Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yoongi only remembers that Taehyung had been out when he appears in the doorway. The tucked in blouse and high-waisted jeans give Taehyung the usual long-legged look. A blush has settled high on his cheekbones, and the dusting of colour pairs well with the now almost mint green of his hair. 

The room feels brighter with his presence, even brighter when a few happy sounding giggles leave his lips. Yoongi smiles lazily at this, slides down the couch a bit more to push his bare feet against the hardwood floor. He feels good, doesn’t feel bad that he’d momentarily forgotten there’d been one of seven missing. It’s just part of their thing, he supposes. They had grown so used to one another that being with one member felt like being with all other five all at once. And in cases like these, where only one was missing in action, it was a phantom limb-like sensation. 

“Bogum’s here!” 

That’s all they hear from Taehyung before he’s out of the room. As promised, Bogum trails in a moment or two later. As handsome as ever, Yoongi notes. But he can’t help but to glance at the hallway where Taehyung had vanished, already missing the sight of him. He’s sure it’s a second’s moment glance, but he only notices Bogum’s bow when Jimin — who is obstructing part of the view of the hallway’s doorway — replies with a bow of his own. He’s quick to catch himself, bows along with the other members, even scoots closer to Jimin to invite Bogum to take the seat next to him. 

“I’m on my way out. I just think Taehyung’s mentioned something he brought back from Fukuoka.” 

Another glance towards the doorway. So, Taehyung would be returning soon with a present. Maybe he’d settle down to watch the film with them once Bogum was on his way out. 

Yoongi realizes the screen has gone dark at the same moment Namjoon does, just as the other tells Bogum, “Feel free to stay longer. We were just watching… oh, I guess we weren’t watching much of anything anymore!” 

Jungkook, the lone member on the armchair, barely glances up from his phone as he adds, “Yeah, we’ve been talking for like two hours now. You hadn’t realized?” 

Seokjin slings an arm around Namjoon’s shoulders and Hoseok falls closer to him as he melts into cheerful laughter, where the three are seated on the longer part of the l-shaped sofa. Yoongi sinks even further, rubs his thumb against the fabric of the sofa as he relaxes. It hadn’t seemed like two hours to him either, rather it had felt like nothing. They’re still young, he knows so. But he’s always been impressed by how long they could go simply reminiscing with one another as if they were friends who had been separated for dozens of years, instead of only part of the day. 

“Ah, must be nice,” Bogum comments, his posture straight enough to match Seokjin’s. 

“How about you, did you take Taehyung out for drinks? He seemed… a little tipsy?” 

Jimin’s leaning over Yoongi, as if to establish overly serious eye contact with Bogum. Truth be told, Yoongi had thought the same of Taehyung. The flush had either been due to inebriation, or the cold February night air. His guess though had been that they hadn’t walked home, but had had a chauffeur help out. Whose, he’s not sure. 

“Just dinner. He said he’s been discovering wine more and more lately. So we had a couple of glasses.” 

“He has mentioned that. He’s lucky we have our resident oenophile he can always turn to.”

Yoongi thinks Namjoon uses the word much too often, thinks the other might be secretly proud of knowing the exact word for it. Despite this, Hoseok is quick to slur out, “What’s that again?” 

Graciously, Yoongi puts his hand up and wiggles his fingers. 

“That would be me. A wine amateur, I guess. But, I’m not very complicated. I’ll drink any wine. Taehyung’s taste is a little more expensive,” he elaborates, nodding at Hoseok and then turning his focus to Bogum. 

He thinks it’s fitting of Taehyung. The younger always seems to be attracted to the luxurious things, to the glitz and glamour of life. 

“Right, he picked the top of the wine list, the most expensive bottle,” Bogum recalls, smiling good-naturedly. 

The chatter comes naturally after that, the conversation flowing comfortably. Yoongi doesn’t think it’s anything like when it’s just them, but it’s refreshing to have this different kind of dynamic with others outside of the group. Bogum tells them how he’d closely followed the Grammy coverage earlier in the month, and they retell every small tidbit and story that comes to mind. Bogum in return brings up this or that fact that Taehyung had brought up, and there’s always someone more than willing to specify, correct, or extend on the matter. 

Yoongi is mostly silent, feels tired and happy, and is looking forward to slipping into bed. He smiles fondly when Jimin reaches over him to pat Bogum’s knee and to thank him for always looking out for their Taehyung. Still, he picks up on Bogum’s solemn tone when he speaks next. 

“And I’m really grateful Taehyung has all of you. He receives so much love from the fans and all, but, you know. It’s important that he has people around him who love him fully. As he really is.” 

It’s an odd choice of wording. And Yoongi does open his mouth, does think of saying something, but doesn’t come up with much worth saying. Thankfully, it seems he’s not the only one uncomfortable with the sudden declaration. 

“What do you mean though,” Hoseok questions, “I feel like Taehyung is kind of the best at being himself for the cameras and fans. I don’t think he can really turn it off!” 

Hoseok’s laughter starts off joyous, but that peters out with the growing confusion on Bogum’s face. 

“Right. I just meant he can’t be all of himself. And I’m glad he can be with you.” 

Seokjin rubs a hand over his face, smiles when he pulls it away. But Yoongi recognizes the slight flicker of confused worry in his eyes, feels it reflected in his own. 

“This isn’t about growing out his moustache, is it? I still can’t believe he had me post that picture for his birthday!” 

Bogum’s face doesn’t brighten, and Yoongi guesses he must not know which post Seokjin is referring to. Yoongi knows, still remembers how hilarious it had been to watch Seokjin take a call from a member of management, who had readied themselves to give him the scolding of the century. Only to find out Seokjin had posted under Taehyung’s sincere request. 

“No?” Bogum scratches at the back of his neck, as if embarrassed that he has to spell out his message. “It was about Taehyung being gay. Not exactly something he can be honest with fans about.” 

Yoongi’s feet feel kind of sweaty now over the hardwood floor. The leather of the couch too feels a little warm under the palms of his hands. He pulls a hand away, tugs at the collar of his loose shirt distractedly. He can’t seem to pick up on the varying reactions across the living room, but his focus is still drawn to Jungkook. The youngest member is quick to put his phone face down over the armrest and to argue with Bogum. 

“Taehyung isn’t gay.” 

The retort may be simple, but Yoongi is fairly certain that it’s the thought they’d all unanimously had in response to Bogum’s words. 

“No, Taehyung is definitely gay…?” 

Bogum’s voice lilts, but Yoongi can tell it’s not from uncertainty. Well, maybe, only uncertainty as to why the whole room isn’t on the same page as him yet. But definitely not uncertainty for the words he’d chosen. 

Yoongi is too stunned to react much to Taehyung’s thundering steps down the hallway. He only gives him a furtive glance when he brandishes out a dark-coloured package towards Bogum. Yoongi guesses it’s a luxurious gift, probably from an haute couture brand, but he’s not that interested in knowing more. He’s more interested in Taehyung’s rigid posture and stern expression. No one speaks. Everyone knows Taehyung has heard the last exchanged sentences. And everyone is just on edge enough to whip their heads towards Taehyung, as if called — even Jungkook — when Taehyung addresses Bogum with “Hyung.” 

“Tae.” The gaze Bogum settles on Taehyung is wide-eyed and guilty. He’s understood the obvious misstep. 

“Let’s go, we both have schedules tomorrow. Don’t want you to get to bed too late.” 

Taehyung’s tone is loaded, but Yoongi has a hard time theorizing on what that may mean for Bogum. He’s thankful that the silence extends much beyond the pair’s disappearance towards the front door.

Yoongi thinks of the way Taehyung will sneak into his studio at odd hours of the night, and nap away on the couch while Yoongi keeps at it. Thinks of the sleepy smiles Taehyung gives him when they share a company car — both of them making a habit of catching up on sleep during transport time. Thinks of the way Taehyung will always save a bite or two on his plate for Yoongi, as long as he’s nearby. 

Then, Yoongi thinks some more. Thinks of how he’d always longed to curl up on his studio couch alongside Taehyung, to press fully against him and to fall asleep just like that. Thinks of how much he’s pictured himself kissing the sleepy smiles off of Taehyung’s lips in those early mornings or late nights in the company car. Thinks of how he’d dreamt of getting a taste of Taehyung’s dish directly from his mouth instead whenever he’s turned down the remaining portion that Taehyung had saved for him. 

Simply, he thinks of the absurd torch he’s been carrying for Taehyung. Absurd in the way that longing for Taehyung was as fruitful as a young child claiming their everlasting love for their teacher. It was cute, and maybe it was pure, but it wasn’t leading to anything. Just as he’d cutely watched over Taehyung and had felt himself fall sillily more and more for the other’s charms, but had always stayed firm in his belief that it wasn’t ever going anywhere. 

The torch he carried felt blue now, too powerful and wild to maintain properly. If Taehyung were gay, then… 

The room is frozen in an uncomfortable silence as both Taehyung and Bogum’s voices drift back to them. Room too quiet, and doorway too close for them to avoid hearing them word for word. 

“Taehyung, I’m so sorry. Last time we saw Seojoon and Hyungsik, they both knew. So, I just thought…” 

By his side, Jimin stiffens. Yoongi tries to crush the flame within him. Tries not to think of what it means that Taehyung’s social circle — outside of them — knows an intimate part of Taehyung that he hasn’t shown them . 

He’s scared Jimin will turn to stone when Bogum adds, “You told me years ago. I really thought they knew.” 

“Hyung, please just go for now. I’ll call soon.” 

Taehyung’s pained words and the slam of the front door are the only sounds to preface Taehyung’s return. Taehyung, who stops dramatically before them, and seems to fight with himself before speaking. Even as he speaks, the fight hardly seems over. 

“Please forgive Bogum. I don’t know what’s with him lately. It’s just like, tasteless joke after tasteless joke. This one wasn’t funny at all, but yeah.” 

Maybe Taehyung’s tone is even, but he’s quick to sigh in irritation and to roll his eyes when his words fail to shatter the silence. The silence, in fact, only shatters once the door leading to Taehyung’s room is shut with a loud echoing slam. 

Yoongi doesn’t really know what Taehyung is thinking or feeling. Was he about to march back in to explain, or was he going to brush off the event? Was he irritated that Bogum had outed him, or angry that they had grown so silent in response? He doesn’t have much energy or time to theorize on that; because when every member leans in to discuss it, the investigation is turned on him seamlessly. 

“You knew?” Namjoon asks him heavily. 

And no one seems surprised with the line of questioning. Everyone turns curious eyes towards Yoongi naturally. It takes a moment or two for Yoongi to remember why the assumption would be made. And when he gets it, he gets it . And the torch within him hisses as if a bucket of ice water has been tipped over it. 

Right. Yoongi was the obvious, number one, person Taehyung could have turned to had he been struggling with his sexuality, or how to live with it at the same time as super stardom. Then, he hadn’t turned to his circle of friends for help, had he? If Bogum had known, and had known without a doubt , then… 

Yoongi thinks back on years ago, when Taehyung had gone on a weekend vacation with Bogum to Jeju Island. When he had video-called the group, it had been obvious that the place the pair had rented had been a one-bedroom apartment. And maybe that hadn’t been damning in itself, but the montage Bogum had shared of their weekend afterwards had been awfully romantic. 

Yoongi thinks back on most recently, on the tweet Bogum had sent out for Taehyung’s birthday. The caption had read that Taehyung had been born to be loved. Yoongi had liked it. Had felt extremely fond when Taehyung had shown him that the BT21 Twitter account had adopted the same caption an hour or so later. It had felt right for Taehyung’s person. Yoongi agreed, Taehyung was born to be loved. He was happy if others could see it, too. But now, the words felt revealing, tasted differently. 

Born to be loved. But how? The way Yoongi longs for Taehyung? Fruitlessly, with no expectation of his feelings being one day noticed, or even recognized, certainly not returned. The way Yoongi thinks the masses are bound to love Taehyung? Fully, but generously and without the shadow of a promise to be anything but one in an ocean of nameless others. Aimlessly, just as Yoongi has preserved and protected his flame up until now. But , Yoongi thinks to himself with a shock of clarity, not in the same way that Bogum loves Taehyung perhaps. 

If Taehyung hadn’t been looking for understanding when speaking of his sexuality, it stands to reason now that Bogum knew of it doubtlessly for another reason. Maybe, because Taehyung and Bogum were or are something of an item.

