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the mornings come like thick fog draped over wet, moist gradients of the sleep muddled city. the light drips through the slow heavy mist trying to hold together the last reminicients of night. like a dear beloved not letting herself part. there's something serene about dawns which makes them peaceful for people, the life, the living and the in between. peacefulness in taehyung's opinion, is accompanied by a certain lack of bustling of life. peacefulness, comes with a price of being lonely.
the bed dips and doesn't crack as much as he fears. feeling like an outsider in his own dorm feels weird yet familiar. he's been doing this for years, come dawns, come a time he's lonely, a time he's distressed, a time where he wants to float away, or simply belong. it's the last explanation he fears the most.
to belong. to someone. to a someone.
he's curled up by the corner, wriggling under a corner of the blanket, hoping not to wake someone. the steady rise and fall of this someone's chest over the soft blanket is calming so taehyung likes to watch. he reckons by the half covered puffy eyes and cheeks that jimin came to bed only hours ago. a night owl up there with jungkook.
at least they have each other to … not feel lonely.
there's a good three arm length space between jimin and him. right between them. the bed is huge. not like taehyung wanted a lot of room, just a little bit to fit in there beside him. but the space? oh he wants to cross, so bad, with every fibre of his body. and be honest for a quiet quiet moment. to let himself acknowledge and feel the drag he's been feeling for years and lifetimes.
a quiet moment of honesty is all he wants, where he lets himself just nestle in that broad neck and murmurs the chipped bits of ebbed way truths stained with his tears. a few words of love maybe. a few hushed promises maybe. and a hopeful leap into hopelessness.
but taehyung loves very quietly. kind of like the ocean.
so. he doesn't cross, and he doesn't hug the lithe warm body and he doesn't nose into the soft grey locks. he doesn't search for the singular tiny black spot on the back of jimin's neck and press a kiss like he's always wanted to. all that space between them and taehyung keeps lying to himself. and he thinks about friendship, bond, a bucket list, a stupid love, fear, rejection and loneliness.
‘this is enough... i get to have this. . . I'm okay . . . i get to see you’
that's why he's here, in the dark of a sleepy morning seeking comfort and assurance and a little love.
cause he so stupidly awake and he wanted to see jimin.
“tae?”
“yeah?”
“what are you doing here so early?”
“... nothing”
“what are you doing- all the way over there i can't see you”
“......”
“taehyung, come here.”
“i can?”
“yes you can now hurry up”
one way or the other jimin somehow meets him halfway. that's how it's always been. and the last string of hope taehyung has clung to so dearly. he just wants to tell the truth… for once. he thinks as he climbs hesitantly to the space beside jimin. as soon as he's there jimin pulls him right on top his chest, an arm behind his head, taking all the weight in, securely locking him in one arm. as he lies there listening to beats and rhythm of jimin's heart, his own tugs tugs tugs away.
“you know … when you were smaller i still had trouble doing this with one arm”, there's a brief chuckle and rasped soft voice from above.
taehyung swallows a lump, “i was never small, you were just malnourished”
“i will kick you out of this bed”, jimin says, all the while pressing him more tightly into his chest, eyes closed, a hint of smile on the corners of his full lips.
taehyung's stupid heart hammers and gushes all the truths, ‘oh you love him so much’
“tae, are you okay?”
“hey jimin, what if we were to kiss right now”
“mmm”, jimin seems to contemplate as much half awake, “we haven't brushed our teeth”
“understandable.”
jimin laughs on air, tries to crack open an eye, they're too puffy and taehyung wants lean in and kiss, and think about all the repercussions later and all that comes with it. they have to get up in 15 minutes and taehyung counts the seconds in heartbeats, his on top of jimin's. catches at the fleeting moments escaping through his fingers, the drops of melted love slipping away to miss them later, tucked into the quietest corner of his heart.
five years he's been doing it. considers doing it for the rest of his life and feels the walls close up. thinks about doing this even when he's holding somebody else's hands because society told him to and thinks about jimin underneath him.
it's like a never ending maze he willingly entered.
they get up eventually. face puffed up, hair sticking into abstract direction on heads. he doesn't fix them. instead he goes to jimin, asks about his eyes. they're fine, he's assured and he hangs about in the closet. picks out a jumper jacket big enough to keep jimin warm. he's pulling on a chanel shirt over his head, toned lean muscles covered up under the white stretchy fabric.
