Archive of Our Own

This is their favorite place for dinner. A hole-in-the-wall restaurant—because that’s Yoongi’s specialty—in Hongdae that they’ve been frequenting since college. The menu boasts nothing fancy, just the promise of homestyle cooking, which is sometimes all you need.

“How’s school?” Yoongi asks.

“Good. I thought we’d moved past the point of crying every morning when they’re dropped off, but there’s always a few kids that get shaken up about it when they come back from break,” Taehyung says with a shrug. First graders don’t have the best understanding of time passing, so winter break feels like ages to them, and they come back confused.

“I’m telling you. They’re just doing that to get Teacher’s attention.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I’m glad you think so highly of me, hyung, but I don’t think six-year-olds are at that level of forethought yet.”

“Don’t let their fluffy coats and tiny shoes fool you, Tae,” Yoongi insists, hiding his smile behind his mug. “Six-year-olds are the peak of evil genius.”

“You’re not the one spending every day with them, and I can promise you that little Park Junhwan, who can’t tie his own shoes yet, is not trying to catch anyone unawares.”

“Ah, another ploy for your attention. You’ve got to be more careful.”

Taehyung laughs, reaching across the table to slap Yoongi’s hand. “Stop talking shit about my kids, and tell me about how you’ve been. How was Daegu for you?”

“We text like every other day, Taehyung-ah. You know how I’ve been. Mom sends her love and home baked goods by the way.”

“Yes!” Taehyung gives a tiny cheer. “I love your mom’s almond cookies. Please tell me I get a whole tin to myself.”

“Of course, you do. Just like you’ve been getting every time since they met you four years ago.”

The knowledge that Yoongi’s family likes Taehyung so much warms him from the stomach out, straight through his fingertips. The new year’s chill has nothing on Taehyung right now with his designated table in the corner and his favorite hyung. Taehyung rests his hand on his chin and watches Yoongi scrape his stone bowl for every grain of rice. Yoongi had only gone home for a week and a half, but they’ve missed two dinners now. Taehyung isn’t used to not having Yoongi all the time.

“What’s your goal and your wish, hyung?”

Yoongi eats his last bite of rice and hums around the spoon hanging from his lips. “I don’t know. I guess for a goal, I’d like to put out my second mixtape soon.”

“Agust D 2.0?” Taehyung exclaims. “Oh, I’m so excited!”

“You don’t know if it’ll even be any good.” Yoongi grimaces.

“No, no, I know it will be. It’s you. How can it not be?”

Yoongi cracks a smile. “Shut up.”

“And your wish?”

“Uh, I’d like it if Jeongguk would finally stop mooching dinner off me this year. He’s making so much bank. He can pay for his own meals now.”

Taehyung laughs. “I think you need to change that wish to wishing that you could say no to him. He only does that because he knows you’re a big softie.”

“Maybe,” Yoongi relents with a wry smile.

“So you have to come up with a different one.”

“Alright, uh, next time I go fishing with Jin-hyung I wanna catch a big one.”

“Oh my God, why are you such an old man?” Taehyung whines.

“Aish, I’m not an old man,” Yoongi argues.

“Yes, you are.” Taehyung punctuates each syllable with a bop to Yoongi’s nose. Yoongi goes cross-eyed with the motion and cracks the smile that shows all his top teeth. “Only old men like fishing.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Yoongi rolls his eyes and bats Taehyung’s hand away. “And what about you, Taehyung-ah?”

Taehyung ducks his head. His bangs are getting way too long, but they’ll hide his face from view like this. He doesn’t know what his face is doing right now, but he’s sure that Yoongi would be able to take one look at him and tell that something isn’t quite right. They do this every year, the two of them. A goal and a wish to start the year right. Taehyung’s had time to think about this, and he has an answer, but Yoongi’s so used to watching out for Taehyung that he has to say this with confidence or Yoongi would just worry. And there’s nothing to worry about for once.

“My goal is to get my own classroom this year. Cha-songsaenim is retiring, so hopefully I can take on a class on my own now,” Taehyung says. Yoongi nods along in agreement. “My wish is to fall in love again. It’s been a long time.”

All sound halts from Yoongi’s side of the table. The rustle of his sleeves. The clank of his silverware. Even breathing maybe.

Taehyung smiles and looks into Yoongi’s eyes. He’s trying not to run from this, but suddenly he’s scared to see Yoongi’s reaction. He hopes that Yoongi gets it. He really does. It’s so important to Taehyung that he gets it.

“Huh,” Yoongi says, pursing his lips. He pushes his chopsticks through the vestiges of soup left in his bowl. “That’s good, Taehyung-ah.”

“Good.”

Taehyung lets out a big sigh. Part of him wishes that Yoongi said more. He doesn’t think Yoongi got it completely, but Taehyung doesn’t think he’s ready to be so transparent yet. Besides, Yoongi’s seen too much of Taehyung too fast before. This is something that can wait, that knows how to wait.

“I wanted to ask you,” Yoongi says, clearing his throat. “BigHit’s having a company dinner after the next comeback cycle, and I need a date. Did you wanna come along?”

Taehyung smiles, wide enough to ache. “I’d love to.”

△

“Jimin-ah! How do I look?” Taehyung shouts, announcing his imminent entry into their living room.

Jimin looks up from his book because Jimin reads books for fun like a nerd and gives Taehyung the up-and-down. “I don’t think that shirt works with those jeans, but you should definitely keep the jeans. I always say that you should wear real pants more often.”

“They’re constricting.” Taehyung wrinkles his nose and fiddles with the stiff waistband. “Come help me pick another shirt, Jiminie.”

“Alright. Let’s go,” Jimin agrees immediately, flipping his book page-down onto the couch to save his spot.

Jimin goes straight for Taehyung’s closet. They’ve been roommates for the better part of three years now. They’ve long moved past the point of needing to ask for permission on such things.

“You’ve got a date tonight?” Jimin asks, tossing five shirts onto Taehyung’s bed in quick succession.

“Yup.”

Taehyung flips through Jimin’s picks. There’s some nice florals there, and Taehyung’s favorite red-silk shirt that he saves for special occasions.