He answers Namjoon all the same, desperate to put his mind elsewhere than the now clear picture of Taehyung already fallen for someone, and Yoongi’s name never having been in consideration. He’d never been in the running, regardless of Taehyung’s sexual orientation.

“I didn’t know. Though if he wanted to talk to someone who keeps their sexual identity hidden while being a global star, it’s pretty damn obvious that he should have come to me.” His fingers clench and unclench, he wishes there was something he could get his hands on, just to put force into something, anything. “Or, when is Halsey flying in? Maybe he wants to talk to someone who is a global star and is out. And we’ll be the last ones to know when he comes out!” 

His hands finally settle, wrap around his upper arms to squeeze as hard as he can without wincing. He’s redirecting, but he’s not sure how obvious it is. It shouldn’t be obvious, he knows this is what he’s expected to be upset over: Taehyung putting them in last place. It’s not like anyone is going to guess he’s upset Taehyung might have given his heart to Bogum. 

As for Halsey, he had been excited to perform with another bisexual artist, not that he’d ever be at liberty to communicate that. But, apparently, he’d been performing with another queer person this whole time, unknowingly. Maybe his tone is a little dramatic, a little mean, but he feels a little cheated. Both on a personal level with the sudden realization that there was a whole aspect of his life he could have been sharing more freely with Taehyung, and on an even more personal level where the person he’d yearned for secretly, silently, hopelessly, had freely sought out what his own heart desired — and it hadn’t been Yoongi. He feels slightly vindicated when Jimin pipes up with the same offended tone. 

“Sounds about right. You guys heard that, right? His acting friends know about it.” Yoongi watches passively as Jimin’s face grows red, cheeks puffed out and lips pursed. “Every time we meet his friends, here we are stupidly feeling like he’s our little brother. But, really, they all know more about Taehyung than we do.” 

Yoongi feels too burnt, too scorched from the inside-out to help keep the discussion from escalating. Listlessly, he wishes Taehyung could have told them. Maybe not about his sexuality, not if he hadn’t felt any need to confide in them. But, at least when he had settled on a romantic partner. He wishes he had known, so that he could have reasonably and calmly blown out the torch. Because now, it feels painful and uncertain. As if he had been played, though he knows he hasn’t. 

He almost feels satisfied when Seokjin speaks, and looks as indignantly displeased as both he and Jimin were, though for a much different reason. 

“He shouldn’t even be going around spreading this, anyway . I don’t see how he could have handled this any more irresponsibly.” 

Yoongi’s satisfaction lessens when no one steps in to defend Taehyung’s actions. It might have hurt to learn Taehyung had hidden important things from them, but it felt a little more ruthless to judge his character for opening up to someone . But, who would deny the truth behind Seokjin’s words? It didn’t seem exactly safe, especially after Bogum had let it slip as he had just done. Though, Yoongi couldn’t exactly blame Bogum for assuming that they would have known. Yoongi had assumed all his group mates were straight, simply because he’d assumed they would have opened up to him had they not been. He had assumed they would have let him know he wasn’t that alone dealing with his sexuality in the midst of all the super stardom. 

It’s a comfort when it’s Seokjin himself who softens the blow of his words, putting a careful hand over his mouth as he considers the situation deeply. 

“Remember, this time last year? During contract renegotiations? He cried easily during those, kept saying he just wanted to be himself more often.” 

The atmosphere grows more somber. 

“Right, and we just bought it when he said it was about doing things like growing his hair out and walking down busy streets in the middle of the day,” Namjoon reminds them with a tense laugh. 

Yoongi had bought it too, because that’s what Taehyung had told them when they had asked. Generally speaking, Taehyung tends to be a very internal person. Yoongi has watched him work tirelessly at bettering the way he expresses his feelings. But, naturally, Taehyung is still more likely to wait until someone notices his bad moods, rather than come forward with them. And sure, Yoongi had noticed Taehyung’s spirits were typically lifted when he came home from outings with his friends, just as had been the case tonight before everything had more or less crashed. But, Yoongi had always associated that to Taehyung feeling well-rested, to getting the downtime they all longed for. Never had he thought that Taehyung came back refreshed because it was the one time he could be who he is. 

The thought of it is just too much of a contrast to the way it’s always been the members that refresh Yoongi in that way.

The guilt within Yoongi steadily grows, feeling at war with the part of him that’s stinging with betrayal. On the one hand, he knows he could have pushed for Taehyung to be more forthcoming with them. On the other hand, he’s sorely aware that Taehyung hadn’t needed that push from his outside friends. Apparently, he had been able to confess to Bogum years ago. He had found other channels where he could share that part of himself — away from them. Probably just with everyone Taehyung was interested in dating, but never Yoongi. 

He knows that last part is unfair, and untrue to boot. He thinks of Taehyung’s close friends, and definitely knows he isn’t pursuing all of them romantically or sexually. But the thought is still there, sinking its claws into Yoongi’s heart, or at least the place where he had kept that flame for Taehyung alive — for what felt like almost years now. And somehow, it’s a more soothing thought than acknowledging that Taehyung had felt more comfortable with people who weren’t them. He’d rather deal with the clouds of smoke left inside of him after extinguishing the flame, than the reality Jimin had already put into words earlier. That they had all foolishly believed they were the closest to Taehyung. 

“You know, on Rookie King,” Hoseok starts, “When Taehyung and I kissed. We turned it into a huge joke. Can we really blame him for not feeling comfortable with us?” 

Hoseok’s expression is grim, seems well-matched to Seokjin’s. Yoongi watches as Jimin’s face sours too, looking chastised by this more sympathetic train of thought. 

It doesn’t sit too well with Yoongi, who still prefers to stick to his theory than this idea that Taehyung is uncomfortable with them. 

“So? Taehyung laughed too. We were all kids. And no one here has said anything remotely hostile-sounding in years. I would know. I’m kind of wired to pick up on this stuff, too.” 

Jungkook backs Yoongi up then, speaking for the first time since Bogum had left the scene. 

“Besides, didn’t we all kiss him last year? Not on the lips, or anything like that. But, I don’t think we’ve been acting like the thought of two men together, or him specifically, is gross or anything.”

Yoongi would have usually smiled at the memory of the photoshoot. Taehyung had been wordlessly flustered, seeming overwhelmed by all members deciding to shower him in physical affection rather than give him compliments or speak random sentences, as everyone else had been treated to. Yoongi could still conjure every small ornate detail of Taehyung’s costume, the way the strands of Taehyung’s hair had been soft and had stuck to him when he had pressed his glossed lips to them. 

He doesn’t smile now. He feels bitter, and the bitterness grows when Hoseok manages to ask the killer question. 

“Then why?” 

Why hadn’t he come to them? Why hadn’t he even said anything once Bogum had spoken those fateful words? Why paint it as a joke and march right out of the scene? 

Why had Yoongi let himself have those thoughts about Taehyung for this long, if this is how he was going to feel once he finds out about Taehyung’s actual romantic conquests? Why couldn’t Taehyung see him the same way? Why was Taehyung so secretive when they would all put everything on the line for him? Why couldn’t Yoongi just quiet his mind for however much longer he’s supposed to withstand this conversation? 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yoongi finally bites out, eyes focused on the motif of the wood flooring. “Either he’s fooling around with Bogum, or Bogum knows whoever he’s fucking, or Bogum was the gateway to the person he wanted to get down with in the first place.” 

It seems reasonable to Yoongi. If he hadn’t come to Yoongi for advice, then he probably wasn’t looking for advice at all. And, as Seokjin had pointed out, it wasn’t exactly wise to spread the matter if not strictly necessary. Then, the information had probably been communicated because he had wanted to get intimate with someone. It was likely that that someone had been Bogum. 

However, Jungkook scrunches up his nose at Yoongi’s reasoning, and picks his phone back up with a slightly disturbed tone of voice. 

“Hyung, I don’t think anyone needed the image of Taehyung getting down and dirty.” 

Yoongi doesn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes, feels a little off for having put it in such a crude manner. It’s a surprise when Jimin uncrosses his arms next to him and speaks up with a bit more of a casual tone. 

“Still, if he came out to people because of like sexual prospects or whatever, kind of makes me feel a bit better.” 

The words feel like a slap in Yoongi’s face. He bites at his nails as he tries to ignore the fact that he didn’t feel soothed by the idea like Jimin did. He feels worse. Feels like it’s time to bury the flame within him for good. 

“Whatever his reasons may be. I guess he’ll come tell us eventually. When he feels ready, right?” Hoseok interrupts Yoongi’s thoughts, ever the sensible voice of the group. 

Namjoon endorses the approach right away, pats Hoseok’s shoulder almost subconsciously as he adds, “Right. We weren’t supposed to find out like this. So we’ll just give it some more time.” 

Yoongi isn’t going to put it out of mind though. He’s certain of his theory. And his theory is this: he has less of a chance to be with Taehyung than ever before. And before, his chance had already been null.

He feels for Jungkook when he stands up and invites whoever wants to to go check on Taehyung with him, just to make sure he isn’t upset or feeling destructive. He watches as, predictably, Jimin and Hoseok tag along and follow Jungkook out of the room.

He doesn’t expect it when Namjoon speaks up, says, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. There must have been a reason he didn’t talk to you about it.” 

Right, because everyone expected Yoongi to be the go-to person on queer issues. And maybe he’d expected the same, but he doesn’t want to think of that anymore. He just wants to focus on all those little bits and pieces that paint the perfect portrait of Bogum being Taehyung’s secret lover. 

He thinks of Bogum being the one who can press his body against Taehyung when he’s resting, the one who can steal kisses from Taehyung when he’s just woken up, the one who can sit near every time he wants to and share Taehyung’s meals. He thinks of how wishing for those small moments had always felt like a soothing balm for his tired soul, but now felt like the blade of a dagger, refusing to dislodge from that very same tired soul. If only because it’s fully struck him now that someone has probably already taken the role he’s dreamily longed after. 

It hardly matters, in the grand scheme of things, that he knows Bogum almost never sees Taehyung.

It’s easy to shrug and to roll his eyes at Namjoon’s small reassurance. 

“Not like I particularly care. He can tell whoever. But, like hyung said, it’s not exactly the safest.” 

It’s less easy to pretend he doesn’t see the matching looks of confusion on Namjoon and Seokjin’s faces. It’s downright impossible to forget that space he’d carved within himself, long ago it seems, for that small flame. How it felt all but extinguished for good now, leaving in its wake some type of dark sludge under billows of smoke. He can’t pretend not to feel the way the sludge tries to squeeze in between his ribs, to work itself up his throat, to take up just enough space that there isn’t any more left for any kind of spark. 

❧❦❧

Yoongi has been dreading this day. But only since yesterday, time at which he’d discovered the monstrosity of a schedule that was awaiting him today. He’d forgotten that V Live’s Global Top 10 event was sneaking up on them for yet another year. On Sunday, he’d already been surprised when he had been scheduled for his suit’s fitting. And then yesterday, Monday, after they’d wrapped up their rehearsal for the event’s broadcast, he’d been puzzled as to why they were hurried to a second fitting. 

To say he was unimpressed to be reminded that they would be going from the broadcast to the Edaily Culture Awards would be putting it mildly. But when he’d noticed the stylists packing away two sets of accessories for his second look, he’d been very displeased to remember all on his own that they’d be making a dash across town to make it to the Korean Music Awards afterwards.

One day. Three events before the cameras. The events in and of themselves weren’t too exhausting. After all, they were moving from one location to the other, most likely to collect an array of awards and trophies. The first of the three, for V Live, would be most demanding, requiring for Yoongi to make some kind of effort to entertain. But, that tended to come easier with six co-stars. For the two award ceremonies, the most demanding aspect would simply be to remain aware of the cameras pointed at him. Nonetheless, the schedule that had been looming before him remained a long one to fit into a single day, especially in the midst of preparing their new album for it to hit the shelves come spring time.

The day turns out different from what Yoongi had expected, without any sense of dragging himself through it. Instead, he finds himself hyper aware and overly sensitive to his surroundings. 

Mostly because the day starts like this: the group barely out of the dressing room, heading towards the stage and set’s wings, surrounded with staff, and Kim Taehyung’s deep voice attracting all eyes. 

Taehyung, who in the midst of the crowd, manages to tell them, “Hey. I just wanted to say that, actually, Bogum-hyung wasn’t joking last week. It was true.” 

