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taehyung stares across the table at where jimin sits. his head is leant on jeongguk’s shoulder, eyes closed, his smile small and blissful. his head rises and eyelids lift, mahogany irises meet taehyung’s. jimin’s eyes curl into crescents as he waves lightly at taehyung, who basks in it for a moment, basks in the light that jimin exudes. he allows himself a moment in the sun.
jimin leans up and whispers into jeongguk’s ear who turns to him and whispers back before dropping a kiss to his forehead.
taehyung feels the softness of the kiss like a bullet to his chest, he feels it like vines curling it’s way through his ribs and straining at his heart, he feels it like it imprints itself there, like a torturous reminder. jimin’s not in love with you, jimin doesn’t love you back. he swallows and turns to yoongi, who is already looking at him.
“taehyung-ah.” yoongi whispers and taehyung has to be careful, he has to tiptoe in fear of the cracks in his face deepening, becoming too obvious. yoongi has always been a safe place for taehyung, and yoongi might allow him to break.
because jimin was almost too easy to fall in love with for taehyung, with his smile that stretches across his cheeks, the way his eyes sparkle in the dimmest of light, the way he remembers every single thing that taehyung is frustrated about and hates it so much when anyone cries that he tries to take the hurt and absorb it into himself. the way he melts his body into taehyung’s every time they hug, the way his smaller frame fits so perfectly into his arms. the way he cares endlessly and wholly for taehyung because they are best friends.
(the curve of jimin’s jaw, his puffy morning eyes, how he sings taehyung to sleep when he’s drunk, taehyung could go on and on and on. )
and he’s in love.
and taehyung couldn’t be happier for him.
except—
except late at night when taehyung is alone in his room, where he can bite the sleeve of his jumper to try and quieten his sobs. except when yoongi and hoseok give him this look like they see right through him, like they see the raging storm of emotions that tear him apart every time jimin gushes to him about jeongguk.
taehyung loves jeongguk like a brother, would never blame him, he isn't a jealous person. but he can’t help the ache, he can’t help looking away, he can’t help splintering and scratching at the edges. can’t help sometimes wishing he hadn’t introduced the two and then hating himself for the errant thought.
jeongguk giggles, jimin and him are staring at something on his phone.
“seok-ah.” he hears yoongi murmur, just over the din of chatter that the restaurant provides. they’re at their weekly lunch, jeongguk and jimin, jin and namjoon, hoseok and yoongi.
taehyung.
(it stopped being jimin and taehyung a while ago, their names no longer in sequence, because jeongguk and jimin got together. so their names are separated now. it doesn’t matter, taehyung tells himself, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter.)
hoseok and yoongi have a hushed conversation whilst taehyung keeps his eyes on the patterned tablecloth in front of him, traces the patterns with his index finger. if only his life could be so uniform, so clean and simple. he listens to jin giggling about the lines in his upcoming drama, absorbing the attention of the table.
sometimes it feels like they all see, like they all know—
hoseok’s gaze flicks to him, taehyung feels it. “yoongi hyung, taehyungie and i were actually going to go shopping so we’ve got to run, guys.” taehyung’s head snaps up, they did have plans but those were for next week and he doesn’t understand and— oh. hoseok is smiling at him, ruffling a hand through his hair, but his eyes betray him, they’re sad and soft. taehyung doesn’t really want to go but he can’t stay.
they get that he can’t stay.
jimin laughs, sweet and high and loving, and he can’t stay.
“we’ll see you for noraebang next week, though!” hoseok adds.
yoongi rises and grabs his coat, “yeah. see you all next week.”
taehyung gets up mechanically and shoves his arms through his jacket, it’s cold and too small for him. everything right now just doesn’t seem to fit, why doesn’t anything fit? why can’t i just fucking feel like i fit anywhere—
“okay, it’s windy so don’t catch a cold. i hope you find some nice things.” namjoon speaks up, his hand slung on the back of jin’s chair. his eyes trained on taehyung’s.
“you okay, taehyung-ah?” jin says, his voice calm but slightly pleading.
—maybe they do see. maybe they all see how fragmented and numb he feels.
jimin can’t know, what if he knows, he can’t, he can’t, if he does it—
“yeah.” he replies, hoarse and empty. “i’m fine.”
jeongguk and jimin look up from the phone, the blue light dances across both their faces. “have fun guys! be prepared to get your asses kicked next week!” jeongguk pipes up.