“With who?” Jimin’s small torso is half-swallowed into the closet now.

“Hajun. I think I talked about him before. He took me out last week too.”

Jimin springs out of the closet, hair ruffled and still gripping onto two hangers. “A second date? You never do second dates.”

“I do second dates.” Taehyung pouts.

“I can’t remember the last time you have. Taehyung-ah, you’re like, a serial first dater. That’s like your thing.”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger, am I? Maybe it’s time that I need to start giving second chances,” Taehyung says.

Jimin rolls his eyes and turns back to the closet. “I don’t get your whole thing with dates. How can you possibly know enough about someone from one encounter to decide that they aren’t worth it?”

“I just do. It’s a feeling.”

This is a conversation they’ve had more than once, and Jimin’s probably never going to understand it. He didn’t know Taehyung from those years. He’s heard about it by now, but hearing is different from seeing.

“I don’t get it. The only person I’ve seen you go out to dinner with more than once is Yoongi-hyung. Honestly, why don’t you just date hyung?”

Jimin says that last part like a joke. Taehyung knows it’s a joke, but his hands clearly didn’t get the memo. They’ve clenched up, tangled themselves into red, red silk. Taehyung forces in deep breaths. He needs to let go before Jimin notices, before the shirt wrinkles.

“Don’t be silly,” Taehyung says in his most conversational voice, like this is the weather or their grocery list. He sets the red shirt aside. Hajun is getting a second date, but he isn’t a special occasion. “That could never happen.”

Jimin isn’t an idiot though, so he looks concerned when he emerges from the depths of Taehyung’s closet. Something on Taehyung’s face must say that he doesn’t want to talk about this, so Jimin doesn’t push. Instead, he presses a loose black shirt with a wide sailor’s collar of white against Taehyung’s chest.

“I think this would look perfect on you, Taehyung-ah.”

△

Here’s why that could never happen.

When Taehyung was twenty, he had his heart broken. Like “ripped out of his chest” broken, like “this is who I thought I would spend the rest of my life with but then he left” kind of broken. A man nine years his senior held Taehyung in all his firecracker, burning the candle from both ends, youthful glory, and made him tender and made him lovely. Then, one day, he fucked right off back to America and left Taehyung with nothing to show for it except sheets that still smelled of him and all the streets of Seoul where they’d loved together and this sadness, this empty-bellied sorrow.

Taehyung was twenty and didn’t know how to be heartbroken without glorifying the shit out of it. He didn’t know how to be sad without putting on show, without drinking wine at breakfast and going to lecture in socks and sandals. He wanted everyone to look at how he was on fire because he was so young and so angry, and isn’t that beautiful?

That year, that lost year, was not a good one. In reality, it was probably only about five months but that whole year felt defined by this slow implosion. He spent it in an alcoholic daze, barely passed his classes, and to everyone else, it looked like he was having the time of his life. He was going out every weekend and dancing and laughing and sleeping with strangers. The only people that knew how bad things got were Jeongguk and Yoongi.

Jeongguk, bless his heart, didn’t know how to deal with his favorite hyung, the one that taught him that the world is spun sugar and to be brave with people, falling apart at the seams. That turned into Yoongi’s job, and he tried so hard. He was always there if Taehyung needed a ride home or someone to hold his head when he cried, but Yoongi never was one to coddle. He lasted a lot longer that year with Taehyung than he has with anyone before or since.

When Taehyung was twenty, almost twenty-one, he was at some other house party, getting sick in the bathroom. Yoongi slammed his way in, bundled up in his thickest winter coat and his hair still dusted from the snow outside.

He threw the coat to the ground, and Taehyung could feel the puff of cold that came with it. He was sobering up in the worst kind of way, and he could tell that Yoongi was pissed.

“Are you done yet?”

“What?” Taehyung croaked, lifting his head from the toilet.

“I said, are you done with all this fucking mess yet? Did you get it out of your system yet?”

Nausea twisted its claws into Taehyung's stomach, and it has less to do with the alcohol than Yoongi’s words. Taehyung had never been a sad drunk. The reason he drank was so he could stop being sad all the time, so he was taken aback when he felt the hot tracks flowing down his cheeks.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Taehyung whimpered, curling towards Yoongi. “I don’t like this, hyung.”

Yoongi sighed and draped his coat around Taehyung’s shoulders. The fur tickled at Taehyung’s nose.

“You need to stop, Taehyung. You’re worrying Jeongguk. He came to me panicking last week because he thinks you’re going to die of alcohol poisoning, which at this point I’m almost inclined to agree with him.”

“I don’t know how. It hurts so much,” Taehyung mumbled.

“Oh, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi whispered, “you need to stop letting this destroy you. Trust me. I get what you’re doing. You think you deserve to feel this shit. You think that he was a fluke, and that this is what you’re meant to be feeling all the time instead. You’re wrong, Tae. Stop punishing yourself for things that were never your fault to begin with, and get the fuck back up because he’s not going to come back for you.”

Taehyung had been steadily crying this whole time but this made him wail.

“Shh, it’s okay. Let it out but keep listening to me, okay?” Yoongi ran soothing circles on Taehyung’s back. “Remember what I said before? About how I want you to always remember that happiness is a choice? You can return to it, Taehyung-ah. I believe in you. I love you.”

Taehyung didn’t respond to Yoongi’s words that night. He couldn’t stop crying. He let Yoongi take him to his apartment and cried until his head hurt and he was purged. The next morning, Taehyung reached across Yoongi’s kitchen counter and held his hand and thanked him.

Yoongi nodded and asked for the first time, “Tell me, Taehyung-ah. What’s a goal and a wish to start the next year right?”

There was no easy fix after all that. It took time and work and patience, but Yoongi was right. Taehyung did return, and he can never forget what Yoongi did for him.

When Taehyung was twenty, thirteen days off from twenty-one, he was burning alive in love with someone. Yoongi was the one that finally looked Taehyung in the eye and told him that there is no absolution in self-flagellation, that there is no such thing as deserving or undeserving, that happiness is what you make of it and no one is going to swoop in to save you. Taehyung has a life debt to Yoongi. That’s not something easily repaid.