Yoongi has to admit that he feels impressed. Their staff aren’t typically likely to step into their private conversations. And while everyone tries to stay on friendly terms, it’s well-understood that they need their space as a group — especially immediately before stepping onto stage for a live broadcast. And Taehyung’s wording is just vague enough that there isn’t much the people around them can do to catch up to the situation. 

As for the group members themselves, they can’t exactly speak honestly to Taehyung in that kind of surrounded environment. They certainly can’t get upset, or angry, or worked up right in this moment. Not with so many people around, and not just as they’re about to get the show started. 

It’s the perfect moment for Taehyung to: one, tell the truth; and two, avoid any sort of real immediate discussion on the topic. Yoongi doesn’t think it’s absolutely necessary. He doesn’t know about everyone else, but, for him, it’s been hard to cast last week’s revelation out of his mind. They’ve had enough time to reflect on Taehyung’s sexuality. Taehyung doesn’t need to give them this additional buffer time for them to process, by confessing in a setting where they can’t speak back to him right away. 

Yoongi fears that he’s been handling things poorly. When he sees Taehyung, the questions that linger on his tongue are point-blank. Are you dating Park Bogum? If not, then who? Have you never thought of dating me? Haven’t you noticed the way I notice you? Don’t you want to be open with us too? It’s been easier to just steer clear from the other. Just for now, just to afford himself the time to swallow down the questions. There are too many questions for now, and they’re clogging up his throat, and he’s afraid he’s going to vomit them all over Taehyung if the two of them are left alone for too long. 

He’s been doing his best for it not to be just the two of them. He schedules his recording time in the studio more meticulously than usual, with the new factor of where will Taehyung be at what point of the day in mind. He makes sure he has other arrangements for meals that will guarantee he won’t be seated with Taehyung. Catching up on sleep becomes his number one excuse to leave any setting that’s starting to dwindle down to only just him and Taehyung.

Maybe he’s been too deliberate in avoiding Taehyung. But, aside from Taehyung’s whole wine gifting thing, Yoongi hasn’t been called out on the avoidance. He hypothesizes that Taehyung is just too worried about his own state right now to notice Yoongi’s. Even though Yoongi’s been avoiding him, he’s still heard the many repeated sentences over the course of the week that have been directed to Taehyung. 

You’re not acting like yourself. 

Did you have something to drink? 

What’s with you today?

He can’t really tell if the others are being clueless, or if they’ve genuinely decided to set what had happened aside. In this present moment, it doesn’t seem they have trouble grasping Taehyung’s reference. They can all remember what Bogum’s “joke” had been. 

“Maybe we can talk about this later?” Namjoon suggests. Doesn’t seem condescending about it, or disapproving, mostly confused, gives a significant nod towards the end of the hallway, towards the set. 

Taehyung continues, as if he’d practiced the words before, or had put tremendous care into picking them out, and was unmoved by Namjoon’s signal to cut things short so that they could appear rested and ready once three pm would strike. A handful of minutes away now, Yoongi is guessing. 

“I thought I should tell you. Because it’s been weighing on me and today will be a long day. And also, just because I wanted to tell you.” 

Yoongi looks around, but even though Taehyung had mentioned a burden on him, no one around them seems particularly interested in inquiring or intervening. Thus, Yoongi misses it when Hoseok wraps his arms around Taehyung and Namjoon, and exclaims, “Group hug!” His mind only catches up to the words when Jungkook and Seokjin wrap their arms around him in turn. 

He wiggles into the group huddle, places his hand over Jungkook’s shoulder, and pretends not to recognize Taehyung’s hand when it moves to rest over his. 

“Oh, Tae, we knew it wasn’t a joke. But you knew that too, right?” Jimin asks from across Taehyung, eyes soft and smile softer. 

His voice is just low enough that Yoongi doesn’t even spare a thought for the staff. He watches instead as Taehyung slowly swipes his tongue over his lips. 

“Right, I knew,” Taehyung replies, sounding just slightly ashamed. “I didn’t want you all to see me differently, that’s all.” 

Taehyung’s voice is a small and broken thing. Yoongi can practically taste the defeat on the tip of his tongue. He checks Taehyung’s face, very quickly as to avoid establishing eye contact, simply to make sure the other isn’t about to start tearing up. He thinks the makeup artists have put in extra care today. He doesn’t think any of their skin is in their optimal condition after pulling such long hours inside of the recording and dance studios. They’re in the middle of production, and he’s convinced that energy is radiating throughout the company’s different teams. He doesn’t want anyone’s makeup ruined moments before hitting the stage. 

He realizes that Taehyung’s profile is maybe a little unguarded and maybe a little vulnerable, but mostly strong and impassive. And then, he realizes it’s his own stomach that feels upside down. Notices that a burning sensation seems to have crawled up his sinuses, revealing that he is the one closest to tears; not Taehyung.

He recalls how Taehyung has crawled into bed with every single member of the group. Has sought out physical comfort from all of them. Has done the “cling until they cave” routine for years on end now. He won’t lie. He likes physical comfort, too. Feels safer, happier when someone will slip a hand into his. But he never really needs that connection. Being in the same room as another member is usually enough. Observing Hoseok’s high energy, or any other combination of members roughhousing around is more than enough to reinvigorate him. Yoongi is willing to bet that would never be the case for Taehyung. 

It’s a physical ache to think of anyone pulling away from Taehyung, feeling uncomfortable having him cling to them just from knowing his orientation. Yoongi likes to think no one would have done so, but he also can’t guarantee that no one won’t. 

The ache grows when he considers Taehyung’s words carefully. He didn’t want anyone to see him differently, didn’t want anyone to pull away from him. But also, that meant he didn’t want anyone seeing him the way Yoongi already saw him. Yoongi was just meant to watch over him as a senior member of the group should. He wasn’t meant to think of his lips, or his soft embrace, or the smiles he shared when right on the edges of sleep. 

He feels it when Jungkook shifts closer and leans onto Taehyung. The hand he has over Jungkook’s shoulder moves close to Taehyung’s body, but Taehyung’s hand remains fixed over Yoongi’s. He wonders if it’s uncomfortable for Taehyung. Wonders if he’s miscalculated and it’s someone else’s hand entirely, but doesn’t dare glance over again. 

Jungkook whispers, “We like you no matter the way you are.” 

To Yoongi’s left, Seokjin adds in a normal speaking voice, “And don’t you dare act surprised. Don’t you love us unconditionally the way we do you? Come on, you should know better by now.” 

Taehyung laughs. It’s light and sounds nothing like the loud laugh he’d used throughout the week. 

“No, I mean. Yeah, you’re right.” 

There’s a pause during which Taehyung and Yoongi’s eyes meet. And Yoongi knows he’s supposed to show his support too, like everyone else had. Taehyung’s gaze is open, steady, courageous, everything Yoongi would rather not be for now. He doesn’t want to share what’s on his mind, or what’s inside of him, or how much the idea or the realization of where Taehyung sees himself in relation to the group is tearing him up from the inside-out. He wants to be alone in this for a little while longer. Wants to put the memory of his torch to sleep so that he never needs to share it with anyone else. 

Thus, Yoongi looks away from Taehyung and pulls away from the group hug. He reminds them that Taehyung has to be the first one out on stage, followed by himself, and so on. 

He hears Namjoon tell Taehyung, oh so softly, “Really we can talk more once this hell day is over. Alright?” 

And at this point of the day, Yoongi agrees it’s a hell day with a nightmarish schedule, during which he has to fight the worst feelings he’s experienced in his adult life. Feelings that he shouldn’t be interested in, really. What man his age despaired over unrequited affections? Unrequited affections with the aims of a relationship that would really be impossible to engage with in practice. It’s absurd. It’s childish. He won’t waste his time on it. 

But, come the end of the day’s schedule. He can no longer see it as a “hell day”. 

Mostly because the day ends like this: winning the Song of the Year grand prize at the Korean Music Awards unexpectedly, Namjoon directing Yoongi to the microphone, and Yoongi musing aloud about the pushback he’d felt when he’d decided to take this path to become an idol. He imprints his love for music into his every word, watches the crowd carefully, full of faces just as passionate as he is for creating. 

For a moment, he feels invincible. Can see a future where they continue besting themselves, continue creating music that is challenging, that is evocative, that will speak to whoever gives it the time of the day. 

And the moment lasts and follows him all the way home. 

He’s too keyed up to sleep, so he paces near the kitchen dressed in his pyjamas. He glances over from time to time to watch varying members fix themselves different midnight snacks. Maybe feeling so victorious had transformed the sensation of “hell day” to something different, but the day had remained long, with little time off. And the other members seemed appreciative of that fact and of their lacking sustenance throughout the day. 

Yoongi deeply regrets lingering there when, out of the blue, Taehyung comes up behind him, hair wet and cheeks flushed from the shower, and wraps his arms around him.

“Hyung!” he says too loudly, too close to Yoongi’s ear. “You were great today, I loved your speech,” he ends more quietly. 

It’s still loud enough to attract the attention of those in the kitchen, which is most everyone, from what Yoongi can tell.

Taehyung steps away as if the show of affection had been nothing. And maybe it had been. But, Yoongi has been careful in avoiding Taehyung for days now, and it seems as if Taehyung remains either blissfully unaware or serenely unaffected by it. He had still been ready to wrap his arms around Yoongi and to throw easy praise at him. 

“Taehyung.”

It’s Namjoon’s voice. Yoongi thinks he might want to start the conversation he’d promised to save for later. It makes for an awkward affair what with him standing by the fridge with his arms crossed seriously. Jungkook and Jimin are sharing a bowl of fruit, both seated on the kitchen counter. Thankfully, Seokjin is whining at them, asking for them to sit anywhere but where they prepare their food. Yoongi couldn’t agree more. 

Instead of a serious and awkward conversation though, Taehyung calls back with grand enthusiasm, “Hyung!” Then turns back and shouts for Hoseok to join the group. 

When Hoseok does join, full minutes later, he looks as if he’d managed to sleep for twelve hours in the half hour they’d had at home since coming back. He squeaks out a groggy, “What?” at Taehyung’s wide grin. 

“I just wanted to tell you all that… well, that this has been the best day for me in a long time.” And Taehyung’s smile is so devastating in that moment of pause he takes that Yoongi suddenly finds the term “hell day” to be the farthest from reality. “I was really, really, really happy today. Truly. So, I don’t know. Thank you.” 

It’s as if no one quite knows how to react to the words. Yoongi definitely knows that his ideas of the kinds of conversations Namjoon wanted to have — about openness with the group, openness with the rest of Taehyung’s social circle, the preventive measures he should be taking, whether or not he needs to have a serious talk about how he relates to his sexuality — really don’t have their place in this moment of pure happiness. Yoongi considers his own petty sentiments of longing for Taehyung to see Yoongi under a different light, under a light where he would have come to him with all of this, because he liked Yoongi, was interested in him, wanted to be with him. He wonders if all of those should be cast aside too, because this should be about the smile on Taehyung’s face exclusively. 

He thinks Jimin probably has the right idea. Because he hops off the counter, ignores Seokjin’s flabbergasted look at seeing him deserting the spot he’d previously been fighting to keep, and heads straight for Taehyung. Yoongi can’t help but beam when the kitchen fills with the pair’s laughter. Jimin has secured a strong grasp around Taehyung’s waist, and has hoisted him right off the floor and into a crushing hug. 

Even Hoseok, standing by Yoongi now and very convincingly looking half-asleep, looks mollified by the display. 

“I’m eating all of this then, Jimin,” Jungkook declares. Yoongi muses that it’s probably to look unmoved. 

When Taehyung’s feet hit the floor again, Namjoon clears his throat and uncrosses his arms. 

“Did you want to talk about it, Taehyung?” 

Taehyung shrugs, but shakes his head. Yoongi wonders if he should approach him later and talk to him one-on-one anyway. He quickly dismisses the idea. He reminds himself that Taehyung is grown-up enough to choose who he wants to confide in. On this issue, so far, it hadn’t included Yoongi. And Yoongi needs to make peace with that. More than that, he reminds himself of the ocean of sludge inside of him and the towering smoke in his lungs. He needs some time to purge himself of the reminder of his feelings. Taehyung has waited years to open up to them, it should be fine if Yoongi waits a bit more to offer his ear on the matter. 

“Not really, hyung. I’m just really happy you all know now. And that we could win so many prestigious prizes together today. It was good.” 

