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It started when the two of them were children and Jeongguk slipped hard on the ice in the school courtyard, tiny stones of gravel imprinted in the soft skin of their palms, and Kim Taehyung left his foam-football game to take them gently by the wrists and pull them back to their feet. It started then as an admiration, a yearning to be allowed into the world of a boy that involved whispered conversations about sci-fi movies but also hiding under the bed during the night-time to wait for household ghosts whenever Jeongguk slept over.
The admiration, that desperate desire to be his very best friend, turned to something more during high school, when Jeongguk started to notice the way the light caught Taehyung’s eyes with a glimmer that was not so much an effect as a conjuring of their own imagination, like the stars spilled out from his very gaze and left Jeongguk in his glow. The teachers knew them as a duo, never to be separated, side by side, but even then Jeongguk felt that they were the one following Taehyung around, happy to stand behind him, happy to watch in awe as he turned into a young man that turned heads in every corridor.
For all of those years, Jeongguk thought that they wanted to be like Taehyung.
Taehyung was the first to experiment with make-up, the first to buy them tickets for an alternative rock concert that Jeongguk had to sneak out of the house to get to, the first to get a boyfriend. Taehyung has always been cool.
As Jeongguk stands now in front of the long, narrow mirror in their small shared room, they brush away the thick bangs that have fallen over their eyes and take a slow, steadying breath. It took two years of college to come to terms with the fact that they didn’t want to be like Taehyung. It took two years of college to come to terms with the fact that they want to be with Taehyung. And the third year to come to terms with who they really did want to be.
Who they are.
Because Jeongguk knows they always have been the same person.
It was all just buried too deep.
They press their fingers to their hot cheeks, red with anxiety, and wipe away the eyeliner that has smudged below their eyes. Jeongguk wears make-up every day, now, though Taehyung stopped that years ago. No one has ever questioned it. No one has ever questioned their clothes, their behaviour, because in their circle of friends no one stresses over the standards set upon such things. What it means to be masculine or feminine.
That’s the strange part.
Only Jeongguk has ever stressed about it.
They suppose they’re the only one who has ever had to.
Today, they’re more stressed than they’ve ever been before, because Taehyung is due home from his lecture in half an hour and Jeongguk is going to tell him. It feels like a confession, one that ought to be rehearsed over and over and over even though they have done nothing wrong. Telling Taehyung that they’re in love with him, that they have been for a lifetime, would be easier than telling him this. Jeongguk has said that out loud before, told Jimin and Hoseok that Taehyung might be the only person they’ll ever love. But they haven’t told their friends this.
‘Taehyung, I need to tell you something,’ they repeat aloud for the courtesy of the mirror. They don’t look dressed for an occasion, swathed in an oversized sweater that hangs to their knees and covers equally baggy sweats, but this is the armour in which Jeongguk has always felt most comfortable. ‘The truth is, that I’m not a boy. No. Shit.’ They shake their head. That doesn’t sound right. ‘The thing is, I know this is difficult to understand but please just hear me out… the thing is, I’m non-binary.’
Their own reflection doesn’t respond.
They turn and pace the steps between their bed and Taehyung’s. They’ve lived these few inches apart for so long. The two of them have shared every secret, every anxiety, every difficult moment and beautiful celebration. Jeongguk held Taehyung while he cried after his parents told him they were getting divorced. Taehyung held Jeongguk’s hand when the latter was waiting for their first-year exam results, an inch from failing the year. This secret, these secrets, feel heavy now between them.
Jeongguk knows that Taehyung won’t care.
They pray that Taehyung won’t care.
Taehyung is the kindest and most understanding person that Jeongguk has ever met. He’s not going to cut his friend from his life because of this.
But it’s not just about Taehyung caring, being frustrated that they kept it from him or God forbid thinking there’s something strange about it, it’s about the way that Taehyung might look at them differently afterwards. Not bad-different. Just different. Because if it’s one thing that Jeongguk knows, it’s that Taehyung likes boys.
And Jeongguk isn’t a boy.
By telling him this truth, they could cost themself that one silent, fleeting, hope of dream that Taehyung might ever want them back.
‘Taehyung, I need to talk to you. Taehyung, can I talk to you for a minute?’ They start their practice in front of the mirror again and wonder how speaking to their best friend, their best friend for the last fifteen years, can suddenly feel like the scariest thing in the entire world. ‘It’s not a big deal, but – It’s kind of a big deal but I don’t want you to worry because - ’ They stop again.