Yoongi’s seen Taehyung at his lowest so why, Taehyung thinks, would Yoongi ever learn to want him?

△

“Do you want any?” Hajun asks, tilting the bottle of red towards Taehyung.

“Maybe only a little bit,” Taehyung says.

“Tell me when.”

Hajun pours slowly. The wine barely sloshes at the bottom, filling only the bottom divot to an inch. Taehyung says, “When.”

“Really? That’s it?” Hajun asks. He listens though. The bottle is back across the table, standing guard by his elbow.

“Yeah, I don’t really drink much anymore.”

“Mind me asking why?”

Taehyung smiles, tipping his glass one way and then the other. “I got dumped. Real hard and I didn’t handle it well.”

“Ah,” Hajun winces sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago,” Taehyung says.

He doesn’t say that he’s over it because he doesn’t like lying, not when it’s the real stuff. He’s not still in love. That would be too much, but he’s not over it. Taehyung’s not sure how anyone can be over loving so deeply. With relationships or friendships. When you give that much of you to someone, it leaves a mark when they leave.

△

Taehyung was nineteen and manic with it. He stumbles out of Jeongguk’s apartment in Michael’s arms, bubbly with laughter.

“Bye, Jeongguk-ah! I love you!” Taehyung waved as the door swung closed. Jeongguk’s delighted laugh followed them out.

“You’ve had a bit too much wine,” Michael said, in that endearingly clumsy Korean of his.

“No, I haven’t! I’m just happy,” Taehyung said.

Taehyung dragged Michael by the hand and out the building. In the elusive wonder of night time, Taehyung didn’t just feel happy. He felt free, more than he had ever.

Michael laughed as he watched Taehyung spin around in an empty lot. Yoongi trailed out behind them like a tiny ghost, a cute ghost.

“Taehyung-ah, stop that before you fall,” Yoongi yelled.

“You’re no fun, hyung!”

“Listen to your hyung.” Michael held out his hand for Taehyung to take.

Taehyung was a night-time wonder, he was free, he was in love. He took Michael’s hand and let himself be held in his skin. Michael kissed him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Michael asked.

“Of course. I’ll text you.”

With a final kiss goodbye, Michael walked in the other direction, and Yoongi herded all of Taehyung’s wayward, floating parts toward their apartment building.

“You’re having a good time, Taehyung?” Yoongi asked.

“Yes, so much, hyung. I want life to always be like this.” All Taehyung’s friends piled on the floor of Jeongguk’s apartment, Taehyung in Michael’s arms, loved.

“That’s good,” Yoongi hummed, “but life won’t always be like this.”

The skip in Taehyung’s step was sapped right out, brought right back down to earth, both feet planted hard on the concrete. “Why not, hyung?”

“Because happiness doesn’t work like that, and something else is gonna happen and it’s not always going to be good and easy.”

“Why are you saying this to me?” Taehyung had asked. Unable to comprehend why Yoongi was being so cruel.

“Because this kinda euphoric feeling has the hardest crash. I just want you to remember that you can come back to it. You can choose to find your way back to happy, but that doesn’t mean it’ll always be there to stay.”

Taehyung had no response at the time, but in retrospect this is probably the moment that defined Yoongi as one of the most important pillars in Taehyung’s life. Because he got Taehyung and how his messy heart worked.

Yoongi held Taehyung’s hand the whole way home.

△

In February, Taehyung gets news that he would’ve killed for in college. On a perfectly innocuous Thursday, when the kids are on snack break and he gets a moment to himself and remembers to return to his adult body that is not entirely geared towards the care of small children, Taehyung checks his email. And sitting there in his inbox is one from Michael.

He opens it and keeps waiting for a catch in his breath that never comes. Michael is coming back to Seoul and wants to catch up, and Taehyung feels for it the way scar tissue does leading up to a thunderstorm. He aches at the mere specter of it, but he is not falling apart.

He reads the email many times. He thinks that Michael’s Korean has gotten worse in his time away. He wonders if his accent would also be more pronounced now.

Taehyung puts his phone in his pocket and hands out another round of animal crackers just because he feels like it. He doesn’t respond.

△

“Michael’s coming back to Seoul,” Taehyung says over dinner.

Yoongi’s chopsticks freeze half way to his mouth. The ramen makes a slow descent back into his bowl. “He is? How do you know that?”

“He is. He emailed me.”

“He emailed you,” Yoongi says, making no effort to keep the unimpressed out of his voice. “Are you going to see him while he’s here?”

“He asked me to. I don’t know if I want to,” Taehyung answers, honest as he knows how, because it is so important that Yoongi knows that he is honest.

Yoongi just shrugs, returns to eating. The ramen goes with a loud slurp. “Maybe seeing him could give you some kind of closure.”

“You think I still don’t have closure from that break up?”

“Well, you haven’t really dated anyone since then, so I’m willing to hazard a yes.”

“You haven’t dated anyone recently either, hyung.” Taehyung frowns. He doesn’t like hearing Yoongi talk like this. Yoongi is supposed to get him. “Do you also need closure over something?’

Yoongi deflates. His little shoulders slump over his bowl. In his loneliest moments, Taehyung would admit to dreaming about those shoulders. For all their featherweight, they are the steadiest things Taehyung has ever known.

“I’m sorry,” says Yoongi, “I didn’t mean it like that. Do whatever you think is right, Tae-ah.”

“Okay,” Taehyung says quietly, half to the floral print behind Yoongi’s head.

As they leave the restaurant that night, Taehyung catches Yoongi’s wrist in his hand. Again, sometimes Taehyung is brutally reminded of how small his hyung is. Yoongi looms so large in his head.

Taehyung catches Yoongi’s wrist in his hand and stops them in the middle of the sidewalk. They’re caught between street lamps, so it’s too dark.

“You never answered my question, hyung.”

“What question?”

Taehyung is no longer a firecracker, but God, sometimes he wishes he still were. He doesn’t know if he remembers how to be that recklessly alive.

“Do you need closure over something, too?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi takes a step closer. A passing car throws a beam of light over them, crossing from Taheyung to Yoongi.