Taehyung’s face is so openly happy. His voice is so bright. It’s a lot for Yoongi to take in. Maybe just a bit too much. He wants to go back to the way he felt in the centre of the stage, surrounded by the others. Recalling days from lifetimes ago, when he had to justify his choice to go for all of this to just about anyone who had remotely known him as a musician. He’d felt good on that stage, like he was in the very space where he belonged.

He doesn’t feel as if he belongs here, sharing this moment of happiness with Taehyung. He doesn’t want to celebrate this; Taehyung’s successful coming out to the others. It’s good, of course it’s good. But he doesn’t understand how everyone else could so easily move on past the truth that they hadn’t been Taehyung’s first choice to share this with. They might not have been a choice at all. Taehyung’s hand had been forced by circumstances, by the awkward air that hung around him as he’d pushed his way through the week. Had it not been for Bogum’s mistake, when would they have known? Years from now? Decades? One day far in the future when they find out through news outlets that Taehyung is seeing someone? Wasn’t anyone else in the group seeing this as a happy mistake, rather than a genuine show of Taehyung’s trust and love? 

It’s so easy for Yoongi to convince himself that it must be different for him because of his romantic inclinations for Taehyung. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that anymore. He doesn’t want to dwell on this scene anymore. 

He leaves abruptly, misses the identity of whoever it is who speaks next, or whose combinations of voices mingle in the air. He doesn’t really care what they have to say. Suddenly, he’s tired. Just wants to sleep. 

This day had gone from dreaded, to hellish, to euphoric, to absolute dismal. Yoongi wants to be alone. Preferably unconscious. 

Once the bedroom door is shut behind him, he leans back onto it and presses his balled up fists against his eyes. He’s defeated now, the tears he had kept at bay throughout the entire day have escaped, and they aren’t going to slow down. 

“God, you’re so stupid. Just stop this. Stop being stupid.” 

He doesn’t manage to keep the aggression in his voice down. He’s angry with himself. Angry that he has any feelings about any of this in the first place. Angry that he can’t even quite sort out what those feelings are. He’s trying to focus his emotions on one issue at a time. For now, he’s stuck on “the fact that Taehyung just doesn’t feel the same way that you do”. Which, he knows, is probably the easiest issue. Yet, it feels as if he’s clutching an open flame rather than a lifeline. 

It feels natural then to sink to the floor into a crouched position, and to rest both his arms and forehead over his knees. He thinks he’s having trouble breathing. His breath just seems faint, just out of reach, just complicated enough to not come out right . Just as nothing he’d been feeling this past week has felt quite right . 

Of course he wants Taehyung to be happy, how could he not? He wants everyone in these dorms happy, as much as possible, and as intensely as possible. And yet the tears keep coming. 

“Nothing’s changed,” he whispers to himself, tries not to wince when the syllables come out shaky and disjointed. 

And that’s absolutely right. There hadn’t been a future in which he could pursue a fairytale ending with Taehyung when he had thought him to be straight. And there wasn’t one now that he knew he was gay. The only difference, really, was that Taehyung had found some strength within himself to come forward and to let Yoongi see an additional piece of himself. And Yoongi is lucky for that, really, he should be. 

But he knows it’s not really a part that had been shared willingly. It ended up alright, with Taehyung overflowing with joy. But it was still the product of misunderstandings and fear. 

Yoongi nearly falls over when a knock comes somewhere right above his head, right behind him. 

“Suga-hyung?” 

It’s Taehyung. Taehyung who uses the nickname lovingly, even without cameras around. Taehyung who had been so happy, and couldn’t see Yoongi in this state. Yoongi wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Couldn’t show such weakness and sorrow when Taehyung looked as if he were flourishing with this new confession. This was Yoongi’s doing and he would deal with it on his own terms. 

So, he holds his breath, hopes Taehyung can’t hear the way he’s still trying to catch his breath despite the action.

“Yoongi?” Softer then. “Are you alright?” 

Yoongi wraps a hand over his mouth and nose. It feels torturous when tears start falling more heavily. He has a passing thought that the emotional distress must be due to the long schedule. It couldn’t be exclusively due to the fact that he’d had to let go of his yearning for Taehyung. It just couldn’t be. 

Long moments pass in which Yoongi shakes and knows he’s not being quiet enough to go undetected. 

Still, eventually, Taehyung’s voice comes again, even softer than before. The softest Yoongi can recall hearing his voice outside of song. 

“Rest well. See you tomorrow then.” 

Yoongi pretends he can’t hear the sadness in Taehyung’s voice. It’s too hard to both accept that and to think back to moments before, when Taehyung had been unable to contain his pure elation. It’s just as hard to find the strength to stand up and to at least make his way to the bed. 

It had been a long day , he reminds himself. It’s not that big of a deal , he insists with himself. It’s not as if he’d ever pictured a future where he could actually capture Taehyung’s lips in a kiss . And then he tells himself in the quietest voice, which he hadn’t heard much of lately, it’s not as if you’re still a person Taehyung turns to . That voice is the easiest to bury. 

❧❦❧

Yoongi hadn’t expected Park Bogum’s tall figure when they had been ushered into the room with the promises of a “surprise guest”. Granted, not many guesses had come to mind as to who would come visit their Hong Kong show, and who could be infamous enough to justify the “Bangtan Bomb Crew” to document the surprise and meeting closely. 

At this point, it’s been a full month since Bogum had made that crucial mistake in front of the full group. It’s not like Yoongi knows if Taehyung and Bogum had made up. If apologies had been made. If Taehyung was upset, angry, or livid at Bogum for outing him to the people who were arguably the closest to him. 

Yoongi hadn’t made it his business to find out, so he doesn’t know on what terms Taehyung and Bogum currently are. 

But two things become immediately clear when entering the room. 

One. This is as much a surprise — if not more — to Taehyung as it is to anyone else. He insists on knowing how Bogum got his hands on the tickets, how long Bogum had known he would be coming, how this could have possibly fit into this busy schedule, if he had time once Taehyung was out of his stage outfit to spend with him. 

Two. The surprise couldn’t have made Taehyung happier. 

Sure, he hadn’t rushed across the room or launched himself into Bogum’s arms, or anything like that. But, his expression reads pure, unfiltered and giddy happiness. Every other moment, Taehyung is bringing a hand up to cover the heartbreakingly honest smile that has taken over his features. Really, it does little to hide the expression. 

Yoongi has many feelings about that specific expression in this specific set of circumstances. Most predominantly, just fond acceptance. Of course, he’s happy to see Taehyung like this, who wouldn’t be? But, he accepts that this is not the kind of expression Taehyung reserves for Yoongi. And even if his working theory is wrong, and Bogum and Taehyung aren’t actually an item, then Bogum still finds himself in a category in which Yoongi doesn’t belong. A category of people who get Taehyung to look that happy, that excited, and that due to their mere presence. 

So, Yoongi is both happy and accepts that there are people that Taehyung is interested in, that there are people who can help Taehyung land on cloud nine just by giving him the moment of the day. And of course, he knows he’s not one of those persons. He still matters to Taehyung, and Taehyung still loves him, and things are just fine as they are — wonderful, really. This is his dream life. And it shouldn’t matter that he isn’t ever going to be one of the persons Taehyung wants intimately close. They’re close in a different way. 

The happiness gives way to awkwardness when the camera crew leave them be and Bogum, instead of turning to Taehyung, turns most of his focus on Yoongi. 

It’s not bad conversation, and it’s hyper focused and customized for Yoongi specifically. Bogum brings up Epik High’s song, the one Yoongi had helped compose, the one that had been released just barely a week ago. It’s a topic he should have no trouble covering, but he stumbles over his words. When Bogum switches gears to the Lee Sora collaboration instead, Yoongi is not much better off. 

And when Bogum makes another attempt to salvage the conversation, by asking for future plans, Yoongi is at the end of his line. 

“Any other composing or producing work I should expect for this year?” 

Yoongi jiggles the heavy bracelets in his hand. He’d already been taking them off when the crew had been in the room. Now, he’s just playing with them aimlessly as Bogum keeps trying to reanimate a conversation with him. 

Taehyung still has a hand over his mouth, but this time Yoongi can’t tell what kind of expression he’s hiding. Just knows that he’s been watching the pair as Yoongi has struggled through the awkwardness of the encounter. He wishes Taehyung had stepped in, had come to his rescue, or at the very least had redirected the attention towards himself. Nothing of the sort has happened, so hopelessly, Yoongi gives up. 

“Maybe. You’ll have to excuse me though, just need to use the washroom.” 

There’s no hiding Taehyung’s grave, confused look. Maybe he’s disappointed in Yoongi for not making more of an effort. Personally, he doesn’t understand why he’s being tortured like this. Bogum hadn’t gone around questioning anyone else. He was supposed to be there for Taehyung, and that’s all. 

Yoongi finds his way to the washrooms easily. Presses his back to the stall he’d picked out, the very centre one, and clutches the metal bracelets close to his chest. 

It’s been a month like any other. His birthday had come and gone. He’d put in a lot of work, had enjoyed the stage tonight as much as possible. He’s just tired of having to process his feelings for Taehyung while being so close to him all the time . And goodness, Yoongi is ready to admit that Taehyung’s coming out had pushed him to be much closer to everyone, Yoongi included. Maybe Yoongi the most . It’s been a lot. A lot of Taehyung asking Yoongi if he loves him, and if so how much, and was he sure, and could he say it again. 

And Yoongi is pliant. He can tell Taehyung that he loves him, and that his love knows no limits, and that yes he’s sure, and yes he’ll say it again. The reality is that he’s suffering through every claim. Because processing his feelings meant making peace with the fact that Taehyung is the one person he’s thought of romantically for quite some time now. And it meant throwing that thought out, or at least conditioning his mind to replace it with thoughts that will be better for him. The thought, however, seems deeper and deeper enrooted into his chest the more he’s made to shower Taehyung with love. 

Yoongi feels close to his breaking point. He just needs some space, so that he can sort this out. On his own terms. By himself. Without constantly dodging Taehyung’s both vocal and physical affections. It shouldn’t be a big deal. And he shouldn’t have to deal with Bogum’s overbearing presence. Which, really, had never been all that overbearing up until tonight. Tonight, where he’d decided it would be the perfect moment to play a one-sided game of twenty questions with Yoongi. 

He pushes down the sudden panic of what if Taehyung had picked up on his behaviour? On his messy, misplaced, and ugly jealousy? What if he’d told Bogum? Who in turn was taunting Yoongi? What if, what if, what if? Instead, he clutches the jewelry closer. He thinks maybe the bends and curves of the bracelets will leave permanent indents in the palms of his hands, but he welcomes it. He’ll welcome any distraction from Taehyung-shaped thoughts. He concentrates on the topics Bogum had selected instead. All career-focused. 

Still, when he emerges from the stall and leans over the sink area, his face still looks flushed and unhappy. And when Taehyung shifts, from where he’s standing near the entrance door, where he must have surely snuck in while Yoongi was fighting with his thoughts, Yoongi feels like screaming. How is he supposed to not think about it when Taehyung takes up so much space and time in his life? 

“Yes?” Yoongi asks. He knows Taehyung isn’t going to use the washrooms. Just as Taehyung probably knows he hadn’t either. There had been no flush to his toilet, and no need to wash his hands now. He had just needed the small isolated space to catch his breath, and to refocus his negative thoughts. 

Now, they were already all out of focus again.

“Nothing,” Taehyung replies, as if on reflex, before amending, “except that you’ve been a little weird with me this past month?” 

I’m just getting used to the idea that there are people out there who are getting or will get exactly what I want from you. And trying to work out how it can hurt so badly when it’s always been the expected outcome.

“How so?” 

Taehyung pouts at that, looks as if he hadn’t expected for Yoongi to reject the premise so shamelessly. Yoongi focuses on his reflection, wills the stress out of his features. 

“Are you like angry at Bogum-hyung or something? Because he outed me?” Yoongi glances over. Taehyung hasn’t stepped further into the room. Against the washed-out blue of the door, Taehyung’s features come out paler than usual. Yoongi notices he hasn’t made a move to get out of his stage look yet, red beret still neatly bobby pinned into place. “Because, really, I think it’s really clear that he didn’t think that’s what he was doing. And I’m not angry, I don’t think you should— ”

“I’m not angry at him,” Yoongi interrupts, not with nearly as much gusto as he would have liked. 