The familiar room feels suddenly suffocating. There’s only one small window above Taehyung’s bed because he likes the fresh air in the night the most, so they dive across his pillows to shove it open and inhale a second of the afternoon air. A car horn sounds down on the street, jolting them back to reality. It’s difficult, sometimes, to remember that a world exists beyond these walls. After all, whenever Taehyung is home, their world sits right here with them, cross-legged on the bed.
Jeongguk’s fingertips brush over the soft grey blanket. They remember all of the times that the two of them curled up together under this blanket to watch alien movies on the laptop while their friends were out partying during first year. Closing their fingers tight, Jeongguk shuts their eyes too and breathes in a moment of clarity. Taehyung. It’s Taehyung. For fuck’s sake, it’s Taehyung.
They stand with a new resolve and clear their throat.
They can’t be this afraid of speaking to Taehyung.
Even as they square their shoulders back, though, the tell-tale click and slide of the door makes anxiety creep back up their neck. It turns their spine stiff. They hurry to the desk and lean over it as if busy, but really they’re looking at nothing, heart pounding against their chest. The desk is a mess. Empty coffee cups and college work intrude on their gaming set up. Suddenly irritated, Jeongguk tries to shove the clutter away.
‘Hey,’ says Taehyung brightly, throwing down his bag onto his bed. A clunk of books resounds around the room. Taehyung is studying physics, physics with space science. He’s so smart that it makes Jeongguk’s head ache to watch sometimes. Even when he’s quiet, there’s a kind of whirring at the back of his head, cogs constantly at work. Jeongguk could swear they can hear it.
‘Hey!’ says Jeongguk back, and they realise in a second that their voice is too loud, too bright. Taehyung knows them so well that he’ll notice something is up. ‘Hey,’ they repeat, lower, more careful.
Taehyung raises one eyebrow in a delicate arch. God he’s so fucking beautiful that it makes Jeongguk’s whole body feel numb and alive at the same time. Prominent features but slightly curved bone structure that softens them out, keen eyes, straight hair that always falls in those eyes but that he flicks away with a long, delicate finger. ‘You alright?’ he asks with a small smile. It pulls up one corner of his lips. Jeongguk has spent enough hours imagining how it would feel to press a kiss to those lips.
‘Good,’ they say, but it comes out like a squeak this time. ‘How was class?’
‘Brilliant,’ says Taehyung. He’s the only person in the entire university who answers the question this way. He loves his subject so much that it rolls off him in excited waves. Everything that Taehyung loves, he projects to the world with such quiet adoration that it becomes contagious. Though not loud, it’s his honesty that does it. That’s part of the magnetism that has held Jeongguk at his side for so long. ‘Yoongi and I are going to work on our project later. You good if we delay games night for an hour?’
‘No problem,’ Jeongguk says, still so bright, even though their heart jumps with worry. They’d planned on procrastinating for at least two hours before getting to the point, but now there’s a deadline. ‘I’ll text Jimin and let him know.’
Taehyung surveys their face, and Jeongguk can’t help but look down, feeling analysed. They knew that it would end up going like this. They’ve never been able to hide anything from Taehyung, and after an hour or two hours spent tearing their hair out in front of the mirror, the anxiety must show on their face. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Jeongguk?’ he asks, concern breaking across his features.
‘I’m fine!’
‘You’re getting that flush on your neck that you get when you’re worried about something. Talk to me, love.’
Taehyung calls them that, sometimes. It’s a throwaway word, to him, but it’s not a throwaway word to Jeongguk. Love. They imagine how it would feel to hear that word in Taehyung’s throatier voice of romance. Over the last few years, Jeongguk has watched Taehyung date so many guys that they’ve blurred into one, a faceless stranger that could never, ever be good enough for him. Maybe Jeongguk’s judgmental. Maybe they’re just jealous. They can’t help it.
‘I’m not worried!’
‘You are,’ Taehyung frowns. He crosses the room and reaches for Jeongguk’s wrist. His fingers curl around his forearm and Jeongguk jumps at his cool touch. ‘Has something happened? Is this because of your coursework?’
