Archive of Our Own

Truth be told, it was only a matter of time.

Taehyung knows this, of course, if the constant weight on his chest, getting more familiar each passing day, was anything to go by. He was planning on doing it anyway, he just wasn’t counting on the possibility of it going like this. 

Vaguely, as he stares at the dimly lit screen of his phone, seconds away from blacking out, he wonders if he could have stopped it. He tries to tap his screen back to life, but his fingers give up halfway there and he can’t find it in himself to move. He’s been like that for the past few days–eleven, if Taehyung’s math is correct. And he’s been counting very carefully, so it must be. 

If Namjoon hadn’t dragged him to that bar, selling the idea to him in the mere three seconds it took him to mumble out an, It’s our day off, Tae, innocent eyes well set on his face, maybe he could have stopped it then. Or maybe, if he’d stopped after the fifth shot when he felt his skin starting to go numb, maybe he would’ve at least taken a moment to think about it, a moment to back down while he still could. Maybe, if he had just told him when they were eighteen and Taehyung first noticed the way his heartbeat picked up when his best friend walked in the room, maybe he wouldn’t feel so miserable now. 

As he rests his chin against his arm, letting out another defeated sigh, he wonders if he really had any power over the series of events that led him to send that text.

I’m in love with yiu, the text still says, alcohol adding one too many wrong letters to his sentences, youre so stupifd and i want t o kiss your face. 

He wishes he could fool himself into thinking he ever stood a chance to take those words to his grave. 

Because yes, Taehyung could try and blame it on that sixth shot all he wanted, but he knows it’s pointless. Deep down, he knows it’s nothing but a sad attempt to excuse his actions. To make him feel a little less guilty about ruining his most important friendship –potentially ruining, yes, but ruining nonetheless. 

It wasn’t about the level of alcohol in his bloodstream or listening to Namjoon’s words telling him to put the phone down. No, it wasn’t about any of that. For Taehyung, it has always been about Jeongguk.

The first time he noticed that what he felt for his best friend was not-so-platonic after all, was on his eighteenth birthday. Jeongguk had attempted to make him something, claiming that he refused to buy something that would hold no emotional value. He’d sat Taehyung down on one of the stools by the counter, forcing him to watch hours and hours of Jeongguk struggling to bake him a birthday cake. 

 It wasn’t anything close to torture, in fact, it was so far from it that to this day, Taehyung still considers it one of his best birthdays. Watching Jeongguk running around the kitchen in panic, tongue peeking out in concentration as he tried to decorate his masterpiece. Taehyung had watched him quietly, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as his best friend tried his best to make his cake look good. 

In the end, it was perfect. The frosting kept sliding off to the side, looking stickier than it probably should, and his name written on bright purple icing looked like an entirely different word, but Taehyung thought it was perfect anyway. Jeongguk might not have been the best baker–and he definitely, definitely wasn’t–but he has always been Taehyung’s best friend. 

That night, Taehyung went back home with three-quarters of the world’s most special cake, and his heart full. 

After that, he’d tried to tell him many times, but it never felt like it was right. One time, he even managed to mutter out the words during one of their movie nights, Jeongguk’s head resting on his lap. Taehyung had said it, carefully and probably too quietly, and the room was silent for a while. He’d waited a few seconds and then waited some more, until eventually giving up and leaning over only to find Jeongguk soundly asleep. So Taehyung had let him sleep, fingers gently playing with his hair as he brushed the disappointment off, telling himself that it was okay, that he’ll do it some other time. 

In hindsight, it was really impressive how he’d managed to shove the words back in, keeping them there safely throughout the years. A part of him was okay with them coming out like this, drowning out the part of him that knew he could have done it better. Thought that maybe if he’d waited a little longer, he could have at least tried to. 

But for a short, very brief moment, he felt relieved. Enough to down the next two shots the bartender offered him, fingers tingling when he reached for the tiny cup again, throat burning as he drank it empty. Downed three more when his phone buzzed in his hand, with a short, we’ll talk later, Tae lighting up his screen.

And it was radio silence after that. 

He only knows the word for it because he specifically looked it up, learning all about how nowadays the word would be ghosting with an intense google search of ‘what to do when your best friend ignores you after you confessed’. It was pointless, disappointing, and a little bit ridiculous, and Taehyung found himself closing the tab in frustration because find another friend just wasn’t cutting it for him. 

