let up. Until they go for that trip. It’s something to focus on… an excuse to relax and take it easy.

He’s the most impatient he’s ever been. It’s killing him. There’s never been two people more perfect for each other and he can’t wait to pretend he’s not crying about it.

His fingers travel over the smooth keys on the piano. They’re not strategic today. It’s a fumbling, nervous, yet confident tune. Nostalgic, familiar. He played this song once way back when, in that sad town where he grew up and never wants to return to.

”Bad,” Jungkook snorts, tuning his guitar.

”Sorry?” Yoongi retorts, slamming down a dark chord.

”I don’t like it, it sounds bad,” he shoots right back, dazzling smile and all. Yoongi thinks he’s lucky he’s both young and cute, or he’d give him a piece of mind.

”I wasn’t playing it for you.” Trying to remember more old memories, he closes his eyes and keeps playing, ignoring his partner in crime’s ceaseless talking.

”It is pretty bad, sounds like a talentless kid is playing, or something,” Namjoon laughs, knocking on the door only after talking. Yoongi opens his eyes to glare at him. A talentless kid did make this tune up, but they have no right to insult it. Namjoon notices his glare and clears his throat. ”Uh… lunch? Hoseok wants to talk about the trip.”

”You’re buying,” Yoongi informs him, getting up from his chair and feeling his back stiffen up from the sudden movement.

”Sure,” Namjoon agrees happily.

•

The day arrives, and he’s struck by an immense inkling of social anxiety. Yoongi carefully picks his outfits, rolling them up and packing them down. He knows Hoseok and Jimin’s relatives and friends will be there during the retreat, and he can’t deal with the pressure. The best man is a role that is a little too front and center for him. So he picks his outfits carefully. From time to time, he sits down on the floor and stares motionlessly, until he’s ready to get up and do something again. It takes a good while to pack, and time is ticking by too fast.

His phone rings, and he closes his eyes tightly as he answers.

”Hey, we’ll pick you up in five! You ready?”

Yoongi wets his lips and looks at himself in the mirror on the left wall, attempting to fake a smile. It’s not very convincing. But he wants to go. He has to go.

”…hyung?”

”Uh… yeah! Yeah, I’ll… I will be,” he lies. Never in his life has he ever been ready for a large gathering of family. Maybe he’s projecting, but other’s families always makes him think of his own, and it just digs deep down into the feeling that he can’t make them proud yet.

”We… could make a little detour and give you some time,” Hoseok offers, car radio thumping in the background.

”No, no, no… no, it’s fine. I’m just a little tired. Five minutes is fine,” Yoongi nods, hanging up before Hoseok can hear him sighing. This needs to be a happy day.

He pockets his phone and begins to rush. Toothbrush, camera, laptop… Should he bring work with him? Isn’t that something he said he wouldn’t do? Though… a laptop doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll work. He packs it with shaky hands. A safety net.

Maybe he’s this nervous because right away, he has to sit in a long car ride with the other best man and make a good impression. It’s a little like meeting a new brother, since he thinks of his close group of friends as family. With Jimin joining, of course his best friend will have to be a part of it.

It’s a big problem. He’s known Jimin for at least a year and hasn’t met his best friend. Apparently he travels around a lot, or something. Jimin doesn’t talk much about him since they’re still just trying to get to know each other, and don’t meet too often. So he takes a breath, and he closes his eyes again.

The doorbell rings. He closes his hand around the bag and sucks it all down for a moment. Hoseok helps him carry it, smiling like a man who has seen god. Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous, but he still finds himself smiling too. It’s a good day, he decides.

The inside of the dusty and way too hot car is kind to him, wrapping him up like a nice hug. He sucks in a deeper breath and actually manages to feel some of the knots in his back giving up. A little. Yoongi tries hard not to dread sitting next to a complete stranger on his way while Hoseok blasts bad love songs because he’s so in love.

”Where to?” Hoseok asks Jimin, who is pouting at his brightly decorated phone.

”I— sorry, his texts are really weird sometimes… it’s some hotel, but he doesn’t know the name…”

Yoongi closes his eyes and zones out to the rhythm of their soft early morning chatter and the hum of the engine. The weather is way too hot today, but he tries not to mind. It gives his sweat an excuse to show it’s stinky face. He doesn’t mind sweating down the cheesy cardigan he bought just for this occassion. It’s definitely not his style, even if it’s black.

”Ah, there! Right,” Jimin navigates, an eager tone to his voice. If his best friend was always in other countries, Yoongi would be that excited to see him again, too.

The car pulls in somwhere gently. Yoongi squints outside when the other door opens, playing it cool. He’s hit with a slight nostalgia when he feels the scent of the breeze that sneaks in. A certain brand of cigarettes.

”I told you the time, and you overslept! We might even be the last ones there because of you!” Jimin complains in a whiny voice.

”Hey, Chim, I missed you too,” a deep voice chuckles, and the slight nostalgia twists into something else.

It’s like a whirlwind, the way a tall stranger in a grey coat slinks into the car, talking way too loudly for his weary mind. He didn’t bother to put his bag in the back, hugging it to himself like he’s keeping it safe. It’s kinda cute, Yoongi notes, when he looks at him.

”You knew the time,” Jimin insists, pointing a finger at him. The stranger tries to jokingly bite it.

”I’m here now! Let’s go. Sorry or whatever.”

”We’ll spank you later,” Hoseok jokes, revving the engine to life again. ”Right now, we gotta get this show on the road!”

What he thought was a stranger takes his sunglasses off.

Time freezes.

He’s different, but very much the same. Sharper features, more manly. Less cute. Yoongi isn’t surprised he didn’t recognize him at first since his hair is a little bleached to a brighter brown, but he is surprised that he hadn’t heard Jimin speak the name. That name. Or maybe it didn’t register with him. That it was That Taehyung.

He’s staring Taehyung down— Taehyung staring right back.

”Yoongi-hyung, this is Kim Taehyung,” Jimin introduces, twisting in his seat to completely face them. ”Taehyung, this is Min Yoongi!”

Unsurely, Yoongi looks away and holds his hand out. Unsurprisingly, Taehyung doesn’t take it. He looks at it tentatively, then moves his bag from his lap to fit between them on the seat, being way too obvious. They’re apparently not going to pretend it didn’t happen for the sake of keeping peace.

”I know him,” Taehyung clarifies briskly, then, to everyone else’s surprise.

”Oh?” Looking worried, Jimin tilts his head and looks at Yoongi. He speaks with his lips pouted, hesitant. ”That’s… good?”

If his face had any color before, it’s completely drained by now. He can’t bear eye contact with anyone, fearing whatever comes next. So he gets busy rubbing his palms into his forehead, nursing an oncoming headache. Fate does exist apparently. In his case, though, it’s definitely a typical kind of bad luck.

”…Not good,” Jimin assumes.

The silence drags on as they turn to the highway. Yoongi clears his throat, looking over at the stranger he used to know, even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. He leans over the bag, even. They’re adults now, it should be different.

”We… could get along for a week, right?”

Taehyung stays tellingly quiet and pokes at Yoongi’s knee with his boot, trying to make him move away.

”So childish,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, putting his cheek against the opposite window and pinching his nose as if it’s physically painful.

”How… about some music,” Hoseok nervously interrupts, trying to save whatever’s left of the mood.

Jimin turns back around and wordlessly agrees to try and lighten the air. Yoongi tries to get a grip on the terrifying situation. He manages a whole half hour of silent driving with dissonant love music before he feels like throwing up.

The cozy car ride is now a traumatizing reliving of the day his heart broke for the first time. Hoseok and Jimin seem to be ignoring the issue at hand for now, but they don’t know. They don’t as far as Yoongi knows. Taehyung could have mentioned him. Maybe. Still, here he is, barely a seat away. Again. Music playing and a happy couple chattering on. The back seat is like a thunder cloud compared to the front.

Slowly, the cloud dissipates the more they get used to being next to each other again. They talk with the grooms, but not with each other. There’s not even passive-aggressive messages through other people. Just a complete, concrete invisible wall. It’s a chapter of his life that he thought he sealed up to something somewhat manageable. He’s moved on by now. But there’s always been a disconnect. He never got to know what really happened, and it’s frustrating to him to feel those thoughts seep back into his head at a time when he’s supposed to feel nothing but joy for his friends.

•

The first thing he does when he gets out of that car is to escape somewhere that feels less… that feels less. Yoongi seems just as eager to get away. Taehyung does want to talk to him, yell at him, maybe kick him in a shin or two. The wound is still that open.

But he knows this week isn’t about him. It’s about his best friend for once. Somehow, he needs to figure out how to act. What would be proper? How can he tone it down, this hammering in his head? It’s all very intrusive.

He’s not stupid. He noticed how much it worried Jimin. That can’t happen. This week can’t be dramatic. It shouldn’t be. All these thoughts go on a high speed tornado in his head as he tries to find somewhere in the beautiful garden where he can satisfy his vice without being too noticed.

Between the shiny greenery and the expanses of prettily designed flora, Taehyung walks, breathing smoke rather than the fresh air. Jimin would probably kill him if he saw it. Literally. He did say ”if you die, I’ll kill you” once. So he opts for hiding behind a big enough tree.

It’s a beautiful day. Really, it is. He pretends to himself that the sight of the scenery is what makes him tear up. His hiccups are just his bad lungs. The way his knees buck and he squats down against the tree is just jetlag. His sudden sickness, too. He doesn’t want to admit what he already knows.