“We all need closure in our lives, Tae, for one thing or another. The problem is that sometimes we don’t want to let go.” Yoongi slips his hand from Taehyung’s grip only to tangle their fingers together.

△

Taehyung does respond to the email. He’s going to get dinner with Michael when he comes to Seoul. Here’s the thing. Sometimes the problem is that we don’t want to let go, but sometimes there is nothing more that we would rather do. The distinction somehow doesn’t make Taehyung’s choice much easier to swallow.

△

“I’m sorry,” Michael says.

It is one of the first things Michael says to Taehyung as they sit across from each other in a place that used to be their favorite. It’s an Italian restaurant with ivy painted along the walls and the smell of flour on the floor. On their first date here, Michael had taught Taehyung how to pronounce gnocchi correctly. Taehyung was the one that suggested it, and it has not changed at all. It makes Taehyung feel better about how much he has.

‘I’m sorry’ is one of the first things Michael says besides standard ‘hello’s and ‘how are you’s. It is the first real thing that Michael says to Taehyung all night, and even though it’s a full twenty minutes into dinner, Taehyung thinks that makes it one of the first things Michael says at all.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung says, trying to grant him the courtesy of not having to admit to what. Taehyung isn’t sure he even wants to know what Michael would deem worthy of apology and what he wouldn’t.

“I’m still sorry,” Michael says. His accent is thicker after all. “I don’t think I did the break up very well.”

“Hmm, maybe not,” Taehyung says, keeping it very neutral.

Michael is an American engineer, nine years older than Taehyung. He had been assigned as the liaison to Seoul for his company because he’d studied Korean at university, and in a crossing of fate, he’d met Taehyung at a club and they’d hit it off. It wasn’t the most romantic of meetings, but it sure did define Taehyung’s existence for a while. Then, he’d gotten a transfer back to California, and he’d ended their relationship on almost the same day. There was no room for Taehyung to protest. It’s hard not to see himself as a novelty for that part of Michael’s life.

Taehyung had felt so mature about it all when he was nineteen. Maybe it’s a little messed up, but he’d found himself a nice American man, who had a real job and grew up in the distant, magical land of San Francisco. Michael’s whole family, his whole neighborhood, had always been so accepting of him. He never had to wonder if the way his hands wanted was something to be feared, something that would come back to hurt him. Taehyung had already stopped speaking to his family at that point, and it made him sadistically happy to be with someone like that.

Taehyung spent half a lifetime fantasizing about a kind of all consuming love because he needed to believe that a paradise existed on the other side of fear. He fell catastrophically in love with Michael because he needed to prove to himself that he could. 

“I was... lost back then,” Michael says, spinning his fork around in his hand. It clunks loudly against the side of his plate. “I was stuck at this job in this country I didn’t know, and you were so bright and fun. So brilliant. You were confident and spontaneous. You felt like a fire. It made me feel alive, but it was so intense that it didn’t feel real.”

“So you ran away? Back to what was real?” Taehyung asks. He’s proud of himself that it almost doesn’t hurt to say this.

Michael grimaces. “I guess so, yes. I’m sorry.”

Taehyung sighs and closes his eyes. He feels old. It’s only been three years, but the person that he was when he was with Michael feels like a child all of a sudden. Was he ever actually that young? When he opens his eyes, Michael is looking back at him, dark curls falling into his eyes. Eyes that still look tired from jet lag. His collared shirt is a little wrinkled because Michael had always sucked at using an iron.

“You thought I was fun, but I was spiralling, Michael. You said that you were lost, but I was too,” Taehyung says. “My parents weren’t speaking to me anymore because I told them that I was gay. I couldn’t go home to see my grandmother before she passed, and I had to leave my little brother. I always took care of him, but then I couldn’t even see him anymore. He was so mad at me that we didn’t speak for the entire time that I was at university, and I felt so guilty. I felt like I was being selfish. Sure, I could be out, but I had to leave my family, and who was I to make that decision?”

“You never told me all this,” Michael says with wide, sympathetic eyes, and it’s true. Taehyung had told Michael a little bit about how his family didn’t accept him when he came out, but he hadn’t talked about the guilt that came with it. “But you shouldn’t feel like that, Taehyung. You deserve to be happy.”

Taehyung laughs bitterly. He can’t help it because it’s such a simplistic way to look at this. It's the way of someone who didn’t know fearful hands, terrible wanting. “What does that mean? To deserve to be happy? When you left, I thought I deserved to be sad. I thought it was a punishment for leaving my grandmother, my brother.”

“I’m sorry ,” Michael repeats. “I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“Maybe, but you did.” Taehyung shrugs. “It happened, and we can’t change that. For what it’s worth, I forgive you.”

“Thank you, Taehyung.” Michael nods, studying Taehyung from across the table. “You changed a lot.”

Taehyung smiles dryly. “I grew up.”

△

“It never gets this cold in California in March,” Michael complains, zipping up his coat as they exit the restaurant.

“You’ll have to get used to it now that you’re working here again,” Taehyung says, chuckling. He reaches out and helps tuck the ends of Michael’s scarf into his coat. “And also practice your Korean. You’ve been slacking.”

“Haven’t had anyone to practice with.”

They stand under the awning in front of the shop together. While they were eating, it started to rain. Taehyung peeks out at an unforgivingly dark-gray sky. The first time they’d come to this restaurant, it had been raining too. It was also the first time that Taehyung had said ‘I love you.’ For a second, Taehyung is taken out of space and time. He is nineteen and twenty-three all at once, standing next to the man that was once his end all be all.

“Yeah, I didn’t miss this weather,” Michael says with a laugh.

“What did you miss about Seoul?”

“I miss the food a lot and the people.” Michael takes a deep breath and turns to look down at Taehyung. “I missed you.”

Taehyung freezes. All the good humor from their dinner has evaporated into the night. There’s nothing between them besides the sound of raining hitting tarmac and the shimmer of street lights in puddles. Michael’s eyes are beseeching, a blue-green that Taehyung used to think was the prettiest color in the entire world. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do with himself. Suddenly, he can’t remember why he agreed to this dinner at all. Something about closure.