So instead, he’s been trying to focus on something else, telling himself that Jeongguk wouldn’t leave him just like that. Taehyung sighs again. He’s probably just overreacting, and this is just a work thing. Jeongguk is just off handling things, as he likes to call it. 

This is what they do. It’s their thing. So theoretically speaking, Taehyung shouldn’t even be freaking out about it. Because Jeongguk will come back, as he always does. And Taehyung will pretend to be mad at him for as long as it takes Jeongguk to break into a smile, big and unrestrained, dimples melting Taehyung’s anger away. 

It’s happened before, more times than Taehyung would like to remember.

So he takes a deep breath, convincing himself that this is just a work thing. That Jeongguk will be back before he knows it because he didn’t ghost him, as the internet says. Tries to convince himself that he didn’t just lose his best friend over a drunk text. He tries, and tries, and tries– even though his heart hasn’t calmed down since he first felt his phone go off. 

He barely even hears the first time Namjoon calls him, his eyes focused on the now-black screen of his phone. And then comes his voice again, softly, “Tae?”

“Hm?”

“You okay over there?”

Taehyung hums again, head still resting over his arm, skin tingling where it’s starting to go numb. He hears Namjoon laugh, probably relishing in Taehyung’s self-imposed misery, even though he doesn’t think Namjoon is the kind of person to do that. He’s known him long enough to know that he’s not. 

“I hope you know I’m trying really hard not say I told you so,” he says. 

“You're not doing a very good job,” he snarks but lets out a giggle anyway. "But thanks, hyung.”

“I know.” 

He closes his eyes when he feels Namjoon patting his head, a sigh leaving him when he thinks about how pathetic he must look, lying over the small table at their only staff room, his co-worker gently comforting him. 

The moment shatters when Namjoon swats him on the head. “Now stop moping. They’re waiting for you in Aid two.”

“Who is?” Taehyung asks, head flying off the desk as he sits up. “Why? I was about to leave.”

Namjoon stops on his way to the couch, only to stare at him for a moment, a chuckle flying past his lips before he falls back until he's sprawled all over it, long limbs hanging over the armrest. It’s a small couch. Namjoon is a big man. It almost makes Taehyung laugh. 

"I don't know man, they just asked me to tell you." 

Taehyung’s lip juts out, and Namjoon lets out an amused sigh. 

“Fine. It was a really tall guy with these huge biceps like, woah. They were probably bigger than my face, Tae. I’m not kidding, I was only a little bit scared but–”

Taehyung snorts, shaking his head. 

Namjoon raises an arm then, until it's half-shielding his face as he shifts on the couch. He seems to find a comfortable position and Taehyung can’t do anything but stare at him, frown deepening when he mumbles out a “Mhmkay, g’night Tae. Please don’t get kidnapped, you’re on cleaning duty tomorrow.” 

It’s not long until his snores cut through the room. 

Taehyung shakes his head as he rises to his feet before begrudgingly making his way to the parking lot. It’s pitch black outside, dark enough that he can barely see the man Namjoon mentioned, standing in front of the ambulance. Taehyung feels shivers run down his spine, but he doesn’t let it stop him. He stops, ready to run back to the safety of the staff room, although he doubts Namjoon will be of any help. His shoulders relax when the man turns around and Taehyung recognizes him as one of Jeongguk’s men. He doesn’t know his name, but he’s sure he’s seen him around. He remembers the muscles. 

“So,” Taehyung says when he reaches him, sticking his fists deep into his pockets as he tries to shield himself from the cold autumn night. He looks a lot taller now that Taehyung is standing closer to him, and he straightens his back, trying to act like he’s not at all intimidated. “The old man wants to see me?”

Muscles doesn’t seem to find his joke funny, but Taehyung keeps smiling anyway. It’s a good reference. He’s proud of it. 

“Where is he?” he asks then, his insides clenching. 

In return, he gets a head nod towards the vehicle’s doors, and Taehyung purses his lips before making his way to them. 

Jeongguk is standing with his back to him, so he doesn’t notice him right away, and Taehyung takes it as an opportunity to prepare himself. Taehyung leans against the backdoors, watching Jeongguk wince around what seems to be a bad shoulder. He tries to move it again, this time stretching his neck to the side, and winces a little louder. 

Taehyung stands there, unmoving. Mostly because he’s afraid that if he makes even the smallest sound, Jeongguk will notice him and then he’ll absolutely have to go in. He gives himself the extra moments, the moments where he can pretend this is still his best friend showing up so Taehyung can patch him up and complain about him being reckless, moments where he can forget about ever sending that text. 