•

Yoongi is unpacking in his assigned room when Hoseok knocks and doesn’t wait to let himself in. He has to quickly manage his deeply set frown that had taken over and smile unaturally instead. Just by his footsteps, he can tell it’s Hoseok. He turns his head and nods as a greeting. It’s not hard to guess what he wants to talk about.

”Hey…”

”What’s up?” Yoongi pretends to be very interested in folding his shirts.

”Well.” Hoseok sighs, sitting down on the bed right in his view. ”What happened back there?”

”…Good question,” he mumbles, messing up a sleeve and tossing the shirt down in frustration. ”Look, I’d rather not talk about it when you should be focusing on other things like marrying your fiancée and honeymooning and shit.”

”It’s okay,” his best friend muses, smiling with his dimples and grabbing his hands to still them. His eyes say he understands, but he wouldn’t. ”Life isn’t perfect like that.”

”…All you need to know is that we shouldn’t be sat next to each other,” Yoongi grunts, patting his hands and making him let go.

”You’re not friends, I think I got that already.”

”No, we’re definitely not,” he says on a big exhale, landing on the bed next to Hoseok.

”No way… you actually have exes?” It feels like a huge mockery in the way he says it, but Yoongi doesn’t take his dramatical reactions personal anymore.

”Ass. Don’t assume anything. Let’s just say that we come from the same small town, the rest is between me and him. I know both you and Jimin like to fix everyone’s happiness, but just leave it.” It’s starting to make him angry, and he’s not even arguing with anyone. The whole thing ever since way back has given him anger issues. Slight anger issues. ”It’s not fixable.”

”Leave it,” Hoseok repeats, skeptically.

”Trust me…”

”You know I do, hyung,” he nods, then dusts himself off. ”I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

”I’m …” he hesitates. He’s never okay, though, so what’s the difference? Instead, he decides to settle on a, ”Don’t worry about me. This week is about you.”

”Let me know though, if anything’s…”

”Hobi… I’m an adult,” Yoongi reminds him, as if that proves anything.

”Right… well. Dinner in five hours. Mingle or don’t, I’ll be around somewhere,” he excuses himself with, leaving quite swiftly. He probably has a lot to do and a lot of people to take care of. Yoongi does feel grateful that he stopped by and took time to try and talk about it, even if it’s none of his business.

•

”There you are! Where have you been?” Jimin chides when Taehyung walks into the fancy villa.

”I took a walk. Exploring,” he shrugs, dipping down to fit into the arm Jimin’s flings over his shoulders.

”For this long?… did you get lost?”

”You got me,” Taehyung jokes. He wants to stop talking about it and eat his feelings without making it obvious that that’s what he’s doing. While it’s very much a possibility that he’ll run into the one person on the planet that he doesn’t want to see.

”Tae… You’re hopeless. Call me next time that happens,” he coos, pinching his cheek tightly.

”Aren’t you busy?”

”Never too busy for you,” Jimin fake-flirts, leaning in to kiss his neck.

Taehyung immediately squirms and pushes at him, trying to force him away with a soft giggle. There’s nobody more effective at cheering him up than Jimin. Never will be. Jimin ends up tickling him until he decides Taehyung has laughed enough for him to feel at ease.

”Anyway,” he speaks, clearing his throat. He looks a bit older in his suit jacket, but Taehyung mostly finds him adorable, still. ”Most of the guests are resting, so I wanted to bring the closest gang together for a game of pool. I want you to meet them… but um…”

”What?”

”Yoongi hyung will probably be there, and you two seemed…”

”Oh, that? Don’t worry,” he smiles. It’s practiced. Acting is a part of modeling, and he’s near perfected it. Nobody will see through it. ”I just overreacted in the car. He’s an old… aquaintance. We don’t match well, is all.”

”It seemed like…” Jimin murmurs, thinking with his eyebrows knitted together. ”Like you were angry at something specific, though. You make it sound as if—”

”Chim! I told you. Don’t worry. I just didn’t expect to see him there, nothing more,” he muses cheerfully, running his fingers through his best friend’s perfectly styled hair, messing it up.

”Really?”

”Really.”

”Well, we were gonna play pool in the basement. You’re welcome to stop by. There’s some left-over food if you ask the staff, I think,” he rambles on a small smile. Taehyung feels him pat his ass, then he’s gone like the busiest wind in the world. Understandably.

When he goes to find food, turns out, he and Yoongi had the exact same idea. Wait for dinner to be over so they could avoid each other. Ironically, since they both did it, they’re in the dining hall almost completely alone together instead. Taehyung uses his phone as a lifeline, keeping his eyes glued so hard to it that he almost drops rice on the table. There’s no reception, so it’s probably a bad cover.

Yoongi is on the other side of the room, but it still feels like they’re sitting right next to each other. At one point, he glances up, and their eyes meet in an awkwardly long contact. It almost looks like Yoongi might open his mouth to speak. Taehyung averts his gaze before he does, shoving a wonderful mouthful of catered food in.

He focuses on feeling blessed about their oversized budget. Their parents must’ve pitched in a lot. It’s a shame he has to finish eating so quickly. What’s more, it’s a huge shame he still feels empty even if he eats a mountain of food.

•

”Babe,” Hoseok chides when his arm gets pulled. ”We’re getting married on Sunday. It’s not your problem.”

”But you agree that it’s a problem!” he insists, stripping out of his shirt. Hoseok’s eyes travel over his newly exposed skin, losing focus for a moment. Jimin snaps his fingers and lifts his dropped chin up.

”That’s not what I– …Yoongi-hyung told me to leave it when I asked,” Hoseok replies, hugging him close on the bed to try to get his mind to focus on something else. It doesn’t work. Jimin has the strongest will in the world.

”I can’t help it! I’ve never seen Taehyung stay quiet for longer than ten minutes… That car ride was hours long… and… nevermind– but you’ve seen those scenes in anime, right? People hate each other, and when you lock them in a room together, bam.” Jimin gestures wildly below him, trying to convince him the idea is worth a try.

”Bam, what?” Hoseok laughs, fixing Jimin’s bangs as his hips fit down between his legs.

”Bam, uh… I don’t know, but– It’s like–”

”Bam, you want them to bang?” To emphasize the word, he rolls his hips down and smirks at him, leaning on his elbow.

”No, shut up!” Jimin snorts, then bursts into a silent giggle that makes his whole body squirm.

”If we lock people that don’t like each other in a closet, I think they’re more likely to fight, you know. Do you want our best men to be black and blue? Hm? You’re cute when you want to help, but let’s just let them be,” Hoseok says in a soft, gentle, informative voice. ”Right? Promise?”

”If we just make them talk it out–…”

”Baby, no.”

”Just run some errands together…” Jimin suggests carefully, trying his best to look cute.

”Or… we could… focus on us?” Hoseok murmurs, running his fingers around Jimin’s ears, neatly folding his hair back. He’s tilting his head, leaning in closer, distracting from the topic at hand. ”Isn’t that what this is about?”

”I don’t wanna focus on you,” he teases jokingly.

”Oooh, really?” Making silly, mock-angry noises, Hoseok attacks his sides with full force, tickling him until he thrashes too far for him to hold. Jimin tries to act like he doesn’t like it, pressing his arms tightly in to his body and trying to hide in the sheets. He ends up losing the battle, getting too distracted to talk, in the end.

•

It’s too hot. Yoongi shuts his eyes and listens to the music. It’s not right. He fixes a few bars, leaning in until his back complains. Grabbing the half-eaten sandwich, scratching his bare foot with the other, he squints. It’s wrong.

Namjoon sits down next to him and instrusively closes his laptop.

”What,” Yoongi snaps, taking his headphones off. He knows not to disturb when he has flow. Gently, he realizes he’s not in the studio anymore. The wall behind them is way too lit for that.

”Vacation,” Namjoon reminds him, keeping his palm where it rests on the computer. Yoongi’s hands had started to try to open it back up.

”Sorry,” he instantly backtracks. He’d forgotten where he was, in the middle of the throes of writing music. It’s not what he planned to be doing, but he did bring the stuff just in case. ”Sorry, I, uh… got lost.”

”Well, stop working, my man,” he orders, grabbing the computer easily from his suddenly slack hands. ”The sun is out, the place is beautiful, your friends are playing around, Jimin’s dad is grilling in the yard… and you’re in the darkest corner of the loneliest room that you could find?”

”Yeah.” Sighing, he stretches his back out and lets Namjoon do his usual thing where he takes care of him like he doesn’t know how to handle himself on his own. It’s comfortable.

They walk to Yoongi’s room and leaves the technology behind to go join humanity. Yoongi stays safely hidden slightly behind the taller man, hands in his pocket so people won’t see him rudely clench his fists if his social anxiety gets to be a little too much. Namjoon doesn’t talk about the weather, rather fills him in on what he missed, which isn’t much. He understands his need for calm conversation, if any.

Taehyung is in the center of attention, having some sort of dude-off with Jungkook. Just the imagery of them together is surreal to Yoongi, so he quickly looks away from whatever that was. It looked like they were getting along just as well as they did during last night’s pool game. That’s good, he supposes. It’s just weird. He didn’t expect Taehyung to sommersault into his life again.

”Penny for your thoughts,” Namjoon half-jokes.

”It’s hot,” he replies. It wasn’t what he was thinking, but it’s true all the same.

”Take a shirt off. You’re wearing like, three layers.”

”Don’t want to,” he shrugs.