“oh.” jimin frowns. “you’re leaving already?”
hoseok hums and links an arm with taehyung, “yeah we have plans.”
jimin smiles, “have fun! I’ll see you at home, taehyung-ah!” hoseok’s grip tightens a little as they walk quickly out. taehyung leaves with gazes singeing holes in his back and his heart leaning on the shoulder of someone else.
-
the wind is whipping and stings at taehyung’s eyes as they walk down the road, hoseok and yoongi are quiet, their hands intertwined, concern written all over their faces.
taehyung stops in the middle of an empty pavement.
“you didn’t have to do that.” he says, thank you echoing through his mind.
hoseok cards his fingers once through taehyung’s hair. “we know.”
yoongi looks at him, the weight of his gaze always so heavy and searching that taehyung has to look up. “we did it anyway, taehyung-ah.” he nods in reply, the wind had wiped away the smothering feeling that had clung to his skin but now everything is just overwhelming. the sky is blue but it’s cold. he’s wearing layer upon layer but his heart feels like it isn’t in his chest.
(his heart feels locked under warm smiles and small hands, under midnight cups of tea and movie marathons, under years of friendship, under years of wanting more.)
“can we— can we go home?” taehyung whispers.
“i’ll call a cab.” yoongi says quietly and taehyung feels such overwhelming relief that they know he doesn’t want to go back to his own apartment right now.
the silence is heavy as they wait, questions and answers and explanations hanging through the air and suffocating taehyung. he’s never said. never told anyone anything. never made a drunken confession or cried to one of his hyungs when jimin said he had a crush. he kept it where it’s always been, this secret hidden through the tune of friendship and platonic love.
it was never that for taehyung.
it was always that for jimin.
maybe that was part of the problem, taehyung sometimes thinks, you never told anyone. never told him.
he takes a deep, shuddering breath, tries to keep it wrapped up, deep within where it belongs, but lately the box around his gnawing feelings doesn’t feel like steel. it feels like tinfoil, like people have started to rip at it and peer in and respond with long hugs and kisses to his hair. with conversation open to confessions which taehyung ignores and changes the subject. with more pointed how are you’s and offers for sleepovers.
they clamber into the cab, taehyung leant up against a window and hoseok leaning against him a little, his other hand drawing circles on yoongi’s thigh.
taehyung watches the grey seoul buildings trickle past like the blur of paint on canvas, his memories washing past as the car rumbles on, he thinks about meeting jimin for the first time. he thinks about transferring to a new school, pursuing his love for photography and art, the faces all new and unfamiliar. the city was different with nothing that screamed anything like home, nothing like the warm summers he spent on his grandparents’ farm or nights watching the stars. then jimin had bound up to him, babbling about how much he liked taehyung’s leather jacket and asking whether he watched anime. taehyung had been overwhelmed for all of two seconds before responding in enthusiasm and shyly complimenting jimin’s bright orange hair, who had then subsequently pronounced them best friends and declared them soulmates for life.
he thinks about how difficult the past four years would’ve been without him. he thinks about jimin stroking his hair and going with him to his grandfather’s funeral, how he allowed taehyung to sleep in bed with him for a month to keep the bad dreams at bay. he thinks about them going to the same university and jimin attending his first photography showcase in a tux with flowers, pressing a kiss into his hair and hugging him so tight it left a jimin-sized indent on taehyung. he thinks about how he did the same back, watched jimin leap weightlessly around the stage and entrance the audience. he thinks about their friendship groups merging and threading together, taehyung and jimin as the connecters, always taehyung and jimin .
he thinks about how colourful jimin, how he filled taehyung's canvas of life with paint and patterns and made it so, so happy. he thinks about lazy sunday mornings after moving in together, jimin making the coffee just how he likes it and tapping the tip of his nose with a giggle.
he remembers thinking oh, oh.
i’m in love with you.
he remembers denying it and getting into short-lasting relationships, he remembers jimin never really getting into one until jeongguk. he remembers hope, despite him never confessing, he remembers his veins buzzing with hope.
taehyung doesn’t realise his vision is blurry until the edge of his jacket is wet with tears. he doesn’t dare let himself sniff because he hasn’t cried in front of anyone yet, that feels too real. it feels like genuinely, truly, he’s going to have to let go.
he’s going to have to acknowledge his broken heart.