For a split second, he considers the possibility of running away, wonders if he can sneak out around the ambulance, and hide for as long as it takes Jeongguk to give up and go home. This idea is quickly trashed when he feels Muscles behind him, and when Taehyung looks over his shoulder, he sees him standing in true thug fashion, arms crossed over his chest and all. 

He clears his throat, and Jeongguk’s head snaps to him, features softening when he recognizes him, the faintest grin tugging at his lips. Taehyung steps into the ambulance, ducking so his head doesn’t hit the roof until he’s all the way in. 

His first instinct is to start moving, to close the distance between them, and calm the shaking of his heart. But he stays put in his place, planting his feet down as stops, keeping his distance. It’s not much, of course, since the ambulance is barely big enough to fit a gurney, but this will have to do. Just a few feet–just in case Jeongguk wants him to.

Jeongguk turns around then, and only when he’s fully facing him does Taehyung take in the state of his face. 

There’s a cut over the arch of his brow, a smear of blood trailing across his cheekbone. He notices the split lip when Jeongguk tries to say something, hand waving awkwardly before it falls back down.

A snort flies past his own lips, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Distantly, he wonders if it’s weird that he feels relieved to see him like this, sort of, only a little. He doesn’t like seeing his best friend’s face covered in dried up blood, of course, but Jeongguk showing up like this feels almost normal. It sends a warm feeling through his body, knowing that Jeongguk still comes to him first, even after drunk texts and days of silence. It calms Taehyung enough to speak. 

“You come into my house,” he starts, putting on his best rendition of an Italian accent, fingers grazing his chin for dramatic effect, “on the day my daughter is to be married… ”

Jeongguk’s brows furrow in confusion for a moment, and then he’s relaxing again, head shaking when he snorts, “Again?”

“And you ask me to do murder. For money.” he continues, proudly as he sends a wink his way. 

“How many references are you gonna make?” Jeongguk asks, attempting to sound annoyed, but the smile on his face gives him away.

Taehyung counts it as a win. 

“Buckle up, Jeony boy. I’ve been rehearsing these past few days.” he clears his throat again, going back into character. “What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? If you’d come to me in friendship–”

“You realize that makes you the Godfather right?”

Taehyung considers it for a second, shoulders slumping when he realizes Jeongguk might just have a point. He huffs, “Hm, you’re right. I’d be the world’s worst thug though. You should be the Don.”

“I don’t know, I always thought I was more of a Michael kind of guy.”

Taehyung pouts, “But I don’t like him.”

“He was nice!” Jeongguk complains. 

“For like thirty minutes! You know what, it was probably even less than that,” he shoots, frown deepening when he adds, “Please don’t be like Michael. I’ll cry.”

Jeongguk nods, eyes drifting to the floor as they fall quiet. Under the clear lighting of the ambulance, Taehyung can see how tired he looks. The darkened skin under his eyes are a dead giveaway, and Taehyung feels a pang of guilt wash over him when he finally sees it, the way his shoulders are slouching, how he’s holding onto the safety bar for balance.

“Hey,” Jeongguk suddenly calls, his voice coming out an octave lower as it cuts through the silence, sounding harsher. Taehyung’s head snaps up in alarm, and it takes him a moment to realize he’s not talking to him. “Close the door,” he instructs Muscles. 

Without turning around, he hears Muscles do as he’s told, and soon enough the ambulance is a lot quieter, Jeongguk’s voice going back to normal when he speaks again. 

“Come here?” he asks, softer this time, making Taehyung’s skin tingle all over. “You’re too far away and I don’t like it.”

Hesitating for only a second, he takes the first step. Stops again, mind filled with memories of the text, how days had gone by with no response, how Taehyung had started feeling like he was going crazy checking his phone every ten seconds. 

A sigh, and then another step. 

It’s not long until he’s standing right in front of Jeongguk, eyes roaming over his features, taking a closer look at his injuries, only leaning in slightest bit, still keeping his distance. He reaches over until his fingers are hovering over Jeongguk’s cheek, careful not to touch him still. 

It’s silly, that he feels this nervous when they’ve been in this exact situation a million times before. Jeongguk’s come to him with broken ribs, cuts all over his arms, deeper ones on his stomach, but never his face. He’d always been good enough to avoid getting hurt there. 

It makes Taehyung jittery, an uneasy feeling settling at the pit of his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Jeongguk asks quietly, almost in a whisper. 