“Michael, why did you ask me to come meet you?” Taehyung whispers.

“Ah, I mean, I missed you.” Michael runs a hand through his hair, pausing. “And I was hoping that we could see each other more now that I’m back.”

Taehyung shakes his head. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears and very little else. “It’s been three years.”

“I know, but—”

“No, it’s been three years. You never tried to contact me again, and I—I don’t love you anymore,” Taehyung says, and it wasn’t until he was standing here—nineteen and twenty-three all at the same time—that he’s realizing how true that statement is. Because, sure, you never really get back all those parts that you gave away to people that you used to love, but you can move on, and you can divorce yourself of that sensation of beholdenness. “I don’t love you anymore, and I don’t want you back.”

“I didn’t expect you to be waiting for me or something, but I hoped that we could try again?” Michael blushes, seemingly embarrassed by his own request.

“I don’t want to” Taehyung snaps. Maybe he’s being cruel, but he can’t help himself. Michael can’t just drop back into Taehyung’s life and do this. “You know, if you came back and told me this even last year, I would’ve dropped everything to be with you again. It took me a long time to get over you, but I trained myself to not need you anymore, and I don’t want to try again. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Michael says, slowly as if to a startled animal and it makes Taehyung want to snarl at him like one. “I get that. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Taehyung says, crossing his arms. More to hold himself together than to show that he’s mad.

Michael sighs, looking at Taehyung so softly. “I know that you said you weren’t okay when we were together, but I mean it when I say that you were brilliant, and I think you are very brave.”

Was Taehyung brave? Was that how Michael saw it? Taehyung doesn’t think he’s been brave for a very long time. Humans beings are animals at the end of the day, and nature dictates that we run as far away as we can from the things that hurt us and never look back. Taehyung has been running for years.

Here’s Michael, standing before Taehyung and telling him things that he’d always wanted to hear, and suddenly Taehyung thinks about Yoongi. About Yoongi holding his hand four years ago, telling him that happiness never lasts, and about Yoongi holding his hand last month, telling him about letting go.

He wants to go find Yoongi right now and let him hold him and comfort him. He wants to get dinner with Yoongi every week until they’re old and gray, and he wants Yoongi’s mom to always like him a little better and send her son back to Seoul with almond cookies. He wants to stop going on an endless series of first dates that never feel right, never compare to what Taehyung really wants. Taehyung is teetering on the precipice of some horrifying realization, and he just wants to stop being so scared all the time about getting what he wants.

God, he needs to get out of there.

“I—I need to go. Thank you for dinner,” Taehyung stammers, fumbling to get his umbrella open.

He lifts the umbrella above his head and runs into the night. He doesn’t look back.

△

Taehyung doesn’t stop running until he makes it into the metro. He comes to a halt in the bustling entrance right before the turnstiles, and he feels like crying and screaming at the same time. He needs perspective. He needs someone to explain to him what this immense feeling in his chest is. Because he isn’t twenty and obsessed with tearing himself apart anymore, he pulls out his phone and dials.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Jeongguk answers.

Taehyung inhales shakily and says, “Hey, Jeongguk-ah. Are you free right now?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Cool, do you want to go for drinks with me?”

“Drinks?” Jeongguk asks, his voice barely concealing panic. “You want to go for drinks?”

“It’s just a saying, Jeongguk. You know that I don’t really drink anymore.”

“Yeah, I do know, which is why this is a strange request? Are you okay, hyung?” Taehyung hears some rustling on the other line, like Jeongguk is getting up. “I’m actually at the studio right now. I can go get Yoongi-hyung. We can go together.”

“No!” Taehyung shouts. He swallows loudly and tries again in a more tempered tone. “No, please don’t get hyung. I’m fine.”

“Alright, uh, are you sure you’re okay? You were meeting Michael for dinner, right?”

Taehyung sighs. He didn’t quite expect Jeongguk to remember that little detail. “I’m good. I promise. I could just use someone to talk to right now.”

“Okay, hyung. Where do you want to go?” Jeongguk sounds hesitant, concerned.

“Uh, I’m in Itaewon right now. I’ll send you my location as soon as I find a place,” Taehyung says, bracing himself to go back into the rain and wander aimlessly until he finds an appealing enough bar.

“Sounds good. I’ll be there in thirty.”

Taehyung stares unseeingly at the heads of all the people passing him by and says, “Hey, please don’t tell Yoongi-hyung about this. I don’t want to worry him.”

“Okay, hyung. I won’t.”

△

“Hyung!” Jeongguk calls out as he approaches Taehyung’s table. Taehyung smiles and waves to him. It’s been too long since he’s seen Jeongguk, what with the other man preparing for a comeback soon.

“Hey, Jeongguk-ah. I know you’re busy right now. Sorry to pull you away like this,” Taehyung says.

“It’s no problem. I was about to leave anyway,” Jeongguk says, sitting down across from Taehyung. He glances at Taehyung’s drink.

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung says, picking up his glass. “It’s a virgin rum and coke.”

This makes Jeongguk relax and crack a smile. “That’s just a coke then, hyung.”

“You caught me,” Taehyung jokes.

“Seriously though, what’s going on?” Jeongguk leans forward with both his elbows on the table as if to show exactly how serious this is. Taehyung wants to tell him to chill, but he feels like a live-wire himself, and he’s sure it shows.

“Michael asked me if I wanted to get back together.”

Jeongguk hisses. “And what’d you say?”

“I told him no, of course. I’m not twenty anymore.”

“Good.”

“Is it?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head and studying Jeongguk’s blatant relief. “Is this good?”

“Um, yeah? The dude was an ass to you,” Jeongguk says.

Taehyung shakes his head. “Only because he dumped me. He wasn’t all bad.”

“Sure, but he wasn’t right for you.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes.

“Jeongguk-ah, I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this,” Taehyung teases.

“I mean, we don’t really talk about stuff like this,” Jeongguk says, shrugging, “but yeah, I don’t think he was very good for you.”

“What do you mean?”

Jeongguk sighs. “It’s hard to explain, but I think he was… flighty.”

“Flighty?”