It’s actually more steamy than hot. Jin beelines as soon as he sees them, joining in on their walk. Yoongi considers the scenery more than anything else. The soft conversation is nice. Maybe he can do this. Avoiding Taehyung isn’t too hard. Not thinking about it is harder, but he’s good enough at pretending he isn’t. Everyone is so happy all around him. When he does let himself relax a little, introducing himself to Jimin’s parents isn’t that hard. He greets as many people he can before escaping into the comfort of a room with an AC again.

This time to try and sleep.

•

The worst part isn’t that they reunited in the most impossible way. It’s not seeing Yoongi again and trying to accept the fact that he definitely isn’t as over it as he thought he was. Actually, he’s not over it at all. It’s very raw still, even after all those years.

There’s something worse, nagging at him at the back of his head. Only meeting him again makes it all so very clear. Yoongi is lightyears over it. Obviously. He wasn’t into it to begin with.

It’s stabbing him in the neck, metaphorically. The first thing he said wasn’t ”hey”, or even ”it’s nice to see you” or ”long time”. He just asked if they couldn’t agree to ”get along” and told him he’s immature for being offended by it. As if it’s no big deal. Just pretend like it never happened, he seemed to say.

He should stop thinking about it. It’s impossible, though. Taehyung takes a deep drag of the cigarette and sinks back against the wall of the shed in the yard. It’s the perfect place, equipped with an atmospheric light and everything. Nobody would guess to look for him out here, and he’s well hidden if anyone would think to.

Footsteps startle him.

”Oh– uh, you… stole my spot,” Yoongi says, like he just walked right out of his thoughts. He’s dressed in all black, no surprise there, and his black hair looks like it needs a good wash. Older, though, he looks more defined, then at the same time even more tired. ”Got a light?”

Taehyung exhales slowly and ponders acting like he’s invisible for a moment. That’s stupid, he decides. He can’t ignore him when he’s talking right at him like this. It’s pathetic, in a way, but he still accepts that fact and digs through his pocket for the lighter. Yoongi looks strangely relieved when the cigarette between his lips is taken care of for him. It’s strangely unreal.

”I hope you didn’t start smoking because I did,” he comments uselessly. Yoongi gestures weakly at the smoke. ”Um… same brand.”

He’s right. It’s so hurtfully right on target. He doesn’t deserve to know that, though. Taehhyung looks at a man walking his dog some ways a way on the road.

They breathe quietly, together. Mismatched rhythms, as always.

”…Why won’t you talk when I talk to you?”

A more chilly wind passes by. The man picks up dog shit. Taehyung relates to him, sucking in cancerous smoke because his stress levels are hitting the ceiling. He has no patience to begin with, and it’s being tested. If he’d be honest, he’d say that it’s because he doesn’t know what to say.

”I can’t… handle it, not like this. We’re stuck here, you know? Can’t we just act like we’re okay?” Yoongi crosses his arms like he’s cold. Taehyung ignores the way he thinks it looks cool.

”You can’t handle this?” Scoffing, Taehyung blows the smoke out of his nose. ”I bet it’s so hard on you.”

”Excuse me?” Yoongi’s lower jaw grows tighter. He almost wants to apologize immediately, but he resists the urge. ”Of course it’s…”

”Oh, please,” he complains, snuffing the cigarette out against the wall even if he had a good minute left on it.

”It’s been years, Tae.”

”It sure has, but assholes never change,” he adds, nerves on edge. It’s a thing he could have kept to himself if he had been one of the lucky people with a mind-to-mouth filter. He’s not one of those people. Far from it, he lives on impulse. Impulse is telling him he’s right to be angry.

”The fuck?” the shorter man breathes, uncrossing his arms. ”What’s your damage?”

”My damage is what you did,” he says a little too loudly, slamming his fist into the shed. Yoongi jumps at the action. ”Call me a kid if you want. I know you want to. Kids are easier to brush aside, right?”

”What I did? You’re no saint,” Yoongi spits back, slamming his fist down right next to Taehyung’s.

He can’t believe it. Again, he’s shocked out of his words. Yoongi is trying to blame him for what went down. He knows he’s an accomplice, in some ways. Sure. There were times he could have been more honest. But he was never the bad guy. It wasn’t hard to guess his truth. What was more unexpected is what Yoongi’s honesty ended up being in the end. And now he’s playing a victim. What a joke.

Taehyung only laughs apathetically and shrugs, turning on his heel to leave him alone. They obviously can’t talk. He should’ve known it wasn’t even worth trying. Tears sting his eyes as he walks across the yard. Inside, he avoids meeting anyone’s eyes and manages to keep attention away from himself. Usually, he’d make sure he doesn’t smell before going back inside, but he completely forgets.

•

”Suck it,” Jungkook grins mischievously, slamming two chips down on the table.

It’s another late night in the bar. Jimin can barely keep himself awake, nearly passed out from so much socializing and organizing and worrying, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t hang out with his friends. They’re all here, save for his future husband, who is (probably vividly) entertaining their relatives who are still awake. Thank god.

Hoseok had convinced him to let it go, and he had. He really tried his best. But it’s almost as if Yoongi and Taehyung want him to step in and get them to make friends. They don’t even try to keep it under wraps anymore, and it’s only the third day of the week. It’s really distracting, the way they seem to be begging for his help.

Okay… to be honest… he might be focusing on it this much because if he didn’t, he’d be having a major meltdown. In four days, he’ll tie the knot. Forever. The pressure is intense. So at the same time that he worries for them, he’s thankful for their troubles keeping his mind busy.

So tonight Jimin has managed to gather the night owls together for a game of poker. Taehyung and Yoongi are begrudgingly in the same room, and had they been cats, they’d been glued to opposite walls. He gets that feeling. Jin is a mood-lightener with his funny style of playing. Namjoon is silent, trying to strategize in his head. Jungkook wins easily, with endless strokes of beginner’s luck.

”Okay, let’s play for real,” Jimin insists cheerfully, putting his drink aside to shuffle the deck.

”Get ready to be served,” Jin huffs confidently.

The air is fine. It’s almost like everyone gets along at first. Simple enough rules, nothing special. Jimin momentarily forgets that Taehyung and Yoongi are fighting, but that’s because they’re not talking to each other. It’s no surprise, but the change is in the way they look at each other now instead of just avoiding it completely.

”I… will… fold…” Jungkook mumbles, squinting playfully. ”Not! I raise!” When he breaks into one of his magazine-worthy smiles, Taehyung finally breaks a smile and ruffles the hair in the back of his neck.

At least he gets along really well with someone. Jimin was scared he might feel left out, but they all seem to accept Taehyung with much issue. Well… all but one.

”Fold,” Namjoon shrugs, almost ripping the cards when he puts them down.

”Call,” Yoongi simply nods, tossing his chips out as if he’s been playing professionally for years. Jimin would laugh if he didn’t know it might hurt his feelings, so he just sips his whiskey instead.

”He’s bluffing,” Taehyung says between two very faked coughs, in Jungkook’s direction. He folds then, himself. Jimin gives him a side-eye. He seems to jump a little, as if someone kicked him under the table.

The only one who’s obviously bluffing is Jin, who has a twitch to his eyebrow whenever he lies. Yoongi doesn’t look any different to his normal, blank expression. Jimin deals the last card. Yoongi checks. Jungkook sits up straighter, shoots a glance at Taehyung, who nods. He raises. Yoongi rolls his eyes and raises. Jungkook checks, and Yoongi raises again. Jungkook calls.

When they reveal their cards, Yoongi does it with a defeated sigh. Jimin raises his eyebrows when he’s revealed to have been bluffing. Taehyung highfives Jungkook gleefully. Jimin ponders how he could have known as Jungkook gathers the chips.

Eventually, they all get a little tired. Jungkook first, announces he wants to go running, and leaves his chips in Taehyung’s hands, saying he’s the one who earned them. Jimin yawns then, but is determined to stay for as long as possible.

”Let’s go to bed,” Namjoon whines, head resting on Jin’s shoulder. They seem to be bored with the game now that they’re not involved anymore.

”Yes, let’s,” Jin agrees, yawning widely.

”It’s not that– actually… that’s pretty late,” Jimin agrees when he spots the clock on the wall. His hand is restlessly flipping leftover cards.

”Good night,” Taehyung says simply, fully focused on the game.

”I fold,” Yoongi quips. ”Night.”

It’s like the world outside their game doesn’t exist. Jimin might as well be a picture on the wall once Jin and Namjoon leaves the room. Jimin deals for them silently, observing the way they stare each other down. If he’s quiet enough, maybe they’ll forget he’s there and start talking. No luck though, they keep the game going for another half hour without talking outside the game terms.

Jimin dozes off by the end of it, leaning against the table.

Voices startle him awake. He has no idea how long he’d been napping accidentally. It’s as if he zip-lined through time.

”Oh, right, because it’s all my fault,” Yoongi says. He’s known to be humorously sarcastic at times, but this time he sounds more pointedly rude than anything else. ”Forgive me, great lord asswipe.”

”You weren’t counting, so yeah, it’s your fault,” Taehyung replies. Jimin isn’t used to hearing him angry. Sad, yeah. Pouty, absolutely. Annoyed, sure. But angry? Not really. Taehyung tosses a card across the table. Jimin doesn’t see it from his position that he’s been frozen in, but he hears and guesses that’s what it is.

”Takes two to tango.” Jimin hears someone shift in their seat. He wonders if he should let them know he’s not sleeping anymore. It feels like the kind of conversation he shouldn’t be listening in on.

”You’re a terrible dancer,” Taehyung replies. ”Does it really take two to tango if one of the two fucking suck at tango?”