Taehyung lets out a sigh as he leans back, and he shakes his head slowly, a hint of a smile threatening to break out. But he holds it back, clicking his tongue. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. 

He misses the way Jeongguk’s eyes sparkle at the question, features softening as the lightest shade of pink takes over his cheeks. “Not right now, no.”

There’s a soft smile tugging at Jeongguk’s lips when Taehyung finally looks up, and even with the smudged blood all over them, it makes something inside of him burst up in flames. Warily, he leans in closer this time, examining him for another moment. 

Under any other circumstances, he would be more than happy to have a free pass to stare at Jeongguk like this, their faces so close together that he can tell when Jeongguk holds in a breath as Taehyung moves a hand down to his chin, tilting it sideways to get a better look at his face. He looks at the cut over his brow, purposely avoiding Jeongguk’s eyes as he does so, holding in a breath of his own. Then, slowly, he reaches for Jeongguk’s shirt. 

And pinches him hard on the side. 

“You can’t disappear on me like that!”

Jeongguk jerks back as if he’d been burnt, one hand covering his ear as he does so, eyes big in alarm.

“I didn’t mean to!” he chokes out. “It wasn’t planned and then we had to leave, and then I lost my phone and–”

“You lost your phone?”

“I mean, yes, it was an accident. But–” 

“I’d hit you but you’re already hurt enough.”

“Thank you,” then he adds, “I think?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes drifting to his feet as he looks down. He gets an idea. “Is your foot okay?”

“Uh, yes? Why, why are–” his words are cut off by a hiss, face scrunching up when Taehyung steps on his foot for the second time. 

“It’s what you deserve.”

“Fine, okay, I’ll take it. Just come here, come on.” he chuckles, nodding through another wince. 

It’s easy to fall into him when Jeongguk reaches out, tugging at his wrist until Taehyung takes another step forward, the last step. And when he does–when he’s finally, finally close enough–Jeongguk tugs him forward once again, this time with a hand on his waist, staying there even moments after their bodies are pressed together. Taehyung doesn’t miss the wince Jeongguk lets out when he circles his arms around him, chin propped on Taehyung’s shoulder.

Like this, with his hands wrapped around him as tightly as he can, he realizes it’s always been easy.

Loving Jeongguk, Taehyung thinks, has always been easy for him. 

It was easy back then, when they spent entire weekends curled up on Jeongguk’s couch watching anything and everything on TV. It was easy even when Jeongguk first decided to follow in on his father’s footsteps, and all the times after that. It’s easy now, when he brings him takeout after a long day at work. It’s easy when they fight–and it’s especially easy when he doesn’t want it to be–even when he shows up covered in bruises every once in a while and holds Taehyung close until he can’t quite breathe. 

He wonders if it’s been easy for Jeongguk, too. 

“I already feel better,” Jeongguk mumbles against his shoulder. 

Slowly, so as not to accidentally hurt him, Taehyung raises his arms until they’re around Jeongguk’s back, holding him closer to him and then coming down to rest on the back of his small waist. 

He can feel the sigh Jeongguk lets out even moments before he hears it, the rise and fall of his chest from where it’s pressed gently against Taehyung’s own, and he allows himself a moment. Just one moment where he forgets all about ever sending that text. One moment of pretending that Jeongguk won’t lean back and stay away from him because now he knows.  

“It’s like magic.”

Taehyung can't stop the snort that comes out of him, and he holds him a little tighter then, eyes falling shut as he takes it all in. “It’s Oxytocin, actually. Nothing magical about that.”

"Is that the happy pill or whatever?" 

Taehyung leans back to look at his face, surprised to find a totally serious Jeongguk instead of the teasing one he was expecting. He decides to make the most of it and begins explaining, "Not exactly. It's not a pill it's like–like. Something your brain produces to reduce your cortisol levels.”

“So like the pain reliever one? You kept repeating that during your boards.”

“No, no. Those are called Endorphins, these are about lowering your–wait, you still remember that? My boards were years ago.”

“Of course,” Jeongguk says like it’s obvious. “I always listen to you.”

Sometimes, Taehyung wonders if there’s more to Jeongguk’s words. Some other times–and these times come more often than the other ones–Taehyung wonders if there’s less to them.

It’s the way Jeongguk acts around him, laid back and relaxed, fleeting gazes and touches that last. It’s the barely-there kisses he presses to the nape of his neck at random hours of the day, or the way he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and touch. It’s the way he tells Taehyung he loves him in the most casual way, over fights or make-ups. 