“Ugh, I don’t know if that’s the right word, but he was like ooooh, you know?” Jeonguk pairs the noise with wiggling his fingers around. “I think that’s what brought you guys together, but it also wasn’t what you needed. You needed to be grounded, but Michael seemed to make you more frantic.”

“I see,” Taehyung says, staring down at the circles of condensation his glass has left on the table. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Jeongguk blinks at the sudden change in topic. “Yeah, sure?”

“Great, what do you want? Hyung will pay,” Taehyung says as he hails over a waiter.

While Jeongguk orders, Taehyung tries to piece through the disaster zone that this evening has made of his emotions. The process of it aches somewhere immaterial. Taehyung just wants someone to tell him what to do, to tell him that he isn’t about to fuck everything up. Jeongguk, bless him, leaves Taehyung to his silent wondering even after the waiter leaves.

“Jeongguk-ah, can I ask you a question?” Taehyung asks after the waiter brings Jeongguk his beer.

“Shoot,” Jeongguk says, taking a sip.

“What does it feel like to fall in love?”

Jeongguk chokes. He looks up at Taehyung like he’s lost his mind and wipes his mouth. “Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?”

“I don’t know. I only know what it felt like to fall in love with Michael, but does it always feel the same? And if it doesn’t, then how am I supposed to tell when it happens again?” Taehyung says, ruthlessly ripping up a stained bar napkin between his fingers.

“Well, what did it feel like to fall in love with Michael?”

Taehyung opens his mouth only to close it again. He thinks about what Michael said about him, about how it was as if Taehyung had been on fire. “It felt like burning alive. Like it was all I would want to do for the rest of my life. Whatever it was, it felt bigger than me. Scary almost.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk sighs, running a hand through his hair. Taehyung starts to feel bad that he’s dragged Jeongguk all the way out here just to hear about how Taehyung might be fraying at the ends a little bit tonight. “Hyung, can I be very blunt with you right now?”

Taehyung nods, biting his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to hear what Jeongguk is going to say next, but the same part of him that feels like he’s at the precipice of something infinite tells him that he should.

“I think the way you depended on Michael wasn’t very healthy. I don’t think the way he latched onto you was great either, but you were only nineteen and untethered. You’d lost most of your support system in one fell swoop, and then this dude comes along like a knight in shining armor, and you built all of your expectations on him.”

Taehyung swallows and admits, “I know. I’m not stupid, and in retrospect, I get what I was doing, but that doesn’t help me right now. If that crazy, hurricane kind of emotional dependency is my only blueprint for what love is like, then how will I ever find anything different? How would I know if I did?”

“Isn’t that just one of those things that you’ll know when it happens? Not everything has to feel like something else, hyung.”

Jeongguk tilts his head, staring up at Taehyung with his sparkling eyes that always made Taehyung feel stronger than he was because maybe nineteen year old Taehyung was a hot mess of a person, but he’d manage to make this new kid from Busan feel at home and that felt pretty damn special. They’ve both grown up so much.

Suddenly, Taehyung starts laughing. Seeing Jeongguk be strong for him right now is heartening, like a vitamin shot straight to the soul. If the person that he was four years ago was good enough to make Jeongguk his friend, and if the person that he was three years ago was strong enough to get over his world ending, then whoever Taehyung is right now is enough to stop running and survive it.

“When did you get so mature, Jeongguk-ah?” Taehyung giggles. He’s just drinking coke, but he still feels as if he might float away.

Jeongguk laughs and ruffles Taehyung’s hair until he whines. “I could say the same to you, hyung.”

“Thank you, Jeongguk-ah. I feel a bit better now.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, taking a deep breath. “I was shaken up by Michael’s request, but I think I needed it in order to start thinking about some things.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m sick of forcing myself to go on dates with people that I couldn’t care less about,” Taehyung answers.

“Thank God!” Jeongguk laughs. “I was afraid that you were never gonna admit that those people are boring as hell.”

Taehyung smiles, his fingers wrapping around the mess that he’s made of the napkin. He closes his eyes for a moment and forces himself to face that precipice, that cliff-hanging that Taehyung thinks has been in front of him for much longer than he’s been willing to admit. Yes, he wished to fall in love again this year, but the miscellaneous dates are just excuses to avoid what his flight-risk heart has been asking for.

“Jeongguk-ah, there’s another reason why I didn’t want you to call Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung confesses. “I think… I think I’m falling in love with hyung. And maybe… maybe I have been for a long time now.”

The smile stays on Jeongguk’s face, and he doesn’t look all that surprised. “Yeah?”

“But what if I’m just making the same mistake again? I’m latching onto the person that was there for me after everything went to shit. What if I start this, and then I lose him too?” Taehyung can feel a stinging behind his eyes, but he blinks it back.

“Well, for what it counts, I don’t think you would lose him, and I don’t think this is the same thing at all. I mean, like, what does falling in love with Yoongi-hyung feel like?”

Taehyung thinks about how Yoongi was his first thought when he’d turned down Michael, about how he wants to go with him to that stuffy company dinner as his real date, and about how he’d maybe like to be able to kiss him goodnight. He thinks about the comfort of loving Yoongi, and he thinks about how happiness is a choice that we can always come back to.

“Like it’s finally safe for me to fall in love again,” Taehyung says.

△

“How was your dinner with Michael?” Yoongi asks, half-way through their next lunch together. It’s another drizzling March day, and Taehyung still kind of feels like he’s floating.

“It was fine. He asked me if I wanted to get back together. I said no,” Taehyung says.

“You said no?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

Taehyung raises both eyebrows back. “Is that a surprise?”

“No, I mean, not really. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Yoongi sighs, leaning back in his seat. “I was kinda afraid that he would pull some shit like this. How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. Believe it or not, it did give me closure in a sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I don’t have to be afraid that getting what I want will cost me because it won’t be more than I can handle. I don’t think I realized how scared I was that whoever I love will leave me too until I saw this man that I’d lost and knew that I could come back from that.”

“Good,” Yoongi says. He’s looking at Taehyung like he’s seeing some part of him for the first time. Maybe he’s also starting to get what Taehyung has been hinting at all year. “That’s good to hear.”