This conversation has already tired him out more than the previous one with Bogum had. Taehyung looks uncomfortable, out of place, frozen by the door. And Yoongi knows it wouldn’t take much to reassure him, to get him to mellow out. It wouldn’t take much for him to help Taehyung be the happiest he’s seen yet. It would be easy, because Taehyung is the happiest he’s been now that he’s gotten his big “secret” off his chest. But Yoongi’s been off, and they both know so. 

He just needs more time to totally rid himself of the way he sees Taehyung. To get back to how things should be. With Taehyung as his dear friend, fellow member, precious family, but never as a romantic prospect. 

“So, you’re angry with me,” Taehyung concludes. “Because I told people I was… you know? Is that it?” A worried glance towards the stalls. “I know I kind of messed up. But I’ve been doing as much damage control as possible. Please just don’t hold this against me forever.” 

“No, Taehyung. I’m not mad about that. I guarantee more people know about me than they do you. Why would I have an issue with that?” 

He might be worried at times, sure. But he could never be upset for something like that. If he had it his way, Taehyung — and anyone else for that matter — could just present themselves as they wish, regardless of circumstances and context. 

He’s upset because —

“Then you’re mad because I didn’t tell you,” a breath, and then, “and the others.” 

Because of course Yoongi should have been the first person Taehyung goes to. Of course he would have helped. He would have done anything to help. And Taehyung must have known that, must still know that. And maybe that was part of the whole recent clinginess routine. Some sort of repressed guilt over choosing just about anyone else over Yoongi — Yoongi who knew just about exactly what he was going through. 

But, Yoongi doesn’t say any of that. Chooses to stick to his guns. He’s just upset he’s seen Taehyung in a certain way for a while now, and that Taehyung had been in a position to reciprocate that. And simply couldn’t. Which is fine. Of course it is. And it would feel fine eventually too, Yoongi just needs that additional time to get his heart to accept it. 

“God, what am I supposed to say? I’m not mad. But I am tired.” He glances back at his reflection when Taehyung’s worried, vulnerable expression remains unmoved. He stares down his reflection now, makes sure to steel his features. “I don’t really appreciate being scrutinized and analyzed as ‘weird’ just because I get tired. And today’s been a lot too, I just want to go back to the rooms, have a nice long bath, and then rest. I don’t need your friend basically interviewing me, and I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me either.”

“Well, I didn’t… I just — ”

“I get it,” Yoongi cuts in, makes sure his tone is softer, more docile, “you’re still not used to us knowing, and you’re a little sensitive. But, look. Isn’t it obvious that I am the last person who could have a problem with your sexuality?” 

Taehyung shifts in place, looks down. Yoongi can’t look for too long. It’s always surprising to see how much more striking Taehyung’s face could become under the veneer of stage makeup. It already seemed a little unfathomable that his face could get any more stunning than it was on his days off, without an ounce of makeup in sight. 

“So, really? You’re not mad at me at all?”

Taehyung’s voice is a strange mixture of hopeful and disbelieving. And Yoongi just doesn’t have the heart to tell him that actually, no, he’s struggling. He needs some space. A lot of it.

Instead, Yoongi smiles. It’s small and brittle, but when Taehyung’s expression completely lights up, he figures that it’s done the trick. 

He hates himself for it, but he can’t help but compare the excited expression to the one of pure joy Taehyung had worn at seeing Bogum in their dressing room. 

“When’s the last time I’ve ever been mad at you, Taehyung?” 

And it’s not really an answer, but Taehyung takes it as one. He rushes the few steps it takes to collide against Yoongi and secure him into an embrace that Yoongi fears could even crack a few of his ribs. But, it’s easy enough to relax against the other. 

It’s nearly as easy to keep his expression plain, to not tear up. He just has to bite into his tongue. And press the bracelets he’s still holding more harshly into the palms of his hands. Lying to Taehyung doesn’t feel great. Seeing the look of grateful relief on Taehyung’s face when he believes the lie is a thousand times worse. 

❧❦❧

“No, see? You’re still doing it like before. You’re just rolling over your shoulder. It’s a back somersault. Tuck in your chin. You’re supposed to be rolling over your head.” 

Jimin’s whispering, but not quite softly enough. Watching Taehyung attempt the roll over and over again is a little bit more entertaining (or rather concerning) than listening to Sungdeuk’s general notes. Besides, Sungdeuk has the microphone, his voice can be heard all the way into the wings. So Yoongi doesn’t feel too bad approaching Jimin and Taehyung, where they’re repeating the stunt on the set’s table. 

“Huh? I thought I was?” 

Taehyung’s eyes are wide before he paces around the table again and repeats the move. Even Yoongi can see he’s rolling over his shoulder. 

“Why don’t you put your right hand down on the table, next to your head? Just like Kook showed you?” 

“Uh, because I’m trying to not die. If I have both hands on the table and my feet don’t meet the floor, then I’m falling face first!” 

“No, Taetae, you’re not. It’ll be fine. You just need to trust your feet, they’re going to find the floor, no problem.” 

At the front of the stage, both Sungdeuk and Hoseok are calling for Jimin. Jimin hurries over as soon as he notices, leaving Taehyung alone on the table, looking as if he’s ruminating over the information he was given. 

Yoongi watches as Taehyung turns his back, repeats the move again. At the front of the stage, Jimin and Hoseok are working out how far away from the group Jimin can break out without making it impossible for Hoseok to put a hand over his shoulder a few counts later. 

He could potentially be working on something, too. Practicing a move, not even necessarily from the Dionysus stage, but from any other really. He chooses not to. It’s already been a long day of rehearsals and corrections for the upcoming leg of the tour, and from what he could tell when he last checked his watch, they were only around halfway through the day. 

Taehyung repeats the move, over, and over, and over, and over again. Yoongi keeps an ear out for any call of his name, but it never comes. And so he leans against the other end of the table, and watches Taehyung go for it time and time again. He rolls over his shoulder every single time, and Yoongi is starting to think Taehyung’s personal practice is only helping solidify his bad habit, rather than help him correct it. Yoongi doesn’t really think it’s a big deal. Fans have seen his performance of the stage on music shows, where he’d executed the move in this manner. And Taehyung hadn’t injured himself doing this stunt in this particular way. So, he guesses that’s all that should really matter. 

Just as he thinks so, Taehyung executes the somersault perfectly, rolls over his head, puts both hands down next to his head, and then promptly manages to freak out. It almost feels like he’s watching in slow motion as Taehyung’s legs twitch as if in a panic to find the floor. And for a terrifying second, it seems like Taehyung’s earlier expressed fear is about to come true, and he’s about to plummet down straight onto his face. Instead, he lands on his right knee, hands scrambling at the edge of the table, and Yoongi winces at the harshness of the fall. 

It doesn’t seem as if anyone else had been paying Taehyung’s practice much mind. Each member either accepting feedback, listening intently to all feedback given out whether it applied to them or not, stretching, or practicing their own parts that caused them difficulty. Yoongi notices that Taehyung hadn’t thought any eyes were on him either, because he stays there, kneeling, hand over heart, breathing heavily, for a few long moments. It’s a little concerning. 

“Hey, you need me to get a medic for your knee?”

“Oh!” Taehyung straightens up as soon as he notices Yoongi approaching him. And then, a radiant smile takes over his expression. “I’m fine, really! It was a little scary is all.” 

Yoongi hums, but crouches next to him anyway, if only to inspect his expression a little closer. But, Taehyung remains beaming, though a bit bashful, fluffing the back of his hair in an awfully familiar but nervous gesture. 

“You sure? Looked like a bit of a hard fall?” 

“Yeah, but finally. I did it right, huh?” He sighs then, frustrated, starts to fluff the back of his hair more aggressively. “How come I can’t get it right? I’ve been trying so hard. I work out nearly daily now. Jimin and Jungkook can do it. Why am I…” 

Taehyung doesn’t manage to finish his last question, but his aggravation is palpable. 

Yoongi shrugs. 

“So what? Not everything can come to you naturally. It’s like later in the choreography, when we have to fall into that pushup position? I don’t think that could be any harder for me.” 

Taehyung laughs loudly at that and drops into a crosslegged position. The way he moves his knee is a little stiff, so Yoongi makes a note to alert someone from the medical team later on, if only to keep an eye on it. 

“Ah, you have got to be kidding me. I’m lousy at that part, too! The worst part is, some music shows aired takes where I put my foot down, even though I manage to do it right in some shots, I swear!” 

“Right, it was the same for me…” 

His voice fades out as he watches the way Taehyung’s smile slowly vanishes. 

“It’s the opening number, you know? It would be nice if I could at least get the choreography right.” 

Yoongi stands wordlessly. It’s good timing, because just as he does Sungdeuk calls for him, something about the way he gets to his position for his verse. 

He makes his way over, and it’s a fairly easy note to take. He just needs to make the run for it more shamelessly, feel confident that most eyes will be on the other six when the time comes. Yoongi isn’t really happy though. He’s not excited by the fact that Taehyung has to pull off two stunts he’s afraid to execute in the first number alone , and this for a show they’ll be putting on at least twenty times. 

“About earlier in the choreography, when we have to fall into the pushup position? During Namjoon and Seokjin-hyung’s part?” He waits for Sungdeuk’s quick look and nod. “Couldn’t we change that up for the concert? Half of us have already hit our chins doing that move. And like, we could use more energy to get through the rest of the concert anyway.” 

It’s an easy request to make, and before he knows it, Hoseok has taken over with Sungdeuk, testing out different low-energy alternatives for the eight counts that need to be modified. 

So, he strolls back to the table, lifts his eyebrows to acknowledge Taehyung’s awed expression. And with how affectionate Taehyung has become since the month of February, it’s no surprise when in response Taehyung wraps himself around Yoongi’s arm, all smiles and gratefulness. 

“Hyung! I can’t believe you did that. That was so cool!” 

Yoongi shrugs, crosses his arms, but can’t help but smirk at Taehyung’s sincere praise. 

“It was all true. Even Jungkook has hit his chin, and he does hundreds of pushups a day. It’s not like the move is necessary to make it a good choreography. It’s dynamic enough as it is.” 

“Still, thank you. I love you.”

“I — ” 

But, the words die on Yoongi’s tongue. Taehyung had continued his trend of expressing more and more love for all the members as the weeks had gone by, ever since he’d come out to the group. And Yoongi feels almost conditioned to give the same back now. He’s almost grown used to Taehyung’s affectionate words, and to having to return them in kind. 

In this specific moment, he can’t seem to get the words out. He thinks, lately, he’s been doing a pretty great job at erasing the version of Taehyung he’d held in his heart. The one who was so loveable, who could fit perfectly against his body, and, he was pretty sure of it, would fit exactly right in this space Yoongi had always kept for a future romantic partner. 

He’d put that whole idea to rest now. It had been painful, especially with Taehyung’s growing clinginess. Taehyung, who found any reason to wrap himself all over Yoongi, or throw himself over his lap, even in the context of photoshoots now. This past month of April had been tremendously helpful though. The travel, the interviews, the performances, the releases, all of the preparation; it had been the kind of month where there wasn’t anything left in his life but work. Those sorts of periods were always temporary, but this time it had worked like a charm to put his wallowing and misery to the side. He’d emerged thinking of Taehyung as one of the poor souls who had to endure as long hours as he does. Certainly, it had helped to distract his thoughts from his lost flame. 

Now though, with Taehyung’s brilliant smile, his loving words, the front of his body pressed to the length of Yoongi’s arm, Yoongi’s having a bit of a hard time thinking. A hard time breathing, actually. Because it had been Yoongi who had caused that positive reaction. By doing next to nothing at all, really. Just looking out for Taehyung’s best interest. Just because. Just by instinct. And the reaction is so fulfilling. So beautiful. Taehyung’s happiness, at its simplest, is a lot to take in. And in that very precise moment, Yoongi realizes it’s really the number one thing he wants to take in. 

Yoongi feels like a dupe. Because maybe he hadn’t been carrying a torch for Taehyung at all. Maybe it had always been this small colony of suns living within him, expanding as more time passed, absorbing all this love that he had to shine directly onto Taehyung. 