Sometimes, when he’s convinced himself that he’s just trying to read too much into it–blaming it on the words he’s been wanting to hear for so long–he wonders if his own mind could be so cruel.

“So,” Jeongguk prompts again, lips pressed into a smile. “Cortisol?”

“Right. Cortisol. Those are stress hormones. So like, bad ones. You don’t want those.”

“Do I want Oxytocins, then?”

Taehyung nods in return, laughing when Jeongguk’s frown comes back in full force, head tilting to the side in confusion. “Because?”

“They help lower your heart rate and blood pressure.” Jeongguk blinks once, twice, waiting. “They calm your heart?”

“By hugging?”

“Among other things, sure.”

“Mhm, that makes sense then,” Jeongguk concludes. “That it’s you, I mean. Hug me some more.”

Taehyung snorts, slapping his shoulder playfully. He only realizes what he’s done when Jeongguk cries out in pain, and he jumps back in an instant. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I forgot it was your shoulder.” 

Jeongguk tries to keep a straight face, maybe try and hold the pain in, but he winces again when Taehyung touches him, gentler this time. 

“Okay, okay, sit on the gurney, come on.” Jeongguk does as instructed, and Taehyung doesn’t miss the smirk on his face when he asks him to take off his shirt. “Shut up Jeongguk.”

“Going too fast, aren’t we?” he jokes but starts to unbutton his shirt anyway. 

Taehyung waits for him to be done, eyes moving hurriedly around the place, trying to force his cheeks to cool down. His mild panic comes to a halt when he catches something on the curve of Jeongguk’s shoulder, his eyes settling on the small scar. It’s a new one, Taehyung notes, judging by the thick and pink skin surrounding it. 

The scars remaining on Jeongguk’s skin are a constant reminder of his fights, yet Taehyung finds himself not minding them all that much when it gets them here. 

Mindlessly, his fingers reach out to Jeongguk’s scars, following the trail up and down his arm, slowly, as if he’s in a trance. He’s vaguely aware of Jeongguk’s eyes on him, feeling the weight of his gaze more than he sees it, but he keeps going anyway. 

Stopping only when his fingers end up on one of Jeongguk’s tattoos, he lets himself smile. To this day, Taehyung still remembers the day Jeongguk decided to get the first one done, asking him to tag along. At first, Taehyung hadn’t been a fan of the idea–his dread of needles much bigger than the need to support his best friend–but even then, he’d said yes anyway. Sitting next to Jeongguk through the appointment was a lot easier than he thought it would be, and even with Taehyung’s initial distaste for the whole thing, he found himself having a good time, spending a few good hours holding Jeongguk’s hand. It was worth it, Taehyung still thinks, every second hearing the awful buzzing of the needle, it was all worth it when Jeongguk’s face broke into a smile, bright and huge and only for Taehyung to see. 

And he’d been happy. So, so happy. 

He snaps out of it with a shake of his head, clears his throat, and tries again. 

“Can you move your shoulder for me?”

It takes a moment for Jeongguk to move, eyes still set on Taehyung’s own, but he eventually does. His face twists with pain, another hiss leaving his lips until Jeongguk presses them shut, holding it in. Taehyung reaches out a hand, carefully setting his fingers on Jeongguk’s collarbone, gently pressing. 

“Does it hurt when I do that?”

“Just a little,” Jeongguk mumbles, his voice calm. 

He’s not surprised to find Jeongguk already staring when he looks up, but it still feels like every bit of air is being ripped from his lungs, and even when he looks away, Taehyung feels like he’s being studied. Like Jeongguk is trying to decipher something that Taehyung is a stranger to. Like maybe, if he stares at Taehyung long enough, he’ll eventually break, sputtering all his feelings out. 

The irony is definitely not lost on him. 

"So, um. What was it this time?" he asks slowly, trying to lighten the air between them. "Were you driving the runaway car? Or did you rob a bank? Oh wait, wait! Were you playing loan-shark again?" 

“You know I don’t do that.”

“I know,” Taehyung admits, a smile spreading across his face. “But I like to imagine sometimes. Keeps me entertained.”

Bringing his hands down, he catches Jeongguk’s wrist as he checks his pulse before moving to his elbow. Carefully going through all the steps in his head, distracting himself for the quick beat of his heart.

