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They could have waited.
A moldy, stubborn wallpaper clings to the walls, begrudgingly revealing the beige paint underneath where it peeled off. There are too many loose floorboards and the wood is damaged beyond repair. It’s a summer evening and the living room window is jammed, which makes the atmosphere inside the apartment thick with humidity. The place is so small they can hear the kitchen sink leaking from the bathroom. There’s no bed, no table, no furniture apart from a worn out mattress and a pair of cushions for pillows. They’ll bring the few boxes with their belongings the next morning; for now, they have the basics in a backpack that lies open-mouthed on the floor.
Oh, and the power is out. The landlord said that happens quite often: “better get used to cold showers and candlelit dinners”.
To say it’s far from perfect is an understatement, but at least it’s theirs—that alone makes it perfect. They’re finally living together; nothing could ever go wrong.
“There’s a cockroach in the tub!”
The unbridled horror in Seokjin’s voice makes Taehyung smile. He jumps up from the mattress and bolts to the bathroom. Indeed, there it is, a giant black spot on the grubby porcelain.
Seokjin’s fingers grip Taehyung’s sleeve. “I’ve never seen such a big one.”
Taehyung pouts. “It’s kinda cute. Can we keep it?”
Seokjin glares at him in the dark. Taehyung purses his lips to suppress a snort, then gives the cockroach a side glare and shudders. Seokjin crosses his arms.
“I cook and you kill the bastards. That’s the deal.”
Taehyung groans. His reputation will not be tarnished by that filthy insect. “I know. I’ll do it.”
In a swift motion, he squeezes the flip flop in his hand and smacks the thing dead before it can escape. Seokjin lets out a vomiting sound and cleans up the mess with his nose scrunched.
“My hero,” he mocks as they walk out of the bathroom, ruffling Taehyung’s hair. “So brave!”
Pride squares Taehyung’s shoulders, puffs up his chest. His trademark grin shines bright in the darkness of their new home. He knows Seokjin is perfectly capable of killing the thing himself, but Taehyung loves how he always finds ways to make him feel needed, always makes sure to include Taehyung in every crevice of his life. The feeling is worth developing superpowers for.
“Anything for you,” he replies, and doesn’t need the lights to know Seokjin’s ears go red.
“Come on, let’s make dinner.”
Seokjin holds his hand to take him to the kitchen. They jump and laugh halfway when the neighbors upstairs drop something incredibly heavy—again.
“Hyung, how do you plan to cook anything without matchsticks?” Taehyung turns on the flashlight from his phone to illuminate the cabinet under the sink and help Seokjin find a pan. The spider webs inside are so thick Peter Parker would be jealous. “I know you’re hot as fuck, but you won’t boil water just by looking at it.”
From over his bare shoulders, Seokjin looks at him with an eyebrow raised.
“So you think I’m hot as fuck, huh?” He winks when Taehyung sticks out his tongue. “I’ll figure something out. I have many skills, you know.”
“You might have shown me one or two, yeah.”
That does the trick, as Taehyung knew it would. Seokjin rises to his feet, spins on his heels to look him dead in the eye.
“One or two?” He speaks through gritted teeth. “What about that thing I did on your birthday?”
Taehyung’s stomach twists, instant arousal piling up in his lower belly when the memory comes back to him. Seokjin grins at his bobbing Adam’s apple.
“Well, I guess that was one.”
“You guess? It made you come in thirty seconds. Not that I was counting.”
Seokjin leans back on the sink and cocks his head to the side. His whole upper body is on display for Taehyung’s appreciation, along with a pair of supple legs barely covered by his shorts. Taehyung’s face burns, not at all because of the heat.
“I missed you a lot that day, okay?” He whines, voice breaking out of shame. “We hadn’t seen each other in weeks.”
Seokjin’s gaze softens, the mischievous grin on his face becomes tender. He steps into Taehyung’s personal space, takes the phone from his hand and leaves it on the counter to intertwine the fingers of both their hands. His heart aches to remember how they’ve spent several days apart during their two-year-long secret relationship, since their families could tell there was more than friendship between them and did nothing to hide their disapproval.
His body yearns now for the boy who can make his head spin with a smile the same way it did the first time they kissed. Seokjin will never forget how intoxicating the smell of Taehyung’s sweat was as he writhed against him in bed on the nights he sneaked in through Taehyung’s bedroom window; how he used to muffle Taehyung’s moans with more kisses as they made out in his bed, to avoid waking Taehyung’s grandma in the adjoining room.
They played the part of just friends for way too long to please everyone else. Thirty seconds was an eternity to wait, actually, after all the longing they went through.
But that’s all in the past now.
“I know, baby.” Seokjin brings his mouth to Taehyung’s jaw, whispers the words close to his ear, breath raising goosebumps on his skin. “Not anymore.”
The warmth of his bare torso seeps through the old T-shirt Taehyung is wearing, the only obstacle between their bodies. He hates himself for wearing it, only put it on because it’s Seokjin’s, has his smell on it, and he’s addicted. He lets out a fragile sound when Seokjin’s hot mouth advances down his neck, melting into him, tilting his head to the side in surrender. He can feel Seokjin smiling and loves it, loves him so much.
“Not anymore.”
The sink goes on leaking. The window remains closed. The floorboards creak under their feet as they trip on each other’s legs on the way to the mattress, dinner postponed to attend more pressing matters.
They couldn’t care less, for as long as they are in each other’s arms, they will always be home.