“stay warm”, he says, leaves the jacket on jimin's lap.
“uhh, this one?” , jimin asks.
“yeah”.
five years he's been doing it. picking out outfits for his best friend, putting together pieces that look good on him. scraping off the pieces of his heart off the floor when jimin walks away from him wearing them and looking like a dream. a dream he's been dreaming for five years.
what would happen. if he were to snitch on his heart. he wonders. the worst case he's gonna be sat down and told that he's gonna remain a friend and nothing more. forever. and then things will never go back to they way they used to. jimin is kind, so kind, so maybe he'll let him down easy, so that it doesn't hurt, so that when taehyung patches up his love it hurts less. but that hollow taehyung dug with his own hands, will always stay between them.
the drive to airport is the last bits of silence he gets blessed with.
unless jungkook.
“hyung you were staring again”
“yeah. sorry”
“urgh, that's not what i meant” “you and i had a deal, you were gonna tell him this winter”
“yeah- i was”. and nothing. something pricks somewhere. he doesn't pay attention.
jungkook softens, “hyung, he'll understand- it's jiminie hyung”
yeah, isn't it? park fucking jimin who went into the toilet to hold him. and cry. every single time. fuck him honestly. stupid shit tugging his heart away like that. so impossible to hide. like he snatches it and claims as it his own and smiles while he does. taehyung doesn't even mind. like he looks for the ache every time he holds those small hands. who even hurts like this?
taehyung has been. for five years.
the walk to immigration is flashed with lights, countless screams and spiked with latent anxiety.
he told jimin to stay warm. for fuck's sake park, stay fucking warm, it's the least taehyung can manage to do for his friend, the bare minimum he's allowed and that makes him feel useful (wanted). and he sees jimin struggling to pull the jacket closer, already hanging half off of his shoulder. he sees lean white muscles pulled taut with effort and the tiniest black beauty mark right into the center of his neck. the mole he traced for an eternity. the skin he yearned for in broad daylight and in stale dark. the long loose grey locks covering his still puffy eyes, the fashioned specs. and his mouth is downward with tiredness. he glows like the sun veiled by thin clouds and melted moonlights. like the sharp advancing claws around can't ever touch him. gliding through the sea of people getting further and further away from taehyung.
jimin is getting away.
suddenly he wants to run and reach and reach and never let go.
taehyung thinks about jungkook. and a brave statement ‘hyung, it's jimin. what's the worst can happen’
there are times like these where he gets a liquid shot of desperation and he's breathless. the firing bits of determination coursing through his blood vessels and the daring urge to just. let go.
he runs, bloated faces, red eyes and faded pink hair in the air. his heart on his sweater pawed sleeves. faster and faster till he can reach and walk. right beside him. take one breath take two, he has to go to jimin.
yoongi makes a weird face when he tells him, “yeah I'm sitting here.” and then he sees him waddle away to the seat beside namjoon, blowing hoseok a raspberry.
he sits down and fumbles with seat belts. his hands keep shaking. jimin's taking his earbuds out, his eyes widened a bit, a playful smile tugging at the plush lips.
“what, couldn't stay away from me?”
“i couldn't”. taehyung is breathless.
“need a hand to hold?”
“i do, actually”.
the look on his face might be close to bewilderment and hopeful and scared. jimin pauses for a while. just stares at him. almond eyes full of affection. everything stills.
“need a kiss too?”
the stewardess begins the taking off announcement.
“i brushed my teeth really well”. taehyung's head is spinning.
jimin laughs that laugh, the one's been ringing inside his head for five years.
“i tried a new mouthwash too”, his blood is too loud.
the plane is gaining speed on the runway, turbines whirring, the muted rumbles all around. taehyung's heart running at the speed of the sun.
“you're really weird”, jimin's leaning in.
“yeah? don't you like me for that?” , taehyung breathes, centimeters away from his dream.
the plane jerks off the ground, their stomachs tugging.
taehyung's lips meet jimin's on a soaring plane, under 8 am sun peeking through the windows and his heads in clouds, hearts on sleeves, held by jimin.
for once taehyung looks forward to landing.