“Don’t you have a private doctor of your own you can bother with these things?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Nope. Just you. But even if I did, you’re my favorite anyways.”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“It’s close enough.” he refutes. It’s really not, but it makes Taehyung smile all the same. “Plus, you’re the best paramedic I know.”

Taehyung snorts. “That doesn’t count, I’m the only paramedic you know.”

“Maybe.”

He lets go of Jeongguk’s arm, eyes coming back up to meet Jeongguk’s. “You should get an X-Ray just in case, but it doesn’t look like anything ice and painkillers can’t cure.” 

“You know what? It suddenly doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.” Jeongguk chuckles, shoulders shaking before he suddenly stops, face twisting again. “Nevermind.”

Taehyung lets a snort run past his lips as he leans over to grab an ice pack, setting it over Jeongguk’s hurt shoulder, his smile only growing when Jeongguk winces again. He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, come on, it’s not even that cold.”

“You wanna try?” Jeongguk asks, brows arching, hand moving as if he’s going to remove the ice pack. 

Taehyung knows he’s joking, but he takes a step back anyway, hands coming up into fists. “Try me, Jeony boy.”

He snorts, chin tilting up. “If only you’d let me.”

His fists still in the air, and for a long, everlasting second, Taehyung struggles to breathe. 

This time, Jeongguk’s eyes hold something different in them. This time, it feels a little softer, like he’s holding something deep within himself and he’s just trying to let Taehyung know somehow, without having to say it out loud. 

His eyes don’t falter when Taehyung’s arms eventually drop down, and it keeps doing things to him, when Jeongguk looks at him like that; like Taehyung is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen–like he could just look at him forever. 

It’s in moments like these, where he finds it hard to believe that whatever they have is purely one-sided. He just wishes it didn’t make his heart jump as it does. Jeongguk is his best friend, he needs to get over it. 

“We should probably talk about it, shouldn’t we?” Jeongguk mutters, and it’s enough to break Taehyung out of his daze. 

He blinks, trying to shove the thoughts to the back of his mind, so far back he can’t reach them anymore. 

“Talk about what?” 

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow at him, and Taehyung frowns, genuinely confused. His mind is a mess, going into panic mode every thirty seconds and it’s entirely Jeongguk’s fault. 

“Really?” he asks with a laugh, leaning back on the gurney. “We’re just gonna ignore the fact that you drunk-texted me to tell me you love me?”

Oh.

Talk about that. 

“Yup,” Taehyung says, pressing his lips together. “We are definitely ignoring that.”

He wonders if he could lie his way out of it. Just a small little lie so Jeongguk would stop looking at him like that. 

Jeongguk huffs, sitting up straight. “No, no. I think we should ta–”

“I think we should clean that busted lip you got there,” he cuts in, turning around to grab the first aid kit. Jeongguk starts to complain again, and Taehyung adds, “you know, um. Because if we don’t, we’re risking infection. And then we might have to sew that pretty little mouth of yours shut.”

It seems to do the trick, because Jeongguk shuts up, head tilting to the side. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I’m the doctor here, how would you know?”

“You’re a paramedic.” Jeongguk corrects, eyes daring. “You just said it’s not the same.”

Taehyung huffs. “You just said it’s close enough!”

“You won’t really sew my mouth shut, right?”

“It’s starting to sound really tempting, I’m not gonna lie.”

Jeongguk snorts, shaking his head in disbelief as Taehyung sits down by his side, crossing one of his legs under the other. Carefully, he starts to open the kit, grabbing Jeongguk’s chin with his free hand to keep him in place. It’s not that big of a cut, in fact, Taehyung wouldn’t even call it big, either. Only taking up the very corner of his lip. 

Taehyung clicks his tongue, it shouldn’t even hurt, yet Jeongguk keeps wincing when he so much as breathes near him. 

“You know,” he starts with a laugh, taking the box of swabs out. “You keep showing up here and I might have to charge you, Jeon.”

“Go ahead,” Jeongguk chuckles, sound coming in between groans, “Name your price, Kim. I'll give it to you in a heartbeat.”

He’s proud to say he only stops functioning for half a second this time. 

It’s probably because he’s already used to Jeongguk dropping comments like that, but he still counts it as a win. Ignoring the part of him that notices that Jeongguk’s been doing that a lot more often tonight. 

Instead of dealing with that, he chooses to make another bad reference.

“That’s it? No ‘it’s either your brains or your signature’ line or anything like that? Or, well, maybe not my signature, more like–my medical knowledge. No?”