”Can you fucking stop acting like a victim–”

”A victim? Me? Why would anyone play a victim when they’re not? Who would do that? Oh…. I know! You.”

”…If you’d just fucking talk to me like a mature adult,” Yoongi mutters. ”We’d get past this.”

”Yeah, okay, I’m immature, thanks, got it.” The floorboards creak, and Jimin’s nose itches, but he wants to hear more. It’s on the brink of something more clear. ”I’m not over it. Stop trying to force me to act like it’s fine!”

His pinky fidgets. He’s been sleeping on his hand, and it prickles with lost sensation. It really wants to move. But he struggles to stay still and calm. For a long moment, he can only hear them breathing, and tries not to be too obviously awake.

”…You’re not?”

”No.”

The table dips slightly. Jimin wants to peek up, and catches a peripheral view of how close they are, but they’re too close for him to see properly without moving. It might just be his imagination, but he thinks he hears a… He has to sit up in surprise when the table tips too much, then slams back up. It hurts his jaw and he yells out, falling back and off the stool. He lands clumsily on the floor but manages not to get hurt anywhere else. His friends shout his name in unison and Yoongi kneels down next to him, instantly helping him up.

”You okay?” he asks gently. Jimin blinks and only barely catches Taehyung leaving the room. He’ll have to check on him before going to bed. Who knows what’s going on anymore.

”I’m alright… thanks,” Jimin smiles.

There’s something unreadable about Yoongi when they stand there, left in a weird silence. It’s hard to know if it’s okay to ask, so he doesn’t.

•

He didn’t mean to make it worse. After that night outside when they broke the silence he’d woved not to say unecessary things. It would be unlike him not to speak his mind though, so as soon as it felt like nobody was in the room last night, they exploded into disagreements again.

Taehyung is left itching with frustration. Something isn’t right about all of it. What would Yoongi have to be angry about? What does he mean when he thinks Taehyung did anything wrong? Why would he kiss him after all of that? To piss him off more? He can’t relax properly. He tries, but it’s just ridiculous.

Outside, the weather is beautiful. There’s a big picnic gathering with barbeque and live music. He’d find it amazing if it wasn’t for the fact that his ex, if he can even call him that, is a focal point. Yoongi is off to the side, with Namjoon and Jungkook front and center. Taehyung tries to keep his eyes on the guitarist and drummer but they keep sliding towards someone else. It’s a joke to sit on a blanket and watch Yoongi perform in the garden as if he’s formal and proper. What’s worse is that he looks better than he ever did before.

”What do you think?” Jimin asks, a little breathless from running around and taking care of all his guests.

”Hmmm… I was kinda…I was a bit worried about how you’d entertain this much people for a whole week, but you’re doing it,” Taehyung nods.

”You really think so? Is it good? This?” His cheeks are a lovely rose.

”Dude… Yes. You guys are amazing, so sit down for a bit,” he orders, pulling at Jimin’s hands. He helplessly follows, weak down to his bones from all the running around. ”People can take care of themselves.”

”I know! It’s just– ugh, I dunno…” he sighs, falling over until his head leands in Taehyung’s lap tiredly.

”Shh…” Taehyung hums on a smile and massages Jimin’s temples until he gives up completely.

”…Tae… Are you having fun?”

”Sure,” he says, trying to evade the question. Jimin doesn’t push it any further.

If he closes his eyes, it’s not too bad. He can’t even tell that Yoongi is the one playing piano. He can pretend he’s in France or wherever dreamy romantic landscape and the person on his lap isn’t his best friend but maybe a handsome stranger that he doesn’t have to love. The longer he keeps them closed, though, he begins to escape to memories rather than daydreams.

***

It’s early spring and he’s wearing red boots to ward off the rainwater. His mother is giving piano lessons at home and he’s been forcefully instructed not to be inside because he can’t sit still for more than five minutes and doesn’t know it yet, but actually revels in attention and affection. It’s something he figures out later.

So he’s running around with the family dog, his absolute best friend at the time. The rain has stopped, but the weather is absolutely terrible. It’s custom for his mother to be upset at most things he does, but he still doesn’t stop the dog from rolling in the mud. Why not? she’s having fun. The problem is that he also gets soaked in mud from the impact of it.

When he walks back in, trying to be quiet, to find something to dry the dog off before letting it in, he freezes. He’s stopped in the middle of sliding off his boot. Not by anything except the sound of a piano. The kind of sound that usually encompasses their home. But this time is different. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard. He’s never wanted to play the piano before, but the way the melody tugs at him tells him maybe it’s worth a try.

”Sweetheart,” his mother complains when her lesson is over and she sees his hap-hazard attempt at cleaning the hall and porch.

He’d apologise but he’s busy trying to convince the older boy to give out his phone number so he can teach him how to do what he did. His mom complains that she can teach him anything that has to do with piano, but he knows it’s not the same. She reads the notes and plays everything exactly right. This boy knows how to make his own music. It’s amazing. Taehyung is starstruck for the first time ever and Yoongi is patient enough not to brush him off like the other older kids.

***

”What are you thinking about?” Jimin asks, bringing him back to the present.

”Dogs,” Taehyung replies, fast as lightning. He opens his eyes and takes his fingers out of Jimin hair, leaving it a tousled mess.

”Ah…” he exhales, accepting the explanation. He gets off the blanket and dusts himself off, saying, ”I’d better keep at it– the hot dogs won’t serve themselves.”

Taehyung only agrees wordlessly, letting him leave. At least he rested a little.

It’s in the cleaning up that he ends up entering he bermuda triangle, i.e. interacting with Yoongi. He’s halfway through busboying plates and blankets when a familiar tune breaks his concentration completely. He can’t do anything but listen. No thoughts interrupt the tune loudly enough.

”I don’t get it,” Jungkook snorts, tuning the guitar. The performance is over, and they’re just playing around with their instruments. ”It sounds bad, why do you keep playing it like that?”

”Because it’s a duet,” Taehyung mumbles on impulse, on his way past.

Yoongi pauses. Taehyung’s feet come to a stop behind the piano. Jungkook looks up curiously, perking up a little with a bit of a furrow to his brow. Nobody else is paying attention to them, busy making the garden pretty again and trying to remove every trace of human loitering.

”Pardon?” Jungkook leans on the piano.

”…uh, It’s meant to be played– with two,” he replies, fumbling with his words.

”…Is it famous?”

”No, I, um… here,” Taehyung mutters, parking himself down on the stool next to Yoongi. Way too close.

He doesn’t say anything. Their eyes meet momentarily, and Yoongi nods. One, two, three, and his fingers touch the keys like he does this all the time. It’s probably the only song he knows, but it’s easy. It’s not something he struggles to remember. They just play.

”Oh!” Jungkook whistles.

”Told you, it’s a great song,” Yoongi scoffs almost proudly. Taehyung can’t look up, focusing on hitting the right notes. Their thighs are touching.

”I wouldn’t say great,” the younger man teases. ”It’s not terrible anymore.”

”It’s my favorite,” he says then. It’s not really obvious to Taehyung who he says it to. What he knows is that he wish he hadn’t heard it. His hands slip from the piano.

”Really?… huh. How’d you know it, Taehyung-hyung?” Jungkook asks cheerfully.

”Should you guys be playing around when everyone’s helping out?” he shoots back instead of replying, escaping the tender way Yoongi’s side touches his by getting up and pretending he’s going to go back to being very very busy.

”I guess not,” he grins.

Yoongi plays a different song when he leaves the little patch of grass they’d perched the instruments and speakers on. Taehyung walks away with a heavy stone burrowed in his chest. Too much is coming back, rippling like a tide. He thought he’d put it all away in storage, classified and hidden. Instead it’s so undeniably clear and piercing.

•

”What are you doing for New Years?” he asks for the second time, trying to overpower the music with his voice.

”Oh… nothing special, I, uh, some party maybe, or just…” Someone pushes past them, and Taehyung has to step forward. Yoongi catches him gently, fumbling so bad the beer can almost drops out of his hand.

”Ah…” he hums, trying not to be disappointed that he already seems to have plans.

”…What? Why?” Yoongi mumbles, hands still on Taehyung’s shoulders as he leans in closer.

”Hmm… um… my parents aren’t…”

”Can’t hear you– Come on– let’s–”

He’s lead out, away from most of the noise. They walk through the crowded rooms until they find a quiet place in the kitchen. Taehyung leans on the counter and is grateful for the darkness in the room helping him feel more confident to get the words out. What isn’t helping is the way Yoongi, a little too drunk, presses against him. He probably isn’t even realizing what he’s doing.

”What were we…” he says, eyes squinting.

”New Years,” Taehyung reminds him. He takes a sip of his drink, feeling like he needs to catch up a little. His palms are sweating, and the can slips and hits his lip a little too hard.

”New Years!” he nods. ”Yeah, sorry, what were you saying about it?”

”My parents won’t be home.” The words blurt out before he can decide not to say them.

”…Ah,” Yoongi breathes, putting his can down on the counter behind Taehyung. It’s almost like a hug. ”So you… mean…”

”What we talked about! We could… do that,” he mutters nervously.

”If you really… want to…” Yoongi shrugs, shifting back slightly. That way, he can see the way his eyes search for doubt.

”Well– …You told me… you’d be fine with going that far.”

”Yeah, I mean, yeah… It’s more like you’re teaching me at this point though,” he smiles. It looks like he’s imagining one or two things. ”I’m not, you know… just because I’m older, doesn’t mean I’m better than someone you’d start dating. It’s something you’re supposed to do with someone you… love, you know.”