In that terrifying moment, Yoongi realizes that it’s been around two months since his sudden and embarrassing surge of jealousy for anyone in Taehyung’s life who might just happen to be his secret lover. And that was without even a shadow of confirmation that there was even someone like that in Taehyung’s life. He realizes that it’s only in this very moment that he’s able to acknowledge that, really, the reason it’s bothering, irritating, driving him this far up the wall, is because he’s in love with Taehyung. He doesn’t just long for the comfort of their bodies or lips pressing together. He’s not just taken by the idea of being with Taehyung for the long run. He hasn’t endured all of this pain just because he’s lost this “nice fantasy” of being something with Taehyung. He’s in love with Taehyung. He doesn’t know for how long. He just knows that he is. Knows that he will go up to Sungdeuk a thousand times, if it means even just the slightest smile of gratefulness from Taehyung. 

His only thought on the matter is this cannot be happening . 

He shrugs his arm out of Taehyung’s hold, and Taehyung’s face falls that easily. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s nothing. Just. You’ve got to give hyung some space sometimes. It’s a lot lately.” 

“… Oh, right. Of course.” 

Yoongi thinks that this expression is probably the exact opposite one to the one he’d caused just a few moments ago, before the horrifying realization had dawned on him. He feels like he’s stomped all over Taehyung’s heart by rejecting his simple signs of affection. He thinks to himself that he needs some system of self-preservation, and this is it. Even if it hurts Taehyung for a little while. Because really, he knows Taehyung won’t think of this for very long. But Taehyung’s dejected expression will be on his mind for the foreseeable future. 

❧❦❧

“Right, one more time then.”

He starts the track over again. 

Yoongi had accepted when Taehyung had asked to use the smallest studio in the building, claiming he wanted the lowest risk possible of anyone walking in on their practice. He’d also accepted to turn off most of the overhead lighting when Taehyung had whined about an oncoming migraine. He’d rapped the verse along with Taehyung three times in a row, under repeated requests to do so. 

Still, he had expected Taehyung to go ahead and rap by himself this time. Even in the relative darkness of the studio, he can tell Taehyung doesn’t even as much as open his mouth. He thinks a request to move the practice back — yet again — is the only kind of demand he will absolutely turn down. 

The instrumental and backing vocals almost sound amplified by Taehyung’s continued silence. 

Yoongi is surprised when Taehyung pipes up, addresses him, and proceeds to give him a full list of other requests he wouldn’t accept in a million years. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea? We don’t have time to pull it off. Maybe we can just be up on stage hyping you three up instead.” 

“Wasn’t this your idea?” Technically, maybe. Yoongi doesn’t remember who’d brought it up during the company meeting. But, last year, when the track had first been released, Taehyung had repeated the idea over and over again. He’d even raced up on stage during their only real performance of Ddaeng, completely unprompted and surprising all three of them. “I know we don’t have much rehearsal time, but I don’t think it should be a problem. It’s not like you need to learn the words, you know them already.” 

In fact, they didn’t have enough time to rehearse anything for the fan meeting properly. They’d only just landed from Europe, and their first performances were already days away. Sitting down to supervise Taehyung’s delivery of his Ddaeng verse was already an important strain on their schedule. He couldn’t really afford Taehyung clamming up like this. 

“Why don’t we just split Seokjin-hyung and Jimin up? One of them can cover your verse. They don’t have to share Hoseok-hyung’s.” 

“Because they’ve been repeating the lines they were allocated. You already know the verse, so what’s wrong with the distribution as it is now?”

Yoongi can’t quite manage to read Taehyung’s expression, not without more lights turned on. His posture is impassable, too. He’s certain though that something is bothering the younger. And that’s confirmed with Taehyung’s next suggestion.

“Then, maybe I could rap the first line or something, and you can cut me off and take over.” 

“Why?” Yoongi cuts to the chase. 

“Because I can’t rap it.” 

The “duh” is implicit. 

“You could rap it, literally, the day it was released.” 

Even with the lights turned off, Yoongi can tell when Taehyung’s energy shifts. Like a cat’s fur bristling moments before a storm hits. Taehyung tenses up, looks pointedly away, and Yoongi only guesses at the angry lines that his eyebrows shape. 

But Taehyung’s answer isn’t quite helpful, just more words void of real meaning. 

“It’s different now.” 

“It was performed once, like days after it dropped. How exactly is it different?” 

Taehyung switches tunes, states, “I’m different,” instead. 

Yoongi considers it, but only for a moment. Maybe Taehyung was different in the way that he was more generous with his love, more inclined to getting incredibly close to others on and off stage. But, not really different in any other way.

“Hardly.” 

“You’re different, then.” 

Only insofar that he’d fallen in love, when his heart had already been broken in the first place. 

Just as Taehyung’s vibe had shifted unexplainably, so does Yoongi’s. Suddenly, he’s not amused. He wants to cut out the part where he needs to coax things out of Taehyung. Whatever issue there is here, they need to step over it quickly. 

“Listen. We don’t have all day. We probably don’t even have an hour. What’s the deal here?” 

“Nothing.” Taehyung speaks the word with obvious irritation, pushes a hand roughly through his hair.

“Then, I’ll start the track over. You had no problem this time last year.” 

He starts the track over, but that doesn’t seem to deter Taehyung from talking back, just one last time. 

“Last year, yeah. Because you didn’t hate me yet back then.” 

It’s said with surprising bite. It’s enough to even drown out the beats from the ever so familiar track. 

Yoongi pauses. It only takes a moment or so for his brain to translate what Taehyung has said. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that Taehyung knows he loves him, knows he doesn’t hate him. His mind supplies him with what Taehyung might have meant instead; you didn’t shrink away from my touch back then , you didn’t go out of your way not to be left alone with me back then , you weren’t keeping things from me back then , you looked at me more often back then , you used to always be waiting for me to lean on you . 

The word “hate” is meant to grab Yoongi’s attention, to coax him into coddling Taehyung and reassuring him of how much he loves him. Because, Yoongi is guessing, this is what it’s about. Taehyung feeling insecure and self-conscious that Yoongi has put so much distance between them as of late, while Taehyung has been doing everything he can to get as close to his members as possible.

Part of Yoongi wants to give in and turn the lights back on. Look Taehyung straight in the eye and confess that it’s the exact opposite. Yes, he’s been distant. But only because he’s utterly and irrevocably in love with Taehyung, and hasn’t wanted to burden him with those feelings or with that knowledge.

A larger part of Yoongi is comforted by the darkness, doesn’t want Taehyung to see the effect the words have on him. Because, really, he isn’t quite sure what that effect is. Just knows that his tongue feels too large for his mouth, and his stomach too small for his body. 

He pauses the music. Takes a deep breath. Forces a tacky smile onto his face, even though Taehyung won’t be able to make out the shape of it under the poor lighting. 

“Well, lucky for you then. I still have yet to start hating you. So, let’s take it from the top. No more wasting time.” 

And if it sounds as if he’s sidestepping Taehyung’s obvious opening, it’s because he is. He knows what Taehyung is alluding to. Of course, he realizes the distance he’s imposed between them. He doesn’t think it’s anything too evident, not anything anyone else should have picked up on. However, he’s also known all along that Taehyung had taken notice of it. 

He’s still waiting for the day Taehyung will stop pushing against that distance, stop fighting tooth and nail for Yoongi to show him the same kind of unbridled, unrestricted, outpouring kind of love Taehyung does. Judging by the resentment in Taehyung’s last words, Yoongi is hopeful it will come sooner rather than later.

So, Yoongi doesn’t explain. Doesn’t clarify. He doesn’t bring Taehyung in closer to explain that he’s both heartbroken and so in love with him, and just needs to put that to rest. That he’s been working on it for a while, and thinks it’s working, kind of. But he needs both time and space now. There’s nothing wrong with Taehyung, it’s just how things have to be for now. 

Instead, Yoongi gets Taehyung to run through the verse a total of five times. He reminds Taehyung to write down all the notes Yoongi had given him before bed tonight. It’s something they’ve all practiced since their trainee days, to help make sure they don’t receive the same notes over and over again. The verse isn’t terrible, but Taehyung definitely needs more practice. He probably needs some time alone to help drain out the apparent discomfort and insecurities that are seeping through his lines. 

When they leave the studio, with hurried steps to make it to their scheduled dance practice, Yoongi takes stock of Taehyung’s appearance. With unruly hair and a glassy gaze, Yoongi suspects Taehyung’s stresses and worries are starting to overwhelm him again. Not the best of news, given how easily and confidently Taehyung had navigated through the first half of the year. 

But, then, Taehyung reaches out and wraps an arm around Yoongi’s. 

With the softest of voices, Taehyung asks him, “You promise you don’t hate me then?” 

Yoongi kind of feels like a monster. Because Taehyung’s stresses and worries are specifically related to the fear that Yoongi is pushing him away for some unknown reason. And Yoongi could disprove that. He could choose to comfort Taehyung, shower him with love as he’s so clearly pleading for Yoongi to do.

He could decide to lean his weight against Taehyung and to simply act as he had before he’d found out about Taehyung’s sexuality. It shouldn’t be complicated. Back then, he’d simply acted comfortably, as his body and heart desired.

But, now, he’s uncomfortable. His body and heart just want him rigid, want him to protect whatever potential spark he could reanimate within himself. 

So, instead, he pretends he hasn’t understood Taehyung’s plea for comfort. He says, “If the day ever comes, I promise you’ll be the first I tell.”

And Taehyung giggles, as if reassured by the words. But, the way he pushes himself closer against Yoongi’s body is a sure indicator that he’s anything but reassured. 

Yoongi doesn’t really know how much farther he can bend before breaking. 

❧❦❧

Yoongi needs to take a bath. It’ll be good for both his muscles and spirits. They’ve been home long enough now that surely everyone else has completed their nighttime routine. He won’t be bothering anyone by taking an extremely long bath, something he usually only allows himself while on tour when staying in hotel suites. Even in his family home, he’s too embarrassed to take as much time in the bathroom as he’d ideally like to. 

Tonight, he thinks he would probably stay in the tub for more than an hour. Mostly because he’s feeling so lethargic. Even now, that very same lethargy is the same obstacle keeping him flat on his bed and away from the bathroom. 

He has his cheek pressed to his pillow, arms wrapped around it comfortably, and knees tucked in upwards. He’d fallen into the position earlier in the night, when they’d arrived home from their show — their last Muster performance in Seoul.

This year had been a little trickier, he would have enjoyed more rehearsal time to perfect their performances. But, ultimately, they’d all had a wonderful time on stage, and the fans had seemed just as enthused. A big success, by all means. 

He’s tired though, even too tired to acknowledge the knock at his bedroom door. 

“Hyung?” 

So, the knock had been Taehyung then. 

Yoongi doesn’t move. He figures he should probably turn over, but still can’t conjure the energy to do so. He remembers he’s supposed to compliment Taehyung on his verse in Ddaeng. He had for all three performances before. The sentiment was initially born from the intent to reassure Taehyung and encourage him to push through the performances. After the second night in Busan, it had become natural, ignited by the way Taehyung had exponentially improved his performance overnight. And he’d done so from show to show. Honestly, it was a delight for him to be by Taehyung’s side on stage for the performance. Taehyung put his entire body, face, expression, movement and fluidity into his delivery of the lines; very much like he delivered his vocal lines usually. But it impressed Yoongi to no end knowing that Taehyung had been more or less terrified of giving this specific performance. 

He shuts his eyes, yawns for a brief moment, and then pulls his pillow in closer as he makes a tired attempt at a compliment. 

“You did real good again on my verse. Probably the best time.” 

It’s maybe mumbled and sleepy-sounding, but it should be good enough. Yoongi had raved and raved about Taehyung’s performance throughout the week separating the Busan and Seoul dates. Taehyung should know that this is the peak of Yoongi’s admiration for both his resilience and charms. 

He hears the quick patter of steps, but definitely doesn’t see it coming when Taehyung hops into his bed behind him, and hugs him close to his chest. The feeling of Taehyung pressing his chin to Yoongi’s shoulder is becoming familiar. Yoongi can’t help but to be reminded of the way Taehyung had hugged him on stage in Busan. Taehyung had come straight for Yoongi, and had cuddled him with all the gentleness in the world. It was the same energy he put into the embrace now. Arms wrapped around Yoongi, and hands comfortably rested over his ribcage. Knees tucked in behind Yoongi’s as if he desperately wanted their full bodies to be pressed up one against the other.

It’s a lot. And Taehyung’s words aren’t illuminating at all, are barely related to this delicate hold and kind of affection. 

“It’s thanks to you. Thank you, you know, for letting me. And encouraging me, both on stage and not.” 