“You should start watching other movies.”

Taehyung arches a brow. “You should stop disappearing on me and maybe I will.”

He didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but he doesn’t take it back either, focusing on applying the lotion to the swab. 

“Okay,” he begins, bringing it closer to the cut. "You ready? This is going to sting a little." 

Jeongguk scoffs, says, "I think I can handle a little–oh my god. Fuck. Shit. Sorry, I'm sorry. Holy shit." 

Taehyung laughs, biting down a smile as he presses the swab gently to the corner of his lip. 

Slowly, Jeongguk’s hand tightens over Taehyung’s knee, gripping it harder with every hiss he lets out. They stay silent through the whole thing, even when Taehyung moves on to treat the cut over his eyebrow, turning around to grab a clean cloth, pressing it gently to the wound–even then, Jeongguk’s hand doesn’t budge from his thigh, and neither of them say a word. 

It should make him nervous, it usually would. But for some reason, tonight, it just makes him laugh. Another wince comes and Taehyung holds back the urge to roll his eyes, maybe even hit him again, just once; hard enough that he stops acting like he’s just come home from war, soft enough that it doesn’t cause him any more pain. 

Taehyung breathes out, slowly, gripping the swab tightly in his hand, pressing it gently against the arch of Jeongguk’s brow. Says, “Quit being such a baby.”

Jeongguk narrows his eyes at him, busted lip peeking out into a pout. 

“Is this how you treat all your patients?”

A chuckle flies past his lips, and he can't hold it back any longer, rolling his eyes when Jeongguk's pout only deepens. He sits up straight, ignoring the way his heart jumps when Jeongguk lets out another laugh. 

“My patients are way stronger than you,” and then he adds, “You really are the lamest thug I’ve ever seen.” 

“I’m the only thug you've ever seen.” Jeongguk refutes, copying his words from earlier with a satisfied glint in his eyes.

Taehyung arches a brow. “Are you, though? Cause’ I’ve seen Muscles over there.”

“Muscles?”

“Mhm, Muscles.” he repeats, “Namjoon ran into him earlier. Couldn’t stop talking about his biceps, so. Muscles. It fits.”

It’s not long until he’s done cleaning the last cut on Jeongguk’s face. Leaning in closer for one last look, checking if everything is taken care of. When he feels satisfied with his work, he leans back, raising a hand without thinking. He stops mid-air, unsure of what to do. Jeongguk, however, nuzzles his cheek against the palm of Taehyung’s hand, gently leaning into his touch, and they stay like that for a while. 

Slowly, Jeongguk turns his head to the side, pressing his lips softly to Taehyung’s skin. 

“I’m here now, you know.”

Taehyung quirks up a brow, pinching Jeongguk’s cheek lightly. “Really? Huh, weird. I didn’t notice.”

“Can you not?” Jeongguk complains, but Taehyung doesn’t miss the grin on his face. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Okay, fine, let’s do serious. It’s very good to have you back, Guk. Pinky promise.”

He chuckles, “You say that as if I’ve been gone for a month.”

“Eleven days is almost half a month,” it comes out way faster than it probably should have, so Taehyung quickly adds, “but not that I’ve been keeping count, or whatever.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk says, looking down. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“It’s fine, Guk, just don’t do it again. Please?”

Jeongguk nods, his eyes still glued to his hands. 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Taehyung takes the opportunity to quietly put away the first aid kit, getting up to dispose of the used cloths. When Jeongguk speaks again, it’s with Taehyung’s back to him. 

“I don’t want to ignore it.”

It’s easy for him to hide the way his hands come to a halt over the small trash can, and he lets out a quiet breath. Slowly, like he’s afraid to make too much noise. 

“You’re my best friend,” he adds when Taehyung turns back around, frowning, and he’s about to say something when Jeongguk starts speaking again. “You’re my best friend, which is why I think we shouldn’t ignore it, Tae.”

He deflates, sirens going off in his head as he tries to think. 

On one hand, he figures Jeongguk already knows so there’s no point in trying to hide it. But on the other hand, he doesn’t really feel like reminding him is a good idea, either. He wonders if Jeongguk would notice if he just runs out of the ambulance. 

“I don’t want to ignore it.” Jeongguk repeats. “I really, I just–I can’t.”

“Well, I do,” Taehyung says, stepping back until his back hits the cold wall of the vehicle. 