(he’s going to have to get over it.)
the cab pulls up to yoongi and hoseok’s apartment building, they get out and hoseok pays the driver whilst yoongi unlocks the door. taehyung keeps his head bowed as they walk up the stairs, knowing his eyes are lined with red and cheeks with tear stains. he won’t let them see the proof of his fragmented centre.
he can’t let them see.
he can’t see.
taehyung hangs back in the hallway and stares at the paint, peeling off the wall. he hears the door click and yoongi drops the keys into the pot, but can’t bring his eyes away from the cracks in the wall.
it’s all such a mess, i'm in love i’m in love and it hurts so badly why does it hurt so—
taehyung brings his hand up, the white wall a backdrop.
perfectly steady.
and yet he feels so, so, broken.
“taehyung?” hoseok calls from inside, taehyung blinks away the burn and walks through the door.
hoseok and yoongi’s apartment has always had a homey quality to it, taehyung feels it tenfold as hoseok switches on the heating and yoongi goes to boil water for hot drinks. they curl up under fuzzy blankets, a hot chocolate pressed between his pink fingers, the warmth such a contrast to the biting cold.
inside? outside? taehyung shakes his head bitterly.
“let's play cards?” it’s posed as a question, hoseok’s socked foot poking at taehyung’s mismatched ones. one’s brown and spotty, the other rainbow and striped. jimin got them for him last christmas.
“sure.” taehyung’s voice is croaky as he replies.
a long pause.
“my love, my life, go and get them?”
“get them yourself.” a grumble from the other side of the couch.
hoseok gasps and opens his mouth, with murmur and a heaving sigh, yoongi gets up. it draws a flickering smile from taehyung.
they start playing go fish , sitting on the fluffy rug in the middle of the living room. the rounds pass mindlessly, yoongi and hoseok’s fond bickering the only sound in the orange-hued apartment as the sun goes down.
they don’t push and taehyung is grateful, so thankful for his friends, grateful that the tightness in his chest isn’t just heartbreak, they make him feel more than that.
he is more he is more he is more he is more
“taehyung-ah? got any fours?” yoongi asks.
taehyung clears his throat, “no, hyung. go fish.”
yoongi groans dramatically and picks up another card, slotting it into the many fanned out in his hand.
taehyung focuses on the game, or tries to at least, he doesn’t know why he feels so raw today. why he’s taking everything like an exposed nerve. he’s fine. he is fine. hoseok is putting on music that is quiet and piano-ey and taehyung likes it. yoongi is smiling softly at taehyung as he drops his cards again, and he is fine.
then he notices the pictures on the mantelpiece, there are three, framed in black and standing up. taehyung squints at the figures in the picture, recognising it as them, he stands from his cross-legged position and walks over, unaware of hoseok and yoongi’s careful gazes zeroed in on him.
he looks at the first one, from hawaii a year ago. it’s the seven of them posing on the beach, hoseok and yoongi’s hands around each other’s waists, namjoon carrying jeongguk bridal style, jin adding devil horns behind namjoon’s head, their faces all bright and happy. his eyes slide to jimin, his back is pressed against taehyung’s front, grabbing onto his arms and laughing as taehyung bites his shoulder.
he remembers that trip, the salty air and clothes filled with sand. he remembers carrying jimin home when he was tired from the beach. how he had sighed into taehyung’s shoulder and mumbled love you, taehyung-ah as he did so often, how taehyung had said it back and kissed jimin’s forehead, how taehyung had allowed himself to imagine jimin was his boyfriend for a second because the lines were so blurred.
(he hasn’t said i love you to jimin for a month now. it can’t slip out as easy when he knows they mean different things.)
taehyung’s gaze flicks to the next frames, one of hoseok and yoongi kissing in malta and one at the dinner party seokjin hosted two weeks ago.
it’s similar, everyone wrapped up in each other.
only—
only jimin is in jeongguk’s arms.
only taehyung’s smile looks so pained around the edges.
he picks up the first frame and lightly traces the outline of his and jimin’s bodies folded together. then he asks quietly, unaware that hoseok and yoongi have been watching him so intently. “do you remember this night in hawaii?”
yoongi is so quiet, so gentle when he replies. “yeah. hobi and i almost drunkenly got tattoos.”
taehyung smiles, his eyes water. “me and jimin almost did too.”
they really had, almost each got a locket half on their ankles, something to forever cherish them, their happiness in hawaii. the tattoo parlor had been closed and jimin had pouted “we’ll get them back in seoul.”