Taehyung beams at him from across the table. A gentle gray light streams through the windows, casting across Yoongi’s face and his hands fidgeting with his chopsticks, and Taehyung feels so filled with his ability to love.

“And I decided that I’m going to stop going on dates for a while.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks, sounding genuinely bewildered. “Wasn’t your wish for this year to fall in love again?”

“It was, and I haven’t given up on that, but the next date I go on, I want it to mean something,” Taehyung explains.

Yoongi scoffs but not to be mean. Taehyung knows that because he’s still smiling back at him. “And how are you gonna make sure of that?”

“Oh, I’ll find a way,” Taehyung responds airily. “When’s the company dinner again?”

“Next Friday. I told you this already. Don’t tell me you forgot,” Yoongi scolds.

“I didn’t forget. I never forget anything you tell me, hyung. Just wanted to make sure.”

Taehyung rests his chin in his hands and bats his eyes at Yoongi in a way that he knows is over the top. Yoongi rolls his eyes, but Taehyung can spot a flush of red on the tips of his ears. If Taehyung used to be a firecracker, then he’s more akin to a spooked animal now. Like a rabbit, ready to hide at the slightest sign of hurt, but something about this makes Taehyung feel powerful. Like he’s recklessly alive again. His stomach fills with those first-crush butterflies at Yoongi’s shy smile, and he feels certain that this won’t be something he regrets. He’ll make sure of it.

△

Taehyung had been so level-headed and confident about approaching this whole maybe-in-love-with-Yoongi-and-going-to-tell-him situation that he’d almost tricked himself into believing that it really would be no big deal if he had his heart broken tonight or months down the line. But alas.

Alas, it’s thirty-eight minutes before he’s supposed to meet Yoongi at the restaurant his company booked for this dinner, and he can’t get dressed. He’s standing in just his pants, staring unseeingly down at his bed where he has his clothes laid out, and it’s hitting him all at once. It’s hitting him all at once that maybe he doesn’t know how to be brave when it isn’t in a reckless, falling apart kind of way. And sure, he thinks that he’ll be okay if this whole idea went south, but he doesn’t know, does he? Maybe he really only had enough inside of him to get over Michael, and losing Yoongi would be so much more devastating.

“Taehyung,” Jimin calls out with a quiet knock at Taehyung’s door. “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving soon? Everything okay?”

Taehyung bites his lip, still looking at his red, red shirt. “I’m not sure.”

“What happened? Can I come in?” Jimin says, panic rising in his voice.

“Yeah.”

Taehyung’s door swings open, and Jimin runs in with familiar, blustering comfort, pulling Taehyung into a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember when you teased me about going on a date with Yoongi-hyung, and I said that it could never happen?”

“Yeah?” Jimin finally glances down at the bed and his eyes widen just a little bit because that’s Taehyung’s special occasion shirt in bold silk.

“I said that it could never happen because I’m afraid of falling even more in love with him and ruining everything, but I want to. I really want to go on a date with him. A lot of dates actually. I want to date him,” Taehyung blurts out.

“Oh, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin sighs, petting Taehyung’s hair. “Do you know why I tease you about Yoongi-hyung sometimes?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Because you seem happiest with him. I make those jokes sometimes because it feels like you two were always on your way to something. It made less sense to me why you never tried dating,” Jimin explains.

“Yoongi-hyung was the one that took care of me when I fell apart after Michael left. Sometimes I can’t imagine how he could possibly love me after seeing me like that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I feel like hyung’s half-way in love with you, too,” Jimin insists.

Taehyung’s heart nearly jackrabbits out of his chest hearing Jimin put into words what he so dearly hopes. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. And if you’re planning on confessing to hyung tonight, then you better start getting dressed.” Jimin picks up Taehyung’s shirt from the bed and gently places it into his arms.

“But what if he rejects me?” Taehyung asks, crumpling the shirt against his chest. He’s probably leaving wrinkles, but that’ll add to a lazy, chic look. At least, that’s what Taehyung tells himself.

“Then he rejects you, but at least you did it,” Jimin says, nailing Taehyung with a stern look that borders on harsh, but that’s always been Jimin. A little too loving and a little too willing to tell you the harsh truth about yourself and the world. “You also don’t have to say anything, but that only works if you think you can live with it and move on. Can you live with never knowing what Yoongi-hyung would say?”

“No,” Taehyung admits quietly. He’s tried ignoring it, tried an endless line of first dates, and he hadn’t been able to push himself off this path.

Jimin beams at him, loving and harsh all at once. “Then get dressed and go to the restaurant and be prepared to tell me all about it when you get back.”

It's crazy because Taehyung thinks that Yoongi has taught him more lessons about love than Michael leaving ever did. Taehyung had just been too stuck to see them for what they were. Because not every lesson is about catastrophy, about how to kiss someone like you're trying to divine their secret name from the roof of their mouth. Sometimes those lessons are as simple as stand up, keep believing in happiness, and put on an extra coat for bad weather.

Taehyung steels himself and puts on his red silk shirt.

△

When Taehyung arrives at the restaurant, the tables are already filled, the scent of grilled meat filling the air. Yoongi is sitting at the main table with other prominent company people and artists. Jeongguk is sitting across from him, and the spot next to Yoongi on the bench is empty, waiting for Taehyung.

“You’re late, Taehyung,” Yoongi scolds as Taehyung walks up. “Did you actually forget?”

“I didn’t!” Taehyung argues with a strained laugh. His heart is a jackrabbit again, thumping to leap out at Yoongi’s feet in all its messy, love-filled sinew.

“Well, come sit.” Yoongi pats the empty spot. “Hyung’ll make you a wrap.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung mumbles. He feels so shy. He’s never felt shy around Yoongi before. What is happening to him? Is this what being in love feels like?

Later, after Yoongi has placed enough food on Taehyung’s plate to his satisfaction and turned his attention to other people at the table, Jeongguk tosses a rolled up bit of napkin at Taehyung. His cheeks are flushed from three bottles of beer, and he asks nearly too loud, “Are you gonna tell hyung tonight?”

“Yes, so don’t blow it for me,” Taehyung hisses back.