“Tae–”

“Nope.” he insists, avoiding Jeongguk’s eyes. “We are ignoring it.”

“But I–”

“Just humor me for once, will you?”

“I can’t,” Jeongguk says, his voice soft. It makes something inside of Taehyung break. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about, and it’s driving me a little bit crazy so can we please just–”

It breaks a little bit more until it’s shattering on the floor, rupturing into a million different pieces. There’s no use running, Jeongguk would surely notice. He doesn’t think Muscles will let him get that far, either, so he gives up. He gives in. 

“Listen,” Taehyung starts, arms falling down at his sides. “Fine, yes. I might be a little bit in love with you. I’ve been in love with you ever since you baked me that god awful cake that kept melting off to the side. And now you know. I was drunk and it happened and to be honest with you Guk, I’ve been trying to tell you for a really long time now? It didn’t go as planned, obviously, but you are my best friend, so if we could just–move on then that would be awesome.” 

For what feels like a never-ending moment, Jeongguk lets out a deep breath, eyes still set on Taehyung’s, the corner of his lips tugging up into the tiniest smile. One he almost doesn’t see. One he doesn’t understand even when he does see it.

A moment passes, and then Jeongguk finally speaks. 

“And you chose the words ‘you’re so stupid and I want to kiss your face’ to say it?”

“Listen, I–” Taehyung opens his mouth to respond, only to close it again as he stumbles over his words. He tries again. “I just–”

“How long?” Jeongguk cuts him off with another question, eyes coming back up to meet Taehyung’s. 

“Nu-uh, no way.” he starts, shaking his head furiously. “See, we’re not gonna keep talking about this. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough so, like I said, if we could just–”

“For me, it’s been forever.”

Taehyung stares at him for a moment as the words register in his brain, mouth halfway opened, his hand still hovering in the air. 

"It's not a secret that I've liked you for a long time," he says with a shrug. “I thought you knew?”

“You thought–” he stumbles over his own words, trying to get them out as fast as he can. Trying to understand even in the slightest bit. “I didn’t. I thought you were ghosting me.”

Jeongguk stands up in a quick motion, as if he hadn’t just spent the past hour or so wincing at every move, and Taehyung is about to make a comment, probably tease him a little about his outstanding acting skills, when he suddenly stops. 

“And you call me stupid,” Jeongguk says, tucking away a stray strand of hair behind Taehyung’s ear, his hand staying there even moments after he’s done, just holding him. Taehyung feels his breath hitch, eyes flicking to Jeongguk’s rosy lips as they move.

He doesn’t register how close they really are until Taehyung’s heart picks up in his chest, and his eyes drift to the floor as he shies away, only then noticing that Jeongguk’s holding his hands in the space between them. 

And then, quietly, he says, “I don’t know when it started, or how. I just knew that I looked at you, and you made me happy. You still do. So tell me, how long?”

Taehyung sighs, eyes still set on their hands. “Like two years? Maybe three, I don’t know.”

“Only three? Please, that’s nothing.”

It gets a laugh out of him, and suddenly Taehyung is choking on the next one, and before he knows it, they’re bursting in a fit of giggles, locked away in an ambulance in the middle of the night. 

“Hey,” Taehyung calls with a soft nudge to Jeongguk’s arm, “I think I want to kiss you.”

“I think maybe you should.”

It doesn’t take much for Taehyung to lean forward, catching Jeongguk’s lips between his own, brushing their mouths together at just the right angle. It’s slow, the way Jeongguk kisses back, making it easy for Taehyung to melt right into him.

His hands move until they’re cupping Jeongguk’s face, and it’s dizzying, the way Jeongguk chases after him when he pulls back to breathe. 

“I am not kissing your hand, by the way. Just so you know.” 

“Personally, I think you should kiss my mouth instead, but that’s just me,” he mumbles as he leans in closer, the smuggest grin on his face. 

Hands tightening around his waist, Jeongguk inches over, lips ghosting against Taehyung’s own, and he feels his knees go weak. 

“Wait,” he says again, frown deepening. “Does this make me Kay?”

Jeongguk snorts. “Shut up.”

“I don’t like Kay.” Taehyung continues with a pout. “She’s boring.”

“Mhm, you’re a lot more fun than Kay anyway.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Jeongguk laughs as he moves in to bump their noses together, making his heart melt a little bit more, and it’s easy to press the next giggle against Jeongguk’s waiting lips, heart soothing as he does so. 

It’s just easy.