Yoongi’s alright. He’s somehow managed not to tense up. Even manages to give a weak nod of acknowledgement. But then, Taehyung pulls back, and Yoongi inhales, ready to relax fully with Taehyung’s departure, but instead the younger only comes back in and presses his nose to the back of Yoongi’s neck. 

And because it seems as if Taehyung has decided to mould his body to the shape of Yoongi’s, Yoongi can very well feel it when Taehyung’s breathing evens out. This might as well be the first time it’s just the two of them, outside of a work context, since Yoongi has made it a mission to push Taehyung away. Or at least, since he’s made it a priority, back on that stage after Taehyung had hit his knee. He doesn’t really understand. If Taehyung had simply come to his bedroom to cuddle him, he’d prefer for it to be over and done with quickly. 

He wishes he had motivated himself to go take that bath. Taehyung smells nice, freshly showered probably. Yoongi hasn’t even turned back to see him yet, but judging by the arms wrapped around his middle, Taehyung’s already dressed for bed. Yoongi hopes to every single higher power and deity that Taehyung hadn’t been planning on sleeping in his bed tonight. 

Just the thought of it makes him miserable. 

Yoongi doesn’t mean to let that misery seep out or show. And he wouldn’t have thought that he had. And yet, as soon as he fully accepts how awful of a turn of events Taehyung’s presence in his room truly is, Taehyung is pulling away completely. 

“What’s with you?” The edge of accusation is sharp. 

“Nothing,” Yoongi repeats, as he had every other time Taehyung had tried digging for some reason behind Yoongi’s distant behaviour.

“I thought this was over, are you kidding? Whatever’s going on, hasn’t it gone on long enough?”

It’s more than natural now to act as if he’s clueless on the matter. He shuts his eyes again, brings his pillow in closer, and asks coolly, “What do you mean?”

He listens closely to the sound of Taehyung’s defeated laughter, guesses that he has turned away from him now, but still remains on the bed. So, Yoongi stays put. Wills himself to stay in place until Taehyung leaves the room altogether. By this time tomorrow, this sort of half-confrontation will be long in the past. 

But when Taehyung speaks again, in a mumbled voice that almost doesn’t reach Yoongi, especially given their positions, Yoongi isn’t so sure anymore that this is a forgettable event or just a detail in Taehyung’s life. 

“These last two weeks… I really thought all this stuff was over. We had so much fun together. And we even hugged. A lot.” 

Yoongi resists the urge to point out that it had almost all been Taehyung hugging him, and him simply allowing it. 

“I think maybe you’re just tired, going to bed early might help?” 

Just, not in Yoongi’s bed. 

A moment passes, and it’s long enough that Yoongi starts fearing that Taehyung had indeed taken the advice and had just fallen asleep right there and then, in his bed. When he glances behind his shoulder, he sees that Taehyung has more or less mirrored his posture, all curled in on himself. But he also sees it when Taehyung takes a stuttering, gasping breath. The sound of it is even more cutting than the visible shake in Taehyung’s frame. 

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong — if I’ve done something wrong? Whatever it is I can change it. I promise.”

And so, Yoongi sits up. The lethargic feelings that had weighed him down have vanished now. Now, he feels something like panic. He’s not going to have a heart-to-heart with Taehyung. It would be too humiliating. But, doesn’t he have to say something? Taehyung is visibly upset, and not “forget about it tomorrow” kind of upset. Deeply upset, as if he had pent up all his worries and insecurities about the way Yoongi has treated him for months . Other than the truth, Yoongi doesn’t really know what he can offer. 

Yoongi wraps a hand around Taehyung’s upper arm. There isn’t a reaction until Yoongi gently tells him, “Let’s get you to bed.” The jerk Taehyung gives in reply is violent, as if he’s ready to chain himself to the bed in order to get some kind of explanation. 

Yoongi can’t really see himself forcibly removing Taehyung from his room. He doesn’t think it could physically work anyway. He could easily leave for his bath instead, and simply sleep elsewhere in the dorms, or outside of the dorms altogether. It wouldn’t be so complicated, and it would get him away from the confrontation. 

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually,” Taehyung speaks when Yoongi finally manages to stand. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because you’re torturing me.” 

Taehyung’s words are simple, yet loud. Yoongi thinks Taehyung must be really upset if he’s losing control of his voice’s volume in the space of a single sentence. But it’s the sincerity in the words, the way they had sounded unassuming despite being almost shouted, that convinces Yoongi to go around the bed and to crouch before Taehyung. 

The sight of Taehyung’s face is shocking to Yoongi. A dark stain has formed over the covers, where Taehyung’s cheek is pressed. The tears had travelled either over the bridge of his nose, or directly down his right cheek. And even now, with his eyes locked with Yoongi’s, the tears continue falling. If someone would have asked Yoongi what kind of crier Taehyung was, he would have never answered with “silent”. But his crying now is silent as a grave. As if he has given up so thoroughly that he can’t bring himself to make a peep more. 

Yoongi does feel his face flush and his eyes burn, but he presses his lips together and wills himself not to join Taehyung in his tears. It’s hard seeing him in this kind of state, but maybe if he just convinces himself that Taehyung is upset from tiredness, and not from Yoongi’s distance, then it might help Taehyung convince himself of the same, too. He could maybe forget that this wasn’t how Yoongi used to treat him. 

“You’re torturing yourself, Taehyung. I’ve told you nothing’s going on with me. Stop worrying yourself like this.” 

At that, Taehyung actually sobs. It’s an uncontrolled sound, that almost looks as if it had opened the floodgates for an alarming number of additional tears. And Yoongi watches, as if trapped in a feverish nightmare, as Taehyung presses his face to the covers, and the stain of tears doubles in size. This is the sort of crying Taehyung only does when extremely sad. 

Yoongi’s only human, he sniffs and wipes his eyes before he can have any tears of his own making their way down his cheeks. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispers to Taehyung. He thinks of holding his hand. Of wiping those tears himself. But he stays put, with his hands firmly placed over his knees. 

Taehyung shakes his head. His lips are pursed and pouted, as if he’s putting a lot of effort in to not openly sob. “I know there’s something. I know there is. I thought it was done now, so I came to… to be close to you again. But it’s not over. It’s just the same. And I can’t stand it anymore.”

Now, it’s too late to decide on holding Taehyung’s hand. He’s pressed both his hands to his face, as if that would be enough to erase the image of his crying from Yoongi’s heart and mind. 

“There isn’t anything,” he insists, knowing full well at this point that his denial holds no weight to Taehyung. 

“You aren’t close to me anymore.”

“I am. We’re always together, what do you mean?” 

“You don’t love me anymore.” 

His heart sinks. Part of him longs for those words to be true. They aren’t. He loves Taehyung just as much as before. And all the distance he’d imposed on their relationship, evidently, had not helped his feelings dissipate in any way. It had only taken the shape of a deep wound that they both bore now. 

And again, he knows Taehyung is sure of that love. It’s just yet another plea for Yoongi to come clean and to comfort him, regardless of the fact that Taehyung knows he’s making an absurd claim. 

He sighs. 

“I do love you.” Going against his instincts, he reaches for Taehyung’s hands and pries them away from his face. The sight of his crying is as painful as before, but at least he has Taehyung’s hands in his now. “And I’m also sorry. Hyung has made some mistakes recently.”

Taehyung shakes his head again, surely taken aback by Yoongi’s sudden change of tune. 

“Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” 

Yoongi’s eyes lift to the ceiling. He takes a couple of measured breaths. Tries to remember the exact way he had felt when he’d first understood why it was that Taehyung hadn’t turned to him about his sexuality. He can’t tell Taehyung the veritable truth, but maybe he can package it in a way that Taehyung can understand and accept. 

“It’s just been weird, I guess? I just kind of figured you must be seeing some guy, right? That’s the reason all your friends knew about your preference, right? And I guess I’ve just been miffed that you’re keeping that sort of relationship so secret from us.” 

There’s no nod from Taehyung or look in his eyes that would prompt Yoongi to think he understands. So, he looks down a little angrily, subconsciously tightens his hold on Taehyung’s hands. 

Eventually, Taehyung gives a loud sniff and sits up in the bed. Yoongi’s crouched form ends up framed between Taehyung’s legs. One of Taehyung’s hands escapes Yoongi’s hold, but it’s only so that Taehyung can rub tiredly at his forehead. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not really following.” Taehyung brushes a hand over his cheeks now, ridding himself of the traces of his tears. He kind of looks like a mess overall, Yoongi notices, but a loveable mess. Someone who needs to be pampered with a lot of love, just as Taehyung had clearly been requesting for months now. 

Yoongi takes another calming breath, keeps his eyes down as he recites his logic from long ago. 

“If Bogum knew you were gay, it was because you were either hooking up or dating already. And if not, then he knew whoever it is that you are hooking up with or dating. I don’t know really.” 

Again, Taehyung takes an excruciatingly long time to process Yoongi’s words. He doesn’t look much more confident or comprehending of where this conversation is heading when he speaks. 

“So like, you think I’ve been like in a committed relationship all this time and like, what? Haven’t told any of you?” 

Yoongi doesn’t like the way Taehyung says it, as if it’s a preposterous statement. 

“Why not? You kept the fact that you’re gay from us literally for years.” 

The hand Yoongi’s still holding trembles slightly, and when his grip lightens, Taehyung’s hand slips away immediately. He brings it in close to his heart, in a gesture that easily reveals to Yoongi that the other’s feeling vulnerable now. 

“You know that’s not the same.” 

Suddenly, Yoongi feels himself tear up again. For a moment, it had seemed as if this was heading towards a resolution. Maybe through an awkward and uncomfortable conversation, but it was still heading in a good direction. Yoongi isn’t so sure anymore. It feels as if they’re having two different conversations. 

He debates with himself whether he should just give up and go take that godforsaken bath. 

As soon as he opens his mouth, he wishes he had opted for the bath. 

“Well, you knew this whole time that I was bisexual. You know, when all that stuff happened with Bogum, all the others just assumed I already knew about you. Do you know how embarrassing that was?” 

“What? Like, they thought you could sense it whenever someone isn’t straight?” 

“No!” Yoongi snaps at Taehyung’s continued cluelessness, standing up abruptly. “No, because they thought you’d have talked to me. Because I’d get it. And maybe you didn’t need someone who would get it. Did you ever consider that would have been kind of nice for me to have though?” 

Taehyung looks flummoxed. Yoongi kind of feels the same. That’s not something he’d ever thought to himself — that he resented the fact that Taehyung had kept this to himself, when they could have been sharing their experiences with sexuality and fame. When Yoongi could have had someone to confide in, too. 

“It just felt safer to tell people who were newer in my life. If they didn’t like me for it, then that’s that. But if one of you didn’t…?” Taehyung’s voice is hesitant, insecure. Yoongi can only guess at the rest, the fear, the anxiety, the worries he’s leaving unspoken. “I just didn’t want you, any of you, to see me differently. Like I said. You understand, don’t you?” 

When Yoongi looks down, Taehyung’s eyes are round, as watery as his own. He turns away from the bed, wraps a weak arm around his stomach. 

“But obviously, you already see me differently. Because, before, you would have come to me with any problem. You actually counted on me to help you.” 

The burning sensation in his eyes becomes stronger. Not once, in all these months, had he thought of things in this way. Thought of all the times, as a trainee, when Taehyung would race to him in a panic. And it was only through a lot of stern talking and promises that Yoongi would accompany him every step of the way that Taehyung would calm down. 

He’d been so convinced that this was all about his chances with Taehyung becoming null, yet… 

“I don’t see you differently at all. What are you saying? I do count on you to help me. You’ve got to know that.” 

This time, it’s Taehyung who reaches out to take hold of Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi doesn’t resist, doesn’t go rigid, but also doesn’t move closer or to sit down. He keeps his gaze up high and grimaces in a continued attempt to keep himself from crying. 

“Not really though,” he starts softly. “This is the one thing I could have helped you with more than anyone else. And you didn’t come see me about it. And if we’ve already grown apart in this kind of way, even though we’re still living and working together? Then what’s going to happen ten, twenty years from now? Do you think I’ll even be part of your life at all?”

He doesn’t get to see the expression on Taehyung’s face, barely has time to feel any way about how Taehyung lets go of his hands all at once. Just knows that it’s easy to hug Taehyung back this time, when the other stands and pulls him in. It’s the same kind of hug he’d been replaying in his memories. The one from Busan. Where Taehyung had held him with all the care in the world. But this time, Yoongi hugs back, clutches the back of Taehyung’s silk pyjamas tightly. He cries directly onto Taehyung’s shoulder, and surprises himself with the force of his own silent sobs this time. 