“promise?”
“promise taehyung-ah, we'll do it.”
they had been too busy, too afraid of getting permanent ink on their skin. taehyung almost wishes they did, maybe he’d have more to mourn than missed opportunities and unspoken words.
suddenly, it’s hilarious, and taehyung doesn’t know why.
he huffs a laugh and then laughs fully, the frame lands with a dull thud on the rug as he presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “it’s— i can’t believe we, we were—” he laughs again, breathless. the apartment is silent, the music is off.
he takes a deep breath in, it isn’t funny. he knows it isn’t. but he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to contain all this hurt. he can’t really stop the cracks from showing anymore.
he doesn’t know what part of his body the fragments of his heart are supposed to be in.
taehyung laughs again, rushed and bitter, yoongi winces. “it’s funny cause, we look so much like a fucking couple in that picture. that’s probably why i hoped, right? i saw the way he looked at me sometimes and thought, maybe you’re not so stupid taehyung. maybe, just fucking maybe, you might not be the only one in all this— all this pain .” there are tears flowing hot and wet down his face. taehyung feels everything break, everything. and like a dam, he can’t stop.
“i’m in love with him, in love with him and everything’s a fucking mess. you know i never told him because i didn’t want anything to change? so now nothings been said and everything’s changed anyway. i was happy because he’s my best friend who called me his soulmate and smiles like the fucking sun and used to hold me whenever i was sad and made me feel like i was at home every single time i saw him and knows me better than i know myself and used to kiss me on the cheek whenever i picked him up from dance and now— and now—” he heaves a dry sob, his back falls against the wall and slides down, yoongi is crouching in front of him, hoseok to his side.
“and now i feel like i’ve been physically punched every time i see him. and god, jeongguk’s perfect for him, he’s like— he’s like my brother, i could never hate him. so i can’t hate him and i can’t seem to stop loving jimin so there’s nothing to do with all this fucking pain apart from sit here in love with my best friend and— and act like i’m fine, why am i not fine, i want to be fine. ” taehyung’s voice splinters and cracks and breaks.
“taehyung-ah.” even hoseok sounds a little broken watching him.
he sobs and sobs until his throat is sore and his lungs ache, hoseok resting his cheek against taehyung’s shoulder and yoongi shushing him and murmuring taehyung, tae, it's okay providing comfort in the quiet way he does. “i just don’t want to feel this way anymore.” he says, voice breaking again midway through. “please i-i can't feel this way forever, i can't.”
hoseok strokes a hand through his hair, “you won’t. not forever, i promise.”
“it doesn’t feel that way.” taehyung whispers.
“it never does.” hoseok acquiesces and then says, “you know, i was in love with namjoon for a while.”
taehyung looks up, “what?” because he can’t imagine hoseok loving anyone the way he loves yoongi, the way they push and pull and fit together like no one taehyung’s ever met.
hoseok hums, “years ago, i never told him either. so i get it, maybe not to the extent. but i know what you’re thinking. you’re not loveless, taehyung. you’re so full of love, and there’s more of you to give.”
all my love belongs to him. “is there?” taehyung can’t help but ask because he has never felt more empty.
yoongi pokes lightly at his ribs, having stayed quiet through hoseok’s words, “of course there is.”
taehyung swallows his words of protest, it feels like there is nothing in him but this gaping hole.
taehyung feels like the weight on his heart is a little less. he’s said it. he’s admitted it. he’s recognised this feeling that eats away at him, that plants the pressure on his ribs and the sting of his eyes. taehyung loves and loves and loves.
he loves so hard that his heart aches and hurts so hard that his bones feel it.
-
"taehyung? are you home?" jimin's voice rings out from the living room.
taehyung stands for a moment in the doorway, breathes in so hard that he feels it to the tips of his fingers. "hey jimin, jeongguk-ah."
"how was your night?"
taehyung looks at jimin, curled in jeongguk's arms on the couch.
he's happy.
"it was good." taehyung smiles a little.
he's happy and i love him.
"that's good." jimin giggles as jeongguk tickles him. "don't make a habit of spending nights away from me, taehyung-ah, i'll miss your soulmate cuddles too much."
i guess we'll never be more.
taehyung smiles, watery and wan, but a smile nonetheless. "i’d never deprive you of those, i promise.”
(but oh, how taehyung had wished and wished and wished.)