‘No, no!’ Jeongguk winces. They’ve done okay keeping to their deadline, even though over the last couple of years they’ve relied on Taehyung for help more than once. They close their eyes for a second to refocus and concentrate on their rehearsal earlier. Another day can’t go by. They can’t edge closer and closer to graduation, to the day that the two of them might not live together anymore, without them saying this aloud. ‘Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you for a second.’
To his credit, Taehyung’s expression remains steady, even if a flash of worry flickers over his eyes. ‘Okay, sure. Do you want to sit on the bed?’
Jeongguk nods and slides down beside him on the end of the bed. As their fingers find the familiar blanket again, they feel a rush of courage. ‘The thing is, I just wanted to be… to be honest with you about something that… that I’ve been thinking about for a long time. And I’m sorry that it has taken me so long to just pluck up the courage to say it out loud but the truth is that I had a lot to work out in my own head first and - ’
‘It’s alright,’ Taehyung interrupts in a soft voice, and his hand slides across to take Jeongguk’s. He interlinks their fingers and brushes his thumb gently over the back of Jeongguk’s hand. ‘I know what you’re going to say.’
‘You do?’ they say in surprise, taken aback. Their eyes widen, doe-like and anxious, dark and sparkling. If Taehyung knows, if Taehyung has somehow always known, then that changes everything. They don’t know if it would make them feel better or worse. ‘God, Taehyung, I - ’
Taehyung squeezes their hand. ‘Look at me.’
Jeongguk turns to face him. Even after all this time, every year spent together, it still sends a shiver down their spine to look at him square in the eye like this. Their own hands feel clammy, a little sweaty, but they don’t pull them away in embarrassment. Unable to look at him so intently for too long without turning scarlet, Jeongguk drags their eyes down somewhere nearer to his nose, the cupid’s bow of his lips. ‘I’ve just been so afraid of telling you,’ they whisper. ‘I know it’s stupid but I’ve been going over and over in my head everything that could go wrong.’
Taehyung nods, then reaches up his other hand to touch the side of Jeongguk’s face. It happens so fast that Jeongguk doesn’t even have a second to react. Taehyung brushes his fingertips over the swell of their lower lip and then leans in close. He touches a soft kiss to the corner of their lips, and Jeongguk’s world stops and starts with the jolting whiplash of a stalling car. Their eyes close and they can’t help but slide a hand up to Taehyung’s collar, thumbing at the buttons of his shirt before cupping his neck for a moment.
Then, that crashing-car governing their mobility jerks to a standstill and they push Taehyung back by the chest with a gasp. Blood rushes to their head and then plummets so fast that they feel dizzy, crawling back across the bed as they shake their head. ‘No, fuck,’ they say, rubbing their eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This makes it so much worse.
For a second, they’ve felt it. They’ve felt the sweet vibration in their heart of how it would feel to be the beneficiary of Taehyung’s unadulterated love and attention.
‘Jeongguk? Oh Jeongguk, I’m sorry!’ A look of horror breaks over Taehyung’s face. ‘Oh God, this wasn’t what you wanted to talk about. I’m so sorry. I thought – I thought you were - ’ His forehead knits up in panic. ‘I thought you had feelings for me. I thought we would – God.’
Jeongguk squeezes their eyes shut, tears rising up behind them. They’d already allowed themself to open up a window of emotional vulnerability, unprepared for that to happen. ‘Tae - ’ they start.
‘I’m so sorry! Forget it ever happened!’
Now both of them are caught up in the same twist of stress and something like water is rushing in Jeongguk’s head, so loud that they can’t hear properly. Taehyung kissed them. Taehyung kissed them. There can be no backing out now. Like a caged animal in a tight corner, they turn, gasping for proper breath. ‘Stop, Taehyung! Please. Just let me talk. Please.’ Suddenly, they manage to level out their voice. Adrenaline captures a certain degree of focus.
Taehyung looks both painfully hurt and shocked by his own actions, eyes wide and hair messy like he’s run his hands through it a thousand times. ‘Jeongguk…’
‘Just listen,’ they whisper. ‘Of course I have feelings for you. I’ve had feelings for you for so long that it’s cleaved scars into my heart.’
‘Then what’s wrong?’ he asks. His voice sounds drenched with agony. ‘What have I done? Have I hurt you this much? Have I been such a fucking idiot for all these years that I’ve left it too late? Because the other guys meant nothing, Jeongguk. I was searching for something that was right in front of me and I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that I wasted all this time but I swear to God I’ll make it right.’