Jeongguk’s face splits into an enormous grin. “Good, I’m rooting for you, hyung. Fighting!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and takes advantage of Yoongi’s distraction to slip a wrap into his plate. Somehow, Jeongguk’s stupid aside hadn’t caught Yoongi’s attention, but this movement did. He turns to his plate and stares at the new piece of food with a wondrous smile.

“Tae-ah, are you taking care of me?” Yoongi asks, lilting and jovial.

Taehyung smiles back at him. “Yeah, let me take care of you sometimes, hyung.”

Yoongi studies Taehyung’s face for a long moment before shoving the wrap into his mouth in one bite. Through a mouthful of food—which honestly should not be as endearing as Taehyung finds it—Yoongi says, “You’re acting different tonight. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” Taehyung insists.

Yoongi chews thoughtfully and raises an eyebrow.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, viciously beating down the nerves that are bubbling up in his chest and threatening to expose him right at that table with all of Yoongi’s coworkers. “I’ll tell you later, hyung.”

“Alright, I’m holding you to that.” Yoongi shrugs.

△

As the night winds down, people start leaving, and Yoongi stands up, holding his hand out to Taehyung.

“You ready to go?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Taehyung takes his hand and stands up too.

They keep holding hands as Yoongi bids farewell to his colleagues, and they’re still holding hands when they exit the restaurant into the brisk night.

“What’s on your mind, Tae-ah? You promised to tell me later,” Yoongi says as soon as they’re out onto the sidewalk.

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung says.

He tightens his other hand into a fist and takes a deep breath, looking anywhere but at Yoongi for a moment. The streets are busy on a Friday night. Busy enough that no one’s going to take note of Taehyung doing the most reckless thing he has in years. While the entrance to the restaurant opens onto a pedestrian-only street, the main road isn’t far off. There’s the constant chatter of people and the blaring music of nightclubs starting to open on the next street over and the far-off car horns and tire tracks. In all this cacophony, no one is going to care about Taehyung’s gay love confession.

Inanely, Taehyung notes that it isn’t raining. It isn’t raining, and this will only be the second person in this entire world that Taehyung has said ‘I love you’ to.

Taehyung must’ve been silent for too long because Yoongi tugs on his hand and his eyebrows are all furrowed when he says, “Taehyung? I’m waiting.”

“Right, um, I love you, hyung,” Taehyung says.

“I love you, too, Tae-ah,” Yoongi answers immediately.

“No, I mean like—” Taehyung cuts himself off, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. People often tell him that he has a tendency to ramble or to talk in circles, and he knows that, and it only gets worse when he’s nervous, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so nervous before. Taehyung knows all this, but that does nothing to stem the ramble of words that leave his mouth. “I said that I wanted love this year, but that I was going to stop going on dates because I want the next one to be special and that I was going to make sure that it was special.”

“Yes?”

“Well, this is me making it special,” Taehyung declares loudly enough that the next cluster of people emerging from the restaurant glance over at him.

Yoongi half-turns to wave at his departing coworkers. One of them shouts something at Yoongi about a track and a meeting, and Taehyung thinks that if Yoongi doesn’t give him some kind of response in the next five seconds, he’s going to combust. When Yoongi faces Taehyung again, he blinks up at him in a daze.

“You’re making it special,” Yoongi says slowly, “by coming to a company dinner with me.”

Taehyung nods furiously. “Yes, because you asked me to be your date to this thing, but I’m treating it like a date because then I can make sure my next date is special.”

“Taehyung, please stop speaking in circles,” Yoongi growls, squinting at Taehyung through his bangs. “I need to know that you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Taehyung thinks, Okay, I can do that. And before he can second guess himself, he shakes his hand loose from Yoongi’s grip, so he can bring both of them up to Yoongi’s face, and he kisses him. He kisses Yoongi outside of a restaurant where his bosses are eating, and it isn’t raining, and technically he hasn’t said those words yet, but Yoongi is going to know after this. From one second to the next, all of Taehyung’s worries melt out of his body because Yoongi kisses him back.

“Fuck,” Yoongi swears, pulling back. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says. This is the most sure that Taehyung’s felt about anything in years. The two of them have been a long time coming.

“No, Taehyung, you have to be sure,” Yoongi argues. “Because I’m just me. I can’t be what Michael was to you. I don’t like staying out after ten, and I complain about back aches, and my idea of a good time is going fishing. I don’t know how to be some kind of whirlwind romance.”

Taehyung grabs Yoongi’s hands from where they’re flitting around his head.

“I know that. I’m not expecting you to be Michael or some whirlwind romance. I love you, and maybe it’s not the same way that I loved Michael, but not everything has to feel like something else for it to be real. It’s real enough that I already know all those things about you, and I want to stay in with you and give you massages when your back aches and maybe even go fishing with you one day even though it really seems super boring.”

Yoongi laughs, his shoulders shaking with it. Oh, how Taehyung’s little rabbit heart loves those shoulders. “You don’t have to go fishing with me, Taehyung.”

“No, I do. I have to prove that I love you,” Taehyung blurts out, and he’s really only half-joking, but he delights in the way that the statement makes Yoongi’s entire face flush.

“Aish, you’re embarrassing,” Yoongi grumbles.

“You haven’t said it back yet, hyung,” Taehyung says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Said what?”

“I love you.” God, Yoongi’s flustered face is better than any promises of impossible romance. “I love you, hyung.”

“Oh my God, we’re still in public,” Yoongi complains.

“I’m just going to keep repeating it until you say it back. I’ll get louder too,” Taehyung threatens, giggling all the while.

Yoongi shuts Taehyung up by pulling him in by the back of his neck for another kiss. Taehyung hums into it, feeling all the comfort of a free fall. Yoongi moves his lips, his tongue darting out to taste Taehyung, and retreats. He keeps his forehead leaned against Taehyung’s and says, “I love you, too.”

Taehyung grins like a firecracker reborn and leans in for another kiss.

A lifetime spent dreaming about a love like the movies doesn’t teach you how to heal when that love falls apart. Taehyung’s lucky. He had Yoongi to show him how.