”Please,” Taehyung snorts, letting Yoongi step in between his legs when he sits up on the counter. ”I… trust you, so… I wanna do it.”

”Okay… Alright, well, obviously, I’m in.” Yoongi is dipping his head a little to meet his eyes better, and they’re glimmering with playfulness.

”Okay,” he breathes, nodding repeatedly and trying not to be too obviously excited about it.

•

It’s okay. He can’t look at Taehyung out of fear he’ll want to punch him in the face, but it’s more okay than he thought it would be. It’s impossible to know what Taehyung is even blaming him so resentfully for, so why should he ruin a good time over it? The point right now is to have a good time.

Yoongi wanders down to the parlor with a self-serve bar where soft jazz is playing through loudspeakers. The whole atmosphere about the place is a little too fancy for him. It’s late, and there’s barely any other people around. He’s relieved to find Hoseok in one of the corners, for once not in the company of guests.

”Hey.” Sitting down next to his friend, he pats his thigh.

”Oh– hi,” Hoseok says, startled… or… more shaken. Like he’d been lost in his thoughts.

”You look… tired,” Yoongi points out, surprised at the fact. He takes Hoseok’s drink out of his hand, because it looks like he shouldn’t have it at the moment. ”You okay?”

”Yeah, I’m fine! Fine,” he laughs, the way his lips tug telling of a faked smile. Yoongi only has to tilt his head in suspicion before the smile fades. Hoseok sighs then, and puts his head in his hands. Yoongi’s eyes note the row of empty glasses in front of him. ”Okay, not fine… I’m… freaking out…”

”Okay… how so? Talk,” he urges, putting the glass on the table, as far away as he can.

”I’m getting married on Friday.”

”Yeah, I’m aware.”

”I’m getting married in two days,” Hoseok almost hysterically whispers. ”I’m getting married to the love of my life, and– and– he’s beautiful, talented and…. he’s got so much love in his heart, and when he smiles… I love him so much.”

”Okay,” Yoongi says, trying to calm him, massaging his back with the closest hand. It’s rock hard with tension and stress. Like the limb of a sculpture. ”You’re getting married to the person you love, we know that, dumbass. What’s the actual problem? Because it sounds like a dream to me.”

”It’s… stupid, probably,” he slurs, putting his hands on his chin and staring out at the room. There’s a sway in his body, and he closes his eyes tightly for a moment.

”Probably,” Yoongi agrees.

”Shut up,” Hoseok snorts, slapping his side. Yoongi smiles when Hoseok smiles.

”Tell me anyway.”

”I feel like… he’s making a mistake. Even right now, it’s like he’s trying to focus on other people so he doesn’t change his mind. Like he wants to– and I’d understand that. I’m nothing like what he deserves,” he rambles nonsensically. It probably makes sense in his head, Yoongi figures. It sounds like he’s been thinking it over for a while.

”First of all, I disagree, but you know that already…”

They pause in silent thought for a while. The song playing changes. Yoongi wonders what to say that could help. He knows something he can pull out of his sleeve, but it’s not something he’s shared with anyone before. Still, his best friend is considering backing out of what would probably be the best day of his life. After all, these two make Yoongi believe in love. It’s corny, but they do. He’s even planned to mention it in his speech.

”Okay,” Yoongi sighs, patting Hoseok’s back. ”I’ll tell you something… but, just know this was a long time ago, so– there’s nothing to do about it now.”

Hoseok looks up from where he was staring at the floor, all ears. Yoongi can only hope this is what he needs to hear to feel better.

”A very long time ago, before I knew you, I was… in love. Yeah. I didn’t know it then, but it must have been love. Nothing else has felt like it since,” he admits, choosing his words carefully. ”…And… I did the one thing I shouldn’t have.”

He has to pause for air. It’s sore, and he’s picking at it. His open wound. Hoseok watches him think about how to explain.

”It was a sort of… no-strings-attached thing,” he says, swallowing down air. ”It could have been… something… else— I don’t know, but I never… I never said anything, I didn’t believe he’d feel the same, so I just… selfishly assumed and left. —Telling myself it was for the best, you know?”

”You’ve never talked about this…” Hoseok mutters, sympathetic tears glimmering at the corner of his eyes.

”My point is,” he says a little louder, clearing his throat to try and move the focus away from himself and that issue. ”These thoughts you’re having is… something you should tell Jimin. Before you do something stupid on your own. Because it’s more than a fact that he loves you. Don’t be an idiot.”

”…Yeah,” he agrees. ”Yeah, you’re right. I’m just… it’s so soon. It’s crazy…”

”Talk to him. Make him freak out about it too. Isn’t that what marriage is? Sharing,” he snorts. ”So tell him what you’re feeling.”

”Mm,” Hoseok nods. ”Thanks… I will… Are you okay, though?”

”Told you. It was a long time ago,” he insists, acting stronger than he feels.

Hoseok accepts the lie. As if he knows.

•

It’s too much, so he leaves Hoseok to go smoke the stress away. He has voilently tried to avoid thinking about these facts. How he loved him. What they had that just ended with the snap of a finger. And he never asked. Too many things were left hanging in the air, undefined.

The chilly air is refreshing. Nobody is outside except an old couple walking past him on his way to the shed. More and more relatives that Yoongi doesn’t know have been showing up, but they’re too many. He doesn’t remember who they are, but bows politely at them anyway. They look happy. His sneakers come to a stop by the shed.

At this point, it’s not a surprise that Taehyung is there. They’ve been stubbornly trying to share the perfect spot that is out of Jimin’s judging and hawk-like eyesight.

What’s surprising is what he’s doing. Yoongi pauses in fear of finding out what it means. He’s squatted down against the wall, his expensive-looking coat reaching the dirt. His face is turned down and there’s a long since abandoned, almost brunt out cigarette between his limp, outstretched fingers. In his hair, his other hand is buried like it’s cramping for leverage, trying to pull it out of his head.

He tries to back away, but he stumbles too soundly. Taehyung looks up then. Lit up by the shed light, in clear view, is a tear-streaked mess of a face. There’s even a line of snot to his quivering, swollen lips. Yoongi is shocked to see him this way again and definitely doesn’t want to know if he’s the reason. Taehyung has seemed so closed off and cold the whole time. Proud. Macho.

Something about him squatting down in an emotional breakdown has Yoongi thinking he really is as beautiful as he was back then. His heart hits him with an extra speedy beat.

”Uh,” he stammers.

Weakly, Taehyung hides himself in his coat. His arms shield his face like a hug.

”…Sorry,” Yoongi offers, turning on his heel. To be fair, he was out in the open, so he doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. Maybe it’s something else. Whatever it is, it’s making his eyes sting and stomach churn. Taehyung looked like he’d been crying his heart out.

•

”You’re… fighting? But you’re getting married tomorrow,” Taehyung wonders.

”We’re not fighting… just… I’m being scolded,” Hoseok promises, patting his shoulders. ”Do everything Jimin wants right now, okay? I… um, just do it. Whatever he asks for. You don’t wanna annoy him more.”

”Okay… and you can’t go get this list from him because…?”

”Because he doesn’t want me to see him until we’re at the altar.”

”Right-o,” Taehyung snorts and takes the piece of paper he’s been asked to deliver. He’s curious to know what’s happened so suddenly, but decides now is not the time to make Hoseok look any more tired than he already does. Hoseok thanks him and he goes to find Jimin.

Jimin does seem shaken… or rather… this subdued kind of anger he manages to uphold whenever he’s really offended. He’s also just as busy and stressed out as his partner, walking to one place to another in a fast pace. Taehyung tries to keep in line with his steps.

”– and I really need you to go to this adress and pack the flowers in the van and get back here. It’ll go faster if you’re not alone so…” Jimin looks around the room, analyzing. He walks faster and grabs Yoongi by his arm, who was standing around and doing mostly nothing. ”Bring hyung.”

Taehyung and Yoongi share a look. Things has gotten worse than just fighting over the past. Since Yoongi saw him crying, there’s been this awkward shift of attitude, and they again don’t know how to face each other. They haven’t said a word, once again.

”There’s no time for this childish… whatever, okay? You’re just doing a delivery. So go, I’m busy,” Jimin says simply, pushing them together and leaving swiftly.

Taehyung folds the note with the adress he got and puts it in his pocket with the keys to the car. He begins to walk towards it and thinks that Yoongi will follow if he wants to. Hoseok told him to follow orders, so he’s going to be doing that. There’s something more important happening than his past resurfacing. Namely a wedding.

When they get in the van, Taehyung wordlessly hands Yoongi the note as if to say he’s navigating. It’s easy enough. Driving. Finding the place in a small town near the countryside where they’re staying. It turns out, however, that they have to wait for the order to be completed, which it won’t for another hour. Taehyung texts Jimin to let him know, and is told the van isn’t needed for anything else.

”Hungry?” Yoongi asks him, pointing his thumb at a café as he snuffs out a cigarette with his foot.

”Sure,” Taehyung nods.

There’s a muted invisible wall in the air. Silently, they walk side by side. Yoongi orders for him when they step inside the quaint place. The interior looks like it could be at least fifty years old. Behind the counter, the lady looks older than that. Taehyung finds he likes it, sitting down on one of the rickety chairs. Yoongi has the sandwiches on trays as he sits down, too.

