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Jeongguk hates smocking. One inhale of the poison and he’s already hacking up a lung.
“Oh, you bitchy baby, drop it if you can’t handle it.”
Jeongguk frowns. “Jimin-ssi, no one fucking asked.”
“I can’t have you die on me, big bitchy baby ‘Gukk.”
Hoseok, who up until now had been slouching on the car’s hood, hollers and almost swallows his tongue.
Jeongguk could deck him. Could deck them both and throw them in the gutter, but then he won’t have anyone to call in case he passes out drunk on the sidewalk, butt naked with a foggy brain, maybe a dog licking his ass cheek thinking it a meaty bone. That’s like, one of his biggest fears.
He swallows his pride (and almost chokes holy shit), drops the cig and stomps viciously on it.
“Smoking is overrated anyway,” Jimin says and takes another drag on his own cigarette. “Not sure why they keep romanticizing lung cancer in films.”
“Dying young is hot,” Hoseok pipes up from behind. His bloodshot eyes are well hidden under his sunglasses. Hyung can be one adventurous dumbass with his liquor, and Jeongguk worships the dude.
“I think living up to hundred years is hotter,” Jeongguk says.
“Fuck that, if I’m not warming my grave by thirty, you have my full consent for blowing my head off, preferably in my sleep, Jiminie you better respect my word.”
“Hyung, that’s five years from now.”
“Exactly.”
Jimin puts out his cig and tosses it in the trash bin ten feet away. His dark coat is baggy and warm, and the specs slip down his nose. When he laughs especially wide, his tongue barbell catches light and blinds Jeongguk. Jimin is a breathing walking mess of facial piercings. Jeongguk is content with the seven holes in his ears.
Hoseok retreats to the passenger seat and passes out.
He checks his watch for the third time in the last minute, rocks back and forth on his heels, limbs tense and itchy. Jimin caresses his arm, takes one step closer and kisses his cheek.
“You look splendid, Jeongguk-ssi.”
Jimin smells of deep flowery soap and smoke, a peculiar combination that works well for him. “We haven’t seen each other in two weeks,” Jeongguk says, “What if I no longer look like the guy he got together with, I mean, I have a beard now.”
“A stubble Jeongguk, that’s a stubble and you need to shave.”
“You’re embarrassing me, mom.”
“Call me mom again and I’ll gut you with my pocket knife.” But Jimin only kisses his cheek a second time and sends him on his merry way.
“You look fucking amazing, sweetheart, you’re one gorgeous motherfucker, never forget,” Jimin yells after him.
Jeongguk grins and disappears around the corner. It’s twelve p.m, therefore classes must have wrapped up for a while now. He shoulders his way through a group of undead looking freshmen, saves a girl from almost walking into a stop sign by pulling her by the collar, gets saved in return from almost getting ran over by a truck. Sweet karma is sweet.
Winter break stretched for two long weeks, and Jeongguk couldn’t glimpse his beloved in that period. Spending his breaks back home is the number one rule of all rules. Mother would personally take the five hours trip to Seoul and drag him home for precious family gatherings.
The opened wide doors loom in the distance, light student crowd walking out and brushing past him. Jeongguk retreats to a corner and looks out for loudly colored hair strands.
He’s watching a guy carrying heavy blank canvases when someone barrels into him and almost sends him toppling. Jeongguk hangs onto the wall. “Jesus.”
A shock of bright red hair burns into his retinas. Last time, it was blue. The time before it was a vivid warm yellow.
Taehyung manages to pull it off every time.
Jeongguk stares in shock before he gets forcibly pulled into a hug. Taehyung’s bag lands by his feet, and from the sound of the drop it would’ve probably broken his toes had it landed on him instead. He brings his arms up and hugs his boyfriend so hard he feels him wheezing and quacking.
“Kookie, I’m dying.”
“You’re dying in my arms, fuck, dude, I missed you.”
Taehyung giggles into his shoulder, nuzzles him until Jeongguk hesitantly lets him go. The moment he takes a tiny step back, Taehyung kisses him deeply, honey lemon tea filling his taste buds, which tells him Taehyung must’ve had a rough time with his flu.
“Juliet, we’re in public Juliet.”
“Romeo you asshole,” Taehyung says and hits his arm lightly. “Should’ve called me more often, I was deprived for two whole weeks.”
“I’m sorry, service is shit back home, how’s your cold?”
Taehyung coughs suddenly, and Jeongguk rubs his back. He places his palm on Taehyung’s forehead and his eyes widen. “What the hell are you doing attending classes with this fever? You’re burning up, tae.”
“I wanted to see you.”
Jeongguk’s ribs tighten in his chest. “I can always come to your place, you didn’t have to bother.”
Taehyung kisses him again, slower and longer this time. He wraps his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders, buries his face in Jeongguk’s neck and takes lungful of air. “I also had an important paper to submit.”
“So it wasn’t just about me,” Jeongguk teases.
“It has always been about you.”
“I really missed you, tae.”
Taehyung kisses his neck and shivers strike Jeongguk. Swiftly, he turns around and carries Taehyung on his back, their bags dangling from his forearm. Taehyung squeals but doesn’t ask to get put down.
“Is your roommate home?”
“Namjoon won’t be home until six,” Taehyung mumbles. “He has a meeting with his book club in the local library.”
“That fucking nerd,” Jeongguk says affectionately.
Taehyung secures his arms around Jeongguk and closes his eyes. Ignoring the curious glances, Jeongguk makes a detour towards Taehyung’s place and chats him up on the way there.
They don’t even make it three minutes down the street before a car honk makes them jump. Taehyung whispers, ‘jesus.’ Jeongguk senses erratic heartbeat against his back.
Jimin grins from the rolled down window. “Get in losers, we’re going to the ER, hobi hyung is dying.”
Hoseok sits projectile vomiting in a bag.
Jeongguk and Taehyung laugh, and together they head toward the car.