He feels like a fool. Like someone who hadn’t been brave enough to inspect their own feelings seriously. He’d settled on jealous fury and heartbroken longing, when in reality he had been terrified. Terrified of watching Taehyung grow away from him, from them altogether, and leaving him behind. Never needing Yoongi, the way he had once used to need him. 

“Hyung, don’t cry,” Taehyung whispers, an echo from the words Yoongi had used not that long ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi sobs harder. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was just scared and confused. I don’t want you to go away.” 

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” Taehyung starts rocking them gently, and Yoongi lets himself lean fully against him. “I do need you, you know?” 

“Not this time though.” 

Yoongi does make an attempt not to sound petty. He doesn’t think it’s successful, but it’s met with Taehyung’s relieved laughter — so he supposes it’s not too bad of a result. 

“I need you. During bad times, and good times too. This year has been really good. And I’ve been happy. But I still needed you. Maybe I don’t need you to talk me through my problems, or listen to me, not always anyway. But I do need you by my side, ok?” 

Yoongi doesn’t fully understand the sentiment, but he understands Taehyung’s genuineness when he pulls away to speak to him earnestly, to look him directly in the eye. 

“You do?” Barely any sound escapes Yoongi’s lips. But Taehyung’s nodding avidly in no time. 

“I do. I always want you by my side. I thought you could feel that? Whenever I hug you? Hold you? Pull you in close? I’m trying to show you how much I need you with me.” 

So, Yoongi lets himself be pulled in close, and hugged as if he were the most precious finding in the world. He tries to apologize a few more times, but Taehyung seems more interested in making sure he’s not stressed, worried, or doubting Taehyung’s commitment to their friendship. 

He ends up falling asleep with his cheek pressed to Taehyung’s shoulder. He doesn’t get the chance to take his bath. He regrets that development when waking up, but soon makes peace with it when he remembers Taehyung. Taehyung, sleeping deeply, face a little swollen from both the crying and the rest, but sleeping with a smile on his face. 

The flame within him burns healthily, fed by the sight of Taehyung, and the heat of his body in between Yoongi’s bedsheets. 

This obsession over who Taehyung had been and is with feels so foreign now. Yoongi thinks of all the distance he’d forced between them, finally understands it as him materializing the distance he’d felt Taehyung had put between them when he’d failed to turn to Yoongi. 

For the first time, he accepts that it had hurt to find out he wasn’t Taehyung’s go-to person in times of struggle. It had hurt badly. Had hurt much more than any realization that he wasn’t ever going to be part of Taehyung’s romantic prospects. 

He falls back into bed, postpones washing up for a few more hours as he curls back into the shape of Taehyung’s body. It had hurt, yes. But he’d seen the hurt in Taehyung earlier, too. Understands now that Taehyung still needs him, even if he’s not relying on him for every problem. 

Yoongi thinks he’s alright with all of it. He pushes the flame a little farther down, reminds it not to be too reckless. Taehyung needs him, the close friend who had always stood by his side, no matter the context. Taehyung didn’t need him, the man who was hopelessly in love with him. 

❧❦❧

It’s past midnight when Yoongi startles himself awake. There’s only one thing on his mind.

He struggles to find his slippers in the dark. The hotel room is still unfamiliar, so he groans as he works out the layout of it. It’s a relief when he finds the bathroom, but when he switches its lights on he has to squeeze his eyes back shut for several long moments. 

When the pain passes, he approaches the mirror. He doesn’t like his appearance, not right now. It would probably be best to take a shower. But, it’s already late. And Taehyung might already be asleep. If he’s just on the brink of sleep, he doesn’t want to miss that opening. 

Still, he tries to flatten the strands of hair that are sticking out just too much, applies chapstick to his lips and throws some water in his face to wake up just a bit more. But, even awake, the thought that had pulled him out of sleep remains enticing. 

He has to tell Taehyung the truth. 

Sure, he had told Taehyung the truth about what had been bothering him. Even though that truth had remained hidden from even himself until then. But, Yoongi needs to tell Taehyung that he’s in love with him. 

He’d never thought of doing that until just now. 

But, he knows what it’s about. 

It’s about earlier in the day. When Jimin and Taehyung had arrived at the Gimpo Airport later than the rest of the group. They hadn’t shared what had kept them back at the dorms. But, Taehyung had kept his dark face-mask in place and eyes downcast, and had spoken next to nothing at all — even when it had been just them in their private waiting area. 

When an employee had come to announce their boarding, Taehyung had said the only words Yoongi had heard of him today. 

“Here we go again.” 

The words tasted pained, and his eyes had lifted skywards, as if he were sending a silent plea to the heavens.

And Yoongi? He felt like shit . 

Maybe it was presumptuous to even consider that Taehyung’s dark mood was related to Yoongi. But, Yoongi is observant. And he’s seen Taehyung’s reactions over the course of the last two weeks. Taehyung, starting hopeful, trusting that their relationship was completely mended. And withdrawing progressively more and more as Yoongi failed to show a decent level of comfort around him. 

Their confrontation had been a saving grace for Yoongi. The key to piecing together his feelings of hurt and dejection. Of course, it might have been difficult to come to terms with not being “the one” for the person he himself saw as just that. But, what had cut the deepest had been seeing himself as someone Taehyung no longer relied on. Now that that fear had been put into the open, dispelled, and soothed by Taehyung, Yoongi felt better. Like he could take in a full breath, and nothing inside of him felt off. There was still a flame keeping his insides warm and his heart ready to offer itself. So, he doesn’t want to push Taehyung away anymore. But, it’s still been challenging. Because he’d already had trouble breathing and feeling like his insides belonged to him when he’d first acknowledged that he was in love with Taehyung. And now that he’s both alright, and aware of the full extent of his feelings for Taehyung; he doesn’t quite know how to be as close to Taehyung as he had once been without letting it slip or show. 

With every passing day though, he’s afraid his reluctance and hesitation are chipping away at the trust Taehyung has in him. He doesn’t want to go on stage like this. They’d be giving the concert the day after tomorrow, for the first time in nearly a month. And the end of the tour was drawing to a close by now. Their upcoming projects are starting to pile up in their to-do lists. He just wants to go back to times where Taehyung could be comfortable and happy around him. And, hopefully, honesty could revive that. 

Hopefully, Taehyung wouldn’t be totally disturbed by the confession. Yoongi doesn’t think so. He thinks Taehyung, actually, has shown surprising emotional maturity this year. More than Yoongi has. And he trusts him. Trusts him enough to put this out in the open. 

Just the same, the walk down the hallway sends his heart into a race. He lets his fingers glide over the surface of each door he passes, counting down the numbers to Taehyung’s. His phone displays the chart management had sent out, detailing their current floor plan. 

He knocks softly on Taehyung’s door, still wishes that Taehyung is soundly asleep on the other side. Though he doesn’t know when he’ll try next if Taehyung doesn’t come to the door. 

But, Taehyung does come to the door. He has his bed covers wrapped around him like a cloak. He looks sleepy, but not as if he’d just woken up. The light isn’t quite back in his eyes. He doesn’t smile or greet Yoongi, simply opens the door wider for him, and gives him space in the bed. 

Yoongi watches as Taehyung turns off the Switch that had been resting over the bedside table. At least Taehyung had still been up. 

“I didn’t realize you were playing again.” 

“Oh?” Taehyung pushes his hair behind his ears. It had been getting longer again. “Oh, well. Not a lot. But I couldn’t really sleep tonight.” 

“I was asleep earlier.”

Taehyung laughs then, a little sad, but just a little. “Yeah, I could tell. Your hair is a little crazy in the back right now.” 

Yoongi groans lowly, uses both hands to try to flatten the back of his hair. 

“Was no one else awake?” Taehyung asks him curiously, albeit suspiciously. 

Yoongi hadn’t checked his phone, but based on that tone, he guesses there had been activity on their group chat late at night. 

“I woke up because there was something I needed to tell you.” 

Taehyung wraps the covers tighter around his shoulders. He nods seriously, but Yoongi can see the hesitation in his movements, the creeping fear behind his brave front. 

“It’s nothing bad, Tae.” 

A sad sigh escapes Taehyung’s lips. 

“You said you didn’t want me to go away. But… but I think you’re the one going away, hyung. You avoid me, cut our conversations short, don’t answer my messages, end all physical contact as quickly as possible. Like, it may surprise you, but I can actually take a hint.” Taehyung puts a hand over Yoongi’s knee when Yoongi straightens up to answer, and stops him with a loaded look. “I just wish you hadn’t pretended like things were going to be fine between us again. It’s kind of shitty.” 

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” Yoongi confesses in a hurried whisper. He feels unfairly unguarded in this situation, with Taehyung in his own room, swallowed up by his covers, as Yoongi sits awkwardly on the mattress, clothes and hair still ruffled from sleep. “It’s just, this thing. This thing that I only noticed like two months ago. And I’ve been trying to just, not have this thing anymore. But, I don’t think that’s going anywhere. And I’ve been scared of you finding it out, so I’m just here to tell it to you directly instead. So that it can stop affecting our friendship.” 

Taehyung looks a little less guarded at that, and a lot more concerned. Yoongi has a passing thought that he could have worded that with more finesse, a little more elegantly. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong .” Yoongi smiles at that, hopes Taehyung will agree with the sentiment, but still feels like his tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth as he tries expressing his feelings. “Do you remember I told you I was upset that you were keeping your romantic relationships to yourself?” 

Taehyung pushes his foot against Yoongi’s thigh, and Yoongi laughs as best as he can as Taehyung openly pouts. 

“I’m really not. You got that, right?” 

“Right. I got that. It’s just that, I think you should know. The reason I was kind of obsessed with that. It’s just, that I wanted to be the one in a relationship with you…?” 

His words drag into a question, and it gives way to an awkward lull in their conversation. Taehyung stares, hesitates to answer, confused as to whether or not Yoongi was prompting him to speak then. Yoongi picks back up though, with a trembling voice and reddening cheeks. 

“And I was used to wanting that. That was totally manageable. It’s just that. Since then I’ve realized that, actually, I love you. Completely. I really love you.” He bites his tongue, tries to slow down his speech. Shifts a little farther away from Taehyung. “And I want you to know. I’m not expecting anything from you. I just want you to know that, like, you have my heart. But, you can take it or leave it. And either way, it’s fine. I was just stressed because I didn’t want you to find out. But now you know.” 

“Why didn’t you want me to find out?” Taehyung asks immediately, doesn’t comment on any other portion of what Yoongi has said. 

“I know you said you didn’t want us to see you differently. And here I am falling in love with you. So, I… I want you to be happy. I didn’t think this would make you happy.” 

In the silence that follows, Taehyung crawls over and wraps Yoongi up in the covers. They hug like that, completely blanketed, and both a little unhappy and stressed, Yoongi imagines, but together. 

Taehyung tells him, after Yoongi’s heart has slowed and the fear has somewhat passed, “I’d prefer for you to see me this way, anyway. That way we can be on the same page.” 

“The same page?” he asks back, not understanding how he’s supposed to interpret the statement. 

“As in I figured the same thing out recently, too. What is it they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably, wishes Taehyung hadn’t wrapped him up, so that he could quickly escape the scene. 

“I wasn’t joking, Taehyung. I hope that was clear.” 

Somewhere inside their cocoon of blankets, Taehyung’s hands find his. His stare is intense when he says, “Min Yoongi, I love you. I don’t want you to ignore me or push me away anymore. I just want to be with you.” He smiles slowly, hesitantly. “Couldn’t you tell you’ve always been my favourite…?” 

It’s a hard statement to come to terms with. Reciprocated feelings hadn’t been in Yoongi’s list of considerations. But by the time the early morning hits, Yoongi’s lips feel a little numb from meeting Taehyung’s over and over again. And his chest feels like it’s on fire. The torch he’d kept for Taehyung had all but burst, exploding into thousands of tiny flares inside of Yoongi. 

When Taehyung awakes, tired from the little sleep they’d managed to catch, Yoongi tucks his hair behind his ears for him. There are dozens of thoughts that come to mind, as to what he could tell Taehyung, or share with him. Ultimately, he simply settles on holding Taehyung close and indulging in five minutes more wrapped up in each other.