It’s a breath of fresh air to be somewhere to be somewhere that is standing still, compared to the venue, where everyone is running around and talking, talking, talking. It has been bustling with excitement all week. Taehyung finds comfort in eating a cheap lunch in a cute café with someone who doesn’t talk much. Even less now that he saw a glimpse of Taehyung’s secret.

He mumbles something between bites.

”What?” Taehyung mumbles back, but only because his mouth is full.

”I said… uh, you look pretty with long hair like that…” he says, like he’s unsure if it’s okay to say.

”Oh… thanks…” He has to fiddle a bit with it when it’s mentioned.

They finish lunch, and Yoongi goes to get them coffee. He’s a bit surprised that he remembers how he likes it. Ten percent coffee, ninety percent milk. The silence drags on for a while, and they admire the sight of the quietest street in the country.

”I wanna know,” he says suddenly.

Taehyung tries to give him a look that means that he doesn’t understand at all. It seems to convey itself well.

”I mean… uhh… I don’t get why you hate me so much,” Yoongi explains.

”Oh… you… wanna talk.” His heart jumps. Taehyung perches his chin on his entwined fingers.

”Yeah.” Yoongi nods, looking settled and calm. Of course. The whole thing might not be rattling him as bad. He never seems to stir too much emotionally.

”….What is it you don’t get?” Taehyung asks boldly, trying to look more confident. He checks the time on his phone and sips the coffee, trying to seem nonchalant, but he burns his tongue.

”I don’t get what you’re blaming me for. What you think I did wrong. We weren’t… together. I feel like… I dunno,” Yoongi ponders, fingers tapping the table. He hides behind his mug and casually checks if the lady at the counter is listening in. She isn’t.

”That’s…” Taehyung snorts. ”I told you not to leave. You left. Like it didn’t mean anything to you. What else is there?”

”Wait… you… didn’t you just think that my parents were right, and what I wanted to do was a waste of time. You acted like you were disappointed, like them. I got angry and left sooner because of that. I never said we didn’t matter.” He looks honestly frustrated, reaching out and placing his hand close enough to touch on the table.

”No… when did I say that wanting to become a musician was a bad idea? If I did, it was a lie. I just… didn’t… want you to leave because I… loved you. Is that so hard to understand?” he says, brows furrowing. It might be the first time he says it out loud, but there it is. There it is, and there his sweaty hand is, resting gently on top of Yoongi’s.

”…. What?”

”I felt like you were using me, even if… I know I have no right to be hurt, since it was my idea, but… That’s how I felt– feel. Sorry,” he murmurs. It feels good to finally lay the cards on the table, even if he’s five years too late.

”No, Tae, that’s…”

He only has time to breathe before his phone startles them out of the conversation. It’s the flower shop, letting them know the order is ready. Both with eyes a little glazed over, tip the lady behind the counter and goes to do what they came to do. They pack up fast enough, get the car going and sit in silence on their way back. Yet again. If awkward was a nation, Taehyung and Yoongi would be it’s presidents.

•

His heart is still beating hard even hours after the conversation. He wanted to talk more, and know more. It was such a relief to finally find something out after a week of pointless fighting and emotional instability. He can’t even sleep thinking about it. The wedding should be the thing making him excited, but here he is, sleepless in bed, thinking about an old fuck up. Which may have been a bigger fuck up than he originally thought.

He’d try to sleep, but it’s no use. Instead, he’s on his laptop, writing a song on this high of new personal experiences to write about. All the lyrics he’d previously written are now wrong. Well, not wrong, just… mistaken. Yoongi shifts in his sheets and tries to imagine what life would have been like if he’d just been honest from the start. How it could have played out differently.

Around one AM, there’s a tentative knock at his door. He puts his work aside for a moment and gets up to answer it. On the other side of the dark wooden door, he’s again surprised to see Taehyung, looking like he was five minutes away from sleep.

”Ah… hey,” he says, trying not to come off in any wrong way. The door he opened at lunch could close just as quickly. ”Uh… Come in.”

”Thanks,” Taehyung smiles and takes the place Yoongi gives him when he steps aside.

He closes the door and wonders if his hands are too wet, wiping them off on his sweat pants. His throat suddenly feels dry as he walks over to check if he has anything in the room that he could offer. It’s like he’s seventeen and it’s New Years eve in Taehyung’s parents’ bed.

”Beer?”

”Sure.”

Yoongi opens two bottles and encourages Taehyung to sit down on the bed. He takes place next to him and runs his fingers through his hair, mind running on high speed. Their eyes meet momentarily, again, and it feels like he’s back at that café. It takes a moment before Taehyung begins to explain why he came.

”Look, I… I came to say sorry. I’ve been childish, and I really want to… get past this …thing… before the ceremony tomorrow. So it can be a happy day,” he rambles all at once, slowly choosing each word, like he’s been practicing in the mirror. ”For Jimin and…”

”I get it,” Yoongi admits. ”I had no idea you… I mean… I’m sorry too, for getting angry. At all.”

It’s an impulse he acts on. After a swig of beer, he takes Taehyung’s hand in his own. They used to do this when they were playing piano together, or if Taehyung was being stubborn. There’s a strangely nostalgic calm over the things they’ve gotten out of the system over just one cup of coffee. To get along, just hold hands.

”You… loved me, huh,” he states, just to get affirmation of the most important thing he never knew.

”… More than you could know,” Taehyung replies, pursing his lips. His hand is finally starting to agree with the position it’s in, snaking in more snugly. ”You broke my heart.”

It’s a lot to take in. He guessed that part after their lunch date, but it’s still difficult to wrap his head around it.

”…Well,” Yoongi has to sigh. A big sigh. ”If it makes you feel better, I broke my own, too.”

Taehyung’s eyes are big and curious. They look like they’ve been crying again, tell-tale signs of redness at the edges. It makes Yoongi feel like he should have been crying too.

”I should’ve told you I wanted you to be mine, to come with me, but… I was a coward who was scared… you wouldn’t come…”

He breathes slowly, averting his gaze for a moment. It was surprisingly easy to say. He taps a finger to his bottle gently, shifting uncomfortably. The quiet pause stretches out for a full minute. His toes curl involuntarily against the floorboards.

”I didn’t know…” A broken smile stretches Taehyung’s lips. His eyes are wet now, and Yoongi feels like maybe they shouldn’t take the conversation too far. They only just reunited six days ago. He lifts his own bottle towards Taehyung’s and clink them together clumsily.

”To missed opportunities,” he offers.

Taehyung dips his head shyly and repeats the toast, bringing the beer to his lips.

•

It’s not what he meant to do. The mission was to go, apologise, come back and feel better. Maybe get to sleep. Get excited for his best friend’s wedding. Cry happy tears instead of mourning something that could have been so much more than it was. Simple enough. But life doesn’t align itself to expectations. It does the exact opposite.

They’re talking. Talking about memories, what they’ve been up to. Relationships, even. They’ve been talking too long. The clock keeps telling him to leave but his body is frozen in the spot he’d made on the bed. They’re lost in a bubble of careful steps towards finding who they used to be together. It isn’t the same but it’s getting close.

He’s not sure who leaned in first. He doesn’t know why his heart was racing so hard. He has no clue why it feels so good to shyly let his chin fall when Yoongi’s head is so close to him again. When he tastes like he did back then. When his smile is the same smile. When he’s just as tipsy and they have no moral compass.

”Sorry, that’s,” Yoongi says, trying to ruin the mood.

”That’s Calvin Klein,” Taehyung offers, pointing down to where his pants has ridden down slightly.

”That’s… true.”

”They’re soft,” he hums, tilting his hips.

Yoongi takes the bait, running a thumb along the hemline of his underwear as if he needs to see if they really are. Taehyung jumps at the opportunity to kiss him again, showing off all the skill he’s learnt without him, running his tounge along his lower lip and licking into his very willing mouth.

”Maybe we shouldn’t,” Yoongi pants, breaking apart again, fingers on his hips.

”Yeah, you’re right. Maybe we should stop smoking,” Taehyung breathes, voice weaker when he feels a thumb brush his skin directly.

The older man laughs at his joke, sitting down between his spread legs, where he belongs. ”It’s kinda weird to see you smoke… even if… you look good doing it.”

”Yeah?” he almost whines.

”Yeah…”

”It’s… cause I wanted to taste you again,” Taehyung confesses, all out of determination and strength, and all those other things that build tension. He can’t hold back at all anymore. ”I couldn’t stop.”

”Shit,” Yoong curses under his breath, lifting Taehyung slightly off the mattress to come in closer. ”Stop, or I won’t… I can’t…”

He takes Yoongi’s face in his hands and looks at him, as earnestly as he can. This point needs to come across. Time outside this room doesn’t exist. He’s in a time-flip, and this is the only thing that matters. Their eyes meet for the first time in since they met. Properly. Right. Completely.

”This is really dumb,” Yoongi speaks, breathing into his mouth.

”Yeah,” Taehyung says, agreeing just for the sake of agreeing.

The older man seems to change his mind then, moving away slightly. Taehyung doesn’t even wait one second before grabbing his arms and pulling him back in.

”Stay,” he begs. How many years has he waited just to say that one word? ”Um… I mean— let me stay.”

Yoongi searches his eyes slowly. He then begins to lay down a trail of wet kisses over his sunkissed skin. The knot in his stomach settles as he spreads his palms over Yoongi’s clothed back.

•

It’s so perfect. He has no idea how it all fell into place so well in the end, but he wakes up with an armful of warm and clingy man. Yoongi is close to alert, but he stays still, brushing through Taehyung’s hair with his fingers. His expression is one similar to whiny kid about to complain, but at the same time peaceful. Each time he lets his hand through his tangled hair, Taehyung stirs slightly and hugs him closer, mumbling in his sleep.