Jeongguk shakes their head again. ‘Taehyung, it’s not you. You haven’t done anything wrong.’ Their voice comes out a rasping whisper. Even Taehyung’s confession seems insignificant in comparison to their own. The script in their mind is long gone, torn up by everything that has happened in the last two minutes. ‘But you like boys. You’ve always liked boys.’
‘Of course,’ says Taehyung. His forehead creases up again. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’m not - ’ Jeongguk closes their hands tight on their own thighs to keep them from shaking. ‘I’m not a boy.’
‘I – what?’
Jeongguk doesn’t blame him for not understanding at the drop of a single word. It took years just to make sense of themself. It took books and typing out questions to strangers online and asking so many questions of their own brain that it triggered headache after headache and a twisting in their stomach at the fear they’d never feel normal. Never feel safe in their skin. ‘I’m not a boy,’ they repeat, barely audible. ‘I’ve never felt like a boy. Not like a man.’
‘You’re…?’ Taehyung reaches for their hand again but this time Jeongguk pulls it away. They can’t be distracted right now. ‘Tell me. You can tell me.’
‘I was always confused and I thought if I just copied you I’d feel comfortable that way, because you were always so cool and you didn’t care about if things were masculine or feminine, boy clothes or girl clothes. I thought I could be a man and just express myself like I wasn’t. Like I wasn’t a boy or a girl. Or like I could be both. Fuck, it’s all coming out wrong. I’m not saying any of it right and I practiced so many times.’
‘Jeonggukkie…’ Taehyung’s voice is so gentle.
‘But I realised it’s not just about the way I dress. It’s not about the way I act. It’s inside me.’ They press their hands to their heart, fingers linked over one another to create a protective web over that most vulnerable part of themself. ‘Pretending isn’t enough. Pretending like I’m okay to be one thing and look like another. Because I am one thing, what I am, and that’s it. It helps, it helps so much to express who I am in the way I look, but it’s more than that too. I still don’t even know what word to use, what label to put on myself. I don’t even know if I want a label. But I know that I’m not a boy and that I’m not a girl either.’ The words trail off at last. ‘And I wanted to tell you. I always wanted to tell you because you’re my best friend. My best friend in the world. But I couldn’t even explain it to myself so I didn’t know how to explain it to you. And I’m sorry.’
‘Hey,’ Taehyung doesn’t take their hands this time but follows them across the bed to rest a gentle hand on their shoulder. ‘Don’t say you’re sorry. You do not have to be sorry. Not for this. You do not ever have to be sorry.’
‘I’ve let you fall for me,’ they whisper, ‘but I’m not what you want.’
Taehyung slides from the bed this time and kneels down before them. He rests his hands over Jeongguk’s in their lap, licking his lips that have turned dry with anxiety. ‘Jeongguk, you are what I want. You are what I’ve always wanted.’
‘But I’m not - ’
‘I never said that I only like boys,’ says Taehyung with a heart-breaking kind of smile that must be to reassure them, but Jeongguk just finds themself hiccupping with a tear that’s caught a second from breaking.
‘But you’ve only dated guys.’ They know what they’re doing. They’re putting up defences. They’re putting up barriers, creating reasons why this can’t be right, because the thought that Taehyung might still want them is not a reality that they’re ever allowed themself to consider.
‘So far,’ he says softly, ‘but if you’ll have me, Jeongguk, that won’t be forever. Because I’ll date you next. Not date you, even, because we’ve done the dating part for our whole lives. I want to love you. I want to be in love with you.’
Jeongguk feels the tear fall then, catching on their lower lashes. They lift one arm to wipe it away but Taehyung keeps hold of them so they have to use their shirt.
‘I wish you could have told me before.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, I don’t want you to be sorry,’ Taehyung says quickly, ‘that’s not what I meant. I mean that I wish I’d made you feel safe enough that you could tell me before. As your best friend. I should’ve noticed. I should’ve done things differently.’
Shaking their head, Jeongguk regains a little command of their senses and loosens one hand from Taehyung’s grip to reach forward and brush his long hair from his eyes. Taehyung leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. Jeongguk knows that this moment must feel like everything has changed at once, because they feel it too; they know too that Taehyung’s love confession has been pushed aside for them to tell their truth but the love can wait. They’ll have a long time for love. ‘You’ve been perfect,’ they say. ‘You’ve always been perfect. I just needed time for myself, to get here.’