There’s a very loud knock at the door, interrupting his safe haven. Yoongi wrinkles his face up and glares at it. Not now, he asks internally, as kindly as he can manage. It stops, as if it heard his thoughts. He rolls his neck and flops down to relax again. Taehyung opens one eye slightly, the other one too slow to make the effort.

”Hey,” he tries. No matter what he says right now, he’s pretty sure Taehyung won’t be able to process. Once, he snoozed for maybe five hours.

”Mm,” Taehyung agrees, pouty lips curving up into a big, very welcome smile. He stretches in his hold before clinging closer and burying his face right in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

The door bangs powerfully now. Yoongi groans and hugs Taehyung close instead of answering. It’s too cold in the room to leave the little cocoon they’ve made.

”Hyung! Come on!” Hoseok whines. He registers it, but not completely. ”It’s my wedding day, don’t do this!”

At that, he is immediately up. The other man tries to keep him in bed, but he springs up, rolling out of his arms clumsily, like a rag doll. Searching the room, he pulls on a pair of pants quickly and shuffles to the door, flinging it open. A very distressed best friend was just about to hit the door again, and almost punches him in the face. Thankfully, he manages to stop just in time.

”Oh.”

”Sorry,” Yoongi grumbles, squinting, leaning back into the room to check the time. It’s way past when he was supposed to get up. His eyes land on Taehyung again, and when he turns back, he has the mind to not hold the door too open and only barely peek out.

”Oh my god…” Hoseok groans, stumbling as if he’s losing his balance. ”He’s with you?!”

”…What?” Still half-awake, he ruffles his hair and acts as if he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

”You guys better get dressed… before I lose my shit,” Hoseok informs him, pointing powerfully.

”Whaat…? What’d I do?”

”Jimin still won’t let me see him, but I’ve heard he’s freaking out, thinking his best friend has left,” he seethes, stress having stripped him from all of his usual cheery self. ”Get dressed right now. I’m not angry, I just— okay, I’m angry! But just get up and get ready! Five freaking hours! I’m gonna pass out…. scared the shit outta me… I…”

Yoongi watches Hoseok mumble nonsense for a good while, letting him calm down. It’s a little embarrassing to be outed the moment he’s jumped into bed with Taehyung again, but his problems shouldn’t be at the forefront today. He does realize that he’s being a shitty best man.

”I’m your worst man… aren’t I? I’m sorry,” Yoongi worries, patting Hoseok’s shoulder and interrupting his rambling.

”No, no, no… no… without you, I’d still be doubting myself— and…”

”…Are you crying?” Yoongi can’t help smirking. He’s a hilarious mess right now. The big show is gonna be great.

”No! Get dressed,” Hoseok sobs, shoving at his naked chest.

”Alright, alright…”

•

Jimin takes a breath like he wants to suck in all the air in the room. Taehyung wets his lips, drops his head down, and waits for the scolding. But he just sighs exhasperatedly and flails about the room.

”I have a message from your future husband,” Yoongi interrupts, scratching behind his ear carelessly. It’s like he’s suddenly gotten way comfortable with everything. Taehyung fights the urge to smile when he looks over to see him like that. ”He says: well, you did want them to bang.”

”Get out!” Jimin’s shrillest voice insists, aiming a high kick at Yoongi and missing on purpose. He’s crying and laughing at the same time when he drops back down.

”Yes, sir,” he smiles, then walks off and closes the big doors behind himself.

Taehyung tries to act like an adult, but he does end up watching Yoongi go. Silence washes over the room after that, and Taehyung only has to give Jimin a little once-over before he knows to go and lock the door for privacy. He’s not even wearing his suit yet, as if he isn’t sure it’s going to happen today. Bare feet and chest, jeans. He looks ready to explode, a stark contrast to the bright and calmly decorated room.

”I would have cancelled,” Jimin grumbles, stomping up to him.

”Sorry,” Taehyung offers, in a very practiced way. Right now, Jimin is right, no matter what he says.

”I thought you went missing, or worse— decided to leave!”

”Very sorry,” he adds in his best elvis impersonation.

”You weren’t in your room, or behind the shed, where, yes, I know you still smoke! I’ve told you before not to, you know— and— and then I looked everywhere, and I was damn near about to kill the next person to come in here and tell me that you still haven’t shown up,” he rants loudly, and each time he makes a point, he pokes Taehyung’s chest so hard it might bruise. ”I nearly had a heart attack! And for what? Hate sex?! Some fun— if you were going to do that, you could have done it days ago!”

”It was make up sex,” he corrects, dismissing all the other points, putting his hands in the pockets of his pleated slacks.

”…What?”

”I wanted today to be perfect for you, so I decided to go and talk things out,” Taehyung explains, bouncing on the balls of his feet restlessly. ”Just happened to end up differently than I thought… We lost track of time.”

”…Well… if you put it like that… I didn’t know,” Jimin pouts, crossing his arms.

”Now you know.”

”Explain, stupid.”

”It’s a long story…” Taehyung ponders, admiring the flower arrangements in the room with his long fingers.

”We still have time,” Jimin points out, then looks at his wristwatch as if he’s not sure. He then confirms, ”We have time.”

”Okay.” He lets Jimin grab his elbow and pull him towards one of the couches in the large room with big windows, and sits down when asked to.

”…You know, you haven’t given me a good hug all week,” Jimin throws in, in the middle of other demands.

Taehyung smiles, all teeth, and pulls him in without question. It’s a huge comfort, to hold him just like this. His big, small friend, who is getting married today. What an adult. Who’d have known? For now, everything is nothing but peace. Maybe he doesn’t know what will happen once it’s all over, but for now, peace.

”Okay. I’ll tell you all about the man who took my virginity… ”

”Not in detail, please,” Jimin immediately grunts, pinching his nose in disgust.

”In great detail,” Taehyung snickers. When Jimin’s eyes threaten his whole existense, he backtracks. ”Okay, okay! So… I met Yoongi a long time ago, before I even knew you…”

•

”Do I look okay?” Hoseok asks for maybe the hundreth time, trying to pinch his collar right, then fixing his hair.

Namjoon rolls his eyes with a fond smile on his way out of the room. Yoongi taps the floor with his shiny shoe. It feels incredibly strange to wear shoes that are stiff the way these are. To be so proper.

”You look like a nerd,” he coughs honestly, just to lighten the tense mood. Hoseok punches his side lightly.

The rumble of the crowd is scary today, he understands why Hoseok is acting up. He peeks outside to see everyone mingling around in the set garden, finding their seats on the neat rows of benches. His eyes search for maybe two seconds before they find Taehyung in the center of attention, making sure the seating goes smoothly. It’s almost annoying, how he’s in his element, while Yoongi is an absolutely useless friend.

”Hyung… am I ready for this?” his best friend whines, gripping the mirror and pressing his nose to the shiny surface.

”You’re ready,” Yoongi nods, turning back to watch the people outside. ”Your mom’s coming.”

”Oh my god…”

”Calm down,” he smirks, letting go of the door and walking over to him, massaging his back. ”You got this. Don’t freak out now.”

”I haven’t seen him for two days!”

”You will now! And he’s gonna smile as soon as you see each other,” Yoongi mumbles, lowering the volume of his voice when the door swings open again. He lets go of his best friend to let his mother shower him with kisses and encouragement.

•

A soft ballad. The rustling of leaves. Everyone is quiet when the grooms say their vows, that are worded with so much care even a mother’s love couldn’t compare to the letters in their shaking hands. Taehyung has his own clasped politely, watching eyes full of love look at each other as if there’s nobody else in the big and lustrous garden.

He himself is overcome by emotion, and breathes through his teeth to avoid crying too much. What’s worse, Yoongi is standing almost straight in front of him, on the other side of the grooms. All week, he’s had so many thoughts about him. None of them were like the one that hits him as their best friends get married.

How much can you miss someone before you keel over in misery? It’s so good, the way they met again like this and talked it out. They have the golden opportunity to apologize, make friends and say goodbye. A clean, perfect closure. It would be just right like that.

Instead, however, he finds himself with wet cheeks at his best friend’s wedding. This moment can feel free to last for a lifetime. Can’t they pause it right here? He doesn’t want closure. Not anymore. Not ever.

He’s so beautiful, pale skin and black hair. There’s a stiff coolness about him that makes him look almost ethereal in the sunlit surroundings. Yoongi’s big eyes are wet too, but he’s fully focused on what’s going down. Taehyung stares, because he’s sure nobody is looking at him right now, even if he’s by the podium.

His lips curl in tightly when Yoongi’s eyes meet his. Taehyung’s stomach churns not only because he doesn't look away quickly, but because he smiles softly. That gaze falls down, then picks up again. Yoongi manages to return to looking serious, turning his attention to the actual happening. Taehyung tries to get his act together, too.

•

They’re at the back of the crowd when the grooms have walked down the aisle and back, inviting everyone inside for food and drinks. Yoongi takes this golden opportunity to approach Taehyung again. His first impulse is to look elsewhere as he wraps an arm around his shoulders and begins to wipe his damp cheeks with his sleeve.

”Don’t be a baby.”

”I’m not a baby,” Taehyung hiccups, grabbing his forearm and rubbing into his suit without the slightest remorse.

”Sure,” he nods, pursing his lips.