Taehyung turns his face into Jeongguk’s palm and presses a kiss to the skin there. ‘I love you, Jeongguk,’ he whispers. ‘And I’m proud of you. I’m proud that you’ve worked all of this out and that you’ve told me.’
‘Stop it,’ Jeongguk groans and covers their eyes.
‘I am. I’m proud of you. You’re incredible.’
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath. All of the tension of the last few weeks that has kept their shoulders tight seems to fade out slightly, enough that they can stretch their neck and unfurl a couple of inches of their spine. ‘C-can we talk about you now?’ they say with a trembling laugh as they wipe away another tear that has fallen down the dark circle beneath their left eye. ‘Can we talk less about me and more about how you’ve been in love with me? Trying to find the right moment to tell me?’
Taehyung’s lips twitch to a charming smile. ‘Okay. I’ll talk all you want. But can I ask you a question first, just because it’s important?’
Jeongguk nods.
‘Do you still want to be Jeongguk? Like your name? I’m sorry, I don’t know much about anything yet but I’m going to read every book in the library and listen to everything that you tell me.’
Jeongguk can’t help but smile. Of course that is what Taehyung will do. Sweet, studious Taehyung, will look for all of the answers in the books that Jeongguk has spent months searching for inside themself. ‘Jeongguk is good. I love my name. Feel good with my name.’
‘My Jeongguk,’ murmurs Taehyung, ‘if you’ll have me.’
‘Of course I’ll have you,’ groans Jeongguk, and this time they pull Taehyung up from his position on the floor until the two of them fall back onto the bed together. An exhausted laugh breaks from Taehyung’s lips too, and Jeongguk wonders if the two of them will ever have to have another conversation as loaded as this one. They hope not. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you, Taehyung.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Since forever. Since we were kids. It took me so long to figure that out too but it’s true. I think I’ve always loved you.’
Taehyung rolls onto his side and brushes his fingers slowly through Jeongguk’s long hair. He winds the strands around his finger until they curl and then watches them fall with an adoration that Jeongguk has never noticed before, not until this moment. Perhaps it was always there, and they were too scared to notice it. Perhaps Taehyung didn’t even notice it either.
‘I’ve been a fool, Jeongguk, letting you love me for this long without even having the courage to love you back. I regret it more than anything.’
‘You have loved me,’ they whisper, ‘I’m your best friend.’
‘You know it’s different.’
Yes, they do know. Because no matter how many times Taehyung has called them ‘love’ it’s never stopped them imagining how it would be for him to call them ‘my love’ instead. Even when they’ve held each other and cried together and curled up to sleep together, Jeongguk has imagined how different it would be if they were partners, not best friends. ‘Yeah,’ they say quietly, ‘it is different.’
‘Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?’
Jeongguk tilts their head to the side, against the bed, and plays with the buttons of Taehyung’s shirt, shy. ‘You can tell me again now, because it’s different.’
‘You’re so beautiful, Jeongguk.’
‘You’re not too bad yourself,’ they wink.
‘Do you like being called beautiful?’
Jeongguk can see the analytical side of Taehyung’s brain working, the powerful one that he dedicates every day to math and science, the collection of data whirring away. They know that he’ll ask questions, so many questions, that this is only the start, but they’re okay with that. They’re okay with questions. Subtle ones, nudging around for answers if Jeongguk wants to give them. ‘I do. I like that a lot. You should say it lots and lots.’
‘I promise I will.’
It started on the playground, when Jeongguk had grit in their palm, and they think it’ll start again today, a whole new life with Taehyung different from the last. They think that’s the beauty of finding one soulmate, one person with whom you can share every stage of your life, because Taehyung has always known them better than anyone. Now, he knows everything. Every little thing and every big thing. Every most important thing and Jeongguk knows Taehyung’s most important things too.
Like the fact that Taehyung has fallen for them too. Has maybe been in love with them. For how long?
‘When did you fall for me?’ they whisper. ‘When did you wake up and realise you wanted to kiss your best friend?’
Jeongguk can ask questions too.
All of the questions that the last lifetime together hasn’t answered yet.