The crowd is busy crying, finding their placement, talking, overbearing the married couple. Yoongi feels an itch in his palm and uses his leverage on Taehyung’s shoulder to guide him in to one of the side rooms. It’s a dark and cold cleaning closet, and Yoongi instantly feels more at home.

”What are you—”

There’s a surge of emotion. As soon as Taehyung stared him down during the ceremony, he felt it. He lifts himself up on a washing machine and grabs Taehyung’s cheeks so he has to follow all the way in to meet his lips. It feels nice to be taller than him again. Even if Taehyung has grown into twice the man he is physically, he is still a baby. That kind of magic balance is something money can’t buy.

He moans as if he hates it and loves it at the same time, but his hands cling honestly to Yoongi’s suit jacket. They have to cut this as short as possible, so Yoongi keeps his hands above the neckline. Taehyung isn’t as smart, fingers slowly slipping, losing strength. He bends to every touch he’s given, and Yoongi dares slip a hand under his collar. He momentarily forgets to breathe. If bliss was a flavor, Taehyung would be it.

•

”There you are,” Jimin complains, although with a majorly less stressed tone than the rest of the week. He seems pleased now, gesturing to their seats. Taehyung tries not to feel disappointed that he has to sit two people away from Yoongi. ”Can’t you do me the favor and not smoke until at least midnight? Just that.”

Taehyung lifts his brows and opens his eyes wider when he sits down. Luckily, Jimin doesn’t see it. If he did, he’d understand that they weren’t out smoking.

”We were just comparing speeches,” Yoongi shrugs, perfect poker face.

Jungkook begins to cough loudly, clearly disbelieving. His sudden outburst causes Jimin’s mother to jump and curse him out. Yoongi saves the moment by getting up and giving his speech. It’s terribly well-written, and Hoseok naturally cries. Taehyung doesn’t expect to cry, too, but he does, and tries not to let his voice crack too much as he gives his own. It’s a little surreal, how his best friend is married.

Happily. So Taehyung screws the script and goes with every cliché in the book, reciting old memories that Jimin’s relatives probably don’t need to know. Jimin smiles, anyway. It’s fine. It’s funny.

•

It’s late. The garden is dark. Past midnight, so cigarettes are once again allowed. They leave the dance party together, more than clearly buzzed. Taehyung holds his hand, and Yoongi backs him up against the shed. They said they went to smoke, but… is that really all that important? He can’t focus. Too many emotions for one day.

The music can still be heard.

The hug becomes a slow dance. His back leaves the wall. Steps out of uncomfortable shoes to put his feet in the grass. Yoongi seems to think it a wonderful idea and follows suit. For once during this week, they know nobody will be looking for them. It’s just a quiet calm.

He hugs Yoongi’s neck and busies his mouth too keep him from talking. At any time now, he’ll start saying goodbye. That’s just not acceptable. They slow dance past the aisle built up in the garden. Anytime Yoongi tries to speak, he gets a kiss. After five kisses, he figures out he’s not allowed to talk. Just taste the wine on Taehyung’s tongue.

Not a soul notices them. Isn’t it fine? Taking this time. The day isn’t about them, but Jimin and Hoseok are so drunk and getting so much attention. They did so much already. Isn’t it okay to steal a dance alone before they have to part again? This time on good terms, but it’s still hard to face.

”I’m dizzy,” Yoongi says, too quickly for him to interrupt.

They stumble down on the front row of white chairs, decorated with pink roses and frilly fabric. If Yoongi got married, would he decorate like this? Definitely not. Taehyung digs in his pocket for his packet of cigarettes. To be frank, it’s more Yoongi’s style to just sign the papers and go on a honeymoon without telling anyone. Right?

”Oh.”

”What?”

”I’m out.”

Yoongi peeks into the packet. Sure is empty. He searches for his own. Turns out to be the same. His lips pout. Taehyung wants to kiss them.

”…guess it slipped my mind, too,” he says, his voice quite hoarse from yelling congratulations and excitement all night. ”We’re not too different, are we?”

”Twins,” Taehyung snorts, crossing his arms and leaning back. He looks up at the stars, which are way more visible in the countryside. Although it has nothing on the kind of countries that boast northern lights. His mind blanks out as his mouth runs. ”Hyung. If you got married, would you want a big, fancy wedding, like this?”

It takes a moment for him to reply. Taehyung hears him think. ”Not really. But I’d want it to be romantic.”

He tilts his head to the side and watches his jawline tighten. ”Really?”

Yoongi’s eyes trail over to him. ”Of course. Why? You think I wouldn’t want that?”

”No.” Taehyung purses his lips and sits up straighter. The alcohol makes the straight part a little difficult. ”I guess… I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

”Guess you don’t.”

He wears a smile as he says it, though. It’s the same as ever. Such a great smile. A breeze passes by them. Carrying unspoken words, half-sentences, old ideas. Taehyung remembers a lot of things all at once. Tears threaten him again. He wants to ask, but he can’t get his mouth to work right. Yoongi holds his hand and saves him.

”Let’s go,” he whispers.

”Where?”

”You forgot your shirt in my room, remember?”

”No I didn’t,” Taehyung denies honestly.

”You did,” Yoongi firmly disagrees, trying to convey the hidden meaning with his eyes.

”…Ah.”

•

The mood on the trip back is totally different from the way there. They’re still in Hoseok’s car, but since the now married couple took a cab to the nearest airport, he has the responsibility to take care of it for a week. Instead of the back seat, Taehyung is in the passenger seat next to him, naked feet up on the dashboard. He’s humming along to the radio and holds his hand out of the open window.

Namjoon is sleeping in the back, ridden with a hangover. Jin left without him, apparenty. Maybe it was more a tongue-in-cheek joke, but Namjoon seemed to be hurt for real.

Well. None of his business. He steals glances at Taehyung. Each time, Taehyung meets his eyes and smiles. It’s a curved kind of smile. Hiding away slightly. They both know it’s time to say goodbye. Again. Properly this time. To have closure.

So they don’t talk in the car, trying to avoid it for as long as possible. At least, he hopes Taehyung wouldn’t want to part, too. It’s that same issue. He doesn’t have the heart to ask.

The closer they get to the destination, the tenser the air feels. Yoongi begins to make wrong turns on purpose. Just to watch him for a little bit longer. The detours turn into shortcuts, it seems, because all of a sudden, the hotel is right there. Taehyung puts his shoes on, gets out, and grabs his stuff from the trunk. Yoongi holds the steering wheel so hard he gets cramps.

Holding the door open, double checking so he didn’t leave anything, Taehyung bites on his lower lip. Yoongi stares at the hickey he left on his long neck.

”I… guess this is goodbye,” his low voice ponders. A necklace dangles out of his collar, glimmering in the sunlight.

”I guess so,” Yoongi’s dry voice struggles.

What’s that loud hammering?

Oh. His heart. Up in his throat.

He tries to swallow it down. Get a new grip on the wheel.

”Let me know when you’re around,” he tries.

”Ah– um, of course,” Taehyung shyly agrees, curling up his fingers hanging on top of the open door. ”I’ll… send you pictures.”

”Right.” He’s leaving for Morocco. It sounds cool. Wild. Cozy. Whatever. Yoongi is very happy for him.

”Bye, hyung.”

”Have… a… safe trip.”

It’s near impossible to say, when his arms still remember how it feels to hold him.

”Thank you.”

This time, his smile tears at his heart. Absolutely rips it apart. Ruthlessly. Violently. He swallows down air when the door closes. Blinks his wet eyes. Feels as if someone just dropped a bucket of ice water on him. Wishes someone actually would. The air in the car is stuffy and sweaty.

”Go chase him, dumbass.”

What?

Yoongi turns to find Namjoon awake, watching him with furrowed brows. He’s looks endlessly annoyed. Widens his eyes and lifts his eyesbrows.

”Go,” he orders, kicking at his seat.

Yoongi begins to scramble with his belt. He almost falls out of the car. His weak legs carry him in a pretty steady pace. He sprints and thanks the few years of basketball he did in high school. He’s not dressed for a hotel lobby, but he doesn’t care. Every bothered person is invisible to him. As soon as he has Taehyung in his sights, he’s blind to his periphery.

”Taehyung-ah!”

His shock is beautiful. Yoongi stops running a few feet away from him, catching his bated breath. Taehyung’s luggage slips out of his fingers.

”Tae–”

”Yeah?” he interrupts, face twisted honestly. Nothing like those fake smiles he was sporting just now.

”Aren’t you curious? We just–… found each other… again. We could–… see where it goes–”

Taehyung seems to chew on his cheeks, trying to hold back. Yoongi still can’t keep his breath in check, stepping closer.

”What… I’m trying to say is– I guess… uh… It’s pretty selfish, but, um…”

Their toes meet.

”Stay.”

Taehyung’s face gives up. The tears he was biting back are rolling down his cheeks.

”Of course! Stupid. You– scared me, back there.”

”Sorry.”

He can finally breathe right. Taehyung embraces him like he’s precious, crying like the kid with the red rain boots he used to know. He gets to fist his hands into the back of his linen shirt and bury his nose in his shoulder. A closed door opens. His chest swells with pride, for once, as he gets to hug the man he loves close. The man he never stopped loving. He can't imagine he ever will. Someday, maybe, but not today. Taehyung laughs desperately into his neck. Lifts him up. He wraps his legs around his waist and hears personell politely trying to kick them out. Taehyung kisses him without a care in the world.

He can't wait for him to mess up his life again. Excite and annoy him. Yoongi would still let him carry him to the end of the world. (Or just Hong Kong). Break all social norms. He doesn't care. As long as he stays.